I like to think Elena thinks in a broken, strange pattern, and that's what brought about this. She tries to be organized, but I think even for her it's a struggle.
So here's the latest redo of Elena's story. It's the only one I'm never proud of; I have no idea how many times I'm going to start rewriting it.
Heehee... yeah... this is the third time...
"Elena, stop it; you don't have to do this!" The woman cries as she stares at me, her eyes wide in fear and sympathy. I take in her form silently, tears pouring down my cheeks as well. She's beautiful, as always, with her Xingese features and general caring aura. I only wish that my last memories of her could have her wearing a smile rather than tears.
Blood splatters over me, and I can faintly hear a child's crying in the distance. I know the child somehow, from somewhere, and I long to comfort her, but no matter how hard I look I can't find her.
I am flung from my stool suddenly, and hit the ground hard. A terrorizing, whistled tune starts as the blonde-haired man called my father kicks me. "You're pathetic, Elena!" He yells over the whistling, which is gradually rising in volume. "Pathetic!" He kicks me again and continues to rant, eventually drowned out by that horrid tune. And just as the whistling reaches ear-splitting volume—
The young woman awakens suddenly, sitting upright in her bed. She pushes long strands of hair out of her face and glances out the window calmly. Yet again, she has woken before the sun; the sky has only just begun to turn pink. She grabs a brush and runs it through her knotted hair as she watches the sun rise, before heading downstairs and fixing herself a cup of coffee. After finishing it, she continues on with her regular morning ritual, showering and dressing before brushing her teeth.
As the girl finishes preparing for the day ahead of her, she glances up at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her straight hair is long and dark, reaching about mid-waist with straight, neat bangs. A glaring red streak runs directly through the middle of her hair, undismissable and clashing greatly with the blank, careless expression she wears. In comparison to her hair, her skin is actually quite pale, giving her the look of a person who stays indoors constantly. Her bright blue eyes denote her Amestrian roots. She's a fine young woman, but it's not something she dwells upon.
Her uniform is crisp and clean; ironed to perfection. A person like her would hardly wear it any other way. The military jacket and long blue pants tucked into boots, along with the odd cape, complete her ensemble. She's just another state alchemist, really, and the thought makes her sigh, giving a slight shrug. She shoves her hands into her pockets and heads to work without another second thought.
Her name is Elena Bloodstone, and she is the Stone Blood Alchemist. Her most memorable trait is that she has no traits; she is completely emotionless towards everyone and everything around her. Her coworkers have, naturally, put her to the test, sic'ing Major Armstrong and Lieutenant Colonel Hughes on her in turn. Not once has either caused her to so much as bat an eye. Not even her leading officer, Colonel Roy Mustang, has been able to crack her. Thus, she has been labeled Stone Blood the stone-faced, though she has never seemed to notice these rumors, not even when they are brought up around her.
Today, she quickly learns, will be a slow day. Colonel Mustang has no new jobs to send her on, and for her that's just fine. Elena doesn't care for the jobs; she is here for one reason only as it is. Therefore, the young alchemist heads towards the Central Library, restricted to all but state alchemists and other government officials.
The young state alchemist is surprised and perhaps even a bit relieved to find that for once the library is empty, except for her. She walked through the archives with nearly silent footsteps, scanning the spines for one of two names. The first one she finds takes only minutes. It's a recipe book by Daniel Bloodstone, and she pulls it from its shelf without a second thought, moving on. About an hour later, she has found two more by the same man, and another by Solf Kimblee. Deciding she should stop before she has too many books to carry, she heads towards the library doors.
Then, suddenly someone sneezes. Following that is a muffled curse, as though they had not wanted to be heard. She freezes in her steps. Someone has been here after all? Part of her scoffs at the very idea; a smaller part, however, raises red flags. It is for this small suspicion that she goes to investigate.
She catches a glimpse of him before expected. It's just a glance, but the flash of obsidian-black hair that she catches between bookshelves is enough to cause her to stare in surprise.
"Elena, can you come and play?" The seven year old boy with green eyes and obsidian hair grins at me cheerfully. He's always so cheerful. I get my father's permission and the boy grabs my gloved hand, dragging me off to his front yard. He's giggling about something he wants to show me. I come along, simply because it's kind of nice seeing that smile after another horrible test.
There's no way, Elena decides. He may look similar to the boy from her childhood, but she refuses to accept that this could actually be him. He never became a state alchemist, and there's no way he's come back, not since he left with that stranger to Rush Valley. She approaches this familiar-looking stranger.
"Sir, are you supposed to be here?" She asks. Her voice is a monotone, emotionless and blank, and she's proud of herself for keeping it in its usual tone even as her heart pounds so erratically, telling her the truth that she's scared to admit.
The man turns to her, revealing eyes like emeralds. He smiles slightly, and the burst of warm familiarity fills her. It really is him.
He's drawn something in the sand. It looks like… no way, though, there's no way he can do that. Surely not him too. "Watch this!" My friend beams at me and touches the edge of the circle. It glows, and flowers sprout on the lines. I back away at the sight of the monstrosity that is alchemy. I hate alchemy. I hate it!
"Not really." His voice breaks through her thoughts. For a while, she's almost clueless as to how to respond, before catching herself, inwardly scolding at herself angrily. She may have known him in the past, but that was then, and this is now, and she certainly doesn't know him anymore. The state alchemist stares dully at him, taking in his appearance. Apart from the messy obsidian-black hair that he keeps swept to either side of his face, and those bright green eyes, he is barely recognizable from the boy he once was. He has grown taller, of course; it's been six years since she last saw him, and skinny as well—skinny to the point of being unhealthy. He wears a plain white button-down shirt and trousers under a long black coat with blue lining. He's still handsome, but there's something in those laughing eyes that suggests he's seen too much. Still, the open book in his lap gives her hope that he hasn't changed too much.
"I'll have to ask you to leave the premises at once." She finally drones, shoving her hands into her pockets. Her left makes contact with the cool metal of her pocketwatch, and she closes her fist around it.
"No thanks." He flashes that cheerful smile again and shrugs, going back to reading. Any other officer would have been perturbed by such disrespectful behavior, but Elena is unmoved.
"Allow me to rephrase." She says calmly. "You will leave immediately, or I will have to take you under arrest for breaking and entering."
The dark-haired man sighs and closes the book, rising to his feet. "What's the big deal about my being here, anyways? Information like this shouldn't be kept from the people; we all deserve to know. Don't you agree?" He asks. His cheerful expression remains, almost as though it's plastered there, but he has also suddenly grown serious, staring at her straight in the eye.
Elena merely sighs. Rather than giving him an answer, she simply states, "I do not make the laws, I simply restate and obey them. Now leave."
The intruder sighs and mutters something about people changing before turning away from her. "Fine; I guess I'll see you around." He mumbles, walking away. There's still a restricted book held in his hand, however, and due to this Elena gives the smallest of sighs.
She seems almost exasperated as she reaches to grab the book from the young man. "I meant without thi—" She suddenly freezes, as he grabs her wrist and flips her hand over to reveal the transmutation circle tattooed on her palm. Her eyes widen slightly and she immediately pulls away, shoving her hands into her pockets. She's clearly more distressed than earlier, if only by a small amount.
The male grins widely, reminiscent of a little kid on Christmas. "I knew it was you." He says cheerfully. "Do you remember me, Elena Bloodstone?"
How could I not. The woman thinks, but chooses to instead look him dead in the eye and lie. "No, I do not." She says. Remembering him would be too dangerous; it could halt her plan. It's necessary for her to remain emotionless, she tells herself. Emotionless people don't have friends. And besides—
"You're a killer. You don't deserve friends, let alone emotions."
She couldn't ever let herself forget.
His smile slips into a frown before he quickly recovers it. Now, though, there is a little confusion to it; a little disappointment. Perhaps he knows she's lying, she thinks, or maybe he just doesn't know how she would forget. "Come on, Elena. We were friends at school…"
She stares at him dully; reactionlessly. She hates acting this way sometimes, but even now it feels absolutely necessary. "I never had a friend when I attended school, at least not to my memory. I certainly have never met you."
He gives a resigned sigh. "I see. Well, it was nice seeing you again." He mumbles and shelves the restricted book, before walking away in long strides. With every left footfall, she hears a clanking, metallic sound, and it causes her to wrinkle her nose in confusion. She's sure that Dante doesn't have automail. At least, he certainly didn't the last time she saw him.