And here we are, at the second part of the Zanzibar Triliogy. I'd like to thank those of you who reviewed, especially the ones that I do not know in real life. Anywho, here's the next part, with Mpreg just for the hell of it!
Again, I do not own Full Metal Alchemist. It belongs to Hiromu Arakawa, Square Enix, and to an extent, Funimation.
Zanzibar: Pt. 2: The Second Coming: Part ½: The Sad Dawning of the Morning Royed.
Movement I: The morning of the virii.
Open your eyes.
Huh? Who the hell are you?
I'm the narrator. The Most Important person in the world.
You don't seem that important.
Look who's talking. You have two dads.
Are you the tremulant?
Were you trapped in jetfire?
Caught in the crossfire?
It's not really your fault,
You were just a product of drunken desire.
Scene ⅓- Royed begins his day.
Pinoko: So, how are you this morning, you affront to God who does not exist in Arakawa world?
Royed comes down the stairs. All cheer. They cheer because they have no soul. They are the remulant.
Royed: Not too bad. I mean, for a guy who was somehow formed from only XY Chromosomes, I'm not too bad.
Pinoko nods her head in the silent nothing. She puts a flower by Winry's portrait, contorted by the shame of Ernest Hemingway. Her pretensions got the best of her. She tried a B minor pentatonic scale of life and lost her manicure.
Royed: So, did my father-one of them, anyway-like Winry?
Pinoko: Pigdogs should not play with winners.
Royed: Oh, no, don't tell me you're doing that metaphor thing again, are you?
Pinoko, alone in her timeless grief, puts on Ochione's Death Mask, reliving the schemes of years.
Pinoko: What is plagiarism but the replay of man's thoughts?
Royed sighs.
Royed: That's it. I'm getting a sandwich.
NO!
NO!
NO!
Why the golden haired child?
Why the golden haired child?
G-BCF!
Who will remember me when I'm dead now?
Royed entered the kitchen, starved. He was rather bored when Pinoko started speaking in italics. He wondered if Ed would take him to the park if he was still alive. And if he could find Roy, maybe he could squeeze some alimony out of him. He was a deadbeat dad, after all.
It has been fifteen years, he thought, and I've never seen either of my dads.
He bit into his pastrami on rye, soiled with the blood of the dead in Antarctica. He did not know of the Trotskyists who wanted to eat that sandwich. How could he know? He didn't even know he had the super flu.
There's a rattling in his throat and it won't go away,
Today with the mucus and locust in chest,
With no money and a runaway dad,
That boy's gotta get some rest.
Movement II: 150 American Folk Songs for Fried Chicken.
He left home that day. The bills in Pinoko's house were pilling up. He couldn't burden her anymore. He ate at least 200 lbs. of food a year, and, when he really thought about it, was really like a vampire when it came to her money.
Like a vampire.
Like a vampir
E
Like a vamp
I
R
E
Like a
V
A
M
P
I
R
E
L
I
K
E
A
V
A
M
P
I
R
E
To be honest, he really needed to get on the train.
Wooo, Woooo!
Choo! Choo!
Everyone's got things to do!
To Central!
To Central!
He arrived in Central in the morning. He passed by many people. He did not act like a jerk. He wanted a beard but could not have a beard. He was not pure. He was made by the tragic act that made Oedipus seem like Mickey Mouse (not the Kingdom Hearts kind that will kill and eat you if you look at him funny, the one in the movies).
Scene ⅔- Central
Int. Royed, Winrose, and the everknowing spirit of Capitalism.
Royed walks off the train. He is caused to feel shame and the future. He wonders if anyone can feel his name in the sweltering sub zero temperature. The Latin Beat continues in our hearts. I knew you shot JFK, the Zapruder shows it.
Royed: Perhaps here I can begin a life anew. Perhaps here, I'll forget that I'm a medical impossibility.
Winrose walks in the room from the vapors of your bathroom scent. She is the radiance of eighty-five women, most of them strippers. Like a flame rising, then falling, she was like a fleeting sheet of beauty. Royed can only manifest the growing feelings in him with the three immortal words, spoken century upon century, unaware of the dying embers and dying notes.
Royed: Damn, you're hot.
Winrose looks at him, recognizing his pretense. She has measured her life in coffee spoons, and is suffering from female pattern baldness that is not baldness. She was a Stalinist, he was a Trotskyist. Together, their existential supply-side economics would flourish.
Winrose: A fun time. Will go Wilco? I am calling. London is calling. Long Distance is Running Around.
Royed: taken aback: Uh, OK.
They make out, fusing into a stately time of ice, mulled from the tax forms of James Joyce. The artist was indeed a young man. And it was indeed a portrait. Crazy people do not eat at Crazy Buffet. Why is that?
Movement III: The day of the Seventeen Thousand-Four Hundred and Twenty Seven point Three-Tenth Lemons. (A slightly related interlude.)
Autumn has come,
And as of yet,
No one has had fun.
What does one do?
You can't move to the sacred spire.
The fangirls felt his anger too,
His incompetence has drawn their ire.
When he burst from Ed's Head,
He took the silver wings of morning.
No solace was taken for the dead,
He did not see her mourning.
He lives with the sun god girl,
For she too committed the same sin.
Poor golden haired child,
No one knew your temperance,
You gave birth to one so meek and mild,
Though nothing rhymes with temperance.
It was such a harmless wager,
But perhaps he should have done it
When he was a Major.
The elitist fangirl brings her arms to the sky,
To the mighty rangerarmy shrine,
"I have done what no one has",
She cries,
"I made them have babies!"
This is her product.
She knew what was coming.
Inspire a madman,
Receive the drumming.
She does not care.
Her fanfiction dreams
Have become YouTube schemes
And she has carried on.
She stepped into the flames, and did not burn.
Her mark on literature carries on.
The mark of Xing Li carries on.
You carry on.
You carry on.
Royed is the sad product,
When Kidneys are Ovaries,
The Bladder is the Uterus,
And a decapitated head the Birth Canal.
Winrose came from the desire to belong.
Who knew Rose led the Terrorists?
Nobody knew.
That's who.
Who knew she was a lesbian?
I sure as hell didn't know.
That made things a little complicated.
It's a good thing
Ed cut off her head.
To the mountain, friends!
To the mountains!
There they bunk,
Where synth-pop plays every day.
The pink tipped girl,
And the Fire Lord.
If you look there,
If you really look,
You'll find two things.
You'll find a radio,
Tuned to the same song.
You'll find a poem like this,
One that is much too long.
Movement IV: Take the Veil, Cerpin Taxt! Take that goddamned veil already! Seriously, take it already, you're staring to piss me off!
The rise to power had begun. The mountain lay before them, calling in the night like Alexander Graham Bell on Coca-Cola crack. It was snowy, and felt like several steps into the Buddhist Chamber of the Sacred Infiniti. There, they knew, it lay before them.
"Well", said Royed, his shirt beaming with optimism, "Here's our meal ticket out of here, Winny-baby. How's abouts we climb it?"
Winrose looked at the doormat of glass. She knew that it was much too late to stop the melting of the final hour, and felt that the pretension of life was going to kill someone. Right in the head. It would get them right in the head, shot by a camper.
Right now, there were bloops and beeps in her head. And bees. There were bees in there too. Pretty much everything that starts with a B was in there.
The Climb began, and the Ascent commenced. Up on the summit, a man of Forty looked upon with them with suspicion. He was the man who took Flames, and made them his own.
"Sweet Mother of God-Who-Does-Not-Exist-In-Arakawa-World!" the man said, "It's that kid! I thought I put him in the Dumpster!"
Rose kept knitting, her tears of sorrow the fabric. The time was at hand. She also knew this. The dawning of the plague would take Amestris and send it to Berlin. Then they would have to deal with the Wall. The wall would bring them to the Dogs.
Pigdogs. Why did it have to be pigdogs? This she thought as the knit-one, pearl two continued in the sacred spire. There was plenty to take the time to barbecue.
Knit one, Pearl two.
Knit one, Pearl two.
Knit one, Pearl two.
Knit one, Pearl two.
Would she have let Ed die?
"Damn that Pinoko!" Roy cursed, "She knew she couldn't take her hands off the heir to the throne of the junked dog! She just had to get involved with the meddle of the seventh reign of the Agaharta!"
He opened a drawer in the middle of his memory box. There lied a large portion of a large porcelain mask. It was special. It held the secret of the scalpel box. It told him to do it. It was not his fault. Out of all of the women he slept with, how could it be possible that he got a man pregnant?
But still, the porcelain portion knew what to do. It gave him the mountain. The elitist girl lives in it. She doesn't have an awareness of my writings. I only chronicle the tragedy. It is my purpose.
He took the mask of Ochione and held it close to his chest, where his superficial arteries and veins began to bleed.
Drum Solo!
THrakaktTKAKAKATHRAKAKTHAKkahthakkkkkkkkkkkkkrkkakkakakRoyThrakcktkackttakkkkkkToldTHRACKthtkTHKKKKRoseTHRACKkcktkTKCKTAAAAtssstsstsstsstssTSSTSSTSThatBABOOMbABOomTHOOmooommoomoomooomoooomoTheyCoTHRAKkakakakakakathakkakkakaKAKAKAKAKKAKAKAAKkKKKKKkkKKaaaaAAAaaTHRAKTHRACKBOOMShouldTHrackkkakkakBooboomoboomooombBarBAMAMAMAMBABAMBABAMBAMBAMBAMBAMThrackkkkkkkkTHRXKAkakakaTheBAVAVAVAVAVAVAVDoor.
There was a thunderous sound. Sound. Sound is found. It was found there. In the rain. The rain fell. Hemingway Code. Frederick Henry is the code. The code says the truth. Truth not found! 404! File not found! Error, Error, Error! Mayday, Mayday! System is error! System is error! The Barred door cannot stand! Jeff Buckley River! Argh!
Wood splinters Wood splinters don't let them take them if you can where is everyone I'm coming in. Take it all take it all you and I need to have a talk if you can't go go there but for the grace of God goes Rose. I told you to die it's been fifteen years didn't you care I have a life and it doesn't involve you what about Winrose don't you care. You just want money I have good reasons you'll just suck it all dry I could have been somebody I could have been the Fuhrer. I told you I told you keep them wasn't Pinoko enough of a mother she's too mentally disturbed by the mask of Ochione. I need my piece it's just a stupid mask you don't know anything do you do you shut up I'm trying to talk stop just stop we can work this out shut up shut up I don't want to hear it. Please stop please stop we can work this out Rose is right how much do we need you take nothing you children of bitches don't talk about my father that way I'm your father too. I'm almost through the door Rose get the iron it won't work I can't carry it. Perfect pitch, obsession with butterflies, Perfect pitch, Strong Singer, Perfect Pitch, loving, Perfect Pitch. Don't kill them I'll do whatever the hell I want!
Scene 1- The arrival of Ochione
Ent. Ochione.
Ochione creeps into the ceiling where Roy and Rose live. They are not lovers but brothers and mothers. She looks upon them, and then at Royed and Winrose, who are trying to burst through the door with a tree trunk made with the skin of Adam Smith. She is enthralled at the beauty she made. She forced the red hair one to write and I write the results and no one can listen because no one can see like I see because no one takes the pills I take there are many pills there are red ones and blue ones and green ones I need to get off them but Ochione forces them on me because I'm trapped here get me out. Her face takes a twisted grin.
Ochione (to Royed, whispering. Royed does not hear.): It's been said, that you'll never know. You'll never know. You'll never know. I will throw you in this cage of dead toenails and you'll hum hallelujah. All the writer says is false. All I say is truefalse. False is true. Don't they look so cute together? They are the OTP of God, after all. Don't deny me, for I'm all you live for.
Royed (Looking up): All of a sudden, I feel very scared. What's with this chill in my spine? God, Winrose, it's cold. It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah.
Winrose (knowing what Royed is feeling, but for some reason Royed cannot hear): I won't let her take you. You poor child, you know nothing. You're falling to it, too. You've got to die before Ochione grabs you too. I gave you the superflu for that reason. She already got me.
The tree finally bursts through the door. Roy falls to the ground. He looks into the furious eyes of Royed.
Royed (Hissing, his voice full of rage): We need to talk, you and I.
So here we are
The turning of the guard.
Maybe we're here
In a long, withstanding card.
A/N: And so ends another section of this stupid, stupid trilogy. Originally, this wasn't supposed to be a trilogy; the first chapter was only supposed to be a one shot, but I thought the idea of Royed was too good of an idea to pass up. Then, as I thought it would be extremely pretentious, I made another chapter to flesh out some sort of trilogy. The biggest shocker of all for me was that this developed a plot, if only a scant one.
So, what did you think? Leave a review and let me know, and stick around for the third and final part! I can't promise much, but I can guarantee that it will have words!