Current Status
Damon: Working at Curtis Meats in Dublith and staying with Izumi and Sig Curtis.
Jason: Staying at the Devil's Nest in Dublith with Greed and various other chimeras.
Lorelei: Traveling to the Tucker household to pose as a student interested in bio-alchemy.
Sabrina: Traveling with Scar and Tristan at East City.
Griffin: Traveling with Edward and Alphonse Elric, currently in East City.
Part Two: Stranger in a Strange Land
Chapter Seven – Escape
Featuring: Lorelei, Sabrina, and Griffin
"I don't believe in fate, but the bottom line: it's time to pay, you know you've got it coming."
Lorelei
The second I go to sit on the train, I realize that I have no form of entertainment except for Roy Mustang. And I have a growing suspicion that Roy Mustang is not a very good entertainer.
He's sitting across from me, making what I have dubbed his awkward face. If he's going to try to recruit me into his miniskirt army, he will fail at it miserably. He should stick to his job and try not to have conversations with teenagers of any kind.
"So," he says, staring out the window, "anything interesting happen since yesterday?"
You really need to work on your icebreakers, buddy; they suck. "Not really. I barely slept at all, but that's normal."
Mustang raises an eyebrow and asks, "Normal?"
"You're looking at your neighborhood insomniac." I shrug and continue, "It's not really that big of a deal. I've gotten used to it."
He glances at me out of the corner of his eye as the train lurches into motion. "You sort of remind me of someone I know."
"Fullmetal, you mean?" I see his confused stare and clarify, "I remember you saying something about him to Hughes. Guy's a bastard."
"You met him?"
I nod and say, "Right before I went to Central Command. He's the one that told me the truth about McDougal." Yeah, I'm acting a little bitter about the whole situation, but it's warranted. It's not like I'm going to forget about being lied to anytime soon.
He sighs and inclines his head in acknowledgement. "We've never gotten along. He thinks I'm the bastard."
Huh. I wonder why. Please note the sarcasm.
"Yeah, I definitely prefer his brother to him," I say. "But not in that way."
"Ah-huh," he says in a voice that clearly portrays his reluctance to believe my words.
I glare at him, more out of annoyance than true anger. "Really, I'm not that into suits of armor, no matter how sweet they are."
Blinking, he probably realizes that I know 'nothing' about Alphonse's true nature. Except that, of course, I know more than he does about it. But I'm not gonna tell him that. I don't want to face even more questions.
"Have you been in East City before?" He asks, obviously wanting to change the subject.
I shake my head and say, "Nope. You have, right?"
"Yes. I'm usually stationed there."
Yeah, I know that. I know more about you than you do. Saying that won't go over well. Should I talk about something else? But what would he want to talk about, aside from miniskirts? "So, what's it like being there?"
Mustang shrugs. "There's always a ton of paperwork, which is annoying." Am I the only person in the universe who isn't bothered by paperwork? I guess so. "None of my subordinates are willing to do it for me."
"Well, isn't that a shame?" I mutter to myself, rolling my eyes. "They should be groveling at your feet. Anyways, have you met Tucker before?"
He makes a face that could mean a yes or a no. "I've seen him once or twice, but have never gotten to talk to him before, aside from the basic formalities."
Maybe if you did, you'd had figured out he's a fricking psychopath.
"I'm not very interested in bio-alchemy, which is why I haven't had a conversation with him before." Mustang says, looking out the window again. "What made you decide on him again? You never said."
Because, like I just thought, he's a fricking psychopath. "He's a relatively new State Alchemist. Last year, he nearly failed his exam, and has been struggling to make ends meet. Tucker seems like the kind of man who might resort to drastic measures to keep his job, that's all."
"You didn't pick him because you like little kids and dogs, then?" He smirks.
Fake-glaring at him, I say, "Honestly, I despise children and am indifferent to dogs." I've always preferred cats, simply because they don't bark at any living thing and some non-living things as well.
"Isn't that interesting," Mustang says, clearly meaning that it's one of the most boring things he has heard in his entire life.
After the entirely uneventful rest of the train ride, we're finally in East City, or at least the city's station. Mostly, we didn't even try to maintain awkward conversation, knowing it to be futile. So yeah, we sat there, doing nothing; fun times.
Once I step off the train, I realize that the station is absolutely packed with people. I'd rather it be filled with cats, but nobody ever listens to me. "Where are we supposed to go from here?"
"To find – ah, there he is." Mustang waves his hand in the air and calls, "Havoc!"
A man waves back in the crowd and jogs towards us; indeed, Havoc. "Hey, Colonel," he says, with his trademark cigarette in his mouth, "new girlfriend?"
"Please. I have standards." I smirk at him. "The name's Lorelei Clemens."
Havoc raises his eyebrows and asks, "The...the girl who took down McDougal?"
"Yes," Mustang says stiffly, heading towards the door. "Now, if we can get going before it's too late."
I roll my eyes and mutter, "Remember, patience is a virtue, Colonel. I understand you're in a hurry to see your girlfriend, but still."
"Which girlfriend is it now?" Havoc asks me.
"Someone named… Riza; he wouldn't shut up about her on the train ride."
He chokes on his cigarette, sending smoke above my face. He is half a foot taller than me; it comes in handy sometimes. He splutters, "Hawkeye?"
"What," Mustang growls, "are you talking about, Clemens?"
I shrug and keep walking with my arms crossed. "I'm actually a psychic."
"Clemens, what the hell are you taking?" He asks, annoyed.
"Nah, Hughes mentioned a Riza. I just rolled with it." I follow Mustang out the door and glance back at Havoc, who is laughing by now. "That's why I'm still alive. I go with the flow, confusing everybody I can."
"It seems to be working," Havoc mutters under his breath.
Nodding, I ask, "So, where are we headed to, Colonel Mustard?"
"My name is Mustang," he corrects, shaking his head. "And we're almost at the Tucker house. I found out where he lives this morning."
He didn't strike me as the stalker type. Huh. "Can I at least get new clothes so I don't go there wearing this godforsaken miniskirt?"
"Honey, that's not a miniskirt," Havoc says, grinning. "That's about twice as long as one. And, if the Colonel had a say in the military uniforms, all female officers would be forced to wear legit miniskirts."
I glower at the back of Mustang's head. "Is that so, you pervert? Would that happen to include your little Miss Riza, by any chance?"
"Hell yes, it does," Havoc answers for him.
"Havoc, Clemens, shut the hell up." Mustang stops walking, and I look up to see that we're at a humongous house. "We're here."
And what do I see bounding towards me with all the finesse of a drunken giraffe? A dog that rivals the house in its size, which I realize seconds before it's pinning me to the ground. "Get off of me, you crazy mutt!"
"Alexander, you know that's bad."
Even while being crushed by a creature straight from the gates of hell, I know that voice. Nina Tucker is standing right in front of me, staring down at both me and the demon dog. "Can you get him off of me? I can feel my internal organ beginning to collapse."
Turns out, Alexander can get up on his own, like the all-grown-up hellhound he is. I pick myself off of the ground and shake pebbles out of my hair, swiveling to look at the girl. "You're Nina, right?"
She nods happily and then asks, "Have I met you before?"
I shake my head and run a hand through my hair to dislodge even more dirt. "Nope, I've just heard a lot about you."
Tilting her head to one side, she asks, "Really?"
The front door opens and a man more evil than Envy sticks his head out. "Hello?"
Hello, my name is Lorelei Clemens. You turned your wife into a chimera. Prepare to die.
Luckily, Mustang decides to intervene before I can introduce myself. "Shou Tucker, right?"
Shou F – Tucker – nods slightly and opens the door even more. "You're the Flame Alchemist? Why don't you come inside?"
Perfect. I can stab your eyes out with a Spork more discreetly when the neighbors aren't able to see. Oh, the irony. I follow everyone else – Mustang, Havoc, Nina, and Alexander – into the house, still glaring at the hellhound.
Tucker leads us into what I assume is the kitchen-slash-dining-room. He sits down, motioning for us to do the same. "Can I help you with anything?" Since the table only has four chairs, and all of them are now taken, Nina clambers up onto his lap. Alexander flops down at my feet, and I resist the urge to bring my legs up onto my chair.
Mustang turns to him – he's sitting next to him – and answers, "Actually, yes. The military has a proposition for you. Don't worry; it's a good kind of proposition."
Glancing at me sideways, Havoc raises his eyebrows, probably silently asking how I got myself into this mess. He's ditched his cigarette and is currently chewing on a toothpick. Where he's getting toothpicks and cigarettes in Amestris, I don't know.
"Go on," Tucker says, not looking like a man who would combine his wife with his dog to get a job. At least, I think it was a dog.
"As you know, Assessment Day is coming up," Mustang says in the most non-threatening voice he can muster. "All us State Alchemists are under a great deal of stress at this time, trying to make ends meet and all. That's why the Fuhrer developed a new program of sorts, to help with the worry."
While Mustang's talking, Nina is peering around the edge of the table at me.
Tucker asks, "A new program?"
"Yes. In exchange for housing a scholar for a week, you'll be granted a hundred thousand cenz for each day."
"I'm assuming you're not the scholar," Tucker says to Havoc, who shakes his head and points to me. "You look a little young to be a scholar."
What is this, Phineas and Ferb? "I'm Lorelei Clemens, sir. And I suppose I am. But I promise that, if you accept, I won't be a burden of any kind. In fact, I'd do my best to lessen the stress of the upcoming Assessment Day." And relieve you of your eyes, but I definitely am not going to tell him that.
"Also," Mustang adds, leaning forward in his chair. "If you comply, you'll be granted even more cenz as a starter. In total, everything will equate to a million cenz."
That's like ten thousand dollars, right? Except the value is different, obviously, seeing as it's not the twenty-first century here. Yet I still probably wouldn't let someone live in my house, even for that amount of money.
"And what would you do to relieve the stress, exactly?" Tucker asks me.
Take out your eyes, obviously. "Well, since I have my own military funding," I say, glancing at Mustang to tell him to give me my own military funding. "I would be able to support myself at no cost to you. Except for letting me stay here and look at your research notes. If you're okay with it, I'd also be willing to take your daughter and dog off of your hands so you can work without any possible distractions. And by that, I mean take them around East City, of course with my own money, not yours."
Nina stares up at Tucker with her big, pleading eyes, and I know that he's going to agree, if only because working without distractions would prove to be helpful to his career. "Fuhrer Bradley designed this program?"
Mustang nods and says, "Yes, he did. However, this year is simply a trial, so any feedback you can give about the process will be invaluable." He's a smart guy; calling it a trial can explain all of the flaws in this little experiment.
Tucker puts his elbows on the table and glances down at Nina before replying. "You'll stay here for a week?"
"Yes, sir," I say, knowing that it's better to be too formal than not formal enough.
"Then I'll agree to be a part of the program."
Success! My master plot has, uh, succeeded. Perfect.
"Very well," Mustang says, smiling at him. "Now, Havoc and I will be going to the bank to settle the matter of funding. We'll be back shortly." He stands up, followed by Havoc, and makes his way out of the house.
Once they leave, Tucker turns to me and asks, "So, you're interested in bio-alchemy?"
"Yeah," I say, "though I'm not an alchemist myself. I'm just interested in the field."
Nina crawls off of his lap and sits on the chair next to me. "Do you wanna play?"
Darn those puppy dog eyes of hers. "Sir, do you mind? You can get started on your research."
He shakes his head, saying, "No, I don't mind. Why don't you two – three – go outside? There's a lot less clutter."
"Okay!" Nina jumps up, and so does Alexander, who knocks me off my chair and onto the floor. "Alexander, be nice."
I stand up and glare daggers down at the mangy mutt. "Oh, you better be nice."
The hellhound simply barks at me, prompting me to chase him outside, pretending that I'm a cowboy who's trying to lasso him. This is either gonna be really fun or really exhausting, maybe even both.
One week, Lorelei, keep this up for one week.
Mustang and Havoc come back around an hour later, right around the time when I'm screaming about how I will exterminate both Alexander and Nina with my death ray. As for how exactly I'll acquire a death ray, I'm working on that.
"You look like you're having fun," Havoc comments, cigarette in his mouth again. "The Colonel will give Tucker his money. But here are the funds you requested, one hundred thousand cenz. They're right here." He hands me a small cross-body purse, which I open to find it's filled with a variety of bills and coins.
Walking back out of the house, Mustang nods at me. "I'll be sending Havoc over here daily to check up on you."
I salute him mockingly and turn back to Nina. "Where were we? Oh yes, I was about to destroy you two." I start to run after Alexander again, ignoring how absolutely winded I am. How any sane person would willingly choose to play with kids or dogs, I do not know. "Come back here!"
Five minutes later, I'm pinned to the ground again, by the demon and his master. "Guys, little miss Lorelei needs to take a break." Nina nods and rolls off me, but Alexander takes a second too long. I glower at him and growl in the most demonic voice I can muster, "Get off of me, you hound!" On second thought, I sound a lot like Gollum. It's only a matter of time until I start to look like him too.
She laughs as he jumps off of me and sprints towards the house, whimpering. "How can you do that voice?"
"Practice, and never drinking enough water," I say, which isn't exactly a lie. "You should drink your water so you'll never end up like me."
When we get inside, Tucker's probably still holed up in his basement, studying. "Make sure to be very, very quiet," I say to both of the devious duo, and they nod in unison. "We don't want to disturb Daddy, do we?"
Nina shakes her head and says, "You can get water from the sink if you want."
I look around at the kitchen and notice the extreme mess everywhere. "Hey, Nina, if you help me with something, I'll take you and Alexander out for ice cream tomorrow." I had planned on doing that anyway, but she doesn't need to know that.
"Sure! What is it?"
I glance to both sides as if to make sure that nobody's watching us before I lean in and whisper, "We're gonna clean the kitchen as a surprise for Daddy." I must be changing a lot, because, if I was at my actual house, no way in hell would I ever clean anything without being forced to do it with a shotgun to my head.
Guess being transported to another universe leaves you an entirely different person. But then again, Amestris has no Wi-Fi, rock music, or anything else that I would be interested in.
And that changes me into Snow White? Bull.
Amestris really is a hellhole, just like Sunnydale.
Sabrina
"I want to go home," Tristan mutters beneath his breath, and I can't stop myself from nodding in agreement.
Once the novelty of being in a new universe wore off, I began to feel the same way. Following a serial killer around an unfamiliar city in an unfamiliar world isn't that much fun. I know it's very surprising.
"Me too," I say back after a pause. We're sitting in yet another alleyway, and rain is beginning to drizzle, running down the bricks relentlessly. I press myself further against the wall, as if it could provide some sort of cover. "If I could, I would go home."
"Then why don't you?" Scar asks me.
I turn my head to look at him, and see that it's a genuine question, and not deadpan sarcasm. "It's a bit more complicated than just hopping on a train and waiting. It's not like I want to be stuck with a serial killer in an alley. Anyways, why haven't you killed anyone here yet?"
"He's waiting for the chaos to die down," Tristan answers for him. "When they stop frantically looking for him, that's when he'll continue going after State Alchemists."
Scar inclines his head slightly as a way of agreement or acknowledgement, I don't know which.
"How many people have you killed so far?"
"Eleven," he replies. "Excluding the last one, all were State Alchemists. The most recent one was the Iron-Blood Alchemist, Basque Grand. All the others weren't as important or as high-up as he was."
Tristan sighs and wipes a raindrop off of his face. "And who're you planning to target now that you're in East City?"
"The first one on my list is Shou Tucker, the Sewing-Life Alchemist. I'll go after him in about one week. That should be enough time."
I hiss in breath through my teeth in recognition of the name. If only I could join him in blowing Tucker's brains out. Only, with my luck, I'd heal the bastard instead of kill him. To distract Scar from my obvious familiarity from that particular State Alchemist, I say, "Sewing-Life Alchemist. That's a stupid title."
"No more stupid than the Crushing Geologist Alchemist," Tristan comments.
Who the hell comes up with these names? I bet Bradley does. "You're kidding me. That can't possibly be an actual title."
He shakes his head and says, "I just came up with it; and how about Golden Cyclone or Pebble Network?"
All I manage to do is ask, "Pebble Network? What the hell would they do? Levitate pretty rocks and make them into patterns. How's the Botanical Ape Alchemist?"
"Phantasm Mail," he replies, "Raven Execution, or Gleaming Tornado."
Groaning, Scar shakes his head and mutters, "You can't be serious."
"Chilling Watchmaker sounds interesting," I respond, grinning. "Or Infernal Maelstrom could work."
"Imagine having to kill the Magical Fossil Alchemist. I think they'd win. But you'd beat Cosmic Wickedness. I think, at least." By now, Tristan's laughing, ignoring the rain pelting down as he continues, "Piercing Incinerator." What would they do? Go stab-stab boom-boom? I wouldn't want to be around them; that's for sure.
Scar stands up and starts to walk away. "I can't deal with you two right now."
Tristan waves at him and calls, "Don't forget to deal with the Grand Bombardier Alchemist!"
"Or Ethereal Inferno," I add. "He's quite dangerous." He glares at me and keeps walking away until he's out of sight.
"That was… interesting." Tristan says.
"You started it," I say. "So don't go blaming me for making our serial killer friend run off in pure horror."
He smirks and runs a hand through his hair, soaking both the ground and his shirt. "Since when was he our friend?" he asks.
I glare at him and say, "Shut up, you little terror."
"Why don't you make me?"
"What are you two doing in this alleyway?"
I turn my head to see a man that I vaguely recognize heading towards up. Only when I realize that he smells like an ashtray do I remember his name. Yup, that's Jean Havoc walking in our direction. And he looks either pissed or annoyed. Either would be a good word to describe him at the moment. Maybe it's because the rain extinguished his cigarette.
Tristan tilts his head to one side and asks, "Is there a problem, officer?"
"Is there a problem I should know about?"
Just like one of my English teachers, always reflecting your questions back to you in a way that makes you feel incredibly stupid.
If the problem he's asking us about is the fact that we're traveling with a serial killer, then yes, there's a problem. "I don't see any problem here, simply two teenagers sitting in an alley."
Havoc asks, "Teenagers? How old are you exactly?"
"Older than your naked grandma," Tristan growls, "what do you think? I'm thirteen and she's sixteen."
He looks at us in confusion. "There's no way you're thirteen."
"You're right. I'm nine hundred and thirty years old. No, it's not my fault I'm a midget who has always looked younger than I am!"
"But it is your fault that you have the temperament of a rabid ferret," I mutter.
"Oh, shut the hell up, you two." Havoc raises his eyebrows, but then glances out of the corner of his eye. "Whoever you are, why don't you come out with your hands in the air?" He starts to pull a gun out, but suddenly freezes when something clicks.
A voice from behind him says, "Drop the gun or you're dead."
Couldn't someone have tried to rob us when we had our little serial killer friend with us instead of an officer?
Havoc slowly puts his gun on the ground, and I can see who it is; the cop from the train, the one channeling the spirit of a dead mob boss.
"What the hell are you doing here, Capone?" I ask, more confused than anything else.
"You know very well what I'm doing here, you punk. And I don't know who you think I am, but my name is Ritchie." Ritchie's holding a revolver to the back of Havoc's head, and I'm sure the hammer is cocked back, given the sound it made earlier.
Havoc seems understandably very uncomfortable with the whole situation. "Uh, why exactly are you doing this, Ritchie?"
"These brats are wanted criminals, officer. They're suspected of being accomplices of a serial killer who targets State Alchemists. I suggest you get out of here and forget that you ever came into this alley in the first place." He shifts the gun until it's pointing at me, which is lovely. I've never had a gun pointed directly at my face before.
"As a member of the Amestrian military, I can't step away from this situation. Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to put down your weapon and put your hands in the air."
"I was a cop too, before these two caused me to lose my job!" Ritchie waves his gun in the air and I can't keep myself from wondering how well-trained he is. "I bet you're in contact with the others too!"
Tristan stares at him and asks, "Others?"
"They said their names were Leonard Church, Michael Caboose, and Richard Simmons, but they were definitely lying."
Havoc mutters the names under his breath, like he recognizes them or something. "You're the cop, the one who just got fired for police brutality, aren't you? Smashing a civilian's wrist into a table simply because you thought he was a suspect?" Ouch. That must've hurt.
"He was a suspect, and he wasn't even being discreet about lying! In fact he seemed proud of his involvement with a crime boss!" He seems ready to pull the trigger by now.
"You mangled the arm of a child, Ritchie. So why don't you put the gun down and walk away from this right now?"
Ritchie shakes his head vigorously and says, "Don't you see? It has to end here and now. And I will be the one to end it." He lowers the gun and aims it at Tristan, saying, "Starting with you. Then I'll go back to Dublith to deal with the other three punks. I suggest you get on your knees, officer, right now."
Glancing at the ground, Havoc nods slightly and does as he says.
"Now, you infernal brat, say–"
Multiple gunshots ring out, and it takes me a moment to figure out that Ritchie is the one with various bullet holes. Then I see Havoc holding his gun, the one he had been forced to drop. "What a bastard," he mutters as the body falls to the pavement with a crash. "He shouldn't've ever become a cop." He stands up and asks, "You two alright?"
I get up, making my best ehh face. "I guess we're as alright as we could be."
"Now, what was he talking about when he said you were accomplices to a serial killer?" Havoc asks, putting his gun away.
"He saw us on a train, somewhat near a guy he suspected to be a serial killer. Needless to say, we're not travelling with a wanted murderer." Tristan shrugs as he's talking. "He must've been insane or something."
Well, there are two things he isn't lying about. What's this, two truths and a lie? No way is this our first day in middle school, buddy. I'm not going through that kind of hell again.
"So, you're sure you're both okay?"
Along with Tristan, I nod, but I'm the one who says, "We're fine, officer. Thanks for the help."
Havoc sighs and lights up a new cigarette. "Make sure to take care of yourselves." He goes out of the alleyway, leaving us with a dead, shot-up body.
"He's gonna come back with reinforcements, isn't he?" Tristan mutters, turning towards me.
"Definitely," I respond, "the body's still here, right? Which means that he's gotta come back to this place and report what happened. That's probably going to include arresting us, or at least holding us on suspicious charges. We better leave as soon as Scar gets back." I look in where our said serial killer friend went in, and, sure enough, he's there, as if by magic. "Oh, hey, we should go, like right now, before the cops get back."
Scar stares at us in disbelief and shakes his head, stalking towards us. "What the hell happened here?"
Tristan makes an ehh face just like mine and says, "Our buddy from the train decided to have a little chat with us. Unfortunately for him, he attacked a cop, who shot him repeatedly in self-defense. So we better get going now."
"Are – you're actually serious." Scar groans when we don't reply. "What are you waiting for? We have to go, unless you want to be arrested, that is."
I glance at Tristan, who says, "No, I don't particularly want to be interrogated." They start to go out of the alley, and I follow them.
"So," I ask, "what were you up to while we were being held at gunpoint? Going out on a coffee date? With Ritchie's ex-wife, if my suspicions are correct. The dead cop," I clarify. "Apparently he lost his job due to police brutality, which, if anything, is reasonable. I'd say he's a conspiracy theorist at best. Thought we were in cohorts with the people who got him fired."
Tristan rolls his eyes and tugs on the sleeves of his new – stolen, obviously – coat until they're covering both of his hands. He thought it would be best if he didn't go around wearing a bloody officer's jacket, so he had ditched that when we arrived at East City. "You're insane, you know that?"
"Of course I do, but what exactly clued you in?"
"Thinking Scar would ever go out on a date, especially getting coffee. He's more the type who blows your brains out and asks questions later." Tristan smirks when he sees the look on Scar's face. "Did I strike a nerve, lover boy?"
Scar glowers at him and growls, "I do advise you to keep your infernal mouth shut before you suddenly don't have one anymore."
"I could say the same to you," Tristan drawls mockingly. "But in a different context."
"What's that sup – oh," I whisper, snapping my mouth closed and marching ahead of both of them. "Once you two can act like mature human beings, I'll stop ignoring you." This is going to take a very long time. I wouldn't equate either of them with mature human beings at their best time, let alone now. But I don't mind walking in silence. Near-silence is more accurate. Tristan is snickering under his breath, and I can hear Scar glaring at him in his Scar-like way.
What the hell did I get myself into? Travelling with a serial killer and a midget with a nasty attitude was not what I signed up with.
Griffin
I stare in disbelief out at the city as I follow Al through it. Nothing here is ringing a bell, which is alarming, to say the least. I had thought that maybe I would've remembered it once I saw more of it, but, so far, that hasn't happened yet.
It's been a grand total of three days since we got off of the train. Ed and Al haven't dragged me into some new adventure yet, and I am disappointed with them. I'd expected that this strange place would practically be a setting for an action movie. Obviously, I was wrong. It seems to me like it's just a boring city, exactly like the ones in Earth.
"Soo, why are we strolling around here for the fourth time?" I ask conversationally, "Because I've practically memorized this entire area."
"Ed has to fill out paperwork about the incident in Liore, and didn't want either of us to bother him."
By that, I'm sure Al means that Ed didn't want me to bother him. Two days ago, he had started on it in the hotel room. I got bored and accidentally ended up activating my weird power and plummeting through the floor to land on top of a random person who happened to be sitting in the lobby at the worst time possible.
That was extremely hard to explain.
"Hey, Al, Grif, wait up!" Lo and behold, Ed's running towards us.
"Ed, you're supposed to be doing paperwork," Al sighs, shaking his head resignedly.
"To hell with paperwork, I'm taking a break. Now, where're we going?" Seeing Al glare down at him, Ed shrugs and keeps walking with his hands in his pockets.
I honestly have no idea where Al's heading towards, so I let the big giant himself speak. "To a market," he says. "I've heard it's a must-see when visiting East City." He stops and turns his head at an alleyway, as if he heard something from it. "Hey, Ed, it's a kitten!"
Sure enough, he's picked up a kitten. Not a fully-grown cat, but a kitten. How can he even hear that well?
Ed shakes his head and says, "Put it back, Al. We can't adopt a pet."
"Brother, I can't just leave it out in the rain!"
I look up at the sky to find that there's not a single cloud out. Nonexistent pants are about to be set on fire.
"Al, it's not even raining!" Ed seems to have come to the same conclusion that I did. "Grif and I will keep walking without you if you don't put it back." Dragging me into their silly feud; what a bastard.
"Fine, then. I'll go find an owner for it, and I'll meet you at the market." Al stalks away from us, holding the kitten in his arms.
"You have no idea how to get there, do you?" I ask.
He frowns and says, "Nope. But we'll figure it out eventually."
When has that phrase ever worked out? I can think of at least three-dozen instances where the speaker meets his gratuitous doom at the hands of a trigger-happy gunman.
This is going to be quite the experience. I'll be able to put it on my résumé.
Somehow, Ed and I manage to find the market that Al told us about, probably by sacrificing one of our souls in the process.
"This isn't creepy at all," Ed mutters beneath his breath, looking suspiciously around at the rows of booths surrounding us. "Why the hell did Al think it was a good idea to come here?"
I have to agree with him. Everything seems so… off, like this is the first scene in a stupid horror movie involving ghosts, demons, crazy psycho killers, the whole shebang. I'm not very inclined to die a gruesome death for the sake of advancing the plot.
"He did say he's never been here," I say, shrugging. "So he probably didn't realize that this part of East City is creeper-town."
"You can say that again." He shakes his head and continues, "Where is Al, anyway?"
"How am I supposed to know?" I turn my head to do a double-take of one booth in particular. It's completely empty, in sharp contrast with the other stalls. Nobody sits behind the counter, and there's not even a sign that anybody ever did. "I suggest we get out of here as soon as we can."
Someone taps on my shoulder, and I flip around to see that it's only Al.
"A little warning next time, please?" I practically shriek, narrowly avoiding jumping three feet in the air. However, I don't hear his reply because my gaze has landed on what is easily the strangest stall in the entire market.
Unless I'm losing my sight, it's covered in lemons, to the point that I can smell them from about twenty feet away. I wander over to it and look over the piles of fruit at the two men behind the counter.
They look like they're identical twins, both with brownish-blonde hair, although one has cut it short while the other hasn't. The long-haired one holds one of the lemons in his hand, and it seems like he's carving it with a pocketknife. The other's sitting there, looking bored; he's the one who looks up at me first.
"I'm assuming you like lemons," he says flatly. In his hands, he's fiddling absentmindedly with a Swiss army knife.
As a matter of fact, I hate lemons with the burning passion of a thousand suns. "Huh?"
He sighs and asks, "Why else would you single out our stall if you didn't like lemons? The name is Leo Lloyd, by the way, and this is my brother, Lukas Leopold." He jerks his thumb toward his companion as he talks.
Lukas Leopold, if that's his real name, hasn't bothered to divert his attention from the lemon he holds. Now that I'm closer, I can see that he is carving it. I glance down at the lemons on the counter, and see that, indeed, they're all engraved. With faces; this strikes me as disturbing. I can make out a few animals, but mostly, they're people.
"Okay," I say, backing away slowly, "I'm actually allergic to lemons. Gotta go, sorry, see ya!" I walk as fast as I can back to Ed and growl, "We've gotta get the hell outta here!"
He simply stares at the stall and points at it, so I turn around.
Crap.
Al's standing by the booth with a lemon in his gigantic hand and is looking down at it intently; I am pretty sure that it has a cat face carved into it. "You're the entrepreneurs?"
Finally glancing up, Lukas Leopold nods eagerly and says, "Indeed, we are! Obviously, you like cats." He gestures, not at the lemon, but at the kitten that suddenly appeared on Al's shoulder.
Ed stalks over to the booth, hissing, "I thought you were going to find a home for that demon!"
Al puts down the lemon and picks up the kitten. "Nobody could take her."
"So you decide to keep her yourself and not tell me?!"
"Well, what was I supposed to do – leave her out in the rain?"
It's not even raining right now, but I don't think the brothers realize that pivotal fact.
Leo Lloyd seems fixated on staring at the cat, to the point where he looks like he's possessed by the cat god of cattiness or something like that. "I can take her," he offers suddenly.
"Yes – wait, what?" Ed swivels around to face him, and so does Al. "Are you serious?"
Lukas Leopold shrugs and says, "As long as we can name her Leonidas, we can take her." He keeps carving that stupid lemon nonchalantly, like he doesn't realize that Leonidas is clearly a guy's name. Wasn't it the guy from the Sparta movie that my history teacher hated? Probably this movie doesn't exist here.
"We'll even let you take a complimentary lemon," Leo Lloyd adds. It's as if he wants all of those lemons to disappear. I'm not putting it past him.
Ed glances at Al, and Al glances at Ed. They seem to come to a general consensus, but Ed's the one who says, "Sure. You can keep your lemons, though. We wouldn't want to deprive you of your source of income."
"Deal," Lukas Leopold and Leo Lloyd say in complete unison. The latter takes the kitten.
As soon as Ed and Al walk back towards me, I turn around and start power-walking the hell out of this market. "Have fun with your cat!" I call over my shoulder. When I do get the hell out of the market, I ask, "Now what?"
"Ed, you probably should check in with the Colonel," Al says.
Ed groans, shaking his head and kicking the corner of a building without putting much thought into it. "Ah. You're probably right, dammit." He starts trudging off in a direction that, to me, seems random, but I hope he knows where he's going. "I bet he can't wait to make fun of me, that bastard."
"Who's the Colonel?" I ask, following him.
"Basically, he's Ed's boss," Al answers for him, "he's–"
"–He's a bastard, like I said."
If Al was able to raise his eyebrows, he most definitely would do that now. He sighs, "Brother, just because you don't like him, it doesn't make him a bastard."
Ed rolls his eyes and heads up a staircase leading to a huge building that looks like the White House on drugs. Don't ask how I know what the White House on drugs looks like. I myself am not quite sure. He reaches the top and goes in, and I keep walking after him until we reach a large, open room.
"Master Sergeant Fuery, how's the radio?" Asks the woman who's sitting at the table in the dead center of the room. All of the people that were here before we arrived are in matching military uniforms. If this turns out to be another cult, I'm going to flip out. And a flipped-out Griffin is not something anybody wants to see.
Tinkering with a clearly broken radio, a man – I assume he's Fuery – stops and sits back. "The receiver on this thing's seen better days." He leans forward again, resuming his work. "I think I'm gonna have to replace it."
Ed simply claps and puts one of his hands on the radio, enveloping it in a bright blue light, which fades, leaving the machine looking brand-new.
"Hey, it's Edward and Alphonse!" Fuery says, looking up at them and smiling, but his grin fades slightly when he sees me. "And… who're you?"
I sigh, "Griffin. Just a random stranger they met on a train. Don't ask."
He pushes his glasses up and stares up at me before shrugging.
The woman doesn't glance up from the paperwork once as she says, "Welcome back, boys. Go on in, the Colonel's expecting you."
As it turns out, this aforementioned Colonel doesn't look like I had pictured him at all. Judging by Ed's description of him, I'd imagined a militaristic Father Cornello, not a young man. "Who's this?" He asks Ed and Al, as if I'm invisible and not sitting squished between them.
I'm about to reply when Ed answers, "A random stranger. His name's Grif." My mouth snaps shut with a click as I glare up at the Colonel, who's apparently known as Roy Mustang. I guess he really is a bastard after all.
"And why is he here?"
"Because I want him here," Ed growls, narrowing his eyes. "Is that all you want to know, or is there more?"
Mustang stares at me suspiciously; finally, he shakes his head. "No, I suppose not. Well done on the Liore case, you… three. Nice work. I appreciate you resolving the matter, although I fail to see how your friend could have helped you in the situation."
I narrow my eyes at him and jump into a standing position, stomping on my inner voice that's telling me to sit the hell down now. "Is that so, you arrogant bastard?"
"Get out," he hisses at me, apparently struggling very hard to make his words civil and even.
"I'd like to see you get off your a–"
With that, I find myself kicked out of Mustang's office and into the room I was in earlier. Every person there is staring at me, and I stand up and shrug. "Apparently, the Colonel was in a pissy mood today. Wonder why."
The two men sitting next to Fuery starts snickering uncontrollably; the blonde one snorts, "He must be still pissed off about that Clemens girl."
"You're lucky he didn't burn your eyebrows off," the redhead chimes in, smirking.
"Second Lieutenants Havoc, Breda, focus on work, please." The woman glances up at me, and I can see that she's unamused.
"Can I ask what all of your names are?" I look out at the five of them that're sitting down – the sixth had apparently gone out of the room.
She nods and says, "I'm First Lieutenant Hawkeye, and you already met Master Sergeant Fuery. He's Warrant Officer Falman," she continues, pointing at the man with gray hair who's sitting next to her. "And those two are Second Lieutenants Havoc and Breda." She gestures first towards the blonde, then the redhead.
I wander over to the table and peer over at one of the piles of paper. It seems like it's a stack of information on wanted people; I pick the top three up and flip through them aimlessly. There aren't any pictures, which is maddeningly unhelpful. "Who are these people?"
Falman walks over to me, looking over my shoulder and saying, "I'll tell you. You picked up the three ringleaders of East City's Mafia."
"Oh, he chose the three demons? Nasty bunch," says Breda.
"Since when does this world have demons?" I ask skeptically.
Havoc shrugs and says, "Every member of this gang chooses the name of a mythological demon as an alias."
Falman points at the papers, which I haven't even bothered to read. "As of right now, we have no clue on their real identities. Therefore, we've got no pictures of any of them. It's hell to find the members of Inferno, as they call themselves."
"This gang has three leaders, and they haven't killed each other yet?" If I knew I was in a city that was the hideout of a mafia, I'd get the hell out and never look back.
Nodding, Breda answers, "Yeah. They specialize in different areas, though. Mephistopheles technically has the highest rank, and is typically the boss people refer to when they talk about Inferno's boss. According to our sources, she's the coldest bitch to ever set foot in Amestris." Apparently, I must make a confused face, because he continues talking. "Yes, Mephistopheles is female. She keeps her position because she's utterly unafraid to torture and murder anyone who ever gets in her way. People who underestimate her, they never come back in one piece."
Yikes. She does sound like the coldest bitch to ever set foot in Amestris. Remind me never to meet her, ever.
"Then there's Lilith, who's the underboss, second only to Mephistopheles. She's the force of the operation. Think of her as Inferno's personal hitman and torturer." Havoc's voice is eerily calm, like he's gotten used to this. "As for how we know Mephistopheles and Lilith are girls," he adds, "people – especially the dying – have a tendency to ramble in their last moments."
It's like a whole line of them; one fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish.
"And Leviathan remains in the shadows," Falman chimes in. "We don't know if they're male or female, or if they're even one person at all. All we do know is that they're the ideas technician and the information and money gatherer; nothing else."
"That's not terrifying at all," I mutter.
The door to Mustang's office opens, and Ed, Al, and the bastard himself come out. "Come on, Grif," Ed says, waving his hand as he continues walking, "we're going."
I do not want to go anywhere that the Colonel is going, but I don't want to continue talking about East City's mafia either. So I follow them. Once I catch up, I ask, "Where're we headed to?"
"The house of a bio-alchemist, Shou Tucker," Al replies. "Remember the chimera that Cornello transmuted right in front of us?"
Yeah, like I could forget that lion-bird-snake hybrid thingy. "Uh-huh. It scared the hell out of me."
Ed smirks and says, "Tucker's an expert on chimeras. Or, at least that's what the Colonel tells me."
Glaring down at him, Mustang is about to reply when we reach the front door.
I push it open with my shoulder and stand outside, waiting until all three of them have come out before I ask, "What now?"
"We go to our car," Mustang says, heading towards an ancient-looking piece of crap that looks like it's held together by super-glue, tape, and prayer. "His house isn't that far from here."
Somehow, probably due to the fact that I've pissed off some pissy pagan midget dwarf god or something like that, I end up sitting next to the bastard and across from Ed and Al.
The Colonel looks down at a sheet of paper on a clipboard that he's holding as he talks. "Two years ago, Tucker transmuted a chimera that could understand human speech. That earned him his certification as a State Alchemist."
"Understand human speech, you mean – wait, you mean it talks, a chimera?" Ed leans forward in his seat eagerly.
This Tucker dude must be skilled, because the lion-bird-snake hybrid I saw didn't look like it was about to talk anytime soon.
Mustang nods and says, "Right. Supposedly, it only said one thing: I want to die. After that, it refused to eat until it got its wish."
Wait, what? And this guy is regarded as an authority on chimeras, even though he seems no better than Cornello? Bull. "Have you ever met Tucker?" I ask him.
"The first time I actually talked to him was four days ago, and it was only for a brief period of time." He looks out of the window as the car glides to a stop. "Oh look, we're here already," he says in a voice that betrays the fact that he's not surprised at all.
I can tell the place is hella ginormous as soon as I step out of the car, if you can even call it that. Mustang rings the doorbell, or what I think is the doorbell.
"Man, this house is huge!" Ed says, seconds before I hear a howl and his screech of terror.
I turn around and see that a fricking mammoth of a dog is sitting on top of him. All I do is laugh uncontrollably, but Al kneels down by him and asks, "You okay, Ed?"
"I shall vanquish you, you veritable hellhound!" At the front door, for some screwed-up reason, is Lorelei, holding a fencing sword. She looks at me, and then at Ed and Al. "Hey there, I guess we meet again…"
Ed practically shrieks, "Lorelei? What the hell are you doing here?"
"Brother, be nice," Al sighs, shaking his head.
She lowers the sword and rolls her eyes, and that's when I see a young girl peering around her legs. "Nina," Lorelei says, "Can you go–"
"–Tell Daddy that there are people here." The girl – apparently, Nina – nods and walks back in the house. Soon after, she reappears with an older man who looks down at the scene in clear amusement.
"Alexander, you know you're not supposed to jump on people," he says; the dog reluctantly gets off of Ed and shakes itself vigorously. "Oh, it's you again, Colonel. Why don't you all come inside?" He opens the door wider and leads us through it and into a dining room.
I purposefully bump into Lorelei and mutter, "Okay, we really need to talk."
She nods and drags me outside again, right next to where the little girl and the dog are sitting under a tree. "How the hell did you get here, Griffin? And why the hell are you traveling with the Elrics of all people?"
Groaning, I sit down next to the girl and lean against the tree, ignoring the branch stabbing me in the shoulder blade. "It's a long story."
Lorelei shrugs and replies, "I'm not going anywhere."
"Who're you?" Nina asks me curiously.
"Uh, my name's Grif. Who're you?"
"I'm Nina and this is Alexander." She points at the dog, who barks at me. "What're you talking about?"
I glance at Lorelei; she says, "We're writing a play, and we're just brainstorming." Wonder why she didn't say movie or TV show, huh. Must be something weird about this world; not having either of those. Nina tilts her head to the right and then turns her attention back to Alexander, leaving the two of us free to talk.
Dammit. How the hell am I supposed to explain all of this without sounding like a complete and utter lunatic?
Lorelei
If I still was on Earth, I'd be convinced that Griffin is a complete and utter lunatic. But I'm not, so I have no choice but to believe him. Hell, my story is even crazier than his. But, weirdly, they both line up in a way that might actually make a sliver of sense.
If you consider sense as being transported into an alternate dimension by a bastard with a bad attitude, that is.
"This is… complicated," Griffin mutters beneath his breath, tapping his foot on the ground. "I can honestly say I didn't see it coming."
"You can say that again."
"I can honestly say I didn't see it coming," he repeats in a deadpan voice, rolling his eyes.
He would most definitely say that again if I had actually told him that we're in a fictional world, and that I know everything that's going to happen here. Like fricking hell I'm going to tell him that. Probably already thinks I'm a psycho – when in reality, I'm a high-functioning sociopath – and I'm not gonna make him think I'm a lunatic too.
"Anyways, what're they still doing inside?" He asks, looking over at the house.
I shrug and say, "My guess is research on bio-alchemy."
Griffin raises his eyebrows and stands up. "Time to crash their boring party," he says. "Want to join?"
"Is the grass green on good days?" I glance down at Nina and Alexander and ask, "Do you two want to raise a little hell?"
Alexander immediately stands up, shaking off his flower crown and giving an utterly demonic bark. She stands up too. And, like a screwed-up quartet, we head inside.
I don't see Tucker anywhere, since he's probably holed up in his lab, and Mustang's already left.
Once I lead them to the library, I glower up at the bookshelves that fill the room. You'd think that at least one of them wouldn't be about alchemy, but no… Tucker sure is a boring bastard, that's for sure.
Not even bothering with the subtle approach, Griffin and Alexander charge right in. But I lean down to Nina and whisper, "Wanna pretend to be pirates?"
She grins up at me and nods vigorously.
"Who do we want to attack first?"
"Hmmm… The big one," she says.
I pull out the sword that I bought due to sheer boredom and lack of sleep. It's able to fold into itself, so I usually keep it in my pocket – obviously, when it is folded.
Nina takes out her weapon of choice – a slingshot, perfect for shooting pebbles at the back of your enemy's head. She peers out from behind one of the bookshelves and says, "He's reading. Grif and Alexander are fighting the shorter one."
Guess I have rubbed off on her in the four days I've been staying here. That's terrifying.
Shifting a book over so I can peer through the gap, I see that Alphonse is standing up on the other side, reading a book and not paying any attention to his surroundings. I let a manic grin appear on my face, and shove my sword through the opening, knocking off his head, sending it clattering to the floor.
Headless, he stumbles around until he trips on his helmet and crashes to the ground. He picks up his head and puts it back on. "Hey, that's no fair!"
"Fair? You expect me to be fair? That's quite a mistake; up on your feet, you ruffian!" I stroll over to him and shake my head dramatically. "Trust me, you need a break. And it happens to come in the form of a temperamental teenage girl," I say, dropping my overdramatic persona for a moment.
For a moment, everything is silent, like the calm before a storm. I know that sound. Dammit. I sidestep, barely avoiding being smashed into the carpet by Alexander, who sails over my head and crashes into Alphonse.
Griffin's chasing after the hellhound with energy only Griffin could possess. He flings himself on top of the dog – and therefore on the suit of armor as well – with a battle cry consisting mostly of unrepeatable swears. And, since it's me saying that his swears are unrepeatable, believe it. But Jason – he'd consider Griffin's vocabulary to be child's play.
I'll never understand how I'm friends – acquaintances, really – with such weird, screwed-up people.
Edward just stands there staring at the Alphonse, Alexander, and Griffin when he walks over to see what all the noise is about.
"Can you two get off me?" Alphonse groans, his face pressed into the ground, and they do. He stands up again and brushes imaginary dirt off of himself. "Thanks. Anyways, what was all that for?"
"Boredom," Griffin answers simply, shrugging loosely. "That's pretty much it."
The demon dog turns his head to face Edward, and I automatically know what'll happen. He gives a howl and launches himself at the Fullmetal midget, sending the both of them smashing to the floor with a bang.
I sidle up to Alphonse and push him into the fray, but he grabs onto my arm at the last second and drags me down with him. And Nina shoves Griffin on top of me – well, the pile, really; it's mainly because I'm at the top – and then decides to jump on top of him.
"Get off of me, you mangy mutt!" Edward screams, and Alexander mainly pants happily, even though he's nearly at the bottom.
"Whose foot is in my face?" Alphonse asks.
I tilt my foot forward and hear it hit metal, so I say, "Uh, I think it's mine. Sorry."
"I can't see a goddamn thing," growls Griffin, his elbow digging into my side. Nina simply starts laughing, probably because she's not getting slowly crushed by numerous people and one dog.
Of course, that's when I hear the library door open with a squeak that tells me it really needs to be oiled.
"Hey, Chief, your ride has arrived," Havoc says, pausing before he asks, "what're you guys up to down there?"
"Trying to get Ed to remember that he's a midget," Griffin answers.
With that, Edward shoves himself into a standing position, causing everyone to go flying across the room. He looks positively demonic in his rage. "Who're you calling a pipsqueak so tiny that he can't even be seen under a microscope?!"
"You," I say, pushing myself up against the wall until I'm standing, "hard of hearing as well as a runt?"
"After all that, you must be dog tired," says Tucker. When he realizes that it's a dad joke – even a bastard evil screwed-up dad joke – he laughs into his hand. "Why don't you come on back tomorrow?"
Holy hell, that means tomorrow is the night, the D-Day itself. And, so far, my plan is sketchy at best, shoddy at worst.
Nina looks up at Alphonse excitedly and asks, "You're really going to come again?"
He waves at her and nods. "We'll play some more tomorrow, okay, Nina?"
"Okay!"
Tucker leads all of us out to the front doorway, but he, Nina, Alexander, and I stay inside while Havoc, Edward, Griffin, and Alphonse trudge out.
Havoc stops and turns around, saying, "Oh, Mr. Tucker, I almost forgot. I've got a message for you; it's from the Colonel. He says 'Don't forget, Assessment Day is coming soon.'"
"Yes, please assure him I know."
"Right," he says, nodding and resuming his walking until he catches up with the others.
Tucker shuts the doors and goes straight into his laboratory without looking back.
Nina stares up at me with her huge, unblinking eyes. "What does Assessment Day mean?" She asks.
Hmm, how to explain this in a way that would make sense to a four-year-old? "Every year, all State Alchemists have to turn in their research to keep their job. That's why he always studies so much."
"I'm sure Daddy will do great! He always does."
"Yeah, I know he'll do great too." With his eyes gouged out with a Spork, I don't add. No need to traumatize this poor girl. I may be an eye-gouger, but I'm not the type to traumatize little girls who're already traumatized. "Hey, Nina," I say, having been struck with an idea. "Would you be interested in going to the zoo tomorrow? We can get back in time to see the boys." It's a blatant lie, but I'm a blatant liar, so that's that. "Alexander could come too."
She thinks over it for a second, and then asks, "Daddy's okay with it?"
I don't give a flying cornbread what Shou Tucker thinks. "I'll ask him in the morning. He's busy studying now. Okay?"
Nina nods emphatically and turns to her lovely hellhound. "Alexander, did you hear? We get to go to the zoo tomorrow!" He barks in acknowledgement.
Sometime later, I end up back in my room. I close and lock the door behind me, and then look for a pad of paper and a pen, which I find on the windowsill. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, I uncap the pen and rest the pad against my leg. It's probably best to write a note and not just disappear into thin air.
Griffin,
You're probably – fine, definitely – wondering why I'm gone, along with Alexander and Nina.
It's pivotal that you know the truth about Shou Tucker. He may seem nice and docile, if a bit too concerned with maintaining his State Alchemist position. But, in actuality, he's a madman and a psychopath. Two years ago, he combined his wife with a dog to create the first talking chimera.
He's planning on doing it again to pass this year's Assessment Day, but this time using Nina and Alexander. Don't ask how I know this; it's not important at the moment.
Because of this, I'm taking them and getting the hell away from him. Hopefully, by the time you read this, we'll be in Central.
Do not trust this son of a bitch, and do not, at any time, let yourself – or anyone else – be alone with him. Alert Second Lieutenant Havoc about this the very second you see him. And, Griffin, don't you fricking dare to try to confront him by yourself. This bastard is willing to transform his own daughter into an animal. Just think of what he would do to you.
Lorelei
I recap the pen and put it on the little nightstand next to my bed. Now, where to put the note in a place that only Griffin would think to find it? In my pillowcase is probably the best option, so that's where I put it.
It's tomorrow; there's just one more day until I stop feeling like fricking Annie.
Already, I can tell that I'm going to get no sleep at all tonight. I won't even bother trying.
Author's Notes
Title: Escape is a song by 30 Seconds to Mars, and the lyrics at the start of the chapter are from it.
Leo and Lukas: Basically, these two guys are based off of lilaclily00, from her story "LemoNeko". In it, there's Ed, Al, an entrepreneur, lemons, and cats. Read it. Just read it.
Thanks to An Arm and a Leg for being my beta! (And I will now use my nonexistent powers of persuasion to convince you to read her story, because I'm her beta. It's like the betaing Circle of Life, or something along that nature. But seriously, just read her story, to make me happy?)
The next update is two Sundays from now, in case you were wondering.
And thanks to everyone who reads and reviews!
