Chapter 7: To Take What You Want

Izumi and Sig sure knew how to treat their guests. The couple had gone all out in preparing a genuine home-cooked meal, complete with all the savory smells and almost glowing sight of the hot food that had Beryl salivating in her chair. The meat from their shop made the stuff in Rush Valley look like dog scraps, and the now dirt-free girl ripped the stuff from the bone with manner akin to a starving animal. Once the bones on her plate were scraped clean, she stuffed her face with several of the dinner rolls Izumi had baked herself. They were still hot and the steam from the fluffiness inside filled her nose with a smell that reminded her of what a home should be. No shortage of delicious food or clean clothes or warm beds.

Something she had not had for herself since she was a little girl.

However, while her table manners were abysmal at best, Sig and Izumi didn't say anything, so she decided not to question it. Alphonse wasn't eating anything though, despite the prepared plate of food in front of him, he just kind of sat there not making a sound or even moving. Who wears armor to the dinner table anyway? Her manners weren't good but they weren't that bad.

Sig seemed to notice the same thing, "You aren't eating Al?" he asked around a mouthful of chicken.

Beryl watched him emerge from a sort of stupor, still and unmoving to as lively as a fourteen-year-old boy usually tended to be. "Oh no, I'm fine, I had a big meal on the train ride here!" he insisted.

A dinner rolls in each hand and half of one still being chewed in her mouth, she raised an eyebrow. "What, no he didn't…"

"Hey Al! You should tell them about Rush Valley! About the baby being delivered!" Edward quickly interrupted, changing the subject and causing Beryl to fix him with a curious look. He narrowed his eyes, silently telling her to drop it. She just shrugged and went back to stuffing her face.

Wasn't her business anyway…

The big guy practically lit up though, "Oh yeah! We helped deliver a baby, there was this big storm and we couldn't get the mother to a doctor…"

"I don't know, it's pretty generous to call what we did helping…"

The two got lost recounting the story, excluding the part where Beryl almost got herself killed as well as how they met in the first place, which she was somewhat thankful for; she didn't need more people like Edward looking down on her and calling her a street rat, flea bag, bum, or even…

Alley Cat…

Drowning her thoughts with more food, she noticed how Sig looked to his wife. Concern? Seeping into his features, but she didn't think he had anything to worry about, Izumi looked completely indifferent, only smiling as the brothers told her about Satella and how brave she was during the birth.

"Well, it was mostly Winry… but everyone pitched in, everyone's blessed when a baby is born, huh?"

For some reason, Izumi looked much older in that moment. Her eyebrows taught but her smile still gentle… kind of like that of a stern mother, a bit like Ines used to be, but much more coarse and tough compared to Beryl's own mother.

"Yes, that's right." she sighed, "That same miracle that brings us all into this world, always take pride in the lives that were given you."

Edward and Alphonse exchanged a happy look, but Sig stared down at his now untouched food… sadly…

Beryl set down her fourth roll, the bread only half-eaten.

She suddenly didn't feel all that hungry anymore.


Beryl could not even begin to tell you how tempting it was to dive into the bed like a child at a sleepover. Enough to the point of her saying to hell with it and diving in anyway, bouncing twice before settling in the unbelievably comfortable duvet. Her mattress on top of Garfiel's was nowhere near this soft, not to mention this bed had a headboard, and was completely devoid of mold and fleas too.

Man, she thought, crossing her arms behind her head on the crisp, clean pillow, I could get used to those Boobs if it means living like this.

She then scoffed; those brothers had been nothing but a pain in her arse, and she was starting to think it wasn't because of some stupid lunch bill that made Edward drag her around by the scruff. Maybe it was his wounded pride, or Alphonse getting attached to Pepper and this was all an elaborate scheme to steal her cat. Unlikely, but even still, Pepper was her pet! And had been since she pulled him out of a literal gutter, pleading with her dad to let her keep him because she knew Ines would never agree.

Her father did relent, and Pepper had been by her side ever since.

Beryl's thoughts drifted some more as she began to doze off. Even if Edward was still pricked about the food, it's not like she stole his wallet or something valuable like Paninya did, it was just one lousy meal. Not to mention, the jerk was a big and fancy state alchemist, and she heard from around town that the military paid them decent cash, so she didn't even rob him of that much.

He was just an angry little sod with a bruised ego and a weirdo for a brother.

Beryl huffed, bunching the blanket up in her fists before burrowing into it, Pepper curling up in the crook of her legs as she began to drift to sleep.

What did they know anyway? The only way to get by in this world is to take what you want.

And give nothing back.


"She's so filthy!"

"Go on! Hit her some more!"

"Kick her face too!"

Their voices came out muffled and slurred like they were deep underwater, and Beryl hugged her head tighter to block their kicks and keep them from bruising her face any more. The neighborhood boys always chased her through the street when they caught her trying to beg their parents for food, they almost never caught her, but when they did, they always made a point to leave her bruised and bloody.

"Leem me arone!" she screamed at them, unable to hear their mocking laughter at her slurred manner of speaking.

"Listen to her talk! What're you even saying?" one of them taunted, but Beryl could only see his lips moving as he sneered down at her. She curled her upper lip in an attempt at a threatening snarl, but the ginger-haired boy only kicked her stomach again.

His sandy-headed friend pulled her ear painfully until she whimpered submissively. "Talk normally, you freak!"

The third boy, the baker's son, grabbed the scruff of her shirt and used it to thrash her around like a limp doll. "Le' go om me!"

"What was that? Sorry, I can't understand you, stupid!"

Feeling something trickle down from her ear, Beryl knew her stitches had torn again, and that she had to stop them before they did any more damage. Grabbing a fistful of dirt, she threw it in the ginger boy's face, affectively blinding him and darting away while he was distracted. He cried and rubbed his eyes as tears sprouted free, and his friends focused on him while she managed to get away, ducking into an alley and hiding behind a trash bin until they gave up looking for her.

She felt like hugging her knees and crying, but she settled for gritting her teeth and clenching her weak fists over her knees. Those rotten boys always sought her out when they had time on their hands; pulling her hair and calling her stupid, throwing trash and stones at her, and telling their parents that she was a thief and a liar. So they turned up their noses in disgust too.

Touching her jawline, and looking at her bloody fingers, Beryl opened the trashcan and looked for something to clean it off with. Finding an old rag, she pressed it to her ear, wincing as it throbbed like a heartbeat inside her head.

That heartbeat and the ringing that came when it got too loud, was all she could hear anymore.

Her stomach growled painfully, reminding her of why those boys targeted her today in the first place. She had been digging around in the baker's garbage, and his son had spotted her, prompting the chase that lead to where she was now. She had managed to find some barely moldy bread, but had dropped it in her escape, and was now left with nothing.

Beryl held her stomach in an attempt to quiet it down, but to no avail. She was getting weaker and weaker every day; if she didn't eat something, she'd surely starve to death.

She did not want to steal, but in this matter of life and death, she didn't have any other choice. Peeking out from the shadows of the alley, Beryl surveyed the foot traffic; mostly men between their break times, and women with their young children. A few people looked clean enough to at least have some cenz to spare, but nothing easily accessible to a pickpocket. Beryl guessed that was kind of the point, but her stomach gurgled in protest regardless.

Deciding to try and come across someone in a crowd, she fisted her hands in the holed pockets of her ratty dress and emerged from the alley, trying to look as ordinary as possible t not attract attention. However, in a town like Dublith, a scrappy eight-year-old girl covered in filth tended to be avoided. Her appearance practically screamed thieving orphan, and while it gained some sympathy, it was never enough to keep her well fed.

Moreover, she refused to go to an orphanage. She would starve even quicker in there, she was sure of it.

Suddenly, her odd-colored eyes caught someone in the crowd just ahead of her path. It was a man, huge in stature but skinny in frame, wearing mostly leather with a fur-collared vest and tinted sunglasses. She'd never seen him before, assuming him a visitor, but what drew her eyes the most was the weighed pouch dangling from his belt. It shifted with his every step, no doubt filled with coins, enough to buy a meal big enough to stave her hunger. The mere thought of it made her mouth water; Beryl shook her head, not tearing her eyes away from the pouch as the man drew closer and closer to her.

She would have to be fast, grab the pouch and run with all her strength. As strange of a dresser he was, the man looked strong enough to beat her worse than those boys could ever hope to, and she did not want to be on the receiving end of those large arms of his.

Acting before she could think to hesitate, Beryl grabbed the pouch tight and snatched it from his belt, breaking into a run and clutching the bag to her chest like a lifeline as she shoved past people in the crowd. When the man did not yell after her or even look up, she smiled excitedly, thinking she had successfully secured her dinner.

She almost managed to get away from the crowd too, but a strong hand snatching her by the back of her dress interrupted her shallow victory. The hand held her above the ground while she kicked and thrashed, but as much as she struggled, the man was too strong to be affected by a scrawny girl such as herself.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here, a little flea bag!" Blue and brown met the man's tinted specs, gulping as he flashed her a grin that was both amused and hungry in a way that made her skin crawl. He grabbed at the pouch in her arms and tried to take it back, but Beryl held it tight, shaking her head violently and refusing to let go. "Wow… the flea bag has guts, too bad you won't live to brag about it!"

His vice-like grip on her released and she dropped to the ground with a thud. She made a move to scurry away, but the man firmly planted the sole of his boot on her cheek, painfully pinning her to the dirt. Even so, as tears stung her eyes, she did not let go of the bag of coins, knowing she'd die without it.

The man grabbed a fistful of her hair and tugged at it hard, "You know flea bag, I really wanted to spend that money on some delicious food and women, so you're getting in the way of what I want." His fanged grin looked poised enough to bite her, but Beryl squeezed her eyes shut and held the bag as close to her tiny body as possible. "And no one gets in the way of what I want."

"No!" she cried, swiping her stubby nails across his face in a weak attempt to scratch him. "I nead id do ge' food! If I don' I'll die!"

He briefly stopped pulling her hair, only to burst into a roaring laughter that prompted the deaf girl to peak out through her eyelashes. His voice was only a series of garbled sounds and vibrations in her deaf ears, but the way he kept beating and clawing for his money, she could guess what he wanted. However, the way he laughed and cackled like a lunatic confused Beryl. What was so funny?

"Whas so funney?"

He clutched his stomach and laughed even harder, drawing strange gazes from onlookers on the street. "Oh man kid! You're hilarious! What the hell is wrong with your voice? You sound like you're choking on your own tongue!" his fingers pinched her earlobe and tugged, triggering a whimper from Beryl and a curious look when a droplet of blood sprung free. He hummed, "Can you even hear what I'm saying?"

Reading his lips, she shook her head, holding her ear tenderly when he finally let go.

"Deaf and dumb! That's a sight for sore eyes!" he shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather pants, the pouch of coins seemingly forgotten. "You know what flea-bag? I'm feeling a little generous today thanks to that laugh you gave me! How about you keep the money, I've got loads to spare, but you have to do something for me first, okay?"

She blinked up at him, dumbfounded; he had been about to beat her into the ground a moment ago, now he was offering her generosity? Beryl clutched the pouch of coins like a comfort object, distrustful of the man who smiled at her like she was his next meal. He definitely wanted something from her, but she was so hungry…

Her stomach roared to life, making the man chuckle lowly once more. "If you're really that hungry, then get yourself some food; you have the money, or… if you really want to eat like a king, I can show you all my tricks." He kneeled down to her level, roughly patting her head like she was a stray dog. "You'll never go hungry again."

"Why?"

He held out his open palm to her, a red lizard curled up on top of his hand that disappeared when Beryl tried to find it again.

"Because you make me laugh, and I could really use a laugh right now."


Be prepared, cause I am about to kick Beryl's ass into next week. Like I explained before, she's acting like a little shit who's prideful, apathetic, and doesn't know that her actions have consequences. Part of it is her circumstance, and part of it is the way she was brought up in the world: by the skin of her teeth. She's an asshole and a victim of circumstance. But she still has a long ways to go before she gets to where she's meant to be. But i'm just rambling at this point to fill space. Leave your questions, comments, reviews in those boxes and i'll see you next time!