Disclaimer: I wish I owned Roy, then we could do fun things together. But not Fullmetal Alchemist, I'd mess it up.
Play With Fire
Prologue
Roy Mustang never knew his parents. He was put up for adoption six months after he was born, for reasons unknown. Someone said that they drowned, but whatever it was, it was most certain that they were gone.
It was also known that his father was an alchemist. A terrible alchemist. His mother was the one that made him stop, but something about him being an alchemist was a factor in their deaths.
It was also a known fact that Roy Mustang hated water. He refused to take a bath that's water was more than a half foot of water deep. Needless to say, he showered at an early age: 2.
When Roy was put up for adoption, he was put in an orphanage north of Central. There were no bicycles to ride or anything really put in it for the children living there to enjoy. There were books, though. There was an entire library. The children at the orphanage wouldn't touch the books, though. Mostly, they would draw with rocks on the ground and jump rope with spare rope from the supply closet. Not Roy. From the age of three, Roy Mustang taught himself to read and would sneak into the orphanage's library that was off limits to everyone but the adults and take books into his room, hiding them under his mattress. By the age of eight, Roy Mustang could do simple alchemy.
When living in the orphanage, though, he could not practice this as often as he needed to. This kept him from getting very good, but as he grew, the adults began to watch him less and less, and this is where his story really began.
Sorry for the short chapter, but it's a prologue, so, yeah. As you know, I just started another new story, and I still have Sinister to work on. Rest your little horses, I'll manage all of it.
My computer will be back this week and so my story editing will jump.
Byebye, Cho