The Other Exams
By: Bar-Ohki
Disclaimer: I have never, will never ever own FMA in my lifetime.
Recap: Alchemists down: Mustang, Armstrong, Kimblee, Grand, Tucker, and Comanche. Alchemist(s) up: Marcoh and unknown.
Other Stuff: Originally this was going to be my last chapter. Which would have been sad. But fear not! I have another coming up and I won't tell you who it is! I would also like to take this space (since you are reading this rather than hearing it) to draw your attention to my other FMA fic titled A Pen or A Sword?; it's a completely different story. I hope y'all check it out. And all the love in the world to my reviewers! You're the entire reason I keep going! Now I'll get to the story:
Chapter 7: In the Name of Man
"John, where'd I put those notes!?" A middle age man called over his shoulder. He was clad in a white lab coat that covered a nice set of slacks and a green button up shirt. This man was a little on the heavy side, but he had a few kind wrinkles and a bright smile. His black hair was cut short and his blue eyes sparkled with excitement.(1)
"In the bottom drawer Tim!" John called from the other side of the room. Tim was a short, fat man with a goofy smile and a head of grey hair. He had dull green eyes but that didn't mean he had bad sight. He had better sight than most.
Tim bent down and quickly fetched the desired notes. Tim was an unmarried man, but he was content. His one love and passion in the world was Alchemy and he got to "make love to her" everyday. Tim was one of those fortunate people with complete job satisfaction. He got to enjoy his hobby and passion everyday.
"Thanks!" Tim called back, leafing through the notes. That was the other perk, alchemy was science. And with science, you can discover something new, get praise for it and be worshiped. To Tim Marcoh, science was an adventure and he got to play the role of hero.
Tim drew a few more lines on his circle. He paused to study his handy work. Alchemy wasn't a hard science in his opinion, but it was a dangerous one. To Tim that added thrill, but to others it was discouraging or forgotten. This danger was called a 'rebound'. Tim paused carefully, it was at times like these he liked to remember where he came from.
-break-
"Timothy Marcoh! I will be seeing you after class!" Mr. Skillings snapped irritably. He had a large, brown afro, and a ragged beard. Mr. Skillings also had a terrible sense of fashion, but that's another matter entirely. The class did the usual snickering at a peer's misfortune and the lecture resumed.
Tim sat at his desk, trying to ponder what he had done to deserve an after-class lecture. He was enrolled in a pristine academy, many argued it was the best school in the nation. Tim was very lucky to have gotten a scholarship. He took his studies very seriously, even though having come from a middle-class background, his parents lacked the funds to keep him enrolled should his scholarship fail.
At the end of chemistry, Tim approached Mr. Skillings.
"Sir, you wanted me?" Tim was quiet, yet nervous.
"Mr. Marcoh, have you heard of alchemy?" The old teacher asked him quietly.
"Yes sir, I have." Tim paused thoughtfully. "But I don't know anything about it really."
"It's a science that has a remarkable amount in common with chemistry. I think you'd be pretty good at it." Mr. Skillings seemed to have started another senseless ramble that he was known for. It took all of Tim's will to not tune the man out. "Of course this school has a lot to offer if one wishes to pursue alchemy. There are all varieties of courses and staff, not to mention resources. Many alchemists that graduate from here become State Alchemists if they try to take the test."
"Really sir, that seems most interesting." Tim said quickly to assure Mr. Skillings that he was actually listening.
"Anyways my boy, you should take a look at it." Tim nodded in response. There was an awkward pause.
"You're dismissed boy." Mr. Skillings added as an afterthought. Tim made himself scarce.
-break-
That had been the initial inspiration. After Tim had finished his schooling he began work as an alcho-healer. Though medical alchemy often walked very close to the line of sin, Tim pursued the path relentlessly, determined to help others. At the current moment he was working on creating arrays for aiding crystal growth. Tim had discovered that many different types of minerals had medical properties and being able to get them more readily available was key. So Tim began his new line of research on crystal growth, altering, and transforming arrays.
And now, after seven long years of research and development, Tim stood before an array that could completely manipulate crystals. With a small smile Tim looked to his partner John.
"All we need is a sample. Then we can begin the real experiment!" Tim giggled. This was new, no one had ever done this before, it was exciting.
"How's about this bit of Johannsenite?"(2) John held up a fist-sized lump of a what looked like a lump of greenish grey lard. Due to the telltale bits of crudely manipulated mass, one could tell the rock had been through a transmutation.
"Is that pure Johannsenite?" Tim checked, John nodded vigorously in response.
"What are we waiting for? Set it down!" John quickly obliged his partner and set the stone the middle. Tim placed his hands carefully on the chalk circle and took a breath.
"Test number one," John listed as he pulled out a sheet of paper for observations, "growth." With that the circle lit up, alchemic arcs flew across the circle and the stone, causing the smooth surface to become uneven and start to grow radically outward, making it spiky. After a few minutes Tim stopped that part of the transmutation.
John picked up the now spiky stone and examined it. He took its weight, density, and a few other basic tests, after a few minutes he set the stone back down.
"A 30 percent increase in mass. Not too shabby." John explained as he continued to record vigorously on his sheet of paper. "Test number two, altercation."
With a small grunt Tim made the circle come to life again. This time the spikes seemed to melt back onto the rock, leaving a smooth surface. John again picked up the stone, ran a few tests and examined it then set it back down.
"Mass was conserved, we have a success!" John grinned.
"Don't count your eggs before they hatch. We're far from done here." Tim reminded his partner.
"Oh right, well test number three," John paused dramatically, "transformation."
"What should I turn it into?" Tim asked carefully.
"Why not Rhodonite? It'll be less of a stretch that way."(3) John suggested. Tim grunted and let the circle light up a third time. The green-gray mass turned slowly more and more yellow, eventually becoming a translucent red-yellow stone. John snatched the stone up again. He ran a few more quick tests, after each test his smile grew.
"We did it?" Tim asked as his partner turned around holding up the stone.
"Yes!" John laughed. Tim stood up and hugged his co-worker.
-break-
The two scientists went and got themselves extremely drunk that night in celebration.
-break-
Tim was not inclined to answer the phone when it rang loudly at nine am that morning. He grunted, muttered something about the 'God damn idiots' and picked up.
"Dragonton Medical Office, Doctor Tim Marcoh speaking." He answered the phone professionally.
"Hey mister, is your refrigerator running?" A child's voice asked.
"Dammit Mitchell! I am going to castrate you the next time you come into my office!!" Tim bellowed, being more than a little upset with his hangover. This was not the first time he'd been prank called by Mitchell.
"Uh, whass 'cast-er-eight' mean?" The child asked innocently.
"It means I'm going to cut off your balls next time I see you." Tim growled. There was an 'eep!' and the line went dead.
"Damn brats!" Tim hung up. Just then the phone rang again.
"Mitchell don't make me kill you!!" Tim bellowed into the receiver.
"…Sorry…?" A very small, adult voice asked. "I don't know what I did sir, but I honestly didn't mean it!" It answered meekly.
"Oh, terribly sorry sir!" Tim said quickly, "I thought you were a neighbor's child prank calling me back."
"Oh, I thought you were actually mad at me." The voice explained. "My name is Mitchell Raven."
"Well, Mr. Raven, I am Doctor Tim Marcoh of the Dragonton Medical Office, how may I help you this morning?" Tim introduced himself.
"Oh good! You're exactly the person I was looking for! I'm also a Warrant Officer under the command of Brigadier General Antoine Fred. He's been very interested in your research sir." W.O. Raven explained efficiently. "He was wondering if you would consider a State License…."
Tim just about dropped the phone. "What!?"
"General Fred is willing to sponsor you for a State License, my good sir. Are you willing?" W.O. Raven explained again quickly.
"Oh! Wow! Oh!" Tim cried, stunned at the news. "I have to discuss this with my colleague. I need more time!"
"You can call back anytime. Just ask for 'Brigadier General A. Fred' and tell them that 'the Fuhrer hates pork buns' and they'll dial you right down to his office. I will request that you call during office hours." The Warrant Officer explained quickly.
"Yes, I will." Tim confirmed.
"Have a good day Doctor." The line went dead again. Staring at the phone Tim pondered his next course of action. He chuckled as he picked it up again.
"Time to call John…!" Tim hummed to himself as he dialed the number. After a few rings someone picked up.
"Hello?" It was the voice of an upset woman.
"Hello Gina, this is Tim Marcoh, is your husband there?" Tim asked, a little confused.
"He had a heart attack last night." The lady was quiet. "He didn't survive." She hung up.
All Tim could do was stare at the phone. He had never been so torn inside in his life.
-later-
"Hello, this is Doctor Tim Marcoh…. I need to speak to Brigadier General A. Fred. Oh! And the Fuhrer hates pork buns…. Yes I know that's a really weird thing…. Thank you ma'am." Tim held the phone nervously. There was a click.
"Brigadier General Antoine Fred speaking." Said a very male, strong voice on the other end.
"Hello General sir, this is Doctor Tim Marcoh. I heard you were willing to sponsor my state alchemy exam?" Tim asked carefully.
"Oh yes! Your expertise in medical alchemy and that crystal research is most fascinating! I think you've got a good chance of winning this year!" Gen. Fred explained happily. "I see a lot of potential in your work, I hope that with proper funding you'll do better."
"May I ask why you've taken such enthusiastic interest in me sir?" Tim wondered out loud.
"Oh! My life was saved by medical alchemy when I was 20. I've always been trying to support medical alchemy since…." Tim imagined that the General was blushing in embarrassment.
"I see sir. I'll do what I can." And with that Tim found himself packing his bags and heading out to Central.
-break-
Tim had been to Central before, though it had been a few long years. With what he thought was confidence, Tim proceeded to with the most efficiency, get himself lost. After a few minutes of pointless wandering, Tim sat down on a bench in Central Park.(4) A young boy with black hair cut to his ear lobe and yellow eyes came running over, crying. The child was holding something precious to his chest.
"Hey!" Tim called on impulse. Being a doctor made him compelled to help others. The child turned and faced him, his blue shorts and green shirt blowing in the wind. Tim gave the child a welcoming wave and put on his 'I'm-a-really-nice-guy' face. Carefully, the boy picked his way over, squinting at the ground all the way.
"What's the matter?" Tim asked the child warmly. The boy sniffed loudly.
"The meanies!-" he cried, "they broke my glasses!"
"Don't worry, I can fix them for you." Tim took out a handy piece of chalk and drew a simple transmutation circle on the ground. The boy crouched down and studied the circle curiously.
"This is called a transmutation circle. I'm going to use a little alchemy to fix your glasses, uh…." Tim realized he didn't know the child's name.
"Maes!" The boy's head popped up sporting a huge smile. "Maes Hughes is my name mister!"
"Well then Maes, I'm Tim Marcoh." Tim shook hands with the boy. "Please set your glasses in the middle so I can fix them." Maes quickly complied. Tim set his hands to the circle and took a small breath. Soon the circle lit up with beautiful yellow lights. The broken pieces of glass came to life and rejoined the other parts. Within moments the glasses were whole again.
Maes timidly picked up the now-mended glasses and put them on.
"Woah! These are clean!" He exclaimed. "The whole world is more colorful!"
Tim just smiled, knowing he had done a good job.
"Say mister Marcoh is there anything I can do to pay you back?" Maes asked.
"Well I'm a little lost…." Tim admitted with a sigh.
"Where are you going?" Maes was now bouncing up and down with excitement.
"The military base." Tim said quickly. "I'm going to become a State Alchemist."
"Wow!" Maes was awed. "I think you could actually do it mister! You're really good!" The boy spun around as if to get rid of excess energy. "I know the way too!" With that Maes took off.
Tim raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. Then, with a grunt, stood up and chased after the boy. About 15 minutes later Tim stood next to Maes in front of an enormous white building.
"Here you go!" Maes gestured to the large base. "I have to go home now. Good luck mister!" Maes waved energetically as he ran off. Tim waved back and picked up his bag, squared his shoulders and walked through the gate.
It did not take Tim long to sort through the process of finding the registration table. He made sort work of the paperwork involved in the process and was only mildly shocked when he heard the written exam began at six am the next morning. Luckily Tim had done a great deal of his review on the train. Though having had finished dealing with the bureaucracy, it dawned on Tim: he had nowhere to stay the night.
"Excuse me ma'am," Tim caught the attention of the lady behind the information counter, "I have a few quick questions."
The kind looking woman looked him in the eye. "And?"
"Well, you see, I'm taking the state exam tomorrow. And I need a place to stay the night, you follow right? Perhaps you could help me?" Tim found the woman attractive which made him trip over his own thoughts.
"Hmm…." The woman looked up at the ceiling, placing a finger thoughtfully on her chin.
"Excuse me sir?" A male voice asked from behind. Tim turned around and came face to face with a short, bulky man. He had a black comb over (which sadly did not cover all of his bald spot), and a bushy mustache. He had two larger men flanking him.
"Can I help you?" Tim asked, somewhat intimidated by the body guards.
"I'm looking for a 'Tim Marcoh', do you know anyone like that?" The mustached man had a playful twinkle in his eye.
"Yes! I'm Tim Marcoh sir!" Tim was a bit panicked as to why some important military official was looking for him.
"Oh!" The woman behind the counter stood up and saluted the man. "General Fred, sir!"
"At ease." Gen. Fred waved the woman down. "Good to see you in person! I came down here as soon as I'd heard from the register's office that you had signed up." The General shook Tim's hand enthusiastically.
"Thank you sir." Tim had calmed down now.
"So you need lodging for the evening, correct?" Tim could only nod. "Well look no further, I have arranged a hotel for you, complete with a cabbie service back to Headquarters in time for the exam tomorrow!"
"Thank you General." Tim bowed politely.
-break-
Tim walked out with ten other participants. According to the proctor, this year's turn out was abnormally small. To Tim this was good news, it meant his chances of becoming a State Alchemist were higher. What he didn't realize was that he'd be under extra scrutiny because of it. He and the other candidates made some idle conversation as they walked out of Headquarters.
"So Mr. Marcoh," one of the candidates asked Tim, "what are you going to do about your practical exam?" Tim paused thoughtfully.
"I'm going to present my life's work." Tim said after a while. "I have made a lot of breakthroughs and what not. And if they demand I demonstrate transmuting, I have a circle and ingredients prepared."
"But they provide you with ingredients!" One of the other people remarked.
"I just need a pure sample of any mineral, my sponsor will said he'd be able to arrange that specifically for me should I make it that far." Tim defended himself. The others nodded.
It was two days later that Tim had the pleasure of finding out that he had indeed passed the written exam. Gen. Fred told him he'd have his interview the very next day.
"They only conduct one interview per day, this way all the proctors have a fresh mind. They also change a few of the interviews to make sure that no one is playing favorites. Actually going first is a little helpful, because they haven't set any expectations of this year's crowd yet. I'm sure you'll do well." The General had babbled as he explained.
-the day of the interview-
Tim opened the doors of a very dark room. He saw the golden chair.
"Quite the precarious perch you've given me here." Tim remarked with a chuckle as he sat down.
"You're not afraid that it won't support you?" One of the men in the darkness asked.
"It looks to me like this is the interview room for the state exam." Tim began to explain with a smile. "And if you've held this exam every year since this country was born, I think I could assume that the chair provided would hold me. If it didn't, you'd be the ones looking like idiots."
"And yourself?" Questioned another voice, this one amused.
"Well I'd have a sore butt and be thoroughly humiliated, why?" At this everyone had a little laugh.
"You seem very personable, I like that." A new voice quietly chuckled.
"Thank you." Tim felt very comfortable.
"Please sir, state your name, age, and years of practice." The first voice asked.
"I am Doctor Tim Marcoh. I am 36 years old. And I have been studying alchemy for-" Tim paused and counted the years quickly, "-23 years now."
"You're a Doctor?" Another voice asked.
"I work at a small family practice in Dragonton." Tim smiled. "My alchemic specialty is medical." There were several approving mummers from the questioners.
"Why did you want to become a State Alchemist?" The second voice asked.
"I want to help others!" Tim stood up, becoming very emotional. "I've dedicated my life's work to increasing the knowledge of the medical field so that people can live longer, happier lives!" He sat down again, flushed.
"A good doctor, through and through." Someone muttered.
"General Fred explained to me that if I had better funding, I'd be able to get more done. I agree with him, which is why I am here." Tim smiled.
"Thank you for your time, Mr. Marcoh." A voice told him. Tim stood up, bowed, and walked proudly out the door.
"I like him. All in favor of passing him say 'aye'." The Fuhrer grinned.
"Aye!"
-break-
"What!?" Tim exclaimed.
"You heard me the first time, both of your competitors are retaking the exam. Third time for one and fourth for the other." Gen. Fred explained. "This is good news."
"Good news?" Tim was baffled.
"Well they obviously didn't pass for a reason. They happen to be old material, nothing 'different' if you will. The judges will already know what to expect. All you have to do to win is simply be new and different. And good, you've got to be good too." The General smiled, fingering his mustache. "No worries though, I'm confident you will do well. You did submit your research paper, correct?"
"Yes, I did." Tim nodded.
"Good." The General nodded.
-break-
Tim had been asked to come late to his practical, so late he came. The other two had gone and stood around looking like idiots, waiting for Tim to arrive. When Tim came there, he saw a table with a piece of chalk on it. In the center was a large sapphire.
"That's a pure sapphire boy." Some old crusty guy told Tim. "They want to see your new circle at work."
So Tim sat down and ran the same tests he'd been running about a month before. At the very end he turned the sapphire into a diamond. After the military inspectors declared it as diamond, General Fred approached Tim.
"Congratulations my dear friend," the General began, "you are now the Crystal Alchemist."
A stack of paper was set in Tim's left hand.
His silver watch in his right.
1- Correct me if I'm wrong, please!
2- I am a nerd, I did research on my summer break just for my readers. Johannsenite is an actual mineral. It is officially CaMnSi2O6 or calcium manganese silicate. If you want to find out more you can go to minerals dot net.
3- Again Rhodonite is an actual mineral. It is officially MnSiO3 and is called manganese silicate. It is actually a special form of Johannsenite (which is why John suggested using it). And again you can find out more information on minerals dot net.
4- This large, public park is about five blocks south of Headquarters. Central is famous not just across the nation for this park, but the world as a whole. This park has an amazing amount of beautiful flowers and fountains. It also has an extensive play structure for those that that concerns. And, as Tim knows all too well, several benches.
I decided that Maes Hughes grew up in the Central area. And that he had a ridiculous hair cut as a kid (but don't we all?). Of all the chapters I've written, this one comes first chronologically. And I'm claiming Marcoh's somewhere in his 50's-60's when you meet him in the series, so its perfectly reasonable for him to be 36 when he takes his exam. I also think this is the longest chapter yet…. a little dazzed still And I'm profusely sorry that this took so long to get up. Real life can be a real bitch at times…. Tell me what you think by clicking on that little blue review button!