This time on 'How Long Can You Procrastinate?', ZakuroU takes an eternity to update! *facedesk*

Sorry guys! I've been really busy working on my original project thingy (and i only have half a chapter more written for Red and Blue oops) so I got sidetracked.

But nonetheless, here is the thing! New (Poké)poll up too – sub won over dub on the last poll, but Vic Mignogna got four votes and everyone should be happy. XD

Edward swallowed nervously, his face pressed against the stinging cold stone. A sharp wind danced by almost mockingly, whipping the teen alchemist's blond bangs around his face and sending snowflakes painfully at his skin. His fingers, flesh and metal alike, were clenched tightly around the rock and the adrenaline was making his nose run again.

All around him, the delicate white snowflakes drifted calmly down as if they'd sided with the wind to make fun of his entire predicament.

He sniffed, closing his eyes and holding tighter to the rock face.

"WHOSE IDEA WAS THIS, DAMM-IIIIIIIT?!"

His shout echoed over the area, bouncing off the cliff he clung to and down to the snowy earth metres and metres below.

Roy, from where was grasping for a jutting ledge a few feet below, replied to the frustrated cry through a clenched jaw. "My thoughts exactly, Fullmetal. Only I'd refrain from screaming any offensive profanities pertaining to the creator event down there considering the one we have to blame for this whole shenanigan is likely Fuhrer Bradley."

Edward growled and ground his teeth, reaching for a new hand hold. The aim of the contest was to reach the top of the rock face and then abseil down again in the shortest possible time. The group with the shortest time claimed victory, which they again predicted as the Northerners.

Roy was not okay with the whole height component of the exercise and so kept obsessively checking the buckles and belts connecting him to a useless rope that seemed all too thin and liable to snap.

"Whatever the case, this is a dumb idea!" snapped back Edward. He didn't continue for a moment. "Well, I guess it isn't that dumb but I still don't like it!"

"Agreed," muttered Roy. Louder, he added, "You ought to slow down! Your time will be null and void unless we're both at the top!"

"Then you speed up!" came his response, and Roy glowered. The kid was constantly doing this.

"I swear Fullmetal, if I fall and die I'll know whose house I'll be haunting!"

"Three things." Edward halted and turned around so he was facing the colonel. "One, you wouldn't fall and die. In case you hadn't noticed, we're tethered to this giant-ass lump of rock."

"I wouldn't put my faith in that," mumbled Roy, flinching as Edward twanged his rope from above. The ropes connecting them to the cliff were mainly there to help them abseil down. Should they fall, the best they could do was grab on to the rope as tight as possible and hope their grippy gloves did the trick.

The best the ropes could offer was slowing their descent enough to barely avoid death if they slipped without warning. The foreigners were allowed safety harnesses for protection matters, but Amestrian soldiers – State Alchemists in particular – were expected to either save themselves should they slip up or just not fall to start with. To Roy, the whole thing was an accident waiting to happen. "And please put your hand back on that ledge before you give me a heart attack!"

Roy couldn't see Edward's face very well given the sun shining behind the boy's head, but he knew he was rolling his eyes as he proceeded to not grab the rock face with both hands.

"Number two, Al and I don't even have a house, so what the hell are you planning on haunting?" The teen alchemist spun and grabbed back onto the cliff, hoisting himself up another bit. He turned again. "Finally, ghosts are a scientific improbability. Near impossibility. I thought you were an alchemist? By the way, you use some fancy words when you're nervous."

Roy grumbled as a vein throbbed in his forehead. "It's become apparent that Fuery's superstition is a contagion," he replied sarcastically, pushing himself up to his protruding ledge and taking a quick breather. He looked up.

Edward, as predicted, was still shooting on ahead. The distance between himself and the man below was increasing as he hastily clambered towards the top. It was surprising that he was doing so well, given the disadvantage of metal limbs.

Roy frowned. He moved a lot slower than the boy, but it was only because he was picking handholds carefully and trying to keep his weight even as opposed to speeding straight up like his teammate.

"Tch." The man's eyes narrowed as Edward reached for another ledge. If he doesn't slow down at this height, he's going to fall. Hard.

Roy continued towards another ledge, moving steadily onwards. Just above his head, a twisted root jutted out of the cliff. A strand of white material fluttered in the wind like a long, twisting flag. Roy grabbed it, and a jolt of anger flared up.

"Edward!" he shouted up. "Is this your bandage?!"

The boy looked down. "It got snagged! What was I gonna do?!"

"I swear, this kid…" Roy growled to himself as he clenched a fist around the bandage. "Do you mean to tell me you're climbing around up there with an exposed wound, Fullmetal?! Where are your climbing gloves?!"

Edward, a good many metres up, sweated despite the cold. He swung his auto-mail off the cliff to turn. "I couldn't climb well with them on!"

Roy's heart leapt as Edward hung off the rock on one hand and one foot. "Get yourself back into a stable position this second, Fullmetal!" he shouted.

Edward snorted. "Relax, you old tight-ass! I'll be—"

Crack.

"—fine…?"

Edward gave a sharp yelp as his foothold gave out, smacking his hip into the cliff face and leaving him hanging by his left hand.

"Fullmetal!" Roy called out as Edward scrambled for a foothold he couldn't find. Dammit! What should I—

He snapped out a hand for his pocket.

Edward's thick boots scrabbled at the cliff surface below, but he couldn't find his foothold.

"Grab the rope!" he heard Roy shout over the roaring of blood in his ears.

"Can't!" he cried back. His wounded hand started to sting ferociously as he struggled to hold on to the tiny ledge. These ropes had no catches and his auto-mail had no grip, meaning that he'd just slip down the rope if he tried to hold on to it. His injured hand was also a bad bet as the friction of the rope would tear open the cut again. A firm grip on the rope was the only safety he'd had available, why hadn't he thought of this beforehand?!

"Dammit, Ed! I'm going to kill you!"

"The hundred metre fall might have that part covered!" screeched the teen as his voice cracked out of panic. The alchemists were meant to cover for any falls, but Edward didn't have much faith in Amory drawing out anything to help. He scrunched his eyes shut, trying to swing his auto-mail up to the ledge his other hand was slowly slipping off.

Shf.

Edward's eyes widened as his burning fingers slipped from their dangerously precarious hold. He heard his own gasp echo in his chest as he fell backwards, one arm cart-wheeling and the metal one grasping the rope.

The silence was striking as the realisation dawned on him before the rushing of wind in his ears filled his head.

Crack!

"Oof!" Edward's breath was knocked out of him as he hit something hard. He rolled a couple of times until he came to a stop, breathing quick and trembling.

"Geeeeez." A heavy sigh. "Send me into another panic attack, why don't you?"

Edward gave a creaky whimper and twitched his head sideways. "…?…"

He was lying in a curved protrusion sticking out of the cliff like a cupped hand. Zaps of energy flickered around his face a couple of times and the telltale marks of a messy transmutation patterned the stone he was lying on.

"I told you to slow down, idiot!" barked Roy, jumping into the curve and thrusting a hand forward to pull the boy up. "You know these ropes are only guides for the trip down; are you trying to get yourself killed?!"

Edward shook his head numbly, still too shocked to speak properly. He straightened his clothes as he was helped up, legs weak and wobbly.

"And we're falling behind despite your idiotic pace," grumbled the colonel, ruffling his black hair out of frustration. He removed his hand from his head and looked at Edward, heaving another sigh. "You alright, kid?"

The boy nodded. "Y-yeah. But how…?"

He noted the watch dangling from a silver chain attached to Roy's belt. As the neglected-looking ornament spun slowly, Edward saw the edge had been scratched up and the polish worn away. He glanced at the transmutation circle etched into the cliff behind Roy.

The man caught him staring and shoved the watch away. "Yes, I scratched my watch on the rock to draw the circle. I don't carry chalk."

Edward laughed nervously. "Whatever the case, I'm glad you did someth…"

Roy glared and the boy wilted.

"We're still being timed," the man said, tugging off a pair of thick grey gloves and handing them to Edward. "These have extra grip on them. If you'd grabbed some at the bottom like you were meant to, we wouldn't have this problem."

"Sorry," mumbled Edward as he fitted the large gloves over his hands.

"Sorry won't help anyone when you're dead," Roy muttered back. "Now get climbing."

So the pair began scaling the cliff once again, this time at the pace Roy set.

When they finally reached the top, the colonel was more or less clinging to the cliff like fur on a dog's back. Sweat beaded his forehead and after the stunt he'd just pulled, Edward could sympathise.

"So," he said shakily as they climbed the last metre. "Shall I add this to the list of things you don't like? The dark, water and heights?"

"Get it right, kid," growled Roy. "It's heights that don't like you."

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING AN ITTY-BITTY LITTLE MICRO MIDGET SO SMALL IT'D TAKE HIM A YEAR TO CLIMB TO THE TOP OF A DOORSTOP?!"

Down at the bottom of the cliff, Edward's enraged screaming reached Tyrell's ears and the young shaman relaxed a little. "They're fine," he said with a sigh.

"Too bad," grumbled Amory from behind him, earning him a startled purple glare.

Back on the cliff, Roy swallowed a groan as Edward looked back over his shoulder. "So what now?" the man asked begrudgingly. "We more or less fall the whole way back down there?"

"Just wait a moment," came Edward's hushed reply. "Take a look at this view!"

"To be honest," Roy cursed himself as his voice cracked, "I'd rather not."

He jumped a little bit as Edward laid a hand on his arm. "Relax, Roy. Even on the off chance you slip, I've got clapping transmutation. Neither of us would fall far."

Roy shook his head and groaned again. "I'm not looking."

Edward grinned. "Aw, you scaredy cat. C'mon, just a glance!"

Roy glanced at Edward with an expression that had finality written all over it. "A pretty view means nothing to me. Let's just get this over with."

"Alright, fine." Edward hoisted himself up the last part of the cliff and perched on the edge. He offered a hand and pulled Roy up with him.

The man fixed his attention on his harness, making sure the rope was secure. Edward handed him a glove for the way down and kept one for himself.

"Now I'm gonna have to do this one handed," complained Roy. "You're the wor—"

Edward cut him off by grabbing his head and tugging his gaze up.

"Shut up," he said. "Shut up and look at that."

The top of the cliff overlooked the area the group had used for the last activity, two forests on either side and a river in the distance. There was a grey smudge off to one side – North City – and beyond that, jagged peaks like the fangs of howling wolves. The expanse of the north was covered in a blanket of snow, so white and pure it was almost dazzling. The wind tugged at Roy's hair and he couldn't help but wonder where that breeze came from, where it was going…

"Is it worth it now?" asked Edward softly.

Roy shook his head. "No. All that for a crappy view of Briggs."

"You suck!" the Fullmetal Alchemist laughed with a mocking punch to the Flame's shoulder.

"Whoa, please don't." Roy's heart flip-flopped as he made the mistake of looking down. The ground blurred from its faraway post and the colonel shuffled backwards. "Ohhhh, no. No no no, no. This is a really bad idea."

Edward looked back at him, his face growing concerned. "Roy?"

"There are things that I do not do," said Roy, his face deathly pale. "Jumping to my death? That's one of them!"

"We've got ropes and magic gloves to slow us down now," reasoned Edward. "It'll be fine!"

Roy shook his head.

"Well, I guess you'll have to stay up here forever," said Edward. "Or at least until they send someone to pick you up and carry you down."

Roy twitched.

"So I'll just go ahead by myself then." Edward shrugged. "Tell them all you were too scared to do it."

He sat there smirking until Roy gave an angry growl and slid forward again. "Fine! Whatever! I'll do it!"

Another wave of nerves washed over the man as his legs dangled over empty air. "O-kay."

Edward gave a nervous flash of teeth. It wasn't like he was particularly willing to throw himself off the edge of a cliff and slide down a rope the whole way to the bottom, but he was young, and the foolish bravery that was a key trait of his age group proved to prevail even in someone so small in stature. "You ready?"

Roy gripped his rope and swallowed, swinging himself over the edge. He stood sideways against the cliff, staring intently at Edward. "No. Now let's go."

Edward laughed, grabbed his rope with both hands and jumped. "Race you!" he shouted as he disappeared.

Roy held his rope tighter. "You've already fallen once and you don't hesitate to throw yourself right off the top," he grumbled. "A man's got to be either an idiot or an imbecile to keep up with your bravado, Fullmetal."

And with that he took a deep breath and plunged, keeping his hand tight around the rope so he didn't go any faster than necessary.

He couldn't say the experience of bouncing backwards down a cliff was a pleasurable one, and he couldn't say he went any faster than the slowest pace Edward was likely to not give him crap about, but he could say that he didn't scream.

That was a win, at least.

As he thumped down into the thick snowdrift next to Edward, he heaved a sigh that was filled to the brim with sweet relief.

"I win!" The younger alchemist whooped and threw himself backwards into the snow, thrusting two fists into the air as he sank in deep. "That was awesome! If I didn't almost die halfway up, that would have been the coolest thing ever!"

Roy shifted his weight, yearning for the feel of the ground instead of thick, powdery snow and glared sideways. His thoughts went something along the lines of, That kid sure is lucky I'm shaking too hard to bludgeon him to death.

It didn't stop him from growling some incoherent indecencies and burying Edward alive in the snow.

Just as he'd finished completely submerging his teammate in frigid white powder, Tyrell came sprinting over ahead of the event staff.

"Ohhh my God, I thought you were going to die," he breathed, grasping for Roy's shoulder. He laughed deliriously and patted him.

"We're fine, kid," stated Roy. "And what are you doing?"

"I thought maybe you were like, a mirage or something, I just needed to check you're not dead," the young shaman breathed. "Oh wait no, mirages are in the desert… I think. Where's Ed?"

"Mmph!" At the sound of his name, the teen burst out of the snow with his hands in the air. "I'm here! Colonel Acrophobic buried me alive."

"I'm not scared of heights, I just have a deal more common sense than a frozen pinecone!"

"Sure, sure."

"Yeah," said Tyrell as the uniformed men walked up behind them. "A fear of heights is instinctively ingrained in most people. Whether or not you can disregard it or learn to love the adrenaline is something else."

"Hear that, you little needle-phobe?" hissed Roy. "That's right; I know all your secrets!"

Edward jumped. "How did you find out about that? I-I mean, what are you talking about?! I'm not scared of n—"

"Roy Mustang! Edward Elric!" The judges came up next to them, prompting the Fullmetal Alchemist to clamber out of his snowy grave to stand with his teammate.

"We're afraid that due to the unauthorised usage of alchemy throughout the duration of this event, your team has to be disqualified from this round," one of them said, a relatively young man with a face Edward instantaneously decided he didn't like.

"You're kidding!" the young alchemist burst out, flashing his hands in front of himself. "You can't—"

Roy cut him off with a wave. "On what grounds? For what reason was preventing serious or possibly fatal injury to a minor ruled as an unjustified move?"

The man looked flustered by this unanticipated confrontation and his colleague took the opportunity to step in.

"Any other team would have had to continue from having one member restart from the bottom of the cliff, making your transmutation grounds for disqualification by way of an unfair advantage."

"So you're saying that another team who, might I add, would not have to deal with the handicap of a teammate utilising auto-mail prosthetics, would not receive the assistance of an alchemist at the bottom of the cliff to prevent serious injury to the competitor?"

"Y-yes?" the first man confirmed hesitantly, looking pressured by Roy's sharp tongue. "Maybe?"

The other man broke in again. "Fundamentally. And the southern team also has a crip on one—"

"Said member of the southern team is also an accomplished alchemist, a skill at which the three of us have dedicated our lives to refining. The amount of time we put into tediously and methodically improving on our practised styles is well equivalent to the advantage we gain in this somewhat petty event," whipped out Roy, his voice calm but his eyes burning. "And do not, ever refer to those unfortunate enough to be saddled with the burden of auto-mail as 'crips'."

Edward, who had furiously recoiled from the word like someone had dripped acid on his skin, looked to Roy. His face had the expression of someone who had been hurt and offended but was now too surprised to care. He smiled, realising that it wasn't all that strange for Roy to get worked up. He was family, after all, and there sure wasn't anything that irked Edward quite as much as insults to his little brother.

"Sir, you make some valid points but I am afraid that this particular event had a previously designated restriction placed upon it that forbade the usage of alchemy as the advantage would be far too great."

Roy simply raised an eyebrow at this, challenging the man to try and argue himself back out of his hole.

However, it was the first man who continued, "If you were to shoot yourself up to the top of the cliff, for instance—"

"You'll have to forgive my interruptions, but I need to know…" Roy broke in, folding his arms. "What kind of people do you take us alchemists for?"

The judges with the dumb faces looked at each other for a moment, then back at Roy.

Tyrell was standing beside the group, shrinking backwards with a face that read 'I understand about seventeen percent of this conversation'.

"Do you think us more likely to cheat than the other teams simply because it's easier for us to do?" asked Roy, shrugging and closing his eyes. "What kind of fulfilment do you think we'd get out of that? Do you think us winning one event is worth the frowning we'd get from the other teams? I speak for both myself and Edward when I say we are alchemists who would rather be 'for the people' than for ourselves – if saving my young subordinate from harm should mean disqualification on grounds of negligence by those who read the rules to us, so be it."

He opened his eyes, standing confidently before the men with a hidden, annoyed look behind his solid expression.

"So please make us aware of restrictions beforehand, if it isn't too much trouble."

The first judge nodded and backed off, but his associate remained. "We will be sure to make an effort in showing clearly which events forbid alchemy, then," he said smoothly. "But for now, East City is disqualified."

"Un-fair!" whined Edward as he disappeared. "That ain't even close to it! This comp's rigged, I swear!"

"Agreed!" said Tyrell with an angry sniff as he huddled into himself for warmth. He shivered. "God, why is this place so freakin' cold?!"

Roy grunted and frowned intensely at the small pavilion the Fuhrer and his entourage were seated under. He'd bet his thick, fluffy coat General Yu was sitting under there with a few of his 'Roy Hater Club' companions, complaining about how unfair his close save was.

Well, he would bet his coat if he weren't so adverse to the biting cold.

Edward straightened from his aggressive, hunched position and remarked, "You got pretty argumentative for someone who was completely against this event at the start."

"Don't get me wrong," said Roy as the three cleared the way for the Meinhardts. "I still think this whole thing is an enormously pointless waste of time, but don't make the mistake of thinking I lack a competitive spirit. And I really don't like scaling cliffs and watching you almost break your neck for nothing."

Edward tilted his head, conceding. "Fair 'nough."

The Northern team had shot up the wall and back down again ages before the times other teams had made halfway by. Due to the fact no-one else had fallen, the disqualified East would have placed second-to-last anyway. The only team slower was Orato, who had climbed the whole way up and down on the account neither one of them had been game to jump down. Tyrell was in a state of near hysteria when he reached the ground once again and Edward decided firmly that jumping down would almost certainly have sent the boy into a catatonic fit.

The current event was almost as bad as its predecessor, and again it was not alchemist-friendly. The group Roy had given the title of the 'Roy Hater Club' had petitioned to rule out alchemy usage once again and this time it annoyed the colonel so much that he would almost have lodged a complaint with the Fuhrer on behalf of Edward, Amory and himself if it hadn't been announced only seconds before the event.

Judging from the look on Bradley's face, he wasn't aware of the 'no alchemy' rule that looked like it was going to be applied to every event from now on. Edward was still complaining about it.

"…and it's really not fair! I mean, the other teams all get to use whatever specific skills they have! It's like telling those mountain guard guys they can't use their special training or telling the giants from West City they have to become un-buff!" the teen prodigy was saying as he walked beside Roy through a snowy woodland area.

The colonel was almost tempted to walk ahead of him to keep an eye out for snowdrifts – if the boy fell in, his heavy supply pack might drag him down and get his short frame completely swallowed.

"'Cause our individual skill sets are half our strengths! It takes the edge off our team like an industrial strength nail file! I'm not saying we're totally useless without it – well, I ain't anyway, not sure about you—"

"Hey!"

"—but it does make things a hell of a lot less interesting! And fun!"

"I'll agree on all accounts apart from the useless one."

"And it's really all your fault anyway. It's just like Hawkeye says – you make enemies everywhere you go!"

"Occupational hazard!"

The two continued to bicker as they walked, if only to pass the time until they found what they were looking for – a campsite.

Roy suppressed a shudder at the thought. He hated camping, even though he'd only properly done it once. He assumed stake-outs and training days didn't count.

It didn't bother Edward in the slightest, being that he had spent many of his nights lying under an alchemically constructed tent with Alphonse in a field in the middle of a blank space on the map, halfway through journeying to some bizarre town on a whim after hearing a whispered and flimsy rumor about a red rock that may or may not be the sacred article they sought.

What bothered him more than anything was the biting cold that sucked the heat out of his body through his auto-mail. He was still wrapping it up like Steven Meinhardt had told him, but at times it seemed like a completely pointless effort against the force of the north.

He knew one other competitor would be feeling much the same, but Edward refused to associate himself with the young southerner. Amory's arm seemed to have changed slightly in appearance since they'd arrived north as well…

Flicking his mind back to the task at hand, Edward began to scan the forest for any spot that looked like it would make a good spot to set up camp.

"I don't see how they plan to judge this round," said Roy after their previous scuffle had fallen away for a while. "I'm starting to think they're kicking us out in the cold just for laughs."

"My teacher told me she spent a whole month in the mountains," replied Edward conversationally. "I don't know if it's true, but…to be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if it was."

"A month on Briggs, huh?" Roy's eyebrows rose. "She must be one tough woman."

Edward laughed, then shivered and looked over his shoulder. "If there's one thing she is, it's a tough woman. She made us spend a month on a deserted island too."

"A final assessment of what you learned…?"

"A qualification exam. She wouldn't even let us use alchemy."

Roy gulped. "How old were you again?"

Edward shrugged and turned his eyes downwards. "Probably not old enough… We were too young and stupid to appreciate one of the most important lessons she gave us."

Roy didn't need to ask to figure out what he meant.

A few more minutes of snow crunching underfoot saw them walk into a bare patch under the shade of a towering evergreen. The scent of pine was thick in the air.

"What about—"

"—this good?"

The eastern team stopped dead in their tracks as two men almost as big as the looming tree itself stopped right on the other side of the clearing.

"You weren't thinking of taking our spot, were you?" Ravis Ferguson enquired rather menacingly, his hulking body seeming to blot out the sun.

His father, equally as huge and easily twice Roy's height, stepped up beside him and cocked his head.

The colonel opened his mouth to assure the two western giants they could have the spot if they really wanted it (he didn't think it was all that great) but ended up cringing instead.

"Your spot? We got here just as soon as you did! What makes you think you get to have it?"

"Fullmetal—"

The West City team looked at each other and then back to the young alchemist that was yelling at them. Really? They were being threatened by this pipsqueak?

Harold Ferguson looked behind the fuming Edward at Roy, who shrugged awkwardly and tried to speak once again.

"Full—"

This time it was Ravis that cut him off. "Listen, short stuff—"

"Short stuff?!" hollered Edward. He started flailing his arms like he was trying to kill a fly whilst dancing at a night club. "Short stuff?! Is that what you take me for? What else ya wanna try? Midgey? Shrimpcake? A half-pint mini-me?! Don't call me small! You wanna go?! I'll take both of you right now!"

Ravis laughed and his father folded his arms. "If you really think you could, kid!" the younger said.

"Alright then, you sunnuva—Yowcha!"

The snow almost turned to steam underfoot as Roy marched off with Edward's ear in one hand and the other a clenched fist.

"Excuse me for a moment, Captain, Sergeant," he said in a voice smooth as polished ice.

When he was out of earshot of the pair, Roy flicked his arm forward and Edward stumbled. He straightened up, clutching a throbbing red ear with a bandaged hand.

"Hey! What's the big i—" He broke off abruptly as he saw the colonel's 'Edward, you are a dead man' face. His mind flickered back to Kambei, to the good, hard slap Roy had given him when he'd flown off the handle at Prince Claudio (though Edward thought the Prince deserved it for the amount of short jokes he'd dished out).

Edward stepped back under his superior's glare, flinching away with his eye on Roy's hand. He braced himself as the man's arm blurred towards him.

Swiff!

Edward stood still for a moment, then slowly opened his eyes. Roy's hand hovered over the top of his head, barely disturbing his tuft of spiked hair.

"Look at that." The man lifted Edward's arms as the boy blinked at the hand held a couple of inches above his hair. "Look at this body."

Roy moved back and spread his arms, gesturing at his teammate. "Look at you. Ed, there's no gentle way I can say it, you're little."

Edward flashed his teeth but said nothing as Roy pointed to the opposing westerners.

"They're huge. I know you pack more strength in you than a Xingese firecracker, but those two are nearly celebrities in the military because of their ability in physical combat. And the two of them against us? There's no telling who would win, but both sides would take a heavy beating. Especially me, being that I'm a defensive fighter."

"If this is about you not wanting to mess up your pretty-ass hair—"

"Edward Elric!" snapped Roy, jerking the boy back to silence. "You are not engaging in combat with the Fergusons over a crappy campsite!"

That shut the boy up, and he assigned himself the task of glaring darkly at Roy instead.

"You may well have taken a fight like this and walked it off in the past, but if you so much as start to clap that arm of yours into a blade, we will be dobbed in, off this event and disqualified before even you finish transmuting. Size disadvantage plus no alchemy equals a fight we don't want! Do you understand?"

"…"

"Do you understand?"

"Yes," the boy growled under his breath.

Fuming, the teenage alchemist stomped after Roy to confront the Fergusons. He twitched with rage as the man willingly surrendered the spot to the team who had obviously arrived ages after them.

And he didn't speak a word to Roy, not one single snark, the whole time the searched for their own site. Not one cheeky quip was offered as they pitched their tents in a shallow cave, not a lone jibe nor solitary sharp remark.

Not a 'useless' comment when Roy realised he would have to light the fire the old fashioned way.

Silence where a 'show-off' would have been appropriate when Roy struck up a flame with flint he'd hunted out on the rocks behind them.

And it was dead quiet deep into the icy night, after the colonel had muttered an obviously disinclined 'goodnight' and received no reply.

Except for the occasional sneeze or cough, of course.

And that was that! I hope you guys'll leave me a review or two! AND SOMEONE TELL ME I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE THIS HYPED ABOUT DURARARA!X2 GAAAAAAH

REVIEW RESPONSES (sorry I was too busy to PM anyone, so there are a few):

LordTicky: Well thanks! I'm happy you think so. And in regards to plant-bassed alchemy, who knows? Maybe because it is so obscure, the State isn't yet aware of it's potential...

Starry Roses: Yep, hot weather is a pain! And thank you for your kind review!

Yorokobi Asahi: Yep, but on the other hand, the other teams have advantages in their home ground as well. And here's the update!

xemidemon: Ed cut his hand on a splinter in the tree. Sorry I didn't specify, and thanks for the review! (I hope school isn't being too much of a bother.)

Dashita Tichou: I'm sorry to hear that! I got to a private school too, but it starts a day after my sister's primary school. Thanks for the compliment! :D

articwolfgirl347: Thank you! And yep, I live in Australia. It's been pretty mild here too, recently. :3

birdlover101: Thank you for the compliments! In response to how Ed knew some other competitors; the answer is that this is a semi-sequel to one of my previous stories, 'You're Not My Real Dad!'. If you're curious about what happened there, you can read that. :)

Guest: Thank you very much! Your review was awesome, I'm glad you enjoyed reading!

'TIL NEXT TIME GUYS! :D (I'll be at school by then... So apologies in advance if the update is late.) Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing! I've read them all, so just know I appreciate each word! (Even when we're just talking about the weather. X3)