[RP] Fullmetal Alchemist: Every Man's War

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[RP] Fullmetal Alchemist: Every Man's War

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Postby Lance of LoL » Tue Sep 16, 2014 7:53 pm

[center]Fullmetal Alchemist: Every Man's War[/center]

[center]Chapter 1: The War In Ishval[/center]

The trucks rattled along the unkempt roads towards town. The Sun blazed across the burning sands all around. A hot wind sweeping through the dusty streets as the convoy neared the barracks. Looking out through the billowing tarpaulin, Jenny could see the sun bleached buildings, all seemingly uninhabited, this particular town already purged of its native residents. Sighing heavily, she turned her gaze towards the inside of the truck. The State Alchemists for this sector had been loaded into one truck and, for security reasons, given no treatment to distinguish their entry into Ishval from ordinary soldiers. She could make out some notable faces amongst her peers, Gilles Secundus, the Vortex Alchemist being the most prominent, despite his advanced years, his expression held the intelligence and scholarly demeanour of a man who had dedicated his life to the pursuit of knowledge. Next to him sat Basil Fougasse, the youngest person to earn a State Certification at just seventeen years old. The others were mostly unrecognisable, their garb or features holding no hints to their identity for her, but one, a man with a metal right arm stood out. She didn't have to courage to confront the genius talents of Secundus or Fougasse, but after swallowing her fear, she piped up.

“You're Eric Ritter, the Azure Alchemist, right?” she asked brightly, hoping she wasn't disturbing him too much. “I'm Jenny Deerfield, the God Hand Alchemist.” she introduced herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, at the barracks, General Dwight Whippet sat at his desk. Sweat beading his brow as he held onto his desk with white knuckles. A young woman kneeling before him, her face impassive as she inspected him.

“You really shouldn't be playing with it so much, it's worn out as it is.” she groaned.

“I know, I know, but I've got a lot of duties to perform and I've got to relieve the pressure somehow.” he grimaced as she laid her hands on the shaft. Giving a sharp pull, he grunted as she manoeuvred him into a better position.

“I'm not going to lie, this isn't going to be pleasant for either of us, but by the time I'm done here, you'll be feeling much better.” she huffed. Keeping one hand on him, the other moved to the bag by her feet, reaching in to retrieve the right tool for this particular job. Moving her hand further toward the base, her digits glided over him, probing for the sweet spot.

“Alright General, here goes nothing.” Pressing the tool to the point, she waited for the sound of a click, the instrument having wrapped around its target, ready for action. With a solid pull, the tool twisted and the General's body went rigid.

“AAAAAHHHHH!” he bellowed, his body spasming uncontrollably for a moment before going limp. Just as the young woman moved away, a soldier rushed in the door.

“Oh, sorry General Sir, am I interrupting something Sir?” the soldier saluted dutifully, glancing rather awkwardly between the woman and the General. Dwight waved him off, a sigh of relief escaping him.

“Not at all Son, Viola here was just adjusting my automail, been sore for days.” he explained with a smile. Viola glared at him as she threw her tools back into the bag.

“Well maybe if you didn't keep running around like a twenty year old with a working leg you wouldn't have this problem.” she muttered.

“Now now, it's fine so long as I have a good engineer on hand, right?” he beamed at her.

“Look, that thing is barely hanging on as it is, I had to get a custom socket wrench just to adjust the nerve connections, and since you had me swap it out for that stupid peg leg, not only are you feeling less, if the shock absorber craps out all that pressure will go right to your knee. At this point, I'd just have the thing removed and get a normal prosthetic.” Viola lectured him with her normal zeal.

“Not a chance, I've had this leg set up for forty years, I'll be damned if I'm losin' it twice. Now then Private, what can I do for you?” the General turned his attention back to the soldier.

“Sir, the new contingent of soldiers and the deployment of State Alchemists have just passed the west checkpoint Sir. They're on their way in now, Sir.” the soldier saluted again and Dwight stroked his moustache pensively.

“Thank you for the update Private. Please, go get Major Gonquin, I'd like to see her about the orientation of our new forces.” Dwight ordered, but the Private stood hesitantly for a moment, his face flashing an expression of distaste before attempted to retain neutrality. “Problem Private?” Dwight asked, his eyebrow rising sharply.

“Sir, no Sir... It's just... Major Gonquin Sir... Our orders...” the private looked more than a little conflicted. The General nodded as he stood up, his leg hissing like a steam engine as he stepped around the desk to be in front of the man directly, his massive frame towering over the soldier.

“Private, do you know the Ishvalan's position on Alchemy?” he asked sternly.

“Sir, no Sir.” he answered automatically.

“Well Private, in Ishval, Alchemy is considered sacrilege against their god, Ishvala. Those that commit this taboo are exiled, no longer one of their people. Therefore Private, I put it to you like this. An Ishvalan does not preform Alchemy. So if Major Gonquin preforms Alchemy, what is she not, Private?”

“An Ishvalan?” the soldier answered, perplexed.

“Very good Private. Now that we've established this, go retrieve the Major. I'd like to debrief her before the new unit arrives.” the General smiled brightly, dismissing the soldier.

“That was heavy handed.” Viola observed stoically.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the same time, several miles to the South East of the barracks, an explosion sent a shockwave through the sand.

“Keep firing men! Do not let their monks pass the blockade. If they engage in hand-to-hand, we will lose this position!” The Amestrian Captain ordered. The crack of rifle fire, a deafening roar of mortars and land mines filled the air as the Ishvalans attempted to storm the outpost.

“Where are Flettner and Aeolus?! Tell them to take the field, or I'm shooting them for insubordination!” he bellowed as a bullet whizzed by, skimming his helmet.

“Sir, I'm not sure you're authorised to shoot a State Alchemist.” one of the troops answered, firing another volley in return.

“I don't care! They're the best chance we have of holding this position, get them out there!” the Captain screamed just as a grenade bounced off the sandbag in front of him and landed at his feet. Another explosion rocked the area as the war continued to rage.
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Postby Aggroxcraig » Tue Sep 16, 2014 11:24 pm

Eric sat in the truck as the heat started to make it very unbearable to relax even though the roof of the truck gave them shade. Thanks to his automail it felt like his shoulder was slowly getting a burn which became more and more annoying. Eric eyes went down towards the ground while thinking to himself why he was here of all places. Eventually Eric's thoughts focused on his goal. I have to find her. I have to kn-

“You're Eric Ritter, the Azure Alchemist, right?” Said a girl in the truck. Eric looked up and tried to recall her name before she introduced herself. “I'm Jenny Deerfield, the God Hand Alchemist.”

"Ah, yeah. It's nice to meet you." Eric uncomfortably rubs his left shoulder trying to relieve the slight burn. "So...you're the God Hand Alchemist, eh? Kind of an unusual title. Do you have a big ego or something?" Eric grinned. "You must be one hell of a fighter to give yourself that title."

"Um, actually, I didn't pick it, that's my assigned title from Fuhrer Bradley. I'm a medical Alchemist, so I think it's supposed to mean I'm like divine intervention or something, you know, God's hand?" Jenny answered nervously as she pointed towards one of her hands.

"Relax. I'm just kidding. I know the Fuhrer assigned you that title." Eric said smiling looking down at hands and then back at her face. Just by looking at her face Eric guessed that she had to be a little younger than him. I can't believe they have a girl like her out here. hell having that other girl...Basil? Yeah. That seems wrong. "Medical Alchemist...well you and me are probably going to be good friends then."

"Huh? Oh, um, sorry, I don't know anything about Automail, but I'm happy to look at any other wounds you get, okay?" she smiled reassuringly.

"Great, it's a date then." Eric said smiling and then after a small pause said, "Kidding."

"Oh, um, yeah..." she replied with a slight blush to her cheeks.

Eric started to laugh out loud as he felt all the others in the truck start to roll their eyes. Eric was known as taking nothing serious and a terrible solider. Some say it was a miracle that he even passed the State Alchemist exam. He did remember when getting that title the Azure Alchemist King Bradley said that he would be "Useful". "I like you Jenny. You seem like a nice girl." Eric said with a sincere smile. She doesn't belong here... Eric thought to himself.

"Th, thank you." she sputtered.

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Postby MAGI_01 » Wed Sep 17, 2014 3:31 pm

It was hot, almost unbearably so as the sun beamed down across the sands as the convoy rumbled down the road towards their final destination. What a miserable place this is... Wilhelm thought as he peered out of the truck. The entire area looked like a ghost town, no signs of residents anywhere. The war had gotten considerably worse as time went on, so the orders they were given made sense. It would very quickly bring an end to the war, but he was apprehensive about it. The fact they had been quite literally ordered to wipe out Ishval, was unsettling, but he had a duty to perform. He may have questioned it in his mind, but never out loud. As a state Alchemist that was part of their job, to obey the military, no questions asked.

“You're Eric Ritter, the Azure Alchemist, right? I'm Jenny Deerfield, the God Hand Alchemist.”

Wilhelm was snapped out of his thoughts and turned his attention inside the truck. As the two conversed, he just sat quietly in observation.

"I like you Jenny. You seem like a nice girl." Eric said with a sincere smile.

"Th, thank you." Deerfield sputtered.

Silence passed for a moment before Wilhelm decided to speak up.

“I’m Wilhelm Ackermann, The Flowing Life Alchemist. Sorry if I didn’t say anything back there, I didn’t want to be rude and interrupt.” He said sincerely.

"Oh, that's okay, I wasn't really expecting an answer or anything..." Jenny said calmly.

“I think someone would have answered you.” Wilhelm said. “Call me old fashioned, but I think it’s important to introduce yourself to a group of people with whom you will be working with, so even if no one else did, I still would have.” He smiled.

"Oh, well, that's... very polite of you. Wilhelm, right? You said your title was the Flowing Life Alchemist, are you a medical specialist too?"

"Fuhrer thinks of the weirdest titles.” Eric muttered.

Wilhelm chuckled at Eric. “No, I specialize in water based alchemy.” He paused turning to Eric. “So I guess the title sort of fits. The Fuhrer does come up with some weird titles at times though.”

"Yeah I suppose that makes sense then." Eric realized that he said water and then chuckled. "Do me a favor and make sure you don't get this wet." Eric said while showing off his auto mail. On top of the hand was an intricate transmutation circle over a silver plate. "I rather like this arm right now and I would hate to lose it."

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Wilhelm smiled. “Well, it’s nice to meet both of you.” He said sincerely.

"Right back at ya Will." Eric said.

“But, I like my title…” Jenny muttered quietly.
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Postby Doctor Memory » Wed Sep 17, 2014 9:03 pm

"Go to the ant, thou sluggard. Consider her ways and be wise."

On the outskirts of the captured town, Akasha Al Gonquin crouched before an anthill. She studied the tiny creatures as they went about their formic business.

"What kind of wisdom am I supposed to garner from ants? They're just mindless slaves to their queen. I doubt they even feel pain."

She snatched one of them between her fingers. She applied pressure to its thorax and watched it squirm.

"Do you writhe in agony or confusion?"

Applying more pressure, she crushed the ant, and noted the immediacy with which it aquired lifelessness. She dropped the corpse among its sisters, and watched them fight over the task of salvage.

"Is this mourning or greed?"

Turning her attention to the outliers, Akasha began poking and proding various ants, dipping a finger into the sand to block or nudge them in a new direction. After a seemingly random series of jabs, a pattern began to emerge. A few more pokes provided the finishing touches for a transmutation circle.

"Just wait for the right moment, aaaand..."

When her target wandered into the exact center of the circle, she initiated the transmutation. A single hapless ant became encased within a thin sphere of quartz. She picked this up and observed her scurrying prisoner.

"If you have no commander, then why are you so easy to manipulate? Or does lacking a commander mean you have no will? But if that's true, then how can your work be virtuous?"

The smooth crystal surface provided the ant no purchase, but it fruitlessly continued its attempts to escape the spherical prison.

"Clearly, you can't free yourself. Clearer still, you don't know your predicament. Can't you see that I've trapped you? Am I meant to see your lack of perception and enwisen myself?"

Have I been the ant all along?

Order 3066 went into effect not long ago. The trucks delivering her division's assignment of State Alchemists and further reinforcements would arrive today. As an Ishvalan serving in the State Military, she was supposed to be imprisoned. Many of her kin across Amestris had already been slapped in irons and carted off to Central, there to be held as traitors without trial. One of those trucks was intended for her.

Ishvala wants me to guard myself against the Seven Deadly Sins. The text suggests that the greatest of these is Sloth. But Poverty will not come for me in my sleep. The State has chased him away and instead invited Death to join his brother War here in Ishval. And Justice is nowhere to be seen. He's probably standing idle on the sidelines, mocking all of us. What is this madness?

"I suspect I'm as incapable of comprehending my predicament as you are of yours. For the moment, I'll assume the lesson you're trying to teach me is to never stop struggling."

When the word of Ishvala is contradictory or confusing, make up something better. Thus had Akasha lived her life until now. But she found herself questioning a more concrete authority. The State, unlike Ishvala, had the power to smite her in the here and now, and had openly declared its intention to do so. Questions would not be brooked, and yet her very soul begged for answers.

Bradley, my King, what are you thinking? Why end the war so bluntly? To what end does this serve?

"Major Gonquin! There you are... Sir!" The private ran up and snapped to attention, giving a brief salute almost as an afterthought.

Akasha rose from her place of ponderation, quickly slipping her crystal prison into a pocket. "Ah, Private Gurevich, what can I do for you?" she asked through a smile she didn't quite feel.

"The General wants to see you in his office, sir! About the reinforcements, sir!" he barked. The green was still thick on this one, shouting like he was still in boot. He arrived with the first wave of the troop surge and hadn't quite acclimated to the relaxed ways of the officer class yet. Akasha hoped he was at least getting along well with the other grunts.

"Alright, message received. And could you tell Lieutenant Togusa to ready my parcel for delivery?"

"Sir, yes sir!" he flipped another salute. It was almost endearing.

"Thank you. Carry on, Private." She waved as she watched him trot off.

She sighed and retrieved her crystal cage, the ant within scrambling to right itself after being jostled. She threw it at a nearby building, the crystal shattering against the masonry. The ant fell to the ground amidst the shards. After a moment of recovery, it continued on with its formic ways, imprisonment forgotten. She watched it crawl away.

"You're on your own now, buddy. Same as me."

She marched directly to the barracks.

Akasha entered Whippet's office swiftly, not bothering to mask the sullen look on her face. "Reporting as ordered, sir."

Whippet looked up from his paperwork. "Akasha, yes. It's about the new recruits, particularly the Alchemists." he answered heavily, putting down his pen.

Akasha approached the table. "I assumed this was about the, uh... sensitive situation regarding my ancestry."

"It is, and it's not. As it stands, through my position I've managed to allow you to maintain your post here. Unfortunately, even I can't stop a gang of Alchemists with the Fuhrer's seal from taking action against you if they feel like it. So I wanted to discuss our... strategy as it were."

"Understood. I can absolutely guarantee that I won't dissect any of them." A small smirk crept across Akasha's face despite herself.

Whippet's mustache bristled as he held back a snort. "While it's reassuring that you're not about to cripple our new assets, I think that until we're sure of their allegiances, you attempt to lay low. Wear glasses, dye your hair, something to take attention away from your background and keep it on your skills as an asset to the Amestrian Military."

Akasha took a moment to mentally construct. "...A disguise. Yes, sir. As it happens, I've been experimenting with polarized glassware. However, hair dye is something of a problem, given the lack of water. I can whip something up, but I'll need a double ration for the next day or two."

"For a State Alchemist, I'm sure we can make the allowance. Should things become a problem though... I can't say it's pleasant, but I have Flettner preparing an alternative as we speak." he continued grimly.

"I'm aware of that contingency. I prepared a collection of... 'parts' for just such a purpose." Akasha's face was downcast once more. The extraction was a gruesome task. And yet the thought of reassembly was irresistibly alluring. "Togusa has them right now."

"Good. Now then, about orientation. I think it goes without saying that until your disguise is ready, you stay out of sight of the new recruits. So, in the hopes that you'll forgive me, I'm confining you to quarters for the next twenty-four hours. At least, that's what I'm doing if anyone asks. This is the paperwork right here... God, I hate paperwork."

"Understood, sir. I will ensure that your bureaucratic efforts are not wasted by making absolutely certain that I am not seen when I inevitably sneak out tonight." Akasha added a stern salute for effect, her smirk returning.

"Excellent. Dismissed, Major." Whippet replied with a listless salute as he returned to his paperwork.

Akasha executed a quick march back to her quarters, fighting to keep her expression sullen, or at least neutral. Despite the need to keep up appearances, her mind was already back in her laboratory. There was work to be done. The good kind of work. Sciency work.
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Postby Agentomega » Sun Sep 28, 2014 10:57 am

Morgan stared out of the truck as it trundled along the sandy road. He'd covered his mouth and nose with a piece of fabric to keep the particulate matter out of his airways. Sure, it was still bloody hot and the air was dryer than his humor, but at least he hadn't been hacking up a lung like some of the novices. Certainly, he could have used his alchemy to take care of the matter, but this was just as effective and he had more important things to worry about than maintaining such a transmutation. Moreover, the particles had to go somewhere, and that meant he'd have to clean his face and neck eventually. He'd tried it a few times, but before refined the ability, it had appeared that sand was gushing from his nose. The tale would have spread, had he not given the rest of his former squad a look that promised far worse in return. Of course, that had been years ago, and he'd since "changed" command several times. Not to say he was a bad solder or Alchemist. Far from it. His talents were just required elsewhere.

He hadn't spoken a word to the rest of the Alchemists, and was only just barely paying any attention to their conversation. He hadn't a need to listen to introductions; he'd read all their files already. The corners of his mouth twitched upward slightly as he recalled the day he'd given the registrar an order from the Furher himself granting him unrestricted access. It was a formality of course. He had "access" to the records anyway, but the brass had finally decided it would be better to at least have a paper trail for the documents he looked at. Not that he couldn't do something for that as well, but he decided to play along. At any rate, the bewildered look on the woman's face was priceless. She was rather cute, and extremely fun to rile up. His grin became positively feral when he thought about his return.

He promptly wiped the smirk off his face and the girl from his mind. He could think about pleasure later. He set about organizing what information he knew, recalling things about the geography and possible personas he could assume. Prior to the outbreak, he'd been ordered to the province and report back after a week with the current state of affairs. He'd grumbled about it at the time, but now understood the hidden value. He could mimic two of the regional accents and could easily pass as a civilian. He'd confirmed this on the second to last day of his trip, entering a prison as an Amestrian and leaving as a disgruntled Ishvalan who'd just served his sentence for stealing rations. His newfound "brothers" had been sympathetic. Infiltrating the resistance, however, could possibly prove a trickier deal. Naturally, this is what he lived for.

He did glance over at the Azure Alchemist when he mentioned that his automail shouldn't get wet. Morgan wasn't certain as to whether or not that was because it simply wasn't intended to get wet, or if that caused undesirable effects with the other's Alchemy, but he filed that information away for later. Sure, water was scarce in the desert, but in the event he had to disable the man, he was sure he could procure some. Whenever Morgan was sent on an official mission, the purpose was more often than not twofold: infiltrate enemy ranks, and root out spies in our own. It wouldn't surprise him if he had to turn on someone within this very vehicle. Of course, since there was nothing to that effect in his deployment orders, he probably wouldn't have to. That said, if you were to keep your friends close, and enemies closer, it stood to reason that the people you kept even closer were those that you weren't sure were friend or foe. He turned his attention back to the scenery...
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Postby BPES » Mon Sep 29, 2014 4:02 pm

Gunshots rang out and the ground shook with the various explosions erupting in the near distance, but for Vail, this was normal. It had been for quite some time, but now, it was changing. The Big guns were coming to the war, and with the latest order, Order 3066, the death toll would probably grow to even greater heights. Of course that in itself was a topic Vail wasn’t too keen on thinking about too deeply.

“Corporal! We need you out on the front lines immediately! The monks-!” A soldier yelled heading Vail’s way.

“You got it! I’ll go do my thing!” Vail cut the soldier off not really needing to hear the rest of his statement. Taking off at a light run Vail made his way towards the established line, having been checking ammunition before. From what he could figure, it was the Captain’s way of making him feel useful until he was actually needed, having long since proved himself an equal in close combat to any Ishvalan Monk out there.

Approaching the defensive line Vail could see more figures charging the position, slowly making progress though many fell to the cracks of the rifles and the blasts of the Mortars. Vail came to a halt by the captain who gave him an expectant glare.

“Right side, go and make sure they don’t get through.” He ordered and Vail nodded rushing towards his designated position, moving past a man in a gas mask. Vail let his smile drop for a second but pressed on regardless. It wasn’t his place to question State Alchemists; especially not now they were war assets.

Running forward, Vail leapt over the small barricade the riflemen were covered behind, startling them in the process as he charged out to meet the enemy. Now, nothing else mattered, it was simply about defeating the enemy.

The mortars in his area had stopped, likely to aid other areas with additional bombardments, and the riflemen held their fire waiting for a clear shot. Essentially, it was all on him now and Vail grinned, no fight quite like a fair fight.

“BRING! IT! ON!” Vail roared as he met the first of the monks in combat swatting the native’s dagger with his arm, the automail screeching on the impact and threw his own blow which the Ishvalan dodged deftly. The two exchanged several strikes before vail struck home, breaking through the Ishvalan’s dagger during a strike and connecting with his opponent’s face. Blood flecked from the man’s noses and mouth as his eyes rolled back, the force of the blow knocking him back across the sand.

Another charged staff in hand. An odd choice inn Vail’s mind, as the enemy Monks tended to favour more of the ceremonial blades, bloody as this conflict was. The monk’s method became apparent when he skidded and dragged the staff across the sand flicking up an Amestrian Landmine from underneath it. Vail’s eyes widened in shock as the bomb clicked and raised an arm in defence.

Soldiers looked on as the blast went off, smoke clouding their vision.The next thing anyone saw was the Staff wielding monk getting hit with a metal fist and falling, only to be greeted by a knee to the throat as Vail followed his attack with a vengeance.

As the man crumpled before him, Vail stopped to try and regain his focus, his right arm having been all but destroyed but having protected the rest of him from the bulk of the blast. Even so Vail could feel pain lacing his bod and could even visibly see some shrapnel in his shoulder and abdomen. Oh he was gonna need a medic after this.

Before the ringing in his ears could even begin to subside, Vail was tackled to the ground by another Monk, his remaining arm raised by instinct being the only thing preventing a knife from finishing the job the explosive failed to. Lashing out desperately with his legs, Vail kicked the man back before several cracks filled the air and blood spattered from multiple bullet wounds opening up on Vail’s would be killer.

“Corporal! Are you all right?” One of the riflemen called out and Vail raised a thumb up sign in response, barely able to make out the soldiers words.

“I’ve still got one good arm! I can keep going!” Vail boasted.

Vail knew one thing at this point. If this battle didn’t kill him, then Viola would as soon as she saw the state of his automail.
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Postby Lance of LoL » Thu Oct 02, 2014 6:00 pm

Smoke billowed across the sand as a soldier helped Vail to his feet, the rest of their group firing volleys into the oncoming Ishvalan line. Beginning to retreat, Vail pulled away from the soldier, moving to dive back into the battle only for a firm hand to grip his shoulder. Turning to look behind him, the man in the gas mask stood silently staring at him.

“Thank you Corporal, you've provided me all the raw materials. Please, stand back and allow me to earn my keep.” there was a smile in his muffled voice as he stepped in front of Vail.

Several feet behind the barricade, a dusty tarpaulin with a transmutation circle sat pinned in the ground. Set upon it were several large chunks of building debris and a closed matchbox. Despite Vail's protests, he was pulled back with some effort on the soldiers' part while Simon Flettner, the Black Death Alchemist walked forward. Bullets flew back and forth, but the Alchemist continued unperturbed. Inspecting the bodies of the monks Vail had felled, he stopped at the one filled with bullet holes. With some effort, he lifted the corpse onto his back and started back towards his circle. The Ishvalans, recognising the threat of the State Alchemist, fired several times, only to shoot the corpse some more and to clip the insignia on his shoulder.

“They should be aiming for my legs, how thoughtless.” he mused as he lurched over the sandbag wall. Tossing the corpse into the circle, he knelt down next to it. One of the riflemen looked at the corpse on the pile and stuttered.

“S, Sir, excuse me sir, but, that's a body.” he managed to get out. Simon turned to stare at him now.

“It is.” he answered matter-of-factly.

“But, but Sir, isn't human transmutation illegal?” the soldier persisted and Simon turned his attention back to the circle.

“Only if one intends to revive the dead or create life, for these are considered encroaching on God's domain. This poor fellow, is just spare meat.” he answered bluntly and pressed his hands to the circle, the tell-tale flash of alchemy lighting up the Amestrian blockade.

From behind the barricade, a massive stag beetle about the size of a cow, its pincers gnashing wildly, scuttled into view. The Ishvalans fired upon it, their bullets glancing off its stone grey exoskeleton as it charged at them. Several began to run before the beast even reached them, but most held their ground, including one unfortunate soul who was tackled by the monster. Wrapping its pincers around him, he let out a blood curdling scream as the creature tightened its grip on him. In desperation, he fired into its shell several times, the stone carapace chipping in places, but suffering no real harm before the razor pincers snapped shut, meeting each other once more whilst the Ishvalan encountered a sudden separation. The Amestrians watched at the beetle chimera continued to harass their attackers, support from their infantry proving enough to drive back the current assault.

“Trial One, Stone Beetle experiment seems to be a resounding success, however assembly process could use some improvement in speed.” Simon rattled off as the captain approached.

“Good work men, those blasted sand monkeys won't think of attacking again for at least several hours.” he bristled with pride. “Aeolus, get to a medic immediately and then ship back to barracks, you'll be of no use in your state.” he said almost eagerly. “As for you Major Flettner, while I'm aware of our discrepancy in rank, I feel the need to ask, will that thing be able to hold up for long?” Simon stared into space a moment before replying.

“Unless they return with explosives, it would take concentrated rifle fire to a single point even to really harm it, so it shouldn't be a problem, it's life span will likely be the deciding factor.” Turning to look towards the giant beetle, they watched as the monster took a step and in an instant erupted in an explosion of fire and organs.

“Then again, I forgot about our land mines.” Simon observed casually as a piece of god knows what splattered to the ground next to him. “You've got a little on you.” he pointed out helpfully to the captain, who stood petrified at the entrails covering him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The trucks trundled up to the barracks, each branching off into a space along the far wall of the encampment. In front of the main building, a makeshift platform had been set up with a podium with a microphone set up on it. The new compliment of soldiers and alchemists disembarked, many stretching from the long journey before the booming voice of the General drew their attention.

“Atten-SHUN!” he bellowed, causing many of the troops to rush into formation in front of the platform. The scramble was amusing to watch, but the overall results was a bit of a mess, the soldiers standing in a sort of slanted formation while the Alchemists with no military experience stood to the side looking perplexed. The General shook his head in disappointment.

“Terrible, just terrible.” he muttered loudly. “Alright, let's try this again. New recruits, find your point man and line up from your left. Alchemists, line up behind me please.” he continued, prompting the appropriate response from his troops. The Alchemists walked slowly up onto the platform and stood in a line behind the General.

“Once more then, company, at ease.” There was a collective clack of boots on ground as the soldiers moved as one. Much better. “You men and women represent the Amestrian Military in these trying times. Now I understand that some of you are only too eager to go to war, while others have their reservations about what we have been ordered to do. All I can tell you is this, we are soldiers. Our duty is to uphold our orders to the best of our ability, but we are also human, and what you take away from this war, no matter what it is, you will have to deal with in your own way. With that said, you won't be alone in this endeavour. Behind me is the first wave of State Alchemists tasked with bringing a swift and decisive end to the conflict here. With any luck, you lot will be out of here within the year.” There was a cheer of approval from the crowd, but the General raised his hand for silence, cutting off the celebration. “However, as with anything involving war, I cannot stress enough the situation we're in. Chances are, there are people standing behind me now that won't be going home from this, never mind you ordinary soldiers. So don't believe that just because we have human weapons on our side that you are invincible. Our targets have drawn this war out for seven long years and they're not liable to give it up just because of a handful of alchemists. So I expect every last one of you to give it your all. The alchemists may be our secret weapon, but you are the heart and soul of this army. Without you, we'd of crumbled years ago. Now then, after a long journey, I imagine it's about time for lunch. Dismissed.” Whippet said with a smile and the company disbanded.

Turning to the alchemists, his expression became grave as he inspected them. Casting his eye over Jenny, she felt the pit drop out of her stomach as the gravity of the situation weighed heavily on her.

“Okay folks, now that the propaganda is out of the way, I think it's time we got down to business, what can you people do and what can I expect of you in the field?” he demanded sternly. The barracks gate opened in the distance behind him as another truck rolled in. Parking up alongside the others, all was peaceful for a moment before an Amestrian soldier rocketed out of the back of the vehicle. Jenny tensed on the spot, but the General merely sighed. Climbing down from the truck, a soldier with one metal arm, his body covered in bandages followed the flying soldier into the yard.

“I told you, I'm fine, let me go back!” he demanded, picking up the wounded trooper. The soldier sputtered as he was lifted clear off his feet.

“I, I told you Corporal, you're too wounded! You've got shrapnel in you and you got a head wound just trying to jump out of the truck back!” he pleaded with the Corporal. “Now please, I'm not that tall!” he screeched and the Corporal looked at the ground, apparently just realising his metal arm was supporting the man's full weight.

“Oh.” he said simply before putting the man down. The General huffed heavily.

“Alright, any medical specialists?” he asked and Jenny raised her hand meekly. He nodded at her.

“That man is Corporal Aeolus, get used to treating him.” he grunted, jabbing his head in the Corporal's direction.
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Postby Aggroxcraig » Fri Oct 10, 2014 9:01 pm

Eric stood behind the General as he heard his his rather Inspiring speech in front of the soldiers. When he spoke about how the State Alchemists were "human weapons" he made Eric grin his teeth slightly. He didn't like the idea about behind a weapon, but it made sense. Looking at his automail arm Eric knew that it was true. Blowing things up and causing any sort of damage was really his specialty as much as he liked to deny it himself. Caught of guard, the general turned around and looked at each of the State Alchemists. When Eric met eyes with the General his eyes narrowed.

“Okay folks, now that the propaganda is out of the way, I think it's time we got down to business, what can you people do and what can I expect of you in the field?” Before anyone could speak, a truck road into the barracks with an Amestrian solider with a metal arm jumping out who looked injured head to toe.

“I told you, I'm fine, let me go back!” The soldier demanded while picking up the wounded trooper. The soldier sputtered as he was lifted clear off his feet.

“I, I told you Corporal, you're too wounded! You've got shrapnel in you and you got a head wound just trying to jump out of the truck back!” he pleaded with the Corporal. “Now please, I'm not that tall!” the man yelled. The Corporal looked at the ground and realized his metal arm was holding the soldier up in the air without any issues. Geez..I don't even think I could do that Eric thought to himself.

“Oh.” he said simply before putting the man down. The General huffed heavily.

“Alright, any medical specialists?” he asked and Jenny raised her hand meekly. He nodded at her.

“That man is Corporal Aeolus, get used to treating him.” he grunted, jabbing his head in the Corporal's direction.

There was a moment of silence between the General and the State Alchemists, but Eric took a step forward and purposely gave a half-ass salute. "Eric Ritter the Azure Alchemist reporting for whatever the hell you need me to do."

The Generals's face started to turn into stone but didn't show anyway to determine if he was upset or not. "The word is Duty Son. It's four letters and I reckon people who make a point of doin' science for a livin' shouldn't have a problem spellin' it. Havin' said that, what is it you do exactly, Azure Alchemist?"

Eric rolled his eyes during the General's small lecture. Lifting up Eric's automail, her grinned. "My expertise is in electricity. You need me to jump start a car, I'm your man. Need a bolt of lighting to to hit a couple of enemies, you got it. I also make a mean chili."

The General's eyes narrowed giving Eric a cold stare. "I'm not the most strict General in this Army, but I get the distinct impression you an' I are not gonna get along Ritter." he glanced towards the man's automail. "If you happen to be lackin' in factory parts, report to our local mechanic, girl by the name of Viola. Just follow the trail of sour heads and you'll find her."

Eric smiled wryly at the General."Thanks for the information General...?"

"Whippet. Now get goin' soldier, you're gonna want that sand proofed before long." The General turned away from Eric and looked to hear from another State Alchemist.

"Perfect. I'll go do that right now General Whip." Eric said while waving goodbye as he stepped away from the others and made his way to where the mechanic was. As soon as Eric arrived to where the mechanic was he walked up and cleared his throat to get their attention.. "Hello?..." Eric said as he saw a girl that was around his own age working behind a bench.

Without looking up from her desk, The girl continued working on an automail arm. "Whoever it is, either state your business or go away, I'm busy here."

Eric lifted up his automail arm and smiled saying. "Viola right? Well I'm about to give you more business. I'm here because General Whip said for me to get my auto mail sand proof."

Taking one brief look up and shooting a thoroughly unsatisfied glare his way she returns to her previous task. The girl was actually pretty looking, but had smudges on her cheek. Her hair was out of her face thanks to a bandana covered with oil and grease. "Sit down, shut up and I'll get to you in a moment. Like I don't have ENOUGH to do in this god forsaken wasteland."

Friendly one. Eric thought. "Well aren't we in a good mood today." Eric sat down in a nearby chair and began to tap his foot on the ground as boredom starts to seep in. He let out a sigh and looked at Viola while she worked on her desk. Eric let out a sigh and didn't notice Viola eyebrow starting to twitch as he started to make a rhythmic beat with his auto mail. "So, how long is is going to take before get to see your new favorite patient?"

Sending yet another glare towards Eric. "I don't have favorites, and if I were to pick favorites it'd either be the highest ranked man on base, or the idiot I've spent the past several years trying to keep in one piece." Finishing with what she was doing, and setting down her tools, she stood and walked towards him. "Now then... Name, Rank, Role and save me some time, give me a run down of what you already have."

"Straight to business, eh?" Eric gave a mischievous grin. "The name is Eric Ritter and I'm an automail addict. I'm ranked as a major, but don't expect me to act like one. I like blackberry pies and a nice cup of tea in the morning. Also I'm the famous Azure Alchemist. Surely you've heard about me?." There was a pause between the two. "As far as my auto mail...now don't let this 'shock' you...." Eric started to laugh and then noticed Viola's eye twitch. "...hehe it's a joke because my specialty is in electricity. Anyway, this is a new-ish auto mail arm as the last one I had sorta of blew up. So if you can make it sand proof and help make it NOT blow up that would be great."

Viola closed her eyes and then then repressed the unnecessary information Eric provided. Without even blinking Viola inspected the arm. "Very well major, I'll see what I can do. Hmm, Sit down, stop talking and I'll see about swapping the plating out for now, When I have time I'll reconstruct a full arm so you'll have to make do with a patch job for a day, two tops."

"Beautiful! How long will this patch job take? Do you need me to take off my arm or should I keep it on so we can get to know each other better? Also can you do me a solid and keep this piece the way it is?" Eric said pointing out a silver plate on top of his auto mail hand. On the plate was a detailed transmutation circle. "It helps with conducting electricity so I can do my thing."

"I would be happy to just take the arm, but you might get sand in the housing system so no, you'll have to stay and it shouldn't take more than an hour at most, depending on how quiet you are... or conscious." Viola said as she returned back to her work desk. "As soon as I get this work done I'll work on your arm."

"Sound good!" Eric said as soon as Viola sat down and began working on her previous work. "Do you have anything to read while I wait? Or maybe a radio so we can listen to something?"

Viola's right eye twitched.

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Postby MAGI_01 » Tue Oct 14, 2014 2:01 am

Wilhelm stood behind the General as he made his speech to the gathered soldiers. As he started to speak about State Alchemists being “human weapons”, Wilhelm got a grim feeling in the pit of his stomach. He did not like the idea of being used as a weapon. In his eyes he was a scientist not a solider and alchemy was tool, not a weapon, but the burden of a State Alchemist was to follow the orders of the Military. As the General finished his speech he turned to them and gave them a looking over.

“Okay folks, now that the propaganda is out of the way, I think it's time we got down to business, what can you people do and what can I expect of you in the field?” Suddenly, a truck barreled through the gate.

“I told you, I'm fine, let me go back!” An Amestrian solder yelled in protest.

“I, I told you Corporal, you're too wounded! You've got shrapnel in you and you got a head wound just trying to jump out of the truck back!”

“Now please, I'm not that tall!” He continued in protest. It was then that Wilhelm noticed the man was holding himself up with just his automail arm. Wow, impressive Wilhelm thought.

“Alright, any medical specialists?” The General asked and Jenny raised her hand meekly. He nodded at her.

“That man is Corporal Aeolus, get used to treating him.” he grunted, jabbing his head in the Corporal's direction.

There was a moment of silence before Eric took a step forward.

"Eric Ritter the Azure Alchemist reporting for whatever the hell you need me to do." He said with a half assed salute.

The General didn’t look all too pleased with Eric’s introduction. "The word is Duty Son. Its four letters and I reckon people who make a point of doin' science for a livin' shouldn't have a problem spellin' it. Havin' said that, what is it you do exactly, Azure Alchemist?"
As Eric continued to introduce himself, Wilhelm’s thoughts turned inward. I wonder what our first assignment will be… He pondered.

"Thanks for the information General...?" Eric asked.

"Whippet. Now get goin' soldier, you're gonna want that sand proofed before long."

"Perfect. I'll go do that right now General Whip." Eric said while waving goodbye.

General Whippet stood quietly, waiting for the next person to step forward. With no one seemingly in a hurry to introduce themselves next, he took a breath and stepped forward, snapping into a salute.

“Wilhelm Ackermann, The Flowing Life Alchemist reporting sir!”

The general sucked in a deep breath before letting it go slowly and turned to face him.

"Flowing Life Alchemist eh? That'd make you the water specialist." the general pointed out.

“You’re exactly right sir.” Wilhelm said while still holding the salute.

The general rolled his eyes."At ease Ackermann." he ordered with a sigh. "Now then, if you haven't noticed, we're fighting in a desert. Not only is water scarce, it's worth more than gold out here, so if you're the research type, I'll tell you now, your allowance for water will be directly proportional to how much you can get us.

“Understood sir.” Wilhelm said as he relaxed. “I have just the technique that will hopefully allow me to be able to keep up with demand.” He said with a smile.

"Excellent, I'll see about sorting you with a scout rotation tomorrow." The general nodded appreciatively, clearly liking Wilhelm's first impression more than Eric's. "For now, we've got an Alchemist on staff already, goes by Gonquin. She's under house arrest right now, but her research requires a large volume of water in the near future, so in the interest of the war, you can go discuss it with her if you like." The General said, nodding towards a hut off to the side of the main barracks.

“Will do so immediately sir.” Wilhelm said before heading to meet Gonquin.

The general shook his head as the alchemist left.

"Human weapons my arse." he muttered under his breath.

~~~

Approaching the hut, Wilhelm noticed two soldiers standing guard right outside the door.

"Halt, who goes there!" shouted Private Gurevich, waving a bayonet in Wilhelm's face. The other guard buried his face in an open palm.

“Major Wilhelm Ackermann The Flowing Life Alchemist.” He started. “General Whippet sent me to discuss a few matters with Gonquin.” He gave the Private a puzzled look. “Certainly that won’t be a problem?”

"Uh..." Gurevich deflated suddenly. The other guard quickly snatched Gurevich's rifle. "No sir, that won't be a problem at all."

"What's all this brujahah?" came a voice from beyond the door.

"Sorry to disturb you, ma'am. Major Ackermann is here to see you."

"The Flowing Life Alchemist. Yes, I heard. I'm Major Gonquin, the Strangelove Alchemist. How can I help you, Major Ackermann?"

“Nice to meet you Major Gonquin.” Wilhelm started. “General Whippet sent me to discuss your research, something about it taking quite a large amount of water. I may be able to help with that.” He said.

Akasha paused. "How so?"

“I specialize in water based alchemy.” He paused. “I have a technique that allows me to condense water vapor in the surrounding air and collect for any use, be it drinking, bathing, experiments… the list goes on.”

"You can condense water from thin air? YOU MUST SHOW ME NOW!" The door hand began to jiggle. The nameless guard grabbed the handle and held the door. "Ma'am! May I remind you are under house arrest?" Akasha ceased her attempt to force the door. "Shazbhat! You're right. Um... I would like to see a demonstration though... Some other time..."

“Oh of course, I’d be more than happy to show you a demonstration once you are no longer under house arrest.” Wilhelm smiled, even though Akasha could not see it.

"Ah, excellent!" Akasha continued, "Anyway, I need roughly two gallons of water for my current project. It's a chemical concoction of utmost strategic value. Very hush-hush, can't say more. I'm sure Private Gurevich can assist you in locating a container for the water. He's ever so handy at fetching things."
"...and nothing else..." mumbled the other guard.

“Ok, I’ll get right on that.” Wilhelm said as he flashed a look at Private Gurevich.

"Sir, yes sir!" shouted Gurevich with an unnecessary salute. "I will escort Major Ackermann to the quartermaster, sir!" "And while you're out, could you fetch Lieutenant Togusa? I require his assistance." Akasha added. "Sir, yes sir!" barked Gurevich again. "This way, please. Sir!" And he began to march off toward the supply depot, still saluting.

Wilhelm let out a quiet laugh before following the Private.
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Postby Doctor Memory » Sun Oct 19, 2014 9:01 am

When Togusa arrived, Akasha was halfway through donning her plate armour.

Togusa [URL=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n9beJvGSVYs]entered the lab area[/URL] with a confused look on his face. "Major? I thought we were going to do, uh... that thing with the stuff. What's with the armor?"

Akasha was presently occupied with the straps of her left pauldron. "Change of plan. The new Alchemists are already here. One of them claims to be able to summon water from the air! Gaseous Alchemy! I simply must see him in action!" She paused to briefly gesticulate her excitement.

Togusa raised an eyebrow. "You're not going to invite him in here, are you?"

"No, of course not! I'm going out there. I was going to sneak out anyway to collect plant specimens. I might even be able to finish faster now." She nodded at her workbench as if its contents could miraculously explain themselves.

"But the General confined you to quarters... specifically to allow you to hide you face from everyone."

"I am hiding my face. You haven't seen me wear the full-face visor yet, have you?" She grabbed the close helm off the armor stand and held the visor down in front of her face.

"Ah. But everyone knows this is your armor. Given enough time, even Miggs could figure out it's you in there."

"That's where you come in." Akasha continued to ramble while securing her right pauldron. "Since I'm confined to quarters, you'll be supervising field trials for my latest design. You'll oversee, uh... Corporal Gomez. No, wait. Make that Sergeant Gomez. An Alchemist's lackey should have some experience." Togusa scoffed. "Let's see..." Akasha dug around the clutter of her lab for a few moments before scooping up a clipboard. "Here! This is the checklist I used last time. Pretend to fill that out as you go."

"I see. So you don't actually have a new design."

"Correct. But nobody needs to know that. Fortunately, my current design hasn't been submitted to Central yet, so we can pretend I just finished it."

"Hm... So, about Gomez..."

"I'll be playing him, obviously."

"No, I mean... What if there's already a Gomez among our reinforcements? If we're going to invent someone, let's use a name people are already familiar with. Um... Like that doodle guy on your chalkboard! What's his name? Batel?"

"Oh! Mister Batou! So I should play Sergeant Batou? That could be fun... Here, help me with the back plate."

Togusa spent a few moments securing the shoulder straps. "So, what do you need these plant specimens for? Is this part of our project?"

"Ah, that's right! Turns out Flettner was working on that already. Dwight wants me to put together a disguise instead."

"Seems prudent enough. Shall I dispose of the parts, then?"

"Not yet. Flettner may still need them. Genius though he is, I doubt he has an eye for aesthetic detail."

"This coming from the woman who regularly mutilates livestock." Togusa smirked.

"You're a doctor, aren't you? I would think you'd know the difference between between surgery and slaughter."

"I do. And it's ironic that you would make such a comparison. Your technique definitely resembles the latter."

"Hey, I'm a fully qualified field medic! And even though Flettner could perfectly hybridize a sheep, a cow, a horse and a goat, he'd still need my help to get the milk to taste right."

Togusa rolled his eyes. "...Setting that aside for the moment, I'm surprised your efforts aren't more coordinated."

"I'm flying by the seat of my pants here. I admit Sergeant Gomez was a bad idea."

"That's not what I meant. I think you should have consulted with the General straight away."

"What could he have done? I don't trust Flettner. Honestly, I don't know who to trust anymore."

"You can't trust the General, but you can trust me?"

"I trust Dwight implicitly. He's the reason I'm still here. He, at least, recognizes my value as a soldier and an Alchemist."

"There's more to you than just that. You care about this war in a way most soldiers don't. You care about the people in it. Hell, I lost count of the number of times I received patients instead of corpses because of you."

"Of course. Ishvala teaches that all life is precious, not to be taken for granted. Alchemy does not explicitly define a value for human life; yet most Amestrians, Alchemist or otherwise, assign it a high value. Given these factors, its only natural for one to preserve as many lives as possible, despite the implied goal of war being to kill as many opponents as possible. I suppose, over time, I've helped to save a considerable amount of lives and thus accrued an equal amount of good will from yourself and others in this army. At least enough to earn the few medals that I have. Supposing also that there's a surplus of good will, does this mean that you're helping me because of Equivalent Exchange?"

Togusa had [URL=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kN50ENE_HUU]that face people get[/URL] whenever Akasha decides to wax philosophical. "Uh... No? ...Well, okay, maybe. In that weird, sciency way that you think, you're probably right. Whatever. I'm helping you because you're the Major and you asked me to. If you'd feel better drawing up a mathematical formula that somehow allows you to quantify our trust in you, be my guest."

"In any case, It's nice to know there's still some trust to go around. This new operation... Order 3066... There's an implicit assumption that not a single Ishvalan can be trusted to maintin discipline and order. It smacks of cowardice."

"Cowardice, how?" Togusa looked alarmed. "Wait, did you just call the Fuhrer a coward?"

"It's unthinkable, right? Anyone who's met the man knows he's not a coward. So why is he doing this?" From here, Akasha began to pace about the room, gesticulating vehemently. "Why make an example of an entire race of people? There are much more elegant ways of putting down this rebellion. I've suggested a few. Dwight has suggested a few." she corrected herself. "The Fuhrer knows that the Clerics are getting help from Aerugo. I was the one who confirmed it! There's plenty of arrogant religious fanatics over there! Why can't we step on them for a while?!"

Togusa gave up any further attempts at armour fastening. "...I think you may have lost your objectivity here."

"What am I supposed to think? It's my head on the chopping block! I've been working my ass off for seven years to get my people to see reason. I swore an oath! Does all that mean nothing now?"

"I'm sure this isn't the first time--"

Knock-knock-knock. Akasha froze. "Major Ackermann has returned with the water, ma'am." said the nameless guard.

Shazbhat! "Just a moment, Major Ackermann. We need to get this reaction stabilized. Togusa, hurry up."

"I'm trying, ma'am!" protested Togusa as he fumbled with the bevor. His efforts were hampered by Akasha's seemingly random movements through her lab as she collected several more items.

"Uh, is everything alright?" Wilhelm asked through the door.

"Yes..." Akasha knocked over a flask. "Well, sort of..."

"Damn it, Major, hold still!"

Akasha fought back a wave of panic; belatedly realizing how thin the walls, or at least the door, realy were. "The situation is a bit volatile, but I think we have it under control!"

"Are you sure? I can lend a hand if you need it." Wilhelm offered again.

"Uh..." I shouldn't have wasted all that time ranting! Did he figure out my secret? "Wait, no! There's some very sensitive items in here. We can't--"

Togusa gave up on the bevor. "Would you stop flailing around? For all I know some of this stuff might actually explode!"

Panic gave way to frustrated anger. "Oh, FINE." Akasha held stock still with her arms crossed and her lips in a textbook-perfect pout.

Togusa quickly finished with the remaining clasps. "There. That's as secure as I can get everything at the moment."

"Right." Get ahold of yourself! "I'll handle the rest. Do us a favor and fetch the water." Okay. I'll just stick to the plan. If he knows, he knows. Not much he can do to me while I'm wearing this, anyway. "While you're you at it, why don't you arrange a demonstration of Major Ackermann's water alchemy during the field test? You could even throw in a tour of the base, if he needs. I'm sure Batou can tell me all about it later." Yes! And if he tries anything, I'll be ready with a Sambo Combo!

"I'm not sure all of that is necessary..." Togusa began to protest.

Akasha looked straight into Togusa's eyes, not realizing she was still showing her 'war face'. "Would you kindly."

"Yes, ma'am!" With surprising alacrity, Togusa [URL=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J1UQaEbi8Ek]fled the hut[/URL]. Akasha had just enough time to slap on the helmet and assume a nonchalant pose before Wilhelm was given a brief view of her through the door. "Uh... Sorry about the wait. I'm Lieutenant Togusa, Medical Corps."

"Well met, Lieutenant. I'm Major Ackermann, The Flowing life Alchemist." He extended his hand, offering a handshake. "And don't worry about the wait."

Togusa returned the handshake. "Ah, thank your for your understanding. It's good to see not all State Alchemists are... so harsh."

"I take you have had some bad experiences in the past?" Wilhelm asked.

"The recent past. Things have been very chaotic lately." Togusa thrust a thumb over his shoulder at the door, behind which Akasha was digging around for a pen. "Case in point."

"Well, I can assure you we are all not so harsh." Wilhelm chuckled at Akasha's Cacophony of Clutter (in G Major). "What is it that she is doing that is generating so much noise? Must be quite the experiment she is performing."

"I'm not really sure... The General has her working on something right now. She hasn't even told me about it yet."

"Where's that water!" Akasha shouted.

"Oh, shit! Uh, you were bringing some water, apparently?" Togusa asked, looking quite worried.

"Oh, right!" Wilhelm said as he handed over a nine-litre jerrycan. "Two gallons, as requested."

"Ah, thank you." Togusa opened the hut door after taking the jerrycan. Akasha was holding the clipboard and a recently excavated pen. "Uh... Sergeant?" Without a word, Akasha dropped the clipboard, rushed to the door, snatched the container, and slammed the door closed in Togusa's face. Togusa sighed, then faced Wilhelm once more. "Anyway, the Major... er, that is, Major Gonquin wants me to run a field test on her armor. She was wondering if you'd like a tour of the base, since we're going to be running all over today."

"That would be great." Wilhelm said happily. "I was just going to try to figure things out on my own, but a tour would be very nice."

"Ah, good. She also wanted to know if you would do her the favor of demonstrating your water alchemy abilities to Sergeant Batou..."

"Uwaah~! It's so PURE!" screeched Akasha from within.

"...for some reason." finished Togusa, eye twitching subtly.

"I would be more than happy to demonstrate them." Wilhelm said with a chuckle.

"Thank you so much. You've just made my day a lot easier."

"Togusa!" Akasha shouted with her helmet off. "Before you go, I need you to deliver something."

"Spoke too soon. I'll be right back." Togusa stepped inside the hut, closing the door behind him.

Akasha was [URL=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mW-gM0plfJo]positioned behind a bookshelf[/URL], a precaution taken to prevent Wilhelm from seeing her face. "Togusa, this is the Cannon Report." She handed him the clipboard, to which she had attached a hand-written note and the pen. "Highly classified. You must deliver this into the General's hands before dark, today. Is that understood?"

Togusa glanced at the note, which was a hastily written summary of the 'Sergeant Batou' ruse. He buried it under the checklists. "Understood, ma'am."

"Alright, then. You and Batou have fun! That's an order!" She replaced her helmet and made an "after you" gesture.

"Yes, ma'am." Togusa stepped outside with Akasha in tow. "Uh... Major Ackermann, allow me to introduce Sergeant Batou. He doesn't talk much, I'm guessing." True to form, Akasha snapped a quick salute and said nothing.

Wilhelm returned the Salute. "Nice to meet you, Sergeant."

I gotta look MEAN! Akasha returned a husky grunt in the affirmative, but otherwise remained silent. ...oh, wait. Shazbhat! Why did I bother practicing my war face?! I am screwing up EVERYTHING today!

She growls like a rabid animal... Togusa flipped through the papers on his clipboard in an attempt to hide his awe. "Well, shall we begin the tour? I'd like to start with some lunch, actually..."

"By all means." Wilhelm started. "Lunch would be great, I'm actually starting to get kind of hungry myself."

"Alright. This way to the mess." Togusa led the majors away.

A few moments passed...

"Are we guarding an empty house now?" asked Private Gurevich.

"No." replied the other guard.

"Should I have not asked that question?"

"YES!"
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Postby Agentomega » Sun Nov 30, 2014 9:13 pm

The lack of motion roused Morgan from his contemplative focus. He hopped out of the back of the truck with little more than a grunt. He was the first out; the result of an old lesson he'd taken to heart and had swiftly become habit.

Y'see little mouse, ya gotta stay as close to the exit as possible, in the event y'gotta get away fast. If ya can't do that, know where all the exits are, an' assume yer gonna be forced ta use the least fav'rable. But ya didn' do that, didja? So yanno what happens to little mice that get caught? Ironically, it was that man's failure to follow his own advice that saw his death at Morgan's hands years later. Looks like it's mouse eat mouse, you bastard.

Morgan let his eyes rove about the surroundings. A veritable sea of uniforms lazily flowed from their current location toward the centre of the clearing. Above the swell of soldiers, he could make out the architecture of a former temple. What it was currently being used for, he wasn't aware. He leisurely ambled in the direction of the others.

"ATTEN-SHUN!"

His sedate pace was entirely unaffected by the General's amplified interjection, and he calmly strode toward the edge of the platform. The rest of the battalion erupted into a frenzy, each individual attempting to maintain some semblance of order. As a collective however, that sentiment evidently failed as the mayhem was quelled by another command from the brass.

"Alright, let's try this again. New recruits, find your point man and line up from your left. Alchemists, line up behind me please."

Morgan complied, and once in his final position allowed his seemingly nonchalant gaze to sweep across the contingent as the General carried on with his speech. Nothing in particular leapt out at him, so he turned his attention back to the General, studying every feature as the man spoke. Whippet seemed like a no-nonsense sort. This is gonna be fun.

"Okay folks, now that the propaganda is out of the way, I think it's time we got down to business. What can you people do, and what can I expect of you in the field?"

Any attempt at response was interrupted as a streak of blue careened from the back of a transport that had recently pulled up. A fellow with automail lowered himself over the edge after the human projectile.

"I told you, I'm fine. Let me go back," the metal-armed man shouted, picking up his apparent victim. The other man hastily tried to appease him as he was lifted off his feet.

"I- I told you Corporal, you're too wounded," the man stuttered. "You've got shrapnel in you, and you got a head wound just trying to jump out of the truck back! Now please, I'm not that tall," he shrieked.

The General just sighed, and turned back to the Alchemists. "Alright, any medical specialists?"

The girl next to Morgan - Jenny, if memory serves - hesitantly raised her hand. The General jerked his head toward the other mechanorg. "That man is Corporal Aeolus. Get used to treating him."

Jenny Deerfield: Timid, probably the type to play by the rules. Seems easy to fluster. No apparent use in direct combat or diversionary tactics.

Corporal [given name currently unknown] Aeolus: Hot headed, enthusiastic about battle. Delayed response to rational statements when incensed. Likely easy to rile up, possibly use to incite commotion.


The Azure alchemist introduced himself next.

Eric Ritter: Something of a joker. Doesn't appear to take much seriously. Will require further observation on the battleground.

Viola [surname currently unknown]: Mechanic, personality apparently displeases all she interacts with.

Wilhelm Ackermann: Very agreeable. A go-getter. Test for gullibility, and pending results either break him of it, or exploit as necessary.


As the Flowing Life alchemist stepped off the stage, only Jenny and Morgan remained. Wanting to do anything but stand around all day, Morgan took the initiative and stepped forward.

"Morgan Bittner, the Bending Light Alchemist. Recon, infiltration and Spec Ops," he rattled off dispassionately.

"So you're the spy, eh? What exactly is it you do," the General asked, a note of scepticism creeping into his voice.

Morgan considered a moment, and then the corners of his mouth pulled into a slight grin. "I can produce illusions, turn invisible, and even..." He concentrated, and the sparks from an alchemic reaction obscured Whippet's gaze. When the spots had cleared from his eyes, the General was met with his mirror image. "... assume other identities," the lookalike finished.

Whippet blinked. "Huh. Well, very good," he said hesitantly. "Just... don't cause any trouble for our side with that ability and we'll get along fine."

Another flash, and Morgan's visage resumed itself. "Mm, sure. So, what do you want me to do around here?"

"Right now... I've no idea. I'm a little out of my depth with spying," the General replied candidly.

"Alright. Guess I'll go get a lay of the land then. I'll be around if you need me." Morgan snapped off a crisp salute, then sauntered away.

I'm surprised he didn't have a more overt reaction. He seemed more cowed than rankled, though I suppose Whippet may have been somewhat guarded. It wasn't the first time Morgan had used that trick on another person. In fact, he found it a useful litmus test for a target's disposition.

As he wandered about the base, taking mental notes of the layout and mapping an assortment of routes to various locations, he noticed a rather peculiar sight. Ahead of him was Wilhelm, walking with an... automaton? No, he amended, A person wearing armour made from the stuff intended for tanks. This should be interesting.

"Hey you two," he called gruffly. "Mind if I join you?"
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Postby BPES » Tue Dec 16, 2014 4:12 pm

Vail sighed as he sat on a bed in the medical building waiting on receiving treatment for his wounds. How many times had he been here during the course of this war? Far too many times to count Vail figured, but there was probably a record of it somewhere. Someone somewhere had the miserable job of tracking this sort of thing, some names appearing only once and others some more. That person could probably sign Vail’s name better than he could, not that it would be that hard anymore, as Vail had a rather problematic relationship with pens, pencils, and other similar objects. One of the main problems with this war was the loss of his arms, the repeated loss more prominently. No matter how well made the Automail, Vail always found himself breaking them, and then having to get use to a new version with different specs trying to fix previous failings.

It wasn’t Viola’s fault; she always gave her all to her work, crafting prosthetics that would serve people their entire lives just fine. Vail attributed it more to his own style of combat, which could be summarised as simple destruction. Of course, now they had something far more destructive than his fists had ever been, Alchemists. Vail was somewhat torn by their arrival, as it was a sign of change in the conflict, a way to end it much sooner and with far more brutality expected. Vail had been fighting since the start, seen many friends and comrades disappear and killed so many in return. Should he be thankful for a swift end, or angry that they hadn’t arrived sooner? Should he be opposed to the carnage to come, or cheer it on and let blaze the flames of vengeance in his heart.

“Ah who am I kidding? If I wanted to get payback, I’d go get it myself. No point letting someone else do it after all.” He thought aloud holding up the one functional arm above him, and sighing. Viola was going to give him so much grief over this later, of that he was certain. And no doubt the General was going to have words for him again, something along the lines of ‘reckless’ or ‘overdoing it’. Letting out another loud sigh Vail let a smile rest on his face, glad to have people he can rely on.

Of course, there were those he didn’t WANT to rely on, like that masked alchemist Flettner. He was just plain unsettling, not exactly someone Vail liked to see in action, more so when he had to leave it to the man. Those monsters he made were just plain wrong in Vail’s opinion, but then might trumps right more often than not, especially in war. Then there was Major Gonquin with whom Vail had spoken less than three words to, though more if you considered confused utterances to be words. After the brief and yet all too long first conversation he had shared with the Major, he’d avoided her ever since.

The sound of light footsteps approaching caught Vail’s attention and he closed his eyes ready to get on with the typical routine he was now used to.

“Ok Doc, let’s get me patched up. I need to go get my ear bitten off next door.” Vail said, his voice laced with humour.

“Uh, that, what?” A young voice responded catching Vail off guard. Sitting up he looked at the young girl in front of him and blinked confused.

“Oh! Uh, hi there… um. You’re a new face… what did everyone else get tired of treating me? Hahaha…ahhh that’s not as funny when said aloud.” Vail spoke a tad awkwardly not sure what to make of this girl. She seemed a bit young to be here, though Vail was rather young when he first arrived.

“Um, well, I’m Jenny. I’m a medical Alchemist. If you could just lie down we can see about getting you cleaned up.” She spoke, looked around nervously. Vail however focused more on the title she’d spoken.

“An Alchemist? Man you guys are really showing up in force huh?” Vail said lying back as was requested of him before a masked face crossed his mind. “you’re ah, not gonna turn me into some freaky bug thing are you? Cause if so, I’ll pass.”

“Ehehe, no, that’s not only far from my speciality, I’m pretty sure it’s very illegal.” She spoke still with that unsure edge as she began pulling out jars and stacking them, an empty one at the top. Vail eyed them curiously but didn’t bother asking, he’d likely not get it anyway. “My speciality is healing alchemy, I help your cells heal wounds and illness thousands of times faster than they would normally.”

“… That sounds simple enough, I guess… all right then, anything to get up and about again. I’ve got places to be, people to get yelled at by. You know the normal.” Vail said with a smirk, trying to alleviate her nervousness somewhat.

“I really hope that isn’t normal… Now then, I’m just going to have to…” She paused gulping as she eyed a piece of foreign metal making itself at home in Vail’s torso. “Remove, that bit of metal…”

“Fair enough, go for it.” Vail said confidently, seeing her hands shake. “Don’t worry, I’m used to this kind of thing. Seven years of war’ll do that.”

“… Um, right.” She said, having frozen at his words causing Vail to blink. Did he say something wrong? Slowly, she grabs the metal and takes a few breathes before swiftly pulling it free leaving Vail to wince.

“Rggh… ahh there ya go. See? Painless.” Vail commented plastering on a smile despite the pain. One Jenny didn’t share. “Don’t look so grim, it’ll be bad for morale if even the new faces look so glum, right?”

“Yeah sure.” She said nodding silently while working with her jars, light flashing through them until the top, previously empty jar is filled with a pale green liquid. “Apply pressure to that.” She instructed, pouring the green liquid onto a square bandage and pressing it on the wound. “There, the edges are adhesive, just don’t do anything to aggravate the wound and keep your hand on it, and you’ll be fine by tonight.”

“Tonight? Guess I’m stuck here for a while then… oh well, guess that means Viola’ll have to come see me for a change.” Vail said with a chuckle before thinking over his words, his face showing some dread on it now. “She’s gonna be ever madder, heh. Oh well, Thanks. Corporal Vail Aeolus, thanks for treating me Major..?”

“Jenny Deerfield, but Jenny will do just fine.” She said with a meek smile. Vail nodded, so Jenny’s last name was Deerfield? Good to know.

“Deerfield, but if you insist, Jenny it is. Just uh, don’t mind if I call you major every now and then, regulations and what not. Now then we’d better hurry up, you’re gonna be a bit busier soon enough… though hopefully nothing as serious as this” Vail commented gesturing to himself with his wrecked Automail stub. Jenny winced again; maybe that wasn’t a good idea.

“Honestly, I think I’ll leave Shrapnel removal to someone else form now on.” She said nervously and Vail laughed. Jenny was a far cry from the other Alchemists he’d met so far, far less confident to be sure. He had to wonder what the others would be like.
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Postby Lance of LoL » Mon Dec 29, 2014 1:41 am

Life on the base continued as normal after the arrival of the Alchemists. More trucks continued to move in and out, more wounded, and several already dead appearing in the infirmary. Jenny's breathing was rapid and uncomfortable. She had already removed her coat and undone to button on her collar, but no matter what, she still felt the atmosphere cloying at her. She knew it wasn't the weather in these parts that was making her feel this way, but the situation. While she had already been a doctor for some time in her home town, it was rare that she ever had to deal with something so gruesome as the injuries accrued from war. Occasionally someone got mangled by farming equipment, or a fall from a horse caused someone to die suddenly, but that sort of thing happened once a year maybe, and certainly not together; but now, there were at least a dozen beds that had been filled in the last hour, and when not possible to avoid it, Jenny had been forced to perform the difficult task of signing some death certificates on the spot.

Forcing herself to take deep, slow breaths, she tried to calm down as another stretcher arrived. Stacking more jars, she tapped the top, and the flare of alchemy rose through them like a roman candle. Walking over to the downed soldier, she assessed his injury. He had shrapnel in his body, but unlike Corporal Aeolus, this had pierced clean through the flesh and into his organs. Even if she removed it, a simple salve wouldn't do the job, she had to work carefully, precisely, and most importantly, quickly, if she was going to save him. He struggled and writhed in agony as the other medical staff held him down. Taking her jar, she tapped it, and the contents vaporised. Holding it up to the man's face, she unscrewed the lid, and he breathed it in, fighting against the other staff as he panicked and yelled. Watching him closely, she saw his body begin to relax, the concoction taking effect as he lost consciousness. Raising her hand, Jenny gave the man a swift slap in the face. After a few moments waiting, there was no reaction.

“Okay, he's under.” she nodded and the other staff backed away. Moving to the desk she quickly grabbed an ink well and returned. Dipping her finger in the jet black liquid, she began to quickly draw a transmutation circle on the man's abdomen. Satisfied that the design was sufficient, she nodded to the others. With a swift pull, the metal came loose, bringing with it a coating of blood and some torn flesh. It was a gory procedure, and while it was not medically advised to randomly pull pieces of metal haphazardly from people's guts, the great advantage of medical alchemy, lay in its ability to make up for heavy handedness with precision on a cellular scale. Pressing her hand to the sigil, it flashed. Blood spurted from the wound, coating Jenny's shirt with a stripe of crimson as blackened and oily liquid flowed from the opening, carrying with it the impurities and foreign bodies that didn't belong that. Before their eyes, the other staff watched as the wound closed itself, the skin tightening to form an unpleasant looking scar. Jenny breathed a sigh of relief, taking a rag to wipe the residue from the man's skin as well as removing her ink circle.

“There'll be tightness and discomfort, but the wound shouldn't cause any more difficulty than should be expected from post operative procedures. He'll be anaemic and dehydrated, I had to use some of the water in his body to wash out the wound, it was too deep to treat with local applications. So, keep him on something for the pain and make sure he gets plenty of fluids and an IV for the blood I guess.” she explained, a nurse taking notes on her instructions. Another doctor stepped forward, an older gentleman with a straight back and hooked nose, who observed Jenny's handiwork with the critical air of a professional.

“A little crude with the application of your anaesthesia, but you just performed what would have been a several hour surgery in a matter of minutes with a far better success rate than most.” he appraised.

“Um, thank you.” Jenny breathed heavily.

“Why don't you go get something to eat and a rest, we'll handle things here.” the doctor continued authoritatively.

“But-” Jenny began her protest and the man's eyebrow twitched.

“I assure you Major, we've held the fort here for quite some time before your arrival and while I understand the wide eyed idealism young doctors have towards their work, take it from experience, you will help no one if you work like you have done since your arrival and refuse to rest. Take some time, eat, sleep, and then return.” he instructed with an air that allowed for no rebuttal. Jenny nodded, grabbing her coat and heading for the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Major Fougasse, Major Secundus, these are your quarters Sirs.” the soldier indicated the small buildings before them. The two alchemists he addressed stood looking around them. The former, a young woman with long red hair, clearly out of place in this environment, the only indicator of her association with the military being the big, blue coat draped over her shoulders. The second, an elderly man with a strong frame, dark, intelligent eyes and a well groomed beard. He wore a ragged cloak with a giant war fan strapped to his back. He looked at the small building before him.

“What were these structures before?” he asked curiously. The soldier looked confused.

“Before we acquired this base from the locals, what were these huts used for?” he rephrased the question.

“Oh, I think they were store rooms Sir, for provisions. If they aren't suited to your needs, we can provide you with our temporary huts Sir, those have windows at least.” the soldier offered, but Major Secundus stared at him, his voice trailed off into a weak, non-committal murmur.

“No, this will do. While I would prefer more ventilation, this will suffice.” he began, reaching to his back and taking the fan in hand. Stepping towards his hut, he opened the door and stepped back.

“E, excuse me Sir, but, what are you doing?” the soldier continued.

“Geez, you guys really are such sissies in front of superiors, aren't you? I swear I've heard nothing but stuttering and clueless gaping from you grunts since the moment I got here.” Major Fougasse piped up, rolling her eyes at the man. “If you need an explanation, he's going to do Alchemy, watch and learn moron.” she drawled condescendingly.

Taking the fan in both hands, Secundus spread his legs should width apart, drawing the heavy weapon back until it was in line with his legs. Turning it so that the broad side faced forward, the transmutation circle etched into its surface gleamed. Swinging the fan like a baseball bat, the circle sparked, and the mild breeze the heavy fan produced grew into a sudden squall that tore into the tiny hut before turning and blowing back, sending a wave of dust and sand out of the doorway and all over the soldier.

“My apologies Private, I should have told you to step back.” Secundus announced, placing the tip of his war fan on the ground. “I simply wished to make sure it was clean before I made myself at home.” he affirmed before stepping inside. “If you will excuse me, I think I should settle in. Be sure to notify me if anything comes up.” he ordered before shutting the door.

“Yes, Sir.” the soldier coughed as dirt caught in his throat.

Sighing exasperatedly, Basil Fougasse, the Uncanny Alchemist, left the clueless soldier where he was and carried on her way. Passing the hut intended for her, she saw another ahead of her, the entrance flanked by two guards, with one of the alchemists from the truck standing outside it. Curious, she ducked into cover and observed as he was soon joined by a soldier and someone decked out in full body armour. It was a bizarre look to say the least, but intriguing all the same. She observed the trio as they made their way towards the mess. Along the way, another alchemist appeared, but that was less than interesting. Finding herself sighing at the incomparable boredom of this supposed war zone, a devilish idea suddenly flashed through Basil's mind. With a grin, she dropped to her knees and began to draw in the dirt.

A matter of moments passed as she completed her work and with a quick glance out to ensure her quarry were still there, she grinned and pressed her hands to the transmutation circle. With a flash, the ground began to flow upward, taking on a humanoid form. Skin the colour of the dusty red earth of Ishval, its limbs encircled by lines of alchemic text and two dull yellow eyes, the golem stood complete before her. Stabbing a finger into its chest, a new array glowed there.
“Attack them.” she said with a smile, jabbing her thumb towards the group. The golem lurched from behind cover, turning its dull eyes towards the group, they flashed, and it charged.
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Postby Aggroxcraig » Wed Jan 07, 2015 2:29 am

Eric sat up from the chair and rotated his auto mail arm around to see how it felt. It had been far too long since his last check up, but to him it felt like that arm still moved the same. Viola started to clean her tools and then looked over at Eric moving his arm. “Don’t be reckless with that arm. Even though I did the best I could to patch it up, it won’t be that durable out here. “

Eric looked over the automail and noticed that there were small plates that seemed to guard certain areas that were probably prone to be more open than others. “It looks fine and feels the same. How many days till my new arm is ready?”

“Two days. Tops.” Replied Viola as she finished cleaning her final tool. She put the tool down and shot Eric a glare. “I’ll say this again: Don’t do anything stupid until the arm is done. If any sand gets into your housing system it is VERY time consuming to clean up.”

Eric smiled and let out a small chuckle. “Fair enough. Don’t worry. I doubt that I’ll be seeing any action anytime soon.”

With a cold turn of her shoulder, Viola walked away back to her previous work. “Door is that way.”
“See you in two days.” Eric waved and looked over his shoulder to see the girl continuing her work. Taking a step out, Eric felt the suns heat which he carelessly forgot while getting his arm looked at. The modification process didn’t take that long as Eric remained silent (for once) which I’m sure Viola was grateful for.

The hot air was pretty unbearable, but now that he was out in the sun it became even worse. Putting the blue military coat back on, it helped dull the heat at least for a moment as he walked outside. Looking around the base, Eric wasn’t sure exactly where to go now that his arm was taken care of. He figured that since he was done he should probably head over to the officers’ quarters and (as much as he hated to think about it) receive further instructions on what he was supposed to do. Not knowing where that was exactly, Eric looked over at a soldier who appeared to be surveying the area. Eric made his way over to him and as soon as the soldier noticed him there was a moment where he gave Eric a questionable look. The soldier was easily older by a good eight to ten years and looked like he’s seen a bit too much of the war. His eyes were sunken and had dark bags underneath them. The man seemed to have been at his post for a long time and was probably nearing the end of it. “Excuse me…” Eric glanced over at the man’s collar and couldn’t remember what the markings stood for. This military thing is going to be the death of me. “ehhh, do you know where the officers’ quarters are?”

The tired man had an annoyed expression and then saw the pins on Eric collar which gave him the rank of Major. Within a split second the man’s expression changed from annoyed to alert as he put his gun to his side and gave Eric a salute. “Sir! They’re located in the northern section of the base.”

“Oh great, thanks.” Eric turned around and started to head off, but he noticed the soldier was still saluting him. Oh brother. Turning away Eric wave his hand to tell the soldier to put his hand down. “At ease, or whatever.” With that Eric left him as the soldier raised his eyebrow from the situation.

Eric walked past a few other soldiers as he went north and reached the northern most corner of the building where Viola was located. Most of the soldiers on his way didn’t seem to pay much attention, except for a few who’s eyes seemed to get bigger to see that Eric had obtained the ranking of Major even if it was due to him being a State Alchemist. Although he probably wasn’t exactly the youngest State Alchemist it was crazy to be his age and receive that title.

Passing the medical barn to his left, Eric wiped some of the sweat from his brow and ran it through his dirty blonde hair which was a bit longer than it should be in this heat. As soon as Eric opened his eyes he looked over and saw an above average man running towards a group of people with one of them wearing a large suit of armor. An Ishavlan?! Here?! Instantly Eric put his right hand on the transmutation circle on the top of his automail hand. The circle on the silver plate started to glow as alchemic sparks began to fly and caught the attention of those around him. Eric could feel the electricity surge around his shoulder as he saw the Ishavlan get closer to the group. It was always a scary feeling trying to control something that by nature was chaotic. Normally Eric was able to control it using the gun he made that shot silver bullets that were mostly meant to lead a bolt of lightning, but he didn’t have that with him at the moment. Screw it! “Get back!” Eric yelled as he let out a bolt of lightning towards the large man. A bright blue line arced around and then hit the ground near the large Ishvalan followed by a loud crack that was loud enough to be heard throughout the camp. There was some dust in the air as Eric saw the Ishavlan still standing. The bolt of lightning missed and instead hit a pile of the sand that formed a pillar of crystalized sand. The large man’s head instantly turned to Eric showing an emotionless stare before sprinting towards him. Transmutation sparks started to surround his automail again as the sleave for his military started to char up this his shoulder. Standing his ground Eric grinned hoping that maybe luck would be on his side this time. The large Ishvalan started to gain ground between him and Eric while he charged another blast of lightning. Holding the lightning in, Eric waited till the enemy got close enough to assure that he wouldn’t miss. “They say lightning never strikes same place twice. Since I missed, I still got your number Ishvalan.”

Right when the Ishvalan was a few steps in front of him, Eric released a blue bolt of lightning that was bright enough to make Eric shield his eyes with his right hand. Before he could open his eyes to see what he assumed would be a mess, he felt a hand as hard as stone grab his right arm and snap Eric’s ulna and radius bones like a twig before getting thrown. All Eric could feel was his body tumbling against the rough sand before hitting a hard object against his lower back. Opening his eyes, Eric saw that the Ishvalan heading towards him again with parts of his right shoulder and upper chest blown off with bits of crystalized stone in arch like shapes. “That’s no human, it’s a golem...” Eric managed to let out while gritting his teeth as he pushed himself up with his automail. He soon realized that the golem threw him over it’s shoulder and Eric’s body hit the crystalized sand pillar. The golem got into Eric’s face faster than the boy thought and immediately swept Eric’s leg from under him. Eric dropped to the ground and landed on his right arm. He let out a gasp of pain before seeing the golem throw a punch at his chest. Eric quickly rolled to his right and saw the golems hand punch through the sand up to it’s elbow.

Quickly Eric got up to his feet and could feel himself sweating profusely and he knew it wasn’t from the heat. His heart was racing and his senses started to blur. The enormous amounts of pain shooting from his right arm started become dull and Eric realized that he was entering a state of shock. Eric saw the golem’s dead eyes staring right back at him as it tried to pull it’s arm out of the sand. Eric instantly moved his right arm limply to the transmutation circle. Another loud crack rang through the base as the bolt of lightning crashed into the sand around the golem. The sand bound the golem’s left arm to the ground, but didn’t seem to be that strong of a binding as it began to slowly crumble. Eric took a step back as his thoughts started to become empty and he was just left there holding his arm as he looked at an unstoppable force.


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