fossilised | Snowblind Body Shenanigans

Entry tags:

Snowblind Body Shenanigans

This is an open post for anyone set in Norfinbury. It's a random scenario where @Admin has (for mysterious meme reasons) decided to give Al his body back. This isn't game canon, obviously, I just wanted to play about with Al in his body as it will never happen in game. Action and network responses are welcome, as well as fudging the locations of characters.

---

[Al has become used to his periods of unconsciousness during the night now. He still can't think of them as sleep, not without dreams or his real body to rest in, but they're at least predictable. Usually he wakes quickly and without any grogginess that would come from real sleep, but today everything has changed.

He wakes up slowly that morning.

As soon as he wakes up, he knows everything is different. He can feel the wooden flooring under his back, rough and splintered, and hear the thud of his heart beating in his ears. He lifts one stick thin arm in amazement to stare at it, almost uncomprehending as he looks at his fingers splayed out in front of his eyes. This must be a dream. It has to be a dream, his first one in years, but... God, it feels so real.

He's in a state of shock as he pulls up to unsteady feet and scoops up his tablet automatically. He can barely keep hold of it, his fingers have none of his usual dexterity and his hands are trembling violently. It's this trembling that causes his fingers to slip and activate the video feed. The camera is at a strange angle, but it shows the upper half of a teenage boy in an extreme state of emaciation. His ribs are protruding and his stomach is concave. He has long blond hair that hangs down over one eye, the other one is wide and staring in surprise.

His legs seem ready to fold almost at once, but he forces himself to walk to the door and open it. The sunlight on the snow almost blinds him, and the wind causes goosebumps to raise on his skin immediately. He sets one bare foot in the snow and gasps, a delighted and amazed sound.]

Wow, it's so cold...

[He laughs softly, unable to stop the sheer wonder bubbling out of him. Is this real? Can it truly be so?]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Freya is in the other room trying to coax a fire from a small pile of kindling when she hears someone shifting around. At first, she dismisses it, but since their team had split for a day to cover more ground, the only other person in the house with her was Al—and that doesn't sound like Al. It sounds quiet, which is everything that Al isn't. There's no scraping of metal against wood, no clanking of him standing up or walking his big metal boots across the floor.]

[she's on her feet in an instant, frozen stiff and listening intently. The door opens. And then there's Al's voice.]

Al!

[she dashes out of the room; if there's an intruder, she's going to kick their ass. Or help Al kick their ass. Or just ask them politely what they're doing coming into people's temporary houses without asking—]

[she stops short in the middle of the room. Al isn't here, but one human is. A very, very sick-looking human, wearing no clothes at all and standing just outside the door, in the snow. For a moment, all she can do is stare in bewilderment.]

[He is too focused on the sensation of snow beneath his toes to notice the sounds of someone moving around behind him at first. It's cold and sharp and wonderful. He wriggles his foot a bit deeper in, enchanted by the crunching and shifting snow.

But then she's right there behind him and he can't fail to notice her. Her shadow falling out of the open door is what alerts him, though he should have been paying attention to the shout of his name prior to that.]

Freya?

[He turns his head to look at her. His thin face is stretched in a painfully wide smile.]

Look at this, my toes are going numb.

[He says this like it's the single best thing ever.]

[she stands and stares as the emaciated stranger with her friend's voice turns his head to look at her. Although—it's not really quite Al's voice, is it? It's different. Deeper.]

Uh—

[His pale complexion, that blond hair—those didn't seem unusual on their own. Norfinbury has a lot of shortages, of a lot of things, but pale-skinned, pale-haired humans isn't one of them. It's his face that gives her pause. Humans all kind of look alike to her anyway, but she's definitely seen features like his before. His golden eyes, too.]

[her mind races. A third Elric brother, maybe? One Al and Ed hadn't mentioned? Obviously something horrible's happened to him: torture? But that doesn't explain how he knows her name. She barely hears what he says, and ignores his toes to keep staring openly at his face.]

Who—who are you? I'm sorry, I—

[she glances around him, out into the gentle morning snowstorm, and shouts, with an edge of urgency:]

Alphonse!

Edited 2015-08-28 02:44 (UTC)

[There's a brief stab of pain that Freya doesn't recognise him, but it's there and gone in an instant, obliterated by that relief and joy that simply can't be contained. He can't judge her for not knowing who he is, not when all she's ever known him as is a suit of armour.]

Freya, it's me.

[His voice is softer, and his smile a little more genuine and focused. His toes are going numb now and his legs are shaking badly with the effort of holding him up. He either hasn't noticed, or doesn't care, that he's still naked in front of her.]

This is my real body, it's-- It's really me.

What?

[her voice is nearly a whisper. Her eyes grow even wider, and she feels lightheaded as she scrutinizes his face again. Her legs feel weak—and that's when she notices that his own legs are shaking. No wonder; they're so thin that it's a miracle they can even hold him up at all.]

[he's weak and naked and it's cold—the wind chills her through the layers of her scavenged sweater and her shirt, so it must be worse for him. She pushes the question of how is this boy actually Al away and finally moves, reaching him in two long strides and holding her arms out out for him to take.]

Here—here, hold onto me; lets get you inside first.

[As soon as he rests his hands on her arms and gets a little bit of support, it suddenly hits him just how weak he really is. His knees buckle and he would be falling right now if it weren't for the steady strength of Freya in front of him.]

Your fur is so soft.

[Whoops. He didn't mean for that to just slip out, and he blushes a bright red almost immediately.]

Is it...?

[she murmurs that, too preoccupied with making sure he doesn't fall the fuck over to properly react. Hoping he won't mind the personal space intrusion, she scoops her arm around his side, under his arms, and lifts him bodily enough to guide him back into the room and towards the couch. He's heartbreakingly light, and she lifts him with no trouble; she can feel his protruding ribs under his cold skin, and she's careful to hold him firmly but gently, not wanting to hurt him.]

Here we are. Sit.

[she settles him down on the couch, not letting go until she feels it take his slight weight. She doesn't want to leave his side, but she darts away briefly to pull the door closed and latch it.]

[Her fur tickles him when he's lifted up, and he lets loose a delighted laugh which probably doesn't help Freya to carry him with ease. But he can't help it, even rubbing up against her further to try and tickle himself again.

He remembers being tickled... The last time was probably when his Mom was still alive, when Ed asked about their father and Trisha had deflected the question by tickling her younger son. He can see her face, smiling through the sadness, and it makes him misty-eyed even while he's laughing.

His body really isn't made for strenuous activities of any kind at the moment, though, and he's left panting when he's finally on the couch and the laughter has stopped. His chest is heaving and heart fluttering, but it was worth it.]

Thanks... I guess I didn't realise how cold it would be out there.

[Which is totally the reason he fell down. The cold.]

[his laughter makes her smile, but only just—mostly she feels too confused and worried and full of feelings to smile. As soon as the door's shut, she starts to yank her sweater off over her head even while she's still walking back to the couch. Muffled:]

It is; it's far too cold for you to be outside—Alphonse, what were you thinking?

[her head pops out from under the hem, strands of her pale hair standing out in a static-electricity halo. She looks at him in fresh, stunned awe and unease as she yanks her arms out of the sleeves, and sits next to him, pressing the sweater into his hands.]

Here; put this on, you'll... oh, Al, it's... it really is you, isn't it...?

[He doesn't resist or tell her not to give up her sweater, he's not foolish enough to think he's invincible now. So far from it, actually, so he pulls the scratchy wool over his head.

Warmth immediately starts to make his skin tingle, and he draws up his knees underneath too, having easily enough space for such thin appendages.]

Yeah.

[A smile blossoms on his face, incredulous and ecstatic.]

Yeah, it really is. I'm... I'm finally me again.

[his body might be frail, but the strength and life in his eyes are unmistakable. She meets them, and under the force of all his joy, her stunned state starts to give way. Unconsciously, she slowly begins to mirror his smile, and she feels a pressure in her throat like she might start to cry.]

But—but how? I don't understand...

[she's smiling fully now, but her eyes are still wide and full of worry. She reaches for his hand with both of her own, to take it gently and feel how real he is, to feel skin and not metal.]

Where's your armor gone?

Edited 2015-08-29 02:22 (UTC)

I don't know.

[For the first time since he woke up, his brow is marred with a slight frown. The loss of his smile accentuates the hollow sunken look to his cheeks, but his eyes are still bright and lively.]

I just woke up this way, but... they must have done something to me.

[The why is the question he might not want to know the answer to. That, and the how. What if they used a philosopher's stone on him? What if--?!]

[her heart sinks as she watches his smile fade and his face change. She opens her mouth to say something reassuring, or offer some kind of advice, but... she's got no clue where to even begin. She can't help him with that.]

[so instead, she seizes on what she can help him with, and quickly turns away, moving from the couch and over to her backpack on the table.]

...Clothes. You need more clothes.

[she unzips it and starts digging through her stuff, pulling things out and piling them haphazardly on the table: a battered-looking fantasy novel, a jar of peanut butter, a box of plastic spoons, and then finally her shawl and a pair of scavenged trousers she'd been meaning to tailor to fit better.]

[Al's attention drifts away from her as she upends her belongings onto the tablet to look for the clothing, his eyes sliding over to one of the nearby closed doors. Ed was behind there, probably still sleeping with his tummy out. Ignorant of what has happened, unaware of this huge change.]

Freya...

[He gulps, the worry forming lines on his forehead.]

Ed-- He doesn't, I don't know what he'll think or do when he sees me.

[she swallows, and closes her eyes briefly when he says that, then glances back at that door, herself. She picks up the trousers and bundles them up, her hands moving on their own, as she finally speaks.]

He... we don't have to wake him yet.

[she comes back and sinks onto the couch next to Al, her hands still bundled in the trousers. He looks so impossibly small, all curled up in that sweater. Alphonse shouldn't be this small. She's still so confused, and a little frightened, but those worry lines on his face make her put on a reassuring voice.]

He'll be... he'll be overjoyed, won't he? This—having your real body back, this is what you've both been working towards for years, isn't it?

Mm.

[He understands that she's trying to reassure him, but this is too huge of a thing for platitudes. He could hope that Ed would only see the culmination of their efforts finally bearing fruit, but he knows his brother too well. Ed will ask why, and he will blame himself if the answers aren't what they like.]

But I don't know how it happened, what if-- what if they used a philosopher's stone on me? Brother and I swore that we would never do that, no matter what happened.

[she rests one hand lightly on his shoulder, with the awkward sincerity of someone who's not used to comforting other people but who really wants to give it her best shot. She looks into his face, her voice soft.]

And you didn't, Al. And neither did your brother. You haven't broken that promise. If they—the admin, or, or whoever—used one of those, that isn't your fault.

[of course, she's got no idea what a philosopher's stone is, but she can guess that it's nothing good. She cant ask him about that mystery if he freezes to death first, though, so she holds up the trousers, already feeling guilty about hole she'd cut in the back for her tail.]

Here—put these on.

Edited 2015-09-10 14:52 (UTC)

[She doesn't understand, but he can't blame her for that when she doesn't know what the stones are and what they're made of. But it does matter, it matters a hell of a lot because Al will never be able to forgive himself or find happiness in his body if it was bought at the cost of other lives.

He doesn't reply again, he only ducks his head and worries his lower lip with his teeth. Long golden bangs cover his face pretty effectively, but he's not exactly subtle at hiding his discomfort after years of not having to worry about his expressions giving him away.]

Mm, thanks.

[He doesn't even make comment on the hole yet, just slipping his trembling stick legs into the legs.]

Are you sure you don't need them?

[you can't hide behind your hair from a gold medalist in the Hiding Behind My Hair Olympics, Al. Freya watches him as he gets dressed, feeling more unsettled about this situation than ever. She manages a soft smile at his question, though, and shakes her head firmly.]

I'm sure. Consider them yours. You can't go around half-dressed, and I've got clothes already—and fur, too. This new body of yours doesn't even have that.

[his new body doesn't have much of anything, honestly. He's so thin that he almost vanishes inside his borrowed clothes, and she regards him anxiously.]

Edited 2015-09-11 01:14 (UTC)

I know.

[He lifts one thin arm up to his eye level, looking at his hand just as anxiously. It's so pale, he can almost see his veins through the paper like quality of his skin.]

...I've never even Brother this, but I turned away from my body just before we were taken here. I had the chance to get it back and I said no.

[Wouldn't he have made the same choice here?]

[she looks at his hand with him, at the ghostly blue veins under his skin. She clasps her own hands together in her lap, part of her thinking that if she'd been made to choose between a suit of armor or this frail body, she might pick the armor.]

[feeling mean for even thinking such a thing, and unsettled by what he's just said, she looks at him with fresh concern.]

What...? Didn't your body vanish? [she's fuzzy on the details from when he told her what happened. Something about human transmutation being totally great? She wrinkles her muzzle at a really awful thought:] ...Was your body being stored somewhere?

[His eyes are still fixed on his hand, remembering enclosing his larger metal hand all the way around this thin wrist in distress and frustration.]

Yeah, it was-- It was growing without me, waiting for me to come and claim it. But when I had the chance, it-- there was... everyone was fighting and I needed to be able to fight too. I didn't want to be useless.

[And now he will be. This isn't a situation where this body is any use either, he will just be a burden on everyone when the situation is already so dire.]

[she makes a face at the image of Al's soulless body growing away in some cosmic lost-and-found, but she doesn't miss his implications or his tone of voice in the last thing he says.]

Not useless. You aren't. There's so much more to you than just that old armor, Al—it might be gone, but we've still got the most important part of you right here.

[she gently closes her hand around his.]

[He can't help the soft inhalation of wonder when her soft fur brushes against his hand, but he doesn't let it distract from the gravity of the situation.]

I can barely stand.

[It hurts to be candid about it, but it's the truth.]

How can I be of any help here? What if we come across one of those shadows? And even if we don't, I'll slow you all up moving just between houses.

So we'll be less ambitious with how much ground we cover. [she is nervous about moving Mr. Malnourishment around, but she keeps her tone gently matter-of-fact.] And I'll carry you, or your brother. You weigh almost nothing—if I can outrun monsters wearing my pack, I can do it with you.

Besides, you'll... you'll get your strength back, eventually. We'll call Clayton; he's a doctor. He can help you, too, better than we can.

Snowblind Body Shenanigans

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

new priority no. 1: make like three variations of this icon, i use it too much

Make all the icons, she's too adorable to resist

omfgg

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

tags this super late because I thirst for al

huhuhu

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)