Categories > Anime/Manga > Full Metal Alchemist
It's Like...
1 ReviewsGreed has to watch what he says around his chimeras...
A/N: Needless to say, 'tis my first foray into FMA, though not into fanfic. It's short, and it's not really as humorous as it claims to be, which may in fact account for the complete lack of reviews and/or ratings. I wasn't expecting many, but none is kind of disappointing, you know. (That was a hint. I never claimed to be subtle.) Anyway, this idea was knocking about in my brain and getting in the way of my developing full-length FMA story (which is assuredly much better than this trite: novel-length stories are my forte in any fandom), so I had to let it out. Having released said fic, I can no longer be held responsible for the effect it has on the general public, so... enjoy!
There were a lot of things to get used to, now that Greed lived with a pack of chimeras. Dorchet pissed with one leg lifted when he thought nobody was looking, Bido literally climbed the walls when he got bored, and Ulchi liked to use people for chew toys if he wasn't fed regularly. That wasn't all that was unusual about them, though, as Greed found out one afternoon.
Vodka before breakfast, yeah, but he wanted his liquor and he wanted it now, none of that 'proper time to drink' crap. If you asked Greed, it was just because most people were too scared to take what they wanted when they wanted it. But then, not everybody was like him- Greed was the best. Maybe, in hindsight, the alcohol had something to do with it, although it usually took more than half a bottle of vodka to get his tongue loose.
"Guy was as mean as a snake, really. And the ugly type, too. Mean as a /snake/, I tell you."
Suddenly, Dorchet's smile had become a little fixed. Greed noticed, and paused in his soliloquy, looking at the dog chimera over the rims of his glasses. Dorchet had set down his bar towel slowly and taken a surreptitious step back, gaze fixed on something over Greed's shoulder.
Hearing footsteps, Greed swivelled around on the barstool to find himself face to face with an extremely brassed-off Martel.
"Hello, lovely," he said suavely, flashing a sharp-toothed smile.
"Mean as a snake- is that so." And suddenly she slapped him, every bone in her palm conforming to the side of his face and leaving behind a searing imprint. Taken totally aback, Greed stared dumbly up at Martel, glasses askew. One of the dark lenses was cracked.
"In that case, you might want to consider what kind of people you're living with before you say 'hung like a bull' or 'sick as a dog'," she advised coolly. And Martel turned on her heel and marched away, leaving Greed to pick up his vodka shakily and take another swig. There went his action for tonight...
There were a lot of things to get used to, now that Greed lived with a pack of chimeras. Dorchet pissed with one leg lifted when he thought nobody was looking, Bido literally climbed the walls when he got bored, and Ulchi liked to use people for chew toys if he wasn't fed regularly. That wasn't all that was unusual about them, though, as Greed found out one afternoon.
Vodka before breakfast, yeah, but he wanted his liquor and he wanted it now, none of that 'proper time to drink' crap. If you asked Greed, it was just because most people were too scared to take what they wanted when they wanted it. But then, not everybody was like him- Greed was the best. Maybe, in hindsight, the alcohol had something to do with it, although it usually took more than half a bottle of vodka to get his tongue loose.
"Guy was as mean as a snake, really. And the ugly type, too. Mean as a /snake/, I tell you."
Suddenly, Dorchet's smile had become a little fixed. Greed noticed, and paused in his soliloquy, looking at the dog chimera over the rims of his glasses. Dorchet had set down his bar towel slowly and taken a surreptitious step back, gaze fixed on something over Greed's shoulder.
Hearing footsteps, Greed swivelled around on the barstool to find himself face to face with an extremely brassed-off Martel.
"Hello, lovely," he said suavely, flashing a sharp-toothed smile.
"Mean as a snake- is that so." And suddenly she slapped him, every bone in her palm conforming to the side of his face and leaving behind a searing imprint. Taken totally aback, Greed stared dumbly up at Martel, glasses askew. One of the dark lenses was cracked.
"In that case, you might want to consider what kind of people you're living with before you say 'hung like a bull' or 'sick as a dog'," she advised coolly. And Martel turned on her heel and marched away, leaving Greed to pick up his vodka shakily and take another swig. There went his action for tonight...
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