rapacityinblue (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rapacityinblue) wrote2012-01-01 05:27 pm
rapacityinblue) wrote2012-01-01 05:27 pm
Entry tags:
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Title: Surreality
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Spoilers: Ep51, the movie
Rating: PG.
Pairing: Roy/Ed
Summary: Sunday Crosswords
Warnings: Character Death (referenced, not explicit)
Word Count: 360
Notes: Part of the Way Back Home series.
In which I imitate Hemingway.
Way Back Home
[Previous Fics]
Longing and Toast
Sin
Allocutus
Avoiding the Problem
Surreality. noun.
1. Having qualities attributed to or associated with surrealism
2. Having an oddly dreamlike quality.
“Edward Elric could not believe the surreality of the situation.”
Edward sat behind the bars and stared Roy down. “Hah, hah, very funny, asshole. The word doesn't conjugate that way. Anyway, it doesn't fit the prompt.”
Roy sat in front of the bars, paper spread over his knees, and stared back. “Yes, it does.”
“Does not.”
“The prompt is 'unrealistic.'”
“'Real' is the root word of both unreal and surreal. You can't use a word to define itself.”
“They're synonymous, Edward.”
“Fantastical.”
“It doesn't fit.”
“Fantasies are unrealistic, Mustang.”
“It doesn't fit the box.”
“Oh.”
“Anyway, the word doesn't conjugate that way.”
“Fantastical was your word!”
“It was yours, and I meant surreality.”
“Oh.”
“Indeed.”
“Have they decided on a date yet?”
Roy eyed the other man's nonchalance. “You know, you've got a clear shot at that insanity plea if you want to live.”
“I don't want to live.”
“August 9th.”
“Is that a Sunday?”
“You tell me.”
“Sunday.”
“Its a Thursday.”
“Good. I hate being rushed on the crossword.”
“No trouble with that insanity plea.”
“Do you think I'm insane, Roy?”
“No.”
“I'm not.”
“You're far too smart to go insane,” Roy agreed.
“I'm a prodigy, you know. Youngest State Alchemist ever. Powerful, too. Capable of performing feats other alchemists only dream of.”
“Don't think just because you're depressed, crippled, malnourished, and imprisoned under a death sentence I won't hit you.”
“I'll sue your ass.”
“You can't sue me, I'm the Fuhrer.”
“Really?”
“You can't sue the military! What did they teach you in that hick town?”
“I meant, 'really, you're the Fuhrer'.” The blond sat smugly and waited out the silence.
“Nobody likes a smartass, Edward.”
“Maybe I really am crazy.”
“Maybe you are.”
“I'm not.”
“I know.”
“It's equivalent exchange.”
“I know.”
“It's not, really.
“I know.”
“I mean, Al is worth six of me.”
“I know.”
“Say something else, you fuckhead!”
“You still refer to your brother in the present tense?”
“Chimerical.”
“Have you been sitting on that all that time?”
“Yes.”
Roy stared down at the paper in his lap. “It fits.”
Edward sat behind the bars and stared at Roy. “I know.”
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Spoilers: Ep51, the movie
Rating: PG.
Pairing: Roy/Ed
Summary: Sunday Crosswords
Warnings: Character Death (referenced, not explicit)
Word Count: 360
Notes: Part of the Way Back Home series.
In which I imitate Hemingway.
Way Back Home
[Previous Fics]
Longing and Toast
Sin
Allocutus
Avoiding the Problem
Surreality. noun.
1. Having qualities attributed to or associated with surrealism
2. Having an oddly dreamlike quality.
“Edward Elric could not believe the surreality of the situation.”
Edward sat behind the bars and stared Roy down. “Hah, hah, very funny, asshole. The word doesn't conjugate that way. Anyway, it doesn't fit the prompt.”
Roy sat in front of the bars, paper spread over his knees, and stared back. “Yes, it does.”
“Does not.”
“The prompt is 'unrealistic.'”
“'Real' is the root word of both unreal and surreal. You can't use a word to define itself.”
“They're synonymous, Edward.”
“Fantastical.”
“It doesn't fit.”
“Fantasies are unrealistic, Mustang.”
“It doesn't fit the box.”
“Oh.”
“Anyway, the word doesn't conjugate that way.”
“Fantastical was your word!”
“It was yours, and I meant surreality.”
“Oh.”
“Indeed.”
“Have they decided on a date yet?”
Roy eyed the other man's nonchalance. “You know, you've got a clear shot at that insanity plea if you want to live.”
“I don't want to live.”
“August 9th.”
“Is that a Sunday?”
“You tell me.”
“Sunday.”
“Its a Thursday.”
“Good. I hate being rushed on the crossword.”
“No trouble with that insanity plea.”
“Do you think I'm insane, Roy?”
“No.”
“I'm not.”
“You're far too smart to go insane,” Roy agreed.
“I'm a prodigy, you know. Youngest State Alchemist ever. Powerful, too. Capable of performing feats other alchemists only dream of.”
“Don't think just because you're depressed, crippled, malnourished, and imprisoned under a death sentence I won't hit you.”
“I'll sue your ass.”
“You can't sue me, I'm the Fuhrer.”
“Really?”
“You can't sue the military! What did they teach you in that hick town?”
“I meant, 'really, you're the Fuhrer'.” The blond sat smugly and waited out the silence.
“Nobody likes a smartass, Edward.”
“Maybe I really am crazy.”
“Maybe you are.”
“I'm not.”
“I know.”
“It's equivalent exchange.”
“I know.”
“It's not, really.
“I know.”
“I mean, Al is worth six of me.”
“I know.”
“Say something else, you fuckhead!”
“You still refer to your brother in the present tense?”
“Chimerical.”
“Have you been sitting on that all that time?”
“Yes.”
Roy stared down at the paper in his lap. “It fits.”
Edward sat behind the bars and stared at Roy. “I know.”