[identity profile] alchemicgenius.livejournal.com
[Edward has made it to the island, at some point, seeing as he was expected in school. The uniform is a bit big on him, the shirt untucked lazily and only half buttoned over his black tank top. On top of his uniform shirt, he's wearing his black jacket, the usual small sliver watch chain at his hip, and his white gloves. He looks a little flushed because the island is so hot.] 

[A book is settled at his hip, open and flipped so he could remember what page he was at, not that it matters. The lights go out, as with lights out and that's when Ed makes his move.

He slips his socked feet into his boots, doing them up before going to the window. He tries it first before a small muted clap and a little trickle of electric blue light, and it's unlocked. Shifting it upwards, he lets the cool night air into the room. He leans against the window frame for a moment and looks back. He grabs his device.

In one smooth motion, he kicks out the screen and drops down. The communicator only picks up grass for a moment and then his hand as he picks it up again, panting a bit.]

No one's telling me when it's 'bedtime'!
[identity profile] alchemicgenius.livejournal.com
[Ed actually looks content at the moment as he's enjoying a nice meal at a small restaurant in town. He takes a bite of the steak and relaxes a little.

Halfway through his meal, he begins to look a little sad again.]

Not much happens here...and no one's seen my brother right?  

[He looks down.]

Well...what do I do now?
[identity profile] fightsforalice.livejournal.com
Does anyone know how long one should really cook meat?

I've tried to cook it at various times, but I've either burnt it to a crisp or it's too raw. I've never actually learnt how to cook, so I'm only going by guessing, so any help I would be grateful for.

[identity profile] alchemicgenius.livejournal.com

[There's a bit of static. The device is recording, but its user has no idea how to use it and for a moment, all you can see is the white blur of a young teenager's hand. The sound of heavy breathing and a heavy footfall on cobblestones can be heard. Between the cracks in the hand, small flashes of red.


The image is suddenly free, looking at the sky of Traverse Town, and with a clatter, a glimpse of a golden braid and then a skidding sound as more of the child comes into view. Edward Elric has tripped and fallen, white gloved hand outstretched, the other hand beneath him.]

Son of a bitch.


[He rolls flat on his back and pushes himself up onto his elbows, eyeing the innocent stuffed animal with a red puff ball that has been chasing after him. Nothing that innocent looking is good in his experience. His chest heaves with the heavy breathing and he reaches for the device again, grumbling.]

Turn it off, turn it off. 

[His face comes into view, strikingly golden eyes are focused on the device as though the moogle were remote controlled...]  


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