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To Whom We Swear Loyalty
Prompt: Ranfan and Ed, comparing automail, or reactions to Winry examining Ranfan's automail
Angry protests died on her lips as a sudden rush of heat crept up her neck and face turning even the tips of her ears scarlet. A single quietly teasing phrase had cut through the noisy room, attuned to the timbre as she was after so many years of hearing it. She looked away from the young mechanic's eyes, embarrassed at the chastisement, and tugged the collar of her shirt a little higher. The girl, the Elric's automail technician clapped her hands happily at her unspoken acquiescence and began stripping Ed out of his shirt, chatting gleefully above his own protests.
Dark eyes shot over to the figure near the window. It had been the young Master's voice just then, but now, as he stood there -- his figure and his face -- his body language and expression were foreign to her. His voice even was different most of the time now. It sent a chill down her spine. She had sworn her loyalty to the young Master, but was this other being a part of that now as well?
His gaze slid across her face for a brief second, and smirked. The heat in her cheeks intensified as she turned hastily away, eliciting a chuckle from the homunculus. Oblivious, the young automail mechanic had finally gotten the older Elric brother into a grumbling submission, and she let her attention focus on what the girl was doing. Turning both of their arms this way and that, she exclaimed in delight over the light, durable design of her mechanical limb. She pointed out differences and similarities, and the girl found herself watching with a growing interest. If only because it was part of her own body being verbally dissected with such passion. It would be good that she know these details, so she filed the words away for future need.
The older girl asked questions as well, and though her replies came slowly at first, she realized after a while that she had informed the blonde of nearly every detail of her rehabilitation and training with the new arm. Six months, six long and grueling months had taxed her mind and body to the extreme. To be here, by the young Master's side.
She glanced at him, and he smiled, eyes closing for a moment allowing her to see the young Master’s face she had sworn loyalty to. The eyes opened again and the smile became a leer as the homunculus jerked a finger at his chest. The two childhood friends were heatedly arguing over a scratch in the boy’s automail, and didn’t hear the words he offered half-smug himself.
"He says, 'Good job.'"
Angry protests died on her lips as a sudden rush of heat crept up her neck and face turning even the tips of her ears scarlet. A single quietly teasing phrase had cut through the noisy room, attuned to the timbre as she was after so many years of hearing it. She looked away from the young mechanic's eyes, embarrassed at the chastisement, and tugged the collar of her shirt a little higher. The girl, the Elric's automail technician clapped her hands happily at her unspoken acquiescence and began stripping Ed out of his shirt, chatting gleefully above his own protests.
Dark eyes shot over to the figure near the window. It had been the young Master's voice just then, but now, as he stood there -- his figure and his face -- his body language and expression were foreign to her. His voice even was different most of the time now. It sent a chill down her spine. She had sworn her loyalty to the young Master, but was this other being a part of that now as well?
His gaze slid across her face for a brief second, and smirked. The heat in her cheeks intensified as she turned hastily away, eliciting a chuckle from the homunculus. Oblivious, the young automail mechanic had finally gotten the older Elric brother into a grumbling submission, and she let her attention focus on what the girl was doing. Turning both of their arms this way and that, she exclaimed in delight over the light, durable design of her mechanical limb. She pointed out differences and similarities, and the girl found herself watching with a growing interest. If only because it was part of her own body being verbally dissected with such passion. It would be good that she know these details, so she filed the words away for future need.
The older girl asked questions as well, and though her replies came slowly at first, she realized after a while that she had informed the blonde of nearly every detail of her rehabilitation and training with the new arm. Six months, six long and grueling months had taxed her mind and body to the extreme. To be here, by the young Master's side.
She glanced at him, and he smiled, eyes closing for a moment allowing her to see the young Master’s face she had sworn loyalty to. The eyes opened again and the smile became a leer as the homunculus jerked a finger at his chest. The two childhood friends were heatedly arguing over a scratch in the boy’s automail, and didn’t hear the words he offered half-smug himself.
"He says, 'Good job.'"