time to take a stroll

[formercheerio]

Who: Quinn + EVERYBODY
Where: The beach
When: June 25
Rating: --
Summary: Quinn announced a beach party on the network. Or just a get together. Bring your own whatever you want to do. Mingle mingle mingle

Comments

[oversight]

As he listens, he tries to imagine what something like that would be like. Would he feel better or worse knowing that something like that could have been prevented? Even with all the details, he can't figure it would be easy to accept those new memories.

Gesturing to the automail, he shrugs a little and says, "Not to be rude, but I kinda like the look. Seriously, though, you're thinkin' 'bout what could be, but are you sure one life's struggle's gonna be any diff'rent from another? Much as I'd like to have my dad back, I'm pretty sure that wouldn't've done me or him any favors." He's not usually so candid, nor so pointed, but there's a common vein of be careful what you wish for throughout every story that begins this way.

[seekinghome]

"Bucky liked my arm when he saw it his first day here, too," Ed says drily. "I'm not saying it's not cool or anything, but it's a damn good thing it doesn't rain here, because it makes my ports hurt and I'm just miserable all day."

"If I wake you up during camping with the nightmares I've got from how life turned out, don't say I didn't warn you," Ed snorts.

[oversight]

Blake smirks, but both hands come up in an acknowledgement. Although he doesn't quite know what it feels like to have his ports hurt, he's often reminded of old aches and pains and sprains and breaks when the weather starts acting up. Thankfully, Wonderland has pretty sedate weather.

"Hey, if that happens, I'm gettin' you up an' makin' you have some warm milk beer or somethin'. No nightmares when we're due a good, relaxing evenin' off." Of course, knowing this place, that's exactly the time when some sort of silly bad dreams event will plague them all...

[seekinghome]

Ed wrinkles his nose. "I only drink beer warm when there's no other choice." Ew. "I don't think anything about camping out should trigger anything."

If an event like that crops up when they're camping and Ed finds out about Blake being the one to think about it, he is completely blaming him for giving Wonderland ideas.

[oversight]

Isn't there some kind of motto for being prepared for any situation? Blake nods slowly and tips his head forward, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck, mind wandering briefly. If they're going to have a good time, it's gotta be comfortable. The last thing he wants is for their vacation to come across as stressful for any of them, Ed included.

"We'll make it work, right? Can't exactly guarantee nothin's gonna happen, but I'm there, and Al and Greed'll be there. Don't know much we can't handle together," Blake assures, his hand moving to give Ed's shoulder a squeeze.

[seekinghome]

Ed isn't really expecting problems aside from maybe ones involving wrangling Greed into something. Just being pessimistic. "Enh. Probably the most we need to worry about is somebody setting something on fire."

[oversight]

"Or someone settin' themselves on fire," Blake says ruefully. He understands the pessimism. Some days he doesn't feel all that much like getting out of bed because his mind and body are asking him what's the point? But nothing's ever been solved by a constantly poor outlook, so he's always done his best to avoid over-thinking where frustration's involved.

He tips back the beer again and then turns some toward Ed. "You mind if I take a closer look at your arm? Don't got anything quite like this back home, an' I know yours works pretty damn well most times." Call it curiosity; even if it's taken him this long to ask, it's been on his mind since he first spied the appendage.

[seekinghome]

Ed rolls his eyes skywards before holding out his arm for Blake to take a look at. "This is some of why I wear long sleeves. I actually got this one from Winry back when we had an invasion of people, including multiple Deans, running around."

He gives a half-unbelieving scoff after a moment. "Saw the previous one pop right out of thin air. Anyway, Winry ended up here too and of course, being her, wanted to check my arm and leg. After the arm, she didn't bother with the leg and went straight to replacing it with a new one from my closet. Still not as good as limbs made by hand by her, but better than what I was able to get. Needless to say, I hope Greed doesn't have to break my arm again."

[oversight]

Oh, Ed, don't looks so put-upon, it's not like Blake's making fun (if he wanted to do that, he'd make short comments), only trying to understand and appreciate a little more of the details that make this Elric who he is.

"Greed broke your arm?" He eyes the young man for a moment, eyebrows knit together in concern, and then returns to the inspection. He can't say he'd ever want robot parts, but if he had to have them, Blake thinks he'd want them to look as cool as Ed's arm looks. "You still feel an' everything, right? Had to hurt..."

[seekinghome]

Come on, Blake would probably have about the same reaction after enough times. At least this time, Ed isn't being stripped down to his boxers by a horde of mechanics.

"I wasn't the one in the driver's seat at the time, my damn Mirror was. Anyway, I don't really feel anything with this arm, not the way you're probably thinking, but I definitely noticed not feeling anything from my elbow down. There's a safety measure for in case of serious breakage going on, since my arm is meant to help me fight and that's the most likely time for something to get screwed up."

[oversight]

Blake's taken by the whole idea of it, though he wouldn't probably trade his own arm for the same technology. Still, it's impressive there are failsafes, even if that would make sense for technology that's well outside the scope of what he has in his own world.

"So, for hand-to-hand, you're how much better off?" He can't recall seeing Ed in the thick of it, but he knows Elric can fight, and he knows that he can hold his own just as well as most everyone in Wonderland.

[seekinghome]

"Provided that whoever I'm fighting is human, I can punch a hell of a lot harder than the other guy. Not to mention block hits and make a blade using alchemy. This," he taps the grill of his forearm, "is thicker than usual to give me enough material to make a decent-sized blade to fight with."

[oversight]

Now the pieces are starting to form a little more elegantly. Between what he's heard from the Elrics and what he's heard from Greed, Blake's getting a more and more complete picture of what all of this means, right up to and including Ed's what? Bio-organic parts?

He nods appreciatively and goes back to keeping his hands to himself. "You ever do anything crazy? Like make an ice cream scoop instead?"

[seekinghome]

"No. Leaving aside that too much dairy anything make me feel like shit, that's what messing with other crap instead of my arm is for. I only do up the blade when I need to fight with it since I'd rather not stress the metal with too many transmutations."

[oversight]

Well, okay, so that sounds reasonable enough, doesn't it? Blake laughs a little and shakes his head. "Guess you know better'n me, then. Not sure I could resist. Then again, if it's my primary weapon..." He probably wouldn't want to weaken it either.

"Must be strange. Diff'rent, I mean. How long did it take you to catch on to that kinda thing? Transmutation or whatever."

[seekinghome]

"Al and I have been doing alchemy since I was about five or six. Most people don't, uh, start that young."

He scratches at the back of his neck. "Dad's an alchemist too, which is why. It runs in the family."

[oversight]

"So it's generational." As far as Blake's concerned, that's an interesting trait to have. "Is it a mental kind of thing? Or a science thing? Pretty sure I've got no idea how you do what you do, but it's interestin' an' I wouldn't mind knowin'," he admits, figuring they're close enough now to be frank with one another.

[seekinghome]

"In our case, yeah. Not everybody that gets into alchemy have parents that are alchemists. There's a lot of science. Multiple branches of it, and which branches depend on what you're specializing in. Although whatever you're doing, you do need chemistry, since understanding what the stuff you're working with is made of is kinda important."

[oversight]

Blake lifts his hands and shakes his head. "Chemistry? I'm out," he jokes. He'd been awful about school and he could have learned a lot more if he would have avoided avoiding school. Unfortunately, he found it droll and boring and no amount of challenge and just didn't pay attention.

"You two're damn smart. Really glad you're on our side, Ed," he added, too fond for his own good.

[seekinghome]

"Yeah, just as well. With the shit I know, I could be terrifying if I took a different path," Ed says wryly, finally remembering the beer he was holding and taking a sip. "A lot of the stuff I've learned is knowledge that's best not to let fall into the wrong hands."

[oversight]

"Or the wrong jaws," he reminds, following Ed's example and pulling healthily from his own bottle. The Jabberwocky's never ever far from his mind.

"How old're you again?"

[seekinghome]

"My nineteenth birthday rolled around back in January. Although Wonderland's convinced I'm still eighteen." Ed had been trying to ignore that thing, thank you. He's not sure if it'd even be able to figure out how to use alchemy, assuming it was even capable of using it if it figures it out. If it can, they were all boned.

[oversight]

Blake smirks, somewhat pleased with being perpetually twenty-nine, even if he expects that he actually feels about a hundred years old these days. Downing what's left of the beer in one fell swoop, he makes an appreciative ahhhh noise and then cradles the bottle between his hands.

"One day you'll prob'ly wish you coulda stayed eighteen forever," he muses, bumping arms with Ed. "But for now, I got no problem callin' you nineteen. And seein' as how my home's not yours, gonna spare you a lecture 'bout underage drinkin'." He pauses and laughs. "But only as long as you recognize I'm jokin'. Once you start takin' me seriously, then we'll have trouble," he finished, pushing up to stand, clearly fond of the young man as-is.

[seekinghome]

Ed snorts. "Drinking age back home is eighteen. Same for Germany. I'm covered in both worlds so long as I stay out of the States. For the record, I find the drinking and smoking age there stupid. People are old enough to join the military, get married, have sex, get jobs, and all that other crap at eighteen, but not to drink or smoke?"

Not that he has any intention of taking up smoking as a habit. The drinking was quite enough.

[oversight]

Blake's done enough smoking and drinking in his time to know that even in the States, it's crap to put hard limits on soft laws. At sixteen, he was smoking and pouring alcohol down his throat like it was going out of style, figuring if the rest of the world didn't care that he was homeless at sixteen, then they didn't have a right to care that he was high and drunk at sixteen. It's probably why he doesn't bother lecturing anymore.

"It's crap, I agree. And even if I didn't, not a cop anymore, and not a cop here," he says, figuring Ed gets his drift.

Lingering, he gestures over his shoulder. "Now, I've got a mighty need for another hot dog. Any interest, or is this where we part ways for a bit?"