automail geek.

          As beautiful as the ball goers looked moving in sync with each other, Winry wanted to pull away from the scene and explore the gardens. They, too, were intricately decorated. No detail had been spared in making sure that the entirety of Starlight Garden was perfect for the night. 

          She’d never been to such a formal event before, and she was self-conscious that it showed. She hugged the edges of the dance floor and watched as various couples waltzed about, hand in hand. She was fairly content with being a wallflower for the night, but the more she watched one ask another to dance the more she wanted to join in. Though it would have been easier to ask her friends to dance, unfortunately for her--they were busy. Titus and Zan made a lovely pair, and Edward was no where to be seen. Maybe it was better for her, because where was the fun in that?

          She’d seen her arranging the bouquets throughout the gardens, and shepherding the sheep around as well. It didn’t take much for Winry to connect the dots. This was the woman had been the one to put the entire event together. In between her dance partners, she found her eyes drifting back toward the brunette and watching as she seemingly directed her little helpers continuously.

          The two girls had been glued to each other with a mutual, unspoken agreement. Ever since being pulled off the dance floor and away from the drunken, very animated, man by the twin bunned blonde, Winry had felt indebted to return the favor. Which, coincidentally happened almost immediately after.. by the same dance partner she’d been pulled away from. Their contract had been broken, but since then they’d been standing at the fray of the ball talking about people that walked in.

henlo i was mentioning this on twitter a while ago but i don’t think i’ve really introduced myself to the group yet? i could be wrong and totally repeating myself but EH WHATCHU GONNA DO IT’S 4AM.

               Fingers parted the forehead protector from his skin for a subconscious scratch as Boruto’s wandering continued. His other hand was also occupied, smattered in a liberal coating of sheep’s spit from the dampened stationary occupying it.

              “Hima’s gonna be real upset I didn’t make it home, huh… Ah, and mom’s gonna–Crap, I’m so boned.”

              Frustration clattered through the genin’s bones as his grip on the paper tightened. If Himawari began to think of him in the same unfavorable light as their father was cast in, he might seriously die of heartache. Only moments away from a swift kick to the nearest trashcan, Boruto spotted the first sign of human life chanced unto him in Stella City-Someone who looked approachable at the very least. He’d remarked to himself with an ill-contained smirk that had her features been a little more defined and her body a little more bodacious she might be mistaken for one of his orioke shadow clones.

              “Hey, big sis, dattebasa! Wait up a minute!”

@sanationes

          She’d had a long day full of haggling and trading this thing for that. For an open market that dealt with all things second hand, the stand owners that lined Butterscotch Bazaar were awfully picky. And none too polite, either. Still, she’d come away with a bag full of goodies to use. Ever since receiving an answer to her letter, she’d been determined to attempt to craft a shiny piece of automail out of what she could afford. If she was successful, then she would pay a visit to the Shortbread Sickhouse just like they’d suggested. For now, though, she settled to help anyone in anyway she could. So when the younger blond flagged her down, the mechanic was quick to turn around. 

     Sizing him up, he couldn’t have been any older than 12 or 13, and her heart ached for the family he could have been pulled away from. First with her own parents, and then with the Elric brothers she was more than familiar with the feeling of being separated from the ones she loved, and she would never willingly wish that on anybody. She hiked the bag higher onto her shoulder, and gave him her full attention along with her most hospitable smile.

   “DID you lose your sense of humor? Don’t worry, I’ll organize a search party to help you find it.” Was that the best you could come up with?

“You don’t know who Michael Jackson is? Blondie…..You have to come with me. When you hear it you’ll understand. Why I will rock the dance floor.”

     “WAIT, there’s a ball?” Had Peter been sleeping under a rock or something? “Guess I’m a little late to the party.” Cue cringy wink.