#masteryofalchemy

Vash abruptly stopped in his contemplation of the strange landscape around him. It was so much bigger and so very different from what he was used to on the ship. He turned to look behind him, surprised to find a young boy --he looked younger than he did-- there.

//I suffer the same dilemma. I wanted to do a thing tonight but now I’m sick and ugh *sobs on shoulder*

3. My character stabs yours in the back - literally. 

They’d gotten into a skirmish again. Bandits of some sort, and fairly easy. The priest had been acting a bit odd as of late, but Gil had merely brushed it off as his usual moodiness.

The last bandit fell, simply enough, and the older man brushed his hands off. “Alright, Greenhorn, we’re done here.”

"Not yet." It was the first time he’d spoken that day, voice oddly level and casual, but with an underlying icy steel to it. "There’s still one more." And without warning, or a hint of recognition, he drove his whittling knife between Gilbert’s shoulder blades, twisting it through the vertebrae with his enhanced strength.

As the alchemist fell, looking up at him in shock, Nicholas the Punisher merely stared down at him, almost curiously. His eyes were cold.

"Bah! I don’ wanna kill any of ‘em!! Hmm… Fuck Livio, marry B, an’… guess that leaves kill Gil. But Pipes needs him. But I can’t kill B!" And killing Livio wasn’t even an option.