Other: I've decided to have Hohenheim hang around for a bit longer past his canon death. Though the strain of the final battle with the Father takes a huge toll upon his body, he was able to survive long enough to make it to Trisha's grave before he finally gives up the ghost. I'll make sure to discuss with the mods how I plan to keep him alive should my application be accepted.
Additional Links: Fullmetal Alchemist wiki (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fullmetal_Alchemist) Van Hohenheim character wiki (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Van_Hohenheim)
First Person (text entry): Ah, what a curious book I found the other day. It appears to be a journal of some sort, though I can't imagine why so many people would all choose to write in the same book. It must have been passed between so many hands... I can only imagine the long and arduous journey this book must have taken in order to end up in my hands at this very moment in time.
But the strangest thing is that every time I open it, there are always new entries, penned by so many different people. And sometimes there are pictures that move, just like the ones in the cinema. I wonder how they got so small? What sort of alchemy could have produced such a book? I find myself filled with so many questions.
Just when I think I've learned all there is to know about the world, I realize that we've only just begun to scratch the surface. It is a comforting thought, to know that there are still mysteries as of yet unsolved... Truly, the world is a strange and wondrous place.
Third Person: Prompt: You've lost something, and have no idea where it is.
Risembool... How long had it been since he'd left his home behind? Five years? No, longer than that... Ten years, surely. The little children over at the neighboring farm were practically teenagers now. That meant that Edward and Alphonse...
That's right. Ten years had gone by. Edward would be fifteen years old, and Alphonse would be fourteen. Nearly grown men. Hohenheim continued down the familiar path, his thoughts turned deeply inward, so that he hardly noticed the landscape around him. What would they say to him? Would they even remember him? Al had been so little... barely a toddler. And Trisha...
Trisha. She would be so disappointed in him. He still hadn't discovered a way to return to being mortal. And now, he could no longer pursue that research, not when he knew what the Father was planning... He had need of the people of Xerxes, whose souls resided within his accursed body. Even now, he could hear them chattering softly deep within his consciousness. He'd learned over the centuries how to tune it out until it was nothing more than white noise. But not completely... Never completely.
Hohenheim paused in his musings, coming to a stop at the old oak tree that marked the beginning of his property. But... something was wrong. The upper half of the tree was charred black. And his house... only the ruined foundation and bits of wood overgrown with green moss and vines remained.
No, this wasn't right. Perhaps he'd taken a wrong turn somewhere back. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten lost while his mind was on other matters. No wonder so many people accused him of walking around with his head in the clouds!
But if this wasn't his house... then where had it gone? Had the sleepy rural town truly changed so much during his absence? Or was his memory just starting to fade? To think he might finally be going senile, after four hundred years...
Hohenheim looked left and right, feeling suddenly anxious. His wife and children. His home. They had to be around here, somewhere! They couldn't have just up and vanished! He made a promise to Trisha... He promised that he'd come back one day.
His eyes widened a bit as his gaze settled on a familiar yellow house in the distance. The Rockbell residence. Surely Pinako would know what happened to his house!
It wasn't long before he found himself at the front door. He could hear a dog barking inside. Since when did they have a—? Oh, right. That black and white puppy would have grown by now.
Without even bothering to knock on the door, Hohenheim stepped inside and announced, without preamble: “Pinako... I seem to have lost my house.”
Van Hohenheim | Fullmetal Alchemist (re-app) DONE!
Additional Links:
Fullmetal Alchemist wiki (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fullmetal_Alchemist)
Van Hohenheim character wiki (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Van_Hohenheim)
First Person (text entry):
Ah, what a curious book I found the other day. It appears to be a journal of some sort, though I can't imagine why so many people would all choose to write in the same book. It must have been passed between so many hands... I can only imagine the long and arduous journey this book must have taken in order to end up in my hands at this very moment in time.
But the strangest thing is that every time I open it, there are always new entries, penned by so many different people. And sometimes there are pictures that move, just like the ones in the cinema. I wonder how they got so small? What sort of alchemy could have produced such a book? I find myself filled with so many questions.
Just when I think I've learned all there is to know about the world, I realize that we've only just begun to scratch the surface. It is a comforting thought, to know that there are still mysteries as of yet unsolved... Truly, the world is a strange and wondrous place.
Third Person: Prompt: You've lost something, and have no idea where it is.
Risembool... How long had it been since he'd left his home behind? Five years? No, longer than that... Ten years, surely. The little children over at the neighboring farm were practically teenagers now. That meant that Edward and Alphonse...
That's right. Ten years had gone by. Edward would be fifteen years old, and Alphonse would be fourteen. Nearly grown men. Hohenheim continued down the familiar path, his thoughts turned deeply inward, so that he hardly noticed the landscape around him. What would they say to him? Would they even remember him? Al had been so little... barely a toddler. And Trisha...
Trisha. She would be so disappointed in him. He still hadn't discovered a way to return to being mortal. And now, he could no longer pursue that research, not when he knew what the Father was planning... He had need of the people of Xerxes, whose souls resided within his accursed body. Even now, he could hear them chattering softly deep within his consciousness. He'd learned over the centuries how to tune it out until it was nothing more than white noise. But not completely... Never completely.
Hohenheim paused in his musings, coming to a stop at the old oak tree that marked the beginning of his property. But... something was wrong. The upper half of the tree was charred black. And his house... only the ruined foundation and bits of wood overgrown with green moss and vines remained.
No, this wasn't right. Perhaps he'd taken a wrong turn somewhere back. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten lost while his mind was on other matters. No wonder so many people accused him of walking around with his head in the clouds!
But if this wasn't his house... then where had it gone? Had the sleepy rural town truly changed so much during his absence? Or was his memory just starting to fade? To think he might finally be going senile, after four hundred years...
Hohenheim looked left and right, feeling suddenly anxious. His wife and children. His home. They had to be around here, somewhere! They couldn't have just up and vanished! He made a promise to Trisha... He promised that he'd come back one day.
His eyes widened a bit as his gaze settled on a familiar yellow house in the distance. The Rockbell residence. Surely Pinako would know what happened to his house!
It wasn't long before he found himself at the front door. He could hear a dog barking inside. Since when did they have a—? Oh, right. That black and white puppy would have grown by now.
Without even bothering to knock on the door, Hohenheim stepped inside and announced, without preamble: “Pinako... I seem to have lost my house.”