Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Hagane no Renkinjutsushi - Summarized ❯ Episode 15 - Ishbal Gyakusatsu ( Chapter 15 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Armstrong: I will show you the artistic alchemy technique that has been passed down in my family for generations! It involves one of my eyes bugging out.

Scar: You're a lousy shot with that. Or are you just flexing your testosterone?

Armstrong: This is the first time I throw off my shirt, but it won't be the last!

Audience: MY EYES! MY EYES! IT BURNS!

Armstrong: Behind destruction exists creation! And behind creation exists destruction! Destroy, then create, this is the law of the universe.

Scar: I think I speak for everyone when I say ... Whaaa the fuck???

Audience: My eyes! My eyes!

Scar: I'll deal with you after I've satisfied my obsession with Crystal and Fullmetal. Maybe by that point I'll have figured out just what in the fuck you're all about.

Armstrong: Not so fast, you haven't heard my speech about how you're a hypocrite for going against your god's teachings.

Scar: Not interested. I only listen to the voice of my Arm O' Doom.

Audience: AAAAIIIIIEEEE! Where's my lobotomy knife!? Put some fucking clothes on for the love of god! And give Mustang back his eyeliner!!

Edward: I'm glad I left before I had to see that.


*Opening credits*

*Title card : the Ishbal Massacre*


Edward: Here we are, in dusty East City, and it's raining again.

Alphonse: Nii-san, what are we going to do now?

Edward: Look suspicious by hiding my automail and Marcoh as these trucks pass. It's not like they could possibly recognize me without seeing automail, after all.

Alphonse: So we're not going back to East HQ?

Edward: Nope. The Colonel can't protect Dr. Marcoh anymore, since I so cleverly led Gran to him.

Marcoh: There are other people from Central here?

Edward: Yep, pretty much the whole hierarchy, from the Daisotou down.

Marcoh: To capture me?

Edward: ... Yeah. To capture you. Geez, and people say I have an ego, sheesh.

Marcoh: I don't care if that guy kills me. He has a right to do it.

Edward: You're such a chipper fellow.


*elsewhere*


Breda: Colonel! We found him!

Audience: AAAAHHHH! MY EYES! Somebody put a shirt on him, please!!

Mustang: Major! Major, what happened to your shirt?

Hughes: Here I am, to add some much-needed coolness to this scene. Focus on me and not Armstrong, and save what remaining brain cells are left to you.

Fury: I am exceptionally short. But still taller than Edward!

Armstrong: He was an Ishbalite.

Hughes: Major! Stay put! And shut up, nobody wants to look at your pecs anymore!

Audience: Nobody ever did!

Mustang: So, he has a good reason to go after State Alchemists.

Scar: Damned straight, check out how cool I am when I'm lounging.


*elsewhere*


Edward: Let's have some damned exposition about Ishbal already.

Marcoh: Okay. This is some of the most detailed exposition you'll get, so pay attention. In fact, let's just have a flashback.


*flash back*


Random Alchemist: Although I know that the Ishbalites hate alchemy, I'm here to show them the wonders of alchemy. At gunpoint. I'm not merely an alchemist, I'm a MISSIONARY!

Voiceover!Marcoh: Because they hate alchemy, and we alchemists can't stay out of where we're not wanted, a war started. But remember, alchemy is a SCIENCE! An evangelical science!

Marcoh: They don't have alchemy OR modern weaponry because of their beliefs. Modern being a relative term here ...

Gran: Just what the hell is this thing I'm looking at anyway?

Marcoh: The war continues to spread because we're trying to stomp them down with force, so everyone around them supports them against us. But this isn't some kind of thinly-veiled allegory for a future war in another universe, no sirree bob.

Kimbly: You'll see me again, take note of the tattoos on my hands. And my shaved armpits.


*commercial break*


Edward: What happened after that?

Marcoh: We blew them up, of course. Duh. We're State Alchemists, not kids with slingshots.


*elsewhere*


Scar: Damn, my interlude of coolness is over, time to go.


*elsewhere*


Audience: AAARRRRGH! It's Armstrong again! PUT ON SOME CLOTHES!


*back at the playground*


Random Kid: Ow, I hurt myself! Good thing I waited until an alchemist doctor wandered by.

Marcoh: And this will give me the chance to tell you, out of the blue and for no reason, about Winry's parents.


*flash back*


Mustang: See, I'm not a total bastard after all. I almost killed myself over this. I have a past, and motives, and stuff. Fanfic authors will drive this theme into the ground.

Marcoh: Don't kill yourself. You were only following orders. Note how I expect this argument to work for you, but it doesn't free me from my own angst, even though I was just following orders when I made the Philosopher's Stone and handed it over to Gran.

Voiceover!Marcoh: After that, I took the magic rock and all documents related to it and ran. Because all the documents related to it were there in Ishbal, and not, for instance, in the Fifth Lab in Central.


*flash forward*


Edward: You don't deserve to die over that, you flake.

Marcoh: I'm not a flake.

Edward: Yes you are, I have more adult views on this than you do, and I'm fifteen. Check out how sexy I can be when I get emotional, too.

Alphonse: But Nii-san ... I'd do the same thing if anything happened to you. This is not to promote Elricest though!

Edward: Hey Marcoh, would you like to hide out in our hometown? We like to bring home strays.

Marcoh: Did you say ... Rockbell!? I must flee from that name for no reason! Okay, maybe I really am a flake.


*elsewhere*


Scar: My self-imposed holy jihad against State Alchemists leaves me with no time to update my hairstyle from the 80's.

Soldiers: We all have guns ... and they're pointed at Scar ... yet we do not pull the triggers ...

Mustang: I will, but I'll fire into the air. Hey, Scar, how about a duel?

Scar: My database tells me that you are a State Alchemist.

Mustang: A forgetful one!

Hawkeye: First lesson of being a valued sidekick: know when to blindside your commanding officer.


*nearby*


Edward: Marcoh-san! Why did you run away, you flake?

Marcoh: I have ... angst ...

Scar: Aha, just who I was hoping to run into! You stay here, Fullmetal, while I pop the cap on your friend. Nevermind, I'll do your brother first.

Edward: Dammit, people always know how to trigger my rage ... And I'm too short to actually hit him!

Scar: Thanks for just standing here while I grip your automail with my Arm O' Doom. If you'd yanked it free, I couldn't have explained how you create a circle with your hands and then blow your arm off.

Edward: Fortunately, I have learned how to be sexy when getting the crap kicked out of me.

Scar: I'm a nice guy, I'll give you time to pray.

Edward: Now would be a good time to lie and say that I need a nice looooooong prayer to prepare my soul for the afterlife ... but nahh. Instead I'll engage you in semi-friendly conversation about your brother, Ishbal, and the nature of revenge.

Scar: I'm hip to that.

Edward: This is where I demonstrate that I don't think as much of Al as I should, since I seem to think that he'd be capable of living a long and fulfilling life after watching my head get detonated.

Scar: I'm going to regret this promise not to kill your little brother later, aren't I?

Edward: Not really.

Marcoh: Here I come to the rescue!

Edward: You flake, you were supposed to run! I'm buying you time with my life here!

Marcoh: ... you never told me to run.

Scar: Dammit. Defeated by a guy who throws like a girl.

Mustang: Hah, and you thought we couldn't follow you over one single building!

Scar: Let me show you how a real man escapes into the sewers!

Hughes: Here I am, bringing my coolness with me. And I brought Armstrong, but I had mercy on the audience and put a shirt on him first.

Audience: *worships Hughes*

Edward: Hey Al, let's argue a little so I can look sexy and beaten-up some more.

Alphonse: Okay.

Sloth: I'm here to take charge of Marcoh. And to drop a hint about my identity.

Marcoh: I'll drop some information about those dead doctors too.

Mustang: This isn't a guilty look! It isn't!