swordage: Kimberly from Fullmental Alchemist, "mad bomber". (x devilsnest)
[personal profile] swordage
Alright, finally. I'm getting good at writing this crazy stuff. (And, for once, there is no love for Kimbley. This amuses me.)

Title: Cars
Series: FMA
Rating: PG for language
Ramifications: For [livejournal.com profile] pinstripesuit. I figured some humor was in order, and I hope this fits the bill. (Also, one of my ancestors really had an invention called potable gold, and it was advertised as a cure-all. It was rather a hit with the regular folk, I’m told, but respected doctors called him a crock and shut him down. It was gold leaf dissolved in something, I think; it's got all kinds of alchemical connotations, what with gold being perfection and all.)
Summary: Greed hasn't been around for the last hundred years of inventions, after all.
ETA: Fanart by [livejournal.com profile] pinstripesuit: Cars


They all stare at Greed, but Kimbley is the first to start laughing.

“You…” he stammers out, doubled over and nearly hiccoughing, “you’re afraid of automobiles! You’re fucking terrified!”

“What the flying fuck was that?” Greed demands, desperately trying to convince his shield to turn back to skin. He’s also trying to convince his glands that no, he really doesn’t need this adrenaline right now, thank you very much.

“That was a car.” Martel’s voice is bland, but she reaches out to curiously touch his shell. “What’s this?”

“Carbon.” Greed hisses softly as he finally manages to calm his nerves enough to take on a more normal appearance. “Shit. Shit. Explain what the fuck a car is.”

Kimbley isn’t helping things. “A car! An autonomous transport! Oh lord, my sides.”

“You’ve never seen a car?” Law rumbles from the back. Greed is beginning to be annoyed.

“Yes, I have never seen a fucking car. Were there people in that thing?” He’s tempted to kick Kimbley. With a shielded foot.

Dorochet tilts his head questioningly and answers carefully, “Car, trucks, and other automobiles are common transport. They’re machines that use a combustion engine to create forward momentum and are controlled by a steering wheel connected to a bunch of stuff that turns the wheels on the ground.”

“Thank you.” Greed finally feels the last of his fright drop away at the understanding. His fingertips regain sensation, and he glares at them for not having dropped the shield before.

“A car! A fucking car! Saved by a man afraid of cars!” Kimbley’s starting to outright giggle, so he gives in and kicks the man. It doesn’t make a difference, and he sighs.

“I seem,” he informs his people, “to have missed a great deal in the last hundred years.” Kimbley falls over, clutching at his sides.

“Well, um…” Martel frowns at him. “We’ll have to catch you up, then. What’s the last big invention you remember?”

“Potable gold.” At their blank looks he feels like kicking something, so he kicks Kimbley. “I guess it wasn’t really a cure-all, then.”

“Um,” Martel declares.

“I think we need a history book,” Law announces.

“We had trains and ships and horses,” Greed mutters. “Whatever happened to horses? They don’t zip down the street and nearly kill you.”

“The car was on the other side of the street,” Dorochet points out.

“Hush,” Kimbley giggles, “or he’ll get scared at the very thought of it and wet himself again!”

Greed kicks Kimbley, and when a car backfires two streets over, they have to hide Greed from passersby when he can’t convince his shield to go away.
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