FMA drabble
Sep. 5th, 2005 01:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
swordageI've been lax in my fic-writing duties lately. Hey, it happens, right? ^^; If I get some heavy-duty inspiration, I'll let you lot know. But for now, you get drabbles.
Today's drabble: Kimbley, behind bars.
He almost loses his hands to cold and lack of circulation in the first week. He learns to fold his legs and tuck his hands behind his knees, to keep them as close to his body as possible with the wooden slats holding them nearly immobile. He doesn’t mind being alone in the dark; he has no demons that taunt him, no regrets and no wants. He has only needs – food, water, warmth, alchemy. A month behind cold steel doors, and he’s a starving man, desperate for the lightning-sharp touch of power under his skin. A year of listening to the rabble go mad through bone-dry stone walls makes him desperate enough to not even yearn for the red rocks that defied all constraints. Slowly, slowly, he starves. Lack of food is enough to thin his frame, but lack of alchemy is what thins his mind. He waits, and he hungers, and he bides his time in the solitary dark without demons or regrets or wants.
Today's drabble: Kimbley, behind bars.
He almost loses his hands to cold and lack of circulation in the first week. He learns to fold his legs and tuck his hands behind his knees, to keep them as close to his body as possible with the wooden slats holding them nearly immobile. He doesn’t mind being alone in the dark; he has no demons that taunt him, no regrets and no wants. He has only needs – food, water, warmth, alchemy. A month behind cold steel doors, and he’s a starving man, desperate for the lightning-sharp touch of power under his skin. A year of listening to the rabble go mad through bone-dry stone walls makes him desperate enough to not even yearn for the red rocks that defied all constraints. Slowly, slowly, he starves. Lack of food is enough to thin his frame, but lack of alchemy is what thins his mind. He waits, and he hungers, and he bides his time in the solitary dark without demons or regrets or wants.