((So this is what came out of my headcanon writing session. It needs work, but Im done fidgeting with it for now. Enjoy~)) Riza Hawkeye always held resentment towards the practice of alchemy, starting when she was a little girl until now. She had lost everything to alchemy in one way or another, had her life burdened with the soul-crushing weight of it. One after another the lives of all those she cared about were being claimed by its wretched and unforgiving nature. Her mother was the first to go, burned to death one night by flame alchemy that had gone awry. She had only been three years old at the time, but to this day she could still hear the blood curdling scream that had ripped its way through her mothers throat on that sorrowful night. Next came her father. All she could do was watch as he slowly deteriorated and became more insane as time passed. She grew to fear him, developed such a strained relationship with him that she no longer considered him to be her father. That wasnt him anymore. Flame alchemy had claimed him for its own devilish purposes. The final act of whatever had possessed Berthold Hawkeye was one she could never forgive, nor forget. It had dared to make her bare her fathers burden, tattooing the very same Transmutation Circle that had killed her mother onto Rizas back. The very thing she hated was now permanently a part of her being, never to be removed. Why had she let such an atrocity happen? Perhaps it was out of fear of what would happen to her if she didnt comply. Or perhaps it was her last act of compassion towards the sad excuse of a man that was left of her father. Either way she had allowed it to happen, and because of that one stupid decision she made had yet another bad choice. She allowed him to know the secrets of flame alchemy. Roy Mustang, the outsider who she had grown so very close to through his apprenticeship with her father. Every time she heard the snap of his fingers, and saw the carnage that followed, she would always think back to that day at the cemetery. How she could have kept it secret. How she could have stopped all the bloodshed that ensued during the Ishval Civil War. It was all her fault, she had allowed this to happen. She was to blame. She was the one who had destroyed the Colonels life, caused him to suffer through so much. And yet she still had the nerve to ask him to burn it off of her. All of this suffering, and all of this death, caused by that accursed alchemy. Who knew that something such as an art of reconstructing -something that was meant to follow the principle of equivalent exchange- could be so destructive and so unfair? She knew that concept all too well. Losing everything and receiving nothing in return. Equivalent exchange, was a humorous notion.
Posted on: Wed, 22 Jan 2014 05:57:16 +0000
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