Pilgrim in an unholy land (open)

[rune]

The train was so loud as it chugged along, pistons pumping, steam jetting with an artificial hiss that brought chills down the spine of the tall man seated within. He hadn't paid attention to it though, even though subconsciously it gave him a disconcerted feeling to be around technology, or science, or alchemy these days. It had for so long now, he remembered years ago, the witch trials, it had made him feel empowered, made him feel like he knew some great, noble truth about the world around him, now it only made him feel empty inside.

As he looked down to the printed newspaper in his hands, he read the headline. Saying the words in his mind Full Metal Alchemist. My boys, state alchemists, following in my misbegotten footsteps. I'm sorry for this Trisha. I know what they're looking for, and I know why.. he looked over the picture of Edward and Alphonse, one of whom was in a suit of armor and the other who now had automail limbs. He wasn't sure what kind of transmutation they'd failed on, but he knew what their ultimate goal was by looking them over, it horrified him to think it. He ran a hand over the picture of the boys, his fingers running over the faces of Edward and Alphonse as if stroking them or caressing them.

I can't let them have it. God help me I can't run the risk that it would fall into her hands. If they made it. The train came to a halt and he thought of the reasons it made him so uncomfortable as he hoisted his briefcase with a big hand and walked off. Why alchemy made him so uncomfortable now, so cold and iscolated. Was it the witch trials? was it dante? corrupting her as it did, as he did? was it the fact that it'd ruined his life with Trisha and his boys? As he pushed up his glasses a bit he deposited the newspaper in a trash receptical at the train station.

He hadn't read the totality of the article, it was somewhat dated and was obviously a lie, his sons were obviously after the stone, regardless of what the paper said as a cover up. As he walked along the dirt road of the deep woods to the extravagant, sprawling abode Dante habituated he couldn't help but think of the countless times he'd thought of making this very pilgrimage. How he'd thought of confronting her, of ending the threat that she was to this world, of cleaning up the mess he'd made 400 years ago. In the end he'd always picked the higher of two roads, leaving her with a small fragment of the philosopher's stone to sustain herself for some time he'd known she'd eventually fade and die as all people were meant to do. He never thought he'd have to expedite the process.

As he stopped then, he realized the likelihood of him actually going through with this, with killing her, or even incapacitating her was unlikely. It wasn't the act in and of itself, he was more powerful and knowledgeable an alchemist than any other, so much so it didn't particularly matter how many Homunculi she'd surrounded herself with. There were other factors to consider, his weakened state, the fact that it was not his way to kill, and well, one particular Homunculi that he couldn't bring himself to face. His son. Or what used to be his son. He could see the mansion in the distance, so close, yet so far.

He turned then. It might be more prudent to help his boys in another way, at another time. Not now.That's what he told himself, thats what he wanted to believe. Deep down, he knew he was as much of a sinner, as guilty as dante, and in some ways much more. He couldn't face that. Not yet, not now. He let out a long breath.

[dante]

Dante made her way along the forested path that led to her secluded home, looking over the vernal world that surrounded her with a pleasant smile on her face. The flowers that she had missed for the past few months were once again in bloom, and the glorious scents of the forest filled the air. The rainfall from the night before had blessed the forest with vitality, filling it with life.

And she, too, would soon know the joys of renewed life.

Closing her eyes, she listened to the sound of birds humming in the distance. It was late in the afternoon, and she still had to take care of her chores around the house. Normally she would entrust them to one of her loyal sins, but since they were all preoccupied with their assignments, she had to take care of the menial tasks herself. Not only that, there were still preparations to be made for the upcoming invasion of Lior.

But all of that could wait till later. Having conquered death, she had plenty of time to spare. Pretending to reconcile with Izumi had put her in bad spirits, and a nice walk through the forest was just the thing she needed to cheer herself up. When she finally managed to forgive herself for degrading herself before her failure of a student, she would return to her clandestine undertakings.

The sound of encroaching footsteps broke the old woman from her thoughts. Strange; she rarely had any visitors in her forest. In fact, the only person who ever visited her was Sig Curtis, and that was only when he needed medicine for his ailing wife. She could tell the butcher hated her with a passion, and the feeling was certainly mutual.

Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw when she opened her eyes: Hohenheim of Light, her lover who had abandoned her those many years ago, the man she had been tracking for centuries, the man whose children she was manipulating into creating the Philosopher's Stone for her, was strolling down the path toward her. And there she was, incarnated in the body of a helpless old woman without a single homunculus around to protect her.

She straightened her posture and stood her ground, regarding Hohenheim with a powerful glare. "How very disappointing. I thought you of all people would know better than to wander right into the belly of the beast, my Hohenheim of Light."

[rune]

Hohenheim's eyes fell upon Dante and he turned on his heel so that his golden eyes could fall upon the old and haggard, squinted set she now called her own. His demeanor and look was that of a cold, serious, chilling glare that seemed to have the ability to pass through her, cutting her in twine with little real trouble and continuing into her damnable hellish abode. He didn't say anything, not right away, instead looking upon the small, frail and weak decrepit form before him, hard to beleive, impossible, that it had once been the woman he remembered all those years ago. As the memories came flooding back, the witch trials, he'd just created the philosopher's stone, and as he reached for it, falling backward, hard, he could feel himself growing cold, he could feel his life leaving his body.

It was then he felt her warm hand, as it brushed his hair back gently so, so caressing, so sure and yet so desperate and concerned, as the stone touched him, as he felt himself enter the body of another man, as that body changed to suit him.

It was astounding to Hohenheim of light, as he thought of this memory on a gloomy day, in front of someone who had, at one point in his life meant so much to him; that in fact, that memory held no warmth or feeling for him anymore. Not like the ones of Trisha, or his family. It was like they were the memories of another man, another life that was so alien to him.

He spoke then "You've forced my hand here Dante. You must've known that when you started meddling in my affairs, with my family." he couldn't help but feeling she did know that, he couldn't help but feeling like the fox caught in the trap knowing she'd be able to get him out of hiding by interfering with his family the way she was.

He took a few steps forward with a measure of confidence and an obvious ominous presence about him now as he did so. He pushed his glasses up his nose slightly then and continued "I want you to stop using my sons as pawns in your malicious game. Leave my Trisha and my boys alone." while he knew if given the chance she'd attempt small talk or even talk of old, long gone times, he was here for a reason and he needed to stick to what was important.

"Do it, and I give you my word you won't have the necessity of having your puppets, your abominations tracking and searching for me. I'll leave you to live your own life. To do with as you please. No more looking over your shoulder." he added this, unsure of what else save the stone he could offer her, surely removing himself as an enemy, and really, the only enemy capable of comprehending and stopping her plans, would be enough to come to some manner of concession between them.

[dante]

Dante could feel herself growing weak under his piercing glare, no matter how hard she tried to maintain her composure. That strong aura of his enticed her many years ago, back when she was still young and innocent, but nowadays she found it greatly disconcerting. It made him seem completely invincible, able to withstand any move she might make against him. She had the entire military under her command and a team of murderous homunculi at her disposal, but none of that seemed to matter in his powerful presence.

It made her feel so helpless. And no one made her feel helpless and got away with it, not even Hohenheim of Light.

"You must know by now that your sons are instrumental to my plans, Hohenheim," she spoke with a playful sensuality in her voice; "It would be foolish of me to surrender my most valuable pawns so late in the game." Did he seriously expected her to just leave them alone? She needed a Philosopher's Stone soon, and Edward was the best candidate to create one.

The old woman rested a boney hand on her hip, thin lips curving into an amused smirk. "And don't delude yourself into thinking you're a threat to me. You, who have been hiding in the darkness like a coward for centuries, too afraid to face the woman you so callously abandoned those many years ago. If I thought you were a danger to me, my darling, you would not be standing here today. You are hardly in a position to bargain with me."

[rune]

His tone of voice was not without it's own measure of pride as he spoke, a level of enlightenment in it's tone, As if to say I know something you don't know. However quite without the snipe or ego that would normally be attached to such a comment. Even though he was agreeing with her about previous comments she made. He spoke "It's true I have been in hiding. I thought I'd give you the chance to die with dignity, to die with your immortal soul intact like you should've, like we should've, all those years ago."

With that he affixed his glasses then, his gaze still not leaving her, in a way it was still very authoritative, his face now stone cold, as if he were the school teacher glaring at an unruly student, the father looking down at a reticent child. He continued then "But you're the one deluding yourself if you think you're in a different bed, situation, than I am." he couldn't have helped mentally scolding himself for the use of the same bed metaphor. With that he brought a hand up and flicked out two fingers in a motion as if he were throwing something at her from between them. In response the light around his hand transmutated to form a almost invisibly thin shard of glass that cut her sleeve, revealing a small bit of the decaying flesh that was her form. Like his.

"Your body decays and you don't know why. Faster even than the one before it...tell me...How long have you been in it? a few decades? less?" He took a step forward. He had always held hopes for her, it was his nature, but it seemed even the small exchange they already had proved that she was too far gone for him.

Still, he needed to try, before he pursed his lips then, before he even spoke he knew that allowing her this was a sentiment that would be unnecessary, unheeded, unsolicited and unappreciated "Dante. Forget the stone. It's a fool's errand, a wild goose chase, It won't save you from the fate we've brought down on ourselves." His voice was softer, perhaps more akin to the tone a lover would talk to his lover, perhaps the way he used to speak to her, full of concern and worry. He was appealing to her, he'd tried once before, before they parted ways, to save her from alchemy, to save her from herself. It hadn't gone well.

[dante]

"A beautiful thought, but dignity means little when you're rotting in a grave," Dante countered indifferently. The old fool was blinded by his romantic ideals, unable to grasp the fact that there was no such thing as dignity in death. After all the work she put into her pursuit of eternal life, after all the sacrifices she made to keep herself alive, it would be utterly humiliating to simply give up and consign herself to fate.

The next thing she knew, a thin piece of glass thrown by her old lover had cut through the fabric of her sleeve, revealing a patch of festering flesh beneath. She immediately covered the tear with her hand, not wanting to look at the disgusting rot that covered her elderly form. He was right; her body was decaying much faster than the one before it, which had only a few spots of rot when she decided to shed it. It was a complete mystery to her why this was happening, but she had a feeling he knew.

Clutching onto her arm, she averted her gaze to the side as he spoke to her in a tone as sweet as honey, beseeching her to give up her quest for the stone, just as he had done the night before he abandoned her and their darling little boy. Perhaps if she were still the doe-eyed young woman she was those many years ago, she would have flung herself into his arms and agreed to fade away with him; but time had claimed that innocent girl long ago, leaving behind a ruthless dictator in her place.

She returned her eyes to him then, glaring at him scornfully. "My body may be rotting faster than the previous, but it matters not; soon I will transfer myself to another body. You have damned yourself to death by allowing that harlot of yours to corrupt you, but I will not let you drag me down with you. As long as I have the means to create the Philosopher's Stone, I will use it to live on till the end of time," she told him with firm resolve, a tinge of sadness evident in her voice.

A short pause followed, and the malice slowly began to melt away from her wrinkled face. "Hohenheim," she began, her voice soft and tired; "I beg you, stop this foolishness. Just tell me you will come back to my side and I promise to forget your betrayal."

[rune]

He let out a low breath, not really a sigh per say nor a breath of frustration but of defeat. He'd obviously given up on the ideal of saving this woman from herself and from the diabolical art he'd taught and exposed her to so long ago. It was clear he'd lost it to her in the same night they lost their son, in one fell swoop. He let out a low and still soft "Don't do this Dante. Don't put me in a position where we're against eachother. You have the power to stop this, the stone, it's not a solution, it's fool's gold." he hadn't realized how close he'd actually gotten until he raised a hand and could nearly touch her without even straightening his arm.

He continued then, his voice had a renewed strength, and force to it, as if a fire within him had been lit "And that 'harlot' is my wife, who I'm still married to this day and who I have two beautiful children with." with that raising said hand so that his wedding band could be seen on the appropriate finger. Obviously intent on making the point that he loved Trisha and intended to spend the rest of his life with her, even if it meant she would watch him rot, it was a fate she'd accepted. He could remember her doing so that night, as he clasped a hand over his rotting shoulder in concern and worry, as she gently pried the hand from the wound and inspected it. As he explained, as she listened intently. He couldn't have ever hoped for a more loving and understanding woman than Trisha Elric, and he knew that well before the night she told him it didn't matter if he was dying, they should still be together. He knew that from the day they met.

Even having those feelings and that relationship, there was obviously some emotion or feeling left for Dante. If this was love or responsibility, affection or guilt on his part, who knew, but why he said it wasn't important. His voice softened again and he continued "Please listen to me Dante, alchemy isn't a quick fix, a cure all, a panacea, none of it exists. Don't waste the time you have looking. Try to find some measure of happiness in what time you have left, I promise it'll be far more rewarding." even as he spoke these words he knew they were falling on deaf ears then and he thought then of turning then and leaving her to her devices, he also knew that if he did this, he'd only end up returning sometime soon to put a stop to this all. Unlike Dante his boys had no clue on the dangers of their quest, it was why they pursued it so relentlessly. Like him, he imagined. If he knew about his wife it was possible he'd know just why they were so relentless.

[dante]

Dante sighed in disappointment when he tried once again to persuade her to stop searching for the stone. So it seemed her beloved was truly beyond saving. The two of them could go on for hours and nothing would come of it, and she had a feeling he knew that just as well as she did. She would never forsake her immortality and allow herself to die a worthless mortal, and he would never abandon his precious family and return to her side. It pained her to admit it, but it seemed they would always be against each other.

Her aged eyes narrowed into thin slits when he raised his hand to show her his faded wedding ring, effectively spitting on her offer for redemption. The nerve of the action infuriated her, but she took solace in the fact that the loving wife he thought was waiting for him in his quaint country home was nothing more than a memory. All that remained of her now was a twisted parody, an abomination that was willingly assisting her with her plans. And when she finally decided to reveal Sloth to him, he would realize just how foolish he had been this day.

Chuckling, the old woman shook her head. "Hohenheim, you rambling old fool! Are you even listening to yourself?" she forced a laugh, failing to keep her growing aggravation from manifesting in her voice. "Alchemy has brought us nothing but prosperity for the past four hundred years. If you want to pull out of the game, that's fine with me, but you aren't going to convince me to join you. You're wasting your time."

Feeling a cold breeze, she adjusted her shawl into a more comfortable position. It was getting late, and Lyra probably had supper on the table by now. "Now go, leave my forest and search for your 'happiness.' I have nothing more to say to you."

[rune]

Hohenheim's golden eyes averted from Dante to the figure moving in the house, the window behind her. A young and beautiful woman, this was her servant, Lyra, Hohenheim swallowed hard as he knew this was more than likely the next candidate for her next body switch. It was likely that the stone he'd left her all that time ago had enough power left to allow for another switch, perhaps more. He himself looked defeated and a good bit saddened as he realized that he wouldn't be able to win Dante back, help her reclaim her soul and life, the life and soul he'd taken from her in many ways.

He brought a hand to her sleeve then, touching it in a blaring blue light transmuting it to light itself, living up to his nickname in his ability to transmute light, revealing her decaying flesh. He held it then and said with a hint of venom, the strength returned to his voice, the purpose, but with a hint of defeat still "Is THIS what you call prosperity Dante? THIS!?"

After a moment it seemed as if he'd asserted himself. He released her from a strong grip and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as they teetered downward. He continued then, his voice again light, but not sweet as before "You're rotting Dante, and I'm not talking about your flesh."

He turned then from her and continued as he started to walk away "Do what you want. I no longer care. But keep my sons out of it. Do that, and you'll never have to see me again woman." He stopped then and clapped, then waved a hand over her arm, replacing the sleeve.

[dante]

Noticing that he was looking past her, Dante glanced over her shoulder and found Lyra standing behind the window, watching them curiously. The young woman blanched when she saw they were both looking at her and bowed her head nervously before hastily returning to her work. Contrary to what she had told Izumi the other night, she held absolutely no respect for her newest student. She was eager to learn and very dilligent, but she simply lacked the talent for alchemy. Not that it mattered, seeing as how the girl's life would soon be coming to an abrupt end.

Her attention snapped back him when he grabbed onto her arm, his powerful grip sending a wave of pain through the delicate limb. The sleeve then burned away, revealing her festering arm. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at the sight before raising her wrinkled eyes to him, giving him a powerful glare. "The rot is a small price to pay for eternal life, and it will be gone soon enough," she told him firmly, taking a step back.

As soon as he released her arm, she yanked it away from him and rubbed it gently. She listened as he went on about the rot, raising a brow at his cryptic statement. "What on earth do you mean by that?" she inquired. He knew something she didn't, and she was going to find out.

After he repaired her sleeve and started walking away, she followed him as fast as her aching legs could take her. "You aren't leaving this forest until you tell me what you meant!" she called after him in frustration.

(Sorry for the late post, btw. )

[Greed]

(Sorry, I had to bring Wrath in some place. Why not here. Lol. Tell me if it is okay with you, though.)

Wrath, the Homunculus with the appearance of a young boy. Shifted his form through the underbrush of the forestry.
The boy's small stature, allowed him easier passage through such. He even felt the random things he would be able to feel on his feet, on the forest floor, as he passed through it. His long black hair, became rather entangeled, as he passed through the lower leaved branched trees. However, he did not mind it. It only reminded him of how he was created. Which he cared little for.
He, after a moment or so longer of walking through the forestry, could hear conflicting voices. He heard the master's voice, arguing with a would-be Male's voice. He tried to analyse it, and after a moment, recognized it as the one Dante spoke of. Hohenheim.
He then began to run through the forest, toward the source of it.
Eventually, finding them, as Dante was chasing after the Male. He came into view, in front of the man, and turned on a heel to look at him. He then looked passed him. "Master!" He exclaimed, in a child like mannerism, running to her. He then, clinged to her arm lightly upon reaching her. Feeling the soft material of the clothing she was wearing. He shifted his near cat-like shapen optics to gaze at the man before him. "Don't hurt, master. You hurt, master. Mommy, will be sad! And if mommy sad, I will kill you!" He yelled to Hohenheim, with anger. Now getting worked up. He looked like a wild-child, the way he had barbs of branches in his hair and such. Though, he could not care less at the moment. He simply continued to glare at the man.

[dante]

(Actually, Hohenheim and I agreed to bring this thread to an end a few days ago. But Dante is officialy free now, so I was thinking about starting a new thread that Wrath can join. Sound good to you?)

[Greed]

((-Bummed by a waste of a good post.- Sure. Lol.))