Bound by Blood

[amouri]

Okies, this is a fic I thought up a while ago, describing what really happened to Barry and Slicer, and that they were not alone.
---
Barry smirked, gazing down at his cuffed hands in the dingy cell they had placed him in.
It had now been three weeks since they had caught him, since that measly alchemist runt had somehow escaped him.
They had sentenced him to execution, after he had willingly confessed his actions.
He knew there was no way back.
He sighed and leaned back, the scruffy prison clothes made his skin tingle with irritation.
He twisted around with a snarl, trying to scratch his back, but the heavy board they had sealed around his hands made such an action impossible.
He heard the heavy snores of number 48 in the cell across the hall.
Then he heard the faint thud and the muffled cry of indignation as the younger Slicer brother silenced the irritating noise.
Number 49 growled in irritation,
"Shut up big brother, I was trying to sleep!"
"So was i, before you woke me in such a rude manner!"
"You call that sleeping? You sounded like a foghorn."
"Well at least I don't TALK in my sleep, the stuff you say at night makes me wonder if youre as single as you claim."
Thud.
"Alright, settle down you two, you'll have enough action to last you a lifetime tommorrow."
Came the amused voice of the guard.
The hall was immediately filled with a pressing silence. Tomorrow was execution day, and everyone knew it. The guards knew, and to the prisoners immense irritation the guards did nothing to calm their fear.
They only joked about it, as though the lives of murderers meant nothing to them. Well, not that they did anyway.

He grunted, and shifted into a more comfortable position on the rough wooden bench with the filthy blanket on it. He didn't feel like sleeping, even though he would probably never sleep again after tomorrow.
He grinned, and whistled a small tune that gradually turned into a song.
"...I know a song that will get on their nerves, get on their nerves, get on their nerves,I know a song that will get on their nerves, and this is how it goes..." His voice slowly increased in volume, until he was almost shouting it out.
Immediately a chorus of angry voices sounded from the various cells around him.
"-Will you BE QUIET!-"
"-I'm gonna wring his skinny neck-"
"-Isn't it enough that the stupid guards have to-"
"-If my hands were free I'd blow you to smithereens-!"
"-Sixty-six, I'm gonna count to three, and if you haven't-"
"-I'm gonna break down the door!-"
"ALRIGHT SHUT UP!!! Sixty-six, I'll chuck you in the isolation cell if you don't keep quiet."
Barry sniggered, but willingly stopped singing. The surrounding prisoners slowly quieted down, most of them trying to get some sleep before sunrise.
Of course it was not all of them who was to be executed, a few only had to stay for a lifetime in prison.
But not Barry.

He closed his eyes and breathed slowly in and out, an almost peaceful look on his face.
Tomorrow it would all be over.
But strangely enough, he wasnt scared. He just felt oddly relaxed, the news having seeped in hours before.
He also felt slightly proud at having got this far, and that they would remember his name with fear and possibly also disgust for many years after he was gone.
It didn't really matter to him though, because his thoughts had slowly shifted onto something else.
His wife.

He opened the back door, shivering slightly from the cold outside, his breath coming out in a faint mist.
"Hello? Honey, I'm home!"
He paused, waiting for a response. Nothing.
"Hey, Nellie, ya there?" He called out while taking off his blood-smeared apron, hanging it on a peg beside the door.
He waited anxiously for a reply, but when it didn't come he walked across the hall, and opened the door to the kitchen.
His heart sank as he saw the sight before him.
The kitchen was a mess, scraps of food were piled on the surfaces, and the door to the cooling room was carelessly flung open.
Several empty bottles were lying on the floor, one of them in pieces.
He sighed and shook his head.
He then went into the cooling room, were he heard a low snoring coming from his worktable.
"Geez Nellie, why do you always have to do this..." He whispered as he looked at his snoozing wife, who was sitting slumped on a chair.
He gently shook her, trying to rouse her from her drunken stupor.
"Wazzgoingon?" She mumbled thickly and jerked her head up, so her wavy brown hair swung foreward and concealed her face.
"Nellie, its me, I've just come home. Why are you in the cooler room?"
"Whuz to hot...needed to cool off..."
She nearly nodded off again, but he shook her shoulder gently once more.
"Nellie, have you been drinking again?"
"Noes me havent been drinking nuthin." She said quickly, fixing him with a beady stare.
"Nellie...You know you shouldent, its not good for you! Remember last time you got sick because of that disgusting stuff? Wasnt that enough to keep you away from the bottle?"
He sighed in exasperation.
She stared down into the stone floor, not answering.
"Come on, you gotta sleep that off. I'll have some food ready if you get hungry-"
"Piss off. Or hang on, piss off and get me a fag. I need it."
Barry stopped and looked at her sadly.
"Nellie, I'm not letting you do this again, I thought we had come to an agreement that you would stop smoking! Heck, now that i think of it, you also said you would stop drinking! What changed Nellie? What happened that made you so unreliable?"
He stopped and gazed at her, affection clear in his eyes.
"Why are ya still here? Are you gonna get that fag or what?"
He looked at her incrediously. "Nellie!"
His voice was starting to rise in anger.
Suddenly she raised her hand, and slapped him hard around the face.
He stood doumbfounded, struck dumb by her action.
"I'm bloody well not gonna listen to you anymore ya sick bastard! Day in and day out, always so happy about youre job, never displeased as long as you can spend all your time with animal carcasses!I've had enough i tell you, and i don't care about your feelings anymore, so if you want me to stay happy for your sake, I'm not buying it! Go and find some other bitch that 'respects youre feelings' if thats what you want! You always reckon everythings fine, while our money is wasting away and you do nothing to improove our situation! Anytime you wanted you could have gotten another job, that would settle our financial problems, but noooo you were blind, thought it was going well!"
She finished off her outburst with an angry hiccup, glaring at him with misty eyes.
The shock of everything she had just said kept him silent for some time, but he somehow regained his gift of speech and managed to choke "But Nellie, why didn't you tell me? If you were that displeased i could have-"
Her eyes flashed furiosly and she grabbed a bottle lying on the floor, and swung it at him.
It hit the side of his head with a heavy crunch, and small lights popped before his eyes as he swayed dizzily.
"You IDIOT!!DIDN'T I JUST SAY THAT I DON'T CARE?! Your nothing but a BASTARD!!"
Suddenly the rage was just to much.
He stared at her, eyes unblinking,a tortured grimace spreading on his face,dimly registering her gazing at him in disbelief and fear.
And then he ended it all, with one single fluid motion.
He swung his knife.

Barry gasped, the memory of what he had done standing clear in his head.
It had just been to much...he had tried to escape, tried to end it...
He had killed his wife.

A choked scream, a thud, and a throaty gurgle.
Then silence.
He stood there, whole body trembling, bloody knife still in hand, gazing down at his wife in horror. What had he done?
His shoulders shook, as a mad mixture of grief and guilt coursed through his body, causing pained tears to well up in his eyes.
But then the feeling changed, slowly the grief was exchanged with resentment, the guilt with bitternes. He slowly lifted his knife, gazing at his reflection in the shining steel, and the glistening blood. This was who he was.
A strange smile slowly appeared on his face, but as he looked down at his wife,
the grief struck again.
The knife fell to the floor with a clatter, as he dropped to his knees and sobbed heavily,
the pool of blood seeping into his trousers.

Barry stared at the grimy prison floor.
That had been a year ago, and a lot had changed. But the feeling he had felt then, would never change for as long as he lived.
Which was not long.
"Hey, get up ya skinny git. Its time." He glanced up, and saw a beefy guard glare at him with his piggy eyes.
He smiled sadly, and got up with a sigh.
Maybe at last his pain would end.

[silverviper2134]

Damn, how the hell am I gonna compete with this. *Takes out Chaos Emeralds* Some to die, Saka....can you dig it? WTF am I smoking?

[amouri]

._. I take it thats a positive reply? xD whatever. I'm no trying to compete with you, no wai.
=D just chill, right?
Of course, you will still be my rolemodel for always >.> *bows humbly*
Heres the next part!

[amouri]

"No need to shove." He hissed as the guards roughly pushed him onward.
So this was it. He was gonna die. Big deal.
He suddenly noticed that instead of leading him to the execution grounds, they were instead taking him down a narrow passageway, with other passages leading different ways.
Like a labyrinth...
He stopped in shock, as several other prisoners suddenly appeared beside him, also flanked by guards.
"Keep on moving ya idiot." Growled one of the guards and hit him in the back of the head.
He cast an inquiring glance at the prisoners. There was number 50, the head of the Gutting Girls, and the ratty number 25, and number 48 and 48, who were looking completely bewildered.
He jerked his head in a non-committable way, to show them that he didn't now what was going on either.
But he had a feeling that whatever it was, It sure was not going to be anything positive.

Slowly, more and more prisoners joined them, and the guards got more and more restless, startling and shouting angrily whenever the prisoners made a noise.
Suddenly, a loud bang echoed through the ranks, and everybody stiffened and mumbled in fright.
A nervous guard had accidentally shot number 74, who was lying on the ground twitching in a pool of blood.
"A-alright, keep moving, and l-let that be a warning to ya!" The pale guard managed to utter.
All thoughts of escape had vanished the moment the gun had sounded.
They went on.
They were ushered into a large room, that was glowing with an oddly violet light.
When all the prisoners were in the room, the guards quickly exited and closed the heavy door after them.
There was a few moments of awkward silence, wherein everyone wondered what was going to happen to them.
Barry knew that it was pretty obvious at that point, that they were not going to be executed.
At least not in the normal manner, anyway.

Suddenly a high voice spoke up.
"What are you in here for?"
He looked down and saw to his surprise a young boy, of about eleven years old.
"What are you doing here kid?"
"I killed my auntie." The child said in an innocent tone.
Barry quirked an eyebrow.
"Well, she wasn't my real auntie. She was me and my sisters guardian. Our father was sent to prison last year you see."
"Okaay? Why'd you kill her?"
"She hit my sister and made her cry. I tried to stop her otherwise, but she just wouldn't. So i grabbed a pan and hit her in the head with it."
There was a small silence as Barry digested that piece of information.
"You killed you aunt with a FRYING PAN?!" He managed to choke, trembling with laughter.
"Way to go kid! I should try that next ti-oh, hang on, i forgot."
He didn't say it, but he could tell that the kid knew what he was thinking.
"Ok, so what i don't get is how a kid like you was sent to jail. AND set up for execution. Ain't there a law on that?"
He said quickly to change the subject.
The kid shrugged and said
"I dunno. I guess nobody cared at the time. And I'm an Ishbalan, so that probably also meant something," the boy added and lifted up his long shaggy bangs of black hair, so his crimson eyes were visible.
"They reckoned they'd better get rid of me while i was young, instead of waiting for me to cause trouble when i was older."
Barry noticed that the other prisoners had loosened up too, and were all telling the stories of their life.
"So, as i was asking, what are you in for?"
He looked down at the kid, and noticed a hint of concealed fear in his eyes.
Barry smiled sadly, and whispered "Its ok kid. I'm scared too."
Then he kneeled down so he was at eye level with the young boy, and started to talk.
"It all began with my wife..."

As the hours passed on, every prisoner told their story to one another, so in the end it seemed as though they had known each other for years.
Some of the more experienced had suggested that the light could be some alchemical after-effect,
and that did nothing to soothe their fear.
Suddenly, the room lit up with a crimson flash of light, and everybody shouted out in surprise and bewilderment.
Barry felt his muscles clench up for an inexplicable reason, and suddenly he realized that the alchemy-for he realized now that that was what it was-was somehow keeping him paralyzed.
He reeled over, stiff as a board, and hit the grimy floor with a dull thud.
He couldn't breathe, his lungs refused to function, and he felt lightheaded from the lack of oxygen.
He dimly heard the door open, and felt somebody grab hold of him and drag him to wards it.
He got a clear view of his fellow prisoners, and noticed that they seemed to be in the same condition as he was.
He nearly lost consciousness, as he was dragged out of the room, faintly wondering,
What the hell is going on?

[silverviper2134]

Yeah, that was a positive remark. I'm just a very jealous person----my Simself once lost a game of darts to someone and walked around wishing to see that person as a ghost for like three weeks.

[masterwarlord]

This is really great stuff here. It's nice that you're actually implementing this into the main story of FMA, what with this being just before Barry becomes the suit of armor. Seeing Barry do the first incident where he chopped up his wife was also interesting. This is really quality stuff, and seeing Slicer and Kimblee cameo only makes it all the better. I'll read any future chapters and anticipate them.

[amouri]

LOL tankyee very much.
And just so you know, just because Barry may be kinda upset that he killed his wife, doesn't mean that he ain't a murderer.
He doesn't give a shit (pardon my french) about anybody else, unless he has a very good reason to. dack I dunno, I may still be screwing up his original personality despite that though xD
New chap is coming up nao.
Its kinda morbid, and a little too long too Dx ah, never mind.

[amouri]

The paralyzing effect wore off slightly as he was removed from the full power of the alchemical reaction.
But it was still powerful enough to keep him from moving.
But at least it was possible to breathe now, and that was all that mattered.
Whats going on? He thought again, panic rising in him as he, and from what he could hear, most of the prisoners were dragged across the room, which he noticed was covered in various shapes of alchemical arrays.
He was dumped unceremoniously beside something big, but he couldn't turn his head to see what it was, seeing as the alchemy was still binding him.
His head was squished into an awkward position near the stone floor, and he noticed to his horror that he was directly in the middle of one of the many circles.
They're going to do experiments on us! He thought wildly.
That would explain it, and after all, condemned prisoners were probably the optional choice, nobody would wonder what had happened to them.
They would just be glad to have been rid of them.

The person who had dragged him out shifted slightly, so Barry got a chance to see what was going on with the rest of the prisoners.
He noticed that not all of them had been taken out of the room with the violet light, and his suspicion was confirmed as one of the scientist guys glanced into the room, and shook his head saying "Thats all I'm afraid. You guys didn't get them out fast enough, most of them are dead. Be more careful next time, its not like they grow on trees."
There was an irritated grumbling from the rest of the alchemists, who got back to work on each of their individual prisoner.
The person that had taken Barry was fiddling with the big thing that he had sensed, a strange clanking sound coming from it. Barry found that the paralysis was slowly wearing off, and he could twist slightly, though it cost him great effort.

He now had an unobstructed view of the other prisoners, they seemed all to be under the same body binding effect, but some of them, like Barry, were slowly beginning to regain their sense of movement.
He noticed to his surprise that every single one of them had been placed beside a different set of-
Armour?!
It dawned on him that that was probably what the mysterious object behind him was.
But why he had been dragged into a transmutation circle with a suit of armour, beat him entirely.
He noticed that most of the scientists were taking out small glass vials of some red liquid, and were drawing new symbols on the faded circles.
Suddenly, he heard a commanding voice sound from somewhere to his left.
"All right, in a few minutes you will start your transmutations. Rely entirely on the Red Water for your exchange, unless you wish to harm yourself in ways you cannot comprehend. If your specimen seems to be failing, move out of harms reach as quickly as possible, or else you put yourself at dangerous risk. You may start your transmutations...Now."

Wait-WHAT?!
Barry frantically wriggled in an attempt to get free, as he desperately tried to say something.
But his jaw was so stiff, that all he managed was:
"...ait-ang on!! 'ou can' jus-"
But then the alchemist slammed his hands onto the circle.
Barry panicked as a bright blue light suddenly lit up around him, blinding him.
He heard the crackle of the energy and the startled shouts from his fellow prisoners.
What the heck-he thought, but then his thoughts were interrupted.
By the pain.
A sudden searing pain, coursing through his whole body, causing him to twist and scream in agony.
He was splitting apart, it was ripping him to shreds...
He yelled and yelled and yelled, until he thought his throat had been ripped open.
The pain was too much-he couldn't see, couldn't hear- everything was obliterated by the veil of suffering that was numbing his senses.
And then as suddenly as it began-it was gone. He noticed to his shock that he no longer could sense himself, all he could see was a strange slab of rock-
And then darkness.

He groaned weakly, regaining his consciousness.
Wh-what happened?
He thought groggily and tried instinctively to sit up.
Nothing happened.
He noticed to his surprise that he could not locate his arms- or any of his limbs in fact.
What the-how-?!
He opened his eyes, but instead of seeing the silhouette of his eyelid slide up, his vision just suddenly began to function, though everything was blurry and hazy.
Strange images and thoughts were swirling in his head, memories he could not remember seemed to be in the wrong places, seemed to have happened at the wrong time. Something was wrong.
He slowly collected his thoughts, trying to piece them together in a recognizable pattern.
Hang on-uncle Brian, that was years ago. Moving out-that too. How come my first teddy bear is after that? No, that isn't right. And the killing of Mrs. Deindernicher was AFTER that knife broke, not before...Ok, prison food. Now its starting to make sense. 48 snoring, execution day-
He stopped abruptly. Execution. There it was. The circle, the pain-the darkness.
What had they done to him?
He tried feebly to sit up again, but all he managed was to twitch slightly. He heard a loud rustle as soon as he stopped.
This doesn't make sense... he thought exasperated.
He noticed his sense of hearing was slowly reminding him of some large noise that was going on.
He remained motionless until his vision had improved somewhat.
The sight that met him made him gasp in shock.

The many sets of armour that the prisoners had been placed beside were all moving, twitching and trembling, while groans and screams of agony could be heard from their various helmets and heads.
He suddenly realized to his horror, that he could recognize the voices.
It was the voices of the prisoners. Somehow-they had become the suits, and a feeling of dread crept over him as he began to wonder why he couldn't feel anything.
The answer was simple.
His body was no longer of flesh and blood, but of the armour that he had been bound to.
This kept him motionless in shock for another few moments, in which he stared at his fellow prisoners.

Some of them were also looking around, too shocked to say anything, or just unable of human speech. He noticed that where their eyes had been, there were now shining orbs of light, and he wondered if that was also what his eyes looked like.
He also noticed to his revulsion that not all of them seemed to have been connected to the armour successfully. Many were twitching feebly, while their original bodies still seemed to hold a little life. They were suspended between armour and body, the orbs of their eyes flickering like candles as the lights were extinguished one after one.
He shifted slightly, still unable to move properly.
It seemed as though his limbs just wouldn't obey him, and he wondered fearfully if he would ever be able to move again.

Suddenly, the same voice that had ordered the transmutation to begin, called out "In a few minutes, you will immediately leave your specimens and stay out of reach. We will then sort them, and further adjustments will be made. I repeat, at my signal you will LEAVE your specimens, and remove yourselves from the circles."
This caused some commotion, as the alchemists hustled about.
Not all of them seemed to have escaped harm, two of them had been gutted by a heavy armour composed nearly entirely of chain mail, which they had underestimated.
It had had two wicked blades curved from under the arms, and had killed the two scientists in its struggle for movement. It had become motionless not long after though, and as he glanced at it he noticed the limp body beside it and recognized it as being number 67, and then a thought suddenly occurred to him.
He glanced down slowly, and gazed curiously at what had once been his body.
It was limp and devoid of life, except for the occasional twitching as the nerves slowly shut down. Thin tendrils of alchemical energy were still flickering around it.
Thats...me?

Suddenly the alchemists all dropped what they were holding and briskly exited the various circles.
He noticed that two of them had been especially unlucky, one by mistake blending the prisoner with his armour instead of binding him to it, and the other had bound himself to the armour, instead of the highly surprised prisoner that was still gazing perplexed at the armored alchemist which was now shuddering with shock at what he had done.
As the last alchemists left, two of them helping the sobbing armored one to his feet, Barry shuddered violently as he managed to push himself up on his hands and knees, and looked up warily.
In front of him was a tall, dark haired man, with a jagged scar running down one side his brown face. He smirked coldly, and addressed the surviving prisoners in a bored voice:
"Good day. I am Abel Tlacka, and the one responsible for your current situation."

[masterwarlord]

Another great chapter, Barry. Easily among the best FMA fics I’ve read (So far, of course.). Sorry for taking so long to reply, but I’m still watching this and eagerly awaiting more. You got pretty creative with all the various monstrosities that came out of the process like an armored alchemist and captured the feel of the situation quite well too.

[amouri]

XD thanks! I'm still figuring out the chapters to come in my head ^^ so hopefully its gonna be a long one XP

[amouri]

Barry narrowed his eyes dangerously. So this was the guy in charge?
He felt the fury slowly building up inside him, and his gaze never left the man as the mentioned person turned to the alchemists, which were waiting at the other end of the room.
"You have done a good job men. We will now proceed to-"
Suddenly he was interrupted by a furious bellow, which was followed by a loud clanging noise, and Barry watched in surprise as one of the prisoners charged at the man.
How on earth did he get to his feet so quickly?!
Tlacka must have been thinking the same, for he was rigid with shock as the furious suit of armour came crashing through the piles of his fellow prisoners.
But just as the convict reached him, a loud hissing could suddenly be heard, and Barry watched in amazement as what looked like a serpent composed entirely of metal snaked up Tlackas body and launched itself into the air, landing coiled around the prisoners neck just as the dark-skinned man regained his senses.

The prisoner gave a strangled cry of shock as the snake opened its mouth with an audible 'clack' revealing transparent fangs the length of a mans finger. With a hiss of rage the peculiar creature struck, and Barry was surprised as its fangs seemed to simply dissolve the metal around them, sinking into the shoulder-plate of the armour. The convict shuddered violently, as the glowing orbs of his eyes expanded so they seemed to fill his visor completely.
Then he fell to the floor with a crash, helmet coming off and rolling loudly on the floor.
The snake closed its mouth, and eyed the motionless armour which was now completely devoid of life. With a satisfied flick and rustle of its tail, the serpent slinked across the floor towards its master.
Barry was amazed at how it moved. The many individual plates on its belly seemed to move of own accord, causing a rippling clinking motion that basically 'sailed' the snake across the ground.

His limbs trembled slightly, nearly giving way under him. With a pained groan, he somehow pushed himself up into a crouching position, though unwillingly gaining the snake's attention.
It whipped its head around, staring at him with poisonous green glowing orbs, and he nearly toppled backwards in shock as a low venomous voice sounded from it.
"You'd better not try anything human. You saw how easily I can sever the link of your pathetic lives."
The voice was obviously female, and it did not open its mouth at all as it spoke.

Tlacka smirked fondly at the snake, affection obvious in his gaze as she wound herself around him, climbing to rest at his shoulder.
He turned his gaze to the dumbstruck prisoners, and cleared his throat.
"You have been bound to the armours by means of a complicated alchemical procedure, though I am sorry to learn that in most cases it was not entirely successful."
His cold gray eyes wandered over the prisoners, particularly the ones who could barely move, and those which held no life.
"The only thing keeping you in this world, is an alchemical array drawn with blood, which design is unique for each one of you. If this 'blood-rune' is destroyed, or otherwise harmed in any way, you may find yourselves in a particularly difficult situation, so I suggest you keep it out of harm. At least, those which are still alive after the sorting."
He clapped his hands briskly and announced loudly.
"Now, all of you which are capable of movement, will you please walk-or crawl if necessary-out of the circles which were used to sever the bond which your soul held to your human bodies. Those which can't-will be dealt with later."
He paused as the snake resting on his shoulder edged her head closer to his ear, and he listened intently.
"Ah yes. If any of you attempt anything-that is, run away, try to gain revenge, or try to help those which are incapable of movement-Nalea here will deal with you in the same way as she dealt with our friend here..." He gestured lightly at the motionless suit lying at his feet. "...Is that understood?"

There was a strained silence, as the various prisoners either hesitated, or dealt with their panic in silence.
Then a loud scraping could be heard, and a massive Armour, one of the biggest in the lot, dragged itself forward on its peculiar arms.
Instead of hands, it had two artistically formed clubs, which had small knobs and lumps of metal molded into the finished piece. Barry wondered how powerful they must be in battle, but then all thought was washed away as he struggled to get to his feet.
His limbs seemed terribly stiff, and he nearly tottered over as he took the first halting steps.
He could hear the various clanking and scraping around him, as the others tried desperately to move.
At last he somehow stumbled out of the circles, and staggered over to the opposite wall, which he hit with a loud clang.
He slid to the floor, confused that even though it had taken him so much effort, no sign of fatigue had begun to show.
Only three others had been able to reach the wall.
There was the massive suit with the clubs, the one who had first started moving, a prisoner in a suit which reminded him slightly of what a warrior princess maybe wore, and a small shivering lump which seemed to have been built for a child.
Talc narrowed his eyes in disappointment.
"It seems I overestimated the rate of success. What a shame. All right, the rest of you-"
"WAIT!"
Tlacka paused at the strangled outburst, and some of the other alchemist gasped in surprise as another armour, partly buried by his fallen companions, somehow heaved the groaning mass of metal aside, so it was possible for him to stand up.
"Wait-we can still fight!"
Came the shaken voice again.
Tlacka's eyes widened in surprise.
"Well I'll be fooled-"
He turned to a young alchemist which was standing directly behind him.
"Good work young Sein! It seems your experiment was a success! I congratulate you, this is probably the most successive soul binding in our time! Of course apart from Nalea here," He added fondly and stroked the snake. "As my own creation, I doubt anybody else has made a more perfect example than her. But you got pretty close I must say my boy!"
The young alchemist looked lightly confused at all this praise, but nonetheless grateful.

"Good good, well you two! If you can still fight as you claim, come over here and we'll get onto sorting you out."
Barry narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
You two? Whats that supposed to mean?
His question was immediately answered, as the armour muttered quietly
"Thanks for assisting me brother. Are you unharmed?"
Another voice, coming from around his chest, spoke out
"No problem. I...I'm not quite sure. This could take some getting used to."
Barry realized to his shock, that it was the Slicer brothers he was hearing.
They've both been bound to the same suit!
He thought incredulously.
As the two, which were now one, staggered across the floor to wards the wall, Tlacka's attention shifted onto the two alchemists which were supporting the unlucky one, which had accidentally missed the prisoner in target, and bound himself to the armour instead.
"What, may I ask, are you two doing?"
They stared at him uneasily.
"Erm...We're helping Josh. He bound himself by a mistake."
"Don't tell me you two are going to sneak him out! Get him over here."
"W-what sir?"
"You honestly believe he will be able to lead a normal life after this? A living suit of armour? And how do you think his family would react?"
The alchemists had no answer to this.
"You realize that what is going on in this lab, is strictly confidential? If any of this got out, disaster would follow. Send a message to his family, say he got killed by a chimera or something. Oh, and talking of chimeras..."
He turned to another alchemist.
"I noticed your specimen didn't turn out as well, but nonetheless it shows you have some talent in blending things. Why, if the armour had been of biological origin, I'm sure your prisoner would have survived. So I'm moving you on to creating chimeras."
"Y-yes Sir."
The armored alchemist was rigid with shock, as they dragged him away.
"Now, lets proceed to getting the successful ones out of the way."
Immediately he clapped his hands, and placed them on the floor.
A startled yelp escaped Barry as thin tendrils of material came from the floor, wrapping itself around him and settling into the form of a thick chain.
He and the other successful prisoners could do nothing but struggle against the bonds, as they were dragged away from the room.

"Now Nalea, please get rid of these causalities." Came the cold voice of Abel Tlacka, and the remaining prisoner's screams followed Barry down the hall.

[masterwarlord]

The goodness just keeps coming from you, Barry. Another fine chapter. You do a great job of showing just how sadistic and scary the whole process is through the eyes of all the victims. I liked the characters of Tlacka and Nalea as well, and it's a pretty hard task to get me to like OCs.

Will Lust, Gluttony, and Envy eventually show up?

[amouri]

Thanks ^^ Some new oc's will be coming up, so I'll rack my brain to make them likeable
Yes, Lust and Envy will eventually turn up, but I'm not sure about Gluttony, since Barry only mentions meeting the other two. He could just be lying of course, so I'll try and fit Glut in ^^

[amouri]

"OI!! Let me go you pea-brained alchemist!" came the furious voice of Barry. The other's struggled in silence, the smallest one hardly struggling at all.
They were dragged past various cages and cells, some holding animals, other humans.
Others still, holding both...
They reached a heavy iron door, with a large gap at the top.
The alchemists somehow heaved the heavy door open, and lugged the prisoners in.
They hastily exited, slamming the door behind them and bolting it.
Barry struggled, cursing under his breath.
"Dog-headed shit-brained cowardly scum...HA!"
He broke the chain with a triumphant roar, and staggered over to the door.
"HEY!! You get your fat asses over here!" He yelled, pounding on the door with his fists.

"And you can drag your stinkin' boss over here, so I can tell him what a cheap, lying, no-good, rotten for-fleshing lowlife snaking licking, dirt-eating, inbred overstuffed ignorant bloodsucking dog-kissing brainless dickless hopeless fatass bug-eyed stiff-legged fatty lip, wormheaded sack of monkey shit he is!!! If I had my cleaver I'd slice him to bits, I'd chop him up so good that his own mother would not be able to recognize him!"
He kicked the door angrily, fuming with all the rage held inside.

"Woah. Impressive, but you mind calming down? You're freaking the kid."
Came a dry voice from behind him.
He turned, and glared angrily at the obviously female prisoner.
She had by chance been bound to a suit that fitted her gender, a thing that looked as though it had been shaped for a queen. It was as elegant as a suit of armour could be, shaped so that it would naturally follow the curves of whichever female it was made for, the helmet having a pair of wings artistically shaped backwards.
A dirty silk cloth concealed the lowest part of the helmet, emphasizing the cold glow of the orbs of her eyes.
A skirt formed of very fine chain was wound around her waist, rippling like fabric.
He noticed she too had broken her chains, and glanced down at the huddled figure at her feet.
"Oh...sorry."
He sighed and gazed at the small suit.
Kid? Must be that Ishbalan child...
The boy was staring at the floor, trembling slightly.
Barry sighed again and leaned against the wall, sliding down it with a rustle.
A silence followed, occasionally interrupted as the others broke the bonds holding them.
The Slicer brothers had been bound to a thing that resembled something fit for an ancient samurai warrior, a thing that he found fitted them well.
The massive suit with the clubs was gazing at them, having not said a sound. It was completely devoid of any detail, except for the clubs, which had artistic engravings on them.
The armored alchemist was huddled in a corner, holding his head in his hands.
His armour was composed alternatively of chain and overlapping plates, which held a strong resemblance to the scales of a fish. His helmet was rather open, the nose-guard shaped like a cross, a large feather plume sticking out at the back.
The young Ishbalan's suit was hardly composed of metal at all, except for his helmet which was shaped in the likeliness of a dragon's head. The rest of his armour was thick black leather, and Barry suspected that it was a thing built for a young assassin, figuring that the leather would hardly make any noise.

He wondered what he himself looked like, and cautiously reached up to feel his head.
Then he remembered that he no longer could feel.
He gave an irritated growl.
Well, I've got to know how I look like...
He sighed and reached up, taking his head off with a clack.
As he took it off, he noticed to his amusement that he could switch the points of his perception, so he could either continue looking out from his head, or he could switch it so his vision was coming from somewhere in the air above his neck.
It puzzled him slightly how that could be possible, but he decided not to think more of it as he gazed at his head.
It was a skull-of some kind of animal that he couldn't identify. Or at least, the front half of it was. The back of it was composed of steel, cunningly blended with the bone by means that he suspected was alchemy.
A pair of-horns? Maybe ears?-were formed on top, and a ragged mane of some kind of fur stuck out at the back.
"Nice..." He muttered, running a finger over the sharp fangs.
He stopped, and noticed that his hands were not entirely human, but more like leather gloves of some sort, shaped nearly in the same way as a child's mittens.
He noticed to his irritation that he only had three fingers on each hand.

"Look, I can understand your primitive intelligence is probably amazed at the physique of your body, but it is making me slightly unwell seeing you holding your head like that. Would you be so kind as to replace you head to its original position?"
Came a cold sneer.
Barry angrily stuffed his head back in place, glaring at the alchemist which seemed t have regained his posture.
"Shut it. You don't know who you're dealing with."
A strained sigh issued from the female prisoner.
"Easy you two. Fifty-three, I don't like this alchemist any more than you do, but-"
"Fifty-three? What the hell are you talking about?! I'm sixty-six!"
Barry stared at her incredulously.
"Did you honestly think I was that buffoon?"
"Well...you look like him..."
"AW COME ON!!! How could I look like him? How can any of us look like anyone? We're bloody tin cans, theres nobody who looks like us!"
"You swear like him."
She added matter-of-factly.
"How does that change anything?" He snapped.
"Calm down, I know you are sixty-six."
Came the deep voice of forty-eight.
"Nobody else who would pursue such a stupid subject anyway."
The voice of the youngest Slicer added.
The female prisoner sighed and shrugged indifferently.
Barry fumed in silence.

Suddenly, footsteps could be heard from outside the door.
They all stiffened, listening intently.
As the footsteps halted at the door, Barry balled his hands into fists, awaiting further movement.
The door was heaved open, and an old man with black and gray hair stood in the door way, huffing with the effort.
Barry let out a furious yell, and charged at the man, grabbing him by the neck and preparing to snap it like a stick.
Then he stiffened as a low hissing sounded, and he heard the familiar clinking sound, as the metal snake whipped around him and rested the snout of her open mouth on the small of his back.
"Try anything-and I'll snuff out your life as easily as I could blow out a candle."
She sneered.
He hesitated, answering with a retort "Not very easily then, seeing as you can't breathe."
He growled, eyes shifting from the fearful old mans face, to the tip of the snakes tail that he could faintly see curled around the tip of his boot.
He heard her hiss angrily.
"You know what I mean, prisoner." She whispered.
He hesitated again for a moment, and then loosened his grip on the old mans throat.
The snake immediately lashed out with her tail, striking him in the chest with enough force to fling him backwards.
He hit the wall with a crash, though surprised that no feeling of pain came.

"All-allright. Calm down now," The old man stuttered. "I am here to register you. My name is Dr. Marcho." He glanced down at the snake, which blinked at him. "Proceed." She said.
He sighed and went over to Barry. "OK, first of all, what cell number did you have?"
"Sixty-six." Muttered Barry, all the time glaring at the snake.
"Very well, I will brand the number into your helmet, so you can be recognized. Do not be alarmed, you will feel no pain."
Barry had to control himself from trying to throttle the man again, as Marcho took a piece of chalk out of his pocket and traced something on the metal part of his helmet.
A sudden flash of light caused Barry to jerk backwards with a startled yelp, but it went over quickly.
"There. And how about you...?" The doctor moved on to the female prisoner, and Barry cautiously took off his head again. A small number, '66' had been branded into the metal. Thin tendrils of energy was still fizzling slightly.
Alchemy...how I hate it.
He thought bitterly.
"Yes...I'm 32." Came the cautious voice of the female prisoner.
Barry recognized it as the number of the ishbalan girl that had assassinated a leading general in south Central, by the means of a single arrow.
As she had her number branded, the man turned to the massive suit with the clubs.
"And you?"
No answer.
The doctor cleared his throat.
"Your cell number please?"
The prisoner only gazed at him, trembling slightly.
"Can you remember your cell number?" Marcho repeated again.
Still the prisoner did not speak
Suddenly realization dawned on the old mans face.
"Hang on-can you hear me?" He said loudly and clearly.
The prisoner nodded his head violently.
"Then...I am sorry. I did not realize you were incapable of speech."
The prisoner gazed at the floor.
"Can you by any means show me what number you had?"
The prisoner shook his head sadly and held up his hands, which were nothing but crude clubs, and completely unable of independent movement.
"I see...Nalea? Can you get the one who transmuted it? He may remember which prisoner he took."
"He died shortly afterwards. His body was found among those that were killed by the one with the barbed arms."
She replied dryly.
"Ah."

There was a pressed silence, then Marco gave a deep sigh and stood up.
"They will just have to live with that one of their experiments does not have any notification. Not that its necessary, Tlacka requested personally that only the failed ones were to be experimented on."
He shot the snake a surprisingly angry look.
"Yes. My Abel has always been rather proud of his creations."
She answered with relish.
Marco shook his head and moved over to the smallest prisoner after having branded 48, deciding also to brand 49's number, though the number was hidden.
As he got to the armored alchemist, he hesitated.
"I heard of your...misfortune. I'm afraid you must have a number anyhow, seeing as you now are no longer considered an alchemist."
The alchemist sighed.
"Whatever. Not like its going to help anyway."
"Allright..."
After some consideration Marco branded in the number 81.
He turned to the last, the young Ishbalan.
"So, what is your number?" He asked, addressing the young boy.
"79." Came the cautious voice.
Marco tensed up in surprise, turning to the snake.
"A child?! What were they thinking? This is madness!"
"Just get on with it old man." She hissed.
He shook his head, branding the number into the helmet.
He paused, gazing at the young prisoner.
"Youre...Youre that ishbalan boy, am I right?"
"Y-yes..." Came the trembling voice.
Marco's eyes softened, and he lay a hand on the small boy's shoulder.
"How old are-?"
"ENOUGH!! Age means nothing in the state he's in."
Hissed the snake.

"When one has become nearly immortal, such things are trifles.
I myself have lived for such a long time in this form that I have forgotten how it is to be human, and good riddance I'd say! I was the dreaded Silent Serpent, The Green Snake, the most dreaded murderer of my time! I killed mercilessly, aided by my REAL kin, the snakes."
She spat angrily. "I could never admit that I was a puny human, I saw myself above their laws and discipline. So I killed for the mere fun of it, knowing that I could. But I was caught and imprisoned...sentenced to death. But Abel found me, he had been an accomplished alchemist for some time, working in secret for the government, this place is much more ancient than people may think. He fell in love with me, not with my flesh and body, but by my destructive nature that he saw possibilities in. He somehow talked the alchemist in charge at the time to let him experiment on me, and somehow succeeded in giving me a form that I suited even better than my human body. He created it himself, sometimes using alchemy, sometimes his bare hands. Every single plate was fashioned with the greatest caution, my fangs were molded from the purest diamond, which he formed alchemically. He even made them hollow, allowing a deadly venom of my creation to be able to pass through them by the means of a small sack in the back of my head, a venom so strong that it can eat through metal."
She paused, swirling her eyes to the dumbstruck prisoners.
"Ever since I have aided my lover in any way I can. But you are nothing now, you will never see the outside world again. You are merely going to be kept here for observation. In such a life, name and age no longer matters."

She turned to Marco. "Inform them the location of their bloodseals. We don't want them killing themselves by mistake."
Marco sighed and slowly approached each of them, sometimes asking them to remove parts of their armour, sometimes just pointing out the position.
Barry took of his front plate, with some difficulty due to his stubby fingers. He removed his head, angling it so he could see directly inside him. A fresh smear of blood was right behind, somewhere at the bottom of his back.
48 had his in the back of his helmet, 49 having his directly under, in the back of his neck.
The female ishbalan had hers on the inside of her chest, hers being the most detailed of the blood arrays.
The alchemist had his under one shoulder plate.
"I can't believe I actually drew this myself before setting of the reaction..." He sighed.
The young boy had his also on the back of his helmet.
Marco paused as he got to the massive numberless prisoner.
"Seeing as you don't have an alchemist who informed me of the location of your bloodrune...do you mind if I locate it myself?"
The prisoner shrugged, clearly not caring.
After some searching, the bloodseal turned out to be located in the foot of the suit.
The snake flicked her tail with satisfaction.
"Come. Your work is done now. We are very thankful for the red water you have supplied us with, it has helped immensely."
Marco wearily stood up, walking out, followed closely by Nalea.
As the door closed, the snake's voice rang out.
"Remember, forget yourselves, and submit to who you have become. For you will never be human again."

[masterwarlord]

Another fine chapter. Naela is now much more likable as a character and more developed, even if it was a bit random her randomly going and telling her life story. Either way, it was defenitely worth it. Another actual FMA showing up in Marcoh was quite welcome, and I also liked how you’ve had actual continuity with the other prisoners bound to the suits of armor, turning them somewhat into characters and not just people in the background. I was particularly fond of what you came up with for the numberless prisoner.

I knew about Gluttony not being in Barry’s flashback, but seeing Gluttony constantly follows Lust around, I didn’t consider it far fetched that he showed up at some point. Anyway, more people need to read this. Really good stuff.

[amouri]

Hm, well Nalea does not really care, seeing as she considers the prisoners have no way of harming her or letting her secret out. She loves to boast as well, so of course she had to try and strike fear in them. GARK after all that planning and thinking I forgot to give the armored alchemist any number >.< Gotta do that ASAP
I'll fit ol' Glut in somehow

[amouri]

Done ^^ now the alchemist is no longer known as Josh, but number 81

[amouri]

Flick. Doink. Plunk.
Flick. Doink. Plunk.
...
Flick. Doink. Plunk.

The young ishbalan boy wearily flicked a small piece of rubble against the wall, picking it up and repeating the process over and over again.
The youngest Slicer brother shifted slightly, feeling his body tense up for a split second before relaxing once more.
It was the awaited response from his older brother, which had been reduced to being nothing but a helmet with a human soul attached to it by that foul ritual which had taken place days-maybe weeks?-ago.
It had been confusing in the beginning, as the brothers both discovered that they could easily control each other.
The oldest brother could move the lower part of his body at will, though only if the youngest ignored his instincts and merely let it happen.
As was the oldest forced to submit every time, after a split seconds hesitation every time the youngest turned his head.
After some time they had silently agreed on taking shifts, the other resting meanwhile.
At least, if it were possible to rest in their state they would do it.
Having a body made out of metal, fatigue was no longer possible.
That had become both a relief...and a curse.
The young Slicer sighed inwardly, deciding not to do it out loud. He wouldn't want to make his older brother worried.
In some ways it was fine enough that it was the oldest that had become the head.
He had always been the most sensible of the two, being twelve years older than his younger sibling.
The youngest on the other hand, was more reckless, preferring to strike first and ask afterwards.
It may have been misinterpreted as a foolish way of acting, but some people were more patient than others.

He watched in slight surprise as his hand suddenly twitched, lifting from where it had been resting on his knee and clenching and unclenching.
He heard his brother grunt reassuringly, and he realized that the older was merely exploring their ranges of movement again.
He took up the challenge, lifting the other hand carefully, as he struggled mutely with the effort it took.
The oldest quickly realized he had been blocking the youngest's movement, and the younger Slicer could now move his hand freely.
It was tricky when they both tried moving at the same time, and they could not yet do it on the same body parts, but he hoped that in time, they would.
He would have frowned, but seeing as he didn't have a face-hell, he didn't even have a head-he couldn't feel the normal reassuring feeling of his brow furrowing.
He chuckled slightly at the thought that such a thing could be reassuring, making his brother clear his throat slightly.
"Its nothing."
"...Allright."
He was still slightly puzzled how it was possible for him to actually see, seeing as his head was technically his brother. It could be that he saw through his brothers eyes, though even when he had removed his brother from his neck, his vision still functioned perfectly, and he had had an amusing image of his eyeballs suspended in midair over the open neck of the armour.

He glanced up as the female ishbalan prisoner, or 32 as they had learned to know her, patiently tried to help the dumb prisoner with the massive clubbed hands communicate.
"Allright, if we can somehow devise some method so you can make yourself understood...we could try sound? You can bang your clubs together a certain amount of times, and we could decide what it stands for? You know, like two bangs for danger, one for safety, three for discomfort and so on...I doubt it would be hard to memorize, what do you say?"
The prisoner shrugged slightly, his shoulders slumping in what was recognizable as a silent sigh.
He placed a massive clubbed arm on her shoulder, clearly signaling that he was grateful about her concern, but he'd rather stay silent than possibly be misunderstood.
The youngest Slicer gazed at the female prisoner as she sighed and slumped on the floor, crossing her arms.
She was caring, and had tried to bring some cheerfulness into the dingy cell ever since the ritual.
Though 66 and 81 had not made it easy, 81 had been prone to lying slumped in a corner, overcome by depression, whilst 66 had spent his time fuming silently, or muttering angrily while looking
for possible weaknesses in the wall.
He switched his gaze to the mentioned prisoner, who was twitching slightly, glaring at the young
79.

FLick. Doink. Plunk.
"WILL YOU STOP PLAYING WITH THAT STONE ALREADY!!!" 66 roared suddenly, surging up with irritation.
The young ishbalan froze, the blue orbs of his eyes quivering slightly.
"I'm...s-sorry. I was bored..."
32 sent 66 a sharp glare, which made him recoil slightly.
"Allright allright...Sorry kid, just carry on if its what you need to do to stay sane."
He leaned against the wall with crossed arms. Gazing with narrow eyes into midair.
After some hesitation, the boy started again.
Flick. Doink. Plunk.
The young Slicer swiveled his eyes to 32 again. She had bonded quite quickly with the boy, seeing as they were both ishbalans...
He heard his brother take a sharp intake in breath.
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Move my eyes. You just managed to move them, now I can't."
"Oh? Sorry..."
The youngest Slicer concentrated for a moment, and soon after his older brother sighed in relief.
"Thanks."
"Your welcome. It seems there is still some things we have to work on."
"Yes, you did tell me this might take some getting used to. You were right."
They heard footsteps outside the cell, and immediately the strange beasts in the cells and cages around them started roaring and snarling in hunger.
"Allright allright! Shut up you mangy mutts!"
"Todd, they're not dogs you know."
"Pff. Whatever. The human chimeras come close enough."
"Hardly human anymore though."
It was obviously feeding time, and they heard the heavy wheelbarrow filled with various feed, such as oats, insects, fruit and meat.
81, when not wallowing in his misery, had spent most of his time explaining the daily routine of the lab they lived in.
He had told them that it had actually been his first time actually taking part in the experiments, on that cursed day of the ritual.
"And then I ended up in this pitiful form with you convicts." He had sighed wearily.
Then 66 had told him to shut his big fat snobby gob, and that he was just as miserable as any prisoner, probably more.

Suddenly, a fat hunk of blood-dripping meat was pushed through the opening above the door, and landed with a noisy splat directly on top of 66's head, whom which had been standing directly up against the door.
"There ya go ya filthy buggar, nice an' tasty grub for ya!"
Came the loud voice from the other side.
66 twitched slightly, trembling with fury as 79 and 81 toppled over laughing, and 32 covered her face while giggling slightly.
He slowly reached up and dragged the bloody haunch off his head, turning around and flinging it through the opening again.
"MMMM WHAT A LOVELY MEAL THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN!!" He roared angrily.
"'TIS A SHAME REALLY, THAT I CANT EAT IT!!!"
There was a slight pause from the other side, and then:
"Either somebody blended ol' sharp tooth with a parrot, or you just gave those armored fellas his meat."
"Aw shi-"
"NOOO YOU'RE RIGHT!! I AM A PARROT!!! SQWUAAAK SQWUUAAAK POLLY WANTS SUGAR!!! YOU RETARDED
IDIOTS!!" 66 yelled mockingly, pounding the door with his fists.
"ALLRIGHT! Shut up you miserable pile of scrap! Geez..."
They listened intently as the workers trundled on, stopping a moment after at the next cell.
66 angrily took of his head, trying in vain to wipe of the blood.
"Those rat-brained dumb-asses..." He grumbled, clicking the still sopping wet helmet back into place.
"Easy there with the language 66, we don't want our young friend picking up anything from you."
Came the bored voice of 81.
"And after all, such tongue is hardly appreciated in the presence of a lady."
He added, winking at 32.
She sighed in irritation.
"Lay off with the flirting, its not going to get you anywhere."
"Aw, come on. I came from a rich family, if we ever bust out of this place I could secure your position for life-"
"Yeah right, as though anyone of us can prove who we are."
66 suddenly said.

They all turned their heads, watching him intently.
"I mean, come on, how can we even prove that we have ever existed? Our bodies are gone, we're trapped in this hell-hole, and we can hardly call ourselves human."
There was a scraping as the young 79 stood up swiftly.
"Don't say that." He said, his voice trembling with anger.
"Say what? Its not like it isn't true. What if they executed the prisoners, and then decided to use their memories and personalities to created false murderers, creating the memory of the ritual to keep us under control? I mean, all this soul-business is getting to me. How can one prove that one even has one? Its all fake, we're nothing but experiments."
There was a strained silence, as everyone digested what he had just said.
"You're scared..."
The youngest Slicer turned his head in surprise, and looked at number 32.
"...arent you?" She finished in a surprisingly soft voice.
66 froze. "What the hell are you talking about?" He hissed menacingly.
She looked at him with something close to pity in the gray orbs of her eyes.
"You're terrified that you have never existed, and you're worried that you won't be able to stay sane without a reason to live."
66 trembled slightly, his eyes expanding.
"No...I...You-"
"Pff. Look at him crumbling. Not so self confident now, eh 66?"
Came the sly tone of 81.
66 bellowed with fury, launching himself towards the alchemist, locking his hands around the latter's throat.
"Don't-you-dare-mock-me-" He growled,struggling against 81's resistance.
"Both of you-STOP!"
79 desperately grabbed 66's arm from behind, but was hit in the face by one of 81's flailing limbs.
66 and 81 stopped fighting, and both of them trembled violently, staring into midair.
"Everything is just...unreal..." 66 choked, whilst 81 covered his eyes while his shoulders shook with despair.
"Its allright...We all feel that way..." 32 walked over, and crouched down, embracing all three of them in a hug.
79's eyes quivered, and he lay his head on her shoulder while sobbing heavily.
66 stiffened at her touch, staring at her in shock, but then he relaxed, and both him and 81 clung to her as children seeking comfort and warmth.
The massive clubbed one, though not able to express his feelings in speech, also shuffled over, wrapping his big clumsy arms around the small group.
The youngest Slicer felt it as well, and after some hesitation from his brother, they also staggered over and joined the embrace.
"Its allright...We're all in this together..." 32 murmured, stroking 79.
She breathed deeply, and with her voice trembling with emotion, she began to sing.
"Hush my angels, no need to fear
For the Great One Almighty will always be there
The sun is a-setting, the moon takes its place,
now hush my babies, safe in embrace..."The haunting melody of the ishbalan lullaby caused the wild animals caged in the cells outside to pause and listen in thought.

((Yeah fine. I made a group of hardened killers cry. Shoot me. I dare you))

[masterwarlord]

Another good chapter. I particularly liked the beginning part with you interpreting the awkward process of how the Slicer brothers got used to sharing one body. The characters are getting pretty well fleshed out, too. I feel considerably more comfortable with 81, 32, and the group as a whole. The scene at the end was a bit awkward having everyone join in on, but I wouldn't say it was outright bad.

I know one of you out there besides me must be reading this. Comment!

[amouri]

Thanks ^^ I'm sure the group hug wasn't exactly intended, and I can assure you that it probably won't happen again. They were just in that vulnerable stage where they doubt who they are, and many of them had still not gotten used to their new forms.
Yes, I agree, I would like more comments and critisism on this ^^