From Death's Door......

[Alisa Donnikova]

Ruins, ruins, everywhere. What do you see? Not much there. A booted foot kicked over a rock as Alisa stood there with her hands on her hips and a cig hanging from her lips. Well fuck. Glad she hadn't gotten involved in that load of bullshit. Amestris got wrecked, and she had to admit she was mildly amused. What? Wasn't like it really affected her. Just meant she probably wasn't going to find a lot of work there for a good long while. Least not out of Central. The only reason she was here was because she had to hide out for a while. Lay low. Anyone who might want her dead here were probably either gone, or dead themselves. Win for her! Then there was Spade--

NO. FUCKING BULLSHIT.

She shouldn't give a flying fuck if he was alive or not! Amestris and Creta wanted to play risk, fine. It didn't involve her. At all. No way, shape, or form. "Fucking idiots. Way to lose your shit." She muttered, stuffing her hands frustratedly in her pockets as she stomped over the rubble with her combat boots. Her eyes were rather dull, looking boredly at the scene about her. God it was boring. Reminded her of fucking Drachma. What the fuck.... Growling, she punted another decently sized piece of rubble, taking a deep draw on her cigarette. Mother fuckers. Her mood was shit right now. And where the fuck were the fucking bars?!¿! Couldn't even find any fucking booze! "FUCK!" She screamed, casting down the finished cig to make room for another.

"Oi! Keep it down!" A voice called from a tent nearby, her brown eyes lighting up with rage. Pulling out her one Cutlass, she shot at the air just past the man's head. If she had hackles, they would be up. "Why don't you SHUT THE FUCK UP AND MIND YOUR OWN FUCKING BUSINESS YOU CUNT SUCKING SHIT!" She snapped, feeling little to no satisfaction at how she had startled the crap out of the man. He retreated into his tent with discomfort, vanishing from her sight. Fuck. This. Bullshit. Shoving her gun back into its holster underneath her arms, she clenched her hands into fists and kept walking, not even sure where the hell she should head.

This day was strange, something plain weird was in the air. Maybe it was all the dust from the buildings, maybe it was the lack of booze. Either way, the mixed woman knew that that certainly wasn't going to be the end of these strange, if not annoying, events. Sighing heavily, she suddenly lost all of her fury and instead felt... empty. The cigarettes smoke drifted up towards the sky as she noticed a piece of partially burnt wood, the charcoal on the one end rather suited towards what she needed right then. Picking it up, she walked over to the wall of a ruined building and began to sketch out something. It wasn't really clear initially what anything was, the lack of perfect charcoal affecting that. Huh. She wanted to draw for once. Now this was strange. Wonder what the fuck else is gonna happen....

[Spade Aeries]

The day Spade returned from the hospital was a blur of muffled voices and staggering replies: "Do you have anyone to look after you?"

"No, but what's it matter anyway?"

"Just don't want to see you end up here again." Spade saw the doctor eye the cigarette in his mouth. He blew out a plume of smoke in a sigh.

"No worries, doc, I'll make a full recovery." There's something that's more important to me than rotting in this damn place.

Spade grit his teeth from where he still lay on his bed from the day before. It smelled of smoke, ash, rusty springs, and moldy mattress fuzz. Needless to say it wasn't pleasant. Why...had he left the hospital again? It had been free food and an actual...bed. He sure as hell couldn't call this thing a bed anymore. It was remains...remains of an old life. His eyes slanted across the torn room and saw condoms fallen out all over the floor. It would have been embarrassing if he wasn't himself. But he found himself laughing. God, when had things fucked up so much that his room had to actually look like a bomb exploded in it? He placed a hand on his damp forehead and stopped laughing, trying to spare his ribs from the further torture. Well, at least he wasn't fumbling for the painkillers like a junkie in need of a fix anymore. That was a change for the better... He was just pissed he had run out of cigarettes. And, well, there was a giant, gaping hole in his ceiling. Apparently it had already rained while he was gone because everything was SOAKED last night. He moaned and rolled over to look at the kitchen. Oh wondrous rotten food god could you please take away the stick for just..a little while? He felt like he was suffocating. Spade Aeries who could stick his face into a toilet bowl to puke his guts out couldn't stand the stench. What the fuck did he keep in there anyway? It wasn't like him to leave anything edible before war... He was so off-track. It had been so long...since he had been home. ...home? Was this really home?

His hand dropped from his head and he turned to stare at the blue sky through the hole. And if you thought that was bad, imagine what it looked like from the outside of his building... HIDEOUS. What happened to his luxury apartment that most people dreamed of owning!? And he was upset?! Imagine the people with no homes! Yeah, shut up self. No one wants to hear your shit anyway. Just go back to sleep. But he was starving. Pretty sure he couldn't cook anything with his...rotten remains. Bad idea. It was a good idea, however, to order pizza, but the thought of cheese, bread, and grease sort of made him want to stick his face in the toilet and hurl. Ugh. Fuck it he'll just starve. Starve and waste away here--just another body for the cause of...nothingness. Also, bad idea.

He tired to resist the temptation that had been plaguing him ever since he found himself in the hospital. But would it be a mistake? Could he take the pain of being rejected? What...would he do? He squeeze his eyes onto his iPhone lying next to him half-dead just like he was. Should he? Now? Could he? Now? It was..not a bad idea. Rough fingers fiddled for it and clasped around the flashy surface of the screen. Just a few touches and she would be reached. Would she be angry? He really hoped that she wouldn't flip out at him. It was something that would probably make her nervous. Any girl would turn away at the thought that her prospect was shot in war...and war that wasn't going away anytime soon. It was his job. And most jobs weren't nearly as dangerous as his. So...there were plenty of other guys that wouldn't get shot up. Now though...there didn't seem to be too many jobs running at all. Glory turning to shit: the classic story. Spade was sick of living it.

He touched his bloodied bandages and cursed. Sleeping sucked. He must have jarred the stitches while dreaming about whatever the hell he dreamt about that wasn't damsels dashing to him. Okay, he'd do it. Just get it over with. He was going to do it anyway. And whatever he reaction was, he'd accept it because that was the kind of guy he was. He'd just take it...whether he could or not, he would. He skimmed through his contacts and pressed on the one that said 'Ali Ababwa'. God, he had to have been insanely drunk when he came up with that one. He didn't know her last name...and thus gave her an entirely new name that consisted of only the first three letters of her actual name. Aladdin was Spade's favorite Disney movie.

He dialed and pressed it to his ear.

[Alisa Donnikova]

The soft scrapping sounds of the broken wood against the stone was heard amidst the quiet wind blowing and distant sounds of civilization. The picture was turning out rather detailed actually much to her surprise. The slight frown on her lips wasn't as hard or well... violent as it might have been otherwise. The scene she drew almost complimented the scene of destruction about her. It showed war, but it also showed the smallest signs of life hidden amongst the despair. She began to hum a Drachman song, almost not noticing her phone vibrate in her pocket as she added a couple of finishing touches.

Taking a step back, she pulled the HTC Aria out of her pocket and hit a button to see who was-- Fuck. It was as if everything around her stopped for a moment, her eyes just staring at the name that looked back at her. Gambit. A.k.a., Spade Aeries. It was as if she forgot how to think. How did he know she was even here?! Or that she had... THAT was it. She had to fucking think his name. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear... Fucking hell. Her thumb slid down on the screen as she held it up to her ear, her face twisting in its frustration of goddamn complex bullshit she never had to fucking worry about before because it was fucking bullshit.

"Hello--Fuck. Hi. This about a contract?" She stopped and stared at the scene around her, sighing in her tension as she leaned, or practically fell back, against the wall behind her. "....Scratch that. How... How are you?" Fuck. She had no fucking clue how the fuck to talk to him. BULLSHIT. Goddamn motherfucking bullshit... She was a ninny, and yet... She felt a twinge of happiness that he called. Meant he wasn't dead. She wanted to snap at him, she really REALLY wanted to, but.... Again her brown eyes surveyed the rubble, the lingering blood stains, the scorch marks...

Taking another deep breath, she forced down the anger that rose up at the alien-ness of this whole thing and kicked another rock to propel those emotions away. "Interesting decor choice, post-war is not quite my first choice." She tried to joke out of sheer, overwhelming awkwardness, bowing her head as she stared at her boots. Her features were now tired, her brows still furrowed as her eyes were akin to half-lidded, drawing on the cig she had almost forgotten was in her mouth. "Sorry." She muttered softly into the mouthpiece, not even sure if it was for the bad joke or what had happened to what he identified as his home. Because she knew that seriously fucked with your head. 'specially if there were friends lost. War.... it never changed....

[Spade Aeries]

"Hello" he knew the word in Drachman. The simple word--the greeting--in a different language. But it was in her voice. Her voice that managed to send arrays of shivers coursing down his spine like shower water gone cold. "How are you?" He smiled, breath filtering through the phone as a sigh of relief went from plastic to space and back out of plastic to her. How could voices travel so far...? He treasured it now. It was as if he were realizing for the first time... how amazing technology was. Just to hear her voice...the cursing, the cool way of dealing with him and his random, spur-of-the-moment phone call. He wanted to tell her to talk more so he could just listen, but he didn't. "I'm so glad you're alive," he said, relief for the first time in what seemed like years washing over him in waves of fresh sunlight. Or...maybe that was just the clouds clearing over the gaping hole in his ceiling, but whatever; he was just trying to roll with the miracle here! Out of the millions that died, she wasn't one of them. She was hard to get rid of. Spade liked that.

"Interesting decor choice, post-war is not quite my first choice." Her joke sounded nervous, but he found himself laughing lightly instead of trying to tell her that it wasn't the end of the world. A callused hand tangled through brown bangs, palm against his forehead. "Sorry." She apologized suddenly, and it surprised him for a moment. Sitting up with pained exhales of air, he held himself with his free arm. "It's okay..." A pause. He was thinking--thinking about that night. The humid night he met her. Why was he calling now? Other girls wouldn't have answered. Numbers that were fake--that were meant to dwell in trashcans. Those were one night stands--what he had loved before. Before that night that ruined it all and didn't. Being alone was becoming unbearable. People...Shula, dying...Apos, leaving...Josef, dead. Markus was dead. Spade's small joys in an already pained existence were being swept away. But he was grateful for the scar on his back, for the bullet wound in his chest, for even his broken ribs because it reminded him that he was still alive--that he still had reason to push on--to push that call button and know that she would answer. "I got shot," he said. "Yeah, it was bad." Spade sucked in a deep breath. "I want to see you."

And it hurt. Not just holding himself up like that, but realizing his need for people, except not anyone made him feel this way--this familiar unfamiliar feeling. It hurt. So much more than any gunshot wound. It was like fighting with yourself and losing. It was ungraspable... irreplaceable. Shirley. The conclusion was Shirley, and it scared him. He wanted to curse whatever evil spirit was following him that enjoyed making his life a living hell. He had lifted the gun. He had almost pulled the trigger. But that bastard that ruined his life was still out there and RIOTE. His country--his city was still in ruin. The decor had to change. Spade Aeries would make it change with a paintbrush called madskill. He had dropped the gun. There were still people that cared too much. Alisa was alive--alive and not Shirley who was dead. He shut his eyes tightly. "I'm starving." But starving for what?

[Alisa Donnikova]

The sigh... He.. He must have gone through some shit in this game of risk and... Fuck. He was all outta wack with this phone call too. Fuck she had grown weak! Love is never a weakness child. Shut the fuck up! God, her parents voices would forever haunt her and she knew it. Even if slightly, she was normalizing and her mother woulda been fucking happy about that. But would she approved of the man? The man who drank as much as her daughter, smoked as much as her, and who.... Fuck Fate. FUCK IT TO HELL. Gritting her teeth, she was about to slam her fist into the wall behind her when she heard, "I'm so glad you're alive." That made her stop, the muscles in her legs relaxing as she slid down that broken down wall with a small 'thump' as her bum hit the concrete. Drawing one last time on that cig, she flicked it away and tried to ignore that tumult of emotions that those words had called up. "Course I'm alive dipshit, I'm a fucking survivalist! Why the fuck would I involve myself in your goddamn war? There's no money in that!" She snapped, her right hand clenching into a tight fist. She felt fucking touched that it mattered so much to him. HER. TOUCHED. The fuck! She hated it, she loved it, over and over in her head and in her heart. They were two dogs circling each other in the ring, snarling and biting at the air. She wanted to scream and curse the sky as loud as she fucking could because.... because... Nobody had made her feel this way before. And she didn't want to lose it.

He laughed? At her joke? Well what a goddamn surprise. But it was that pained breathing she heard on the other end that forced her to sit up more. Fuck. He had her around his finger. He really did. And he was even comforting her! THE FUCK WAS THIS BULLSHIT! "Don't tell me it's ok! Shits... " She was tired. She was tired..... and she realized how alone she was. Hearing his voice, remembering that night.... He really was her one savior from her path of destruction, her tie to the humanity she thought she had cast away years ago. She fell quiet as she glared daggers at the ground, noticing a crushed beer can not far away. Leaning forward on her knees, she grasped it and held it in the palm of her right hand, just staring at it. She didn't mind being told it was ok. But like hell she could tell him that! He already knew he was her weakness! But his words still lingered in her ear. She was also his. He cared as much as she did, and...

"I got shot. "Yeah, it was bad." A deep breath. "I want to see you."

. . . What. Mother fucker. "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN 'I GOT SHOT'? Don't sound so fucking casual about it you goddamn bitch ass..... FUCK!" Well, she got to scream it. Really fucking loud. Least she pulled the phone away so she wouldn't deafen him. Nobody poked their heads out either which was good. Good for them. Adrenaline was coursing through her as she practically jumped to her feet, her hand crushing that beer can even further. She didn't even notice it had cut into her skin. He had been fucking shot. Fucking war. Deep breaths. Another cig, where the fuck were her smokes?! Throwing that beer can as hard as she could at that wall, she found her cigs, her rushed breathing clear as she pressed the phone between her shoulder and cheek. "I want to see you." Her eyes had dulled as she put that cig in her mouth, lighting up the death stick with a heavy sigh. She was quiet for another moment. "Least you're in one goddamn piece or you wouldn't be calling you motherfucker. Alright, you aren't in a hospital, not enough voices and beeping and shit." She murmured as she walked around, moving to find a good vantage point. Fuck everything was gone. Where were landmarks when you needed them?! "I'm guessing you aren't in a tent either. Don't tell me your apartment is still standing you lucky bastard." He would be that lucky too. Breaking into a run down the street, her long legs propelled her over rubble and small craters, not even trying to think about why she was running. Because well... she wanted to see him too.

So she ran, ignoring some of the stares that she got along the way, ignoring those that begged for money because they had lost it all. They didn't matter. The child crying lost amongst the tents didn't matter either. Only Spade mattered. Just goddamn Spade. God help the world if they ended up on opposites sides in a fight, because she would tear it all fucking down. She still held the phone to her ear with her left hand, managing to not breath into the speaker as she ran off her frustration, her cig dangling from her mouth. She had to stop thinking. Just go. Just do, thats what she was good at. "I swear Spade Aeries, I hope you aren't trying to get yourself killed." If was one of those rare statements where she didn't curse. At all. And she wasn't sure if that meant she meant those words more or less. Slowing at an intersection, she didn't know Central all that well, but she could at least sort of recognize shit. Panting, she felt her eyebrow twitched at his mention of food, growling a little. "And where the fuck am I going to find food?! Most of this place is a goddamn DMZ!" She snapped, turning down the street as she ran some more, caring not for the burning in her muscles. It just meant that she was alive, and that she was going to get there to see him.

[Spade Aeries]

"Don't tell me it's ok! Shits..."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, "I just thought--never mind. It's not important." He sighed and shut his eyes, laying flat on his back because that was the only way it wasn't excruciating. He couldn't do this...this thinking thing. It felt like his mind was filled with clouds about to rain. There was a thunderstorm brewing in there... He just wished it would rain beer or something. But somehow he figured that wasn't right. Not even in his mind would it be able to rain alcohol. His hand twitched and he shifted so he could hear into the receiver better, suddenly wishing he hadn't.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN 'I GOT SHOT'? Don't sound so fucking casual about it you goddamn bitch ass....."

...

She needed anger management classes for sure. "Ca--"

"FUCK!"

Spade sucked in a sharp breath and winced, the pain all too visible in his voice, although he tried his best to be convincing. "Calm down, haha, I'm not dying or anything." He really hoped that she would stop cursing... All it was doing was making him nervous. Was it because she cared? Or was she just pissed because he had called her? He wiped the sweat off his brow and ruffled the long hair on the sides of his face. He had no idea what she was thinking...and then she said it.

"Least you're in one goddamn piece..." Spade smiled, letting the sound of those few words settle in his ears. So it was because she did care. It came as slightly surprising to him... Usually they wouldn't even pick up when he called. It filled him with excitement...happiness... Whatever those foreign feelings were, he was no longer experiencing the dull feeling of loneliness. He was no longer being eaten alive by his self-loathing thoughts. He was smiling like the playboy he was, listening to her voice and trying not to make eye contact with his bloodstained bandages.

"Yeah, it's standing...though barely. W-wait are you...running?" He sat up quickly in surprise and pressed the phone tighter to his head, focusing on the sound of her breathing. It was sort of...erotic. Was she coming to see him? Shit... he got up too fast. "Arrghgoddd" His equilibrium flipped, his vision went, and he fell unceremoniously off the bed. BANG. Silence... A deep, shaky breath. "Fuck," he breathed out. The floor cracked. Spade didn't move. "Fuck my life. You just had to jynx it, didn't you. If I--AH--move...just slightly...the floor...it's gunna fucking cave in. Shit. Bring a rope or something... Ugh..." He wound an arm around his ribs and took shallow breaths to push past the pain until his vision cleared enough to focus on the fact that his kitchen was now gone and there was a large, gaping hole in his apartment. There were cracks all around him... He looked at his wrist and saw only his hospital band. FUCK. Where was his watch when he needed it!? Shitshitshitshit... "Forget the food and stop changing languages on me I'm about to fall to my death here!"

[Alisa Donnikova]

God... She was really terrible at this whole human relations shit. At least with him. Some people were fine! They were on her side of the fence! She didn't have to.... Slowing again, the made another turn and prayed it was the right way, thankful of what good shape she was in. Shit... Spade was on their side too, but... but he wasn't at the same time. And he was pulling her with him, pulling her into territory that she had never been familiar with. Not even before her life got crazy. She didn't know how to be proper, she didn't.... God... this was such shit.

She could hear his pain, and she was not reassured in the least. She grimaced as that raging ocean of emotions just kept growing more and more rowdy and tumultuous. How did he put up with her? She swore like a sailor, she was rough, she didn't talk pretty. Why? Why her? What the fuck did he see in her?! Tch. What about herself for that matter? What the hell did she..... Her lungs were beginning to burn as she tore down a familiar street, knowing that she had to be close. Had to. No, she had to stop thinking. She really did. She'd just keep chasing her own tail like a goddamn dog. Grimacing, her eyes narrowed. Yeah.... she was just some rabid dog that no one wanted to touch. Fuck. And of course, the first person that brings it home it attaches to like a leech. Shit... what would her father say.....

"Go home. Reacquaint yourself with your roots. Remember my lessons. This is a dream my little soldier. Let it pass, and it will."

....Yea...Yeah that sounded like him alright. Shit, his apartment was still standing! Snickering, she shook her head as she glanced around at the destruction about her. It seriously was standing amongst all this? "You are one lucky fuck Spade Aeries." She muttered, raising an eyebrow at his question. What kind of question was that? "The fuck kind of question is that?! 'course I'm running--" "Arrghgoddd" .... What the fuck was that? Slowing a little, she shook her head and pushed herself even harder. She was almost goddamn there. Hearing him curse, she felt her jaw tighten in its place, fuck this shit. Of course things couldn't go fucking smoothly. Wait, HER fault?! "The fuck you just say?! Listen here you injured-" Anger gone. Shitshitshitshitshit.... How the hell was she supposed to....

Think. Fast. Come on, she had pulled herself out of situations like this! Well, granted she hadn't been shot beforehand but.... Ugh, FUCK. She slowed to a stop in front of his apartment, clearly seeing where it had already caved in. And she probably shouldn't shout because that could cause some sort of failure.... FUCK!! "Shut the fuck up for two seconds, I'm thinking!" She snapped, glancing around before noticing a pile of cans nearby. Perfect. Darting over to them, she grabbed as many as she could hold and ran back to the front of his collapsing home. She held the phone between her ear and her shoulder, taking a deep breath which was hard since she wanted/needed to pant.

"Alright, so, here's the plan. Don't move, I'm making something." She told him though it wasn't like she had a great plan to begin with. As she shifted, her phone slipped and crashed to the ground, growling at the twist of luck. "Fuck." No time to waste, she could see it was ready to go. Taking a deep breath, she could see where the support beams were and she ran into the rubble, the circles in the palms of her gloves already activating. He'd probably hate her for this, but they were out of time and options. Even her survivalist instincts were quiet for once since normally they'd be going haywire over a stunt like this.

Standing beneath where he must be laying on the floor, the aluminum of the cans formed a platform with a pillar whose base she placed on the floor. She kept her hands on the lower part of the pillar, staring up at the severely cracked floor. The platform hopefully had enough room for his whole body unless she was off from where he was. Shit this stunt was dumb. A crack. Shit....

The floor began to cave, her brown eyes unable to see if he was resting on the platform or not, but she did feel the added weight as the muscles in her arms tensed. She had to hold this steady even as rubble and furniture came crashing down dangerously close to her body. Focusing entirely on the task at hand, the pillar of aluminum began to lower, each added bit extending the platform a bit further. She was mostly protected by her own creation a decent sized chunk of flooring still slamming into her shoulder. Pain! God FUCKING WHORE! Growling, she didn't waste anymore time, bending the pillar to basically shrink down so he was right there in front of her, her face twisted with the throbbing of her shoulder. That was going to leave a mark. Readjusting the metal, it wrapped around Spades hips tightly, basically pushing him out to the street the same way she had gotten in, as more rubble crumbled down about her.

Once she was sure he was out, she let go of the aluminum and booked it, jumping forward as a piece of flooring tried to eat her foot. Fuck that! She was getting out! Diving through the opening, she rolled. Onto her bad shoulder. "RRRRRRAAAAAAAAHHH THIS HURTS! THIS REALLY FUCKING HURTS! FUCKING BITCH ASS CUNT MOTHERFUCKING COCKSUCKERS--"

CRASH!

Aaaand there went the rest of his apartment, sitting up as she glared at her left shoulder, testing to make sure she could still move her arm. Well that was good, least she could. Spade. Turning her gaze upon him, it was if everything else had been pushed behind a filter, reaching over to touch the aluminum that was still around his hips. It fell away, her eyes focusing on the bloody bandages as a grimace grew upon her lips. Suddenly she sighed and ran a hand through her bangs, staring at the decimated Central about them. "I swear, you Amestrians don't know how to fuckin' party right. Can't even go somewhere nice." She scoffed, pulling out her smokes and lighting up. Offering him one, she found herself smirking. What a pair of fucking idiots they were. They wreck shit, get wasted, and smoke themselves closer to deaths cold embrace.

[Spade Aeries]

Something precious was going...and it wasn't his sunglasses because they were already lost somewhere in the tides of war. It was his consciousness--again with the blacking out. The darkness really wouldn't give him a fucking break. It was like it was after him or something...some evil form of karma coming back to gnaw on his ass for killing Shirley and/or breaking the many hearts of dames. Of all the girls he took home, at least half of them never wanted to leave. He didn't blame them... after a night with him in bed, it was like being kicked out of heaven. A hefty punch to the dick that translated to whatever it did for a female. He didn't know; Spade Aeries was only gifted in pleasuring not causing pain.

But right about now he only knew pain--torrents of it like the sky was raining needles. His chest burned like the devil itself was running menacing claws of molten up and down his ribs. It was coming down--his place of living, his place of dwelling, and his place of many blissful moans. His uncanny supply of condoms lost to the incredible power of karma! He felt himself slipping further as his temperature rose to enumerable amounts of numbers. He could only breathe as he felt each twist and crack of wood under the weight of his things and himself. He was bringing it down--the world he build. And for a second, he was thankful that his lighter was in his pocket. It was all he had...from all his past lives... all he had needed until now. He wished he could say something as his iPhone dropped into the two-story abyss below. Because Spade realized something--something dire and important that needed to be said. Like the day of his moment of weakness in front of Shula Brighton. He felt something--something different and unlike many feelings before it. They said love had many forms, but Spade wasn't a master of love; he was the master of love-making. And he only realized it now.

Now of all times did he translate the dormant feeling into a word even more complicated than not-knowing. This was a different kind of love. The kind of love that wasn't lazy or loose. It was dominant--masculine and demanding. It was the reach-out-and-grab-it love--the take-it-before-anyone-else-sees-this-gem feeling--the this-is-mine-and-no-one-else's type of mentality--the I-never-want-to-leave-your-side-or-I'll-die emotion. And Spade wasn't too keen on emotion. He was a man; he didn't cry or go dancing in the street shedding his love for other humans. He maybe bought them a drink and gave 'em a light, but that was as far as he went. He even tended to kick them out of the army so they could go on pilgrimages and get killed out of sight out of mind. You know, that shit. Bastard. He can go die like Markus, Josef, and Ike. If Ike was dead. He was gone again... Maybe he died in the bombs... He tried to clench his fist and suddenly felt cold--metal around his hips, making his belt dig into his belly button. Un. pleasant.feeling...!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Oh okay it was gone. CRASH! ...da fuck? Was that? Was he dead? No...he was still semi-conscious; he just had to open his eyes. But he had been thinking about something important. What was it again? He dug through the tendrils of memory, pawing at the contents that came before his short-term memory failure. Oh...oh...that. He shuddered inwardly, remembering his declarations of manliness that were about to fail drastically. He knew...exactly what he was about to fall into...and it was--it was... Egh. There wasn't a good enough adjective to describe it. It made him angry--it made him a million things at once. It was complicated and he didn't know if she would buy it--if she would stop...being so-- "FUCKING BITCH ASS CUNT MOTHERFUCKING COCKSUCKERS--" Spade didn't need a translator. But he sure as hell came back to himself slightly. It was a battle. Shirley had a stubborn personality too. It...it couldn't be so bad. But he knew that he had already decided. After that night under the covers and finding her still there... He never wanted her to leave.

He just wanted her to chill the fuck out or he would lose it godfuckingdammit. The cold went away and was returned with...hot. "I swear, you Amestrians don't know how to fuckin' party right. Can't even go somewhere nice." Something he understood! Spade managed to open his eyes this time, staring at her with bright green. Dark brown locks of curls splayed across his face in disarray. He didn't have a witty comeback ready so he just laughed. It hurt, but he did it. Fuck luck and the rhyme that came with it. He was only lucky in the slots, with a hand o' cards, and all that jazz. He propped himself up on the backs of his elbows and exhaled a long breath that hitched at the end. He regretted it. Breathing was bitch. And instead of opening his mouth, he tore apart his shirt all Hollywood like because he was just that cool. Except it didn't work. Why was tearing shirts so hard!? It looked easy... He gave a throaty growl that sounded more like a kitten than a lion and began ripping it with his teeth until it was a satisfactory piece untainted by blood, saliva, and/or dirt. Hah! Beat that elements of destruction! Spade could be a good gentleman even whilst nearly dying!

He carefully wrapped it around her arm and tied it tightly, watching her eyes the entire time. His lips found hers in the middle of a street strewn in devastation. It was short...sweet...not lustful. It was unSpade and he didn't know what he was becoming, but he charged into the dark, guns blasting. What better opportunity than now? He cleared his throat and tangles a hand into the long layers of hair about his face, getting it out of his eyes and pulling at it. This indication alone brought to light his struggles and complicated emotions. "Ali, I..." He gave a crooked smile and let go of his hair, playing with her long strands that smelled like Alisa. "I've only known you for a short while, but I already..." his voice wafted like the sound of gravel under a stallion's hooves and then stopped. Silence. The waiting...the cold sweat that was either due to fever or the nightmare of reality. Was he really doing this--taking the step that was never taken before? "I--don't know, but my apartment is already like that so... let's leave Central...together." Plus, the booze was sold out here.

[Alisa Donnikova]

About to shift so both her arms hung over her knees, her shoulder screamed in pain and she growled ferociously, only to be surprised as Spade was suddenly laughing there with his hair in his eyes. And she..... The Great Alisa Donnikova was stunned. HER! STUNNED! By this man that sat before her, bleeding, dirty, and as raggedy as she was. Her brown eyes met his, and this would have shocked anyone but.... she visibly relaxed. All that balled up anger, that tension, that... loathing for everything was just.. gone. And in its place, was this very faint warm smile, the look in her eyes soft. God dammit... What the hell had he done to her? This man, this military leader that she used to worry about due to her work as he sat off in the distance before she even met him. This comrade of chaos and vice, of taking only what you need when you need it before moving on. This....lover. It made some part of her mind recoil and twist at that thought, but.. well... it was true. The fact that she had given two shits when he called, no, when he told her he was shot! The fact she had gone running without a second thought meant... Shit, she was losing her grip. She couldn't call herself a survivalist anymore.

Fuck she was getting weak! Opening could open up all over the place, she was letting her guard down. All for this. Whatever this was. Fuck if she knew, she wasn't good with people! Not like this! This was--Her thoughts stopped as she just sorta froze, watching as he teared away at his shirt with tooth and claw. It was one of those things where you just stop everything because what you just saw was.... was that out there. Huh. Oddly enough.... that was kinda hot...Blinking twice at his antics, she scoffed before falling into a fit of chuckling, taking one last puff on her cigarette before stamping it out beneath her boot. But then her eyes fell upon his bandages. Shit, he was bleeding more now..... She should really get him to someone. That would be best--

WTF?!

Alisa started as he moved close to her to tie up her arm, immediately tensing up from years of instinct and training, her brows furrowing with the wariness of a feral dog. But then brown found green and she stopped again. Wincing, she gritted her teeth and almost opened her mouth, but it was like she just..couldn't...shout. So the beast calmed and lowered her gaze even as she could feel him continuing to watch her till he was done. What did she do? She didn't even have the pain in her shoulder to distract her from thinking anymore as it dulled to a slight throb. And suddenly their lips met, her eyes widening in surprise. It..it...it... What WAS that?! Why did she feel all warm and tingly?! WHAT THE FUCK WAS GOING ON?!?!?! Again she started to open her mouth to shout at him, and again.... She couldn't. And her hands clenched tightly into fists, cracking open that barely scabbing cuts on her hand from when she had gripped that can earlier. Shit... she hadn't even noticed that. Hiding that hand behind her back, she snapped to attention at the nickname. No...No one had done that before... Not since way back then...

Then he was stroking her hair and she tensed up as if she was about to be struck, remembering... Her mother used to do that when she was a young girl, and it had helped her get to sleep. Memories were being called up, old forgotten things, buried things.... Things she had long sense cast aside because what the fuck had they ever done for her?! NOTHING! Nothing but cause trouble. What the hell did she need them for? Forcing herself away from her thoughts, she felt an apprehension rising in her chest, and yet a warmth as she felt his touch against even that part of her body. It was just an extension, it wasn't even flesh. Yet why did she like it so much? He was right, they barely knew each other. She knew next to nothing...."-let's leave Central...together."

Her eyes shot up and met his gaze, time stopping for just that moment. He wanted... She... Leaving together? And then it all hit her at once. Terror. Terror unbridled and wild, raging like a torrent as the love that welled up in her chest battered against it. Her face paled and she began to tremble. He... They.... No danger.. Danger... Don't get close, NEVER GET THIS CLOSE! "Don't fall in love."
She wanted this, she hated it, she wanted to turn him down, she wanted to run till the ends of the earth. Over and over, her body practically frozen in place as she stared at him. Yet her eyes were distant, she wasn't there right now, please leave a message and come back later....

"Spade.." The word was cracked and barely even spoken, just a jumble of vowels and syllables put together to somehow form his name. She couldn't do this... she couldn't do it. No, too many risks... Too many bad endings! Shaking her head, she clutched at it with her bloodied hand, not caring as the warm liquid ran down her skin. It at least offered some color. Shut up shut up SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP!!

Suddenly she pulled out her Cutlass and fired at the air, swearing for a moment she saw an apparition of her father and.... herself... standing right over there. The smoke from her gun rose into the air as she let her hand fall limply to the ground still holding her gun, as if her muscles had just... stopped. "I... I can't... I fucking can't...." She mumbled distantly as she stared at that spot for another good moment. They weren't real... That other her wasn't real and her father was long dead. But Spade.... Spade was real, and he was right there. "I love you Spade but I can't do this..." She whispered as the world began to right itself, her body still trembling as she stared at him with such a longing to (GOD, how she wanted to just go with him....) and yet... such terror. And for the first time, a tear rolled down her cheek.

[Spade Aeries]

He was right. All along he was right about the world. Too cowardly to die--too nose deep in shit to realize it for a second time before making such a mistake as falling in love. He knew it when he heard his name--the name that wasn't his name--the lucky ace of spades. That's who he was and nothing more. It was in the wrong to allow people so close to his heart. Being a lover not a fighter only hurt in the end--hurt and scarred and left no room for more. "Spade.." she uttered in that cracked voice, falling away like sand between his fingers and water alike. "Spade.." she said, and he wished it wasn't his name. "Sakuya..."--her dying words, gurgling blood and losing the world as it was. No more no more no more. And it was over. Over and memories--memories he remembered only for the sake of her. For her and her inability to keep living because she was already bones--buried somewhere far away--somewhere in the wind where he couldn't visit. Those bones were hers, piled high in his mind and only allowing certain things to trickle through. Certain things like Alisa Donnikova; a woman he should have never crossed. It was regret suddenly regret and yet regretting the regret. He wished he hadn't gone to the bar that night... If he had...he should have never spoke to her. Just walk out Aeries! Even alchemy couldn't rewrite the past. But it was better to have met her.

Because now he knew that love was a mistake.

To play the game and lose--to play it again and lose again, meant to leave the table. He stood up. "I love you Spade but I can't do this..." Don't do it, love; no one should have to. To be a man of war meant that he was supposed to be a fighter, but... " I remember.. my grandfather used to tell Aaron and I over and over that you had to be willing to sacrifice as much or more than you expected to receive in life... That equivalent exchange applied to everything in life and not just alchemy..." Shula's voice came to him as a fuzzy blur of meaningful words spiraling at the brink of unconsciousness... He clenched a fist at his side. Equivalent exchange, huh? So what did he get out of all of this? What had he earned from all the death in his life, following him like a cloud of misfortune? It would make any man writhe. Writhe from the thoughts Spade was thinking. He smiled, lifting a hardened thumb to wipe away the stray tear that slipped past her barriers. He smiled, knowing it would soon be over.

He made a woman cry.

He was no longer the man he thought he was--Spade was shell of his glory and falling fast...like Markus. This was the end--the end of Spade Aeries the womanizer. Almost glad to have lost the womanizer mobile in chaos, only wondering in passing if it would ever be found. Seven...his sweet seven that had been through it all. He felt it shatter like a mirror--like he was no longer there. He had become a shadow... to go on meaninglessly until he died of lung cancer--he hoped (because liver cancer made you turn yellow. Spade didn't want to turn yellow). All he could think of doing was finding his rug in the ruins of Central HQ. Maybe they would have a tent for him there... and a doctor that had his prescription handy since...that was lost too. He slipped a hand in his pocket, touching the cold, bent metal of his zippo. "Don't worry," he said, barely hiding the gloom in his words, "I won't force you to. No one should have go through that." Kill it before it starts. Erase it before it's too late. Rid it before the pain. This was the last scar.

He pulled out a bent cigarette from his front pocket and shoved it between his teeth, hand shaking. Green eyes glossed with regret, filling with stormy clouds that wanted to scream. He lifted his lighter up, pushing back sobs. She was the last--she would be the last. But he didn't want to touch her head...feel her hair again brush along the lines in his fingerprints. He would remember it again and again as the moment when love died forever. Forever... It hurt. It hurt and he refused to listen to the toning bells in the dead of night telling him to stop. Stop! Before it too late! There's no going back. Isn't the pain better than a life of solitude? Do you want to drown in alcohol forever? Haven't you suffered enough? Selflessness...sweet generosity. No one should have to wait for their loved on to die in war... It was his mistake to think--to think that-- He flipped his lighter open and lit the cigarette, shutting his eyes, feeling the wetness grow under his eyelids. The Dragon's pulse moaned in his mind, humming despair. She wouldn't remember him. It was simple... two memories... That was all.

And that was all it took to fall in love.

She fainted after his cig sparked to life. He caught her and laid her down somewhere away from his fallen apartment. Her phone which was carelessly tossed was easy to access--and just as easy to erase his name from her phone book and from the recently called list. He went back to the remains of his life and trudged through it, looking at everything he no longer cared about. He found his phone, seeing he had a text from Kallie. He opened it and was overwhelmed. Funny, how work called the moment life fell apart at the seams. RIOTE... their plans and the dates in a rushed message. It made him wonder how...how she received such intell. But no matter. The explayboy would throw himself in the tunnel of work. He would hit the bar only to forget and never go to bed again.

Because that's what it took to lose love a second time.

[EXIT TOPIC]

[Alisa Donnikova]

All of it, every goddamn thing was such a jumble. It was like there was a gaping bullet hole in her chest, and acid was eating away at its edges right as it began to heal. The fear had numbed everything else, the pain of her shoulder, the stinging of her hand as it bled onto the pavement, even the wetness of the tear that rolled down her cheek. Tears..... When had she ever shed tears? She hadn't cried for her father, she hadn't cried for her father... So why now? Why this moment? Why was it all such a fucking clusterfuck?! WHY COULDN'T SHE JUST LET GO?!

And her own words floated back up to the forefront of her mind. She.. loved... him. Unconditionally. Purely. No angles, nothing to gain except... joy. Right? Thats what couples felt right? Some sense of happiness? So why the fuck were they such fuckups? Her eyes snapped back into focus upon him as she felt his calloused touch against her face, following the movement of his hand as he drew his hand back. The tear was gone... WHY WAS SHE CRYING?! Why did she hurt all over? What.... what was this... Everything was moving too fast, and she didn't even have all the pieces. She didn't understand. She was grabbing at air, desperately as if it was all she could cling to.

No longer was she someone who survived purely on their own, leaving everyone else to the dust once she had what she needed. She now knew love. She now understood her parents, in this brief moment it was all clear. How it must have played out, how they met... When they married.... Before, when things had been good. Had been.. happy. A time when there were no arguements, no shouting or throwing of things. When her father didn't waste away and sink further and further into the reality of the world. When....

Memories... They had to go away.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, it was hard to breath. It was as if a great weight had descended upon her, its claws clutching tighter and tighter about her hardened frame. Sheathing her Cutlass back in its holster, the pain in her shoulder rose up and she merely stared at it. She didn't want to curse right now. She just wanted to paint. Right now. Maybe if she could just sort everything out she could go through with this. Maybe if she.... "Don't worry," Raising her brown eyes, she watched him light his cigarette and she didn't even want to light up her own. Her vices were failing her for.... this. The sense of.... emptiness and hurt. God dammit... Was this what her father had been warning her against?

Then it clicked.

He had gotten in. He had broken every single barrier she had put up around herself to keep people away. He alone had made it in and now.... She couldn't even handle that. Not even that elation she felt at his request was aiding her now. There was just... nothing. Her brows began to furrow as she thought she saw something in his eyes, something she knew. Something out of place. Not here. Please not here. "Spade, what is..."

She didn't get to finish that thought. She didn't get to explain anything. She didn't get to say anything one last time.

As darkness cascaded over and through her, she was whisked away through the raging river of her emotions, a peacefulness settling over her. The man she had woken up next to in the morning, the man she had run to find, the man that she... was.... forgetting.........

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A poke.... What the... Who the hell was touching her and--"Fuck that hurts!" She started as she bolted upright, the words murmured as she tentatively touched her shoulder. Wait, why was she bleeding? Where was..... Blinking a few times, Alisa cast her eyes about and saw a rather startled young boy staring at her with fear in his eyes. She was in Central. But why was she in Central again? Oh yeah, she had to lay low... People were trying to give her a new hole in her head to breathe through... That was bad. She liked the number of holes she had right now.

"Hey, kid, get out of here ok? Find your mom or something. I ain't gonna help you." She told him flat out, raising an unsympathetic eyebrow to him as he seemed disappointed and ran off. She didn't have time to help him right... now.... Huh. That was strange. There was a heavyness to her that she didn't remember from before, appearing rather confused at the sensation. Meh, booze could cure that. Glancing down to her cell phone that was still somehow laying there on her, sliding into her pocket as she wondered what the fuck was going on. Why was she god knows where in Central? And who had been messing with her shit? AND WHY THE FUCK WAS SHE INJURED?! The weight in her chest shifted at that thought, casting her eyes about to get SOME sort of sense as to where she was.

Raising an eyebrow to the collapsed apartments behind her, she grimaced and shook her head. Someones ass was going to get beat. For now, she felt compelled to go elsewhere. Maybe Aeru-- Her phone went off, making an eyebrow raise as she wondered who the hell was bugging her-- Frowning, there was a call for aid in Drachma. It was from one of her contacts that she still had there, and she sighed heavily. Drachma..... The land of Fuck All..... Fine. She'd go investigate this. God dammit she didn't miss the cold there.

About to stuff her hands in her pockets, she stopped as she remembered her mysterious injuries, grumbling to herself as she at least lit up a cancer stick to make herself feel better. What the fuck kind of day had this been....

[EXIT THREAD]

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