#canisfuria

[cromwellharvests]

“ —I seem t’ remember th’ dorm you lived in havin’ some fairly strict rules... are you allowed t’ have a phonograph in your place? ”

@canisfuria​  ♥’ed

[galeleads]

🎶 ✨ Go little Rockstar ✨ 🎶

[flameleadsarc]

@canisfuria​ met Madam Christmas:

( @ chris ) The confusion across the man's face is palpable. Colonel Mustang had said that the building at this address was a bar: not too far a cab ride from work, out on the west side. What he'd failed to mention to his sergeant was what kind of bar it was. And though it isn't so apparent from the outside, Fuery connects the dots following the third young woman he's greeted by.

It takes a short while-- several greetings, a few introductions, and one politely-declined invitation later-- but eventually, he's guided towards his goal: the proprietor. She appears uninterested, leaned against the counter as Fuery shuffles over. And, hoping he doesn't sound as frazzled as he feels, he clears his throat, and extends an envelope her way.

"Uh, this is from C-- Colonel Mustang, who sends his apologies. Something urgent came up, and he won't be able to make his... appointment."

A large fire breaking out in the southern part of the city was not a typical emergency that required Colonel Mustang’s attention. Normally, he investigated fires after the fact, only doing so if specifically asked. But, the fire department was spread thin as it was, and he might be able to pinpoint what started this fire---or who. The crime rate in Central continued to steadily rise these days...

He wrote his note to the Madame in a rush, scribbling it on a spare piece of paper and handing it to Master Sergeant Fuery as he and the Lieutenant rushed out the door. All he told him was that it was a bar on the west side of Central. No further information was needed, right?

Upon seeing the poor sergeant enter her establishment, Chris could tell almost exactly what happened. His uniform made it clear who he worked for, and the expression he wore---he didn’t expect to be sent here, did he? Well, at least Madeline helped guide him to the right place. Most of the girls didn’t know the names of Roy’s team or what they looked like. Even then, every single one of them had an alias as a precaution.

This one was Master Sergeant Fuery, right? The youngest of his team, the one Roy snatched up before anyone else back east saw what they missed. Sharp as a tack with a knack for commandeering technology to do his bidding---and the world hadn’t completely killed his joy yet. With the same eyes as her nephew, dark and calculating, Chris gave him a quick once-over as one hand took the note.

Typical. She thought she taught this boy proper penmanship. Clearly, that didn’t stick. Still, she managed to read his note with an alternative date and time, written in Cretan per status quo. With a sigh, she folded the note, pulled out her lighter, and lit the note on fire. In seconds, it burned to ashes in her ash tray.

“Not like him to cancel last minute, so it must have been important.” Shifting her stance, she looked to Fuery and offered him a smile. “You can relax, Sergeant. Why don’t I get you something to drink? If you’re working for Colonel Mustang, chances are you need one.”

[reigningsniper]

canisfuria asked: a platonic kiss just meant to express overwhelming emotion // [ or rather, "a kiss on the forehead that says 'stay safe'," before moving out for the Promised Day. down south, they say 'goodbye' with a kiss, and since kain grew an inch or two out there, reaching her forehead shouldn't be an issue. ♥ ]

      Riza had long ago adjusted to the dank, musty air wafting around them. The tunnels were drafty, and they could hear the moving air spanning infinitely in either direction. One their entrance, the other towards their quest. 

      The darkness that waited for them was engulfed in even more untold outcomes now that Grumman had been so obtrusive with his method of knocking Bradley and Selim out of play. It only added odds against them, and Riza wasn’t entirely appreciative of that fact. But as it were, Grumman was not here. Spending moments wallowing in frustration would do them no good, so they elected to move forward. As always.

      Mustang turned to lead them towards their charge. In their final moments of discussion, Riza had sat on a sturdy crate. She rises to follow behind, adjusting her shoulder holsters, and grabbing her rifle in a series of fluid movements. By time she’s a few steps along, passing by Breda, then Fuery-.

      His hand is on her shoulder, pulling back when she halts. This close she realizes that he has an inch or two on her now. In the face of everything this last year, she’s forgotten how young he was. So it goes when Edward and Alphonse were so deeply engrained into this mess. Fuery was a trained soldier. Kind and young, he didn’t face the same struggles as the Elric brother’s did.

      But she stops, feeling Breda move past. He casts a glance back their way, but continues along with the Colonel. 

      Fuery presses a kiss against her forehead, which stops her in her tracks, even moreso than she already had been. She takes the hand that had been placed on her shoulder, giving it a strong squeeze. They had each other, and infinite amounts of backup. Possibly more if certain parties come into play. She’s hoping for some more than others. 

       Today might end in chaos and their downfall, but it  could also lead to them fighting tooth and nail and climbing ahead victorious. She gives one last squeeze and a resolute nod. Time to see what would be indeed promised to them all.

[cavaliiere-a]

        Havoc held no personal vendetta against Fuery-- he was actually quite fond of the lad. However, as they say ‘ all’s fair in love & war ‘ & in that moment, it was most assuredly  WAR.  Thus the soldier knelt, collecting a nice chunk of snow that he would mold into a sloppy circular shape. Gaze narrowed upon the ‘ target ‘ & with deadly precision, he  launched  the snowball at his unsuspecting comrade.      @canisfuria​

[wyrdify]

@canisfuria​ asked: "Hey Colonel, how old were you when you started learning alchemy?"

"I started getting interested in it when I was probably ten or so,” he answered, hand to his chin as he thought more about his answer, “School didn’t hold my attention that well, so I checked out books from the nearest library. Alchemy was something I heard about, and I saw it a few times, so I wanted to try my hand at it. It wasn’t until my early teens when I started getting better at it.”

And, of course, it didn’t keep him out of trouble. No, he found new ways to cause trouble now that he knew the basics of alchemy.

“Chr---my foster mother saw I had a knack for it, so she sent me to study under an alchemy teacher outside of Central. Did a lot of odd jobs around the city to pay for it, but it was worth it.” His eyes looked to the floor as he thought of those first months spent studying under Berthold Hawkeye. He learned quite a bit under the man’s tutelage, but, as a human being... that was a thought best left alone.

“I joined the military with the intention of using my alchemy to help people. Became a State Alchemist after I graduated from the academy. Back then, I was one of the youngest to ever take the exam. I think General Leota was younger than me when she took the exam, but I could be wrong.”

[flyinbanachab]

Comfortember 12: Emotional Support Pet

Note: this is @canisfuria‘s story. I’m just living in it.

Breda's day started like most other days in Lowestown: cold coffee from a cart and a just-barely-not-hot-yet walk to the field office. Unfortunately, the normalcy train got completely fucking derailed the moment he threw open the office doors. Rather than the expected smattering of waves and 'good mornings', he was greeted by a snarling mass of fur.

With an extremely undignified yelp he leapt away, cold coffee gone sailing across the room, diving to put a desk between him and the fangs, shouting a reflexive, "Goddammit, Hayate--!" But no. This dog was much too small to be Hayate. Hayate was sleeping at Riza's feet. Same color, but this was a different fucking dog. A puppy, actually. A puppy which was now jumping all over him and running around in circles and yapping its stupid little head off. Breda stepped backward and the thing followed him.

"Hey, what the actual fuck?!"

"Haha, Connie, no, down!" Fuery said, jumping up to corral the beast. It immediately abandoned its game of "attack Breda" for a new game of "flee Fuery", and the two ran laps around the office, apparently oblivious to how utterly ridiculous they looked. Breda slouched into his chair, scowling. Hawkeye reached over and patted his shoulder. He glared at her.

Finally, Fuery cornered the thing, scooping it up with a grin. "This--" he said, struggling to maintain a hold on the flailing, lunging furball, "this is Concorde Blue." His eyes sparkled as he added, "She's mine."

Well, shit.

Look at him. He's happier than he's been in-- ok, it's not like Fuery'd been SAD exactly, but, subdued, ever since the fucking trenches. Like low clouds blocked the sun from his psyche. They hadn't talked about it, but... they didn't have to. Everyone understood.

But look at him now. He's grinning, laughing, looking so much like that bright-eyed kid who used to man the radio--what are you supposed to say to that? You gonna take that away from him? Tell him havin one dog in the office is hell enough already?

"She's an emotional support animal," Hawkeye said gently.

Breda pinched the bridge of his nose. Course it was. Cherry on the fuckin sundae. Even if he was heartless enough to make the demand, legally, he had no right to banish the stupid thing from the office.

Well.

Well... look at him.

"I swear to god, if that thing, fuckin, pees on me..." he grumbled, pointedly pulling a folder from his inbox.

Fuery doesn't even look up. All his attention is focused on the fiend in his lap.

And he's smiling.

[sgtbrosh]

[ @canisfuria and i have some thoughts on karley kain and miscellaneous k’s ]