Sorry it’s taken so long but when writing it I’ve also been ironing out her story. I’ve also written this in a new formatting going over her basics and then going into detail with her backstory.
E!! I said I would post earlier but a got a lot of doodles for y’all ♡ ♡ though they’re oc’s and I know those aren’t nearly as popular as my Invader Zim drawings but IM proud of them and it’s been really fun to work with @keepcharliestudying , @miissmoss , @squangus , @synocola , and 1 more who doesn’t have a tumblr
Sorry for the paragraph here’s my drawings :,) 1/2
The Sin of living: In the beginning there was nothing but agony
Origin to my oc “Sin” from fullmetal alchemist.
The first thing she could ever feel was pure pain encompassing her entire body. The white blinding hot pain of something burning both internally in her veins and externally on her skin. She felt it everywhere. No part of her bandaged body couldn’t feel it as she laid there, still and silent. She tried to convulse, her fingers twitched and tried to grasp something but the pain felt worse that way.
Like her muscles being torn apart and re-stitched all at once
Bones shattering and gluing themselves back together over and over again.
Tendons being ripped to smaller ribbons and then melding back to a stronger string.
Lungs collapsing in on itself and inflating back up with ragged breath.
Heart pumping until it imploded but then came back together to pump once again.
Brain short circuiting with information and flicking on and off with life and death.
Everything just hurts so damn much that she can’t even really process it.
It’s blinding and hot despite the fact she can only see darkness.
Speaking of which, the only thing she can see is the pure empty void of black that surrounds her.
When she opens her eyes there’s little to no difference to when she closes them. After opening them a few times she’s decides to keep them closed, less painful that way then blinking and the exact same thing that’s beneath the darkness of her eyelids.
The darkness is in some ways comforting yet is also scary in what it holds.
The world around her is obscured thus saving her from what it holds but with that comes the unknown. She can’t see what’s waiting for her, who’s waiting for her awakening. That in of itself is scary as a thought, but even more so when she doesn’t know them, let alone know herself and where she was. Of it weren’t for the fact she was laid on a hard solid surface that was smooth beneath her bandaged fingertips she would’ve beloved she was in a void.
An all encompassing void that would swallow her whole.
But no, she was somewhere. The place was unknown but the fact she was laid on something signified she was in a place, one that she didn’t know how she ended up there.
The first thing she could hear was arguing both internally and externally.
Within herself she could feel people? The large mass of them arguing, screaming and sobbing. All their voices merging together into 3 distinct groups that would overpower one another in being the loudest every few moments. They weren’t arguing with one another to be the loudest, or they weren’t doing it intentionally but it felt like it as they overwhelmed her mind.
There was no silence to their voices.
No silence in her own mind.
What didn’t help was that the loud yelling of voices extended outwardly as well. There were voices all around you, some relaxed, some angry and some indifferent.
There was one distinct female voice.
One that was androgynous.
And the others were all distinctly male.
Some of them argued, others made vague comments, one just kept mumbling he was hungry. It was weird and overwhelming as they kept talking over one another.
One commonality though was that they referred to each other by names, by sins.
The voices in her chime in that they’re all things Ishvala warned about. Sins against him that one would have to repent for. Yet they all call each other by these sins.
And oddly enough she thinks they refer to her as one herself, but it seems for her she’s no specific sin in general.
They just seemingly refer to her as “Sin”.
Something that makes the others In her quiet down for a moment before uproar. They all yell, not at her but at what these people are calling her despite the fact these outside forces can’t hear their screaming…but she can. Saying something about how that wasn’t the name given to her by Ishvala. Screaming how dare they call her something with such connotation, something that was an insult to both her and their religion.
Internally like the people in her she feels that the name they call her is wrong.
It doesn’t fit her.
Doesn’t feel right.
Like trying to fit a square through a circle shaped hole.
Or mixing oil with water.
But despite it she can’t remember what her real name is. Can’t figure out what to be called other than the title they call her by.
It feels wrong yes, but what else does she have?
As of now she’s just currently laying in a mixture of pain, confusion and emptiness. By god she felt so empty. Like a hole was ripped through her chest and left gaping to the world to see. Along with that an orchestra of people yell in her soul and her mind has no rest.
It’s too much.
But all she can do is lay there.
Lay there in silence.
She has a mouth but she can’t scream.
Can’t cry for help.
So she lays there for who knows how long.
She lays there in pain.
===
There’s a noise, the sound of something metallic hitting the floor after a long period of external silence (never internal though, the people in her are always there. Always talking, sobbing or yelling, it’s always one of these three). Shoes click across the floor, far away but them progressively get closer and closer until they circle her.
Fear shoots up her in a quick manner, none of the people had ever gotten this close, just kept a distance. But no, this person got close, seemingly observed her in her bandaged up and broken state. It feels like in some areas blood had crusted over the absorbed bandages presumably stained in red.
She hears the person move, going to her side and sitting on the remaining ledge not taken up by her small body. She’s still fearful by having someone close to her but it also feels somewhat comforting in some sense.
“Well shit, didn’t think they’d add on to the family” the voice of this person is masculine and tinged in sarcasm at the word “family”. He said it as if he were muttering a curse, saying a cruel joke that makes him give a bitter chuckle as he seemingly settles his eyes back down on her.
“Hey….hey kid, can you hear me?”
It hurts to move but she ignores the pain of moving her fingers ever so slightly. They twitch, she stretches one up and has it tap down. She expects to meet the hard surface of what’s she’s laid on but instead she meet’s something that’s soft. The man’s hand gently holds her hand, a thumb rubbing over the back of her hand in rhythmic motions. Everything still hurts…but she feels comfort from his actions.
It feels familiar somehow but she can’t put her finger on it.
“Alright that’s good….considering your wrapped to shit in bandages and could barely lift a finger I’m gonna guess you can’t speak. For now two taps for no and one tap for yes, alright?.”
She taps her finger onto his palm.
“Alright good” he has a certain tone in his voice that she can’t yet discern “do you know where you are?”
Two taps.
“Do you know who father is?”
Two taps again
“Well shit, didn’t think you’d essentially be newborn….Anyways do you want me to take you with me? I was originally here to get some of my possessions back but there’s always room for one more”
She thinks for a moment. In her short time being alive so far she’d only known pain and yelling as she lay in discomfort. She could always distantly hear the sounds and voices of others nearby but not once had they addressed her as he did. As of now he held her hand, he addressed her instead of letting her lay there in silent pain. Along with that there was…confusion on her end by what he meant by “newborn”. She couldn’t remember anything yes, but at the same time she knew somehow that she had a life before this. A name, a family, an identity. The voices and souls housed within her tell her that, some more in detail than others yet never enough to give her an idea of who she was.
Even though he just met her, he began to try and ease her comfort. She eases into his comfort as do the voices who encourage her to grab his hand and run.
One tap
“Heh” he lets out a small huff and she could practically imagine the smirk on his face, “somehow I expected that” his tone makes something in her feel…warm, makes the edges of her mouth twitch with unknown emotion.
She’s lifted up from the hard table she laid on, the man’s arms holding her as if she were glass. With the little movements she can make she leans into him, into the comfort of his hold and security of his arms. He holds her with comforting arms, keeping her close to his chest as she leans into it. He gives a small chuckle that’s good hearted, voice filled with something she can’t yet discern yet feels warm and welcoming.
“We’re gonna have to make the break for it now. You’ll be safe though, no one touches my possessions without getting their asses handed to them”
“Possession” is a word she feels familiar with in a bad context yet as he utters this to her Implying she is a possession to keep and covet it feels less ominous and more…comforting. The way in which he calls her this feels more protective more than anything, like a promise to her that everything will be ok as long as she’s with him. He gives the silent promise of protecting, of kinship if she became a “possession” of his. Well, perhaps not even “became” since by how he says this he’s already made up his mind that she’s sticking with him from now own ever since she accepted his offer. Yet she’s more than willing to accept this, especially as it feels as if he will be there thick and thin for her, and if he’d do that for her then she’d return the favour back.
“Equivalent exchange”
The two words ring out in her head, tinged with nostalgia and familiarity foreign to her mind. The voice sounds so familiar yet so foggy, distant and crackling beneath the onslaught of other voices in her mind. She feels as if instinctively she knows that voice though, or at least she should know it. The sound of it alone wrapped her mind in a blanket of warmth and joy that she couldn’t process.
A small groan leaves her mouth, the first thing she’s uttered since…well existing? She’s not sure though if the better term would be reborn. At the sound though the man holds her a little closer as if to try and ease her wounds. It doesn’t ease the pain but it does ease her mind, it helps alleviate the voices in her soul and mind to quiet sobs.
“Get some rest kid. When you wake up I’ll explain everything to you”
With as much movement as she can she nods. Properly closing her eyes beneath the bandages that obscure her vision, the darkness welcoming her back into its oblivion and void.
===
When she wakes up she sees the face of a man, a man with glasses obscuring his eyes, a smirk and black pointed hair. His eyes beneath his glass meet her own and she can see a purple hue from them.
“Well, well, well, an Ishvalan. Didn’t expect that.”
The voice she recognizes from moments before her sleep says. This was him in the flesh, smirk she could practically hear in his voice now visible for her to see. She tries to respond, to get up but she can’t lift herself up despite her efforts. Especially not when he gently presses her back down into the bed she now realized she was laying in.
“Ey, calm down spitfire. Moving around will damage ya more, and I don’t like my possessions banged up” his tone is stern but she can feel there’s real worry in it. She relaxes into the soft and warm sheets of the bedding, realizing there’s no use in both fighting her own exhaustion and him. “Good. Now, let’s get to the basics. I’m greed, and you’re…well I’m not exactly sure what sin you are but you’re like me, a homunculus. We’re artificial beings created by “father” to be his henchmen. But as you can see I’m more of my own boss than anything” he explains all of this as if she understands a word of it, yet somehow it makes sense in a weird way.
“Art….artificial?” It comes out as a quiet raspy wheeze but he catches onto her question. Greed nods, pointing a finger at himself and then at her. “Well kinda? It’s weird but we essentially have a human body we inhabit as a vessel that’s accepted by the philosophers stone. Kinda like a parasite…if you know what that is” the way he says this feels wrong to her… or at least not fully true for her. She can’t remember who she was before this but she knows she was someone. She can feel it, not only with her mind but also her heart.
“…remember” she croaks.
“Remember?” He parrots back, tilting his head in confusion.
“Remember human?” It hurts to speak but she tries to pry answers.
“You askin if I remember my human host’s memories?”
She shakes her head no with difficulty, she pushes through and points at herself. Her muscles aching and feeling as if they were ripping and healing with every movement, vocal cords snapping and then reattaching. She’s pushing herself past her limits but she needs to push out these words to make him understand, make him know what she’s going though.
“Human….can’t remember but still human and….not human”
Tears line her eyes and Greed looks at her with a mix of emotions. His amethyst coloured ones looking down from the glasses that slide down the bridge of his nose. They swirl with curiosity as he stared at her intently, seemingly processing her words. She stares just as intently waiting for him to react with something. Maybe rage or denial but instead she watches him smile, and crane his head back in a laugh as his hand pushes up past the glasses and into his spiky black hair.
“Well shit” he muses with both a chuckle of curiosity and amusement “you really are somethin special. Good thing I grabbed you then, not sure what they’d do to ya if your telling me what i think you’re tellin me. I know for sure Father would not be happy nor the others” he chokes out another laugh “god envy would throw a damn fit”.
After a few more moments of laughter that dies down to a few chuckles he looks at her again. Her eyes and his own meeting once more, his hand finding itself in the pure white hair that obscured some of her view.
“Well kid, you’re now under my possession and they’re not taking you back. Got it?” His tone is semi-serious but also has the undertone of something protective once again. A vow to her and himself. She nods.
“Do you remember your name?”
She shakes her head, instead answering “can’t remember real name….called me sin”.
“Sin, huh?” He muses, hand gently tussling her hair in a playful manner. “You ok with that till we figure out your real name?” The question makes her eyes water again, the implication on this being he’d help her, that she’s not alone.
Not alone again to writhe in pain and confusion at her existence.
Not alone to be in agony trying to figure out who exactly she was.
She nods, neck feeling as if the vertebrae were snapping in and out of place.
“Well Sin, rest for now. We got a long road ahead of us, but eventually, we’ll be on top of the world together. Both with everything our hearts desire” he speaks these words with the whole belief that he’ll achieve it. And despite how ridiculous the statement is.
7. there’s a magic item (or technological innovation, or special resource) made just for them—what is it?
oh boy.
DANICA: Ryan already took care of this one for me - the Morning Bell, a magic item that lets her deal radiant damage with toll the dead and also banish creatures that get hit by that cantrip. It's got a sick inscription on it.
GIN: a grimoire that records in comedic detail the funniest deaths in the world, in a ranked list, which regularly updates itself
DR. TABRIZI: honestly I think the Privacy Field Projector is a pretty good one for her. the seeming omniscience of so many powerful fey really got to her, it was such a relief to have that thing under the hill. a holy cell phone that Cassandra knew how to use would be pretty good, too. but she's already cooking up a not-holy version of that in her head anyway.
DIANA: Literally just punk clothes/bulletproof vests that continue to fit her when she goes wolfmode. That's it, that's all she wants.
UBEA: scroll of reverse time to before the dawnbringers came to her fucking city
