“prosthetic”
Send “prosthetic” for an AU where my muse has a prosthetic limb.@burningflamesofhell
Riza stared down at it. It. It didn’t feel like her, like it was apart of her. Winry had told her that she would grow more comfortable with it,but right now it still felt very alien to her. A shiny, metal arm and foot, onethat reached to her thigh. It gleamed up at her. She stared at it. She couldsee it, she could move it, although not easily yet, and she could sort of feelit, although it wasn’t the same. Her new automail leg.
Memories pulled at her as she stared at it, saw the reflection ofthe light in the metal.
She replaced the clip in her gun. This was not going how it wassupposed to. Yes, she knew that not everyone was happy with their presence in Ishval, but they had met with the elders, they had worked with the people, they had explained what they wanted to do. They knew that not everyone was happy with them being there, even if their intentions were good, but they had still never expected something like this.
This group was too well armed. There were too many of them.Even with the Colonel’s flame alchemy and the rest of their team, this was morethen they had expected. Mustang was aiming his flames and precisely aspossible, trying to keep damages and deaths to a minimum. Riza had his back, asusual, trying also to keep her shots to non-lethal areas.
Riza took advantage of a lull in the action to look around, to tryto asses the situation--and that was when she saw it. “Colonel!” shecalled out, pointing toward a small grenade launcher that was being set up. Heturned, but she had been too late in warning him. It fired before he could sendup flame to stop them. Riza had seen where it was aimed, though, and she wasalready in in motion.
Running as fast as she could, she threw herself in front of him, trying to push him out of the way. The grenade didn’t hit them--but it did hit the crumbling wall that was next to them. She had managed to get him out of the way, but she herself couldn’t move in time, and the wall fell on her.
After that, all she could remember was pain, crushing pain, radiating through her leg. Voices yelling over her, more pain as she felt things being moved, the Colonel over her, Havoc tying a belt around her leg painfully tight, and her hands curling into the Colonel’s jacket, as tears fell and waves of pain washed through her.
With an audible gasp she pulledherself out of the memory, and looked away from the leg--her leg--breathinghard. After a moment, she looked back at it, focusing enough on it to flex the foot, and took a breath. She couldn’t let this control her. She wouldn’t let itcontrol her. The Colonel was coming to pick her up today. If she could return to Central, then she was that much closer to returning to active duty.



















