a_sin_for_him | 001

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001 | Voice

[Nothing makes any sense whatsoever. Lust feels like she's in a radio drama only she doesn't have the script and everyone's speaking a different language. She understands, but understanding doesn't help her make sense of it any. How she got here or why. And the spherical blue abomination she's found herself with looks more like something that should be on a little girl's toy chest, not following her. It isn't as though he's difficult to take care of, or even an annoyance, she only questions the judgement of placing any living thing in her care.

She's thankful at least, for the fact that she's finally escaped her master's reach. Strange as this place is, she's no longer a tool for some miserable husk of a woman who should have been long dead. And she's thankful also for the information device, even without much context for the information it holds. And the fact that it can apparently be used as a communication device. Most comfortable with telephones, she initiates the voice function.]

Much as I hate to simply call out to the void, I'm afraid it's likely my most fruitful option.

Do I understand that I'm expected to work?

[She's never held down any sort of job in her life. How did one even get a job?]

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Maybe. But that's my Sin, isn't it? I'm Greed. I care too much. There are two people who have betrayed me. But I can't...

I can't truly hate them.

[Greed doesn't either, really. The only person he's ever loved is Dante and that was a terribly one-sided thing.]

I...

[He's honestly never thought about it like that before.]

How do creatures like us ever blend into humanity? Even now, even in this place that has made me human, I...

I don't know what it's like to be human. I can't remember.

That's not something you should regret. You ask what it is to be human, even after you express such a human thing as so deep an attachment that even betrayal can't kill it? We aren't supposed to be able to feel those things. We aren't supposed to have the ability to care, or to regret, or to to feel guilty, or to love...

[Lust is almost angry at him. Doesn't he understand what he's saying? The sentiments he's honestly expressing?]

I've never known what it is to be human before. But it doesn't feel any different.

[He's not aware of it, not really.]

It's because of how we were made, I think. We wear the faces of the dead. We carry some of their memories.

The second betrayal is what will send me to my death, and yet I... if I saw him... if he came here...

I don't know what I'd do.

Ask him why, maybe? Ask him why he would betray me for a chance to run back to his old master who had thrown him away? But then. I did the same thing as him, the first chance I got.

Maybe I'm more human than I want to admit.

But they're our faces now. The dead are gone. Why do we have to live beneath their ghosts for all time?

[These things have been weighing on Lust for some time, were some of her last thoughts before coming to this place. She's never been able to have this sort of raw and honest discussion with another of her own kind before, and she's frightened by the strength of emotion it's stirring in her.]

It doesn't matter what they do, if we love them. How they hurt us or cast us aside or deny us. It isn't something we can control.

Maybe we all are.

[Oh wow.

That was way more transparent he realized. For her to say that, when the thought had never once entered his head.]

Love... him?

What?

I... I...

We-- it wasn't... it wasn't like that.

[There's a dry pause. Lust is glad this is audio only, so Greed can't see her flat expression.]

You aren't the only one of us who knows what it feels like.

[OKAY MOVING ON IMMEDIATELY]

I know.

How can I not? Envy and I were close, once upon a time.

Envy and I have always been close.

[And there was Lujon. And Scar. She feels things, she always has. And there are the memories. But there's a disconnect, like they belong to someone else. No more have come forth, just by regaining humanity.]

What does it even mean, to have a soul? If it isn't the capacity for emotion, or the capability for compassion, what is it? What sets us apart aside from our flesh?

I don't know. When souls are real, tangible things... When you can hold them in your hand, feel the life force pulse like a beating heart...

I don't know what makes us different. If we can act as humans act, if we can feel emotions. Sorrow, anger, joy... love.

If we were truly soulless, I don't think we would have that sort of capacity. I think then, we really would be mindless puppets for Dante.

But we're not. Because we're still people.

I sometimes wonder.... what we would be like, if we hadn't been brought up the way we were. By her. As monsters and soulless things taught to hate ourselves and what we are.

Alchemists claim the opposite. That we aren't people at all. Just imitations. But aren't we born the same as anything else? Out of blood and flesh and pain and a need to continue life?

Of course we are.

Alchemists are wrong. We may be kept alive by the stones and held together by the arrays on our bodies but we're still alive. At least in a manner of speaking.

Raised to know love instead of hatred... maybe it would prevent us from traveling down the road of scorning humanity.

Even the man I knew-- the one who betrayed me, didn't really understand that. I don't think he could. I don't think it was out of malice, not really. It's just the way he is.

You know...

You're not what I thought you'd be.

Yeah? I always try and surprise people.

I've never met anyone who understood me before. Listened to me, but not understood. Or would admit to thinking about the same things I do.

I had a very long time to think about a lot of things.

Pity we didn't meet sooner, under better circumstances.

I'm not sure things would have gone well if we had, but at least we would have understood each other better.

I doubt they would have. But maybe I would have started to think about things sooner than I did. I don't know. Maybe things happen the way they're supposed to.

It's funny the things we regret.

It is, isn't it?

And there are plenty of things that I regret.

But that's another notch that makes us people and not mindless theoretical dolls.

The answers can't ever be easy, can they?

At least we're lucky. We get the chance to look for them still, if we want.

Envy said he was happy here.

We do.

He's been here a very long time. I'd believe he's found happiness.

[But there's the unstated sentence there: Greed hasn't.]

Only three years or so. That's a promising number, especially considering the subject under discussion.

[The unspoken statement that she considers herself far more mentally and emotionally stable than Envy had been in their homeworld. And Greed seems to be, as well.]

It is, isn't it?

It would seem that the odds are in our favor.

There are two members of the Amestrian military here, for what it's worth. One is from our world, though I'll be honest I only saw him briefly. The other is some sort of parallel version of the man I knew but he's very different in personality.

Couldn't tell you much about either of them, but the parallel man was the one who clued me in on the fact that the versions of us he knew were completely different people.

Though apparently even the "other" me still refused to play by the rules.

Thank you, that's helpful to know.

I'm still trying to understand this idea of other versions of ourselves. How different can they really be?

I'm not sure. He was extremely vague on the matter.

The impression I got was that the homunculi of his world are not a product of human transmutation.

The leader is also not Dante, but some figurehead known as Father-- which I wasn't told directly, but gathered from the fact that he referred to the group as a "family" and it seemed more literal than not in a sense.

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