whatwas | [Accidental Video]

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[Accidental Video]

[Horst has been up late playing around with the PCD, trying to figure out more of it. But he looks exhausted, and not just because he's tried to stay up.

He puts his hand on the door of his makeshift bedroom, but decides at the last minute not to open it; the sun's still up. Why is it still up?]

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[He considers not telling, but it's not like anything he says will be worse than a first impression from Johannes himself] Books about necromancy, actually. Not really an interest I share with him, but he's my brother so...what could I do?

[He laughs] I hope you never do go to prison for him. It's not nearly as fun as it sounds; that's eight years of my life I would gladly have put to better use. What does an alchemist do, exactly? I've only heard of it as turning sand into gold and that sort of thing.

I've heard of that... [And oddly, he doesn't look all that upset over it. Just a little interested.]

Oh -- no, we'd have broken out quickly, knowing us. [Al hides a guilty laugh.] Or been broken out. Roy wouldn't have let us stay in there, he'd find some type of loophole.

Ah, the best way to describe it is that I can manipulate physical matter through the force of my will. Usually I use it to repair and build things. But no, I can't make sand it to gold. I could make it into rock or glass, but gold is something completely different than sand.

[The word loophole is a big enough clue to draw a laugh] I need to cozy up to more lawmen, I think!

I hope I get to see some of that someday. It sounds fascinating.

If it was eight years... [Al gives him an incredulous look, but smiles again.] Well, it's not something you'll have to worry over right now.

It's not hard. I could show you right now, if you like.

Well, eight years before my brother broke me out. [Small smile; he's not sure he wants to explain the reality of the 'prison'.]

Certainly! I'm all ears. And...eyes.

... oh gosh. I hope you were all right?

[But. He'll shift and take out a small bag, upending it and carefully shaking out all shapes and sizes and colors of broken glass shards onto the table. It looks like he's been collecting them. Al makes sure he has enough, shakes out a little more-

Before he claps his hands together as if he's praying. He sets his fingers to the table and the glass takes on a bright, electric blue glow. Al's eyes look peaceful, and the glass melts in the air before working and twirling slowly to form a seamless globe. The colors have melted into wispy swirls.]

Of course! Right as rain.

[He watches intently then, and he's grinning by the end. He gives Al a very impressed nod] That's much more impressive than anything the 'alchemists' at home could do.

Ah, if I found enough scrap metal, could you make a sign...?

I'm glad. ... I couldn't take years away from Ed.

[Al grins and balances the globe carefully in his hand, before reaching out and putting it in a small basket of others, glancing into the little bag of glass.]

Of course. Scrap metal isn't a problem for me to find, either. What would you like on it?

I'm planning on opening a nightclub, but I think I'll just call it 'Saloon'. You know, sort of as a tip of the hat to days long gone? Would that be too much...?

Of course not. Would you like to sketch out what you'd like? Any sort of design? Being artistic isn't my strongest skill.

Certainly! I probably won't be able to until after I feel well again; I'll contact you then, if that's all right?

That's fine. I hope you do feel better.

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