[Action]

[corruptedsouls]

[Tobias has been feeling a little creative lately. How? Well... he filled his side of his dorm with pictures of his family -- Grell, Espio, Marco, and even some of Whitebeard, after getting the description from Marco again -- and now he's working on the people around Garden.

If you walk through the Quad, you might feel the teen's eyes on you as you walk past. Anyone who comes into view is being drawn in the sketchbook he has, a quick little pencil drawing that none the less is enough for him to remember them by. Of course, he only knows a few people around here, so most of the drawings go unlabeled.

He's immensely absorbed in this, paying attention to little else but the paper and his current subject.]

Comments

[corruptedsouls]

[He blinks a little, but doesn't seem bothered by it.]

I'm 16.

[rewritethis]

[As it happens, he can't really tell how tall Toby is just from the way the kid is sitting, so all he does is look extremely sceptical.] ...Right.

[He straightens up.]

Well, good luck with that. Would've thought you'd want to add more names than that to make a useful memory aid, but if you're having fun, what do I care?

[Because indifference has to be the only reason his name is missing, of course. How could anyone not have heard of him by now?]

[corruptedsouls]

[The way Tobias tends to hunch in on himself defensively, almost like a porcupine, probably doesn't help either.]

I don't know people's names or I'd write them down.

[He looks really sad about that.]

...What's yours?

[rewritethis]

[Ed frowns, disappointed, and - without warning, without answering Tobias' actual question - makes a swipe for the pencil himself. Quit (probably) inadvertently stomping on his ego, kid!]

[corruptedsouls]

[The pencil is easy to swipe, and Tobias just blinks a little unnervedly at Ed.]

[rewritethis]

[After claiming the pencil, he attempts to roughly flick back through the sketchpad, hunting for Tobias' sketch of him.] Well, I can go one better than just telling you.

[corruptedsouls]

[Tobias removes his hands, letting Ed flip through the pad without much difficulty.

Ah, there's your picture!]

[rewritethis]

[Once he's found the picture, Ed starts to furiously scribble in the corner of the page. He takes somewhat longer than most people would need for a simple signature, though. In fact, whatever he's drawing, it looks... circular?]

[corruptedsouls]

[This gets a very curious look from him, Tobias trying to peer at what he's drawing without getting in his way.]

[rewritethis]

[Hopefully he's not peering too closely; once Ed is finished (it doesn't take long), he drops the pencil onto the floor and presses his fingertips to the edge of the circle, which immediately and noisily flares bluish-white. The graphite on the page shimmers as its chemical composition begins to change.

Within moments, the sketch seems to have coloured itself in. And Ed, going by the look on his face, seems to be waiting for a reaction.]

[corruptedsouls]

[He's not disappointed. Tobias' eyes widen and his jaw drops when it changes, looking to Ed in utter awe.]

That was amazing! How'd you do that?

[rewritethis]

[Ed's grin widens. Finally, a correct answer!]

I said I could go one better than telling you I'm the best damn alchemist you're ever going to meet, didn't I?

[He puffs himself up into a dramatic (and self-satisfied) pose, pointing a thumb towards himself.]

The name's Edward Elric. Now you'll remember it.

[corruptedsouls]

Edward... Yeah! I'll remember!

[He's looking at the page in amazement, poking the drawing a bit.]

Can you show me how to do that?

[rewritethis]

[The question jolts Ed out of his basking. He tries not to show it, though - his grin doesn't falter for more than a split second, and comes back almost in full force.] Why? You interested? 'Cause I'm telling you, it's not easy.

[corruptedsouls]

I am, and that's okay. [Really, he's not used to having... anything be easy.] I want to learn how to do it.

[rewritethis]

[Well, damn. He'd like the chance to show off and maybe scrape back a little respect around here, of course he would, but... there's the small matter of how it wouldn't actually work. And then, eventually, he'd have to explain why...]

Actually, no, forget it. You don't look like the type.

[corruptedsouls]

What do you mean?

[rewritethis]

You wouldn't get it.

[And he walks away, trying not to look like he's in a hurry.]

[corruptedsouls]

...Maybe I would. I know a lot of things people don't think I do...