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The gigantic wooden doors opened, not even half way, and a girl slid effortlessly through the small gap. In the room with her was a long table, with three people whose faces could not be seen in the almost darkness sitting behind it on wooden chairs. The middle of the three beckoned her closer with a hand gesture, and she did in a medium pace. The bottoms of her sandals clacked loudly on the floor as she moved, and the girl thought that they weren’t the best choice of footwear for the occasion. She didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, however, and continued to make her way to the table.
When she finally was before the able, she realized how long the trek really was, and how pointless it was. With a huff, she fell into the chair, arms crossed, and her back slumped over into a hunch, her long brown hair falling over her shoulders in a matted bundle. She really needed to brush that every once in a while. Her train of thought was interrupted by the clearing of the throat of the person to the girl’s left.
“We are glad you made it, and happy that you could come on such short notice. Now that you are present, we will start the questions.” The man said in a calm voice, which was replied with a grunt from the girl in the chair opposite.
“Yes, well let’s start off with something easy. Your name, perhaps?”
It was well to know that the trio before the girl already knew her name, or they would have no way of contacting her in the first place, but it was probably for their records, and she answered without hesitation.
“Who says anything’s easy?” She remarked with a smirk to ruffle their feathers. However, they remained unshaken. With a sigh, she gave them what they were after.
“My name’s Demitri Emerson Saboren and I am well aware that it is a male name. I have lived with it for a long time, and sort of figured it out. However, I hardly ever let anyone call me that, and unless you want a fork in your eye, I suggest you call me Demi. Much more feminine, wouldn’t you agree?” Demi said, although more interested in gnawing at her thumb nail very… femininely, than talking to a bunch of people that she had hardly met. The scratching of a pen was heard, before the next person asked a question.
“How old are you?” They said, and Demi was highly surprised to find out it was a woman. With short black hair and a very square jaw, they could have as easily passed off as a man.
“Well let’s see,” Demi began, counting off on her fingers. “Last birthday I celebrated was for my eleventh, and that would have been… about four or so years ago, so I would have to say I’m around about fifteen, give or take a few months.”
“Fifteen…” The manly woman repeated to herself while taking her turn of writing down Demi’s details. As she wrote, Demi wondered how long this was going to take; she had to get back to Rem soon. She didn’t trust that colonel with her…
Rudely interrupting her train of thought for a second time, the woman in the middle decided that this time was better suited for more pointless questions.
“May I please have you’re height and weight?” She said, uninterested, much like Demi. In mock surprise, she clapped a hand over her mouth.
“No, you most certainly may not! What kind of question is this?” She said in a whispery voice, in mock outrage. The man-woman looked unimpressed. Demi raised her hands in surrender.
“Okay, okay! I’m about a meter seventy, a meter seventy-five, and I weigh ten thousand kilograms!” Demi shouted enthusiastically, throwing her hands in the air. The interviewer raised an eyebrow, clearly seeing through Demi’s rouse. Demi shrugged.
“What? I’m fat.” The interviewer sighed and wrote down Demi’s height, neglecting to put her weight. It was obvious she wasn’t going to budge about that. Staring at the bored interviewer, Demi chewed the inside of her lip, and got out of her seat
“Look, I don’t want to be here, and it’s obvious that you don’t want to be here, so let’s just both go out and get some lunch. Maybe a few san—“
“Sit.” Demi poked her tongue out at the woman who had interrupted her, and walked back to her chair and sitting down hard. She immediately regretted it, however, as the chair was a strong, solid wood, ant her backside was not. She gave a yelp, but dared not to stand back up again.
A bald man to Demi’s right interrupted Demi’s and the female interviewer’s death stare match with a quick clearing of his throat.
“Moving on.” He said quietly, but still officially. “Now Demit—I mean Demi, please, tell us about your life so far.”
“Uh uh uh. What did I say about Demitri? It’s Demi. Say it with me, Deh – mee. Okay, good.” Demi scolded the person who asked that question much like a mother would scold their child if they stole a cookie from the cookie jar, but quickly moved on to telling them about her life, even though they were total strangers.
“Well, I guess I should start at the beginning, which would be Creta. I spent the first seven or so years of my life there, on a house on a hill, overlooking the village. We were not royalty or anything, but we were a very well respected family amongst our neighbors, for on my father’s side, we had four generations of roots in Creta. On my mother’s side it was a different story, however. My mother was born in Creta, but her mother was Ishbalan. This may not seem like a big deal, but much like here in Central, the Cretians despised people that weren’t of their own blood, and it didn’t matter how high classed my family was, we were run out of the country.
“We had no choice but to flee to the motherland, Ishbal, which is where I spent the next year of my life. From a young age, my father taught me alchemy in secret, as it was a taboo thing in my new home. I don’t want to brag, but being taught at such a young age had a tremendous effect on my alchemical studies in the present. I got really good. Although we were safe in Ishbal, there were still dangers. When I was still an infant, Special Forces from your country infiltrated a temple and slaughtered our priests. It escalated from then on in. I was not allowed to play to far away from out home, and even then, if my mother could, she prevented us from even leaving the house. There were lot’s of soldiers around, and the Ishbalans disliked them being there, so they retaliated. One day, more troops arrived. They did not suppress the civil war, they just slaughtered. My mother went to the market to buy food for the week, but she never returned. She was killed because of the colour of her skin and eyes, while my father was spared because he was blond with blue eyes.
“That didn’t stop him from getting killed though, as he got shot in the eye by a ricochet bullet. My sister Remira, who was only three at the time, and I, who was eight, were left alone. It died down after a while, and we were mistaken as Amestrian, and were transported ‘home’ with the soldiers.
“We spent the next three years in an orphanage, but we hated it. After those three years, we decided to leave. The only problem with that plan was we had nowhere to go, but we didn’t realize that until after we left. That left us on the streets of Central City, a very unforgiving place if you don’t have any money. Luckily, we found out about this underground alchemic fighting ring that handed out large sums of money to those who could beat the champion. I was only young, but with my knowledge of alchemy, I easily defeated him, and decided to keep on fighting there to support myself and Rem. It was a good system, until the military found out.
“That day started off like all the others, with me about to kick some guy’s a** to the ground, when I found myself and all of the other fighters and patrons partly swallowed by the ground, and soldiers, mostly state alchemists, swarming the ring. My hands were bound together so I could not transmute anything, and I was herded into a separate van from my sister. They didn’t notice the transmutation circles on my feet.
“I waited until we arrived at Central Headquarters, before I wreaked havoc on the building, until I found Rem. I was once again foiled, and blackmailed by Colonel Mustang, I believe you know him. He gave me the option of applying to be a state alchemist, or get thrown in jail with the other fighters found at the ring. I think it was pretty obvious on what I chose. I passed the exam, and I am now known as the Second Sight Alchemist. Is that all you need to know? ‘Cause I’ve really got to get back to Rem.” Demitri finished off her story, and got out of the chair to stretch her legs, although getting suspicious eyes from the she-man.
“Uh, not quite.” The man on the left said, waking up from Demi’s life story, hoping that one of the other interviewers wrote it down. “You mentioned that you practiced alchemy. Tell us about that.” Demitri sighed and sloppily saluted him.
‘Aye aye cap’n.” She slurred, resembling a drunken soldier, getting very bored and frustrated at this moment. “As I said before, my father originally taught me the basic principles of alchemy, but I later developed my own techniques over time. The first technique I came up with when I was twelve, which was to use the first step of a transmutation, understanding matter, or simply seeing what is transmuted. With a transmutation circle, I can see the object I’m touching. With this, I can actually ‘see’ though walls. This helps in battle to get a better view of my surroundings, without turning my head, which, in the time taken to do so, I would probably already be dead. It works better with the transmutation circles on my feet, so I can ‘see’ the ground in all directions without bending over to use the transmutation circles on my hands.
“Another technique came to me when I saw bubbles being blown by a child in the park. The stick that is used for actually blowing the bubbles had a transmutation circle on it, altering the gas that is blown in the bubble. When the bubble pops, it mixes with the oxygen in the air, creating an unstable reaction, and an explosion, the size depending on how big the bubble is. Now can I go?” Demitri said impatiently. After frantic scratching of a pen to keep up with the speed of Demi’s words, the man on the right nodded, and she practically bolted out of the room, glad to leave.
Time to get Physical.
Many of you are probably wondering what this elusive Demi looks like. Well, let’s start from the top, and work our way down, in a non sexual way. Shall we start with the hair? Now Demi’s hair is probably the only thing she wishes to keep long, and probably the only thing keeping her from looking like a boy. And it is long, going past her backside. Her fringe is the only thing that she regrets, as it has not been cut in a long time, and hangs past her eyes. The only reason she hasn’t cut it is because of the fear that she’ll look like an idiot. Instead, she brushes it behind one ear, because it is certainly long enough, or just leaves it hanging over her eyes if she can't be bothered trying to tame it. She ties the rest of it back into a long loose plait, tied at the bottom with a lavender purple ribbon, a keepsake from her mother. Even with the reduced length, it easily makes it to her calves.
Now let's move onto the genes. Demi is almost the splitting image of her mother, only looking the tiniest bit like her father. She inherited her mother’s soft, round face, and her tanned skin, that of an Ishbalan’s. Her body is slender, but not as much to make her look like a stick. That trait was passed though all of her body, as she has long arms and legs, and slender fingers, and also not much of a chest. She tends not to care too much about her fingers, as the nails have been chewed down, a habit that both she and her sister possess. Turning her hands over, one would see transmutation circles tattooed onto her palms, taking up almost all of the space. Demi has the same transmutation circles tattooed onto the bottoms of her feet, but you would not see them unless she was in the middle of a fight.
As well as inheriting her father’s height, she also inherited his eyes. Her eyes are a brilliant blue, which makes them seem odd against her Ishbalan skin. Those genes also made their way to Demi’s eyes, as they are also partially red, making them seem purple in the right light. Her eyes are filled with determination, and sparkle with energy most of the time. Her nose is small, which matches her small, round face. She doesn’t have big, full lips like most women have, and she has small thin lips, which makes her look younger than she actually is. Another trait that she has is more of a habit. Her mother never wore makeup, and neither does she. She finds it to be unnecessary when she is travelling so much, she can just never find the time.
Demi’s style is not quite what you’d expect from someone who spends so little time on her appearance. She currently wears a pair of dull blue jeans that are slightly baggy and worn out, and a green dress that shows her shoulders. The dress is more like an elongated shirt than a dress, as it is worn with a brown belt that hangs loosely from her waist, and has no visible ties or clips. The dress reaches to above her knees, as she feels any shorter would be inappropriate, even though she is wearing jeans underneath. The dress is teamed with comfortable green flats. Although that does not sound extremely comfortable, she is used to it, and is comfortable travelling in it. She does wear jewellery, but only because of her mother, as they were once hers. Six silver bangles hang from her right wrist, and a silver necklace hangs from her neck, in the shape of a lily.
How I do Stuff and Junk
 Z O M B ii 3 · Tue Nov 04, 2008 @ 08:53am · 0 Comments |
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