FMA? Sexist? part 3Continued from part 2...
"This brings me onto Ling Yao and Ran Fan. As I said earlier, Ran Fan is mere servant (still cool though, I love her as much as Izumi, Olivier, Hughes and Alex) and not the royalty figure, which Ling is. I know a man (Fu) was a servant too, but that makes no difference!"
Um...why not? Why is it so horrible for Ran Fan to be a servant, but not Fu? Just because one's a girl and one's a guy? That seems like reverse-sexism to me, which isn't any better than normal sexism. Anytime someone says you CAN'T do something or choose something because you're this gender or that gender...that's sexism. If I want to be a homemaker or a cook when I grow up, then that's MY choice for ME and I won't have anyone telling me to pick a less "sexist" occupation just because I happen to fit some stereotype they don't like.
*cough* Sorry, didn't mean to rant there...I've gotten too much online crap about this in the past, that's all. Moving on!
"Ran Fan (a ninja) was t
FMA? Sexist? part 2Continued from part 1...
"I mean in chapter 84, Edward tells her to bake him as apple pie and keep it warm for him and she agrees! I mean, in reality, Edward was saying, as AveriaAlexandros puts, "Get back in the kitchen and make an apple pie for me" and Winry was responding, "Of course, I'll do something stereotypical and sexist as you're my man and must tell me what to do."
I think you completely missed the point of that scene. I encourage you to look back a few pages and reread the conversation they had. Keep that context in mind, and you'll see there's a far deeper meaning to the "apple pie" thing. When Edward said to keep an apple pie warm for him, he wasn't telling her to "get back in the kitchen". He was clearly promising her that he wouldn't give up, and that no matter what, hope would prevail and he would come home to her in one piece. Likewise, Winry didn't agree because he was "her man telling her what to do". It was her way of saying, "Alright. I'm trus
FMA? Sexist? part 1DISCLAIMER: This is my own response to NaokoElric's rant about sexism in FMA. I've done my best to keep my responses honest, friendly, clear, concise and backed up with evidence. Please know that I do not expect you to conform to my own beliefs (about FMA or anything else) or to agree with everything I say, that I respect your opinions, that I respect you as a real person and not just another faceless web-surfer, and that nothing I say is meant in spite or as an attack against you. Rest assured that if I make a joke or put in some sarcasm, it is all meant in good humor and not to ridicule you; and that I will do my best to be civil and polite in all my comments and replies to you.
In return, all I ask is that you act towards me in the same way. Let's just let loose, be willing to laugh, keep open minds and take time to try and understand each other.
Alright...I'm just going to skip the first few initial paragraphs of the rant and skip to where the real stuff starts.
Merry Christmas, darkangel51Surprise, surprise! Your Secret Santa is me! (And I'm really very sorry for how late this this, but my month has been insane and I had a bit of trouble trying to think of good present for you. I will give myself thirty lashes with a wet noodle as penance, if you want.)
Meh, enough with lame excuses. It's time for a riddle!
What happens when you take Edward Elric, Edward Cullen, the "Old Spice Guy", and shake 'em up in a bottle?
Wait for it...
The answer is...
...Your Secret Santa gift! Click on the link in the author's notes to see it!
My attempt at an FMA OCI've never made an FMA character before (it's too sacred! I could never create an OC worthy of the wonder and glory that is FMA! *bowage*) but hey, there's a first for everything!
Name: Christopher (or "Chris" for short)
Current age: 26
Title/Alias: "Andrew Andante"
Background: Chris was born and raised in Rush Valley. He lived with his parents (both very skilled automail engineers), his fiesty little sister Janie and his wise old grandma Beatrice, a professional counselor who has a knack for gardening and playing the piano.
He grew up under a lot of pressure from his parents. They always expected him to inherit their talents in automail and take on the family business, and were dismayed when he showed no aptitude for it and took to music and writing instead - especially his dad. Chris tried hard to please his parents and get better with automail, but all efforts were disasterous. His grandmother quickly noticed his creative tale
More Than EnoughEdward yawned as he set his empty water glass on the kitchen counter and glanced at the clock: 2:36 AM. He winced.
Why did he even bother staying up so late with his dusty alchemy books anymore? No matter how much he studied or how he longed to feel the exhilarating surge of energy flowing through his fingers again, it wouldn't return that part of him.
Not that he really cared. The sacrifice had been small compared to the overwhelming, almost painful joy of getting his brother back, and he'd gladly give it up for Al again...and more, if he had to. A hundred times over.
The 26-year-old reached up and pulled out his pony-tail, letting long, blond hair fall loose around his shoulders and flop in his bleary eyes. He stifled another yawn, his metal leg creaking in protest as he dragged his feet down the hallway; the anticipation of soft pillows and warm arms calling him to sleep.
A sharp cry met his ears just when he reached the bedroom door, and all thoughts of sleep fled his mind a
Birthnight"I never knew the nights were this long. Before this, I always spent my nights talking with brother about alchemy, about our future...and once we got tired from all the talking, we'd fall asleep and dream of happy things. One night seemed so short then. Now one night feels so... so awfully long." Alphonse Elric, chapter 43
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Edward Elric loves to sleep.
After all, spending every day traveling, researching, chasing leads and getting into various kinds of trouble can get a bit tiring. And he once heard that getting a good night's rest helps you grow, so what he misses from his issues with milk he makes up for in sleeping hours. (In his reasoning, anyway.) He doesn't care anymore where he tucks in for the night; he'll sleep on anything from couches to cold, hard ground, with only a tuft of grass for his pillow. Arms beneath his head, tucked by his chest or sprawled every which-way, mouth slightly open in a gentle snore, shirt rumpled upwards just enough to expos
Starlight"They could see that it was a tall girl, dressed in a single long garment of clear blue which left her arms bare. She was bare-headed and her yellow hair hung down her back. And when they looked at her, they thought they had never before known what beauty meant." --The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
He could never clearly describe how he fell in love with her. It was too wonderfully strange to explain; something that couldn't quite fit into human words.
All he knew is that when he saw her, he saw her. It was as though someone had pulled back a curtain and granted him a glimpse of something inside, behind and beyond what his five senses told him. Whenever she looked at him, he forgot all about her golden hair and slender figure...for what he saw in her dazzled him far more than mere physical attraction could.
He'd seen countless women and suitors back in Narnia and Archenland. Princesses, noblewomen, peasants, kitchen maids...many of them lovely an