Continuing my Hohenheim-centrism

[lykomancer]

Title:  The Lashes of the Scourge
Words:  ~980
Genre:  Gen—angst, past-fic; Hohenheim-centric
Rating:  G
Spoilers:  Wholesale, for the entire series
Previous Parts:
1-- Divine Proportion
2-- Day Star
3-- Out of the Whirlwind
4-- Risen From the Ashes
5-- Fallen From Heaven
6-- For Whom the Bell Tolls
Notes:  I have a couple of theories on Hohenheim and his sons’ appearances.
As I told [Unknown site tag]absolut_artemis:
The body that Hoho-papa used to knock up Dante was different than the one he inhabited while living with Trisha, ensuring different genetics [for Envy and Ed]. (Ok, I know what you’re thinking: if that’s the case, then why do Hohenheim, Ed, Al, and trueform!Envy all have gold hair and eyes; obviously, there has to be some genetic connection between them for that to happen. I have several ideas on this:
1) Either Hoho-papa tends to pick bodies that are similar in looks for some reason whenever he changes hosts, or
2) No matter what his physical body starts out looking like, eventually it ends up (for some reason) looking the same, like the soul’s imprint of his original body works its way outward to express itself on his flesh, or
3) …why the fuck do I have to explain this? >.< Envy having blond hair and gold eyes is obviously just a way of making a quick-n-easy plot device/movement, rather than having to explain his origins out slowly and painfully. Gawddammit.
I'm exploiting option #2 here, folks.
This one is also a lot closer to an actual story-style fic than the others.

 

 

            “So, what was it like for you?”

            The thing leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed over its chest.  It watched him with slitted violet predator’s eyes set in his son’s face—it could take many appearances, they’d learned, but it found that none disturbed his creator quite like the one it’d been reborn into, and it took malicious pleasure in causing discomfiture—if not actual pain—in others.  It waited expectantly, almost calmly, and for once it was not smirking at him.

            Hohenheim didn’t spare Envy a glance, though, studying himself in the silver-backed glass closely.  He’d been in this form for less than a week— days of adjusting to his new height and reach, to a new face that he controlled but did not recognize, to all the peculiarities of the strange adult body in which he now found himself—but he was already beginning to note visible differences between his first examination of his new self and now.  The short, wavy hair was developing a sandy cast, especially in certain lighting, the once clear blue eyes were now a muddy hazel, and some of the deeper lines around his mouth and cut across his forehead were softened and blurred; he’d even noticed that the clothing that had fit two days ago was now tighter in the shoulders and waist, and his wrists poked out beyond the sleeves.  

            He was…changing. 

            Was the soul’s imprint of the flesh that had housed it so deeply ingrained that it could force this body—and any other body he transferred into—to express its memories by actually physically changing it on a molecular level?

            “Dying, I mean,” Envy clarified, startling him out of his speculations, and he finally turned to stare at the homunculus, an acknowledgement that made the damned thing smile.  “What was it like, Father mine, to die and to be resurrected again?  It wasn’t the same for you, I know…  You lost your original body, but had the luxury of retaining your soul, whereas I…”   It paused, licking its lips, then smirked, understanding that as much as its next barb gouged at its own self-identity, it hurt Hohenheim more, and causing pain was its delight.  “Well, your transmutation merely reanimated my three-days dead corpse.”

            Hohenheim quivered as that arrow hit home, his expression hardening as he turned back to the mirror to resume ignoring the homunculus, but the damage had been done and Envy could see it clearly; the Sin laughed softly, mockingly.

            “You couldn’t leave well enough alone in the first place, and you couldn’t even manage to do it right in the second.  The great Paracelsus… You know, the hoi palloi say that you can restore sight to the blind, cleanse the leper, and that even your name spoken in a sickroom can turn aside the plague.”  Envy snorted with bitter laughter again.  “If only they knew the truth.  If only you advertised your failures.  You couldn’t even recall my soul with the damned Stone you worked so hard to make, Master of the Elixir of Life, now could you?  Seems there are some things that are always impossible, no matter what…”

            The alchemist didn’t answer, but stood silent before the looking glass without seeming to see the form reflected in it, his hands curled into white-knuckled fists at his sides.  Any reaction to the thing’s taunting was giving in to it; Hohenheim understood its game. 

            Envy sniffed and unfolded from the doorframe with the soft crackle of its own particular alchemical energy.   Hohenheim didn’t have to look to know that the homunculus was shapeshifting; he could hear the static of it, feel the slight heat and prickle of the reaction, smell the scent of ozone wafting from its newly transmuted flesh. 

“Mirror, mirror,” the Sin mocked playfully, stepping behind its creator, and Hohenheim’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of the thing: it was wearing his body, his first, true-born appearance, in an attempt to taunt him.  It leaned on his shoulders, pressing its—his—cheek to his, grinning at their reflections with an expression that had never graced Hohenheim’s face in his natural lifetime.  “Seems we have much in common: you are changing, too, you know, although you will never have my abilities.  You can only change into yourself…  You’ll never be able to escape your past.”

Are these the barren firstfruits of my quest?
    
                “Haven’t you learned anything yet, Envy?  You, too, are locked into your past failings.  Yes, you look like me; you’d always wanted to be me, and you felt that nothing you ever did—no matter how good it was—could ever compete with me.”  Hohenheim pushed Envy away from him, heading for the door—it seemed that many of their conversations ended like this, and Hohenheim could only wonder how it was that Dante could stand the thing that had once been her son…but then, she seemed the have the monster tamed like some kind of savage housepet, spoiling it rotten when it obeyed and disciplining it harshly when it did not.  As much as Hohenheim denied that Envy was anything of his child, it was still too close—to human, to Lucas—for him to treat it as callously as Dante did.   

Too close, and sometimes the lines blurred, and Hohenheim had to wonder who he was speaking to as he walked away. 

“You always wanted to be me, and though you can take on my face and form, you have not my mind, my soul, my skill.  No, you have lost the ability to perform alchemy at all, much less at my level.  Go on and play your little games, but that doesn’t change anything

“You can seem, but you can never be.”

Comments

[yuuo.livejournal.com]

"You can seem, but you can never be."

OUCH. Just... OUCH ;_;

Beautiful as always, lovely. X3 ::would give more of the reply this deserves but she's reading/replying between cleaning and sorting fits in preparation for moving::

[empty-geas.livejournal.com]

Mirrors have always been associated with the supernatural in one way or another, especially glass mirrors for the sometimes 'horrifying' accuracy of their reflections. It's an interesting thing to be caught between two mirrors, your reflection cast back and forth between the two creating an almost endless seeming array of not-selves. It has even been said, if you look deep enough into the chain of reflections, the motions you see the figures make will not look like your own, will not be your own.

In this piece I get the feeling Hohenheim is very much standing between two mirrors, both reflecting things he probably doesn't want to see. The mirror in front of him reminding that he can never escape himself, even in another's form and flesh. The mirror behind reinforcing that and reflecting, summing up, and highlighting all his flaws and faults. And Envy can be such a very good mirror, especially in that function. An idea reinforced by his shift to Hohenheim's original form, a future reflection of what the first mirror will eventually show.

I very much like the reference to the three days. The significance of a body rising during/before or after a period of three days shows up in quite a few different places and has always fascinated me.

The blurring of the lines and identities is very nice as well, especially as it can be interpreted more then one way. The first and primary being the Envy/Lucas one. That, despite himself, he can't help slipping at times and confusing the monster he created with the son he failed to save. The second is perhaps a bit of a stretch, but I can't get it out of my head anyway. Envy is still in Hohenheim's original form, a reflection of him 'as he was' before he created the stone, when he failed his child. And what might a person say to their reflection, when thinking on their own mistakes and past failings? When they think they know better and want to put the past behind them?

[lykomancer.livejournal.com]

Yeah, buddy. That's the line that started this whole thing, which I then flushed out, thinking how funny it was that Envy had died and been raised up from an array, and that Hohenheim had also died and had-- humorously enough-- been in the center of the Stone-creating phoenix array when Dante transfered his soul.

It's ok. I know how that is, having done it not so long ago myself.

[lykomancer.livejournal.com]

Geez, I love the way you have of getting to what I am trying to say but can't quite get to since it's buried in my subconscious. <3 <3

[lady-tigerfish.livejournal.com]

I quite enjoy this particular cycle; I've seen very few people write about Hohenheim, and even fewer bother to do it well. Brava.

My convoluted theory is the following:
1. Hohenheim tends to choose bodies that look like himself to begin with, for whatever reason. He also tends to maintain a similar physical presentation (hairstyle, beard) from body to body.

2. The face of his "son" that was presented to us in the series was deliberately fashioned to look like a younger version of Hohenheim's current form (or an older Ed) and did not in fact resemble Lucas/whatever name we speculators assign him. Considering what a manipulative little guy we're dealing with here, I can easily see this being the case; Envy wants to get his point across, so he does it in the clearest manner possible.