Being the sole girl in any type of sports match gives you an automatic advantage - chivalry.

A lot of guys don't like to go all out on girls I've found, they perform at a slightly lower level than they would normally and make a point of not to play aggressive so as not to hurt a girl.  Which means ladies, we rock the field when we don't do the same things ^_~  They'll back off in a confrontation as as to not knock us down, and that means the ball is ours!

I regularly play Ultimate with my housemates and regularly am the only girl to hop the fence to the field. I'm not the most aggressive of players, I played with some really monsters on the soccer field on high school, but because the guys back off and I don't, I'm a good player on the field who takes and gives hits. It makes me feel really good, there's something intoxicating about physical prowess.  I mean, I know most of these guys could take me in a fight, but they don't want to hurt me and even if it's just a game version of superiority I'll take it.  I'm an excellent catch regardless.

A Selfish Falling

By Gwen Tolios

He ran into me in his hometown, some dinky little place up north whose name always escapes me, as I made my way from the bar to the inn the military was staying at for the night.  I lost my balance on the winter ice and fell to the ground, bringing him with me.  I pushed him further into the snow in my effort to get up first.  I watched him spit snow out of his mouth while I brushed flakes off my sleeves.  He didn’t look at me, just pushed himself up and made an effort to trudge through the snow towards a small gap between two buildings. 

My hand snapped out and grabbed his collar, pulling him back toward me.  “Aren’t you going to apologize?”

He growled, hands reaching behind him to try to pry my fingers off his coat.  I shook my arm, but his fingers didn’t release their grip on my own.  There was the sound of running footsteps and from around the corner came a lieutenant, his brass buttons glinting in the light from the streetlamps.  The kid let go of my hand and hastily tried to unbutton his coat.

“Major Chanhall!” the lieutenant called out. “He was Creating gold!”

I gave a hard yank. The kid fell back, landing in the snow as I released my grip.  I got a glimpse of his face, eyes wide with panic, before he turned over and tried to escape under my left arm.  I caught him in the stomach.

By this point the lieutenant was next to me and he roughly pulled the kid up by his elbow.  The kid was shorter than I thought, coming up only to my chest.

“I’m waiting for my apology,” I said.

The kid glared, the reflection of light on his blond hair and pale gray eyes making him the most feral kid I had ever seen.  I glared back. The lieutenant shook him.  “Apologize to the Major.”

“Sorry,” he bit out.

“You found him Creating gold?”

The lieutenant nodded, sharp chin cutting through the air.

“Show me where.”

“Yes, sir. This way, sir.”

He led me to a small shed with tiny windows on the property of the house on the furthest edge of town. There was light flickering in the shed’s window and when I peered through the door I saw it was light by a number of candles. I had to crouch to fit through the doorway and once inside there was just enough room for me to stand at my full height. The lieutenant was taller than me and had to hunch. He looked ridiculous.

The floor immediately caught my attention.  There was a small triangle drawn in chalk   and at each corner there was a circle instead of meeting lines. The circles were made out of strings of letters and numbers, each one different, and between two of the circles was a star.  In the third circle, positioned right above the star, was a small yellow lump.  It was too pale to be pure gold, but of a high enough quality to get the kid in trouble. Creating gold was a federal offense; it was a threat to the economic system.

“Do it again.”

The lieutenant pushed the kid forward hard enough for him to fall on his knees. Shaking, he pushed himself up and made his way to a shelf at the end of the shed to gather a couple items.  He took care to avoid the diagram on the floor.  A gray lump was placed in one circle, a bronze one in another, and the gold was gently removed from the third. The kid then placed a hand on the star.

I’d seen Creation performed before; the military had a number of Creationists in the ranks.  They would scribble gibberish on a surface, place their hands on the design, there would be a flash of bluish-white light, and what ever the Creationist wanted to make would be there.  I’d seen them draw weapons from the ground, fix supplies, turn the air in a sealed room into something poisonous. And despite the title I’d seen them destroy things too - melt metal doors or crumble rock.  The more powerful the Creationist, the more he can do without collapsing; Creating steals energy from the Creationist.

Anyone can come up with the theories and equations they used, but only select members of the population can actually Create.   The military had found these people, collected them, trained them, and overthrown the aristocracy eighty years ago. Now it’s part of how the military manages to control the country and defend its borders. Expand even. Creationists in the military are treated well: high rank, high pay, high power.  You only attempt Creation if you wanted to be in the military. Most civilians are suspicious of people with such power.

And what power this kid seemed to have! I had never seen a whiter light during Creation and when it faded to reveal that the gray and bronze lumps had been replaced by a single yellow one, the kid wasn’t even breathing hard.  The Creation hadn’t taken a single thing out of him.

“Please,” he pleaded, turning to face me. “Take it, and I’ll make more. Just, don’t turn me in.  The old lady I’m living with needs me! She can’t work and the rest of the village –“

I pocketed the gold. “Make some more.”

And he did. Ten lumps total, and he only started panting at the ninth one.  That was better than the highest level Creationist in uniform.

“How old are you, kid?” the lieutenant asked.

“Sixteen.”

“You look like you’re twelve,” I snorted.

He bristled, but let it go. “Can I go now?” he asked the floor.

I nodded at the lieutenant. “Take him to the Colonel.”

The kid snapped his head up and bared his teeth at me. “You bastard!” he shouted.  He was ready to charge me, but the lieutenant knocked him out with a blow to the neck. I gave him four gold lumps. “Make sure you show the Colonel evidence.” He nodded and threw the kid over his shoulder. 

I would have been happy to have never seen the kid again, but no: the military determined that Sena Walker was a genius and they needed him. So what if he was underage? The old lady who had taken care of him after his parents skipped town put up a bit of a fight, but no one else did.  So Sena became a Creationist of the military, and since I had been involved with finding him I had been assigned his commanding officer.

The brat right away understood that he was a hot commodity, that if it weren’t for age and experience he would be my CO.  The little kid pleading on his knees in the shed turned into a blonde hooligan hellbent on tarnishing my reputation and ruining any chance I had of getting a promotion.  So I did my best to get rid of him.  He was too young to officially be a part of the military, so I enrolled him in classes at Capital University and assigned him to work undercover on cases when the city police asked for assistance. Sena was good at such assignments, and I found myself assigning him to cases the police asked for help with that others in the military would have not assigned anyone to as they didn’t pertain to military interests.  I rarely saw Sena, which was how I liked it. And he liked those low-grade cops, so win-win.

So of course he had to destroy that by disappearing while working a case for them. Damn kid.

When I saw him in one of the bars I frequent, I swore. His record of successful undercover missions was boosting my reputation, but if he was caught drinking before he was of age, that would be on me too.  COs got noticed for their subordinates’ actions, good or bad. So I grabbed him by the back of his collar, pulling him down from the bar stool, and dragged him out of the bar.

When the guy he’d been sitting next called out “David?”  I realized I might have overreacted a little bit.  Sena was quick to inform me of that himself once we were outside.

“I’m on assignment!” he hissed, sending his blond hair flying with a jerk of his head. “You signed the papers this fucking morning! Stupid bastard. If the country blows up this will all be on your head! At least you weren’t wearing your uniform.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

I hid my wince. Instead I drew attention to my height, Sena hates the fact that he only comes up to my chest, and demanded he tell me what this case was about. He grinned like the devil at my lack of knowledge, proof I hadn’t actually read the mission brief before giving it to him, but obeyed.

Apparently an organization was stealing cash from local stores in such small amounts that it was thought to be human error until a cop noticed a citywide pattern.  The thefts had been going on for two years, and Sena had discovered that night that the money was being used to purchase supplies for some type of Creation.  He was planning on infiltrating the organization and getting the information to take it down.  At least, before I dragged him away from a contact like he was a misbehaving child. Even though he was most of the time.

“That guy at the bar?” Sena nodded his head back towards the building behind us, “He was telling about what this group is buying.  I don’t like it. It’s all chemicals found in the human body. I think they’re planning Human Creation.”

Human Creation was illegal, as was any other type of Creation involving life. Combining two types of metal was okay, but two animals? Or a human with anything? It usually resulted in a bloody mess.  But that never stopped the dark talk, alluded to but never outright said, about the potential to make humans.  If such knowledge existed, if I could get it for the military…could I skip Lieutenant Colonel and go straight to Colonel?

“Don’t tell the cops that,” I ordered.

“Why? They need to know what they’re going up against!”

“Just tell them they’re making a bomb. And as soon as you get more information on what this group is doing, let me know.”

Sena ground his teeth, but didn’t say anything. He turned and stormed away, kicking a pebble in front him and mumbling something under his breath. I watched him for a moment, then returned to my booth in the bar.

He walked into my office three days later minus the uniform he was supposed to wear as usual.  I never knew if always wore leather pants to stand out or be rebellious.

Surprisingly, he had listened to my orders regarding what information to give to the cops.  Sena had also managed to get into the organization as an errand boy who had a slight interest in Creation.  I wondered if he was capable of playing dumb; he usually had very little tolerance for those whose skills didn’t match his.

“This thing is big,” he told me, leaning against the wall, not bothering to stand correctly in my presence nor look at me. I’d reprimanded him before. It hadn’t worked.  “And they’ve managed to cover it up for two years. It’s Human Creation for sure, and that’s hard to keep under wraps for that long. People notice bodies and missing people, hear the screams, see light.”

“There are ways it can be done,” I said, focusing on my paperwork instead of him, making it seem like it was more important.

I felt his eyes travel to me, demanding an explanation.  But I didn’t give him one.  I was his CO after all. I had to remind him of his standing as often as I could.  The fact that I didn’t know how such a thing could be accomplished either didn’t matter. You learn the art of bluffing and lying while wearing a uniform.  It was a skill I had learned well.  I loved making Sena angry with it.

He narrowed his eyes at me, and then stormed out of the office.  My secretary blinked up owlishly as Sena slammed the door behind him, but then went back to work after a moment.  She didn’t say anything. Sena was doing that too often, I decided.

Dealing with Sena was always a pain, and now that he was gone I needed something to energize me.  I headed to the mess for coffee. I came across General Wells in the hallway outside and snapped a quick salute, moving to the side of the hallway to let him pass.

“At ease, Major,” he said and I fell into place half a step behind him. “I saw Walker today. He seemed troubled,” Wells commented.

“He’s working on a big case with the local police department.  But I’m confident he’ll solve it soon.”  Always show public support for those under you, make others believe you have what they want and can’t have, and make yourself look good to those above you.  In this case, I wasn’t bluffing.  Sena was a genius, and not just in Creation.  He’d find out a way to bring down this organization, and with that I would rise up the ranks.

“Really? Tell me about it.” Wells grabbed two trays and handed me one.  I wasn’t hungry, but I followed him to the buffet.

“I’ve discovered a rogue Creationist organization here in the capital.  They’ve avoided detection for two years already, but I will have them soon.” Always claim credit where you can.

“A rogue Creationist group? That’s always dangerous. You’ve let your superior know, so he can help you?”

I ground my teeth. I report to one of the few female officers, Lieutenant Colonel Rodgers, who like the others like her didn’t deserve her rank. I do. I wasn’t letting her claim any credit.  “Oh course, sir.”

“I wish you luck and look forward to your report then.” He gave me a smile and walked out of the mess hall with his tray.  I looked at the food I’d placed on my own. I tossed it out, tray and all, as I left.

“Kay,” my wife hesitantly called out a week later while cleaning up after dinner.  I looked up from pouring myself a glass of scotch, scowling at the interruption of settling into my evening ritual of alcohol and a book. She was looking out the window above the sink. 

“There’s a kid walking up our sidewalk.”

It had to be Sena, only he would have the gall to come pounding on my door, disturbing me after hours. I marched towards the door, not wanting Lisa to open it and invite him in.

“What?” I snarled as I pulled open the door.

The teen took a half step back, but stayed on my doorstep. He wrapped his arms around himself to keep warm and peeked around me into my house. I did my best to block the view of my living room as well as I could.   

“You have told Lt. Colonel Rodgers about this, yes? Because I think we need more than just me on this case. And we’ll need a lot more time.”

“What, it’s too much for your genius ability?”

Sena looked like he wanted to punch me, but he didn’t. “I know when I’m over my head!  Let me come in and explain.”

“No,” I said, stepping out and closing door behind me. I kept it open a crack and left my hand on the doorknob. Sena’s nose was inches from my chest; benches in the park have more room than my doorstep.  “Here is fine.”

He scowled but obliged. Aha. He was finally listening to me. “This organization, it isn’t just here. It stretches across the entire country. I don’t know where, but it does. I can’t do this by myself. We need other people involved and to pull out the cops, cuz they can’t do anything! Something this big, we need to take down all at once. Tell Rodgers we need help.” His voice was higher than normal and something about his expression made me recall the night we met. I ignored it.

“She knows about this,” I lied. “I’ll talk to her in the morning. Can you stay in with the sect here? Take them down when we say so?”

Sena frowned, but nodded.

“Good. In the meantime, try to get their Creation notes so we know exactly what they’re doing.”

“I already told you,” he growled, rubbing his hands up and down his arms, “They’re collecting all the chemical components of humans and keep talking about ‘improvements’. But they aren’t actually Creating here in the city, that’s why I’m know they’re bigger than what we know! They don’t keep any notes here.”

“They’re just really well hidden.  Aren’t teenagers supposed to be good at finding secret stashes? Find them!”

I hurried back in and slammed the door in his face. “Bastard,” Sena spat and I continued to hear him swear through the wood for a moment before he left.  I don’t think he knew that I’d lied, that I planned on him taking it all down himself.  I wanted that promotion and after all I had to put up with because of Sena, he was going to get it for me. 

I shot my wife a glare as I made my way back to the couch, an order to not ask about what happened. She went back to washing dishes and I settled myself back on the couch to finish pouring myself a glass of scotch.

The next Monday the police chief was in my office telling me that Sena hadn’t reported to any of his men since Thursday, the day he’d shown up at my house. No one had seen him around either.  I told the cop not to worry; Sena was good at undercover work.  He was just busy getting the information I’d told him to acquire, like a good subordinate.

But the police chief was in my office again on Thursday, asking if I had seen Sena.  I hadn’t. 

A week.  Losing your staff to begin with was a mark against you, but for a week? I didn’t want to go to Rodgers, but I knew if she found out on her own it would be a blot on my record.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner, Major?!” she yelled, drawing the attention of her two secretaries.  I could see one of them peek over a desk to peer into her private office Rodger. There was humor in his eyes. He always had been jealous of my rank.

“I had assumed he would resurface from his cover to make contact.”

“His cover? He went missing on a police assignment?” Rodgers paused. “Those are rarely dangerous, so tell me exactly what this assignment entailed.”

“A rogue Creationist group that has been under our radar right here in the city for two years.  I suspect that they are larger than Sena thinks they are, but he insisted he found no evidence of that and would not need the help of other personnel.  We believe they are experimenting with Human Creation.”

Rodgers slammed her hands on her desk and stood up so quickly her braid swept over her shoulder to rest on her front. “Agon, close the door,” she snapped and the secretary, who had been shamelessly watching us, rushed to comply.  When it clicked closed, Rodgers walked around the desk and I turned to follow her.  She stopped with a pace in between us and then leaned forward.  I didn’t move.  Females never could be intimidating, especially those above their rank.

“I am your commanding officer,” she hissed, “And that means anything of this caliber, you need to bring to my attention immediately. I don’t care if you or your Creationist thought you had it under control. I. Need. To. Know.”

I didn’t answer and just stared at the center of her forehead.

“You understand, Major Chanhall?” Her voice rose in volume and I could hear the steel in it.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good, because if something like this happens again, you’ll be demoted.”

“With all due respect, Lieutenant Colonel, I had informed a superior.”

“Oh?” she asked, moving back to her chair.

“Yes. General Wells.”

Rodgers pursed her lips and I felt a small flutter of victory in my chest.  She settled in her chair and focused on a different issue. “How could the military not notice the signs of Human Creation for two years?” she said to the room. I didn’t answer. I didn’t have one. But I watched her face. It flicked from curious to pondering. “Unless they haven’t escaped notice. The military knows and they’ve kept it hushed.”

Why had I not thought of that? 

She continued, “I’m guessing it wasn’t the Creating that drew Walker to the case.”

“No,” I confirmed. “It was how they are getting funds.  They’re stealing from shops.” I shifted on my feet.  It would be bad if I was meddling in a secret military affair.

Rodgers was muttering to herself as she looked towards the closed door.

“Of course people will notice, they always do. But the reports got buried, burned, and you would need a lot of power to do that, General level at least. You said you told General Wells?”

I nodded. Human Creation was illegal because it wasn’t safe. If the General had a secret project to find a way to make it safe, and Sena disbanded it…I would be kicked out of the military.  Sena would most likely be offered a job under the General’s direction.  I clenched my fists. I wouldn’t let that happen. I had to find Sena and stop him.  Or at least drag him down with me.

“Did the General say anything about this assignment?”

“No.”

“Well, in any case, someone in the military is keeping tabs on this and I’m inclined to keep it in their hands. Focus on finding Walker instead.”

I gave a salute and left. I’d make the cops look. They were the ones who’d lost Sena. I stopped at the local police department on my way home and ordered them to start a search. One of them made to punch me, but the police chief stopped him.  “We’ve been looking,” he said, staring me in the eyes and daring me to look away. I did.

One of the cops approached me and my wife as we were walking through a park on Saturday.  He offered a folder to me.  “Sir.”

I scowled at it. “I’m not working today. Deliver it to my office and I’ll look at it on Monday.”

The folder shook as the cop’s hand trembled. “It’s about Sena.”

I ignored him and walked on, pulling my wife along by her elbow. She looked over her should at the low-grade policeman. “Kay, shouldn’t you-“

“Shut up.”

The folder was on my desk on Monday. My secretary had placed it in the center and cleared everything else off the desk top. I sent a heated glare her way, but she didn’t notice.

Inside was a single page from a local paper belonging to one of the small towns outside of the capital. One of the articles was circled with a black pen.  It wasn’t anything fancy, just a police brief about finding a dead body.  I snorted, stopping after the second sentence, but something pushed me on. The victim was young, male, and blond. He had died from multiple gunshot wounds.

I looked up as the door to my office opened.  Agon stepped in and saluted me. “Major Chanhall sir, Lieutenant Colonel Rodgers would like to see you.”

“I was just coming to see her,” I stood and tucked the folder under my arm.

“I found Walker,” Rodgers announced as I stepped into her office.

“So did I,” I quickly opened the folder to see the name of the town. “He’s in Colsen.”

“Did you speak to Kowlski?”

“Who?”

“He heads the morgue in Colsen.”

“No, I haven’t had the chance.”

Rodgers shot me a disapproving look. “I went to see him Saturday to help identify the body. I confirmed it was Walker.”

I wanted to ask if she didn’t have anything better to do on the weekends, but held my tongue.

The thought that it could be Sena the article was talking about suddenly hit me.  I hadn’t honestly thought it was him; the thought of someone with as much skill as him dying hadn’t crossed my mind.  I really thought he was only out of contact. The idea that he would no long annoy me was appealing, but I also found myself dreading the idea of no distraction from my boring deskwork. 

Rodgers was probably wrong, has misidentified the body as Sena’s.  

“Palmer,” Rodgers’s second secretary, a dusty blond, appeared in the doorway between the two rooms of the office. “Close the door, would you?” She turned towards me and stared for several seconds after the door clicked. “Thoughts?”

“Sena wasn’t the genius we thought he was.”

“You do realize, don’t you, that you failed to support your subordinate?” Rodgers leaned back in her chair, left hand tapping on the wood of her desk.

“He told me he didn’t need help.”

“Still, don’t you think it strange? If this was a General’s pet project, you would think they would want Walker in on it.” She turned her head towards the door, but looked at me out of the corner of her eye.

“Maybe they didn’t recognize him.”

Rodgers moved so fast I didn’t see her turn. She stood, slammed both hands down on her desk, and gave me the most furious look I’ve even seen.

“I think the military killed him because he refused to help,” she snapped, “Human Creation is an act against God, you can’t mess with life.  And if the higher-ups of the military are messing around with that, have kept it hushed this long, they’re planning something. Something big. Damn it, Major,” she covered her eyes with a hand as she sank back into her chair, “You’ve killed us.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

Rodgers removed her hand and glared at me, hazel eyes hopeless and angry. “Wells hasn’t asked for any more information, has he? That’s because he already knows. He and whoever he’s been working with have kept this a secret for two years! I doubt we’re the first ones who’ve discovered anything, but I haven’t heard anything about this before. You know why?” I didn’t answer, but she wasn’t looking for one. “Because they aren’t alive to say anything. Walker is dead and we’re next.  And he was so young.” She trailed off and I halfheartedly scoffed at her motherliness.

“You should have come to me right away. I would’ve had you pull Walker out before this. Or at least keep your trap shut! You cost at least one soldier his life, and I wonder how many more.” She stood up and threw open the door to the other room in the suite.  I saw her lean over Agon’s desk and heard a snap. After a moment, I heard a hiss of pain.

“Agon, get that arm set and then you’re on medical leave.  Palmer, didn’t your aunt die yesterday? Go home. I don’t want to see either of you for awhile.”

They both sputtered and I watched them leave, Agon clutching his arm to his chest. When they left, Rodgers returned to her desk and dropped a bunch of broken pencils into her wastebasket. “You may have signed my death warrant Major, but I won’t let you bring down anyone else.”

I scoffed.  “No. No, you’re wrong. The military wouldn’t have anything to do with this.  Why would they?”

“You have another theory as to why they’ve escaped notice for two years? Why Walker is dead?”

“They’re just, just good at hiding the evidence. And there are lots of people here that no one would miss if they disappeared. Walker was, was careless.” I shifted my weight.

Rodgers scoffed and pulled out a bottle from a desk draw. Rum.  “Mark my words, I don’t know how, but we’ll be dead before the end of the month.”

“I don’t believe you,” I snarled and stomped out of the office, not waiting to be dismissed.

Once back in my office, I ordered my secretary on a whim to collect all files on Sena’s most recent case.  The folder she gave me wasn’t thick, but it was more than I had expected.  I remembered Sena coming in an checking with me every few days, but our interactions had fallen along the lines of Sena not having anything new and me scolding him for that. And also being really annoyed when he did show up after work to tell me new stuff.  Paper hadn’t been involved, but when I opened the folder I found my signature on mission reports I didn’t remember reading.

I read them then, from the request by the local police for military aid to the most recent report, a piece of paper Sena has slipped in underneath the office door that my secretary noticed Friday morning when she came in.  It was all there: the name of Sena’s contacts, the supplies the group was collecting, where it was coming from and how much, snippets of conversation the teen had overheard that concluded that the group Sena was with was just a single cell in a much larger group whose focus was to gain supplies that was then shipped to other places where the Creation was actually taking place.  Places that were never mentioned in regards to shipments more than once, where Sena guessed Creation was happening or supplies where being sent to for storage.  There was even a map of the country, one where my secretary had marked every place Sena mentioned, and the web was vast.  No wonder Sena had asked for help. 

And at the end of each of his reports, where there was a line for a supervisor’s signature, was his own name.  It was proof, damning proof in the military’s eyes, that he had known about the danger Sena was in and did nothing about it.  But there was nothing about Sena’s disappearance, and the article from Colsen sat isolated in the folder I had received it in.  Rodgers said the youth mentioned in the article was my subordinate, and despite the uniqueness of his looks  - gold hair and pale gray eyes – I had a hard time believing it still.  Sena had never failed at an assignment before; he had most likely gone to check out one of these other towns. Against my orders to stay put.  It was his fault I was in trouble with Rodgers!

With the idea of getting proof in mind, I left the office early after phoning my wife I would be late and bought a ticket at the train station for Colsen. An hour and a half later I found myself in the morgue staring at Sena’s face.

Everything Rodgers said suddenly struck me as true. That only the military had the resources to have so many cells all over the country and keep them hidden. And thus, it was the military that had brought about Sena’s death.  I hadn’t believed her crazy theory that those of us who knew about what Sena discovered were going to be killed either until three days later.  The house of the police chief Sena had been working with caught on fire, killing him, his wife, and son.

And yesterday headquarters had been in a panic because an accident on the training field involving a grenade killed two soldiers, one of them being Rodgers.  It’s in the paper today, I’m staring at it as it sits on the eating counter in the kitchen. My wife is measuring out the beans for coffee and the idea that this might be the last cup I ever have flits through my head.  I don’t want it to be.

I consider fleeing, emptying the banks and taking off for the border, but I don’t know any craft. I wonder if Wells would allow me to help him.

---

Figure 1) This is your typical Creation diagram. The strings and numbers you see make up the circles are the electron configuration of elements (or chemicals, depending on what the Creator is planning on doing).  In this case the elements are, from the top moving clockwise, gold, silver, and copper.  Please excuse my poor Illustrator skills, I'm still getting used to this new version.

---

Well, how many of you guess this was fanfiction? None? Good.

For a creative writing class I took this semester I took a fanfic I was working on and tried to make it read like an original fic.  And indeed, the story and characters of A Selfish Falling took off on a completely new track with only elements of the original fic and the anime it's based on left. Ideally.  I am trying to get published in the short story market, and for awhile toyed with submitting this one to a variety of markets, but despite how many revisions and adjustments this story has gone through I can't severe the connection between the original characters here and the anime character they are based on.  That's not to say they are super similar, half of my creative writing class takes Japanese and only one person even gave a hint that they thought this was based off an anime.  But still, I'm having a hard time completely separating the two in my head and so I'm never going to actually try to professionally publish this. It'll stay an AU/ Originalized version of my Fullmetal Alchemist fanfiction Breed a Better Mousetrap. (15K words and counting!)

For those of you who have already read/are reading Moustrap and came here from ff.net, the fic is not planned to end in any way similar to this piece. In fact, it has a happy ending, and a twist that is not mentioned in this version of the story at all.

 

In either regards, I'd welcome comments for further edits. I've done the ending three times now, but am still not to sure how to keep it from feeling rushed. 

Also, did any of you realize that Rodgers didn't actually break Agon's arm, but pretended to and broke the pencils instead?