Fandom Attack on Titan: Birds of Paradise

[alexfangtalon]

INTERACTIONS: Elke, Jo​

The summer night was one filled with joyous cries and blissful merriment. For most that is. Some weren’t exactly feeling the overflowing wonderment flooding out of their compatriots. One would think the top ten would hold the happiest members of the night, but for Anke, the standings of the top ten carried the absolute worst news she felt could come to her. She had tried so hard to get Krause to just flub the numbers and switch her with Elke but the wretched woman was having none of it.

While the people around her were eating and drinking like this was their last night on earth, Anke was feeling sick to her stomach. She did everything to hide this but she couldn’t get herself to take a bite or drink. The combination of some fear she couldn’t place with the sound of gnashing teeth ripping into meat set her on edge. It wasn’t exactly the same but meat being torn to shreds accompanied by chewing took her mind back to that day. The only saving grace she found was her sister by her side who seemed to have enough happiness to feel for both of them.

She seemed happy enough about the rankings but the drink and food were making her ecstatic. On the note of drink, it did appear as though Elke was partaking in it WAY too much. The twins had never really had an encounter with the sweat liquid before but even Anke knew that there were side effects to drinking a lot of it. She was trying but not necessarily succeeding at keeping Elke from consuming the nectar. She was nearing giving up until deciding to try one last thing and swap her flagon of water for Elke’s when the inebriated sister wasn’t looking.

She didn’t really see an opportunity to do so until Elke made a request of her. Reaching for the roast, Anke looked at Elke, ”You know we still have to work early tomorrow.” Placing the food on Elke’s plate she began cutting it for her sister and called out to the other side of the table, ”Hey, Jo, doesn’t a lot of this stuff give a really awful headache after?” As she tried to redirect Elke’s attention away from her to Jo, Anke made her move attempting to switch the drinks. Hopefully, Elke wouldn’t notice.

INTERACTIONS: Vivian, Anyone hiding in there rooms​

The young man was buzzed. The boy could feel his head swirling and it felt good. Heiko looked at the compatriots he had trained with and the new people from other divisions and started giggling. Who woulda thought that a bunch of kids partying the night away like this were also soldiers. This world was crazy but he saw each and every one of them as capable warriors for the people of the walls. The meat was also quite delicious and he soon found himself dancing around the tables with a piece of meat in one hand with a flagon of the good drink in the other.

Seeing some of his new compatriots looking gloomy about being split from their division the selfless moron took it upon himself to try and cheer them up. Roaming over to them he wrapped his arms around two of them, “Hey guys. I know being separated from friends can be hard but live a bit. They would *hic* want you to be happy like you want them to *hic* be. ENJOY TONIGHT!” Then with an alarmingly deadpan face and voice, “It could be your last!” He stared at them for a moment and hiccuped then burst out into laughter.

“Hehe, sorry. I’ve never been *hic* good at jokes. Well, I’ll leave you, soldiers, alone. Don’t drink yourself to death!” Then gulped down more of his flagon as he walked away. He looked at the people seated within the room and a puzzled look crossed his face. Putting the drink down he began counting the people he saw pointing the meat in his hand at them. It took a few tries but he realized at least one might be missing. He crossed his arms and grunted. That was a no-go. If someone was not feeling good then someone should do something about it. Tonight was one that should cause everyone to be happy. What they had been working years for was finally here.

Plastering his signature smile upon his face he took a bite of the handheld meat and began marching towards the barracks. “Tonight is one of celebrating.” He grabbed another drink and waltzed out of the mess hall. Stumbling on his way he may have spilled a bit of the drink but that didn’t matter when someone was down in the dumps. One by one he knocked on the doors and in a sing-song tone, “Anyone in there! I brought the party and the fare!” Not really waiting for a response he kept moving.

 

[Danidify]

ELYSE HILDEBRAND | Losing life on the count of 10. ​

She knew it all along.

“I don’t think I can make it.” Were her first words all those years ago when the plan was laid out before her- when her free will was stripped away. She wasn’t nearly as strong, brave, or motivated enough whatsoever, but it all negligible.

“You will. I’m certain of it.” Would always be her answer, no matter how many counter-arguments she could muster. Let me ask you this. How does one live up to the unrealistic?

Day and night she worked her ass off aiming for a title that others wanted for her, for that seat she didn’t even want to take herself. Every waking minute seemed to revolve around achieving greatness, when all she yearned for was freedom. Yet Elyse didn’t slack off- she wouldn’t dare. The noble pushed and pushed until she found herself standing at the ledge, incapable of going any further. Now, the ground crumbled beneath her, and the parachute on her back drove off with the wind right to the number 1 spot. There would be no nuance to save her; no loophole, no back-up plan, or outside help. She failed her one goal- her one duty, and there was no going back.

So why did she have to laugh so earnestly? Why did the grayscale world suddenly seem to turn into technicolour right before her eyes, when it should be bleeding all its vividness? And how come she felt as light as a feather when the grasp of iron around her ankles and wrists was supposed to tighten eternally?

This empty and invigorating feeling wasn’t fear or panic- no, it was freedom. Right from that moment of declaration, it seemed like all of earth’s thorny vines and bushes slipped away, unveiling the yellow brick road that would lead to dance, alcohol, and one hell of a party.

Perhaps a failure so big was just too dangerous for her mind to handle, with even entertaining the thought of trying to comprehend it all too daunting a task. In fact, what else could she do but to embrace the alluring virtue of blissful ignorance; than to lose herself in a night of celebration, drowning out even the loudest sounds of agony?

Speaking of agony, say hi to Ramiel’s bickering.

This.. being had been trying to stop her crusade before it had even truly started, but Elyse was having none of it. Drinks continued to pour and disappear, regardless of what mister top dog had to say.

“I’m fineeeee.” Treble hands scavenged the table for another bottle of liquid coping, rushing to pour another drink. Elyse’s voice slurred almost as much as her arms shook and waddled about as if her entire existence was a volatile yet evidently harmless wave of the ocean.

“Lighten up a little would you, you... grumpy man.” She’d continue to mutter, searching for a proper word at the end of her sentence to describe the buzzkill that was Mr. Diakos. Why was he so withholding after scoring the highest position anyone could wish for? She had no idea. Either way, Elyse wouldn’t just settle for these bad vibes. There was work to do.

Having sloppily poured herself another drink in the meantime, the noble’s attention shifted to the glass of her bodyguard, locking on like a predator to its prey.

“Wait- Here here here.” Her hand began to snake over the table again, attempting to lunge at Ramiel’s glass with a clear goal of handing him a drink as well. Elyse wouldn’t stop trying to get it until she succeeded.

Soon enough, her finish-line had been crossed: the glass was filled- albeit with some difficulty. Hildebrand’s motor skills weren’t exactly top-notch at the moment, so some of the precious liquid had unfortunately met the table rather than the bottom of the glass.

“Grab it.. Come on grab it.” She’d insist, weakly holding the glass up towards the broody blonde. Should he accept the glass, Elyse would smile gleefully, leaning back and grabbing her own glass to haphazardly raise it into the air.

“Here’s to first place, woo hoOOooOoo!” The glass was brought down, alcohol now dripping down her hand thanks to the amount of excessive spilling. Failing to be bothered by it whatsoever, Elyse ventured on with her intentions, bringing her glass towards that of Ramiel and clinking it against the side before taking another generous sip.

This would be one hell of a night.

 

[Serei2477]

Interacting: Elke, Anke

Mentions:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The announcement of the top ten had left Bee numb.

Most of the names that ranked weren't a shock to her, in all honesty. With each name that was called, Bee couldn't help rolling her eyes a bit. All of them were amazing in their own rights, with each person possessing many strengths in many different fields. They deserved their spots. However, when her name was called, Bee felt the air in her lungs leave her body. Her eyes had widened, and the shock of having made it into the top ten still hadn't registered.

Why wasn't Jewel called? He was the smarter one. He was the faster one. He could maneuver the ODM better. He was just... better than her in every way. So why was she called and not him? What was so special about her that they decided to give her a spot on the list?

She sat outside of the barracks with her back against the wall, her knees against her chest. Bee had to wonder what Jewel thought about this. Was he upset he didn't make it?

The sounds of footsteps caught her attention. She looked up, seeing an all too familiar figure approaching her, but the sun being behind him shadowed his front. Bee anticipated Jewel's sorrow and disappointment regarding the fact he failed to rank in the top ten. Or his worries of Gabriel seeing him as lesser than his younger sister.

She mentally prepared herself for the worst...

Jewel plopped down next to her. His arms reached around and pulled her into a tight hug, making Bee shift her weight onto one side.

"Look who made it into the top ten!" His smile was wide, bright with his happiness. "Congratulations! Finally someone else recognizes your talent."

"Wh-What?" Bee stared at him, shocked. "You're not upset?"

"Why would I be?"

"Because... they picked me over you?"

Jewel gave a small 'psh', "Did you think I'd be upset over that?" Bee stayed quiet for a bit, making him smile. "Well I'm not. I'm proud of you. In fact, I'd be bragging to everyone if they didn't already know."

Bee scratched the back of her neck, a smile gently formed on her lips. Jewel took the opportunity to speak again. "You making it into the top ten proves to Gabriel, to Krause, and to everyone here that greatness can come from anywhere. Even under the dirt."

It also proved to Gabriel that he made the right choice bringing Jewel and Bee to the surface. He already knew that Bee knew this.

That little thought seemed to cross her mind as well, because it looked like a weight was lifted from her shoulders.

"Do me a favor, Bee." Jewel continued. "We agreed the celebration is gonna be the only time and place where you can let yourself go. Use that time to have fun."

She looked at him."But parties and being social is your thing."

"With less excuses and more confidence, it can be your thing too." He countered, earning a soft punch against his arm from her which made him laugh. "So, am I gonna see you have fun?"

She looked at him."Sure, sure. But if anything happens, I have full permission to kick your ass."

"Deal."

---

One drink turned to two, which turned to five, which turned to about eight or nine. Bee and Jewel quickly discovered the taste of alcohol and the affects it had on the body. To them, it felt damn good to feel the fire of alcohol slithering down their throats. The warm feeling that bloomed within their chests as the consequences began to take affect. Bee, being the smaller one of the two, was the first to surpass her tolerance with Jewel following right behind her.

Three years ago, the twins would have never dreamed of being in this state around any of their comrades. However, after all these years of gradually becoming more civilized, learning more about the others and just how trustworthy some of them really were, the two finally decided to let their guards down completely. At least for this one time.

And boy did they.

The twins laughed with each other about nothing, both red in the face and stumbling a bit on their feet. They caught sight of the Vinter sisters, and instead of leaving them to their own devices per the usual, Jewel would take the side next to Elke and Bee would take Anke's side, with the older twin holding Elke in a hug and the younger holding Anke the same way.

Jewel and Bee both leaned in, the former kissing Elke's cheek and the latter kissing Anke's.

"Muah! Isn't it great to be done with... this?" He smiled widely, his hand gesturing to the general area to try and refer to the training.

"Muah! Congratulations being not last pally! Live a little won'tcha?" Bee looked a lot less aggressive in her current state. In fact, she looked downright approachable.


​

 

[Arcanist]

Jo Schreiber
Mentions: (soz won't be tagging all the top ten cause lazy xoxo) | Interactions: Elke ( M Moonlessite ), Laurie ( Colorless Spectrum ), Anke ( alexfangtalon ), Bee ( Serei2477 )

​

Jo’s stomach had been seized by cramps the whole day. Breakfast didn’t sit well with her that morning, and so she had eaten sparsely. The thought of this day, the 104th’s graduation, being the single most defining day in her short life, frightened her. All that work, that determination, entering the military for one defining reason, today would be the decider of that. She knew she needed to pull through. The Garrison wasn’t good enough. As she once said to Sera, it would never be her first choice. The Military Police ensured what problems she had, what she and her family had gone through, would wipe the slate clean.

A fresh start.

New beginnings for all of them.

Yes, that was why she was here. For them. For her family.

Everyone had noticed Jo’s antsy behaviour. It was a foreign concept, the pacing, the dishevelled bed head, her regular scowl, replaced with a tight-lipped expression of foreboding. Sure, Jo had softened these three years with the company she kept, but it was odd to see her don vulnerability so publicly. Lena had pointed out, teasingly, she needed some colour from her hair to inject back into her face. Though, she had expressed some concern about that paleness of hers all the same. Jo wasn’t there to reassure anyone of her condition though. She didn’t have it in her to play the big sister who said everything would be alright, like she had been so used to doing.

‘Odontophobia is the fear of teeth.’

Jo’s nerves hadn’t shifted any when the ceremony had begun. Rows and rows of fresh soldiers, all in formation, hands-on-heart, arms across their back at the beginning of the ceremony. She tried to keep her expression stony throughout the explanations of the three divisions – or rather, two, for those not in the top ten – they could join. She urged the commanders, Krause, to hurry the ceremony along. And yet, as they edged closer to the announcement everyone was busting to hear, she wanted them to delay it.

Jo realised it was all coming to an end.

They started from number one. Ramiel. Jo didn’t expect to make it all the way to the top, not with him in this year’s training squad.

Then, came two and three, Hal and Leon, positions she didn’t think she would skim the top of anyway. Powerful fighters. She hadn’t the physique to keep up to them.

Fourth. Sera’s tenacity had gotten her this far. She deserved it.

Fifth was Anke. Another tight contender. Both her and Sera’s determination had propelled them far, to the point where they would have been neck-in-neck either way.

Number six; Nina. Jo wasn’t sure why, but she was surprised at the ranking. She tried to be happy for her.

But sixth was when she had started sweating.

‘Cats sleep 16 to 18 hours per day.’ Jo guessed that was right. The grey tabby that lay in their old house’s flowerbed proved that fact.

At seven, Jericho. It made sense. He had made many strides of improvement in his time here. He was more flexible in a battlefield than she was. She hated to admit it, but she would have put him above her.

Eighth. She had to be eighth.

Eighth was Vivian. Jo felt a strange tug at her heart, a conflicting battle between pride and jealousy rumbling in her chest.

She wasn’t going to make it, was she?

She tried so hard not to sway on her feet, to quell the drumming of her heart in her ears. She felt terror grip at her, to drag her under the very ground she was trying to keep her balance on.

Number nine…

Number nine of the top ten…

…was her.

Joanna Schreiber.

For the briefest second, Jo froze. She believed it was a sick joke. She thought it was over for her. Before her name could be called again, she stepped forward, just like the other top ten had, before proceeding forward to the front.

Number ten was Bianca, or ‘Bee’. A tough woman who had quite literally and metaphorically made it to the top. It was admirable in Jo’s eyes, given where she and her brother had come from originally.

When Jo stood on that platform, among the other top ten cadets, though stunned and light-headed from the day’s worth of worrying, the pride she felt was electrifying. The deep satisfaction, the knowledge that she knew that she made it.

Finally. Things would change.


Jo was ravenous. But the first thing she hadn’t gone for was the food. Oh no, it was the alcohol that lay waiting that she seized first. Unfortunately, seeing as her stomach had been forced to simulate a barren desert for most of the day, what little mead she did take went straight to her head…which was what led to the butchering of meat and potatoes she had managed to gather on her plate.

“Laurie, you’re not gonna eat that, are you? Ahhh, thank youuu…” She sung, stabbing her fork into a slab of meat and dropping it onto her plate without waiting for an answer. It was a surprise she wasn’t simply tearing it apart with her hands rather than using a knife and fork. Though, Jo understood that her hand-eye coordination was starting to be severely lacking, to the point her plate was starting to resemble an abstract painting.

As Jo grinded the meat with her teeth, cutting at a potato haphazardly in the meanwhile, she had the sense to stop cutting when Anke addressed her. She grinned, putting down her knife, and pointing a potato skewered on her fork at Anke. “Yes—but there’s a few tricks to not getting a headache,” she explained, slipping the potato into her mouth, chewing, then swallowing. Thus, began her theory as she turned to Elke, not noticing Anke trying to switch her sister’s drink.

“So, if you line your stomach up with food – like me, of course – drink plenty of…uhh…what’s it…water, water!” Jo snapped her fingers at finding the right answer, before continuing, “yeah, plenty of that in between drinks, uhh…big breakfast…good sleep…later on that is. Yeah!” The woman gave a great grin, stabbing her fork into a piece of meat. To be so jovial instead of the rigid and uptight air she usually gave off, was another foreign sight for many recruits.

It was when Jewel and Bee arrived, giving some gracious kisses to the two younger twins, that Jo was thoughtful for a moment, before she pointed out, “Number ten!” to Bee before gesturing to Anke, “and number five! Multiples of five, and you both have a twin! What’s the odds of that happening?!”

It made sense as some sort of conspiracy theory to Jo in her head.

 

[Castello]

Leon Monar - Grudgingly Celebrating
Interactions - None, Open
Mentions - None

»»————-　　————-««​

There was an indistinct nature to the memory. It was cold, unfiltered, distant and out of his reach. Leon remembered the day sunny but recollection stung like hail. There were faces and figures reaching out to him, trying to speak but the words were vain and distorted. The memory crept itself cryptically onto Leon, beckoning to be heard by some unseen force, clawing its way through his heart. Leon reached his hand through deep and viscous memory, desperately trying to reach it. There was a liquid feeling before he could finally grapple onto something. It was smooth and comforting in a way he had forgotten, in a way that even made him feel guilty.

It finally hit him incandescently, the sun now covered him like a warm blanket and the face that was once distorted smiled at him, a sheltering beam he could remember as his mother’s. The feeling once again became clouded and bitterly nostalgic. Their hands interlocked and he tried to offer a smile to her but he was not sure if it was reaching her. His mother guided him to a small farm, offering the taste of a once sweet, yet soured past. Olfactory senses reminded him of a simple time, times where he felt he had control. There were animals feeding on the bounty of a meadow, dogs dutifully herding sheep and a certain stable that brought profound memories. Stable doors that coaxed him into their concealings and eventually hooked him like a rope and drew him into their quarters.

His hand released from his mother’s, rushing towards the stable doors which opened like air. Inside were horses, cows and pigs. The sounds were loud and perhaps to an untrained ear, they’d be considered obnoxious but to Leon there was nothing more comforting. Cats were nestled into the hay and a dog and her puppies rushed through the entrance of the stable and out to the other side. There was little emotion Leon felt, something of which granted him an unusual sense of tranquility.

Something suddenly felt awry. There was a cold lump in Leon’s throat. He could feel the heat escape from his body like smoke from a burning house. The stable doors slammed behind him as if they were closed by a mighty gale. What once had been lit up by the pleasant sun was now completely pitch dark. A new emotion flared up--fear. Leon dashed his head around, not sure whether he was looking for an answer or for someone to save him. What was once a stable was now abyss. With every step he took and every cry he uttered, his feet only slipped deeper into a bog. It was nothing he could swim through, nailing his body into the ground until eventually he was only a head gasping for air. He stood there for what felt like an eternity. Time punctured him like needles until finally the light of a forlorn lantern lit up above him. A long-haired woman stood above him with two figures in tow. Leon’s eyes met them until reality dawned.

He jolted up with eyes shooting open like lightning. It was cold again, it did not sting but the harshness of truth found him crestfallen. Leon’s grip slowly returned as he looked at the lantern hanging above him. He was in the horse’s stable on base. To his right was a mare he had begrudgingly called Potato and underneath them was a bed of hay she had so welcomingly scooted over for him. Not far was a small barn cat who found the spot in between them exemplary. Leon even unlocked a smile for this feline. He offered a capricious chuckle as he rubbed his hand through its soft fur.

He could see the moon out the window and placed carefully in front of it was the mess hall. Leon could hear the yelling and laughing, he could almost picture all the blushed faces and slurred tones. Through his eyes, all this seemed like a painting, however. It was colorless, morose and while everyone was feeling the fruits of delirious intoxication, Leon could only picture the future. This painting was only a tribute to a past that will be soon forgone. It’ll only be painted over with bloody pleads and excruciating cries. Hopes that burn bright today with aspirations will only be trampled over until every last morsel of morale is drained, until every inch of remorseful optimism is charred to ash. Had no one seen the expression of the soldiers after the wall had fallen? Did they not happen to take note of the despondent survivors? Where the hell did they get the notion that being a soldier was anything worth celebrating? Leon could not be mad at them, in truth he felt a searing ping of envy.

To be that carefree was something Leon was willing to put himself through the scorching depths of hell for.

 

[homintales]

Sera Mayer​

After the conversation with August out in the forest came to an end, Sera and August quickly returned to the rest of their Comrades in order to celebrate on a larger scale. “Hey everyone!” Sera greeted all of the other Recruits as she joined the party.

“See you later Auggie.” She said a quick goodbye to August, wanting a chance to relax with no one other than herself for a while. Not that she didn’t enjoy his company. She would make sure to find him after the party was over.

It didn’t take long to notice that a few people were already intoxicated and making fools of themselves. Heiko, Elyse, Jewel and Bee were all clearly not in any kind of condition to fight in the event Titans were to suddenly attack.

Fair enough. Sera herself was almost finished walking the path leading to full on intoxication. A couple more sips of Wine, if it was even available thanks to the price it was going at, was all she needed. If only she hadn’t tossed that canteen.

She did end up making an attempt to retrieve it. However, the amount of sugar in the wine that poured out and onto the ground thanks to the impact managed to attract the attention of several Arachnids. Needless to say, the canteen was no longer Sera’s property.

Wine was available to the Recruits of course, in fact there was quite a lot of it, more than Sera could ever see to consuming. But then she caught the scent of something sweet. It wasn’t the scent of rum, that was all too obvious, nothing could top it. Still, mead is the second greatest option when it comes to Alcohol.

Instead of picking up a few glasses and leaving some mead for everyone else, Sera chose to take a few containers of Mead and take a seat at an empty table with them. Out of the corner of Sera’s eye she saw Jewel and Bee kissing Anke and Elke on the cheek. She would need some time before she was the kiss people without asking first kind of intoxicated.


Mentions: Anke, Elke, Jewel, Bee, and August (Best Boy)

 

[Colorless Spectrum]

Laurence Arnault

Finally, their three years of grueling training under Krause has come to an end but it was a bittersweet feeling to Laurie. It felt like death was looming closer, he was joining the scouts after all and when they decide to do an expedition outside the walls... he could be one of the casualties. That's what he wanted right? To be free of the pain and the void? "Laurie, you’re not gonna eat that, are you? Ahhh, thank youu…" His eyes followed his drunken best friend. What would she feel when the scouts come back with just a piece of his body? No, he doesn't want to think. He'd only waiver more than he already has.

"Geez, Jo. I think you're drunk already." He quipped, bringing a hand to his mouth to cover his laughter. It wasn't every day you get to see Joanna Schreiber like this. He didn't mind that she had taken his share of food though. That's right, he had to stop thinking like that. Today was a celebration after all. From the corner of his eye, he saw Anke switch out Elke's drink, he couldn't help but smile to himself as he moved his head slightly sideways. "Don't eat too much or else you'll be puking later." He stood up, giving Jo's shoulder a squeeze before excusing himself.

"Laurieeee..." Someone slurred his name, he felt the weight of a sturdy arm draping his shoulders. He knew full well who it was.

Oh, how he could smell the alcohol from the younger cadet. "Noah, you're wasted already?" Laurie said worryingly. The celebration had only started and yet this one had already gotten himself high on the alcohol's effect, he foresaw this. Knowing that Noah cannot handle his liquor. He took the mug of grog away from his spikey friend and placed it down on the nearest table.

"Kinda... I'm getting there. Ugh, I can't believe I didn't make it to the top ten." He whined, waving his free hand to the unused space. "You know, you're irritating, Laurie." He breathed out, Noah's eyes were heavy but they were glistening against the light. The older cadet didn't have time to react as his inebriated companion spoke further. "You're so much like my perfect older brother and I hate it. I hate him... but he was also the only person who always took my side."

"Is that so?" Laurie asked, before the other nodding in response. "You've been like a little brother to me anyway." He gave the back of Noah's spiked hair a pat as they reached the barracks, remembering that the closest thing he had to little brother's was the Schreiber twins. He placed Noah at the nearest bunk bed and tucking him in.

Noah's gold-colored eyes flitted around the room. "Why ahm I here? I'm... not shleeepy."

"Yes, you are," Laurie replied with a smirk, having Noah as a bunkmate for three years, he'd like to think he knew a lot about the teenager. "Get some sleep."

When he was finally on his way back to the mess hall, he found an odd yet striking color by the grass. He walked towards the figure, his shoes crunching the meadow beneath. Well, he always lacked that one thing she was very good at, being stealthy. "Gwen." His bright blue eyes found the woman laying on the grassy field. He kneeled, poking a finger to her nose. "Keeping a bottle of booze to yourself, that's selfish of you." He joked before continuing, "Want some company?"

mention: Anke Elke|| interaction: Arcanist . D O V E

 

[SpookyBones]

Mentions: Serei2477 alexfangtalon M Moonlessite​

An array of heads engulfed him, bobbing about the hall like driftwood on an incoming tide, eager to swallow the sand. “Fucking crowds.” he mumbled bitterly. Many of them were now babbling wrecks thanks to the sweet liquor they’d suckled all night long, others were solemn with heads cradled in calloused hands from missing a spot in the so-called elite 10. His stomach churned for them, many of the poor sods had dedicated every inch of their purpose to making that fickle list that meant everything and absolutely nothing; a mere battle of brawn and brains. Milo had always believed that resilience and an unfaltering nerve could get you just as far in battle as sheer muscles. Proud grins adorned the visages of most of the top 10 whilst some not unlike him, felt a sense of guilt for their positioning.

Graduation in the Northern Division had taken place a just over a week early in light of the increase in titans here in the South, though they never got a chance to celebrate the conclusion of the last three grueling years. He remembered feeling unnervingly calm on that morning, self-assurance buzzing within. His instructor began calling the names: Jona, Casius, Astrid. Unexpectedly, his heart began to sink a little, his mother’s taunting words seeping into his skull, cowardice and disappointment overcame him. I promised I would make her proud, he had to, he couldn’t fail his loved ones again, please not again. Within a moment his ribs no longer seized his lungs, fists unclenched, teeth ceased gnawing. “Milo Sauer”, 5th place. Mother would be proud right? It wasn’t the top 3 but it was something. Realisation struck, he shook his head, as if willing the serpent's venomous tongues to slither out his ears; he repeated to himself ‘I am enough’.

Pursuing a quiet corner, he sat himself upon a splintering bench, tables lavished with fine meats excited his growling stomach. He was inclined to have fun, let loose a little like he could with his friends but the looming fear inhibited him, anxious of the intentions of his new clan. Maybe a sip of wine wouldn’t hurt, or so he thought. He gazed upon those he hoped one day he could call friends, to his amusement he found not one, but two sets of twins showering the other with giddy kisses, if it wasn’t for the fact he’d been nursing the same glass he’d be convinced he was seeing double. Milo found solace in this loving display, a slight burn on his heart as he longed to have a companion beside him; he slumped his jawbone into a crevice of his palm and instinctively brought his knees to his chest, without a second thought Milo searched for love in the bottom of his tankard.

 

[. D O V E]

Gwen Bulwark​

The sky ahead of her was dark. Normally, there would be the twinkle of the stars, making the view look like a black canvas bestrewed with tiny dots of colors. Tonight, though, there was nothing but the darkness. Perhaps it was because of all the liquor in her system (she had been chugging booze all night after all), or perhaps they've all simply died down? Have they grown tired of shining so bright and so unreachable over foolish little beings such as humans? Well whatever the case may be, there was only one thing she was sure of. There was a certain murk over her eyes, obscuring her vision.

She hated the emptiness; it forced her mind to conjure something to fill it up. Which was why she had no idea why she was out here- away from the boisterous mess hall and instead lying on a lea while staring at nothingness. Maybe in the end, she did enjoy the visions in her head.

A pool of blue... a soft hymn... a woman...

"...Huh?" An unfamiliar sensation trickled down from the corner of her eyes. She reached forth to brush them off, slightly shaking her head in the process. Damn. She probably drank too much... or not enough. She should head back to the mess hall and challenge everyone to a drinking competition. Perhaps the boring bunches would be more amusing when inebriated. It'd be unfortunate if they never get to have fun before becoming titan food.

Yes... she should do that.... after a five-minute rest. She closed her eyes, lowering her hands back onto the lush grass before breathing deeply. The wind felt nice against her skin, and the distant noise balanced the stillness. Alas, this was disrupted by the sound of sluggish footsteps. There were only about three people who'd willingly approach her in this context, and the gentle pace narrowed it down to one.

Emerald eyes fluttered open as soon as she felt Laurie's fingertip against the tip of her nose. She scrunched them, narrowing her gaze at the fetching boy ahead. "How dare you accuse me of keeping a bottle to myself." Her words held no venom as she gripped one end of her jacket and opened it, revealing another beneath. "I'm keeping two." She proudly huffed, lips curling into a cheshire grin.

"Oh my! The darling of 104th would rather hang out with good ol' me than drink his heart away in the mess hall. My maiden heart is practically jumping with joy. Tell me, to what do I owe this honor?" She raised a brow, internally wondering how he even found her (not that she was exactly hidden) before releasing a dramatic gasp. "Don't tell me you were... stalking me?" She playfully scooted away from Laurie and hugged the booze closer to her chest in a seemingly terrified manner.

Colorless Spectrum

 

[ShadyLady]

Interactions: SpookyBones
Mentions: Raiden​

Six. Had Nina expected it? No. She was pleased, relieved the moment the names rang out in the air, announcing those who’d worked hard enough and excelled over their peers and her own had been there. Accomplishment surged her into a proud salute and level stare that faltered the moment it landed on those around her and her silent comparisons to them began. Doubt came in, quiet elation rotting into her own dubiety. Was she even worthy?

✣✣✣​

Celebrating, that’s what she was supposed to be doing. The drink in her hand weighed like lead, a taste bitter on her tongue before she’d even taken the slightest of sips. Getting into the top ten had been what she’d wanted, and she’d done it. Why did it weigh heavy on her heart? Perhaps it was the doubt that she could have performed better, that no matter what she did her efforts were fruitless. Maybe it was how he hadn’t gotten into the top ten, but she’d made the cut whilst his efforts plunged at the most crucial moment. If it wasn’t those, then it was the trickling unease at the idea of joining the Survey Corps. She’d made a promise to choose that division. Certainty had flooded and fuelled her in the moment, but the prospect loomed daunting as the days passed her by.

Nina placed her wine down, making a poor attempt to bury her troubles and enjoy herself. Jubilation and glee lighted the faces of most in the hall as she glanced at the different figures dotted around her. Instinctively, her eyes shifted to rest on a familiar blond and pale ice met cerulean pools as their glances caught. A breath lodged in her throat, an unspoken tension stretching across the room and binding her gaze to him, pulling taut and snapping. A pang of hurt twinged in her chest when Luka’s eyes didn’t remain on her. Another acrid tang settled in her mouth, the food she was picking at tasted like ash and the redhead decided she’d leave.

Her feet moved mechanically, only pausing at the sight of someone who seemed to be more miserable than her. It was an acquaintance she’d had the pleasure of meeting a few days prior. If Nina remembered correctly, he was Milo, a somewhat rude and snarky but intriguing young man. A slight crease etched into her freckled skin as her brows furrowed, watching the forlorn sight of him drinking alone raised the beginnings of pity stirring within her. The redhead hesitated, looking to the exit before watching the brown haired man take another dragging sip and she caved, heading to his tucked away table and seating herself opposite him without even asking if she was welcome.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, sweetie,” Nina let a weak smile claim her lips as she cooed, a gentle sharpness to her dulcet tone, quiet in the thrum of the celebration and lacking it’s usual chirpiness, “you don’t strike me as the type who likes people, nevermind parties.”

 

[Raiden]

Trost District Headquarters, Mess Hall — Graduation Night, 850
Interactions: KaramelKarma (Jericho), Arcanist (Jo), M Moonlessite (Elke), alexfangtalon (Anke), Serei2477 (Bee & Jewel)
Mentions: ShadyLady (her)
​

Eleventh. The culmination of his three-year endeavors, all of those long nights spent busted and blue, the old Luka Soroka that he'd cut away like the clutch of hair that used to dangle at the back of his neck. Eleventh. A number almost as many as the empty flagons of mead, beer, wine, whatever the hell it was that were scattered along the tabletop after his consumption. Yet, the disappointment remained immeasurable. "D-d-duuu-aaaaaarnnnnnnn it!~" the blond shouted aloud, his face entirely flushed in deep crimson as it was obvious that the soldier was deeply under the influence of too much alcohol. Not making the Top Ten meant that he wasn't going to be able to join the Military Police, and that meant that he would never be able to reach Seth like his parents had wanted, barring a crackshot of luck. Garrison or Survey Corps, huh... "Wee-uuuull, I'm in sum colossal SHITE, ain't I, Jurry???"

Sat across from Luka was his surrogate brother, their arms engaged in an extreme contest of strength as it was always clear that Jericho was the stronger one of the pair. All around them were the rest of the family, who were just as fervently indulgent in the festivities as they were. It had been a night of many firsts for the young man; his first taste of the luxurious cuisine that was typically restricted to the Sinalite nobility, his first sip of alcohol and the adverse effects of drinking too fast too furious, the first time that he locked eyes with her since that night... 'Guess some things never change,' the infrequent coherent thought crossed his mind when he'd caught himself staring in her direction, feeling his head spin when their gazes locked together in a moment of clarity. Together... he'd felt human in the allure of those blue eyes, vulnerable yet sheltered by the only person who truly knew the clockwork within his heart. Yet, it was those very same blue eyes that now tore his chest asunder, lacerations so deep that living was like walking through a hail of arrows with a target tacked onto his heart. It would have been a terrifying feeling for most people, but for someone like him, it was more natural than laughing.

'Where should we start then, Sunshine?'

He'd always known it from the start, but Luka didn't know why he still found himself glued to her baby blues, even now. He might've played it off then and there, but in this fragment of time, he had to resist the desire to ask her if everything was okay. Not yet. The boy was the first to resign from their match of misery, his leer almost reluctantly drifting to the ground from his downtrodden position on the imaginary board as he turned away to face Jericho once more. That was when he realized that his right arm had already been slammed into the wood below in defeat, prompting him to cast a vexing glare towards Jericho. "Eeeeleeeeffuuunn," his slurred voice cried out in a drunken tantrum, having counted the total amount of times that Jericho had beaten him in arm wrestling in the current span of the night. There it was again, in an odd twist of fate; eleven. "F-f-fu-huck elefun!! Yous cheating me, JURRY!!!"

Taking one of the rib bones that Luka had cleaned of its meat, the soldier brandished the makeshift weapon like a knife, waving it towards Jericho as he wore as threatening a look as an overly-drunken boy could possibly muster. Several of the non-intoxicated graduates chuckled in his direction, since it was very obvious that he wouldn't have a recollection for a significant part of the celebration. "I'll finish yew when I git back, dun guh anywhere, baas-tert~"

The boy stumbled several times as he rose from the table, staggering towards the section of the mess hall that seemed like the liveliest. He stopped in complete astonishment upon seeing the silhouette of twelve blonde-haired figures, half of which were similar to the Vinter twins while the other half reminded him of Bee and Jewel. For an unintelligible reason, it started to piss him off. "O-o-oi, schtop movin'," Luka planted his palms against the table where they were all congregated around, pointing the bone in the direction of both twin pairs. "I caan't she te twulve o' ya," he barely managed to keep himself standing before crumpling into the seat across from two mirror images of a familar face. His mind instinctively raced upon recognizing her as his fellow scholar Jo, prompting him to lean forward.

"Hey, hey, hey, HEY!" Luka slammed the bone against the table in an attempt to garner everyone's attention around him, a wicked grin on his face. "Wuhdayya call a Titan wit uh weak-niss ta darts?" tears began to well in his eyes as he would burst into a howl of hideous laughter and bang the bone against the tabletop upon the conclusion of his joke. "A-TACK ON TITAN! AHHHHHAHAHAHA!"

 

[lion.]

I am nothing
but a sacrifice
but will you give
me up so easily?

RAMIEL DIAKOS

What would he be?

But, first.

Ramiel Diakos—who had guarded the rank for so long— accepted it with a metallic smile. He stood like an engineer of the present, sowed golden in hair that also commuted into his raving eyes. Ramiel had reached the pinnacle of success, but that was it.

The end.

His thoughts were once more rampant, and his desires were again: unchecked. In this corroded world, he did it all. He ran. He profusely practiced, actively trained with others, sat and slept. Somehow, he was purely convinced that he had been wrong all along. Power was his dark heaven if it existed, but now he wondered: what was descent? If he jumped, then perhaps he could be back to filthy beginnings. As time hums, he’d be simply just there to acknowledge what was really grating like a skeleton in his mind.

He wasn’t searching for power or wealth; he was looking for a surrender.

One head knelt before his columnar figure in a chair. An apology conversing through nightly pale, quivered lips.A poring fog of tobacco smoke interesting Ramiel Diakos to cut his satin gloves across his lap.

Liberally, with two crow-like eyes, he’d playfully quip, “What’s the matter, Mr. Hildebrand?”

There were times his borrowed uprightness didn’t want that, but then he’d be lying, and Ramiel Diakos never lied.

Mr. Hildebrand was one opinion and his daughter was another.

It was a novelty—in his omniscient perspective—to find Elyse showing symptoms of intoxication. In a site cornered by walls of naturally baked upholstery and overflowing with the militaristic gentry, he thought just maybe he would put in pathetic efforts to lift her from her loss of not making it in the top ranks. She, paradoxically, did it all on her own.

With a dim eye that’s slickened by the scrolled ends of his light eyelashes, he warned her many times to let go of the drinks. The dapperness within her gesticulations was growing faster than the child of a moon outside, and the wheel of her walk was spinning out like thread from silk from sure steps to those that cavort with a pep. She was less recognizable, and though he saw her daily, her brown hair tonight was the thousands of bridges a wanderer had walked; they formed curls or bid to remain straight. Her chiffon shirt sat on her torso at the right angles, but tucked looser into her buttoned slacks. Exactness was part of his responsibility, and he could account for every bit of a difference on her, aside from acknowledging the greatest, which was the rose flush adjacent to her pointed ears.

“Slow down,” Ramiel commented again later that evening in an oratory that was thick with indignance, “You’re drinking like a tavern girl. If your darling, sweet mother knew...” An tenor of humor flitted on the edge of his mouth.

His outlook stalled on the farrago of rum cups and barrels before him. They bundled on the table like desolate towns; some lustered with a translucent polish of wood wax while others took on washed-down bay tones. If he let one knock one over… what would happen to those cobbled homes? The 104th cadets, him included, couldn’t let that happen.

It was just alcohol, so he shouldn’t have had a reaction when her pacifying fingers swept over his when she handed him a glass.

“Here’s another suggestion-” Ramiel added with an oblique countenance when their glasses clinked, “Let’s also toast to the wonderful hangover you are going to have tomorrow.”

Her empress of browns were so consonantly out of her vendetta against him. It might’ve been the booze that gave her a second birthday, and a duplicate personality. He imposed his cup onto the table, his hands jerkily searching his pockets. Acquainted with a handkerchief, he forced it out.

“Enlighten me,” he said suddenly, unfolding the banner of cloth, and impatiently pulling her by the hand that was empty of her drink, “Are you humiliated?”

Methodically pinching the cloth to her arm with his agile fingers, the rest of his limbs locked. Holding onto her unsteady fingers that were latched to her glass, he wiped the dribble of alcohol going downwards from the span of her arm. Lingeringly, the ethanol soaked up ino the cloth as did his frigidity to his charity of thoughtfulness. The price of proximity was that the bazaar of the loud crowd effaced: the air was still hot, and while there was still energetic activity ongoing by his yellow filtered compatriots, it was more greatly unclear. The aspects of her became much more apparent. Without so much as awaiting her answer, he formulated, “No. It’s not that.”

He had always tried to be blunt and honest when he was serving her. He held her hand, still, as if he was pondering and put her under his scrutiny.

“Then, why? Why are you doing this?”

code by ditto (head empty go bonk)
​

 

[Colorless Spectrum]

Laurence Arnault

A laugh rang out of the field that they were at. Of course, he should have expected surprises when it came to Gwen. Even after three years, he could never really figure her out. She was still that mysterious teenager he met that night while walking unknowingly to the stables. "You shouldn't drink two whole bottles to yourself." He scolded lightly. He wasn't really chiding, just a simple reminder. Besides he can't take away the fact that they were all celebrating and drinks went hand in hand with that.

He sat down beside his fiery-haired friend, an elbow propped against his leg as he leaned his cheek to his hand. "I don't really plan on drinking," He said whilst looking to the sky, letting out a low whistle as the winds picked up their pace. "No! I just wanted to get some fresh air when I saw you here. Besides, wasn't it you who followed me around?" He shrugged, a teasing grin on his face. He didn't really mind it, it wasn't like Gwen did anything harmful to him. He learned quite a bit from it and not just that but…

A moments passed with the cry of the cicadas. "Hey." He said suddenly all serious with his tone. His eyes furrowed, unsure how to continue. "I wanted to thank you." For a lot of things. Even if Gwen didn't make it to the Top Ten, her family can pull some strings and get her there… right? Jo will be going there too. He needs to talk to her too. "You're, as much as I'd hate to say it, strange. I don't get you, sometimes you're joking around, and sometimes I think you're saying the truth. I can't get a glimpse of what goes on in your head but I feel like I could always count on you and not just that, but you saved me more times than you could have imagined."

He still looked down, his smile was replaced with a forlorn frown. "I'm glad to have met you and have you as a friend, Gwen." He pushed his thumbs together, playing in his mind Gwen's possible reaction to his words and which of it would come true. His blue eyes stared at the bottle of alcohol, debating if he should take a sip.

mention: Joanna|| interaction: . D O V E

 

[Moonlessite]

MENTIONS: alexfangtalon [Anke], Serei2477 [Jewel & Bee], Arcanist [Jo], Raiden [Luka]
​

Elke was more than pleased to see that her sister had done as she asked. The scent of freshly roasted meat wafted off of her plate and straight into her nose, causing her to drool. She had eaten a lot, but she could really use the extra serving. If she was going to be a Scout that meant she needed all of the food she could get! She turned to Jo as the red-haired girl began to answer Anke's question, not noticing the complicated procedure that the latter was doing right under her nose. Before she could turn to look at her sister again, she felt someone wrap an arm around her and peck her on the cheek. Elke turned to the boy, her smile wider than it was before. "I don't think I've ever gotten kissed by anyone else than auntie like that before!!" Elke drawled out as she wrapped her arm around Jewel's shoulder and brought him in for a hug tighter than the one he had given her. "Sit and drink with us! We need more less grumpy people around here, and sis doesn't want to drink so I'm boredddddd!"

She reached towards her tankard and took a sip, but instead of being subjected to the sweet, sweet honey tones of the mead, her lips were met with the boring taste of water. Elke immediately spit it out and sprayed nearly the whole table with partially swallowed, lukewarm water. "Ankeeeeee!!! I don't want this stinky water! Give me the good stuff! Jo said I can drink as long as I eattttttt!" she yelled out a little louder than she probably should have, reaching out towards the closest flagon and downing half of it without even checking what was in it. This cup was not filled with the honey mead, but with something that stung her mouth and throat as it spilled down her gullet. The liquid warmed her stomach and made her insides feel much hotter than before.

Next person to come around to their table was Luka. His approach startled her so much she almost peed herself, but his joke drew her attention away from her full bladder. For a long moment, she stared at Luka in a half-dazed state, blinking her eyes slowly as her befuddled mind processed the information. Then, laughter suddenly spilled out of her laps, and her sides heaved as she gulped in mouthfuls of air between her breaks in cackling. "O-ohh, that's-- that's too good, that's hilarious! It's... it's so funny, I-" she laughed again, slamming her fist against the wood of the table as she wheezed. "Tell that joke to the Titans, Luka! Tell 'em, they'll think it's funny, I swear to--"

Her stomach turned and something vile bubbled up into her throat. Elke swallowed, but her head suddenly didn't feel like it was screwed on straight anymore. Everything swam in front of her and made her feel sick to her gut. "Ugghhhmmmm... I don't... feel so..." she tipped to the side, then straightened herself again, as her face began to change color from the rosy pink that had flushed her cheeks to a very pale, sickly green.

​

 

[Danidify]

ELYSE HILDEBRAND | Losing life on the count of 10. ​

Elyse bubbled in earnest joy, happy to live naively even if just for a moment. With no worry in the world, she sat happily atop rose-coloured clouds, basking in the heat of alcohol-induced sunshine. Yet thunder had to strike eventually, and so the clouds slowly grew heavy.

“Hangover? HAH” The cup in her hand jolted up as a dramatic, clearly forced laugh escaped her mouth, another volatile wave of alcohol escaping right down onto the wooden beach below.

“You think I’m afraid, huh? It’ll be worth it- so worth it.” Elyse would add, soon following her statement with a visual demonstration of how little she cared. Slurred moves carried the cup up to her lips, allowing her to take a thorough gulp of ale before her best friend - Mr. Cup - greeted the table once again. Her face couldn’t help but shrivel up decisively, but that didn’t stop the trainwreck from ensuing. Today’s night wasn’t about logic, it was about denial, and Elyse liked to keep it that way.

Like the shade of dusk pushing away a bright afternoon, the noble could always count on Ramiel to hit her with a brick of cynical and/or cutthroat realism. On any other day, she would’ve jabbed back with a sassy remark, but her mind wasn’t exactly up to the task right now.

A puzzled gaze shone down as Elyse tried to make sense of the situation, as she watched Ramiel clean up some of the alcohol that had rained on her arm and hand. Not exactly used to acts of kindness from this enigma of a man, her immediate instinct was to pull away. Her strength, however, couldn't keep up, leaving only a few shakes and incoherent groans of reluctance to protect her from her protector.

“N-not at allll- I’m greaaaat, can’t you see? Just partying, having a good ti-”

Abruptly cut off by another strike of lightning, the noble felt invigorated to fight back, annoyance forming in her eyes only to dwindle away in an instant when the final blow arrived.

“Why are you doing this?”

Dazed by the abrupt flash of light, Elyse’s expression stalled in neutrality for a bit as her emotions fought for a decisive course of action. First came a feigned smile and chuckle; the residue of denial, soon followed by dulling eyes as the corners of her mouth sank into the deep. Suddenly, her clouds seemed to grow dark with rain, pastels making way for the crude palette of reality.

"Wow."

What a way to sober up.

“Why are you asking this? Don’t pretend like you don’t know the answer already.” Eyes strayed away as her voice played an atonal piece of sulky and irritated tones, all subdued by the subtle underlining of hesitance. Her voice grew quieter and less lively, animated limbs now falling without vigour. Swiftly, she pulled her hand away, attempting to build her walls back up.

Lay the foundation.

“I.. wasted three years working my- my ass off on this stupid, stupid training, and for what, Ramiel? To go back home as a… a.. what? A disgrace? A family disappointment? Give me a break.” Her voice broke repeatedly as it slurred on, each interruption seemingly draining her happiness more and more. The swear word slipped off her tongue like it was bitter to the taste, revealing how unusual it felt even now.

Stack the bricks.

“And you? You won. Yet here you are all- all weird and annoying, tormenting me when you could- when you should be dancing, drinking or just- just somehow celebrating- I don’t know.”

Fortify.

“I mean- you hate me anyway, no? Newsflash: you’re number one- number fucking one. You have your ticket to freedom, why aren’t you taking it?” Elyse looked away once again, now staring into the depth of her cup.

Finish up.

“Just- leave like you always wanted. Go live your life. I don't care anymore.” She’d add at last, only sadness clouding her tone.

Her rant was a rather sad one, the slur of alcohol and a touch of exhaustion blending to form what was at the least a difficult story to follow. In the end, all that was left were empty eyes, accompanying an empty voice, and - soon enough - an empty cup would join that list following one thorough swig of defeat.

Weakly planting her palms atop the sticky table, the noble slid her chair back as she shakily stood up and tried to get away from the table.

“Outside.. I’m going outside.”

Interactions: lion. (OPEN TO MORE INTERACTIONS)
Mentions: Castello (pay up boi)

 

[. D O V E]

Gwen Bulwark
​

She was a woman of surprise; he was her frequent victim. The universe had always been following that rule without fail. Be it through one of her fatal jumpscares (sometimes involving literal jumps) or her unfiltered humor (such as the one that ignited the stable scandal), she'd always catch Laurie off-guard. Tonight, however, things were different. For the first time since they met, it was Laurie who took her by surprise.

She listened to his words with mouth slightly agape, her emerald gaze was fixed on him yet it was as though she was worlds away. It was only after he was done did she pry her eyes off him and moved it to the sky. The stars were back. They weren't as bright as when she first saw them as a child, but they were back nonetheless. They've decided to shine on her for one more night. "Laurie," she muttered, displaying an uncharacteristic calmness, "to me... you're a star." She reached out for the sky and closed her hands, as though she was trying to grasp one of the twinkling beauties. "You're bright. You'll take the attention of anyone you meet. People will reach out and try to get a hold of you, but they will ultimately fail. Your destiny is not to be grasped, but to shine far above." She lowered her hands and slowly faced him, a serene smile painted on her lips.

"In simpler terms, I've been your most loyal admirer so you shouldn't friendzone me like that." As though she was back to her playful demeanor, the woman stuck her tongue out before opening a bottle of liquor. She then chugged its contents until only a small amount remained before tossing it to her companion. "You said I shouldn't drink two bottles by myself, right?" She winked.

Colorless Spectrum

 

[SpookyBones]

Interactions: ShadyLady​

After draining the last dregs from his cup, a comforting tranquil stream coursed within his veins, slithering from his laboured fingertips, gracefully leaving an all too familiar tug on his heart and landing with an unwelcome brush of fuchsia across his cheeks. Milo knew he would pay for his recklessness in the taunting storm that refuses to cease in his head, a heavy downpour on an already fragile, caving tin roof; but right now, feeling anything at all was better than the pit of darkness residing comfortably in his mind.

Milo grimaced as her golden honey-toned words escaped her lips. Sweetie. If more coherent thoughts would grace him, he’d have sensed the jarring undertones of this pet name but in this moment it stirred within him a sense of bliss. Milo was taken back to his childhood, before that day, when all he knew was insolent play-fighting and loving embraces; he craved the attention of his mother and brother more than anything. As a tot, Milo’s family never knew more than mere pennies to scrape them by, but he was content with each moulding splinter of wood that he called home with a gleeful grin. Memories came flooding back, too many to count. He’d tirelessly tried to keep the dam fortified, only letting sly droplets slip through the cracks, but they were all encapsulated in that subtly warm sweetie. It seemed tainted now and left a metallic tang encasing his throat like sickly chocolate coating toddlers' fingers in the humid Spring. Milo was sure Nina had called him this before but he’d been so immersed in his book that it had slid through his conscious thoughts. The word was inherently wrong coming off her blush lips, she was dissociated just enough that it allowed him to live in that moment of make-belief paradise, providing him with enough loving comfort and sufficient stoicism to hold back brewing tears.

Goosebumps explored every inch of his skin, stood sharp to attention as a flash of lightning hurtled down the ridges in his curled spine. He twisted his jaw in his palm to face her faint smile, strung to crease weak dimples into her skin, he offered her an earnest look that spoke more words than he cared to share with her. As she continued he took a match from its box and lit it without hesitation, letting her words penetrate his mind as the scarlet flames playfully threatened to lick at his fingertips. “You know I barely tolerate you, this is my own personal hell” he spat bitterly back at the girl; a frown formed on his lips in grating surreal realisation that really she was the only person he was even acquainted with, nevermind someone he could trust or rely on. He watched as Nina’s curl upon her lips dwindled to a cold, empty expression from his harsh tone, he knew she was used to his snarky remarks but so far as he could tell, she meant no real harm. Regret crawled up his throat, “Look, I didn’t mean to snap at you. Its just that crowds unnerve me.” He found himself opening up more than he’d have liked to, no thanks to the wine he’d had in replace of company that seemed to thaw his glacial disposition. He perched his glass upon the table and pushed his cinnamon locks back over his scalp. Milo spoke again with a somewhat slurred, irritated tone, “People are unpredictable shits, you and I are no mind-readers and anyone in this room could be thinking of you, I’m sure I saw a certain blonde lock eyes with you”, he said this with jovial mischief but the boy watched as his words seemed to seize her breathing and she visibly tensed in her seat, drawing her elbows inwards to her waist as though to hold herself. “So no, I don’t like crowds, but its not that I don’t like people; I believe that each individual’s tendencies and antics are fascinatingly unique, I just choose to only love the right ones.” It wasn’t a sanctimonious mindset that Milo had formed over the years, he didn’t choose his friends from those who were ‘worthy’ of him, more those that would cherish his friendship, be willing to act when in peril to save each other. Milo wondered whether it was out of the goodness within him or it truly was in fear of his friends leaving that he poured every morsel of love he had into them, almost undoubtedly the latter. This inner conflict between his rational distrust and the willingness for companionship left Milo’s mind strewn like a jigsaw of which all the pieces were incompatible.

As the moon’s ethereal glow cast upon the Hall began to lower, it was evident to the pair that the alcohol had leisurely made its way to Milo's brain, producing nothing short of rambling and disjointed thoughts. The expression that accompanied her azure eyes was brimming with pity. He’d seen that look before in far too many faces that lined the crooked alleyways of Utopia, this only surged frustration deeper into Milo, he didn’t want to be deemed as some charity case that people felt obliged to spend time with. He bit down for enamel to lock together. Despite his murky judgement, he knew this would be his main chance to wriggle into the bustling lives of anyone here. Milo gathered his pride where he had left it cocooned on that bench. He mustered some sprite into his tone, “My apologies for the dampener on your evening love, you don’t need to worry your pretty little head about me.” As he spoke he cut her a generous slice of cake that was sitting as an idle observer to their exchange, Milo joyfully giggled to himself, “Now eat up shortcake”, he lightly nudged the plate so it sat neatly between her quaint hands, “I’d love to see mmmore of you sometime”, he said with a final slur and bold wink. Without giving her the chance to reply he sprung up from the dismal corner and meandered through the tables that were now in disarray, a gleam coated his sapphire eyes as he inspected the Hall for a moderately clean spot and a new compatriot to acquaint.

 

[alexfangtalon]

INTERACTIONS: Elke Vinter ( M Moonlessite ), Bee Hatton ( Serei2477 ), Jewel Hatton ( Serei2477 ), Joanna Schreiber ( Arcanist ), Luka Soroka ( Raiden )​

Well, so far it seemed as if the switch would work. Elke had been distracted enough by what Jo had said but Anke was also soon distracted as she felt arms wrap around her. Fight or flight nearly kicked in until she felt whoever it was placing a peck on her cheek. The usually very serious girl instantly started reddening. 'What the heck just happened?', is what she thought. Her mind began racing until she got a look at the other set of twins and realized they were likely just about as drunk as everyone else here. She let out a sigh feeling very much out of place, "I'm not grumpy Elke, my stomach just isn't in the mood for food let alone drink right now." Turning to the older set of twins, "Feel free to join us. Drink up the alcohol before Elke knocks herself out."

Turning back to the table she watched as her sister reached for the cup of water. Instantly she realized that the plan was not good enough as she covered her face to avoid as much of the water as possible. That didn't work, "She also said to drink lots of wat- wait stop!" Quickly Anke reached forward to grab the random drink from Elke's hands but her sister had inhaled half of someone else's drink before she could even blink. This was starting to become an issue. Whose bright idea was it to give a bunch of small teenagers alcohol?

The sober twin brought her palm to her forehead and groaned. Maybe the higher-ups were doing this on purpose to make their first official day as soldiers that much harder. Those pricks were probably already planning all sorts of things to make their days as hard as possible. Hopefully, Elke's hangover wouldn't be too bad. The next one to show up behind them was Luka. Looking at him Anke couldn't tell who was worse off between him and Elke. They were both completely gone it seemed. What was up with this table and drawing the drunkards in. She looked to the other end of the table to see Ramiel having his own issues with Hilde-Brat. At least she wasn't the only one staying sober tonight. Then she heard an awful sound emanating from right beside her. Anke's head whipped around to look at her sister only to see that whatever she had been drinking was finally catching up to her in a bad way.

She grabbed ahold of Elke's shoulders to try and help her stay upright. As Elke turned a sickly green, panic flashed on Anke's face. She knew people could get sick from too much drinking but had Elke really had that much? What were they supposed to do? Anke put a hand to Elke's forehead unsure of what was wrong. Looking around she saw that everyone else was likely too drunk to really help so Anke slowly slid Elke's chair from the table. Grabbing her arms Anke turned and crouched trying to pull Elke onto her back, "Elke, can you wrap your arms around me?"

 

[KaramelKarma]

Jericho Mace

༒︎

Boisterous laughter reverberated off the warm, glowing walls of the dining hall, escaping out the open windows and into the summer nightly air. Bodies, loosened and freed by the lull of ale, moved to and fro, filling the hall to the brim. Light-hearted tunes floated merrily from the bards' corner, joined in by the cacophony of poured wine, glasses clinking in celebration and endless chatter and banter.
At the further end of the hall however, a tense silence reigned. Nearby recruits drew in and joined the circle, breaths held in anticipation. The last round had begun.

Sweat rolled down his temple. Dark eyes zeroed in on the vice-like grip he had on the younger boy's hand, his elbow rooted into the wooden table. The alcohol seemed to mix and blend the inked, tawny tones of his skin with Luka's pale, ivory one, but it was no matter. For what seemed like an eternity, brother faced against brother in a tense standstill, their arms locked in a rigid embrace.
Jericho glanced up, perceiving the low chant that began to wash over the small ring of spectators, cheering on the underdog. Luka then spoke, face flushed redder than summer cherries. His words stumbled over each other in the most entertaining way, already speaking of defeat. A good-natured grin graced the gangster's effort-ridden features, shaking his head in response.

On the surface, it seemed Luka was referring to his fabulous losing streak tonight --- what was it now? Nine, ten? But Jericho knew his victories were paved by more than just strength alone - alcohol, and the boy's fortunate and wholly entertaining inability to hold it, was the true champion here.
A small chuckle escaped as he shook his head. It was just his luck that Luka had managed to acquire so much strength in so few years. It was just his luck that a wide-eyed, defenseless boy had managed to step out from under his wing and turn into a fine young man, finer than Jericho ever was or could ever hope to have been at his age. Indeed, it was just his luck that this fine young man was also an utter lightweight, or else the gangster would have been withstanding wholly different odds.

The muscle in his arm quivered with exhaustive effort. Jericho attempted more force against Luka's tilted, but well defending arm, earning him yet another inch closer to victory. The chants grew louder as Jericho persisted this barrage of strength, his dark eyes looking for any sign of weakness in order to break through the leaning wall Luka had managed to build for himself. He glanced back up.
There it was; a few moments of distraction - that faraway, moony look in the younger boy's blue eyes was the key. One last shove, and the gap closed rapidly with a resounding boom.
Eleven.

Jericho leaned back, graciously accepting the celebratory cheers and pats on his back. More ale was poured into his cup. He lifted it to his lips to drink, dark eyes twinkling merrily as they faced off against Luka's blazing blue ones, darkened in drunken, boyish anger. The gangster raised his hands up in a show of innocence and mock surrender against the accusations of cheating and the deadly chicken legged weapon pointed his way. He watched Luka leave the table and him with all the grace of an elephant, a near incoherent threat tumbling from the boy's lips. The merriment slowly slipped away from his expression.

Eleventh.

A twinge of guilt. Krause's words echoed back from earlier, as she stood in front of him with an honorary medal to cement his place among the top ten as the seventh in line.
"Looks like the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

An off-hand comment. But Jericho knew better than to simply brush it off. Yet, before he could press any further, Krause had silenced him with a congratulatory hand on the shoulder. Then, she was gone, swiftly moving on to Vivian.
As much as he hated the thought, there was no denying the possibility. The possibility that he had truly cheated Luka, not of his own volition, but that of another, who sought to control and break him at any cost. The sneaking suspicion that his place in that line was not earned honorably; not by show of strength, skill and cunning, but by slight of hands, in a dark alleyway or isolated room.

Jericho's jaw clenched slightly, blinking away the bleariness of the alcohol. In an odd sense, he felt cheated too. Here was a chance to prove he was more than just his criminal record. To prove that he could make something out of himself without fucking it all up, or turning to disreputable means. These three years had shown him something, provoked a change in him. Or softened him up, his gangmates would sneer. Others could say some sense had finally been knocked into him, straightened him out. Indeed, one could call it maturity, the gradual acquirement of a different perspective, or a broader look on things. He felt it could have been all of those things and none of those things; he simply did not have the luxury of hindsight yet to tell. Nevertheless, if his suspicion proved itself to be true....

Jericho shook his head somewhat, refusing to finish the thought. No, no, he had no right. His dark eyes roamed the rest of the hall, drinking in every face that managed to mean so much to him throughout these three years, the causes of this so-called "softening". Something terribly close to regret began to simmer under his skin, cracking through the half-drunk, merry facade for just a moment.

He was going to miss this. Miss them, miss the very hall and table he sat in; the very same one where he and Leon first faced off and paid the price for, dragging everyone down with them. He knew he shouldn't. He knew that no matter how much this place and these people have made this feel like home away from home, he could never truly belong. His place was with his brothers on the streets of Trost - it always was, and it always will be. He had no right to feel regret, because he had made his choice. Freedom was what he craved; he had craved it since the day he came here. Luka's own brother would deliver that freedom to him this very night, fulfilling his end of the deal.

And nothing could stand in his way. Not the friendships, not the wrath of Krause, not the ghost of past passions or the rekindling of old flames. Jericho drank down the last of his ale with a flourish, slamming it back down on the table as he stood up. He swayed slightly, waiting for the vertigo to pass before looking up at the clock. An hour left to go before it was time.

Suddenly, the rapping of bone against wood drew the gangster's tipsy attention towards the livelier part of the hall, where his disgraced opponent regaled a table with his comedic charm. On the table sat Jo, whose sun-kissed tresses stood out like a flame in the dark. Opposite from her sat the Vinter twins, who were ambushed and locked tight in a drunken embrace by the Hatton twins. They were all drunker than Garrison officers on a good day, and the gangster couldn't help but grin at the spectacle. He approached the ruckus, making his entrance by swinging a brotherly, if not slightly intoxicated, arm over Luka's shoulders.

"Well, well, well, would you look at that," he started loudly, drawling out his words. He left Luka's side with a pat on his back, circling the rest, shaking his head in mock disapproval. He first came across an inebriated Jo, picking at her food. Jericho took the opportunity and swooped in, swiftly pilfering a piece of meat from her plate.
"The 104th Training Corps," he announced grandiosely, gesturing to his fellow comrades and their comically sorry states, grinning. "Our instructor's pride and joy, the Titans' future foes and the Walls' bravest heroes."
He then popped the chunk into his mouth, a devilish glint in the eye as he shook his head in faux disbelief and sorrow, finishing the food before he spoke. "Losing their first battle against Wall Sina's finest booze."

As if on cue, Elke began to keel over, the telltale signs of nausea bubbling to the surface of her expression. Her sister, ever the dutiful and stone sober nanny, was the first to jump to action.
"Bad idea, Anklebiter," Jericho called out to the stubborn broad as he munched away on some more grub and refilled on his last cup of ale, making no move to help. "She'll be puking down your backside like that before long. Just swing her arm over your shoulders and get the poor girl to her bed."

Just then, the skidding of a nearby chair caught the gangster's attention. The source was attempting to leave, if somewhat unsteadily, surrounded by an entourage of empty cups. Even with her back facing him, Jericho could tell something was off about Hildebrand. But for the moment, that wasn't his biggest concern; the spot she had so graciously freed meant that he could sit in good company with her bodyguard, Ramiel Diakos. Cup in hand, Jericho began to make his way towards them just as Elyse herself turned round to make her swift exit. As usual, there was little acknowledgement from both parties. Though any temptation to let slip a few slights held their ground on the gangster's tongue as he caught a glimpse of the highborn's strangely desolate expression. He stood aside as she brushed past, mercifully keeping his silence. A lingering, misgiving eye followed her retreating figure for a few moments before turning to the real prize.

"Ramiel," Jericho greeted the honorary knight with a firm hand on his shoulder. The gangster proceeded to take the seat, staggering slightly thanks to his own tipsiness. He set his cup down and acquired another, followed by the nearest pitcher of ale. To his chagrin, he found the vessel almost entirely empty. "Who knew she had it in her?" he murmured, meeting Ramiel's eye for a moment, a ghost of a derisive smirk tugging at his lips. He set the jug back down.
"A toast anyway," he proposed, raising his cup, cheeks faintly flushed. "To you and your marvelous achievement of first place, and..." He trailed off for a moment, his eye catching the clock on the wall. Half an hour left. His eye refocused back to Ramiel. "To new beginnings."

༒︎

INTERACTIONS | Luka Soroka ( Raiden ) ; Jo Schreiber ( Arcanist ) ; Bee & Jewel Hatton ( Serei2477 ) ; Elke Vinter ( M Moonlessite ) ; Anke Vinter ( alexfangtalon ) ; Elyse Hildebrand ( Danidify ) ; Ramiel Diakos ( lion. )

MENTIONS | Leon Monar ( Castello )

D E A D C R U S H

[/bord

credit | leviathan​

 

[Arcanist]

Jo Schreiber
Mentions: Bee & Jewel ( Serei2477 ), Anke ( alexfangtalon ) | Interactions: Elke ( M Moonlessite ), Laurie ( Colorless Spectrum ), Jericho ( KaramelKarma ), Luka ( Raiden ), Elyse ( Danidify )

​

“Aa-aah, tipsy,” Jo wagged her finger as she corrected her good friend. Though, judging by the shade of a smirk hadn’t really believed her own words. She was glad to see him laughing and loosening up a little, what with that forlorn look that had dulled his baby blues recently. She hoped they still had the time to write to each other, even if their paths were diverging again.

She never liked to think of any more years they could have lost not seeing each other.

Jo scoffed at Laurie’s warning, sucking some gravy off her thumb before wiggling her fingers at him in farewell. She would have eaten more, though, his suggestion had suddenly left her stomach feeling fit to burst. She listened to Elke scold her sister for smuggling her water. “Well, yes, but also--” Jo was about to provide Elke with another suggestion, only to be struck dumbfounded by her downing another tankard. When the tankard lowered though, Jo gave a low chuckle at the realisation that set in her eyes, how the colour practically drained from her face when she noticed what she had drunk.

Judging by the sour look on her face, it had hit her with the force of a tornado.

Jo’s eyes moved to the waving of a bone. She hid a smirk at the drunken antics of Luka, the alcohol so generously gifted by their superiors in celebration. Even though the boy had changed into a strong and determined young man, she could still see a semblance of the Luka that had first joined the military. He was one of a few who deserved to be in her place with the effort he put in and the change he had undergone. An acrid taste lined her mouth then. Logically, it would have had to be the alcohol and the food, but…

Her head whirled to the bone drumming on the table and Luka’s yelling for everyone’s undivided attention. Jo felt a groan rise in her throat as he began his joke, waiting for the awful punchline. She felt it was going to be especially awful with the way Luka convulsed with intoxicated laughter and the percussion on the table, and she was right. Jo slid her fingers under her glasses to her eyes, releasing the groan. “Wow, Luka. Truly, the pivotal of all jokes,” though, all the while, she gave a chuckle at it. “I could never compare to such brilliance!” She jested, bringing her hands down from her face as she watched a wheezing Elke.

Jo enjoyed the delivery much more than the content, she would admit.

The girl saw the grubby fingers of one Jericho Mace pinch a piece of her meat, and though she had since paused her eating, she almost leapt for it like a ravenous hound with an “Oi!” Her swinging arms couldn’t reach the man quick enough, and she despaired at the food disappearing behind the wall of the former gangster’s teeth. She lowered back onto the bench in defeat as he mockingly despaired over their comrades inebriated states. Though, she did jump in with an “Ey, ey, it’s not over until one of us drops.”

Spoken too confidently, too soon, as Elke’s colour shifted. “Ah, fuck, Elke—” Though, as soon as she opened her mouth, a violent belch ripped free. Her cheeks were a flaming fury and her giggles were muffled behind her hand. “Ahh, how rude…I’m so sorry…” She laughed and stroked her stomach. She did feel much better for it at least. Though, she took that as a sign to go and get some air, recover from such a terrible social ordeal. She rose from the bench with a groan, announcing, “Jerry’s right…go sleep with a bucket beside the bed. I’m just gonna…uh…take a quick walk.” Throwing her legs over, around, and away from the table, she rose precariously from the bench. Anke had it handled anyway, right? “I’ll be back!” She reassured them with a wave, surprisingly managing to walk in a straight line towards the door leading out of the hall.

Once the cool air of the night hit her, she stumbled slightly. She remembered hearing how stepping outside into the open air always had a disorientating effect on the inebriated. She deducted in her own drunken mind that it had to be true. She stood for a moment, regaining her balance, letting the breeze graze her neck and lift strands of her hair. Jo advanced forward, ready to face the cool air of the night. Admittedly though, she halted after a few steps upon the sight of another newly graduated recruit. She bounded over to Elyse in a drunken stupor, all jovial and care-free and unhinged, like the regular Jo would rarely allow.

She sobered. Something had happened, clearly, but uncertainty gripped at her. She wasn’t so sure how to comfort others, not as easily as what Elke had some years previously. Perhaps comfort wasn’t needed, just a distraction.

Jo wandered over. “Eli,” she called, trying to put up the guise of a mostly sober individual who was just enjoying themself at a reasonable level. “Hey. Bit chilly out tonight, right? I mean, I needed air, so I guess it’s nice. I ate too much. And drunk too much. Not that much. Well, a little,” she rambled, her mind unable to pull back the reins on the words running off her tongue. Great start. She sighed, rubbing at her eyes as she attempted to start over. “I’m going on a bit of a walk. The company would be nice, if you want to come with.”

 

[Serei2477]

Interacting: Elke, Anke, Luka, Jericho (indirectly), Joey (indirectly), Milo, Krause

Mentions:

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Both their kisses has been relatively well received (even from the stoic and serious babysitter). Jewel and Bee were both too drunk to have minded even if Anke and Elke had threatened to start a fight about it. More people arrived to talk to the girl twins or share in the festivities, with Luka in particular coming up and sharing what was probably the best worst joke. However, given how drunk the twins were right now, it was probably the funniest thing they'd heard in a while. Enough to get their attention off of Elke and Anke for a bit.

They both laughed with Luka, moving from their spots to be by the blonde boy's sides. Jewel wrapped an arm around Luka's shoulders, Bee would wrap her arm around Luka's waist.

"Hah! That's a good one Luka!"

"Where did you get so funny?"

Jewel pulled the shorter boy in and kissed him square on the mouth, the kiss lingering for a few seconds before he let him go, only to be passed to Bee who gave him a kiss on the mouth as well.

"Kisses for the funny boy~"

They retreated back to the table with Anke and Elke, hearing Jericho's words earned him a "Oi, oi. You're right but fuck you." from Bee. Though they were having fun, it was briefly paused due to a certain drunk blonde girl. Jewel caught sight of Elke about to vomit, and moved to grab her hair, turning the direction of potential vomiting towards the floor as he held her hair back, waiting to see if it happened. Did it protect their legs from the bounce back? Probably not, but at least no one's lap was going to get an unexpected surprise.

Bee gave a 'pffft' sound seeing Elke. "Awww, baby's gonna throw up! It's 'kay small baby! Let it out!"

Bee stroked Elke's back and even patted her head a few times while Anke was quick to jump in and try to help her sister. She looked over to the other girl and the others explaining that she should carry Elke to bed.

"Oi, oi, oioioioioioioioioi..." She spoke up, "Ya can't jus' pick up a drunk if they're gonna vom'! Y-Ya gotta wait fer it... Or... ya gotta shove yer fingers and force iht up. Feel betturr right after."

Without even saying goodbye or mentioning that they were going to leave, Jewel and Bee had already started walking away from the table, with Bee finishing her sentence as they made distance.

The two would head off, not noticing that they'd gone in different directions. One headed for a total stranger looking to be by himself, while the other bumped into an all too familiar face.

-----

Jewel had a surprised look, accented with the reddened cheeks of a drunk. Then a big smile followed suit. "Kraaaauuuse~ What'cha doin' alone in the corner?"

Without waiting for her to answer, he pulled her closer and planted a kiss fully on the lips. The kiss was only for a few seconds before he released her. "Live a little, wont'cha? We're all gunna die someday. Migh' as well have a bit of fun, hm?"

It hadn't registered what he'd done yet, and it most likely wouldn't happen until tomorrow morning (assuming he remembered).

-----

Bee herself had bumped into a dark haired boy she didn't remember seeing around the training grounds. Well, she most likely did, she just couldn't remember what his name was for the life of her at the moment. She looked up at him with a big grin.

"You're the broody baby around camp aren't chya? Well, one of 'em!"

She reached behind his head and grabbed his hair, pulling him down and kissing him on the mouth. Bee would let him go after a few seconds, still having that big smile on her face. "Smile more, dammit! We get 'nough gloom and doom already! 'ave a drink!"


​

 

[Raiden]

Interactions: M Moonlessite (Vivian), SpookyBones (Milo), Serei2477 (Bee)
Mentions: lion. (Ramiel), Castello (Leon), Serei2477 (Jewel), ShadyLady (Nina), Danidify (Elyse), Arcanist (Jo), M Moonlessite (Elke), KaramelKarma (Jericho), alexfangtalon (Anke)
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Unlike a majority of his raucous comrades, Hal didn't intend on having a hangover in the morning when the 104th Training Corps still had one final routine inspection of the cannons that lined the crest of Wall Rose before the true graduation ceremony. Lukewarm mead settled uncomfortably in his half-filled flagon; the dark-haired boy found his first sting of alcohol rather disgusting, but decided to partake in the festivities out of insistence from his peers in moderation. A small grin wore on his face while he watched the numerous drunken antics of his numerous friends, leaning back onto his seat with both boots kicked up on the tabletop as the gaiety of laughter drowned out any reserved complacency from coming in second place to one Ramiel Diakos. The Halvor from three years ago would've chatted up a storm over the result, but the military had taken that sort of pettiness out of him; it was nothing more than just a number in the maw of a Titan.

Which begged the question, just how many of them would take advantage of the opportunity to join the Military Police Brigade? His sentiments were unsure on the likes of Leon, Bee, and Nina; his pseudo-rival still seemed indecisive on the matter, and he was certain that Bee wouldn't want to separate herself from Jewel. He remembered pitching an attempt in convincing Nina to devote her intelligence to the Survey Corps' cause, but he didn't want to pressure the redhead as his younger self would've likely done. Ramiel seemed likely to stick to Elyse's leash from outside of the Top Ten, even if it meant losing the unit's most talented specimen for someone who still needed a hand to hold. Disappointing, really. To his knowledge, Jo and Vivian were hell bent on escaping into the Inner Walls for a cozy life, the latter individual coming off as a surprise; he didn't take Vivian for one of those people, and to be perfectly honest, he'd expected more from the silver-haired girl. Jericho was yet another hard read beyond his cutthroat tendencies, quite unsure if there really was anything going on inside that boy's head that wasn't some nefarious scheme.

For all intents and purposes, the remainder of the Top Ten including himself seemed to set their sights on the Survey Corps, which wasn't entirely awful. "With or without them," Hal took a healthy swig from his flagon of drink, only feeling a slight flush on his cheeks as his conscience remained coherent. His feet kicked off from the table, scoffing towards Luka's embarrassing display of brandishing a makeshift weapon from a rib bone. Elke was the other side of the same coin, equally as half-witted as the latter was; though it was entertaining, her condition piqued his concern when she keeled over in the aftermath of the dining hall's roaring laughter from Luka's awful joke. Rising from his chair, he moved on from the table with the intent of checking up on Elke alongside her other twin, spotting Vivian enter the room of festivity from the corner of his eye.

"Well, isn't it number two," Vivian replied in an almost uninterested fashion, a somewhat excited spark in her eye proved that she felt differently. She gave him a curious glance up and down his body, her gaze only stopping for a brief moment at the flagon in his hands. "You must be enjoying yourself, celebrating after all of the hard work you put into training."

"Wouldn't you like to know?" his eyes rolled upon the silver-haired vixen's approach, instinctively holding out his drink in offering as it seemed like she intended to start a conversation in the middle of the ruckus. "Don't get the wrong idea, I'm not getting shit-faced like these other idiots. You'd be wise to be the same, we've got cannon cleaning on the wall in the mornin'."

Vivian glanced down at the mug as if she mulled over his words. She waved away his offer. "No, I'm good. Like you said, tomorrow's a busy day. Don't want to be nursing a headache on my first day." She gave him a chuckle. "You're joining the MPs, right?"

Hal drew a heavy sigh, stepping forward to virtually push the flagon into her hand. "Don't be so stuck-up. Have a sip, at least. Even I did," he insisted, her mention of the Military Police Brigade bringing about a look of disgust in his eyes. "And no, I'd rather become a Titan's lunch than join the 'MPs'. Still surprised you're that much of a coward."

She felt him push the flagon into her hands. Vivian's brow twitched slightly at his first insult, but said nothing as her fingers curled around the container's handle. Fine. One sip couldn't hurt. Her eyes didn't leave his face as she tipped the flagon against her lips. The liquor was sweet; in fact, it was one of the sweetest things she had in a long while.

"A Titan's lunch is what you're gonna be if you join the Survey Corps. Come and join the Military Police," she said, seriously this time. "You might be seen as a coward, but at least you'll be a safe coward. We'd make a good team, you and I. Who knows, maybe I could be commander one day, and you could be my right hand man."

Admittedly, the boy felt like throwing up like Elke upon hearing Vivian's pitch for him to join the Military Police Brigade. "Oi, at least make me the commander in your little fantasy, girl," Hal kept his hand out, expecting the return of his flagon but deciding to retract it. "I made up my mind from the day I stepped into the military. Think I'd rather make something of my life than to fuck around with some rich girl in the capital."

Vivian couldn't help but scoff. "Stubborn as ever, aren't you?" she asked him as she rubbed the drowsiness from the corner of her eye. "Telling you, it's safe inside Wall Sina. You can make something of yourself without having a death wish. Instead of throwing away all of your potential, you can become a Military Policeman and actually work to make the regiment better. That's what I'll be doing, anyways."

"Appreciate it, but spare me the concern, Vivi," Hal leaned on one foot as his tongue clicked, shaking his head. "I'd rather change the world than change some crooked division that does nothing but deal with the Underground for their own personal gain," he trotted past Vivian, his shoulder bumping against the girl lightly. "Keep the drink, and go find a husband while you're there."

Walking away from the silver-haired girl, Hal's eye caught a glimpse of an unfamiliar boy suffering from one of a very intoxicated Bee's direct methods of approach and introduction. Seeing that Elke was already being looked after, he approached the other pair from the side, placing one hand on Bee's shoulder and the other one on the boy's. "Oi, oi, are you trying to kiss everyone tonight, Bee?" he jokingly implored Bee as he shook the blonde's shoulder. "You'll scare the new guy more if you keep it up."

 

[Colorless Spectrum]

Laurence Arnault

"... You're a star."

The winds seemed to blow softer when Gwen had said those words to him. He wondered if she was joking around again, but it seemed genuine this time, at least from his point of view. He watched as Gwen reached out to the sky before bringing it back down and facing him. He never noticed how brightly green her eyes were until now. Shining like a gemstone under the moonlight.

As per usual, Laurie had trouble understanding her words. To compare him to a star that shines so bright even when it was so far away, he never saw himself that way. And in his mind lingered the fragment "but to shine far above." What did she mean by that? Perhaps it was the alcohol talking. Yes, it might just possibly be.

He shook his head with an amused smile on his lips, "Please, I'm used to your jokes by now." Again with her teasing, he wasn't as gullible as before. He wasn't gonna fall for it after the many times she got him... Right?

"How kind of you to save some for me." He said as he reached for the bottle in front of him. He wasn't planning on drinking but a few sips wouldn't be so bad.

"Ah," Laurie sighed after taking in a swig of the alcohol, finishing the bottle. His blue eyes staring at the stained bottle, wondering how long Gwen had been out here by herself. "You know, we are here to celebrate and it's not as fun if we're just by ourselves and everybody is inside." There was a sly smirk painted on his face as he said those words. He got up and dusted himself off with his free hand, "C'mon, let's celebrate with everyone else." He said, pulling her up and dragging her inside the mess hall where everyone was drinking, eating, being edgy, laughing, and talking.

"It'll be great... Hopefully!" He chirped with a dumb grin on his face, keeping his hand wrapped around Gwen as he urged her to the building, opening the door with an enthusiastic push.

mention: || interaction: . D O V E

 

[Moonlessite]

MENTIONS: alexfangtalon [Anke], Serei2477 [Jewel & Bee], Arcanist [Jo], Raiden [Luka], KaramelKarma [Jericho]​

​

Ugh, was it really coming? She felt something bubble up at the back of her throat, though the sensation was soothed by a comforting hand that stroked her back. There was a myriad of voices around her, telling Anke to do this and that, but at this point Elke wasn't able to pinpoint one singular source. It was just a storm of words, a storm that befuddled her further and made the bile rise higher and higher. That was, until a certain someone had come along. Through the haze of sick and drink, she felt her heart skip a beat, or maybe two. Jericho had approached with his smooth, deep voice and that handsome sparkle in his eye. Elke gazed up at him with wonder, her mouth half-open at the sight of his smile. Her already racing heart only raced more and more as she attempted to put her arm around her sister.

Whether it was Jerry's sudden arrival, or the sudden movement of her attempt to lean on her sister, the vomit that boiled high in her stomach pushed forward and past her lips. All of the contents of her stomach splattered to the floor and formed an acidic puddle at her feet. "Aeughhhhhh," the girl moaned. She looked down at the puddle, sobered and yet disgusted by the sight of it. The smell only drew forth more vomit, and more vomit after that. Elke was sure that, within those few moments, she had lost everything she ate and drank within the past few hours.

Thank God Jericho wasn't around anymore. But Elke could feel certain eyes stick on her, the heat of their gazes like daggers at her back. She buried her face into her sister's shoulder as she threw her arm around her back, embarrassed. "Be..." she hiccuped, the acrid taste still on her tongue. "Bed..."

MENTIONS: Raiden [Halvor], Serei2477 [Jewel], Castello [Leon]

​

Vivian didn't expect Halvor's response-- not even in the slightest. It was easy for him to frustrate her, as he did so often during the three years that they spent in training together. Despite it all, she still very much liked him; his attitude and demeanor was something to look up to and be proud of. She watched him leave her side, bitterness still heavy on her tongue. A long sigh left her lips as she looked down at her reflection that wavered in her gifted flagon. Vivian supposed she did look a bit too tired, a tad too serious. Maybe she could grab something to eat; even if she wasn't that hungry, it wouldn't be wise to get up for work on a completely empty stomach. Begrudgingly, she lurked towards one of the less-crowded tables and picked up a plate. Her eyes drifted up to the crowd that swayed in front of her. She saw Joanna wandering off after Elyse, who looked upset; Elke, who clung onto her other half as she puked out onto the stone floors; Nina, harassing a new face; Jericho, who went to torment some poor Ramiel... Her eyes remained on the tall, dark-haired male, the sour taste becoming even more poignant as she put slab after slab of meat upon her dish.

"Oi oi oi, the hell you doing, you damned rat?!"

She turned to look in the direction of their instructor's screech, only to see the blonde-haired woman practically fuming down at a drink-befuddled Jewel. Krause's features had gone red as a pepper as she roared down at the recruit, and at first, Vivian felt bad for the boy.

"I should have you tied up and paraded around Trost in nothing but your underwear! You'd probably like that, wouldn't you?!"

Even though Krause screamed with all of her might down at the other half of the Hatton twins, Vivian could tell she didn't mean it. She had become able to tell the differences between their teacher's idle threats and menacing words. She'd let Jewel off the hook, probably. And even if she didn't, how would she be able to punish someone over something they didn't remember? She shook her head, deciding that the mess hall's atmosphere was a bit too lively for her taste. Maybe she could accompany someone for dinner, in the fresh air of the night... and she knew exactly who she was going to eat with. Knowing him, he probably didn't even eat anything yet. That's just like him, she thought as she tacked on another pile of meat to her plate. Idiot.

She left the mess hall and headed towards the stables. Vivian's eyes readjusted to the dim light, and she saw Leon casually relaxing alongside a cat and a horse. She couldn't help but roll her eyes for a moment. Leon could be so weird at times, but she knew he had a good heart under his timid demeanor. Quietly, she wandered over to his side and sat down on the ground next to him. She leaned back on her hand as she took a sip from the flagon. Whatever Hal was drinking, it was pretty good.

"Hey, you." Though Vivian's words were as sweet as honey as she spoke to Leon, the look in her eye proved otherwise. There was an almost scolding kind of glint in her eye, and her brow creased down at him slightly. "See you've decided that a horse and a cat make better company than actual human beings again. Have you even eaten or drank anything since the start of the feast?"

 

[lion.]

I am nothing
but a sacrifice
but will you give
me up so easily?

RAMIEL DIAKOS

“Go then,” Ramiel bit out after working his jaw in the dim silence, sagely staring ahead with eyes brown of soil shoveled, but obliviously not turned over, “Do whatever you like, Ms.Hildebrand.”

A draw of his pocket watch - a skein of light reflecting off of it’s silver-spooned lid, and it became the centerpiece in it’s master’s hands. When the chain hung out and through the loops of Ramiel’s fingers, he snapped the groove of the top open, and watched the needles crank. His fingers sired over the glass cover.

Tick.

Tock.

There he was, holding onto a farewell in the wait for the excruciating moment for the last single minute to end. The clock head ticked faithfully as the grace of god, yet also irreligiously as the temptations of a malefactor. The smaller cogs burled like windmills of Zeno’s paradoxes, getting closer and closer to the moment. It grasped him in a clutch, the way the ticking springs hitched and inched on. Forwards it went, until the time began to stampede towards him at a high pace. It was going to trample them over. He braced for the moment to hit them.

But, it never came.

Why did it feel as time slowed even when it fleed before the retinas of their eyes? The silence beated as loud as the world’s applause. His one-man’s surface show closed, and the stage lights shut down. Every brawn in his body tightened. His opaline veins were black ice, and his heart was a fire attempting to thaw it down. But, there was little fire for those already cursed cold; a hypothermic flurry of words and he was hazardously slipping. Falling into an abyss of the obscure emptiness of her eyes, there was an epiphany. He was trapped.

By her lying mouth and sad eyes.

Finally, the minute closed into the hour.

Boarding a long look at her, he finally turned towards her and forced Paradis' most impressive smile. It was invaluable, trademark whites scintillating with corruption rusting on the shallow edges, “What do you know, Elyse? The time is now nine o’ clock. Work hours for tonight are over, aren’t they?”

Inspecting his thoughts confidently, he welled his feelings with, “Did you really forget that even after all this time, you are still just my employer and I, your worker?”

Calmly, with as thinly suffocating a morning could ever be in a graveyard, he said, “Just like how you don’t care what I do, I don’t care what you do.”

For her torture’s end, while she was departing, he sleekly lent, “ I do hate you, by the way.”

“Because you are weak and insecure,” he paused, “So quick on calling yourself a family disappointment.”

“It repulses me,” He quit tensely, but his eyes unusually brightened.

Jericho Mace was the scourge of the flawed. By flawed, Ramiel Diakos meant that he was unfinished like the discarded handkerchief on his table: miscellaneously made fabric so unimportant that it was put to no use other than to roll up with liquor. He had steered towards him, drunken with delinquency, that it made lesser difficulty for Ramiel Diakos to play detective. His sleeves had been furled up and it didn’t take a stab to know that he had been pinning arms with strength.

Dark-haired, chock-full of power with the finest money-bagging criminality towards his name, Mace was a con artist who had been taken to portrait. It was no dumb-luck that he was notoriously popular with the ladies; his untamed hair edged out to his hard jaw, and isolated out his listlessly shameless mouth.

It all befitted him.

And, his underhanded secrets.

Jericho Mace was some infamous tale that even with tricky determination left everyone in a maze of imagination. It was an invention of a long played character that even in these three years, Ramiel Diakos could not tell what wrong dark cobblestones he walked on or which parts of him, like darts thrown on targets, each separate avenue killed.

Entertained by his introduction, Ramiel Diakos raised his eyebrows in a laconic manner, “Mace, you seem surprised that a nuisance wants to play daredevil to her parents.”

A glass guzzling of alcohol extended towards him. There it was again.

First place.

His fingers faltered as he reached for the cup Elyse had filled. Antecendently, he took it within his fingers with a wiresome pressure, and carried it diametrically to echo against the other.

“New beginnings,” he repeated, before crassly plunging to an off the beam smile, “Do you actually believe in it?

In the background, the sound of people stepping over planks of wood tumbled to his ears; vulnerized wilderment wrested the room. Preliminarily, he had believed in it, but it was now evaporative as air.

“Just between you and me,” he gambled, thrumming with truth, and abtrusely leaning closer, “How much do you think your life is going to transform?”

They were two sides of the same coin. Had he not been the farthest away from home, he would be the same jailbird as the prisoned boy beside him.

He set his drink, tilting the cup, so it slanted liquor like an hourglass down into the other boy’s cup. This time it wasn't sand, but rather cognac fine-hued liquid slowly pouring down by the orchestration of gravity.

Time.

“And if it’s really upon us,” his eyes crossed over to his empty cup, “Then, what do you suppose we do tonight?”

Danidify KaramelKarma

code by ditto (head empty go bonk)