Fandom Attack on Titan: Birds of Paradise

[Moonlessite]

MENTIONS: Arcanist [Jo], Raiden [Hal], SpookyBones [Milo]

​

This was all going south very fast. Vivian's eyes remained on the Garrison members, practically on edge as she awaited their next move. There were some younger members there that trembled like terrified mice, as if Hal was going to throw himself at them and devour them all. Even the older men and women looked absolutely horrified. Did she blame them? They were dealing with an unknown entity here, one that could kill all of them if he really wanted to. She tossed Milo a somewhat exasperated look at his question. She might not know exactly what happened, but she could only guess. Rumors flitted around the recruits like wildfire. A recruit from the Southern training regiment had emerged from a Titan's corpse. That he had taken down the Armored Titan all by himself. Was that true? Even if it isn't all true... she glanced back down at Hal, giving him a rough smack to the back of his head in an attempt to wake him up. There's too much that just doesn't add up!

Then, it happened. Hal roused from his sleep, claiming he'd kill them all. No one was happy about that. Not her, not the Garrison, and definitely not that one random red-haired man that started screeching about how they had to kill it right now. Behind her matted fringe of hair, Vivian tossed a slightly panicked glance above them. The two Garrison members at the top of the wall were very much ready to shoot their canon. She bit the inside of her mouth, her mind racing as she attempted to figure out what to do. Had they really come here to get themselves killed? All it took was one command and they'd all get blown to bits. She remained quiet even at Hal's question, not sure how to answer her friend. What was she even supposed to say? Wow, Viv. You're really a useless idiot. She had to say something, do something... but why was she so hesitant in carrying it out?

Words couldn't even come to her lips before Hal spoke and gave his answer. A plan. He... actually had a plan to seal the wall? She blinked, stunned. How was he going to do that? Was it even possible?

Jo had felt herself cringe, freezing with horror, at the growing aggression of the Garrison. She couldn’t blame them. They were like barking dogs backed into a corner in the face of Hal. It almost seemed hopeless, not until Hal stepped forward and began to plead his case as a saviour of humanity. She could feel sweat bead at the side of her eyes, watching as one soldier’s finger got too comfortable around a trigger. Then came Hal’s declaration. She tried not to let her eyes widen. It would be their one saving grace. So, Jo echoed that same sentiment.

“That’s right! We can’t seal up that hole on our own, not without Hal’s strength. This is practically a lifeline for us!”


Milo’s chest rose and fell heavily as the adrenaline from his outburst was steadily wearing off, the emotional exhaustion enveloping him entirely. The boy’s heart still beat rapidly in its cage as he took in the numerous expressions splayed upon the faces of the Garrison who hadn’t wavered in the vice grip they held on their weaponry. Milo whipped his head down at the sound of Hal’s familiar voice, surprised to see he’d snapped from his frazzled state but also fuelled his words with confidence and vigour. Jo followed suit and soon they were looking like a united front.

Milo stepped forward in a meek attempt at display of confidence, “You’d be fools to pass up an opportunity as rare as this! Set aside your fear and have faith, please.”

Dammit! Vivian ground her teeth, raising herself from the ground. Her head still hurt like a bitch and she felt faint, but she wasn't about to take this laying down. "These three've probably said more than enough, so you know by now that killing Hal off is just going to get rid of any chance of--"

"NO!"

The balding man's shout rang out across the plaza. His previously calmer demeanor had withered away to mirror several of his men's, bristling from his spot behind the line of soldiers. Their expressions, wrinkled into desperate frowns and grimaces, only upset her further. There was no way that they still thought about shooting Hal, right? Or were they all too thick-skulled to understand the consequences of their would-be actions? She clenched her fists, wanting to charge ahead and just grab the captain by the collar to throttle him.

"I have no intention in trusting anything you lot say. Not after that monster said he wanted to murder every one in the vicinity!!" The captain howled as he raised his hand. "Purging it will increase our chances of survival! There's no other way!"

It was astounding to see how fear could transform a reasonable person into a stupid, bumbling idiot. Vivian watched as the other soldiers adjusted their rifles' so they were now completely in their sights. So, this was how it ended, huh? Death by firing squad. All of those years in training, wasted. Her eyes focused on the captain's upraised hand, tensing up as it began to fall. Once the order went through, they were dead. Her mind continued to race. What if she tried to knock Hal away? It wouldn't be the perfect outcome, but she could buy him some time. What if she could come up with something clever to say, something a person like Jo or Luka or Nina would say? Would it even stop the captain from his command? No, no, it was too late, they were all going to die. Unless--

"That's enough, Captain Ross."

The new voice, deep, rough, and demanding attention, jolted Vivian out of her train of thought. Three other members of the Garrison had approached the captain, though these were not like the others. Two normal Garrison soldiers flanked another man as he stepped closer to the crazed captain. The man in question bore a head of graying black hair and a bothered expression, though the air he gave off was not as full as fear or panic compared to the rest of the Garrison members'. His features were filled with sternness and a silent demand for respect, his mere presence stopping the captain from giving out the order to shoot in mere instants.

The captain took a step back in response to the man's approach. After a brief moment of apparent shock, his faltering figure straightened in a salute. "C-commander Haas, I--"

"What is going on here? You plan to slaughter not only these children, but the one hope we have in getting out of this hellhole?" Commander Haas asked in an icy snarl. He took a brief moment to turn his head to the confused riflemen, his voice raising several octaves as he ushered one last holy command. "Lower those rifles, men. If that boy posed any serious threat to us, we'd all be long gone by now."

-- unless a miracle happened.

When their would be executors finally lowered their rifles, Vivian exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding. She was half-tempted to slump to the floor in both physical and mental exhaustion, though she held steadfast as she briefly watched the interaction between the captain and the commander. Captain Ross practically stammered in front of the commander as he said something to him in a low tone of voice, but from here she could not tell what they were discussing. After a few moments at trying (and failing) to read their lips, she finally allowed herself to fully relax. What were the odds of the Garrison commander making it to the plaza in time? Either fate had truly smiled upon them, or there was a greater force watching from above after all. Vivian was too tired to pursue that line of thought. She turned to Hal, her mouth open to say something, anything to him. She had to know if he was alright. He must be terrified of what was happening if she was.

However, she was quickly interrupted by Commander Haas' approach. The man seemed much older up close, and in this lighting she could see the several gray hairs that crested his sideburns and the top of his head. His gray eyes were dull and tired and his features were everything but friendly and approachable. Haas' gaze swept over them before he spoke. "So, you say you have an idea on how to seal the breach?" he asked them in a dry tone of voice before his eyes settled on Jo and Hal. "Might as well get to planning, then."

---

The Commander did not waste any time in sending Vivian and Milo away. He had brought not only Hal and Jo to the top of the nearby wall, but Luka as well. Vivian didn't understand why she wasn't taken with them... she didn't complain. She wasn't the type of person to actively plan out things; following orders was more her thing. She let out a heavy sigh as she walked down the same cobblestone path that the other recruits had chosen to settle on, keeping her pace with Milo as she wrapped a heavy piece of gauze around her head. The wound had clotted by the time she had gotten it checked out, so it hurt more when she actually decided to get it cleaned. She brought her hand through her hair in an attempt to keep her silvery strands from getting caught in the bandages.

This turned out to be a crazier day that she had thought. To think that she'd be on her way to Sina the next day. How unlucky would it have been if she died mere hours from getting into the Military Police? Vivian dropped her sore arms to her side, saying nothing to Milo for a long moment and keeping her eyes to the floor. There wasn't a reason to look around-- she knew what awaited her if she actually looked around. The dead-eyed stares. The tear-drenched faces. The blood-stained uniforms. The very thought of being in their presence made her shudder.

"It's hard to believe we actually survived all of this." Vivian mused aloud, a solemn shadow crossing her face. "If Hal didn't... do what he did, I'm sure the Titans would have killed everyone."

---

Meanwhile, on the wall...
​

The wind was harsher up here than down there. Its invisible tendrils brushed through their hair and pushed roughly against their bodies at times, almost as if warning them that it had the potential to knock them over if they weren't paying attention. Above their heads stretched a pale blue sky marked with thick, gray wisps of clouds, and the sun hung high above the aimless dark streaks like a gorged glutton. At their feet lay the city of Trost, more than half-broken and empty of much sentient life. When one walked upon the walls, they might be reminded of how tiny one really was. They were practically specks of life within the city, and even less so to Titans. No, to Titans they were nothing more than food-- and they would have all been wiped out if it wasn't for their one saving grace: the boy that they knew almost nothing about.

Gael Haas had brought the boy in question up here along with the spectactled red-haired girl and another young blond lad. The other two claimed that this boy who went by the name of Luka was more than able to give helpful advice during their planning stage. He didn't complain, hell, he didn't even ask if they were sure about their decision. There wasn't time to ask questions or succumb to doubt. The Garrison Commander led the three recruits along the wall as two other members of the Garrison flanked their party. Those two, a man with a bearded face and a young, brown haired woman, were deathly silent as they followed. It was obvious they were only there to observe and, in a worst case scenario, backup.

After a few minutes of walking, Commander Haas stopped at a certain point along the wall. He brought up his hand and pointed towards Wall Rose. "According to reports, the breach is situated around that point in Wall Rose," he stated before he turned to the group of recruits with a wrinkle to his brow. "The situation is difficult. If you want to seal the wall, then we have to deal with the Titans that are still spilling into Trost first."

MENTIONS: Colorless Spectrum [Laurie]
​

​

Elke didn't expect to get approached by anyone, especially since the others appeared too caught up with their own stuff to walk up to her and offer her comfort. When Laurie knelt down in front of her, the girl said nothing. At this point, the tears had stopped not by her own volition, but because of the fact that she could not produce any more. All that came from her were dry, cracked sobs that escaped her shivering form. Her knees hurt, her arms hurt, her whole body hurt, and most of all, her head rattled with terrible, horrible thoughts. Even Laurie's voice could not penetrate her racing thoughts. It should have been her. She wasn't worth dying for; it was sheer luck that she had gotten to safety all on her lonesome. Anke was the much better sister. She was stronger, tougher, faster-- she had made it to the top ten and earned it. But no, not her. She was just a sniffling, sobbing girl that had gotten into something she couldn't handle. What had made her think that she could handle the stress of being in the military, much less the Scouts?

It wasn't until Laurie held out his flask that Elke reacted. Frustration, anger, fear, sorrow-- all of it had accumulated into a boiling point. She pulled her hands away from her face and lashed out at his outstretched hand in a furious attempt to knock the container away from her. "Get away from me!!" she screeched in desperation. She didn't want anyone near her. Not Luka, not Jericho, not even Laurie. They probably all felt bad for her. They probably all saw her as a little girl who needed a hug and words of comfort. They probably all saw her as a useless failure. Did her whole squadron not get wiped save for Luka and herself?

The flash of sudden anger subsided after a brief moment. Sorrow and horror had quickly followed it, and she brought her hands to her head as the feeling threatened to overwhelm her once again. "L-Laurie... I'm so sorry, I..." she murmured through quivering lips. Her words were punctuated by hefty sobs and slight sniffles as she lifted her head to stare him directly in the face. "My squadron... they were wiped out, Katsu, Lena, Anke... Luka's the only other person that made it... if only I could have helped out more, they... would still be here." She ducked her head in shame, screwing her eyes shut as she stifled another series whimper. "If only I was as strong as her..."

 

[. D O V E]

Gwen Bulwark​

The obnoxious cackling eventually died down as Gwen finished a completely unnecessary and complicated series of hand gestures with Sean. Let's just say that once upon a time, the redhead taught her fellow wall worshipper how to appropriately greet a member of the Bulwark family. Alas, Sean might be one of the most credulous soul out there, as Gwen was an ambassador of anything but appropriate.

Once he scooped her up into a hug, Gwen couldn't really say that she was surprised. Sean has a certain energy enveloping him. One that was akin to an overly friendly dog who'd wag its tail for just about anyone. "Easy, boy!" She didn't mind the man's hug, but her right arm surely did. It wasn't long before both of her feet were back on the ground, and Sean was regarding her with an imitation of her father. A poorly done one, might she add. Regardless, it brought a shine of amusement in her emerald eyes.

"What can I say? I'm in my rebellious phase." She answered with a nonchalant shrug. "Although, I'm more surprised to know that you enlisted. You've inherited your grandmother's business, have you not? You could've just settled in Wall Sina, tailoring clothes and whatnot with a lovely wife." She finished her sentence with a clearly fake dreamy sigh. "But instead, here you are, freshly shat out by the ass of hell." Gwen couldn't help but wonder if Sean joined up because he had some idiotic belief that his effort could make the world a better place, or he was simply bored out of his mind. She'd definitely like the latter option more.

She stayed still once he studied her form with his gaze. It was a familiar scene. "Oh please, you've seen me worse." She used to introduce her new marks to Sean every time they see each other during masses. "Besides, why are you so concerned over my love life? Don't tell me that you've been harbouring feelings for me all this time, but you've always thought that I was out of your reach, so you simply went on your way and found yourself a girlfriend named Siggy- but now that we've been reunited, both fresh from a life-or-death situation, you realize that the feelings you've long shoved deep down is crawling back up and threatening to rip you into shreds until you let it out." Gwen, completely without shame, told Sean with a straight face and a flat tone, seemingly in one breath.

Tags: Colorless Spectrum The Prophet (mentioned)

 

[Colorless Spectrum]

Laurence Arnault

Elyse had come over, Laurie didn't notice her coming over but he was relieved to see her alive. Her eyes met with his knowing what she was asking with just one look even when no words were said. He shook his head. Anke was gone, that is what he conveyed to his fellow cadet.

"Alright," Laurie said to Elyse, watching her to make sure she doesn't fall until her figure disappeared from the sea of other cadets. He turned his attention back to Elke, he felt his heart sank further down as he looked at her.

He placed the flask in front of her again, urging her to drink. "Elke, you really need to-"

The flask rattled at the floor, its content spilling to the ground and the cap was a few meters away. Laurie wasn't surprised and he wasn't angry at her for lashing out at him either. He felt the corners of his lips tug ever so slightly but a smile didn't seem fitting to show. "It's okay, if you want to lash out I can take it." He said to her in a soft tone.

Laurie knew how she felt. He was the same years ago, he didn't know what to say to make Elke feel better and it felt like there was nothing that ever could. Not right now. Not like this. Maybe it was best to just leave her alone.

"You made it too... Not just Luka." Laurie said to her, unable to stop himself. "I used to ask myself that, if only, I still do. It doesn't get any easier... Losing someone, I mean." A sigh had left his lips as he moved over to reach the flask and its cap, screwing it shut but not without wincing in pain because of his side. "I remember back then, when Anke worked for my grandparents and when I first met her, she used to talk about you a lot, at first I thought she made you up, I didn't believe there were other twin's besides Jo's brothers because I heard that twins were rare. She works to keep you both afloat, Papa and Nana always had a soft spot for her. They gave her food so that she could share it with you. Sometimes it was like she was more their grandchild than I was but... That's okay. I mean, she was there when me and my mother weren't. Anke was a really good person." Then he was silent, he was at a loss on what to say next, his time at Shiganshina was hazy and jumbled even though it also felt so fresh with what happened on the other side of the Walls.

He placed the flask beside Elke, the tiniest tug on his lips. "Drink it, please? I'll go find Elyse and that bandage for your leg. Unless you want me to stay and keep you company?"

mention: || interaction: M Moonlessite Danidify

 

[lion.]

Ramiel Diakos​

It had taken that one soldier one hundred and fifty one seconds to die.

People didn’t die on others immediately. In a rattle of fear, they frantically struggled, quivering with fits against their dying mind. Then, their skeleton, barbed with function, loosened like pollen, abstrusely drifting somewhere far and beyond the oracular wind. And, as the present grew to the past, their lungs forgot the premise of a field; no fences. No walls. Their own voice began to get shut out from their throat with a nearly necessary need because all beautiful songs ended accidentally and simply. Lastly, with gradation, they bled out, donned pale against the damp cathedral cobblestones, and transcended to the darkness that had been there all along.

It was unclear what death was. But, nothing brung them back. Ramiel Diako’s eyes tamed upon a soldier grappling a corpse, starving for a miracle under a sky that was clouded dark as Death’s scythe and streaky with shells of silver bullets which puddled where the ground canted with uneven inclinations. With a primal reaction to death from afar, Ramiel Diakos found that for a single moment, he could not find the courage to move.

The mission had concluded.

There was no telling effect of where Ramiel Diakos wandered, where his boots metallically whipped against the surface. His gloved hands cliffed to the handles of his unbloody blades, yet against their honor, they dragged on his sides like rocks to a river; they wore and grinded with resistance against the dirt. Off and on, his neck welded up, the distortion of unfamiliar faces splintering to clarity. They greeted him back like tourists, their faces were soiled with blood-glow grime and their expressions threaded with a blankness that dollmakers tendered in their art.

Words fail ever so often.

It could no longer be doubted that they met at crossfires, oriented towards worlds apart. Even now, her eyes were the royal hue that wanded the glossiness of the king's glass of champagne. His were deep and empty pockets. Ample money and grit never combined well with greed and a bare cupboard. Separated, they were, though they walked on the same path and thinned out around the incarnadine blood-stained square of space. His vignette eyes passed between hers slowly collecting the features of her face to make sure they were hers. That was the thing. He never thought about Elyse Hildrebrand, just simply gone.

Hal’s unsinkable voice trawled to his ears.

“We’ve got a battle to watch,” Hal had said to him in the very beginning.

Still, his mind was blistering speed.

Everyone was born with eyes, but there were times where heads turned aside, where fine vision scratched around to go blind. He had seen it all… the unthinkable tests to freedom. That was what Ramiel Diakos had watched, and he couldn’t look away. The rain was heavy with an alchemist’s rub of salt. Stiff competition with the weather may have been the omission of something malevolent, but the propellers were turning and the gas was hissing. Unmitigated violence in the battle-field, legibly rapt away his vision. Hot and broiling, the blood and bodies had spilled, scattered, slashed or simply dropped and grown towards the crusts of the earth. Then, there had been a jolt of lightning, like wrath’s hellish incarnation.

In plainness like a grieving raven sitting on his tongue, his voice staggered down a pitch to repeat Hal’s words, “I watched the battle.”

His clench on his blades began to wane like his hold on his composure.

So finishing, while his mouth became immobile again, he had moved. The blades dropped with a clunk. Lightness on his heels, his palms clinched down on her shoulders. Dismal was their conversation from last night. It was replaced by something more stranger.

“Who told you?” he bitterly whispered, unflinching, “Who told you to throw yourself at the titans like that?” Cheating his tongue against his teeth, he couldn’t bear down to say, “That’s not your job. It’s mine.”

 

[AI10100]

Mentions: . D O V E ​

A rebellious phase? Maybe if Sean wasn't going through his own before his grandmother died, maybe he would have said something about not believing Gwen. Still, it did sound that they had... mostly the same circumstances. Yes. One hundred percent. Gwen didn't have much of a reason to lie about anything anyway. "Uh huh. Me? Staying at home all day, tailoring outfits? Gwen, my dear, dear, dearest friend... you might be the one with memory issues here. I can't even sit down for more than a minute! Let alone run a whole business!" He let out a hearty chuckle, bringing both of his hands on his waist as he did. Sean was always known for being on the go. While he did learn how to become a proper tailor after a while, he preferred doing more physically strenuous activities like running the fabrics and visiting the warehouses in his grandmother's stead.

"It's under my name and all but I left it in very capable hands. I get some annual reports and have to make some decisions every now and then, but..." Sean shrugged. It wasn't rare for him to receive a letter or two every now and then regarding where to take the business. He wasn't the best at making decisions if he was being honest, and the business could have been left in way better hands, but his grandmother taught him a few tips and tricks. Unfortunately, becoming a business owner for the rest of his life was not something that sounded appealing to him.

As Gwen continued to speak, Sean had an increasingly confused expression on his face. "Okay, that's a lot to unpack right there." He said as he raised his hand to signal for her to not interrupt him while he's talking. As if he would even allow it with how fast he spoke afterwards. "First of all, Siggy is my boyfriend!" He huffed while crossing his arms. A moment passed and it was apparent that he was confused by his own statement. "Wait no... that's not quite right... He's my friend and he's a guy!" He nodded to himself, proud of the clarification. "And second of all, gross, do I look like the kind of person who'd be hung up on anybody? You're cool and all but so not my type." Well, Sean wasn't exactly sure what his type was or what even was a type but he's seen other people say it before so he thought it would be an appropriate response.

Sean sat back down on the porch, patting the empty space beside him. "Anyway! How did your first uh mission feel like? I'm gonna be honest with you..." He dropped his voice to a whisper, mindful enough not to express his elation so loudly in a group of mourning people. "I found it like really... exciting? We managed to take down four titans with just the four of us like—" He made a series of slashing movements, a grin on his face. A moment later it fell and he placed both hands on his knees. "Well, a lot of people died but that's... kind of expected in the military." It was a no-brainer. Sean joined specifically because there didn't seem like anything more exciting than facing death every day.

He cleared his throat, shaking out of the momentary stupor. "Oh, then we went up and saw that friend of yours... Halvor? Yeah, he just... annihilated the titans that trapped us in HQ. Really saved our asses back then. Oh, he almost squashed us with a titan's body though, so I really got to talk about that with him." Sean remembered. It was a good thing that they were still running on leftover adrenaline and instinct or else that might have ended them. He wasn't sure how well he'll rest in the afterlife knowing it was one of their fellow cadets that squashed them even if it was by accident. "And then, the... armored titan appeared and..." He trailed off. His eyebrows were scrunched together and he stared off into the space in front of them. "I wanted to kill it myself."

 

[. D O V E]

Gwen Bulwark​

Gwen's right brow seemingly rose with each word coming out of Sean's mouth. The grin on her face only faded when he pointed out that she was so not his type. She flattened her expression as she stared at his disgusted look. "You're quite defensive over a joke." Oh man, maybe he did have feelings for her. She should reject him right now, lest he throws himself to a titan's mouth in the next expedition. "My fate is already intertwined with someone else, Sean, maybe in another life." Laurie will realize it sooner or later.

Fortunately, Sean switched to another topic before Gwen could further reverse the table. She shot him an amused look after he went on about his desire to kill the Armored Titan. This was the first time she has ever seen him so lost in thought. Eventually, Gwen's emerald eyes occupied the space Sean was blankly staring into in an attempt to snap the boy back to reality. "I've never caught you so passionate about something, aside stealing horses."

Once she was sure that Sean's focus was back on her, she began to thoughtfully rub her chin with a thumb. "First off, Halvor's not that amazing. I can beat his ass, I assure you. Also, I doubt you'd be able to get an audience with him. He'll either be the military's pet titan or be dead in a ditch come the morning." Gwen silently wonder if her former combat partner was still breathing. Oh, well. "And second, that's an amusing notion. I'm sure the Armored Titan will flatten you into a parchment, but it's interesting nonetheless." The glint in her eyes warned that Gwen's about to poke her nose into somebody's business.

"You were in Shiganshina when it fell, yes? The Armored Titan was also there... Perhaps you seek vengeance?" Gwen has always been a curious girl. Solving mysteries has always been her favorite pastime. It just so happened that the best sources of mysteries are people. "Whatever the case, it'll take a miracle for you to kill the Armored Titan." She hummed in thought as she recalled what happened in the headquarters. The image of Halvor emerging from the rebel titan's nape formed in her mind. "But killing the person in its nape? Hmm, who knows? Maybe you'd stand a better chance." The chances of the Armored Titan being like Halvor was pretty high, considering how it behaved.

She opened her arms, gesturing to the people around them. "They could be walking among us right now."
Then, in a typical Gwen fashion, she proceeded to randomly pick her nose.

Tags: AI10100

 

[Danidify]

ELYSE HILDEBRAND​

“Watched?”

Wary eyes distantly scratched the surface, a cascade of question marks arising between the timid glimpses. Unorthodox confusion burned into the noble’s mind, glowing at the clanging of metal, blazing at what was to come next. Diakos was always a difficult book to read, but there was little need for literacy to see that something was not quite right.

Elyse flinched as thunder struck on her shoulders, the whispered aftershocks ringing in her ears as asynchronous intrusions. It took a moment to recover.

"I had orders."

Her tone embraced the pragmatism of the message it delivered, though it hummed not without a trace of understanding. Protector and Protected- their contractual roles had lasted so long they almost began to feel natural despite common resistance. How, however, would their agreement hold now that the precious cargo suddenly dropped in value? Better yet, how could it hold now that the very protector was worth more?

“I’m a soldier too now, Ramiel. It’s my job as much as it is yours.” Sympathetic and stalwart notes coalesced above a melody of reluctance.

“I'll fend for myself, so just- forget about having to protect me and start caring for yourself, please.” Confident words arose in stark contrast to prior shudders of fear and current injuries, too much so for an earnest and transparent soul to handle. Elyse tried hard to feign strength, but this ideal of competency and the ought of resilience both strayed far from the actual truth. As such, her push for freedom came out incoherent and insincere, begrudgingly bound to the inevitable codependence that was as homely as it was infuriating.

Thankfully, there was no time to go further.

“I’m worried about the others.” The brunette brazenly cut through the thread of the conversation, slicing the veil of intimate conflict to cast them vulnerable to bigger atrocities once again. The polluting ache of defeat, pain and loss lingered too densely in the area for them to remain still for too long.

“I know Laurie’s safe. Elke too, but she’s injured and-” A painful pause ensued as intermezzo while Elyse’s tongue cramped to a bitter taste. “Mourning, I'm afraid.” She didn’t dare to elaborate.

“Did you spot someone else by chance? Anyone?”

INTERACTIONS: lion. (Ramiel)
BRIEF MENTIONS: M Moonlessite (Elke) Colorless Spectrum (Laurie) ​

 

[The Prophet]

Spoiler: Appearance

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Since when have you stopped being a doctor?

The question had hit him suddenly; sitting there minding his own business and away from others. How he arrived at the question he did not know, but the silent blonde regarded it with seriousness. He never stopped, right? Since they returned he had tended to….a single person, before huddling off to the side and doing what was effectively writing his nerves away.

What?

That wasn't right. His brain all but reset as he recounted events, as the cadet brought a hand to the bridge of his nose. This wasn't him; the old him would have been in the tent with the other medical crew. The old him would have run out of supplies by now. The old him would have been helping. He couldn't have possibly been affected by it somehow, right?

Looking up from his book, Siegfried took a second look at his surroundings. Where before he saw generally healthy enough if downtrodden soldiers, the reality was quite different. That woman wasn't bruised; she had a deep gash on her leg. Nor was that man he thought sleeping; he couldn't open his right eye. That wasn't right. Eyebrows furrowed, he looked down at his notes. They looked like they always did, until he turned back a page. His recollection of today's events looked clean enough to be read, but compared to yesterday's they looked sloppy, rushed. That wasn't right. He checked his pack, recounting medical supplies. The numbers were nearly all wrong, he actually had more than what he previously thought. How could he have missed something so important? That wasn't right.

He wasn't Incompetent; so why was he acting so irregularly? Tapping the hard spine of his journal to the edge of the crate he sat upon, Siegfried performed a self-diagnosis.

Irregular behavior? Check. Dulled senses? Check. Involved in a traditionally traumatic event? Check.

Had he been...shaken by today? Coping? Siegfried let a small laugh escape his form; this was so…weird. soldiers were so very weird. Heart surgery had proved to give him less of a reaction his first time, and yet here a skirmish proved to be enough to alter his behavior even if only moderate. Siegfried hopped down from the crate and slipped on an armband he received given his background. When the bright red cross was visible, he called out.

"Medical here! The tents are backed up, so is anyone in need of medical assistance? Please, grab my attention! I repeat, Medical is here!"

Being shaken was simply unacceptable. It served no purpose to him. Looking around, he took stock of the initial group needing attention. He wasn't used to going to patients instead of the opposite, but this clearly wasn't a normal day for anyone. Siegfried crouched down next to an older woman who was clutching her thigh, and slipped on a pair of clean white gloves. Handing the woman a twisted cloth, Siegfried slipped back into his own. "Bite down now, or the pain might cause you to squirm and jerk. I'm going to sanitize the area before stitching and bandaging the wound. It is important you don't move much. If you try to move your leg as I work, I will hurt you."

Soon he moved onto another, the man with an injured eye. "Expect limited vision for
The next two weeks at least, and only take the patch off for regular cleaning and to give it air. Any lower and you would be blind in one eye by now. I think you'll find a scar the better alternative. Also, drink water, your body is suffering from light dehydration."

And so Siegfried began to move about, delivering first-aid to whoever called out or otherwise needed it. Calling out every now and then to announce his presence was effective, and so he continued to do so when not immediately tending to someone.

"I believe I will need to requisition medical supplies sooner than I thought."

 

[AI10100]

Mentions: . D O V E ​

Sean stuck a tongue out at her before leaning back, holding onto the edge of the porch they were on. "Hoho? You have someone you want to be with? What a surprise!" He straightened his posture once again, tilting his head. "Met him over the training or something? Whatever, whatever, whoever gets saddled with you has their work cut out for them." He let out a chuckle and gave a dismissive wave of his hand. Gwen was great but from what he heard from many others, she wasn't exactly the easiest to get along with. Sean begged to differ but maybe he was just a little different.

Passionate? He guessed what happened back then could be chalked up to passion. But could passion spring up from a place that he didn't even know before? Still, he listened to Gwen as she talked about Halvor and him being unremarkable. Sure, maybe his human form wasn't all that impressive but he was a titan! That has to be another level of amazingness, right? "It'd be a waste to kill him, I think. Like come on, a titan on our side? Would definitely be something new that could really help. But you're right, they probably wouldn't let me talk to him. Real shame too." He let out a sigh and shook his head. He wanted to hear about what it felt like to be a titan who could easily decimate other smaller titans!

"Psh, you think I don't know that? What's important is that I tried to get to my goal!" Sean was and likely will always be reckless. He'd undertake any challenge that was presented to him with a whoop and a smile on his face. But he was aware of his own shortcomings and implausible events. But hey, he wouldn't know if he could overcome something if he didn't at least try. "Imagine if I do succeed though! I'll both probably get some recognition and get rid of this stupid itch at the back of my brain. Two for one, not a bad deal."

Curious about where she was going with her little psychoanalysis of him, Sean listened intently. Shiganshina. He didn't remember much about that place. In fact, he didn't remember anything at all. He doubted he could roam the streets with pinpoint accuracy if they were to go there on a mission. Gwen did raise a good point. Maybe this weird, passionate hatred for the Armored Titan stemmed from somewhere in his lost memories. Something like... his body remembering but his brain just decided to not recall anything? Sean was no medical expert though. He should ask Siegfried if that was even possible but it did sound likely.

"The person at the nape, huh?" Sean repeated, pressing a hand to his chin. Now that he thought about it, the Armored Titan also being a human was entirely possible, if not likely. It behaved differently from the other titans and its fighting style reminded Sean of some hand-to-hand combat skills they practiced before. "Imagine being a human that just decided to fuck over everyone else... like, come on, why would you even do that? Is it because of some sort of revenge plot? Like, come on, I know some people kill others cause they hate them, but do you really gotta involve innocents in it?"

He blinked at her, at the insinuation that someone who could be a titan would be walking among them, talking with them, consoling a trainee who lost someone important during the raid... could they even trust people to still be completely human? Could Gwen be a titan too? He paused. Could he be a titan too and he didn't know about it?

"ARGH, thinking about it makes my head hurt! Whatever comes, comes, I guess!"

 

[Moonlessite]

MENTIONS: @Solace [Gil + Hal], Arcanist [Jo], Castello [Leon], homintales [Sera], ShadyLady [Nina], SpookyBones [Milo], Colorless Spectrum [Laurie], The Prophet [Siegfried], AI10100 [Sean], dove. [Gwen], lion. [Ramiel], Danidify [Elyse]​

Ambrose didn’t believe in miracles. Not usually, anyway. Every effect had a cause; every course of action led to its consequences. Though, it was on that day, in the sunhigh of Trost and after the first wave of slaughter, that she saw it. A giant beast of war, spawned from the flesh of man. A paradox of nature. A miracle.

The wind’s invisible fingers stroked her hair as she stood at the top of a house. She stood unnaturally still for a person of her demeanor, especially in the face of potential danger. Her hand laid against the cracked stone of a chimney as she leaned on her right leg. An expression of awe had grossed her battle-paled features as she watched the chaos by the breach of the wall. Or, what was left of it. The strange creature was pressed up against the wall itself, Titans collapsing upon it in maniacal frenzy– but were stopped in their tracks by the crystal that crawled over the abnormal Titan’s torso. Steadily but surely, the crystal extended its fatal hold, encompassing the writhing monsters that tried so hard to dig their nails and teeth into the flesh of their foe. The strange, glossy material trailed up and up, over and under… until the Titans stopped moving overall.

Ambrose blinked in surprise when a gap formed at the nape of the last and largest of the crystallizing Titans. What is that? she wondered as she leaned towards the edge of the roof. A figure emerged from the said opening, and that was when shock completely overwhelmed her features. The world seemed to stop around her– if only for a moment. She adjusted her position and propelled herself towards the strange beast. The woman took little time to touch down on the monster’s shoulder, her eyes wide with awe at the sight in front of her.

A boy. Not just any boy. It was the boy she had spoken with, long ago… How could she forget?

She stared down at the unconscious boy, hardly noticing the straggling Titan that crumpled to the ground behind her. Ambrose could count on Gil, most of the time, anyway– especially now, when her mind ran rampant with wild, hectic, yet excited thoughts. When he touched down beside her after slaying the Titan, she spoke to him without moving her gaze from the face of the sleeping boy.

“Tell me you remember him.”

---

“Commander Almeras.”

The blue skies overhead had dissipated, revealing smooth, off-white plasterwork. Ambrose found herself back in the dim-lighted courtroom. She, along with Gil and the recruits that were assigned to Halvor’s squad during the sealing of Trost’s gate, stood behind a dark oak bench. They were adjacent to a tall podium where the Commander-in-Chief, an old, thin, spectacled man with short white hair and more wrinkles than she could count, sat in a plush chair. She knew him well— his name was Jonah Sepp, and she wouldn’t be surprised if had lived longer than her mother. Across from them was another bench, behind which Commander Darius Mace and several members of the Military Police stood. And of course, directly in the middle of the three parties, the man of the hour; with his hands bound behind him and around a steel stake, Halvor knelt on his knees in front of the podium. She almost felt bad for him, though this was no time to be emotional.

Sepp’s clerk, a small woman with her black hair shaped in a bob cut, began to read from the dossier of the day’s events. “Today, at approximately 0940 hours, the Colossal Titan suddenly appeared outside of Trost District for the first time since the breach of Wall Maria five years ago. After summarily breaching Wall Rose, members of the 104th Training Corps who were assigned to cannon maintenance engaged the Colossal Titan, but were unable to neutralize the enemy after it vanished into thin air,” the clerk cleared her throat as she shuffled from one report to the next. “With the Survey Corps recently departed on an exploratory mission, the Garrison assumed command of the situation and mobilized its manpower alongside the 104th Training Corps to execute the Special Colossal Titan Strategy.”

“Halvor Verdende and Ramiel Drakos were assigned to the rear guard for this operation, while their comrades filtered into the middle guard. Almost all of the vanguard were wiped out upon initial contact with the first wave of Titans, and in less than an hour, the middle guard suffered large casualties and supply shortages, gradually forcing the frontlines past Trost Headquarters.”

“However, Halvor Verdende is reported to have abandoned his squadron at the rear guard as disaster struck the ranks, and… transformed into a Titan in the southern sector,” the woman allowed the recollection of events to sink in as this roused astonishment from the numerous delegates. “Countless individuals among the ranks of both the 104th Training Corps and the Garrison testify that they witnessed Halvor Verdende’s Titan engage and kill thirteen other Titans in its path, apparently providing protection to a number of soldiers.”

She straightened her papers neatly before setting them down on the table, cupping her hands together with a stern expression. “These testimonies also indicate that the Armored Titan appeared outside of Trost Headquarters, and that Halvor Verdende’s Titan engaged the enemy in single combat, defeating it.” More collected disbelief rose among the attendees before the clerk continued. “After the engagement, his Titan collapsed in apparent weariness, to which the witnesses claimed to have then spotted and pulled Halvor Verdende from the nape of his Titan’s decomposing body. Shortly afterwards, the Garrison successfully finished their evacuation of all civilians from Trost District, and all remaining soldiers retreated from the city proper at approximately 1120 hours.”

Ambrose’s eyes flicked back to Hal. The scenarios reported back to them seemed so otherworldly… if she hadn’t seen the boy emerge from the crystal mural at the gate, she’d be less inclined to believe them.

“Originally, the final component of the Special Colossal Titan Strategy would have seen Trost District closed off to quarantine the invading Titans, but word of Halvor Verdende’s ‘power’ spread like wildfire among the surviving ranks. This sparked divisive sentiments before Commander Haas arrived to assess the situation himself, and a plan to seal the breach in Wall Rose was concocted with assistance from Joanna Shreiber and Luka Soroka of the 1o4th Training Corps.”

Her eyes briefly cast a look towards the jury box where several key witnesses from the Battle of Trost District stood. Among them were Sera Mayer, Laurence Arnault, Siegfried Jean-Lorraine, Elyse Hildebrand, and Joanna Schreiber. They also wandered to the subject of the court meeting, Halvor Verdende, watching the soldier-thing wriggle tensely from his handcuffs around the post at the center of the room.

“In accordance with the Garrison, Halvor Verdende would transform into a Titan and seal the breach in the wall through two available means. As observed and reported by eyewitnesses, his Titan is able to harden parts of its body into a sturdy crystalline material that would repel ordinary Titans. He would use this power to harden his Titan’s body at the breach, effectively sealing it. Luka Soroka is not here with us today, but in the event that Halvor Verdende was unable to utilize this power, his contingency plan elected for Halvor Verdende to carry and use Trost’s large boulder monument to seal the breach.”

“After the operation’s commencement and Halvor Verdende’s subsequent transformation, he was seemingly unable to crystallize his hand in a reliability test, and the Garrison decided to act upon the contingency plan. A squadron to protect his Titan as it carried the boulder was formed among trainees Laurence Arnault, Sera Mayer, Sean Siedel and Siegfried Jean-Lorraine, led by Garrison members Jorge Culver, Isa Gorgois and squad leader Nigel Denning. The rest of the military force would help clear the path of Titans to and around the immediate breach zone.”

“This operation was plagued with massive casualties, compounded by the greater loss of life earlier that day. Testimony from the survivors of his squad state that they were swarmed by numerous Titans a few meters away from the breach, subsequently overwhelming Halvor Verdende and forcing him to drop the boulder. This operation nearly ended in failure.”

“However, as we are all aware, it did not. Several accounts indicate that Halvor Verdende ‘fought to the very end’ and threw himself directly into the breach in a foolhardy, vain attempt to repel the Titans through close combat. It was seemingly only in this desperate moment that Halvor Verdende was able to utilize his hardening power in full, crystallizing his entire body alongside all of the Titans that were climbing up his body and effectively sealing the breach in its entirety at approximately 1300 hours. As you may have heard, witnesses to this resulting crystalline formation, civilian and military alike, have dubbed this a ‘mural’ of sorts, calling it the Titanomachy. Momentarily after these events, Commander Almeras and the Survey Corps returned from their expedition and assisted in the final task of the operation; eliminate all remaining Titans from Trost District. The city was cleared of all enemies by 1500 hours.”

A permeating silence followed after the end of the woman’s explanation; it was a well-needed break, one which provided Ambrose with a brief moment to think. Thankfully, there was little to think about. It all boiled down to the fact that Halvor Verdende had saved their hides not once, but twice in a row. All the more reason to keep him alive, and all the more reason to keep him from the Military Police’s clutches.

“The events that day have granted humanity with its first victory against the Titans. As we all know, the verdict given today will place Halvor Verdende under the jurisdiction of the Survey Corps, or surrendered to the Military Police.” The clerk spoke up once again to give a closing statement.

“Commander Almeras,” Sepp began with a pointed look towards her, “you may give the first opening statement.”

Ambrose turned towards the pulpit across from her once again. “We are truly blessed to have had Hal on our side on that fateful day. If he didn’t have any kind of special in him, we’d surely all be dead by now, devoured by Titans or crushed underfoot and left to rot under the sun. It’s true that we don’t understand much about him, but that is why the Survey Corps is so desperate to acquire him. With the fact that Hal’s proven that he’s on humanity’s side on more than one occasion already,” she turned to Hal then, the corner of her lip twisting ever so slightly, “with Hal under the wing of the Survey Corps, we’ll be sure to learn everything there is to him for certain. With this knowledge, humanity’s first victory will undoubtedly turn into countless ones.”

“That is quite the heartfelt sentiment, Commander Almeras,” Darius Mace finally said from across her, his thick brows pinning together as he glared at her. “Though, let us try to be realistic.”

The slight smile that played on her lips disappeared entirely. She wanted to give the man a scowl, but her face panned as the man continued to speak. Of course he’d think he had something smart to say.

“Your regiment wishes to take in an anomaly, one that slaughtered more than a dozen Titans on his lonesome. Halvor’s strength, stamina, and perseverance are something that humanity has never seen or understood. You claim that he is on our side– how can we be certain?” Darius’ eyes narrowed. “He may very well be something we don’t understand yet– not an ally, but something much worse than hundreds of Titans altogether. If the Military Police takes Halvor into custody, we’ll be able to study him in a safe, secure location, where he can be restrained and kept under control. As the reports say, Halvor cannot even control his own hardening ability, so what makes you think he can be controlled in the first place? It’s too risky to give him the liberty of going wherever Commander Almeras wishes. Who knows what may happen on an expedition… he may as well be able to wipe out the whole regiment on his lonesome.”

A low murmur rippled across the assembly, though the clearing of Sepp’s throat silenced whatever noise threatened to rise up above the level of whispers. Ambrose’s eyebrow twitched. “You make a good point, Mace. Though, I have to ask, what exactly does the Military Police plan to do with Hal in their possession?” she asked. “Keep him locked up in a cell like a monster? Perform inhumane experiments on him? The Military Police has never seen a Titan before Trost… what makes you believe you’ll be able to find out anything more about him than the Survey Corps can?”

She paused for a second, turning to face Sepp once again. “We have been subduing and killing Titans for many, many years. The regiment is more than equipped to take the necessary steps towards using Hal for humanity’s benefit.”

“Inhumane? He, no, it is a monster. One that should be cut down where it stands,” Darius retorted, a small amount of heat seeping into his words. “Or has the Survey Corps forgotten its only purpose with Titans, failure after failure? The Military Police should take over these responsibilities for them.”

“What Commander Mace says is true,” Sepp rumbled, though his features showed that he was less than impressed so far. “Halvor Verdende is too much of an unknown factor. I cannot help but doubt the Survey Corps’ ability in suppressing him in comparison to the Military Police keeping him underground and behind the walls to uncover this mysterious power.”

The court’s leaning favor towards the Military Police rattled Hal. “Maybe I am a monster, but what use would my power be to humanity if I never saw the light of day again?” the sound of metal on metal grated on the ears of the court as the soldier grinded his handcuffs against the post. He turned towards the side of the Military Police with a furious expression, the veins along his neck popping out. “How can you call yourselves soldiers if you haven’t ever seen one of them? Mice for men, the lot you are.”

Ambrose’s headache was starting to get worse. Darius’ words already grated on her nerves and wore down her patience until it was paper thin, but now Hal had to go and speak up when he should have kept his mouth shut. She opened her mouth, ready to once again defend the boy, though she was quickly silenced by a rapping at her shoulder. She turned around slightly to see Gil looking at her with a confident smirk. The sight soothed her slightly– he had to have a plan. Though, when the man reached back to pull out a glass object from behind him, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Great.

With the court’s attention primarily fixated on the outburst from their subject, the room fell silent as a crypt. The echo of boots against the tile floor slowly shifted towards Halvor Verdende from the left side of the room before Hillel Ackerman shimmied into the limelight, wielding a sizable bottle of liquor like a blunt weapon. “Ya-” As Halvor moved to turn towards the scruffy man, Gil took the hilt in both hands and struck the boy with the bottle in an upper strike. “-hoo!” Halvor immediately recoiled from the blow as blood began to pour from his nose, dumbfounded by the senior scout’s demeanor. Before the boy could look up towards him and state confusion, Gil brought the butt of the bottle down against the top of Halvor’s head.

“Fresh meat oughta not spoil is’self,” the soldier brandished the bottle in his right hand as Gil repeatedly clubbed Halvor across the head over and over, bruising and bloodying the boy’s poor face. On one particular strike, the seemingly invincible bottle of liquor finally shattered upon collision, dousing Halvor in the alcohol as the room now reeked of champagne. “Goddamn it, that was the good shit!!” Gil blinked twice upon this incident and, enraged, proceeded to stamp Halvor under his right boot.

As Ambrose watched the spectacle unfold in front of her with a tired expression, Darius let out a high-pitched whistle to garner Gil’s attention. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Ackerman?” he snarled.

Gil held up Halvor’s face by the welt of his boot beneath his chin, raising a brow towards Darius and presenting the marred visage of their monster. “What? Ain’t you varmints gonna skewer ‘im?” he hocked a missile of spittle to the side, staring down towards the boy.

“Folks like you can lead a horse to water, but ain’t you makin’ it drink from it. We can yap til’ the cows come home, but I reckon this head’s too hard for hearin’,” Gil addressed the courtroom in his own choice of words, seeing that his attack had removed some of Halvor’s teeth. “Y’all think yer fixin’ to keep ‘im tame? Well, I’ll be– this one killed a dozen Titans. Let that sink in. Yer so against him, I reckon he could squash every one of you. Ain’t none of y’all is me, last I checked.”

Without missing a beat, Ambrose raised her hand and turned to Sepp. “Commander-in-chief, I propose that Hal be placed under Gil’s supervision in the Special Operations Squad. We’ll have him embark on an expedition with the Survey Corps beyond the walls, and the results of this endeavor will determine whether or not he is beneficial to humanity.”

Sepp stared back at her, the lines above his brows deepening as he frowned. “I’ve heard enough,” he announced, folding his hands in front of him. “I’ve reached a decision.”

 

[Moonlessite]

MENTIONS: @Solace [Hal], Arcanist [Jo], Castello [Leon], homintales [Sera], ShadyLady [Nina], SpookyBones [Milo], Colorless Spectrum [Laurie], The Prophet [Siegfried], AI10100 [Sean], . D O V E [Gwen], lion. [Ramiel], Danidify [Elyse]

LOCATION: Closing Ceremony
DATE: A week after Halvor Verdende's Trial​

The courtyard was full of shadows. Tall ones, short ones, ones that rippled with the flickering of the nearby braziers and ones that stood still in the firelight. There were those that were crested with the hue of the midnight blue skies above, branded with fresh moonglow, or burned along with the embers from the nearby torches. They all stood still, so very still, hardly a breath leaving them in the midst of that early summer evening that, for a brief moment, Ambrose thought they were all already dead. These recruits stared up at her with the whites of their eyes shining like coals in a campfire, their lips abnormally straight on their faces like lines of ash below their noses, their legs carrying their upright, young bodies with all of the strength they could muster.

Commander Almeras stood on the platform above them, a cutting winter wind in her eyes as she glared down at the assembly at her feet. The ceremony had been delayed a week to not only allow the recruits a respite, but to give them enough time to recover and burn the bodies scattered across Trost. Even then, there was the same pained tug at her heart that she always felt when delivering these speeches.

How many times had she seen this? How many did she have to remember? How many were there that she couldn’t forget?

“My name is Ambrose Almeras, Commander of the Survey Corps,” Ambrose began, clasping her hands behind her back. She tipped her head back, looking down her nose at the recruits. “Fourteen years ago, I stood where you stand now. I was young, fresh out of training, desperate to make a change in the world… a naive girl from Wall Sina who had little to no idea how unfair life really was. Little did I know what awaited me when I became a Scout.

“It’s true that I’m here to convince you lot to join the Survey Corps, but I’m not sugar-coating anything for any of you. Truth of the matter is, in this regiment, there’s no room for glory or renown. No one with half a brain in their skulls is going to cheer for you at the gate when you leave on an expedition. If you’re lucky, people will spit at your heels when you come home– that is, if you even come home in the first place. Out there, the Titans don’t care if you ranked top of your class during training, or if you passed all of your tests. You’ll taste all the same to them.

“Come winter, a third of you will be dead. This time next year, half of you will be gone,” Ambrose continued after a brief pause. She could see sweat glistening on several of the recruits’ brows. Some of their features, once hardened with resolve, had blanched. “Many of you won’t even get to see the outcomes of whatever victories we may achieve.

“You might be wondering at this moment, ‘what’s the point in becoming a Scout when I’m likely to end up dead? Why even bother?’ As I’ve stated before, I’ve been in your boots, I’ve had the same fire in my blood as some of you do right now. During these past fourteen years as a Scout, I’ve seen and heard unimaginable things, things that have whittled away my determination and persistence. But I’ve never felt so invigorated as I am now. For only a week ago, one of you by the name of Halvor Verdende has shown us that there is hope left for humanity– that we as a people finally have a chance to rise up against the Titans that have terrorized us for generations. He has already risked his life saving us from the Titans’ onslaught at Trost, in turn proving himself an ally of humankind. With his help, we will not only be able to uncover the mysteries that have shrouded Titankind for decades, but reclaim our homeland in Wall Rose.”

Ambrose swept her gaze over the recruits once again, the frosty glint in her eyes transforming into an azure blaze. “Yes, you may die early deaths, but know this– with each day that passes, we will take leaping strides towards victory unlike we ever did before. Your hard work and sacrifices will undoubtedly help usher in a new era for humanity. And so, I ask that any still willing to risk their lives, remain here and ask yourself, ‘Am I willing to sacrifice myself for humanity?’. As for the ones who wish to join another regiment,” she announced, “you are dismissed.”

The hot, dying spring wind washed past them in a sickly wave. Several of the recruits in front of her shuffled their feet; she could already see some of them turn on their heels and peel away from the others. “Commander… I’m not too sure, but I think you might’ve scared them a bit too much,” Xavier, one of the members of the Special Operations Squad, whispered harshly behind her. “We’ll be lucky if we get any fresh blood.”

Ambrose didn’t say anything. Instead, she looked at both the departing recruits and the ones who stayed for the moment with the same determined expression.

 

[homintales]

Sera Mayer: Moving Forward
Mentions: M Moonlessite Raiden ​

Chaos. It seemed like it was the only correct word to use when mentioning the unthinkable events that transpired in Trost… in Sera’s own residence. So much change, so many casualties, and now there were even more questions that would never receive any explanations. These were all obtained in such little time. And the whole mess was able to open Sera’s eyes.

Originally, Sera was under the assumption that the only reason why Humanity faced so many casualties and effectively lost Wall Maria when the Armored and Colossal Titans crashed through Wall Maria was thanks to Humanity’s zero preparation.

And she thought it was also the reason why Duncan and so many other victims were conscripted and sent to Wall Maria as a way to supposedly regain territory lost to the Titans. Were Humanity’s leaders ready to face so many loses, they might’ve formulated a genuine strategy. Instead, the foolish men wasted little time putting together a vicious slaughter.

But now, with a revised outlook, Sera understood she was the foolish one. Once Hal, in his new Titan form, was able to seal Trost, Sera looked upon Humanity’s situation with a new mindset. Even though she was proud to assist Hal and the others in saving Trost and most likely Humanity as a whole, and even with the additional Titan subjugations she gained in the process… this time, she was unable to ignore the costs.

Homes were utterly wrecked and reduced to rubble, which caused Sera to worry about Jory and the others she cared about, more and more chewed up corpses only continued to show up wherever Sera looked, some she only met recently at the HQ, and she stumbled across so many men and women sobbing and mourning those who were lost.

Much like Sera, these Recruits were once eager to get the opportunity to attack the Titans. And now… Now they were either consumed with grief or the Titan's forces proved too much.

So long as Humanity was going to come out victorious, they would need to sacrifice even more men and women to the Titans. It was a fact Sera always seemed to understand. But why did it take so long? Why was she only now… scared. She wasn’t going to make it all the way to Shiganshina while scared.

For now, with so many other questions and possibilities to consider, it was a question she was unable to provide an answer to. Right now, she just wanted to converse with someone who wasn't uncontrollably crying or a corpse.

Hal was, understandably, taken into custody once again. Of those unknown questions, Hal made up more than 50% on the list. Sera prayed the Scouts would win custody over Hal and put the unique lad to good use.

Once everything was settled, Sera wished Hal good luck, said a few goodbyes, and then abandoned the area. Desertion? That wasn’t the way Sera viewed it. Her people were still in Trost, so it seemed okay to check up on them. Assuming they were still at Sera’s residence.

There was a good chance they were able to evacuate to safety. And even though it wasn’t a possibility Sera wanted to consider, there was always the chance Jory and the others were… taken in the invasion. Faced with such an unthinkable possibility, Sera used the ODM Gear to travel through Trost as quickly as possible.

Along the way, she accidentally used what little gas still remained. She was also naive when she wasted just as much gas whilst subjugating Titans in order to make sure Hal wasn’t interrupted and successfully accomplished his mission to seal Trost. Now, with no immediate transportation, she was going to require a new method to return to HQ. For right now though, she was where she was needed.

Sera’s residence looked the same as when she left to join the Survey Corps and receive training. To Sera, it was like a lifetime passed since those restless nights.

Unable to waste anymore time, Sera went inside. The inside looked the same as well, which wasn’t exactly a positive thing. “Mom!” She called out, getting a quiet gasp in response. Sera’s eyes shifted to look into the kitchen, where she immediately spotted a lone figure. It was Fiona, Sera’s mom. Sera was momentarily relieved. However, she soon realized Sigrun, Sophia, and Jory were nowhere in sight. “M-mom… where are…”

Before the question was even finished, Fiona’s arms were already wrapped around Sera. “You’re okay!” She cried out. “With everything that was going on, everything I saw out there, I thought you were…” She paused. “And don’t worry, everyone else was evacuated.” And now, Sera’s concerns, at least any immediate concerns, were gone. “The only reason I stayed was to make sure no one would try to… Sera… what’s wrong?”

Sera Mayer, filled with so much raw emotion, was now, just like the men and women she saw mourning lost Comrades, sobbing. “I… I don’t…” She stuttered while attempting to wipe away all the tears. “I’m… I’m so scared, mom.” She confessed, causing Fiona’s eyes to greatly widen. The last time Sera admitted she was scared they were all still living on the streets.

“But… e-even now… I’m still not sure… why...” There was an obvious reason. But she was still oblivious to it. Sera’s crying, already excessive, was getting worse. “Dad… and that p-promise I made to ‘em…” Her watery gaze returned to Fiona. “How am I supposed to keep such a promise if I can’t even keep myself from getting scared in the middle of a war?!”

With everything now out in the open, Sera went almost completely silent, only letting out an occasional sniffle. Fiona remained silent as well, not sure what to say. “I… should’ve listened to Fabio and Anke.” Sera could recall the entire conversation. “They t-told me what the attack on Maria was like. And what… the aftermath w-was like.” It was likely worse than anything that occurred in Trost. But it was still the only thing to compare it to. “I should’ve taken everything they said seriously. But no, it only encouraged me.” Sera sighed. “If I can succumb to cowardice… then I won’t make it far out there.”

Sera then expected to receive a few comforting words. Most likely a “It’s okay, you don’t need to worry about it anymore.” or maybe she would say “You could always join the Military Police instead.” Those were the comforts Sera expected.

She certainly didn’t expect a sudden and unprovoked slap in the face. But even though Fiona was usually the most gentle woman around, that is exactly what Sera was given.

“Succumb to cowardice?” Even with a slightly red cheek, Sera’s main focus was now Fiona, who looked confusingly angry. “What are you even saying?” It wasn’t often that Sera would receive a lecture. At least from someone who wasn’t an MP who was more than a little suspicious of Sera.

“You’re scared… is that really your only excuse?!” Sera was unable to formulate a response, still shocked to the core. “You’ve always looked up to Duncan. And I certainly don’t want to spit on his name.” Sera’s eyes widened. “But… Duncan was a coward.”

What was she saying? On his last night with his family, and when Sera and the others were forced to say goodbye, Duncan looked ready to face even the largest Titans. He promised to save Maria and return as soon as possible. Sera would never again find such a courageous person. So instead, she wanted to mold into one. “No... He… was a-always so-”

“He couldn’t even manage to speak one word to me until we were eventually forced to say goodbye.” She confessed. Where was she even going with this? And more importantly, was it even true? “He couldn’t let you kids see ‘em so scared. So he pretended to act brave and even excited whenever you were around. But at night, the only thing he did was cry.” She paused and looked at Sera’s still wet eyes. “Actually, it was just like the way you were crying.”

Sera’s mind was all over the place. Her mother’s words, as upsetting and impossible as they sounded, were only providing Sera with the truth.

She wanted to say something, maybe ask a question. But she could only remain silent. Was there even a point in speaking? She looked to the floor and stared at it with an empty expression.

“However…” Once again, Sera’s eyes widened. He did make a promise.” She took a seat on the floor next to Sera. “His last night with us, he came to me and said that no matter how scared he got, no matter what obstacle came his way… He would just keep moving forward. He would find a way to move past the fear.” A few seconds passed, and tears were once again emerging from Sera’s eyes. However, these tears reflected something other than sadness.

“He loved us all…” She touched Sera’s shoulder. “He especially loved you. But he wasn’t some fearless warrior. Nobody is. Nobody can be.” She was starting to make sense. “Out there, fear can actually protect you, Sera. And it might just save you entirely.” She chuckled. “But I guess you wouldn’t understand that until now. Bravest one I know, you are.” Sera smiled and added a few chuckles as well. “His promise was fulfilled, I’m positive. And yours…” Her grip on Sera’s shoulder tightened. “I want you to fulfill it as well.”

Not in a million years would Sera expect such encouragement. Her mom would always tell Sera to stay away from trouble. Now she was practically encouraging a charge straight into it. “Dreams like yours, you can’t lose them.” Standing up, Fiona extended an arm to Sera. “Please, don’t stop so soon.” Sera took the arm and took a stand. “Join the Survey Corps. From there, you can find a way to retake Shinganshina. That is the only way you can avenge Duncan.”

Needing a few more minutes to take in everything that was just shared in a few short minutes, Sera remained quiet and composed. But once that old visualization returned, the same one where she stood atop Wall Maria, staring at a new and seemingly impossible world in which Humanity eradicates the Titans, she was ready to converse.

Hugging was something Sera rarely instigated. Aside from August, she was usually the one on the receiving end. But seeing as she was going through so many changes already, one more wouldn’t cause any problems. “I… I will. Thank you, mom.”

Giving more thanks and then asking Fiona to tell Jory and the others she loves them more than anything, Sera returned to the streets. Desertion, remember? Very serious crime. She needed to get to the HQ, and fast.

But as she was running towards the HQ at lightning speeds, Fiona shouted the same advice Sera would never forget. “Move forward, no matter what you feel.” Sera turned around and gave a partially visible wink. This time, a little quieter, she spoke again. “And… I love you.”

---

A week passed since Trost was reclaimed and Humanity was given a second chance. But unlike with Maria, this time around that chance was actually earned. And now, positive she was ready to face whatever was roaming outside the Walls, Sera joined the other Recruits to listen to the Commander's speech. Tonight was the night where they would all make a choice. Military Police, which was only available to the Recruits who scored in the top 10, the Garrison, or the Survey Corps.

As Commander Almeras spoke to the Recruits, informing them that should they join the Scouts, there was a good chance they wouldn't return, many Recruits started to walk away, opting to join the Garrison rather that face uncertainty.

Before Trost and speaking with Fiona, Sera would’ve found those Recruits pathetic and would’ve also gladly called them out on it. But now she was able to understand them, and, to a certain extent, even relate to them.

But now she couldn’t. She needed to fulfill the promise she made four years ago. She needed to…

“Commander, I consider it a great privilege to join you outside the Walls.” As it was already a minor offense to shout at one, Sera made sure to salute the superior to even things out. “I will gladly dedicate my heart and soul to your cause! Please, lead us to Wall Maria, lead us to victory, and lead us to the enemy!”

Sera stood firm, maintaining the salute.

 

[AI10100]

Mentions: The Prophet Colorless Spectrum homintales . D O V E ​

They said that once you had time to process what had happened, the reality of a situation will set into you. In the heat of the moment, your body only runs on instinct to ensure your survival. There wasn't time for emotion. There wasn't any time to freeze and break down, or else you would have died. Sometimes, death was inevitable. Even if you tried your best, it only took one wrong move to die to the titans. That much had been evident from the sheer amount of losses that they had suffered during Trost.

Sean looked upon the displaced people of Trost, looked upon the streets and the houses that had been destroyed. The titans had overtaken it, even for a short while, and rained destruction upon them. He had no memories of Shiganshina where he had been found. No memories to tie him back to that place. But he remembered the devastation that everyone around him was going through. To lose a home and loved ones were something he didn't wish on anyone, no matter how much they had wronged him.

Maybe his reasoning for joining was flimsy, but hey, if he could at least help stop this from happening again, that would be great.

When he was called to be part of the group to help with sealing the wall, he was more than happy to go. It was way better than sitting around and moping. He was glad that Siegfried was part of the group. He trusted everyone else, sure, but nothing was better than having a friend with you during it. They were tasked to protect Halvor while he was carrying the boulder to seal the wall. As much as Sean would have wanted to say that it had been smooth sailing, it was not.

At first, it was great. They had been progressing and slicing down titans that slipped past the other squads that got a little too close to Halvor. Then, the next thing he knew, the titans were everywhere— gnawing on his colleagues. He had almost been separated from the rest of the squad after Halvor dropped the boulder. Alongside the others, Sean made that desperate attempt to regain ground but ultimately failed. It was only through Halvor's actions that he had managed to tear through the titans and reach the hole.

Sean had to admit. He was nervous about the operation. He thought that was the end of it. As Halvor reached the breach and began to crystallize— those were fine, but when the titans began to climb on him to eat him, Sean wanted to help. What if Halvor died? They couldn't let him die. But he emerged after that. The breach was secured and the Survey Corps had returned. Then it was all a blur again.

The next few days came and went. He had reunited with Milo, tearful of a reunion it was despite being amongst the dead of Trost, but he was glad to have caught up with him. For the most part, Sean stuck with either Milo or Siegfried during the week. He did try to communicate more with his other squadmates Laurence, Laurie, was it?, and Sera. Familiarizing himself with potential candidates of people he'd be working with in the future. It wouldn't be a good look to just be friends with three people, after all.

Laurie was someone he had hit off with well right off the bat. Maybe it was the shared brain cell. Maybe it was something else. Nevertheless, he was a fun person to be around most of the time. Sera, on the other hand, had been surprisingly accomodating despite being tense the first time they met. In the following days, he had managed to snag a few conversations here and there with her and he enjoyed her presence.

He also visited Gwen at the dungeon. Apparently, she had snuck into the operation without permission and was dragged off to "rethink her choices". And things suddenly clicked into place. At the very end of the operation, Sean couldn't find his horse and the culprit was standing before them. After a short argument about his horse and then promptly laughing at her current predicament. Ironic, how the High Priest's daughter was behind bars.

A day before the speech, Sean found himself back with Alyssa. It had been a rough week on her in particular. Sean had learned that she was very close with the rest of their squad and their deaths had shaken her, especially after she was given time to process it. Without anything to distract her, she had adopted a thousand-mile stare. He sat down next to her, joining her in her silent vigil. The heat from the bonfires was almost comforting if the memories of burning bodies weren't etched into their minds. They had spoken their parts— Alyssa's doubts and Sean's reassurances. It was a position Sean didn't think he would be in. He couldn't fully relate to her story, her way of coping, as he hadn't lost anyone important so quickly and so numerously in one day. Still, he tried his best (and got hit a few times to the side for being too much) before they settled down.

Alyssa let out a long sigh. "I assume you're still set in your decision." She said after a moment of silence. "You're going to join the Survey Corps right? They fit your... way of thinking rather well." She seemed to be trying to ease the blow of her statement.

Sean seemed unaffected by it as he nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah. It's been my plan since I joined. It's not like I didn't expect that we'd be facing titans and death." He waved his hand towards the bonfire. "What about you? Are you still going for the Garrison?"

She lifted a shoulder as a shrug. "I don't think I can stomach being in the Scouts like you." She admitted. "Besides, someone has to stay here to help protect the districts while you guys are away. Who knows when the next attack will be on."

Sean nodded in understanding. He had had these conversations back in the Northern division. It wasn't a unique viewpoint to join the safest division (or well, the Military Police had that honor but they were strict in who they let in). He couldn't blame them for seeking the protection of the Walls. "Hah, this'll be goodbye then, huh?"

"Yeah... but I hope this isn't the last time we get to talk, Sean. I'd say stay safe and try to come back home, but that might be wishing for too much."

Sean laughed, wrapping an arm around Alyssa's shoulders and giving her a small squeeze. Far too cheerful for a man walking to a future filled with death. "I'll try my best anyway. But you, you better stay safe."

"I will. For everyone too."

---

Commander Almeras's speech was rather moving. Was it threatening? Yes. Was it so brutally honest that it would probably turn people down from entering the division? Absolutely. Was it the most moving piece of speech he had ever heard? Not really, but it was damn well close to it being number one. They had a chance against their titans and they could directly help with moving humanity forward. Maybe this time, they could go further beyond whatever the previous squads ever got to.

The mere idea was exhilarating!

As most of the cadets moved out, joining the Garrison— or the Military Police if they were higher ranked enough— Sean stood still. This was his plan all along after all. He wanted to join the Survey Corps and the horrors of Trost only boosted his wants to join their ranks.

Sera, ever the brave soul, spoke up. Dedicating her life to the cause. If Sean hadn't known better, he would have laughed and agreed. But, instead, he stood there with a smile on his face. This might not be a long time for him in this world, but it'll certainly be a fun and exciting one.

 

[Colorless Spectrum]

Laurence Arnault

Death. So much of it in such a short span of time. If anything, the happenings of the past week had only solidified his desire to be a part of the Survey Corps. Yes, it was the same goal he set for himself but the purpose had started to shift ever so slightly. He hadn't expected that these new connections and old could take such a hold in his life.

"Look out!" Someone yelled at him as a Titan's hand made its way to him in midair. He pumped up the gas and reeled himself in, missing being swatted by the titan by a hair. He's not keen on being crushed like a mosquito anytime soon. The operation didn't go as smoothly as people initially thought but it was a success all the same. It's not like he expected it to be easy, and his life won't be getting any easier once he officially joins the Survey Corps.

Perhaps the only thing good about that week was the newfound friendship with Sean. There is a similarity between them that can't be denied, perhaps that's what made them click so well. All because he lost his horse, Laurie invited him to ride with him instead. He's also Gwen's friend, which is nice. Good for Gwen to have another friend in the group.

The clean-up was sickening. Too many bodies left unidentified, people in mourning but with nothing to bury. It left his heart heavy, he felt the loss of people just as he lost his mother but this was perhaps far crueler. He anticipated it but he didn't expect to feel this intense, he wondered when will their land be free of the Titans' wrath.

Before the week had ended, he made a visit to Gwen in the dungeons. He told her that she shouldn't be disobeying orders so much unless she likes being in the dungeon. He asked why she went to him during that time the Armored Titan appeared but she went off to different tangents which only confused him, thus never getting an answer. Nonetheless, he sneaked her a steamed potato.

---

It was the most awaited moment. Here standing with the other cadets, in front of the Survey Corps commander. Joining their regiment meant death sooner or later, one way or another. There was a surge of respect that he felt towards Ambrose for being honest. The Survey Corps needed the people the most and to be so brutally honest like this would steer people the other way.

He stood at the very back, watching as the people in front of him shuffled in place and walked away. He had decided, and perhaps his reasons had shifted over the past few years but he stood still. He saw Noah from the corner of his eyes, hesitating on staying or leaving.

He was determined but the expression on his face was that of fear and confusion. Not too far in front of him was Jo standing still infront of the piercing gaze of their soon to be Commander. "She... Isn't supposed to be here."

mention: Arcanist AI10100 . D O V E || interaction:

 

[. D O V E]

Gwen Bulwark​

The psalms of the faithful resounded in the otherwise silent chamber behind the altar. The dawn's soft light permeated the seclusion, painting its walls with muted gold which exposed the scattered crevasses of the aged cement. Clouds of dust and tangles of cobwebs were shrouding each corner, while various vermin were skittering on the feeble floor. Such ugliness was a sign of how it was forsaken.

Yet, Gwen could never tell whether the blight was the abandonment's result or reason.

"Are you paying attention?" A voice severed her from her thoughts, tone gravely calm as the sound of pacing footsteps came to a halt.

The question was merely answered by a close-lipped smile.

"I trust that you are wise enough to. Our subject is much more consequential than whatever thought your mind could ever muster." The figure stepped out of the shadows, revealing himself to be a man of high stature, donning a violet garment that cascaded until his ankles. A golden medallion of the Order of the Wall's crest hanging around his neck.

"Why of course," emerald and amber clashed as their gazes met, "father." Gwen let her hanging legs idly kick as she shifted on her seat on top of a crate. "In fact, allow me to summarize it for us. A dear classmate of mine, who recently discovered that he possesses a titan-shifting ability, was handed off to the Scout Regiment. Now, the most problematic division is in custody of a power greater than any of the holy mothers' could ever imagine and..." One of her swinging foot collided with a can of expired good, the sound of rolling metal resonating until it eventually hit the wall across. "It's a problem."

An amused expression briefly crossed Pastor Bulwark's face before it resettled back to a solemn one. "I'm glad you comprehend the severity of the situation." He sighed before casting his gaze to the door that separated them from the singing masses. It wasn't long before he returned his attention to her, finding the girl deeply engrossed on something on the ceiling. Another sigh escaped his lips, deeper this time. "How goes your mission?"

"It's going well." Came her short response, eyes still fixated above. It became clear that her answer wasn't enough when the room was filled with nothing but permeating hymns for the next minute. "Father...," she called out, loathing the silence, "I must confess something."

"What is it, child?" He asked.

"The truth is I don't want to proceed with my mission any longer." She revealed, one hand reaching out to the spot on the ceiling she had been staring at for the past minutes. "I want to live."

Silence overtook the chamber as the last of her words fell in. Even the chorus outside crescendoed to a stop, Gwen figured it was time for all of them to prostrate in obedience. The gentle taps of shoes hitting the wooden floor pervaded the room as Gwen felt her father approach. Not once shifting her gaze back to him, she felt his cold hand caress her cheek.

"I understand." The ends of Pastor Bulwark's lips curled into a smile, a sight so gentle and so familiar to the Order's faithfuls. Time seemed to pause as the Cathedral's bell echoed, drowning out all other noises. The sound was used to herald the new day, a sign of hope for plenty. But to Gwen, it was nothing but a bad omen.

All of a sudden, the Pastor struck her across the face with his hand, the impact causing her to fall from her seat and onto the hard ground. When she looked at him with empty eyes, she found that he was looming over her with a domineering gaze. "I understand that despite everything I've said, none of them got through your head. What can you not understand, child? A spawn of sin such as you... doesn't deserve to live. You will finish your mission... you must finish your mission... only then will your tainted blood be cleansed of evil..."

Tremors pervaded his voice as she spoke, causing Gwen to recast her sight above. 'Ah, this again.' She thought to herself, looking at a moth trapped in a cobweb.

"Hey, Father." A spider crept to the moth. "I must confess something." The moth struggled.

"...Yes, child?" Its large wings made it difficult to escape the entanglement.

"I've always wanted to tell you." The spider reached the moth, immediately sinking its fangs into its head. As the venom ran its course, the moth fell limp, and the first thing the spider took was its wing. "You hit like a bitch."

The psalms of the faithful once more reached her ears.

---

"You shouldn't keep disobeying orders Gwen, or else you'll get locked up again and again unless you like being locked up in the dungeon."

They were Laurie's words when he visited her in the dungeon. Gwen could only watch his retreating form with slight amusement, the steel bars of her confines cold against one hand while the steamed potato he gave felt warm against the other. It was a hypocritical advice to give someone whom you just broke a rule for.

"Isn't obedience just another form of prison?" She wondered to herself while unwrapping the food he snuck her. She sat at one corner of the cell, silently eating the steamed crop as her mind wandered off to the events that transpired.

"I've heard of soldiers sneaking out of expeditions, but sneaking in? Insane." One of the officers muttered, dragging a bounded Gwen to prison. It was so unfortunate that the Garrison member whom she stole her disguise from and tied up in some tree managed to pluck her out immediately after their return from Trost. "Why in the world did you do that?"

Gwen chuckled, "I was really bored."

He eyed her with disbelief. "You always say that. You're lucky you're alive, and your family can get you out as quickly as possible." He sighed. "Honestly, Bulwark, how many times do I have to drag you to a cell like this? Why don't you just act like a normal human being?"

"Today marks Humanity's first victory against Titans." She randomly blurted out. "But can we really call it that? Don't you think the ones who led the fight has long abandoned their humanities? Even our trump card is a monster. The truth is the world we live in is cruel; in order to survive, we must become something more than human."

Gwen remembered the look the officer shot her afterwards. It was that of dejection, briskly shifting into pity. She laughed at the thought, tossing the wrapper through a space between bars before it landed on the floor - only to be crumbled by the sole of a shoe.

"I came as soon as I heard for one thing and one thing only. Did you steal my horse!?"

The red-haired looked up at her visitor, genuinely caught off guard before her lips broke off into an impish grin.

"When's your release anyway? It better be tomorrow since it's our graduation and it would absolutely suck if you're not there."

"Okay, those are three things. Two questions and one 'I miss you'."

---

The afternoon of the graduation night, an officer finally freed Gwen from her cell. Normally, she wouldn't be in prison for approximately an entire week, but it seemed like her dear father wanted to send a message.

Gwen didn't expect the Commander to be brutally honest in her speech. After all, weren't the Survey Corps interested in garnering more titan fodders? Or was it an attempt at weeding out the feeble hearted? Nonetheless, Gwen was more surprised that a handful of people chose to stay despite everything they've heard. She looked around the remaining graduates, noting a number of familiar faces from both her own training camp and another.

Her eyes found the back of Laurie's head, he seemed to be shocked to see his childhood friend selecting the Scouts. "Ah, well. Looks like it has come down to this." She whispered to herself.

Casting her dull eyes back on the Commander, she kept her lazy salute as the eager recruits shouted their devotion to the cause. She supposed being surrounded by a bunch of suicidal idiots would be entertaining, at least.

Laurie and Sean dialogues from: AI10100 Colorless Spectrum

 

[Arcanist]

Jo Schreiber
Mentions: Raiden (Hal), M Moonlessite (Ambrose), Colorless Spectrum (Laurie) | Interactions: M Moonlessite (Vivi)

(commission by @kalatl!)​

Part of Jo wished she could have followed Hal and fought on the field. It would have allowed her mind some reprieve away from the events that unfolded only mere hours before. Though, a selection of fresh-faced graduates, Sera and Laurie from their division, and Sean and Siegfried from the Northern Division, willingly volunteered to be part of Hal’s effort to seal the wall. The plan that herself, Luka, Hal, and the Commander discussed. In the end, she never saw their plan flower into the eventual success it would become. She should have gone, maybe, to keep an eye on Laurie. She never wanted him to go, but she wasn’t his guardian, only a friend who was beginning to peer through the curtains of the dutiful soldier persona he hid behind.

The trial was a spectacle to behold. Seeing Hal tied up at that post like a wild beast felt dehumanising, no less his comrades, his friends, and the higher-ups observing him as such. She felt uncomfortable even just looking at him so...defenceless. It wasn’t how she remembered him in the years she knew him. And now, here he was, being fought over by the Scouts and the Military Police like a prized pig.

After the recap of Hal’s transformation and subsequent events, the verbal sparring began. Jo had watched Commander Ambrose with intrigue during the exchange. She stood tall, had been well-spoken, and clearly stated the Scouts’ intentions with Hal, even if they were discussing Hal as a thing to be used by humanity. Though, Darius of the Military Police, with his parts of the exchange, was a formidable foe. The more the exchange continued, the more it began to sound like two parents squabbling over custody of their child. Jo’s face had been unmoving, focused on the exchange the entire time.

Her usual stony exterior cracked at the referral to Hal as a ‘monster’. The discomfort that Jo felt earlier only heightened as Darius proclaimed Hal was a danger to humanity, repeating the same Garrison spiel spat at them before. Jo’s fist tightened at the sheer assumption. Hal was an unknown in all of this, yes, but to outright refuse to work with him to better humanity’s cause was baffling to her. Wasn’t this war they were fighting full of risks they had to take?

It was Hal’s words that struck something deep in her. The Military Police were never soldiers. Of course they wouldn’t understand when they look up to the sky and find the same pale walls looking down on them every day. That was the life she would build for herself. Even after Hal’s miscalculated defense, and the offense that it no doubt caused, the trial would continue with one Gil Ackerman’s involvement.

Jo had heard plenty of things about Gil, as plenty of others did. What had happened to his family was beyond tragic. The Fall of Shiganshina spared little, and what few it had did not leave them unscathed. Gil had been one of those deeply affected by Shiganshina, there had been no doubt in that. But in watching how he behaved in this courtroom - most especially belting Hal with a bottle, stamping on him and abusing him like that - left a bad taste in her mouth. Gil’s brazen attitude, his penchant for turning to the bottle and acting in such a manner, was one Jo did not appreciate. And it showed in the disapproval that darkened in her expression.

But it was that behaviour that would earn them the custody of Hal. Gil’s outburst had been a display of control, the ability to handle Hal should the worst happen. As the motion passed that the Scouts would take Hal, part of her was relieved. She felt uneasy wondering what the MPs would have done had he been handed over to them.

And her previous resolution of joining them wavered as a result.


Jo did not return home to her family. There was a strange guilt in her she could not shake, how she could go home to them, whereas those like Anke lay in the graveyard Trost had become. She would pen a letter at a later date to let them know she was okay, that she had survived, but she felt an obligation to stay for the vigils.

Gathering the bodies took quite some time. Jo had volunteered with the effort of clean-up, at first, believing it was simply part of her job, and that she owed it to the fallen. Though, perhaps that was guilt making its home in her chest. Surviving didn’t bring much relief.
c
Many couldn’t be identified. Names were long lost among the ashes left behind by the burning pyres. Anke. Jericho. Lena. They were a few of the names that stood out in Jo’s mind. She wasn’t the one to find them, and part of her was thankful, and guilty, that she hadn’t. Maybe then she would have had that closure. Part of Jo expected to see them as she walked through the streets, or step beside her as the fires grew. Something about their deaths felt unreal, a strange concept to piece together in her mind.

It was like they were still here and she hadn’t seen them for a very long time.

But they weren’t. She knew that. She plagued herself with the idea that maybe if she had been a more attentive leader, if she had adopted a different tactic out on the field, maybe her comrades wouldn’t have run off. Maybe Jericho would still be alive.

Jo took off her glasses, sunk to a crouch on the ground. She should have known better than to think things would stay the same. She brought her hands up to her eyes, trying not to weep like so many she had watched do already. ‘You’re a soldier,’ Jo reminded herself in between silent weeps. ‘You’re a soldier. Act like it.’ Would a soldier join the Military Police? Would a soldier accept their lot behind a Wall? Sweat caused by the growing fires threatened to mingle with the tears she shed. Her stony visage cracked into dozens of pieces as she let herself weep openly.

She knew this would be difficult. But never this difficult.

-

Joanna felt like a ghost. Pale, hovering, unnoticed among the same dulled faces. They hadn’t even been through the worst of it, she knew that. Trost was only the beginning of a long - or rather short - line of trauma and tragedy. It was guaranteed with the Scouts. With the Garrison, perhaps less so, if they could keep the wave of Titans back, but she doubted it. She wondered how peaceful joining the Military Police really could be.
The Commander didn’t try to pull the wool over any of their eyes nor speak with the same enthusiasm as other regiments had raved with. No glory or renown. No discrimination when it came to a Titan chowing down on you. Half of them would be dead by the next summer. Jo swallowed at the viciousness of her words, the horrible reality of it all. That was enough to deter people, to weed out those unsuitable to join the Scouts.

But something stirred in her as Ambrose spoke of hope. How Hal had risked his life to give Paradis back the fire they needed to fight back. Jo straightened up, more attentive to those words than before. How could Jo sit behind Wall Sina, knowing that her comrades would be on the outside, looking to expand humanity’s knowledge of the Titans, of their situation? Though, she stilled at Ambrose’s question.

‘Am I willing to sacrifice myself for humanity?’

“Joanna, please. Please, I don’t want you to die. You don’t have to do this for us.”

Jo’s nose wrinkled at her mother’s words. She had to remember why she enlisted in the first place. For them. She had to for her mother, for Danner and Frederick, for the mistakes her father made. It was a tug of war between regiments.

Soldiers, impatient, turned and walked away after the Commander finished her speech. Others shifted from one foot to the other, unsure, before deciding with a heavy sigh of relief to leave. People congregated in flocks away from the platform, some throwing stares over the idiots who decided to stay and risk their lives for a victory that would never be guaranteed. She was guaranteed a full life inside Wall Sina. She could finish all that hardship. Jo swallowed, eyeing those who emigrated. Was that why she stayed? Had she become so accustomed to hardship, drunk on optimism, that the thought of a long and full life had sickened her?

She caught the bewildered stares of those who had passed her, the ones she had so confidently assured that she would join the Military Police. The weight of expectation tugged at her, tempted her to follow the droves who would not be joining the Scout Regiment. Jo had been tempted to follow. Part of her wanted to follow while she tried to loosen up her frozen form.

Jo caught the narrow-eyed stare of Vivian, who stopped some distance among the departing. Jo watched Vivi’s expectant stare as if asking, ‘Are you coming?’ The redhead held that stare, perhaps a little longer than needed. She needed to decide. She could not waver along the border of her decision anymore. After a moment, Jo gave a slight shake of her head, a hint of an apology on her thinned lips. There was something impassive in Vivi’s face, something that Jo couldn’t quite read, before she turned, and walked away too.

Jo watched her walk away. She shouldn’t have been surprised at her decision. She didn’t blame her nor judge her for leaving. Vivian had to look out for herself, just as Jo had to do what was right for her. Even if she wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do. But still, she continued to stand there, keeping her gaze forward, trying not to think of the consequences.

All the while, she tried not to give in to the stare of Laurie behind her. She had seen him earlier, one of the few determined faces in the crowd. Ever since they had sealed the Wall, Jo hadn’t spoken to him. She could already feel the confusion in that stare behind her head, something boiling underneath the surface. She had to stand resolute in her decision. Act like she was sure of this. Act as if joining the Scouts did not make her heart hammer against the confines of her chest.

 

[ShadyLady]

Mentions: Raiden (Hal and Luka), M Moonlessite (Elke)
​

Ever since Nina’s first mission, there was always a sense of doom that clung to her existence. Draped like a robe, covering her from head to toe. The colour changes rather frequently, almost like an aura. Sometimes it’s blue, other times it’s orange. Lately, it’s been a deep purple, akin to that of a bruised fruit, not of a wound she’d find seared into her skin. Just a subtle ache, a pain hard to place other than in the general direction of her chest, occasionally dropping down to her stomach. Dread. It often catches in the back of her throat, a rising bile begging to be spewed up to spare her from the prolonged nausea, but all Nina was ever left with was dry retches, and her own sickened qualms.

After Halvor had saved the day and humanity celebrated, she was sent to help with the masses of dead during Trost’s cleanup, recalling the fallen and marking the names of the few recognisable down. Her unease settled, staining her skin and seeping into her bones. Was she supposed to be happy she wasn't among them? Sad for them, that in the grand scheme of things, their lives had ultimately amounted to nothing? A deprecating smile warped her once stony face, a pained laugh bubbling like blood from her lips. Nina had to laugh or else she would cry, even if the former was insurmountably worse.

There was always a silver lining, she supposed. Her squad had made it, unscathed for the most part to her short lived relief. As for some of the others, they were less fortunate. Nina didn’t know what to say to those grieving, to Elke or Luka who’d lost some of those most important to them, to anyone who’d lost someone. She couldn’t uphold her cheery front. A hollow, brittle smile and empty eyes failed to be particularly comforting anyways. So she stayed away, choosing to keep to herself as the gravity of everything sunk in.

Was it too late to leave?

Yes. It shouldn't have even been a question. After everything she’d seen there was never an out.

In her quiet despondence, Nina couldn't help but revisit her childhood memories like a tongue to a missing tooth. She could not crawl back into that gap even if she wanted to. There was no room there anymore. She was no longer a child with spare teeth to grow, that space would remain empty forever.

Still, everything seemed far simpler back then, in those days reminiscent of a kinder winter. She regretted taking it for granted.

꧁꧂​

Standing amongst the other cadets offered her no solace. There were cracks scattered throughout their midst. At least Commander Almeras knew how to get straight to the point, no sugar coating forced in a poor attempt to coddle potential scouts. Her tone, the sharpness of her words, cut through everything nearby. It was a bold approach to take, refusing to take advantage of any childish dreams that may have still lingered even after the crushing aftermath of Trost. Respect bristled within Nina, the redhead's resolve had already straightened itself out before the ceremony, but Almeras had solidified it. Her time brooding had led her to the resolute decision that there wasn’t much of a life to be had spent hiding behind walls. If she were to die, let it be on the battlefield fighting for something.

With the Commander's speech concluding, it didn’t take long for people to begin weeding themselves out. The gathered crowd dispersed, and whilst the majority opted to choose the safer options of the Garrison, or Military Police if eligible, Nina was surprised to see those who remained. Maybe they were foolish, or had a death wish. For even joining, Nina considered herself eligible for both, but she didn’t doubt their tenacity or her own, considering how daunting their future prospects were undoubtedly fated to be.

 

[Danidify]

ELYSE HILDEBRAND​

When terror strikes, it is often fate’s courtesy to grant a moment of silence following tragedy’s ever-so-kind departure. Peace and quiet is usually welcomed wholeheartedly, for it beckons a time to process; to learn and rebuild. But this ‘calm after the storm’ was anything but calm. If anything, it was more mind-boggling than the chaos that had gone before it. There was much to be processed, after all. Too much for so little time.

Conflicted murmurs skittered around like mice, sheltering in unseen places once the voices of authority raised over the crowd. Among the cadets stood Elyse Hildebrand, shoulder to shoulder with comrades she still couldn’t fully bear to look in the eyes. Instead, her attention was aimed forward, manifesting as a fleeting gaze painted in a sense of painful detachment.

Given the importance of the occasion, the shaken cadet had made attempts to look a bit more.. lively, but one needn’t even focus to see the girl wasn’t in good shape. Elyse had fallen ill ever since the ‘clean-up’, leaving her with a sickly white glow and a fragile, nauseated expression that no hairstyle or accessory could distract from. Funny how the battle had been victorious, yet she’d felt nothing but defeated once they roamed the red-stained streets. Those harrowing images, that putrid scent, those broken faces, they would never leave her mind.

Among all the hurt, Survivor’s guilt was the knife that carved the sharpest wound. Many soldiers valiantly fought to protect citizens and friends alike. Meanwhile, she was left cowering in fear, preoccupied with ideated plans of simply running away. No matter where she was, one question overrode all others: Why, of all people, did she have the right to survive? Time and a certain smack in the face had taught her that it didn’t matter whether she deserved to live. Rather, it was the fact she had people looking out for her, ones that cared enough to put their own life on the line. Reminiscing about her companions kept the sadness and fear at bay, but it failed to waver her most anxious conviction: she would never go back to the Military.

Then the trip home happened, and certainties grew less certain.

It was a warm welcome, surprisingly so. Elyse had never expected to not be berated for her failure, let alone be embraced in hugs and smiles. Reciprocating all that love was difficult at first, especially given the jaded feelings that had built up over the years. Yet when her grandmother stood at the door with her arms open, there was little malice to be mustered. She felt safe and loved that day, which made it all the worse once the harsh realizations set in.

What followed after a day of peace was likely the most enlightening moment of her life. The realizations she had that day made for a rude and painful awakening, but it was a long time coming. The details of what was said were not important right now, however. They would find a day to come to light, to be processed properly. For now, she would move on, finally letting go of the roots that had tied her down for so long.

As Ambrose’s speech progressed, Elyse’s heart raced nearly as fast as it had during battle. Thoughts chaotically overlapped and competed as the Commander spoke her death-ridden tale, but when it came to that one pivotal end, her mind sporadically quieted down. All those uncertain trails finally saw the right path and coalesced, together beaconing a sensation quite novel to the brunette: conviction.

Was she willing to sacrifice herself for humanity? No, not really. The past week hadn’t magically blessed her with a sense of duty to humankind, nor had it alleviated her still very crippling fear of death. If it hadn’t been clear thus far, Elyse had no intent to become a hero, martyr or anything of the sort. What she wanted was simple: freedom and inner peace. She wasn’t fighting to die, she was fleeing to live.

Joining the scouts would be the first decision that would unequivocally, wholeheartedly belong to her. No family to choose her purpose, no friends to meddle the results, just her own thoughts, however uncharacteristically stupid and reckless they may be. It would make the first moment she could truly feel autonomous, fulfilling a purpose that she chose. That sense of liberation was powerful- addicting even, enough so for her to make a decision that was unexpected, to say the least.

There were other factors that came into play, of course. For one, Elyse still felt like she had to prove herself, no longer to her own family, but to the people that had been there for her. She still wasn’t sure how she would ever repay Leon, Nina and Hal for saving her life that day, or what she could possibly do to thank Ramiel for years of companionship. This seemed like a good start, though.

And so, as many other recruits stepped aside, the young Hildebrand stayed. Her body trembled in fear, aching to shut down as usual, but she didn’t lose control this time. Her feet were planted firmly where she wanted them to be- not frozen, but steadfast.

BRIEF MENTIONS: lion. (Ramiel) Castello (Leon), ShadyLady (Nina), Raiden (Hal). ​

 

[SpookyBones]

Interactions: M Moonlessite (Vivian)
Mentions: Colorless Spectrum (Laurie), AI10100 (Sean), The Prophet (Siegfried) Raiden (Hal) ​

In what could only be described as a miracle, Commander Haas had shown up right when the Garrison officers had seemed to accept their status as future murderers. Relief flooded over him once more as his legs threatened to melt into the ground from sheer exhaustion. Once the Commander had begun discussing plans with Hal and Jo, he had ushered Vivian and Milo to vacate the premises and suddenly Milo found himself at a loss as to what he should do next. The fighting had stopped, for now, and all that remained were ashes and fragments of grieving broken hearts now scattered across Trost. His pace was gentle, keeping his eyes fixated on the ground in fear of meeting the glazed eyes of the bodies that were sporadically sprawled out across the streets.

Milo was unpleasantly aware of Vivian’s lingering presence and though his mind felt viscous and shrouded in a veil of fatigue, he was grateful that he could be distracted from his own sombre thoughts if only for a moment.

"It's hard to believe we actually survived all of this."

A nervous chuckle escaped him as he pondered her words. It was undeniably true. Guilt churned in his chest when he truly acknowledged that without the valiance of the other soldiers he’d been stationed with throughout the day, Milo would’ve died at least 3 times over. Was he really that much of a burden? That much of a liability in a team? God he needed to get a hold of himself. No more rooftop meltdowns from this day forth.

“You couldn’t be more correct. Without Hal’s intervention we would’ve been swarmed and overwhelmed by the Titans, and yeah most likely, everyone you’ve grown to love would’ve died.” Milo deadpanned with little energy left for any empathy. The pair seemed to have reached a relatively unoccupied area and so he stopped in his tracks, his lower back aching and grating on him more than it should’ve, choosing to rest atop some crates. Only then did he search for her gaze and offer an afterthought, “Though if it's any consolation, I’m glad you didn’t die. That way, I can get to know you first and suffer the consequences later.”

Milo’s dry tone was extremely relatable. It was like Vivian could feel the sheer tiredness that radiated from him, and that realization only amplified her own exhaustion. A heavy sigh left her lips as she leaned against the same crates that Milo sat on, crossing her arms over her chest. Her gaze settled on a random pebble not too far from where she stood and began to zone out when her companion spoke up again. The corner of her lips twitched slightly as she met his gaze. “How sweet. I’m glad you didn’t die, either,” she answered, albeit a bit sarcastically. “You must've done something right if you survived that hellhole back there. That, or you were extremely lucky. Maybe a mix of both.”

Vivian’s regards on his death, or lack thereof, allowed him to release a genuine chuckle. It felt as though she had trickled water over his brain, allowing some of the grime to crack and slip away. This moment was ruined abruptly by sharp pains snaking his ribs. He answered her earnestly, “Quite the mix of both to be perfectly honest. Believe me, if it weren’t for that little redhead, they’d be sending my body back North.” Milo shrugged, squinting as he faced the sky and pondering on his thoughts. “I am my own worst enemy after all.” He ruffled his hair to move some loose strands away from his eyes and let out a deep sigh. “What’s important is that we both lived. Tomorrow we can wake up and repeat this shit all over again and expect a different outcome,” he smiled a little to himself, “that’s the definition of insanity you know, right?”

At Milo’s reply, Vivian allowed a wry smile to cross her lips. The boy knew his limits. That, and he wasn’t stupid enough to think he survived all of this by himself. “Yeah… you’re right,” she replied. It was a miracle that both of them lived– hell, it was a miracle that many of the people that she knew survived Trost overall. When she saw familiar faces roaming the streets– Laurie, Luka, Ramiel – she a wave of relief washed over her. If they had died…

“... I’m not joining the Survey Corps. Never planned to. And after all of this?” She nodded off in the distance where the rest of the crippled city laid. “Only idiots would leave the walls after what they’ve been through here.”

“Coward.” Milo responded genuinely, with enough of a playful tone to not completely deter Vivian from their conversation. “Besides, someone has to do it, if not us then the next bundle of naive kids. Our families, sisters, brothers…” Milo’s thoughts drifted away momentarily. Looking at what remained of Trost, who was he to blame anyone for shielding themselves from the perpetual nightmare that was their existence.

“I may be an idiot for continuing even after today’s carnage, but I made a promise to someone that I’d make them proud.” Milo began fidgeting uncomfortably with his fingertips, choosing to strike a match to divert his attention briefly. Looking to direct the conversation back to Vivian he started again. “So which is it then? Garrison or Military Police?” He mused aloud, curious of her future intentions if they were going separate ways after their encounter.

He was right. She was a coward, wasn’t she? If she really cared for them, why didn’t she just join the Scouts to help keep watch over the weak links? To keep watch over Hal? The thought stirred a painful feeling in the deepest, darkest corner of her chest, and she found herself grinding her teeth together at his comments. What was it? Fear, pity? For others, or for herself?

“... Military Police. I didn’t bust my ass to be in the top ten for nothing,” she answered him after she swallowed the sour taste in her mouth. “I’m telling you now, though. You won’t make that special someone proud when you’re getting chewed on by a Titan or trudging around without a leg or arm. Best to put those skills of yours to actual use and make them proud in another way. You’re worth nothing dead, after all.”

It was then that she turned completely towards him. Her gaze was fierce, and her lips were curled downwards in a stern manner. “Just looking out for you, that’s all.”

Milo scoffed, a putrid feeling rising within him, one he knew all too well but struggled to understand. Between guilt, anger, and despair, reality checks often sent his emotions awry. His breath caught in his throat, forming an invisible lump that seemed impossible to quell. “Maybe you’re right, maybe I won't make them proud. But that's all I have.” Milo blinked rapidly to stop the tears from pricking at the corners of his eyes. Though she may have been sincere, he couldn’t stop himself from biting back. “Thanks for your concern, Vivian. Except I’m worth nothing alive, so it makes no difference if I die.” Malice shone through in his tone, though it was directed more at himself than Vivi.

Milo swiped the back of his hand across his eyes and averted her gaze, a few simple tears staining his cheeks atop streaks that had dried not so long ago. He slowly rose from where they sat and began to walk away. Halting in his tracks with his back toward Vivian he heaved a deep sigh, his shoulders relaxing slightly. Milo looked back over his shoulder, half intent on offering some form of explanation but the ache in his chest told him that could wait for another day. “Take care of yourself.”

____________________________________________________________________________
​

The days that followed Trost seemed motionless, like Milo was suspended in a fragment of time altogether separate from his life before. Bodies moving round him that seemed like hollow shells, practically translucent. Could they see through him too? At times he felt more and more like a hollow shell of the person he once was. He was strangely numb after all he witnessed that day, close to shutting down. Laurie had been kind enough to check on him several times, often finding Milo keeping to himself as much as possible. Granted, Laurie saved his life during Trost, so maybe he just felt obligated to keep an eye on him; though of all those in the South he seemed the most genuine.

Milo reflected that he’d barely been in the Southern Division for a fortnight and yet he’d experienced more tragedy than he had in a very long time, not to mention grazing with death at least three or four times. There had always been someone there to save him, even though they had no attachment to him. He put it down to basic human decency though he hoped it meant there were companions worth making here after all. Whilst the North was where he belonged at heart, where he had some form of a place amongst his friends, the faces and the streets tormented him. Milo didn’t doubt that it lingered in the shadows, waiting for him here.

Finding Sean during clean-up, and later being reunited with Siegfried in a reunion that was all too awkward with one too many tears, seemed to change things a little. Loose stitches of Milo’s heart tugged at one another, pulling taut to find their place again. They reminded him of what this was all for, a better future, a world where they could all live in 5 fucking minutes of peace. Hal’s trial verdict dictated everyone’s future, having him allocated to the Survey Corps provided a long forgotten sense of hope, provided endless opportunities - so long as he continued to cooperate.

_____________________________________________________________________________________
​

So this is what it all came down to? Years of training led to one decision.

More than anything Milo kept his eyes on Sean and Siegfried to see if they would waver in their stance. He would join the Survey Corps regardless, but it didn’t stop the gnawing at his heart, the inert urge to protect himself at all costs despite the promises he’d made. It was Commander Almeras’ words that solidified his resolve, there was no useless sugar coating, no sickly lie to be told. Half of us will be dead in a year. It was a bitter truth, one that was undeniably hard to stomach almost as if swallowing nails. To Milo, it seemed as though there was no future for him that didn’t depict him adorning wings on his back. Some invisible force lured him there, ever since he first joined the scouts. Maybe it was naive of him to so recklessly cling onto a slither of purpose, but who would he be without that drive, what would he do if he wasn’t fighting for the approval that he could never gain.

Watching countless scouts swallow their grief and turn to leave stirred pity within Milo, Vivian was right realistically, they would be useless dead after all. It was a reasonable choice, one that Milo half envied, a path he half wished that he and his friends could take, spare himself more grief. But not once did his knees shake beneath him as he stood in the ever dwindling crowd. He would stay till the bitter end.

 

[lion.]

​

Ramiel Diakos

In the night, fawned with a lonely mistress moon, there marshals a prepossessing crowd of short jackets and rugged trousers standing on a frowning ground of bedrock. A long accumulation of training had matured it: his posture. There was no error in his crucifix-straight stance, elbows mirthlessly harrowed behind his back. Peaking like violences, like secrets, like the malignant lies and covers of deception, the fires continued to light on. Ventured out to the side of the congregation of recruits, Ramiel’s own eyes watered as the heat and skulking smoke blew.

Commander Almeras kept the order alive; her voice was inland of darkness, though her ideas wharfed each other like a rolling dice, an even for strength and an oddity for a mention of sacrifice.

Ramiel was listening, as something all ears were meant to fulfill, but he found himself meditative- closing out his eyes. His action laden with tranquility appeared to be searching to find those specific memories, the type that were like the last vestiges of leaves holding out on a dry branch.

A reason to join the Scouts.

He liked to fish.

His eldest brother and him often sat at the margin of a freshwater riverbank where the low shores textured the mud. Affixed with an unstained white gleam, the water had always given an optical effect of something wondrous even if the mosquitos bit and the sprouted tussocks of grass itched. When the sun had just begun to bond southwards, a hook would be slung out on a slim string.

Ramiel judged that it never was the same after he had sat at a deal table with the Hildebrands, yet he still did it. He went fishing.

He had done it often during the days within the week of the trial, when Elyse and him had visited the family.

“It’s sad,” Ramiel remembered mourning, as he unhooked the thrashing small bass that was hungrily raging, continuing to swish in his hands, with a cranium eager to breach the bounds of nature. But, a second later, it fell into the volume of a bucket and eventually the suffocation and flapping came to a stop.

He had remembered his eldest brother emanating with a ripple of laughter over a previously mentioned homespun joke. Changing directions of conversation, he had turned to Ramiel to say, “Do you ever think it’s not up to the fisher to catch fish? That it’s up to the bait itself?”

“What do you mean?” Ramiel had replied, with an aphoristic expression.

“Do you think it talks to the fish down there? Shooes them away or calls them closer?” had projected his brother, fiercely blinking in the fevered sun as the straw hat groomed back over his fringed hair. Sighingly wiping at his forehead, he had asked, “Is that why we wait for so long for a catch-”

“But, why would it tell it to come closer? It’ll end up dying faster if it does that.” Went on, Ramiel.

For a time, the incident traded away to the lasting speech of Ambrose, her imperative lips contorting to a warded line. With a recrudescence of their last battle, Ramiel was already beginning to vigilantly stir. It was unlikely to be a surprise when his footsteps which had been locked and still to the ground lifted with alacrity. He was implored to turn his back.

He was mated with the devil. It was his selfishness that hung his neck from swallowing down his objection as to why he of all people should and would become a carcass. Pride was undersized like everything else in his life. He could abandon it all:the machinery, the objectless rails of morality, and the shells of gunned close friendships. He’d look rather handsome in a military police uniform with the brown wing collars glorifying the golden ink of his eyes.

One step at a time, and he was pacing away despondently with the ticking blade on his wrist watch.

All the memories from the first day, from the celebration..with Milo, with Jericho, with…Elyse…

“The bait dies either way,” his brother had said reflectively, “It’s all about how it wants to die. In the end, hasn’t it always been about that? Life between predator and prey.”

So, it came to be that Ramiel Diakos was on a hook too, between Mr.Hildebrand, between his allies, and between his foes. It was with simplified composure that this occurred to him with agitation. The man rotating the wand of the fishing pole was none other than Mr.Hildebrand. The one who could retract him back and throw him forward again with just a few indifferent words was him.

Now, it was becoming scientifically intriguing. When they had gone back, the older man looked at him differently than before. But, he had also looked at his daughter differently.

Maybe that’s why his eyes wandered to Elyse through the crowd. Was she still standing there? Or the Vinter twin that lived?

A neglected hand of seconds of walking was reversed when he came to a hard stomp against the ground because something about being fish bait was so pathetic that he had to stay.

 

[KaramelKarma]

[click on the image for the post]
​

• aa
• aa

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  alfred

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  "man, monster, or miracle?"

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  alfie's theme

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  miner's lament

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  "The Tragedy of Trost."
  
  Mm. "No, not quite."
  
  "Ah! The Tragedy at Trost?"
  
  At this, a low, grumbling could be heard, followed by a great exhale. Alfie nodded decisively, agreeing. "You're right. 'At' doesn't seem to fit it quite right either."
  Sighing, he crossed it out and crumpled the paper, tossing it onto the pile. The tip of the feathered pen touched his lips as Alfie struggled to gather his thoughts, staring at the cacophony of numbers and words mixing and melting on the floor. The myriad of candles surrounding him on the ground flickered almost in unison. It's simply too much, Alfred.
  "No, no, no. I've nearly got it!" he whispered back indignantly. "Someone has got to chronicle what happened. Someone has got to commit what one has seen with their own eyes to paper. I refuse to let this opportunity pass me by, not while the memory is still fresh." Alfie's fingers strummed absent-mindedly against the ugly gashes on his right arm, a testament to his efforts during the invasion in Trost. If he could, he would have relived the whole battle just to witness that moment one more time. That absolutely glorious and terrifying moment of transformation, when the skies had darkened underneath their very heads, only to come back alive once more in a pandemonium of lightning and smoke.
  
  And by the Walls, was he beautiful.
  
  Indeed, an utter masterpiece of muscle and sinew and raw power. The kind of power that needed to be refined and polished, honed to the best it could be, so that a hundred more Titans could fall and hundred more breaches could never happen. Alfie could barely concentrate in the days and weeks following Trost. At the time of trial, Alfred had flooded the judge's desk with letters, explaining the boy Halvor Verdende's strategic importance and utility for humanity in hopes of turning the tides. Nights were lost in flickering candlelight, furiously writing away all the observations and newfound theories the young Scout researcher had boiling in his mind since the battle. This was not his official duty of course; in truth, Alfie was assigned by Ambrose to keep record of the casualties and wounded, not to deviate and create what was essentially an 'epic' saga of sorts.
  
  Knock, knock.
  
  Oh, speak of the devil.
  
  "Come in," Alfie called over his shoulder. The door opened and out poked a head nervously. It was none other than Sage, one of the fledging Scouts. She was only a year into her official job and it showed, despite the headstrong girl's attempts to show no weakness. Sage approached the senior Scout.
  "How many more this time?"
  "We did as you asked, sir," Sage replied, trying to remain stoic. "W-we found an additional hundred and three casualties. Three hundred and seventy-five more listed as wounded. More than half belonged to the Garrison force."
  Alfie nodded, recording the numbers down, ignoring the girl's bewildered eye as she caught sight of the burned skin decorating half of Alfie's face and arm. The pen finally stopped its scrawl. "Bringing us to a total of two hundred and seven missing in action or dead, and eight hundred ninety-seven wounded in battle."
  "Yes sir," Sage answered, but Alfie barely heard her. His gaze aimed straight forward, an unreadable expression on his burn-marked face.
  
  "Did you hear that?" he whispered as he rose from his seated position on the ground, ignoring all except the great, lumbering mass chained mere feet away. Gently, long, calloused hands began to caress the great expanse of skin. "Why didn't you like it, hm?" he murmured, keeping his voice low as he talked, crouching back on his knees. "The title: Tragedy of Trost. It was a tragedy, was it not? You heard it; hundreds of lives lost to you and your kind. Mothers ripped away from daughters, fathers from sons, sister from brother, cousin from cousin. Suffering from all sides, as usual."
  "S-sir-" interjected Sage, stiffening as the creature shifted and emitted a low bellow before quieting down once more. "Sir," she tried again. "I was also instructed to inform you that the graduation ceremony has just begun. Commander Ambrose would like you to attend."
  Alfie turned his head halfway to address the younger Scout, nodding his head at her message before gesturing her dismissal. "Man versus the monster," he murmured, eyeing Sage's retreating figure. "That's all she'll ever see it as. That's all they'll ever see it as."
  
  The candles flickered once more in unison.
  To see otherwise would mean death.
  "No," Alfie straightened, adjusting the candlestick around his neck. "To see otherwise would mean freedom."
  ____________________________________________________
  
  Tsk. You should have changed into something more presentable.
  Alfie cast an eye down to the rest of his person, noticing for the first time the various ink splotches, basement dust and grime spots and wrinkled Scouts military jacket. The only thing that remained all white and pristine was his trusty candlestick.
  "No need to get your wax all up in a twist, Maria," he answered in a hushed tone good-naturedly. "It's not like better clothing will change the outcome of what happens tonight."
  The candlestick remained silent, though the senior Scout did not doubt for a second that Maria was still beside herself. After years of being together surrounded by dirt, filth and stone, it was only natural for her to wish that after having come so far from the mines, Alfie would for once be in mint condition when he received his promotion from Scout to Squad Leader.
  Gil was half-drunk when he got promoted, Alfie thought, a faint smile on his face as he continued to watch the ceremony. He spotted the roguish country man on stage, standing next to Ambrose as she began to deliver her speech.
  The message was anything but hopeful or in the least appealing to hear, but that was what made Ambrose the best to lead the Scouts. If the words did not cut the saplings down to size, then like overgrown weeds, they would be rooted out and destroyed by forces impossibly bigger than they. As was his habit, Alfie was not content in just focusing on the single figure on stage; his eye wandered and would lock onto a target, observing their reactions.
  It was clear that Trost was on every mind. Every face had a beautiful anguish to it, an internal struggle that lined itself in every crease of skin and every tear in the eyes. The breach, the invasion, the retaking and sealing of the Wall was an unprecedented first victory for humanity and yet, defeat still permeated the air. What's more, a sense of foreboding filled the area, hanging over every shoulder like the devil himself. It was as if every graduate was signing off their own death warrant and the only ones that could breathe easy were the few lucky enough to be selected in the Top Ten.
  The Retaking of Trost, he thought. No; it did not encapsulate enough; not the violence, the loss, the epic turning of tides, the valiant and violent effort of each and every military member. Finally, it hit him.
  The Struggle for Trost.
  
  Alfie smiled, remembering the motions of choosing what branch to die in all too well. Nevertheless, he could not help but envy this generation as his gaze landed on one very particular individual, cut off from the rest and surrounded by an unusual large amount of officers.
  How lucky they are, he thought with a beam in his oak brown eyes. To graduate on the brink of a whole new world.
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

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  The graduation ceremony hall

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  N/A

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  ➸ M Moonlessite (Elke Vinter/Vivian Schweiss/Ambrose Almeras)
  
  ➸ Raiden (Luka Soroka/Halvor Verdende) | Arcanist (Jo Schreiber)
  
  ➸ Colorless Spectrum (Laurence Arnault)
  
  ➸ . D O V E (Gwen Bulwark)
  
  ➸ The Prophet (Siegfried J.L)
  
  ➸ AI10100 (Sean Seidel)
  
  ➸ Castello (Leon Monar)
  
  ➸ lion. (Ramiel Diakos)
  
  ➸ ShadyLady (Nina Polgar)
  
  ➸ homintales (Sera Mayer)
  
  ➸ SpookyBones (Milo Sauer)
  
  ➸ Danidify (Elyse Hildebrand)

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

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𓀁

𓀁

𓀁

𓀁

𓀁

nine lives

 

[Raiden]

Interactions: Colorless Spectrum (Laurie), All Acquaintances
Mentions: M Moonlessite (Elke, Vivian, Ambrose), Castello (Leon), Arcanist (Jo a.k.a Specs), ShadyLady (Nina), Danidify (Elyse), . D O V E (Wall cult gworl)​

The mundane day-to-day of being confined to a new set of walls that dragged on for the first week would have bothered Hal much less if he didn't feel like a prisoner to military and mind. Time had slowed to a crawl since then, and the soldier had been left with constant nagging at his conscience. He couldn't save them all; people died for him when it should have been the other way around. There was nothing he could've done differently that would've spared them death's embrace, and even after humanity's first triumph against the Titans, he was still unsatisfied. It was a dark place to be trapped in the cycle of should-haves and what-ifs, to gaze at the mirror into the eyes of a reflection they called savior and monster.

A quaint little cell had been his new temporary home until the induction ceremony, but Hal could foresee many future instances where his holding place would be something similar, even after earning the full trust of the Survey Corps. It wasn't the comfortable lodging that a barracks provided, but it also wasn't the squalor of a cell fit for criminals; nay, all of the doomsayers had insisted that it was of utmost importance to keep their little Titan appeased so as to not wreak havoc. "Titan," the magic word bounced to and fro within the expanse of his mind as Hal pondered onward. The back of his head laid upon a wrist, the other open palm draped across his chest as his eyes squinted at the faint draw of torchlight that peered through the iron bars. Where one mystery lay came another as deviant as the 'someone' from the mirror that he'd seen before deploying to combat. "Just what the hell am I?" he vocalized the selfsame question, turning onto his side and craning his fingers against the back of his neck.

Being scarcely afforded the contact with his comrades and forced to abstain from the last vigil for the dead of Trost, Hal's frustration with unknowing were amplified in isolation. The obituaries of the names that weighed more than the faceless crowd had only been made known to him recently; to learn of those deaths mere hours before the induction ceremony wounded him. A wince of irritation plastered on his face as he felt for Elke and Luka, aching for the trauma that they must have endured without him. That each of his friends had to suffer through as he had come far too late and inopportune. Laurie, Leon, Specs, Nina, Elyse; even Gwen and Vivian, as indisposed as he may have been towards them.

An answer to the question had finally dawned on him. "I'm," his voice shook momentarily before affirming itself. "No, we are their legacy," Hal nodded to himself as he glanced towards the wall opposite of him. The military had been gracious enough to at least provide him with a dartboard to help pass the time, and he often obliged to a match against himself. Taking one of the darts from the cupboard at his bedside, the soldier sat upright and took a second to line up his sight before letting the dart loose, pinning itself against one of the red triple rings. With this power of mine.

Hal settled into a form-fitting dark shirt and wore one arm in his uniform jacket, rising to greet his reflection in the mirror once again. The outerwear wrapped close to his frame as he began to adjust the smaller details of his uniform down to the individual button, a surprised huff passing his lips when the sound of an object meeting the stone at his feet echoed through the cell block. Looking down, it was his pocket watch that had come loose from the clutch of his inner jacket; after all these years, it was his only true relic of the past, and one that somehow remained unstained by the blood and sweat of a turbulent life. He clasped the keepsake in one palm and went to fix the time that its hands displayed, clicking his tongue at the difficulty and resistance that the winding crown always put up when he had to adjust the proper time.

"It's time, Hal," a sharp whistle shot out from the end of the hallway, preceding footsteps that were presumably from his designated sentry. So it is. Giving the watch one last gander, he pocketed the object before turning away from the mirror.

☆☆☆☆☆​

Dim firelight coalesced a faint glow over his features as Hal was now turned towards the stage of the induction ceremony. He had managed to escape the vice grip of that quirky fellow from the Survey Corps to mingle with the crowd that was the debacle for tonight, having offered the lot of his comrades in the 104th Training Corps an acknowledging gesture. He had even tossed a not-so-gentle punch into the back of Laurie's shoulder when he passed by the longer-haired soldier at the very back, though he could see the woeful sentiment duplicated among each face in the crowd. Even as droves of nameless faces dispersed at the conclusion of Commander Almeras' grim reality of a recruitment drive, many of those crestfallen warriors remained. Some, like Specs, came to him at a genuine shock, as he'd assumed that they'd have absolutely gone for the Military Police after what they saw in Trost District.

Whatever the case was, Hal felt no greater pride in his life than this exact moment, standing at attention before the wings of freedom that they would soon bear. It was their duty to the dead that they saw this first victory through and through to the very end. Whether it was in the fields of a ranging or the streets of another district, or the ruined landscape of a living hell, they would never surrender to fate.

---

Interactions: ShadyLady (Nina)
Mentions: Arcanist (Colossal dumpy), KaramelKarma (Jericho), M Moonlessite (Elke & Ambrose), lion. (Ramiel), Castello (Leon)
​

Luka had lost nearly three kilograms in weight throughout the week after the battle, according to the last routine visit from the military physician. There was no nourishment to be had from food or water, and what little he could barely manage to stomach only lasted so long. He had practically disappeared from the walls for most of the time save for his mandatory responsibilities as a soldier, and was allowed to abstain from Hal's determination trial as a reliable key witness after providing his final report to the representative clerk. He couldn't find any enjoyment in throwing himself into the hussle and bussle of the day-to-day, rarely if ever seeing any one that called him friend. Not even Nina or Jo; he couldn't bring himself to face any of them willingly out of the overwhelming shame that he felt, as much as it concerned him that it would worry them.

Instead, the blonde was entrenched within his designated room at the barracks with the door locked every day, brooding over the universe and all of his failures that filled it. Luka sat at the head of his unkempt bed, the sheets piled in a crumpled mess at the feet. His arms cradled both knees into his chest as the lower half of his face wistfully breathed against his wrist. Trails of dried teardrops left his blue eyes puffy and sore, staring down at an object with the same somber expression that he'd worn for much of the week. Before him lay one of the handmade chess pieces that he'd given to a certain someone; it was one of two rooks, broken into two halves. 'Jericho?' he remembered the realization beyond the slime of the body that had been perfectly cauterized into his memory. Cleansing the quarantined Trost District of all the dead had been haunting in many ways that were even worse than being in the actual battle itself; seeing all of the differently digested corpses and the varying states of mangle and decay left their final agonizing moments up to his interpretation.

It was all of those nightmares that invaded the peace of sleep, and the trauma that kept him up at night. That much was evident from the slight bags underneath his eyelids that one could observe. Luka had tried to take his mind off of the past week through his usual past times, but he found himself repeatedly impeded by a mental roadblock. His attempts at woodcarving would render errant objects, and he constantly blundered or stalemated in games of chess against himself. For the most part, the boy didn't go out of his way to approach others during this turbulent period save for a handful of exceptions. Yet, it was a strange contradiction; he didn't want the noise of others, but at the same time, he didn't want to be alone. Elke was someone that he explicitly couldn't bring himself to face. The blood of the other twin, one of his childhood friends, stained his hands, and the thought of Elke's turmoil stung him. It should've been me.

Three quick knocks on his door signaled that it was time for the induction ceremony, and yet, Luka remained unmoved, still sat on his bed with his face dug into his arms. Having to choose between the Garrison or the Survey Corps after what they all went through was an obvious decision, but in reality, it wasn't all that easy to choose. He was certain that Nina would join the Military Police along with Jo and Vivian, while much of the rest still intended for the Survey Corps. He'd joined the military to search for Seth, but without the luxury of being in the Top Ten, his only real chance to do so was to join the Garrison. It was all of the fear and trauma that steadily drove him apart from the Scouts' ideals, even if those aspects of reality didn't sway his friends.

Three more knocks interrupted his indecisiveness as Luka brought his hands up to cover his ears, shaking his head. "Just let me go," the boy mumbled to himself, wondering if it was one of his friends or another soldier at his door to collect him for the ceremony. Knowing that he couldn't avoid the prospect, he reluctantly shuffled from the bed and haphazardly wiped his face of any imperfections, standing at the door with a blank stare when another gentler knock registered. Luka pressed his palms into his cheeks twice, sighing deeply in order to help straighten himself together as he slowly twisted the knob to open the door.

☆☆☆☆☆
​

Luka stepped past a doorway and into the courtyard where the induction ceremony would take place, feeling small and insignificant under the starless night sky. A weak smile wore on his face as the ghost filtered into the sea of bodies that gathered for Commander Almeras' pitch to the graduates. As they listened to her direct manner of speech, droves of soldiers were already departing for either the sections of the Garrison or Military Police. 'She must've left already,' he pondered about Nina, having not seen her in the crowd in the moments leading up to the speech. He at least wanted the chance to say goodbye.

The commander's speech served to inspire the boy moderately, having been reminded of Hal's sudden discovery of transforming into a Titan. His power could easily turn the tide of the greater battle against the Titans, and the Survey Corps would need people like Luka to help realize the dream of freedom from their oppression. Yet, at the conclusion of her speech, his body fought tooth and nail to turn away from the stage, to begin walking towards enlisting with the Garrison. The disfigured, disturbing human faces of the Titans terrified him as much as he was afraid of the totality in death. To give their lives for a greater cause was noble, but he didn't want to die. Fear was intoxicating, and fear was winning.

When much of the crowd dismissed themselves, Luka's eyes lit up with revelation upon seeing that Nina had been standing mere meters away, previously obscured by the taller soldiers that stood between them. Even Jo stood at attention at the very front; it came as a genuine surprise that they remained. His body trembled as he alluded to the cruelty of the Titans and the broken rook that belonged to his close friend. "Hey," he had meekly shuffled within earshot of Nina, horrified at the thought of losing someone else. "You're... not joining the Military Police?" He might not have been strong enough like Ramiel or Leon to protect others, but he couldn't run away from death forever. That's right. If he was around, he wouldn't run away either. Fear may have bred the tears of a coward, but it was cowardice that compelled courage.

And he'd vowed long ago to not be a coward.

 

[The Prophet]

===============================
​

Why do you fight?

Why do you fight for a future you will never see?

Every time he regarded a soldier he met with that singular question, no one gave a straight answer. Always grief, or a sense of duty. But was devotion to a cause you would almost certainly die for worthy of such conviction? It was almost mindless; how one can be broken and beaten to near death, and their first wish is to fight. His last patient in Nina embodied the soldier type, and it cost him. Now here he was, standing in formation before the woman who would bring so many of those around him to a brutal and early death. As the blonde cadet looked over his time in Trost, he was sure of one thing.

When this speech finished, no one would remain.

---------------------​

The trauma inducing events at trust were enough to likely scare most to the realities of where they were. It was quick, brutal, and accomplished little. He was in the medical tents, and the streets, and the houses; he saw the horror and sorrow on so many faces. Admittedly, the titan-shifter provided a source of bitter hope to those people, and it was partly why he signed up to join the creature in plugging the wall. He wanted to study it. Anything he could glean, he wanted. It had gone swimmingly at first, despite the strange addition of a woman breaking into the operation to join. She was incredibly strange.

They cut down many, but were quickly swarmed at the gate. It was a bloodbath, and if Siegfried were of lesser mind, he would likely shiver remembering the day. No matter how many he killed, there were many more to replace his efforts. If he ever slipped up, he would die. Without the scouts and the titan's body sealing the breach, he would likely be dead now. Is this how they did it? How they got members? Making people feel as if they had to repay a kindness, when it was merely chance? Nonetheless, the breach was sealed and the young cadet got to live.


Back in safety, he was ultimately surprised by all the specks of determination amidst everything going on. People like Elke, who despite making stupid decisions, had a strange positivity and drive that was almost infectious. Or Sean and Milo, to which he was admittedly happy to see the latter again. They had a moment, and it struck him in hindsight as a very uplifting time. People like Alyssa, who pushed on despite losing almost everything. He should apologize to her for his harshness. Spending time with the medical team after they could get away from the sick and injured. Meeting new people. Those small moments of peace in the storm that was Trost could not dare win against human nature, right? He was sure of it. But…he couldn't say it was all bad.

---------------------​

When the speech did finish, Siegfried blinked rapidly. He had to pay attention; this was important. Years of training and questioning were only now starting to pay off. This would be his first answer. Did that man stand where he stood, however many years ago? How many stayed with him? How many would stay here now?

Blue eyes scanned his visible surroundings in wait, watching and hearing those who stepped away. Good, becoming a scout was foolish. Idiotic. Many were not such, and rightly took off. But as the formation began to clear, he noticed things. Heard even more. One was telling their support, and several cadets were staying. Some he knew, most he did not. Why?

Why do you fight for a future you will never see?

That decorated soldier stayed too, all that time ago. And now, here he was too. A fool. He could walk off at any moment, go and join the military police as he was expected to with his scores. It would be easier, pay more, and let him go home. Who joins the military to get answers? Apparently, he did. And so, the fool stood still after all. And as Siegfried did so, he added another question to the long list he feared he might never complete.

Why was he now fighting for a future he will never see?

 

[Moonlessite]

MENTIONS: Raiden [Hal + Luka], Colorless Spectrum [Laurie], lion. [Ramiel], homintales [Sera], ShadyLady [Nina], Castello [Leon] Arcanist [Jo] ​

​

The days that followed were ones that she wished she could have forgotten. Like many of the recruits, Elke was assigned to Trost cleanup after the sealing of the breach in Wall Rose. There was so many bodies that laid disfigured on the ground, their legs and arms twisted or missing, what was remaining of their bodies bent in painful angles and coated in ash. Their faces, possibly frowning or smiling or crying or even laughing only a few days prior, were now eerily placid or contorted in terror. Surprisingly enough, these initial appearances were not the things that frightened her the most. No, it was their eyes. She had never looked at the eyes of a dead person for long, not until now. These eyes, once flooded with life and light, now stared into an empty spot in space. There was no emotion in those gazes, not even if their faces betrayed what they felt at the moment of their passing. When she looked into these unmoving stares, she couldn't help but be intrigued in the paradox of death. They were once happy but fleeting things, like the last breeze of summer or the chirp of birds before dusk. Now they laid there, broken.

Did these people even realize death loomed before they were killed? Or were their thoughts, their dreams, their fears silenced in a second?

It saddened her to think about how they died with no hope left in them.

Her melancholy would never be cured, nor would anyone else's. They lived in a cruel, cruel world filled with death and loss. Many, many lives had been lost in Trost. They were both people she knew and didn't know. Garrison soldiers who put their lives on the line to protect the citizens who fled. Recruits from the other division. Friends that she trained with. Jericho. Her sister. Every waking moment, she felt like knives were digging into her heart. The pain persisted even as she helped wash away the ash and burn the dead. Nothing would make her forget. Not Ramiel's mutterings, not Luka's apologies, not Laurie's consolations. Nothing.

Yet, with Hal's reveal of his powers came a fresh trickle of thoughts. He had silenced the howling beasts that craved the flesh of her own kind. He had brought back Trost from the deepest corner of hell. With his existence flourished a fiery blaze of hope. She... no, they all still had a chance. This wasn't the end-- this was only the beginning.

That was when Elke decided she wouldn't let anyone else she cared about perish at the hands of Titans. Not if she could help it.

---

This was more difficult than she thought.

Commander Almeras spoke a dangerous truth. Joining the Survey Corps was not something admirable or gracious. No one was going to look up to her for being a Scout. If anything, she was probably going to be one of the first to die. By remaining here with the rest of the people who were to join the Scouts, she was practically signing her life away. But she remained stalwart, maintaining her salute as those who wished to join the Garrison or the MP walked past her and disappeared into the dusk behind them. Her legs quivered as she glanced at those that remained. Luka, Nina, Jo, Leon, Sera... they were all serious about joining, then? That meant she really had to stay.

"Why is this so hard?" Elke whimpered softly as the quivering in her legs had moved upwards and to the rest of her body. Each second ticked painfully slow-- it was like the invisible version of watching a snail crawl or paint dry. All she could hear was the gentle breeze that swept through the courtyard to whistle in her ear and the idle mutterings of the other to-be Scouts. Commander Almeras was really making sure that they were certain about their decisions. This wasn't a small choice to make, after all. How generous!

"Perfect."

The Commander's voice brought her attention back to the platform. Ambrose's once stone-like expression had morphed into a genuine smile, her face lightened by the smile that blossomed on her lips.

"I thank you for your dedication. I hereby welcome you all to the Survey Corps."

 

[Moonlessite]

MENTIONS: @Solace [Hal + Luka], Arcanist [Jo], Castello [Leon], homintales [Sera], ShadyLady [Nina], SpookyBones [Milo], Colorless Spectrum [Laurie], The Prophet [Siegfried], AI10100 [Sean], . D O V E [Gwen], lion. [Ramiel], Danidify [Elyse]​

​

ONE MONTH LATER.
WALL ROSE GATE, KARANES DISTRICT
​

The skies were clear for once in that rainy summer season; they rolled above their heads like one of those mythical oceans Elke had read about in a book once. That morning was very still-- so still, that not even the wind blew and the humidity hung so heavily around them that she could taste the invisible beads of moisture on her tongue. The idle swaying of horse tails was the only thing that disturbed the stillness and the puffs of air they exhaled were the among the few sounds that broke the desperate silence. That, and the sounding of brass bells from the church not too far from them. The ruckus had attracted the townspeople to gather, and even now they were hovering around their massive entourage of horses, which were complete with Scouts perched neatly on their saddles. She could not bear to look at the people of the district, not because out of the fear of disappointment upon seeing the disdain and disinterest in their eyes, but because she was so stiff upon her own saddle that she couldn't break the line of sight that she had with the gate embedded in Wall Rose. How much time did she have left? Minutes? Hours? Or would she be one of the lucky ones to make it back in one piece?

And if I'm really lucky, I guess I'll come back with an assist or two... A spindle of excitement amidst her sea of apprehension.

The mission was simple. They were to attempt reclaiming Quaver's Rook, which the Survey Corps had lost upon the collapse of Wall Maria and was a vital establishment that the Commander believed necessary to have under their control. Elke wasn't completely sure why, but if Ambrose said it was important, then it probably was. Her horse's reigns burned against the palms of her hand as she continued to stare ahead of her. All of this waiting... it made her heart thump against her rib cage and bile rise to the bottom of her throat. Once the gate opened, there would really be no going back. Then again, she was sure she lost that chance a month ago.

"The nearby Titans have been lured away!"

Elke's thoughts were shattered when one of the squadron's leaders, an older brunette woman with short brown hair, turned around to face them. "The gate opens in thirty seconds! Show us what you're made of!"

Even from where she sat, she hear the clinking of chains ring through the air as the gate slowly rolled open. Her horse shifted underneath her, its pointy ears perking up in attention as if it was already used to the loud noises. Elke ground her teeth together and leaned forward to pat the horse on the side of his neck. She was trembling again, but this time there was nothing she could do about it. "It's okay... no reason to be scared, everything's going to be fine..." she whispered harshly under her breath. Was she trying to comfort her mount or herself?

The gate thumped loudly against the archway. It was time.

"The 57th Expedition begins now!" Ambrose's voice boomed over the sound of the bells. The horses began to rush forward, and soon enough the thunder of their hooves drummed in Elke's ears. "We'll return victorious! Move, move, move!"

And for the first time that morning, the wind pushed through her locks of hair. There was no more room for fear, for apprehension. She glanced to the side, seeing familiar faces near her-- Leon, Elyse, Laurie. Their companionship soothed her and allowed her heart to slow its frantic beating if only a little bit. How long had she been dreaming about this? Of passing under the gate, of feeling the wind on her face while she was on horseback, of running free with her allies, of bearing the Wings of Freedom upon her back? For once in more than a month, Elke felt an authentic smile bloom across her lips.

MENTIONS:

​

If there was anything Vivian learned during her time behind Wall Sina, it was that Seth Soroka was nothing like his brother.

The transition from typical trainee to Military Policewoman, at least, had been a smooth one. She had gotten a room with another new policewoman, a girl by the name of Ana, who kept mostly to herself and didn't bother her for much. Which was good-- Vivian wanted her space. Having never spent a minute behind Sina before then, arriving there was a bit of a culture shock to her. It was amusing, really... typical farmgirl to posh member of the Military Police. Luckily for her and unlike some other new members, she maintained a calm, cool composure, and didn't let her upgraded status get to her head. The regiment was certainly a privilege to be a part of, though she wasn't at the top of the food chain just yet. No, not quite. That title fell to Darius and the lackeys underneath him, like...

Well, like Seth, really.

Vivi wasn't sure why he had called her to his office on that morning, but soon discovered that he had wanted to give her the order to patrol on a one-to-one basis. It was a strange request, though she was in no place to deny his query. Their whole interaction went well, she'd like to think. Seth appeared to be a decent man, one who looked similar to Luka and maintained an air of superiority about him, though that was typical when it came to people above her. Before she knew it, she had been dismissed to her duties. As she walked down a hallway lined with sun-kissed windows, bells rung in the distance, signalling the start of church. The sound was oddly comforting to her; perhaps it was the thought of normal people gathering together as one and in peace that soothed her tired heart. She paused for a moment at one of the windows, gazing out into the streets of Stohess district. She felt like she would never get used to the sight of neatly paved streets and dainty, ivory-walled buildings. They were so much different than the ashen walls of Trost...

Trost.

Why couldn't she forget? She wanted to, desperately. But every time she thought back to her friends who were mindlessly throwing their lives away, who were no doubt charging right into the maws of demons, her memory drifted to that hellhole of a district. To the half-digested corpses on the ground and the short-breathedness she felt behind the sanitary mask as she tossed bodies into massive fire pits. To Luka's tear stained face as he told her about Jericho's death. To the beginning of the end.

God, it felt like she was tearing open old wounds. Her head began to throb, prompting her to scrunch up her eyebrows and raise a hand to her face as she leaned against the wall and out of the way of the beams of light that filtered through the spotless windows. Maybe I haven't had enough tea.