tushanshu_logs | [closed] This blood on my teeth is far beyond dry

It's better than wood ashes and rendered fat.

[Or letting your hair get so greasy it starts to dread on its own. That's not too cool either.]

[With his hair all nice and sudsy, Bertolt gets the bar of soap and starts washing the rest of himself. He might not start jerking off in front of Reiner, but he has no compunctions about soaping up his groin, his nose wrinkling a little as the grime starts to sluice down the drain. Good god, he got filthy.]

Okay, point.

[Can't disagree with him there. That said, life would be so much better if everybody was just sensible and cut their hair short like him.

While Bertolt washes, he returns his attention back to shaving again, the next comment idle, out before he even realizes it.]

Sasha would probably try and eat it.

[Bertolt looks really silly with short hair.]

[He stops what he's doing at Reiner's next comment, his hands freezing where they are, and for a moment, the only sound in the bathroom is the pattering of water off the tiles near Bertolt's feet. Then, slowly, he starts washing again.]

She would.

[His voice is cautious, guarded; part of him wants to remind Reiner that they can't think like that anymore, that Sasha hates them now, just like everyone else, and it does him no good to think of her fondly. The other part of him wants to agree, and reminisce, and talk about better, simpler times.]

[He seems spurred on by that comment.]

Remember that time she killed a boar during training? Just cause it was there. Man, I don't think they ever served us anything to equal that.

[Reminiscing is easy. If he just focuses on the good memories, the bubbling guilt at the pit of his stomach, the screaming weight of his crimes, feels lessened somewhat, shoved away to a distant corner until it overwhelms him again.]

Reiner.

[Bertolt can't look at him right now; he can't deal with pulling him back. Except he has to, doesn't he? Who else will do it?]

That's not who we are. We're not soldiers, we're warriors.

[And thinking any differently will just lead to pain.]

I know, I know.

[His voice is rough, harsher than intended maybe, but his irritation is less at Bertolt and more at himself. Was he really that undependable that every little thing makes Bertolt think he has slipped again?]

I know what I am, Bertolt. I just... wanted to talk about good things for a change.

Then why don't we talk about going home instead?

[Bertolt isn't offended by Reiner's tone; the fact that he's being so harsh shows that he knows who he is right now, and knows that he might slip away again.]

[Because as much as he wants to flee home, he knows going home will not be that easy. They had failed and failure was not something that was acceptable. Not only that, but Annie was still behind the walls, and their opponents now knew too much. Not everything, but more than they should know. Eren had the power of the coordinate, and they had not even been able to bring Krista-- no, Historia, wasn't it, along.

But it is still their home.

He leans against the sink, idly shaving another section of his cheek before he says, with slightly forced cheer:]

Remember how you used to get stuck in trees?

[Maybe cause Berick and Reiner kept daring him, maybe because of that.]

Yes.

[Bertolt's memories of their home aren't as good as Reiner's; training was more difficult for him, more traumatic, and if asked, he wouldn't say he had a happy childhood. However, going home means not being a monster anymore, and that is something he clings to.]

You always thought it was so funny that someone who could grow so tall would get stuck in a tree.

[Reiner half turns to regard him.]

It's not even like you were bad at climbing trees. You just kept losing your nerve.

[Based on sheer technique and reach, Bertolt could've been the best tree-climber of the three of them, if only he hadn't constantly frozen up with every sway of the branches under his feet.]

Remember how I broke my arm trying to catch you that one time.

Edited 2014-02-11 20:27 (UTC)

[Dude, don't look at him like that when he's showering! Bertolt sticks his head under the spray to rinse his hair out before he responds.]

Good thing you knew how to heal it, or we would have been in trouble coming back.

[He isn't looking looking, just... looking.

He shrugs a little at that though.]

Hey, I promised I would get you down.

[He says that in a tone that very much conveys he still thinks it was the right decision, that conveys that he would've made the same decision even if he couldn't heal or if they would've gotten in trouble. He'd promised, after all.]

So you broke your arm instead of me breaking my ankles.

[Which, considering the phobia he developed later, was actually one of the nicest things Reiner has ever done for him.]

Thanks. For getting me down.

[Reiner does nothing but nice things for him.]

Well, if Berick would've tried he probably would've broken his ribs. You're heavy, you know?

[Not as heavy as Reiner, but you know, he is a tall guy and got plenty of weight to him.]

[Bertolt never said he didn't. Even when Reiner is lost in being a soldier, he's still nothing but kind and supportive to Bertolt. It's not his fault that he doesn't realize how bad some of the things he says then hurt.]

I know.

[Years of barracks life and cold showers have turned Bertolt into a master of cleaning quickly and efficiently, and he turns off the shower and steps out, leaving his stinky, soaked clothes at the bottom of the stall for later.]

Where are the towels?

[Reiner jerks his head to the right, indicating the closet that holds their towels. Their super fluffy, soft towels. Compared to the scratchy, standard towel they got in the 104th, these are divine.]

Go for it. And toss me one.

[So he can finish up shaving and wash his face.]

[The bathroom is larger than any Bertolt has ever seen before, but they're big guys, and to reach the towels, he needs to brush past Reiner, his damp skin whispering against him. He doesn't apologize; why would he need to? It's not like this hasn't happened before, a million times.]

[He plucks a towel out of the closet, marveling for a moment at its softness, before he drapes it over Reiner's shoulder. He takes another for himself and aggressively towels off his hair before getting to the rest of him, starting with his arms and chest and then working his way downward.]

Thanks.

[Reiner doesn't react much to Bertolt sliding past him. He had spent too much time amongst naked dudes to react too strongly. He liked having dignity.

Shaving the last of his face, he then cleans the blade and his face. Yes, that is better. No more stupid teenage stache. Turning to Bertolt, he holds out the razor.]

Here, we can share it.

[Bertolt brightens when he sees that razor and, having wrapped his towel firmly around his waist, reaches for it.]

Thank you.

[He comes from a hairier class of people, and he's about two days out from having a full beard. It'll feel good to get all this crap off his face, and he steps up to the mirror and begins lathering up.]

Edited (fuck you, past progressive) 2014-02-12 15:57 (UTC)

It's nothing.

[He claps his hand on Bertolt's shoulder for a moment, before he quickly changes out of his own clothes, with the same kind of lack of caring Bertolt had had about being naked in his presence, reaching for the clean set. He's still intending to go for a run. Doesn't seem sensible to shower only to need another one once he is back. This concept of unlimited hot showers still hasn't quite sunk in.

Somewhere around pulling on his shirt, Reiner pauses, almost contemplative. His voice is idle, but his brows are knotted, and his shoulders tensed.]

I'm gonna talk it over with Annie too, but... I'm thinking of meeting up with Armin.

What?

[Bertolt turns to look at him, one side of his face covered with shaving lather and the other still sporting bristly black hairs.]

Why?

[He knows Armin better than either Annie or Reiner, and he thinks that’s a terrible idea.]

Because we can't afford discovery. These people need to think we are just humans.

[He rubs his neck. Listen, he thought this through, okay? Have a little faith.]

Eren is here as well. You know how he tends to react first, think later.

[Bertolt might know Armin the best, but Reiner thinks he can understand how Eren thinks. It's nicely straightforward and black and white.]

He knows we are not on his side anymore. If he sees us and loses control, we'll be forced to face him down as a titan. He might force us to shift as well to deal with him. We can't let that happen. The only one who can put a leash on him is Armin. We need his cooperation.

[Bertolt listens, watching Reiner closely the whole time. He can think of multiple arguments against what his friend is planning, but he can also tell that Reiner has made up his mind about something and won't be easily dissuaded.]

[He shrugs and turns back to the mirror, lathering up the other half of his face.]

Talk it over with Annie, then do what you think is best.

I won't do anything stupid.

[Except maybe meeting Armin, that is probably stupid.

He sighs, pinching his nose for a moment.]

I just don't want a repeat of what happened last time we met.

Huh?

[Bertolt starts scraping the razor along his cheek, shaking the hair loose into the sink. He remembers the last time they saw the Survey Corps, but he doesn't remember anything in particular about Armin.]

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