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

I don't know. Eren wasn't reacting to me as if he knew what was going on, but I think Armin still knew anyway.

[There was more to it, probably. The way Annie had seemed so shattered that first week. Even now she isn't the same as she was before Trost. Bertolt must have noticed it, though Reiner isn't going to tell him how bad it was right at the start. Some things... some things didn't need to be talked about.]

I just punched Eren and grabbed her before she could do anything. I figure, if we run into him again, he'll probably want to pay me back for that. That's why we need Armin to keep him under control.

[Bertolt finishes shaving and rinses off the razor, watching the soap and hair swirl down the drain. He thought he'd gotten out of a bad spot by ending up here; turns out everything here is just as complicated and awful as it is back home. But at least there's food here, and they're all together, and only two people know they're mass murdering monsters. It could be worse.]

[He has the feeling that back home, it's going to get a lot, lot worse before it gets any better.]

[He turns around, setting the razor blade on the sink, and claps one hand on Reiner's shoulder, giving the heavy muscle there a little squeeze. It's not for him to say what's right anymore. All he knows is that he'll defend Reiner and Annie with his life.]

Can I borrow some of your clothes?

[If it were just he and Reiner, he could walk around in a towel, but he'd like to get covered before he goes back out there and sees Annie.]

[With a sigh, Reiner reaches up, prodding Bertolt between the eyes.]

You gotta start paying attention, Bertl. I already got you your own clothes.

[He gestures over to the closed toilet where he left Bertolt's change of clothes. He recognizes Bertolt might just be trying to change the subject, but he allows it. He figures this is as much of a go ahead for his plans as he is going to get from Bertolt. Now all he needs to do is inform Annie.

Giving Bertolt a little nudge towards the toilet, he grins.]

You know you look pretty ridiculous in my shirts.

Right. Thanks.

[It was definitely an excuse to change the subject. Reiner's plan isn't one Bertolt can entirely sign off on, but he won't try and prevent him from it either. He never could talk Reiner out of something when he put his mind to it anyway.]

[He starts putting the clothes on, pausing to marvel at how soft and well-made the fabric is. These are clothes like they must have behind Wall Sina.]

I look like a little kid.

[A little kid with his stomach hanging out.]

[Reiner gives him a pointed look that sweeps up along his frame. All six foot four of it.]

Ain't ever seen a kid like that.

[Technically they are still kids, being only seventeen, but Reiner hasn't really felt like a kid in years.]

[Bertolt tugs the shirt over his head, and it fits like a glove. It's amazing how Reiner knew exactly what size to get, and it's even the right color.]

Because I'm not wearing your shirt.

[He smiles at his friend, the expression quick across his face, before bending to pull on his pants. Again, they fit like they were made for him. Geesh, Reiner, did you secretly take his measurements while he was sleeping?]

[~~Is that weird, that is not weird, shut up~~

He snorts a little.]

Even wearing my shirt doesn't suddenly shrink you down a foot or two.

[Even a foot shorter, Bertolt'd still be taller than some of the guys from their squad. He'd still be taller than Annie. Not that that is a giant accomplishment.]

A little kid wearing his big brother's shirt.

[Bertolt's stomach chooses that moment to growl again, loudly, and he glances down at it.]

Uh…

[There's more food in the kitchen, right?]

[He laughs at the loud growl of Bertolt's stomach.]

Man, just go eat some more. We've got eggs in the ice box if you can manage to figure out that stove. I think it's a stove, at least.

[It looks like a stove, but Reiner hasn't found a place yet where he can put in the wood to make it heat up.]

Edited 2014-02-17 19:59 (UTC)

Thanks.

[Bertolt starts to leave, but pauses in the doorway, half-turning and putting a hand on Reiner's shoulder.]

It's going to be okay?

[He figures Bertolt might have meant that as a comfort, but it is hard to find much comfort in his words when he is sounding so unsure of himself. Though, really, that is sort of par for the course with Bertolt.]

Yeah, I know. Don't worry about it, we'll figure something out.

[The we means as much as I here. That is his job, after all. Making sure Annie and Bertolt are okay.]

[ While they were off getting cleaned up, Annie's managed to get up and get dressed before ending up back at the table. Her hair is still sticking out in all directions and a hairbrush lay on the table like she clearly intended to do something with it without getting that far, but at least she has pants on.

She has her arms folded in front of her, chin resting on them as she stares at nothing in particular. But, again, pants! It was probably some sort of improvement. ]

[Bertolt isn't surprised to see Annie still at the table when he returns; he nods to her in greeting, then goes to the icebox and, after studying it a moment, figures out how to open it. He finds the eggs Reiner was talking about and gets them out, along with a block of cheese and some green and red vegetables that look vaguely familiar. He could make something pretty good out of this, he thinks.]

[He puts the spoils on the counter then turns to regard the stove. The top looks familiar enough, but when he opens the front door, there's no place to put the wood or make the fire. He closes the door and straightens back up, looking at it with his head tilted to one side, trying to figure it out.]

Maybe it is not supposed to work.

[That is all Reiner can offer when he watches Bertolt examine the stove. Despite not being much of a cook, he had practically turned the stove upside down trying to figure out how it worked, but he hadn't had any success so far.

Of course the idea that anyone would build a house without a working stove is weird, but then again, living in a tree house on a giant turtle. Everything is weird.

Right. He had said he was going to talk to Annie about his plans as well. Pulling up a seat, he sinks down in it, resting his elbows on the table.]

I'm going to talk to Armin. I already talked it over with Bertolt, he's okay with it.

[ Annie watches Bertolt, wondering exactly how long it might take for him to start experimenting with the dials. She had, and had been only somewhat impressed by the result. Easier to just not bother with cooking in her mind, especially since she had lacked the motivation to try to get the hang of this technological stove.

And then Reiner is speaking, but her attention only rivets on him at the mention of Armin's name. Her eyes go unusually wide, lips parting as she makes to speak and no sound comes out for a long, long moment. When she finally manages, the only word she gets out there is a dull, ]

What?

[ Had she heard that right? Talk to Armin? ]

[His eyes narrow a bit at her reaction. She has changed. She is not that girl anymore that she was before they had tried to take Eren-- no, no before that even, not that girl she had been before Trost. It's something fragile and unbalanced that seems so frightful and out of place on her face. Because if there is anything she has never been it is fragile and unbalanced.

But then, who is he to judge her for that. All of them have changed; since failing their mission, since Trost, since coming to these damn walls in the first place.

So he continues, his voice a little softer, steady and certain.]

I'm going to talk to Armin. We need his cooperation. We can't kill them and we can't afford to fight with Eren. He's the only one who can control him.

[Bertolt is not so much okay with it as not actively protesting it. If Reiner is going to insist on letting Armin mindfuck him, Bertolt is going to let that happen, and then be there to pick up the pieces when Reiner returns.]

[The stove have knobs on it. One of them has a temperature reading, and the other four just have numbers, 1-6. He notices that there are four black circles on top of the stove, and wonders if they correspond to the numbers on the knobs. Only one way to find out! He changes the knobs to 1, 3, 4.5, and 6, respectively, and stands back to see what happens.]

Alright.

[ It's with great care that she tucks away her feelings on the matter. It takes some doing, but eventually her emotions are secreted beneath that smooth, flat expression so characteristic of her. ]

At the end of the day at the stables... that's probably the best time to find him alone.

[His eyes narrow for a moment. He doesn't need to ask how she knows. Annie had always been the best of them at slipping by unseen to gather information. And that she is gathering intel on their biggest enemies is... it's prudent in a way.

Except he has the feeling she isn't watching him for any reasons so dry and militaristic. And he can't really blame her. They were a part of them for too long, they got too close. To have it all wrenched violently out of their hands is still like having a great big gaping wound that can't be healed through normal means. And as much as they knew it was coming, they were never prepared for it.]

Thanks. I need the two of you to stay home, okay? [More to Annie than to Bertolt. Bertolt wouldn't follow out of his own initiative, Annie might.] Or at least far out of range. If we show up with superior numbers, he'll never talk.

[And then, because this situation needs some forced levity.]

No need to worry. I have no intention of anyone getting punched this time.

[Interesting. The circles are turning red. Bertolt reaches out and touches one, immediately yanking his hand back with a hiss when it burns his fingers. A wisp of steam later and the burns are gone, and he passes his hand back and forth over the circles, feeling the different degrees of heat rising off them. He turns off the one he had turned to 1, to see if it cools down, and starts cracking eggs into a skillet that was sitting near the sink.]

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

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