bertall | Iɴʙᴏx ✉ Vɪᴄᴛᴏʀʏ Rᴏᴀᴅ

_{[If a Colossal Titan falls in the woods, does anyone hear it?]}

I ended up falling on Jean. I tried to tell him that something was wrong, but by the time I started talking I was losing my balance and leaning on him. Next thing I knew I was on my bed. Beyond that, I was only a little dizzy afterwards.

_{[It was still pretty freaky though. No one expects to drop like a sack of rocks when they see someone from their past.]}

Jean didn't either, but... I can't be mad at him. Or you. It's|

We didn't expect it.

[ Only the bears do. Everyone else just feels it for kilometers around. ]

We should have expected it was possible.

[ She berates herself for not having prepared for that. It's unfair, and she knows it; even mental preparation does nothing to mean you're prepared when faced with the reality. She's learned that lesson a few times over. ]

Sounds like both you and Jean survived unharmed.

Listen, Bertolt... You say that sometimes Reiner shows up, right? Briefly, for those weird times when we're back to being Warriors in full. [ When they're shifters in actuality, not just Warriors in name. Even if they both really fail at being Warriors. ] If he comes again during those times, and Marco's still here, don't let that idiot be surprised by him.

[ Do not make her live through that version of hell again. She's selfish to be saying this, so bluntly,and insensitively, but she doesn't want Marco to catch on to what Reiner and Bertolt accidentally let slip in his hearing once before. He can't die here anymore than any other offworlder can. Reiner can't ask for something useless to their mission back home here.

But she will kick both their asses if she ever, ever has to deal with that level of stupid bullshit again. Because Marco hadn't needed to die.

If they'd just stayed quiet, if they'd just been more aware of their surroundings, if they hadn't fucking slipped up--well, that wasn't fair. They weren't the only ones. Her tells were all in behaviour, after all, but it'd never been in careless words. ]

I'm not dealing with that shit again. I can't

[ No end punctuation. She goes to delete the last two words and hits enter, activating the send. Selfish, selfish Annie. She's always known it. ]

_{[The bears deserve it for getting to sleep for so long.}]

Ann--

_{[Bertolt catches himself and quickly shuts his mouth with a soft 'click' of his teeth, his brows knit together and face set in concern as he re-reads what she sent. Reiner... Gods, what would Reiner think? He already looked defeated the last time he saw him - he didn't have the same shine in his eyes that he admired, he seemed exhausted, and he clearly lost weight.

He looked like a man who wanted to die, and it still destroys Bertolt on the inside.

If he saw Marco, how much more would that destroy him?

It's clear it's already affecting himself and Annie, and not in the best way. He finds himself looking towards the front of the train car, no doubt where Jean is showing Marco everything he can, and squashes back the pang of... whatever it is in his chest. Regret? Jealousy? Fear? Maybe it's everything under the sun.

Instead of focusing on it for too long, he looks back down to Annie's words and squeezes his Pokegear for a moment.]}

I promise.

_{[He's not Marcel - he's never thought himself to be a brave person like him.

He's not Reiner, either. He wasn't so willing to throw himself in harms way to protect the same people he was supposed to wipe out.

He's a coward. He stood by and let that happen, and for what? A small part of him knows that if Reiner had told him to do it instead, he probably would've. But instead, Bertolt stood there and listened. And watched.

He wasn't a reliable person, but two years has been plenty of time for him to change. Two years and new memories, and he only has the life he built here to lose. If Annie considers herself selfish, then Bertolt is in the same boat. He refuses to lose what he's managed to cultivate on his own and by the gods he'll fight for it. He refuses to see Reiner break more than he already has, and he refuses to see Annie's future torn away before she has the chance to enjoy it.]}

Annie, I promise.

One of the last things Reiner said to me is that he never thought I was reliable|
I'm sorry I didn't

I promise I won't let that happen.

You aren't reliable. Or you weren't. Who you are now... you're not only who you were before. I want to believe that. If even people like us can change, then maybe there's some purpose to being here past staving off death or something like it.

So I read you say you promise. Tell me, are you a reliable person now, Bertolt? In these two years of living a life in this place, have you learned how to be reliable? Can I trust this promise that you're making?

[ The sorry has her shoulders tensing, but she doesn't address it. Don't you dare, she almost says, but there's no point. What's done is done. What's past is past. He's not even alive any more, and she may as well be dead, all things considered. There's nothing to forget, but plenty to forgive. What choice did we ever believe we had?

She doesn't care about those things in this moment as much as she cares about hearing from Bertolt that he's confident enough in himself and his self here to say yes. If he believes he's changed. If he's reliable in a way he never quite could be back home. In a way even Reiner couldn't be, not when which self he put forward could change without enough notice for Annie to keep track. ]

_{[Plenty to forgive, yes, but the real question is whether or not any of them deserve it. Bertolt couldn't even begin to beg for it. Someone like him doesn't deserve it, so he ought to perish the thought.

Even though they were just kids, what they did could never be forgiven.

The hand not holding his 'gear strays to his pocket, his thumb brushing across the worn cover of the watch that had appeared on his nightstand not too long ago. He knows what lies on the inside, but so far he hasn't been able to bring himself to open it to look.

Hell, he hasn't even shown Jean that the watch itself exists yet.]}

I swear on the name of Randolf Hoover.

_{[He's never taken his father lightly, nor the bond he had with him. He's never opened the watch because he's afraid to see his face looking up at him from that worn, faded picture that had been taken and carefully cut out after Bertolt had become a candidate to inherit one of the seven.

He's confident enough to swear on his father, so it has to mean something.]}

[ There are few things that can leave certain impacts on Annie, few things that resonate despite having vastly different reasons for the intense emotion attached to the people in question.

All that matters is Bertolt doesn't treat his father lightly. All that matters is Annie trusts this kind of swearing is not a lie, not from Bertolt. She doesn't even think to question it.

Bertolt hasn't changed in this way. It wouldn't make sense. ]

Then I trust you. In this, at least. This promise is one you'll keep.

[ This second message comes after a short delay. She debates sending it at all; but it's Bertolt swearing on his father's name that makes her hit enter to send, in the end. ]

Thank you.

[ And nothing else. No claims about how his father would feel, or what he'll do with Bertolt gone, or what will happen, or anything of the sort. It's not relevant, and it would be empty anyway.

Just thank you. For giving her something to believe in, even if it's just an ass-covering move to not have to endure the mess with Marco ever again. ]

_{[He'll do everything he can to keep it. He's already proven to himself that if he truly sets his mind to something, he's capable of carrying it out.

At least until his heart gets in the way, then it's debatable. Shiganshina was proof enough, but at least here he doesn't have to worry about things like that. If Bertolt has to, he'll get Marcel to try kidnapping Reiner or use him to act as a barrier until he can diffuse the situation or get him away.

He can't lose any of this.]}

I couldn't keep anyone safe back there, but I'm going to here. Just... remember that, okay? If I ever miss something, please tell me so I can try to fix it.

_{["Let me be the Warrior I should've been."

After a few moments, he adds;]}

Will you be okay?

[ Hearts confusing lines of action, making them act in ways that are both to their benefit as human beings, but their detriment as warriors... they both know something of that, don't they? ]

If I notice, I will.

As okay as I'll ever be. Blood doesn't rinse off with water. I've known that for a long time, like we all have. I'll keep living with it just as I was before.

[ The nightmares are part and parcel. She doesn't have to like them to know they're as fully hers as the memories she wishes she could forget.

Nightmares in their own way are a measure of her humanity. A shitty one, but a measure nonetheless. Hers can't be any worse than Bertolt's. There's a twisted kind of comfort in that. ]

You?

Edited 2018-10-14 11:03 (UTC)

_{[It's a double-edged sword. They want to protect, but they have to destroy. It's not fair.]}

I'm here if you need someone to talk to.

But

_{[He casts another look towards Jean and Marco's direction and frowns to himself.]}

We'll see on my end. I'm hoping it'll be okay.

[ The refrain of their lives, for a long as Annie remembers. None of it has ever been fair. ]

I won't promise I'm any good at advice, but I can listen. Especially given your situation... if you need the outlet, I'm here on this, if nothing else.

How are you handling the new division of Jean's attention?

[ She's not sure how to phrase it otherwise, but it wasn't a secret how Jean and Marco had been close in their training years. Jean's also in the weird position Bertolt is for Annie: not the dead one, but the older and growing up without the defining pressures from home warping them to fit particular molds. That Marco has died adds another layer of complicated emotion, but the end result is there's years between them that can't be made up for without concessions on both sides.

She's thankful, in her own way, she's always held to being a lone wolf. Aside from Bertolt with his outside interests, and Armin with his own, she doesn't have to worry about being sought out by people from home. It's not what anyone expects from her. It's not what they want. She doesn't expect Marco to be any different. ]

You're plenty good. I'm just thick-headed sometimes. I still appreciate it though, and I hope you know that.

_{[Dumb boys will forever be dumb boys, but he does value her input. It's good to have another set of eyes on this whole situation, even if he doesn't like to admit it and acknowledge that she may be onto something.]}

We'll see on that front, too. Right now it...

I'm not sure.

I'm nervous.

Who isn't? Like I've said, there's plenty I point out when I can finally be bothered to speak up, then find it all goes ignored. I hardly expect people to act different than they do.

[ Dumb boys especially. Really, she's more impressed when they listen--this is part of why Eren caught her attention. He wasn't particularly brilliant by any stretch of the imagination, but he heard... at times. Eventually. ]

Do you want any comment on what I saw while enduring your moving home with the two of you, or not?

Would it help if I said I'd try to listen more?

_{[Her next comment gives him pause, and he types 'no' at first. He keeps re-reading it, and after another moment of thought he deletes it.

It might be better to actually hear it.]}

One, the moving does take some getting used to so I'll give you that. Two, I... go ahead.

Words are words. They're easy to say, less easy to mean.

[ Act, and she'll notice the difference. Which she supposes is what he's attempting to do, though she doesn't hold her breath as she types a response. ]

It was more the stench.

[ Blunt. ]

His eyes look up to find you, he tracks what you're doing, he smiles when he sees you, he predicts little things that you might need. He cares. He's attracted. That won't stop or drastically change with Marco being here.

What you choose to do with that, or if you choose to accept that, is up to you. But it isn't subtle.

What stench?

_{[This is what they call nose blind.

He finds himself taking a big ol' whiff to see if he can smell anything, and he comes up with nothing. To Bertolt, everything smells the way it always has.

Everything else she says though... He finds himself slumping against his wall, and there's no doubt that his ears are starting to burn again - if Jean or Marco were to look in, they'd know something was getting him flustered.

Has that really been happening? How blind is he?]}

You're serious?

The one like strong cologne and not-quite washed enough body odour.

[ It's very Male, though hardly exclusive to guys. Their train car could stand a better deep cleaning and regular airing out, and a cease fire on whatever perfume they coated themselves in every day. ]

Yes. One of my many faults.

Do I smell??

_{[Annie. Annie. Do not make him sniff himself. Please.]}

I'd

hardly count that as a fault. Especially if you think it's 100%.

Edited 2018-10-15 05:02 (UTC)

Bertolt, contrary to what it sounds like, I didn't spend time personally smelling either you or Jean. Besides, you bathe, don't you? How often do you do laundry? Do you even use cologne? Strongly scented body soaps?

[ Don't ask her these things, Bertolt, you don't want the answers. ]

I'm certain of my assessment of Jean when it comes to you. As for being serious to a fault, maybe not, but I'm hardly going to be accused of being light-hearted.

Iɴʙᴏx ✉ Vɪᴄᴛᴏʀʏ Rᴏᴀᴅ

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