( the request isn't unreasonable, but something about it strikes Armin as familiar, perhaps a little intimate, as though they were companions. he likes that: that whatever strangers they are to one another, they aren't alone. when he returns, Armin thanks the Judge — some of what he eats, clearly hunted before he asks if the Judge had — something that reminds him of Sasha, someone he describes with a fond but sad little smile. ) She'd scarf down everything you gave me and ask for more. ( ... ) I caught her stealing extra food a lot.
( awake, Armin narrows the gaps in his understanding of this place. asleep, he dreams of sand, a tree, and the boy he ate. he is use to that, people haunting his dreams. Bertholdt is the oldest, but this time, he seems younger than Armin remembers. (Armin is getting older.) (what does it mean, all those people in that place? did they never leave? did Ymir? Eren?)
realizing the Judge is, still, awake, Armin props his weight on one elbow. groggy, rubbing sleep from his eye, ) I can take watch. ( he hadn't slept that long, he thinks, but without external cues to measure time... Armin begins to depend on hunger, consistently periodic, and routines he knows to the exact minute. a lack of time is meant to fracture them; drills structure the "day" and keep him strong.
on the third day, give or take another half in the estimate, the fog lifts them to another trial: an abandoned coal mine and a man that traps than hunts. (another mask. Armin's instinct about the Judge had been right; the realization is brief and intuitive, distant in the moment.) even prepared, the trial is no less nervewracking: nigh every step, untrustworthy, but Armin realizes the game — run them where he wants them — and finds plenty more than his own foot to test what's in front of him.
after, the bonfire is some place new, livelier with more than Armin and a man who does not speak. their idea of food is questionable — ) This is pizza...? ( — but Armin believes them when the others claim the gas station offers little to nothing. nonetheless... Armin wanders inside, the aftereffects of adrenaline suppressing his appetite.
coffee sounds a little appealing, but what catches Armin's eye the most is a shelf-full of identical teddy bears, the sort of mass production prohibitively expensive after the rumbling. he turns, teddy bear in hand, when the light behind him flickers. Armin smiles. gaze falling to the teddy bear, ) One of my friends has a daughter. Her birthday is soon. ( although Armin hadn't really considered presents in preparation for the return to Paradis... he places the teddy bear on its shelf.
opposite to his last injury, the side of Armin's head and collar is bloody. he had lost an ear, already regrown, choosing between the Trapper's machete and one of his lures. )
no subject
( the request isn't unreasonable, but something about it strikes Armin as familiar, perhaps a little intimate, as though they were companions. he likes that: that whatever strangers they are to one another, they aren't alone. when he returns, Armin thanks the Judge — some of what he eats, clearly hunted before he asks if the Judge had — something that reminds him of Sasha, someone he describes with a fond but sad little smile. ) She'd scarf down everything you gave me and ask for more. ( ... ) I caught her stealing extra food a lot.
( awake, Armin narrows the gaps in his understanding of this place. asleep, he dreams of sand, a tree, and the boy he ate. he is use to that, people haunting his dreams. Bertholdt is the oldest, but this time, he seems younger than Armin remembers. (Armin is getting older.) (what does it mean, all those people in that place? did they never leave? did Ymir? Eren?)
realizing the Judge is, still, awake, Armin props his weight on one elbow. groggy, rubbing sleep from his eye, ) I can take watch. ( he hadn't slept that long, he thinks, but without external cues to measure time... Armin begins to depend on hunger, consistently periodic, and routines he knows to the exact minute. a lack of time is meant to fracture them; drills structure the "day" and keep him strong.
on the third day, give or take another half in the estimate, the fog lifts them to another trial: an abandoned coal mine and a man that traps than hunts. (another mask. Armin's instinct about the Judge had been right; the realization is brief and intuitive, distant in the moment.) even prepared, the trial is no less nervewracking: nigh every step, untrustworthy, but Armin realizes the game — run them where he wants them — and finds plenty more than his own foot to test what's in front of him.
after, the bonfire is some place new, livelier with more than Armin and a man who does not speak. their idea of food is questionable — ) This is pizza...? ( — but Armin believes them when the others claim the gas station offers little to nothing. nonetheless... Armin wanders inside, the aftereffects of adrenaline suppressing his appetite.
coffee sounds a little appealing, but what catches Armin's eye the most is a shelf-full of identical teddy bears, the sort of mass production prohibitively expensive after the rumbling. he turns, teddy bear in hand, when the light behind him flickers. Armin smiles. gaze falling to the teddy bear, ) One of my friends has a daughter. Her birthday is soon. ( although Armin hadn't really considered presents in preparation for the return to Paradis... he places the teddy bear on its shelf.
opposite to his last injury, the side of Armin's head and collar is bloody. he had lost an ear, already regrown, choosing between the Trapper's machete and one of his lures. )