( He says she has room to breathe, and she supposes he's right — there's no reason not to believe him, and the driving pressure and force she's faced to get back to Liberio (which does not, she knows, still exist) and her father. She's seen him transformed into a Titan, and seen him human again. A certain chapter of horror has closed with the world bleeding and weeping in its wake.
Of course she'd like to see what a family is between herself and her father now. It'd be nice, she thinks, to have anything between them beyond the mistaken focal point of her entering the military, of being good enough to take place as one of the Warrior Candidates, of becoming one of the nine. Neither herself nor her father know what it is yet, but they can learn.
What else? Logic tells her she's too involved to not be part of what helps to stabilize what's left behind. Less logic, and more emotion she's not good at handling, says it's because there's a chance Armin would ask, and ah, right. Fields. Planting. Any food and means to survive. The oceans should be a good resource, because the Colossal Titans from the Walls hadn't eradicated marine life, but that's a shift and change. Will it be enough to support the survivors?
Are there enough survivors to worry? (Yes.)
She shakes her head, clearing it of thoughts that have no purpose here and now. Reiner's correct. She has breathing room before she's back home, whenever that might be. Based on what he's said, it could be years. Years that will inherently always be different from back home, or what life she'll live there, whatever form it'll take. Is that freedom?
Did Eren find his? )
That would sound a lot nicer if I had any idea what to do with it.
( She uses her feet to push back the chair, letting herself gain that distance, metaphorically and literally. She doesn't cross her arms over her chest, or tug at her hood, or do any of the myriad of things she knows she does to bring herself in, make herself smaller, harder to see.
She taps her fingers on her thigh. Then she looks at the ring again, holding it between two fingers, flicking open the hooked blade, pushing it closed. What to say... how to make it make sense to a Reiner who hasn't been through it? Bluntly, that has to be easiest. Not best, but at least bluntly she can get it out. That freedom... it's yours, too. )
I didn't want to come to the last fight. I didn't go, really. I left for Hizuru on Kiyomi Azumabito's ship, with Gabi and Falco locked up in one of the rooms. I didn't want to have to kill anyone else... not even Eren.
( She looks up, hooked blade of her ring open. She presses the pad of her thumb into it, knowing exactly the pressure it takes to force herself to bleed. )
I was done. Done with fighting, done with all of it. Then Gabi and Falco had their own crazy idea, because of what Falco had seen in memories... I didn't think he could really do it, but when he said it, and when Kiyomi said try, we had to try. So Falco transformed, and he kept himself that time — ( Important point, said calmly. Most of them are not Bertholdt when it comes to mastering their Titan form. Falco had not been rational when he transformed earlier that day. ) — we sunk that ship, and we flew after all of you.
( She continues to press the pad of her thumb against the hook. She feels the exact moment it breaks skin, and there's nothing, nothing at all, behind it but the sharp scent of copper-iron, and the prickle of a pain she's ignored for more than a decade. )
I'm tired of killing people, Reiner. I don't think I can do that anymore. But I'll fight in this place's shitty fights as long as I don't have to add anyone else to my body count.
( Red beads and drips down into her curled palm. No hint of steam, and nothing healing. Just a fool cutting herself on a needle, and the quiet snick as she folds it closed with that same slowly bleeding thumb. )
no subject
Of course she'd like to see what a family is between herself and her father now. It'd be nice, she thinks, to have anything between them beyond the mistaken focal point of her entering the military, of being good enough to take place as one of the Warrior Candidates, of becoming one of the nine. Neither herself nor her father know what it is yet, but they can learn.
What else? Logic tells her she's too involved to not be part of what helps to stabilize what's left behind. Less logic, and more emotion she's not good at handling, says it's because there's a chance Armin would ask, and ah, right. Fields. Planting. Any food and means to survive. The oceans should be a good resource, because the Colossal Titans from the Walls hadn't eradicated marine life, but that's a shift and change. Will it be enough to support the survivors?
Are there enough survivors to worry? (Yes.)
She shakes her head, clearing it of thoughts that have no purpose here and now. Reiner's correct. She has breathing room before she's back home, whenever that might be. Based on what he's said, it could be years. Years that will inherently always be different from back home, or what life she'll live there, whatever form it'll take. Is that freedom?
Did Eren find his? )
That would sound a lot nicer if I had any idea what to do with it.
( She uses her feet to push back the chair, letting herself gain that distance, metaphorically and literally. She doesn't cross her arms over her chest, or tug at her hood, or do any of the myriad of things she knows she does to bring herself in, make herself smaller, harder to see.
She taps her fingers on her thigh. Then she looks at the ring again, holding it between two fingers, flicking open the hooked blade, pushing it closed. What to say... how to make it make sense to a Reiner who hasn't been through it? Bluntly, that has to be easiest. Not best, but at least bluntly she can get it out. That freedom... it's yours, too. )
I didn't want to come to the last fight. I didn't go, really. I left for Hizuru on Kiyomi Azumabito's ship, with Gabi and Falco locked up in one of the rooms. I didn't want to have to kill anyone else... not even Eren.
( She looks up, hooked blade of her ring open. She presses the pad of her thumb into it, knowing exactly the pressure it takes to force herself to bleed. )
I was done. Done with fighting, done with all of it. Then Gabi and Falco had their own crazy idea, because of what Falco had seen in memories... I didn't think he could really do it, but when he said it, and when Kiyomi said try, we had to try. So Falco transformed, and he kept himself that time — ( Important point, said calmly. Most of them are not Bertholdt when it comes to mastering their Titan form. Falco had not been rational when he transformed earlier that day. ) — we sunk that ship, and we flew after all of you.
( She continues to press the pad of her thumb against the hook. She feels the exact moment it breaks skin, and there's nothing, nothing at all, behind it but the sharp scent of copper-iron, and the prickle of a pain she's ignored for more than a decade. )
I'm tired of killing people, Reiner. I don't think I can do that anymore. But I'll fight in this place's shitty fights as long as I don't have to add anyone else to my body count.
( Red beads and drips down into her curled palm. No hint of steam, and nothing healing. Just a fool cutting herself on a needle, and the quiet snick as she folds it closed with that same slowly bleeding thumb. )