read between the lines

Hitch Dreyse, member of the Military Police Brigade: Stohess Branch. Please read the rules. Sidebar image by karawek.

[sookashira]

Hitch & Marlowe

[overfalls]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[lawfulheart-deactivated20181117]

        Marlowe didn’t allow himself the indulgence of fidgeting – a reflex from his cold upbringing, where the slightest imperfection was grounds for extensive chastisement, until his ears rung from the lecture. Fidgeting is a sign of weakness, his father would say, tone dripping with cool disdain;  the only crime he cared about. 

But today the lecture loomed distantly in his mind; with a heavy sigh, he pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes until whirling geometric shapes danced behind his eyelids. He would never be able to wipe the image from his mind, nor the sound – nor any of it, for the rest of his life.

They treat everyone like they’re disposable, he thought savagely. Not for long.

He couldn’t escape the weight of responsibility; hands bound by protocol, yet it still made him complicit. If he wanted to change anything, he would have to keep his head down until he had the authority to punish these thieves and abusers, criminals in uniform. And punish them he would. 

Lieutenant Abelard Fleischer. He repeated the name, committing it to the list in his mind. 

With a sharp huff, he pushed away from the wall and stormed through the halls of headquarters, nearly blind with anger. There was a distinct sound the back of a hand made when connecting with someone’s face, and he remembered the woman’s gasp of pain as she sprawled to the ground in front of her own store. In that light, the demand to pay protection was deeply, offensively ironic. It would not be borne. 

He pushed through the throng of his comrades in the main hall, his sister’s letter circling his thoughts. She had whined pathetically, begging to come visit, made a convincing case for the necessity of such a trip. It’s for research! she’d insisted; he could almost see the corner of her mouth tugging up, betraying the truth. He shuddered to think how close he’d been to accepting. She wasn’t safe here; no one was. 

He collided hard with something – no, someone – automatically his hands shot out to steady whoever he’d nearly trod over before she could fall. “Hitch,” he said, blinking as he recognized her.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.” He realized too late that might annoy her, almost as much as stepping on her feet would have. “Are you alright?” Belatedly he realized he was still holding her shoulders, and he released his grip before that annoyed her too. 

[hitchisms]

     Hitch’s immediate action upon spotting Marlowe’s familiar dark hair was to stop in her tracks, certain that he would recognize it as a suggestion to do the same, but she realized a moment too late that he was caught up in something else, eyes more distant than usual instead of focused on the path in front of him.

The collision was, in theory, then, at least half her fault.

She ducked her head slightly, hand reaching up to cup her nose. It hurt, but it wasn’t bleeding. She supposed even if it was broken, there wasn’t anything that could be done about it, anyway. 

“I think so,” she said, tipping her head back to look at him as she let her hand fall back to her side. “Are you?”

[hitchisms]

@lawfulheart ;;

     There was going to be a play in Stohess!

Hitch read the article again, head tilting when she reached the end and could look at the picture for what had to be at least the tenth time. Though it was nothing particularly out of the ordinary, the detail of the stage and actors was eye-catching. Someone had spent a lot of time meticulously engraving it: she was sure that the same image was used wherever they went.

She had never seen a play, herself, but they seemed interesting. They were usually productions meant to snatch up the audience’s attention for a few hours: some kind of drama or adventure or romance. 

She looked around before carefully tearing the page out, folding the paper and then licking the seam before folding it back the other way. Free of the rest of the newspaper, she folded it into a neat little square and pocketed it.

Something to think about.

It was hours into her morning patrol--one where she was disappointingly not paired with Marlowe--before she had any time to look at the article again. While she waited for her partner to buy something from a shop, she unfolded the newspaper page and leaned against the brick wall behind her to read it back over.

Her partner’s head appearing close to her shoulder very nearly made her jump.

“Sorry,” the other girl grinned, smoothing back her long, straight hair. “It took longer than I thought. Are you planning on going to that thing?”

Hitch shrugged, folded up the article, and pocketed it. “I dunno. Maybe. Might be a good way to spend a day if I’ve got nothing better to do.”

It wasn’t even close to the truth; she’d hardly thought of anything else the entire morning. It sounded fun--way better than going out drinking or sitting alone in her room. Marlowe was a good conversation partner when he felt like socializing, but they usually stayed on base and--

Well, it’d just be nice to go out sometime, but it was difficult because Marlowe didn’t care much for taverns, and there wasn’t a lot else available to them in the middle of a crowded city.

But a play would be nice, right? And not too weird?

“You coming?” her partner asked, snapping her fingers so close to Hitch’s face her eyes crossed before she could blink it away.

“Yeah, yeah, gee...” She pushed off the wall and followed after, fingers fiddling with the straps of her harness. 

Marlowe would probably think it was kind of silly...but he also might indulge her, especially if she sold the idea well. She’d definitely have to find him after shift to see what he thought.

[bossassbowlcut-archived-blog]

Another round of Typical Hitch: questions all around, and not an answer to his to be found. Still, she’d said yes, even though she’d made it hard to follow by throwing so many questions at once. Taking in a breathe, Marlo leaned against the table opposite of the one Hitch was sitting at.

“If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t have asked to come along. And I want to… get out·and see how things are in Stohess at night when I’m not trying to right every wrong on the street. But since you raised the point: you’re the first one I’ve asked.”

What time did he want to go? He almost said·‘now’, but that wouldn’t do. For one thing, he had to change into something that didn’t scream·‘I’m a member of the MPB, give me all your money’. For another, Hitch wouldn’t want him wearing his uniform off-duty.

“Any time works. Just let me get some civilian clothes on and I’ll be ready.”

[hitchisms]

     She rolled her eyes, such an exaggerated gesture it might have looked almost childish. 

“Marlo,” she said, voice matter-of-fact, “the time obviously matters to you. Or it will. I know you’re snoring righteously at, like, probably eight o’clock at night every night. Wouldn’t wanna keep you up past your bedtime or anything. So we’d better get changed and go now, so you’re not grumpy in the morning.”

Though he probably would be, because he always seemed to be grumpy. Maybe his early bedtime was a ruse and he didn’t actually ever get much sleep.

He was probably too busy trying to figure out how to fix everyone and everything else to realize he was an idiot mortal just like the scum he hated so very much.

[goedheid-deactivated20190424]

     marco cares a lot about hitch. there’s a lot more to her than what meets the eye, he thinks, and though she can be a little ( well, plenty ) hard to keep up with sometimes, marco does enjoy her company. there’s never a dull moment with her, that’s for sure — and he thinks that if he can conquer friendship with jean of all people, he can handle pretty much anyone else.

     he does care about her, and he does certainly value her opinion, but sometimes, even marco’s head can get stuck up in the clouds.

     one part of his brain is thinking about all the work that awaits him back in his quarters, another thinks about the shady man that was watching him and his squadron the other morning, a different part thinks about the way that one of his boots is starting to get worn out, and another thinks about how he doesn’t have the money to buy a new pair. he sends whatever he can of his pay back to jinae to help his family manage the farm. if he gets new boots, the horses may not eat. and the horses should definitely eat.

     the last bit of hitch’s words strikes marco enough to snap him out of his daze, and chocolate eyes blink back to life as dark brows furrow, unsure if he’s really heard what he just heard. his head cocks to the side, sort of like a border collie that heard a strange whistle.

               ❝ wait, can you —- backtrack for a second. what was that? ❞

[hitchisms]

     She twists a lock of her hair around a finger, turning slightly to face him, pace slowing as it registers in his brain that she’s said something strange. Something about his startled expression makes her feel almost guilty, but it’s not hard to remind herself that he totally deserves being pranked; hell, he probably deserves a worse prank than this. 

She tilts her head to the side, hand falling to rest on her hip.

“You weren’t listening at all, were you?” A head toss makes her look indignant, annoyed; she’s only marginally so, maybe more hurt. She doesn’t much like to be ignored, but she’s grown used to it and knows it’s unreasonable to expect everyone to listen. Or anyone, sometimes.

The sigh she breathes out through her nose is loud on purpose.

“You should’ve been paying attention from the start,” she tells him, “and then maybe you’d know what it was I was saying. It’s not very nice to ignore people, y’know.”

[julystorms]

[fyeahrpmemes-blog]

How long has the mun been roleplaying?

[Answer in tags!]

[hitchisms]

he walks by her side, quietly, listening to her yammer on about whatever it is that she yammers on about. hands tucked into his pockets, he gives and an inquisitive, ' oh yeah? ' when she arrives at a point that requires prompting. marco's listening, he swears.

     She knows he’s not listening; nobody ever really does, after all. But that’s the game, isn’t it? Pretend. It’s all a farce, and she’s no better than anyone else because she plays it, too.

It’s like she’s on stage as the chattery side-character, the one nobody cares much about, the one who talks just to fill the silence. It’s not as if it’s out of character for her; it’s just...there’s more than that. It’d be stupid to show it, though, because this kind of world is one where you’re better off if you don’t ever let anyone know too much.

So she lets Marco pretend to listen and rambles on because it’s just nice to get the words out there, sometime. Besides, it’s not as if he’s hearing any of it. It’s not as if he needs to. It’s all superficial bullshit and she doesn’t really care whether he’s listening or not.

But it won’t stop her from making a big scene about it. She takes a deep breath, continuing her story about Officer Dennis Eibringer and what he does with the reports they waste their time writing.

“Yeah. Then he just tosses them into a box... Doesn’t even read ‘em...” And somewhere in there, in the middle of the sentence, she adds: “I guess it’s no real surprise that some titans can fly.”

[zhugeliangs]

She had sharp eyes, I realized, a way noticing things while you thought she was paying attention to something else.

The False Princess, Eilis O’Neal, p.271 (via zhugeliangs)

[yeagerbxmb-blog]

      He brought the bread back to his lap when she shook her head, unsure what to do with it. With all of this talk he definitely had no appetite now, and wasting it was out of the question.

      There wasn’t much time to think about it as Hitch went on. Eren’s jaw clenched, his fingers dug into the bread just a little more, and his weary body visibly tensed. It had gone from uncomfortable to unsettling. Of course she wouldn’t know everything.

      “Annie wasn’t trying to help anyone but herself.. If you think that’s how she was, then you’re wrong.” It was hot button, a sore spot in his heart. Right now he cursed his luck; what were the odds that this girl knew Annie well enough to talk about her like this? Better than he was expecting, obviously.

      “If you’re looking for someone to explain everything for you, it’s not me. I’m not that smart. Things happen and there’s nothing anyone can do about them. We’re all just human. If you’re upset about the way things are, then do everything you can to change it or understand it. Even then what we can do is limited.”

[hitchisms]

     She was silent for a moment, eyes focused on her pants. She had known, of course, that Eren wouldn’t have all the answers, had known that there was a difference between the two of them, between Eren and Annie, because there had to be some kind of a reason for Eren being Humanity’s Trump Card while Annie was a prisoner of the Survey Corps.

Maybe selfishness was the key.

But Eren’s last words made her toes curl in her boots; something like déjà vu washed over her, forced her head up, eyes wide and blinking.

“You sound like Marlowe,” she pointed out, remembering Annie’s comment about how Marlowe reminded her of someone else she knew. But Hitch knew better than to bring that up; Eren looked worse than when she’d arrived; she had only made him feel worse, and that hadn’t been her intention at all.

“Besides, I’m not upset.” Her words were lighter than they ought to have been. “Just confused. I dunno. Guess I thought the world was pretty bad but it’s worse than I imagined it to be.” Like the Military Police, she thought.

[lawfulheart-deactivated20181117]

        “It’s not a little thing,” he said, annoyed, jerking his hand back. She couldn’t ever let anything rest, could she?  “I was uncomfortable. I am uncomfortable. I don’t like to flagrantly disobey regulations, especially in front of our comrades, even if I may want to, and  – and I don’t like hurting your feelings, if I can help it. So please stop putting me in a position where I have to decide between them.” 

[hitchisms]

     Chastised, she sank back, pulling her hands into her lap. Although he sounded harsh, he did have a point; she had acted out of turn, and publicly. Worse, he had probably tried to be discreet about it already, and his attempt had flown right over her head; she couldn’t be upset with him for speaking strongly on something when she failed to understand anything weaker.

“Sorry,” she said, lacing her fingers together. “I didn’t realize...” It had just seemed like the natural thing to do, a part of her usual teasing. But it had been too quiet, too something soft, and she chewed a little on her lower lip before she added, as a sincere attempt to do better: “I’ll stop.”

[lawfulheart-deactivated20181117]

        He struggled to conceal his dismay. These wind-ups were almost always a portent of doom. “Tell you what?”  

[hitchisms]

     She tried not to laugh at him; he was clearly apprehensive, if nothing else. And really, he had every reason to be.

“Why you got so embarrassed a second ago.” The delight nearly oozed off of her, though she made a semi-conscious effort to pull it back. As if to illustrate her point, she reached over to brush the back of her index finger against the side of his wrist. 

She couldn’t resist one final tease:

“Didn’t know such a little thing could get you all worked up, Marlowe.”

[lawfulheart-deactivated20181117]

     The gesture was not altogether unwelcome, but her insistence on a public display was. (Somewhat.) If they were alone he would have relished it, but in front of their comrades he had the regulations to think of; there was, after all, a proper way to conduct oneself, and after espousing on it for so long, it would make him a hypocrite to ignore them. He lingered for a moment, squeezed her fingers almost imperceptibly, then drew away, clearing his throat. 

“Are you being mysterious to tease me, or would you really rather I dropped the subject?” 

[hitchisms]

     “I was just having fun,” she admitted, resisting the urge to scoot closer to him. She had almost forgotten that they weren’t alone. “I’ll tell you the whole story if you really wanna hear it, but first you gotta tell me something.”

[bossassbowlcut-archived-blog]

Hitch had that rarest of talents: turning even the simplest of things into a grinding, aching, painful grind. “Yes. I want to hang out with you.” Marlo said, trying his best to not get annoyed too quickly. It was Hitch, and showing weakness of annoyance in front of her was like avoiding shark attacks by practicing a wounded seal impersonation.

“No. Eibringer told me to get out of his sight and to leave him alone for a night. I think he wanted to get out of the station with the rest of the officers for some fun.” He couldn’t keep the note of disgust entering into his voice at the thought of Eibringer enjoying himself. Selfish prick deserved a lot of things (a swift kick to the ass being the big one), but fun? Never.

“So… are you going out tonight? And can I come with you?” That was the way to speak to Hitch: directly, with no room for interpretation or excuse-making.

[hitchisms]

     She lifted an eyebrow, smile lifting up one side of her mouth. It didn’t really matter if she’d intended to go out later that night or not; her answer would be the same regardless.

“Yeah, I’m going out tonight... And yeah, you can come along. If you’re sure you want to. Not that I doubt you, Marlo, but I kinda do, y’know? Tired of not socializing with your peers? Curious about the scene? Still can’t imagine why you’d wanna go with me unless the others told you no...”

She pressed her hand down on her knee to stop it from bouncing, and acted almost as if she didn’t expect Marlo to answer any of her questions, anyway, by pulling her legs in beneath the bench seat.

“So, what time do you wanna go?”

[yeagerbxmb-blog]

      Eren felt the question before she asked it. It was hovering in the air, unspoken and obvious; a familiar feeling. Of course being polite would backfire. Of course…. How was she to know how heavy the subject was weighing on him now?       He sighed, and only after felt a little guilty for it, starting to set his portion of bread down before hestiating and holding it out in her direction. A human gesture, something to cover his own self-conciousness and exhaustion.

      “…Yeah, it’s true. Don’t ask me to show you; it’s not gonna happen… Hungry?” He’d all but lost his appetite.

[hitchisms]

     She was a little hungry, but the knotting in her stomach had been constant since she’d been captured by the Survey Corps, and so she shook her head, fingers twisting with one another in her lap.

“I wasn’t gonna--y’know... Wasn’t gonna ask something like that...” It seemed dangerous, and she wasn’t sure that she wanted to see it, anyway. Eren couldn’t be any older than she was, and in fact was probably younger, yet it seemed to her that he shouldered an unbearable weight, and she couldn’t begin to imagine how difficult that was for him.

“I just--you seem so normal, except for the--” exhaustion, she couldn’t quite say; it seemed suddenly rude to point out her companion’s bloodshot eyes and limp hair. She swallowed, wrapping her arms around herself. “Well, I guess Annie was, too. Normal, I mean. Just, y’know...not normal at the same time... She was so distant. But she wanted to help, I think. She lectured Marlowe, once. She just babbled on and on in front of everyone. It was right before she--” 

Hitch clenched her jaw shut, digging her raggedy nails into the fabric of her jacket.

“Sorry,” she made herself say. “It’s just--hard to understand. All of it.” She looked away. “Everything.”

[that-feulner-dude]

He didn’t answered right away. He couldn’t deny that Hitch was right. After all, you can’t say if you think you’ll survive or not. Everything is about the odds, about if some holy thing above decided that it was your end.

If there was something above. He highly doubted it. If there were any “Gods” who decide about the world’s fate, nothing of this would have happened. Unless they are demons. Then, it would make perfect sense.

Cut that out, dude. No one is above, and it is not the time to think about it anyway.

“I have to admit that you’re right”

He paused. Telling such thing to Hitch just felt weird. Since he entered the Brigade, he just saw her as a stupid girl who wouldn’t care about anyone but herself. The second part is probably true, but the first one was slowly fading. A stupid girl wouldn’t say things like that.

“I don’t think I would survive. During the first expedition or the 14th, it doesn’t matter, I’m sure I’ll die at some point. Titans are impossible to beat”

[hitchisms]

     There was something pleasant about being told she was right, even though she knew she was, even though their conversation wasn’t exactly high-stakes deep discussion. She hid her smile behind a hand.

“To be fair,” she said, “we all gotta die sometime. It’s just--it’d be great if being eaten by titans wasn’t the cause of it.” She glanced over to him out of the corner of her eye. “But I guess there are worse ways to go.”

It took a special kind of person to think they could help humanity by killing a titan or two, but Hitch wasn’t that type of person; even she could admit that she was more self-absorbed than that. She didn’t care so much about humanity’s continued survival as her own, and how could she? It wasn’t as if she could make a difference, anyway. She was only one person, and not particularly skilled, either.

“At least being killed by a titan is fast.”