#|| stories

[crossingplace]

hydrangea

@astutior is not alone, neither is annie.

I tell her I love her like not killing or ten minutes of sleep beneath the low rooftop wall on which my rifle rests. I tell her in a letter that will stink, when she opens it, of bolt oil and burned powder and the things it says. I tell her how Private Bartle says, offhand, that war is just us making little pieces of metal pass through each other.

Kevin Powers, “Letter Composed During a Lull in the Fighting”

    What Annie recalled about Armin always startled her with the helpless clarity of insects to a flame.

    She remembered the sudden drop of her stomach, the rush of blood to her head when he’d told her that the reason he went to see her fossil was what she’d heard Hitch tease him about. What she’d thought was his pity scoured her chest as she turned to leave, until he’d grabbed her wrist; and she let herself sit back down next to him, drawn back to him like he’d been drawn back to her, the four years she’d hibernated.

[crossingplace]

I see you're having a great time with Armin, Annie ,,, huh ,,,

      Squints into the paths, annoyed at Eren (a familiar feeling).

      “Jealous?” Annie practices smirking. She knows it comes out more like a grimace. “You could join us, if you’d like.”

      Armin’s voice, from back in real time: “Annie, are you talking to the seagull?”

[crossingplace]

sargasso

❛  ... it seems important to mention all the things that went wrong.  ❜  + Annie @erleidn

   “Going over all the things you could’ve done differently only helps if you learn from them what to do next.” She watched her voice travel to Mikasa, both taller and smaller than she remembered as the girl leaned against the grey-painted capstan. “Judging from how many times Armin and Hitch came underground to talk to my rock, it took me two years to stop, and I didn’t get much out of it.”

   Mikasa’s voice returned, soft and slightly hesitant.

   “But you’re not mentioning it,” Annie replied, “You’re probably just thinking in circles.”

[crossingplace]

❛ ... it seems important to mention all the things that went wrong. ❜ + Annie

old asks lol, thanks gia @erleidn

    In her protective coma, she’d gotten used to disorientation: the slow rocking of a rhythm that engulfed her heartbeat, the sway of a world that, for a little time, continued without her.

    Suffice to say, during the few times Annie had been on a ship before, she’d on occasion get nauseous. Now, though, she was grateful for the undulation of the waves carrying her, this stillness in motion comforting in its vast familiarity.

    Time had lost Annie Leonhardt for four years. She would let it lose her for another day at sea, if she couldn’t do anything else to change what was happening on land. Thus, she didn’t know how long she’d been curled up against the railing for by the time Mikasa came up on deck, only that she knew a sunburn would come soon if her healing let it.

    The light, Liberio getting destroyed, the ocean: the water rolled words out of her mouth, and Annie let them, liquid as they came.

    “Going over all the things you could’ve done differently only helps if you learn from them what to do next.” She watched her voice travel to Mikasa, both taller and smaller than she remembered as the girl leaned against the grey-painted capstan. “Judging from how many times Armin and Hitch came underground to talk to my rock, it took me two years to stop, and I didn’t get much out of it.”

    Mikasa’s voice returned, soft and slightly hesitant. 

    “But you’re not mentioning it,” Annie replied, “You’re probably just thinking in circles.”

[crossingplace]

@cntritum is not alone and frieda reiss is feeling petty (starter call)

      She built a fence across his Path - nothing fancy, just a remembrance of sun-greyed wood roughly hewn, forming boundaries in the pasture to keep the cows from wandering off. Unfortunately, there was no real sunlight on the Paths for her to conjure her old straw sunhat and pretend she was just waiting here for her beloved bastard baby sister to come wandering over and play. Her baby sister, who ended up pulling a familiar move in the end: getting pregnant out of necessity. Truly a member of the Reiss family. Worse, if Frieda was still alive and only had Historia to carry on the family line, King Fritz/she would have made Historia do the exact same thing anyways (but probably would have comforted her and found ways to make the idea of it easier... oh Frieda could kill Yelena, but Frieda was dead, so she couldn’t). Duty above all else. Frieda wanted to cry. 

      Crying was useless. Taking it out on someone somewhat related to Historia’s decision was not.

      She waited.

[crossingplace]

@gnalliard​ is not alone and zeke is bored. (starter call)

      The snow had started melting at around ten in the morning today. Frankly, he thought to himself, his snow baseball-player masterpiece wasn’t going to survive the afternoon. The hard-packed snow holding the arm-branches up was letting the arms and the bat he’d stuck in their “hands” sink a little instead; his player had batter-batter-upped and outed. It was time to send him back to the bench until the next winter storm.

      Zeke gouged out some of the snow from his snowman’s face and rolled it in his mittened hands absentmindedly while he watched an unsuspecting Porco walk around the corner. Young Porco had recently begun learning how to whistle, and he was still, well, learning. Zeke didn’t find it very pleasant to listen to. He packed the snowball a little harder, and let fly.

[crossingplace]

❛ I never said I was a good person, but one can receive good advice from a bad person.❜ - Frieda

@overlevendc

“And what makes you so sure that the advice you’re giving is good advice?”

Levi’s eyes don’t leave her even though she’s not exactly a threat to him. But she may be a threat to others. He doesn’t exactly know quite yet, but he’ll just assume she is. He cants his head just a bit to the side, eyes sharpening .

“Can you explain that to me if you’re claiming it’s good advice? What’s so good about it?”

      Frieda gave the man a beatific smile, setting her book on the table. 

      “I have quite a bit more life experience than my age might suggest,”  she replied as she perched on the rickety wood chair, “Captain.”

      With a nonchalant brush of her skirts, Frieda set her thoughts in order. “In any case, I’m sure my advice on how to deal with my family is better than the advice anyone other than Historia might give you.”