---

---

There was something about being hung onto like a children's toy that Hotaru found herself despising. Her face stung something awful, a weird taste in her mouth. If she was just let go, maybe she could run, or call for help, or something! As if the universe heard her thoughts, Hotaru's flailing feet finally hit the ground. How? There was a slight delay in her thought process as the man that previously held her had released her, though there was little time to fully comprehend the situation at first. A hand had taken hers, an unfamiliar voice telling her they needed to go as it pulled her along. Her legs seemed to move on their own, following her savior's run. Someone had heard her? She didn't think anyone had heard her, let alone had noticed what had been happening during the chaos of the titans.

The titans!

Fear nearly got a hold of her again, though regret had gotten to her first. She had almost forgotten, looking around at the destruction around her. How could any of this be happening? It was too much, she didn't even know how she was still running, though she was honestly just following this person's lead. Said person looked around her age, her light blonde hair bouncing. She had a firm grip on her, which was for the best, though she seemed much more motivated to get them to safety than Hotaru was. Her own mind was a mess, though tears found their way to her. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, though all she could manage was a somewhat choked, "I'm so sorry..." She wasn't entirely sure why she was apologizing.

---

---

Galloping proved itself to be far more efficient than using their own feet as Grant and Luca took off further down the streets. In the background, an ambience of screams, terror and pain kept creeping up behind them as thud after thud kept on making its course. Whilst darting between the streets, filled with panicked faces, they looked towards rushing for the canal. It was fairly open for its size and didn't contain a huge amount of human traffic. People were still figuring out whether hiding in their homes or running for the boats was the best strategy. Deep within his mind, Grant could sense that in their time of fear too much trust was being put into the soaring bodies of the Garrison, now flying overhead in their ODM gear. The galloping failed to cease as they marched onward, now becoming parallel with the river that housed the boats further down the line. A strange thump kept him on his toes as he looked behind, staring into the water for just a moment. Something had caught his mind in a strange but truly bewildered state. Whilst his eyes watched the river, trying to seek some form of calmness from it, he noticed something that forced him to halt his stallion.

In the water, clutching onto a smaller figure, was a boy of similar age, drifting helplessly down the river. Grant's eyes were bewildered at the sight and forced him to stand still, making Luca stop in order to question his decision. It was a before him yet surreal to linger upon. The drifting made for a sense of hopelessness, one that strained the mind of Grant as he looked around in all directions until it finally snapped into his head. Luca's voice could be heard yelling at him through muffled noise, Grant acting instinctively. Dismounting from his horse, he moved his head towards Luca's and grabbed a large strain of rope hooked to the side of his saddle.

"You keep on galloping, I'll be there shortly!" A strange thought of confidence shook through his outer-aura, but on the inside Grant was truly screaming at himself, questioning whether or not he was doing something right. Before Luca could say anything, he forced his friend's horse to gallop away, leaving him alone in the panicked streets. Time was of the essence whilst he began to secure the rope onto the saddle of his own stallion. And before long, it was in place, causing him to look back down into the water to ensure that the figure was still there, floating. With a noose at the rope's lengthy tip, it could act as a lift system for them. He just needed to get their attention first. "H-Hey! Grab onto this...I can - I think - try to get you up! But hurry, i-it might hurt a bit!"

He tossed the rope into the open waters, waiting for him to react. Once he was sure that the figure had began to hoist himself and its dead-weight onto it, he began to lead his horse forward, knowing that it would slowly rise him above the water. For a minute, he thought if he was actually doing the person down there a favour. Maybe they wanted to die, or found safety in the waters below, but Grant could not see the rationality or reasoning at that moment in time. He felt a strong compassion to save those in need, much like Mateo would have in his day. But the thought of his uncle was silenced when the thudding that had been present all this time came to life. He looked ahead, to his right, whilst leading his horse, only to see the gaping hands of flesh and bone reaching towards him. His eyes widened far more than they had before as he felt himself encompassed by the smaller titan bearing down upon him. Its fleshy construction gently touched his clothes as he froze in place. His horse still consistently raised the boy from the river, but Grant was now being lifted by his own fate. It stared him in the face with great beady eyes. It was studying him. He felt his heart stop and start at a hundred miles an hour. Every second turned into an hour, into a day and a year eventually. Was this it? Was this the fate he was bestowed upon?

A sudden lunge from the beast, followed by a spray of blood from behind its neck, released him from the grasp and dropped him harshly onto the concrete floor below. It fell backwards, toppling and turning until it remained still. Grant's body was set free, but fear had still restrained him to a position of static content. Fear was engulfing him. The soldier who saved him was quick to move on, as if it were nothing, but here Grant sat, wondering if anyone was to pick him up. All whilst that happened, his Stallion eventually lifted the rope back to the top.

_{@LordVoldemort}

---

Unlike the many other townspeople attempting to scurry to safety, Charlie's face barely showed a hint of panic. Instead, total dread stiffened the muscles in her face, her unmoving expression giving off a feeling of eerie calmness within the utter chaos that surrounded her. She hadn't shouted for help, nor screamed in terror at the corpse littered streets even once. Never was she one to let those sorts of emotions mould the expressions on her face.

But her panic spoke through her breathing, her running, even Charlie could feel her mental process beginning to crumble under all the sudden stress that had been placed on her, the thought that an excruciating death awaited her just a few neighbourhoods away. She was exhausted, absolutely shattered, she just couldn't anymore. The only thought that kept her legs from giving out under her was the distant sound of heavy footsteps following her. Charlie didn't even look back.

A sharp tug at her wrist made Charlie let out a horrified gasp, and for the first time since the attack she turned her head to look back. It was her mother, sweat drenched and panting as hard as she was, her grip only tightening as she dragged Charlie forward without a word.

"Mother, where's—”

"The boats," her mother cut in. "We're going to the boats."

Charlie's mother seemed to be unfazed by the disaster unfolding before her eyes, remaining calm and collected in the midst of terrorised screams and chaotic crowds. Not a shred of fear or horror was brought to the surface, or rather, she refused to let it show; the woman was dead set on her goal to get to safety. She wasn't looking back, leaving everything else behind her to die.

"Mother!” Charlie exclaimed, stopping in her tracks. There was only one thing she was intent on not leaving behind for the titans to take over.

"Father. Where is he?” she said, her voice wavering a little in all its desperately mustered seriousness. Her mother seemed to have clicked her tongue at the question, and only continued to tug at her daughter's wrist again.

"Charlotte, this is not the time—"

"Did you leave him behind?—”

"I'm telling you Charlotte, he is long dead!" her mother finally snapped, pulling Charlie along the road more roughly than she did beforehand. "If you look back, all you will see is titans. There's no hope for anyone back there!"

That harsh statement delivered in an equally as harsh tone left Charlie silent. Emotion was completely drained from her face, only a hollow look left in her brightly coloured eyes. Although she was slow to run, she wasn't hesitant to follow, simply letting her mother drag her across the street like a rag doll. Soon they were within the vicinity of the evacuation boats, and the pair's running pace slowed. Although the two weren't out of the clear yet, with other panicked civilians trying push and shove their way into their only chance of escape, Charlie took this time to gather her jumbled emotions back together. Her town, her home, her father, all gone. It had all happened too fast for her to mentally process anything, too fast for her to even let out a tear of sorrow.

Charlie's mother loosened the grip on her daughter's wrist, and slipped her fingers into her hand. Charlie felt small goosebumps prickling her skin at the unfamiliar contact.

"I'll tell you everything once we get onto that boat," her mother said looking ahead at the frightened crowd, stern but reassuring.

For once, Charlie quietly nodded and agreed.

---

---

Cold. Gabriel's thoughts drifted freely about, just like the water below him. It's too cold. The air chilled him as he held Eitan above his head, trying to keep him as dry as possible. Yet, even as his brother's life took priority, a cruel idea emerged in his head. What if...we just stayed here, though? We won't have to worry about the Titans. The world, he thought, was too cruel for his brother. Such innocence in a mad reality was too sinister of a life. Perhaps it would have been better to let them both drown together. Maybe then, they would be with the others, and perhaps their father. Dad...

The acceptance that his dad was dead had finally took hold. For so long it remained buried away in his heart. Only now, as he slowly accepted his own death, would he accept his father's. Yet, even so, something stung his mind. As his arms slowly submerged into the water, he looked towards his brother. But if he's not dead... His arms had stopped. What if he truly wasn't? How would he react to finding his family dead after returning? His heart beat quickly, the comforting embrace of drowning with his brother seeping away. I-I can't. I can't do that.

His concentration was broken by a rope landing into the water. He hadn't even registered the youth who spoke to him before he threw it, only that there was now a way out of the river. He took a hold of it, wrapped it around his arm, and held on tightly. Eitan cried out as they were pulled, the strain on his arm causing him greater pain than he already had to begin with. As they finally reached the top, Gabriel could hardly stand. The wounds on his leg were bright as day, made only more clear from the disfigurement of his ankle. "Did I not notice?" He mumbled to himself as his brother cried out some more. There, a Titan was reaching for their savor - until it was killed off by a soldier.

Gabriel was out of the loop at the time to have even cared. In fact, it was almost like he had completely ignored the beast. His eyes seemed glossed as he looked over at the other boy. "W-We.....we need to get to the boats. I can't move my leg, though." He held tightly onto Eitan, before holding him out towards Grant. "Take care of him first. Please." His voice was a clear indicator of the stress he had been through. It was shaking, fueled by the exhaustion that had befallen him. Yet even with all the hardships he was going through, it was clear that his will to live - no, the will to keep his brother alive - was strong.

---

---

The blonde girl's words were probably meant to be comforting, but Hotaru had rather mixed feelings about it. In truth, it wasn't the girl's fault; Hotaru was just having a difficult time wrapping her head around the fact that the chaos unfolding around them was in fact reality. She wanted to go home and go to bed to wake up and find this to be some sort of twisted nightmare. As the dark haired girl was about to respond, the nearby scream causing her to freeze in place. She couldn't look away from the rather grotesque scene, the shock of having it happen so close shaking her inwardly.

Luckily, the girl had acted, pulling her along as they broke into a run. Hotaru wasn't really sure what kept her legs running, though she was grateful for it. Staying alive, that's all she had to do. And right now, that meant running away.

Eventually, the pair came to a halt, Hotaru lightly bumping into her savior as she looked around. The mass amount of people reminded her just how many lives were affected by the titans' invasion. "Do you think we can get on one?" She asked, slightly nervous as she eyed the amount of people desperate to board.

---

---

---

---

Elif looked at the quivering man before her. Any other person would have looked at his clammy skin and his baggy clothing in pity or even disgust, but to her she was the only family she had. She forcefully hugged him, as if trying to expel the fear from both of their bodies. He wasn't an affectionate person but understood what must have been going through her mind, and awkwardly wrapped his arms around her to reciprocate the action.

“Elif, we have to get to the docks, dear. It's the safest course of action to take.” he said. He spoke with a softer voice than usual. Was he talking to her as if she were a child as a way to comfort her? Was he terrified for the both of them and unable to raise his voice? Even he didn't quite know. The stray boulder had completely flattened out one of the frail little tents that her father conducted business in. She should have kept quiet, but her concern and curiosity took over.

“Was anyone… there?”

Her father's face, a diagram of wrinkles and grime, deepened and looked much older in an instant. She immediately bit her tongue at her carelessness. “A patient of mine…” he sighed, “she was an older woman with not much time left… but to die such a humiliating death…”

Elif understood that he was forcing himself to keep speaking and nodded sharply, letting him know that it was enough.

Both of them were roughly aware as to where the docks were and how they'd get there yet looked around in confusion. They were like a pair of barn animals who suddenly didn't have a fence around them and weren't sure what to think about it. Especially her father, who must have spent more than a decade following the same cramped routine in his tents. Elif noted that he was trying to keep a straight face, but it was obvious that he was even more clueless than she was. They filled two small knapsacks with basic medical supplies. None of it was particularly cheap, and showing up empty handed felt vulnerable to Elif and shameless to her father. They inspected the tents from the outside with vague expressions, like animals realizing how comfortable things like fences and restrictions could be.

"Elif, don't walk so fast." said her father. While at work he was able to use his duties as a way to shield himself from anything he didn't like. There was a tinge of frustration in his voice, half of it not directed at his daughter but rather at having been placed in a situation where he had to hint at his aging.

Elif saw him grow more and more annoyed and responded with a smirk of all things. "Hmm?... What happened to me never fetching the bandages fast enough?"

Her humorless father shook his head in comic disbelief, something that made her beam with pride. It felt good to joke around for a bit and ignore the tension at hand. They both jogged to the direction of the docks in a hurry. Many others did the same, so not knowing the exact path wasn't a problem for them.

---

---

---

The sun beat down on both Instructor and Cadets alike. He stared down at the miserable 'children' from above the stage, his eyes inspecting each and every one of them closely. One could mistake his careful glare as that of a predator looking for fresh prey. He pulled a canteen from his belt and opened the lid. He knew it was a hot day - the perfect way to entice the new meat. He slowly took a drink from the refreshing water, before closing it, and attaching it back to his belt. Suddenly, without warning, Schulz's voiced boomed towards the cadets. "SO THIS IS WHAT I GET FOR MY HARD WORK!? A bunch of limp dicks and undesirables!? You make the fucking Titans look like angels! It makes me so god damn sick looking at you that I want to gouge out my eyes and let them rot in the fucking sun!" He turned to his right, making his way down the staircase of the stage.

The first man he had approached was a tall boy with brown hair - Gabriel Moreau, one of the survivors of the attack on Shiganshina. He had known from reports each and every survivor of the attack, making them targets of interest for the instructor. The survivors would make excellent soldiers and leaders - granted they didn't break first from the vicious training regime. Of course, the same could be said for the rest of the cadets, but to Schulz, it was a matter of their drive. "Well what do we have here? The fucking circus is in town. I've never heard of the god damned Horse Man before!" He stood in front of Gabriel, watching his every move for the slightest bit of response. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you make a pretty fine Titan! How about we use you for target practice? Maybe then you'll have done something even remotely fucking useful in your life! Better yet, how about we shave a couple inches off the walking support beam!" Extending his leg out, he gave Gabriel a nice kick to the knee, sending him toppling down. "What is your name!? I want to know the name of this freakshow of an equestrian!"

---

---

Gabriel, taller than ever before, stood at the front of the Corps. Standing at attention and military bearing was nothing new to him. It was something he was used to as a kid, before his dad disappeared. Grooming for the military had it's perks, as evidenced by Gabriel's attitude and commitment. As Schulz yelled out, he listened without flinching a single muscle. Of course, it didn't make it any less nerve-wracking when the instructor came down to talk to him personally. It was honestly quite a surprise to Gabriel that this man had such a foul mouth. The banter and constant disrespect was nothing unexpected however. He began to think quietly on his thoughts of his brother as the instructor went about yelling. Unfortunately, his train of thought was quickly erased by the swift strike of a leg to his knee, causing him to topple down.

"What is your name!? I want to know the name of this freakshow of an equestrian!" Schulz shouted as he fell down. Gabriel, as strong as he was, felt the pain like a shockwave through his leg. Luckily, physical pain wasn't something new to him. He kept himself from falling over entirely and stood up straight. "Gabriel Moreau, son of Noah and Cassandra Moreau, sir!" He gave a hard salute over his heart, his hand balled up into a tight fist. His form was sharp, giving him the appearance of a veteran. Schulz gave the slightest hint of a nod, acknowledging his salute and inability to go down, which had caught him quite off-guard. ""And why the hell would I know who they are!? You some kind of leech sucking on the teat of your family name!? Here's a wake up call freak: even if your name or your family name meant anything, nobody here gives a damn! To me, you're Horse Face!" He then moved on to the next Cadet.

@Hero
Schulz approached the girl, looking at her in absolute disgust. "A fucking dwarf! Imagine my shock though to find that it's a dwarf who can barely open her damn eyes! Who the hell let you into my training grounds to begin with!? I will hunt them down just so I can personally wring your neck with their intestines!" He spat down at her feet, beginning to pace around her. "I certainly wouldn't want to rely on someone like you to save my life. You look more likely to die from the wind blowing than you do to pass! What's your name, midget? I need a new word I can call out every time I get disappointed!"

---

---

What the hell had she gotten herself into?

Motivated by the notion to not starve to death as well as a myriad of mixed personal feelings, Hotaru Tachibana thought joining the military was a good idea. They were brave, they got free food, they learned to kill titans, they got sharp weapons and skills they could carry for the rest of their lives, they died in a blaze of glory...what's not to love? A lot, actually, but food was a very strong motivator considering she no longer had a legal guardian to speak of and there were only so many times you could go around begging before either getting chased out or getting unsavory offers.

But that was neither here nor there, as right now at the age of seventeen, Hotaru had absolutely no idea what she was getting herself into. As she watched poor Gabriel get kicked, she had to admit she had no idea how she would react if she got kicked. The best thing to do would be to stay strong. Or something. Why the hell was the instructor yelling so much? Supposedly Schulz was the best of the best, but she genuinely didn't think constantly screaming at people was going to get him anywhere. Or...was it? Just as she was trying to figure that out, the two locked eyes. Oh no. He rounded on her, insulting nearly every aspect of her physical appearance. Her jaw would have dropped if she hadn't forced herself to keep it shut. Disappointment? If her mother was around, the two would have gotten along swimmingly.

"Hotaru Tachibana, sir," She replied in earnest, watching him somewhat warily.

---

@Hero@HokumPocus
Schulz stoppe in front of her. "And polite as well! If you didn't look so much different from the others, I'd say you would fit just right in! At least your hair color and eyes make you stand out! Carry on, Failure." He turned on his heels and made his way down the line once more, yelling at the cadets down the line. One by one, they were insulted, or hit, or even both. Schulz was a hard instructor, never taking lip off a single person, no matter their background. It was evident that he was only expecting the best results of these cadets. After dealing with two of the cadets down the line after Hotaru, he came upon Elif, staring her down intensely.

"You. I've seen the conjoining of a human and a horse, a coin-slot eyed woman, titans that would make you vomit. You?
You have got to be the most pathetic looking thing I have ever witnessed in my life. You expect to be some kind of killer with a body like that!? WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!? STEEL KILLS TITANS, NOT STICKS, CADET! WHAT IS YOUR NAME!" He made it a point to spit out as much as possible at the girl, hoping to make her recoil in disgust. The more she reacts, the better he could dish it out to her. After all, it was his job to stomp out any sort of disgust, fear, or anger issues they had early on. If there was anything worse than a Titan, it was some nutjob cadet snapping.

---

---

Gabriel listened on as the Instructor went down the line, hazing the cadets as he pleased. He looked down at Hotaru as Schulz walked off, wondering what kind of person she was. In fact, he was beginning to wonder what they all were like. None of these people seemed to have any idea of what military life was like - or if they did, they weren't accustomed to it. Most of them don't even look like they can carry their own weight. He shook the thought out of his head, deciding it would be best to maintain the idea that they were all here because they could handle it.

Instead, he was beginning to wonder if Grant had his form correct. During their time together, Gabriel tried to teach him good posture and proper etiquette when in formation. Whether or not Grant had it down was a different story. Gabriel couldn't check to see, since he was directly in front of him. He had only hoped he wouldn't mess up anything, lest he get a a good smacking for bad form.

---

---

Joining the military was to Elif the obvious course of action. After the disaster her father and those who shared a profession with him spent a lot of time in high demand for their services, something which made Elif realize that she wasn´t suited to the life of a medic. She had plenty of experience running around for materials and dealing with the sight of the most gruesome injuries imaginable, yet found herself very lacking in the academic department. Most of medicine, it seemed, had to do with memorizing things from books and charts. She looked at her new path in life with no regrets whatsoever. Those first two talents had to count for something, right?

The general who stood in front of her and the rest of her just as amateur squadmates acted less like a human being and more like a rabid dog only slightly held back from tearing their throats out. She watched as he jerked and shouted from squad member to squad member, as if an invisible chain clamped around his neck was keeping him from a rampage. And then the man locked eyes with her.

Her legs trembled in fear regardless of how much she desperately tried to find a positive side to the discipline she was about to receive, with her natural lankiness exaggerating the effect. She was the sort of person who put no effort in to hiding their emotions. Anyone observing the girl must have probably noticed over half a dozen different signs that she wasn´t sure what was going to happen.

Throughout his shouting the instructor spat so much on her face that Elif thought that it almost might have been intentional. She had similar experiences with patients and their many, many different bodily fluids, so this was nothing to her. No, the pain all came from the man´s words. She didn´t want to be pathetic. She didn´t want to be a killer.

His final words, asking her who the hell she thought she was, sounded like him reading her thoughts and rejecting them entirely. They struck her deep.

“My name.” She uttered, trying to sound professional. “My name is Elif Edilweiss. Sir.” She tacked on a ´sir´ at the end to emulate the others. Would all military service be like this? she thought to herself. Even the voice in her mind spoke meekly and submissively.

---

Schulz looked at cadet with disgust, almost laughing down at the pompous response he got. In fact, he burst into laughter, out loud, ensuring that everyone around would hear his mighty chuckle. To him this was but a trifle of over-confidence, which was a dangerous feat. Schulz knew, as an instructor of many years of experience, that such a behaviour was the righteous path to death under insubordination, if one of the officers hadn't already executed her by then. He continued to laugh, mocking the demeanour presented at him. He began to circle her, chuckling as he did so like a vulture above its catch. In all of his years, these were always the cadets that fuelled his inner anger, giving him the joy of using it on them within reasonable military regulations. And when his encirclement allowed him to stand behind her, Schulz quickly jabbed her in the back of the knee with his boot, ensuring the toe-caps made first contact. From there, he returned to the front, and grabbed the collar to pull her back up without any hesitation.

"The only thing you can do, Adèlyn, is remain no more than dirt beneath the boots of soldiers who'd passed away years before your parents bothered to fuck around and spawn such worthless shit!" His tone was that of a large grin, one that was challenging her previous unimpressed view on his superiority. "It ain't about if you'll do it better than everyone else, its if you live long enough to use my superiority as if it were your deity. If you ain't impressed, then maybe we should give you a show, one for the insecure, unlikable bitch you'll become amongst your comrades?"

With that, he let out another grin, before spitting at her face once more. From there, he let go of her collar and stepped back, looking down upon her with much disappointment in her actions. To him, she could be a promising soldier, if she learnt the ways of one. No one joins the military and slips through it without having their senses indoctrinated to that of a disciplined, compliant and respectable warrior who was prepared to put themselves only on the same level as those around them. Camaraderie went a long way in these trying times, and to go off as a lone wanderer, streaming through every nook and cranny that opened up, would only result in the insubordinate being at the end of a blade or titan's tooth. Deep down, Schulz didn't want any of these cadets to die in battle, and sympathised with them for having the courage to turn up. But if they couldn't face Schulz in the way any other instructor would be treated, then that respect and sympathy was thrown to the hounds of war and he'd gladly abandon them for the skilled individuals he looked for.

"We'll start lightly on punishments. Twelve laps around the courtyard once our lovely introduction has been completed. No more, no less. Fail to do that and I'll make you lick the shit out of my toilet." And just like that, he moved onto the next few cadets.

Going down the line was no difficult task. Savouring the moment to try and break each cadet with petty insults and direct vocalised blows to their past was one way of testing whether or not they were fit for service. To him, the physical didn't matter. If they were sane enough to join, they'd need to bypass his many mental assessments throughout the years of training. When the cadet would crack, and was beyond repair, then they could safely see the underside of his boot to their backside and high-tail out of his established community. Eventually, he reached yet another tall individual, one of blonde, wavy hair and a somewhat average posture. Easy pickings, as it was, and so he looked forth to question him instantly.

"Y'know, being tall doesn't make things easier for you? It makes it far more tricky to avoid becoming a Titan's plaything and pleasure-fucking-meal. Gimme a sorry excuse for a name in which you identify yourself as. Tell me why you're even here, and make it quick. I'm getting tired just looking at you..."

---

Grant's breath held tightly as he was finally approached by the officer and instructor. He'd heard the brutalised and unfair verbal abuse in which he gave Gabriel, now indeed a close friend of his, but it was to be expected. Luckily for the two boys, Uncle Mateo had already been on the case when warning them of how to deal with training. There was no way to get onto the instructor's good side, as he would say, and only a way to avoid getting onto the bad or worse ends of their wrath. First impressions were key in drawing the thin line between either accomplishment or utter failure. And when his name was asked, he began to finally speak in the simplified, yet respectful, manner he wanted to.

"Grant Hyral, Sir. Here to join the ranks, nothing more and nothing less." At that moment, he felt a strange glare dig right into his head. Schulz really did have a piercing gaze that was sharper than the swords many of the soldiers would end up wielding. If only they could employ a weaponised version of this instructor, the Titans would have no leeway to winning any of their invasions. Schulz was a man to be, ironically, respected. As a soldier, he was one of the finest the past had seen, most likely. Having control over instructing and directing the cadets was a privilege and unquestionably respectful set of business. To have survived this far with his achievements as a soldier in the past was definitely nothing to debate over. He was superior.

---

---

He raised an eyebrow towards the fella, who'd given quite a neutral and strangely appreciative response. He was hoping for a reason to pick him out and punish him as the previous insubordinate had done so, but it was nothing of the extraordinary or of any prominence to pick up on. How dull, his mind would somewhat sigh on the thought of a missed opportunity to wrangle out even more of the weakest links.

"Hyral, ey? You that one who keeps sucking on the tits of his Uncle? What is it: Corporal Jutt? Guess that's the only piece of interesting trivia you have going towards your sorry ass. Don't think you're going to be anything special until you prove it with blood, sweat and tears, without shitting yourself of course."

And with that, he moved onto the next cadet. He felt as if he went too easy on the previous one, but there wasn't much to pick up on that would have any lasting effect. Targeting his uncle was just by a stroke of trivial luck he knew of, having a great understanding of the military around him. Everyone with relatives within the Corps already were usually notified when joining anyway, making them easy targets for the Instructors who know they aren't prodigies. The next girl, though, looked just as high as the last cadet, but with a paler and whiter crisp to her image. It was laughable at first glance, at least from the older instructor.

"Well, well, well...You look like you've just seen a fucking ghost. Tell me, am I worse than one or are you too much of a liar to accept the facts? Tell me your name!"

_{@Inkarnate@Jay Kalton}

---

Grief was an emotion Charlie thought she'd never come across at such a young age, until the fall of Wall Maria almost brought her mind to its knees. Her father's death had, unfortunately, been a painful one, according to her mother; with his left leg crushed beyond repair under the rubble of the bakery, Charlie's mother was urged to flee as the footsteps of titans could be heard from around the street corner.

No details were spared. In silent grief for several days, Charlie barely spoke to her mother for five days straight, and even after that the two rarely spoke on a day to day basis. As comforting as her mother had been on that day, that would be the most Charlie would ever see from her, home life being as tense as ever since the fall. The girl felt hollow, empty — day after day, it always felt like a part of her was missing.

Unless she wanted to get into the routine of working herself to death in the summer and almost starving to death in the winter, there was no purpose in staying with her mother anymore, no good reason. So, Charlie left.

Just as mother had always wanted.

---

---

Standing firm amongst soon-to-be soldiers, Charlie observed in slight discomfort at the verbal - and occasionally physical - torment the head instructor was giving many of the other cadets. Taking a verbal beat down was nothing unfamiliar to the girl, although the instructor's rather… interesting comments made Charlie prepare for the worst. She kept her posture tough and straight, only accentuating her height - now almost bordering six feet in the last two years - even more. Charlie made sure to at least breathe as she saw the instructor marching into her direction.

She didn't expect any less from the man. Ignoring the heartbeat faintly buzzing in her ears, Charlie replied to his words, monotone but clear.

"Charlotte Freud, sir. And I assure you that I'm not as mad to have seen anything of the sort, nor do I consider myself a liar in saying that, sir.

Charlie tensed her muscles as she spoke, preparing for whatever sort of response awaited her.