hopeful hearts are moving targets [open]

[blondtactician]

WHO: Armin Arlert and YOU.
WHERE: All over Heropa.
WHEN: 7/1 - 7/7 or so
WHAT: this loser going places doing things talking to people
WARNINGS: possible discussion of canon/spoilers, descriptions of anxiety/PTSD

7/1 - Tuesday Afternoon at the Library - Closed to Skye

[Armin doesn't know much about computers, and there's a lot to know. He has the basics down, at least, and can use google and Wikipedia like a seasoned pro. He even surfs all the messages from imPorts on his free time, attempting to learn more. But he could hardly be called an expert, especially considering most kids his age have grown up using it.

The woman set up her laptop and was using the Wi-Fi and technically it's against policy to bother people about that, even if they're vagrants just hoping to have a wank by streaming porn. Right to privacy laws are pretty restrictive. Still, Armin can't help but wonder what she's up to - glancing at a screen full of numbers that didn't seem like anything most people got up to here.

Couple that with the numerous complaints from other patrons that the bandwidth was all being used and he found himself wondering.

On his break, Armin sits himself down next to Skye, and says,] Hey. I won't kick you out of here for doing that if you'll show me how.


7/2 - Wednesday Afternoon at the Library - closed to Sansa

[Armin recognizes the red-haired girl from seeing her around on the network. At the time she'd been dressed as a noblewoman. Armin's own dislike for monarchy had made him hesitant to help her, even though, he assumed, she was probably as confused by this place as he'd been at first. After skimming those messages, he'd determine she wasn't in need of his help, as many imPorts offered her insights. He'd been struck at the time by how collected and capable she seemed, but promptly put it out of his mind. Armin had plenty of other things to worry about that month.

Still, she seems to be looking around, and Armin is an assistant to the librarians here. He approaches her and offers a polite smile.] Is there something you're looking for, miss?



7/3 - Thursday evening at the Mall - closed to Kotetsu

[It's just an ordinary day at a local shopping mall. Armin tries to avoid the crowds when he can, but he couldn't resist a rather impressive sale on skin care products he'd wanted to try. Plus, it would be better to get all of this sort of thing out of the way before the weekend and holiday hit, something he's very much not looking forward to. It still strikes him as ironic that anything involving a war or conflict would be celebrated by what sounded like artillery rounds, but there are some things Armin's made peace with not understanding.

He's in a fairly good mood as he heads out the door, when a loud, bright explosion of noise sounds off in the entryway he's headed out. Without a second thought, Armin hits the deck, diving behind a potted plant as some young men about his age set off a chain of firecrackers.

The smell of fire and gunpowder. A loud commotion, and people frightened. It's only for a few moments - and the boys are quickly chased out of the mall for their dangerous disruption - but Armin can't bring himself down from the spurt of adrenalin that's surged through him.

He's sick to his stomach, afraid, and can't think straight. He's shaking too badly even to get out his cell phone and call someone for help, so he just sits there, his hands over his ears. He dropped his bag, too, one of its bottles rolling slowly away.]


Saturday morning on the Bus - 7/5 - OPEN to the first reply

[It's early morning and already starting to get hot. Armin is reading a huge hardback volume he has to rest gently on the seat in front of him, his ears covered by headphones blasting something loud and guitar-heavy. He's perfectly contented in his own little world until the bus lurches to a stop, and a team of police officers swarm the bus, hauling off a screaming suspect in hand cuffs. A scene plays out on the side of the road as he struggles.

Armin glances to his cell phone for the time. It's too far for him to get to work on his own at this rate. Nothing left to do but hope things are resolved quickly. He pulls off his headphones, trying to hear what's going on a little better.]

What is going on....


Sunday - 7/5 - OTA

CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE!


Monday Afternoon at an Indian Restaurant - 7/6 - CLOSED to Jean

[There's something about buffets that always both awe and depress Armin a little bit. So much food, freely available for cheap, and all of it delicious. It would be easy to eat oneself sick. But seeing the locals waddle over to the ice cream machine for yet another cup of vanilla mango swirl can put a damper on one's appetite. Still, Armin enjoys this place, happily situated between both the library and Jean's place of employment. Much of the cuisine from the continent of Asia avoid dairy, a boon for Armin's delicate stomach.

He's happy to see Jean - technically, he ambushed the guy and insisted on taking him to lunch - even if he's still getting used to spending time with his friends in these sort of contexts. There's something about the electric lights, the tinny, ever-present music that makes it all seem surreal. Armin sops up some curry with a corner of naan, glancing up at his friend.]

So. What have you been up to?

Comments

[isaytheeneigh]

I've been trying to make up my mind about a few things.

[Aside from organizing a group to keep an eye on imPort events, that is, but that's old news by now. Jean pushes the meat around on his plate, choosing to ignore the other people there. The smell of Indian food is overwhelming, and the various spices are the same. That isn't to say he minds it, but he's choosing to "savor" it.

Still, he's probably made a couple remarks about how it has too much taste. This is Armin's fault, obviously. And sometimes Jean doesn't know what to keep to himself.]

And whether to talk to you about some of them. [He stabs a piece of meat with his fork, eyeing Armin to see if he can read his reaction.

The thing about Armin is that sometimes it's just not that easy for Jean. That makes him more frustrating, even if he's a good guy. (Or was. Sometimes, he wonders if it's a "was" these days.)]

[blondtactician]

[Armin only rolled his eyes about Jean's comments about the flavor. He \expected it and took him here anyway, after all. There's a prank someday waiting to happen involving hot sauce in Jean's future, truly, but Armin won't be the one to enact it. Probably.

Armin looks Jean in the eye, genuinely curious.]

Well, you can't say something like that and expect I'll let you keep me in the dark about it.

[isaytheeneigh]

[There are a few directions that Jean can take this, knowing that Armin doesn't know what he's thinking about. He chooses not to take any of them. Being direct, being himself, definitely sounds like a benefit right about now.]

I spoke to Annie at the last swearing in. See, I've been thinking about it for a while. [It had been weeks since that happened.] I asked her about Marco. What do you think she said?

[blondtactician]

[Armin withdraws. Erwin would criticize him for showing his emotion so obviously. He breaks eye contact, he sits back further in his chair. His hands, which were languidly picking at his food, now reside directly in front of him, twisting up a napkin in fidgeting, worrying fingers.

He doesn't want to talk about Marco at all. He's a little angry, suddenly, as if Jean has invaded some personal space of his, which of course isn't a fair thing to feel. Marco was Jean's friend too, and surely it resonated him with more strongly. Armin is an orphan, Armin lost so much before training and then at Trost. How dare he feel sad about something as inevitable as losing a friend? He allowed whatever grief he felt over losing Marco as his friend to be almost overshadowed in his failure not to bring Annie to justice when he had the chance, as if his death had gone completely to waste because of his hesitance. And of course that's ridiculous, because there was never going to be any making sense of it, never any real reason. Still, it's easier to be angry at himself for his failings than it was to admit to himself how much missing him hurts. It's as though Jean's thrown open a door of a long-locked storage closet, and the dust and stale smell rushing out is making him sick.

If Armin were someone else, someone brash, he'd snap Don't fucking talk to me about him, or Why the hell would you ask her about that, but, he's not. He's Armin, and he tries to think of why Jean would ask him this.]

I'm guessing whatever it was came as a shock. What did she say?

[isaytheeneigh]

What she said came as a shock, you know? What you told me before, you sounded so damn sure, so I didn't have any reason to doubt you.

[He moves the chicken around under his fork. Jean knows that he shouldn't be doing this to Armin, and he's always been under the impression that Armin cared for Marco a lot. They took care of their equipment together, anyway, while Jean had always tried to manage that stuff alone. He's had friends and comrades in his fellow trainees, but he isolated himself with some of his future plans. Even if Marco intended to follow the same path, he was so damn noble about it that it was nothing like Jean.

It was unrealistic. That's what it was.]

That isn't to say I can just trust it ... or trust her reaction, but it's not like she fucked around. Annie doesn't do that. She hadn't expected that I'd say that, that I'd suggest she'd kill Marco. I'm sure of it. What do you think that means?

[It's at this point that he makes sure to hold Armin's gaze.]

[hackitude]

[Skye's reflexes when it comes to this kind of thing are lightning fast. Blink and you'll miss it, but Skye switches the screen with the press of a button to something that looks almost identical from afar or at a glance to what she was just doing-- but it's some kind of harmless text-based RPG game. The lines of code are replaced with lines of "choose your own adventure" text. She turns to look at Armin with a raised eyebrow-- the look of incredulity she gives him is actually pretty good.]

... Excuse me? You're going to kick me out for playing a game on my laptop?

Hang on, don't I know you from somewhere? ... Aren't you the kid that's supposed to be living in my house but never actually is?

[blondtactician]

Um, maybe? You know who I am?

[Armin blinks. Wait, if she's good with computers, that sort of thing shouldn't be much of a challenge for her, right?]

I'm sorry if that's an inconvenience. I've been living with other people from my world, since I was having trouble adjusting when I first came here.

[He's not convinced she was simply playing a game, anyway, but he can't prove that for the time being. At least if she thinks she might've gotten caught at misbehaving, she might not do it again?]

[hackitude]

[Skye's expression softens a little, at that. She's moved houses and families so many times that she no longer has trouble adjusting anywhere-- most new things roll right off her back. But that wasn't always the case.]

... A little. I admit, I looked you up 'cause I wanted to know who our mysterious no-show housemate was. Your name's Armin, right? ... I'm Skye. And it's no inconvenience. Are you still having trouble?

[blondtactician]

Nice to meet you, Miss Skye. [Armin offers a pleasant smile, being deferential to her because she is older and in spite of their almost-roommate status, they are strangers.]

I'm doing alright. This job has been helpful - having unlimited access to books is a very new concept to me. It's too bad I can't get paid to memorize the entire nonfiction section. I'm still trying to get the hang of computers and telephones though.

[hackitude]

Wait-- what. You don't have access to books where you're from? [Skye looks appropriately horrified.]

That's barbaric.

[yseult]

[ If there was one thing that Sansa appreciated about this world, it was the fact that so much that there was to know about it was written down in books. While she was peripherally aware that there was, in fact, bias in the books themselves, they seemed so much more trustworthy than people. And if they were deeply biased, there were dozens of other volumes on the subject that she could consult. She had never considered herself such a bookworm, but then again, she had never had such a wide variety at her immediate disposal before. She wondered if the Citadel even contained as many tomes as this single library.

It was not her first time visiting the library since her arrival, but it was still a bit overwhelming. Previously, the librarians had helped her find some more introductory-level history books-- ones that were written for elementary school students, truthfully, though they had been quite helpful at easing her into this strange new world's history. She had scrawled some notes about subjects that had piqued her curiosity, and she clutched the paper in her hand as she looked about, seeking the woman who had helped her during her previous visit.

She blinked as she found herself approached by a boy who appeared close to her own age. ]

Oh, yes. I'm afraid I don't really know my way around here, yet...

[blondtactician]

[Armin smiles and gestures to his name tag.] I'm Armin, I can help you find anything to you need.

[He leans in, not quite invading her personal space. He only wants to keep his voice too low to be overheard.] I saw you before on the network.... I'm an imPort too, from a world less developed than this one. If you want some tips on where to start, I can help with that too.

[yseult]

[ Her fingers fidgeted absently with the paper in her hand and she gave a small smile, obviously relieved to have some assistance. Her expression turned to a faintly surprised one at the offer. ]

Oh, yes. That would be quite helpful, truthfully.

[blondtactician]

I'm here to help. [Armin assures her with a nod.] Sansa, isn't it? It looks like you've already got a list of subjects you want to look into? Where shall we begin?

[That's encouraging. He's always happy to help patrons who come in with a little more idea of what they want than 'I need this for a paper due yesterday and I picked the subject blindly off a list' or 'I think the cover was blue'.]

[yseult]

Are you this helpful to all imPorts?

[ She makes the question sound innocuous enough, even smiling a bit as she asks. It's nice to think that he might genuinely be that kind, but she still holds an innate suspicion toward the motives of others. If someone is trying to earn her trust for the sake of manipulating her, she would prefer to figure that out sooner rather than later. ]

I was hoping to find some more books on this world's history. And, ah, science.

saturday

[acclimatized]

[ with a seat separating them, john hadn't noticed armin until things started kicking off. he had been quite content looking out the window as his own playlist drowned out the rest of the world. he was used to public transport; albeit trains more than buses, though he'd been making an effort to cycle more lately... until his wheel got a puncture yesterday.

no one else seems to hear armin's question and he recognises him as the boy from the network. as their fellow commuters flock over to the window, it's john who leans forward and replies: ]

According to that bloke, they've got the wrong guy.

[blondtactician]

He might be telling the truth. [Armin shuts his big, heavy book carefully, resting it on his knees awkwardly.] If he knew the police were after him for some crime, I doubt he'd be riding along on a bus waiting to be discovered. Then again, he could just be that stupid. I guess that's what a trial's meant to determine.

[Armin gives the older man a second glance.] You don't usually take this bus in the morning, do you? I hope you're not running too late.

[acclimatized]

Maybe. But then I've heard about criminals who have drawn masks on their faces with sharpie as a disguise.

[ john shrugs, giving him a smile. ] My bike got a puncture. I couldn't be bothered to fix it last night, so I decided to take my chance with the bus. Typical.

[blondtactician]

And I thought the passengers who spit cherry pits on the floor were bad. [Armin shakes his head.] Do you work around here?

[acclimatized]

The hospital. If this takes any longer, I might just get out and walk it.

What about you?

hi i'm here finally

[earnedmystripes]

[Kotetsu was on his way out of the mall himself, a plastic bag slung over his shoulder, when the firecrackers go off. His head snaps toward the sound, over a decade's worth of experience in dealing with emergencies preparing him to react before he sees the source. The kids are thrown out before Kotetsu can lecture them on how dangerous it is to light firecrackers inside, and he's about to continue on his way when one of Armin's bottles lands at his feet.

He looks out across the way, trying to figure out where the bottle came from (there weren't any stores nearby that had bottles out on display outside, so it must belong to someone), when the kid hiding behind the potted plant catches his eye.

Kotetsu is careful in his approach, footsteps loud and deliberate so as not to startle him further by announcing his presence, and he kneels down next to him, voice and expression soft.]

Hey, you okay?

hello friend

[blondtactician]

I - [Armin's voice comes out a squeak. He has trouble focusing his gaze on the man in front of him. It's no one he knows, but so far the older man doesn't seem too threatening.

He doesn't move his hands from over his ears. Everything about this place is too much for him, the noise, the lights. He can't seem to force himself to move or stand up. Breathing alone is difficult, he has to concentrate just to bring himself the oxygen he needs in sporadic spurts.]

I'm not hurt.

[Saying he's fine would be a lie, though.]

[earnedmystripes]

[Kotetsu recognizes that posture, has seen it a fair few times on his partner in the past few years he's known him. He doesn't have the words to label it for what it is, to judge that Armin was triggered by the firecracker, or that he's having a panic attack, but the panic itself is something he comprehends. He doesn't move, doesn't try to reach out and touch the kid, and nods, slowly. His voice stays in that low, soothing register.]

Mhmm, you're safe.

[He doesn't know what exactly is wrong, but he tries to emphasize safe. You're safe with me, is what his expression telegraphs, I won't let anyone hurt you.]

It can't be too comfortable to sit there, though, huh? Why don't we go inside and find a nicer place to sit?

[blondtactician]

[Armin swallows several times, trying to get his trembling lower lip and useless tongue to form proper words. He tries to remember what Erwin told him to do the last time something like this happened. His fingers twitch and flex over his ears as he struggles to move them. He manages to spread them a little so he can hear a little better.

The smell gunpowder still drifts through the otherwise cool, sanitized air.

But it lacks that heavy, red smell of blood, and the white smell of flesh and titan steam.

Safe.

That's arguable.]

No guns? I heard...

[Armin shakes his head.] I'm not sure. Sounded like a gun, but no one's been shot... that I can see.

[Armin finally moves his hands, straightening up to look around a little.] Could use a better view of the exits.

[earnedmystripes]

[Ah--

Kotetsu shakes his head, quickly. He still doesn't reach out, doesn't make any sudden moves, but now he thinks he knows what the problem is.]

There was no gun. Some kid just had the bright idea of setting off a firecracker indoors. They got kicked out, and no one's hurt.

[He smiles, softly.]

Everything's okay, promise.