maskormenacelogs | [ closed ] when it's just hard to make it through another day

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[ closed ] when it's just hard to make it through another day

WHO: Karen Starr & Annie Leonhart.
WHERE: Victoria's Boutique.
WHEN: August 12th.
WHAT: Who doesn't love lingerie stores? ... Annie. Annie does not. But with the amazing assistance of the one and only Karen Starr, Annie will refuse to use any traceable form of payment and actually upgrade her undergarment department! After getting measured. And questioned by the one and only amazing Karen Starr. "So, about being a titan..." There's no way this could ever go wrong.
WARNINGS: Potential spoilers. Horrors of Victoria's Boutique. And My Bra. (Which is touching when you realize what the artist felt it was a metaphor for, but anyway...)

[ Annie seriously hopes she's not actually spending three hundred dollars today, but Karen had insisted that women's lingerie was expensive, and if Annie was going to insist on paying in cash, she'd need to come prepared.

Shit, this alone is why shopping isn't worth it. Not that personal tailors are more affordable... or even desired. She has her meeting with Kanaya in about a week, and she's dreading what correcting you fashion oversights might include.

As it is, she keeps an eye out for Karen while resolutely crossing her arms over her chest, not thinking about how much she probably had to learn about lingerie in this day and age, too! It should all just function like back home... If the sizes didn't end up being inconsistent as hell. Modern convenience her ass. ]

Hello, Karen.

[ Nope still not waving, still standing here in her dark green hoodie with her arms crossed looking resigned as she glances through the feather and pink and fur in the stores windows, this side of the doors. ]

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[ She sees no reason to rush Annie or make the choices for her, so she continues to scope out the other tables for herself. By the wall nearest them hangs various, fuzzy slippers of pastel pink and purples. Some have animals designs, such as feline whiskers or a mouse's nose sewed along the toe, and others have frilly bow ties attached instead. How retro.

She picks up a pink pair of slippers with the cat whiskers, feeling the inside to determine comfort. ]

There's got to be a colour you do like or wear often back home.

Or you can get different colours and see which one goes better with you.

[ She thinks the red and sky blue would flatter Annie best. ]

What's the fashion like back home?

I'm not someone who would know what the fashion was like... I didn't follow those kinds of things. It's all simpler than here. Bright colors like these are expensive, but so is black. The dyes fade over time.

[ She says, like it's explanation enough. Annie is aware of fashion in the sense that she can spot what's closer to the nobility and richer mercantile families' tendencies to wear. Those events where they do... it's just different. If she had more time, had managed to get further into the heart of the human empire, Annie would have learned more. She observes enough to have picked up on those trends if she'd been exposed. Stohess was simply on the fringes, so while the more complicated fashions and brighter colors could be found, it still wasn't like life inside Wall Sina, not quite. ]

I wore whites most often. Whites and cream.

[ Because uniforms are a thing, and spending most her time in uniform meant whites and browns and her own voluntary cream. ]

Greens and browns and greys when off duty. It never really mattered.

[ They were the most common colors, and the least remarkable. Annie didn't stand out in a crowd.

Nor does she see the point in what "looks best" with her - she ends up picking up the blue, red, black, and the strange looking reindeer. They're sort of on a cream... mostly, she thinks the deer look odd. It's novel. The rest she carefully puts back where she'd pulled them out from. ]

I should be finished.

[ So she was mainly in uniform back home. Well, that makes a lot more sense to Karen. She takes the slippers with her, re-approaching Annie. ]

You'll learn. Once you start experimenting with colors and different kinds of clothing you'll figure out what you like to wear best.

[ She looks down at the items in her own arms and then lifts her head, nodding toward the cash register where the cashier works quietly and almost in boredom. ]

I'm going to go ahead and pay for my stuff. If you want to keep looking around, go for it.

[ She should stop picking up items from the tables and walls otherwise she'll be going beyond the budget she set for herself. With a business in the making, every penny of hers counts and besides, she has a business partner who is depending on her just as she is on him financially. ]

[ She has a feeling she'll stick with what's comfortable, branching out into whatever becomes necessary to follow expected standards. A uniform is a uniform, no matter how different in appearance from the ones she knew back home, or the ones she's learned to recognize here. Regardless, it's nothing that needs to be said out loud, and so she falls into silence, merely watching Karen move by and falling in line behind her.

The salesgirl notices them moving to the register, flashing a bright smile and moving to meet them there. She ducks down, riffling through catalogues there to pull out one, set it on the countertop, and pull out another. She takes the first one and places it back underneath the counter, standing and flipping through until she reaches whatever she's looking for. These are the styles I was telling you about, she says to Annie, gesturing to her smaller portion of the counter for Annie to set her things on.

The girl working the register gives them a oblique look of curiosity, focusing her attention - and a small smile - on Karen as she asks if there's anything else she's looking for today.

Annie's conversation with the salesgirl is brief. Something for sports, yes, yes, if you say, that would be fine, no, not that one. Black for that, yes, that's fine, of course. My address? Ah, that is... Only these, for now. Thank you.

The orders are placed, set to deliver to the townhouse in Nonah, and Annie looks a little more tense and wound up again. She keeps it off her face, keeping her voice calm and steady, but there's a stiffness in how she holds herself that say she's done with this.

Getting through it, finished, and then relieved; once she's been handed her receipt, her shoulders relax a fraction. Karen hadn't been wrong. The women here haven't been aggressive in sales, and it's more relaxing that way, less of an imposition on her mental space.

The bag's a bit much, with the tissue paper and the rest packed into it, but it's not unusual. It's almost pretty, when she looks at it, glad this whole endeavor is coming to an end, as far as she knows. ]

They were polite.

[ She says, on exiting the shop. It's her first, indirect thank you. ]

[ The tissue paper crinkles inside the bag as it swings lightly with her every step. She adjusts her grip on the thin, rope handle as they step out of the shop, then focuses on her other bag that's slipped down to her elbow, pushing it back up to her shoulder.

Annie's commentary surprises her. It's as if the concept of common decency is foreign to her. As Karen thinks on it, maybe, just maybe, she should not be too taken back by this fact; Annie's world may be a harsher one than she knows. If they are fighting for survival against these titans ― something Annie and her two friends happen to be, which gives her reason to suspect their upbringing or recent lives have been filled with nothing but fear and skepticism. Perhaps in Annie's world kindness, even in a shop, is not entirely expected or prevails. ]

They have to be on the job, otherwise they lose commission and probably get an earful from their manager.

You good?

[ It's all taken from an angle that sees what happens for people who aren't in places that can afford the niceties; Annie's exposure to cities has always been in relation to her status as a refugee or as a soldier in training. The closest city near the district she'd trained in out East hadn't provided her with more than a groundwork to watch and observe; the military provided most basic necessities, and by the time she needed more of those, she was already enlisted.

C'est la vie.

She inclines her head toward Karen, glad that this (small) hurdle has been jumped. ]

Yes, thank you. Still seems... nicer than some places I've been in.

[ She's run into all kinds of stores with all kinds of management styles. They're not always beneficial to a reluctant shopper. ]

There's a different kind of affluence around here compared to anything back home.

[ Here they go.

Karen's been waiting for this window of opportunity. She isn't afraid to boldly demand answers out of someone, but she has her doubts a tactic like cornering a young girl who's let more than a cat out of the bag is going to work. She's convinced doing so would only get Annie to close herself off.

She tilts her head to express her undivided attention has fallen onto Annie. ]

How much of a difference are we talking?

[ She has something more of a ready answer after all this time than she did originally. Annie holds her bag out from her side, making sure it doesn't wing back against her leg as she walks. It cuts down on unnecessary noise, leaving her walking more quietly in the dappled sunlight cutting through the buildings around them.

She steps over a crack on the sidewalk, glancing out across the street. ]

Close to what you'd recognize as pre-Industrial revolution, in this country. More of our architecture reminds me of images from older towns and cities in Europe... plumbing isn't well developed, though we have field irrigation. We have coin, but most the population in the outskirts of the human empire get by on bartering. The only ones who can afford to think in rich colors are those with deep pockets, which makes it the smallest number of nobles and merchants who've made a name for themselves and their families over the last few decades. Even the population of any one large city here...

[ Annie frowns. It's part of what unnerves her, what she says next. ]

Is larger than the known population of the surviving human empire as a whole.

Edited 2014-09-02 19:40 (UTC)

[ She doesn't speak like your typical teenager, but given what she's told Karen so far of her world and what glimpses of herself she's allowed Karen to see, other than the obvious, Annie and any one of those kids from her world are not your "typical" teens.

Annie Leonhart, Bertholdt Hoover, and Reiner Braun especially.

She squints against the occasional sting of sunlight reflected off window displays and hover cars gliding on by. Her bag continues to crinkle, though its noise is drowned out amidst the other civilians going about their day, cars passing through, kids on hovering skateboards, and the occasional yap from a scrappy looking dog. ]

Annie.

[ Karen's tone is firm, but not harsh. ]

[ Her attention slides to the side, blue eyes settling on Karen, watching. There's no vocalization - Annie is more prone to holding quiet over speaking without anything to say.

Karen says her name. She says it with that tone of voice, and she gives the older woman her attention.

Yes? There's only the slight lift of her eyebrows to convey that question.

Say my name, say my name... ]

[ She stops walking, allowing the trio of women and the one boyfriend belonging to one of them to walk further up and out of earshot before Karen speaks up.

She can't help a frown. ]

I saw your post.

[ Ah... Annie stops when Karen stops, waiting for what comes next. What does isn't expected, though surprising, on another level. She came out with her here... Annie wonders what it is she's looking to find out.

It's too easy, sliding from awkward encounter into wary, calm, observational. Annie is not a social being.

But she is a watcher. And she is, above many things, pragmatic when it comes down to it. ]

You did your back watching.

[ This is new. Changed since before, and Annie notes it out loud, as an obvious statement. But she doesn't add anything else. Karen broached the subject.

Annie will wait to see where it is she wants to go. ]

[ Now that she's come out with it, she's re-evaluation her decision to "corner" Annie on a public sidewalk. Truth be told, she doesn't want to corner her, though it's beginning to feel like such. Uncertainty crosses her face, but she's quick to shake it off.

It's her voice that betrays her. Damn. ]

The network gets a lot of chatter, but it's worth reading. [ And it's no hassle for someone like her. ] Were you being honest in that post?

[ Annie examines Karen, face falling into neutral lines. She keeps her posture relaxed, turning that question over in her mind. She can be impulsive, but rarely, and even more rarely without realizing the cost of what she's gambling with following that impulse.

There's no point in being coy. There never has been. Ah, but to keep what she says from meaning too much to anyone who doesn't already know? There are eyes, and ears, everywhere.

Annie meets Karen's gaze. She's not uncertain. She's quiet. ]

I think... that I have to say yes. And I mean yes, too... but not knowing what it is you most want to verify as honest from me, saying either of those things can be chancy, can't it?

[ Annie didn't qualify everything. There's enough she didn't say, or didn't disclaim, or flat out failed to respond to that can make what she has said stand out in contrast.

Were you being honest in that post? On the past, as honest as she could afford to be. Cutthroat in her pursuit of pushing people away, warning them off.

Honest in her desires going forward. ]

That's true.

[ She's not helping anyone here by her own ambiguity. While a believer of second chances, Annie and her friends had not just admitted to being something other than human and dangerous, something so many of her friends and allies could be labeled by those who didn't know them well or were paranoid.

No, it's that Annie, Bertholdt, and Reiner have admitted they are responsible for a third of humanity's population dying. Innocent people trapped behind these over-sized walls they had built to protect themselves from the man-eating titans.

But Annie's remarks about their king haven't been forgotten.

"... refugees were marched out a year later on the king’s order."

Her lips thin, eyes narrowing. ]

That you're going to stick by your promises. I don't know much about your world and your reasons for doing what you did, but if really do want a second chance, you can't go back on your word. Your friends, too.

[ There's a part of her that wants to refute the comment about her friends. They aren't, and so far, to her, they aren't. They are allies, comrades, people close to hearth and home. They're not friends.

What in the world are friends, other than what it is you lose in being honest with everyone? If they're sane enough to go. When they're not...

She doesn't disclaim the friendship. It's not hard to see Annie shutting down, a certain grimness entering her expression. ]

I know. We know. We will.

[ Even Bertholdt. Even the one who had the least trouble with what lives they've lived. They can't isolate and be forgotten. They made it impossible for some to ever forget.

It's hard. Moving forward is hard. Having that expectation... knowing it's there to be found, and heard, and reviewed. Knowing their report to the government was more detailed than anything told to the imPorts, and even then, there is so much they couldn't say.

Isolation is easier. If all it breaks is her heart, then wouldn't that just be like never having one in the first place? ]

We will be the perfect model citizens. Registered... and at the government's mercy. Frightening, if you think about it. Necessary, but frightening.

[ The king's dynasty extends back four thousand years... and we only have records of the last hundred seven years. One family's word. How much can we all believe?

When Titans are the Walls, how much should anyone believe? ]

You don't need to be registered.

[ Karen states matter-of-fact, cocking her hip to one side and resting her free hand against it. Her shopping bag in her other hand sways slightly, paper and plastic crinkling again. ]

You only need to make good on your word.

[ In many ways, Karen owed Ultra-Humanite something after accidentally throwing him into chemicals that had doused him, burning off his fur and flesh, nearly rendering him disabled and only sending him down another spiral of madness.

Atlee's people had been able to help him and restore his mind. He didn't know what to do with himself and so, as Power Girl, she decided a second chance was worth trying.

It might be a similar case with Annie; she is something in her world that she can't or doesn't want to be here. She came clean for a reason. ]

Who put you up to the confession?

[ Yes, they do. In order to be in a better position than what they'd be in otherwise, they need to be Registered. If it sounded like Annie believed Registration proved anything... she didn't. But she's allow the misconception to stand.

Karen's question breaks that neutrality: Annie's confused, momentarily, and it shows. ]

No one.

[ No one other than the three of them benefitted from confessing. The rest of the Survey Corps could get away with murder, so to speak, as long as the shifters were undercover. No one could have put the pressure on them at present other than themselves. ]

Is that what you think? That someone put us up to that?

[ She laughs, soft and breathy, something that hurts her chest and cuts off abruptly, Annie's gaze falling to the ground. ]

No one has that hold over us but us. We decided to confess... give us that much credit. We all knew what it'd mean. Knew what bonds it'd break. It's better that way... better to be honest at the cost of passing for human, questions unasked. Who put us up to the confession?

[ She shakes her head, but that's really enough as far as she's concerned. Annie turns around, moving her wrist to keep the bag off her side as she does. She sees no reason to stay for this. At least... no reason to stay still. What she asks in turn is only asked of herself, a soft utterance. ]

Does a conscience count?

Edited 2014-09-06 04:30 (UTC)

[ Sympathy eases into her firm expression. Maybe she isn't giving Annie and friends enough credit, but it's difficult to give them anything when their reasoning for wiping out a third of the human population is relatively up in the air.

A terrible thought crosses her mind: what if Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt don't know why they were ordered to do it? It sounds as if they were coerced, based off the public conversations she read, so what if whoever ordered them to break the walls never revealed the intentions behind it? ]

It does. [ She says softly with a nod. ] It also makes you more human than you or anyone might think.

[ Annie hesitates. She doesn't so much turn back to face Karen as look over her shoulder. ]

I know I'm human. Too human to be the monster I was trained to be.

[ There are no illusions there, but nothing more to say. Being human hasn't saved her.

Being a monster wouldn't have either. It just might have made her a success, that's all. ]

Or the one that I was turned into.

[ Karen looks up and down the street; there's another group of friends headed their way, so it's time to get off the sidewalk and somewhere quieter, where privacy is afforded. She bends her arm, beckoning Annie with a finger to follow. ]

You weren't always a titan?

[ She could walk away. Would have, under different circumstances, ones where she and Bertholdt and Reiner hadn't said if you have questions, you know how to find us. It's a chilling reality they'd stepped up to and engaged, pointing out that they weren't hiding. They couldn't hide here.

Someone would always be able to find them out.

She hesitates, following Karen after a beat, feet steady on the concrete. ]

Titans aren't born. They're made.

[ More or less. They couldn't be born, they weren't complete creatures, but the hows of their making have never made sense to Annie. There's too many variables involved... and differences in when people were forced to turn Titan, or how it was that came about. There's a lot of terror tied in to the concept, and a terror deeper down on what it means to lose your mind and get lost in the nightmare for decades.

Titans certainly didn't age. It was a strange sort of preservation that happened for those unable to wake. For most everyone. ]

When and how are complicated answers.

[ Made.

Experimentation... or so implied.

The idea disgusts Karen and she doesn't bother masking it; her expression darkening as they head down the street. Her eyes bounce from building to building, trying to find the appropriate shop for the two to make a pit-stop at and talk in private. ]

Someone did this to you? And your friends?

My comrades. We're only friends here... it's a recent development.

[ A soft admission, too; she's not correcting to be stubborn, but to highlight something else yet again. We weren't friends before. They're not all part of a united front anywhere other than here. ]

Bertholdt and Reiner... I don't know what they remember. My father made that decision for me when I was younger. I always knew what was in store.

[ Pointless. Useless. Inevitable, the pull of these pointless, useless ideals. Her father's arms around her, apologizing after everything's too late.

I'm sorry.

Make the world your enemy.

Remember, your father is always on your side.

Annie gives a shake of her head, unaware of how her shoulders hunch up as she picks up her pace, heading nowhere in specific. If Karen doesn't decide where they're going, Annie might just walk on forever. Her tone through all of this is factual, detached; Annie holds a lot of herself away from what emotions might make of everything she says.

Reserved and at a distance, compartmentalizing. It's how she's survived. ]

Titan shifters aren't the same as Titans. You make us in different ways... but one of the easiest is to feed a shifter to a Titan. When they die, the ability passes on to the one that consumed them. We weren't making light about our actions being about our own lives or deaths. Failure isn't tolerated.

I remember growing up. Berthold and Reiner don't.

[ Make of that what you will, Karen. ]

[ She hasn't selected a place yet; every little store she looks at has customers and the small cafe they pass has a line nearly out the door. She keeps going forward, her eyes jumping from shop to Annie at her side.

And she listens closely to every word from Annie's mouth, her expression twisting in all sorts of ways as she thinks about the process Annie's described.

Unpleasant isn't quite the word for it. ]

So you... consumed a shifter and became one yourself? Is that how it works?

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ONE WORD TAGS... i'm sorry

you're totally fine, i gave you a no word tag

i just wanted it to be dramatic

it was a nice bit of dramatic flair

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