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[reparator]

Who: Cerealians from all over!
When: Various
Where: Various
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GENERAL OVERFLOW
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[goodtome]

[Foolish, he'd been thinking. Brave is a kinder way to phrase it. Armin can't help feeling a little grateful for that interpretation.]

We made it out. That's what matters, isn't it?

[corona]

We did. [ She's still laughing, but feeling less guilty for it now. ] Do you do this often? Run for your life.

[goodtome]

[Oh... that's an uncomfortable question. Armin clears his throat, but he only hesitates for a moment before he confirms it with another nod. Yes, he's had to run for his life frequently. Any drawn out explanation would be unpleasant, though. He keeps it brief and clinical.]

There's a war on.

[corona]

[ Ah. Right. Her mother had plenty to say about war just as she'd had plenty to say about famine, plague, drought, and... well, bedtime stories in their household weren't exactly cheerful. ]

You're - a soldier? [ Her eyes jump to his hands, looking for calluses. ] I mean, I'm - just assuming, really.

[goodtome]

[Calluses she will find. Armin's hands themselves are suited to his body - slim with long, tapered fingers. Delicate. The hands of a pianist, perhaps, in a different lifetime. In his lifetime they've become callused and scarred. Not as badly as many of his comrades. He certainly isn't the one they call first to do the heavy lifting, but he bears his burdens just the same as the others.

His eyes have a certain distance to them. Was it always there, or did it just become that way now? It might be tough to determine if she hadn't been looking for it before. He squares his shoulders, though. The military posture is ingrained by now.]

It's true. I graduated from the 104th division S.

[That won't really mean anything to her, he supposes, but he might as well give her a partial report so she can get a better picture of the stranger she's stranded with at the moment. It seems clear to him that she's a civilian, after all. Though he isn't sure how much protection he'll be able to afford her if anything dangerous crosses their paths. He's unarmed.]

[corona]

[ He's not wrong. There are only two reasons she knew to look at all, with the first being that, through this day of wildly fluctuating intensity, she's nevertheless run into people suited to combat nine out of ten times; Cerealia just seems to attract authority types. No doubt about it. ]

Was it hard? No. That's a foolish question. Forget it. Ah– [ Clearing her voice, leaning forward towards him. ] Is it any easier being... being prepared for something like this? Is that why you're so - brave?

[ The second reason she knows to ask is that she's an artist and she's learned to pay attention, fixing on minutia and nuance. Things like hands and hunches, flinches, scars, and nibbling at lips. Her own hands are perfect, as is the skin everywhere on her body thanks to the healing touch of hair upon her head.

But rather than a blessing, their smoothness is a curse: she's held bleeding hands over bloody paintbrushes one too many times. ]

...Maybe that's a foolish thing to say too.

[goodtome]

It's not supposed to be easy, is it?

[He softens a little again, though. Brave isn't something Armin is used to being called. He doesn't get coward either, which is something, but it's strangely nice to be appreciated in this odd shared experience. She drank the strange liquid too, after all.

The self-doubt she seems to struggle with is clearly different than Armin's own experiences, but it's familiar enough that he wishes he had some useful tool to offer her to cope with it. He's still trying to figure it out for himself, but something that's helped has been his friends.

Maybe he can be friendly to this woman for a moment.]

I guess we're both brave and foolish.

[corona]

Heh! I guess we are. [ Owing to this small, shared moment of camaraderie, she'll allow herself a not-entirely-rare moment of vulnerability, laughing and smiling without restraint. ] After all that, I hope it's not so bad being here. I mean from what I've been told? There's chocolate.

[goodtome]

I don't think I follow, but, does that mean you're new here?

[He's already starting to get used to hearing a lot of things that don't mean anything in his own world. This is just another one to add to the list.]

[corona]

Sort of? [ The correct answer to this question is "absolutely" actually. ] ...Agh. Yes. I'm – I haven't been here for very long.

[ Just then, a wave of nausea rolls through her. The width of her vision goes suddenly black before returning to normal and Rapunzel only barely holds back a groan. ] ...Aaaaand this place is already trying to kill me! Good. That's good.

[goodtome]

[That's something else they have in common, then. Though Armin doesn't get the chance to point it out before she looks sickly again. Armin takes another step back, hardly winning any bravery points just now.]

Maybe you should sit down?

[corona]

H-Heh. [ The look she tosses him is equal parts amused and "thinly veiled scolding." ] You don't have to look that scared. If it happens, I'll turn my head.

[goodtome]

Sorry.

[That was pretty awful, wasn't it. He glances away again, sheepishly. Not sheepish enough that he can help asking a follow up question, though.]

By the way, what's your dominant hand?

[corona]

Heh. Where'd that come from? [ She wipes a bit of grime from the corners of her eyes and shakes mud from her hair; sitting here like this isn't the most comfortable, but at least she's free from mosquito bites and talking to someone new! ] I... I don't know.

When I was a child? I preferred my left hand. But after awhile it... seemed like a waste not to use my right too, and - besides, my... mother didn't much like me using the left. Heh.

[goodtome]

[As a matter of fact, people tend to turn their heads towards their dominant hands when they vomit. It's better left unexplained, though. She'll really think less of him if he admits why he asked that. Armin just shrugs, hoping she'll assume it was idle curiosity.]

Self-taught ambidexterity? That's really impressive. Was it hard to learn?

[corona]

[ At this she frowns, thinking back, carding through memories that blend like fields of wheat in her mind. ]

I... don't think so. Not after awhile. There was all the time in the world, you know, so–

[ Shit. It's doubtful he'd catch that but...

Then again: good soldiers are smart. ]

Time went by very quickly.

[goodtome]

[Armin happens to be in the habit of listening carefully and being almost absurdly observant. He doesn't fully understand yet, but there are gears turning even without his willing them. Sorting patterns, contemplating loose ends.

It's the follow up comment that he focuses on, since it seems to be her attempt at drawing him away from whatever that near admission had been. That's such an odd way to say it.]

What were you waiting for?

1/2

[corona]

[ Drat. She almost seems to hiss under her breath, eyes darting away. Caught already. ]

[corona]

[ Waiting for life to begin? ]

Oh. You know. Just the... same as everyone else I guess! [ Hopefully this intentionally vague answer is enough to allow her some leeway, though she doesn't expect him to drop the lead entirely. ]

[goodtome]

Hmm.

[Age of majority to enlist? In her case, probably not. Not the same as everyone after all, then. It's clearly a personal topic, though. Armin decides to let it slide for the time being. There's no use forcing it when it sounds as if she subconsciously wants to be honest anyway. Maybe there's a reason she feels that she can't be. Maybe something more innocuous.]

Earlier, you asked about my hair. Why did you think it was strange?

[At home Armin is perfectly boring, after all. A bit effeminate yes, but hardly worth a second glance. He can't help but feel curious about that.]

[corona]

Can't you tell? [ This time she feels a bit more confident in her answer, enough to meet his gaze and relax into a smirk. With an arm, she lazily gestures to the length of hair stretching out behind them, winding like golden silk up and over tree roots, under mossy canopies, and through the vines. ]

This is what passes for normal for me. [ Not entirely untrue! She'll congratulate herself on that. ] Why were you going this way when I ran into you?

[ A beat. ]

...Question for question seemed fair.

[goodtome]

[While her hair is indeed impossible to miss, it's a surprise to realize that having hair cut to what Armin considers a normal length is confusing to her.

A knowledge exchange seems like a reasonable engagement. Armin decides to accept that rule.]

It's the opposite of where I arrived. It seemed best to cover the most ground.

[Return questions are tougher. He has many. Deciding which to ask first isn't easy.]

We cut ours shorter so it won't get in the way. Does that not work for yours?

[corona]

[ Well that one was almost too easy, but she smiles wryly anyway. It's sort of...fun? Playing a game like this in spite of everything.

She's probably going to develop gangrene standing in this water but, alas, sacrifices must always be made. ]

A-Ah. Well. IIIIII think you'd be surprised how handy this much extra weight and length can be, Soldier. [ Leaving off with a bit of a mysterious wink here because she's feeling young and silly and she's never done this with another person her age!! ] Where were you coming from exactly?

[goodtome]

[Was that flirting? Surely it's unintentional. Armin blinks, but decides the polite thing to do is probably to ignore it.

Mre importantly, that seems like a waste of a question. Armin points the opposite way, though, back towards where he'd started. She did ask, those are the unspoken rules. He decides to answer a question she didn't ask as well, since she'd used hers on something easily inferred. Perhaps conversation was more of the goal than gaining information?]

Armin. What do you use it for?

[corona]

[ HAHA SHE DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO BE FRIENDLY. She just wants friends and she is trying...... ]

Hey! You didn't answer mine there. [ His skipping out on the question is not by any means going to go ignored. ] Where did you come from? And I don't mean where were you in the swamp.