jean kirschstein. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jeankirschstein) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
destinytown2013-08-29 08:47 pm
jeankirschstein) wrote in destinytown2013-08-29 08:47 pm
Entry tags:
[ snapshots from the 104th ]; jean, armin (spam/log)
[ achoo!
jean can't sleep. this is normal; with tensions running so high this close to graduation day, it's a wonder that any given member of the 104th can manage a good night's rest. even the top cadets—they know who they are—must be feeling it, teetering on the edge. no one is safe. no one is immune.
some surely feel the pressure more than others. jean would like to think he's one of them, given that he's put everything at stake to not only make it out of training alive, but into the military police in the process. into the inner wall...where he can finally relax for a change, take it easy.
that won't be happening tonight. he knew that long before his sneezing stirred the other restless bodies surrounding him, snot trickling from his nose while they mutter in complaint. screw 'em. if he has to suffer out here in the cold, why shouldn't they?
for that matter, what's up with having to be out here in the first place? it'd be one thing if jean's eyes were set on joining the hijinks of the reconnaissance legion in the near future, but that hardly applies to him, let alone the majority of his fellow trainees. most, he figures, probably have their sights set on the garrison. maybe there are a scant few who share his ambitions, though whether or not they're actually up to the job remains to be seen. jean knows he is. he has to be, or it all ends here.
and what a way to end it! trampling about through the frigid, winter air, huddling like mice around an abandoned outpost—who's to say that an eoten or twelve won't stumble upon them in the dead of night, anyway? what good is a little campout a few miles from the wall going to teach anyone about survival, or the rages of war? they'd be better off just tearing the roof off the barracks and leaving it at that, honestly. at least jean would be in better company.
he doesn't know anyone around here. some of his friends were pulled off into tightly-knit (and largely unnecessary, in jean's eyes) patrols hours ago, or dragged to stand watch while the rest of the group settled down for the evening. it'd be nice if jean had been hand-picked for any of those, but of course, he's left both overlooked and to his own devices. is he not good enough, try as he might? he may be no ackerman—beautiful, beautiful ackerman—but that shouldn't mean he'll never get his own chance to shine. ]
To hell with this— [ jean's up in a flourish, much to the complaint of everyone else still struggling to get warm, far from the fires that dot along the outpost. if he can't silently sulk down the long, long road to slumber, then he may as well be up and at it, roaming the campsite like he would be if he were on more familiar ground, with familiar faces at his side to play hooky with him rather than be driven insane by a cacophony of snores in the dark. the girls' dorm doesn't have it that bad, do they?
there are others like him who think they have better things to do in their downtime than catch forty winks. many can be found merely talking amongst themselves, while others nervously peer at their surroundings, not wholly convinced they're going to be safe from an eoten attack. jean isn't, either, but he has faith in the regulars who are keeping peace around here. as long as they and the patrollers are doing their duty, then there's little to fear. it's when daylight shines upon them that they should be at their most afraid, according to what their everyday lessons have taught them.
not in much of a mood to be simply chewing the fat, jean has a grander scheme in mind as he continues his walk. he's half-hoping he'll be able to catch the eye of someone he recognizes among the guard, maybe play a round of cards or two, steal a drink to warm his bones that no one will notice, not this late in the day. it'd be far more effective than the scrap that's supposed to pass for a cloak clinging to him, hand-me-downs from the cadets who survived before him, and before that. can't even afford to give their ready-to-die young soldiers equipment well and truly up to date, can they...? ]
jean can't sleep. this is normal; with tensions running so high this close to graduation day, it's a wonder that any given member of the 104th can manage a good night's rest. even the top cadets—they know who they are—must be feeling it, teetering on the edge. no one is safe. no one is immune.
some surely feel the pressure more than others. jean would like to think he's one of them, given that he's put everything at stake to not only make it out of training alive, but into the military police in the process. into the inner wall...where he can finally relax for a change, take it easy.
that won't be happening tonight. he knew that long before his sneezing stirred the other restless bodies surrounding him, snot trickling from his nose while they mutter in complaint. screw 'em. if he has to suffer out here in the cold, why shouldn't they?
for that matter, what's up with having to be out here in the first place? it'd be one thing if jean's eyes were set on joining the hijinks of the reconnaissance legion in the near future, but that hardly applies to him, let alone the majority of his fellow trainees. most, he figures, probably have their sights set on the garrison. maybe there are a scant few who share his ambitions, though whether or not they're actually up to the job remains to be seen. jean knows he is. he has to be, or it all ends here.
and what a way to end it! trampling about through the frigid, winter air, huddling like mice around an abandoned outpost—who's to say that an eoten or twelve won't stumble upon them in the dead of night, anyway? what good is a little campout a few miles from the wall going to teach anyone about survival, or the rages of war? they'd be better off just tearing the roof off the barracks and leaving it at that, honestly. at least jean would be in better company.
he doesn't know anyone around here. some of his friends were pulled off into tightly-knit (and largely unnecessary, in jean's eyes) patrols hours ago, or dragged to stand watch while the rest of the group settled down for the evening. it'd be nice if jean had been hand-picked for any of those, but of course, he's left both overlooked and to his own devices. is he not good enough, try as he might? he may be no ackerman—beautiful, beautiful ackerman—but that shouldn't mean he'll never get his own chance to shine. ]
To hell with this— [ jean's up in a flourish, much to the complaint of everyone else still struggling to get warm, far from the fires that dot along the outpost. if he can't silently sulk down the long, long road to slumber, then he may as well be up and at it, roaming the campsite like he would be if he were on more familiar ground, with familiar faces at his side to play hooky with him rather than be driven insane by a cacophony of snores in the dark. the girls' dorm doesn't have it that bad, do they?
there are others like him who think they have better things to do in their downtime than catch forty winks. many can be found merely talking amongst themselves, while others nervously peer at their surroundings, not wholly convinced they're going to be safe from an eoten attack. jean isn't, either, but he has faith in the regulars who are keeping peace around here. as long as they and the patrollers are doing their duty, then there's little to fear. it's when daylight shines upon them that they should be at their most afraid, according to what their everyday lessons have taught them.
not in much of a mood to be simply chewing the fat, jean has a grander scheme in mind as he continues his walk. he's half-hoping he'll be able to catch the eye of someone he recognizes among the guard, maybe play a round of cards or two, steal a drink to warm his bones that no one will notice, not this late in the day. it'd be far more effective than the scrap that's supposed to pass for a cloak clinging to him, hand-me-downs from the cadets who survived before him, and before that. can't even afford to give their ready-to-die young soldiers equipment well and truly up to date, can they...? ]
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oh, well. it's better than being given no directions at all, armin hoping he'll catch on to something that seems so obvious. he isn't one for making assumptions, which is good. this is armin, after all, who always had a leg up on the rest of the 104th when it came to critical thinking.
jean would be a fool to pass up the invitation, and though he looks self-conscious while doing so, he's slowly lowering himself down, making the transition into being more horizontal. it's during this that he realizes he has...no idea where to put his arms and legs without getting in armin's way. the best he can do is flatten himself towards the wall, but that still leaves him wondering how to position himself.
in the end he's still relatively hunched, and he looks at armin helplessly. this isn't jean's proudest moment. ]
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Come here. [ is what he finally says once he's calmed down, opening his arms up for jean to move into if he so wishes. ]
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there's still time to abort this mission, back out of it, laugh it off and roll away from armin to simply sleep in silence and never speak of this again. it's not like in training, where jean could use the convenient excuse of just wanting to keep them both warm. this, here, isn't something he'd do for anyone. does armin qualify?
like before, there's a sudden, determined compulsion to see this through. so after working through the logistics on his own, jean's head ducks down, and he lurches as close as he can. this leaves the problem of where his hands should go unresolved, but they should follow suit with the rest of him in due time. ]
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with an arm snugly wrapped around jean's shoulders and another curling over his head, the boy wiggles to get comfortable as he gently presses closer, holding jean closer to his chest. ]
My parents used to do this when I was sad. [ he feels warm at the memory, even though it's faint, a little too hazy from his childhood. ] Then they'd tell me stories about the outside world. About something called the "ocean", like how the water moves on its own, that it has something to do with the moon...
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[ it's a tired mutter on jean's end, as well as the only leap in logic he can take. if most people haven't left the walls in decades—if not longer—how do they know what's out there?
why even take the risk? jean at least has enough tact not to give voice to those thoughts, but it's something to keep his mind off the folds of armin's shirt pressed snugly to his cheek. this is a lot different than when he can't see straight, can't function, needs the solid foundation of another human to literally help him back to his feet. ]
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[ which is more or less true, though again, he casually forgo telling jean that it's also due to a promise between him and eren. still, it goes much further than that, an idle thought as fingers fiddle with jean's hair, a thumb stroking and repeating the gesture several times over. ]
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What's an ocean got to do with water, anyway? [ jean's not putting two and two together here. ]
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Oh, um. The ocean is made up of a large expanse of water. I've heard that it can be millions of miles long, too, and has life inside of it. Things that can swim tens of thousands of feet below. [ he shifts a bit, resting his chin on the crown of jean's head. ] It's amazing, isn't it? That there might be animals that can live in such conditions, despite the pressure being almost unbearable for humans.
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[ he's having a difficult go of trying to wrap his head around such a concept. water comes from the sky, sometimes, when it rains—it can come from the wells within the walls, if you're lucky. but for it to exist someplace that stretches on for miles and miles? jean doesn't want to say it's impossible, won't dash armin's hopes and dreams and what his parents have told him, and yet...it's so hard to picture, so hard to believe.
on the bright side, however, it's doing the trick in putting jean's other thoughts at bay. he's so wrapped up in the idea of animals and water and bone-crushing pressure (and armin too) that it's easy to forget what troubles him, just for a little while.
mission accomplished. ]
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jean can be trusted, though. armin's sure of this. ]
Maybe I can tell you more about it later. I might have a book about it somewhere with my stuff. [ it won't be as detailed as the ones he used to own back at home, but he diligently copied a bunch of stuff down as a child, determined to keep at least some record with him at all times. ]
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ah, there comes reality to knock at his door, ready to smash it down and choke him with thoughts that revolve around his fallen friend and the immediate future. that won't do. ]
S'it like...a bathtub...? [ the longer that he dwells on it, it's the conclusion that jean reaches, wanting to keep the banter light. it clashes with how his face is unconsciously rubbing into armin, but that's of little interest to him right now. ]
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No, it's not like a bathtub. [ that was kind of... cute, in a way, so it leaves armin smiling wider, a pleasant flush adorning his cheeks. ] I'll show you sometime, I sketched it out from one of the books my parents left me.
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[ although he remains skeptical, jean's willing to leave his speculations at that. it would, admittedly, be nice for armin to show him something for a change instead of the other way around. then again...
how will he show him? the happenings in trost may have delayed their departure for a little while longer, but it doesn't change the fact that every trainee is going to have to move on. and unless he's had a revelation over the last week or two, chances are that armin still means to join his friends in the survey corps. what will jean do?
not knowing (or wanting to) the answer for that, jean shuts his eyes and tries to concentrate on continuing his steady breathing. he wouldn't want a sudden, frenzied inhalation to give away the fact that some of his anxieties are lingering. armin doesn't need to know that; he's fretted and fussed enough tonight over someone he shouldn't normally have any business with. ]
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[ everything goes quiet, then, as armin too reflects on his promises of showing jean his treasure. if memory serves him right, they still won't be going in the same direction. in fact, the two would be as far apart from one another as anyone else, seeing as how armin suspects that he'll be out in the field more often than inside the innermost wall.
biting his bottom lip, he thinks about saying something that might or might not be taken the right way. is it safe to think that jean won't take offense? he's slipped up a few times already, ashamed that he wasn't able to word his thoughts right, but maybe, just maybe it'll pull him away from some of the darker thoughts. ]
... you can come with me, if you want. [ pauses, holding on to his friend tighter. ] To join the Survey Corps.
[ it's certainly a sudden declaration, armin knows at least this much, and he'd like to apologize for going off-topic again and potentially diving into one of the problems jean would be facing. sure, armin believes that jean would make a fine officer, but would it be wise of him to jump into something that was special between him and marco? ]
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armin has at least had the grace to phrase it delicately; if you want. even someone as thick as a brick could fish for the meaning behind those words if they really wanted to, but at face value, it's nothing more than a simple suggestion, perhaps a gentle encouragement of what to do and where to go. it's plain as day what plans jean and macro had together, and now that they're permanently separated, it stands to reason that jean's aspirations may not be on the same solid ground that they used to be. it makes sense. there's no speaking out of turn here.
unfortunately, that doesn't cover how jean feels on the topic. is it worth risking his neck out in the open? if memory serves, the soldiers doing recon haven't made any major advances in a long, long time. in humanity's eyes, they're the black sheep of the military, in a manner of speaking. to add to that the potential loss of life and limb, jean never saw it as a profession worth pursuing. why bother with that when you can stay comfortable and safe mingling with—and guarding—high society? he'd once thought that that was his true path, the only life for him. but now...
something killed marco. it was no accident, there's no question of that. but the who and what will never be able to leave jean alone. was it man, or something far greater? and if so, shouldn't he be taking the initiative to put a stop to them all? that isn't easily done if you're skulking on top of the walls, or hidden deep inside of them. no, the only way is force yourself through, force yourself outside, around them.
maybe it was meant to be this way. armin is just the icing on the cake, the sugar to ease the medicine gagging his throat.
he feels a little like gagging now, swallowing it down with a heavy bob of his adam's apple. jean doesn't mean to be so crass when he opens his mouth and says— ] If I do, s'not gonna be for you... [ then he stops, realizing how severe that sounds. ] Guess it wouldn't hurt, though.
[ that...doesn't constitute as a yes, but it's not an outright refusal, either. the decision isn't something to be made lightly, and it's going to take more than armin's persuasion to steer him in the right direction. that being said, it's certainly...inspiring, if nothing else. jean will have a lot to think about before it's time to fully rest. ]
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Of course not. It has to be for yourself.
[ which is a little hypocritical of him to say, what with him following eren and mikasa everywhere just so he can be with them. then again, it was like that for all of them—to stay with each other, support one another. besides, it's not like armin had much else to live for now, other than his wish to complete the tasks his parents had once set out to do.
to do that, however, required skills to go into the outside world. to help eradicate the titans is the only way he would be able to reach his goals, even if he's worthless in battle. at least his brain can be put to good use, which is better than having absolutely nothing else to hold on to.
it's after a good, long stare does he move back into their precious position, wrapping an arm more firmly around jean, a sign of further encouragement. ]
Just think about it. You'll do what you think is right, in the end.
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it doesn't have much of an affect on jean, right away. what unnerves him is when their close proximity really starts to sink in, alongside such words. it's what he'll place the blame on when his eyes shift and his jaw firms up, at once all defiant and reexperiencing the feeling of being chastised like a child again, in spite of knowing full well it's not what armin's reaching for at all.
but it's quick to subside, much as they're quick to resume their previous position. here, jean doesn't feel so self-conscious, because he doesn't have to look armin in the eye, isn't a few centimeters away from doing something very questionable that he thankfully hasn't had the guts to follow through with yet. eventually, maybe, if traditions like these continue, though it remains to be seen. jean still can't weigh up if any of this is being done out of sheer sympathy, or for returning a favor, as this has gone long past the boundaries of casual caring. so far he's remained...okay with it, but that can change at any time.
for now, however, he sighs, grumbles to himself. ] 'course I'll think about it... [ he thought that's what he implied, but it's easy for a lot of things to get lost in translation, especially when they're still getting used to one another.
which is okay, too, just as jean deems it okay to exhale noisily, try not to sound too stirred from such a tight arm, and bury in a little closer, if he can. it's a contradiction of his prior nervousness, but that hardly matters to him in the face of a warm (admittedly appealing) body and a kindness he hadn't initially expected. ]
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then again, armin is also his own person. still, it's hard to ignore the fact that he comes in a set of sorts, two pillars of strength that helped him become who he is today. letting jean in on that is something he'll have to decide on his own, but he's pretty sure he knows where he stands on that at the moment.
if these are their last moments together, however, armin would like to veer off the course of a topic that could potentially drive jean away for good. luck is on his side once the other decides to stay, to move into the hold that armin still has on him. it brings a tiny smile to the blond's lips, taking the time to appreciate the weight of jean's body in his arms, the warmth that radiates from him. he also has a peculiar scent that armin can't completely define, though he still finds it strangely comforting, soothing away any doubts he has for the time being.
it's okay to just be like this, then, isn't it? nobody will be coming in anytime soon, not when they're still shaken up from the ceremony. besides, even if they did, armin is sure that they would be too busy leaning on someone else for support, or avert their eyes away calmly without making a fuss about jean and armin's current position. none of them are cruel enough to break up something that's so intimate, so understandable, given the circumstances.
with that thought in mind, armin closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, beginning to card through choppy brown strands once more. his other hand has settled on pressing in firmly against the expanse of jean's back, his thumb smoothing against his shirt absently. ]
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but is that all there is to it? resting? it seems like neither of the boys has anything left to contribute to the current subject, willing to let it go for another time. that doesn't leave them with much else at the moment, seeing as how jean's already said his fill of marco's memories. if he were still here, it probably wouldn't be so difficult to fill in the silent gaps, always there as something of a mediator to keep things smooth. then again, now wouldn't be a very good time to have a third party here, would it? this space is for jean and armin only, with no interlopers involved.
perhaps, then, it's best to concentrate on what armin can offer, instead of dwelling on any lingering peculiarities of the overall situation. while jean isn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he won't deny that this isn't always something that might be frowned upon, just a little, depending on who you speak to. on top of that, how is it going to be when he and armin part ways, regardless of which branch of the military he's forced into? will they politely overlook what's taken place, never to speak of it, or would they...take it a step further? how much farther can they even go?
it's too heavy of a concept for jean to process right now. the simpler things are less troublesome, like when armin fingers the more closely-cut sections of his scalp, or when the pressure on his back causes him to go strangely boneless and quiet all over again. he couldn't have found all the right buttons to push so quickly, could he? no one ever denies how sharp of a mind that the blond possesses, but still...
a bit embarrassed of how he's responding, all jean can really do is hang on. sluggishly, he'd like to work out a way to...reciprocate, if he can, but nothing's coming to mind for now. ]
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don't think about it. don't think about it— he stops himself short from murmuring it out loud, clamping his mouth shut tightly to resist his body's urge to let it slip. it's not like he was expecting anything else from this, anyway. there's no ulterior motives involved, no manipulation that could potentially work in armin's favor. he'd be too guilty to do something like that, yet he's finding himself more and more drawn to jean as the days go on, more inclined to be in his company, talk to him, touch him, just stay beside him...
ah, what would eren or mikasa say if he tried to tell him how confused he was over these conflicting feelings? would they automatically assume that there must be something strange going on between them? or worse, that there was something wrong with armin himself? it makes him shiver unconsciously, stilling his hands to instead grip a bit tighter onto jean. he understands how irrational that is for him to think, but it still turns the warm feeling he previously had into something more painful, simultaneously cold and hot to the touch.
exhaling a sigh, armin hangs his head and pushes his face into his companion's hair. it's not worth thinking on now. he'll just take the time to enjoy the warm between them, hoping it'll will away the sour feeling bubbling in his core. ]
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his first instinct is barking at him to back off, ask armin if he's okay, if he's cold, if he should get something. after all, what other cause is there? jean's done little past heaving another small sigh into the folds of armin's shirt, and even if he were somehow the direct cause behind it, it'd be beyond his realm of comprehension.
another idea would be to do something to fix it here and now; unfortunately, there aren't many items at their disposal. the bed isn't turned down (sloppy though he can sometimes be, jean too can adhere to the regimen of tidying his bunk like every other soldier), half of their outfits are on the floor or elsewhere, and there are no tattered green garments that jean can pull off of himself to save the day this time.
huh. go figure, it really is like before, isn't it...
thinking on the fly is, at least, something jean is well used to. in retrospect this may be a poor move to pull off on his part. but what's in the future lies in the future. what lies in the present is jean, on top of armin—or will be, anyway, once he can worm his arms and lets into doing what they need to, and coaxing armin in such a manner that it seems maybe partway natural. if he hears a murmured my turn in the process from jean, it's probably just his imagination.
the idea is to be something of a living, breathing blanket for armin, in the absence of wanting to pull away and do the more sensible thing of actually grabbing one. although the theory is sound, in practice, it might not be what jean hopes it will turn out to. ]
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it takes a lot for him to not react in a way that would give jean the wrong impression, staying stiff as a board to adhere to the way he wants to adjust their bodies. his eyes are as wide as they can go, blinking rapidly as he averts his gaze to the side, where jean's head currently rests.
did he fall asleep? he must have fallen asleep, there's no way something like this would be happening— ]
Ah, um... [ armin's trying to think of how to ask why jean's in such a position without sounding ungrateful or put off by it, not yet having grasped the entire situation as a whole. but why put too much thought into it when he's so warm and armin was just feeling a bit chilled? the weight is undeniably comforting, too, something he smiles at as his hands move on their own, grasping lightly around jean's sides. if he's rubbing his face into the closest thing he can touch, well. jean will have to forgive him for that. ] Mm. You're warm.
[ yeah, he's decided that this is okay with him. ]
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[ from jean's vantage, he can't imagine how this could be very comfortable. while he may not match the likes of reiner or other strapping young trainees, their difference in build is still a bit...pronounced, and the last thing jean wants to do is crush armin. which is why, ultimately, he's ended up parked halfway on the mattress and halfway on the other boy. even then, he hopes the weight isn't great...
it must not be, not with such a response. at worst, he'd expected some halfhearted chuckling and a gentle jean, get off to resolve the situation. instead, it's working out better than he expected; this means they won't have to be too disrupted, and prolong their time together just a little longer. jean doesn't know how long they have, how weary armin really is.
maybe it's jean who's sleepy, demonstrated in every movement, his stunted reaction time. when seeing that everything is well and good, he breathes a sigh of relief, the tension leaving him for a moment. it returns in waves once armin's grabbed at him anew, but those are all too easy to overlook in the heat of the moment, such as it was earlier. ]
That was the plan... [ sheepish, he turns his head away. ]
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[ which is more or less true, other than knowing that the potential comforting weight could turn into something that'll press him too firmly into the mattress. that's not a problem right now, however, as armin is too concerned with basking in the contact, the way this is starting to feel so right to him, somehow.
maybe he's already wiggled his way into armin's heart, like eren and mikasa had so many years ago. true, it's not that hard to get the boy to like someone, but this is another step up, one that's generally reserved for people he considers a member of his family. the 104th is more or less his family now, of course, though he can safely say that a few select members have said some rather... off-color things in the past. the good news is that they've redeemed themselves, much like jean, who has grown a lot more than many of their other comrades.
or perhaps he's slightly biased. either way, jean has earned a lot of armin's trust as of late, and a part of him doesn't want to push away the heated glow of affection that's blossomed somewhere deep inside of him. it wouldn't be wise to voice these thoughts, though. no, not now, not when things are still so shaky and unsure. perhaps in the future, when they've matured even more. ]
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he turns to look at armin sidelong, determining if this is just some lighthearted quip, a form of permission, perhaps, or maybe... ] You're just saying that...
[ the safer route is probably their best bet in the long run. despite his continual wondering of how to return the favor (if it even needs to be, if he hasn't already), jean wouldn't exactly know how to proceed, anyway. he's too weary and maybe just a little addlepated to give the notion any serious consideration.
so much has happened today. it's all starting to condense into a nauseating blur, a potent blow when combined with everything mankind's gone through before this. jean has to shut his eyes against it, just for a moment, remind himself that someone's here for him and that while trost may not ever be the same again, and the only thing keeping him going in the corps has long turned to dust by now, it doesn't have to be so bad. he can find new ways to endure, new bonds to form, new paths to follow. ]
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