[Aubrey stands with. At the mention of Armin not knowing what she knows, she glances Eren’s way; it’s not as though most of what he’s told her has seemed like a monumental secret, not to mention that memory on the screen…
[Still. She’s seen more than Armin might expect. And he doesn’t need to be freaked out (surprised, caught off guard, who knows how he’d react) by any near-death stories.]
[Aubrey picks her words carefully.] Eren’s told me about the titans, and that people can turn into them… [In a token effort at casualness, she takes off her jacket and starts wringing it out. Still weird to her that the handprint didn’t stick, but it’s for the best....] You must be one who can control it.
[Pretending to examine her jacket (and thus not meeting his eyes), with this one:] I’ve been surprised by worse.
[Armin nods. He's grateful that Aubrey isn't meeting his eyes; he wouldn't be meeting hers either.]
Yes, that's right.
I inherited my titan's power...
[All at once, Armin feels...subdued. Far away. Isolated, or...maybe trapped is a better word. He's lying on a rooftop, staring up at the sky. He can't quite move--
[No. This isn't his memory...
[He lifts his head, finding Aubrey still in front of him. The scenery has changed though. On a roof, amongst a field of other rooftops. He recognizes his home town instantly.
[Shiganshina...
[Thick clouds of steam obscure anything beyond the rooftops in a dense fog.
[Armin speaks without meaning to, says words that leave him cringing:]
My comrade, Bertholdt Hoover.
[He chokes painfully on the name, like someone punched him in the gut just after saying it.]
He and Reiner Braun [Eren is nowhere to be seen.] attacked my hometown nine years ago. B-but they were our comrades too...They were our friends...
[What is he saying? What is he saying? Stop talking. Stop talking!]
[Aubrey notices the setting shift immediately. Armin sounds distant. Wait, no, not him—!
[She tries to call his name; maybe the world silences her, maybe Armin doesn’t hear, maybe she doesn’t manage that at all. The rooftops are a deja vu; during the memory-video of course Aubrey saw them, but they were hardly in focus. Likewise, she’s barely connected those dots when Armin speaks again—and he doesn’t seem to want to.]
[Aubrey kneels down by him immediately.] Armin— Armin, hey. [She moves to shake his shoulder, too, if he doesn’t flinch at the reach.] Look at me. You don’t have t— Are you being forced to talk? [Shit. Shit. Detachment gnaws at her resolve; she swings it away, for the moment.]
[Great.] It’s— it’s this world doing its thing again. [She doesn’t mean to sound dismissive, but. God damn it.] I haven’t been able to resist, but… I think you just have to ride it out.
You’ll be okay.... [Or so Aubrey hopes. No titans through the fog, that she can see… and no Eren, either. But Armin’s in distress right now, and she focuses back on him. Gives his shoulder a squeeze, too. Her other hand, hidden by her side, is clenched tight.]
[Aubrey's presence is a comfort, but only just barely. Unlike she and Eren, Armin's never experienced anything like this before. Being forced to witness a memory - that he can maybe relate to a little more, but not this. He wants to tell her everything. He feels an overwhelming need to confess.]
I-I killed Bertholdt Hoover.
[He says it again. His head feels swimmy.]
That monster you saw in me and Eren's memory...I'm no better!
[He squeezes his eyes shut tight, averting his head away from her even so.]
And now Bertholdt's memories live inside of me - they're always there, I can't...I can't escape them.
[Bertholdt Hoover sits with long legs bent at the knee against his chest. His arms are wrapped around them. He's not looking at Aubrey, but he is talking to her.]
I don't blame him for what he did. How could I?
I only got what was coming to me.
[Armin continues to cry beside them, curling up in a ball on the roof; but the sounds he's making become muffled, as if he were encased in glass. He doesn't respond at all to Bertholdt. He doesn't seem to be aware of his presence at all. If Aubrey interacts with him, he won't respond to that either.]
[It’s strange, hearing the confession without an equal compulsion. Belatedly the actual content of Armin’s words starts to settle in. But he can’t be the same as that mindless, grinning oaf—he’s here, clearly remorseful…]
[Before Aubrey can think of what to say, or if she even wants to speak at all, a new voice. Armin curls. She angles her arm around him, as if in defense—but this isn’t a faceless shadow-person, and he sounds nothing if not sad.]
Bertholdt…? [Her eyes are narrowed at him, but she doesn’t quite sound cautious. Of course it’s Bertholdt. But how…?]
[Bertholdt nods, miserable. He can’t pretend to know who Aubrey is; clearly a friend of Armin’s. So, she probably knows all about him - judging by how Armin’s talking, anyway. But Bertholdt can’t hear him too well now.
[If Armin has any awareness of Aubrey or Bertholdt, he doesn't show it. It isn't willful ignorance. The sounds he makes are still muffled; in fact, it seems as though he might as well be one of the shadow people, trapped in a cycle that he isn't even aware of.
[She's right then. This world toys with people. Bertholdt really can't rest even in death?
[Bertholdt does finally meet her eyes. He looks...tired, defeated, broken down by circumstance.]
Not for nothing, but when I first saw this place...
[He glances down at his palms until they make fists.]
I was certain it was Hell...
[Then, with a resigned sigh, he closes his eyes, releases the tension in his hands, looks back at Aubrey.]
Being eaten over and over again. It would be a fitting punishment.
We had the same impression, then. About this being Hell.
[Bertholdt’s not the only one sounding, and looking, defeated.] I’m still not sure it isn’t, really. You can control it, to some extent… but as soon as your memory or thoughts get away from you…
[The more they talk the more Armin’s unresponsiveness is concerning her. Faintly she’s reminded of Eren shaking in the barracks. But he doesn’t seem to be dying, and maybe he needs more time to get it all out…]
[Is he wrong? Aubrey’s been feeling dead an awful lot, lately. It’s starting to creep in now, actually, but she’s more… exhausted, than anything. Her reply is mutter.] Might as well be....
[But Bertholdt’s eyes shift, and so do hers. They stay, this time; wasn’t Armin making that particular face just a moment ago…?] It doesn’t. [An absent reply. Aubrey’s voice is sharper now, more alert. She keeps watching Armin.] But he is— Armin?
[Armin offers no response. Bertholdt feels a cold chill. Is this how Armin feels, watching a dead man's memories? It's a sensation Bertholdt is more than familiar with....]
[To Bertholdt:] Help me. [There’s a flash of fire in her eyes at the demand.]
[She didn’t know what to do with Eren in the barracks; dumb luck, maybe. She doesn’t know how to tourniquet a psychological wound. Shaking isn’t working; she tries patting at his face, light but very agitated; nothing. He’s cold. Why is he cold?!]
[Why is Bertholdt just sitting there? Can’t he move? The world is dangling them over its inhuman maw and they can’t do anything?!]
[Armin’s scream echoes in her head, sharply. She covers her ears, as if blocking out Bertholdt.] He has your memories. You can’t be useless. Do something!
[Aubrey's sudden ire makes Bertholdt jump on reflex. He's always been the nervous type, and he prefers to avoid confrontation when he can; doesn't seem like that'll be an option right now, though.]
What can I do other than what you've already tried? You said yourself that this world toys with us. That's what's happening. You're being toyed with.
[To his credit, Bertholdt finally moves, pushing himself up to stand. He approaches Armin as Aubrey has requested.]
Hey, Armin. It's me, remember? The traitor who destroyed your life. What, you don't want to see me?
[He isn't budging. It's useless. Bertholdt feels bad for his callousness, but what else is he supposed to do? It's hard enough to see Armin like this, even with the anger he still holds for him.
[He closes his eyes for a moment, as if he can't bear to look at him.]
Armin...
[His eyes open. There's an edge to his stare now.]
You shouldn't beat yourself up like this. We all know you only did what you had to do. Hell, you didn't even know what you were doing until it was over.
I only got what I had coming to me. Didn't you hear me say that?
Come on...Get up.
[Alas, nothing.]
What did I tell you? He's just an illusion. You're wasting your time.
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[Aubrey stands with. At the mention of Armin not knowing what she knows, she glances Eren’s way; it’s not as though most of what he’s told her has seemed like a monumental secret, not to mention that memory on the screen…
[Still. She’s seen more than Armin might expect. And he doesn’t need to be freaked out (surprised, caught off guard, who knows how he’d react) by any near-death stories.]
[Aubrey picks her words carefully.] Eren’s told me about the titans, and that people can turn into them… [In a token effort at casualness, she takes off her jacket and starts wringing it out. Still weird to her that the handprint didn’t stick, but it’s for the best....] You must be one who can control it.
[Pretending to examine her jacket (and thus not meeting his eyes), with this one:] I’ve been surprised by worse.
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Yes, that's right.
I inherited my titan's power...
[All at once, Armin feels...subdued. Far away. Isolated, or...maybe trapped is a better word. He's lying on a rooftop, staring up at the sky. He can't quite move--
[No. This isn't his memory...
[He lifts his head, finding Aubrey still in front of him. The scenery has changed though. On a roof, amongst a field of other rooftops. He recognizes his home town instantly.
[Shiganshina...
[Thick clouds of steam obscure anything beyond the rooftops in a dense fog.
[Armin speaks without meaning to, says words that leave him cringing:]
My comrade, Bertholdt Hoover.
[He chokes painfully on the name, like someone punched him in the gut just after saying it.]
He and Reiner Braun [Eren is nowhere to be seen.] attacked my hometown nine years ago. B-but they were our comrades too...They were our friends...
[What is he saying? What is he saying? Stop talking. Stop talking!]
I-I killed Bertholdt! I killed him, I a-ate--
[He claps his hands over his mouth.]
O-oh God...
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[Aubrey notices the setting shift immediately. Armin sounds distant. Wait, no, not him—!
[She tries to call his name; maybe the world silences her, maybe Armin doesn’t hear, maybe she doesn’t manage that at all. The rooftops are a deja vu; during the memory-video of course Aubrey saw them, but they were hardly in focus. Likewise, she’s barely connected those dots when Armin speaks again—and he doesn’t seem to want to.]
[Aubrey kneels down by him immediately.] Armin— Armin, hey. [She moves to shake his shoulder, too, if he doesn’t flinch at the reach.] Look at me. You don’t have t— Are you being forced to talk? [Shit. Shit. Detachment gnaws at her resolve; she swings it away, for the moment.]
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[Great.] It’s— it’s this world doing its thing again. [She doesn’t mean to sound dismissive, but. God damn it.] I haven’t been able to resist, but… I think you just have to ride it out.
You’ll be okay.... [Or so Aubrey hopes. No titans through the fog, that she can see… and no Eren, either. But Armin’s in distress right now, and she focuses back on him. Gives his shoulder a squeeze, too. Her other hand, hidden by her side, is clenched tight.]
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I-I killed Bertholdt Hoover.
[He says it again. His head feels swimmy.]
That monster you saw in me and Eren's memory...I'm no better!
[He squeezes his eyes shut tight, averting his head away from her even so.]
And now Bertholdt's memories live inside of me - they're always there, I can't...I can't escape them.
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It's horrifying, isn't it?
[Bertholdt Hoover sits with long legs bent at the knee against his chest. His arms are wrapped around them. He's not looking at Aubrey, but he is talking to her.]
I don't blame him for what he did. How could I?
I only got what was coming to me.
[Armin continues to cry beside them, curling up in a ball on the roof; but the sounds he's making become muffled, as if he were encased in glass. He doesn't respond at all to Bertholdt. He doesn't seem to be aware of his presence at all. If Aubrey interacts with him, he won't respond to that either.]
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[It’s strange, hearing the confession without an equal compulsion. Belatedly the actual content of Armin’s words starts to settle in. But he can’t be the same as that mindless, grinning oaf—he’s here, clearly remorseful…]
[Before Aubrey can think of what to say, or if she even wants to speak at all, a new voice. Armin curls. She angles her arm around him, as if in defense—but this isn’t a faceless shadow-person, and he sounds nothing if not sad.]
Bertholdt…? [Her eyes are narrowed at him, but she doesn’t quite sound cautious. Of course it’s Bertholdt. But how…?]
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[He curls in a little more tightly on himself.]
My reputation precedes me, I guess.
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[One would think this chain of devouring and destruction might be taking center stage. But instead…]
You’re dead.
How are you here?
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[He still isn't looking at her.]
I don't remember how I got here. I'm not even sure what "here" is.
Sorry.
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[She’s talking to a ghost.]
[Disquieting.]
It’s a memory… or at least part of one.
[With a glance down to Armin.] Strange world....
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It's my memory...
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[Another look to Armin. She’s in no position to blame anyone for being caught in their own grief and guilt… but....]
[Okay. Trying to meet Bertholdt’s eyes again, then.]
It’s yours. And I think it’s Armin’s, too—and not just because of. what happened....
Whatever this place is… it toys with us. [Frustrating....]
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[She's right then. This world toys with people. Bertholdt really can't rest even in death?
[Bertholdt does finally meet her eyes. He looks...tired, defeated, broken down by circumstance.]
Not for nothing, but when I first saw this place...
[He glances down at his palms until they make fists.]
I was certain it was Hell...
[Then, with a resigned sigh, he closes his eyes, releases the tension in his hands, looks back at Aubrey.]
Being eaten over and over again. It would be a fitting punishment.
That's what I expected.
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We had the same impression, then. About this being Hell.
[Bertholdt’s not the only one sounding, and looking, defeated.] I’m still not sure it isn’t, really. You can control it, to some extent… but as soon as your memory or thoughts get away from you…
[The more they talk the more Armin’s unresponsiveness is concerning her. Faintly she’s reminded of Eren shaking in the barracks. But he doesn’t seem to be dying, and maybe he needs more time to get it all out…]
[A quiet, reluctant conclusion:] …Trapped.
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Unless I'm wrong.
[At the word "trapped", Bertholdt's eyes drift over to Armin. They look pained.]
Honestly...I wasn't even sure if he was real. Almost doesn't seem like it, don't you think...?
[Sure enough, if they were to look closely, they'd see the motion of Armin's grief repeat like a pattern on an endless loop.]
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[Is he wrong? Aubrey’s been feeling dead an awful lot, lately. It’s starting to creep in now, actually, but she’s more… exhausted, than anything. Her reply is mutter.] Might as well be....
[But Bertholdt’s eyes shift, and so do hers. They stay, this time; wasn’t Armin making that particular face just a moment ago…?] It doesn’t. [An absent reply. Aubrey’s voice is sharper now, more alert. She keeps watching Armin.] But he is— Armin?
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See what I mean?
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[Bertholdt sounds distant, suddenly. Aubrey is chilled in tandem.]
Armin? [More insistent. She grabs both his shoulders and jostles him.] C-can you hear me?
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It's just you and me, then...
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[To Bertholdt:] Help me. [There’s a flash of fire in her eyes at the demand.]
[She didn’t know what to do with Eren in the barracks; dumb luck, maybe. She doesn’t know how to tourniquet a psychological wound. Shaking isn’t working; she tries patting at his face, light but very agitated; nothing. He’s cold. Why is he cold?!]
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He isn't real. You're wasting your time...
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H-he was just talking. You heard him!
[Why is Bertholdt just sitting there? Can’t he move? The world is dangling them over its inhuman maw and they can’t do anything?!]
[Armin’s scream echoes in her head, sharply. She covers her ears, as if blocking out Bertholdt.] He has your memories. You can’t be useless. Do something!
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What can I do other than what you've already tried? You said yourself that this world toys with us. That's what's happening. You're being toyed with.
[To his credit, Bertholdt finally moves, pushing himself up to stand. He approaches Armin as Aubrey has requested.]
Hey, Armin. It's me, remember? The traitor who destroyed your life. What, you don't want to see me?
[He isn't budging. It's useless. Bertholdt feels bad for his callousness, but what else is he supposed to do? It's hard enough to see Armin like this, even with the anger he still holds for him.
[He closes his eyes for a moment, as if he can't bear to look at him.]
Armin...
[His eyes open. There's an edge to his stare now.]
You shouldn't beat yourself up like this. We all know you only did what you had to do. Hell, you didn't even know what you were doing until it was over.
I only got what I had coming to me. Didn't you hear me say that?
Come on...Get up.
[Alas, nothing.]
What did I tell you? He's just an illusion. You're wasting your time.
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