rollcharisma | IC Inbox for seasonsrpg

Oh. Well.

[Granted, Armin wasn't sure what a "cocktail" was the first time he sat down to drink either. Back home, their options were fairly limited - ale, wine, hard liquour. It's not really a surprise that Reiner prefers his alcohol straight; before coming here, as far as Armin knew, that's just...sort of how people drink it.]

It's like a...[He waves his hand in a vague gesture, drunkenly searching for the best way to explain.] Like a mixture. Straight alcohol and soda, or juice, or...both, maybe. Maybe?

There's one I like. A whiskey "sour", I think? It's-- Well, it's how it sounds.

[Is he rambling? He might be rambling.]

Sour whiskey. [ Reiner repeats it rather dubiously. ] That doesn't sound good at all.

[ What is a filter? It's something Reiner Braun largely lacks once alcohol hits his bloodstream. And boy, is it hitting.

That said, he looks back at the bartender. ]

Two of those.

[ Fuck it! Why not! ]

[At this, a thoughtful frown.]

You're right. It doesn't...

[It's a simple cocktail to make though, and the bartender returns with their--

[Hold on.]

Did you...want both of them?

[Armin said he'd buy him a drink! Maybe Reiner wants two drinks! He's never done this before. It's awkward and weird. He doesn't want to just snatch the whiskey away from him if he planned on having both? What is happening here? Armin certainly doesn't know.]

[ That question earns a comically blank stare. ]

Huh? Why would I want both?

[ And then, eyes narrowing with suspicion. ]

Are you calling me a drunk?

[ He asks, drunkenly. ]

What? Of course not! I just didn't want to assume.

So you assumed I wanted both.

[ Reiner's eyes remain narrowed, tone accusing. ]

You drink first. I wanna see how bad this sour whiskey is.

[ And he'll just … stare at Armin's face. Waiting to see his reaction to the taste. ]

[There's probably no winning in this situation. Reiner is going to think badly of Armin no matter what he says, but Armin figures he deserves as much. He's still surprised the other man didn't ask him to leave...

[Armin could just take a sip of his "sour whiskey" - low risk, show that it's not so bad; instead, he downs basically the whole thing in one go and does, indeed, make a Face about it.

[Some throat-clearing here.]

It's good.

[ Reiner watches the whole thing, taking that particular face as a sign that it's good alcohol. So he follows suit, draining about half the drink in one go—and making a similar face. ]

Yeah. It is.

[ Silence falls for a moment while Reiner frowns down at his glass. Suspicion has bled out of him, along with whatever annoyance might have provided a fresh spark of energy. In its place, he looks … exhausted. Drunk and exhausted. ]

I've been pissed at you for months, [ he blurts out, as if continuing an ongoing conversation. ] Before you even got here. I've been so fucking angry. We really believed Annie was being tortured. Bertholdt believed it. Do you have any idea what that did to him?

[ Maybe Armin does. Maybe Armin remembers it, though the memory wouldn't be his own. Maybe Armin recalls Bertholdt's quiet suffering, and how hard Reiner tried to fix it, nearly courting death as he pushed and pushed to try and rescue her, blocked by Zeke at every turn. ]

I've been so mad at you—for his sake. [ He picks up his glass, staring into it. ] … Seems pointless now.

[ And down the rest of the drink goes. ]

[Armin is quiet for a long moment, hands folded around an empty glass. The rush and warmth of the alcohol dizzies his head, but the shame swirling in his gut is all the more nauseating. What Reiner's saying doesn't come at all as a surprise. Anyone who's in the same room as them for more than a few minutes can tell, Armin figures, that they aren't - haven't been, maybe never will be - on the best terms. He wishes that could be different.]

I do. Have an idea, I mean. [Because he does feel Bertholdt's memories - at times, it feels like complete torture, having to witness firsthand portions of a soul he shouldn't have access too.

[He cared for Bertholdt. He truly did. He still does. And Reiner too.]

There's no point in trying to justify it. I think you understand that we all did what we had to do. [Surely, he must. Maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe it shouldn't. They're all people, and they all have those that they love on their minds. They've all lost. They've all grieved.

[And you know what?]

I have a lot of reason to be angry at you too, Reiner.

[Something he might not say if he were sober, but fuck it, right? He flags down the bartender for another round, and here they are, drunk together and telling the truth. What a novel thing that is...]

I'm not though. Not really.

Not anymore.

[ "What we had to do." Is that what it boils down to for Armin? Is that how those complicit in Bertholdt's murder justify their actions?

It wouldn't be surprising. Reiner did the same thing, carrying out his mission because it was what he had to do. So did Bertholdt. So did Annie, Reiner thinks.

They were kids who didn't know anything.

They were mass murderers before they turned thirteen. ]

If you're talking about Shiganshina, then we're square there. Aren't we? [ He casts Armin a look. ] I destroyed your hometown. You destroyed mine.

[ Does Armin know about that? Reiner can't recall. Right now, it doesn't matter to him. ]

[Yeah. Armin remembers. Armin glares thoughtfully down at his glass.]

Is that really what it all comes down to? Getting even?

[He shakes his head. It’s dizzy.]

We were friends. All of us. I can’t believe that it was all a lie. We cared about each other.

[And then, they were enemies. And they still cared about each other. And it wasn’t enough, because they were born on different sides. Reiner hasn’t lived the part where they end up on the same side again.]

I’m not interested in counting up our sins on each side of the scale, Reiner.

I can’t apologize for what I’ve done. If it all happened over again, I can’t say that it would go any differently.

[God, where was he going with this? He brings up a hand to rub at his temple, momentarily closing his eyes.]

I…don’t know exactly what I’m trying to say here, I just…wish that we could somehow make amends…

It all just seems so impossible to overcome, but from where I’m standing, we did…I think…

[ Reiner shrugs. He wasn't there; he doesn't know if it all came down to getting even. He understands Eren—they're the same—but he doesn't understand everyone else. ]

It wasn't a lie. [ Then: ] Not all of it.

[ There were some lies, of course. Lying was impossible to avoid. Not when the very nature of their mission necessitated it. But the friendships they built? Those weren't lies. Much as Reiner tried to believe they were, they weren't lies.

Murdering Marco proved that beyond all doubt.

Armin says they managed to make amends. Reiner casts him another look. ]

Did we? How?

[At this, Armin's frown deepens. He takes another long drink. It occurs to him that he's not entirely sure how much Reiner knows about how things ended back home. He sighs.]

Not under any better circumstances...

[He glances at Reiner.]

How...much do you know about what happened back home from where I'm standing? With Eren, I mean.

[ Irritation flickers in Reiner's eyes, the prolonged concealment of Bertholdt's fate causing that question to strike a nerve. ]

That's a dumb question. I don't know where you're standing. I haven't lived it.

[ That said: ]

Eren showed me everything.

[ Except for Armin's stolen Titan, plus the Warhammer's power—both of which came to light later. If Eren concealed anything else, Reiner doesn't know. ]

[Fair enough. It was kind of a dumb question. Still, Armin's expression momentarily flattens.]

The Rumbling had already begun when I was brought here. [So, now you know where he's standing!]

We united in order to stop Eren - you, Pieck, Gabi, Falco, and your general with what remained of the Scout Regiment.

[Which, come to think of it...]

We...didn't have much time to talk personally. Maybe I shouldn't assume that we made amends entirely, but...we were on the same side again, at least.

[...]

We...have the chance to make amends here, regardless...you know...

[ United to stop a greater threat, huh? United to stop the end of the world. The very thing that Reiner, Bertholdt, Annie, and Marcel were sent to stop as children.

Who the fuck came up with that plan? Who put the fate of the world on the shoulders of a couple kids?

(Thoughts he would never have while sober. Yet they rise now, bitter as the alcohol.) ]

Sounds like we didn't have much choice. [ Then, muttered: ] Never do.

[ Reiner signals for another drink. Stares down at his hands until it arrives, unsure when he clasped them together. Fingers threaded, knuckles pale. ]

I'm not him. You get that, right? I'm not going to become that Reiner.

[ Kneeling in a dimly lit basement, begging for the end. A hollow, broken shell of man pleading for Eren to kill him.

Reiner won't let that happen here. He can't let it happen. ]

Reiner...

I'm glad for that.

[Armin looks at him, drunken and earnest.]

I wouldn't wish what we've all been through on anyone. The Reiner I knew before...I care about him too, and--

[He cuts himself off. He shouldn't push it too far, right? But his mind is foggy, and his heart is aching. They were friends. They were friends. It wasn't a lie - Reiner said so himself. Not all of it.]

I care about this Reiner too. I know you may not believe it, and I'm not asking you to do anything that you can't or won't do, but...

That's it. That's the truth. I care about you and I always will, no matter which Reiner you are. That's just how it is.

[ Armin sounds so earnest. So genuine. Reiner listens, letting the words sink into him. Still staring down at his hands, barely noticing when his next drink arrives.

The corners of his lips twitch. Then he turns his head to look at Armin, meeting blue eyes. Reiner's expression is open. Honest. ]

Are you sure it's you feeling that?

[Armin stares at Reiner. He might be drunk, but he has no trouble deciphering what the other man is trying to say. It's the same thing that Eren implied when he found out that Armin had been visiting Annie - and it's just as disquieting.

[He remembers how it felt to see Reiner begin to break down - that overwhelming, aching need to comfort him in just exactly the way he needed. He remembers knowing that that comfort couldn't come from Armin, that it was someone else's memories of Reiner feeding him that information.

[He'd felt so cheap in that moment. In this moment, however, he feels angry-- no, hurt, scorned, dismissed. If Reiner only sees Armin as an extension of his passed friend, then Armin supposes he'll have to just accept that. But it burns.]

I am sure. [His voice is quiet, but steady.]

I can't change the way you feel. If I were in your shoes, maybe I'd hate me too. Hell. I already do. [Who knew that all it took was a few drinks to tell the real truth?]

But I loved you before Bertholdt was killed, and I love you now.

You can't change that either, Reiner. I'm sorry that it's such a burden on you. I really mean that. [For all his hurt, he really, really means that.]

[ Reiner is quiet as Armin speaks, studying the other man's face. They were friends, once. Reiner trusted Armin, once. Can he believe this? Can he believe any of it?

What does it matter, in the end? Maybe Armin really cares. Or maybe the struggle not to care is one Armin can't win. Not with Bertholdt's memories inside of him.

"Love," Armin says. Reiner can't process it. Love isn't something so easily given; it has to be earned. Reiner hasn't earned it. Not from Armin.

So he shakes his head, his drunken thoughts focusing on something else. ]

I didn't say I hated you. I said I was pissed. [ Then, frowning: ] You think I could do that? I can't even hate Eren. How the hell could I hate you?

If I hated you… [ He trails off, then picks up his drink. Words slide away from him; it takes a moment to catch them. ] If I could've made myself hate any of you, you'd all be dead.

But that didn't work. None of us could do it. We all cared. So…

[ … Where was he going with this? He pauses, frown deepening. Then he takes a sip of his drink. ]

… So that's how it is.

[ Nailed it. ]

[Nailed it enough...Armin finally looks away, taking a sip of his own drink. His head hangs a little for a moment afterward, feeling heavy and full.]

Well, that's just how it is, then. And here we are...

[Head still slightly hung, he picks up his glass and reaches it toward Reiner's. Either he'll allow Armin to clink them together, or...Armin will look like an idiot - which he's already doing! So, no harm, no foul, really.

[Lord, he is drunk.]

[ Thankfully, Reiner isn't so drunk that he misses the attempted glass-clink (though he's well on the way). He meets Armin's gesture, the glasses tink-ing. ]

Yeah.

[ Then it's bottoms up, again. ]

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