[They've resettled themselves back on the Neheda, hauled in a ton of supplies marked in the old ID sequence, but there's still no sign of the promised new recruits. And when they'd run into so many new faces (and some not-so-new faces) on Selena claiming to have been recruited by the CDC, he'd been sure—
They'd lost track of them but where else—
So where the hell are they?
It's a constant wear on his nerves. That they're out there somewhere, and that they could be gearing up to leave them behind. (Armin, Petra, Marco. Annie. Resurrected or amnesiac or both.) Restless, he ducks himself off of his bunk to head out of the room he's been slotted into in lieu of a Rover, only to collide in the doorway with one of the people he shares it with.
Ah. He takes a step back, shoulders squaring. He isn't overly friendly with November—they don't have a lot in common, they don't evem really talk much, but—]
Hey. [His jaw sets. He bites at his tongue. Hovering in the doorway like he's getting at saying something else. Give him a second.]
[ Being back on the Neheda was simultaneously relieving and a bit tense. While he was glad to be off of Selena VII (all the unfamiliar spaces made him very anxious), he wasn't sure how long they had until their next mission. Operation: Save Princess Dagger had been a good exercise, but he was looking forward to the challenges similar to what Ajna had provided near daily.
Still, he knows the importance of down time for morale and for energy levels. So he finds things to keep himself busy. As it is, he's coming back from a jaunt around the ship, re-familiarising himself with the various rooms and hallways. It's just as he's coming through the door to his shared room that he runs into someone.
A steadying step back and a blink and he's glancing down at Eren curiously, waiting for the younger man to speak his piece. ]
[If anything, the downtime's just riled him up more than it's settled him down. He's not that great at being idle in the first place, but the absence of the people he'd seen on Selena is the final nail in the coffin.
So he shifts on his feet, squaring up to face November purposefully.]
Those people out there, with the collars. [He taps at his throat absently. Collars instead of cuffs. It rubs him the wrong way. They still don't know what it means.]
Have you seen any of 'em around here?
[They'd been promised new recruits. They aren't on the ship. He can't abide getting ready to leave them behind.]
[ The people with the collars. He immediately thinks of April, his partner in crime, wondering just where she is. Their conversation was easy, like they weren't planets or galaxies away from their own. And then there's Amber– the word games were a strange comfort, even if she jabbed at places that he wasn't willing to talk about.
Does he want them here? He had volunteered, but he knows for certain that April hadn't. She was pushed in a corner, something that leaves a bad taste in his mouth. ]
No, none of them. [ A pause, before curiosity gets the better of him. ] Was there someone you were hoping to see?
[They're already here. For all their claims of consent, the CDC doesn't give a damn about what they want. So better to have them on the crewship where he can know they're safe, fight with them, protect them. Thinking of abandoning them on some strange colony, or having them transferred off to another ship—]
There were some people out there from home.
[Allies, most of them. Important, all of them. (And, of course, there's the matter of those who had nowhere left to go.) But the only face he knows for sure that November would recognize is a fairly recent loss.]
Armin was out there. He didn't remember anything from Ajna.
[Which means the CDC is messing with them in more ways than just the transfer from crew to crew.]
[ Of course he wouldn't be the only one who had seen people from his planet. It's still interesting to hear that Eren had run into a few familiar faces. On one hand, it seems like a good thing.
On the other, the name Eren says hits home. Armin. As in, the Armin they just reassigned. The one they thought they'd lost to another crewship, where neither Mikasa nor Eren could keep an eye on their good friend. He feels numb, thinking about it. ]
That doesn't make any sense. [ Well, maybe. This was the CDC they're talking about here. Who knows what they're capable of? ]
Unless they think that's some sort of benefit. He couldn't recall anything?
I just said he didn't. [He'd had no idea. It was really fucking disorienting, aggravating. Even infuriating. That the CDC could do that. That they would do that, drop him off on the same colony, and then spirit him away somewhere a few days later. What the hell is the point?] He wouldn't lie about it.
[And his frustration with the matter isn't doing a lot to keep his temper in check. November's nonreaction grates on his nerves enough to spark it into a flareup. His posture shifts into something a bit more combative. And with more heat that it really probably deserves—]
[ No, that is true. He has no reason to lie. Especially not to someone he's so close to. That leaves, then, of course, this being some game that the CDC is playing at. Perhaps the collars had something to do with the sudden amnesia? Or there's something unexplainable. He doesn't see the point in bringing someone back just to play a mind game, honestly. It's not something he'd put past the CDC as a whole, but there's still something off about this entire situation.
He's about to say as much when Eren's harsh words cut through. A flicker of shock colors his expression for a moment before it slides away as quickly as it'd come. This isn't the first time he's been asked this, but it is the first time he's been asked by someone he finds himself wanting to care about. (Somewhere, the Contractor part of him recoils at the idea of having attachments).
Does he feel anything about this situation, though? There's always a little emotion, pooled on the surface. With how small it is, it's easy to ignore in favor of other things– logic, for one. ]
Not in the same way you do. [ That's part of it. A start, really. ]
[Snapping is cathartic. Once he starts getting angry it's not very easy to stop, and he can't really be bothered to try right now. A vicious feedback loop that builds on its own momentum. The shocked look is almost vindicating, as brief as it is. (At least it's something.)
But it's gone as soon as it appears, and November's back to being impassive. Vexed and venomous at the wrong (but handy) target, he huffs a breath out through his nose.]
What the hell is that even supposed to mean?
[Eren's always felt everything pretty damn strongly. He doesn't know how to turn it off. It's not exactly normal in its own right. He can't imagine being any other way. But November never seems to properly care about anything. It's weird. And right now, it's incredibly aggravating.]
[ It's easy to see this is only working Eren up even more than he started. The younger man is like a broken tap– once everything starts rushing out, there's usually no stopping the flood of emotions that follows. On the field, it's almost an admirable trait, that he'll keeping pushing his limits until he collapses (it's also partially suicidal, but he's not going there). However, when he's receiving the brunt of it, there's a thin layer of quiet irritation.
But, he's never fully explained himself, and now the brunette is demanding answers. ]
It's as though I'm looking at my emotions from far away instead of being close to them– that part is unplugged. They're there, but they're numbed over and they never interfere with my judgment. [ It's the closest explanation he can give. ]
Essentially, they're weak at best and I'm more likely to follow logic than feeling.
[It's more than a little self destructive. Unwise and unsustainable in a place like this, a life like his. He takes things too personally and too hard and he pushes himself too far but he drags himself back to his feet after taking a beating because he doesn't know how else to live. The opposite doesn't appeal to him as a better option. (What's the point of fighting if you can't bring yourself to give a damn about anything?)]
Unplugged?
[It had been mostly rhetorical. He hadn't....actually expected such a cut and dry and deliberate answer. (Like this is something more than a personality defect.) It sort of stops him short and wrong footed as he finds his momentum again. Hands in fists in the face of November's quiet irritation. He's missing something here, and he digs at it.]
[ (The point of fighting when you don't give a damn is so you can keep breathing).
He's no stranger to fighting for things he should care about. Has cared about more, maybe, in a life before his mind clicked off his emotions. Before South America and MI6 and trusting a mentor that he shouldn't have. Strangely it was after that realisation, after he found out Decade had quietly been stabbing him in the back from virtually day one, that he'd really felt something other than a overwhelming numbness. In the face of that, his revenge on Maki had been nothing.
Because being duped is one thing. Being betrayed, tricked, and having Decade say he was sorry had been too much for him to let go. The bastard was sorry alright, at the end. ]
When I got my powers, it turned off my emotions. Completely. [ It feels like it's been so long, now. ] That was years ago; it's not as bad now, but it's not what could be qualified as normal.
[Going through the motions of living but feeling nothing while you do it. That doesn't sound like living at all.
(But if you really didn't give a damn, you wouldn't fight so hard to keep breathing in the first place.)
He stops and frowns for a solid handful of seconds while November actaully explains. It's about the last thing he'd been expecting to hear.]
You mean you gave that up for power. [He wants to call bullshit. (He's heard stranger things, here, but he's not all that sure he believes it's even possible.) It's hard to wrap his head around the fact that you could even make that kind of trade. But that...that he can almost—almost—begin to understand. He can't imagine living without drive, passion, (and yeah, anger.) Hell, Eren's particular brand of power largely relies on it. (Even before his shifting became a factor.) But giving everything for your cause, doing whatever it takes to win no matter what it costs you personally—
It's hardly a new concept. (Neither is being looked at as less than human by people who fear what you are.) He still can't say he likes the sound of it. His combative stance relaxes by increments into something smaller and warier as he grapples with the concept. Like he's trying to decide if November is bullshitting him. His mouth thins out. After a moment—]
[ Having explained it the way he did– not many are expecting that answer. He can see it on Eren's face, the confusion around why he was like this. There weren't too many more protests, though, and he can see the younger man was visibly relaxing. Not by much, but it was better than nothing. ]
I had them taken from me– no Contractor asks for their powers, they just receive them without warning. [ And then, they're bound to a Contract for the rest of their life. Whether that means they actually live as long as a normal person (to be decided, it's only been 10 years since the gates appeared) or if they end up getting killed due to their line of work. He has yet to meet a Contractor that's not involved in special operations or covert affairs in some manner. And even if they aren't involved, they quickly become involved because of persuasion from governments or syndicates.
That's the thing about being a Contractor, they'll always agree to whatever is the most logical. Maybe it's that which keeps them going. Their reason to live, because there's no rationale behind ending ones life for no reason. ]
If I'd done this on purpose, I'd be a very different person.
[ In either case, he'd be fighting for his right to live. Just now, it's fighting to be seen as an individual instead of a monster on some level. ]
[November can be sort of an asshole. He's got a weird sense of humor. So some part of Eren is still trying to decide if his leg is getting pulled, here. But he's being very serious, right now, even if Eren still doesn't really understand it.]
Things like that don't just happen out of nowhere.
[There must be a reason. Something behind it. Even if it seems out of nowhere at first. Even in Trost, he'd realized—
His hands ball into fists at his sides. The reminder is enough to drive a spike of pain behind his eyes, phantom and dizzying. (His father holding him down, the prick of a needle that sends a burning through his veins—) He inhales against it, frowns, furrows his brow to concentrate on shoving it away.]
You can't tell me you don't think there's someone behind it.
[Someone who did it to you. Something to use it for.]
[ What he wouldn't give to know. To know why Contractors happened to begin with. Why they were affected and not anyone else. Ten years isn't that long in the grand scheme of things, but research wasn't making quick enough progress to be of any use. Not to mention that all of the time spent had seemingly been to figure out how to get rid of all of the unwanted "monsters". Both Dolls and Contractors alike. Part of him feels angry, that distant level of frustration with the situation that he'd left behind back home.
He'd taken down one of those responsible, and he knows that it had worked out on some level. Misaki had told him it'd smoothed over, for the most part. Decade's death was the first domino in the line, a spark to light a long fuse that resulted in BK201 shutting down the particle generator. It's ironic, the infamous Black Reaper was the one to save all of them.
Still, for all he knows these things had been resolved in some way, he knows it's not done. Years of secrets and hiding and fear needed to be undone. People would take even more time to unlearn what they believed to be true of Contractors. It's not like their fears are misplaced, either. He'd gone and murdered five people in cold blood before he'd come to the CDC. Who's to say he or anyone like him would stop at that? ]
And sometimes, they do. Without explanation.
[ The lack of logic is staggering. It rubs him the wrong way entirely, mind balking at the lack of reason. But he couldn't give it anything. No one knew why the gates appeared. He watches Eren struggle with the idea and briefly, he wishes he felt enough to let it show. As it is, he doesn't even think his pulse has gone up. (But, to anyone looking, he's more tense, the lines of his mouth drawing downwards, eyes tense at the corners). ]
Maybe there is. Maybe there isn't. At this point, does it even matter? I've been given powers that'll help my survival here, as well as the higher chance of my world continuing to exist.
[ Someone's used him since he became like this. And here, they're pointing him like a weapon. ]
[To be frank, November had always struck him as sort of creepy. Because Eren's not the greatest judge of motive in the world—he'd been good friends with two of the greatest traitors humanity has ever seen, after all—but he knows when someone rings as false to him, and November'd always been weird, even if he couldn't put a finger on why.
Knowing why...doesn't clear everything up, but it paints him in a different light. He can't condemn November using those powers as he sees fit. (He can't regret having the power to fight, no matter what it means about him, what it makes him. But he also can't forget the key still strung around his neck, his father's last words to him before he vanished off the face of the earth. Find the basement. His sense of responsibility hangs too heavy on him not to think about it.)]
Do you even care about that?
[It's a frank question, not quite an accusation. If he apparently can't care about anything—does it even matter to him what happens to his world?]
[ It's not an unfair question. He's thought about it plenty of times– why is he here, in the CDC? Originally, he'd agreed simply to keep his life. Well no, "agreed" isn't quite the term for it. Frankly, he'd volunteered. Hadn't even known what he was signing up for, desperation creeping into his decision. His recruiter had been lucky, finding him bleeding out on the sidewalk in Japan.
Briefly, he wonders if they orchestrated it. Had successfully maneuvered him into a corner so he'd agree to whatever they'd ask of him. Because when he'd gotten here, he'd been one of the only ones who consistently followed direction, regardless of what it was for. In some ways, he still thinks he's part of a smaller group of people that will still do so. The way the CDC recruits doesn't always breed a sense of trust or in some ways, a sense of responsibility. November can't really blame the ones who quietly buck off the reins.
He'd just be hard pressed to find a reason to do so for himself. ]
I care about my life. Which I suppose means, in turn, I care about my world, since they're basically linked. [ His service for his life and the life of his world. ] Though quite honestly, I'd just want to keep it so I can eventually get some answers.
[No, finding recruits that trust or comply with the CDC without being threatened into it is rare. Eren's a perfectly good case in point. So maybe they couldn't be any further from each other in terms of personality and priority.
It's a little selfish an answer. Is it better than not caring at all? Yeah. Infinitely. Still, Eren holds his own world too close to his heart to understand it.]
That's not what it means. [Caring about your world just because it happens to be tied to your life, and not the other way around.] Why are you even here, then?
On the whole, Contractors are that way. It's about surviving. About keeping themselves and their well-being top priority. November had been one of the best agents; no, the best agent in MI6. Which means he was particularly adept at keeping himself from dying.
One slip up had been all it had taken. ]
I'm here to stay alive. [ Cutting straight to the chase. ] And you?
[It's selfish. But it's human. Wanting to stay alive. Survival.
Just survival has never been enough for him.
His shoulders square. His hands pull into fists. He's here because the CDC tricked him here. Blackmailed him into cooperation. He's here because that woman had asked him if—]
I'm fighting for humanity.
[He seems to pull himself up straighter. Lifting his chin like he's got something to prove. Like he's had to do it a thousand times before. It's so familiar he's hardly even aware he's doing it.]
I'm going to exterminate the titans and free humanity from the walls. I'm not letting the CDC stop me.
[And that means staying alive. (Maybe it even means taking them down.) Fiercely, earnestly, honestly—]
[ He doesn’t even need the verbal answer from Eren to understand. It’s in the way that the boy straightens up, how his posture goes from simmering to blazing. How, in some way, he’s spilling over. There’s a challenge there, in the way that he tilts his chin up. Threatening him to try and go against the grain.
And while he’d known the brunette to be more emotional than he is, it becomes as clear as day that there couldn’t be a wider gap of difference in how they react to things. ]
Whatever it takes?
[ The question is mild. November isn’t about to question his motives– they’re well-placed, considering the circumstances.
November questioning the declaration is...fair. Because it's a hell of a thing to say, all things considered. The CDC expects them to do their dirty work, and from the sounds of it, their work gets plenty dirty. Ajna was bad enough—populated by mindless (weren't they) puke monsters and various alien animals. Rumors around the ship keep saying that was the easy part.
Eren doesn't intend on letting things get too far before doing something about it. (Eren's great intentions don't always pan out the way he plans.)
But one thing hasn't changed. Humanity is still his priority.]
I'm not giving up.
[He'll do whatever it takes. He can't afford not to.]
[ Eren isn't the type to give in or give up. November knows this, just from all the interactions he's had with the younger man. What he wonders, though, is how much he can take before he snaps. Before he loses in a big way and isn't able to pick up the pieces. It's one thing to say one isn't going to give up and quite another to be faced by harsh reality.
Neither Mikasa nor Eren have grown up with a normal childhood, that's immediately apparent. But in a lot of ways, they're both so young.
Too young. ]
I believe you. Just be careful when you make your decisions.
[ There's a brief hesitation. ]
You have a lot of people that care about you; don't take that for granted.
[He isn't the type to give up. And he doesn't have the luxury of considering it, because like it or not, Eren isn't just a soldier. He hasn't been, since Trost. He knows what kind of stakes sit on his shoulders. Which is why he can't afford to fuck up, and he can't afford to give up. It's not about him anymore.
And he's very painfully aware of that. His expression shifts from stubborn to steely. What do you know about what he's taking for granted, November.]
I've got a lot of people counting on me.
[And it doesn't necessarily matter if they care about him or not. It doesn't even matter if they like him very much. Comrades go deeper than like or dislike, but it's more than that. Because he really might be humanity's last shot at a counterattack, at survival. People have died to make sure he has a chance at living up to that, and he does not (will not) take any part of that responsibility lightly.
And that's no small factor in why he's been able to grit his teeth and bow his head as long as he has. Maybe there will come a day where Eren needs to choose between humanity and his own principles, here. And there's only one choice to make, in the end, but it's not going to be one that comes easily for him.]
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day 68. nvm I'm skipping right to action because I'm lazy
They'd lost track of them but where else—
So where the hell are they?
It's a constant wear on his nerves. That they're out there somewhere, and that they could be gearing up to leave them behind. (Armin, Petra, Marco. Annie. Resurrected or amnesiac or both.) Restless, he ducks himself off of his bunk to head out of the room he's been slotted into in lieu of a Rover, only to collide in the doorway with one of the people he shares it with.
Ah. He takes a step back, shoulders squaring. He isn't overly friendly with November—they don't have a lot in common, they don't evem really talk much, but—]
Hey. [His jaw sets. He bites at his tongue. Hovering in the doorway like he's getting at saying something else. Give him a second.]
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Still, he knows the importance of down time for morale and for energy levels. So he finds things to keep himself busy. As it is, he's coming back from a jaunt around the ship, re-familiarising himself with the various rooms and hallways. It's just as he's coming through the door to his shared room that he runs into someone.
A steadying step back and a blink and he's glancing down at Eren curiously, waiting for the younger man to speak his piece. ]
Mm?
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So he shifts on his feet, squaring up to face November purposefully.]
Those people out there, with the collars. [He taps at his throat absently. Collars instead of cuffs. It rubs him the wrong way. They still don't know what it means.]
Have you seen any of 'em around here?
[They'd been promised new recruits. They aren't on the ship. He can't abide getting ready to leave them behind.]
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Does he want them here? He had volunteered, but he knows for certain that April hadn't. She was pushed in a corner, something that leaves a bad taste in his mouth. ]
No, none of them. [ A pause, before curiosity gets the better of him. ] Was there someone you were hoping to see?
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There were some people out there from home.
[Allies, most of them. Important, all of them. (And, of course, there's the matter of those who had nowhere left to go.) But the only face he knows for sure that November would recognize is a fairly recent loss.]
Armin was out there. He didn't remember anything from Ajna.
[Which means the CDC is messing with them in more ways than just the transfer from crew to crew.]
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On the other, the name Eren says hits home. Armin. As in, the Armin they just reassigned. The one they thought they'd lost to another crewship, where neither Mikasa nor Eren could keep an eye on their good friend. He feels numb, thinking about it. ]
That doesn't make any sense. [ Well, maybe. This was the CDC they're talking about here. Who knows what they're capable of? ]
Unless they think that's some sort of benefit. He couldn't recall anything?
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[And his frustration with the matter isn't doing a lot to keep his temper in check. November's nonreaction grates on his nerves enough to spark it into a flareup. His posture shifts into something a bit more combative. And with more heat that it really probably deserves—]
Do you even care?
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He's about to say as much when Eren's harsh words cut through. A flicker of shock colors his expression for a moment before it slides away as quickly as it'd come. This isn't the first time he's been asked this, but it is the first time he's been asked by someone he finds himself wanting to care about. (Somewhere, the Contractor part of him recoils at the idea of having attachments).
Does he feel anything about this situation, though? There's always a little emotion, pooled on the surface. With how small it is, it's easy to ignore in favor of other things– logic, for one. ]
Not in the same way you do. [ That's part of it. A start, really. ]
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But it's gone as soon as it appears, and November's back to being impassive. Vexed and venomous at the wrong (but handy) target, he huffs a breath out through his nose.]
What the hell is that even supposed to mean?
[Eren's always felt everything pretty damn strongly. He doesn't know how to turn it off. It's not exactly normal in its own right. He can't imagine being any other way. But November never seems to properly care about anything. It's weird. And right now, it's incredibly aggravating.]
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But, he's never fully explained himself, and now the brunette is demanding answers. ]
It's as though I'm looking at my emotions from far away instead of being close to them– that part is unplugged. They're there, but they're numbed over and they never interfere with my judgment. [ It's the closest explanation he can give. ]
Essentially, they're weak at best and I'm more likely to follow logic than feeling.
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Unplugged?
[It had been mostly rhetorical. He hadn't....actually expected such a cut and dry and deliberate answer. (Like this is something more than a personality defect.) It sort of stops him short and wrong footed as he finds his momentum again. Hands in fists in the face of November's quiet irritation. He's missing something here, and he digs at it.]
What the fuck are you talking about?
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He's no stranger to fighting for things he should care about. Has cared about more, maybe, in a life before his mind clicked off his emotions. Before South America and MI6 and trusting a mentor that he shouldn't have. Strangely it was after that realisation, after he found out Decade had quietly been stabbing him in the back from virtually day one, that he'd really felt something other than a overwhelming numbness. In the face of that, his revenge on Maki had been nothing.
Because being duped is one thing. Being betrayed, tricked, and having Decade say he was sorry had been too much for him to let go. The bastard was sorry alright, at the end. ]
When I got my powers, it turned off my emotions. Completely. [ It feels like it's been so long, now. ] That was years ago; it's not as bad now, but it's not what could be qualified as normal.
[ Or, back home, qualify as human. ]
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(But if you really didn't give a damn, you wouldn't fight so hard to keep breathing in the first place.)
He stops and frowns for a solid handful of seconds while November actaully explains. It's about the last thing he'd been expecting to hear.]
You mean you gave that up for power. [He wants to call bullshit. (He's heard stranger things, here, but he's not all that sure he believes it's even possible.) It's hard to wrap his head around the fact that you could even make that kind of trade. But that...that he can almost—almost—begin to understand. He can't imagine living without drive, passion, (and yeah, anger.) Hell, Eren's particular brand of power largely relies on it. (Even before his shifting became a factor.) But giving everything for your cause, doing whatever it takes to win no matter what it costs you personally—
It's hardly a new concept. (Neither is being looked at as less than human by people who fear what you are.) He still can't say he likes the sound of it. His combative stance relaxes by increments into something smaller and warier as he grapples with the concept. Like he's trying to decide if November is bullshitting him. His mouth thins out. After a moment—]
What did you need them for?
[His powers. What was he fighting?]
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I had them taken from me– no Contractor asks for their powers, they just receive them without warning. [ And then, they're bound to a Contract for the rest of their life. Whether that means they actually live as long as a normal person (to be decided, it's only been 10 years since the gates appeared) or if they end up getting killed due to their line of work. He has yet to meet a Contractor that's not involved in special operations or covert affairs in some manner. And even if they aren't involved, they quickly become involved because of persuasion from governments or syndicates.
That's the thing about being a Contractor, they'll always agree to whatever is the most logical. Maybe it's that which keeps them going. Their reason to live, because there's no rationale behind ending ones life for no reason. ]
If I'd done this on purpose, I'd be a very different person.
[ In either case, he'd be fighting for his right to live. Just now, it's fighting to be seen as an individual instead of a monster on some level. ]
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Things like that don't just happen out of nowhere.
[There must be a reason. Something behind it. Even if it seems out of nowhere at first. Even in Trost, he'd realized—
His hands ball into fists at his sides. The reminder is enough to drive a spike of pain behind his eyes, phantom and dizzying. (His father holding him down, the prick of a needle that sends a burning through his veins—) He inhales against it, frowns, furrows his brow to concentrate on shoving it away.]
You can't tell me you don't think there's someone behind it.
[Someone who did it to you. Something to use it for.]
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He'd taken down one of those responsible, and he knows that it had worked out on some level. Misaki had told him it'd smoothed over, for the most part. Decade's death was the first domino in the line, a spark to light a long fuse that resulted in BK201 shutting down the particle generator. It's ironic, the infamous Black Reaper was the one to save all of them.
Still, for all he knows these things had been resolved in some way, he knows it's not done. Years of secrets and hiding and fear needed to be undone. People would take even more time to unlearn what they believed to be true of Contractors. It's not like their fears are misplaced, either. He'd gone and murdered five people in cold blood before he'd come to the CDC. Who's to say he or anyone like him would stop at that? ]
And sometimes, they do. Without explanation.
[ The lack of logic is staggering. It rubs him the wrong way entirely, mind balking at the lack of reason. But he couldn't give it anything. No one knew why the gates appeared. He watches Eren struggle with the idea and briefly, he wishes he felt enough to let it show. As it is, he doesn't even think his pulse has gone up. (But, to anyone looking, he's more tense, the lines of his mouth drawing downwards, eyes tense at the corners). ]
Maybe there is. Maybe there isn't. At this point, does it even matter? I've been given powers that'll help my survival here, as well as the higher chance of my world continuing to exist.
[ Someone's used him since he became like this. And here, they're pointing him like a weapon. ]
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Knowing why...doesn't clear everything up, but it paints him in a different light. He can't condemn November using those powers as he sees fit. (He can't regret having the power to fight, no matter what it means about him, what it makes him. But he also can't forget the key still strung around his neck, his father's last words to him before he vanished off the face of the earth. Find the basement. His sense of responsibility hangs too heavy on him not to think about it.)]
Do you even care about that?
[It's a frank question, not quite an accusation. If he apparently can't care about anything—does it even matter to him what happens to his world?]
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Briefly, he wonders if they orchestrated it. Had successfully maneuvered him into a corner so he'd agree to whatever they'd ask of him. Because when he'd gotten here, he'd been one of the only ones who consistently followed direction, regardless of what it was for. In some ways, he still thinks he's part of a smaller group of people that will still do so. The way the CDC recruits doesn't always breed a sense of trust or in some ways, a sense of responsibility. November can't really blame the ones who quietly buck off the reins.
He'd just be hard pressed to find a reason to do so for himself. ]
I care about my life. Which I suppose means, in turn, I care about my world, since they're basically linked. [ His service for his life and the life of his world. ] Though quite honestly, I'd just want to keep it so I can eventually get some answers.
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It's a little selfish an answer. Is it better than not caring at all? Yeah. Infinitely. Still, Eren holds his own world too close to his heart to understand it.]
That's not what it means. [Caring about your world just because it happens to be tied to your life, and not the other way around.] Why are you even here, then?
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On the whole, Contractors are that way. It's about surviving. About keeping themselves and their well-being top priority. November had been one of the best agents; no, the best agent in MI6. Which means he was particularly adept at keeping himself from dying.
One slip up had been all it had taken. ]
I'm here to stay alive. [ Cutting straight to the chase. ] And you?
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Just survival has never been enough for him.
His shoulders square. His hands pull into fists. He's here because the CDC tricked him here. Blackmailed him into cooperation. He's here because that woman had asked him if—]
I'm fighting for humanity.
[He seems to pull himself up straighter. Lifting his chin like he's got something to prove. Like he's had to do it a thousand times before. It's so familiar he's hardly even aware he's doing it.]
I'm going to exterminate the titans and free humanity from the walls. I'm not letting the CDC stop me.
[And that means staying alive. (Maybe it even means taking them down.) Fiercely, earnestly, honestly—]
I'll do whatever it takes.
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And while he’d known the brunette to be more emotional than he is, it becomes as clear as day that there couldn’t be a wider gap of difference in how they react to things. ]
Whatever it takes?
[ The question is mild. November isn’t about to question his motives– they’re well-placed, considering the circumstances.
(He knows what the price of freedom can be). ]
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November questioning the declaration is...fair. Because it's a hell of a thing to say, all things considered. The CDC expects them to do their dirty work, and from the sounds of it, their work gets plenty dirty. Ajna was bad enough—populated by mindless (weren't they) puke monsters and various alien animals. Rumors around the ship keep saying that was the easy part.
Eren doesn't intend on letting things get too far before doing something about it. (Eren's great intentions don't always pan out the way he plans.)
But one thing hasn't changed. Humanity is still his priority.]
I'm not giving up.
[He'll do whatever it takes. He can't afford not to.]
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Neither Mikasa nor Eren have grown up with a normal childhood, that's immediately apparent. But in a lot of ways, they're both so young.
Too young. ]
I believe you. Just be careful when you make your decisions.
[ There's a brief hesitation. ]
You have a lot of people that care about you; don't take that for granted.
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And he's very painfully aware of that. His expression shifts from stubborn to steely. What do you know about what he's taking for granted, November.]
I've got a lot of people counting on me.
[And it doesn't necessarily matter if they care about him or not. It doesn't even matter if they like him very much. Comrades go deeper than like or dislike, but it's more than that. Because he really might be humanity's last shot at a counterattack, at survival. People have died to make sure he has a chance at living up to that, and he does not (will not) take any part of that responsibility lightly.
And that's no small factor in why he's been able to grit his teeth and bow his head as long as he has. Maybe there will come a day where Eren needs to choose between humanity and his own principles, here. And there's only one choice to make, in the end, but it's not going to be one that comes easily for him.]
I know that. I'm not going to screw that up.
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