You can't hear me, but I like you

@Bertorotoro Hoover People in the country were wary of sharing anything with those with certain ailments. He wouldn’t have been surprised to see them turn their nose up at sharing a peach with a deaf kid in fear of catching it like some kind of disease. Being as educated as he was, Reiner was able to tell them that being unable to hear or see was often caused by illness and not that it was an illness in and of itself. How anyone could stay away from Bertholdt, as infectious and kind as he was, the shorter couldn’t fathom. Even from what little interactions they had together, he knew people were sometimes wary of the other, especially after finding out his condition.

“I travel a lot.” He signed this with a soft smile, setting the notebook down in his lap to do so. “There aren’t any peaches in Marley. They’ll pay a lot of money.” Towards the end he struggled to come up with the proper word for money, but eventually got it. “Have you heard of Marley?” Reiner wrote this on his notepad to be safe. “It’s near the sea… I bet you haven’t seen that before.” The blonde was clearly excited to show off what he knew. It was often that he had the knowledge and expertise as an old farm boy.

Reiner turned and pointed to the ocean in the distance, urging Bertholdt to look at the giant ship as they went by. “Pretty…” He signed. “Like Bertholdt.”

@Armoured titty Bertholdt smiled a little seeing the blond bite into his peach. That he willingly accepted the sharing instead of rejecting Bertholdt's offer made the latter feel warm inside. He absentmindedly wiped the sticky substance off his lips, but that was promptly replaced with new bits of peach when he finished the fruit. The taller shifted to make space for Reiner, both of them settled in a corner. Their shoulders hunched against each other, Bertholdt feeling Reiner's movements.

Wiping his hands and mouth clean, Bertholdt turned to the other and signed. He pointed to one shoulder then the other. Both index fingers, pointing up then forward. Finally, one index finger that was shaken a little. Where were they going? Bertholdt hadn't asked the question before, but Reiner also didn't bring up their destination. Reiner had only mentioned visiting the people across the ocean when he proposed the trip.

Bertholdt had placed all faith in his friend and, from the start, followed him. The taller took out his own writing materials. 'Do you go on many trips?' Reiner seemed confident in their route; even when seeing the train arrived, he didn't look as astonished as Bertholdt did. Then again, the lanky man didn't see many open mouths or wide eyes back on the platform. He took a quick peek around — many of the riders were sleeping or dressed formally. They must be used to it. Bertholdt wondered what it was like to always visit the land outside. Reiner was a businessman — did he travel all over? Did he go to the inner walls? Bertholdt turned to the blond and found the other looking at him closely. He pinked and dropped his gaze to the other's lips, then down to Reiner's notepad.

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@Bertorotoro Hoover Bertholdt made a lot of noises he wasn’t aware of. This was to be expected considering he’d never been able to hear himself or any opposition from those around him, but Reiner for one, thought they were cute. In fact, nobody on the planet enjoyed his peaches with such passion. He knew well that whenever he offered his friend a peach, the juice would end up all around his mouth and probably on his collar as well. Reiner recalled the tiniest sound that came out of Bertholdt’s mouth the moment he laid eyes on the train with a smile, only to be interrupted by the man in question moving to get his attention.

He recognized the gesture made by the other male, crossing his strong arms against his chest as he gave him a soft smile. “You’re worried I’ll starve?” He gestured in return, eyeing the half bitten peach before his gaze shifted to observe the bits of peach and juice left on the taller’s mouth and lips. “Do you ever eat, Tholdt?” He spoke the words, knowing good and well he wouldn’t be understood, and leaning forward to take a bite of it. It was obvious by the look on his face that he wouldn’t go back to enjoying the peach it Reiner didn’t at least humor him. “Happy?” The shorter of the two gestured this, standing and making the choice to settle next to Bertholdt.

They’d been traveling together a few days and the two of them had no doubt picked up on each other’s mannerisms. One Bertholdt has recently developed, however, was a delicate habit. Reiner noticed it once before when the taller had been watching his lips so intently he’d failed to see Reiner signing to him. Funny, he didn’t remember the other telling him he wanted to learn how to read lips. But then again, it wasn’t really strange to believe that perhaps the other could a little bit. He was naive enough to think that reading lips was the only thing going on. It didn’t even occur to him that perhaps the other had been staring at his lips so intently for a different reason.

“I have more food in my bag if you’re hungry, okay?” He smiled as he should the other his scribbled writing. “We should be to the ship within the next hour.”

@Armoured titty Bertholdt followed the blond onto the advanced wheels of death. It was a monstrous creation, one he was sure only came into effect recently. Reiner had assured him that the mode of transport was faster and safer than on foot. They were heading across the huge body of salt water called the ocean. Reiner had explained that to him, outlining crude doodles of a circle with squiggly lines to represent said ocean. Another new mode of transport is the ship which would take them to a foreign land. Another nation. There were people living on the other side of the ocean.

He let out little body wiggles every now and then, to which Reiner responded by physical contact. His ears flushed upon each contact. Most of the touches were at a precarious position. Bertholdt deemed Reiner's little touches as mere consideration; it didn't look like the blond was affected.

The taller turned from looking out the window to face the other, accepting the peach with a grateful smile. He hadn't even requested the businessman bring the exotic fruit for the trip, yet the latter came prepared. Bertholdt observed the other's lips. Recently, he'd switched from looking at the hand signs to focus on the mouth movements instead. He flitted his gaze up to meet Reiner's eyes, hoping the other hadn't caught him staring.

Bertholdt bit into the sweetness. He noticed the blond hadn't made a move to take a peach for himself and frowned. Reiner would get hungry too if he didn't eat. Tapping the other, Bertholdt pressed the other side of the peach to his lips. He formed a duck with his free hand and moved it towards his mouth. A sign to eat.

@Bertorotoro Hoover He’d found out that it was much easier to communicate with the other when he used his hands to do so. Instead of pointing or signing, Reiner absentmindedly took ahold of the other’s wrist to hand him a peach or readjusting him on the train by placing a hand on his hip. Then it seemed appropriate but now he was second guessing himself. As they chugged along and were finally exiting the outermost wall, Reiner watched Bertholdt as he excitedly took it the new sight before him. It was unlike anything anyone could’ve seen from the inner walls, this was probably very exciting for him. If he could show the taller male more, he would. Nothing felt more satisfying than appeasing that curious look in his eyes. Reiner still didn’t know the reason he’d left for so many years, but I was clear the other wanted more than what he had. Didn’t most?

“Tholdt….” He said this aloud out of habit, reaching into his satchel to offer him a peach. Reiner scooted forward a bit, taking ahold of Bertholdt slender wrist and placing the plump fruit into his palm. “You need to eat; you’ll be hungry by the time we arrive.” He signed most of this.

@Bertorotoro Hoover Reiner approached

@Armoured titty He was immersed in his own thoughts about seeing what lied outside that he failed to notice the other's red face. Never had he thought he'd be able to see the other side. Bertholdt lacked the means and money to get there. He didn't even know where to start. He chewed on his peach, wiping away the mess on his chin with the back of his hand. His eyes flitted to behind Reiner and back to his face. The tan blond was facing against the sun, but somehow he was still a vision with shadowed features. Bertholdt could only memorise the sight in front of him now. The decoration to be added to his sketchpad would be much later.

He let out a soft, sincere smile and nodded firmly. It was a concern for the deaf: being unable to communicate. Even in his own neighbourhood, the number of people he could effectively communicate with could be counted on one hand. The shorter was asking Bertholdt to rely on him. He had long ago given his trust.

---

The lanky man was there again. The tree had become the pair's rendezvous. He had packed whatever he thought was essential: basically, everything. All of his sketchbooks were triple-wrapped with clothes and carefully placed in a knapsack. Bertholdt wondered if he brought too many items. They were only going for a few days.

@Bertorotoro Hoover Tomorrow. Reiner signed this in response, his cheeks a tad bit red. He could blame the color on the cool Fall air if he needed to, but he doubted the taller male would ask him about it. Instead, he focused intently on Bertholdt's pretty lips, covered in Peach nectar and glistening with enjoyment. How could anyone eat it in such a way and leave him so... Reiner cursed himself again. He had to stop allowing himself to think of the other in such a way. Now that he'd actually returned and was close, his wet dreams were closer than he ever knew they could be. He'd felt less shame when he knew they could be written off as strange... Seeing now that Bertholdt was so accessible and that his chest was responding accordingly, it only confirmed that those strange dreams were actually strange fantasies. Reiner took the second peach and began to promptly cut for his friend to more easily enjoy.

"Don't worry about not being able to communicate or anything like that..." He signed, softer than before to show that the words he wanted to say were delicate and well thought out. "I'll make sure you feel safe."

@Armoured titty Bertholdt had just bitten into his fruit when his attention was brought onto the notepad. His hand lowered, the peach juice staining the area around his mouth. He held up a finger to his lip and pivoted the arm away. Was it true? Did Reiner really want to take Bertholdt for an excursion outside the Walls? But why? What about his business? Was Reiner allowed to do so?

Bertholdt assessed the fidgeting man before him. It did not seem like a question that was asked for the mere sake of courtesy. Once again, Bertholdt felt his insides warm with tenderness. He was grateful to meet the considerate and kind soul on that day. The consequence thereafter didn't matter. His dominant hand stained with the peach juice, the lanky man decided to write with his free hand, the letters coming out shakily. 'Yes. When?'

@Bertorotoro Hoover Reiner may have guessed that there was some nuance in his expression. In the few years since he'd become a business man, he'd become exceptional at reading expressions and he could see the light in Bertholdt's eyes grow brighter the moment he mentioned going beyond the walls.

See, not many ventured off their tiny island even now that they knew of the outside world. The walls persisted, but had once been used to protect them. While many protested they come down, many wanted them to remain in tact. Distant lands discussed how they should treat Paradis as a new and rising political power, but nothing they'd discussed seemed to hurt distribution, hence the reason Reiner could still travel freely. Because of many of these political discussions, it wasn't difficult to see why some feared leaving the island. Clearly, this was not the same for his friend.

Surely it wasn't appropriate to ask him to go.... right? What would it look like for him to bring his friend along? And why was he feeling embarrassed? It wasn't like he wasn't bringing a woman along and yet, asking him to come felt like he was asking his lover. Reiner seemed to hesitate as he took the pen once more, glancing up at Bertholdt to see if maybe the other was reading into his odd behavior before finally writing. "Wanna see for yourself?"

Why had it always been this way? When he thought of Bertholdt, despite their long absence from one another, he thought of him as someone to protect-- as someone to treat with tenderness. It was as if he'd devoted himself to him as someone more than just a friend. Reiner tried to get ahold of his thoughts as he had many times before that. He... did not have a crush on a man, what kind of thinking was that?

@Armoured titty Bertholdt couldn't hear, but he could smell. And the enticing fragrance of the food caused him to nearly salivate. He hadn't eaten breakfast before leaving the house, and it would be his first meal of the day. Bertholdt's attention was quickly caught by the sweet peaches the other pulled out after. He gratefully received the sandwich with two hands, moving his stuff on the table to accommodate Reiner. The signing wasn't clear, yet it was obvious Reiner had to leave. Although he tried not to show it, the taller felt disheartened at their short reunion. He bit into the sandwich and put a thumb up for the taste.

He cheered up at the possibility of them meeting up again, nodding fervently. Eating another chunk before putting the sandwich down, Bertholdt signed back his question of where the blond was headed. Reiner seemed more than elementary at sign language. The artist still chose to brush his hands free of crumbs prior to writing down his questions. "Where you go? Out the walls?" He picked up the remaining of his meal.

He didn't have many details, but his elderly teacher had informed him of the land beyond the walls. She'd shown him of a book of wonders from the outside world: fire water, land made of ice, and fields of sand — signing that those must be true after all. Bertholdt knew he was foolish for thinking so, yet even if there were a small chance of him seeing the world beyond the Walls, he'd jump at the chance. There was nothing holding him back anymore.

@Bertorotoro Hoover Reiner couldn't help but smile at the way he anxiously scribbled out the misspelling. Perhaps it was hard for him to learn to write when he couldn't hear. He didn't even know what any of these syllables sounded like... He didn't know what Reiner's voice even sounded like. Seeing the sign returned to him, the shorter male nodded to show that he could still understand. Maybe it wasn't all understood, but he got the gist of it. Bertholdt had missed him as well and truthfully, that was the only part of the response he could think about.

The sound of the taller's stomach was audible enough to give the blonde another reason to laugh. How on Earth was this guy even standing to have not had anything for lunch? Reiner set his brief case on a nearby table, focusing intently on cutting his lunch in to. As he did so, the wind gently blew and caused the blonde wisps of hair to shift back and forth. "I packed a large lunch today, we should share it." He forgot for a moment that Bertholdt couldn't hear him and said this mostly to himself. When he turned again, he was holding two sandwiches he'd made, both with tasty meat and sauces he'd prepared a few hours earlier and three juicy peaches to enjoy. "You missed my peaches, right?" He signed this part clumsily, handing over one of the sandwiches and taking a seat at the table. "I think I'll have to leave soon." He signed, though some of the motions were a bit intangible as he'd forgotten the sign for leaving, which he'd never anticipated using with his old friend. "But can we meet up again?" He gestured between them before bringing his index fingers close to indicate meeting again. "I'm going on a trip, but I'll be back in a few days."

@Armoured titty The weight on his shoulder burned through his top despite its brevity. Bertholdt fought the urge to shy away, instead focusing on the other's reply. He frowned. He didn't want to pull the other from his duties. On the other hand, they only met again after more than half a decade. Bertholdt didn't want their time to be cut short yet again. This time though, he could return the next day. He was no longer barred within four walls. A circle, followed by a 'k'. He signed with a questioning look. 'Is it okay? You busy?' He wrote down on the paper.

Bertholdt clasped his palms together, perpendicular to each other, and shook them. A sign of celebration. 'Do you sell frit?' He hastily crossed out the last word and replaced it with its correct spelling. 'The fruit I eaten last time was tasty.'

He pursed his lips, still feeling the guilt. 'I miss you too.' However, seeing more of the signs made Bertholdt beam. He was fortunate to have such a caring friend, even more so from beyond Rose. 'Your sign language is' Bertholdt placed his fingers on his chin, palm flat, then extended it downwards to meet the open palm of his other hand. He nodded, feeling his stomach rumble in cue. 'Do you have more of the fruit?'

@Bertorotoro Hoover It seemed silly for him to have felt so impacted by the apology, but he did. He'd come to this very spot many times to check for the other male. At that point it had become a hang out spot for himself so it truthfully wasn't difficult to, though it was a bit of a bummer to not see his friend from before, scribbling away in his notepad. Nowadays, he felt guilty for not being able to check on the spot more, but obviously it worked in his favor for once. Reiner gave the taller male a gentle pat on the shoulder, the remnants of his country boy mentality showing through.

City folk didn't take kindly to the personable approach of touching others, but it was a habit that took effort to conceal even now. "Not anymore." He scribbled a response down onto the sheet of paper. Now that Bertholdt was here, any meeting he had scheduled could wait. His gaze shifted from the taller's face back down onto the page to remember what he'd written, though he responded with sign. "I've been working. I gotta nice job in sales." The economy was doing well now that they could work with other countries. Personable salesmen like himself were very much needed and very successful.

He pulled away a bit to offer more awkward signs and to show his commitment to the other had not been forgotten after all this time. "Don't feel bad. I'm just grateful to be able to see you." The movement of his fingers may have been clumsy, but that aggressive passion they present, though maybe a bit too aggressive, was not unintentional. "Are you hungry?"

@Armoured titty Bertholdt's eyes sparkled in recognition of the signs. The hand movements were a bit unsure and slow, yet the taller appreciated the gesture all the same. It was a touching sight, Reiner's effort. He signed back in greeting, moving steadily so the blond understood what he was trying to convey. Bertholdt smiled at the lighthearted remark and nodded. A short, tuneless honk of laughter flitted past his lips.

Bertholdt fidgeted at Reiner's gaze upon his sketchbook and fought the urge to cover his drawings. The latter didn't know that his portrait was included in Bertholdt's older sketchbooks. It was partially due to Reiner that Bertholdt followed his mother's path, although his art was on paper instead. What had begun as an exercise to pass time cooped in his house had developed into a progressing career. As the silence grew, he flashed an uneasy look, only to relax at the familiar sight of Reiner's scrawl. He flipped close his sketchbook.

'I am better at writing too.' Bertholdt looked at the other. Tenses were still his weak spot, but he had improved. He blinked at the last word, recognizing yet not comprehending it, never seeing his name shortened before. 'Thank you. Are you go somewhere?' The former country boy seemed to have shed his past identity, now dressing up in a formal attire that stood out explicitly from the country landscape.

Bertholdt clenched his own pencil. He had often wondered what he would say when they met again, whether Reiner would blame him for disappearing after that day, and whether he would be remembered at all. To have the blond in front of him and picking up the conversation as if he never left left Bertholdt grateful yet guilty.

Bertholdt's pencil trembled. 'I'm sorry for my leave. How are you?'

@Bertorotoro Hoover Their meeting wasn’t for very long, but he’d occasionally checked the spot they’d met previously, wondering if the odd, much lankier man had managed to return after all. In their brief interaction, Reiner had learned that he was from a different part of the walls. He’d snuck out sometime while his mother hadn’t been looking because he’d been curious enough to do so. It was admirable and, though different, similar to his own coming-of-age story. Reiner’s eyebrows furrowed the moment he saw the familiar silhouette seated comfortably upon the grass, drawing peacefully in his sketch pad.

From what he could tell, the scouts had made massive progress outside of the walls. They now knew of a sea full of salty water and bodies of land beyond them. Reiner for one had become a learned man, one sufficient in business. He often went to other places to talk through business deals and made good money. One could hardly recognize the unkept country boy he used to be. No sooner than the taller male could look up did Reiner lift his hands to sign. It wasn’t as crisp as he remembered Bertholt’s signs and it was a bit clumsy, but one could expect that from a self-taught student of his caliber. “Long time no see..” His movements were delicate and clearly intended to be lighthearted. “Did you manage to grow some more?” He smiled at his attempt as joking with his old friend.

Reiner took a seat in front of him, noisily glancing down at his sketch pad. Though he’d certainly studied sign language, he didn’t know a lot. It was enough, however, for him to be able to talk with him a little bit and to be able to learn from him. After all this time, the shorter male didn’t mention the absence. It was as if there had never been one, though, Bertholdt was taller and he, himself, had a little more facial hair. Reiner placed his briefcase on the table in front of him, fishing out a notepad to write on and setting it in between them. “I can actually spell now.” Was the first thing he wrote. “You look good, Tholdt.”

@Armoured titty He was out of Rose territory again. Only this time, Bertholdt was free to venture. He leaned back and shielded his eyes from the retreating sun. He was under the same tree that they'd once had been. The tan country boy of the past... the lanky raven-haired man wondered how Reiner was. As he had foreseen, Bertholdt had been caged up after his disappearing act, unable to fulfill his silent promise of visiting the blond again.

A lot had changed. Looking down at his sketchbook, Bertholdt picked up his pencil and resumed sketching, the dying rays bleeding into the completed landscape. The head of the household could do as he pleased, answering to nobody when he was the only surviving member. He didn't have to rush.

A shadow fell upon Bertholdt, causing him to cease from when he was erasing the mistakes from his sketchbook. Bertholdt looked up into familiar hazel eyes. His heart skipped a beat.

@Armoured titty So his name was Reiner. In a moment of joy, Bertholdt forgot his new friend didn't know sign language. Palms together, one atop the other, in a horizontal manner, and both hands facing different directions. Top palm is swept away. Two number 1s that faced each other. He gave a big, toothy grin and a wave in case his meaning was lost on the other.

Bertholdt looked on as the shorter continued writing what appeared to be in a different language. He was puzzled. He didn't know there were others who spoke a different language living in Paradis. It was similar to what he'd been taught by his next-door neighbour, yet different. His mother didn't have time to educate him in all subjects, even though the number of subjects decreased ever since he was pulled out of school.

He observed as the other demonstrated and wrote. Bertholdt recognized the last few words, although the final word took longer to discern. Skeptical of the hairy skin, Bertholdt munched on his own peach hesitantly, only to loosen up once the fuzz didn't bother him. The sweetness of the peach caused him to gobble down the fruit in seconds. He beamed as he showed the clean core to the blond. He decided that he should purchase one; it might quell his mother's anger. Perhaps she'd let him visit Reiner again. It was worth a shot.

Bertholdt focused on chaining the new questions. Reiner was like him in a way: understanding a language yet unable to communicate in it. Bertholdt wrote back in neat letters. 'I walk to here. My town is there.' He pointed back towards Rose, at the same time noticing how late it was. 'I want to buy one.' He scribbled and pointed towards the basket of peaches. Bertholdt passed a bunch of coins to Reiner, then bent to pick up his fallen pit. He had to hurry.

@Bertorotoro Hoover The scribbling on the notepad made more sense than any of their previous attempts at talking to one another. Perhaps it was the this 'Bertholdt' couldn't hear him when he spoke. After all, they clearly spoke the same language and when he'd attempted to introduce himself before, the much taller individual didn't react at all to his attempts to say hello. Reiner couldn't help the curiosity that overtook him. He was a country boy with little knowledge of how big the world truly was. and although he yearned to know more about it, nothing could have prepared him for a person who couldn't hear.

'Reiner...' He wrote his name in sloppy writing, showing it to the other before writing more. 'you kan jost bite the sken, u kno...? It's soft n hary, bot it tasts gud.' It took him a while, which he was a bit embarrassed about, but it'd eventually get better when he entered the city school. He excitedly scooted a bit closer to his new friend, holding up a finger as if to tell him to wait, scrambling for another peach to properly show him how to eat it. "Like this." He said this aloud, forgetting that the other couldn't hear him, bringing the peach to his mouth and taking a bite, showing him the middle of it and the pit as well before taking ahold of the note pad to write more broken language. 'u hav tu woch the pit. its not eatable.'

He wondered momentarily if he was writing properly, having considered that Bertholdt's words and sentences were much better written and spelled differently as well. Reiner blushed at the realization and refrained from writing for a moment. If he hadn't mentioned it, then maybe his writing was fine... right? He firmed his grip to write some more, though with a bit more hesitation. 'u kent here me, rite?' His gaze was a bit hesitant as well, 'r u frum sum uther town?'

@Armoured titty Bertholdt was used to signing with his mother and next-door neighbour the that he didn't realise not everyone could understand what he was trying to convey. The confusion on the stranger's face led Bertholdt to repeat his action, jerking his pointer finger. Just one. He had brought limited cash, the decision to explore a spontaneous one.

He nodded in relief when the country boy got his message, quirking a brow for 'how much?', only to be denied. Bertholdt was surprised. If the recession had hit the inner cities as much as his mother had complained, how worse was it beyond Rose? He placed his fingers on his chin, palm facing inward, and rotated his elbow to form an arc with his arm. A symbol of gratitude.

The fuzzy and soft fruit in his hand, the taller hesitated as the other male sat on the grass, unsure of if he was allowed to sit next to the latter. The palm tapping twice on the grass made Bertholdt change his mind and plop his bum on the ground beside the other boy. The pale mixture of the orange, yellow, and pink sitting on his palm was a mystery. He turned the fruit over, feeling the minute hairs brushing his skin. It was similar in shape and size to an apple, yet the hairs were throwing him off.

A tap on his leg. Bertholdt turned to the blond who mouthed words faster than he could read. Bertholdt frowned, staring blankly at the other. The other shifted in his spot. He directed his gaze down to the writing materials, apparently understanding the other's meaning. 'Bertholdt Hoover', he wrote with a steady hand, the next words appearing slower. 'Thank you for the frit. What is your name?' He handed back the pad and pencil.

@Bertorotoro Hoover Reiner watched the foreign movement of the other males fingertips, trying to make sense of the signs they created. Being from the country, seeing individuals with various ailments was rare. It didn't even occur to him that the person standing before him couldn't hear him and even after seeing the signing, he thought it was just some bizarre language he'd never heard of. Maybe much of the movement meant nothing, but he'd managed to get the gist of the conversation when the stranger held up one finger.

Ah... right. He was asking to buy a peach. Reiner looked back over his shoulder at the basket of peaches, taking one and handing it over while shaking his head. "Just try it." The taller male was obviously not from the village. Judging from his clothing, he likely wasn't even from this section of the walls. If that were the case, he probably never had the opportunity to try them. They were much too expensive to import these days. The shorter male was willing to look past the initial rudeness, now understanding that the guy hadn't been ignoring him, but that he was just... different in some way.

Reiner took a seat in the grass, leaning back against his palms just as he'd been doing before seeing the other male. He tapped his leg to ensure the other was looking at him. When he spoke, the stranger focused intently on his lips. Maybe there'd been a reason for that. "Is there a reason you use your hands like that?" He paused, realizing that maybe the language didn't work the way he was using it. The blonde reached into his pocket for the bundle of papers he used to figure numbers, offering the tall and lanky individual the pad and pencil. "Would you prefer writing?"

@Armoured titty His mother would be furious at him. Not only was Bertholdt not going where he'd informed her, but he was also venturing out of Wall Rose. His place of security. Their only haven. His mother, who once dreamt of moving her family within Wall Sina, had recently muted the discussion and shunned the boy when he tried to gather more details. Bertholdt could see it then: he would no longer be able to go out without an , namely, his mother.

He followed a branch of the military out the gates and beyond Wall Rose. The green coats with the blue and white wings were focused on their expedition, uncaring of the trailing lanky boy. Bertholdt knew some — or even most — of them won't be returning. He didn't have to hear the commotion whenever the survivors returned. He could see it in the relative's face, the anguish that would be commonly be accompanied by denial and rage. Acceptance and pride was rare. His mother had been in the former category, the soundless crash of the clay statue smashing against the wall, open in a silent scream. Bertholdt himself had stared at the broken statue. It had been his mother's proudest art: an ugly humanoid figure that his father had slain.

-------

He was lost, as much as he disliked admitting it. He had detached from the convoy once they passed the nearest town, their paths diverging. Townsfolk had greeted the city boy with a little too much enthusiasm and shoved their peddlings in his face, promoting their products which he had not heard. The recession effects had hit out into the country. Bertholdt had thought his mother's sculptures were low in demand due to their hideous figures; she had done an excellent job highlighting the contorted expressions of the titans. Further out he had gone, lost in the new scenery, until he had lost the trail to Wall Rose.

The orange rays of the setting sun caught his eye. He turned. It was unlike anything he ever saw from the city. Mesmerized, he tuned out of his surroundings and focused on the horizon, only to be jerked back upon a shake of his shoulder. A startled grunt left his lips, as he stepped back and assessed the stranger. He was shorter than Bertholdt, like most others. A bulky blond with thin brows and muscular jaw. A scowl which was mouthing words too fast for Bertholdt to comprehend.

The taller frowned and signed an apology with his hands. Fist. Circular motion on his chest. His clothes were similar to the town hawkers; Bertholdt eyed the basket of exotic fruit behind the country boy and with both palms on his chest, right higher than his left. Then, he connected his middle fingers with his thumbs. He held up one finger. It would be his first purchase since venturing out of his house.

@Bertorotoro Hoover "Sounds like they're going out on missions again, those good for nothing scouts." He listened to his grandfather complain, reaching up a little further to pluck a ripened peach from it's resting place. The more they spent out here, the less he felt the old man actually contributed to his own farm. "Ain't nothing good waiting for em out there, I tell ya! We needa focus on what we got going on in our neck of the woods!" His grandfather was hardworking man, but had become somewhat cynical of the Government in his older years. Though most of the elders in the village had. "Wah... huh-? Hey, Reiner make sure you get that peach there, STOP SLACKIN SON!"

Reiner grimaced a bit, holding back a sly remark that'd been sitting on the edge of his tongue. He loved the man dearly, but he could be a bit of an annoyance on hot, grueling days like this. Especially when he made him do all the work and insisted on talking. It made him somewhat happy he'd be going to the city to study for a while. From what he'd heard swirling around, he figured the further inward he went, the better. As it turned out, there were enemies far worse than titans beyond their walls. "Sure, pop." He mumbled, grabbing the peach and stuffing it in the large basket before reaching for another.

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"Peaches, 4 coppers!" He stood with the same basket over his shoulder, watching as people went about their business. People weren't going to pay four coppers for a peach, but that was what his grandfather had told him to sell them for. Times were harder these days and though the military offered rations to circumvent the hunger swarming the cities, it only did so much. Waving expensive peaches to starving people seemed a bit wrong. Reiner sighed and stopped calling to them, pushing the hanging basket behind his back and taking off down the sidewalk. If he was truthfully going to stop selling fruit from this point on, maybe he wouldn't work so hard. His muscular frame disappeared into an open patch of grass, only a few blocks from the bustling streets. It wasn't exactly clean, but it was quieter than before... Certainly quaint enough for him to sit and enjoy a peach.

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After sitting a while, the young lad noticed a taller, thinner gentleman gazing upon the sunset. Reiner watched in momentarily before finally deciding to say something. "Didn't notice you there." He waved, though the other male was faced mostly in the opposite direction. Though, Reiner quickly realized it didn't matter. Despite his attempt at introduction, the other made no attempt to return his greeting. He frowned, finding it typical of a city boy to ignore him in such a cold way. They were about the same age, he figured maybe the two of them could at least be friends. Guess not.

Reiner stood, making his way a bit closer to the lad, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving it a gentle shake. "Hey-" He tried his best not to be a about it. "It's not very kind to ignore people, y'know. A simple 'no thanks' would've sufficed!"

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