An Eldian's Journal
PART 1
featuring:
Joyful Pain - discount Ymir - a spark in the sky - an officer's compensation - some delightful strumming
Chapter 1: The fighter - a stupid game.
I guess we can start this 'epic saga' off with a less than epic story from when I was 12 years old. Like most misery, it started with a vague sense of enjoyment.
In that wondrous year, I moved into section F of the Eldian Internment Zone in Liberio, Marley. As typical of most places, this corner of the internment zone is full of different characters: funny devils, caring devils, beautiful devils, foul-mouth devils, and the list goes on and on.
During that time period, however, these characters rarely sought ambition. They would get angry, snap off on each other, but most of them refrained from doing anything too foolish. That brings me to why my family moved here in the first place. You see, my family used to have a sickness. A sickness that made some of my family members want to accomplish things with their lives and make a difference. An example of this was my Social Justice Warrior Aunt, Karin Hauser, and the failing comedian, Grandpa Frederick.
Anyway, they tried to accomplish their goals despite the backlash they received from the people around them. What were their rewards? Not-so-happy-fates. These fools brought so much shame to my family that we could never be taken seriously. Also, since my dad had no backbone then, instead of trying to earn the respect of our neighbors, he took me and my mom and moved to Section F.
On the summer day we arrived, my mom gave me a sound piece of advice while we unpacked our overstuffed move-in crates. After lowering a crate brimming with kitchen supplies and rusty bowls, my mama lifted her back up and aimed her iron face at me. She spoke with words that flowed as maple syrup.
"Heinrich sweety?"
"Yes, mama?"
Her iron face melted into a warm smile that practically reached out to hug me. She then put her hands on my shoulders. "Don't be a little bitch."
"Huh?"
She itched her chin for a brief moment but long enough that her nails left a few lonely white streaks on it. "Actually…be a little bitch."
"Huh?!"
"Tell me. Why are we here again?"
"Because everyone in our old place stopped respecting us after what aunt and grandpa did."
"That's right. And we can't have that happening again. So, when people tell you to do something around here, you just say 'Yes, ma'am or sir' and nod."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Be a little bitch, Heinrich, and you won't get in trouble."
'Be a little bitch' was not the best way to put it. But even my 12-year-old self could understand what she was getting at.
In the evening, after unpacking all our items, I left my home in hopes of making a strong first impression with my neighbors. After walking down the mini flight of stairs, I stood on the mediocre yet sufficient sidewalk that laid dead outside of my home. Then, I found a rusty bike praying near my feet. Looking past the unkind yet warm street, I gazed at all the depressed-looking houses that were all in dire need of hugs.
It was nothing new. My previous section carried the same aroma and flavor.
Picking the easiest option, I knocked on the door of the house to the left of mine. (3 knocks instead of 5. I'm not an animal of course)
1.
2.
3.
4.
5…
60
After a solid minute of tapping my toes on the doorsteps, I was greeted with a friendly silence. Silence is the only thing that reliably provides hugs in the internment zones. After a shallow sigh, I turned around to head down an identical yet somehow inferior mini flight of stairs…
…until I met a walking box.
My eyes greeted a boy, around my age, dressed in cardboard boxes and with a chocolate lock of hair atop his head. There was a glimmer in his eye much like that of my crazy family members. It scared me. Yet, I was drawn to it like a fly to a light.
His introduction was something that I will never forget:
"Are you the new neighbor? I, Viktor Dassler, want you to play Titans with me."
"I, Heinrich Steiner, don't know you."
"I, Viktor Dassler, don't care."
"I, Heinrich Steiner, want you to stop talking like this."
"Ok fine but we need another person to play. Pleeeassssee. I'll make a deal with you. If you play the game with me, I'll be your friend!"
All in all, it sounded like a pretty tantalizing deal to me. I didn't have friends in my old section, no thanks to my relatives, and saying I was desperate then would be an understatement. I accepted the deal. Despite not saying 'yes sir' immediately, I did accept his offer like 'a little bitch' so I technically respected my mama's wishes. I gave myself a nice pat on the back.
***MY FIRST REGRET IN MY SHORT TIME IN SECTION F***
"Hey guys! I found someone to play the female titan!", Viktor hollered while waving shamelessly. From a dumpster that laid dead nearby, seven heads popped out from behind and let out a sigh of relief in unison. The costumes these kids wore were peculiar, to say the least: one wore a white tablecloth with two holes cut out for the eyes and a broomstick in his right hand - The Warhammer Titan. Another wore regular clothes but there's a twist. He had a shaggy, black wig - The Attack Titan. Viktor himself wore cardboard boxes covered in yellow, red color pencil scribblings and of course drawn in abs – The Armored Titan.
With a cheeky grin, Viktor reached into a pocket underneath his "armor" and pulled out a pink bra, with extra padding. "Wear this. You're the female titan. And make sure to give it back, it's my older sisters." Without warning, he tossed it at my face and chuckled as it slid down and fell on the pavement below. I gazed at it for a good minute, contemplating whether my fate was going to be as embarrassing as my relatives.
Lucky for me, I found out 2 or so years later that it was going to be worse. Much worse.
"Hey what are you staring at it for?"
Upon the question, I reached down and picked up the undergarment with my thumb and forefinger. The process of putting it on confused my 12-year-old mind more than long-division ever could. As I made a fool of myself trying to figure out the complex system of straps, Viktor gave me a detailed, bit by bit breakdown of the game.
***HOW "THE FIGHTER" DESCRIBED THE GAME RULES***
I made it up like 2 days ago so we don't have any rules yet
"Wait, how do we play then?"
"Well, I guess we do have one rule. Fight like titans. What else do you need in a game?"
"I don't even know how to fight."
"The Great Titans of Ymir" that stood by the dumpster took a break from their snickering and started cracking their knuckles. "Well, that's even more fun."
At that moment, it felt like those kids beat each other up so much they didn't have enough brain cells to make more than one rule. I let out a sigh. It didn't even surprise me anymore. No matter where I went, I would always get a beatdown. Only this time it would be by "The Great Titans of Ymir". We then gathered into the battle arena: the alley between my house and Viktor's house. It was bloodless; thankfully, it was going to receive a few drops.
I began preparing myself for what I thought was going to be another typical beatdown. But there was a major difference: there was a bra dangling joylessly around my waist. I just stood there in front of the other kids as a punching bag wearing a bra. "Alright, let's get this over with", I said with a sigh.
However, I couldn't be more surprised by what Viktor said next.
"Hit me. As your first friend, do me a favor. Hit me as hard as you can."
Before that day, I only received punches; I never gave them out. The only times I ever hit anyone was in my dreams where I would fantasize about beating up bullies and stealing their girlfriends.
"You. You just want me to hit you? Like, use my own arms to attack you?" I had already given up on the 'yes, sir' rule.
"Yes, that's what hitting me means."
"Where though?"
"Surprise me."
I had always dreamed of getting back at someone and my chance to do so was standing 10 feet in front of me. Yet, something just didn't feel right. There was no deceit on his face; he seemed to genuinely want this. So, I put my fists up while feeling an unusual lightness in them. I tossed my feather-filled fist towards him. It dissipated and blew into the air of the blood-hungry alley.
"You went right for the "armor" even though my head was open?"
"I. I didn't want to hurt yo-"
"Try again."
I looked him straight in the face. Even for a 12-year-old, he had a prominent jaw; I could tell he wasn't a stranger to taking punches. I put my fists up once more. I lunged forward and socked him in the jaw. He fell to the right and the pavement welcomed him with open arms. A loud silence filled the alley.
"Hey Viktor, are y-you alright?!" asked the "Warhammer".
"Now-" Viktor panted heavily and rubbed his jaw, "Now that's what I'm talking about!". His eyes locked onto me, "T-that felt good, didn't it Heinrich?"
"Y-yeah. Just a little."
It felt f*cking amazing. 'Is this what power feels like', I thought. Other than the fact that my knuckles were crying, they vibrated in an odd sense of euphoria. I looked down at my hands, in cautious awe.
"Well, now it's my turn"
Without warning, Viktor bounced up from the ground and threw a right hook at my face. I too was welcomed by the pavement.
That beating felt different from the ones I had to endure before. Instead of quivering on the ground looking up at someone, I was quivering on the ground equal with someone. I almost…liked it.
Looking back at the day now, Viktor didn't have any real skill or talent then. That didn't matter though since I got a bloody nose anyway. I guess the bloodless alley finally had a test of fresh devil blood.
"Viktor, why does that kid have my bra?" Another opponent entered the fray: Viktor's sister. The girl teleported behind me and as I turned around, I could feel the glare of disgust on my scalp. She didn't need to say anything. The look said it all (So much for a good first impression). She pulled the undergarment off of me and plodded over to Viktor. She grabbed him by the ear as she dragged him off and "The Great Titans of Ymir" dispersed.
Viktor hollered to me, "Owww. Welcome..to Section F, Heinrich. OWWW. Y-you've just been indoctrinated!"
***'TWAS A DAY OF MANY FIRSTS***
First friend
First punch
First time "wearing" a bra
I guess that's how you make friends: a straight hit to the face and a bloody nose.
BONUS:
Anyway, let me give you a background of my family so you know where I am coming from.
The Social Justice Warrior. Karin Hauser. My aunt.
My aunt Karin used to fight for women's rights. She got a strong following for an afternoon however people remembered all of a sudden that there was a pressing issue that Eldians, women AND men, didn't have rights in general. People labeled her as "too progressive". When a Marleyan officer caught wind of what was going on, he took her away for the reason that if the movement spread any further his wife would start joining in.
***THE FLAWED THINKING OF KARIN HAUSER***
She skipped one social issue and moved onto another
She used to say, "we'll work on it later"
The comedian. Frederick Steiner. My grandfather.
You see my grandpa had his heart set in the right place: he wanted to make life in the internment zones less miserable and humor was his way of doing it. However, good humor makes life less miserable, and bad humor makes life more miserable.
Gramps made the latter.
He wanted to write a comedy book however as Eldians paper was heavily taxed (everything was). So, he did what any sane man would do: he stole napkins from the diners and stockpiled overtime. Instead of writing one full book, he wrote small short stories on these napkins and stuck them in the grooves of his neighbors' doors so they could read them.
Apparently after the first day of doing that he found the same stories soaked in sweat underneath his door. Unfortunately, that didn't deter him. He kept doing it until he managed to get the attention of one of the Marleyan officers overlooking the unit.
After multiple warnings, gramps was charged with creating "publicly indecent humor". His last words were, "I was just ahead of my time."
***FREDERICK STEINER'S GREAT WORKS***
"Honey, the Titan Ate the Kids"
"Watchya Doin' Step-Titan?"
The believer. Erika Hauser. My grandmother.
I'm not spending much time on this one. Simply put, there was always an occasional old person here and there that believe Ymir contacted them through PATHS. My grandma would often climb the stairs to get to the roof-top so she could "get a stronger signal". One day she walked off the roof.
And yes, my parents are pretty normal. They fed me the propaganda. The books made for some hateful bedtime reading.
The Real Author's notes
Hey everyone, this is my first ever fanfiction! This series will be about Heinrich Steiner, a young boy in the Eldian internment camps on Marley which are set in
the world in Attack on Titan. This story will be focused on regular people on Marley rather than the military aspect we see from the show.
(If you found this to be weak, my writing has gotten better with the chapters)
A quick note: This story is inspired by the book, "The Book Thief", and the movie, "Fight Club". I have taken elements from there to some degree.
Any feedback is appreciated!