A/N: This is a very ambitious project that I've been working on for awhile. I've always been a novice when it came to Titanic, so when I thought about making a story for it, almost immediately I thought about the characters from Attack on Titan since the canonical story had such a dramatic punch to it. I worked on this concept while coming up with some ideas that would make the story more interesting.
Keep in mind, this isn't based on the James Cameron film, this is mostly based on the real events of the Titanic disaster, except it has some fictional elements that are there to make the plot adaptable to the main characters; speaking of which, there are historical figures that appear in this story and I want them to be treated respectfully and not as campy or corny characters from a work of fiction (and I'm not saying this to be ironic, by the way, I genuinely do not want to be disrespectful to the families or distant relatives of those who were on Titanic).
Also, I do not own the characters of Attack on Titan, they belong to the creator, Hajime Isayama, as well as the publishers of the manga. I won't be leaving any Author's Notes with the exception of this chapter, as I want the flow of this story to feel more natural as you're going through each chapter.
And, now, in memory of the 1,496 people who lost their lives at sea over a century ago, here is The Atlantic Titan...
Prologue
Atlantic Ocean
April 15th, 1912
The deathly still waters of the cold Atlantic gracefully basked under the starry night that overlooked the world's darkest abyss. The eerie calm was a peaceful ambience to the calm ripples that moved with enlightenment. White lifeboats disturbed this quiet air as the oars hammered the surface, and the abhorrent yells and commands of sailors broke the silent tension.
In the distance, flickering lights of a former floating city reflected off the surface of the glassy sea. The iron hull faded with the darkness, so only the glowing radiance made by the generators kept it from dissipating in the night. The people that watched from afar could only imagine the fate that awaited those who were left to wander the slanting decks and fall victim to the rising danger.
In one of these lifeboats, a dark-haired girl wearing a red scarf and a life belt donned over her clothing, watched with sad eyes as the ship dipped ever so slowly. The people that sat beside her in the boat were stricken with worry and grief for the loved ones that were still aboard. The girl caressed her scarf tenderly; she thought about the one that she cared most deeply for… the one that she was forced to leave behind.
Neatly stacked dishes fell off of their shelves and cubbies, shattering upon hitting the floor; chairs, tables, and other furniture sliding and crashing into nearby walls. Cold, freezing water bursting through the narrow corridors of the upper decks. A populace of nobles, clergymen, immigrants, and seamen alike; men, women and children, stranded and left to die in an atrocity crafted by both Man and God.
A church hymn played on over the bangs and moans of the ship by an ethereal orchestra. Groaning and creaking metal echoed from inside the mechanical structure. Three massive propellers rose above the water. Four smokestacks leaned towards the submerged bow; the first one, ripped from its moorings, collapses and falls down on top of the unlucky swimmers below.
Like herds of animals, the passengers and crew migrated in droves towards the stern section. Dozens leaping into the frigid inky blackness, bobbing like barrels with the aid of life belts. A pastor and his parishioners standing on the aft section prayed to their god, choosing to accept their divine fates.
The front half, now swallowed by the sea as the port side listed, has now taken the second funnel down along with it while an eruption of fire bellowed from the top. The building panic grew louder; water formed in foaming waves roared up the promenade decks; the people in the water, now prey to the cold, swam away from the sinking vessel. The lights were extinguished in the blink of an eye. An echo of snapping metal and breaking wood sang in the night. Geysers of water splashed as the stern fell backwards into the sea.
Two pieces divided while throngs of helpless souls were dragged down with them. The feeling of a cold void was the last sensation felt by over 1,500 people.
RMS Titanic has foundered.
The Atlantic Titan
Chapter 1:
Voyage of Uncertainty
4 1/2 Days Earlier
Southampton, England
April 10th, 1912, 9:25 a.m.
Morning light shined through a window that illuminated a room; a stateroom, decorated and designed with intricate wooden panels, fine carpet, light fixtures and expensive furniture, is presented as one of many scenes that depicted the high standards of luxury. A bed sheet fluttered in the air as a pair of hands flattened the fabric against the bed. A young girl in a stewardess outfit then pulled the comforter, tucking the corners underneath the mattress.
The girl, who had dark hair, dark eyes and a neutral gaze, was tidying the room for the impending arrival of a guest that would soon occupy it. After cleaning up any remnants of dirt that obscured the clean condition of the stateroom, she exits the room and closes the door behind her.
She calmly walked past other crew members that passed by her in the hallway as she was approached by another stewardess; the second stewardess had reddish-brown hair and brown eyes. Her name was Sasha Braus, a Third Class stewardess.
"Miss Ackerman? Have you finished cleaning your assigned rooms yet?" asked Sasha.
"Yes, Sasha," The dark-haired stewardess replied, whose real name was Mikasa Ackerman. "By the way, you don't have to give me any formalities, just call me by my first name."
Sasha sighed. "Wow, for a newcomer, you're quite a hard worker, Mikasa. This is my first time on an ocean liner-a White Star one, no less-and I'm still trying to get the hang of things. You seem like a natural at this job."
"Thank you for your high praise, but really I'm just here to do my job right," Mikasa said in a modest manner.
"Well, the way I see it, you may be the best addition to the Victualling service," Sasha said sincerely, adding a complimentary grin.
"Aren't you supposed to be assigned to the Third Class area? These are the First Class staterooms, you know." reminded Mikasa.
"Huh? Oh, crap, you're right! I'm not even supposed to be here!" Sasha exclaimed as she scurried down the hall, rushing past another stewardess carrying a stack of folded linens in her arms who noticed the other girl go by.
"Let me guess, newcomer?" The stewardess inquired as she spoke with an Irish accent.
"That was just Sasha, she's working in Third Class," Mikasa replied.
"Aye, and you're new as well?" The woman asked as she extended a hand to Mikasa. "How do you do? My name is Violet Jessop, you may call me Violet, if you wish."
Mikasa grasped Violet's palm and shook her hand gingerly. "Mikasa Ackerman."
"Pleasure to meet you, Mikasa," Violet smiled with a welcoming disposition. "I do hope your first voyage goes well. Being a stewardess is not an easy job. Are you sure you can handle it?"
"I am sure of it," Mikasa responded.
"Well, if you need help, just let me or the other stewardesses know," Violet advised. "By the way, could you help me stock the linen closets? There's quite a lot of fabric that needs to be put away."
Mikasa gave an affirmative nod as she took half of Violet's stack as the two continued on down the First Class corridor. Once they strolled past the double doors of the galley, a steward pushing a trolley full of dishes and silverware came out of the galley nearly colliding with the two women.
"Oh, watch out!" Violet raised her voice while the steward pulled back the trolley to avoid hitting the two women; a teacup fell from the trolley, which was halfway to hitting the floor.
Instead of shattering to pieces, however, the cup was caught by Mikasa's spare left hand; her right hand held the small stack of linens as she crouched down to pick the cup up. She delicately places the teacup back onto the trolley as she shifts her cemented poker face to the steward as the latter stared back at her in bewilderment.
"Please be careful next time. We don't want to waste precious china on this ship," Mikasa said as she lightly chastised the clumsy steward.
"Oh, I deeply apologize, Miss. I should've watched where I was going," The man replied, speaking with an English accent as he pushed his trolley and went about his regular duty.
Violet, who was also flabbergasted by the dark-haired girl's coordinated actions, looked at her with a surprised expression. "That was… a nice catch."
"Fortunately, I was able to prevent the accident in time, otherwise there'd be one less cup of tea served for one less passenger." Mikasa said meticulously.
"You're quite committed to your part, Miss Ackerman," The Irish woman said with astonishment.
"Now, then, which way is the linen closet?" Mikasa inquired as Violet pointed down the hallway as they both continued onward.
9:30 a.m.
Outside in the bright sunshine of an early April morning, a mighty ship, the RMS Titanic, was docked in the port of Southampton as it sat idly by while an enormous crowd of people that stretched all the way to the end of the pier looked on at the ship's massive port side with awe. As if an important ceremony was about to take place, the crowd waited in anticipation for the vessel's grand departure like it was about to be an historical event; and, rightfully so, it soon will be.
Cargo cranes loaded the ocean liner with various cargo in barrels and wooden crates into the ship's hold. Ramps that were placed on the pier were pushed towards Titanic's hull as her gangway doors opened, connecting the ship to the dock and allowing access to anyone who boarded the liner.
Back on board the ship, crew members that were working on the upper decks had a clear view of the pier below them. Two stewards were arranging deck chairs as one of them leaned over the enclosed railing on the A-Deck Promenade, looking down on the people standing on the dock.
"Wow, look at that crowd, Armin. There's so many people here," said the young steward, who had short brown hair and teal eyes.
"I'm not at all surprised," The second steward named Armin, who had short blonde hair and blue eyes, said with a smirk. He leans a folded deck chair against the nearest wall as he turned to his friend, "This is the biggest ship that the White Star Line has ever launched, aside from the Olympic, of course."
The brown-haired steward nodded. "More like the biggest in the world. At least it seems that way."
"Yup, this is what all the hype has been building up to," said the blond-haired boy as he rested his arms on the railing. "But, someday, however, I'm gonna build a ship that's even bigger AND faster than Titanic."
"I can't wait to see that," The brown-haired boy grinned hopefully.
"What about you, Eren; you said you wanted to join the Royal Navy, right?" The blond boy asked his friend.
"Yeah, but… I'm not old enough to join. Maybe being a crew member on this ship will help give me some experience at sea." The boy named Eren replied.
"I don't think working as a steward for First Class passengers is the Navy's forté," The blond boy said sheepishly.
"Well, neither would a ship designer," Eren retorted.
"On the contrary, studying this ship's interior and exterior designs might give me some inspiration," The blond boy replied as he pulled out a sketchbook and pencil and started sketching the Promenade deck. "I've already finished the floor plan on the boat deck; now I just need to sketch the rest of A-Deck."
"You've been carrying that sketchbook everywhere you go for a few years, haven't you?" Eren asked.
"Only when I get a chance to observe a ship that comes by every once in awhile," The blond boy said. "Hopefully, I'll be able to draw out the entire ship by the time we get to New York."
"Oy, Jaeger, Arlert!" shouted a steward who came up to the two boys. "We've got passengers coming aboard! You best be ready for them!"
"Yes, sir!" Eren and Armin said in unison as they went off to do their assigned duties.
Boiler Room No. 6
Down in the underbelly of Titanic, firemen (or stokers) and trimmers, were preparing to ignite the ship's massive boilers in preparation for the impending voyage. The leading firemen shouted orders as the crew of coal-workers carried out the commands of their superiors.
Among these men was a young man with light-brown eyes, and a short, light ash-brown undercut; he also donned long pants, a white undershirt and leather boots. His hands and face were already covered in soot from shoveling coal into the furnaces.
"Damn, it's so hot in here," The young man griped as his forehead dripped with sweat. "It would be nice if they had some air conditioning down here."
"Really, Jean? You're not giving up now, are you? I've seen you dump coal into those boilers like a machine during the sea trials." A fellow soot-stained stoker said jokingly; he had short dark hair, freckles and wore a long sleeved button-up shirt, pants and boots.
"I was going through an internal struggle at that point, Marco." The first stoker named Jean Kirschtein said as he frowned.
"Come on, you're one of the best manpower we've got in this hot box," The dark-haired stoker named Marco Bodt said.
"I do have some quality muscles, after all," Jean boasted as he flexed his bicep. "To be frank though, I should've signed on to be a commanding officer up on deck."
"I don't think you'd be qualified for the job," Marco said doubtfully.
"Maybe not now, but just you wait," Jean said with a smug grin. "I'll be in charge of my own crew one day. Hell, I might even be captain."
"Is that so?" said a condescending English accent as Jean turned around to see Frederick Barrett, one of the lead stokers, standing behind him.
"Oh, hey, Mr. Barrett," Jean said sheepishly.
"If you really want to move up in the world, I suggest you get your rear in gear and start moving coal, horse face." ordered Barrett. Jean scowled in embarrassment while Marco chuckled at the obscure comment.
Just then, one of the trimmers named Daz was shoveling a pile of coal from one of the coal bunkers when a mountain of coal came down on top of him.
"HELP! SOMEBODY TURN ON THE LIGHTS!" Daz shouted, whose screams were drowned out by the chunks of coal.
"Goddammit, not again," Fred sweared as he went over to help dig out the unlucky trimmer.
"Well, at least I'm not a trimmer like Daz," Jean retorted.
"Honestly, I wouldn't mind either way as long as I get paid," Marco said modestly. "Maybe once I'm able to earn enough money to live in America, I could help support my Mom and kid brother back in Liverpool."
"Didn't you say you wanted to join the army there?" Jean inquired.
Marco nodded. "Yeah, I've always wanted to help people. That's why I want to join the American military, so that I can build more discipline, you know?"
"I get'cha," Jean replied. "Hey, you don't think I look like a horse, do you?"
"Depends, do you come with a saddle?" teased the dark-haired lad, which made Jean roll his eyes.
11:00 a.m.
Hundreds of passengers arriving by the dozen have already boarded the ship as people from different social backgrounds went through their respective queues. Wealthy First-Class and humble Second-Class passengers went up the elevated gangway ramps to the upper decks of the luxurious liner, but not before presenting their boarding passes to the officers in the gangway.
Third-Class went through a similar process; however, before any of them could step onto the ramp, each passenger had to go through an inspection queue so that the likelihood of a viral infection or an infestation of parasites would be kept to a minimum. Emigrants and lower-class citizens were among the majority of the miscellaneous souls that booked a passage aboard the biggest man-made object that ever sailed the Atlantic.
As for the more fortunate travelers, dozens of passengers with high-class reservations came to Southampton's port via train or vehicle. One automobile in particular arrived at the pier as the driver parked the vehicle and dismounted the car and pulled open the side passenger door; a prominent man with blonde hair, bold eyebrows, and dressed in formal morning attire, stepped out of the carriage.
"So this is the ship that we'll be returning home in?" The blond man inquired.
"Well, it was only one of the few ships that didn't get screwed over by that coal strike a month ago," said a sardonic male voice as another man emerged from the vehicle; he was a fairly short man with short black hair who wore a similar outfit in comparison to the blond man and donned a cravat around his neck. "Consider yourself lucky since we don't have to extend our vacation time here in Europe."
Another person stepped out of the automobile as well, who was revealed to be a woman with dark brown hair tied into a ponytail and brown eyes; she wore rectangular glasses and a casual, but presentable dress, which was slightly in contrast with the men's formal style.
She looks up at the towering port side of the ship that stood out like a monument among the other vessels that were docked in the area. The woman's eyes glimmered with radiance and ecstatic passion as she gazed at the ship.
"She's… she's beautiful," She said with a joyful expression and tears in her eyes. "Just look at her gorgeous port side and her massive hull! And those funnels, oh… those may be the finest cylinder smokestacks that I have ever seen! I can tell, she's more seaworthy than any other liner around this barnacle-encrusted barge!"
"Just what are you going on about, Hange? It's just a big-ass ship," The shorter man replied.
"She's more than just a big ship, Levi!" The woman addressed as Hange Zoë explained to the man named Levi Ackerman. "That is the Royal Mail Steamer, Titanic! Everyone in the United Kingdom has been talking about her since the day she was laid down in Belfast!"
"I see, so this is the new Olympic Class liner the White Star Line has been advertising for awhile now?" surmised the blonde man named Erwin Smith. "I will admit, it certainly does look remarkable for a British ship."
"And we're one of the first people to set sail on her maiden voyage! Ooh, I'm getting all tingly just thinking about it!" Hange shivered with excitement.
"You're not gonna have another major freak out like you did on the Mauretania, are you, Four-Eyes?" Levi asked cautiously.
"Trust me, Levi, I can keep my composure this time around," assured the eccentric woman as she took a deep breath and corrected her demeanor.
"Well, then, we don't have time to stand around all day; let's gather our belongings and board the ship as soon as possible," Erwin said urgently.
Levi and Hange nodded sincerely as the driver assisted them in unloading their luggage from the back of the carriage.
"After the ship leaves Southampton, it will make a few port of calls to Cherbourg and Queenstown," Erwin elaborated. "The rest of the Ackerman party will arrive in Cherbourg as planned."
"According to our boarding passes, our staterooms should be located on B-Deck," Levi said as he pulled out his boarding pass for Titanic.
"We are going to be staying in separate rooms, right?" Hange asked.
"As per the norm," Levi replied as the trio made their way towards the First-Class boarding ramps.
Erwin went up the ramp first while Levi and Hange followed close behind him; one woman that preceded the trio stood before the officer at the gangway door.
"Good morning, ma'am, do you have your boarding pass with you?" The officer inquired.
"Certainly," The woman said politely as she showed her boarding pass to the officer, who studied the pass and gave a nod of confirmation to her.
"All right, you may come aboard. Right this way, please," The officer directed the woman towards the gangway entrance as she stepped through the threshold. Erwin, Levi, and Hange approached the officer as they presented their passes. "Good morning, sir. Are you all traveling together?"
"Indeed. We're from the Ackerman party," said Erwin.
"I see," The officer said as he analyzed Erwin's pass. "'Erwin Smith,' is it? And you're embarking with a party of seven?"
"Yes, the other members are joining us on our first port of call," The blond man replied.
"All right, let me just check the rest of your passes," The officer said as Levi and Hange gave him their passes. "'Levi Ackerman' and 'Hange Zoë,' Ackerman party. Well, then, everything checks out, welcome to Titanic."
Erwin nodded as he walks through the gangway threshold as Levi soon followed; but not before Hange glances back at the officer in the gangway. "You know, you should be quite honored that you get to serve on the largest moving object ever made by man."
"Ah, I'm humbled, ma'am. After all, not even God himself can sink this ship," The officer said boastingly as he smiled.
"Oh, yeah? Well, God also has a sense of humor," Levi retorted. "If I were you, I probably wouldn't put my money where my mouth is."
Hange grinned sheepishly. "Don't mind him, he's a bit of an extreme realist."
"None taken, ma'am. So long as you and your group enjoy the rest of your trip," The officer replied humbly as Hange walked by him and entered the gangway.
11:55 a.m.
"Last call for passengers!" yelled one of the officers as the remaining passengers boarded Titanic before her departure from England.
As soon as there were no longer any passengers left, the dock workers were starting to pull the ramps back when a young boy with a shaved head carrying a bag over his shoulders came running towards the Third-Class ramp. "Wait! Stop! Don't leave!"
The boy ran up the boarding ramp towards the forward Third-Class gangway until he stopped at the wide gap that stood between him and the ship; he panted with exhaustion after running for a prolonged period. He handed his boarding pass to the officer in the gangway.
"I'm… a… passenger. I have… a ticket." The young man said exhaustively.
"Have you already passed the inspection queue?" The officer asked.
"Yeah, I've been through inspection! I don't have any hair, so of course I don't have lice!" The boy stated.
"All right, come aboard," affirmed the officer as the young boy jumped the gap and entered the Third-Class gangway; once the last passenger passed through the gangway, the officer orders two able seamen to close the gangway door.
The boy gave out a sigh of relief, "Man, I can't believe I almost missed my boat. That would've been a nightmare." He then pulled out his boarding pass and read the information that was written on his pass: Titanic, Conny Springer, Third-Class, Sailing April 10th, 1912.
12:00 p.m.
Titanic's whistle gave a monstrous blare as the dock workers loosened the ship's mooring ropes and her anchors were raised out of the water, which freed the vessel from from being bound to the harbor. Passengers lined up on the decks as they bid farewell to Southampton and its people. The crowd on the pier erupted with many cheers and goodbyes to the newly conceived ocean liner as if it was some sort of parade float.
On the bridge of the colossal liner, Captain Edward Smith stood on the port side of the bridge as one of the officers came up to the captain. "We are ready to depart, sir." reported the officer.
Captain Smith turned to the officer with a diligent grin, "Good. Bring her out of port, Lowe. Steady as she goes."
"Aye, sir," replied Fifth Officer Lowe as he entered the Wheelhouse and gave his orders to the sailors as they turn the engine order telegraph to Slow, sending the orders to the Engine Room. "Slow the engines, men."
The ship's boilers were immediately lit as soon as the order was given out; the stokers began shoveling coal into the furnaces to give the engines enough steam power. As the steam was generated into the engines, the engineers activated the turbines, which made the three triple-screw propellers rotate at its slowest speed.
With the assistance of tugboats, Titanic slowly pulled out of her berth as hundreds of her passengers cheered and waved goodbye to Southampton. At the forward promenade on B-Deck, Erwin Smith, Levi Ackerman and Hanji Zoë were among those that watched the ship leave port; the brown-haired woman waved to the people on the pier as did Erwin, while Levi leaned against the railing as he folded his arms in an aloof position.
Once Titanic has pulled out of her berth, her next destination would be a straight shot across the English Channel; but before she could proceed any further, the ship has already encountered her first obstacle.
As Titanic sailed past two smaller vessels, the SS City of New York and the Oceanic, the large currents emanating from the bigger ship's sheer size churned the water and lifted the two liners; SS New York was shaken and strained by the small turbulence in the water so much, that the vessel's mooring cables snapped. The smaller liner's stern drifted heavily towards Titanic with no bearings to keep it from colliding with the latter.
Captain Smith sees the SS New York's stern swing out in front of Titanic's bow and immediately takes action, "Stop the engines! Hard to Port!" ordered Smith.
The helmsman turns the ship's telemotor as the telegraphs were turned to 'All Stop'; the engines were immediately stopped as the rudder turns the ship to starboard and away from the SS New York, while another tugboat throws another mooring line onto the adrift liner, preventing the possible collision.
Onlookers on the decks of Titanic witnessed the near-collision unfold beneath them. Erwin and his small group looked down at the drifting SS New York, "Well, that was quite a near-miss." Erwin commented.
"I know," Hange said as a glimmer of intrigue shined in her eyes. "We haven't even left the harbor yet and I'm already impressed by this ship's smooth maneuvering."
"I'd be more concerned about the fact that we almost struck another ship," Levi replied.
"Ah, but we didn't, did we?" Hange retorted as she gave a slightly smug smirk.
"We may as well have left Southampton anyway. Since we're already on board, let's all head to our staterooms and unpack our things." Erwin said as he heads inside the ship while Levi followed him.
The shorter man then turned to Hange as the latter was daydreaming, "You coming, Hange?"
The brown-haired woman almost immediately snaps out of her trance and faces Levi, "Oh, yeah, you go on ahead. I'm just gonna be out here for awhile."
"Fine, just don't fall overboard this time," forewarned Levi while Hange replied with an affirmative wave as she continued to admire the ship's intricate interior.
Third-Class Berths (F-Deck)
Down in the lower decks of the ship, Steerage passengers were being situated into their cabins as many families and single travelers were exploring the tight corridors in search of their assigned berths.
Conny Springer, a Third-Class passenger, was looking for his bunk among the cramped hallways that were crowded with other people passing through. He glanced up at the labeled doorways in hopes of finding the cabin that matched the number on his ticket. He frowned with annoyance as he continued to navigate the Third-Class area on F-Deck.
"Christ, this place is like a maze," Conny muttered. "I'll die of old age by the time I find my cabin."
The further he went down the hall, the less crowded it got; the sound of the ventilation was the only noise that Conny could hear in the background other than the echoes of other people nearby. He finally came across the Third-Class dining saloon, where some of the Steerage passengers were already having lunch. The boy's stomach growled as the smell of food triggered his appetite.
He sets his bag down next to him on the floor as he pulled up a chair and sat down at an empty table. A complimentary dinner roll was left on his plate, to which he eats. Just then, another young man with blonde hair came up and sat across across from Conny.
"Hey, nice to meet ya," greeted the young man.
Conny glanced at the boy as he was chewing his roll; he swallowed the chewed up bread before speaking, "Uh, hey, what's up?"
"Sorry if I interrupted your eating, I just wanted to introduce myself," The young man said apologetically.
"Nah, you're fine." Conny replied while wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "Wouldn't mind making a few friends, I guess. Name's Conny Springer."
"Thomas Wagner, I'm from Liverpool," replied the young man as he extended a hand to Conny as the latter returned it with a handshake.
"Where are you from, by the way?" Thomas asked.
"Ragako, it's a pretty small village that's close to Southampton," said Conny.
"So, you're going to America right?" asked the blond boy.
"Yeah, there's not a lot of high-paying jobs anywhere else, and I heard they had some construction jobs in Boston." Conny explained.
"I'm also looking for a job in the Midwest," Thomas replied. "But I spent most of my savings for my ticket to New York. I dunno what I'm gonna do when I get there."
"I'm sure you'll think of something," Conny said reassuringly.
"I'm hope you're right," Thomas said sheepishly.
"By the way, do you know where my cabin might be?" Conny asked.
"What number is it?"
"See for yourself," said Conny as he showed his boarding pass to the boy.
"Hey, that's my cabin!" Thomas said in a bright tone. "Guess you and I are bunkmates."
"Great. You can just show me where the cabin is after I eat." Conny said as he rubbed his stomach in hunger.
As the two of them chatted amongst themselves, a stewardess walked by Conny when they hear a hard thump coming from behind her; they turned towards Sasha, the stewardess, while the latter froze in place when they noticed her presence. Conny looks down at the floor to see a potato roll on its own.
The bald boy picked up the potato curiously, "What the heck? Where'd this come from?"
"Uh, you shouldn't eat that! It's contaminated!" Sasha warned the Steerage passenger.
"But it's only been on the floor for a second," said Conny. "It should be good to eat, right?"
She then hastily snatches the potato from Conny, "I cannot in good conscious let any passengers get sick on this ship, especially after eating a raw potato that hasn't been washed after being subsequently dropped on a contaminated floor!"
"She does have a point. For all we know, there could be a plague roaming around the ship as we speak." Thomas said as he spoke in a hushed tone.
"Frankly, I'd be more concerned about the rats on board, if there are any." Conny retorted.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to throw out this filthy potato. Enjoy your lunch now." Sasha said politely as she carried on with the potato in hand.
"Well, that was weird," Conny said awkwardly but he shrugged it off as a steward came to take their lunch orders.
Down the Third-Class corridor, as soon as she knew that she was out of sight, Sasha dove straight into a small closet where she could be alone; she quietly closes the door behind her and locked it.
"Finally, now that I'm all by myself, it's just you and me, my friend." Sasha said with a sensual grin as her composed face came undone while she held the potato in one hand and pulled out another from the breast of her uniform; she gives the potato a gluttonous lick.
First-Class Staterooms (B-Deck)
A door to a leisurely cabin opened as the young steward, Eren Jaeger, showed First-Class passenger, Levi Ackerman, to his assigned stateroom; the decor of the room itself was inspired by different period styles as the polished wall panels, carved from different types of exotic wood, exhibited their premium condition.
Levi examined the room while the steward gave the man a tour of the room and its modern conveniences, "Here is your personal cabin, sir. I hope you will find it to your liking."
"Yes. Everything looks to be in order," Levi replied as he scanned the entire room.
"There is a bathroom with running water and an electric heater for when it gets cold," Eren said as he noticed the short man pull out a white handkerchief and wiped the underside of the round table in the center of the room. "Is something the matter, sir?"
"Has this stateroom been well-kept?" Levi asked.
Eren nodded. "Yes, sir. Every room has been cleaned and tidied for every passenger."
Levi silently inspected the handkerchief as he found no dirt underneath the table; he then glances over to the mantle, where upon closer examination, he notices a grayish layer settled on the wooden surface. He wipes the mantle with the handkerchief, revealing it to be none other than dust. A small frown shifted as he looked at the now dirty piece of fabric with disdain.
"'Cleaned and tidied', you say?" questioned Levi as he looked at the young man in front of him with a grave disposition, as if he had been insulted to the highest degree. "More like deplorable and haphazard."
Realizing the severe-although, somewhat exaggerated-error that had been made, Eren bowed apologetically, "I-I'm sorry, sir. I'll have the mantle be dusted and-"
"No, that won't be enough," Levi replied with a strict conviction. "I want this room to be scrubbed from top to bottom until there's no speck of dirt left. From now on, while I'm still on this ship for the remainder of the voyage, I expect this stateroom to stay that way from the moment I wake up to when I retire in the evening. Otherwise, somebody is gonna be thrown overboard for their laziness. Got it?"
Eren tensed up as he realized how demanding and intimidating this passenger's demeanor was, so he gave an immediate nod and replied, "Yes, sir!"
"Good. I'm off to lunch. Don't forget what I've told you," reminded Levi as he opened the door to his stateroom, passed through the doorway and closed the door behind him.
As soon as the man left, Eren's shoulders loosened and gave a sigh of relief, "Man, I never knew First-Class passengers could be so strict. He's like some kind of drill sergeant."
First-Class Reception (D-Deck)
4:00 p.m.
Hours after Titanic's near-collision with the SS City of New York in Southampton, she was already back on her scheduled course as she crossed the English Channel. Meanwhile, the time for Luncheon has passed and Afternoon Tea was already being served for the English passengers in First-Class.
The reception room on the D-Deck landing of the Grand Staircase was packed with sophisticated ladies and fine gentlemen who came to socialize with one another. People ascended and descended the staircase as they moved past the glistening candelabra that adorned the center railing. A quintet of musicians, two violinists, a cellist, a bassist, and a pianist played "On the Beautiful Blue Danube" over the sounds of polite banter and clinking dishes which gave this area an aura of elegance.
Armin Arlert, the blond-haired steward, was pushing a trolley that carried a teapot filled with tea, teacups, utensils, pastries, and finger foods around the reception room; his task was to serve the First-Class passengers a cup of tea and small treats to tide them over before dinner in the evening. His first day as a steward, however, has proven to be a challenge for the young man.
Many thoughts went through his mind as he served tea to each passenger. His hands would tremble when he poured the tea, which made the possibility of spilling a calamitous scenario. Fortunately, he has performed well despite his anxious disposition and fear of making a dire mistake; that is, until he has an interesting encounter in a very unexpected way.
"Here is your tea, sir-" A pot full of hot tea suddenly spilled out as the porcelain lid of the teapot slipped off and exposed its contents; a warm puddle of the herbal beverage splashed onto the wooden table. Armin's composure dissipated as it shifted to a look of horror. The man at the table was surprised at the small mishap, but he kept calm even though there is hot tea dripping on his lap.
"I'm so sorry, sir! I should've held the lid down while I was pouring! I can't believe I was so careless!" Armin said frantically as he mopped up the tea with a dry towel. "Don't worry, sir, I'll get you more tea!"
"It's all right, lad. Accidents happen," The man said reassuringly as he spoke with a natural Irish accent.
"Is there a problem here, sir?" A steward said as he came up to Armin and the Irishman.
"I'm-I'm really sorry! I-I made a mistake and I-" Armin came out stuttering.
"Blimey, that's a lot of tea you just spilled! Do you know how much you just wasted?" The steward exclaimed in a scoldful tone, which only made Armin withdraw in shame.
"Don't be too hard on him. It was just a spill, no harm done." The man replied with a humble grin. "I mean, I did get a wee bit of tea on my trousers, but nothing more than that."
The steward nodded, "Right. Arlert, when you're done cleaning up that tea, go finish serving the other passengers. I'll bring a fresh pot over to replace the one you done wasted."
Once the slightly livid steward left, Armin continued to wipe the table, "You didn't have to stick up for me, sir. Not that I'm ungrateful or anything, but I still would've taken full responsibility regardless."
"Well, you seemed rather anxious for a moment there. After all, you didn't have to be absconded too harshly, especially not for a tea spill." The Irishman explained.
"I was pretty nervous, wasn't I?" Armin said sheepishly as he hands the man another dry hand towel. "Here. Hopefully, it'll help sop up the wet spots on your clothes."
"Much obliged," The gentleman thanked the young boy as he dried the tea stains on his pants. "Anyways, I think I'll head back to my stateroom. I have something that I need to tend to."
"What about your Afternoon Tea, sir?" inquired Armin.
"Ah, don't trouble yourself; I'll have it sent to my room," The man said as he gave the now damp towel back to Armin and shared a polite nod. "Good day."
Armin reciprocated the nod as the Irishman climbed the Grand Staircase and disappeared to the upper decks. The blond steward then placed the towels back onto the trolley as well as the china and silverware before carrying on with his duty. Three First-Class women sitting from afar, who saw the minor incident unfold, started chatting to each other. Armin was within earshot as he inadvertently picked up on their discreet conversation:
"My, I simply both admire and envy that man for having such a mild temper." said one lady.
"If I had hot tea spilled on me, especially if it was on one of my favorite designer clothing, I would have had that young boy hauled off the ship for poor service." The second lady commented as she fanned herself with a paper fan.
"Nevermind that clumsy steward, did you happen to notice who that man was?" reminded the third lady.
"Who?" asked the first lady.
"That was Thomas Andrews! The man who built this ship!"
"You don't say?" The second lady said with a semblance of intrigue.
"Why, I didn't even recognize him at all," The first lady replied.
The name that the third woman mentioned struck Armin like a zap of lightning; he knew that name all too well, as if it gave him a sense of nostalgia. While he tuned out the rest of the irrelevant conversation from the three women, a thought crossed his mind, "Wait, it couldn't be him. There's no way HE could be here! Unless…"
Armin gazed upon the top of the Grand Staircase as he saw the aforementioned man talk to another man that may have been one of his associates. The man that stood on top landing of the tiled wooden stairs and the glowing candelabra, was Thomas Andrews: The architect of the RMS Titanic.
Cherbourg, France
SS Nomadic and SS Traffic
6:30 p.m.
In the midst of a slow sunset, two tender boats sailed across the water from the port of Cherbourg as hundreds of travelers were being ferried from shore. Among the people on the Nomadic were First and Second-Class passengers that were either returning or visiting the United States on business or leisure trips; the typical Steerage passengers on the other tender, the Traffic, were also emigrating to America in search for work or asylum.
On the bow of the Third-Class tender, a petite blonde girl with blue eyes, who donned a commoner dress, overlooked the teal surface of the sea as the Traffic scuttled through the water. Beside her was a tall, freckled girl with brown hair tied into a ponytail. Her attire consisted of a buttoned-up shirt, sleeves rolled up, long baggy pants, normal-sized boots, a jacket and overalls, which made her style and appearance more masculine in comparison to the blonde girl beside her.
Some women and a couple of men gave odd glances to the taller girl's appearance and were both curious and confused about her actual gender, to which she ignores. She then spoke as she rested her elbows on the railing, leaned her left cheek against the palm of her hand while displaying a bored expression. "So, when do we finally get off of this raft, already?"
"I think our ship is just ahead of us," The short girl replied as she pointed to the four-funneled liner in the distance. "It looks pretty big."
The tall girl scoffed, "It's not that big, it's just like any other boat in the water: it's moderately large and it floats. Boom… mind blown."
"That's because it's far away." The blonde girl surmised.
"Whatever, I still stand by my statement." The tall girl said arrogantly. "Doesn't matter how big the ship is, anyway. We'll definitely be living below deck for an entire week. But if we're lucky, we might be sleeping next to the boiler room."
"I'm sure it won't be so bad," The short girl responded.
"Yeah, 'cause at least the boilers will keep us warm when it gets cold," The freckled girl replied with a sarcastic tone.
"That's not what I meant, Ymir." The blonde girl said with a blank stare.
"Believe me, Christa, I've traveled in Third Class long enough to know what hell we're about to experience." The tall girl named Ymir forewarned to her friend, Christa.
"Well, I think we'll be fine for the most part. I heard that our ship is from White Star, the shipping company from England." Christa said assuringly.
"Oh, that's right, I've been on one of their ships before," Ymir said as she turned and leaned her back against the railing. "It wasn't the best voyage I've been on, but the quality of my cheap accommodations weren't so bad."
"Ymir, have you ever been to America before?" Christa asked.
"I've been around some parts of Europe for awhile. But outside of here, I'm pretty much in the same boat as everyone else," Ymir replied as she realized that she was on a boat. "Uh, no pun intended."
"Woah…" Christa said breathlessly as she glanced upwards.
"What?" Ymir then looked up to see the towering mass of an ocean liner that dwarfed over the tender boats like a tall building; her lights glowed as night soon followed the setting sun. The girl was momentarily in awe as she observed the ship's impressive scale. "Holy shit. You were right, that thing is huge."
The Traffic made its way around to the ship's port side as the passengers got a glimpse of the bold nameplates on the hull of the stern section: TITANIC - LIVERPOOL.
"It's definitely bigger than 'moderately large'," Christa commented while Ymir nodded in agreement.
The SS Traffic then circled to the aft gangway doors as the crewmen on board Titanic opened the doors to allow passengers from Steerage to come aboard. The other travelers gathered their belongings as they set foot onto the wooden ramp and walked onto the larger vessel.
"Well, no time like the present, let's get on board," Ymir said as she and Christa grabbed their luggage and joined the rest of the embarking Steerage passengers.
First-Class Gangway (D-Deck)
The bellboys and stewards stood in the foyer of the First-Class reception room as they awaited the arrival of the extra passengers that were disembarking from the tender boat, the SS Nomadic. Eren, Mikasa, and Armin waited with the rest of the Victualling crew as they are about to greet some very prominent figures.
The gangway doors opened as a boarding ramp met with the open threshold. The first to set foot onto Titanic's deck was a tall gentleman accompanied by a young woman, two other men, the gentleman's valet and chauffeur, and the woman's maid.
He approached a steward and stewardess as they greeted him and his party, "Welcome aboard, sir. May I take your bags?" The steward asked politely.
"Why, yes, would you mind carrying mine up to B82 and Miss Aubart's to B35?" The gentleman requested as his valet and chauffeur handed the bags to the steward while another steward took the woman's bags from the maid and escorted her to the cabin.
Just as the gentleman and his lady walked by the lifts, Levi Ackerman, who was carrying a manila envelope in his hands, and Hange Zoë stepped out of the middle elevator as they notice the man give the woman a kiss on each cheek.
"Was that Benjamin Guggenheim?" Levi inquired.
"Clearly it was since he just waltzed right by us with his lover," Hange retorted.
"Mr. Ackerman?" Eren said as he sees the short man enter the lobby.
"You again? Have you cleaned my room and followed my exact orders?" Levi asked the steward.
Eren nodded, "Yes, sir. I have made sure that your accommodations are kept to your liking."
"I'll see for myself when I return to my cabin," Levi replied sternly as he and Hange walked past Eren and the others.
"Is that the man you're charged with?" Mikasa asked.
"Yeah, he's very keen on everything being neat and tidy," Eren explained. "God, I hope I didn't miss anything in his stateroom."
As the reception area became more crowded with incoming passengers, a woman in a feathered period dress and a large hat who carried a couple of bulky suitcases, entered the reception through the gangway entrance; Armin was the first to approach this woman as he offered to carry her luggage.
"Do you need help with your bags, ma'am?" Armin gestured to the woman.
"Ya sure about that, sonny? I'm practically carrying bricks over here." The woman said with a Southern accent.
"I'm sure I can handle it, ma'am," Armin replied with a courteous smile.
"Well, ya seem feeble enough to me. Here ya go, slugger." The woman chuckled while she handed the steward her luggage, which proved to be a challenge for the feeble boy as he struggled to carry the suitcases.
"Could I… have your name please, ma'am? So that I… may locate your… cabin?" Armin inquired while he lifted the luggage with tremendous stress.
"Name's Margaret Brown, darlin'. I believe my cabin is somewhere up on B-Deck, if I can recall," The Southern woman replied.
"Yes... Mrs. Brown… let me escort… you to your cabin…" Armin wheezed as he carried the suitcases to the elevators while the lady followed.
"Well, aren't you a little gentleman? Remind me to give you a tip on the way up," Brown said humorously as they entered the lift and were sent up to the higher decks.
Another couple entered the gangway as an older man linked arms with a much younger woman while he held the leash of an Airedale Terrier that walked alongside them; they were also followed by the man's valet and the woman's maid and nurse. Mikasa approached the couple as the dark-haired stewardess greeted them.
"Welcome to Titanic. My name is Mikasa Ackerman and I will be assisting you for today," Mikasa greeted as she politely bowed to the couple.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Mikasa," The young woman replied with a smile.
"While you escort us to our staterooms, Miss Ackerman, would you mind fetching a steward to carry our belongings?" The older gentleman requested.
"Actually, I would gladly carry your luggage for you if you'd like," Mikasa offered.
"Oh, I don't think that would be necessary, miss. Our suitcases are quite heavy, so it would be best if-" The man replied while Mikasa retrieved the suitcases from the valet as she handled the heavy baggage with ease.
"Is that all, sir?" The stewardess inquired, still toting the heavy suitcases.
"Um… well…" The man said sheepishly as his young wife tugged his arm.
"What about Kitty?" She asked while pointing to the Airedale.
"Allow me to take your dog to the kennel, sir." Eren insisted.
"All right, be very gentle with Kitty, young man and treat him like he's a fellow passenger." advised the man as he handed the leash to the steward.
"Understood, sir." Eren nodded as he walked Kitty to the kennel.
Hange then noticed the couple that entered the foyer and immediately recognized the gentleman. "Is that John Jacob Astor?"
"Great, it looks like First-Class has gotten 60% richer, now." Levi said sarcastically.
"He also brought his wife along, too," Hange said as she leaned in closer to Levi and spoke in a low whisper. "I hear she's in a delicate condition."
"I don't delve into gossip. That sort of thing is for social parasites," Levi said bluntly.
"Oh, so I'm a parasite?" Hange inquired, who was also slightly offended by the lowbrow statement.
"Exactly," Levi retorted, which made Hange roll her eyes in response.
Not long after the first group of passengers disembarked from the Nomadic, a young woman with light-ginger hair and light-brown eyes soon entered the foyer with a small suitcase in hand. She then noticed the short man and the brown-haired woman waiting by the elevators and immediately waved to them.
"Corporal Ackerman! Miss Zoë!" The woman called over to Levi and Hange.
"Miss Petra, it's about time you came aboard." Levi responded to the woman who was addressed as Petra Ral, Levi's secretary.
"Where's Colonel Erwin?" Petra asked.
"He's in his cabin right now. He should be getting ready for dinner right about now." Hange replied.
Another man with a light brown undercut and a cravat donned around his neck came up beside Petra, "I don't know about you, but after being on that dinghy for awhile, I could use a drink."
"You always need a drink, don't you, Oruo?" Petra sighed, who addressed the man as Oruo Bozad.
"I agree, I'm thirsty as hell right about now," said a dark-haired man named Gunther Schultz who was accompanied by another man with blond hair tied into a bun and a goatee named Eld Gin.
"There's no need for the language, Mr. Schultz," scolded Eld.
"Well, I am. Is there any other way of saying it?" Gunther retorted.
"All right, Lieutenants, let's not screw around here," ordered Levi. "Find your cabins and get dressed for dinner; Petra, take this envelope to the Purser's Office on C-Deck and tell them to store the envelope under the Colonel's name."
"Yes, sir." Petra nodded as Levi gives her the envelope and the young woman proceeds to climb up the Grand Staircase to the Purser's Office; meanwhile the other men carried their belongings to their cabins with the aid of stewards up to the higher decks.
"Are you sure can trust anyone with that envelope? You heard what Erwin said, right?" Hange asked.
Levi turned to the brown-haired woman with a sincere look, "I have known these Lieutenants and Miss Ral for awhile. If there was any reason not to trust them, I wouldn't have given the envelope to anybody, especially Petra."
Hange gave an affirmative nod as she took the Lance Corporal's word to heart. With all that was said and done, Levi retreats to the staircase with the woman in tow.
RMS Titanic
9:00 p.m.
Shortly after leaving Cherbourg, Titanic's first night came as she headed northwest to her next port of call. Her lights shined bright among the dark waters of the English Channel as her powerful engines and rapid propellers pushed her through the dark hours of the night. Cold wind blew swiftly against the ship, but it wasn't strong enough to even sway her.
In Boiler Room No. 6, the stokers continued to work through the heat of the blazing boilers, shoveling tons of coal per minute; two of these soot-stained stokers, Jean Kirschtein and Marco Bodt, wiped the profuse sweat from their foreheads while they worked to their body's ability.
"Kirschtein! Bodt!" Chief Fireman Fred Barrett hollered as the duo stopped shoveling. "You two can stop shovelin' now. I've got some more guys to fill in for you for tonight. Take it easy, now."
"Wait, it's night, already?" Jean asked.
"I guess time goes by when you're sweating," joked Marco.
"Speaking of sweating, I've sweated so much I should take a shower. I haven't had one since yesterday," Jean said as he sniffed himself.
"Working with the boilers 'oughta do it for you," Marco replied as the two headed towards the ladder and up to the crew bunks.
Just then, Trimmer Daz was walking along the catwalk above the coal bunkers when he tripped and fell into the coal again. "Guys?! A little help!"
"Walk it off, Daz," snarked Jean as he and Marco climbed the ladder; Daz merely sighs as he struggled to get out of the coal bunker.
Third-Class Berths (F-Deck)
As most of the Third-Class passengers were getting ready for bed, Conny Springer sat up on the bottom bunk reading a newspaper as his bunkmate, Thomas Wagner, was lying down on the top bunk.
"Hey, when are you going to bed?" Thomas asked groggily.
"As soon as I'm done reading the Sports page," Conny replied as he continued to read the article.
"Could you turn off the light when you're done?" Thomas asked.
"I'm on it," Conny said as he puts down the newspaper, picked up his shoe and threw it towards the light switch, turning the lights off as it flipped the switch and hit the floor.
"Did you just throw your shoe?" Thomas asked with bewilderment.
"Yup, I did," Conny said as he pulled the blanket over his body. "Well, good night."
"Night, Conny," Thomas said as he laid back down and closed his eyes as the two of them went to sleep.
Levi's Stateroom
Once Levi returned to his stateroom, he first scanned the entire room to see if the stewards cleaned everything in the room. He looked on the mantle to see it dust-free; he checked under the table to find it wiped clean; he also checked the latrine and found no grime or stains on the porcelain toilet or sink.
When he was through with his inspection, he nodded with contempt as he prepared himself for bed. He slips into his pajamas, pulled the comforter and the blankets back gently, flattening the soft texture of the mattress.
Just then, a soft knock came at the door; Levi calmly walks up to the door and opens it. The steward, Eren Jaeger, was waiting at the door with a tea tray of warm milk and biscuits for the short man.
"I have your milk and biscuits, sir," Jaeger said as Levi takes the tray from the steward.
"Thank you, Mr… Jaeger, was it?" inquired Levi.
"Yes, sir," Eren nodded in reply.
"All right, Jaeger, I'll leave the tray outside the door when I'm done with it," Levi said as he was about to close the door when Eren stopped him.
"Uh, sir?" Eren asked.
"What is it?" Levi asked.
"I don't mean to pry, sir, but-" Eren was about to say when the Lance Corporal interjected.
"Whatever it is, can it wait until tomorrow?" Levi requested. "I have a strict sleep schedule and I don't want to be interrupted."
Eren closed his mouth as he decided to keep the current thought in his head to himself. "Of course, sir. I apologize."
"Would you mind closing the door for me as well? As you can see I have my hands full at the moment," Levi asked while Eren nodded and complied.
After Eren shuts the cabin door, he quietly sighs as he turns away from the stateroom and walked down the hall.
Stewardess Quarters
Mikasa Ackerman sat at her bunk in her nightgown while she brushed her short black hair as Sasha Braus held a hand mirror in front of the girl. Another stewardess in her sleepwear sat next to Mikasa's bunk, who noticed the red scarf that the dark-haired girl kept beside her.
"That is a lovely scarf, Miss Ackerman," The stewardess complimented the young girl. "I've noticed you've been wearing that all day."
"Yes, I have. What about it?" inquired Mikasa.
"No reason, I just didn't think we were allowed to wear anything else other than the uniforms that they gave us." said the stewardess.
"Oh, that's right! You have been wearing that scarf since we left Southampton," Sasha said.
"It's a gift from a friend," Mikasa replied.
"Your friend must be really special. You carry it wherever you go, so the one who gave it to you must also be important as well," surmised the stewardess.
"Is it a boy? It's definitely a boy, right?" questioned Sasha.
"Actually, yes, it is a boy," Mikasa replied. "I grew up with him."
"So he's a childhood friend, then?" The other stewardess asked.
Mikasa's face turned a pinkish-red as she turned away, "Yes, he is."
"Would you two leave her be?" Violet Jessop said sternly as she came into the cabin in her sleepwear. "You're making her redder than a radish."
"Sorry, Violet," The stewardess apologized as she finally minds to herself.
"So how was your day, Mikasa? You didn't get into any trouble did you?" inquired Jessop.
"No, ma'am, everything turned out fine as it should," Mikasa replied.
"Good. Your first time on an ocean liner must've been an experience, hasn't it?" Jessop asked.
"It's not how I would describe it exactly. All I did was clean rooms and assist passengers the entire day." The dark-haired girl explained.
"Aye, well, that's the life of a stewardess. The more time you spend at sea the more adapted you are." The Irish woman replied. "Now, then, I believe it is time to go to bed. Tomorrow, we have more passengers coming aboard from Queenstown; we best be ready for that."
Mikasa nodded as she, Sasha, Violet and the other stewardesses settled in for the night; the lights flickered off, and the occupants of the cabin soon drifted off to sleep. Mikasa, however, stayed awake for awhile until she felt her eyes growing heavier with each passing minute until she finally gave in and fell asleep.
The first day of Titanic's voyage, has come to a close.