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Ch.11- "Intrigue"
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As the chill of winter crept into the southern reaches of humanity's stronghold, expeditions slowed, and as a whole, the atmosphere of the Survey Corps relaxed as it usually did around this time. They all remained blissfully unaware of the noose tightening around their collective necks. Only the commander and maybe his lieutenant knew just how dire their straits were… and Erwin, of course, but his information didn't come from briefings of what Commander-in-Chief Zachary said, oh no. That would be too easy. No, his information came from a much closer, yet unconventional source.
Caitlin Glass was the wife of Lord Richard Glass, the daughter of Lord Augustine Dominic, a distant descendant of the famed Inocencios, and, the only thing pertinent to Erwin, Lord Nicholas Lobov's goddaughter. The woman loved prattling on and on about her lineage, her superb breeding, and her frigid marriage. She was shallow, bigoted, and utterly insipid, which, honestly, didn't seem to be entirely her fault. Her cage may have been more luxurious than anything people living south of Wall Sina could ever imagine, but it was far smaller as well, and that luxury came at the price of not even being allowed to think for herself.
She'd confessed in one letter that she kept their correspondences locked in her jewelry box because her husband would not even let her read books he didn't approve of. Erwin had pitied her for a moment, until he reached the next paragraph where she confirmed his suspicions that she was reading his letters with one hand, lovingly describing what the other hand was usually doing. They didn't make water hot enough to wash away the sin that clung to his very soul.
Alas, tucked between her laments of desiring the kind of simple, romanticized life that only people who had never actually been poor could imagine, and the increasingly vulgar descriptions of what she fantasized doing with Erwin when her husband was on top of her, were nuggets of information even the Premier probably wasn't privy to. Several wealthy merchants had bought their way onto the council which brought matters before the Assembly, and they had banded together with no less than three noble families to form a "Dissolution Faction" of sorts, whose current goal was disbanding the Survey Corps and reallocating those funds directly into their own greedy pockets.
How did a noblewoman know such things? Her husband, father and godfather were the ones using their positions to bend Lord Clemons' ear to convince him, and the rest of the Assembly, to continuously slash the Corps' funding. They often had meetings in her home, speaking openly about what they were doing, rarely if ever noticing her even when she was standing in the same room as them. Reading these letters, Erwin transcribed the important details in his own script, tucking the originals into a large envelope and hiding them under a false bottom he'd installed in one of his drawers specifically for this purpose.
As much as he'd have preferred to simply burn the letters, lest they incriminate his hapless conspirator (and also because she'd confessed to rubbing her breasts against one letter, and he was not happy to think about where the others had been rubbed), there might come a time when he would need first-hand accounts as evidence (or insurance), so he simply hid them away. Each individual letter held very few important details, so most of his time with pen in hand was spent writing his own letters, trying to be as sly as he could, asking for specific information without actually asking, just… nudging the conversation in the direction he wanted it to go, and covering up any potential suspicions with flowery language and lies, oh so many lies, about how he also wanted to do the fuck on her.
He doubted Lord Dick Glass was letting his wife read erotica, so Erwin didn't worry about claims of plagiarism as he copied descriptions of the most overly written yet boring sex known to man. There were so many terrible passages to choose from that he could have included several in each letter and not run out for over a year. It was easy to see why Thomasin said she found them amusing, even if he suspected that wasn't the only reason so many of these passages were marked. Even though they couldn't see each other, his days filled with the most pathetic intrigue imaginable and her taking on extra duties at work that changed her schedule, she still managed to take pleasure in his suffering.
Dear stud,
I wanna sex you up.
Do I sound like Lady Glass, or was that too eloquent? So, how's the book serving you...?
You're so funny. Have I ever told you how funny you are? It's serving very well, thanks, but I'm so disappointed in you. Get better taste in literature…
Even though her letters were often nothing but long jests at his expense, the one she'd mockingly signed Your devoted love slave still sparked a pleasurable warmth between his legs, which slowly grew hotter and more insistent as he scanned yellowed pages for passages to steal, descriptions of hot, wet mouths and pert breasts and throbbing cocks growing more and more titillating despite remaining as poorly written as ever. Eventually, he had to stop his self-appointed task to free his own throbbing member from its confines, hurriedly stroking himself to completion, mentally replacing the pale, porcelain skin and long, straight blonde hair in those descriptions with golden browns and rich midnight curls…
He was ashamed to say such an occurrence had happened more than once, though he made a conscious effort to ensure his door was always locked before undoing his trousers after Hange burst into his office one very inopportune day, waving about documents from the commander before they noticed where his hand was…
"ERUGH! What the fuck, Erwin?! Put on pants!"
"I'm wearing pants! Why don't you ever knock!?"
"You are not the victim here…!"
For a while following that… incident, he'd worried Hange would get it in their head to try and blackmail him with his… habit, but they thankfully kept their mouth shut. Maybe they were too embarrassed to bring it up… but then again, they had been caught eating food out of the garbage more than once- they probably weren't too bothered by things like "shame". Maybe they took pity on him, or acknowledged that most people pleasured themselves and it was perfectly normal… or, most likely, Hange just didn't have anything they needed to stoop down to extortion levels to achieve yet. Regardless, that was a problem he would deal with when it came up- there were more pressing matters on his mind, now…
~o0o~
Even though he was a section commander with his own paperwork to deal with, more so than most of the Survey Corps, Commander Shadis still usually had Erwin send off official documents for him. It was hard to believe there had ever been a time when he'd been upset about being a glorified go-fer. Maybe Keith realized the younger man was going to read whatever letters were placed in his hand regardless, but he quickly stopped sealing envelopes, ordering his subordinate to do so for him, and soon thereafter, began requesting Erwin help him write them.
It was mostly mindless busywork that he could often zone out during, writing whatever he was told on whichever line required it, but occasionally, something strange would stand out to him. He didn't think it prudent to bring anything up with the commander, not in the least because he didn't want to be made out as an idiot if he was wrong about anything, but he filed all those little oddities away in the back of his mind, until he could untangle them and check his suspicions.
There were places in the Survey Corps headquarters where Scouts rarely ventured. Like the library, for instance. But also less hospitable places, like the partitioned cellar most people probably didn't even know existed. Erwin wouldn't have known it existed either, but heactually visited the library. He'd happened upon some ancient architectural plan tucked away in one of the shelves, and found the passage leading to the stairs exactly behind the kitchen. When it was constructed, they must have assumed excess food would be stored down there, but there wasn't excess anything to be found in the Survey Corps of today. No, the only thing that dark, mildewed space held as of now were two Scouts, one with his ODM blade pointed at the others' back.
"Erwin, I know everyone says you're a serial killer, but they're joking! You aren't supposed to prove them fucking right!" Charles Malory was several years older than him, but was also several inches shorter and weighed about twenty pounds less. With the halls clear, almost everyone having left for the morning to enjoy their day off, it had been easy to push the payroll clerk all the way downstairs, not in the least because every time he dared hesitate, the tip of the ultra-hard steel blade cut a new nick into the back of his shirt.
"If I killed you, I wouldn't be a 'serial killer'- I'd just be a murderer. I'm not looking to go against the Charters of Humanity in such an unforgivable way. I just need you to answer some simple questions for me, Captain Malory." To prove his sincerity, Erwin sheathed his blade, detaching the metal holster from his belts. He'd already removed the blades and disconnected the gas, wanting to be weighed down as little as possible while still having access to a blade that could cut through bones like they were butter. The older man didn't seem comforted by this gesture of goodwill, his thin lips pulling down into a deep frown.
"Questions? What kind of questions require you to kidnap another soldier?!"
"I simply wanted a bit of privacy. These aren't questions I feel our fellow Scouts should know the answer to." Eyes an indistinguishable shade of dark narrowed in the gloom.
"Like what…?"
"Like what you're doing in the Survey Corps. You transferred from the Military Police three years ago, but you come from a family of merchants from Wall Sina, yes?"
"Yes," the older man spat defensively. "That's right. Not all wealthy people are myopic assholes. Some of us actually want to better the world for the sake of humanity."
"An admirable goal, captain, and well spoken. Is that the lingering grain of truth still residing in your heart, or did your brother teach you that line?"
"What do you-?"
"Your brother is Dennis Malory, correct?" The dark eyes widened slightly, discomforted by the icy gaze bearing down on him.
"What does he have to do anything…?"
"He is a majority shareholder in the Lang Company, is he not?" Erwin stepped closer, his considerable height making him an intimidating figure. "Don't you all make enough money from your backroom dealings with the Military Police…?" Charles froze, eyes wide, a tic going off in his cheek, before lunging at the younger man, aiming a left hook right at his face. He knocked the incoming fist away, driving his knee into the other man's side just as Vincent Bier had done to him so many years ago. Before the captain could collapse, Erwin wrapped an arm around his neck. "Why are you here?"
"You're… choking me…!"
"That's kind of the point. Who are you working for?" The other man stayed silent except for the gagging and sputtering as he tried to breathe. Erwin put more pressure on his throat, feeling the windpipe give slightly under his forearm. "I can stay like this all day; you can't. Tell me who you're working for!"
"N-Nicholas… Lobov…!" The section commander released his grip at once, though he did not let the other man go even as he stumbled and coughed, keeping a tight grip on his collar. His voice was as icy as his eyes.
"Why?"
"To… to keep tabs on Shadis… To make sure he doesn't suspect anything… or run his mouth to Zachary if he does…"
"You do realize these budget cuts put peoples' lives at stake, don't you? The people you've trained with, eaten with, fought beside-"
"That's not my problem!" Charles turned as best he could to face Erwin, paying no mind to his tearing shirt. The fury burning within his eyes was understandable- the fear, not so much. "This stupid branch of the military shouldn't even exist! You should be grateful- if the Dissolution Faction succeeds, none of you idiots will have to die anymore!" The younger man had been able to keep his emotions in check all this time, but even he had his limits, unable to stop the flare up of rage. Whipping the other man around sharply, he grabbed the back of his head, nails digging into his scalp, and smashed Malory's face into the closest wall, satisfaction quelling some of that anger as he heard a snap.
"Don't pretend you're some selfless guardian saint of Scouts; the only thing you care about is wealth." Pulling him back, he let the older man fall to the floor, paying no mind to his pitiful moaning or the blood streaming from his quickly swelling nose. "Do you receive correspondence from Lord Lobov?" Despite the rough treatment, Captain Malory remained silent. It filled Erwin with a grim sense of pride- even the lowest, most craven Scout was still a stronger soul than any other soldier. But his pride wasn't going to save the other man now. "I suggest you start talking before I acquaint your face with my boot."
"Why are you doing this, Smith?" The other man asked, his voice nasally and tight with pain. "Did Shadis put you up to this?"
"You're not in a position to ask questions. Do you, or do you not, receive correspondence from Lord Lobov?" He let the silence stretch on for ten seconds before drawing his leg back, twisting his entire body to show just how much force was going to be delivered into the other man's ribs or jaw- he himself wasn't entirely sure where he was aiming just yet.
"Yes! Yes! Lobov writes me!" Lowering his leg, Erwin let his posture relax somewhat.
"For how long?"
"Two years!" He couldn't let his surprise be noticeable.
"Do you still have those letters?"
"Some of them…" A thick brow quirked.
"Really, now? Hmm…" Stooping into a squat, Erwin rested his arms on his knees. "Here's what you're going to do, Captain Malory. You're going to return to wherever you're keeping these letters and give them to me. Then you're going to forget the last thirty minutes ever happened. From this moment onward, you will inform me of everything Lord Lobov has planned. Every letter you send will go through me first, and every letter you receive will end up in my possession. Am I clear?"
"You're fucking delusional is what you are, Smith! You think I'm actually going to listen to you?!" Moving with a speed that would make Mike proud, the blonde man pounced, straddling Malory's chest as large hands closed around his throat. He pressed down ever so slightly on the already bruised windpipe with his thumbs.
"Wrong answer. I can find those letters myself. I already have information on Lobov- I don't need you, I'm just giving you a way to keep your neck out of the noose. Traitors are not looked kindly upon in the military, Charles…" He felt the older man's throat bob against his hands as he swallowed. A fleck of spittle shone in the corner of his mouth.
"I- I can't… Lobov will kill me…"
"So will I. Now, who do you think is more of a threat to your immediate survival?"
"…fine…" came the croaked response, and Erwin removed his hands, climbing to his feet.
"I'm going to accompany you to retrieve those letters, after which you'll report to me of your own accord." Malory scoffed, sitting up and panting as he wiped the blood staining his upper lip.
"You trust me?"
"No. I just trust that you aren't stupid enough to try and cross someone who's been killing Titans for six years and knows where you sleep." A dry chuffing filled the dark room.
"You're a real piece of shit, you know that, Smith? Your talents are wasted in the Corps- you'd have made quite a name for yourself in the Brigade."
"There are more than enough pieces of shit in the Military Police Brigade; they don't need me adding to their numbers."
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It baffled the mind that a man with as many secrets as Nicholas Lobov wouldn't warn anyone he was writing letters to to burn them immediately after reading. Erwin had thought that surely there would be repeated warnings in each letter and that Charles was maybe too lazy to bother discarding them, but no. It was as Lady Caitlin had inadvertently deduced- greedy, powerful men like Lobov felt no need to guard their secrets because they didn't acknowledge that people below them existed. Well, that worked out just fine for Erwin, who now had a veritable mountain of damning evidence in his possession. The only problem was, it would be easy for someone, say a thief or, more likely, a First Interior Officer, to steal into his quarters and get them back.
The lock he'd paid to install on the drawer he kept Lady Caitlin's letters wasn't the strongest thing in the world, and even if it was, wood broke far easier than iron. Which was why he found himself on Thomasin's doorstep one thankfully clear, but still bitterly cold, February morning. It wasn't his day off, but it was hers, and thus he put in a written request to the Commander to change his schedule. Shadis had given him a strange look as he handed in the proper form…
"You know you're the only person who's ever actually filled this out?"
"It's best that I go through the proper channels. I wouldn't want people to think I'm getting preferential treatment."
"Hmph. Is this a leisure trip, Smith?"
"I'd be lying to say it won't be leisurely, but it's something I feel I need to do for the good of the Survey Corps…"
The commander had granted his request, even if he'd done so with a long-suffering sigh and shake of the head. Transferring the large envelope under his left arm, Erwin knocked as he always did, frowning as a muttered curse reached him through the door.
"Who is it?" Thomasin's voice was unusually sharp.
"It's Erwin."
"The fuck…?" Thumps, hisses and even more curses joined the 'step-thunk' that always preceded her unlocking and opening the door. She left the chain on this time. "This isn't your day off."
"Hello to you too, Lindemann. It is now. May I come in?" He expected her to open the door as she always did, so it genuinely surprised him when it remained closed save for the crack through which he could see her eye and a sliver of her face. The heat from her apartment was enough that it cut through the chill even where he stood. The young woman must have been laying in bed under several blankets in addition to the heat from her stove, given how prettily rosy her cheeks were. He was jealous.
"What do you want?"
"I… want to come in? Please, mommy- it's very cold out here." Her lips twisted for a second before she forced back the smile he'd nearly drawn from her.
"Don't play cute with me, Smith." He sighed, realizing he wasn't going to win this. He held up the envelope.
"I came to ask you to hide this in your place."
"Why? Is it illegal?"
"No," he answered honestly. The dark eye he could see narrowed.
"Then why are you trying to hide it off-base?"
"It contains sensitive documents."
"Oh, for the love of- Am I gonna have assassins coming after these?"
"Of course not. That's the point. Who would suspect I'd hide important documents in a hovel like this? No offense."
"Offense taken." She closed the door enough to take the chain off, snatching the envelope from his hand. With the door open wider, his suspicions that he'd woken her were confirmed as he took in her nightgown showing through a barely tied robe. She wasn't wearing her false leg and leaned heavily on her crutch as a result, but he was more interested in the gently scooping neckline which beautifully showed off her collarbones and the swell of her cleavage. "Is that all?" Her clipped tone snapped him back to his senses.
"Um, no, I… I wanted to…" He trailed off, taking a step back. "Have I done something to upset you, Thomasin?" With a bit of distance between them, he was able to see just how tight her jaw was, and how pallid her complexion looked- relatively speaking. She ground her teeth for a moment, frustration and pain flashing across her face, before sighing.
"No… not you specifically. It's my…" She lowered her voice slightly. "…bleed. Everything is terrible right now, and I kind of just wish everyone, including you and me, would drop dead…"
Despite her harsh words, she just sounded tired. Erwin kept his face schooled in a neutral, though hopefully sympathetic expression, but inside, he was wincing. He knew enough from Lisa, and later Cecile and Hange's monthly cycles to know that the woman before him was probably in a great deal more discomfort than she was letting on, and also that the last thing she wanted to deal with now was a visitor, but he couldn't bring himself to just turn around and leave.
"I'm… sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Could you bludgeon me until I pass out?"
"I could, but I'm not going to."
"Then no, you can't help. Come back around your normal day off- that's usually late enough in the month that this isn't happening."
"Alright," Erwin acquiesced in a low voice. If she told him he couldn't help, then he couldn't help, no matter how much he wished he could. "Oh, I do have one more thing for you. Two more things, actually." Rolling her eyes, Thomasin moved the envelope to the hand holding her crutch, gripping it with two fingers. As she held out her hand, the blonde man placed a neatly folded cream-colored handkerchief, and a sizable purse of coins, in her palm. "I know you told me not to wash it, but I'm afraid I spilled porridge on it and had to." Yes… porridge… The young woman shrugged haplessly.
"Okay? And the money is for…?"
"It had bergamot oil rubbed into it, yes? That should be enough to cover it." Leaning against the wall, she tucked the envelope under her arm, using her now free hand to open the purse and look inside. Erwin smiled- it was worth finally digging into his savings just to see the look of shock and horror on her face. She quickly pulled the drawstring shut once more.
"That's way too much money!" She hissed "Everything on top is Sinas!"
"I'm aware of what's in there."
"I can't take this!" She tried to push it back at him, but he closed his hand over her own, meeting her eyes with a stern look.
"You can, and you will. Citrus is rarer than salt. Replace the oil I wasted, and do with the rest as you will. Save it, spend it- throw it in the town fountain for wishes. It doesn't matter to me."
"Erwin…" Her discomfort was palpable. He leaned down to whisper in her ear.
"I mean, you could always put it towards a down payment for a house in Trost…?"
"Okay, it's time for you to leave." He laughed as she pushed him away, her hand warm against his frozen cheek. She smiled as well, though hers was tight and wan. "I'm sorry you wasted your day off coming here."
"Don't be. I actually only came out here to drop off that envelope; why do you think I'm here so early?"
"Oh yeah? Where are you going now? Is there another woman I need to be worried about?" 'No… never…' His own grin dimmed.
"I have a date in Stohess with the Military Police." Her face fell.
"Oh god, you aren't getting court martialed, are you?"
"Not yet. I'll tell you more if I can manage to come here on my actual day off, and if not, well… I'll keep in touch."
"Alright. Bye, Erwin. Be safe." It was a sorry thing that she had to remind him to be safe within the walls, even more so since the threats lurking inside this cage were the ones he wasn't entirely certain he could easily combat.
~o0o~
The Military Police headquarters in Stohess was easily reached by carriage, but unfortunately, Erwin had to go up three more streets on foot to find his target. His toes were numb by the time he spotted a somewhat familiar head of dark, messy hair.
"Nile!" The other man paused, turning with a look of bemusement twisting his pinched features.
"Erwin, what are you doing here? Aren't you lot vacationing in Trost?"
"We're stationed in Trost, yes. I came to see you." The confusion turned to annoyance.
"What'dya want? Can't you see I'm busy?" The blonde man peered over his friend's shoulder.
"Not exactly. Busy doing what?"
"Fuck you, that's what."
"Oh, come on, Nile- it was a joke. How does a life of safety and security make you this ill-tempered? Marie would be heartbroken to see you so sour faced."
"I wouldn't know," the other man spat. "I haven't been home in over a month." Cerulean eyes blinked, taken aback by this revelation.
"A month? You're a lieutenant; aren't you allowed to live off-base?"
"Didn't I tell you everybody keeps dumping their work on me!?" Nile's voice echoed through the mostly empty street. "I'm not even supposed to be here- this is fucking Jackson's route, but that piece of shit didn't come in to work today, so guess who has to pick up the slack? This fucking idiot!"
Erwin stared as the other man gasped, so worked up he was having trouble breathing. Rubbing his back above where his rifle was slung, guilt began gnawing at his heart. Even though he still believed the MPs as a whole were incompetent, corrupt and lazy, he should have known better than to paint his old friend with that same brush. After all, who knew better than he how hard the other man was capable of working?
"I'm sorry, Nile…" Sniffling, the dark-haired man covered his face with his hands.
"I hate this fucking job so much… I'm so tired of this shit… I just want to go home and see my daughter…"
"Then go. Surely your family, your well being, are more important than a job?"
"This job is for my family, you fucking idiot…" Wiping his eyes, Nile scowled at the other man. "I will never let Anne, or Marie, want for anything. I will never let them know what it's like to be cold or hungry. Everything, all this bullshit, is worth it for them. …you probably think I'm stupid."
"No… I wish I were like you, Nile…" he whispered, turning his gaze away as he took a moment to clear his mind. "How long have you been out in this cold?"
"About… three hours, give or take? Why?"
"Seems like it's about time for a break. Let me buy you a cup of tea." Hazel eyes narrowed.
"Why?"
"…I don't need a reason to do something nice for the people I care about."
~o0o~
Despite his hesitations, the cold proved too much to bear, and Nile accompanied Erwin to one of the many tea shops that lined the commercial district of Stohess. Tucking his hands under his arms to warm them, he watched the other man add cream and sugar to his tea, trying to hide the grain of resentment working its way into his heart. Such a precious commodity, just left out in the open… Unfortunately, he failed, as Nile set his cup back on the saucer hard enough for the fine porcelain to rattle.
"What?"
"I didn't say anything."
"I know that look. Every asshole officer gives me that look. 'Oh, you're so uncouth, Dok', 'Why don't you just drink out of a mud puddle, Dok?' I like cream and sugar, okay? Excuse the hell out of me for wanting to enjoy the finer things in life!" Erwin frowned at the other man.
"I literally was not even thinking about you, Nile. I was thinking about how expensive sugar is, and how hard it is to buy in the southern districts."
"O-oh…" Humiliation visibly burned his pale cheeks. "Sorry. Being around all these rich people all the time makes me kind of defensive."
"I couldn't live like that."
"Tch. Neither could I. You aren't drinking?"
"I don't care for the taste of tea, with or without sugar…" They both fell silent for a moment, the space between them filled with soft clinking of spoons on cups and the quiet chatter of the few other patrons seated at the surrounding tables. Sighing, Nile leaned back in his seat.
"So really, what do you want, Erwin?"
"Can a man not just feel like paying an old friend a visit?"
"Not when that man is you. Spill before I get pissed off again and leave." Erwin looked away.
"I wanted to ask you some questions, about the MP Brigade specifically, but, well… it seems like you're not in the mood to talk about that, so I'll come back another time." Nile frowned, more from confusion than annoyance or anger.
"What kind of questions? Why would you care about anything that's going on in the Brigade?"
"Because some things have been going on in the Corps, and I can't help but wonder if they're connected."
"Like what?" Erwin lowered his voice, leaning across the table.
"Have you noticed anything off with any of your supplies?"
"Off? Such as?"
"Missing shipments, incomplete orders…?"
"No, I don't think-" Slowly, Nile's eyes widened, his jaw falling somewhat slack. "Our bullets… Every shipment is supposed to contain a thousand rounds, but for the past two years, we've been getting less and less each time. First, it was only fifty or so missing. Then a hundred, then two. Now, the crates are barely half full!"
"Do you know who supplies the Brigade with ammunition?"
"I'm not entirely sure? I think it's the Lang Company?" Erwin sat up straight once more.
"I'll check for myself. Thank you, Nile."
"Is the same thing happening to the Survey Corps?"
"Not exactly, no…"
"Erwin…" Worry dug deep furrows above Nile's thin brows. "Is this something bad? Do I need to be worried?"
"You? No. I give you my word that what's going on will in no way negatively affect you, or your family."
"But it might negatively affect you."
"That remains to be seen." Silence lapsed once more, this time heavy and uncomfortable. As he oft seemed to, Nile spoke first.
"Y'know, I thought I was going insane? I used to bring up the missing bullets to my superiors, and they'd always say I'd just miscounted, or I was imagining things- one time, Captain Murdoch actually accused me of stealing them. That was the last time I mentioned anything to anyone else…"
"I feel sorry for you, Nile. The Military Police is no place for good men like you."
You'd have made quite a name for yourself in the Military Police…
"Tch. 'Good men'. There's nothing good about me, or anybody else who wears this insignia. The only thing I protect is the property of the most elite. I punish people for being poor. The one place within Wall Sina where I could actually do some good is the one place I don't go any more."
"The Underground City?"
"Yeah. Honestly, when you brought up the bullets and I realized the Lang Company's behind this, I wasn't upset. I was relieved. 'Oh, it's not the Pigeon-Rats. Thank god, now I don't have to go down there'-" Erwin held up a hand to stop the other man, his thick brows furrowing.
"Wait wait wait. Pigeon-Rats? Please tell me that's the name of some kind of underground gang, and that there aren't monstrous rats that sprouted wings living beneath us." Nile grinned, his face once more looking as youthful as it should.
"Yeah, it's a gang. That's what we named them because, honestly, who gives a fuck what they call themselves?"
"That's quite a… descriptive name. Any particular reason for it?"
"They live in the sewers, fly around and steal shit- I think it's pretty self-explanatory-"
"What do you mean, they 'fly around'?"
"They use ODM gear to-"
"WHAT?!" Several harsh shushes and dirty looks were directed at the pair. Erwin winced, lowering his voice and leaning across the table once more. "How the hell are gangs in the Underground getting their hands on ODM gear?"
"Probably from us. Our ammo's already being stolen out from under our noses; who knows how much shit's being sold on the black market that I haven't noticed?"
"Why haven't you apprehended them?" the blonde man hissed.
"Because we can't," Nile whispered back just as harshly. "Every time we send officers down there, they come back empty handed claiming they were out-maneuvered."
"The top soldiers in our military getting out-maneuvered by criminals? God, every time I think you idiots can't get more pathetic, you go out of your way to prove me wrong…"
"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about, Erwin. I've seen these guys; they're the real deal. Especially their leader. He'd maneuver circles around you."
"I'll be the judge of that. I want to see them myself." Nile's eyes narrowed, and he huffed through his nose.
"Fine. I'll take you down there myself. But not today- I've got enough shit to do."
"No," Erwin agreed. "Not today. But soon."
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A/N- Intrigue plots, I cannot write. Which sucks because all that backstory shit that goes on in "No Regrets" is so interesting to me? So yeah, Erwin writes his fan fiction with one hand. Big mood. I love Nile and Erwin's relationship- there's some very deep-seated antagonism between them (at least when I write them), but deep down, they love one another. I bought "AoT 2" as an early birthday present, and it is easily my second favorite thing to come from AoT- so much world building and characterization that was nowhere to be found in the main series. And I can ignore the children!