Heavily canon divergent - Out of order timeline, possible supernatural, spiritual elements further down the road. Nothing explicitly stated, just implied. Slowest of burns. Enemies to lovers. Eventual smut. Self harm - in the name of science! Drugs and Drug use. Scientific inaccuracy. History inaccuracy. Simping for Marco.
Against my better judgement, I'm writing a character who specializes in an area of science that I am absolutely terrible at. That being said, if anyone reading this would like to help me out with some of the chemistry descriptions and terminology, it would be forever appreciated! I'm not going to swamp the story in scientific jargon and procedures, but I would like to use it often enough to justify my character being a chemist and I like to try to be as accurate as possible. Let me know!
It was a miserable, rainy morning the day they came to her shop.
It had been early, too early. The overcast sky kept the sunrise at bay, making it still dark out, and the looming shadow of Wall Rose only added to the dismal gloom.
A lone person walked the cobblestone streets of Trost, cladded in a cheap blue overcoat with an umbrella held above her head for protection against the weather. The young woman passed by empty merchant stands and shops, the shutters of the apartments above closed and bolted, still a few good hours from being ready to open. The only sound other than the rain was the heels of her boots tapping against the wet stone. Her destination was a chemistry shop at the end of the street, right on the corner next to a bakery that had yet to dispel the petrichor from the air with the baking of fresh bread - it was that early.
She hated Wednesdays. It was pouring out and enemas were half-priced, it was going to be a madhouse.
When she looked down the street to see two figures already loitering outside the front of her shop, she rolled her eyes. They were difficult to make out at first because of the rainfall, but as she drew closer, a shiver that had nothing to do with the early morning cold racked her slight frame enough for her to falter in her steps. The two figures were wearing military uniforms.
White pants and fatigue tan jackets, lamp post lights catching the gleam off the buckles of the ODM straps that decorated their bodies. They were both facing her direction with their heads turned towards each other in quiet conversation so they hadn't yet noticed her. Their stances blocked her view of the insignias emblazed on their backs.
Her first instinct was to run. What were the chances that those MP's had coincidentally chosen her quaint little shop to shoot the breeze in front of? They were there for a reason, and it didn't bode well for her.
Before she could make the decision on whether to advance or run in the other direction, the taller of the two finally noticed her standing stark still in the middle of the street. His companion noticed as well and soon they were both looking at her, anticipating an interaction. It would be too late to pretend that her destination wasn't the shop, even if they didn't know she was the owner. Her hours were posted on the door not even a foot away, and they dictated that only the soul who owned the shop would be traveling through this kind of weather at this hour in the morning.
Without any other choice but to move forward and act as inconspicuous as possible, the woman took a tentative step and continued her easy gait.
The taller of the two; a man, fair blonde hair neatly cut and swept out of blue eyes, towering height and broad shoulders, was the polar opposite of the woman with the messy brown hair pulled back into a haphazard ponytail and glasses perched on the bridge of her distinguished nose. She seemed as collected as her companion, but she had a sort of manic energy about her that could be felt from yards away. It showed in her unwavering, too-focused brown gaze. The sides of her mouth twitched with barely restrained glee. It broke out into a friendly smile when the approaching woman finally came within greeting distance.
The man stepped forward and pale blue eyes trailed down his jacket to the silver and blue patch on the breast.
That wasn't the MP insignia.
"Are you Marceline Russell?" he asked in a strong, confident tone.
Was this it, she wondered. Was this the last morning she would ever witness as a free woman? Of course it would be raining.
She gave a curt nod as she stepped under the purple awning of her shop and closed her umbrella. Her eyes danced over the pair again, lamenting her lack of syringes before answering. "I am."
"I am Commander Erwin Smith of the Scout Regiment and this is the Department Head of Titan Research, Major Hange Zoe. I'm sorry to have approached you without first establishing a correspondence through letters, that usually isn't how I prefer to conduct business, but there is an important matter we would like to discuss with you. If you could make the time for us, it would be appreciated."
The Scouts? Well, as long as they weren't the Military Police, but what on earth did such a high ranking officer from the Survey Corps want with her?
She shook the raindrops from her umbrella, fixing them with a tired look. It was still too early in the morning. "I take it you're not enema enthusiasts, then?"
The woman frowned. "Enemas?"
"Nevermind, come in."
Marceline fished her keys out of her coat pocket and unlocked the door to her shop, motioning absently for the pair to follow. The lamp post erected outside her shop illuminated the plaque next to her door.
Marceline Russell, Licensed Chemist-Toxicologist
The smell of chemicals and herbs greeted her as she stepped into the dark shop. The familiar atmosphere helped ease the last of the tension in her shoulders from her MP scare, but she remained hyperaware of the still-very-much-military presence coming up on her heels.
In as casual of a move that she could manage, she swiped the pile of bills that she had known would be waiting for her from the front rug underneath the mail slot and tossed them, and her umbrella, into the holder next to the door. As the Commander and Major Zoe shook the rain from their jackets, she set to work with the lights. Her guests descended the small set of stairs of her shop's entrance landing and began a lap through the aisles. Major Zoe smiled big as she looked around the shop, taking in the young chemist's inventory like a child in a candy shop. The Commander didn't share the same level of enthusiasm, but his interest was no less evident as he browsed the shelves, hands clasped behind his back with an analytical eye, occasionally reaching out to examine the contents of a bottle closer.
Once the shop was fully lit, Marceline walked over to the check-out counter and waited for them to finish exploring. Their non-threatening demeanors and genuine curiosity helped put her more at ease. They didn't appear to be looking for anything specific in her inventory, so she doubted that Commander Smith's "important matter" had anything to do with her products. She considered that perhaps he was looking to hire her as a private supplier for the Survey Corps' research department. Was that really a job that required both the leader and the department head to seek her out personally, though? Probably not. A simple letter would've worked just as well.
"What all do you sell here, Ms. Russell?" the Commander asked, placing a bottle back on the shelf and coming around to where she was. He still held his arms behind his back and his posture was ramrod straight, towering over her like a centuries-old tree. He had to crane his head down to where his chin almost touched his chest just to look her in the eyes.
"In my shop I sell, well, chemicals, obviously, and chemistry equipment, but I also sell beauty and health products, cleaning products, most of which are concoctions of my own making. Herbal remedies, salves, elixirs, perfumes occasionally - little bit of everything. Were you looking to buy some equipment?"
"What about your research?" he asked, side-stepping her question. His eyes moved somewhere over her head, no doubt scanning the locked case of chemicals hanging behind the counter. It contained some of her more expensive and dangerous products, as well as vials of snake venom and anti-venom, and various plant extracts. The old Top Shelf as it were. "What kind of projects are you currently working on?"
"Nothing particularly noteworthy," she replied honestly, shrugging her shoulders. "Currently, I've been studying species of snakes and synthesizing antivenoms, or making preexisting antivenoms more effective. My experimental days with chemistry have been put on the backburner, unfortunately, do to a lack of funds. I'll start up again once I'm in a more convenient position to do so. But you have my undivided attention now. Would you like to take this conversation into the back room so you can tell me what exactly it is you're looking for, Commander Smith? I can make us up some tea."
He looked down at her again and smiled, nodding.
~O~
The sound of liquid pouring filled the backroom as Marceline poured three cups of some sort of Darjeeling tea that she had managed to scrounge up from a cabinet in her small kitchenette. She did her best to pour without spilling, but the Commander's overwhelming presence made it difficult to keep her hands steady. Her nerves didn't show on her face, though, she was confident in that, at least.
"I apologize that I don't have anything better. I'm not much of a tea-drinker," she said, lowering the teapot and sliding the saucer across the table to the Commander.
"That's quite alright," he assured her, taking the offered cup. If his reaction to his first sip was any indication of her tea-making skills, Marceline would've thought she was a regular tea sommelier. Too bad she knew she was complete shit at it, so the only indication she got was that Erwin Smith had an amazing poker face.
The chair next to him was empty, for the Major was glued to where Marceline kept her snakes. From floor to ceiling, about twenty glass terrariums lined the back wall, each housing a different species of snake. The Major, who had promptly instructed Marceline to call her Hange, giggled gleefully as she fluttered from tank to tank, peering in at the sleeping serpents inside. Her face was so close to the glass that she fogged it up with her breath while her hands were spread smack-dab on it. Marceline grimaced at the fingerprints the woman left behind.
One of her snakes had already slithered out of its hidey-hole and was regarding the offending face peering in at it with a defensive stance. Hange leaned in closer with another curious giggle, but jumped back with a shout when the snake struck suddenly, fangs bared, hissing loudly, hitting the glass with an audible 'thunk'.
"Whoa! This one's firey!" she laughed, ginning madly. "Is he for sale?"
"Uh, no, sorry, she isn't. I wouldn't recommend it even if she was. That is a Jinae King Cobra, they are dangerous and very temperamental."
"Oh." She turned back to the snake with a blink and gave her a respectful bow. "I'm sorry, your majesty."
The vexed cobra didn't accept the apology, letting out a low, furious hiss and flaring her striped hood before slithering back under the pile of rocks in her terrarium. Undeterred, Hange moved on to the next tank.
"Do you own all of them?" the Commander asked.
"No, unfortunately. Most of them are just loans. Once I finish researching their venom, I send them back either to their owners or to be released back into the wild. This isn't a good long term habitat for them. Snakes love the sun."
He smiled and let out an appreciative hum. "And are all these snakes poisonous?"
"Venomous, yes, some more than others. I also have a collection of insects back at my apartment and I'm looking into building a greenhouse on the roof so I can cultivate a few species of poisonous plants and flowers, fungi, but it'll take some time. I just opened this shop, you see."
"Insects and plants, are you qualified in those areas as well?"
"If they can make a person or animal drop dead, then most definitely, but if you mean botany and entomology as a whole, moreso in botany than entomology, but I'm not technically a specialist in either. I'm more than knowledgeable. I spent a majority of my formative years studying them as an avid hobby. I just never got around to pursuing them under an institution. Maybe some day when I have the time and money."
"Your previous residence is listed as being in Mitras, though, correct?"
"Yes." she replied without pause but didn't elaborate.
The Commander seemed like a sharp one, and probably didn't need her to. If he hadn't seen through her attempt to misdirect their attention away from her past-due bills when they had entered, then he would've been able to guess just from the fact that she was in Trost at all. Considering her credentials and educational background, the only reason someone like her would be running a rinky-dink shop like this in Trost, instead of still being in the golden city of Mitras, would be financial issues, which would be partly correct.
"You have quite an impressive resume for someone so young," he remarked.
"Twenty-five isn't too young, I feel. I knew a few baby-faced child geniuses during my time at Stohess University, barely broaching puberty and already working on dissertations, and the military certainly doesn't seem to have much of a standard when it comes to allowing teenagers to enlist and fight titans. What's the minimum age requirement again? Sixteen?"
"Twelve, actually," Hange supplied helpfully as she finally took her seat next to the Commander. Her reaction to her first sip of tea was a lot more telling.
Twelve! Was it really that young?
He frowned. "My apologies, I didn't mean to imply-"
"No, no, my apologies," she cut him off, shaking her head. "You didn't strike a cord, Commander. I didn't mean for that to sound like a dig, I was just making a point."
"Well, I believe you're being humble, Ms. Russell. Despite being new to the scene, you came highly recommended by your colleagues."
Well, this was getting a little too personal. Had he done some sort of background check on her?
Marceline's colleagues consisted of chemists and a couple of doctors, whatever medical and scientific personnel that Trost had to offer. None of them really knew Marceline on any personal level. She didn't like being discussed when she wasn't around, they knew her enough to know that. Just asking around wouldn't have caused the Commander of the Survey Corps to have her name on his tongue. If it wasn't already apparent that the pair were here for her specifically, then this would be the tell.
"I also wanted to ask about your medical expertise. Given the nature of your fields, I assume they require having some medical knowledge, yes?"
Her fingers tightened around the handle of her cup. "Depends. Are we talking how the human body reacts when its introduced to toxins, or can I suture a gaping wound?"
"Both."
"But the latter more than the former, since you've clearly done your homework on me," she said without a question in her tone. She propped her elbows up on the table top and raised her teacup to her face, taking a small sip.
He smirked. "Yes."
"Well, to put it simply, I can do in a pinch."
The Commander mulled this over and it was obvious he had more to ask, but Marceline placed her cup back on to her saucer and pushed it aside, her eyes dancing between the two soldiers.
"I'm getting tired of discussing myself, so why don't we just cut to the chase? What do you want?"
She looked at the Commander, but it was Hange who answered. She reached into her jacket and pulled out a piece of paper. She unfolded it with deft fingers and placed it on the table, making sure the words were right side up from Marceline's point of view.
"This look familiar to you?" she asked.
It did, actually. One glance and she recognized it as the scientific proposal that she had drawn up and submitted to the Committee of Scientific Achievement over six months ago. It was a proposal for a paralysis agent crafted from snake venom for titans. A far-fetched idea, yes, but the government offered money for ideas from the scientific and engineering communities. It was a little known fact considering the royal family's almost contemptuous attitude towards certain progressive, knowledge-based organizations.
It went without being said that there was an alarming amount of undermining going on in the scientific community, even in the nation's capitol, where higher education and intellectualism was just as paramount to one's reputation as being from a wealthy upbringing. There was an almost invisible gag order on certain subjects that every scientist, inventor, professor, and philosopher was aware of and abided by without outward protest. The pursuit of knowledge was a path lined with pitfalls nearly unnavigable when it came to anything that remotely resembled progress on a grander scale than just making day-to-day living all the more easier for those fortunate to reside behind Wall Sina.
The subject of the titans was naturally the most taboo.
However, just because there was a silent agreement that innovations involving the titans weren't to be discussed in polite company, didn't mean there weren't people out there working to develop such things. The royal government did allow them to submit proposals and theories on the matter. It wasn't against the law. It was just highly discouraged, and not just in explicit ways. Scientists and inventors were given free reign to submit their ideas even to the military. It was an underused venue for study and research, but still a viable one.
The most promising ones were bought rather quickly. Some might say too quickly, because it was rare that any of them were put into fruition in any capacity, making it clear to everyone that the royal family had their eye on that particular part of the community; the part sympathetic towards those who actively fought against the titans. Submitting anything would be akin to tossing valuable time and resources into a bottomless pit, so no self-respecting scientist would bother unless they were that hard-up for cash.
It was sad, really, because contrary to popular belief, there was a plethora of intelligent minds in the innermost walls willing to be altruistic in the name of advancement against the titans. And if it wasn't altruism, then it was a desire for notoriety by branching out into civilian-military work that was an area that was otherwise unexplored. Things would be different if said potential advancements weren't constantly being red-taped by the royal government. A lot of things would be different if that were the case.
In that sense, it was something that the scientific community had in common with the Survey Corps.
Marceline herself had to fight tooth and nail to get her degrees and build her career, and not just because she was a woman - scientific progression was just that suppressed that even her male peers had difficulties getting their careers started after graduating.
"It's my job to go through all the proposals that Erwin manages to squirrel away for me before they get buried in the MP headquarters, never to see the light of day, and as luck would have it, I came across this glorious piece of potential genius, written by one, promising Marceline Russell," Hange beamed.
The both of them were staring critically at her now. This was the very last thing she had expected and she was at a loss of what to say next, which wasn't an easy state to put her in.
"Do you actually believe it's possible for there to be a paralysis agent strong enough to take down a titan?" the Commander asked.
"Theoretically," she managed to punch out.
"You don't sound confident." She wasn't.
"Well, it is just a proposal. The research I had at my disposal when writing it was very limited. From what I've read about the titans, I understand that besides some proportional differences, they have bodies similar to us. Including full skeletal, digestive, and muscular systems; the only thing they lack are reproductive organs. But there hasn't been any extensive research done on the systems because a titan's body dissolves after it's killed."
"Yes," Hange confirmed, "though what little research has been done suggests that none of their systems have any baring on their functioning. They eat, but they don't digest. They're inactive at night, but they don't need sleep. They regenerate, but they don't expend energy to do it. It's all very fascinating."
"Right. And I also read that titans bleed when wounded which means they also have a circulatory system. For a toxin to have any effect, their circulatory system needs to be working in order to circulate the poison or venom throughout the body, but the blood evaporates as soon as it's exposed to air, so there hasn't been any research done on that front, either. "
"Not from a lack of trying, trust me," Hange chuckled.
"If none of the titans' inner systems actually work, then they really shouldn't have any blood to bleed then, should they?" Marceline asked.
"Those are all excellent observations, Ms. Russell! They shouldn't have blood, but they do, and that's just one of the many mysteries that we must uncover about the titans."
"Well, I won't say that I don't think it isn't a worthwhile area of research to pursue," she admitted, "but there really isn't any way to learn much about them besides what we can observe, and even then it can't be done in a controlled environment."
The smile that crawled across Hange's face was absolutely diabolical.
Marceline's eyes danced between them again, uncertain. "So, I take it you two are here to buy my proposal, or...?"
She had a bad feeling about this.
The Commander shifted in his seat and leaned forward, placing his finger atop her proposal. He fixed her in place with his intense blue gaze.
"Ms. Russell, I want you to synthesize this toxin for me."
She had seen it coming, but having his request explicitly stated still managed to floor her.
This wasn't supposed to happen. Marceline was far from altruistic, she could admit that, but it figured that on the rare occasion that she had decided to do something for someone else, it was coming back to bite her in a big way.
She had submitted that proposal partly for the money, but mostly on a sentimental whim after witnessing the return of the Scout Regiment's most recent expedition beyond the walls, which had garnered the highest mortality rate in Survey Corp's history to date.
She had still been in the process of finding a cheap place to rent to set up her new shop, after she had left her old one back in Mitras a smoldering pile of ashes before subsequently fleeing to start over. Roaming the Trost District with the local newspaper's classifieds in her hand, entirely by accident, she found herself among the crowd that lined the streets as the battered and bloodied Scouts made their way back to their headquarters, their heads hung with shame.
The expedition had been a bloodbath.
Carts upon carts overflowing with corpses were dredged through the streets, bracketed by the survivors who all seemed to be sporting at least one injury. A river of soiled white gauze and haunted faces that stared ahead at nothing as filth-covered boots shuffled forward in an assembly line leading to a mass grave somewhere along the horizon that only they could see. A heavy silence plagued the air, only broken by cries of anger and loss when an unfortunate family member discovered that their son or daughter, brother or sister, hadn't made it home.
Having spent the last handful of years tucked securely behind Wall Sina, Marceline had been spared the sight of a Scout Regiment's walk of shame until then. Due to her ability to compartmentalize faster than most, the gore hadn't bothered her. Not even when one of the carts hit a pothole in the cobblestone, causing the sheet covering the bodies to slip, sending several onlookers into an alley to vomit.
It was the lost expressions on their faces that got to her. That thousand-yard stare that begged to be told what to do next, how they could go back home and face their families, their friends, and still be the person they had been before they had left. Should they tell what they had seen, or keep it all in? Try to be who they were before, or embrace the shell they had become? Expressions that held so many questions yet managed to be heartbreakingly vacant at the same time.
Marceline had never seen a titan, never had to watch friends get tore apart in front of her, but she knew a thing or two about having an identity crisis and a conflict of morals, and it was never easy or fair when one was forced upon you so suddenly under traumatic circumstances.
They all looked so young, too.
They had probably been brimming with confidence before setting out. They had probably been so sure of who they were and what they wanted to accomplish within the regiment, and had trusted in the skills that they had spent years perfecting, and had total faith in their superiors to see them through until the end, but now, that wholehearted credence was gone and it was like they were children again. Ignorant and small. Blank slates.
The crowd around the young chemist hadn't stayed silent for long once the last of the Scouts passed. Men and women who had previously seen the Scouts off with calls of admiration, gratitude and safe wishes now murmured in low, disappointed tones over yet another failure. The talk of their taxes being wasted on boosting the titans' kill count and ruining families inevitably came up as the crowd dispersed. Marceline had lingered, though, stepping out into the street to watch the tail-end of the regiment's march until it completely disappeared from view.
She had been left standing alone, the wind gently blowing her hair about her ears and her skirt against her knees. Her eyes stayed trained ahead with an unreadable expression, a fire that she had thought had long-since extinguished suddenly igniting anew in her belly for reasons still unknown to her six months later.
That night she had written up the proposal and mailed it the next morning, using the last of her food money for that week to pay for the postage.
Since the proposal was more whimsical than anything, it was entirely within the realm of possibility that Marceline had done it just to make herself feel better. Still, beggars can't be choosers and it wasn't like the Survey Corps would care about her motivations. The proposal hadn't been intended for the Scouts, specifically. Recalling that bottomless pit of scientific repression that the royal family liked to pop a squat next to, she hadn't expected the proposal to reach anybody of note. She had assumed that it would've been lost under all the other proposals, left to collect dust in the presumably dark, dank cellar that she always imagined that they were thrown into. She had believed it to be a wasted effort, but after seeing those young, lost faces, she had felt compelled to do something.
Judging by the way the pair was staring at her from across the table, she was starting to regret ever entertaining the idea.
"Oh, I don't know about that, Commander," she shook her head. "I can synthesize a powerful poison for you if that's what you want, but not one that could work on a titan. How would I even test it? I can't go outside the walls and poke one with a syringe, and I wouldn't recommend any of your Scouts do it, either."
Hange and the Commander exchanged a meaningful look that was lost on her. With a nod from the Commander, Hange all but vibrated in her chair. She slammed her hands down on the table and stood, making Marceline jump and the tea set rattle.
"Full disclosure! We are currently in the process of obtaining a pair of test subjects!"
Marceline blinked owlishly.
Obtaining a pair of - "You're trying to capture titans? How?"
"Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head about that, my dear. I know a guy," she claimed haughtily. "The important thing is that we will soon be able to provide that oh-so pivotal controlled environment for experiments."
Marceline wasn't slow in the slightest, but she was having trouble processing this. She could hardly see how knowing some guy would help secure a titan of any size, let alone two. Considering they were the Survey Corps, it would stand to reason that if anyone could manage it, it would be the branch that had the most exposure to them, but still, if it was actually a doable feat, then wouldn't it have been done by now? The breach of Wall Maria happened over two years ago and there had been almost no progression in humanity's fight against them. In fact, it almost seemed like they had regressed in a few areas since the titans' return.
Hange continued despite the incredulous look on Marceline's face, almost foaming at the mouth.
"I'm going to use everything - fire, acid, venom - you name it, honey! Not an inch of their physiology will be safe from Hange Zoe! I plan to use everything at my disposal to find out exactly what does and doesn't work against the titans, and after I came across you proposal, I figured poison would be as good of a place to start as any. I want you make the strongest, most powerful poison you can so we can test it on our titan subjects and see how it affects them!"
Hange's words echoed throughout the backroom, followed by a long silence.
These people were nuts. Time to abort, posthaste.
"Are you sure you don't want the enemas instead?" she offered. "They're half price today."
"Ms. Russell, please," the Commander started, but she was up and out of her chair, collecting their teacups before he could finish.
"I'm sorry that the two of you came all the way out here just for this," she apologized. "I'm sure you are very busy and you were hoping for an outcome that would make the trip worth it, but I hate to say that it can't be done. That proposal was half-cocked, I never should've submitted it. I wouldn't have if I had known that there was a chance that anybody would see it, let alone take it seriously. My deepest apologies if my carelessness got your hopes up, but you would be wasting your time pursuing this."
It was a pipedream, was what it was. There were so many factors to consider. The fact that titans could bleed might suggest that their circulatory system worked at least on some level, but there was also the issue of their regenerative abilities. Even if a poison worked, the titans could simply regenerate from the damage, or work the poison out of their system before it could do any damage at all. There was a high chance that it would flat-out not work. She said so as much out loud as she turned her back to them with the intent of putting their cups in the sink of her kitchenette.
"It probably won't," Hange agreed. The sudden shift in her tone of voice from jubilant to stern had Marceline halting. "Not to the extent where it could be used in our fight against them. And if by some miracle it did work, even just a little bit, even if it worked just enough to immobilize a titan's pinky finger, the royal government would crack down on it faster than anyone could blink. Weeks, months, years of hard work and research, locked away inside an impenetrable vault of bureaucracy, if not destroyed outright. But even then, that shouldn't be an excuse not to do it. Even if the attempt is a total failure, the work done and progress made could one day act as a springboard for new discoveries down the line, when we will hopefully know more about the titans and their weaknesses. If anything, it would serve as definitive evidence that toxins won't work on titans. Not even if it comes from the biggest, baddest snake around."
Marceline stared down at the half-drunk cup of tea in her hand, her reflection staring back at her through the pale liquid.
Well...she had a point. Testing a hypothesis and conducting experiments weren't just for theories that you were confident were going to yield positive results. Weeding out the doomed-to-fails through the scientific process was just as necessary as nailing the sure-things. And if what Hange said was true, if they could actually capture a titan to study and experiment on, it could bring about discoveries that would change everything.
It could kick off the turning of the tide that humanity was waiting for and in desperate need of, the changing of everything that they had previously thought and believed about how the titans functioned. Humanity could finally be given the chance to fight back for the first time since the development of the Omni-directional Mobility Gear.
And Marceline could play a part in it, if she wanted.
"And besides," Hange added, her tone becoming carefree again, smiling, "even if your ideas don't work on the titans, I'm sure there's still a lot someone like you can contribute to us humans! You won't be able to do that in a dump- sorry, I mean, a place like this."
"Hange's right," the Commander agreed. "The Department of Titan Research needs to be expanded to encompass as many different scientific fields as possible, but there isn't a long line of able-bodied men and woman looking to join the Survey Corps, even less with the necessary qualifications for Hange's department. I believe there are many more people like you out there with the desire to help humanity's cause, but who don't have the means, or who aren't physically qualified enough to do it through military service. I would like to see an increase in civilian contracts, both with civilians volunteering and the military accepting. I think with your help, we can achieve that."
He was making her out to be more noble than she really was, but she would be lying if she said these two weren't masters at hype. She still stood holding the teacups, but she shifted her weight to one foot, showing them that she was at least considering the idea. And she was. They had come all the way out here just to see her. They were owed that much at least.
"But the military doesn't accept civilian contracts, how would I-"
"I told you that I wanted you to synthesize the compound for me, Ms. Russell," he clarifed. "You will be employed directly under me, not the military. If the law is what you are concerned about, then please don't be. If you decide to do this, then I will handle anything that comes up that doesn't pertain to what I'm hiring you to do for me. I would want you to feel secure enough to give this your full attention."
That...didn't sound wholly legitimate, or legal.
Marceline slowly finished her walk to the kitchenette and set the cups in the sink to be washed later before she braced her hands on the counter. Her fingers tapped absently as she thought.
She needed to look at this from all angles. That would be the smart thing to do, but what else was there to consider that she hadn't already? Probably a lot, but it would undoubtedly be one of those things that she wouldn't think of until much later when everything was already said and done; meaning, she wouldn't know whether she was in over her head until she was actually in it, and didn't that give her an awful feeling of Deja Vu.
On the other hand, it wasn't like she had anything better she needed to be doing right now, nor anytime soon, and she did need the money. She also already had a special species of snake in mind for the toxin that had even a modicum of potential, found only in the forbidden Steppe Wastelands, and was most definitely never studied outside of its natural habitat, and that only she had the means of obtaining...
Was she seriously considering this?
She supposed if she went into this with the lowest of expectations, she could only walk away having suffered no real losses except for wasted time.
Oh, what the hell, why not? When was the last time she did anything to benefit mankind, anyways? Helping the Survey Corps sounded sort of fun and righteous enough.
"Alright," she announced, turning to face them, "I'll do it."
The Commander gave a satisfied smile at her answer while Hange let out a "yes!" and pumped her fist, but before either could say more, Marceline held up a finger.
"I want to make one thing clear, though, before we go any further with this, Commander."
"Yes?"
"I told you that my medical expertise could do a pinch. What I mean by that is I'm not here to play doctor. If one of your men gets mortally wounded and there isn't a doctor for miles, I will step in and do what I can, but I am no substitute for a medical professional. If it isn't relevant to my work or my area of expertise, I want no part in it."
"Understood," he affirmed. "That's entirely reasonable."
"That means no training, no expeditions, and no ODM gear. And I'm not wearing the uniform. It looks great on you two, but evergreen really isn't my color."
He smiled, amused, "I had no intentions to go that far with it, Ms. Russell. You won't even have authorization to handle the ODM gear, much less be trained to use it. Not unless you plan to enlist."
"I wouldn't hold my breath," she said before putting her hands on her hips and adding with a playful point of her finger: "and don't think I'm going to be your naughty nurse, either, Commander. I'm a serious professional, you know."
Hange threw her head back and laughed while Erwin chuckled. Her humor helped dispel the tension and it left the room feeling lighter.
"Wouldn't dream of it, Ms. Russell."
They talked for a few more minutes about her qualifications again and about her proposal. The bulk of the details were going to need to be fleshed out at a later time. The Commander instructed her to start doing what she could, making arrangements and settling whatever unfinished business she might have, because it seemed that he had already decided that it was non-negotiable that Marceline wouldn't remain in Trost during her commission. She wasn't sure how to feel about that yet, but decided that the matter could wait for now.
She walked them back out into the main area of her shop and opened the door. When she turned around to see them out, she was startled by the sudden move of Hange throwing her arms around her in a crushing embrace that would've put a constricting snake to shame. Having more than a couple of inches on the young chemist, Hange practically picked her up off the ground so her feet were dangling in the air, and Marceline was almost certain that she also felt the woman nuzzle her face in her hair.
"I have a great feeling about you! Don't you worry, you'll fit right in. We even have somebody just as obsessed with bowel movements as you are!"
"I don't think shilling merchandise constitutes as an obsession, Major, and could you please let me go, please? I'm not really into public displays of affection."
"Oh-ho-ho, another thing common! Shorty is going to love you!"
Hange held on for a second longer before dropping her. The mad woman gave her a wave goodbye and stepped outside, leaving her and the Commander in the doorway.
"I will contact you with more details in a few days. Until then, take care, Ms. Russell." He stepped outside to join Hange before turning back, smiling warmly. "I have good feeling about this as well."
Marceline wasn't sure yet if she shared the sentiment, so unable to do anything else without being disingenuous, she returned the smile with a brilliant one of her own, one that lit up her face (but not quite as much as usual). As soon as she closed the door behind him, she turned around and put her back against it, letting herself slowly sink to the ground until she was sitting on her colorful entry rug.
What in the hell had she just agreed to?
~O~
Another Wednesday. Another miserable, rainy day.
Marceline did her best to quell her annoyance as she trekked down the road leading to the Survey Corps headquarters that glowed in the distance. Her ride had refused to drop her off any closer for reasons that were probably reasonable, weather being the main, but in her agitated state the chemist refused to acknowledge them as she mumbled under her breath. She had her umbrella with her, but the moisture in the air still left her hair damp and curling at the ends. Her overnight bag hung on her shoulder and her boots sunk into the mud with every step she took. It wasn't like she couldn't handle a little bad weather. She just wasn't big on traveling, and after a whole day of it, this little unexpected stroll in the rain was the last thing she needed.
Also, four rainy Wednesdays in a row? A bad omen for sure. Of all days to forget to pack her turquoise chain in her overnight bag and not her luggage. Too late to go digging around for it now.
When she finally made it to the entrance of the castle, she knocked but received no answer, which did nothing to improve her sour mood. She contemplated trying again, since this was a military base and coming in without an in-person invitation might set off some of the more trigger-happy inhabitants, but she opted to letting herself in. If they didn't want just anybody coming inside, then they should post a guard.
The interior was as lofty as the exterior, with a grand foyer bathed in romantic amber lighting. There was a ground level and an upper level adjoined by two staircases on opposite side. An evergreen banner with the Survey Corps' Wings of Freedom insignia hung from the stone railing of the upper level, above the double doors tucked underneath the landing.
Marceline listened to the air around her to see if the drafty hallways would carry any voices to her, as they were wont to do, but she heard nothing.
Her luck seemed to improve a bit, once she saw the pile of boxes, trunks and suitcases stacked neat in the middle of the foyer. Her luggage had beaten her there. She hadn't been expecting that at all. With how out of the way and isolated the Survey Corps Headquarters was, she thought she would have to wait at least a week before she saw her things, but she was no less pleased to have her expectations subverted. It would make settling in infinitely easier. As she looked over her luggage to check for signs of damage or tampering, she wondered if this expeditious delivery was the result of a little string-pulling by a certain commander. Didn't that make her feel just a little bit special?
'Well, let's see where we are now,' she mused. 'Arrive safely intact at the correct location? Check. Luggage? Check. Warm welcome? Could use some work. Tour guide to show me the laboratory and my sleeping accommodations? Pending.'
Blue eyes trailed over the empty foyer once more, and it didn't sound like anyone was going to come along soon, either. Marceline let out a sigh. She picked the hallway closest to her and walked down it.
The first couple of doors she came across yielded mostly storage rooms and cleaning closets. She eventually came to a set of double doors that led to some sort of common area. She tried the handle to find that it was unlocked. It opened with an ominous squeak to reveal a dark lounge room.
One hand gripped the doorframe while the other came up to cup the side of her mouth.
"Hello?" she called out, despite the room being obviously vacant, "anybody here?"
Her voice echoed and reverberated off the walls back to her. A pout made its way on to her face as her call went unanswered, leaving only the sound of rain hitting the windows to greet her.
"Guess not," she mumbled.
With another sigh, she turned around and made her way back to the foyer.
There was a slight feeling of dejection, but she didn't dwell on it. It wasn't like she was expecting an adoring crowd, but the familiar face of either the Commander or Hange and a towel would've been much appreciated, though she figured they must be off dealing with something of greater importance. She didn't really know what being a Scout of higher rank entailed, but she was willing to believe that it kept them busy most of the time. At least, that was what she hoped. If they were somewhere just sitting around and drinking tea instead of coming to greet her, she was going to be pissed. She needed to put her equipment in the laboratory and she had no clue how to navigate this behemoth of a building.
Fortunately, when the foyer came into view again, she found a gaggle of curious youngster milling about her luggage. Three boys, teenagers by the look of them, eyed her luggage while mumbling to each other; a dark brunette, a light brunette, and an itty bitty blondie, the apple of any grandmother's eye. At the sound of her boots clicking against the floor, they looked up to see her emerge from the shadows of the adjacent hallway. Their eyes widened at her sudden appearance, their expressions ranging from surprise and confusion to excitement.
She couldn't blame them for being a little star-struck. That had been the intention when she had set out that morning. Not only was she probably the only person within a ten, maybe twenty-mile radius not wearing a Survey Corps uniform, but she had gone out of her way to be as eye-catching as possible.
Paired with black boots with a sensible heel and blue suede gloves, she wore a trench coat that was a rich mulberry color, with bell sleeves and ruffled peach lining. Professionally stitched magnolia flower embroidery ran along the bottom of the coat and tortoiseshell buttons ran down the front.
It had been a gift from the most talented seamstress in all of Mitras. Marceline had been a guest at her granddaughter's wedding a few years back, where in which the poor bride had spilt wine on her wedding dress twenty minutes before she was supposed to walk down the aisle. Marceline had "saved the day" when she swooped in with lemon juice and a stain remover of her own creation. She hadn't known the girl personally, but the bride had been wailing so loudly, Marceline would've been able to hear her even if she hadn't been invited to the wedding. She had felt bad for the kid, and also, that wedding dress had been absolutely gorgeous. She couldn't not step in and banish the stain back to the shadows from wince it came.
The grandmother had been so impressed and grateful, that she made Marceline custom fall and winter coats, her favorite seasons, for the next four years. She had long-since sold them for money when she first came to Trost, but she had allowed herself to keep her favorite one. It molded to her body, showing off her figure while managing to be warm. Also, when paired with the right shoes, it made her appear a smidgen taller than she actually was - always a bonus.
Underneath, she wore a simple long-sleeve blouse, black knee-length skirt and black stockings. Like the coats, she had to sell almost all of the clothing she had left from Mitras, but kept a few choice articles for when she needed to make an impression. What she had on now wasn't any of them, but that was okay. Her coat made enough of a statement. And naturally, her nails were painted the same mulberry color.
She was aware that the military, especially this branch, wasn't a place for vanity, but she needed to play all the cards she had at her disposal, even if it meant putting on a bit of show to get her foot in the door. Until she could prove herself through her intelligence and work ethic, she needed to compensate for the fact that she wouldn't be trained for battle or shown how to use the ODM gear. Until either she or Commander Erwin decided otherwise, Marceline's place in the Scout Regiment was a guarantee, but there was the possibility that others wouldn't see it the same way and she needed to be ready to stand her ground if that happened.
These were just cadets, though. She didn't need to make nice with them. This wasn't Mitras, but a little ladderclimbing could go a long way in any situation. At the very least it'll help fill her back pocket with the amount of favors and connections that she was accustomed to having. The Commander had already made it clear the limits of what he could and couldn't provide her, and Hange was without a doubt beside herself that Marceline was here. They were the two with the highest standing, at least as far as she and her work was concerned, and she was already confident in her relationship with them, but who else was there she needed to make nice with?
She thought for a moment before remembering-
Where was that soldier that was always in the papers? The one they were calling "Humanity's Strongest Soldier". He was a part of this branch, wasn't he? She remembered reading about him a couple of times.
"Hello, boys," she greeted. The smile she gave had them looking even more flustered. "Are you my welcoming committee?"
"No ma'am," the blonde boy piped up, "we were just on our way by and were wondering what all this stuff was. Is it yours?"
"Yes indeed. Those men from the village sure are quick with deliveries, aren't they?"
"Are you a Scout, Ms?" the dark-haired boy with freckles asked.
"No, no," she replied with a chuckle, waving away his question. "I'm the newest addition to Major Hange Zoe's Department of Titan Research. I've been instructed by Commander Erwin to find the lab and set up my equipment. Do you know where I can find the laboratory?"
The blonde nodded. "Yeah, we know where that is. Would you like us to show you?"
"That would fantastic, yes!" she smiled and then affected a faux look of uncertainty as her eyes trailed pointedly over her stuff. "Though, I'm not sure how I'll get this luggage there all on my lonesome."
"Oh, would you like us to help you?" the blonde offered, taking the bait.
She clapped her hands. "Yes, very much! You boys are peaches."
"Don't mention it, Miss," the tallest of the trio spoke up, puffing out his chest proudly. "You've got the Survey Corps' finest here. I'm Jean, from Trost, at your service."
The other two cadets exchanged looks at the lack of introduction from their friend, but said nothing as they moved to start helping with her luggage.
"Well, Jean from Trost, it's lovely to make your acquaintance." She introduced herself, placing a hand over her chest, "I'm Marceline."
"Marceline, eh?" he tested her name like a piece of candy in his mouth before smirking. "What a sultry name you got there. Rolls right off the tongue, doesn't it?"
She had to stifle a snort, but she managed to keep a straight face. "Yes, yes, it does."
"Hey, Jean from Trost, come help us!" his friend called.
As they set to work, Marceline walked over to the clipboard with the delivery information that had been left on top of one of the suitcases. She pulled her gloves off and stuffed them in her coat pocket before picking the clipboard up and flipping through the pages. She gnawed absently on her bottom lip as she checked that her full inventory had been delivered.
A cacophony of glass bottles and metal instruments clinking too loud against each other had her head snapping up. "Please, be careful with that! That equipment costs more money than you will probably ever see in your lifetime."
"Oh, sorry," Jean murmured, looking down at the box in his arms.
That came out harsher than she had intended, but it was hardly a hyperbole. Her chemistry set was now the most valuable thing she had left to her name. There would be no replacing it if it got damaged. Understandably, she was a little territorial.
The boy with the dark hair moved to pick up a box, but the moment his eyes laid on the glass case holding the Jinae King Cobra, he froze mid-motion. His pupils dilated into pinpricks and he went deathly pale. He snapped back to full height and stumbled back a step.
"Marco?" the blonde boy asked, concerned. "Are you alright?"
"Th-th-that's a-a-" he stuttered out, pointing a shaking finger at the case.
Marceline looked up from her clipboard at the commotion. One look at the boy's reaction and she was setting the clipboard down and by his side.
"Oh honey, don't get yourself worked up," she cooed, swiping her thumb over the apple of his cheek, but he barely registered the touch, too fixated on the creature in the case. "I've got her locked up tight. She won't hurt you." She rubbed circles on his back, "from Jinae, are you?"
The cobra was the only snake she had decided to take with her. Even if her commission with the Commander was more interesting and lucrative, synthesizing an antivenom for the Jinae King Cobra was still important and she had made a commitment to do it.
He nodded. He didn't take his eyes off the snake, but the full-bodied shudders his body had broken out into subsided just a bit.
Marceline removed her hand from his back and unwrapped her scarf from around her neck. She walked over to the case and draped the scarf over it so it was covered.
"There, out of sight, out of mind."
That was one thing that she always had to give herself credit for. Marceline could be insensitive at times, a downright bitch even, but when it came to people's fears, she would never dream of making light of them. Even if she could handle the deadliest serpents without so much as batting an eye, she recognized that not everyone compartmentalized as well as she could. She was always quick to soothe and redirect their attention to keep them from accidentally getting themselves hurt in their panic. When it came to handling snakes, it was all about staying calm.
For someone like Marco, he more than likely knew first hand just how devastating a bite from this particular snake could be. Jinae Cobras were notorious for making borrows in the fields surrounding the small town, just waiting for an unsuspecting farmer, traveler, or adventurous child to accidentally step in it. For him to have such a strong reaction just seeing one inside a secured case, she was willing to bet he had a phobia of them.
The scarf seemed to do the trick. The broken eye contact and a comforting hand on his shoulder from one of his friends allowed him to calm down enough to get some color back in his face.
He swallowed thickly, "why do you have one of those, miss?"
"I'm a toxicologist with a specialty in snake venom. One of my main jobs is to study snakes and create antivenom for them."
"Antivenom?"
"Special serums, antidotes, that counteract and treat snake bites."
Marco's eyes went wide. "Is that what you're going to do with the Jinae snake?"
"Mmhm," she hummed, pointing at him with her hand curled into the shape of a pistol. She flexed her thumb to mimic pulling the trigger with a playful wink. "There hasn't been an antivenom synthesized for this species yet, but once I'm through with our little friend here, getting your foot caught in a hole will no longer have be a death sentence in Jinae."
"Wow," Marco breathed, staring at her with a look of awe, "that would be amazing, miss! Thank you so much for doing that!"
"Don't mention it. It's my job after all."
"Uhh, Marco?" the blonde boy called, peering inside one of the leather carrying cases. "You're not afraid of spiders, too, are you?"
Marco frowned. "No, not really, why do you ask?"
"No reason," he replied, closing the lid and putting the case back where he had found it.
Marco opened his mouth, but Jean cut him off.
"I don't really see why you had to come all the way out here just for that, but I'm happy you did. It'll be nice having a pretty face like yours around." He gave her a smirk that he no doubt thought oozed charm.
"I ain't half bad at that booklearnin', neither, sweetheart," she drawled mockingly, pressing her finger against her temple. "But actually Commander Erwin hired me for a different project."
"Really? What are you here to do?" the blonde boy asked.
Marceline opened her mouth to answer, but a deep, older voice cut her off.
"Apparently, clutter my foyer with shit and track mud on my freshly mopped floor."
She and the cadets looked towards the upper level to see a man standing at the top of the stairs.
The cadets paled at the new arrival, but Marceline didn't notice. She titled her head to the side as she took in the man. He wore the same uniform as the cadets, but had a white cravat tied around his neck. He looked well put together, handsome and pleasant to look at, pretty even, but gave off an intimidating aura. There was something mean about his grey-blue eyes with the dark circles underneath and the unimpressed frown he wore. He had raven hair, styled in an immaculate undercut with strands hanging in his angular face, and pale skin that almost glowed in the amber lighting of the foyer. His features were as sharp as his eyes; sharp nose, an even sharper jawline, showcasing a youthful appearance that didn't quite matched the voice she had heard.
"What is this, a singles' mixer?" the man said as he reached the bottom of the steps. Huh, funny, he looked so much taller standing at the top. "Don't you cadets have something you should be doing right now, or do you need me to find you something?"
Marceline blinked as the trio all but fell over each other. They scrambled off in different directions to escape the scathing glare being sent their way. Impressive hustle, she thought, but there went her bellhops.
Her mountain of luggage and equipment seemed more daunting than it did a second ago when it wasn't just her who had to take it on. She still hadn't located the lab or been assigned sleeping arrangements yet, either. Irritation bubbled under her skin at the setback, but she pushed it aside, instead shifting her focus on the new arrival. Perhaps he could help her.
She moved her gaze to look at him, only to find that he was drilling holes in her with his own steely stare.
He crossed his arms over his chest. "And who the fuck are you?"
The question was crass, but Marceline was unbothered. She took his brute language in stride better than someone truly from Mitras would. The man's distrustful scowl as she practically glided over to him with an easy confidence, her boots tip-tapping daintily against the stone ground, also went ignored.
She smiled at him. Not a polite, how-do-you-do-today, good sir, smile. It was her thousand-watt, take no prisoners smile. The one she used when she wanted to charm the pants off someone right out the gate. Marceline felt that her smile had always been her best feature, hands down. With a pair of high cheekbones and slightly pronounced canines and a rigorous oral hygiene routine, she had a stunning, face-splitting smile that was charming, friendly, and impish all in one package.
"I'm Marceline Russell," she held out her hand for him to shake. "I'm the chemist-toxicologist Commander Erwin Smith commissioned."
He disregarded her hand and left it to hang awkwardly between them.
"Tch, so that bushy-browed idiot actually bought himself a glorified, Mitras toy poodle to play with beakers and liquid shit all day. Wonderful. I thought he was playing some kind of sick joke on me."
She was surprised and put off by his response and refusal to shake her hand, but her smile didn't falter an inch.
Oh boy, that mean mug wasn't just for show.
She stuck her hip out and rested her hand on it as she titled her head to look at him. "Wow, what a way to undermine hundreds of years of scientific achievement with the term 'liquid shit'. Really impressive, soldier."
"We already have Four Eyes to torture lab rats all day, what do we need you for, brat?"
"Decoration," she hummed, because screw this guy, "but when I'm not doing that, I'll be developing something for Commander Erwin. Is he around?"
"No, he isn't. I'm next in command," the grouchy Scout replied.
"Oh, and you are...?"
"Busy, so stop trying to jerk me off under the table and tell me exactly what it is that Erwin brought you here to do, girly."
"I don't see why that would be any of your business." If he wasn't going to be forthcoming with her, then she wasn't going to be forthcoming with him. For all she knew, he was lying. "If he wanted you to know, I'm sure he would've told you. His second in command."
"It's my business because I'm in charge," he said sourly, pointing a finger at her. "Learn to clean out your fucking ears."
"I did this morning so I hear you loud and clear, but I don't follow the chain of command," she gestured to herself by splaying a hand over her sternum. "Erwin Smith is my employer, I only follow his orders and those were to find the laboratory, set up my equipment and get settled in. If you aren't going to help me do that, then would you please tell me where to find someone who will?"
"If you're referring to Hange's filthy pigsty, it's back that way." He gestured vaguely towards the west wing.
"Could you show me?"
"No."
At some point during their interaction Marceline noticed that they had been idly moving in a circle, the way a pair of distrustful animals may act when they wanted to observe the other and not put their back to them. When he had approached her, he had his back to the staircase and she had hers to the castle entrance, now it was reversed. It had to have been him who had instigated it and she followed to keep him in her line of sight, because circling a person like they were prey certainly wasn't a habit of hers. It wasn't her preferred way of handling obtrusive people.
She had a habit of imitating others' behavior when first meeting them, sometimes consciously and sometimes unconsciously, but this wasn't what that was, either.
She let out a soft huff, putting her hands on her hips. "Well, aren't you a charmer."
"You tracked in mud on my floor," he replied, as if that justified his repugnant behavior.
"It's raining out and I had to walk from the road. What was I supposed to do, float?" she asked him with exasperation seeping into her tone.
He ignored her jab and walked past her. If she hadn't quickly stepped aside, they would've knocked shoulders. She tsked at his rudeness, but didn't say anything.
She looked in the direction he had pointed. If he wasn't going to help her, then there wasn't much point in lingering around here. She would just have to do a little exploring, and if she accidentally walked in on something she shouldn't, then she would just tell whoever that the troll guarding the front door refused to show her the directory.
The sound of one of her suitcases hitting the stone floor pulled the chemist from her thoughts and she whipped around to see said troll prodding her pile of luggage with the underside of his boot. She balked as he carelessly kicked her stuff around, making his way around the pile with a bored expression on his face as he examined her luggage.
"Hey, stop! Don't do that!" She ran over and placed herself between her luggage and the Scout, holding her arms out. "Some of this stuff is extremely fragile! The equipment in these cases cost-"
"-cost more money than I will ever see in my life. Yeah, I heard you before. Does it look like I give a rat's ass, princess?"
The urge to ask the man just what in the hell his problem was crawled up her throat, but she bit her tongue. Whoever he was, he had significant standing in the regiment and he was clearly irate about something, which she refused to believe was really the floors because honestly, how droll, and Marceline knew when to not poke a snake.
"Fine," she conceded, holding up her hands in front of her, "I'll find the lab on my own, no big deal."
She moved to walk past him but halted when he stuck his arm up in front of her like a toll bar.
"Not until you clear out the foyer and clean up the mud you tracked in, you won't," he told her.
Her first instinct was to duck under his arm and continue on her way, or perhaps even smack it, because quite frankly nobody told Marceline Russell where to go and what to do, least of all someone she didn't even know, but there was a dangerous glint in his stormy, tired eyes that anticipated that kind of reaction from her. Despite the deadpan expression on his face, it was like they were daring her to try it.
Her own eyes trailed over his still raised arm. It seemed harmless enough, but for some reason it incited the distinct feeling in her that the appendage was actually a jaw trap in disguise, waiting for her to trigger it.
"I'd hop to it if I were you. Those cadet brats have more hustle than you do and they're children. You're not slower than a child, are you?"
This man was completely boorish, an obvious lost cause, but for the sake of making a good first impression, and a desire not to burn any bridges before she even had a chance to color code her underwear drawer, Marceline calmed herself and decided to try one last time to be civil. She put her hands behind her back and gave a slow rock on the heels of her boots.
"Well," she stretched the word out with another smile, laying the bait, "maybe if you tell me your name, handsome, it'll inspire me to move a little faster."
He did not take the bait. "Or, I can toss your shit back out in the rain."
In an instant, Marceline's smile faded, her act dropped. The man cocked an eyebrow at her sudden shift in mood. She regarded him with a stoic look that could rival his own. She pointed a finger at him.
"You, are a very rude man," she declared.
She stepped around him and his arm. It was a clear dismissal. She walked off in the direction of the labs, leaving the man and her luggage in the foyer without a single look back.
It wasn't the best idea to leave him alone with her stuff, but she needed to find the lab first before she could drag her equipment there, since it looked like she was on her own for that task ('Thanks, guy'). If he caused any damage while she was gone, she would make sure to hold him accountable.
She wandered the halls opening every door she came across, finding nothing, not even a single soul.
Where was everybody?
The Commander said that the training season had only just started, this place should've been crawling with cadets and instructors! Instead, she got to deal with Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky.
Fortunately, she struck gold behind door number twelve, opening it to reveal the communal laboratory. It was spacious and looked to have a decent setup. Several research stations, cabinets that she could only hope were filled with various apparatuses and equipment, microscopes, burners, a stocked archive, and even an impressive-looking chemistry set.
It did seem a little cluttered in places, and some of the counters didn't look properly cleared off, and the beakers on the drying rack next to the sinks were facing up instead of down, but she would hardly consider the lab a pigsty.
Her eyes scanned the room before landing on the supply closet door. She placed her bag on one of the tables as she walked by, intent on checking out what more the Scout Regiment had to offer in terms of chemicals and equipment. She opened the door to reveal a promising network of shelves filled with bottles.
"Peep, peep, peep," she tutted softly under her breath as her fingers danced over the labels of the bottles, "let's see what we have to work with here. Potassium Perchlorate, Calcium hypochlorite, Sodium nitrate, Sodium iodate," she listed off under her breath. "Nitric acid, Hydrochloric acid, Sulfuric acid. Methanol, Formaldehyde, Magnesium sulfate - Ooh, Cyanide!"
The supply closet's promising selection was a confidence boost. Despite having closed her shop, packed her bags, and travelled to the Survey Corps Headquarters; an old castle located in Bumfuck, Nowhere, Marceline still wasn't completely sold on this whole developing a titan poison thing, but seeing a stocked inventory never failed to improve her mood.
Still, she couldn't help but feel conflicted. Of course she was going to give Commander Erwin her absolute best, because they had made a business deal and a deal was basically just a promise wrapped up in a less whimsical sounding term, and Marceline always took her promises seriously. They had established already that the expectation was that this wasn't actually going to work. However, she worried that the man still held unrealistic expectations. He didn't seem like a desperate man or a man living on the edge of ruin, she always had a keen sense of being able to tell when someone was looking for something in her, something that she wasn't wholly sure she had or could give.
Marceline also knew a sinking ship when she saw one. The Commander's decision to branch out and seek a collaboration outside of the military was evidence enough that the Scout Regiment was at that point where its leader was ready to try anything just to keep it afloat. The public's opinion of the Scouts was at an all time low since their last expedition, and calls for disbandment were as passionate as ever.
In all honesty, the regiment had been on a steep decline for years. Oh, they were able to keep up appearances rather amicably with lofty beliefs and unshakeable faith and solidarity, but after the 12th Commander Keith Shadis' very public emotional breakdown and subsequent resignation, people weren't fooled by the smokescreens anymore - or so Marceline had read.
In consideration of all that, it understandably felt a little daunting to be the current commander's newest pet project. Erwin Smith had been so open, so straightforward, a true genuine article compared to the litany of scummy MP's she had, unfortunately, been acquainted with back in Mitras. She didn't want to disappoint him.
The chemist gnawed on her bottom lip as she stared at the collection of bottles on the shelf in front of her, lost in her thoughts. She pulled herself from them, exhaling softly from her nose before turning away with the intent of returning to the foyer to deal with her luggage.
She let out an embarrassing shout of surprise to find the man from before standing right behind her.
Fucking hell, she didn't even hear him-
"Listen here, you loudmouth, pompous piece of shit," he growled. He advanced on her, not at all concerned with the already limited space between them.
The aggressive move had Marceline instinctively stepping backwards, holding up a hand to maintain at least an arm's length of space, but he kept coming, forcing her to snap her hand back lest she accidentally touch him. He crowded her into a corner between two shelves. She stumbled a step just before her back hit the wall and had to grip one of the shelves to keep from losing her balance, making the bottles on it rattle. One fell over and rolled off, shattering against the ground with a loud pop. She stared at him with wide eyes and an expression that she hoped only showed confusion, and not absolute terror.
"I could care less if Erwin brought you here to entertain the troops with cocktails and lap dances, if you get in the way, if I found out that you're working with someone other than Erwin, if you put any of my men in danger, I will personally run you through with my blade and throw your corpse over the wall. Is that understood? Then we'll see how rude you think I am."
There wasn't much she could do to save face. He had her backed into a corner like a rat.
He wasn't touching her, she noticed. He was as close to her as physically possible without one part of his body touching hers. She could tell by the pure venom in his gaze that he wanted to do so much more than verbally threaten her, though, and she realized lickety-split that the only reason that he wasn't was because of her status as a civilian - not because she was a woman - not because she was weaker than him - not because it wasn't nice to hit others, but because it would reflect badly on the Commander and the Survey Corps if word got out that a Scout had assaulted a civilian. If she had been a cadet, she had a feeling she would be swallowing one of these bottles right now.
When he decided that she looked good and scared shitless, he backed off. He tugged on his jacket, smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles as he regarded her with a cold stare.
"Glad we could have this talk. To formerly introduce myself, I'm Lieutenant Levi and I expect to be addressed as such, even by little princesses like you. Now clean up this mess and get your crap out of my foyer."
He turned and left without another word, crushing broken glass under his boot as he went. Marceline didn't dare move until she heard the doors to the laboratory clatter shut, and even then she gave it another good minute. She let out a shaky breath into the now empty room, feeling like she had narrowly escaped something dangerous.
Maybe she should've stuck with selling enemas.
AN: Let me know what you think! Feedback is greatly appreciated.
