because i was born into this world

[usurpers]

Who: eren jaeger & you!
When: night of the 13th!
Where: --
What: dream a lil' dream event catch-all! those who would like a memory are welcomed to choose from the list i have here, just get in contact with me either through pm, plurk (liberos) or discord (owlie#3609), and i'll write you a starter like the ones below ♥!
Warnings: not only written content but visuals will be in the comments for major attack on titan spoilers, drinking, suicide ideation, violence, gore, cannibalism, mentions of rape, abuse, slavery, child prostitution, war and genocide. specific warnings for each will be in the headers!

[ when things start out as a dream, eren doesn't necessarily start it aware that it's a dream he walks in. his dragon form, a little smaller than an adult stag, doesn't question why or how he's ventured into the looking glass house— only that it called and compelled him with whispers he couldn't actually hear, hums and the ethereal glows beyond what the eyes could see, the same way it would when it was time for him to return to what was beyond that.

it doesn't take long to find his mirror; a plain one that stretches tall with a simple wooden frame to those who know little to nothing of eren jaeger. for those who know more, or even more will see the bone-shapes carved into the wood to resemble a spine. ribs seem to span into wings and copper chains hang from one of the corners, broken and snapped. the dragon, once staring at the reflective shine his eyes give into the mirror for long enough and catching his breath, dives into the ripple of this mirror's fake surface in hopes that it will return him to where he belongs, to where he needs to be. you too, may go after him, or perhaps the mirror, for one reason or another, calls you to venture and enter. or maybe you fall in? anything can happen in a dream. there's no one truly stopping you, and when you do, you fall into a vast pool of fractured events and voices.



you fall into a pool, and into one of many memories. ]

Comments

[usurpers]

[ it's something he couldn't quite understand when he asked shadis personally, but today— it's something that he could pick out with enough observation. the night turns to day once more, and the younger eren is the only one waiting to begin his exam. it was either pass or fail, now. his military mates gather around the equipment and he readies himself, looking as nervous as anyone under a ridiculous amount of pressure would. his friends give him a thumbs up, his rivals make faces. the rest watched with anticipation. ]

He loved my mother.

[ there's fire in his gaze as he surges his own confidence, as they raise him off his feet and force the boy to dangle himself. he twists his legs and torso into completely different angles, ones they shouldn't be in. but there he hangs and holds: for one, two, three— nearly five seconds before flipping with his legs flagging in the air and his shoulders to the ground.

"no, wait— please, i had it—!"

eren sounds desperate and shadis, the instructor, could only stare wide-eyed at him. he bypassed rigged equipment with willpower alone. with a biting gaze full of fangs.

"you," the instructor orders a nearby cadet, "switch gears with jaeger." ]

I could only guess he didn't want this life for me.

[abandonware]

[Even with her limited experience, this is something she understands well — the desire to save out of love. Number 4 had done this for her, thinking it a mercy. And later, 2B had done so for 9S, thinking the same.

Even she had done it, knowing the futility of it. She wonders if it made a difference. She doubts it did.

As she watches this memory, this boy struggle despite all his efforts, she turns her attention to the instructor, something like frost enters her gaze. There was no mercy in this, she knows. Only stupid, misplaced kindness. It didn't belong anywhere on a battlefield.]

Guessing he didn't get his wish.

[That was always how it went.] Did you pass?

[usurpers]

Like he said once before— he was just a bystander.

[ it doesn’t take much long after the question for it to be visibly answered. in new gear and being hoisted once more, to all of the surprise on the young boy’s face, he’s dangling upright. a bit of a tremble comes into his limbs and a visible strain in his legs to keep up, but not one second does he flip over like he used to. he doesn’t have impeccable balance, buts it’s enough to succeed.

“your belt was broken,” shadow lies through his teeth. “so that means–?!” “pass.” the younger eren can’t help it. in front of everyone, both his arms shoot upwards and his eyes burn with fire. he did it. ]

You sound like you know your way around mechanics.

[abandonware]

[The memory filters through again, showing his victory, his determination to succeed despite the odds leveled against him, and perhaps some time ago this would make A2 happy to see. But she is well-versed in war and all its atrocities, and even for something that had never been human, the idea of any child being warped by the horrors of battle is a thought that comes with no pleasure. It makes her think of the machine children, and for a moment the memory of it fills her with the powerful urge to turn her gaze away from this boy and his fierce pride. She does not.

It was an impressive achievement. She can acknowledge that much.]

I don't know this equipment.

[Comes her answer, after a pause.]

But I'm an android, designed to fight. Not really a big leap to make.

[usurpers]

[ he knew what robots were, but the new word doesn’t clear up much when left alone, only bits and pieces to fill in the blanks by himself.

the older, draconic eren shows no accomplishment, but the face of a man worn and unknowing how to stop his own march. he didn’t know what the hell he was getting into then, fueled only by hate, and it wasn’t like that would change something or make him want to change something in the past.

“designed” to fight. now, eren takes a better look at her, up and down— even with his eye for detail and color, he could be fooled. ]

You’re made of machinery?

[abandonware]

["Made of machinery." It's an innocently-used phrasing, likely the best way someone unfamiliar with the details of artificial life could refer to someone like her. But it stings some, dredges up an awful, nauseating memory. Something ripples across the steady impassivity of her face at it, something like discomfort. Like remorse. Her vitals spike for a second, the black box serving as her heart working overtime.

Then it passes, and she answers, her tone level, her expression eerily blank.]

That's one way to put it, yeah. I was made, not born. Modeled in the image of humanity.

[usurpers]

[ eren catches something he doesn’t have too much context for— but he’s perceptive. a twitch of something underneath her . . . skin? for now, he keeps it tucked away to make sense of it in the future, one that could be near.

it doesn’t change too much from what he told mettaton. ]

It doesn’t make you any different, then. Does it?

[ just— enhanced, maybe. eren can’t tell, he doesn’t particularly excel in any type of engineering that isn’t a + b = c. levers. maybe a few gears that moved each other. the rest started to complicate. ]

[abandonware]

[So many of them had said this, in the time she's known humans: I can't tell the difference, it doesn't make you any different. Even her own, doomed conversation with 9S, she had tried to reach an understanding with him by saying this: that they were modeled to act the way they acted, to be like humanity, and so love them.

In the present, A2 shakes her head.]

It makes me different.

[What human had ever been created for pointlessness? She can't imagine it, not with her limited frame of reference.] Don't worry too much about it.

[usurpers]

[ oh, there is no worry. was he understanding wrongly? there were ways and ways to interpret that, and the way ere does brings a soft ease to his features. honestly, the answer was better than his own. ]

There’s nothing to worry about. [ even as their memory here fades dark and words feel like whispers, even when spoken loudly. ] You’re right.

[ he remembers his mother, what she had said that he never got to hear in her voice and what he had adopted in his own addition of philosophy : there is something special about all of us, and that’s our difference. we are free. ]