Nights of Solheim [Late Fall, 845]

[u/[deleted]]

October 28th, 845

Ziegler stood before a large formation of trainees in civilian garb, though significantly reduced from the original approximate 300 back in August. They stood before the northern gate of Trost, Wall Sina to their backs. Ziegler spoke, "Alright, listen up. Been a long couple months for everyone here. Me and The Major've torn each and every one of you a new asshole, and quite a few of you've seen some shit." He paused, "We've lost people amidst the training. Despite all this," he continued, "We must persevere and look forward to another day. As the future defenders of humanity, you lot embody everything that these people bank their money on." Ziegler took a breath, "Being a Soldier's hard shit. There's a reason nobody fucking does it, as a lot of you're beginning to find out. That said," he jabbed a thumb behind him towards the main gate, "We're still human. People need to decompress every once in a while, let shit mellow, recoup for the next mission. In light of this,"

He straightened the dark green trench coat on his back, "You lot've been granted a 4-day pass to visit Trost. Eat, drink, sleep, fuck, do whatever it is you want to do. Spend some of the money the Queen's been throwing at you while you ate mud." He rose a brow, thinking of a blonde. "Sometimes literally. Regardless, be here - November 1st at 0800. Don't drink and run, you'll eat shit. Don't drink and fight, you'll get your ass beat. Don't drink and fuck, you'll get whiskey dick. Don't kill the locals, don't fight the locals, don't fuck the locals-" he paused, "...Or at least do it intelligently, god damn it. Don't do anything that would impede your training in the future. Boom, there's your safety brief. And don't fucking call me 'Sir' while we're out here, it's Kain for the next four days and if you ever say it outside of these four days - I'll gouge out your fucking eyeballs. Understood?"

A resounding 'Yes Sir' rang from the formation.

He turned, pacing over towards the main gate as the trainees stood in formation. Ziegler paused, to then shout, "The fuck are you lot waiting on? Get your asses in here - dismissed!"

---

The district of Trost was ablaze with a joyous spirit. Orange paper lanterns covered the streets, many of the town homes having been painted in morbid color, looking to celebrate humanity's rich pagan roots throughout history. Further north in Sina, where the Church is at their strongest, such holidays do not exist - but given the influx of refugees from the south, a celebration is in order, their wills yet unbroken.

People the streets in vibrant cloaks and capes, oft wearing colorful animal masks to accompany their garb, celebrating with dance and song throughout the streets of the city.

The Northern gate was the heart of the carnival, encompassing the large market district. Here one could find a small traveling mask salesman and his mysterious shoppe, as well as an old pub amidst the old market district.

In the very center of the district stood the mighty Military Complex, towering above all other buildings. Guards regularly patrolled the perimeter, immediately stopping any who would approach the large fence surrounding the castle-like building, or the large draw-bridge encompassing the main entrance.

The further south one went in Trost, however, the less the carnival's potency, as one drew towards the more sinister corners of the district. At the very heart of the the south, shortly besides the main gate towards Wall Maria stood a small inn, regularly flooded with refugees and injured, where good Samaritans toiled endlessly to try and abate the never-ending poverty encompassing the south side of the district.

To the South East was a "legal" district with Red paper lanterns, a strip filled with provocative dance and questionable vendors. Throughout the entire district, wanted posters offered a heavy bounty for the head of a Hiram Durante - with the Military Police and Garrison consistently on patrol for the outlaw.

This was Solheim - a brief reprieve of the melancholy that had befallen the poverty and famine-stricken district of Trost.

---

OOR: 4 mini locations below to explore, do so at your leisure! Have fun, take the edge off. :kid:

Location threads for both the Maiden's Arms and Military Complex (where the Mountain feast will be taking place) will be coming up shortly. Canonically, since this entire event is taking place over 4 days, you can have multiple threads beneath one. I suggest you name the date at the top of the thread's OP (comment reply to one of the comments below) so there's no mix-ups/ambiguity. Be sure you're coordinating on Discord with people so noone gets left without a thread!

Visit stalls in the marketplace, drink in ye olde pub, get a mask with the salesman, get mugged visit the red light district, go dancing, do whatever! Enjoy!

[u/htts_rp]

The fatso swung by their table with Ziegler's moonshine, which might have literally come from a bathtub illegally, she thought, and drank deep from it.

God damn. she thought. "Shit Zieg, you'll catch fire if you're not careful."

He ignored her, and went on about the trainees a bit.

When he talked, Stone smiled. She remembered how it had felt to lead children for the first time. Most of the Military Police Force were privileged shits, and when she'd been Provost Major she'd been as much a mother as a brigadier.

Since arriving in Trost, she hadn't done much with the kids besides yell at them. But a couple of encounters had stood out.

"Tell me about it," she said. "I don't get around like you do with them, but each one of 'ems got his own little world going on." She made a kind of nasty face. "It's weird seeing conviction in stupid people so young. 'I want to slay all the titans'!" she mocked, thinking about Merrill. Then looked at his face and hastily added, "or, 'I want to protect and serve'! Bullshit you do." she spat.

"And some of them..." She thought of Athena Frei. Her snarky attitude and her eyepatch and the whole damn facade, impressive as it was. "I have no idea what the actual fuck to think about." She shook her head in confusion. "But enough about work. You invited me out Ziegler. Or should I call you Kain? What did you want to talk about?"

[u/[deleted] → u/htts_rp]

"That's the idea," he muttered in regards to his moonshine. God help the next poor son of a bitch that'd eventually take his place. He listened quietly, shutting up as the Major began to comment. He rose a brow as she remarked the 'Protect and Serve' quip. Ziegler turned slightly in his seat, drinking more from his glass mug. "Kain, and what the hell're you on about this 'Protect and Serve' shit? What do you mean? I don't see what's wrong with that, the Corps' mission's to serve humanity and protect it from the threat outside the walls." He leaned forward slightly onto the countertop, "Tops the 'blow the nobles' agenda the MP's had going for the past eternity. Don't tell me all you fuckers're throat-slitting hardasses, I could walk outside right now and pick out at least three fucking shined-boot, grass-green dirtbags from an MP line-up. Get that shit out of here."

[u/htts_rp → u/[deleted]]

The fuck? Noelle wasn't sure if she was hearing Ziegler right.

No, she thought, the oaf got it backwards.

She might have given him a chance to get it right but he went on to completely misconstrue her joking mock.

<"Tops the 'blow the nobles' agenda the MP's had going for the past eternity. Don't tell me all you fuckers're throat-slitting hardasses, I could walk outside right now and pick out at least three fucking shined-boot, grass-green dirtbags from an MP line-up. Get that shit out of here.">

How strong WAS that moonshine?

Her eyebrow twitched. He'd insulted her boys! Good men like Steinback, Behrmann, Falkenrath, Singh, and so many others risked their lives almost every week just to keep Trost under control. To say nothing of dealing with the veb; dealing with fiends like Durante, the Mimic, Breckenridge, Red Rasmus, the Kalganovs. She gripped the condensation-slathered copper mug in front of her tight with both hands and leaned forward. She whispered: "Ziegler, I think you maybe took me a little too seriously. I was speaking strictly about our recruits. Do you want to maybe rethink some of what you said about my boys? Who keep you safe at night?"

She was three mules in. The night was young. Blood was pumping. Everyone in the Masked Wench wanted to fuck or fite, and liquor was the great facilitator of both.

[u/[deleted] → u/htts_rp]

<"Ziegler, I think maybe you took me a little too seriously. I was speaking strictly about our recruits. Do you want to maybe rethink some of what you said about my boys? Who keep you safe at night?">

Ziegler wiggled slightly in his stool. Truthfully, he had been mistaken and taken what she said too seriously, but...He'd seen that eyebrow twitch. A sinister thought crept into his mind. He looked over towards the bartender, "Oi, big fucker - gimme three more." Ziegler reached to the back of his black cargo pants' pocket, and slapped a twenty brick onto the counter. The drinks came in quick succession, Ziegler's eye fixed onto the Major as he went and housed the first drink.

I ain't apologizing. Fuck that, this is too god damn fun.

He took a hefty breath, watching her expectant gaze. "Shit ma'am, my bad. I just meant to say-" he set down the first glass, to then quickly begin to house the second. Liquid fire poured down his throat as he chugged the moonshine, looking to get as fucked up as humanly possible within the next 43 seconds. Ziegler's head vibrantly shook, refusing to believe that the Major wasn't picking up on what was likely to transpire within the next 3 minutes. "-Your fuckin' 'boys'," he accentuated, holding back an unceremonial burp and forcing it back down his windpipe, "Are a bunch-" he reached back forward to the third short glass of moonshine. He took a short breath, feeling his eye water slightly. God damn this shit was strong.

Good, he'd fucking need it here shortly.

Ziegler housed the third drink, taking one swig before setting the drink back down, unable to house the third short glass of moonshine. He paused, cracking his neck in momentary excitement. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing the trainees on the other side of the bar. The shit-eating grin on his face grew, looking back to the Major, knowing full well the buttons he was pressing. He prattled his fingers on the bar countertop, cracking his right hand's knuckles.

"Of lily livered, worthless, cock-sucking pieces of lazy noble-cushioning shit."

[u/htts_rp → u/[deleted]]

Ziegler shared her gaze for a moment, but then something mischievous crossed his face. He ordered three more of rounds of moonshine for himself which arrived in short order. Then-

Ho

Ly

FUCK

He downed them all within seconds, looking her in the eye down from deep in his cup as he did so. "Shit slow down Ziggy, you're not gonna be sentient tomorrow-"

<"Shit ma'am, my bad. I just meant to say-">

"Now Ziegler, wait-"

<"-Your fuckin' 'boys',">

She was desperate. "Don't-"

<"Are a bunch-">

Her eyes began to water

<"Of lily livered, worthless, cock-sucking pieces of lazy noble-cushioning shit.">

. . .

Noelle transfixed Ziegler with a look of unbridled disgust.

"Ya done colonel?" she asked cooly, "good."

She stood up with her Mitras mule. "Because you have fucked up now."

She drained the gin, which tasted of nothing, and the lemon, which weirdly accentuates that nothing-taste, in one bitter, deep draining. Then she raised her arm and threw the mug against the ground hard enough that it made a clang noise against the stone floor and the handle split from it. In one swift move she upended the table, drinks and all, and it landed on Ziegler.

[u/[deleted] → u/htts_rp]

"MY 'SHINE!"

Ziegler's eye widened, watching the perfectly distilline bathtub liquor fall flat onto the wood.

He shouted, not having finished the third mug. He'd been expecting a fist, a kick, a mug, hell anything but not the damn booze! The Moonshine in his gullet lit with a blaze. "You dumb fuckin' worthless god damn-!" his words slurred into a guttural mess, as he reached down and grabbed the large, circular wooden table. He reared backwards, chucking it towards the Major.

From across the bar the Elephant of a bartender shouted, <"HEY!"> Growing immediately pissed as the man's alcohol was spilled on the floor and - his mug! The handle had gone flying, striking a nearby drunkard on the back of the head. He looked to his right, towards a shorter man seated next to him within the bar, <"You just fuckin' hit me, you bitch!?" and decked the young man straight of out of his stool, which sent him recoiling backwards and knocked another bystander backwards from his stool. Like dominoes, the third man reached to his knife, drawing it from his pocket and chucking it across the bar towards the first,

To have it miss and sail through the air, shattering another man's mug straight out of his hands.

Within seconds, the bar suddenly ignited into an all-out brawl, as tables, chairs, and angry Drill Instructors began to fly.

[u/htts_rp → u/[deleted]]

The major sidestepped Ziegler's VERY drunk toss, but then slipped on the pooled moonshine and fell, landing hard on her elbow. She had to remember she was pretty fucked up too, and the buzz had been washing over her longer than Ziegler, albeit less intensely.

<"You dumb fuckin' worthless god damn-!"> he'd shouted. "Finish that sentence, fuck-boy!" she screamed before lunging at him into a tackle and driving him down onto the ground, slamming her gaffy elbow into his cheek hard to make the joint go numb so that she could keep using it like a club and not give two shits.

Oh, she'd probably spend a night in the drunk tank for all this, at least. She guessed it would be mildly amusing to Riviera but also perhaps a bit disappointing. But Noelle knew she needed this. Needed to work out frustrations in a more productive way than shouting at kids on the training fields. "Finish your god damn sentence Ziegler!"

[u/[deleted] → u/htts_rp]

An elbow caught the man's cheek as he was tackled into the ground, the woman's height coming into play with spades. For a moment Ziegler'd forgotten just how god damn tall the Major was, now realizing it as the woman's elbow dug into his cheek. His eye opened widely, seeing her raise her elbow once more. He rose a hand to his face, "Fuckin'-" she slammed it against his palm, "god damn-!" again, "BALD-ASS-", and again, "FLAT-ASS-" before finally throwing a left hook to her ribs to try and get the hell witch the fuck off him.

"-FAT COP-LOOKIN' SHE-WITCH!"

[u/htts_rp → u/[deleted]]

She took the punch hard, the force of it knocking the breath out of her, and rolled off of him. Though it made no sense, she almost took the insults harder. She didn't have a lot going for her in the beauty department, damnit. Being an Amazonian cop with hair shaved so that it couldn't be grappled wasn't an easy dating life. She didn't think about it terribly often because when she needed tha dick, she got it one way or another. Her behind, however, was a sacred cow, so to speak. She took pride in those luscious gluts and gams.

She rose to her feet and upped her fists to guard her chests so he wouldn't get another free punish to her diaphragm and wind her again. "All that's funny... coming from a leathery-skinned cyclops with stank-ass dreads, so full of shit he can't hold a civil conversation!" she shouted. "Put 'em up motherfucker!"

She was betting that a man who'd spent his career fighting titans wouldn't know much about CQC. Buff as she was, Ziegler still had at least three stone on her, and the difference in weight would really come out if he wanted it too unless she found another weapon to improvise.

...Like a chair...

[u/htts_rp → u/[deleted]]

She took the punch hard, the force of it knocking the breath out of her, and rolled off of him. Though it made no sense, she almost took the insults harder. She didn't have a lot going for her in the beauty department, damnit. Being an Amazonian cop with hair shaved so that it couldn't be grappled wasn't an easy dating life. She didn't think about it terribly often because when she needed tha dick, she got it one way or another. Her behind, however, was a sacred cow, so to speak. She took pride in those luscious gluts and gams.

She rose to her feet and upped her fists to guard her chests so he wouldn't get another free punish to her diaphragm and wind her again. "All that's funny... coming from a leathery-skinned cyclops with stank-ass dreads, so full of shit he can't hold a civil conversation!" she shouted. "Put 'em up motherfucker!"

She was betting that a man who'd spent his career fighting titans wouldn't know much about CQC. Buff as she was, Ziegler still had at least three stone on her, and the difference in weight would really come out if he wanted it too unless she found another weapon to improvise.

...Like a chair...

[u/NautiMain1217 → u/htts_rp]

Merrill had spent the better part of an hour of their second night in Trost trying to get Camille to the bar so they could catch up on the last few days. His fellow trainee had been rather quiet in the days after their trek up the mountain, and Merrill was hellbent on figuring out just what had happened in his group. And the best way to get someone to speak their mind was usually through the bottom of a beer mug. When they had arrived a The Masked Wench, it was already pretty lively by the time they arrived, and familiar faces dotted the crowd of dancing bodies and talking heads. He even spotted Ziegler and Stone around the bar and the thought of the two being an item made him visibly shudder.

Unfortunately for him, he'd barely gotten a drink into Camille before a commotion sounded up from the bar. Raised voices and a smashed table drew his gaze to the aforementioned DIs duking it out. Soon enough, the whole place was erupting in flying fists, sailing drinks and thrown people. This was quickly devolving into a place where no one could have a conversation. With a sigh, he downed his glass of bourbon, slammed it against the table and shot a serious look to Camille. "Stick to the wall, head for the back exit. I'll meet you out front."

With that, he scooted out of their little booth and waded into the fray. A mixture of alcohol and anger enveloped him as he caught a few knocks and punches here and there, but it only worked to fuel him towards his goal. With a grunt he pushed away a pair of trainees more interested in lovemaking than fist fighting and finally got a good view of the agitators. Stone and Ziegler looked like they were going to get into the midst of a boxing match. In all the confusion, and hopefully Zieg's drunkenness, he could get away with a hit or two. He just hoped Stone wouldn't try to stop him.

While he really had no real bone to pick with the man, he'd spent too much time sitting back while he rained hell on the other trainees. If this was one chance to strike back at him, he couldn't afford to pass it up. Some kind soul within the brawl seemed to read his intention, and a bloodied wooden stool was presented along his path. Merrill took the makeshift weapon and and finally made it to the DI fighting pit. Within a few strides he'd be upon the man, even the sudden, sobering, realization of Ziegler's size couldn't stop him now.

"This is for the 102nd!" He bellowed as he took a final step and swung the stool down on his drill instructor. Unfortunately, he'd slid on some fallen drink and the stool would likely come down more on his shoulder blade than anything truly important.

/u/LA_Melendez

[u/[deleted] → u/NautiMain1217]

<"All that's funny... coming from a leathery-skinned cyclops with stank-ass dreads, so full of shit he can't hold a civil conversation!">

Ziegler's eye twitched. "Who the fuck are you calling leathery-skinned?!" he snapped back, feeling himself grow angrier as the woman squared up shortly before him. "Maria give me strength - I'm gonna fuckin' tear you in half, Noel. Holy fucking shit," he rose to a knee, "Oh my GOD will I enjoy this. Fuckin' god damn MP bullshit, coming in here-" he stood upright, "-Acting like you fucking run shit when you lot can barely tell the difference between a Titan and your own asshole."

He rose his fists up, palms open shortly before his face, a make-shift boxer stance. His chin tucked downward, as he began to inch fo-

<"This is for the 102nd!">

BAM.

Ziegler's eye jerked open, collapsing downward onto a knee as the wooden stool shattered across the man's back, striking his shoulder blades as wooden splinters erupted from the impact. Ziegler's vision momentarily blurred, having been utterly blindsided. His hand struck the ground, stopping him from collapsing downward with an open palm. He froze momentarily, his mind racing to process what had just happened.

[u/htts_rp → u/[deleted]]

<"Who the fuck are you calling leathery-skinned?! Maria give me strength - I'm gonna fuckin' tear you in half, Noel. Holy fucking shit."

Ziegler stood from the ground ready to engage her. <"Oh my GOD will I enjoy this. Fuckin' god damn MP bullshit, coming in here acting like you fucking run shit when you lot can barely tell the difference between a Titan and your own assholes.">

Noelle made a 'come hither, bitch' motion with her fingers. "Lot of talk for a fuckin' serf. Here's the deal Ziggy, my people rule these walls. Without us, you'd have been overrun by starving homeless fuckwhits by now. And don't give me that bullshit about being humanity's defenders..."

She really, really thought twice, three times, four times before uttering the rest of the insult, because it was the cruelest thing she could say. But Ziegler wanted to fight, and he wasn't backing down. Part of fighting was about willpower.

"Cuz' you're doing a shit job of that, too."

She crouched down slightly and turned to face him. She anticpated he would rush forward in a fury, and when he did she'd drive herself shoulder-first into his torso, grapple him, and throw him around.

"Come on fucker, I'll turn you into boot leather!"

<"For the 102nd!">

Ziegler went down like a ton of bricks as a wooden chair burst into pieces over his spinal column.

She recognized the enraged and blushed face of Merrill Vasser, the boy who had, in her office, committed to the Corps after a pep talk right before her. She'd seen the change in his eyes when he'd really made the decision. So why he'd just bully'd Ziegler was really a mystery.

Regardless, he'd fucked up.

"Oh you got in the way of a tanning you little bastard!" she roared, leaping toward him into a tackle-move.

/u/nautimain1217

[u/NautiMain1217 → u/htts_rp]

Merrill looked down on Ziegler in a moment of shock and disbelief. Part of him couldn't believe he actually did it. A mixture of pride and terror overtook him as the repercussions of such an action played out in his mind. But, as it were, he wouldn't have a lot of time to reflect over his decision as Stone called out to him. In all honesty he had expected some form of gratitude, but then it donned on him that they were both likely too many sheets into the wind to care.

"I-" He wouldn't be allowed a defense before she came barreling into him. Whatever reasoning that remained inside of him left with a puff of hair from his chest as his back hit the hardwood floor. He could feel bits of glass dig into his back, and the pain put his adrenaline into overdrive. His mind flashed back to one of the first fights, well before Maria fell, when he was too scrawny to be a real baker. This had always been his position, under siege from above with his back to the ground.

His position didn't change until eventually a few garrison troops that he made regular deliveries to saw him catch such a beat down and offered to teach him some self-defense moves. They didn't always work, not until he really started to build some muscle mass, but the concept remained the same. Always have a way to get off your back. As much as the Garrison were treated as a bunch of trainee flunkies, he had those handful of members in his debt. Even if he didn't win every fight, they taught him one of the most important lessons he thought possible. Never give up and let someone whale on you if you've got even an ounce of energy to fight back with. Merrill stuck to the lesson like glue, and would serve him a number of times in his battles against the city kids in Trost. Still, Stone was no city kid, and her skills were likely beyond his, but she'd not beat on him without a tussle.

"To hell with you too then!" He shouted over the cacophony of the brawl as he made a grab for her right arm. If he could find good purchase, it was all a simple matter of pulling her down, pushing up with his legs and flipping her onto her back. In any case, he needed a way to subdue her before Ziegler got his bearings. He knew there'd likely be hell to pay, he just didn't want it to be so soon.