Rescue Efforts [open]

[Arvon Lawler]

    “Quick!” Arvon dragged along frantically, his crutch scraping the loose gravel as he approached his next patient. Sweat cascaded across his filthy visage with his vivid blonde hair now only a mop of dust and dirt. A pack of medical personal galloped ahead of him, collapsing beside a man whose cries added to the ambience of devastation. As he limped forward Arvon spent a moment to observe his surroundings, his azure eyes dashing every direction in frantic horror. What if there were more?! The Military Police had assured them that all Titans had been defeated, but the overwhelming terror of what Arvon had witnessed five years ago within the confines (which all believed to be safe) of Wall Maria could not be quelled. He glanced, dejected at his liability mocking him with every “step”. He was distraught with his permanent situation: he would be a burden for the rest of his life and with the way things were going he did not have much time before his limited expertise in medicinal herbs would not protect him from the inevitable. Two years after the attack on the outer wall the government saw fit to remove thousands in an effort to recover what was lost. Of course no one came back. Arvon had almost been one of those people; only through his sheer determination to show that he was still of some use that he escaped such a cruel fate. 

    “Arvon!” One of the women screeched angrily, her wrinkled brow furrowing deeply. Arvon jolted but continued to limp himself furiously. Within moments he tumbled before his patients using his bum leg as a cushion for the purposely executed fall. There was no time to waste on a gentle descent. “Condition!?” His cerulean eyes darted about the victim’s body searching for any obvious limbs lost. Thankfully for this gentleman he was lucky. Before his team could finish explaining what had transpired Arvon had found the source of the problem. A cavity the size of an orange throbbed at the man’s side and protruding from it was a wooden barb. Because of how deep it had punctured him it had kept bleeding to a minimum, working like a plug even though it was the very thing that tormented him. Removing it without a proper plan would be catastrophic.  

    He had dealt with this constant overwhelming stress of survival resting in his hands however Arvon was slowly loosing himself, going into fits of heavy panic. His body froze and his heart hammered within his chest, his breath loud and frantic. He ogled at the gap, his ability to move broken. His hands only hovered above as the others buzzed beneath him in frenzy. Arvon felt a strong shove, his mind colliding back into his body. “Pull yourself together and do something!!” Another woman shouted her piercing eyes cursing him. 

“R-Right!” Arvon reached into his satchel and rummaged through. He grabbed a tube of black powder, a bottle of whiskey, a box of matches, and a bottle of curious mucus-like herbs and set them on the ground beside him. “Someone grab a stick or something to give the man. We are going to have to cauterize the wound!” Before long someone had broken the circled that surrounded the victim scurrying anxiously to find a stick. Within a few moments they joined the circle again, placing the stick into his mouth to keep him from biting his tongue. It was going to hurt like hell but they needed to keep it closed or he would bleed out within seconds. Arvon applied the green mucus around the wound as well as some of the powder for good measure. “Alright,” He pointed to a young man at his right. “You are going to pull the barb. I will apply the gun powder and,” Arvon pointed to the women who had shouted at him, “You both are going to sear the wound closed got it?” There was no time for arguments so they accepted their tasks and began to prepare for the painful operation. 

The young man gripped the giant splinter and pulled. The sound of squelching blood and organs and muffled screams caused many of them to retract in terror. Tears cascaded across the patient’s face creating rivers of white across his dirty face. Arvon poured the rest of the bottle onto the wounds while the women acted fast, burning the flaps of skin closed with a hot burst. The smells of burnt flesh made many of them gag and cough while drawing their heads away for fresh air, but to no avail. The scent of fire was everywhere, the smell of bodies and sorrow would not dissipate. As the wound closed Arvon began to soak the wound with alcohol to destroy the bacteria. Afterwards he applied more of his mystery concoction to cool the skin. Before long his comrades shoveled the man onto a stretcher and trotted away, leaving Arvon. 

Arvon Lawler stared at his callused hands, exhausted and broken. Within moments he shunned his eyes away from the world, burying his tattered hands into his face. Arvon then released a muffled cry, dropping his face to the floor, weeping. He couldn’t take it anymore. He was tired of this life. He wanted to go back to his naivety, back to a life without worry or care for the outside. He wished he died that day in Wall Maria five years ago. He wished he hadn’t been saved today by whoever it was. He wished the Titans had just… 

Eaten him? The thought terrified him. The sounds of bodies breaking beneath their massive jaws… the screams of his parents as they were picked like fruits from a tree for those disgusting creatures. He didn’t want to die! Not like that but this… all of this was too much. “I…I…” He muttered aloud but fell back into himself, whimpering softly.  

[Marco Bott]

This place wasn't safe! Why where there still so many people stranded in the streets, so many screaming voices? He thought that everyone had gotten out of here by now... But the cadets and scouts were left to clean up this place - they had to make sure that the titans were kept at bay whilst the civilians were able to escape. Of course that would have been much too easy, and Marco was aware of it, no matter how much he wanted to believe this hellish world was just a figment of his imagination. It was cruel and unforgiving, but it was home, and they had to help whoever they could. He knew that his skill set simply wouldn't be up to par in the category of killing titans, so he decided the best thing to do was take to the streets and help anyone that he possibly could.

From the rooftop the cadet jumped, using his gear to glide safely to the ground. His boots touched the cobblestone ground quickly, and he was then running toward the first sounds that he heard. Marco's hazel eyes were scanning the area with narrowed, tunnel vision; when he rounded a few corners, he saw a group of people surrounding what was probably a person that was in need. Marco's chest was tight and his heart was beating a thousand miles a minute, but he knew that this was what being a soldier meant - he had to be willing to throw himself in any situation and offer up his services. He wanted to help, and help he would.

Before he could get close enough, though,, he saw the crowd of people dispersing, as were the screams. Dumbfounded and confused, Marco watched as the person in question was hauled away and one person was left behind, but he didn't seem to be handling the situation very well. Honestly, who could? Marco didn't understand how any of them were supposed to just take it all in stride like some of the Scouts seemed to be able to do. The Garrison were definitely distraught, but that was only because they weren't used to this just as much as the trainees and civilians were - there was simply far too much that was unknown. Now, they were faced with the beasts that would rear their ugly heads and open their wretched mouths to digest all of humanity if they weren't ready to fight back against them.

The poor figure in front of the cadet placed his hands in his face, a gentle cry surfacing above all else. In the distance, Marco could plainly pick out a titan falling to the ground at the hands of one of the Scouts, and he was thankful that they wouldn't have to face it all on their own. Cautiously, the kind young man took a few paces forward and reached out a bit before letting his arm fall back to his side. He wanted to be able to help those in need, and maybe this approach wasn't what he initially had in mind, he figured that those "in need" didn't have to be mortally wounded. Taking a gulp of saliva to methodically try to calm his nerves, the soldier took a place beside the trembling figure, gently placing the palm of his hand upon the other's shoulder to grasp his attention. He knew that it could be a little scary and probably quite surprising to see an unfamiliar face during a breakdown as heavy as this one.

"Hey, shhh, it's alright." His gentle voice cooed out in a relaxing and calm manner. If there was one thing that Marco could do absolutely perfectly, it was definitely consoling those who were in a wretched state of mind. "You did a great job. Here," He carefully used his other hand to try and move the broken teen into a sitting position. "Just sit back.. Take deep breaths. What's your name?"

[Arvon Lawler]

Arvon could only feel the blistering river of tears against his flushed cheeks, completely oblivious of what approached. Curling closer inward he heard a sound. That sound. A thunderous crash rumbled the floor beneath him. The earth shivered in terror of a strange force that galloped upon the land. The ear splitting cry of a massive beast encroaching this peaceful nest Arvon called home. He was unaware that a Scout was cutting the Titan down; all he could focus on was the possibilities of death. His irises tightened and teeth gritted madly, quick gasps escaping beneath his buried face. His cruel mind’s eyes swirled to a dark time five years ago. The screams of people sprinting to safety and Arvon’s mother shrieked above him as she was scooped from their home. He could still hear the sounds of her insides breaking beneath the Titan’s massive maw, her shouts silenced beneath the squelching of blood and flesh. Arvon was not completely sure what had happened to his father but the state that his shop had been was proof that nothing good happened. Soon his visions swallowed him to the sound of thrumming feet and more panicked screams. Arvon was sprawled on the floor, buried beneath the legs of a frantic mob. His leg began to ache. He could only lay there, feeling his body break with each colliding step. Please stop. Make it stop… please… stop…STOP… STOP!

Hey, shhh, it's alright. Arvon was pulled from his nightmare by a soothing whisper and his cerulean eyes opened first to darkness until he raised his head to the outside world. He was not exactly sure what to expect when he looked from his self created walls but… Definitely not what I’m looking at right now. Arvon reflected. A young man, probably Arvon’s age stood before him. Although they certainly shared experience by years lived in the world, the stranger carried himself much differently than the cripple. The boy had very pleasant features, an almost angelic innocence rarely seen. Although adorned with armor meant for a warrior Arvon saw a peaceful soul. The boy’s sweet melody was alien to Arvon but he was sure that he wished for more.

You did a great job. Here…The crippled boy only stared at the Cadet, ignorant at first to the gracious hand he offered. It took a few moments for Arvon to finally rouse himself from his state of shock and stop staring. Shaking his head awkwardly he realized the boy was trying to adjust Arvon in a more comfortable position. The cripple felt his body glide like a string possessed puppet and allowed himself to take a long heavy breath. Then was asked, What's your name?

My name? Arvon was dumbfounded. “Ah… its… its…” His voice was hoarse. “Ar-Arvon. Arvon Lawler.” It took all his energy just to address himself properly. He turned to the mystery boy, blue eyes glittering with pools resting beneath his irses. “W-Who are you?”

[Marco Bott]

Oh man, this poor boy seemed toe be broken. Marco knew what it was like - he had never experienced it personally on a first-hand basis, but he had been around those who.. Simply couldn't take it anymore. This world was a hellish experience when things were brought with a thick candy coating. Marco was aware of this, but he did continue to tr yand make the best out of a bad situation; he remembered how it was to be oblivious to everything surrounding him, back in his home in Jinae. His parents loved him and supported him through every decision that the young man were to make, and he was sure that they would be as equally proud of him no matter what he decided to go into. It was a hard thing to go through, leaving all of that behind in exchange for this.

"Arvon," He began to speak as soon as he noticed that the other was complying to anything that was being handed to him currently. That definitely was for the best, considering that the poor boy wasn't in the best state of mind. When there is too much fear, too much insecurity and not anyone there to help shoulder the pain.. Things could become hairy. Marco didn't want that to happen to Arvon, after he had seen the display of desperation in regards to saving the wounded man's life. "I'm Marco. I'm a cadet in the military and I'm here to tell you that you did a fantastic job, okay?" As Marco moved Arvon against a wall to rest his back upon, he noticed that there seemed to be something the matter with the other's leg. He didn't think much of it for the time being, knowing that whatever was going on with him physically was nothing compared to what was going on with him mentally.

The ear in Arvon's eyes was more than enough of an indication to show the turmoil raging inside this poor soul's head. The soldier wished that there was more he could do, but perhaps just being a soothing voice did more than he could have ever imagined. Going through this without expecting it to happen was even harder than those who were trained and prepared - they hadn't a clue how to fight back, they didn't have any knowledge on how the titan's worked or how to avoid them if such a thing were to happen. They didn't have gear that could aid them in a getaway from a dangerous situation. Arvon, like any other civilian, had to work to their own devices, which usually wasn't much if anything at all.

Once Arvon was rested up against a wall, Marco got on his knees in front of him, inspecting him to make sure he didn't see any wounds or bleeding.

"Are you hurt?"

[Arvon Lawler]

Arvon felt his muscle ease, the cool tingle of skin touching the granite foundation however his azure eyes were still transfixed on the cadet. With his senses clearing the blonde boy was able to ingest the features of his kind sponsor. As mentioned before he had a serene form with irises bleeding of reassurance and solace while still appearing stalwart to the desperation surrounding them. To add to his purity there was a small bouquet of freckles on each cheek, covered of course by the muddle of war and dirt. Arvon looked to the stranger’s sides noticing curious contraptions suspended at his hips, sheaths nestled at arm’s reach. He concluded that they were most definitely the gear used by the Military, obviously. The uniform was a dead giveaway but this was honestly the first time Arvon distinctly studied them. Most military personal he had run into were the Police which if memory served correctly only those with special permission could carry the gear, or obviously circumstances like today…


I'm Marco. I'm a cadet in the military… Thankfully Arvon hadn’t completely lost direction and was able to deduce the obvious. Marco? The name was extremely appropriate to what was presented. The blonde cripple smiled pleasantly feeling his soul crawling out further from the dark. Arvon noticed Marco glance at his “liability” however seemed to dismiss it just as quickly. Most took immediate offense to Arvon, like he wished for pity or compensation but all Arvon wanted was his humanity back. Until experiencing it yourself you never truly understand the social pariah you become when permanently indignant. The shame began to flutter into his belly and his only reply was to pull his bum leg closer and attempt to pull it from view. He normally would turn away in embarrassment but Arvon did not want to draw further attention to this kind soul. Deep down he was extremely delighted that Marco did not outwardly shame him and even if he was deep down, Arvon’s ignorance to it was refreshing.


I'm here to tell you that you did a fantastic job, okay? Arvon’s attention was pulled and he could not hide his initial surprise. His face formed to confusion. What had he done? Honestly Arvon could no longer remember why he was even here. I was… Oh yes. The memory washed up like the tide. Realizing, the blonde shook his head gently in protest. “I-it was nothing. J-just doing my job.” It was true and Arvon no longer took what he offered with a badge of honor but a duty and requirement for survival. If he did nothing, he would be Titan food for sure.


Lost in thought and stare distant he was pulled from his imaginations as Marco scrutinized him, as if searching for something. Then he asked, Are you hurt? Arvon was not exactly sure how to answer the question so he just shook his head vacantly. He was not sure what he was experiencing right now. Shock? Perhaps. His “episodes” had been getting progressively worse and this second attack had beaten Arvon emotionally to the ground. Hearing those sounds again, the booming of their feet trampling like the Four Horsemen. The thought sent a shiver through his spine and he retracted once again, eyes beginning to well up.

[Marco Bott]

He knew that nothing he could do would be able to heal this poor soul back to the way he was before all of this started. Hell, he knew that he, himself, would never be able to fully recover. It changes a person entirely to witness something of this magnitude - it was more than enough to rouse even the most deepest and most darkest pits of insanity to rise up within the mind.. It was a miracle that the soldiers that remained warm bodies weren't giving up and forcing their own bodies off the edge of thew all without the gear to break their fall. Marco, of course, would have never considered such a thing, but the way that some of them had been talking before the attack started...

Daz came to mind. He was struggling so much with the fact that the majority of the soldiers that went into the battle wouldn't be alive by the end of the day. It brought about the question: Who? Who would be standing when the sun finally set on the wretched daylight hours? Who would be left to continue to devote their hearts and their bodies and their services to the Military when this was all over...?

Even people like Marco could doubt.

"H-Hey-!" He gasped out the word, though he couldn't help but stutter at first. Apparently Arvon had gone into another episode, and the soldier ha to think of any way possible to try and prevent him from allowing his condition to worsen more so than it already was trying to do. The boy was filled with lesions, though none of them were actually scarring the skin of his body. All of them were internal, but sometimes, those wounds could be far worse than anything that of physicality could do... Wounds could heal, but memories stayed there forever, picture-perfect in the essence of the fragments that made up a person as an individual. Experiences were what shaped the very foundation of that person.

And Arvon seemed to have seen way too much for him to be repaired.

"it's okay.. It's alright." Gently, Marco let one of his hands wander to the boy's shoulder, trying to shake him out of whatever hell he was stuck in, gently moving his torso back and forth. "Snap out of it-" When he figured that he had Arvon's attention, he gave a gentle, delicate smile with a few curt nods. We need to get you out of here. Is that okay?" Honestly, Marco wasn't too terribly sure where he was intending on taking this battered and worn boy. He wasn't in any condition to do any sort of long traveling, and Marco couldn't really control his gear with a person to carry... Or maybe he could. Connie seemed to be able to do it just fine whenever Armin's gear had been acting up - whatever happened, he would figure something out. That was what an honorable soldier did, after all.

For now, he figured that getting Arvon inside a building would be better than anything. Maybe find some food that had been left behind and some water for the other male to drink. Anything that would bring him out of the episode that he was facing. Helping him up, the cadet brought Arvon to the closest house that was still intact, sitting him down at a chair that was placed at presumably the dining room table. He was looking around in the kitchen for anything and managed to find a loaf of bread suitable for one person, and he sighed in thankfulness. Man, he really lucked out. Handing it to his new acquaintance, he then began his search for water, finding some stored in an icebox. The ice had apparently all melted away, but the jugs of water that were in there were still cool to the touch, and he brought one to the broken individual seating where Marco had placed him.

In a concerned manner, Marco rested his hand yet again on the other's shoulder, hoping that he would be eating and drinking to give himself sustenance. He looked pale and... Not well.

[Arvon Lawler]

H-Hey-! Arvon assumed he had said. The world around him had hushed; the thumping of his heart and heaving breaths were all that was heard. His skin began to tingle, feeling every hair on his body stand on end. The droplets of perspiration burned like lava however he was too lost to wipe the irritating sting away. His vision began to mangle, distorting the images he already couldn’t process. If eyes could change color to one’s emotions it would be like watching rain water dilute in earth, it’s beautiful azure form tainted to a dull brown. Arvon could feel the floor beneath him giving way; cracking away like Wall Maria had five years ago as the Colossal Titan destroyed humanity peaceful ignorance. Perhaps it was better to just give up? The suffering would most definitely stop if he did. He was not needed here. Even the people he saved, he felt as if he had done a great disservice returning them to this chaotic land. There was nothing we humans could do to stop them. We were weak. They were strong. I… I am weak… He told himself, shame bubbling.


Before he could dwell further, an alien sensation rippled along his back and nestled gently on one shoulder. Suddenly he felt his body begin to rock. He blinked. Craning his head slowly he glanced at the abnormal object… it was a hand. Arvon then turned the other direction, following the trail that traveled behind him, meeting the source. He was at Marco’s face, his tender chocolate irises staring deep into Arvon, as if he was attempting to pull him out of the pool. It was such a pleasant image, one that even interrupted the rapid thrumming of his heart. If he had been more stable Arvon was sure he would be blushing. He had never been this close to someone before. Arvon had always been a very withdrawn soul, even as a child. He did not mind being alone before, because there was always something comforting to return to after the day was over. Now, contact was something he yearned for. Granted he had communications with plenty of people but they were never positive. Who could blame them? Look at the world we live in…


We need to get you out of here. Is that okay? Arvon’s hearing returned. He nodded in response, his blank gaze still prominent. Within a few moments he felt his body begin to flutter up. His first instinct was the scramble for his crutch however a part of him wished not to expose himself. Thankfully Marco was a huge help as well as supported his bad side so he hobbled along with the Cadet, entering safety. A few more steps and he was placed softy onto a chair. As he sat there, Marco began to scavenge through what was someone’s kitchen. He didn’t do it for long and turned toward Arvon, handing him a loaf of bread. Arvon looked at the offering like a child just introduced to new cooking, confused. Was Marco…? Before long the blonde cripple was staring at a jug of water and the pleasing connection encircled him again. His irises met with Marco’s, the wheels in Arvon’s brain beginning to wind. His chapped lips separated and he whispered sincerely. “T-Thank you. You didn’t have to…” His voice began to fade, turning back to the offerings.


Arvon grabbed the loaf, turning it in his hand, studying it almost expecting it to disappear. Was he dreaming? No, the feeling was unknown to him so it had to be real. He grabbed the other end of the bread and twisted it, tearing it in half. Turning back to Marco he offered. “Ple-Please… take it. I’m sure you are hungry as well.” It had been the longest sentence he’d spoken these last few minutes, however it felt like hours had passed. “Again, t-thank you Marco…”

[Marco Bott]

He wished that there was more he could possibly do for this poor, tortured soul. He was battered, worn and damaged beyond the point of recognition, though it wasn't like Marco knew what he was like before all of this had gone down. Arvon, from what he could tell, was a sweet and innocent person who didn't need all of this in his life, but this hellish reality was forced unto all of them... What a horrible, unfair fate that this was for the majority of them. Marco tried his best to not let it get to him, as he knew that there wan't a thing he could do to change it for the moment - he needed to keep his focus on getting past the cadet level of the military branches, but that nagging question came back into his mind - was the Military Police truly what he wanted? Thoughts like those were poison to him, but they continued to enter his brain without his consent; they made him feel so disgusting and inadequate at the end of the day... Marco might have been a generous and sweet soul, but that didn't mean he was devoid of troubles and internal struggles like anyone else dealing with this strand of reality.

He watched with relief as he saw Arvon was planning on eating the bread, tearing it apart in his feeble hands. What happened next was slightly shocking, but he tried his hardest to maintain his composure. Some of the loaf was being handed to him in offering, and he retaliated with a gentle smile. He honestly wished that the other male would eat the entire thing to keep his strength up, but he figured that this would be the only way he could convince the poor soul to eat - he graciously accepted the food, realizing that his stomach hadn't been too happy with him due to all of the efforts taken recently in regards to saving the left-behind lives.

Whatever stayed out of the mouths of the titans was his responsibility.

"You don't have to thank me." He spoke while he was sitting down across the small table, his gear clanking slightly against the wood. He silently wished that he could take all of it off, not wanting to deal with the heavy equipment any longer, but it was necessary for survival out in these wilds. "I saw you were in trouble, and I helped. I'm just glad you're okay." Okay physically was much different than being in an okay state of mind; Marco was aware of this, but he figured that he could just mention that aspect and the other would get the message. He brought the piece of bread up to his lips and took a bite, sighing as he chewed it up and tasted the wheat against his senses. It was comforting, almost reminding Marco of his home in Jinae... He silently wondered how his parents were faring knowing that he was out in these harsh scenarios.

"Arvon, how did you end up out here? Why didn't you go with the others farther into Wall Rose?" His voice was cautious, trying not to pry so much and send Arvon back into another attack, but he figured that this was information that was necessary to making sure he would remain alive and as well as he could possibly be. This individual needed a heap of attention right now, and Marco was more than willing to provide that if it meant keeping him safe. He didn't know how or why he had wound up where he did, but from what his own pair of eyes had seen, this boy knew how to do things that the soldier could never even dream of beginning to comprehend. Medical knowledge went above and beyond his level of comprehension, so he already held a considerable amount of admiration for this new-found acquaintance of his.

"Why.. Are you all by yourself out here?"

[Arvon Lawler]

The cripple smiled tenderly when Marco accepted the offering. He did not feel comfortable eating around one who did not join, especially when there was enough to share. Arvon gripped firmly onto the torn loaf and took a massive bite. His taste buds sang as the dough settled in his mouth, each passionate chew quickening. He then realized he was eating something and that was extremely pleasing to his three day empty stomach. His breath quickened and the ferocity of each tear grew. Before long his insides began to panic as the intake was too great and he coughed weakly in response, allowing the portions to properly digest. He reached for the mug and swallowed the exuberant liquid with the chill scraping his esophagus. Arvon hadn’t had a proper meal in many weeks. Granted who did in this age of famine and death. He received minor rations from the medical tent but there was very little to enjoy anyway. He had also lost his food a great many times to thieves, some of which were the very people that were supposed to protect him. As usual Arvon did little to fight back. It’s not like he could in his condition, especially since wolves always roamed in packs…

Placing the mug softly on the table between Marco and himself, making sure to gesture that his savior should partake as well, he disagreed wholeheartedly with the Cadets statement. You don’t have to thank me. Marco was the first person to concern himself with Arvon so his kindness would not go unrewarded. “N-no Marco, I do. Please I…” He stopped, losing his words quickly. Arvon could not concentrate. He continued to analyze Marco, as if seeing humanity for the first time. His demeanor was indescribable. His eyes were guiltless, compassionate, and temperate. As mentioned before, Marco may have been decorated with machines of war; it could not hide the soul. There was a playful purity when he sat across from Arvon, adjusting himself to the confines of the gear. The blonde boy cleared his throat, pulling his gaze away nervously as he noticed he had been staring. “Th-thank you a-again.”

I saw you were in trouble, and I helped. Arvon could not play coy in this situation. He knew he looked like a ghost unaware that he was long dead. He stared at his hands, covered in scars, dried blood, and dirt. Picking at his nails worriedly, he shook his blonde mop of hair, playing the lying game anyway. “I-I’m okay. J-Just a little s-shaken up is all. I had never tried a procedure like that before so…” His voice trailed, turning to the side to avoid Marco’s disbelieving gaze. It was better for Arvon to pretend that he was actually good at hiding his feelings and he was… most of the time. I’m just glad you okay. It was like hearing an alien language. Was he really glad…?

Arvon, how did you end up out here? Why didn’t you go with the other farther into Wall Rose? Those were excellent questions. The answer was he couldn’t. If he left his post he would be viewed as a traitor and coward, or at least that’s what he believed they would say. His duty was to the people in need and as far as he remembered, he was informed that the Titans were taken care of. Whether that was true or not was for him to find out. His survival was dependent on showing that he could whatever was necessary, even if he was a cripple… “I was helping the wounded. I… I work at a makeshift medical c-center. It’s set up a few y-yards from the wall.” That was the only explanation he could give. It was true and the only thing he could muster.

The next question struck a nerve. Why are you all by yourself? Because there was no one left. No one wanted him around. No one even knew who he was. He was a stranger in a strange land. He couldn’t go anyway to hide. Who would take him in?! Who would accept a cripple!? There was nothing left for him to do! He was nothing! He was just fodder! Food! Cattle! Arvon tensed, wishing he had grabbed the crutch after all. He wanted to run. That was only thing he could do. Hell he couldn’t even do that right! “I…I….umm…” He could feel his eyes burning again. His right hand latched to his curse, frustrated and ashamed. “Because I am…” He whispered, still unable to make eye contact with Marco. Damn it why did it say that? Now he just sounded like a pitiful… cripple.

[Marco Bott]

Marco was comforted that he was able to eat something, and he was doing so with vigor, causing the soldier to believe that it had been quite some time since the poor boy had anything to digest in his system. That would probably explain some of the fatigue and paleness that he sensed within his new acquaintance, but... There was definitely more going on here that he wasn't being told. That didn't hurt his feelings in the slightest, but more of concerned him. He wouldn't be able to help if he wasn't told the full story... But Marco wasn't about to be the one to pressure him into disclosing anything that he may have been uncomfortable saying. Perhaps the reason that Arvon was so concealing with what was truly happening had something to do with that crutch that he had noticed, as well as the way that he hid his leg from the cadet's gaze...

Maybe he was permanently damaged?

That would make sense, but Marco didn't see the shame in that whatsoever. Was that even something that a person would be so embarrassed about...? The trainee was simply ignorant on the subject, so he figured that maybe it would be best for him to stay silent on the matter. He didn't want Arvon to be scared or offended, and he certainly didn't want him to be upset any longer. Marco didn't like to see others down so low, simply because he wanted to help anyone that he could. He liked to see other people smile, laugh and be okay.

Worriedly, Marco watched as Arvon tried to come up with the reasoning behind as to why he was here all by his lonesome, but apparently it had struck something in him and caused an ignition that he wished could have been avoided. The features upon his face were beginning to change back into those of pain and scarring, the look in the boy's eyes painting an image that would be stuck within the soldier's memory for the rest of his days. It was truly incredible just how much the titan's reign could change a person for the absolute worst... It made Marco sick to his stomach to think about it in great detail, so he tried to avoid the topic in his mind for the majority of the time, but sometimes things simply couldn't be looked past. This was one of those times. Arvon was broken, and damaged, and nothing more than a heap of living scar tissue - the trained cadet simply had no idea how he was supposed to go about helping this boy.

But he wanted to. So badly.

"You.. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, Arvon." He suddenly piped in again, wanting to make him feel at ease and comfortable again. No matter what the issue was, Marco would be sure to accommodate to the situation and make absolutely sure that the other made it out of this situation alive and safe. He refused to even tempt with the possibility to leaving his new friend behind, and he would do anything in his power to maintain his well-being, if it could even be called that at this point.

"Shhh... Shhhh..." He got up slightly, leaning over to reach out, touching the boy's arm in an attempt to drag him out of the attack he was about to induce. "It's alright... Just breathe, yeah? It'll all be okay if you just breathe. That's good - you're doing great." He smiled while giving a few curt nods of encouragement. In the distance, he could hear the cries of people as they fought against the titans, trying to protect everyone that was still down in the hellish pits of Trost, tending to the wounded and attempting to make it out in one piece. It would be a miracle for some, but for Arvon, he was guaranteed a rise back into civilization because of his new acquaintance he had made today completely by chance.

"Whatever's wrong, I promise that it doesn't define you. You're better than that, I can tell already."