"...Believe me, Blondie. I couldn't give less fucks about humanity's survival and all that..."
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If given the right circumstances, everybody can be a killer. But if given the chance, everyone can be a hero...
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~ 20 ~
"Trust has to be earned, and should come only after the passage of time." ~Arthur Ashe
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Two years after the trainees entered the Cadet Corps, both Shadis and Charlie were required to write a few comments on how the trainees were doing.
This was solely for the three regiments to read over, and see who might be interesting for them to recruit. No one ever read that.
All the military police cared about was who the ten best trainees were.
The survey corps took...anyone who is stupid enough to join them.
And the garrison took the rest.
When Charlie handed Shadis her sheets of paper she unwillingly wrote, he only read over them with squinted eyes.
"Your hand writing is terrible, Ackerman."
"Why excuse me, I didn't really have the best resources to learn writing and reading in the Underground." Charlie rolled her eyes, waiting for Shadis to approve of her work.
"Fair enough." Shadis grumbled, his eyes flying over the paper.
He started to compare her opinions to his own notes.
Shadis: Reiner Braun. A strong soldier, physically and mentally. And trusted by his comrades.
Charlie: Braun. Has a staring problem. Good form and strong. Probably a cross between an animal and a human. Doesn't seem too smart.
Shadis rolled his eyes in annoyance but kept reading.
Shadis: Armin Arlert. While lacking in physical strength, he demonstrated an extraordinary aptitude for his studies.
Charlie: Arlert. Cute little blonde mop. Sucks ass at anything regarding killing Titans. Is smart though, but asks too many questions.
Shadis: Annie Leonhart. Her strike form is flawless, but she works poorly with others and tends to isolate herself.
Charlie: Leonhart. Good form. Good strength. Quiet, passive aggressive, secretive Blondie. Loner. Might bite if provoked.
Shadis: Bertholt Hoover. He has great potential, but lacks initiative.
Charlie: Hoover. Average. Taller than a tree, quieter than a corpse. Weird name.
The older instructor led out an almost aggravated sigh, running his hand over his forehead. He just continued reading.
