"...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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~ 23 ~
"The only person you are destined to become is the person you decide to be." ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
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The gravel crunched beneath their boots as Charlie and Pixis made their way toward the oversized mansion of Lord Wald. Two Garrison soldiers trailed behind, silent and stiff.
"So..." Pixis began, his tone casual. "Enjoying the change of pace? Escorting me to a noble's estate, not what you're used to, I imagine."
Charlie snorted. "No, not exactly. I'd be out there killing Titans right now if it wasn't for my foot."
Pixis chuckled, adjusting his hat. "But in the end it's all part of the job. What do they say; Politics and alcohol keep the world spinning."
"Is that what they say?" She huffed amused. "Which of both is worse?"
"Hm...Alcohol's honest. Politics? That'll stab you in the back with a handshake."
Charlie nodded. "How poetic." She said, looking up and down the huge house. "Do you think this guy has some super expensive booze or something?"
Pixis smirked. "If he does, we'll leave with a bottle each. Deal?"
Charlie shrugged, her expression softening just a bit. "Fine. But only if it's the good stuff."
Pixis chuckled again, the gates looming ahead. "You're my kind of soldier, Ackerman."
"Yeah, yeah." Charlie muttered, checking the position of her old and familiar little hand gun under her uniform.
Before they stepped inside, Charlie had to drink everything that was left of the whiskey in her flask first, though.
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"....Hey, are you paying attention?" Lord Wald muttered, moving one of his figures on the chess board before him. "...Look, I win again."
"I'm nice enough to play with you every month, but you never improve, Pixis." He smiled arrogantly.
The older man lifted a hand to his head, answering unbothered as always. "I'm still no match for you, friend."
The room was lit gradually, the scent of sweets and alcohol lingering in the air. Lord Wald sat at the chess table, his pudgy fingers moving pieces across the board.
Pixis sat opposite him, his face as unreadable as ever. He didn't seem to take the man in front of him all too serious.
Charlie stood a few steps behind Pixis seat, arms crossed, gripping the bottle of wine she'd been given upon entering. The absurd little bow around it mocked her mood.
