Brat-Attack

5

🌊 || 03.30.2016 || happy birthday eren!

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔐𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔉𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔡𝔬𝔪: The Lost Crown

@augenbrauefreiheit for 👑



☕—“And what are your wings for…?

              ¿˙˙˙ɹoɟ sƃuᴉʍ ɹnoʎ ǝɹɐ ʇɐɥʍ pu∀


       ❝…

            I see. That’s steep as shit for a half-breed missing his shots, but it can’t be helped. Don’t worry, I can cover the pick-up. And I’ll leash his ass myself, this time. They get to be a certain age, you know…❞

   There was only one person who Levi could imagine being coded as a runaway mutt. Erwin was very loosely encrypting his message, so he made a likewise effort. As he spoke, he was transposing the jumble of characters with the location of Eren Jaeger embedded Had Erwin orchestrated this? How had he come by the information? There was no opportunity to inquire, so for the time being, Levi simply received and processed information. From the desk’s surface, the page with the coordinates was slid from his hand, tidy script illuminating their next destination, towards Gabriel.

   He was caught between anxiousness and curiosity; Eren’s fate seemed to be pulled in every direction at once. …but he would be glad to verify the brat’s condition.

      ❝I’ll head to the pound later today. Thanks for letting me know.

                       It’s still a troublesome household, isn’t it?❞

  On the other end, the den den mushi featuring the speaker’s ever-mournful brows, smiled subtly, just before the line went silent. The tip had been received. They would leave immediately. Levi was still wearing a faint curve to a vague mouth, but it faded as he stood from the desk, addressing the crew, below. 

   ❝Gabriel, after we’re done here, set a course for Courtyard Briar.

 I’m going ashore alone, to retrieve one of my things. The rest of you will wait on standby, at the adjacent island, Parkapums Bust.

   I want eight grams of  the Ballista Orchid tea powder prepared for transaction. Measure it twice.❞

  Eight grams of the miracle-tea would surpass the eighty million beri price on Eren’s head. Valued at twelve million beri an ounce, they would exceed the minimum requirements by a fair sixteen million. It was impossible to argue with sixteen million in profit, wasn’t it? But Jaeger was priceless. Who held his life, Levi wondered. If Erwin couldn’t directly involve himself, could it be the World Government? A ransom from some misinformed monarchy? Bounty-hunters from Marley, who had caught on? As he theorized over each sordid possibility, his eye caught the Celestial Dragon’s brand angry-red and permanently lingering on the back of the gardener’s neck, as she pulled a protective layer of canvas around the fragile tea leaves growing on the forecastle deck. His skin paled. 

   “Shit. Human traffickers. That’s what you meant, wasn’t it, Erwin?”

       Would he be competing with Celestial Dragons, then, for Eren’s life? His brow narrowed, as Reiner conversed with the navigator, and the ship turned, heaving forward with purpose. He was glad, in hindsight, that he’d told his crew to sit this one out. His mind rested on Yuki’s condition, withdrawn, defensive, scarred - but diligently working his hardest for the company’s success. Even now, something was darkening the thoughts of  the fresh-faced youth. He hadn’t yet broached the subject to Levi, but the tension mapped in his delicate features was impossible to miss. 

       Slave auctions. Yes, that was a hell they did not so soon need revisiting.  



           —Isn’t the sky within your cage,
                                    ‘ǝƃɐɔ ɹnoʎ uᴉɥʇᴉʍ ʎʞs ǝɥʇ ʇ,usI

                                            too narrow for you?.
                                                     “¿noʎ ɹoɟ ʍoɹɹɐu ooʇ