It is dark, and the moonlight glazes the fields surrounding the monumental fortress. Titans usually do not appear at such an time. A watch must still be kept however, and their collective shift shall be done two hours after sunrise.
The commanding officer, a brash man in his mid-thirties lit his cigarette in the brazier, seemingly immune to the heat of the flames as he stuck his hand into the cage of burning logs.
“So,” he started, “I don’t think many of you know each other, so I’ll just do what my school teacher did when I was in the fourth grade.” He rubbed his chin, prickly without being shaved overnight. “I’ll go first, then the person to my right. I am Sergeant Steven Gurrick, I’ve been serving for ten years, and I like my beer warm, when I can get it.” He looked over to his right, seeing a brown haired boy, staring intently at the fire. He was chuckling quietly, almost a whisper. Although nobody else seemed to be informed that there was a joke. The Sergeant pulled out a list of the squad, and found the description that matched the kid. “Private Helion, it’s your turn.”
“Oh? Okay then.” He took a quick breath in, and surveyed the group. ”My name is Argus Helion, I like telling jokes, no matter how bad, and I prefer to see things a bit more positive than most, kind of like a magnet that is much larger on the attractive side. Also, I like being good-looking!” He stuck a sarcastic pose to imitate a mannequin in a dress shop window, hoping to get a laugh. He turned to his right as well. “How about you, you’re not one of those people that hate everything are you?” his small jest was accompanied with a chuckle.
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