[ for someone who’s lived quite less than the seraph, eren has seen more broken, mangled bodies than one may have in a single human life time (technically, he’s lived through the memories of three other than himself). he won’t start counting them on his claws, but there’s something distinct that he attempts to achieve at the pull of mikleo’s empathy: he detaches himself from involvement with the phantoms, the best way he could from their suffering, forming an emotional pillar for him and his bonded to remain sturdy against.
it’s not as if he doesn’t feel for their pain, or worry for it— he does. eren was a good man, with good intentions, but he has a growing sense of priority that funnels into objectivity. it could cloud his judgement when he can’t afford it. there’s . . . a call. a call that says if you want to save them, you must— before he can’t quite make out the rest. ]
We’re not. If we could figure out what happened— [ eren hisses and jolts, his turn a sluggish slip that accompanies a flurry of bubbles to see one of the weeping shadows drag at one of his tail spines from the ground, their grip withered and agonizing, as if moaning please. is it them, or were they all beginning to come toward them?
the water’s pressure felt heavier, and the blackness of the ghosts spread like ink. ]
no subject
it’s not as if he doesn’t feel for their pain, or worry for it— he does. eren was a good man, with good intentions, but he has a growing sense of priority that funnels into objectivity. it could cloud his judgement when he can’t afford it. there’s . . . a call. a call that says if you want to save them, you must— before he can’t quite make out the rest. ]
We’re not. If we could figure out what happened— [ eren hisses and jolts, his turn a sluggish slip that accompanies a flurry of bubbles to see one of the weeping shadows drag at one of his tail spines from the ground, their grip withered and agonizing, as if moaning please. is it them, or were they all beginning to come toward them?
the water’s pressure felt heavier, and the blackness of the ghosts spread like ink. ]