Subject: "Last one to the food table has to drink the weird green punch!"
Posted on: 2018-10-29 20:28:03 UTC

Two boys dressed as Scouts a la Attack on Titan went barreling through the crowd. Nine-year-old Henry Robinson was taller and skinnier than his ten-year-old friend, Ian Thomas Horowitz, and he used that to his advantage in order to slip between people, even if they were really standing too close together.

"'Scuse me! Pardon me! Coming through!" he called out, grinning. He was Eren Jaeger. He was flying through the air with his ODM gear, swinging through the narrow city streets, ready to whip out his sword and slice into anything that got in his way!

He didn't have a real sword, of course, and he wasn't planning to hit anybody with his pretend one—he would be SO dead if his mom found out—but that wasn't the point. The point was he was free and fast and unstoppable.

Until something, or rather someone, caught his eye and he skidded to a stop. He backed up a few steps and looked up—and up, and up some more—at the giant man in what he was pretty sure was a dragonrider's flight jacket. "Whoa," he said. He looked back the way he'd come, found his friend in the crowd, and called to him. "Ian! Hey, Ian! Come over here!"

Ian caught up, puffing a little with the effort of going around groups Henry had simply gone through. "Dangit, you're too fast," he complained. "What?"

"Do you see this guy?" Henry gestured. He was pretty sure they were far enough away not to be noticed gawking.

"Whoa," Ian echoed. Then he grinned. "Is he a Titan? Do we hafta go for the nape?"

(( I think Ian was technically adopted at some point, but then nothing ever came of it and I don't remember who adopted him, so I'm borrowing him again. If that person turns up and wants to take over, I'm all for it! ))

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