red bands for schachmeister

[heartmuscle]

[ on the list of weird places ann had been? this place was definitely at the top and quickly becoming her most disliked.

being whisked away to some weird, undisclosed location, and being told they needed to have sex or there'd be consequences? it was bad. it sounded like an adult's weird porno. she'd spent the first half of her time here trying to get out, to figure out who was behind all this, or to at least get a message out to her friends.

when all of these options failed, well. she didn't exactly give up, but she told the band that was counting down days on her arm that she wasn't going to do what it wanted her to. there would be consequences? then bring on the consequences. she wasn't afraid of anything they could throw at her.

(she was, of course, afraid of what they could throw at her, but she wasn't about to give up. akira and ryuji would have never let her down, so she couldn't either).

so, when she woke up in a fancy hotel room, she at first had the thought that maybe she'd been sent home or something.

then she realized the band was still on her arm, flashing, and she was dressed in some weird lingerie - a fancy bra and panties, and a red slip of a dress that was barely a dress. ]

Oh, you've got to be kidding me. [ she groaned, crossing her arms across the low cut shirt and looking around. ]

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[schachmeister]

[Once, when he was much younger, his grandfather had told him a story of a boy who had found a magic jar full of wishes. But what had seemed like a grand find at first, had soon revealed its darker side when each wish came true -- just not in the way the boy had intended. It was supposed to be a moral tale, something about working for what you want, rather than just wishing.

Right now, Armin is feeling rather like the boy with the jar. He had, of course, wished for a world free of Titans. Hadn't everybody, at least once? But what he hadn't meant was to end up in this strange world where they were no Titans, to be true, but there was just as little freedom. A world in which a small device hung from his wrist like a shackle, occasionally beeping and flashing, and making him do... things.

Things that Armin had dreamed of, sure. But not like this. Not like this at all.

When he opens his eyes, he's not where he was before. He is in this new room, an extravagant, over-the-top thing that he is sure doesn't even exist in the richest palace in his world. There is a carpet so soft and plush, it puts every bed he's ever had to shame. There is a bed so enormous that it looks like it was meant to sleep an entire family. There is a girl, dressed in so little that--

Wait. Crap. There is a girl.]

Ah, uhm, I'm sorry. I didn't mean--

[He reflexively puts up his hands, backing away a step towards a non-existent exit, his cheeks a little flushed, his eyes very firmly trained on an elegant chair and not on the girl and her little slip of a dress that bares far too much for anyone to be seeing.

In all the commotion, he hasn't even noticed his own clothes have changed too. Gone is his uniform (or what he was allowed to keep in this world, at least) replaced by a navy blue suit that must have cost more than every piece of clothing he has ever owned put together and then some.]