solutioning | Omake: Levi vs. Erwin, just a couple of cool bros hanging out

Omake: Levi vs. Erwin, just a couple of cool bros hanging out

The clouds covered the moon, and so it was an exceptionally dark night, and bitterly cold. The worst of the storm had passed. Only flurries cut the air now and all around the Survey Corps' castle there ringed a sumptuous silence ushered in by the deepening snow. The golden light of Erwin's window was the only jewel peeping amidst the walls; with the exception of the night watch, everyone else was asleep.

Against the cold and the draft an enormous fire crackled in the hearth. No other lights burned here in Erwin's office. The books and papers had been cleared away to make room, upon the hearth-side table, for an antique chessboard figured with inlay and bearing beautifully-carved stone pieces, and as well for a pair of glasses and bottle of rare old wine with dust still clinging to its shoulders.

Erwin poured a little into Levi's cup and his own. It was a red wine so deep it was almost black, revealing itself only by glinting darkly in the received light of the fire, and redolent with a fine tannic fragrance. There were three more bottles in his desk: a surprise gift from Pixis' second-in-command. Erwin could think of no better use for it than this, nor anyone more preferable to share it with.

As he placed his pawn forward he glanced at Levi by way of acknowledging his opponent. More than one game had begun.

((It's an omake I can impose winter on a show that appears to have none.))

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Though the scene was picturesque in its warm comfort, with both the setting and the company, there was a prickly edge to Levi's nature that could never fully vacate itself. It was also his nurture, in part. There was still enough of his older self left -- the young man that had clawed and fought and bled his way to not only survive, but thrive, in the capitol's seedy underbelly. That lingering shadow would forever reject the stuffy pastimes he once thought had been reserved for indolent nobles.

Fine wine and chess versus stale beer and dice; the cultural dichotomy was apparent, but a game was still a game. In terms of pure strategy, Levi would not pretend he was a match for Erwin. However, on the invisible board that balanced between them, there were many more pieces at his disposal. It was there that Levi needed to gain his advantage.

But first, the libation. With little ceremony, he swirled the glass once and took a quick taste. He was no connoisseur, but the word coarse came to mind. Most importantly, it was quaffable, and Levi gave Erwin a brief toast before taking a full sip.

"Not bad," he said. "Considering it came from the garrison."

He then pushed his queen pawn, more or less expecting Erwin to do the same.

((can vary greatly in quality and is more often "stout" than "fine." but always p drinkable. a soldier's wine. good call captain!))

The toast was answered in kind and with a nod so serious it seemed ironic. "Pixis keeps a good cellar," Erwin agreed blandly.

As anticipated he answered Levi's move with his queen's pawn. Since the 104th came around there was very seldom this sort of luxurious, lengthy peace and its prescriptive opportunity for leisure. It had been a long while since he'd played with Levi. So early in the game, he had a pleasantly empty mind, and held no expectations; the pleasure in this phase was the discovery.

He liked this sort of game as the wholly frank conversation of minds. Levi was ordinarily so laconic, but he had always something to say in his strategy. If he had not grown up with the game, as Erwin had, he took to it with the same swift, thrilling apprehension that marked all his other works within the Corps. Erwin took a certain satisfaction in how hard he had to work now to keep his captain at bay on the board.

He rested his shoulders against the back of his armchair, picked up his glass, and held it under his nose for a moment. This was not a gesture of expertise but simple interest. A thick-smelling wine, ripe, heavy as port but not so sweet. Rough on the tongue when he sipped it, but smooth going down. He'd have to be careful with something so easy to drink.

Levi had not been taught chess as a child, but he'd played it competitively for longer than a decade. When he'd sought wealthier opponents to gamble with, it was almost always the game of choice, though the enterprise never proved to be a great source of income. He lost often early on, relying too heavily on reckless offensives, but he improved sharply over time.

His style became less aggressive and more efficient. Rather than relying heavily on specific, extended predictions, Levi's greatest strength came from his keen spacial intuition. He could read the board well, and had an excellent sense of the positions where his pieces would do the most damage. He could be ruthlessly calculating when the need arose, but of course these initial moves were a feeling out process.

Still, if Erwin wanted control at the center of the board, then he would be in for a struggle. Levi moved his king side knight and sniffed at the commander's reply.

"So good it's overflowing."

Such arbitrary generosity made him suspicious.

Edited (trimming) 2013-11-12 11:55 (UTC)

Levi's watchfulness -- in the early years of their acquaintance Erwin had thought about success in terms of bringing Levi to trust and relief, to assure him that his vigilance was no longer necessary. With time he had come to grasp it as an inherent part of his second-in-command's character. Levi appeared to find it unnecessary to monitor him; that was all the success that mattered.

Without very much delay Erwin put forward another pawn, opting for more open play in the near future rather than immediate redress. He had a thought, specific to Levi's nature and provoked by the knight, about providing a defensive line too pretty to ignore.

A long swallow from his glass, then, in a mellow tone, "Anka. She worries about him. A good second." There was something sweet and secluded in the way he said it, as if it cost him nothing to praise Pixis' people. "And he likes a strong hand."

For this he couldn't help but smile a little. He kept a finger to the pulse of the Garrison and the Military Police; the latter he did not have much use for, but Pixis and his bracing pragmatism had to him the comfortable, sturdy feeling of good tack. His eccentricities were entertaining. Erwin wondered, not for the first time, whether Levi noticed such things and simply didn't comment on them out of disinterest, or whether he never saw them at all.

It was some of both. There were plenty of useless drunks in the Military Police, but Levi could silently tolerate or ignore a variety of eccentricities if the man behind them was capable in the areas that mattered. Pixis qualified, and he had little opinion on him beyond that.

More interesting to Levi, presently, was Erwin's rate of consumption. He took a matching gulp, then shifted in his seat and recrossed his feet. Erwin had an obvious leg up when it came to total mass, and Levi's tolerance was not at its strongest. However, that was not enough cause to slow him down. Logically, he ought to allow Erwin to out-drink him, but what was the fun in that? It took a lot to impair Levi's focus, and he was willing to see his commander glass for glass.

Erwin's last comment earned him a turn of the eye, but only for a second before Levi glanced back toward the board. He assumed Pixis preferred a strong handle, but that was probably the joke. Levi took Erwin's queen's pawn and leaned back. Too pretty a defense, indeed.

"I've always thought you might prefer a doting woman."

Not only was this false, but his reply was entirely offhand and thus rather unprovoking.

Edited (yep it sure is "queen's pawn." see this is why kuro > din) 2013-11-14 11:43 (UTC)

With a twist of his wrist he took Levi's pawn and opened up his pretty wall to expose a whole catalog of future attacks from his queen and bishop.

For all that, Erwin was nevertheless provoked -- though in the sort of subdued, entertained way that he usually took Levi's bait. (He liked to be teased a little, the more so because almost nobody dared to except Levi. He liked what was revealed by teasing.) His smile turned a little warmer, a little more pleasant and personable.

"Really? I like selfish partners."

He was not above being provoking in return.

"Someone who takes what she wants. No hidden motivations, no guessing."

Actually this was not far from the truth. He let the quiet of the dark night fill up the room after his answer and did not yet return the question despite his interest. It was as if his concentration were wholly on the game.

The openness did grant Erwin substantial influence on the light squares. Levi considered developing his other knight, but decided instead to prepare a fianchetto, advancing his g-file pawn a single space. This would bolster his own strength on the light squares and snugly surround his king with power once he castled.

A soft sequence of crackles from the fireplace broke the silence, and Levi regarded his commander's softening expression. One corner of his lip curled — a rare, fleeting tick that revealed mild amusement.

"Just like the barmaids say," he replied. "Opposites must attract."

Levi ran a slow finger along the side of his glass. The edge felt rather warm, while the source of the heat danced on in the glowing refraction.

"But you do take."

Some things, of course, were simply more difficult to obtain.

The pronouncement deserved some room. Erwin considered it, and Levi, whose boundaries between game and gambit were not always in the places he expected even after all this time, and whose smiles were very seldom. He drew a deep breath; his chest lifted as he prepared to speak.

"A man who stands under a tree and collects the apples that fall isn't taking anything." The question had expanded in his thoughts. He rolled the stem of his glass between his thumb and forefinger, contemplative. "Even if he shakes the branches, he's merely hastening the inevitable. And if he planted the tree in the first place, even that inevitability belongs to him."

Another long swallow; then Erwin set down his glass and poured a little more for each of them. Only then did he bring his knight forward; bait for Levi's, promising swift movement into the midgame and its exchanges. He was continuing to mount his attack even as his opponent prepared his defense.

"Did you have something specific in mind, Levi?"

Levi accepted the analogy. He could argue that Erwin had a tendency to pick from trees whose growth and nurturing were well beyond his care, but in those cases, he often paid a more than fair price. Regardless, Levi would leave the symbol-laden retorts to him. His only response was to continue to match Erwin's drinking, and did so with another ample sip.

His next play didn't take long; as preordained, he moved his bishop so that its path of attack cut directly across the board. As for the question, if there was indeed something specific, his pause did not reflect the notion. Allowing the break to persist was a cheap psychological tactic, but if there stood more of an actual motivation, it was that issuing a risky challenge to Erwin Smith could not be done lightly.

"Even when I was learning this game," he said, "there were stakes. 'Free time' was even more of a fucking joke than it is here, but I like wagers when there aren't lives on the line. What about you?"

"On a soldier's salary?" Came the almost too-gentle reply, light as the snow laid in crisp falls upon the stone ledges of the windows.

He brought his king's knight forward. An obvious sort of move, functional. Without inspiration, it had an unsophisticated feel compared to the elegance of his opening. His face had become impassive and his single hand rested around the stem of his wineglass.

"There isn't much point in a wager when you already know the outcome."

Fighting words. The hint of a smile nearly returned to Levi's face as he gazed steadily across the table at Erwin. He took another swig of wine, this time unprompted, finding it as drinkable as ever. When he castled, it was with one hand and one motion; the stone pieces clacked together softly as they rolled between his fingers.

"So we don't involve our shitty pay." He paused. "But if that's how you feel, then why not resign now?"

Levi felt confident. He figured himself well-defensed, and whatever Erwin was planning for his grand attack, it could be dealt with. At the very least, he would be able to mitigate his opponent's mustering of power in what would likely prove to be an active and bloody midgame.

At this Erwin chuckled, a dry, warm, extremely uncommon sound. He smiled often, but laughed almost never. Perhaps as an acknowledgement of a joke; perhaps, too, he was laughing at a pretentious statement.

"What more could I ask of you? You're already captain. You like chores."

He was quite relaxed as he held Levi's gaze, though even Erwin's relaxation was straight-shouldered and drawn-bellied. When he looked down at the board the corner of his mouth ticked up before he brought his bishop forward -- arguably in a manner underdeveloped -- to make room for castling. The whole thing gave off a perfunctory air, like a man who had figured out the whole thing so far in advance that he was only going through the motions now. Or one whose condescension was unwarranted.

Whether the condescension was or wasn't unwarranted, it was effective all the same.

"So as soon as money's off the table, you're dreaming up ways to punish me. What am I supposed to think of that?"

A bit of a leap, but the implication was there: if Levi lost the wager, and the result was something he potentially enjoyed, then what was the point? That element appeared to matter more than Erwin himself reaping a benefit.

Levi took so little time to move his queen's knight that an onlooker might have guessed they were playing blitz. Erwin had no obligation to follow at a similar pace, but he might play along in hopes of coaxing out a blunder in the flurry of their next several moves. Conversely, he could move slowly with the idea of tempting Levi into making a poor, overly bold play in hopes of accelerating the action.

Neither swiftly nor slowly, Erwin castled, and in a rather amateur fashion, as he was not -- had not been -- left-handed. It was simply the next move. It would have happened no matter what Levi did.

Benevolently, he replied, "That's how wagers usually go, don't they? Well, then you tell me: what's your bet?"

And if Levi were not too far in his cups he would see, in Erwin's cool, serious blue eyes, an uncommonly sharp attention; a focus to make the hair on the back of anyone's neck stand on end. This was no idle conversation.

Levi could still see quite well, and Erwin's degree of focus was palpable in both the standing of hair and the rising in his chest. He swiped his queen's bishop across the board, again moving rapidly. Then he drank, draining his glass as visions of the game's progression appeared in slivers. It lead to serviceable position, and no lurking dangers he could ascertain.

"How about yours?" he said. "Since you still won't let me have the Ape Titan's head, I'd take the second best one I can think of."

Crude, but it could have been worse. For instance, he left out any reference to a forsaken backroom in the castle that desperately needed a selfish touch; but, as much as Levi would have liked to throw that particular word back at Erwin, all the wine in Pixis' cellar couldn't loosen his tongue to such extremity.

A cold flash masked by a gentle smile. Erwin advanced his bishop, bolstering his hold on the quarter and developing what was becoming, however slowly, an extremely direct assault on Levi's queen.

As he refilled Levi's cup, he remarked, casual, "Really. Confident." Tellingly he raised no objections. "I would only ask you for something very small."

The words hung in the air, solemn and aureate, couched in his round, sound, clear voice. The snowfall was general and persistent beyond the windows, enfolding all the world in hushed and splendid whiteness. Erwin was wearing that creepy smile again. He was thinking about the dirty bit. The untidy part of the tidy captain. The booty.

Edited (...........gentle mile.....) 2013-11-23 22:39 (UTC)

Not that Erwin needed reminding, but his captain's specialty was cutting down much larger foes — bringing them to their knees, as it were. And though his targets were generally more dimwitted, that unsettling smile wouldn't look out of place on the face of a titan.

"Sounds fair. But…" He hesitated uncharacteristically, either for emphasis or because he was being picky with his words (and attempting not to the slur them). "I hope you won't be too crushed by the result."

Big things could come in small packages, after all. Now Levi needed to bring his focus back to the board before his thoughts settled into free-flowing spurts of uninspired adages and less related pleasures. The game required his full attention, because things were about to get messy. Levi took with his queen's pawn, twirling the captured piece in his hand before setting it aside.

Less elegantly but no less forcefully, Erwin took the offending pawn with his bishop. There were stakes now, big stakes, girthy stakes, mouthwatering steaks. He was no longer playing for entertainment but edification and his scientific curiosity would not be satisfied with anything less than a thorough probing of Levi's depths.

He was not unaware of the magnitude of what he asked, or asked for. Gently he fondled the rim of his glass with his tongue and then sipped the dregs.

"And I," He murmured thoughtfully, "Hope your eyes aren't bigger than your stomach."

Levi threw back another gulp, unconcerned. Next in line was Erwin's knight; he erased it from the board with his advanced bishop, all but forcing an appearance from the black queen.

"Worry about what's going down your own throat."

His banter was devolving quickly, but he'd never had much of a talent for subtle speech. The weightiness of the outcome was growing ever thicker, and Levi's casual posture became more unconsciously erect. If he was certain of one thing, it was that he had no chance of thrusting himself to victory by any soft, limp means.

"Worry more about putting it there." He sounded very jolly about it for all that. Indeed the queen made her appearance, beating Levi's little white bishop from the board, and granting Erwin quite the spread upon which to directly assault his opponent's holiest of holies. He was justly famous for this stuff; all through the barracks, among all the players, one might have heard from anyone that Erwin played a fearsome queen.

More wine. At least he thought it was more. Was it more? The bottle was empty. He watched the last drip roll wetly from its tip and licked his lips. Collecting bottle number two from his desk, he twisted off the top (it was, after all, wine from Pixis' cellar) and freshened everyone's cups. Levi proved to be as formidable a drinking partner as chess player; indeed, he seemed impossible to satiate, and Erwin worried for a moment about his own stamina, and whether he would be able to keep it up long enough to provide satisfaction.

"Why?" he said. "I've already got you licking your chops."

Even without being privy to accounts of his play, that Erwin would be specifically adept at manipulating the strongest weapon in his arsenal came as no surprise. The thought made Levi's brow furrow, though at least he could pass the look off as a bout of deep positional pondering.

The commander's queen did have plenty of room to move, but there was one spot it was no longer protecting. The last pawn at the board's center fell as Levi swung in with his queen's knight. This allowed the black queen even more mobility, which was concerning; there was at least one tight, vulnerable place where Erwin could stick his most powerful piece. Levi was all but inviting him there.

So he drank. Levi drank to the stationary life and service of his b-file pawn. Revenge — a dish often best served cold — would be hot and meaty on this night.

"I'm just reminded," The edges of the words were only very slightly slurred. "Of how much I like peanuts."

There it was. An irresistible little capture. Erwin could hardly wait to overtake Levi's pawn with his big guns, even if it meant dropping his queen into the dangerous heat of Levi's back row. Hazardous, to go so deep so quickly. They'd barely gotten warmed up.

Drink had made him loose and hasty. If it was a trick on Levi's part, then he was ready to fall for it; it wouldn't be the first time that his captain had pinned him and taken what he wanted, and, Erwin confessed to himself, there was always something thrilling about his lust to dominate the board, something exciting about feeling himself overtaken. It was part of Levi's charm, that magnificent tactical brain of his. How such a small body could contain such a overdeveloped organ was quite beyond Erwin's tipsy comprehension.

Edited 2013-11-30 03:37 (UTC)

The time for tricks had passed. All that remained: Erwin, the board, and Levi's desire. His knight was well surrounded by black pieces and did not seem long for this world; why not allow it to penetrate deeper into the bowls of enemy territory? Levi saw no better alternative, so the knight jumped again, pressuring Erwin's rook while preparing an exchange for his bishop.

"I heard a story once about a drunk man who choked on a peanut," he said slowly. His voice carried a slight, bizarre menace. "He didn't use his teeth."

It was no cautionary tale — just vulgarity for its own simple sake. Erwin was far too skilled with his mouth to ever asphyxiate himself so pathetically. From intimate experience, Levi knew this quite well.

Occasionally Erwin forgot where Levi was from; this sort of headlong dive into the nasty and weird was a refreshing reminder. He could almost smell the sewers still.

A little more wine went into cups, somehow. He was quiet for a long moment. Finally he leaned over and murmured, "Levi, I'm not going to choke on your dick."

Sedately he brought a rook around to menace Levi's queen. It wasn't his style to be vulgar; however, he was not above trolling. His voice dropped half an octave and, soft as a bedroom whisper, he finished with, "Do you like it with teeth?"

As Erwin posed his query, Levi was in mid-guzzle. With no outward reaction, he swallowed and set his cup down while a sharp snap came from the fire, not unlike the clack of a jaw.

"Try it." His voice was low but clear. "I bet your successor wouldn't ask the same stupid fucking question."

Levi slid his threatened piece out of the rook's path and into the attacking sphere of the black queen. The two tall, sculpted ladies stood in close and weighty proximity, looking polished, elegant and deadly.

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Omake: Levi vs. Erwin, just a couple of cool bros hanging out

hopefully no real wine people ever read this

haha it's cool levi was basically spot on as i was thinking of egri bikavér, a hungarian red which

lucky call captain. and does it get boring being flawless or

'is it boring trying to keep up,' he asks. no, it is not.

not boring at all, i agree

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chess lingo ooooooooverload

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you asked for this

i almost feel sorry. almost.

so like not at all basically

^_______^;;

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erwin slide over. wow.

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sewer people love the rough bjs. and play the mad chess.