[It’s strange, after all this time, that her hair’s still so pink. Aubrey doesn’t plan on changing that, any time soon—much as it feels like she’s died and remade herself a thousand times since. The “ring,” and the gashlike mark trailing from it, has certainly stuck. So has the scar from that shadowy “titan,” Basil, whatever it was. And in the slightest test of this world’s voluntary permeability, Aubrey has decided, finally, to forego her contacts.

[The eyes that Reiner catches, then, are dark; clearer than ever, in a way. She’s only barely started to recognize this place; Bertholdt never said where his home was, nor was Aubrey paying close attention when he brought them here, but the gray skies and high rooftops stand out well enough. As does that armband, bound to the shadow-inhabitants like a shackle.]

[Reiner’s wearing one, too. Red as a brand—red as Bertholdt’s. ]

[The next thing she notices is that he looks so goddamn exhausted.]

Reiner. [A hushed recognition. He seems to know her, too.]

[Aubrey stands where he sees her, at the mouth of an alleyway. Her expression is wary, but not overly so. Just… cautious. For all intents and purposes he should be a stranger. And yet....]

Eren’s not here right now.
[And she damn hopes he won’t be, just for this.]