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[color=D39104][sub][i]Training Grounds | 122nd Trainee Corps | Inside Wall Maria[/i][/sub][/color]

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[color=Silver]	As the well-spoken boy raised his voice, breathing out a freshness of confidence to the Cadet Corps, Maurer couldn't help but feel a smile grow upon his face. It wasn't one of admiration nor of appreciation but one of mockery. There was a real nerve to speak up, more so to express disgraceful disdain towards the Instructor's methods, all the while being on the first meeting. Any other Head Instructor would hand him a douse of righteous authority: the back of his palm or clench of a fist slamming into their gut. Maurer, however, was composed, intrigued by the podium of opportunity Charles hadn't given himself. A strength had been found, but an openly exploitable one. He had an adviser's voice, one of reason to question the staunch leadership that seemed to unfairly portray them as useless. Unfortunately, the boy was unlikely aware of the true situation he was in, what environment he had to adjust to. It was an experience he was going to learn, one way or the other. Maurer wasn't going to be the one to tell him his position in the military. Instead, he wanted to craft a way for his peers to do it for him.

	With his denouncement of his acts, describing it as that of a bully, Maurer stood back and frowned upon him with a sense of pity. No longer did he seem amused by his challenge nor did he seem threatened, only disappointed by looks alone. A minute of silence passed, where he stared at him with mute judgement.[/color]

[color=D39104][b]"So you're upset, Cadet? You're upset because I am a brute, a bully and, all things considered, a [i]braggart[/i]?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Nothing more than a heartbeat passed when the brash youngster spoke out once again.[/color]

[color=15706B][b]"You're god damn right, Sir."[/b][/color] [color=Silver][i]The nerve of some.[/i] His position was solidified, he was no troublemaker, but a child of change and difference by heart. There was nothing he could do in the moment that would change that, Maurer luckily had all the time in the world to go about it. At the end of it all, Maurer wasn't going to be a concern of his if he graduated. [i]If...[/i][/color]

[color=D39104][b]"I'm amazed by your willingness to admit to your weaknesses, Cadet. You've simultaneously shown that your sensitivity is a bit...unhinged. We aren't here to pamper you, or babysit you. At the end of it all, you're joining to serve a strict purpose, to fight, live and die for humanity against a threat you can barely comprehend."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]The Head Instructor leaned closer, lowering his voice for the first time to that of a mumble. Those beside Charles could hear, but anyone beyond were left in the dust to his whisper.[/color] [color=D39104][b]"The Titans won't care if you're upset. And if they won't, why should I? I'm going to be the least of your worries."[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	Even with his conclusive language, he knew that either the boy would continue or fall back into line. The latter was simply a failure to stand for what he believed in. The former was instead leaving himself vulnerable to the scheme of training. He was tough, Maurer would give him that, by heart, but it wouldn't be likely that he'd be strongly linked in camaraderie. If he wanted to succeed, it wouldn't be handed on a glory-filled platter coated in gold dust and sprinkles of honour. It would be fed to him with a spoon of fire, a fork of agony and cut up by the knives of anguish. No soldier beneath his command would be prepared for the world ahead of them if they got what they wanted. The world wasn't about desires, only needs. Maurer may not have wanted to hurt his cadets beyond repair but he wanted to make warriors that would shine ahead of time's limitations. Names would be remembered not by virtue of riches and nobility but by the blades they held and the people they saved.[/color]

[color=15706B][b]“I know that, sir. I just think there should be more honourable methods. I have prepared myself to be here, in the corps, for a very long time. Why spit on us? How will that inspire anyone?”[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	He was still speaking? Well, at least he was somewhat consistent with who he was as a person. The mutters of other cadets questioning whether or not the instructor would snap or if he would crumble the Cadet into dust. They were naive, just as was Charles. There was nothing to see, not from Maurer's hands. Instead the job of discipline would be left to the natural incursions of his fellow man. The hounds of hell were held on a loose chain, and Maurer had given the leash to Charles to struggle with.[/color]

[color=D39104][b]"I spit on you so you won't feel the pressure of the world when it drowns you in its saliva. Honour is earned, not given. Men and women like me have gone through unimaginable things to prepare you for the Corps. You're preparation is nothing but pompous playtime."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]He finally stood back, raising his voice once more so that the rest of the Cadet Corps could hear his heralding. There was only one suitable punishment for Charles, and that was no punishment at all.[/color] [color=D39104][b]"Cadet, please point to five cadets of your choosing."[/b][/color]

[color=15706B][b]"Sir?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]He questioned.[/color]

[color=D39104][b]"I want you to point to five other cadets in this formation. We'll stand here as long as it takes for you to do so."[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]Charles’ eyes widened, though for some reason maintained his posture in front of the instructor. His brows narrowed shortly afterward before he took a look at the cadets around him before glaring back at Maurer. [/color]

[color=15706B][b]"This is a diversion tactic. But, whatever."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]He muttered, before pointing to five other men in the line, some of which Maurer had already had interacted with.[/color] [color=15706B][b]"Those five. Are you happy, [i]sir?[/i]"[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	Maurer nodded with compliance, finally satisfied that he'd managed to follow the most basic of orders given yet. The boy's fingers pointed to five specific men. Though unknown to him, Maurer mentally identified them from his own registration. The first Cadet was the boy [b]Roger[/b], the one who'd been picked on first by the Head Instructor's shakedown. Following on, there were four other boys, all handpicked from Charles' selection. The second was a nomadic boy just down the line, a blonde haired, hazel-eyed wanderer named [b]Grant Valente[/b]. Silently, his throat tightened up as he felt the finger fall upon him. The following boys were the aforementioned [b]Ezra Taffer[/b], [b]Miles Rockbell[/b] and [b]Gabriel Moreau[/b], all five of which had no real recollection of who Charles was, as far as Maurer knew. It was a perfect selection, some who'd already tasted the spite of his tongue and those who were yet to receive any sort of grilling to begin with. Unknowingly, Charles had given out a strict hammer of injustice.[/color]

[color=D39104][b]"So, Cadets Martirou, Valente, Taffer, Rockbell and Moreau? Alright. When we conclude today's meeting and I fall you out of formation, you boys will be going on a three hour march and jog around the training grounds, including the forests."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Though he loved the build-up the most, the execution was where the satisfaction came from. He turned back to Charles, nodding in conclusion to their avid back and forth with one another.[/color] [color=D39104][b]"Fortunately for you, Cadet, you will be dismissed along with everyone else and will not join them. Thank you."[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	And with that, Maurer finally left Charles' view, he moved further down the line, restraining the temptation to smile again at the decision. Going down the line was rather uneventful, his mark had been made on many of the faceless 'Rogers' who came into contact with him. Many went back to cookie-cutter answers. All [i]'Yes, Sir'[/i] this and [i]'Become a soldier'[/i] that. It didn't silence them all though, those who tried to act smug still got the usual scorning from his sharp tongue.

	Eventually, he reached one of the victims to Charles' trial of intense exercise. Grant. He looked stiff in his face, unwilling to show any sort of emotion in the face of his superior. It was a difficult task, one Grant was screaming at himself from within at. He didn't like what was going on and was still in shock over his damnation for the following three hours, yet he was still unprepared for the mettle that stood before him. A glare of authority rested upon him. The eyes of the behemoth ridiculed his stance, his looks, his voice that was yet to be spoken and his commitment to the cause. Unknown to Grant was that Maurer already knew who he was. He knew who every cadet actually was, their names and their ages. And simply by the happenings of an uncommon surname, it was pieced together that Grant had a relative within the Scouting Regiment. He didn't say anything in the moment. Grant couldn't even imagine him knowing it. No one knew Maurer like the instructors did, and many didn't even know what his military background was. Those versed in the recent histories of the Scouting Legion could figure out his previous position, and those who could were few in numbers.

	Grant knew nothing of Maurer, and whilst the truth about a certain relative were shrouded in confusion, mystery, unreliability and deceit, one could only suspect to keep a close eye on the successor to his ways. Maurer looked closely at the boy, shaking his head. Even without words, already he had caused a trainwreck of anxiety in Grant's tightened gut.[/color]

[color=D39104][b]"I've seen dead horses with more life in them. Raggedy, insecure? Could I go on about you're little presentation here?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Before Grant could answer, he jumped straight into continuing, preparing his usual question.[/color] [color=D39104][b]"Tell me why the hell you're here? Something to prove? Someone to chase after? Someone to love?"[/b][/color]

[color=08A2C4][b]"No, Sir. I'm here to join the Military."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Despite his anxiety, Grant quickly uttered out his answer with a clear voice and moderate tone, holding his eyes directly forward and refusing to make eye contact for the sake of his sanity. Maurer looked both accepting and displeased with his answer. He knew that Grant was worried about the upcoming march given to him, questioning whether or not he'd survive the first hour, let alone the three total. He didn't settle into blaming Charles, not yet at least. Instead, Maurer shook his head and walked onward. And somehow, that hurt more than him saying anything at all.[/color]

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