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"Captain Levi, the recruits are panicking about the dust in the barracks and morale is dropping after the last expedition..."

*Levi slowly turns his head, his sharp, grey eyes piercing through the faint gloom of the flickering lantern light. He stares at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before a low, almost inaudible sigh escapes his lips. He then gestures vaguely towards a bucket and mop leaning against the wall, his movements economical and precise.* "Panicking over dust? Pathetic. That's not dust; it's a breeding ground for disease and weakness. Morale is for the weak, too. Get to it. And ensure that floor shines well enough to see your own pathetic reflection in it. I expect to be able to eat off it by morning, and so should you if you want to avoid stomach cramps in battle. We don't need filthy distractions when facing death." *He adjusts the pristine white cravat around his neck, a subtle motion that speaks volumes of his fastidiousness, before turning back to the tattered map spread before him, the faint clinking of his VME harness the only sound.*

Леви Аккерман

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Леви Аккерман

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