A techie and a reporter:

A/N: Hope you guys are enjoying my work so far, and I've been thinking of trying to tackle a new fandom. So let me know what you think. There's a poll on my profile, so you can decide my new project for the new year!

In the far reaches of the world, deep in a developing sector who had yet to develop the bare necessities such as running water and stable food, a ferocious war had broken out. Thousands of soldiers across the world started facing monsters hailing from afar. These horrible beings were known only as 'Titans', which took the form of naked deformed humans with horrifying expressions plastered over their faces with an unquenchable thirst for human blood and flesh. This horrid threat emerged without any warning, showing no hint to their origins or meaning. All that was known was how to kill them, and the undeniable need to do so.

Though for one young woman, sitting high up on the top floors of a city skyscraper, her concerns weren't set on fighting those horrible monsters, but rather on finding out the meaning behind the war's story. She'd developed a desire for the truth, ever since she'd began her career as a journalist. Some called it a death wish, others saw her drive for knowledge as 'inspiring to all'. Though for her, both were far from the truth. She constantly carried out her work, to try and find the truth behind the legends and stories for those who could not. Whether it was drug cartels, untouchable by bribed journalists, or unfair child labor that no-one else was interested in taking a second glance at.

That was her goal, it always had been ever since the start of her career. "Excuse me, Ms. Ral?" The woman heard one early Monday morning, derailing her fast-paced train of thought. Annoyed, she looked up from the dull glow of the monitor and swung her chair around to face the colleague standing beside her. A woman, in her early twenties with light grey hair and glasses was staring down at her.

"Yes?" She asked, not making an effort to hide the annoyance of her being snapped out of focus at such a pivotal moment in her research.

"The boss is asking for you in his office." She replied, a neutral expression on her face. The young journalist groaned in annoyance however as she could guess what he'd ask her about. Her boss was the admin Dot Pyxis, an old man in his forties with a strong dedication to both his work as a lead journalist and his liquor. Everyone around the office, including her, knew him as a drunk and a wild eccentric.

"Petra, you need to try and keep an open mind with Pyxis. You know how he can be." The other woman pleaded, still holding her clipboard full of administrative requests and queries. Probably hiding a soon-to-be-ignored order to bring him more booze.

All she could do was sigh softly in response. "Thanks for the advice Rico, I'll see you later at lunch." She said, before standing up and striding down to Pyxis' office. She'd known before starting that her line of work would be far from easy, but still couldn't appreciate an interruption from her boss every other day.

Petra walked into Pyxix's office, taking in a deep smell of vintage whiskey and another smell which she could only describe as ancient. Probably his old desk, as all the staff had kept complaining about it as he'd bought it from an antique store without washing it first. It had kept smelling like an old woman's living room. She walked up to him and took a seat while he stowed away another whiskey bottle, trying to hide one of the worst-kept secrets in all the city.

While he composed himself, she looked at her boss trying to guess from his expression what news he'd bring that day. Petra had always been good at reading people, it had always been one of her best tools for a story. Providing that her suspect actually displayed some kind of emotion. A face without feeling was like a blank sheet of paper: unreadable.

"Ah, Ms. Ral. I'm glad to see that you're still working hard on your lead." He said, though every syllable he spoke had a noticable slur to it.

"What do you want?" She asked, agitated. Normally, she'd try and be polite with other people but with Pyxis, it would take an eternity to reach the point if she did. It was just easier to be quick and clean.

Pyxis just sighed in response. "Good to see you haven't lost your charm." He said with both whiskey and sarcasm coating his voice. "I wanted you to know that you're scheduled for a little research trip."

"What research trip?" Petra asked, confused. The last time she'd checked her story didn't involve any special trips abroad, as the war against the Titans was strictly managed by the government to prevent mass panic.

"I've managed to email an old friend in the army who owes me a favor."

"Let me guess, Colonel Erwin?" She guessed, as Pyxis had already called for his help before. Honestly, she doesn't even know how many favors were due to him at that point.

"More or less. This trip will involve you going straight to the heart of Shiganshina." Hearing Pyxis' words Petra's heart dropped out her chest. She knew from her research that Shiganshina was completely infested with titans, being more or less their point of origin.

"What! You want to send me straight into a war zone full of monsters!" Petra shouted in fury, furious that he'd dare to send her straight into the fire. Putting her life against the apocalypse? She would do anything to get the truth, but if she ended up losing her life then no truth could even get close to the surface.

Pyxis put up his hand, attempting to calm the woman down. "Relax, I've already got you an elite escort. A mercenary coming along with the new camera-man."

"Why would I need a camera-man? I'm a journalist, not a reporter." She asked.

"The most convincing thing you can do out ther is show them what's happening. Actions speak louder than words. No offense, of course." He responded smiling.

"Fine, but if the guy holds me up he comes straight back." Petra said.

"Fair enough, make sure you finish your report by tomorrow."

"Fine." She said, walking back towards the door to leave.

"Remember Petra! You can't plan for the future with a head in the past's ass!" The man shouted back to her. Evident that his new brand of whiskey was clearly working on his liver. She instantly knew not to dwell on his words. As a drunk Pyxis was ov no use to anyone. That had been evident evef since he'd gained bleeding lips during an office christmas party.

(Long story short, never get drunk and attempt to flirt with a cactus.)

She walked back to her desk, to her oh-so-familiar monitor and pc. Although sitting at her desk was someone not so familiar. One of the newer interns, with a short green suit and a ridiculous hat. If the fashion police had existed, then he'd become suspect number one. But then she realized that the little bastard had taken a seat right at her desk. Before she could question what the hell he was doing, the man shot off outside the door and hurdled straight down the stairs.

"Security!" She called out, chasing after him. But before she could even reach the door a blonde-haired man, who despite looking about in the forties was really in his twenties, cut her off from the stairs.

"You shouldn't be so hostile kid, odds are he was just making a quick google search." He said arrogantly, purposely looking down on her like a piece of gum on his shoe.

"If that's the case then why's he running?!" She shouted, angrily trying to push past him angry.

"Calm down brat, odds are it's just one big misunderstanding, maybe if you focused more on the reason and less on the answers maybe you'd actually-" The man had been saying, before he ended up biting down on his tongue, cutting into an already apparent scar. It had become a habit of his, often trying to talk all high and mighty but halfway through ended up eating his own words. Literally.

Petra took the opportunity to run straight past him and down the stairs. She hurdled herself down each one, handling three at a time to try and catch the saboteur before he escaped. However she was 12 floors up, and he'd already gotten a head start. So by the time she reached the lobby he was gone, and Petra's face was covered with a layer of sweat. Defeated, and completely exhausted she called the elevator and waited by the doors panting.

She was still panting by the time the elevator arrived several minutes later. And she had to quickly shift to the side to avoid being trampled by the sea of reporters and journalists leaving for a story, or their next break. And as she stepped in Petra pushed in the one button she'd never placed her finger to during her entire career. The basement.

During her first week or so, she'd been curious as to what exactly lied beyond that floor. But eventually one of her co-workers told her that it was just the IT department, nothing special. So she had no reason to go in there. But now some scumbag, probably from another company, had been given complete access to her files. Or rather, stole complete access when her back was turned.

So then she had to ask the technicians, and hopefully, they would realise it wasn't her but rather someone else who had screwed up. Either way, the red-head still hated asking for help when she was just fine on her own. Eventually, the elevator came down to the basement and she stepped out into the deserted corridor, still panting from the run down the stairs. Only two doors stood beside her. One labeled 'do not enter' and another 'IT department'.

She stepped towards the door, moving to grasp her hand around the knob then twisting it to open the door, resulting in her gaze being cast into the room. The room was mostly coated in darkness, the only light being a dull glow from one of the monitors, a man sat in front of it with a controller in hand. Petra couldn't see his facial features properly so couldn't guess his age. She flicked the room lights on, causing a bright flash of white light to blind her for a second, before gazing back towards the man.

She could then see he was on one of the six monitors in the room and appeared to be playing call of duty. The room was filled with a sound of heavy metallic drilling that she could guess was gunfire coming from the machine's speakers. From the lights turning on he rotated his chair around and looked at Petra, enabling her to see his face. He had black styled hair along with his face placed in a permanent frown. But strangely enough beneath his brown jacket, he had... a cravat?