Who: Mikasa and OPEN What: Discovering the ocean Where: One of the docks. When: July 13, around noon. Rating: No warnings so far.
Mikasa was used to structure. Drills. Cleaning gear. Duties. Whistles. Commanding officers telling her when and what and where. It wasn't that she liked having her entire day, and the broader scope of her life, structured by someone else, though she wasn't rebellious against it, either. She had just grown so accustomed to it that waking up without a revelry and eating somewhere other than a mess hall or a hastily constructed fire pit in the wilds had left her feeling off balance.
She'd woken up with the sun by habit, though, and found herself with an entire day of freedom. And a small voice inside her head, a small pair of voices that sounded suspiciously like Armin and Eren crouched over their precious book in days long past, had planted the idea of exploration. So that was what Mikasa had done. Impassively, casually, she'd explored, walking with the slight clank produced by her 3D maneuver gear—she wasn't leaving it when any moment might produce a titan, or something equally as horrifying, despite the assurances of the town's civilian leaders.
Until she'd come to the shipping port, and the water.
The long, unending expanse of water, going right to the horizon line. It was.... what had Armin called it? An "ocean". Mikasa's face went a little slack in awe, and she just stared. And stared. And stared. She wasn't even the one who'd wanted to see it, particularly, but they had. She owed Armin and Eren this awe; she owed it to them to look and memorize every detail, even if she would not describe it so deeply or with so much of a sense of immensity, when she saw them again. But they were not here to react to it, and Mikasa felt a strange sense that she should, at least a little, do it for them. For a good ten minutes, now, she had been standing at the edge of one of the wooden docks, just looking out at this impossible, long-imagined thing.