Eric Coulter Imagines

Surprises

Eric Coulter isn't usually the type to be surprised. He figured that out for himself after he decided to come to Dauntless, after he chose to win every single fight that came his way. He's been leading initiation for a few years now, and he's yet to find a single trainee that actually makes him question himself. They're all the same, aren't they? They all think they're the greatest thing to ever hit the city, they all get destroyed by training just to build themselves back up again. The same thing happens every year, and Eric has seen it all.

Still, when he stands listlessly on the edge of the Dauntless roofline waiting for the next trainload of potential initiates to arrive, he feels something he hasn't felt in a long time. It hits him in the span of half a second, when he begins to focus on the figures leaping from the quickly approaching train cars and sees a flash of yellow, Amity yellow. Eric isn't the kind of person to get surprised by the initiates, or at least he didn't think he was. Maybe he was wrong.

Eric is used to keeping up appearances. So, despite the fact that he is tempted to drop all pretense and just stare at the girl currently dusting gravel and small pieces of rock from the torn knees of her- yes, Amity yellow- pants and shirt, he doesn't. That makes him a little better than the other trainees, at least. Their jaws practically dropped when she first stepped off the train, and they watch her now as she strides briskly through the crowd to reach Eric like the rest.

Despite the fact that he's kind of fascinated by this (an Amity showing up to Dauntless? Has the world ended?) Eric still has a role to play. So, by the time the other trainees manage to make it over to him, he's had enough time to hide his surprise away behind folded arms and shoulders thrust back in a classic display of confidence. Eric knows exactly what the new initiates are seeing: a Dauntless leader a few years older than them, someone who looks like he could kill them a dozen times over without breaking a sweat. They're not wrong, and he's proud of it. That just adds to the aura.

This is why Eric is able to keep his back straight and expression unbothered, despite the fact that his eyes want to keep returning to that one spark of yellow in the midst of all this black and white and blue. Usually, most Dauntless initiates were either born in the faction or came from Candor, maybe even Erudite, but Amity is practically unheard of. In fact, Eric doesn't even know that he's seen a single Amity go through training in the entire time he's been here.

Eric clears his throat once he's garnered a substantial audience, and addresses the upturned faces. He can tell by the fact that the trainees keep eyeing the gap in the roofline behind him that more than a couple of these guys are afraid of heights, which makes him smirk a little. It's always fun to watch the cowards jump, they tend to scream at hilarious intervals.

"I'm Eric, I'll be one of your initiation leaders. If you want to be a part of Dauntless, this is the way in." Eric pauses from his relentless stare across the trainees to gesture towards the expanse of nothingness behind him. He knows that there's a net at the bottom, that this little stunt is no more threatening than a quick game of hopscotch, but the initiates don't. In fact, he's not even sure that the Dauntless-born are aware of this, which makes the first step of training all the more fun.

When he's greeted by nothing more than blank stares, Eric claps his hands together, silently delighting in the way it makes more than a couple initiates flinch. "Alright, don't all go at once. Who's going to be first?" There are the usual murmurs and declarations that this is absurd, but despite all this, someone steps forward. At first, Eric sees nothing more than a brief shock of movement as the initiate attempts to push through the crowd of trainees, and then he realizes who it is. The Amity girl, come once again to surprise him.

She hovers by the roof, then climbs up onto the edge near Eric. She glances down one last time, then leans forward into the fall. Although Eric's seen enough kids jump that this part usually doesn't intrigue him anymore, he can't help but break his usual pattern and glance over to watch her as she goes. She looks almost like the few ancient paintings Eric has seen in old class textbooks- the Renaissance-era ones of angels and ethereal spirits. The Amity girl almost seems to hang there in the air, arms falling slightly to her sides as she plummets. The yellow cloth of her apparel catches at the wind, and Eric has the foolish thought that she looks like a match dropped down the dark opening until she fades from view and he can see her no longer.