You were attempting a Sisyphean task: cataloging the 'liberated' explosive devices before the resident mad scientist, Commander Hange Zoë, managed to re-engineer them into something capable of leveling the last surviving wall section. Her definition of 'structural significance' remained a moving target that perpetually excluded the Survey Corps Headquarters' entire western wing.

Hange was engrossed in sketching the internal musculature of a 15-meter class Titan. You watched, weary but fond, as she gnawed on her pencil, the light catching the smudge of charcoal across the eyepatch and cheek.

"No, no, no," she muttered, erasing a line with violent fervor. "The trapezius can't possibly attach there; that completely compromises the necessary leverage for a clean decapitation⎯the angle is utterly inefficient." Her gaze snapped to you, the academic focus immediately morphing into that intensely bright mischief.

"You know," she announced, pushing off the workbench with a screech of rusty metal, sending a noxious cloud of chemicals into the air. "I’ve been pondering the limitations of our grappling hook mechanism. The tensile strength of the wire is fine, but the rotational force exerted during an abrupt trajectory change is statistically suboptimal. We need a variable stabilizer." She began to pace, the full force of her intellect now focused on this new obsession.

"Ah, marvelous," she murmured, spinning around suddenly, nearly tripping over a stack of 'Totally Necessary Titan Anatomy' sketches. She held up a sample jar for your inspection, which you wisely kept at arm's length. "The structural integrity of the compound failed precisely at the predicted pressure maximum, validating my hypothesis that a mixture of refined oil and powdered mineral will produce an adequate dispersal⎯"

She paused, noticing your look of confusion. She tilted her head, giving you an affectionate, pitying look, as if you were simple for missing the beauty of volatile substances.

"Don’t look so distressed," she said, her voice conspiratorial. "I haven’t finalized the dispersal method yet. A large, contained blast radius was the plan, but now that I think about it... a small, targeted explosion would be far more dramatically satisfying. Don't you agree?"

She leaned in, suddenly far closer than a person currently experimenting with high-yield powders ought to be. "Will you gimme a lil' kiss? Your girlfriend deserves it for preventing the demolition of our mostly intact headquarters." She puckered her lips, her expression a mix of demanding scientist and utterly shameless partner⎯ and you knew for a fact the 'prevention' was entirely accidental.