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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 23, 2010 22:52:24 GMT -5
"Use it...?" the Prussian repeated in a surprised tone. The castle was obviously falling apart, but just looking around it, Gilbert had to admit, he liked it. There were plenty of windows, but enough rooms without them that he'd have somewhere to hide out if it got to be too much. There was very little in the house he'd want to keep back in his own manner; only the music room held anything of value to him. He closed his eyes briefly, an image of himself and Roderich moving from room to room as they cleaned up and repaired things dancing before his eyes. When he opened them, the image disappeared, but a small smile graced his lips.
"It's a nice home," he admitted quietly. "Lots of cleaning... but I'm sure we could do it. Maybe hire a few people to help out, or something. A castle out here... it'd be nice. Not overrun with people. It's something awesome to think about." It would take a lot of work, of that Gilbert was certain, but seeing the castle in it's once former glory was a tempting appeal. It was big enough that they could help weary travelers who happened upon them, though it's large size did seem a little much for two people. Yet, a the same time, the adventures that would likely come with taking it back intrigued the Prussian greatly. "We'll talk about it in the morning, ja?"
Shifting closer, Gilbert settled himself by Roderich's head, ears and eyes both alert for any signs of sound or movement. He doubted that anything else would attack them now that the old master of the house was dead, but he wasn't willing to risk the brunette's well being again. The window's were far enough away that they wouldn't cause problems, and Gilbert remained completely still in that spot, on his eyes moving to switch between Roderich's sleeping form and the fire until morning came.
I bet he's exhausted... Gilbert thought, brushing a gentle hand through Roderich's hair. After yesterday... Heh. I bet he does need a shitload of beauty sleep. But it's good to see those bags disappearing finally. Bored and stiff from a night without movement, the Prussian carefully stood up and began shuffling around in his bag of food. Roderich didn't seem as if he was going to move for a while longer, which meant he could put together a quick breakfast for the musician to enjoy when he woke up.
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 23, 2010 23:43:08 GMT -5
Roderich awoke that morning with a groan, nose tickled by the smell of cooking meat filtering through the air. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes and stared at Gilbert. The other man was bent over the fireplace with what looked like a frying pan, meat sizzling over the fire. On a desk near his makeshift bed sat a plate, already covered with a small assortment of fruits and cheeses. "How many times," he chided sleepily, "Do I need to tell you not to do this for me? I'm perfectly capable of making my own breakfast."
With another groan, he forced himself out of bed, wincing at the skin that pulled over his back. It felt much better than yesterday, but it still tugged a bit. There would likely be faint scars from those creatures, but from the feel alone, they would heal without complication. I'll be back in a moment." Letting the tattered remains of his memory guide him, he ventured outside the castle, blinking in the bright sunlight. The rain seemed to have passed, leaving the courtyard muddy; Roderich's lips twisted in disgust as the mud squished over his boots as he made his way to the covered well he vaguely remembered within the walls, near the squat buildings that had been the servants' quarters. On his way, he nearly stumbled over a pile of bones that, to judge from the lack of grime and dirt covering them, had been animate until just recently. Hopefully, that was a sign that the undead that had infested the castle were destroyed.
Though the castle had obviously fallen into disrepair, the well remained tightly covered. With a frown, Roderich unlatched the wooden cover's rusted hinges with some difficulty and threw it to the side before lowering the bucket into the water... or at least, he hoped there was still water in it. With a soft plunk, he heard the bucket plunge into water, and with a satisfied smile, he drew it up again. Wetting a handkerchief with the water, he wiped his face and stared at his own reflection in the rippling water. His hair was getting a bit too long, he mused, fingering the ragged edges of his brunette locks with a wry smile.
His back protested unhappily as he picked up the bucket and struggled to bring it inside, depositing it beside the fireplace. Without giving Gilbert the time to question, he disappeared again, this time searching for the kitchen. There was no food within the dusty kitchen, as was to be expected, but there was an old teapot shoved into a cabinet. Carefully running a finger along the inside, Roderich smiled as it came away clean.
Carrying his trophy back to the study, he began to pour water in it with his hands before hanging it from an iron bar over the fireplace. Reaching into his knapsack, his heart sank as his fingers brushed the bundle of cloth containing his violin and old clothes, but a smile returned to his face as he pulled out a small bag from the bottom and smelled it. "Tea leaves," he explained to the other man with satisfaction. "Much easier to carry than coffee beans." A small flask of lemon juice and a bag of sugar accompanied the leaves.
His mood had greatly improved from the other night; though he still questioned his mission, it had been pushed into the back of his mind in hopes for this day. Whatever would come, would come... just the idea that Gilbert had agreed to stay with him if he chose to work on the castle had buoyed his spirits a bit. There were so many books here, so much to research... this would keep him occupied for a short while, until they had to return to the city for lack of food, if nothing else. With a wince, he remembered the corpse in the basement, but forced himself past it. If nothing else, he resigned himself to the idea of removing the body himself and burning it.
That wasn't a bad idea, he mused thoughtfully, tugging at his slightly-ragged hair absently. Then Gilbert would be able to accompany him in his investigations into the books downstairs. Voicing his thought to the other, he smiled he picked up a slice of cheese and bit into it. [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 24, 2010 7:03:25 GMT -5
"Should you really be carrying a body in your condition?" Gilbert asked quietly, picking up one of the slices of cheese to nibble absently at the corner. "No offense, I doubt you could pick up anyone his size, even if your back wasn't hurt." As tempting as the thought of getting rid of Roderich's father's body was, going back into the basement was one of the last things the Prussian wanted to do. It was still coated in blood, and the smell of it was going to end up driving him mad. However, the thought of Roderich being forced to carry the corpse up was even less tempting, and he found himself quickly caving to the brunette's idea.
"I can take care of him and the basement..." the albino muttered softly, finishing his slice of cheese with a thick gulp. "I need to get used to the smell of human blood, anyway." He looked away, poking absently at the fire with a metal rod that had been leaning against the wall. "I mean, if I'm going to be gracing you with my awesome, it would be a pain in the ass to lose control of myself every time you got a damn scrape." In truth, the Prussian had agreed because, somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt as if he were getting a twisted form of revenge for his "father". Frederick had been a good man, kind and loving, and didn't deserve the fate he'd fallen to.
The sweet aroma of Roderich's tea was starting to overpower the faded scent of the breakfast he'd made, and a sense of calmness fell over him. While the basement itself wasn't tempting, finding the answers to all the mysteries it held was. He would have never imagined how tightly his and Roderich's pasts were intertwined, but now that he knew how close Frederick had been with the Edelstein family, he found the curiosity the Austrian had been displayed earlier beginning to plague his own thoughts. "You can help with the burning if it'll make you feel better--you need to vent some of those frustrations of yours--but I'm carrying it. Deal?"
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 24, 2010 12:13:57 GMT -5
"I could manage it," Roderich defended himself, lips twisting into an almost-pout for a moment before his expression saddened. "Part of me wants to give him a decent burial... as much as I wish he weren't, he is still my Vater... Teeth gritting, he added, "But he doesn't deserve it. I want to burn the body and scatter the ashes to the wind."
With a sigh, he pulled down his sleeve to cover his hand and briskly pulled the teapot from the fire, hearing it start to boil. Pouring it in the cup with a few of the tea leaves, he brought it to his lips and inhaled its calming scent. With some regret, he noted that he didn't have a saucer for the small cup, and was almost tempted to go back to the kitchen to find one. Settling for pushing aside some of the food, he set the cup on the plate and exhaled heavily. "I could just move all those books from downstairs and seal off the room completely. It's not like it's the kind of thing that's convenient to use," he nodded toward the secret passage with a small smile. "I don't want to have to hike down there every time I want something to read. I don't think I could." With a pause, he added softly, "It would be a fitting tomb for him, all alone, with no one to come pay their respects."
Glancing at the man beside him, he picked up his cup and smiled over the rim. "However, it is not only my decision. That man has wronged you... possibly worse than he's wronged me. I leave the decision to you." His lips quirked in slight, knowing amusement at the protest that he could see forming on Gilbert's lips. "And that's an order." [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 24, 2010 13:07:55 GMT -5
"Wh... Damn you!" Gilbert growled in annoyance as his arguments were rendered invalid. Once and order was given, he had to follow, that was how the magic worked. Of course, he could refuse an order, he still had free-will, but he rather enjoyed following Roderich's commands and rarely went against them.
Shrugging, the albino stood up and made his way toward the door, peering out into the hall with a blank look. "If I had my way, I'd bring him back as a damn puppet and let his body be mangled in battle until no one could tell he'd been a human in his last life..." he turned, looking back at Roderich with a wry smile. "But... in the end, he was your father, and as much as I detest the bastard... I respect you, and won't do that. Even if it is an awesome idea." The Prussian pulled away from the door and sat back down beside Roderich, gazing at the fire. "Does that mean we're just going to move the books from downstairs up and then seal it off...? Or should we burn him down there and let the ashes sit?"
Leaving a body to decompose in the cement room wasn't appealing by any means. Even if Roderich could not, he would be able to smell it. Not to mention the bugs and animals that would likely work their way in to get to the flesh and bone. Burning was the preferred idea, but he wouldn't argue with anything that the brunette wanted. His idea of revenge was less than petty, and he knew it, thus, he kept the urge pushed away. Once the man in the basement as gone, Gilbert knew his temper would ease and he'd no longer have to worry about it.
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 24, 2010 23:46:14 GMT -5
Finishing his tea, Roderich regarded the fire for a moment before deciding. "Let's move the books and burn the body in the room." He stared at Gilbert levelly. "I trust burning it would remove the smell?"
With a wince, he stood and deposited the teacup atop the plate of half-eaten food, stretching his arms high above his head as he crossed the room. "That's going to be a lot of stairs," he muttered with some unhappiness, hanging his head a bit as he ventured toward the secret passage. With a sigh, he started down the stairs, trusting Gilbert to follow him. As he approached the doorway, the sharp iron tang of blood stung his own nose; he could only imagine what it was doing to the other man. "Stay here," he ordered sharply, pointing several meters back up the stairs. "And I shall bring the books to you."
Without looking to see if the Prussian had followed his command, Roderich ventured into the room, stomach turning at the sight of the corpse before he quickly looked away and ran his fingers along the spines of the many volumes of books. [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 25, 2010 7:04:23 GMT -5
"Yeah, the burning should help..." Gilbert mumbled, nodding as he stood up. "The room is stone, so the fire would burn itself out, anyway. We can just leave the smoke to go out through the fireplace I saw down there, it probably connects outside." He followed after Roderich, stopping with only a faintly annoyed look as he was ordered to wait. He did have SOME control, and he cared far too much about his "master" to let that control slip.
Waiting on the staircase, the Prussian began to pace the length of the step he stood on and huffed quietly as he waited for Roderich to reappear in the doorway. He could easily smell the blood from the hall, and it was doing little to help his bored mind. A quick glance up the stairs told him that the sunlight was finally starting to filter through the windows in the room above, and he opted that standing still and doing nothing was going to help them nowhere. "Sorry, Roddy. I follow orders, but this is ridiculous. Awesome doesn't need to be babied."
As he reached the bottom of the staircase, Gilbert turned into the basement room and winced. The strong scent of blood crashed into him with the force of a herd of monsters running toward their kill. He inhaled sharply, wincing as the iron-like scent slowly started to turn into something more appetizing with each passing second. His hand slowly withdrew under his cloak, pinching his side as hard as he could manage and sent a small wave of pain through his already tired body. Focus! he scolded, Don't lose yourself now. He needs help.
Making his way across the room, he grinned as he stopped beside Roderich, reaching for the various books on the shelves as he slowly began to stack them in his arms. "Sorry," he apologized in an overly friendly tone, clearly indicating that he was, in fact, not sorry at all that he'd ignored an order. "The hallway was boring. Made friends with one of the stairs, though. I named him 'Rod', after you, wasn't that awesome of me? He said I should ignore you and come help anyway." Contrary to the smile on his face, it was easy to tell the vampire was distracting himself from the all-too-easy meal lying in the middle of the floor. For the most part, it was working, and there wasn't much to worry about, but that didn't stop him from gripping the pile of books in his arms tighter than needed.
"Just hand me as many as you can. I could get them all up in three or four trips if you stack them nicely. Should I just take them to that study we were staying in?" As he spoke, Gilbert's eyes slowly shifted down to examine a bizarrely coloured stain on his cloak. Wincing, he noted that he really did need to find something else to wear, and it wasn't likely that the outfit he was wearing would last much longer. It had lasted him a good hundred years, and while he was disappointed to let go of something so comfortable, he noted that, in the end, it would likely be better in the long-run. I wonder if I could work up something nice like I did for him...
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 25, 2010 8:25:01 GMT -5
"Gilbert," with some exasperation, Roderich sighed and set a book atop the other man's pile. "Why is it you only listen when it's not important?" Violet eyes stared levelly at him, easily catching the other man's internal struggle painted in the lines on his face. With another sigh, he returned his attention to the shelves and began pulling the books haphazardly from the shelves and stacking them carefully atop the Prussian's pile. "Don't strain yourself overmuch," he scolded, using his sharp tone in an attempt to mask his concern for the other man as he stacked as much as he would allow Gilbert to carry before sending him back upstairs.
As the silver-haired Prussian started back up the stairs, Roderich pulled the books down faster than before, traveling back and forth to stack them at the foot of the stairs in an attempt to keep the him from entering the room again. In less time than he would have assumed, the room was emptied of all but a few books and a stack of parchment. Roderich clutched the latter in his arms and stared blankly at the empty room, staring blankly as a few stray scraps of blank parchment drifted through the air.
Turning away with some difficulty, Roderich slowly made his way up the stairs and deposited his (considerably smaller than Gilbert's) pile of books near the other piles littering the study's floor. Haltingly, he opened his knapsack and removed his torn coat stained with now-dried blood and ventured back down, entering the room for the final time. Unfolding the coat, he took a shallow breath and closed his eyes.
Vater...
Kneeling down, he carefully draped the coat over the dead man's crumpled body as a makeshift shroud. He knelt there for a few moments, then forced himself to his feet and took one of the torches from the wall, walking back to the doorway where Gilbert stood. "Here," he said simply, offering the lit torch. "You need this more than I do." Taking Gilbert's hand in his, he wrapped the other man's cold fingers around the torch and stepped back. With one hand, he squeezed the other man's shoulder and nodded once. [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 25, 2010 10:50:50 GMT -5
Glancing at the torch in his hand, Gilbert sighed quietly and shook his head. Try as he might, it was difficult for him to understand Roderich at times, but he was grateful for the gesture. If anyone had the right to throw the torch, Gilbert felt that it was the brunette who deserved it. "As you wish," he murmured quietly, walking over to the corpse in the middle of the room. For a moment, he considered throwing the flames down as hard as he could, knowing with a faint satisfaction that he'd be able to successfully impale the wood through the deceased man's chest, but he ignored it. Crimson eyes flashed in hatred as he slowly lowered the flame, holding it in place until the coat ignited before dropping the torch on the man's chest.
Not waiting more than a few seconds, he turned away and quickly walked back over to Roderich, returning the gentle gesture of hand to shoulder. "...We should shut the door. The smell will come come up into the house and it'll take forever to make it go away. Burning flesh is disgusting." He pushed the brunette back slowly, kicking the door shut with his foot and urged the other toward the stairs. "...If you want to say something to him, I understand. I'm going back to the study to start cleaning up. If we're using that as homebase for a while, it needs to be a suitable living environment for a human."
With a quick glance at Roderich, Gilbert hurried up the stairs and entered the study where they had spent the night. The new piles of books only added to the mess, and the Prussian knew it would take a while to finish, even for him. He'd never liked cleaning, but he made a habit of it because it had pleased Frederick. Once the man had died, the cleaning habits had contracted to only that of the music room, kitchen, Frederick's room, and one of the guest bedrooms for emergencies (though he supposed now it was more appropriate to call it "Roderich's bedroom"). He sighed, tugging off his tattered cloak before setting to work.
It only took a few minutes for him to neatly pile the various books under a table at the far end of the room and place the various scrolls of parchment on top. Ripping his cravat in two, he tossed both pieces onto the desk and set about removing the rugs, planning to take them outside later for beating. After grabbing one of the two pieces of fabric he'd made, the Prussian set about dusting the room, carefully cleaning each piece of furniture he came across. Anything he found inside was cleaned as well then set back in place. Investigating would come later. "...I'm going to need a mop." He mused quietly, making a note to look for one as soon as he finished dusting. As long as he kept himself busy, he'd be able to keep his temper at bay. The man downstairs didn't deserve the fiery grave he'd been graced with, at least, not in Gilbert's opinion, but he knew better than to talk.
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 25, 2010 12:22:11 GMT -5
Roderich heard Gilbert go up the stairs as he stood before the door, knowing he should move but unable to bring himself to do it. Faint wisps of smoke drifted under the heavy stone door, only the barest sign of what was likely a raging inferno inside. It seemed only fitting that such a man be condemned to fire, he mused, adjusting his glasses above his nose and closing his eyes.
The incinerated corpse had been his father... he should say something over him, but no words came to his lips. There was nothing he could say to venerate this man who had lost his life for power. The remains of the castle seemed to suggest that he had lost his family as well. Perhaps... his mother had seen the monster his father had become, but in that case, why wasn't he brought with her? What had he been taught, as the now-dead man had claimed? And most importantly, what and why could he not remember?
A small piece of him wished that he had been able to speak to the other man, discover what had happened that had made him this way... but that was impossible. The rational, objective part of his mind reminded him that when they had come upon him in the basement, he'd been quite obviously out of his mind, had sent monsters to attack them. That was easy for the rational part of his mind. The larger part of him was faintly regretful, as though he'd squandered an opportunity.
Shaking his head, Roderich dismissed such thoughts from his mind and made his way up the stairs to the other room. A faint sense of hopefulness quickened his pace, and he emerged into the bright daylight streaming through the windows. "Gilbert..."
The other man's movements were brisk and purposeful, almost too smooth. Biting his bottom lip, Roderich turned and triggered the secret door shut, the stone sliding almost seamlessly back into place with a final thud. One eyebrow quirked in faint amusement at the other's efforts as he rolled his sleeves up to keep his new clothes from the filth. Wordlessly, as he passed over to the desk to pick of the other piece of cloth, he gently squeezed Gilbert's shoulder in silent comfort before starting to dust the other side of the room. [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 25, 2010 18:22:19 GMT -5
"...I can take care of the dusting," Gilbert muttered softly as he watched Roderich grabbed the second make-shift cloth he'd made. He appreciated the brunette's presence, and he hated the idea of sending him away, but the dusting was almost finished and he wanted to move on. "Could you go look in the kitchen or wherever you found that teapot for a mop? We're gonna need to get the floors cleaned. They're disgusting." He gestured to a particularly ugly-coloured stain a few feet to his left. "You're going to get sick if you keep sleeping with this shit lying around."
Tossing his cloth aside for the moment, Gilbert walked over to the large red carpet in the center of the room and began rolling it. It would be easier to carry and transfer outside this way, and once he finished with the larger, he moved to the two smaller ones placed under desks and repeated the movement. "I'll move the furniture and crap as needed once you get me a mop. Don't worry about water, I can get that. I don't need you carrying around heavy crap and ripping your back open again."
It wasn't meant to be an insult, but the Prussian still winced as if he'd made an unneeded one. Little noises and shifts in movement were making him jump violently, and her nerves were almost completely shot. His temper would flare every few seconds causing his hand to jerk his hand violently across the surface he was dusting with the cloth he'd reclaimed. The end result was cracking several of the glass-door cabinets and scrapping two of the desks. His fingers twitched around the cloth violently, making his hand tremble with the effort of trying to calm himself down. He killed the old man... and caused Roderich a shitload of unneeded grief... and stalks me to top it off! Dammit, I hope he burns in hell-!
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 25, 2010 18:59:11 GMT -5
Roderich's lips thinned as Gilbert snapped at him, dropping the cloth and standing. "I apologize for continuing to be a burden on you," he remarked coldly. "But I have given you every opportunity to leave." It would have been a childish, petty gesture to kick over the bucket of water near his foot left over from the morning's breakfast and demand he use the water he'd somehow managed to carry perfectly fine earlier, but he refrained from it and chose to simply snatch the cloth back up and stalk out of the room toward the kitchen.
Just to spite him, Roderich opened and slammed every cabinet door in the kitchen, looking for the biggest covered container he could find to fill with water. He couldn't even feel the pain in his back as he gritted his teeth and carried the large iron pot outside to fill with water from the well. "I've managed perfectly fine without you my entire life," he muttered angrily to himself, drawing water up from the well and pouring it into the pot. Letting the bucket drop back into the well, he strained to pull it up again, filling the pot as full as possible. "Why should I start needing you now?"
Part of him knew he was over-reacting, and the Prussian likely hadn't meant anything by it, but it felt good to release his anger. Bending down to lift the water-filled pot, he yelped slightly as he stood upright, a pained hiss escaping from between his lips as the movement tugged at one of the cuts on his back. Like hell he would admit that the Prussian was right though, and trusting in the tightly-wrapped bandages to stop the slow trickle of blood he suspected was seeping into the bandage, he huffed and struggled to return the pot to the study.
"I shall go find you a mop," he gritted out as he let the pot fall to the floor with a thunk and crossing his arms before leaving again. [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 26, 2010 6:35:16 GMT -5
Gilbert blinked, staring at the doorway of the room in shock as Roderich stormed out. The rag slipped from behind his fingers and something twisted painfully in his stomach. If it wasn't enough for him to violently find out history he didn't want to know about, now the only person he had to talk to was upset with him. "What... did I do?" he mumbled quietly, giving the floor hurt look. Dammit, what is with his temper all of a sudden!?
Growling, the Prussian tossed down his rag and stormed throughout the room, picking up the rolled carpets and carried them toward the front door. Mopping can wait... I'm taking care of the carpets first. Punching something will do me some good. he thought, forcing the main entryway open with a well-aimed kick. All I did was ask for a fucking mop and he has to explode at me! Young master through and through. The stuck up-! His thoughts only seemed to grow darker and darker with each time struck one of the carpets with the blunt end of his sword. How he had managed not to rip any of them in his lack of temper control, he didn't know, but the time he finished the third carpet, he was panting heavily and feeling just a bit better about the whole ordeal.
"...I should go apologize for whatever it was I did," he sighed, lifting the carpets back up into his arms after rolling them once more. "I just don't want him pissed off." While Gilbert stood strong in the fact that he had done nothing wrong, he was both too tired and hungry to stay anger with Roderich. He wasn't willing to risk the emotional control when he only living being in the area was likely the brunette himself.
"...Did you find the mop?" he asked softly when he re-entered the study. "I finished the carpets."
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 26, 2010 7:51:04 GMT -5
Roderich huffed as he dug a mop out from under a pile of miscellaneous cleaning supplies shoved in a kitchen closet, mentally adding the closet to the list of things that needed to be cleaned. He felt a slight sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he carried it back to the room, catching sight of Gilbert slamming the flat of his sword against the carpets from the window. As he watched, the silverette paused in his vicious beating with an expression of sadness mixed with frustration and deep anger, and Roderich felt a wave of pity sweep through him. He wasn't the only one suffering with the impromptu funeral for the man downstairs... reviewing what Gilbert had said, he winced in guilt that it had obviously been genuine concern that had motivated the other man's words, not an intentional insult.
He was just so tired of always being the one rescued. It seemed that ever since he'd met Gilbert and begun to rely on someone else, he'd made mistake after mistake, forcing the other man to constantly run to his save him. For years he'd managed to survive perfectly well on his own; what was it about Gilbert that made him relax his guard, that distracted him from the task in front of him? For once, he wanted to be the one the other man needed to save him, and not the other way around. He might have looked like an aristocrat, and hell, sometimes he even acted like one, but he would not be a burden on the other man.
With a start, he realized the other man had finished with the carpets, and he hurried to return to the study, mop in hand. "Gilbert--" Leaning the mop against the desk, he crossed his arms uncomfortably. "I found the mop," he muttered, a faint flush of an emotion he couldn't describe crossing his cheeks. "And I'm... sorry I snapped at you. I'm just... humans are not as fragile as you think we are. This contract works both ways, you know. You don't always need to worry about me."
----- orz Have to run to a meeting with my professor, so rushed reply is rushed.
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 26, 2010 11:16:11 GMT -5
Gilbert's gaze sharpened as he stared at Roderich, clearly not happy with having to talk with the other. He opened his mouth, ready to retort sharply with a snide remark for whatever the brunette had to say. His eyes, however, softened as the musician offered him an apology that he wasn't expecting. The anger swirling in his stomach evaporated in seconds, and he found himself sighing, shoulders slumped.
"...Don't apologize," he finally whispered, stepping forward to cup Roderich's cheek. "I haven't been acting right either. I..." The words trailed off as his mind wandered back in time, the words of Frederick echoing softly.
"Humans, while fragile, are among the strongest creatures on this planet. They hold the ability to change, to become better, no matter what happens. Yet, at the same time, they are also open to the lust and temptations and desires that people such as us are able to resist. Believe in them, Gilbert... In time, you may see that it is a human who will save you. It doesn't take physical strength or an amazing knowledge of magic to do that."
"...I'm sorry, Roderich. I, ah..." he paused, shifting uncomfortably as he tried to find the right words to speak. He wasn't good with sentimental things or being affectionate. Expressing his feelings was something he did rarely, and it still baffled him how it was Roderich who got them to bubble up each and every time. "I'm... not used to this. I've never had... anyone to care about like this before. I don't... know how to..." he stopped again, running a hand through his hair, only to succeed in making it messier. "...How to handle it. Yesterday on the stairs... and with your father... that monster from before... I could have lost you, and for whatever reason, that scares me shitless. I don't know why! It pisses me off because I don't understand... All I know is that... I don't want to see you hurt."
A blush had worked it's way onto Gilbert's cheeks yet again, and Gilbert quickly turned his gaze toward the floor to avoid letting him see the embarrassment. It was hard to tell which was hurt harder; pride or emotions, but regardless of what it was that triggered the (second) longest emotional rant of his life, he just prayed that Roderich wouldn't laugh or take it the wrong way again.
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