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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Apr 14, 2010 13:06:36 GMT -5
Roderich leaned forward slightly as Gilbert pressed his lips to his, but then all-too-soon, the Prussian had moved to the closet. With a soft smile, he touched his fingertips to his lips and ventured to the bed, looking down at his own clothes in disgust as he realized the sheer amount of blood -- his own blood -- coating his formerly pristine-white uniform.
Glancing back over his shoulder to make sure the Prussian was out of sight (it wouldn't be proper to undress in front of another, would it...?), Roderich carefully pulled off his jacket with the tips of his fingers and folded it carefully, stomach turning at the sight of the massive holes torn in it. He hadn't realized the extent of the damage he'd taken from the magic, and with trembling fingers as he untied his cravat and buttoned his shirt, he stared at the freshly-healed scars covering his body. He could almost have put his closed fist through the one in his stomach, several smaller holes peppering the skin with ragged edges. Letting his fingers trail up his abdomen, he laid one hand over his upper chest, just to the right of his heart, swallowing hard as he realized -- truly realized -- just how close to death he had come.
Digging his fingertips into his flesh, he shook his head roughly and pulled of the tattered remains of his shirt. The white button-down Gilbert had given him was slightly too large, hanging off his slender frame just enough to to be wrong. Checking again for Gilbert, he quickly changed into the black pants, noting that they fit much better than the shirt. "Gilbert, I'll wait for you in the kitchen," he mentioned, quickly leaving the room and making his way down the stairs into the kitchen.
Immediately, he saw the violin case set on the table, and everything else was instantly forgotten. Caressing the hard wood and gently opening the case, his fingers trembled in anticipation. [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Apr 15, 2010 11:23:29 GMT -5
Waiting until he heard the door shut as Roderich went downstairs, he quickly gathered together their bloodied clothes and headed down the hallway into a washroom. A faucet stuck out over a tub at the far end of the room. A pump connected to the piping was the only means of gathering water in the room, and several quick pumps later allowed the Prussian to dump their bloodied clothes into the water. A bottle resting on the shelf filled with powder was dumped inside, causing the water to turn a pale share of blue. Nodding to himself, the left the clothing to soak and started downstairs, making his way quickly toward the kitchen.
"Careful," he said in a low tone as he entered the kitchen. "Remember what you did to the door frame? You need to learn to control your strength before you get too excited and break it again. I don't have any more favours to pull with alchemists." He smiled lightly in an attempt to show he was joking, but stepped forward to claim the violin in his own hand none-the-less. "We're going up on the roof. It should be easy enough for you to jump up there now. I'll help you with you're training there."
Grinning, Gilbert ducked out of the kitchen and hurried outside, making his way toward the roof with ease. He stood at the center, eyes closed and enjoying the breeze. He could feel the magic swirling withing the instrument, but knew well that he couldn't cast the mana within. Still... he did miss it. A faint smile graced his lips as he brought the instrument to his chin and began to play.
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Apr 17, 2010 20:28:05 GMT -5
Reaching out too late, Roderich frowned, the only outward sign of the quick anger surging through him as Gilbert took the violin. His fingers were stilled as he forced himself to acknowledge the bitter truth of the other man's statement; before he could respond, the other man had already disappeared outside, leaving him alone in the kitchen.
Quick to follow, Roderich stared at the roof with disbelief. "You... expect me to jump up there?" he muttered unhappily. He'd never been that athletic, preferring to practice his magic rather than his physical strength (or lack thereof), but... Gilbert had said he could.
The muscles in his legs twitched with the barest memory of the pain he'd felt, fingers clenching as he remembered how easily he'd cracked the doorframe. Without looking away from the rooftop, he backed up several steps before dashing forward, feeling a welcome surge of power from his legs as he leapt into the air, fingers scrabbling for a hold against the edge of one of the many roofs. Grunting from the exertion, a wicked grin crossed Roderich's face as he sized up the next story, backing to the edge of his current position before jumping up again.
As he landed, he stumbled and nearly rolled over his head, catching himself at the last minute -- far from the planned dramatic landing he'd expected. Thankfully, Gilbert didn't seem to notice, or if he did was kind enough not to comment for now. Roderich's anger forgotten at his flight and near-fall, he stood across from the other man and crossed his arms as the other man started to play.
The bow rose and fell under his quick, almost jerky movements. It didn't look as though it should produce such a beautiful melody, but Roderich could feel his breath quicken in response to the music trembling through the air. He had almost forgotten, in all his travels with the Prussian, just how talented of a musician the other man was... after all, it had been his skill with the violin that had drawn them together in the first place.
A small smile to match Gilbert's own crossed his face at the sight of the concentration on the other man's face, his half-closed eyes and swaying motions -- this song seemed not so much as if it were to be played, but rather seemed to play its musician. Roderich's eyes sparkled as he took in each and every note, trying to commit it to memory but knowing that something this intense, this difficult, would take much more than one listen to learn.
Almost too soon, its notes trilled together into a frenzied finish, and Roderich's smile widened in genuine appreciation. Without a word, he extended his hand for the instrument, reluctant to call it his. That tune... there's immense magical potential within it... he thought to himself, keeping his gaze on the other man's, smile never leaving his face. It would be impossible for him to play for now... and what could he possibly play to compare to that?
His fingers caressed the wood, at once so familiar and yet so alien, the touch of two instruments, twin magics swirling together as one. He almost didn't know if he could play it well, especially after that performance. He doubted Gilbert could feel it, but the violin itself trembled in the wake of the music, the magic that had yearned to be released through that song but couldn't be controlled. He'd known Gilbert was a great musician, but...
The plaza... And with another small smile, Roderich thought it only fitting that the first song he played on this violin that Gilbert had given up so much for, the first song he played that would only be heard by Gilbert, be this [/u].[/sub][/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Apr 18, 2010 9:35:31 GMT -5
Gilbert hadn't said a word then the violin was taken from his hands; he merely smiled faintly and nodded, flexing his fingers as he tried to work out the odd stiffness that had fallen over. He hadn't touched a violin since the last time he'd played for Roderich when they first met so long ago and holding one again felt... odd. His wrist gave a small throb of protest, but the pain would die in a few minutes and it was very light in comparison to other things. "You'll get used to the jumping," he said quietly as he watched Roderich raise the instrument to play. "It took me a while to get the handle of it, but if you try hard enough, you might get as awesome as me."
Giving his wrist a final flick and nodding when it make a small 'crack', he moved to sit down; it would be nice to hear Roderich play again. It had been a while since the two of them could simply sit down without a pressing worry about them as they tried to relax. His eyes fluttered closed and he waited, only to have them snap open again as he heard the tune being played. Roddy... remembers that? He hadn't heard it in over a month; not since he himself had played it in the plaza. The song had been forgotten in a sense, something he didn't dare approach again in fear that playing it might undo what it had started in the first place, but to hear it now...
He stood up, stepping behind Roderich and slipped his arms around the brunette's waist, pressing his lips to the exposed side of the brunette's neck before pulling back. "Keep playing," he murmured and jumped down from the roof with practiced ease. It only took a few seconds for him to reappear and he moved behind Roderich again, pressing their backs together lightly as he raised a silver flute to his lips. You did this for me, didn't you? Gilbert's eyes shut again and he waited, carefully playing the tune over in his head before joining in as soon as he found an opening, carefully mimicking the counter-melody that the musician had played for him all those weeks ago.
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Apr 18, 2010 12:59:03 GMT -5
The melody flowed from the strings with only the slightest hesitation as Roderich fell into the music. He'd only heard it once, but he'd played it, felt it, and once he'd poured his magic into it, he could never forget it. Perhaps that was what had kept him practicing his music magic; even if he couldn't remember his childhood, couldn't remember anything, he could never forget the music he played.
Before, he hadn't played it from this side; he'd only heard it from Gilbert's violin. Even then, he could feel it flow from the wood that had once been Frederick's, feel it emerge as an echo of having once been played, an easy, natural flow that guided his fingers through the song and didn't allow him to falter. Closing his eyes, he let himself be played by the magic contained in the violin, giving it only the slightest nudge to continue the melody the way he wanted it to go, like a gentle, guiding hand.
Sensing Gilbert's approach through the web of music he'd extended around him, he managed not to flinch at the soothing touch of the other man around his body, leaning back into him and nearly falling as he pulled away far too quickly. Only the whispered command, keep playing [/color] kept him from turning and reaching for him, trusting the other man to return. In the few seconds he was gone, Roderich felt at once completely and utterly alone, and his emotions poured into the music, strengthening the magic until it seemed he could be heard by the entire town, as if he could summon Gilbert back to his side through his playing, as Gilbert had summoned him... was it really only a month ago? And then he was back as if he had never left, the other man's back pressed lightly against his own. The sharp edges of the other man's shoulder blades shifted against his own as Gilbert raised his hands, and for a moment, Roderich tensed, expecting another (not unwelcome) touch. Then the soft, haunting melody of a flute entered his magic -- tentatively at first, but then with a growing strength that fluttered in Roderich's chest. It was the same impromptu melody he himself had composed to accompany this song; played with a different flavor, a different instrument, a different essence... but he could still feel the way it fit in, the utter rightness of the music adding to the magic he himself felt. Roderich reached out and grasped those lilting strains, infusing it with his own soul and reaching out to touch the other man with invisible hands, an ethereal embrace that, for just those few moments, connected their souls. Gilbert has his contract... for a moment, Roderich fancied he could sense it, like a crimson thread connecting the two of them. Sweat peppering on his brow, he molded the magic around them, mentally coloring a few stray notes of the violin and flute with a deep purple hue and wrapping it around the other man's magic. ...and I have mine...He'd often used his music to peer into the souls of others, but for the first time, he let his own soul peek open, leaving it bare for Gilbert to feel. Something shifted in the balance of the music, and for a moment, as the song drew to a close, they played in perfect syncronity, music and magic, flute and violin, servant and master melding together into a near-indistinguishable single flow. Roderich's fingers trembled the last note, and finally, he let the bow fall to his side.[/sub][/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Apr 20, 2010 7:35:41 GMT -5
A small smile graced Gilbert's lips as he leaned into Roderich's back, enjoying the feeling of the other's touch as he lowered his flute and exhaled slowly. While he'd never learned how to control magic through music, he had always been able to feel it, and being a vampire had made him even more sensitive to the mana signatures of others. Whatever had just happened between the two of them, the differing (yet blended) levels of mana and something else he couldn't quite name had been...
"Have fun...?" he asked in a quiet voice, turning to slip his arms around Roderich's waist once more and bringing his chin to rest of the brunette's shoulder. "Your magic is stronger than before; just imagine how awesome it'll be when you can control it right with your new... condition." He avoided the word 'vampire', not wanting to associate Roderich with all that he had been. Vampires were seen as monsters and demons, and the Prussian could still see and sense that the musician was pure (or at least he was to him). The Austrian was the single brightest light in his life, and he wanted the other to be able to keep that. His innocence and purity...
"What were you trying to do earlier...?" he murmured, nuzzling Roderich's neck and pulling him against his chest. "You were doing something with your mana... It was a string? Notes...? I don't know. It was doing something to mine...." Was he... trying to form his own contract? I didn't get it... ---------- A/N: Evil bell is evil.... *has to cut reply short* DX
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Apr 24, 2010 23:04:57 GMT -5
Roderich snorted, a soft sound of derision as he leaned back into the Prussian's arms and closed his eyes in annoyance. "You don't need to treat me like a child, Gilbert," he scolded softly, the smallest of smiles crossing his face at the feel of the other man around him. "Saying 'condition' makes me sound like an invalid." He took a deep breath before pivoting to face him, fighting the reflexive inhale at the sight of the Prussian's crimson eyes so close to his own. "I... I was trying to make you understand, the only way I knew how..."
His voice caught in his throat as he looked down, raising a tentative hand to cover the Prussian's lips to keep him from speaking. "Gilbert, I... I don't regret it... you changing me. Music is the only way I know how to express myself, and... I..." Scowling at his own lack of eloquence, he forced himself to look up and smiled at the sight of the other man's face before lowering his hand to wrap both arms around Gilbert's waist. "Gilbert... you're always so disdainful of being a vampire, but... there are humans who are more monstrous than any vampire ever could be. My Vate--" he swallowed hard and continued, "My father is proof of that."
Shaking his head, he looked up and gently pressed his lips to the other man's. "It may be foolish, but..." Violet met crimson, separated only by a thin pane of glass. "I wanted to be with you. That's why I did it. So..." Shaking his head, he disentangled himself from the other man with a soft smile. "Why is it when I'm around you, my words stop making sense?"
Glancing around the roof, he added quietly, "Gilbert... teach me to be like you." [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on May 5, 2010 8:20:04 GMT -5
Shaking his head, Gilbert chuckled quietly and walked toward the edge of the roof, peering down at the ground below with vague interest. It had been years since he was last considered a 'fledgling', and in truth, most of that time was blurred. To someone such as himself, years often blended together into mixed memories that lacked dates or times he couldn't tell from one from another. He knew what Frederick had taught him, but each person was different and treating Roderich exactly the same wouldn't work, he knew that.
"You make it sound as if you're taking a class in school," the Prussian murmured, glancing over his shoulder to peer at the brunette with a small smile. "I can only teach you what has worked for me and what I think will work for you, you know that, ja? Still, I'm a pretty awesome teacher, so I bet we can figure something out." He laughed again and plopped down, letting his legs dangle over the edge of the roof. So much had happened so quickly, and he was still having a hard time keeping up with it all. It was never a dull moment with Roderich, but after nearly 200-years of a life that had been nothing but painful for him, he couldn't complain.
Leaning back, the albino used stretched his arms out behind him, using them to support his body as he tilted his head back to look at Roderich upside down. He blinked, a curious and faintly worried look forming in his eyes as he carefully looked the brunette over. "How are you feeling?" he asked, keeping his voice low enough that only the other would be able to hear his faint whisper. "You're not still hungry, are you?" A grin. "I kinda liked having you feed from me... Your dominant side is pretty awesome."
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on May 8, 2010 21:30:41 GMT -5
Roderich laughed quietly to match the Prussian's own before crossing the roof to stand behind him. Violin still lightly held by the neck in one hand, bow in the other, he lowered himself to the other's level and casually rested his head on the other man's shoulder. He said nothing, just relishing the lightness in the Prussian's voice.
It was something he had barely noticed before, but in the past weeks, he'd sensed and heard the tenseness, the reflexive tightness that laced both of their words as a constant reminder that Roderich was human and Gilbert was... not. But now, though there was still the residual aches of uncertainty, there was something comfortable, something that had changed. It was nothing so obvious, so superficial as the fangs and Roderich's newfound obsession with blood, he observed, shifting the bow to the same hand as the violin and pressing his palm against his mouth. Experimentally, he ran his tongue over his teeth just to feel the difference, how flat and empty it seemed without the sharp protrusions. No, this was something else, something different that Roderich almost wished he could have felt when he was still human.
Still... human... Like a student struggling to play a new song without a mistake, he kept returning to that point, a twist of pure terror threading through his stomach. This was all too fast, too much to absorb, and he was afraid of this new unknown. Gilbert...
His cheeks flushed as the Prussian spoke again, and he pulled slightly away from his shoulder with a cough. "Ah... no, I'm fine," he muttered, uncomfortable with the memory of such a fierce power, that side of him that kept surfacing near the Prussian. Adjusting his glasses on his nose with his free hand, he studiously avoided the Prussian's eyes with embarrassment. "I..."
Glancing back at Gilbert, he felt a warmth pooling in his stomach that had nothing to do with hunger, and he smiled. "I'm fine..." he repeated, tentatively shifting his weight to plant a light kiss against the Prussian's cheek. Without the raw power of his previous hunger coursing through him, he was uncertain with even this small movement, and he pulled away to set the violin and bow down on the rooftop. Lightly, he rested his now-free hand on the other's and just left it there. [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on May 11, 2010 13:54:34 GMT -5
"That's good bad..." Gilbert pouted with a tease, "I kinda liked having you dominate like that for once. You're surprisingly... seductive." The tone of in which he used to speak was joking, but the serious look on his face and in his eyes said otherwise. In truth, part of the Prussian really had enjoyed the brunette's sudden power-rush, but the more rational and self-controlled side was scolding him for even allowing himself to take pleasure in the sadistic actions.
Shaking his head, he slowly turned his hand over and laced his fingers with the Austrian's, noting that, somehow, they still felt warm to him. Perhaps it was simply because he was so used to being cold, or even because it was just due to the fact that it was Roderich's hand he was holding and he'd always seen the musician as something warm causing his mind to always feel that heated feeling from the other's skin. Whatever it was, Gilbert was glad that the feeling wasn't lost and he was still able to cling to the Austrian when he was feeling his worst.
"We can start basic training now, if you like..." the albino murmured, bringing their locked hands up to rest on his knee. "With Lizzy in the house, we'll have to get you used to the basic stuff as soon as possible. I'm not worried about the town, anything we need, I can go and get, but... I doubt you want to spend all your time up here on this roof." He leaned over and affectionately returned Roderich's earlier gesture to his cheek and pulled back. His free hand moved to brush several strands of hair out of the other's face, lingering for a moment as he allowed his fingers to trail down the Austrian's face. "...Whenever you're ready, just tell me."
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on May 21, 2010 12:23:47 GMT -5
Roderich coughed and ducked his head in further embarrassment, but he felt the heat in the other's eyes. A piece of him wondered what happened to the young bard who had been constantly struggling to subdue a master-like attitude to keep from offending those on the street. He'd grown to terms with who he was, he thought with a smile, shaking his head and tightening his grip on the Prussian's hand.
Maybe it was just because his skin was the same coolness as Gilbert's, but Roderich fancied that the other man's hands had warmed to an almost human feeling. Not that he had touched any humans since... but for now, he was content just to sit and hold the other man's hand, feeling a calming stillness unlike any other. Without the rushing torrent of a human's life-processes, it was far easier to simply sit and enjoy an absolute quiet.
"I... am ready to begin whenever you are," his voice emerged as little more than a whisper, reluctant to break the stillness of the night. "But I am not sure what this would entail. I... I would still have my music-magic, yes?" The sudden feeling of losing his touch with music jolted his eyes open, and he stared at the Prussian with faint alarm. [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on May 28, 2010 15:41:04 GMT -5
With a shake of his head, Gilbert shrugged, unable to think of a comforting or truthful answer to the other's question. "I don't know, honestly..." he sighed and leaned back, staring blankly up at the stars. "I didn't know magic before the old man started teaching me, so for as long as I can remember, I've always been a vampire when I used it; necromancy is all I've ever known how to use." He smiled apologetically and straightened himself, stretching his arms back before giving Roderich a comforting pat on the shoulder. "Guess there's only one way to find out, ja? If all else fails, you can always just play for pleasure."
Pushing himself to his feet, Gilbert crossed the length of the roof and glanced around, his features folding into a look of deep concentration. It had been a very long time since Frederick had trained him in the ways of the undead, and most of the memories were blurs. He couldn't remember specific lessons or means of doing things, he simply remembered and knew what could and couldn't be done. Eventually it had simply become habit, an idea of common sense rather than set rules.
"Guess we should start with blood..." he muttered, fishing around in his pocket to produce a small switch blade, flicking it open with a bored look. "It's probably the most important." He flicked it closed again and turned around, tilting his head as he looked at Roderich. "I mean, we don't get very far if you want to such anything that moves dry, ja?" Open. "Better we talk about it now." Closed. "Right now, your body is... uh, programed, I guess, to attack anything with a pulse. Or I guess that's just your instincts. It's food. A pulse means blood, blood means food. That's the mentality right now, but if you learn to control it, things get easier."
Stepping forward, Gilbert gestured to the roof below, indicating the floors underneath. "Right now, if we were to go into the house, you'd eventually start to smell Lizzy once you got used to the other stuff in there and you'd want to see her." He paused, taking the time to tug his shirt off and toss it aside. "If you got too close, you'd start to smell her--and not just the stuff you might have noticed in a human. She'll smell sweet... fresh... like food. So... we gotta get you used to blood. So... I guess I'll start you off." Without warning, the Prussian flicked the blade open and brought it to his left arm, slashing across the upper half with a quick flick of his wrist. He hissed in pain, wincing as a quick stream of blood began to run freely down his arm, staining the pale white skin.
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Jun 10, 2010 14:35:05 GMT -5
"B-blood?" It was with a bit of effort that Roderich managed to keep the tremble from his voice as he rose to his feet. Crossing his arms, he watched the other man cross the roof, trying to hide his disquiet. It had only been a few hours ago --could it really have only been that long? Really?-- that he had been changed, at the very mention of the crimson fluid he felt a tell-tale ache in his mouth. Keeping one arm crossed over his chest, he raised the other to his mouth and covered his lips.
His stomach turned in disgust as he listened to Gilbert speak, unable or unwilling to interrupt. The Hungarian woman below, the young woman who had professed such care for him, who had entrusted her life into their hands, would be considered... food? Not for the first time this night did Roderich start to question his motivations in turning. Would this really be better for the two of them in the long run, with Gilbert needing to watch his every move for fear of him snapping? And would Roderich even be able to protect him any more from his own dark inner self?
Roderich bit his lower lip, feeling the comforting press of normal human teeth indent the skin. There was no blood, no tearing of flesh as would be expected from his vampiric fangs, and he comforted himself with this, watching the knife warily. "How would I grow accustomed to--"
He almost didn't see the blade move, so quickly did it slice. He didn't even register the crimson fluid with his eyes before he smelled it, the scent rushing through the air and leaving him dizzy with anticipation. Roderich didn't even realize he had crossed the roof until he knelt on one knee before Gilbert, grasping the other man's hand firmly between both of his and licking greedily at the blood pouring down his arm. His tongue swirled in an attempt to capture every drop of the precious fluid, trailing up until it came to the wound itself. Eyes half-lidded with desire, Roderich glanced up without pulling his tongue away from the wound. [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Jun 11, 2010 17:12:31 GMT -5
In all honesty, it would have shocked Gilbert had Roderich been able to resist on the first go. He had held no doubts that the brunette would have made a dive for his blood, though he would admit he was slightly disappointed that it didn't appear as if he had made no attempt at all to stop himself. Though, he would admit, he hadn't done much better just after he'd been turned and couldn't truly be upset with the other for following instincts he'd yet to learn to control.
"Stop," he said firmly, tugging his hand out of the Ausrian's grasp with a swift jerk. A tingling sensation had begun to shoot up and down his arm, and it had taken a great deal of self-control not to kneel down and allow the other to continue. With a small sigh, he raised the wound to his own lips and licked it slowly, watching in dull amusement as the wound slowly began to close and stopped the flow of blood. "I think it's safe to say you failed this round," he smiled faintly, trying to keep his tone light and playful before his expression turned serious. "If you expect to be able to be allowed near Elizabeta by morning, you need to gain some sort of control. You're still a fledgling, and if sun makes it difficult for me to travel and function, it'll be killer for you."
Taking a step around Roderich, the Prussian slowly made his way to the other side of the roof, flicking the blade in his hand open and shut as he went. The now blood-soaked dress shirt he wore was tossed it to the side; it was useless for now, and there was no reason to allow it to get more stained. He planned to burn or dispose of it later, but now was not the time. "To be fair, you are still a fledgling, Roderich, but in real life, you aren't going to be warned that this is training. You need to be prepared for anything at any time. The smallest paper-cut could send you into a hunger-rage at this point. We need to teach you control..."
As Gilbert spoke, he raised the knife in his hands and gave it a bored look, tilting his head to the side. Well then... he thought, twirling it slowly. Test two: what instincts are more powerful. Those you have to feed... The twirling stopped as crimson eyes met violet. ...or those you seem to have to protect me? Smirking, he jerked his hand forward, jamming the blade into his lower abdomen with a strangled cry of pain before collapsing to his knees.
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Jun 17, 2010 19:48:40 GMT -5
A deep, guttural growl emerged from Roderich's throat, his eyes flashing angrily as his meal was forcibly yanked away from his grasp. Mindless hands reached out again as he glared up at the one who had dared come between him and--
His growl died in his throat as his eyes widened in horror, meeting the Prussian's crimson. Kneeling there, it was almost as if time completely stopped around them, leaving only the other man still moving normally. Roderich slowly forced himself to his feet, moving in slow motion compared to Gilbert casually licking the blood from his arm as if nothing could happen, numb ears barely hearing spoken word. "G-Gilbert, I..." he stuttered, hand rising to his mouth to feel the telltale edge of fangs. "I didn't mean... I didn't want--" I just moved on my own and I didn't want to and I... do...
It took the entirety of the brunette's self-control to keep from lunging at him again, the scent of blood so thick in the air it was as if he were swimming in it. His mouth parted a tiny bit, tongue licking the last drops of blood from his lips as he stared, then gagged in terror at his own actions. His mouth widened to apologize again, then with a wet snick that made no sense, the sound of blade tearing flesh echoed in his ears.
His head tilted in almost-confusion at the sound, and until Gilbert started to fall, he still didn't realize exactly what happened.
And then he did.
A choked off cry burst from his lips as he attempted to scream with no air. His motions earlier had been lightning, had been a magical burst of light compared to his movements now. For the few steps that separated them, it was as if he were crossing leagues.
"You... you moron!" Roderich skidded to his knees and grabbed the Prussian's hands, tearing the knife from the other man's stomach. Blood sprayed the air from the jerk, thickening the scent (if possible) even more until even thought was hard to come by. "I-- bandages-- do you have... bandages...?" He tried to pull himself away, but a red haze in his mind demanded otherwise and slowed his speech, and his arms began to buckle as he leaned in, fingers tearing the cloth to widen the small slit made by the knife (so he could judge the extent of the wound and take the appropriate action, that's why....) to reveal bare skin around the wound, hastily reddening with blood. Gently, ever so gently Roderich lowered his head until his tongue darted experimentally over the bare skin, eyes darkening.
Then with an abrupt yank, he threw himself away and grabbed the shirt Gilbert had given him to wear, tearing it off and balling it up to press over the wound. "Y-you moron," he whispered, every muscle in his body shaking with the effort of holding himself back, pressing hard against the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut as if that would help block out the sight, the smell, the feeling of being surrounded by so much blood...
what am i supposed to do...? [/blockquote]
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