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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 20, 2010 0:25:17 GMT -5
"Wha... dammit!" Gilbert snarled in annoyance and spun on his heel, carefully holding his balance to keep from plummeting down the stairs. His head gave a dull throb in protest at the sudden quick movement, but he ignored it, drawing his sword with a careful flick of the wrist and moving to stand several feet in front of Roderich. He flashed a grateful grin over his shoulder as he felt the effects from the Austrian's spell and darted forward with a quiet growl.
A loud clang filled the stairway as his sword connected with the creatures, making the monster stumble backward. Self-satisfaction shot through the albino as he swung again, successfully knocking the other fighters blade out of it's hands. Stabbing would be useless, he knew that much, but bones could be broken easily if one knew how to slice. His sword cut through his attacks with ease, sending the several skeletons to the floor in a jumbled mess of dust, bone, and useless weapons. Alas, his victory was short-lived as he heard movement from behind and spun around once more, cursing.
He'd forgotten about the ones behind them.
Moving forward, he sheathed his blade and made several complicated movements through their air with his right arm. His eyes took on a bright crimson glow that stood out like candles in the dim light of the stairway and a quick spell was murmured under his breath. Several blades, black in colour, appeared around Gilbert, suspended in mid-air and made of a dark aura that seemed to radiate a menacing feeling He pointed to the creatures working their way up from above and the swords darted forward, cutting through the monsters with ease and sending down tumbling backward in the same jumbled less as the ones at his feet.
"There, we--shit! Roderich!" The Prussian gasped sharply in alarm. Two of the monsters had managed to work their way past his spell and were much closer to Roderich than himself. There wasn't enough time to charge, and even if he tried, they were too close to the brunette to risk casting. Throwing a dagger or blade of any sort was just as dangerous in the dark-setting, and their positioning was better than the albino's for attack. He wouldn't be able to move in time without having to push the Austrian down the stairs.
He wouldn't be able to make it in time.
"Roderich! On your left, look out!"
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 20, 2010 0:50:02 GMT -5
Roderich could feel each creature as it advanced, feel the wrongness of their existence... different, somehow, from the sense that Gilbert exuded. These creatures had no mind of their own -- he could feel a dark force behind them, pushing their movements and forcing them forward. He felt no pity for them as he allowed the music to take him away from this place, letting his fear and anxiety pour from his own soul into the music, and from there into the skeletons. He doubted it had much effect on the undead creatures, but he could take that weakness and force it into them. His music-magic weakened their dark master's hold on them and slowed their movements, giving Gilbert the extra time to finish off each one of them.
He could sense Gilbert fully within the music now, feel his entire soul laid bare before him. Gilbert glowed with a brilliant white compared to the rest of this castle and the creatures around them, the darkness around the edges of his soul almost completely swallowed up by the blaze of light.
Roderich redoubled his efforts, forcing the magic in the air to exploit weaknesses within the skeletal frame itself, popping and severing the magical connections that served as tendons and ligaments. So deep was he in watching the creatures around Gilbert that he failed to pay heed to his own safety, trusting in the other.
Then he heard him call his name, and his attention at once flew back to his immediate surroundings. With a sudden jolt of fear, Roderich felt how close two skeletons were to him, and his bow slid against the strings, breaking the connection with the magic as they advanced, quicker than thought. His eyes flew open, and reacting purely on self-preservation, he swung the violin in a broad motion.
Only as it was too late to arrest the motion, did he realize what he had just done, eyes widening in horror.
The violin impacted against the skeletal warrior's head and shattered into hundreds of splinters. Roderich screamed as the magic poured out of it in a vortex, obliterating the warrior before him. Clutching the shattered neck of the violin, he screamed again as the second skeleton lunged forward, dragging its sharp fingerbones across his back and carving deep furrows in his back as he collapsed to the floor.
The sudden change in balance shifted the creature to fall over him, and as it plummeted, Roderich's wrist snapped forward to drive the bow through its eye socket, tearing the head clean off. Tears of pain and loss welled in his eyes as he clutched the shattered remains of his violin to his chest, staring at the wooden splinters mixed in among the bones fragments as Gilbert finished off the last of the creatures. With gentle fingers, he lifted the largest splinter and squeezed it tightly in his fist, silent tears spilling down his face.
His constant companion, his best weapon, the source of his music, the gateway to his soul, a piece of the puzzle to his history... gone. Shattered.
And he wept. [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 20, 2010 1:37:17 GMT -5
The scene before him seemed to move in fragment-like flashes that his brain couldn't quite keep up with. Several seconds of sheer horror had passed when he truly though the creatures were going to end the brunette before his eyes. That they would take away the only happiness he'd ever managed to find in his life and actually hold on to without fear... but then the Austrian moved and Gilbert didn't realize how loud he'd shouted until he heard it echoing around them.
Several chunks of wood landed near the albino's feet and he stared at them as if they were bizarre foreign objects that he couldn't quiet identify. The creatures were gone and the tension in his body had died away, but the bits of what used to be a violin held his attention and for some reason the relief that should have come with the sudden calm didn't. It wasn't until the sound of Roderich's tears finally penetrated his shocked form that he tore his gaze away from the ground in favour of looking at the brunette. Even in the dark, it was easy for Gilbert to see the small rivers of water that shouldn't have been there on the Austrian's cheeks.
In the depths of his stomach, the monster clawed and roared, twisting violently as his chest suddenly grew tight. His heart, or at least the general area of where it was supposed to be, clenched painfully and the albino wanted nothing more than to run forward and pull Roderich into his arms. Instead, he knelt down silently and gathered the splinters at his feet, carefully depositing them onto a blanket he'd produced from one of his own traveling bags which he laid on one of the stairs. Just as quietly, he moved up and down, gathering what bits were large enough to hold in a hand or be seen by his sharp eyes. He left the piece in Roderich's hands for last, carefully easing it out of the Austrian's fingers and setting it with the rest before tying the blanket up at it's corners and placing it beside them. They'd be safe in there for now.
"Roderich," he called quietly, cupping the other's cheek with a gentle hand. He didn't know the origins of the violin, but it didn't take the story behind the instruments history to realize how important it had been. His arms worked carefully around Roderich's waist, pulling the other snuggling against his chest, the Prussian did all he could to calm the man in his arms down. His lips moved in quiet words of comfort that he muttered in the Austrian's ear, his eyes closed and raked with guilt for all that had happened. "Roderich... I'm... so sorry. If... I had just moved a little faster, then..." he trailed off, tightening his grip.
The scent of blood was heavy against the musty smell of the castle, but Gilbert ignored it. He buried his nose in Roderich's hair, holding his breathe in a clumsy attempt to calm himself down. His hands trembled slightly in the effort, but the steady chant of 'no, no, no!' in the back of his mind seemed to be helping. He knew better than to feed from humans, and the idea of biting Roderich sent a wave of horror over him so violent that the shaking seemed to double for a few minutes before it finally stopped and the Prussian felt his mind begin to clear.
"...I'm sorry..." We need to keep moving. "I shouldn't have left your side. Then this never would have..." he stopped, going completely rigid as he heard a loud movement from downstairs. Something was down there, waiting for them at the bottom... and it was only a matter of time before it got bored of waiting if they didn't move.
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 20, 2010 11:33:55 GMT -5
Roderich sniffed and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, composing himself slowly. "This... this is no one's fault but my own," he whispered, laying a shaking hand on the bag of splinters and swallowing renewed tears. He carefully untied the bag and wrapped the shattered neck inside before gingerly wrapping it back up. Forcing himself to his feet, he handed the bag to Gilbert before drawing his shortbow from his back and pulled a long wire from his knapsack to string it. "It's... it's just a violin..." he muttered thickly, tucking it carefully at the top of the knapsack and throwing it over his back.
Hissing with pain at the movement, he pulled it off again and tried to peer behind him, heart sinking as he realized he was bleeding. His coat had borne the brunt of the attack, leaving him with five long but shallow scratches. Glancing at Gilbert, he winced. "I'm sorry..." he muttered, face flushing as he realized the difficulty the other man was likely having at the scent of blood. "This is selfish of me. We can leave, if you wish."
From below, he heard the sound of something below, and he started to doubt if they would even be able to leave as easily as they had entered. [/sub]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 20, 2010 12:01:59 GMT -5
Just a violin, Roderich....? Maybe to someone else, but to you, it was... Pushing the thoughts aside, Gilbert glanced down at the wrapping Roderich had placed in his arms. Guilt tugged at the back of his mind, but he quickly locked the feeling away. They couldn't afford to be careless right now. His eyes slowly moved over to the cuts on the brunette's back and he gulped, shaking his head.
"Don't apologize," he muttered, moving behind Roderich to examine the damage properly. The sweet aroma of the other's blood filled his senses and he felt himself leaning forward, his eyes shutting halfway as he got closer. No! he shouted in his mind. No! This is Roderich! I can't... I can't be... Stop! With a small yelp, his body went rigid. The smell was starting to make his head spin, but with a final deep breath, he held it. He didn't need to breathe and the habit could wait for now.
Reaching into his pack, he produced a small glass bottle and popped the cork top off. Inside was a clear, paste-like liquid that Gilbert carefully scooped onto his fingers and began applying to the cuts through the tears in Roderich's coat. "It won't close them... but it'll stop the pain and bleeding until we can find a healer. It'll have to do for now." He moved back around the brunette and placed the items in his hands into his bag, drawing his sword once more. "...We can keep going," he took his spot in front of Roderich, his eyes hard. "Whatever is downstairs, we need to get rid of it... If someone else wonders into this place, they might not be as lucky as us. And you... I think you need to see it."
Without waiting for a response, the albino slowly started down the stairs again, straining his senses to their max. He wouldn't allow another mistake like his previous to happen again. Roderich had lost enough in his life, and now, the instrument that the Prussian knew was well-cared for and treasured was gone as well. Dammit... there must be something I can do about that last bit...
"...We're here," he muttered as they reached the bottom of the stairs. The sound of movement was much louder than before, and a single doorway stood a few feet ahead and to their left. "The door is missing. Once we move forward... no turning back."
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 20, 2010 13:19:26 GMT -5
Wordlessly, Roderich allowed Gilbert to treat his back before shouldering his bag again. When they escaped, he would need to show the other man just how much he appreciated everything he did for him, somehow. He smiled over his shoulder in thanks as they continued walking down the stairs. An arrow clutched lightly between two fingers, he held it against the string, ready to fire at anything else that decided to follow them down the stairs. Carefully he cased their backs, trusting in Gilbert to shout a warning if anything came at them from the other direction.
His bow... With his thumb, he stroked the feathered fletching with a faint sadness, wishing he could feel his violin under his chin. He could shoot well enough, but it was not the same as feeling the music sweep him through a battle. Archery was so... unsophisticated. With a catch in his throat, tears tried to well in his eyes again, but he shook his head roughly to dispel them and tried to convince himself that there was no meaning behind the instrument. He didn't even know where it came from or how he had obtained it -- he just knew that, as far as he could remember, he had had it.
As they descended the final meters of the stairs without incident, Roderich finally turned and surveyed the area they were to enter with some apprehension. Normally, he would use his violin to sense what was inside the dark room before them, but... even without it, he could feel that this room was where the darkness of the castle originated. He swallowed hard and touched Gilbert's shoulder to let him know to move forward. Reaching back with one hand, he felt the arrows in the case on his back and nodded to himself once. "Let's go," he murmured in the other's ear.
As they crossed the threshold, a glimmering purple energy barrier materialized behind them, cutting off their escape. Eyes wide, Roderich let out a small yell and almost stumbled backward into it as torches all around the room burst simultaneously into flame, the sudden change in lighting scorching his eyeballs and illuminating what seemed to be a large study, walls lined floor-to-ceiling with shelves full of books.
His back to them, a black-robed figure sat before an antique writing desk, staring up at a large map covering the wall in front of them. Roderich stopped and drew the string back by his ear, feeling his muscles tremble with the exertion. It had been too long since he'd practiced archery, he thought to himself with some disgust.
Then he realized his entire body was shaking. As soon as he'd set eyes on this man, he'd started to tremble from his aura, breath catching. Even without the music, he could feel a persistent evil oozing from this man. It was obvious that he, then, was the one who had sent the skeletons. If it hadn't been for the barrier erected behind them, Roderich might have entertained notions of flight. Even now, it was difficult for him to resist the urge to lower the bow and surrender.
One glance at his silver-haired companion renewed his resolve as surely as any spell, and he forced his hand to steady. With the tripping of the barrier, it was impossible for the other man to not know they were there. Closing one eye, Roderich tilted his head to the side and steadied his aim.
"I wouldn't do that, if I were you..." The man finally spoke without turning around. "After all, would you really want to kill your own father?"
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 20, 2010 14:21:29 GMT -5
"Fucking hell...!" Gilbert hissed as he glared at the barrier behind them. With a growl of distaste, he aimed a kick at the blockage, stumbling backward as the transparent wall repelled his touch and shoved him away. While the room itself was quite large, the Prussian had never taken well to being trapped anywhere and a wave of panic washed over him. The lights were enough to keep him calm, at least they could see, but another carefully aimed punch assured the silverette that they wouldn't be leaving without a fight.
"Roderich," the Prussian mumbled as he turned around, rubbing his sore fist gingerly. "We..."
"I wouldn't do that, if I were you... After all, would you really want to kill your own father?"
What...? Gilbert's eyes widened in faint shock, his eyes darting from his brunette companion to the man in front of them that seemed to be radiating dark energy. His muscles tensed, fingers twitching around the hilt of his sword. The situation was bad, he could tell that much, and whoever this was, they were trying to get inside Roderich's head.
"Bullshit!" Gilbert snarled, taking several steps forward and raised a hand in the air just as he had in the staircase. The long black swords of black aura took form and floated in the air. A bright red glow surrounded each one, a combination of powerful blood and black magic, before they shot forward at alarming speed, aimed for different points of the man's body. "Don't think you can just fuck around with his head!"
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 20, 2010 16:31:02 GMT -5
The figure turned and grinned, a flash of white teeth in pale skin as he raised his arms, cloak flying out behind him. The magic Gilbert used should have worked; Roderich could sense the power in it, and for a moment it bolstered his courage enough that he let his arrow fly. Both missiles, magical and non-magical flew directly toward the black-cloaked figure, but he only laughed. As if absorbed into an invisible shield like the one blocking the door, the missiles froze, shuddering in the grip of the magic, then shattered as if they were blocks of ice dropped on a floor.
Roderich pulled another arrow from his quiver, but didn't fire it. The figure still only laughed, making no move to attack either of them.
A voice like sandpaper against tile emerged from the figure's throat. "Come now, Roderich, don't you remember me?" The figure lowered its hood, revealing a face that was far too similar to Roderich's own. Deep blue eyes glimmered with a strange intensity, seeming far too bright for his face. Pale skin like paper stretched tautly across his gaunt face so it seemed as if he were a skeleton himself, as if his flesh were some sick joke played on a rotted corpse. A white cravat like Roderich's own spilled down the figure's chest, standing out like a beacon against his black vest. "You've finally come home to me," he continued, approaching slowly, eyes shining. "They thought they could take you from me, but I knew you'd come back."
"I... I don't know what you're talking about." Roderich raised his bow warningly. "You tried to kill us. Give me one reason why I should listen to you." His arms, no his entire body, trembled with fear and disgust as the other man stopped, grin widening.
"You don't remember, do you?" The figure stopped and held up his hands peaceably. "They took you from me before I could finish your training, Roderich. For that is who you are. My son, Roderich Edelstein. You grew up in this castle." His laugh was more like a cough than anything else. "They took you from me, but you've come back. I knew you would come back. It's in our blood, you know. The power? Your friend there has it, too. Blood magic." His eyes shone with a manic gleam. "I knew you'd come back, Roderich. And you've brought me a present. I knew you'd bring me something." He gently wiped a black-gloved hand against his lips, wet with eager saliva. "I want this power. He is a necromancer, your friend. Tell me, friend," he turned to Gilbert, licking his lips. "What was the price for your power? I want it. Oh, do I ever want it..."
"You're mad!" Roderich let another arrow fly before Gilbert could respond, which vanished the same way the other had. His heart thudded painfully in his chest as he looked at this man, but he refused to accept that this could be him. After all his searching, this couldn't be him. "I don't know how you know my name, but you're an abomination!"
"Oh, Roderich." Without looking at him, the skeletal man flicked his wrist toward him. "They've done a fantastic job with you, but you will remember me. For now, stay here. Out of the way."
Roderich yelled hoarsely as tendrils of black mana sprang from the ground and wrapped themselves tightly around his wrists and legs. "Gilbert!" he cried with a grunt of pain as the mana physically lifted him off the ground with a jolt that seemed as if it might tear his shoulders out. "Gilbert, get him!" No matter how he resisted, he couldn't break the mana's hold. He closed his eyes and focused his inner magic, trying to find a weakness in the tendrils that he could exploit with what little he could manipulate without the guide of music. [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 20, 2010 17:23:49 GMT -5
"Roderich!" Crimson eyes widened in alarm as he watched Roderich was pulled into the air. A low and dangerous emitted from his throat and he tightened his grip on his sword. He couldn't have cared less what this man said about him, or the bizarre fascination with his power, but attacking Roderich was pushing the silverette's already short temper.
"You want to know the cost of my power?" he asked, stepping forward. A dagger was drawn from the folds of his cloak which he gripped tightly in his left hand, keeping his sword in the right. "Your life... your very being, you sick... twisted freak. You die and you're condemned to a life of solitude with nothing to look forward to but the the guess of just how many people are going to hate your guts or try to kill you the next day. You lose your humanity and your soul... You become a freak... a demon, and you're left with nothing." Pausing, the silverette glanced up at Roderich, a fond look melting into his blood-red eyes. "I'm one of the lucky ones... I found something to life for again... and I'll be damned if I let you take that away from me!"
With a loud cry, the Prussian darted forward, raising both the sword and dagger. "Majiwara zarishi inochi ni, ima mo tarasaren setsuna no kiseki. Toki wo hete...Koko ni yuugou seshi mirai he no taidou! Gishou Ken! Ore wa...kako wo tachikiru. Chire! Majin Rengokusatsu!" His eyes glowed a bright rose-purple, the glow reaching his blades and surrounded his entire body. Each thrust was made with a cry before a large burst of energy exploded around his being and slammed into the figure before him. Each thrust hit harder than the last, and seconds after the first few hits the same bomb-like mana rained down from the sky in the form of powerful beams that collided with the figures head. "I won't let you touch him!"
When the attack finally finished, Gilbert stood frozen behind Roderich's "father". His breath came out in heavy pants and his entire body protested with the straining with the effort of holding him up. He winced and fell to one knee, grasping his sword for support as the dagger clattered to the floor. The spell he had used always taken a great deal of mana and personal strength for him to use, but this time his temper had fueled the actions and he used more magic than was needed. With a shaky gasp, the albino raised a hand and slashed it through the air, sending a wave of the same rose-purple energy toward the mana that bound Roderich.
"S-shit..." he gasped, feeling his knee give way. He fell forward into a crumpled heap on the ground, shivering. "I used too much..." -------- You might have to watch the video a few times before it finally plays and stops jumping. DX
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 20, 2010 19:26:48 GMT -5
Roderich barely heard or saw Gilbert, focusing his mind within himself in an attempt to control the mana around him. A few deep breaths, and he forced himself to calm down. The tendrils oozed like oil across his wrists, seeping beneath his sleeve with a cold disgusting touch.
impossible. that man can't be Vater. i refuse to believe...
Angrily shoving those thoughts away, Roderich focused with renewed energy on tapping into the music in his soul, feeling the invisible connection between himself and the other man made visible by the black bonds. He felt with haunting, growing certainty that he and this man had met before, and the feel of their magic was far too similar to be dismissed as coincidence.
this can't be it. this can't be what i've been looking for. it CAN'T be!
With a guttural scream, Roderich forced his magic out, but the bonds didn't break. Breathing heavily, he could only watch, helpless, as Gilbert's magic tore through the small room, sending books flying from their organized shelves and tearing the map on the wall.
And then, too quickly almost, it was over. The man claiming to be his father lay motionless on the floor, and Roderich collapsed to the ground as Gilbert released the magic. "Gilbert!" he cried, picking himself up and running over, trampling books and loose papers underfoot. Skidding to his knees, he supported the other man behind the shoulders and stared at the remains of the skeletal man.
Amazingly, he was still alive, breath coming in wheezing gasps. Roderich fumbled against the ground blindly until his fingers came in contact with the dagger Gilbert had dropped. "Tell me the truth," he demanded, clutching the dagger by the hilt, blade pointed perpendicular to the other man's throat. "Who are you? How do you know my name?"
"Oh, Roderich..." The dying man either laughed or coughed, it was impossible to tell which. "I'm so envious of you." His glasses were cracked and hanging askew, but it did nothing to dim the fervor in his eyes. "You have so much potential. You're the only heir I have." Scrabbling his hand against the ground, he pointed to Gilbert. "I'm so proud that you're using something like that to empower yourself. Just like... I taught you..."
"You're wrong!" Something inside him snapped, and Roderich lunged forward as he drove the dagger down into where his heart should be, baring his teeth. "Gilbert is more than that!" Enraged, he ripped the dagger free, crimson blood spraying the air and painting his face, his clothes. "You would treat him as a tool just like everyone else, but he is so much more...!" Again and again he drove the dagger into the other man's body, hacking his flesh to pieces. "You don't know me! You're not my Vater!" He could taste blood that was not his own, the heavy scent of iron filling the air and coating the back of his throat. "You don't know anything!"
Tears mixed with blood carved lines down his face as he finally released the dagger and fell backward, leaving the weapon sticking from the bloody mass of flesh that had once been a man. Bile rose in his throat as he tasted blood, and he fell to all fours, retching. "Dammit..." he choked out. "Dammit..." He pounded a fist weakly against the floor and turned back to offer Gilbert a reassuring smile. "Are you... are you okay?"
He forced himself to his feet and stumbled backward, eyes widening in horror. "Oh God, the blood... Gilbert, I'm so sorry, I'll find somewhere, I'll do something, just... hold on!" He didn't know if the other man was going to snap. Everything was happening so fast, everything...
He had just murdered a man claiming to be his Vater. Roderich's stomach turned, and he almost started to retch again. "Please, Gilbert..." His eyes pleaded understanding. [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 20, 2010 19:44:25 GMT -5
A trembling laugh tumbled from the albino's lips. He was exhausted, his entire body trembling as he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. Everywhere he looked there was blood and the smell was maddening. He shuddered and shut his eyes, blindly groping around until he found Roderich's shoulder, pulling the brunette into an awkward embrace. He pressed his nose against the other's neck, inhaling deeply and felt himself calm down. He could still smell the crimson mess, but the musician's scent was comforting and helped him think clearly.
"It's fine..." he mumbled, leaning against Roderich's chest as he tried to gather enough energy to stand. His legs didn't seem to want to agree with him, and he opted to slump against the other's chest. "We just... need to get out of this room--and fast. I... I can handle it if we... go back upstairs..." He nuzzled closer, mumbling soft words of assurance in the other's ear in an attempt to keep himself fully distracted (as Roderich provided a very nice one).
He wanted to question Roderich on where the sudden burst of power had come from, but he knew staying in the room much longer would make him lose control; and the Austrian was the closet, warmest meal at the moment. Thus, he was more than grateful when they finally got upstairs back to the main lobby they'd been wondering in previously. The blood soaked into Roderich's clothes wasn't nearly as tempting as the mess downstairs, and it wasn't until they were in better lighting that he finally noticed just how badly Roderich's clothes had been ruined. "...We should look around a bit," he mumbled, his arms still wrapped tightly around the brunette's waist. "Your clothes are a damn mess. If we walk into a town with you like that... people would ask questions." He whimpered and tightened his grip, feeling his legs begin to tremble. "S-shit... and some... rats or something. I... can barely stand..."
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 21, 2010 19:19:29 GMT -5
"Come on, Gilbert." Roderich kept his grip on the other man and guided him through the main hall. With the death of the necromancer below, faint but normal light streamed through the filthy windows, while rain pounded against the outside glass in a steady rhythm, thunder and lightning crashing with angry intensity. Together, the two ventured into a side room connected to the main hall. Teeth gritted, Roderich tightened his hold on Gilbert and carefully lowered him onto a plush armchair before an empty fireplace, checking their surroundings.
It seemed that this room had been a study, but all the shelves were dust-covered and empty, suggesting that perhaps the books crammed into the secret basement had been moved from here. Roderich swallowed hard and closed his eyes tightly. It wasn't difficult for him to remember this room in its former glory as a family study, fireplace blazing with a cheerful light as he and... He gritted his teeth and shook his head. No matter how he concentrated, he couldn't remember any people with him.
"I'm going... I'm going to go look for something to change into," Roderich muttered finally, a hollow feeling growing in his stomach. "I'll... find you something to eat," he added, backing away and disappearing behind the door back into the main hall.
Breath coming quickly, Roderich staggered a few steps away and collapsed against the wall, closing his eyes and forcing himself with effort to slow his breathing. A wave of vertigo assaulted him as he focused on his breathing, trying to count his breathes in an attempt to slow the heart that threatened to beat out of his chest.
This had been his home. With the presence of the necromancer fading, the castle was all the more familiar. Forcing himself off the wall, he stumbled into a halting run, moving unerringly through the halls and up stairs until he stopped before a door, staring at it uncertainly. A trembling hand pushed the door open, and as the light from the hallway penetrated the dark room, he fell to his knees with a shaky laugh.
Hanging on the wall before him, above a four-poster bed, was a portrait of a smiling blue-eyed man with his hand on the shoulder of a young violet-eyed boy. Roderich squeezed his eyes shut, clenching a fist against the ground, refusing to meet his own eyes staring from the painting. [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 21, 2010 21:02:14 GMT -5
A pale hand extended in an attempt to grab Roderich's coat, but the brunette was already out of reach by the time Gilbert had raised it. He cursed quietly and settled against the back of the chair the Austrian had left him in, lazily glancing around the room with a single open eye. It was fancy, to say the least, even in it's worn down state, the Prussian could tell the room had once been glorious and welcoming. The fireplace was filled with uncleaned ash, and somewhere in the corner he could make out the shadow of what appeared to be old toys. This used to be a warm place... he thought dully, his gaze stopping on a bit of broken wood peeking out from under a chair that looked like it had once been a fake sword. A warm place, and a warm family... he smiled dully. I wonder what that's like. Pushing on the arms of his chair, the albino shakily managed to maneuver himself to his feet and stepped forward. After the incidents on the staircase and downstairs, he wasn't keen on the idea of leaving Roderich on his own. He fumbled around in his bag, producing one of the few bags of animal blood he had left and raised it to his lips. His face twisted into a look of self-shame as he bit down, fangs piercing the plastic with ease and sucked it dry. "That'll have to do..." he murmured, tossing it to the ground without much thought and started for the door. It would be enough to help him walk through the castle without trouble, but another battle would render him close to useless if he was forced to use magic again. "I need to catch up to him."
As he stepped out into the hallway, Gilbert shut his eyes and inhaled slowly, straining his ears for signs of foreign movement. It didn't seem as if anything dangerous would be able to find them, but better safe than sorry. A sweet aroma was faintly detectable somewhere to his right making him grin. It was Roderich's scent, he was sure of it, and wasted no time in following it, breaking into a panicked run when he spotted the brunette on the ground.
"Roderich!" he called quietly, concern evident in his tone as he dropped to his knees, carefully wrapping an arm around the other's waist and eased him back to his feet. "Idiot..." he growled, pulling one of Roderich's arms around his shoulders for support. "You didn't have to leave me there. I can manage without a meal for a while longer... I don't want you having to navigate this place on your own." He smirked, then added in a cocky, tone, hoping to cheer his contractor up. "You need someone awesome like me with you to make sure nothing bad happens~ And with your luck and shitty sense of direction, you'd manage to lock yourself in the attic."
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 21, 2010 22:23:32 GMT -5
Roderich snorted weakly and brushed the other's arm off, staggering to his feet. "The attic would be the top floor," he stated with a smile. "Even I would be able to go down the stairs from there. Besides," he added, sobering, "I think this is the one place in the world where even I can't get lost."
Without looking to see if the other was following, Roderich entered the room, swallowing hard as he surveyed it. "This was my room," he said softly, running a hand across a wooden writing desk against the left wall. A rocking horse sat unused in a far corner beside the large four-poster bed, neatly made up with deep royal-purple blankets. Crossing the room, he opened the musty velvet curtains and let light enter the room. The light filtered through the window and bounced off the multitude of dust motes flying through the air. The bedroom was remarkably similar to the guest room Gilbert had given him, down to the bathroom and similar desk.
With a sad smile, Roderich crouched down and lifted a small wooden case from beside the rocking horse. "This must have been my first violin," he murmured, eyes studying the case carefully before popping it open. "It's too small, or I'd take it with me..." He ran a hand carefully along the miniature violin with some regret before closing the case and leaving it on the bed, shaking his head with frustration. "This is annoying," he remarked, backing out of the room and continuing down the hall without looking to see if Gilbert followed. "I could tell you all about these rooms, what happened in them, which was the room where I practiced music, where I played with toys, where I ate breakfast... but not who I did it with. There are no faces..."
He sighed and glanced over his shoulder. "I have to go back to that room where... where that man was." He couldn't bring himself to refer to him as his father, though all the evidence seemed to point that way. "Please, stay up here," he requested sincerely. "Rest. I don't want you to go down there." Continuing down the hall, he thought for a moment and added, "I want you to see if you can find anything useful in these upstairs rooms, alright?" If he gave Gilbert an order, hopefully he would follow that rather than the Austrian himself. [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 21, 2010 23:31:33 GMT -5
A surge of sympathy burst through Gilbert's stomach as he watched Roderich moving throughout the room. Everything in it, from the floors to the ceiling, seemed to fit the brunette perfectly. While normally, something like this would have fascinated the Prussian to the point where he would have looked at and through everything with careful crimson eyes. He could have learned so much, just by looking around and taking in the minor details. He'd always been good at that, seeing something in almost nothing at all, as being immortal gave him the pleasure of a great deal of thinking time. However, his hopes of exploring around the room were quickly dismissed as he started after Roderich the moment the brunette left.
When he was told to say upstairs, he opened his mouth in protest, ready to fight for a reason for him to follow, but before the words could form in his mouth, Roderich had given an order. He faltered, and grudgingly nodded slowly, waiting until the Austrian was completely out of sight before making his way toward the staircase. With each step he took, the wood under his feet would whine in protest, and Gilbert found himself adding the moment to the short list of rare times that he was pleased for being a vampire. It added the advantage of being much lighter in weight than most humans and able to stand on things that others wouldn't be able to.
The rooms upstairs, simply, were quite boring. Most of them appeared to be bedrooms, furnished to suit the personal tastes of their respective owners like Roderich. Music, as it was, didn't seem to be that much of a common theme for the females in the family. The more feminine rooms seemed to be angled towards the arts or designing clothes with bits of half-sewn fabric strewn about or dried out brushes and paints thrown over desks. Little more than a minute was spent in each room, as the Prussian was hopeful that, if he manged to cover the first few floors, he'd be able to hurry back down (likely empty-handed) and be able to slip into Roderich's room once more.
Reaching the fourth floor, he declared it the last one he would bother with and began to peer into each of the rooms with vague interest. He'd stumbled upon two music rooms but, much to his disappointment, most held only the larger instruments and there were no signs of another violin. Several studies followed the music rooms, but he paid them no mind; they held nothing of interest.
The room at the end of the hallway, however, was a different story.
It was rather plain in furnishings compared to the others, but something about it gained Gilbert's attention. On the far right in the corner was a chest coated in a thin layer of dust. He lifted the lid with ease, frowning as he shuffled through moth-eaten fabric and clothes. Near the bottom, he found a white box that appeared to be in fairly good condition for the state of the house. He pulled it out and tossed the lid to the side, grinning as he realized it was clothes, clothes meant for a male, which made it all the better. They were white in colour with elegant embroidery; obviously meant for someone slender, and given the length, Gilbert was sure it would fit Roderich perfectly.
Holding his find clothes to his chest, he hurried back downstairs, eagerly making his way forward the staircase the moment he could sense Roderich making his way back up. "Roddy! Look what I found~ Clothes. I bet they'd fit your twig-like figure easily. And they're fancy, too. Should suit your tastes perfectly." Part of him wanted to know just what it was that made Roderich feel the need to go back downstairs, but interrogations could wait for the fire-side when they were finally out of the castle. The Prussian was more than ready to leave, but he kept the want to himself. The brunette hadn't given the order to walk out, and Gilbert would loyally stay within the walls until ordered otherwise. "You should change before you catch something weird from all the shit on yours." Not that mine are any better than his right now...
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