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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 28, 2010 20:23:41 GMT -5
Sometime between Roderich stepping forward to fix his cravat and moving toward the staircase, Gilbert's mind had stopped working. His breathe hitched and stopped as he realized just how little space had been left between them, and he didn't start breathing again until the brunette had stepped backward. The monster in his stomach was purring happily, flipping around and moving about wildly as it happily reveled in how close they'd been mere seconds ago.
"O-of course I look good," he choked, finally finding his voice. "Someone as awesome as me can't look bad no matter what I wear. I make everything work." A grin slid across his face, assuring the brunette that what he said was a joke, even if it was an ego-boosting statement. The monster cooed again as the Austrian's compliment repeated itself in the back of Gilbert's mind. He thinks I look good...
Shaking his head, the albino hurried past Roderich and started down the stairs, taking them two at a time. He stopped just outside the study and turned around, waiting until the brunette was in his line of sight before disappearing into the study. He grabbed an armful of books and settled down on one side of the makeshift bed, popping open one of the covers and looked up. It was Roderich's house after all, and thus, he would wait for the other to join him before starting.
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 28, 2010 21:06:36 GMT -5
Roderich shook his head as the other man bounded past him, the Prussian to all appearances attempting to do his best impression of a puppy. Moving much more slowly behind him, he carefully made his way down the stairs, still not fully trusting them to hold his weight.
What had happened just then? Roderich shook his head as the image of the silverette's crimson eyes danced in the back of his mind, biting his lip. He was confused, completely and utterly confused. Was this what it felt like to be a master? This overwhelming concern and warmth?
With a sigh, he made his way down the last flight of stairs, smiling as Gilbert waited for him before dashing into the next room. There was something about this young man, something that had called to him that first night in the plaza, something that had overridden his own suspicious nature and forced its way into his heart. Laughing self-deprecatingly, he sat down on the opposite edge of the bed and rested his back against the other man's, snatching a book. "Let's see what we can learn, hmm?" [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 28, 2010 21:52:27 GMT -5
"A lot, I'd assume," Gilbert said as he began skimming through the pages of the first book in his hands. It wasn't of much use, more family trees and short writings about people with names the Prussian didn't recognize. None of it seemed to be about Roderich, and he didn't see any of the names he'd committed to memory from the family tree they had happened across earlier. He moved on to the next book and began scanning again, finding it as entertaining as the last. "Then again," he murmured, reaching for his third. "Maybe not..."
As if sensing his doubt, his next book held information that was, while boring to him, proved to be slightly unnerving. Lists and spells for necromantic training and studies filled the pages, and the albino didn't like the number of notes and scribbles he found within the margins and jammed between lines. It was obvious that Roderich's father had been quite serious in looking for a solution to eternal life, and the albino suddenly felt grateful for everything that happened. Had the brunette not wanted to go inside the castle or go searching for his home, it was entirely possible that this man could have succeeded in what he wanted; not that he would have given over a contract easily, especially to a man like the on burned below... but it wasn't a comforting idea.
The fourth book wasn't as nearly kind as the third, and something in Gilbert's stomach twisted painfully. It was a notebook, thick bound and filled with notes. They were organized in a bizarre chapter format, but the more chapters he read, the tenser he felt his body growing. Each one was an eerily detailed accounting of all the towns he'd visited, what he'd done there, and how long he had stayed and where since Frederick's death. The Prussian had always taken pride in knowing that he could easily keep invisible when he wanted, but this was ridiculous. It was as if the man had someone watching his back at all times, and by reflex, his gaze snapped up, carefully examining each corner of the room and all the windows, straining his ears and nose for the sign of any other living creatures near by.
He found none, but his muscles remained locked and he mechanically set the book down in front of him, making a note to destroy it later. He reached for the fifth and was faintly relieved to know it was just another nook on necromancy, but the pile beside him was still large, and it was easy to spot several more journals and notebooks among the many novels. Their presence wasn't comforting at all, and Gilbert felt himself shrinking toward Roderich's shoulder, closing the distance between them and reveling in the comforting touch of the other.
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 28, 2010 22:29:28 GMT -5
Roderich scanned each book carefully, foregoing the printed texts for now in favor of some of the leather-bound diaries and notebooks. His glasses slipped further and further down his nose as he skimmed each page, finger following every line of his father's handwriting. Necromancy, elixirs, spells and rituals were carefully documented with a line-by-line analysis, and in spite of himself, Roderich found himself absorbing every line with increasing interest, committing several of the lines to memory.
Behind him, he heard Gilbert finish with one, then another, but still, Roderich kept his attention on this one book. A part of him was horrified at some of the practices outlined within, but another piece of him, a piece he didn't want to acknowledge but could feel growing with a savage hunger, was morbidly fascinated by this. His heart thudded painfully as he studied them with increased fervor, eyes glinting with a strange gleam in the candlelight.
With a snap, he closed the book without finishing it, taking a deep breath and fixing his glasses. There was something about this magic that drew him on a deeper level, and now more than ever, he wished he had his violin. With his violin, he could play music, beautiful music that would touch his soul and clear any of this corrupting influence away like a bad dream. In the absence of his music-magic, it was almost as if his soul drew whatever was closest.
With a shaky hand, he set that book down in a separate pile and reached for another. An invisible whisper guided his hand, and with a moment's thought, he reached for a red-leather-bound volume, similar to the diary he'd read before. As he opened it to the first page, he almost dropped it upon reading the date.
My son was born today. He shares his mother's violet eyes... so strange for a newborn. I'm led to understand that ordinarily their eyes are blue? No matter. The elven wench who birthed him fled only a few hours later. How did she not die of blood-loss? I must remember to investigate this more thoroughly.
I've named him Roderich -- "famous power." He will be my heir, the inheritor of all my knowledge and power. And then, when he's old enough, I will take it.
There's something about the innocence of a child that has captivated the minds of mages and sorcerers for centuries. The texts I have studied make plain the power hidden within a child. I will train young Roderich, mold him in my image... [/color] Eyes widening, barely remembering to breathe, Roderich skipped forward a bit until he saw his name again. The ritual undertaken to impregnate the elf -- what was her name again?-- was flawless, so why must Roderich persist in not following my commands? Magic fascinates him, obviously so, but he seems to lack the darker power I went through great pains to infuse him with. Maybe it's simply buried within, and I need to draw it out...
Music. I've found the answer. Roderich is captivated by music, all kinds of instruments... though it seems the violin and the piano are his favorites. The boy is five, now... I shall teach him music-magic as best I can, but for now, I will send him away with--[/i] Roderich almost screamed with frustration as he turned the page, only to find that several of them had been torn out. "Who was I sent away with?" he muttered like one possessed. "Who?"The next page was smudged, the ink running from the speed and fury within the writer's hand. He took him! My son! I sent him to teach, and now they've disappeared completely! My best scouts cannot find him, and I am losing hope. I can only imagine that he will return to me in search of the dark knowledge I've locked away in his soul. He can never forget what he knows, I've made sure of it. He carries my legacy, and I will be damned if they take away my hard work.
It is strange. One would think that I would miss him. But I don't. My only loss, it seems, is the lack of a test subject, not the lack of a son. Perhaps this is for the best... after all, I can always capture myself another elf and make another Roderich...Roderich slammed the book clothes, breath coming hard as he finally remembered to breathe. "Damn you, old man!" he cried, face flushing with emotion as he stared sightlessly ahead. "What the hell was I to you?" In a fit of rage, he hurled the diary across the room. His aim was a bit off, and instead of landing in the lit fire, it bounced off the mantel and fell to the ground, pages fluttering like a dying bird.[/sub][/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 28, 2010 23:18:39 GMT -5
Jumping at the sound of book colliding with wall, Gilbert nearly dropped the book he was holding as he turned to peer at Roderich's face. Whatever the other had just read upset him greatly, and while he wanted to know what it was, he saved quickly pushed the urge to pick the book up away. He grabbed Roderich's hand without thinking, carefully lacing their fingers together and giving a small squeeze. The normally romantic affection behind the gesture went ignored as the Prussian gave the brunette a meaningful look, clearly not prepared to release the hand any time soon. Books could be read with one hand, and he wanted to do something that might help keep Roderich calm while he read.
"Are you alright?" he asked gently, closing the book he'd been working on without looking, keeping a single finger inside the binding to mark his page. "We've been at this for an hour or two. Do you want to take a break? I can make tea." He leaned forward, his body moving more on instinct than anything else. Given what had been shouted, Roderich had read something more written by his father, and the monster that had taken it's residence in Gilbert's stomach writhed angrily at whatever it was that had set the other off like that. He hated knowing there was little that he could do to eliminate the pain, but it didn't stop him from trying.
"Whatever that bastard said," he began, pausing in his forward movement to peer into Roderich's eyes. "He's gone... and he can't get to you. Don't let him get inside your head, Roddy... he's just a memory now, nothing more. He can't change who you are or what you do. Don't lose yourself chasing something that doesn't exist anymore..." He tilted his head upward and closed the distance between them, brushing his lips over Roderich's forehead before he pulled back. "Don't lose yourself, ja? I don't need to sleep, so I can keep going all night if we're desperate to get in and out, but don't push yourself over this. We can always take a few with us." The entire time he spoke, his hand didn't move from Roderich's, keeping his grip firm.
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 28, 2010 23:46:16 GMT -5
Roderich squeezed the other man's hand until his knuckles whitened, trying to keep himself from shaking. "N-no, I don't need anything," he answered, voice surprisingly steady, even to himself. "I know he's gone, I know, but--"
Then Gilbert's lips brushed his forehead, and his breath caught in his throat. Staring wide-eyed at the other man, he blinked several times before he found his voice enough to reply. "I... I'm not giving up," he stated, voice slightly hoarse as he raised one hand to his forehead, covering the spot Gilbert had brushed with his lips. "I... I'm fine, really."
That couldn't have been more of a lie. His pulse, already pounding with anger, increased a hundred-fold, driving all thoughts of what he had read into the back of his mind as he stared at those lips, surprisingly warm and full, that had so casually touched his forehead. There was no way the other man couldn't hear his heartbeat, the way it echoed in his ears, pulse rushing through his entire body with increased speed until it was difficult to think. Roderich stared at the Prussian with an expression frozen somewhere between his earlier anger and a deep confusion, mixed with something that could tentatively be called... desire?
Abruptly tearing his gaze away, Roderich steadied his breathing and tried to slow his pulse with little success. Glancing back at the Prussian, his grip tightened on the other man's hand as he leaned toward him, only half-conscious of his actions as he uncertainly closed his eyes and let his lips caress the other man's forehead, so light that it might have been a dream. Leaning closer without opening his eyes, his other hand snaked around to lightly grasp the back of the Prussian's neck, almost sensing where the other man's lips were...
Heart pounding suddenly, Roderich quickly pulled himself away and stood. "I-I-I'm going to make some tea," he sputtered, thoughts racing too quickly to make a coherent thought as he backed away and disappeared through the study door on the way to the kitchen. As he boiled the water over the stove, he leaned against the countertop and tried again to slow his breathing, touching his lips with two fingers. What... was he doing? A brush on the forehead was one thing, but he had almost kissed him...
And he wasn't sure if he was more upset that he had almost done it, or that he had stopped.
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 29, 2010 0:06:40 GMT -5
Wide crimson stared blankly at the empty space where Roderich's face had just been. If his heart had still been beating, he was sure it would have been pounding, adding more pressure to his already painfully tight chest. A large lump had formed in his throat, making it impossible to breathe and he was suddenly grateful for the fact that he didn't need to; he would have fainted otherwise. He tried to swallow, but his body didn't seem to want to listen to the command and he sat completely frozen.
When he'd finally gained the ability to move again several minutes later, the hand which had been clutching Roderich's so tightly before rose, a pale finger tentatively touching the spot where the brunette's lips had touched, before coming to a stop just short of his mouth. His chest clenched painfully again, a sudden rush of disappointment shooting through him as he realized the Austrian had darted away before anything happened. The thought depressed him, and his hand fell limply into his lap, the strength from his arm suddenly draining away.
"Wh-what... just happened?" he whispered to himself, trying to quell his sudden rush of emotions. While human actions weren't exactly a strong point of his, it didn't take a genius to know what had been going on. Gilbert told himself that he was relieved Roderich had pulled away, but his body and mind protested loudly against his flimsy logic and the feeling was crushed. It saddened him that the brunette hadn't finished what he started, and as to the reasoning why....
"Oh..." It was all the Prussian could say as everything seemed to click together all at once. All the things that he had been feeling up until now, the disappointment, the reasoning behind his actions... The answer danced in front of his mind like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but the sudden feeling of elation that came with it was quickly killed and replaced with sorrow. What he felt, what he wanted, and everything he'd been presented with... he couldn't take it. Roderich was a human, he was pure, and Gilbert was dirtied. A foul, ugly creature that wasn't even meant to exist. The brunette was like freshly fallen snow, clean and beautiful, while the albino was blood fallen from a dying creature that stained and ruined the pure white image.
It isn't fair... he thought, biting his lip as his vision blurred and eyes stung. Why? Why of all things... did it have to be a human? Why Roderich? Why...? But he knew. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd known all along. The real reason he'd been so desperate to make the contract, to stay at Roderich's side and protect him from anything that threatened him... and it killed Gilbert inside to know that there was likely nothing he could do about it.
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 29, 2010 0:32:31 GMT -5
Roderich nearly spilled his freshly-made tea as he brought the teacup to his lips, hand shaking with emotion. Forcing himself to loosen his grip on the saucer in his other hand for fear of it cracking, he almost laughed at himself.
What was it about Gilbert that brought out a side of him he rarely acknowledged? First the proclaimed, "young master," aristocratic side of him, then the deeply empathetic part, then the childlike hopeful part, then--
Then what?
Hand shaking, Roderich gave up on the tea and set it with forced care on its saucer, turning and running some cold water to splash his face with. Why did the Prussian make his blood burn and his speech stutter, his mind freeze and his heart pound?
This was wrong on so many levels. Gilbert was his self-proclaimed servant, his friend, the one who kept his going along his path... and Gilbert was, above all else, no matter how Roderich tried to deny it, a vampire, a supernatural creature that his father would have murdered to get his filthy hands on.
Roderich's breath froze in his throat, eyes widening. No, oh no... Like a tendril of dark energy, he tentatively peeked inside his soul, only to find without his music, it was closed to him. What if...
What if this was only his father's influence, digging through him like dark claws? What if he was really just his father's son, trying to gain power by using Gilbert...
Wheeling, Roderich slammed the fleshy part of the bottom of his fist on the countertop with a wet thunk, eyes squeezed tightly shut. "No. No, no, no--!" He punctuated each word with a hit against the countertop, barely feeling the pain. That was impossible. He was imagining things because of what he'd read. That was all.
But he still had to go back and face Gilbert. His cheeks burned as his fingers moved to his lips, feeling a now-familiar rush of heat as he thought of the silver-haired Prussian. Mein Gott...
Forcing himself calm, he stared at his hands until they stopped shaking, picking up his teacup and saucer, making his way slowly back into the room. "L-let's just get back to work," he suggested, setting his teacup down and selecting a book at random. He bit his lower lip uncertainly as he looked at the other man, unsure of if he should add more, then sat and opened the volume.
Every minute or so, he glanced back just to look at Gilbert, as if to reassure himself that whatever he felt was his own, not his father's. [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 29, 2010 0:53:24 GMT -5
When Roderich had re-entered the room, Gilbert turned, watching the brunette with silent, but pained fascination until he'd taken his seat again. He could only nod in silence as the other suggested that continue with their work, and reached for the last book that he'd been in the middle of. It was still nothing more that spells ridden with notes, and he quickly grew bored it it, tossing it into the pile with the other spell-books he'd come across.
Every few minutes, he swore he could feel eyes on the side of his head, and a sudden feeling of paranoia grew. He knew it was Roderich who was staring at him, but that didn't stop the awkwardness that the feeling brought and a sudden urge to want to hide his face, which he was sure was turning red by now. As he reached for a new book, the hand which had been holding Roderich's earlier suddenly moved, carefully and hesitantly extending forward until it had reached the brunette's again, lacing their fingers together neatly before giving a gentle squeeze.
Looking up, he offered the Austrian a faint, but gentle and utterly genuine smile in an attempt to assure the other that everything was alright, that he wasn't sad, nor upset about what had almost happened earlier, it not pleased that it had. He kept his grip loose enough for Roderich to pull away, but part of him was wishing that he wouldn't. He enjoyed the feeling of their hands locked together, and it was one of the few gestures he trusted himself with and could do without fear of causing pain. It was... nice.
His gaze shifted back toward the book in his lap, not really taking in any of it's contents as he waited. He didn't so much as breathe or move, silently praying that his gesture wouldn't be taken as pity or otherwise, and hoping that the other wouldn't pull away. Yet, in the end, that was Roderich's choice. The hour was quickly growing late, and he really would have much rather seen the brunette going to bed, but if he wanted to continue reading, than he wanted it to be known that there was comfort sitting barely more than an inch away. Ich liebe ihn... auch wenn ich nicht sollte. Wenn ich also nicht so tun, auf dass die Liebe... dann werde ich tun, was ich kann, statt.
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 29, 2010 2:28:11 GMT -5
Roderich's eyes skimmed over the pages, but he couldn't discern one word from the next. His eyes kept flicking between Gilbert and then, on the way back, to the book lying abandoned on the floor. That book was the key, but whatever the pages that had been torn out had contained, they were long since lost. With a kind of vain hope, Roderich paged through the piles of loose parchment, but saw nothing vaguely resembling the type of paper or exact style of handwriting as in that journal.
It didn't help that his attention was drawn to the man seated next to him. It was the wary feeling of a drawn bow; all that he was waiting for was for the person on the other end to fire it. Several times, Roderich opened his mouth to say something; but really, what could he say?
The feeling of Gilbert's hand gently touching his was at once so familiar and so unexpected that for a moment, he didn't even register it. Then his eyes widened, and he glanced at the other man to see his smile. Roderich's heart thudded painfully in his chest, a vague, you're leading him on... thought almost making him pull his fingers back...
Then he smiled back and gently tightened his grip. No words were exchanged, none needed to be said. The moment that passed was deeper than words could express. Gilbert's hand in his, Roderich almost felt like he could conquer anything.
Closing his eyes, he let the book fall shut and stacked it haphazardly on one of the others before resting his head against the other man's shoulder. He'd only intended to rest his eyes for a moment, but soon regular breathing and the soft relaxation of his hand against Gilbert's signaled that he had unwittingly drifted off to sleep.
------- orz And now at 3:37 AM, it's time for me to go to sleep, too~ /ded
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 29, 2010 7:19:19 GMT -5
Feeling Roderich's head against his chest sent fresh wave of elation through Gilbert's chest. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but he quickly pushed it back in favour of a more cocky grin that suited his character. He inclined his head forward, ready to make a teasing remark at the brunette for using him as a makeshift chair, but the words were lost as he realized the other was, in fact, asleep. That meant he very likely wouldn't be able to move for the night, as shifting around too much risked waking Roderich, and that was the last thing Gilbert wanted to do now that the other was finally getting some rest.
Reaching behind him with one hand, Gilbert carefully pulled the fabric of his red cloak sideways, carefully wrapping it around Roderich's shoulders in a makeshift blanket. He wouldn't be able to unhook it without both his hands, but he was less-than-willing to pull his own from the other's grasp, no matter how weak it might have gotten. His gaze shifted toward the book in the center of the room and he frowned. It hadn't been touched since it was tossed (with a fairly decent amount of force) at the wall and the Prussian wondered just how bad the contents were to cause such a reaction.
With a slight shake of the head, he raised his free hand in the air and muttered something under his breath, smiling in satisfaction as the small form of what appeared to be an undead cat took shape in front of him. Gesturing to the book, he mouthed the words, 'bring it here' to the creature, who merely blinked in response before rushing off to follow it's orders. After taking the book back, Gilbert smiled in thanks and offered the cat a small pat on the head, before setting the book next to him and returning his necromantic summon to whence it came. I'll look at it tomorrow, he thought, carefully resting his cheek against the top of Roderich's head in, at least what he hoped, was a comforting gesture. If it was enough to send him into a pissed-frenzy, I should as before reading it.
"Ugh," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "He's turned me into a rule-following idiot. How unawesome..." And although he said it, there wasn't a single thought in the Prussian's mind that he actually meant it.
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 29, 2010 14:14:24 GMT -5
Roderich awoke the next morning groggily, blinking up at the mop of silver hair above him. With a wince, he lifted his head from the Prussian's shoulder and massaged his neck, sore from the uncomfortable position he'd dozed off in. "How long was I asleep?" he yawned, covering his mouth with one hand, only just noticing the other man's cloak wrapped around him like a blanket.
Glancing out the window as he untangled himself, he frowned as he saw the sun peeking over the horizon. Only a few hours, then... He grimaced as he rubbed his neck again, then froze as he felt the other man's hand in his. Glancing over, he smiled and lightly squeezed the other man's hand. "I don't know how much more we're going to find here," he murmured, casting a wary eye over the books. "That one, the..." he trailed off and frowned as he looked to where he'd thrown the book, finally finding it on the bed near them. "Did you read it? I think that's the only one that will really apply to me. I'll have to read it more carefully... the rest of these seem like spell books. Did you find anything?"
Reluctantly, he freed his fingers from the other man's hand and stood, stretching his arms over his head. "I'm going to make myself something in the kitchen... are you coming?" There was no hint of the awkwardness from last night, even though he knew there should be, and he smiled at the Prussian as he left the room in the direction of the kitchen. [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 29, 2010 14:28:13 GMT -5
"I didn't read it," Gilbert said with a sigh as he stood up, sighing happily as his back cracked from having not moved all night long. He bent over, grabbing the book Roderich had tossed the night before, as well as the one he'd dubbed a "stalker diary" he found the night previous about his solo travels. "It isn't my business unless you give me permission to make it my business. Awesome knows better than to snoop without permission." It was another excuse that made little sense with the context of the word awesome, and it was being thrown into a sentence out of habit more than anything else (not to say that he wasn't--as he was quite awesome, thank you very much).
He followed the other lazily into the kitchen, noting how warm his body felt compared to other mornings after having played pillow for the musician now moving about the room. He dropped himself into one of the chairs and ran a hand through his hair, knocking the black hat from his head which fell to the floor with a soft 'fwump'. Grunting, the Prussian bend down and grabbed it, handing it off the back of his chair before picking up the diary from before and holding it up for Roderich to see. "This was the only interesting one I managed to find, but it did shit for my nerves. No offense, but your dad has some really screwed up thoughts running through that head of his. He makes it sound out like he was in love with me."
Then again, maybe he was... the thought wasn't at all comforting, but it would have made sense given the circumstances. Though, Gilbert would admit it was more likely that the head of the Edelstein family had probably been in love more-so with what he was, rather than the albino himself. I can't believe someone that touched in the head was his dad... Good to know Roddy didn't turn out the same way. Rubbing his eyes, Gilbert sighed and slumped forward, dropping the book back on the table in front of the chair he'd seen Roderich using last night. He didn't feel like reading it again, and he doubted would make it through the first few pages without wanting to rip it apart. "If you're making tea, make me a cup. No sugar or whatever in it. We don't have beer or coffee and that's the strongest I'll get for a while."
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 29, 2010 15:46:13 GMT -5
Roderich's face lengthened as he prepared the tea silently for the two of them. After reading his father's journal, he doubted if anything written by that man could surprise him. Pouring the tea into two elegant teacups, he set the saucer down and pulled the Prussian's book toward him, offering his own in exchange.
He barely made it through the first page before he started flipping through with growing horror at the meticulous detail contained within. Quickly shutting the book, he glanced at Gilbert, eyes softening as he reached across the table and lightly touched his hand. "And this is all true? He's not making this up, is he?" Disgust roiled in his stomach, in his very blood that he shared with the dead man below. Teeth gritting, he shook his head in an attempt to dismiss his anger. "I'm sorry. We should never have come here."
With a small, almost bitter laugh, he muttered, almost too quietly to hear, "Who would have thought my blood would be so... tainted?" [/blockquote]
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Mar 29, 2010 16:03:01 GMT -5
"And what would have happened if we hadn't come?" Gilbert asked, peering at Roderich from behind the book he'd been handed. "That bastard would still be alive and running wild. He would have continued to pursue me... and if he would have caught up to find you with me... I hate to imagine what would have happened to you." His gaze returned to the diary, reading several more pages before shutting it and setting it aside. The contents did little to comfort his already swirling temper, but once glance at the brunette calmed him down almost immediately and he stood up, working his way around the table.
"When you go looking for the answers to your past... you don't always find what you want. Not everyone has something happy waiting for them and it's more often than not that the world turns around and throws it in your face. But Roderich," he placed a hand on the other's shoulder and leaned forward, cupping his cheek. "You're not your father. I don't give a damn whose blood runs through your veins, where it came from, or what they did." Why can't you see how much I care? How much I DON'T care about what your father did? I'd have you the world in a damn gift basket if that's what you ordered, no matter what it cost me... I hate seeing you like this.
Trying to prove his point, the Prussian leaned forward and pressed his lips to the brunette's forehead again, lingering for several seconds before he pulled back. His hand had yet to leave the other's chin and a firm look danced in his crimson eyes. "You are Roderich Edelstein, you and yourself only. My master and my friend... who saved me not only from the world but myself. Don't compare yourself to filth and trash. You're better than that--even if you are a feminine wimp sometimes."
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