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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Nov 22, 2010 2:08:39 GMT -5
After speaking to Gilbert, Roderich returned to the helm of his ship, staring out the window as the lights from Vienna grew brighter and brighter. It was a beautiful sight; the aerial view of his beloved home city was always his favourite thing to see at any time of the day, but now the vision only filled him with dread. Instructing the navigator where to land, Roderich rose from his wheelchair with a sigh, brushing his fingers over his still-healing wounds. They weren't so bad anymore and he could walk for a decent amount of time before the injuries effected him. He had to be ready for whatever happened; injured or not, he still moved easier without the confines of his wheelchair.
Waiting for Gilbert near the door to the ramp Elizaveta would use to board the airship, the Austrian could not stop fidgeting. He constantly straightened his clothes and brushed his fingers over the sword at his hip and the gun in its holster he'd been talked into keeping on him; they were all nervous actions and he felt nauseous from all the adrenaline pumping through him. He hoped this venture had not been in vain; that everything would go smoothly and no one would be put in danger. Gilbert would meet him just before they landed, Elizaveta and his two messengers would board the ship in the short time the cloaking device was deactivated, and they would be headed to Spain before the Underground even knew they were there. It had to work...
Glancing down the hallway, the brunette felt his frown deepen when he still didn't see any sign of his bodyguard. The Prussian wouldn't be late, he knew, but he needed the silverette's support right now more than anything. Even with all the stress and fear currently flowing through him, he knew Gilbert would help calm him and clear his head. Guilty though he was for keeping the brothers apart, he couldn't help but be anxious for the crimson-eyed man's presence at his side once more. After this was all over, he knew things would be better. There was a tiny part of him that was excited to see his childhood friend once more, too, but that was buried beneath everything else; he was sure that happiness would shine through once she was safely on board.
Clenching his fists to keep from fidgeting, Roderich shifted to look out the window once more. He could see the field they would be descending down into in the distance and he felt his heart in his throat. He was so anxious, he couldn't even tear his eyes away from the sight long enough to see if the approaching footsteps he heard belonged to Gilbert or not.
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I figured the easiest thing to do would be to start a new thread. I'm sorry for my fail. ;;
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Nov 22, 2010 13:55:13 GMT -5
It wasn't until there were little more than five minutes before landing that Gilbert finally rose from his sitting position outside. Crimson irises raked over the land below them, and a small sigh tumbled from his lips. Part of him had wanted to remain sitting on the small balcony with his brother and refuse to join the Austrian at the docking ramp, but the thought was quickly pushed away before he could complete it. "I'll see you in a bit," the Prussian murmured, glancing down at his brother. "Gotta make sure the captain doesn't do something stupid and get himself killed."
Patting his brother on the back, the Prussian slipped from the room the balcony and into the ship. A crew members alerted him that Roderich had been waiting at the dock for some time, and he cursed silently. It was just like the brunette to do something that would only make himself more nervous about something to happen. He didn't like it when the other would sit in paranoia and worry for the worst. After all, he had an awesome guardian; what was there to worry about? It was a small comfort to know that his presence was often enough to calm the other again, but even Gilbert knew, no matter how awesome he was, he couldn't always be there.
Turning a corner, he quickened his pace and sprinted toward the main entrance of the ship. His own concerns with landing were starting to build up in his mind, and the idea of sending Roderich down to the grounds without him at his side was completely out of the question. On the off-chance that someone from the underground or army was there, he wanted to be able to keep the brunette from harm. "Roddy..." The Prussian quickly stepped up behind the nobleman and wrapped his arms around the brunette's waist. "Sorry I was almost late. You should sit down until we land. I don't want the bump knocking you over."
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Post by Elizaveta Héderváry on Nov 22, 2010 14:25:55 GMT -5
Elizaveta had seated herself on the ground by this point, the adrenaline from earlier had left her system, leaving her drained and unable to stand steadily on her still-shaking legs. She hadn’t received an answer concerning how long it would be until the ship came to whisk her away to a life as a wanted woman; did the messengers not know? In any case, the sandy brunette allowed her eyes to return to the sky, searching for any sort of anomaly in the purple-blue, although she knew that Roderich was smarter than to fly an airship in plain sight over the largest and most likely most populated city in Austria.
Elizaveta shook her head and placed her chin on her knees, she was being silly, of course Roderich wasn’t coming to get her in an airship, there wasn’t any technology in this day and age to hide something that grandiose; it would be like wearing a giant light-up sign that said in capitol letters: HERE I AM, TOTALLY SUSPICIOUS AND OUT IN THE OPEN OVER THE LARGEST CITY IN THE COUNTRY. PLEASE SEE ME.
Despite herself the Hungarian giggled at the mental image of Roderich wearing such a thing, although the idea of Roderich being seen and caught sent a fresh wave of fear through the young woman, causing her to draw her knees to her chest. If anything happened because Roderich came to get her she would never forgive herself… he was putting his neck under the blade by coming to Vienna…
Elizaveta shook her head furiously, tugging at her sandy hair in an attempt to calm her nerves, unless one of these men had ulterior motives nothing would go wrong. Roderich wouldn’t send someone he didn’t completely trust to go back and forth between them and, ultimately, lead the aristocratic young man out into the open. And she had prayed to God for their safety as many times as she had time to go to the church and back to her (former) home, that meant something right?
“Minden rendben lesz… Minden rendben lesz…" Elizaveta said comfortingly to herself, tongue going to the language she knew naturally rather than the Austrian German she had been speaking for the majority of her life.
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Post by Ludwig Weillschmidt on Nov 23, 2010 9:17:55 GMT -5
Ludwig had been making quiet small talk with his brother - Gilbert was obviously too tense to discuss much else, and he himself felt both nervous and weary - until the ship began to lower towards a wide open field. Following Gilbert's movements with his gaze, the blond hastily climbed to his feet as well. "Don't get yourself killed either," he added anxiously, concern flashing in his eyes as Gilbert disappeared into the airship. A moment or so later, Ludwig realized he should probably put himself to use too, and left the balcony for the relative warmth of the corridors. Gilbert had already vanished, but Ludwig could hazard a guess at where he'd gone.
First, he decided to return to his room; if Ludwig was going to be any use at all, he at least wanted to be armed. All of his belongings were still as neatly stacked as he'd found them, and taking a small key from one of his pockets, he unlocked the small decorated wooden box. Pushing a few photographs and other mementos aside, he withdrew a hunting knife in a worn leather sheath. It had been some kind of family heirloom, supposedly of utterly symbolic use at this point (no one in the family went hunting anymore) but until Ludwig could get his hands on something more powerful, the knife would have to do. Tucking the whole ensemble in his pocket and reattaching the lock on the chest, he left his room at a sprint.
It would have taken him ages to find the entrance his brother had gone to if not for the fact that all of the crew members seemed to be headed there. Ludwig's shoulders slumped in relief when he spotted both his brother and Herr Edelstein, and when it looked okay to interrupt, he hurried over and did just that.
"Please let me know if there's anything I can do to help," he informed the brunette man. "I don't want to have to wait around if there's anything at all I could be doing." After a moment, Ludwig recalled Gilbert's frustrated rant; Roderich apparently did not like to be the only incapable human on the ship. Ludwig's eyes widened in rather poorly-contained alarm and he tried to remedy what he'd so thoughtlessly said, "No offense meant to your current condition or anything, sir!"
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Nov 23, 2010 11:24:04 GMT -5
It took the brunette several moments to register Gilbert's voice, and when he did he finally turned away from the window. Sighing softly, he shook his head, shifting his weight so he was better balanced. "I'll be fine... it wouldn't inspire much confidence in my crew if they saw me waiting in a wheelchair. I can manage until we get Elizaveta on board. And anyway, there's no way I'll fall," he said quietly. The last comment he'd made was less of a show of confidence in himself and more confidence in Gilbert; he left unsaid that he knew there was no way the Prussian would let him fall.
Crossing his arms slightly, he shifting and moved closer to the door, purposefully obscuring his view of the field as they descended. Shaking hands carefully hidden by his arms, the brunette let out a somewhat shaky breath and tried not to fidget. The sounds of people milling around behind him gave Roderich a sense that his entire crew had turned up to await the arrival of the Hungarian; he'd never expected such loyalty from such a ragtag crew. Of course, he trusted that the men with him didn't want to die and would aide him however he needed, but he had never asked them to be present for this. He felt stronger, somehow, with the support of the men behind him, even moreso with the Prussian at his side.
Cementing his resolve, the noble turned around and cleared his throat; these men were pirates, they didn't want a heartfelt thank you for what they were risking. Instead, he looked around the group for a moment, looking every bit the proud aristocrat he was raised to be. Silently commanding their attention, Roderich waited until he had it before he spoke. "We will be landing in just minutes now. There is no way of knowing whether or not the army is waiting for us, but we must all be on our guard. As soon as we land, draw your weapons in case the enemy is waiting, but you will all remain on the ship unless we are attacked. In the event of an ambush, you will follow my orders and Gilbert's orders; we must act as one in order to be successful against an attack by the army. Is that understood?" Roderich's face flushed with pride as the men cheered their agreement; he didn't think they would be so worked up by something as simple as the mission they were on, but they hadn't seen action in awhile and were probably bored. Still, though, the noble was satisfied with himself and his crew. With a nod, he turned back around to face the door.
It was then that Roderich noticed Ludwig had joined them. Blinking at the blonde's words, the Austrian shook his head and suppressed a smile; the German's careful way of speaking and trying not to offend him was almost endearing. "I take no offense. However, as of right now, all any of us can do is wait. Since you don't appear to be properly armed, please don't put yourself in danger. These men have years of fighting experience, and our enemy is the army elite. I know you don't want to feel useless, but it is my job to keep you safe; if a fight breaks out, do what you can to defend yourself. Otherwise, please just stay safely on the ship."
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Nov 23, 2010 15:44:14 GMT -5
The ship was now little more than a few metres over the ground, and the seriousness of the situation seemed to hit the crew all at once. Weapons were drawn as each member grew tense, ready to strike at the slightest sign of trouble. By the controls, a small but alert looking crew-boy watched Gilbert wearily, awaiting orders. He was a newer member of the crew and very skiddish. From the moment he'd boarded the ship he would shrink away from the other members in fear and he'd yet to adjust to live in the air. Happily, through careful words and hard work, the albino had finally earned the boy's trust but as of yet, the Prussian was the only one he'd listen to.
"Get ready," he called, nodding in the young crewman's direction before turning his gaze back to the dock. "Lower the dock and cloaking device in fünf... vier... deri... zwei.. eins... Now!"
Jumping, the boy nodded and quickly pressed several controls that began to slowly lower the dock. It wasn't until the ramp was completely on the ground that the cloaking device was finally lowered and the ship became visible again. "Move," the Prussian commanded in a low voice, keeping an arm wrapped tightly around Roderich's shoulders for support as he ushered the brunette down the ramp. "Carry her things inside!" he barked at two crew members that had followed them down. "Have Ludwig take you to the room two doors down from his across the hall. She'll be staying there." ------------------ A/N: Sorry my post is weird. It's sort of at a stand-still until Elizaveta gets on the ship, so...
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Post by Elizaveta Héderváry on Nov 23, 2010 22:35:55 GMT -5
Irony, Elizaveta thought, seemed to be in love with her these past couple of days. Roderich disappears, leaving only rumors and theories as to why; she gets letters from the aristocrat describing the situation he was in, the reason he had to flee Vienna. She thinks about leaving her home late at night; and she's told that it's time to go not even five minutes later. She berates herself for thinking about being swept away in an airship; and one literally appears right out of thin air. Although the last one was only partially true.
The arrival of the airship had been forewarned as a strong, unnatural wind kicked up, causing the Hungarian to leap to her feet in surprise and try to keep her hair from obstructing her vision. And then, it was there, a large, grand airship landed right in a field outside of Vienna. The sandy brunette hardly had any time to marvel the sight before her attention was drawn to him. Roderich.
Elizaveta felt tears gather in the corners of her eyes at the sight of the brunette being guided down the ramp by a lean albino man; she hardly even cared who the white-haired young man barking orders was, hardly even noticed as her luggage was picked up and quickly frisked into the belly of the ship. The only things that existed in that moment was Elizaveta and Roderich. Words were blocked from coming out of her mouth by the lump growing in her throat, body trembling slightly from trying not to break down (crying in front of an entire crew of strange men, what kind of first impression would that be?).
Perhaps it was the intensity of the situation her childhood almost-friend was in that lit up such emotions, or maybe it was the fact that even before his manor burnt down they hardly. ever saw each other. Regardless of the reason, Elizaveta found herself rushing over to the man and flinging her arms around him as much as he could with the albino holding him so... protectively?
It was only when a small gasp of what sounded like surprise and pain reached her ears did the doctor loosen her grip and step back. She had felt him wince when she hugged him, she had unknowingly irritated injuries he had sustained. Why didn't she notice it earlier earlier? She had seen countless people with still-healing injuries and how they carried themselves. That was the reason the albino was holding onto Roderich, it had to be.
“I am so, so sorry...” Elizaveta said in almost a whisper. He was hurt, and she was a doctor, her profession came before her feelings. She took a breath before speaking again, “I'd like to examine you once we're safely up in the air,” she said in her best “doctor voice”. Emerald colored eyes shifted over to the albino, his gaze was intense, made even more so by the unnatural red color (would his eyes burn her if she looked too long?). She hastily looked back to the calmer violet eyes of the aristocrat. "If that's alright with you.” Elizaveta finished, addressing both of them. the albino obviously had a protective instinct over Roderich that went far beyond a regular bodyguard, she felt like she should at least make sure her examination was alright with both parties.
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Post by Ludwig Weillschmidt on Nov 24, 2010 9:56:16 GMT -5
No wonder Gilbert got along so well with Roderich: the brunette didn't seem to take offense easily. Well, putting it that way wasn't exactly nice or polite, but Gilbert had a rather overwhelming personality and tended to speak his mind. Bringing his thoughts back to the present, Ludwig nodded solemnly as the nobleman explained that he should stay on the ship. It was probably for the best: although Ludwig certainly didn't want to feel like dead weight on such an important trip, he'd only been in one real fight - a fistfight - and he'd lost that. And while he'd been on the sharpshooting team at college, he doubted that counted as combat experience; targets, after all, didn't shoot back.
Standing aside as Gilbert took command of the operation, Ludwig couldn't help but feel admiration for his brother. The albino man had always been a good leader, even as a child, and it made Ludwig glad to see that his natural talents weren't going to waste. As the ramp was lowered, Gilbert continued to shout orders and from amidst the calls, he caught wind of his name. Nodding alertly to the two men who had carried things inside, he beckoned, "Follow me!" and started off down the hallway. It was kind of Gilbert to give him something to do - he must have known Ludwig would be frustrated with being inactive - but he had to focus completely on the task at hand, as he still knew very little of the airship's layout.
Luckily, his memory served him well: Ludwig found his way back to his own room, although the process took a bit longer than he would have liked. Pinpointing the new doctor's room from that was simple, and soon he and the two crew members were heading back to the entrance to see if more luggage had arrived. To his surprise, a young woman with honey-blonde hair was hugging Roderich tightly, while Gilbert still clung to the other man, a little awkwardly muscled out of the way by the lady. No doubt about it, she had to be the doctor, and she obviously knew Roderich well. Ludwig's gaze lingered on Gilbert after a moment: he'd seemed very protective earlier, and while he felt sure he knew how deep his brother's feelings ran, Ludwig sincerely hoped he wasn't going to lash out at the new crew member for the hug. Shifting out of the way, he waited patiently for a name, taking a little pride in the knowledge that he was no longer the most junior member of the crew, if only by a few hours.
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Nov 24, 2010 13:02:58 GMT -5
Everything happened so fast; as soon as the ramp was lowered and he was ushered down it by Gilbert, all Roderich saw was a stream of his crew going past him, down the ramp to retrieve Elizaveta's luggage. The two messengers, who looked exhausted, climbed the ramp wearily and disappeared inside, presumably to get some well-deserved rest. And then there was Elizaveta herself. He had always thought she was nice to look at, if a bit tomboyish, but she had truly grown into a beautiful woman. Seeing her again, he realized just how much he had missed the Hungarian. He regretted that they couldn't have been better friends in their youth; he had always felt somehow drawn to her in spite of everything.
Before he could even blink again, the Hungarian had run forward and nearly knocked him off his feet with the force of her hug; if it hadn't been for Gilbert holding onto him, he likely would have fallen over. A soft gasp of pain escaped him unwittingly as the still-healing wound in his side was suddenly strained, but it wasn't unbearable. Bringing an arm up, he lightly patted her shoulder blade, feeling somewhat awkward in the embrace. She must have realized he was in pain, because she pulled back and apologized. The Austrian smiled at her, and if it looked forced it was only because he was tired and anxious.
"Don't apologize, Elizaveta. It is... good to see you, again. Besides, you didn't really do anything wrong, I'm mostly healed," he assured her. Tensing slightly when she mentioned an examination, he merely nodded; he almost didn't want her to see his injuries because he knew they would upset the Hungarian. But, this was what they had risked their lives to do; to get a good doctor who would be able to care for them. And if he wanted to get out of the damned wheelchair, he would have to let the young woman treat him. "Of course it's alright; as soon as we're in the air, then. But we should get inside. We can't afford to stand around out here."
As they pulled away from each other, Roderich glanced at Gilbert. The Prussian didn't particularly look welcoming, although he knew it was because the woman who was a stranger to him had suddenly hugged his Master out of nowhere. The noble knew how protective the albino was of him and appreciated it most of the time; he just hoped Elizaveta's show of affection wouldn't sour the possibility for a cordial relationship between the two of them before they'd even met. Turning to head back inside, flanked and followed by some of his crew, Roderich gestured to Gilbert. "I know it seems a trivial time for introductions, but... Elizaveta, this is Gilbert Weillschmidt. He's been my bodyguard for nearly six years," he said, looking between the two. He could tell Gilbert was scrutinizing the doctor, his face oddly serious as he did so. Clearing his throat to try and get the silverette's attention, he gestured back to the Hungarian. "Gilbert, this is Elizaveta Héderváry. I've known her since I was a child," he said in a soothing tone, trying to assure the other man that Elizaveta could be trusted.
Just as they reached the top of the ramp, Roderich heard some of his crew start speaking in hushed tones. Before he could turn to ask what was going on, one of the men behind him gave a yell and tackled him to the ground just as the sound of a gunshot tore through the air. Roderich didn't know what had happened to Gilbert, who had been supporting him; all he knew was that he was in an extraordinary amount of pain from having been pushed to the floor, and the man laying half on top of him was groaning in pain as well. More gunshots rang out and Roderich heard yelling - is that Gilbert's voice? - before he felt his body and that of the crew member who had pushed him being dragged inside.
Luckily, most of his crew was already inside, but his vision was swimming too much to know who had been injured, who was fighting, or where anyone was. He felt hands on his torso, as though trying to examine him; he pushed them away and shook his head; although he couldn't be sure, Roderich guessed the man who had pushed him had stepped in front of a bullet. If that was the case, his wound was more serious. "No... go help the others who have been shot. I'm fine," he murmured, waiting for the pain to subside enough for his vision to clear.
It wasn't long before he felt the ship jerk and rise into the air, although the sound of gunshots from outside didn't cease. Luckily, the ship was reinforced, so the bullets wouldn't do much other than chip paint, but it was still unsettling. Shifting carefully, Roderich pressed a hand over his aching wound and looked around, trying to spot Gilbert. He had heard a few more of his men fall on the ramp, but saw three of them being treated nearby; they didn't appear to have been shot fatally, and for that he was grateful. He didn't know how many had been wounded, however, and was terrified Gilbert had been one of them. "Gilbert... where are you?" Roderich murmured, forcing himself to sit up in spite of the burning in his side. Pressing against it even harder, he grimaced and looked around, finally spotting the Prussian who was rushing to his side. He didn't appear injured, although it was dark and the Austrian couldn't see well enough to be sure. Reaching out for him with both hands, now, Roderich immediately opened his mouth to assure the Prussian of his safety. "I'm fine; a little sore, but fine. The bullet missed me. One of the others got me out of the way. Are you hurt? Is Elizaveta alright?" The noble bombarded the other with questions, too concerned with the well-being of his bodyguard and the rest of his crew to notice the blood staining his hand from where his wound had re-opened when he'd been shoved to the ground.
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...it wouldn't be dramatic enough if they weren't attacked. I tried to leave it open for the rest of you as much as possible. Roderich doesn't really know exactly what happened after he was initially pushed out of the way and dragged inside, so... Gil, Eliza and Ludwig, you can get creative. I'd imagine Ludwig probably saw most of it from inside the ship. I hope everyone is okay with what I wrote. ^^;
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Post by Elizaveta Héderváry on Nov 24, 2010 17:33:57 GMT -5
Elizaveta bit her lip lightly at Roderich's smile; so forced, so... strained. She would have taken it as a personal offense if she didn't know that Roderich was, on top of being hurt, stressed out an anxious. Feelings she could relate to. She nodded when he told her he was nearly healed, but somehow she knew that was only a half truth; said to make the Hungarian feel less guilty. She sighed in relief at his acceptance to her proposal, she wanted, no, needed to know how hurt the brunette was before she could feel completely calm.
"...this is Gilbert Weillschmidt. He's been my bodyguard for nearly six years," Roderich introduced the serious young man at his side. Elizaveta had felt those smoldering crimson eyes on her ever since she embraced the violet-eyed man, like he was trying to burn past her skin and see into her soul; see if she could really be trusted with the precious man before her.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Gilbert," Elizaveta hedged, offering hand out for him to shake and giving him as calm a smile as she could manage. If the albino had any intention to shake her hand, he didn't act on it as he walked back up the ramp, the Hungarian frowning as she followed. The whispers from the remaining four crew members behind her unsettled the sandy-brunette, and it wasn't long before that feeling blossomed into fear.
A gun shot. A single, thundering gunshot cracked out over the field, Elizaveta instinctively covered her head with her hands and ducked slightly, eyes she didn't even realize she had closed snapping open when she started to hear people fall against the ramp; a crew member who had been tugging lightly on her arm in a wordless demand for her to get into the ship wasn't spared from the bullets that had begun to whiz past them. By some miracle (was it God?) none of the bullets hit the sandy-brunette in any vital spots, even as she dragged one of the injured men inside. She heard Gilbert yell something, but at that moment her jumped, frightened mind couldn't comprehend it.
Elizaveta slumped against the wall of the ship, loosing her balance when she ship jerked up into the air, she hissed in pain when she landed on her arm, just realizing that she had been grazed by one of the bullets; the wound wasn't deep enough to be fatal, but still stung all the same. She squeezed her eyes shut ad clenched her teeth as the sound of bullets ricocheted off the thick metal.
Regaining her sense of self, she sat up on all fours and swept her gaze throughout the the dark room, seeing the outline of three men already being treated, the man she had dragged in groaned in pain, re-alerting the Hungarian to his presence. He had been shot through the lung, his breathing was slightly labored as he tried to slow the bleeding with his hand. Shakily, the Hungarian stood and addressed those who were already treating the wounded and the able-bodied members of the crew.
"Anyone who still can, take the injured to the infirmary. Those who have been shot in the chest take priority. Move," she hissed through her teeth, some of the crew moving to obey her command. The man she had dragged in looked up at her before he was carefully scopped up and carried away. Elizaveta worried for his life... and what of there were men closer to death than he?
She turned her attention to the small group of what she guessed was the medical staff. She counted seven of them. "Those of you who are more experienced, follow the injured and treat them to the best of your abilities, the rest of you, stay here so we can access the others who have been shot."
Three of the seven and hurried off after the most injured, the remaining two shakily walking over to the remaining injured crew members. With an enraged cry Elizaveta kicked the wall closet to her; how could something like this happen so suddenly? Was this the extent of how much Roderich was wanted? That crew members would betray him?
Roderich!
Elizaveta looked this way and that for her friend, finding him hunched on the floor near Gilbert (the bodyguard's hair was easy to spot, thankfully) and Elizaveta rushed to the two men, fear bubbling in her chest and biting painfully at her heart. "Are you alright? Did you get shot anywhere?" she asked frantically, running her hands down Roderich's chest to feel for any holes or blood. Her small, slender hand touched the hand Roderich had pressed against his side, squeezing lightly before it traveled down lower, her fingertips touching warm, sticky wetness blossoming from his side. Elizaveta drew her hand back like it had been electrocuted "Your side..." she breathed out, eyes widening; when did this injury happen? How? The Hungarian didn't know how deep the wound was, but the amount of blood seeping from under Roderich's clothes told as much of the story as Elizaveta needed to know.
Her eyes narrowed as she looked to the albino on the other side of the aristocrat, "Don't just sit there!" Elizaveta snapped, "Get Roderich to the infirmary, I'll be right behind you once I'm done here." ----
A little drama is okay with me. It's more fun that way, no?
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Nov 24, 2010 19:44:33 GMT -5
It had taken a great deal of will-power to keep Gilbert from sneering at the Hungarian before him. He didn't no the woman, and thus, had nothing against her, but the overly familiar way that she approached his Roderich after not seeing him for so long made something in the pit of his stomach claw at his insides. Who was SHE to hug his master? Who was she to act so familiar with someone who, as far as Gilbert was concerned, had given up on the brunette. It ticked him off, but showing his distaste would have to late, after all, all it would take was a simple kiss to assure the Hungarian who the nobleman belonged to. "Pleasure, Lizzy. Roddy's told me a little bit about you. If you need anything, just let the awesome me know and we'll make it happen."
And then came the onslaught...
Everything had happened in a blur of colours and shouts. It was as if his body had gone on auto-pilot and started processing actions before his brain could fully understand them. His own voice rang loudly in his ears as crew members darted around the deck, following the orders he was shouting while others worked a line of defense to keep their attackers at bay. Faces flew before his own as he worked furiously to keep the crew members on their toes. Something rushed passed him and immediately he felt his entire body lurch in pain, but at the same moment someone had crashed into him and he thought nothing of it.
It wasn’t until the ship was fully in the air that he allowed himself the chance to calm down. His gaze darted about the various people on the deck as he tried to pinpoint Roderich amongst them. Various people had fallen due to injuries, and he could only hope that the brunette wasn’t amongst them. His heart clenched painfully in his chest when a familiar pair of violet eyes caught his own and he sprinted forward, throwing his arms around the Austrian with a small cry of relief. The questions Roderich asked flew right over his head and he didn’t bother to answer.
“You’re alright…” he murmured quietly, “I…” Trailing off the Prussian suddenly jerked back, eyes wide. The unmistakable smell of blood was wafting off Roderich. It was faint, but something that the silverette had trained himself to recognize. Before he could voice his discovery, Elizaveta had joined their small group and noticed the injury. His lips pulled back in a snarl that he didn't bother to hide as he glared back at the new doctor. "I know perfectly well where he needs to go. Don't think that just because you're an old pal of his and the new doctor means you're suddenly the high-lady in charge. I don't give a damn if you're scared, disrespect me, and I'll make your life here hell."
Standing, he called the boy who had deactivated and reactivated the cloaking device from before as he quickly pulled Roderich into his arms and set him in the wheelchair. "Get the captain to the infirmary. Now!"
The boy in question nodded, eyes wide with terror as he grabbed the wheels of Roderich’s wheelchair and moved down the hallway as quickly as he could. Another member had taken off in a different direction in hopes of finding the Hungarian they’d just picked up. When he was sure that the brunette was on his way to be taken care of, Gilbert felt his knees begin to buckle and he stumbled toward a wall, breathing hard. “S-shit...” Glancing around, he spotted the only person he’d ever known to have blond hair that looked as if it were routinely bleached and moved forward as quickly as possible. “B-bruder… help…” he gasped, reaching out for the younger as his legs finally gave out and he collapsed forward.
As he hit the ground, the outcome of the attack had made itself obvious. Two bullets had embedded themselves into his left shoulder, while a third had grazed his right forearm. Another had managed to hit him mere inches from the top of his spine to the left, and sticking out of his lower back, glistening with his own blood, was a small throwing knife, an off-colour liquid dripping down the handle, making it apparent that the knife had been dipped in something before being thrown. Poison. I can’t… leave like this… No… Roddy… ---------------------- A/N: There is your drama, dramawhores. Mein Gott... Sorry for the rushed second half of the post. I had to rewrite half of it because Elizaveta posted early and I was pressed for time. DX I'll check-in once we get back from the bookstore.
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Post by Ludwig Weillschmidt on Nov 27, 2010 9:47:58 GMT -5
For a few, brief moments, everything appeared as though it would turn out okay. Herr Edelstein welcomed the new doctor, his old friend, and Gilbert had reacted predictably with anxiousness and perhaps a hint of jealousy. The scene, removed from the context of being on the run, had such a quality of normalcy to it that Ludwig couldn't help feeling a little calmer, a little more adjusted.
And then the gunfire had started.
Ludwig had never heard anything so loud in his life, and ducked against the wall of the airship automatically. In front of him, in the line of fire, he could see men falling over; acting almost on reflexes alone, he lunged forward and, grabbing two crewmen by their shirt collars, dragged them out of the way. He could move far forward enough to reach his brother, or the captain, however, and only when the ship gave a violent jerk, launching into the air hastily as bullets ricocheted off the hull outside, did Ludwig stand shakily to his feet and run over to see if there was something, if anything, he could do.
The uninjured crew members were already rushing men off to the infirmary, and the blond glanced around, still feeling rather shell-shocked. The doctor was kicking the wall for some absurd reason, and Gilbert and his boss were down on the floor. Unsure of what to do, Ludwig began helping some of the less injured crew members away from being under foot, helping the men sit up against the wall so that they wouldn't be trampled by the men rushing people to the infirmary. Just as he decided to help carry those most grievously hurt as well, a quiet voice and a thud behind him sent his blood running cold.
"B-bruder... help..."
Whirling around, Ludwig saw Gilbert sprawled unnaturally on the floor in front of him, a creeping red stain spreading across his shoulders; a knife had embedded itself in his lower back. In less than a second, he was kneeling at the other's side, "Bruder!!" The air suddenly felt very thick and hard to breathe; the albino man had obviously been hurt badly, and needed help now-
Picking the other man up carefully and effortlessly and holding him over his shoulder so as not to aggravate the wounds on his back, Ludwig raced off towards the infirmary. Any other day, he would have been out of luck: he and Gilbert had passed it once on his little tour of the airship and Ludwig had no idea where it was, but the stream of injured crew members heading towards it provided the German man with a perfect guide.
Ducking into the room, he spied an unoccupied bed and carefully laid his brother down. He then spied one of the inexperienced doctors the ship had been employing until now (thank heaven that whoever had shot at them had waited until they had a real doctor on board). Grabbing the man by his shirt front, Ludwig pointed to his brother, "This man's been shot several times and stabbed with a dodgy knife - you start working on fixing him now, got it?" Obviously intimidated, the man hurried over, and Ludwig felt himself wanting to linger, wanting to make sure that nothing went wrong. He knew he was being selfish for commanding the doctor's attention when so many people were injured, but as far as he was concerned, Gilbert had gotten the worst of it and needed help.
Unfortunately, Gilbert was far from the only injured victim, and Ludwig (regrettably) knew that as one of the uninjured crew, it was his job to help everyone else. "Gottverdammt," he muttered under his breath, holding a hand to his forehead, before turning to glare at his brother. "You'd... you'd better be alright when I come back!" With that, he spun on his heel and ran out of the infirmary, racing back to the scene of the attack. On the way there, he met up with the new doctor - obviously on her way to treat the captain. "They need your help in there badly," he got out between panting for air, "go! I'll get everyone who was hurt up there as soon as I can!" Without waiting for an answer, he dashed away, back down towards the door.
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OOC:: Waugh, a little sloppy, sorry for the long wait! I was excited to jump in on the drama.
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Post by Elizaveta Héderváry on Nov 27, 2010 20:30:01 GMT -5
Had Elizaveta not been known for having a short temper, she would have been a good little nurse archetype and not responded to Gilbert's sneer and comment. She was far from being that passive, however.
“What the hell is your problem?” The Hungarian demanded, scowling at the man across from her. “ For the record: I wouldn't care if you were Roderich's bodyguard for his entire life; don't act like I personally offend you just by being close to him! He's precious to me, too!” On another note; where was Gilbert when the crew was laying scattered around the floor, injured and slowly dying? He had run straight to Roderich like a puppy too afraid to leave his master's side for too long. Elizaveta would have voiced this if she wasn't so distracted when the albino lifted the aristocrat into his arms, putting the aristocrat in a wheelchair and beckoning a young boy --looking no older than nineteen-- to take the captain to the infirmary. Elizaveta shook her head and stood up, joining the remainder of the medical team in examining the crew that remained in the room. Thankfully there was a good portion of the crew who could be treated by hand; no matter how inexperienced they might be.
Something tapped on her shoulder urgently and Elizaveta looked to another member of the crew, a young man in his early twenties that had helped transport the seriously wounded.
“We need your help in the infirmary, the medical staff are doing fine for now, but the situation might get worse if someone more experienced isn't there.” The crew member explained, the sandy-brunette pursed her lips together, removing anything bullet sized or smaller from body tissue was difficult; especially if the bullets broke in half. If any of the others needed help, they could call her. Nodding, Elizaveta stood up and followed the crew member, the man with slicked blond hair was still checking on the remainders by the time she was led out of the room and down the hall to the infirmary.
Not even a minute after she had left, did that same blond man rush past her, carrying an unconscious and clearly injured Gilbert over his shoulder; a sight that made her insides twist. If a clearly arrogant man like the albino needed to be carried, then it was serious, the drops of blood dripping from his wounds served as an indicator as well, causing the doctor to break out into a light sprint nearly running into the tall blond, as he came from the opposite direction.
"They need your help in there badly," he began breathlessly, those words making Elizaveta's inside twist even further. She hadn't expected it to be so bad they urgently needed her help... "go! I'll get everyone who was hurt up there as soon as I can!" was all the Hungarian could catch before he dashed down the hall again.
“Damn it...” Elizaveta cursed, biting down harshly on her lip as she hastily moved into the infirmary, tying her hair back into a knot at the nape of her neck. There was only a single doctor working on Roderich, the aristocrat's clothes pulled away so clean gauze could be pressed to his wound to stop the bleeding. From the lack of any sort of exterior bullet wound on his clothes, it just seemed like one of the brunette's old injuries had been irritated to the point of re-opening; ripped open stitches perhaps?
Whatever the cause for Roderich's injury, Elizaveta's focus was more on the bed in front of her and slightly to the left. Two doctors hovered over the injured man, --Gilbert-- and were preparing to properly begin treating him. The front of his coat had been cut as the two slowly lifted the injured man to fully take of the garment and apply gaze to his back to stop the bleeding.
As she approached the bed, she noticed a small, bloodied knife on the small metal tray next to it. Something about the blade was off, the color of the blood... she would have to look into it once Gilbert had been treated.
“Report,” Elizaveta said sternly, walking around the bed and to the medical sink, washing her hands before pulling on a medical mask and a pair of rubber gloves; not even bothering to dry her hands properly.
“Two bullets in his left shoulder; we don't know for sure if they've hit bone or not. One bullet went all the way through, just barely missing the top of his spine. There was a small knife coated in an unknown substance in his lower back. His frontal injuries seem more severe, so we decided to begin there.” One of the doctors explained, obviously trying to keep his voice steady. The stress must have been terrible on the poor man, Elizaveta thought with a frown as she approached the bed.
“We need to move him to an operating table to give us a more stable surface,” one of the two caring for Gilbert nodded and rushed to get the requested object. “Has his shoulder been injected with anesthetic and sanitized?” Elizaveta continued, picking up a scalpel, inspecting the blade in the overhead light.
“Yes ma'am, of course. We also used some to put him to sleep although...” the doctor looked uncertainly at Gilbert's face, “He's so far gone, he might not have even needed that...” He finished, folding Gilbert's bloodied coat over his arm and putting it aside. It was clear Gilbert was pretty unconscious, but him waking up during the surgery would be problematic.
“Alright, in the mean time before we get our table, let's do what we can. I'll need you to hold a light over the incision once I make it,” Elizaveta said, lowering the tool to one of the bullet holes. “The faster we get the bullets out of the tissue, the better it will be for him.” Emerald eyes looked up from the pale, lean body to the brown ones of the man across from her. He nodded shakily and Elizaveta turned her eyes back to her work, making a slow, deep and steady cut across the bullet hole.
Hopefully it wouldn't be any more complicated than removing a few bullets, suturing, and hooking the mercenary up to an IV if it was necessary. ---
I love acting like I know what I'm typing about! : D All my medical knowledge comes from the internet, Discovery Health and Trauma Center, lol
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Dec 6, 2010 12:35:11 GMT -5
Roderich was far from being in the correct state of mind to listen to Elizaveta and Gilbert argue; now was not the time. Not with so many injured people around them. Absently, he wiped the blood off his hands from where his stitches had ripped and frowned, opening his mouth to ask the two of them to focus on the more important tasks of getting the injured help instead of arguing. Before he could speak, though, Gilbert picked him up and he made a soft sound of pained protest, his arms shifting to wrap around Gilbert for balance briefly before he was gently set down in a wheelchair. "Wait, Gilbert, this isn't necessary, I-" the Austrian's words were cut off when the boy began wheeling him down the hall, following Gilbert's orders instead of listening to his injured Captain's protests. It was probably a wise decision, but in the heat of the moment, it just annoyed the aristocrat.
The brunette was wheeled into the infirmary quickly, and he was disheartened to see how many of his people were injured... it had been his fault. He should have had them stay on the ship... maybe he shouldn't have returned to Vienna at all and had Elizaveta meet them somewhere else. He was their Captain; he would take responsibility for his men. In the most authoritative tone he could manage in the midst of his regret-fueled musings, Roderich instructed the boy to wheel him to one of the cots in the back, so he would be out of the way of everyone else. They would all receive treatment before he did; his wound had healed enough to where he was just bleeding moderately. As long as he bandaged it and kept pressure on the wound, he could wait for stitches.
Happily, the boy was eager to please, and followed Roderich's instructions without argument before going off to help the others. Leaning forward to reach the cart of medical supplies next to him, Roderich noticed there was blood on his hands. Blinking, he paused for a moment in confusion; hadn't he wiped the blood off before? And there had only been blood on one of his hands; now, both hands were stained red. Panic set in for a moment as he began checking himself for other wounds, believing he had been injured again and somehow hadn't realized it. But when his search revealed nothing, the panic turned to dread; the only way he could have blood on his hand would be from touching someone else, and the only other person he'd touched had been- "...Gilbert."
Snatching a package of bandages hastily and pressing it to his side, Roderich stood with a grimace and turned around, intent on finding his bodyguard and dragging the Prussian into the infirmary to be examined. Why would he send me here for something so minor when he has injuries too!? the Austrian wondered frantically, side-stepping nurses and doctors as he slowly made his way to the door. Fortunately, he wouldn't have to leave the infirmary to find the Prussian; seconds after he turned around, Ludwig entered the room, his injured brother slung over his shoulder. Frozen in place by shock, Roderich watched as the silverette was carefully laid down on one of the cots. The blonde instructed the staff to help his brother immediately before he hesitated, said something to Gilbert, and left, presumably to go help the others.
Transfixed, Roderich barely realized he was walking forward as he watched the doctors and nurses get to work on the Prussian. The rest of the medical staff was so focused on their patients they hardly noticed their Captain walking forward toward Gilbert's bed. The Austrian froze in his tracks as he watched them remove a dagger coated in blood and something viscous from the silverette's back. Something in his stomach churned and he had to choke back the urge to vomit at the sight of the weapon being pulled from the other man's back. Covering his mouth and glancing away for a moment, the brunette realized he was mere feet away from the far side of the table, though he was not so close that he would be in the way. Elizaveta entered the room shortly after, but didn't notice him, too focused on the injured man in front of her to pay attention to anything else.
Roderich remained still and silent as he watched the doctors work until Elizaveta brought a scalpel to one of Gilbert's wounds and began cutting. Gasping softly at the sight, he turned his head away, feeling squeamish again. One of the nurses nearby heard the sound and went to his side. "Captain, you're injured, what are you doing here?" the woman asked, concerned. She noticed, then, that Roderich had been staring at Gilbert and she sighed. "We're doing our best for him, but you need to at least sit down. I'm the least experienced, so I'm just assisting. I'll keep you updated." Gently the woman moved her hand down to press against the bandage at the Austrian's side, where his fingers had nearly slipped away from the white fabric. "Let me bandage this for you properly. You don't have to move, I can do it right here. Then I'll get you your wheelchair. You can sit here if you would like; it's out of the way and you can still see. But you shouldn't do anything more to aggravate your injury. I'll stitch you back up soon, alright?"
The woman worked on bandaging Roderich's side as she spoke, working quickly and efficiently so that the Austrian hardly realized what she was doing. Pulling his gaze from the Prussian once again, Roderich's eyes softened at her kindness and understanding before he nodded. "Thank you," he whispered, shifting to allow her to finish bandaging his side before sitting in the wheelchair once she brought it to him. The nurse hovered for a moment before offering him a shaky smile and darting off to go help the others. Sitting back in his chair, Roderich watched Elizaveta grimly, waiting for the nurse to bring him what news she could.
What could have been minutes or hours passed before someone broke Roderich's concentration; this time, it was the co-pilot of the airship. The man was breathless and frantic, his face white. "Captain... we're being followed by Austrian army airships. They're a distance away, out of range, and we're faster, but... sir, the cloaking device is malfunctioning." Going rigid in his chair, Roderich tore his eyes off Gilbert and studied the man's face; he needed to be a Captain, now, not the frightened aristocrat he was.
"Find Ludwig Weillschmidt; take him to the control room and tell him everything you know about the cloaking device. I want you to assist him; do whatever he needs. If the pilot needs you, then assign someone else, but make sure he has someone to help him," he ordered as calmly as possible. "As for the airships following us... just make sure we stay ahead of them. Change our course South to throw them off. Once we get the cloaking device, we need to detour back to Switzerland for full repairs. Do what you can; I'll be there shortly."
The man nodded and ran off to find Ludwig, and Roderich remained frozen in his wheelchair. The fate of his airship and it's crew rested in the hands of Ludwig and Elizaveta, now. It was their expertise that would save them.
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*DEEP BREATH* I POSTED ;A; I'm sorry it's late.
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Post by Ludwig Weillschmidt on Dec 7, 2010 9:30:30 GMT -5
By the time the last injured man had been ferried safely to the infirmary, Ludwig had lost count of how many trips he'd made to and from the entrance ramp. Leaning against the wall with his hands resting on his thighs as he caught his breath, the blond's eyes slid to the door of the sick room; he'd been sneaking glances inside whenever he could, but hadn't been able to see Gilbert through the mass of doctors surrounding his bed. It wasn't a reassuring sign, and Ludwig felt his stomach do a sickening little flip at the thought of losing his brother so soon after meeting up with him. He tried to reassure himself: Gilbert was tough. He had made it through his captivity with the Russians, hadn't he? And he had certainly been injured before. But no matter how desperately Ludwig clung to his own naivete, the glaring reality was that Gilbert's wounds looked severe.
Even Roderich was worried; Ludwig could see through the infirmary window that the captain had stood up to try and get a better look at the silver-haired man, though a nurse quickly escorted him back to his own bed. As desperately as Ludwig wanted to check on Gilbert as well, he knew he'd be getting in the way of the doctors, and distracting them might mean the difference between not only his brother's survival or death but those of the other injured crew as well. Unhappy, worried, and exhausted, Ludwig trudged back towards the wall, planning on waiting there until he heard some news. He hadn't been sitting there for but a minute before he heard his name being called - albeit by an unfamiliar voice.
"Herr Weillschmidt!" Ludwig jerked his head up, finding some a crew member in front of him. "Orders from the captain, sir!" the man reported smartly. "We're being pursued and the airship's cloaking device is malfunctioning-" Despite his weariness, the blond's eyes snapped open at that: it had been a top priority, and he wished he could have examined it thoroughly when circumstances weren't so dire...
"Where's the control room?" he asked, pulling himself away from the wall, and soon he was jogging after the other man, trying to take in the information the other was relaying him about the system. "It's a system of mirrors and electro-magnets," the man explained, in a tone of voice that wasn't too reassuring. "As far as I know, the magnets create some kind of low power field around the surface of the ship, and the mirrors bend light along the field to render the craft nearly invisible. I think."
They arrived in the control room and, as the crew member pointed out the main controls for the cloaking mechanism, Ludwig couldn't help feeling a little awed. The controls themselves were simple, but from behind them, a web of pipes and valves extended, disappearing into the walls of the airship. Approaching the machine, Ludwig shut his eyes, trying to focus, and to his surprise, his ears caught something: amidst the din of hissing steam, there was an obvious hollow silence, a missing note in a musical piece. Ludwig moved around until he picked out the specific pipe: this close, above the din, he could hear a steady weak wheezing noise reverberating from the metal.
"The pipes drive the steam into pistons to be converted into electricity, right?" the blond asked to no one in particular: it was how he envisioned the system. "This one's got a leak, so it's not supplying the energy, and the field is breaking." Normally, it might have taken days to find the leaking pipe, but Ludwig had an idea. He'd heard the bullets bouncing off the hull, so logically the first place to start looking would be the one area where those damaging shots had gotten in.
"You've got welding equipment?" The crewman nodded in affirmation. "Find it, and meet me by the entrance ramp, the one where everyone got hurt, please," Ludwig asked, and the man was off. Picking up the toolbox, Ludwig marched down towards his goal. He could focus on this new purpose, the worries about his brother and everything else drifting off to the side of his thoughts. As he neared the now firmly-shut door, he could hear what he hadn't been able to hear before: a faint, damp hiss. Finding the offending bullet hole was simple enough, but what happened next wasn't really - at least in the moral sense of things.
"Sorry, Herr Edelstein," Ludwig apologized quietly under his breath, casting a guilty look at the fine wall behind which the damaged pipe rested. Then he picked up a claw hammer and began hacking viciously at it, tearing apart wood and plaster and paper until he'd made a nice big hole through which to work. He could already hear the man returning with the supplies and silently vowed to do as clean, as thorough, and most of all as quick a job as he possibly could, not only to help them escape but also so that he might be back in that infirmary corridor soon, just in case.
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ooc:: I am not good at science! I hope this explanation works!
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