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Post by Miloš Jovanović on Jul 16, 2012 21:20:36 GMT -5
The world was blurry before him when he opened his eyes again, the agony in his body hitting him like a wave seconds after, making him groan in pain. Milos didn't know how long he'd been unconscious; it felt like it had been a while, but judging on the dust still in the air it could only have been a few seconds. It was then he heard the sound of someone else entering the box. He turned his head wearily to see who it was, but couldn't get a clear view with his vision still blurry and the lights off.
When the man leaned down and grabbed his arms behind his back, making him yell out in pain as his fucked-up shoulder and most-likely broken arm were twisted and pinned, he knew he was now in serious Deep Shit. But for the moment all he could focus on was the pain in his body and the voice shouting at him. He made out something about the bombs which even in his agonizing pain couldn't help but make him smirk.
However, he hissed when his back was pushed against, darkly wishing in that moment that he could do something to cause this man (military most likely) the same amount of pain he was in, but even he knew right now that was impossible. Instead he spoke hoarsely. "Like... I'd tell some military scumbag like y-" The building shook terribly, cutting him off as the world seemed to rumble around them. He could hear more chunks of marble break loose as the building seemed to groan with the burden of keeping itself up.
Regardless, Milos used that small window of opportunity as the military man's grip slipped and he broke his hands free, ignoring the pain that caused by aggravating his injury. He scrambled away, attempting to stand up, but had misjudged how injured he was, when he felt a sharp pain in his chest making him stagger. Somehow he managed to keep upright however, and he looked up peering through the dark at the other man's red eyes. "This assuming... I even set those bombs, I wouldn't tell you, demon." He spat on the ground giving him a weary sardonic grin. He knew he wasn't going to get out of this, unless... Milos looked at the ground looking for his gun ignoring any reply.
He spotted it by the feet of demon-eyes and looked between the two, wondering whether he could get it in time. Deciding it couldn't get much worse than this he dove for it, any noises he made by his clumsy landing muffled by the sound of one of the bombs by the main entrance going off. Still ignoring the man above him he reached for the gun.
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Post by awesome on Jul 26, 2012 12:30:58 GMT -5
Gilbert could give this bastard some points (He wasn't going to though. Fuck him.) for being able to sass him even after that obvious cry of pain. The albino was very sure one of the arms he had a vice on was not bending in a normal, unbroken way. He cursed colorfully as it seemed another fucking bomb went off causing the building to reverberate and his body to lurch forward. Quickly recovering, he watched the lone live bastard he was sharing the box with, cursing himself for letting him wriggle free.
Watching the other with a weary eye, the military man snorted as a mean grin spread across his face. "Demon?" It wasn't a new one, and in a situation like this, it was one he was very okay with. "I'll be the demon that drags you to hell if that's what it takes to get rid of bastards like you."While Gilbert's eyes were often one of his greater weaknesses, he couldn't stand terribly bright light, he adjusted to the dark much better than most, able to see a bit clearer.
So he could easily see the sneer plastered on his enemy's face; the little light still present showing off his pearly whites. He stayed focused on him, watching him pace and wobble nervously looking for something. Taking note of when the other's gaze locked onto something next to his feet, Gilbert allowed his own gaze to flick down, quickly realizing what was about to happen as he took note of the gun there.
Even as yet another bomb went off, the albino reacted instantly to the other lunging toward him and the weapon by this feet. "Wrong fucking move, Scheißekopf!" Whipping his leg out, his boot met the other's face with an ugly crack, successfully knocking him away from the gun. Scooping down, Gilbert grabbed the weapon and aimed, firing what he meant to be a warning shot, but found he hit his target as yet another cry of pain torn through the air.
His rage bubbling up, ready to spill, the albino moved in like a predator on his wounded prey. "Die Schwanzlutscher like you that make this city so fucked up. You think you're doing some kind of good. Claim you are, but you're just a bunch of god damn terrorists getting some kind of disgusting high by destroying innocent lives!!" Digging his heel into the fresh wound, Gilbert snarled, pointing the gun at his still good shoulder in warning. "I'd kill you if it'd do me some good, but if we survive however many more are bomb are left, you're more use to me alive." Since he had made the effort to lock the two corpses in here and murder them himself, the albino was more than sure this box was not rigged to explode and was more than content to hold the murder here until the backup he was sure was close reached them. He'd make sure to not let this bastard die, even if he really wanted to do otherwise.
Scheißekopf - Shit head
Die Schwanzlutscher - cock suckers
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Post by Marko Iliev on Jul 26, 2012 19:29:26 GMT -5
So it was the military, after all. Of course; who else was stupid enough to have remained in the building? It was part of their job in situations like this, after all. Marko's eyesight had never been the best, and in the poor light he was struggling to make sense of what was exactly going on in the locked box. The best he could do was listen in on what was happening, and work with that. His gun was drawn, but as he couldn't tell which was Milos and which was the military officer, there was no way he was going to fire anywhere near the outline of the moving bodies. A couple of warning shots to the side of the box would be enough distraction; he was hidden behind the barrier of the balcony, and if the military man's attention was sufficiently caught by the gunfire, it could buy time for an escape.
And that was just what he was going to do, when another bomb exploded, shaking everything. Marko gripped the top of the balcony for balance with his free hand, the gun nearly dropping out of the other. Unfortunately, whilst he kept ahold on his weapon, the strain on his already pained leg, as well as the strength of the tremors, was too much for him. He had to release his grip on the balcony and drop on his side to the box floor, hearing the entire opera house croak under the damage dealt to the structure.
Rolling onto his back with a wince, he opened his ears when the conversation nearby became audible to him again, picking up on Milos's voice, "...I wouldn't tell you, demon."
'Demon'? Perhaps it was a bad time to do so, but Marko felt like he had to put two and two together, whilst he moved to crawl back onto his knees, the sound of another of the bombs filling his ears once more, then. The image of the white-haired man he'd watched walk into the building's foyer earlier came across his mind all of a sudden, and he didn't want to jump to conclusions, but he had a suspicion that the military man present was Gilbert Beilschmidt. Which meant that the girl with him had – most probably – been Lili Walser, his younger cousin. Remembering his encounter with her at the museum, that nasty twitch of guilt hit him in the chest for a moment. The poor girl; if she hadn't been scared of bomb attacks already, she must have been, now.
With that thought in mind, Marko paid little attention to what the military man was saying once the bomb noise had quelled, only taking notice of the fact that it certainly sounded like what he remembered Beilschmidt sounding like. Now that he thought about it, anyway. At the very moment when he managed to get himself crouched back down behind the barrier, ready to peer back over the edge and take aim once more, there was a cracking noise, followed by a gunshot and an outcry – all three of which sent grim shivers down his spine. He flinched, but gazed over the edge and readied the gun once more, squinting towards the side of the locked box and attempting to calm his nerves that were about to get the better of him at that moment.
"Die Schwanzlutscher like you that make this city so fucked up." He heard Beilschmidt say. "You think you're doing some kind of good. Claim you are, but you're just a bunch of god damn terrorists getting some kind of disgusting high by destroying innocent lives!!"
'I wish it were that simple', Marko thought to himself, taking aim.
"I'd kill you if it'd do me some good, but if we survive however many more are bomb are left, you're more use to me alive."
With that, his finger pulled the trigger; the first bullet ricocheting off the side of the locked box ahead. One. He inhaled a breath and pulled again, the next bullet following the tracks of its precursor. Two. He leapt off his good leg and towards the doorway to his own box, firing once more for good measure. Three.
Ailing as he was, hopping over the balcony edges to get to them was going to take too long, and be too dangerous – that, and Beilschmidt was probably expecting someone to come hopping over them now he'd made the initial shots. Marko moved as fast as he could to the door he'd bolted earlier on, rummaging within his inside pockets for the key (he hadn't thrown it away, in case he had made an error with the lock... Or for aiding in situations like the one that was happening then and there). He hooked his gun onto an outer pocket, meanwhile, to free both his hands for the task. Exhaling in relief when he felt the cold metal in his fingers, he yanked it out and slipped it into the lock, turning it until it clicked open. After shedding the handles of the chains, he drew in another deep breath, and burst through into the box.
He didn't need to pause too long to take in what he could see now – clearer than before, but still a pain to make out any details. All he knew was that Beilschmidt was standing over Milos, and was armed, and Marko knew that timing was crucial, now. One second too late, and the military man would have known he was there, and that might have just been the difference between overpowering him, and getting a bullet to the head or chest; what could well have been the fine line between life and death. Marko focused his weight onto his good leg, set his eyes on Beilschmidt, lowered his head and – in what was more of a leap than a sprint – charged like a bull at the man, launching him towards the edge of the balcony.
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Post by Miloš Jovanović on Aug 28, 2012 22:03:37 GMT -5
Everything hurt. Even his ego hurt, and it took a lot to damage that. But of everything his back currently hurt the most because, holy shit, that demon-eyed bastard had shot him! Everything had happened lightning-fast. Milos had lunged for the gun, but the other man had kicked him in the face and he had fallen back only to hear the crack of the gunshot and moments later the fierce pain of being shot in the back. When he felt a boot grind into the wound he felt yet another burst of pain, making him grit his teeth.
The words the demon was yelling at him he barely even heard, his mind swimming with trying to juggle the screams of pain from various parts of his body, his thoughts of how he could escape, and just trying to stay conscious. But one thing he could figure out even in his state was that he was screwed. He had been caught by a military scumbag and he was sure to be tossed in jail. They'd probably try and pump him for information, torture him if they had to. He'd heard the stories. But he wouldn't say a goddamn word, he'd sworn it to himself long ago when he'd first started this job.
In the midst of his thoughts he heard three more gunshots in succession ring out in the booth. For a few seconds he thought he might have been shot again, but when he felt no knew pain he knew that wasn't it so he was left puzzling over what that had been. It was only when the doors to the booth opened that he recognized that Marko had come back. In the dim lighting he saw him charge at the demon-eyed military man and realized that after all this he might be the one owing Marko shots of rakija.
When Marko pushed the man away he managed to take a breath and quickly re-evaluated his options. He knew he was running purely on adrenaline at this point, and so he'd make the best of it that he could, while he still could. So, using the opportunity Marko had given him he slowly pushed himself up with his good arm, ignoring the pain in his back, and managed to get himself to his feet; at least they still worked. But once he was up he lost his balance and stumbled forward, dizzy from blood loss. Milos managed to catch himself against the wall and steadied himself, but he realized he wouldn't be getting out of here by himself, so as much as he hated to admit it, his escape depended on Marko That wouldn't stop him from trying though, and if he was anything, he was stubborn. Using the wall as support he started walking towards the open doors, focusing on getting out.
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Post by Lili Walser on Sept 10, 2012 0:59:41 GMT -5
Though the crowd had mostly dispersed, not wanting to be anywhere near the building that could have been their grave when it actually fell, Lili Walser stayed put, standing under one of the gaslights that remained lit. The electricity had gone off after one of the bombs... each subsequent roar and rumble and blast and creak and groan of the building had her clenching her hands tighter. No one was coming out any longer... no one was left inside, it seemed... so... so why, then, hadn't Cousin come?
Tante had gone after an argument with Lili. She'd ordered her aide to bring the girl along forcefully, if need be, and Lili had, quite calmly for the circumstances, pulled her small handgun from her bag. She planned to stay here, and wait and watch for Cousin if it was the last thing she did. She couldn't go through any bit of time not knowing, wondering and waiting... if he managed to make it to the door and then couldn't come farther... she couldn't live with herself if... if... there still might be something she could do.
So, she stayed, and waited, and watched, and worried.
The building was swaying, it seemed... or was that her? Her stance, as the minutes crept onward, was less and less sure, was more unsteady. She soon wrapped an arm around the lamppost, pressing her cheek to the cooler metal as she stayed. She'd stay until the last bomb had gone off... til the building had fallen... til she'd begun to dig through the rubble herself and damn her noble status... or until her cousin came back to her. She hadn't been able to do anything for Mutti and Vati and the dozens of other people that had died that day... but she was here now, and she'd do anything and everything, give anything and everything, so that Gilbert would walk out those doors in one piece.
He had to... She... He just had to.
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Post by Ludwig Beilschmidt on Oct 3, 2012 17:46:35 GMT -5
Once in a long while, there arrived a rare day where Ludwig finished everything he wanted to accomplish before midnight and found himself with some unusual and precious free time. Having cleaned and locked up his shop, he'd shouldered on his long coat and decided to walk home as opposed to taking any kind of bus. As opposed to how greasy it felt during the day, the night air seemed cool and fresh, and Ludwig didn't regret his decision for a minute until he rounded a corner and saw the city's opera house had flames licking out of the windows.
Momentarily frozen in surprise, Ludwig quickly moved in to get a better look, especially because there didn't seem to be much of a crowd around the building. He learned he'd been wrong; a crowd had indeed gathered, but everyone was staying well out of the way of the building. Perhaps nobody was inside, Ludwig mused, and they had all just gathered to watch the place burn. Even though he had no patience for the opera, the thought made him sick. The building was beautiful in its own right, and shouldn't be left to inevitable destruction. As he continued scanning the scene, he did a double-take: his eyes had found a familiar figure standing under one of the gas lamps. Ludwig hurried over, shoving his way past the bystanders who blocked his path.
"Lili!" he called out, and trotted to a halt right next to the girl; she looked positively frightened, but was staring at the building with a determined face. "What's going on?" he asked, following her gaze to the main doors, then upwards to the roof, which almost appeared to be slanting a little. "Why is the opera house on fire, what happened?"
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Post by Lili Walser on Oct 4, 2012 1:10:06 GMT -5
Why hadn't he come out yet? Why hadn't Gilbert come back? Was he ever going to --No! She wasn't--she couldn't think like that. He was just... he was... he was making sure that no one else remained. That was all. That had to be it. It couldn't be anything else--
"Lili!"
That voice. Lili whirled, taking her eyes away from the Opera house for the first time in many minutes. "C-Cousin Ludwig!" Without warning, she threw her arms around him, clinging to him for all she was worth. But she wouldn't - couldn't - cry here. Crying would mean that she was giving into despair. She wouldn't. Cousin Gilbert would walk out those doors any second now and spare her the trouble of having to explain.
But he didn't.
"W-we were... th-that is... I... T-Tante Agnes and Cousin Gilbert and I w-went to see the opera, this evening... a-and e-everything was n-normal. B-But then a... a... a b-bomb... s-something-- explosions... th-there've been too many to c-count." She paused, shivering, looking back toward the opera house with haunted eyes, though she didn't loosen her grip on her cousin. "C-Cousin got us out... a-and then he w-went back in... th-the military... h-he had to help the others. I... I... I c-couldn't leave like he told me to... I c-couldn't... I... h-he hasn't come out and there aren't any others coming and- and- and-" But she had to stop talking. She had to stop talking or else she'd start crying and then when Gilbert came out of the Opera house, h-he'd feel horribly for making her upset and she didn't want him to feel badly for doing his job but... but...
As the flames crackled and roared, Lili just shook her head, clamped her lips shut, and returned to watching diligently. She was going to hold the building up by sheer determination and battle of wills with the laws and forces of nature. She wasn't going to lose someone else. She couldn't.
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Post by Ludwig Beilschmidt on Oct 9, 2012 15:12:07 GMT -5
Ludwig hadn't expected the hug, but he returned it quickly, realizing that the situation must have been much, much worse than he originally expected if Lili had dispensed with her typical formalities. Since she didn't appear to be injured or burned, the issue had to be something else, and Ludwig was spared from having to ask: Lili explained it almost immediately. When she explained that bombs had gone off, his thoughts jumped to five years back, when Lili's parents had been killed; Ludwig's eyes narrowed in anger when he wondered whether or not the Ruthians were behind this attack as well. But when he learned Gilbert was still in the building, his anger vanished, replaced by worry and a painful, cold edge of fear in his chest.
"He went back in?" he repeated, incredulous. "That unbelievable idiot..." Of course Gilbert would have considered it his duty to help the military, but the opera house looked like it would be a total loss - what could the military even do in this kind of a situation? Staring hard at the burning building, Ludwig watched the walls. The place didn't look stable. If Gilbert hadn't come out by now... if he didn't come out soon... Taking a deep breath, Ludwig clamped a vice down on the panic rising up inside him. He couldn't be afraid, he had to think.
Setting a hand on Lili's back, he gently dislodged her arms from around him, studying the building. He'd have to be quick: he couldn't tell just how many of the main supports had already been destroyed. If the roof came down, however, Gilbert was as good as gone. Ludwig needed to get moving, and fast. As Lili stood there, he undid the buttons of his coat and put it solidly on her shoulders to keep her warm. "Watch this for me," he instructed with a firm nod. "I'll go find him."
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Post by Lili Walser on Oct 9, 2012 21:10:12 GMT -5
"Ja... h-he... he said he had to help everyone else... m-make sure they all got out..." Lili's voice caught in her throat on a half-sob. She fell silent again. She couldn't cry. She wouldn't. Ludwig's declaration that Gilbert was an unbelievable idiot had her resolve trembling more - if Ludwig was worried... then... then it really couldn't be good. But Gilbert... he knew what he was doing. He had to be okay. He had to. He wouldn't've gone back into the building if he wasn't certain he'd get back out, right?
She took comfort from Ludwig's solidarity... that is... until he removed her arms from around him. Immediately, she tore her eyes away from the building to look up at him in panic. "L-Ludwig?" But he placed his jacket on her shoulders... nodded, and said that he'd go find Gilbert. "N-n-nein!" She reached one hand out to him, catching at his sleeve. "B-bitte, don't leave me here... D-don't... I... L-let me come too..." Her voice trembled... she couldn't lose them both. She wouldn't know what to do. Tears stood in her eyes, threatening her barriers even more. "I... I..." But her voice failed her. She knew... somewhere... deep down... that the only reason Gilbert hadn't come was that he was in trouble... and that his only hope was Ludwig... none of the other bystanders seemed eager or willing to risk their lives, and the military hadn't come. She couldn't... she didn't...
A soft, whimpering sob escaped her as she threw her arms around him once more, hugging him for all she was worth, before she stepped back. "Bitte... B-bitte seien Sie tresor..."* She whispered, voice trembling. She wouldn't... she wouldn't fight with him. She couldn't stop him from going... but she could stop herself from making this harder for both of them. Her fingers curled into his jacket, pulling it tighter around her shoulders as she trembled with the effort of keeping her tears hidden and contained.
Silently, she was wishing with all her heart, praying that Mutti and Vati would keep her cousins safe. They had to... she... couldn't... she couldn't lose them too.
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* Please be safe
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Post by Ludwig Beilschmidt on Oct 12, 2012 14:01:52 GMT -5
Of course Gilbert had gone back in to help everyone else. Ludwig bit back a sigh. It wasn't that he disapproved of the move - or that he wouldn't have done the very same thing - but since Gilbert hadn't returned, his plan had obviously fallen through. It was just like his brother to embark on something without at least considering the risks. Of course, here he was, ready to follow in Gilbert's footsteps. Perhaps he was being a bit hypocritical. But Ludwig understood the building could collapse soon; it was a risk worth taking, in his opinion.
Lili didn't react at all well to his plan, and Ludwig shook his head firmly when she insisted on accompanying him. "No, I can't let you do that," he said solemnly. "If you got hurt or trapped, I might not have time to help both you and Gilbert. You need to stay here where it's safe." That didn't appear to appease the poor girl any; she still looked on the verge of terrified tears. But to Ludwig's surprise, she decided not to argue the matter any further, instead giving him a fierce hug and a plea. Ludwig returned the hug quickly, squeezing Lili in a snug embrace before she backed away. "Mach dir keine Sorgen,"* he assured her, then turned his gaze back to the building. There was no point in waiting any further.
Without looking back, Ludwig ran to the doors, where smoke and heat poured out in a great rush. Taking a deep breath of the fresh night air, he held it and charged inside, eyes watering as he looked around in the dim interior for any hint of his brother.
"Gilbert!" he shouted, hurrying towards where he knew the auditorium to be. "Gilbert!!"
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*Don't worry.
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