|
|
Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 27, 2016 18:22:49 GMT -5
At the moment the bell rang out, announcing another a customer had entered the store, Roderich had shut his eyes out of habit, counting to ten underneath his breath before he opened them again. An inconvenience, but a necessary one, considering the effect bells had on him.
Truthfully, he should be avoiding any businesses that had bells attached to their door, but there came the crux of the matter; Roderich was lazy and, in all honesty, a cheapskate. The only laundromat within a short distance of the apartment he shared with his son was also one of the cheapest, qualities that appealed to him. After all, limited effort + opportunity to save money meant Roderich was willing to brave any chances of accidentally frightening a human or two. It was lucky that his kind could generally blend into the populace with ease and that any major signs of his inhumanity were generally written off by the unprepared human psyche as a trick of the light.
He resumed his sorting of the load he’d brought with him, frowning with distaste at the grass stains, paint splatters, and pen marks dotting his son’s shirts and pants. ‘What is that boy doing?’ Roderich thought to himself with distaste as he picked up his stain remover and added a few more sprays to Johann’s clothes for good measure.
It was remarkable how domesticated he’d gotten these past six years of playing the role of single father in addition to the one of stuffy school counselor Roderich had been taking on for the past quarter of a century. It was nice to have the break in routine of spending ten years in and out of towns, his only highlights being in early Winter. It was nice to have someone to welcome home, to call, to even say goodnight to… which was probably why Roderich wouldn’t scold the boy too much for dirtying his clothes again.
Because life as a Krampus got very, very boring. Even in a town simply teeming with mythics such as the one he’d chosen – not to mention the hunters milling about. Just last week he’d heard of two new ones through the mythic grapevine, something about a nest of rowdy vampires being cleaned out (good riddance!) by two newcomer hunters.
Of course none of that had to do with him, despite being ignorantly labeled a dark creature based on mere superficialities – why his opa remembered being considered a god! – Roderich minded his business, gave counseling to those of non-human kind who needed, and practiced discretion in his personal duties. And he paid all his tickets, so he was law-abiding on both sides of the law! Hunters, then, generally had little use for him unless they really objected to him ‘frightening’ a couple of adults during the holidays who, quite frankly, deserved everything they got.
He set the last of his load in the wash, sighing as he glanced at the clock, Roderich returned to his seat, crossing one leg over the other and looking for all the world like a completely unremarkable schoolteacher. He buried himself in his novel, keeping on ear out for the tinkling little bell in the door that would beg to differ.
(Gilbert Beilschmidt here you go <3) |
|
|
|
Post by Gilbert Beilschmidt on Apr 21, 2016 23:32:38 GMT -5
Being a hunter wasn't all it was cracked up to be. For one thing, it didn't make much money, so one had to develop other skills to make ends meet when not hunting malevolent creatures. Gilbert had decided he had a good chance of having part time work as a mechanic. And that is what led him to the pay and wash as he called it. It was time to wash his regular clothes, only a few oil stains on them where it had gotten through his work overalls. His things that got bloody when hunting he washed out in the sink of the apartment he was currently renting. After all, oil stains were so much easier to explain than blood.
Pushing in the door and hearing the ringing of the bell, he entered in the facility, scanning the layout in the process. Anywhere that Gil went, he always looked for exits, for the possibility of a threat; he would not be surprised. Though this time, he was. Sitting there was someone he hadn't seen in years, someone who he had last seen in a much different place than this.
Josef Lang.
Gil could almost laugh at seeing him again. There didn't seem to be much change in the man, but he seemed young all those years ago and it seemed like he had a family that aged well. He was too far away to see if he had the signs of aging or not, but if he was in his early forties, he probably wouldn't. Putting his basket of laundry on a washer to claim it as his, he headed over to his old teacher and grinned wide.
"Long time no see, I'm surprised to see you here, of all places. What brings you to a small town like this?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Roderich Edelstein on Apr 22, 2016 2:12:14 GMT -5
The telltale ringing of the bell sounded out once more and Roderich closed his eyes for the next few seconds, tilting his head to appear as if he was thoroughly engrossed in his book. The moment passed and he opened his eyes again, eyes darting to look to see if there was anyone else approach. And that's when he saw who had just entered the laundromat. Roderich immediately stiffened, indigo eyes widening in surprise as he realized the young man who just came in looked very familiar.
Very familiar, as in he could picture him around ten years younger, glaring in irritation as Roderich kept him after school again. Roderich didn't recall every troublesome student he had, but Gilbert Rothschild had been unusual in that, well, the boy was just a punk - Roderich couldn't find anything in the boy's home life that really described why the boy was so obstinate and, well, quick to retaliate when the other children gave him lip. Appealing to his authority all those afternoons in that dusty, fluorescent-lit office when he'd worked in that middle school ten years ago had amounted to little except those red eyes rolling at him.
For a Krampus, Gilbert was the exact kind of child that they'd typically target. Pugnacious, disrespectful, with little motivation to change such behavior. If a century of study and soul-searching hadn't instilled a sense of disgust for abusing human children in Roderich, he'd feel tempted to shake some sense into the boy during his holiday festivities. Of course that hadn't happened, merely he shook his head as the boy managed to graduate to high school and he could finally wash his hands of Rothschild. Or so he thought.
Ten years later, two towns past, and here the boy was...staring right at him with a silly, wide grin on his face. Roderich gulped silently. He could count, in the past century, on his hand how many times someone from the past had come across him or recognized. Thankfully the country they were in was large, where he could hide quite...easily, and never come across former students. And yet...
As Rothschild walked over to him, Roderich scrambled in his mind for every detail of his time in the past decade - the name he'd used was Lang, right? - and tried to steady himself, closing his book and raised an expectant eyebrow up as the albino man finally made it to him.
"Well, now, if it isn't little Gilbert Rothschild. Not so little anymore..." He said, sounding the part of a reminiscing school teacher.
"Long time no see, I'm surprised to see you here, of all places. What brings you to a small town like this?" The young man asked. Roderich's mind raced - how to answer and not incur any suspicion...
"Small but lovely, yes?" Roderich puts his novel back in his bag. "It's a good place to raise a kid." There - and that was the truth, so he wasn't even lying when he answered it, something that he hoped helped him sound convincing. "And what of you, Mr. Rothschild?" He asks, raising his lips up slightly in a smile. Even if it was inconvenient, Roderich truly didn't mind catching up with former students, especially when he'd worried about this one ending up in some sort of bad situation (like being incarcerated). Rather justified worry, he noted to himself, as he noticed a couple scars on the other's arms, things that indicated rough-housing. "Still causing trouble? Or did my detentions rub off on you eventually?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Gilbert Beilschmidt on May 4, 2016 6:31:49 GMT -5
"Well, now, if it isn't little Gilbert Rothschild. Not so little anymore...”
Of all the people he could have ran into in this place, it was his old school teacher. He still looked young, but people had good genes these days and face lifts did wonders. Most would wonder why Gil was interested in him, and most could probably name multiple reasons, but the real reason was simple. It was a connection to his past, to who he was before his father was attacked and he started the life of a Hunter. Sometimes he needed the reminder that he was once normal and blindly ignorant of the world. Which was why he fought, to keep others from needing to go down the same path he traveled.
"Small but lovely, yes. It's a good place to raise a kid."
Well, now that was a shocker. Really, he couldn't help but laugh with a smile on his face. It wasn't everyday he heard news like that, especially from someone who used to love bothering him. But really, he was happy for the man in front of him, he deserved good things in his life.
"A kid? Congrats. Never thought you'd have a kid after dealing with us brats."
He was happy for the man, it was good he was able to have himself a family, something Gil knew he would never have, and knew that he it wouldn't be good for his job. Heck, he knew he wouldn’t be a good parent and he would probably accidently get the kid injured or killed with all the stuff he fought.
"Still causing trouble? Or did my detentions rub off on you eventually?"
"Me? I never started fights, I ended them. And believe it or not, I’m a mechanic now, work at the shop in town part time. Don't have a kid, but I have a nice cat to keep me company. "
|
|
|
|
Post by Roderich Edelstein on May 20, 2016 9:19:25 GMT -5
As they progressed further into their conversation, Roderich patted the empty chair beside him as the man gave a bit of laugh at hearing of his family situation.
“A kid? Congrats. Never thought you'd have a kid after dealing with us brats."
“Do sit down, Gilbert, the washing cycles take some time here… And why do you say that? Most people who work with children tend to enjoy working with them, you know, and little of us would suffer through you if we disliked all children. I found my work rewarding enough to have a ‘brat’ of my own.” Not the complete truth, of course, since Johann was more ‘dropped’ on him than anything, but Roderich, as a Krampus, did feel connected to children – and being a father was…emotionally rewarding in an entirely new way.
He crossed his leg over the other as he waited for the man to join him and sit down, before sharing a small reserved smile with the other as the other answered him.
"Me? I never started fights, I ended them. And believe it or not, I’m a mechanic now, work at the shop in town part time. Don't have a kid, but I have a nice cat to keep me company. "
Roderich raised an eyebrow. “I don’t recall if that was always the case, you know, Gilbert. Certainly the other children were…pugnacious…” He chuckles. “But I doubt you want me to bring up ten-year old things to scold you for – you are grown up now, and a mechanic to boot, and you have a cat. So I suppose you’ve settled into adulthood then?”
Something else came to Roderich as he began asking, something he’d forgotten in the years of not seeing Gilbert Rothschild – most of said fights had been started by the children either making fun of Gilbert’s albinism or because his father was… odd. The local oddball, so to speak, kept to himself and lived with Gilbert apart from everyone, and moved rather frequently. Roderich had initially been suspicious of the man and his treatment of Gilbert, since that anti-authoritarian attitude had to have come from somewhere but speaking to the man and some ‘snooping’ had only procured a sense that he was just an odd human with some…knowledge (according to locals) of the supernatural. If anything, that had made Roderich less willing to directly pry in Rothschild’s home life, as he would have preferred to escape the notice of any potential hunter, amateur or not.
But yet Gilbert hadn’t mentioned him…
“Oh, do forgive me for not asking sooner, but how is your father?” Roderich added after a moment of thought. “I moved away the year you graduated so I haven’t been able to keep up with the gossip back there – has he moved with you here as well?”
|
|
|
|
Post by Gilbert Beilschmidt on Aug 12, 2016 4:28:49 GMT -5
“Do sit down, Gilbert, the washing cycles take some time here… And why do you say that? Most people who work with children tend to enjoy working with them, you know, and little of us would suffer through you if we disliked all children. I found my work rewarding enough to have a ‘brat’ of my own.”Moving to sit down in a free chair, he didn’t look directly at Josef, he didn’t want to. For some reason, when he was around him, he still felt a bit like how he was a child and he knew he couldn’t tell his secret even though he wanted to. Perhaps it was because they had a connection and the only real person he got to chat with anymore, have a true conversation with, was his ‘cat’, who could turn into a human at will. He still wasn’t sure how he managed to get a demon familiar when he hunted demons and evil creatures.
“Why I say that? I like kids well enough to, but I’d be a horrible dad… I’d be the guy you read about accidently drowning the trying to give him a bath because I didn’t know that kids couldn’t hold their breath. Some of us aren’t made to be parents.”Gilbert knew better than that, he was smarter than that, but he couldn’t tell his old teacher the reason behind his statement. “Besides, I know I was a little hellion… but I guess if you could handle me, you could handle anything right?” He just snickered a bit at that one before relaxing in his seat and closing his eyes… when was the last time he was able to relax without being fully on guard? He couldn’t’ remember, but he was going to take this moment for the brief reprise it was. “But I doubt you want me to bring up ten-year old things to scold you for – you are grown up now, and a mechanic to boot, and you have a cat. So I suppose you’ve settled into adulthood then?”Chuckling again, he just shrugged, his shirt moving enough so the end of a scar could be seen on his shoulder “Settled, dragged into adulthood kicking and screaming… same difference right? I do what I need to to get by, but I’m making due, got a decent job that pays the bills. Was thinking of moving soon honestly, if I get a new gig elsewhere… nothing biting on the feelers though. “Basically, this was the most active town he had been in and nowhere else needed him. It was nice to build up his stores of cash so he didn’t have to swindle people. Oh if his old teacher really knew what he did for a living, he’d probably be town between having him locked up for insanity and calling the cops on a career criminal.
“Oh, do forgive me for not asking sooner, but how is your father? I moved away the year you graduated so I haven’t been able to keep up with the gossip back there – has he moved with you here as well?”He was thankful he hadn’t been looking at his old teacher when he asked that question, as it was, his shoulders stiffened and he looked away even more before looking down at his feet. It was still a sore spot, all these years later. There were always what if’s that could never be answered and really, those questions that were raised whenever he thought of his father always haunted him for days. “... Not long after that he was murdered.” Did he need to say anything after that, he probably did, but what should he say, how should he put it. That was really the start of his life now, of his life hunting down things that killed for fun and left other orphans, left others feeling lost and hopeless. He didn’t want others brought into this life if it could be helped. “Some friends of his took me in after that and helped get me back on my feet… we moved so I wouldn’t have to be near the scene and feel survivors’ guilt every time I saw the house… It was horrible Joseph… but… here I am, and I’m alive, living a trade that was taught to me by his friends to keep me in a business.. We all gotta start somewhere, don’t we? Some start from a good home with chances on their plate… Some rise from the ashes of fighting and bloodshed and murder.”He shook his head and sighed, trying to dispel the darkening mood as he moved to scratch the back of his head.
“Sorry. Life is good now, it can only go up, Ja? There’s always an up for people who scrap through whatever life decides to throw at them.”
Roderich Edelstein
|
|
|
|
Post by Roderich Edelstein on Jan 25, 2017 0:04:51 GMT -5
“Why I say that? I like kids well enough to, but I’d be a horrible dad… I’d be the guy you read about accidently drowning the trying to give him a bath because I didn’t know that kids couldn’t hold their breath. Some of us aren’t made to be parents.”
Though Roderich knew fully well that Gilbert was joking, goosebumps trailed his skin as his instincts flared up from the man’s words. He reined them in immediately, but for a passing second, his already austere expression tightened as Gilbert went on.
“Besides, I know I was a little hellion… but I guess if you could handle me, you could handle anything, right?” The young albino man followed that up with a snicker and Roderich relaxed enough to offer a small smile in return, though it tempered out rapidly when his gaze fell up a small scar on his former pupil’s shoulder. More indications that the past ten years had been less than kind to the boy, and Roderich felt his curiosity rise with every new glance he took.
“Oh? Is this town not for you then? There’s definitely a bit of a job boom, I’ve noticed that with all the new faces in town.” He adds, looking over the laundromat as he spoke, noting all the new faces. “Plenty of ways to make money if one is willing…” It was in the midst of speaking that he noticed how stiff Gilbert had gotten at his last question, the one about his father.
“... Not long after that he was murdered.”
Roderich gave out a loud gasp. It was truly a shock, that man had been odd but nothing truly…well, unless that suspected amateur curiosity in hunting became something, but he doubts it, considering how quickly things must have happened after he left the town.
“Murdered? What…how? Did they ever catch the ones responsible?” Roderich asked, a little shaken by how Gilbert was describing his childhood after the murder of his father.
“Sorry. Life is good now, it can only go up, Ja? There’s always an up for people who scrap through whatever life decides to throw at them.”
The perchten grimaced. “Optimism is an admirable quality, Rothschild, but... I suppose it’s a little jarring to hear how hard a time you’ve had it. I’m glad it didn’t make you turn to a harsher life and I’m sorry about your father’s passing, whatever may have happened.” He turned sad, wide indigo eyes up at the other. At that very moment a buzzer sounded, and Roderich was up in an instant with small ‘excuse me!’, surprisingly agile as he strode towards his washing machine and quickly grabbed the contents out and put them in an adjacent dryer.
“Sorry, Gilbert, had to replace the clothes.” He says, sliding back into his seat. “I… If you don’t leave the town for now, I’d love for you to keep in touch. I’m not exactly offering this since I don’t know whether you would care for such, but I do run therapy sessions outside of my normal work hours for adults who maybe not very traditionally served by clinics – a kind of judgment-free zone to talk. But even if you don’t want anything that structured…perhaps come around for dinner when you wish? Basically…” Roderich sighs, feeling as if he wasn’t being all that clear. “If you need to talk, I’m around, and if you want a home-cooked meal one of these nights, my son would be happy to meet an old pupil.”
Technically those sessions were generally for mythics, but Roderich didn’t mind extending them to Gilbert, even if Gilbert’s demons were more literal and in the past rather than the present. Of course he’d have to explain the name change, but he’d been in tighter spots before, and it was unlikely Gilbert would mind…that much. Or that’s what Roderich hoped.
Gilbert Beilschmidt Sorry about the wait ;;!
|
|
|
|
Post by Gilbert Beilschmidt on Jun 30, 2017 10:39:18 GMT -5
“Oh? Is this town not for you then? There’s definitely a bit of a job boom, I’ve noticed that with all the new faces in town.”
Gilbert could only shrug with the question. It was for him, he did like it here and he hoped he could stay for a while. But the thing was, he wasn’t sure he was needed. This town was full of mythics, of the others… but they did a good job of policing themselves, so… there really was not work for a hunter such as himself, one that actually took motivations and such into account. He wasn’t going to hunt creatures just because they were technically labeled dark. Dark didn’t mean evil just as light didn’t mean good. So in this town of dark and light that policed itself, he was redundant.
“The town is fine… I just have trouble staying in one palace for too long. I always feel like I need to be moving, like there is somewhere else I’m meant to be. We’ll see how long I end up staying here.”
There, that was as close to the truth as he was going to get with telling someone he used to know. They didn’t need to know he moved with the job, they didn’t need to know that he killed for a living. With an odd sound in his throat, he realized he sounded like an assassin in his head. And maybe that’s what his kind were, assassins against the evil that threatened the mortals that didn’t ask for this, whose lives were disturbed and destroyed lives, children’s lives, like his own.
"Murdered? What…how? Did they ever catch the ones responsible?”
“Nein, they were never found… but I will not hesitate to say that if I find them, they will pay for what they have done. “
He would take them out to prevent anyone else from ended up like him. There was no reason his father needed to be killed, he hadn’t been a true threat. It could only have been done for the fun of it or to feed whatever they needed to live off of… and the way the scene looked…. He could only shudder with his thoughts…. He was thankful when Josef moved, it helped pull him out of his thoughts, they were going in dark ways he didn’t like to dwell on in the light.
“If you need to talk, I’m around, and if you want a home-cooked meal one of these nights, my son would be happy to meet an old pupil.”
Gilbert could only chuckle and he shook his head. “I don’t do therapy, thanks for the offer, but a home cooked meal not made by myself would be nice. It would be nice to meet your son… and to get to know you better again better than we can do here in a laundry mat. I can stop by tomorrow if that would work, I have no plans currently.
|
|
|
|
Post by Roderich Edelstein on Jan 7, 2018 5:36:12 GMT -5
Considering the serious topic of Gilbert’s father’s death, Roderich repressed a small smile at Gilbert’s wanderlust, feeling a small wistlessness at how easy it used to be to travel, to uproot oneself. Such a chore in this age of digital paper trails and the like. “Restlessness during your twenties is far from unusual, Gilbert. I’m certain you might find yourself settling down one day – though, traveling can be as fulfilling as settling down.” He watched his old student shrug in response to his questions; getting the feeling that pressing any more on his father’s murder would annoy the younger man.
“Nein, they were never found… but I will not hesitate to say that if I find them, they will pay for what they have done. “
“I’m glad you haven’t let it haunt you too much, however. Justice usually comes to those who are wronged.” Yes… Justice. A concept Roderich liked very much – he wasn’t the type to encourage those with vendettas on quests to fulfill them but serving justice; what else did a Krampus do but mete out punishments to those who deserved them? He had to suppress a shiver that wanted to run through his body – his instincts simply pushing at the need to find those to discipline – to bring to justice. Instead he tried to match Gilbert’s sudden chuckling.
“Tomorrow should be fine,” Roderich says, crossing one leg over the other in a way to tamper down his instincts and make himself look relaxed and comfortable. “I’m sure my son will be delighted. Are you partial to Central European food? I tend to cook that and Johann, my son, likes it enough.” Almost as if by magic, Roderich’s phone gave a ping, notifying him that his son had sent a text. Whispering an ‘excuse me’, Roderich quickly looked through the text, frowning, before texting his son, currently at his art lessons, back. So engrossed was he that he didn’t catch the fact the door opened until that loud ring! reverberated throughout the space once more. Startled, he turned his head to look past Gilbert, at the door, forgetting to blink until it was too late. Immediately he gave a small whip of his head and watched his glasses fall to the floor.
“Oh dear!” He said, bending down and squinting so the other couldn’t see his eyes anymore, mumbling to the other as well. “I really do hate that bell, it’s grating on the head.” Gingerly lifting up the glasses, he took a moment in placing them squarely on his nose before opening his eyes again. “Sorry about that – sudden noises tend to make me nervous.”
|
|
|
|
Post by Gilbert Beilschmidt on Jan 23, 2018 10:23:30 GMT -5
“Restlessness during your twenties is far from unusual, Gilbert. I’m certain you might find yourself settling down one day – though, traveling can be as fulfilling as settling down”Gilbert could only snort with that comment, if only he knew the reason for his ‘restlessness.’ Though, Gilbert did wonder if he would get sick of living in one place for too long if he wasn’t occupied like he was. Perhaps he was too used to this life now. Though he doubted he’d be allowed to live normally given everything he had done… Though was he really only in his twenties? He felt so much older than that sometimes with everything he had been though. But to his friend he just shrugged as if he wasn’t contemplating his life at that exact moment.
“Perhaps so… and we’ll see about settling down. I haven’t really found once certain place that calls to me. It all gets boring after a while and I have to see what else is there… I haven’t really found a place that feels like home to me… if that makes sense. “ “I’m glad you haven’t let it haunt you too much, however. Justice usually comes to those who are wronged.”Gilbert had to bite his tongue with that comment, if only Roderich knew how right he was. Gilbert was the blade of justice… the stake or the gun... whatever weapon he needed at the time. He was the weapon that brought vengeance against the monsters that had ruined innocent lives. He was sure Roderich would think him insane and a murderer if he actually knew what Gilbert did for a living on a nightly basis. How many lives had he taken? Lately, none… but he had done quite a bit of justice in the past.
“I’m sure my son will be delighted. Are you partial to Central European food? I tend to cook that and Johann, my son, likes it enough.”“Whatever kind of food you make is fine, I’m not partial. Hell, I’m sure it would be masterpiece of a meal compared to some of the things I’ve fixed myself in the past no matter which way you decided to cook. Just make what you want, I’m not picky.”It was after the bell rang and Roderich looked past him that Gilbert had to blink. It took him a moment to figure out that yes, those eyes did look silted and a deep purple, something that wasn’t normal. All noise around him faded as he thought about those eyes he saw briefly; was he just imagining things due to the way his thoughts were running? Or did he actually see what he thought he saw? He needed to think about this, confer with his notes and figure this out... Now he really needed to know. If he was possessed, he would need to act… if the other was some sort of creature, he needed to figure out how he was, if he was evil or not. But most of these were just fleeing thoughts at the edge of his mind as he turned his head a bit to give the other a bit of privacy. Stretching as if he had a yawn, he just grunted. “I really do hate that bell, it’s grating on the head.”“Bells can be grating, Ja… Perhaps… are you getting a migraine by chance? You seem like you’re getting sensitive to light and sound? If you need to go once you’re done with your wash, I understand.. Here.” Moving to get his phone out, he gave it over to Roderich. “Put your phone number in here and I’ll call you later this evening to find out where you live, dinner tomorrow and all.”
Roderich Edelstein
|
|
