I drew Friedrich as a robot space zombie Mordesh from Wildstar. A Khy included for scale.
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@friedrichsteinkopf
I drew Friedrich as a robot space zombie Mordesh from Wildstar. A Khy included for scale.
Goodness but the American postal service is inept. This poor little package looks like it's been everywhere from Bangkok to Timbuktu before it arrived the few miles from Coldfront to Friedrich's house. Inside is a neat case full of cello upkeep supplies- new strings, fresh lumps of rosin, polishing cloths, things like that. There is also a letter enclosed full of what can only be called neatly restrained brotherly affection, and wishes for a good holiday.
Steinkoph is as he always is- slow to respond to anything,difficult to reach. His apartment is usually locked, and the lights dimmed, so it’s never certain whether or not he’s ever home.Until one day, a similarly large package arrives on Karl’s doorstep, full of odds and ends- comfort foods, new dancing shoes, and a letter with cordial, apologetic well-wishes.Karl might not think much of it, unless he reads the letter several times.He may come to realize it contains a carefully hidden code.“HELPNEW MEXICO BADLANDS”
He had to actually stifle a squeal when the package came and he saw who sent it. He hadn’t heard from his wayward brother in ages- he’d only hoped that Friedrich was living a quiet, peaceful life away from the madness of the Industries. Something tranquil, something normal. Heaven knows he deserved it.
Every object is removed and looked over. The shoes are slipped onto his feet for breaking in, a lemon drop popped into his mouth. He was happy, because all seemed well.
Until Karl realized that it wasn’t. Someone less astute might have missed it, hidden there in plain sight. ‘HELP NEW MEXICO BADLANDS’
What kind of trouble Friedrich was in, Karl couldn’t guess. Where in the badlands he was, Karl had no idea. But that didn’t matter. His dear friend, his kin through shared experience, was in trouble.
Without a second thought, he swaps out the new shoes for his boots, clips his Blutsauger and his Ubersaw to his belt, packs a small satchel full of essentials- medical supplies, water, and the like- and takes the first train out to Badlands.
The heat is a shock, having spent so much time in cold weather, but he is not deterred. He immediately begins looking for clues.
There was a lot of nothing in the desert. The train went on and on for miles across flat desert and red, cracked earth. When it finally stopped, it had taken Karl to a backwater town that looked like it was stuck a couple of decades in the past. This was the closest to the middle of nowhere Karl could possibly find. Friedrich hadn’t given him much to go on, and it was a complete mystery what had happened to the man. If he searched the town, however, he may soon gather a sneaking suspicion that this town was completely controlled by a cartel. Every stranger gave him a cold, hard look- and he’d get the oppressive sense that he did not belong here. Strangers were not welcome. Nightfall was coming and eyes watched Karl from the streets.
Goodness but the American postal service is inept. This poor little package looks like it's been everywhere from Bangkok to Timbuktu before it arrived the few miles from Coldfront to Friedrich's house. Inside is a neat case full of cello upkeep supplies- new strings, fresh lumps of rosin, polishing cloths, things like that. There is also a letter enclosed full of what can only be called neatly restrained brotherly affection, and wishes for a good holiday.
Steinkoph is as he always is- slow to respond to anything,difficult to reach. His apartment is usually locked, and the lights dimmed, so it’s never certain whether or not he’s ever home.Until one day, a similarly large package arrives on Karl’s doorstep, full of odds and ends- comfort foods, new dancing shoes, and a letter with cordial, apologetic well-wishes.Karl might not think much of it, unless he reads the letter several times.He may come to realize it contains a carefully hidden code.“HELPNEW MEXICO BADLANDS”
He’s certainly had a life. The few years of quiet he’s had were, at first, like a long and well-deserved rest. The chaos and pain ended. His son’s health improved, and the boy was working now, starting a family of his own. Friedrich lost count of the years, but he was old, and tired, and lonely. The only sounds in his house now were the TV, a grandfather clock, the refrigerator humming. He earned his loneliness, he knew that much. But he didn’t know why it was still so hard for him to pick up the phone and make a call. The people he thought about most lately were Karl, Sophie and Elsbeth. Sometimes he wondered what they’d say if he tried to contact them. It might surprise them, then they might just talk about the weather. What did he have to talk about, anymore? Too much? Not enough? With a sigh and shaking hands, Friedrich returned the photograph of himself, Klaus, and Naomi into the bedside drawer and shut it. Then, he went to make himself a cup of coffee, and watch more TV.
its really awful when your identity is so reliant on other peoples opinions of you and those opinions start to differ. am i a bad person? am i a good person? am i a corn chip? we just dont know
He picks up the phone, letting a long sigh pass his lips. He should have done this before now. He really doesn't know why not-it's not like he doesn't want contact. He longs for Friedrich as much as you can platonically long for someone. Perhaps he'd felt so guilty about the communication lapse that it just made said lapse harder to bridge. but no more. He dials, and waits.
Friedrich knows who it is before he even picks up the phone.And he doesn’t even wait for Karl to speak before he says: “meet me at the diner in thirty minutes.”He hangs up. Puts on his coat. Walks out the door.Sometimes, standing around and feeling guilty for being completely absent in your loved ones lives was a waste of time. The simple decision to stop feeling guilty, pick up your car keys, and actually do something about it shouldn’t be so difficult.He arrived at the diner fifteen minutes later, all angles and graying hair, his expression blank and unassuming as ever. He was already scanning the faces for Karl, though he was not sure he would arrive before he got here.Friedrich had a habit of driving too fast when he had something important to do.
It took Karl a bit longer to arrive. For one, he didn’t drive. For the other, he didn’t own a car. So it was impossible for him to follow his brother’s example and leadfoot it into town from the base, as much as he would have liked to.
Still, he shows up fairly punctually- and spots Friedrich in a heartbeat, making his way over to him. The dancer is as thin as ever- maybe moreso than when the retired Medic saw him last due to being snowed in for days with minimal food. Maybe he looks a little older, a little wearier.
But oh, is his smile a thing of beauty as he sits across from his dear, dear friend. His ice blue eyes trace over Friedrich’s features, a fondness in them impossible to conceal. It was if he hasn’t seen the man in years- and it did feel that way sometimes.
No matter. They were here now. And when Karl finally speaks, there’s no hiding the warm undercurrent of joy in his tone.
“Hallo, Friedrich.”
Those who knew Friedrich well knew what to look for in his face when searching for a smile. They wouldn’t find one in a curve of his mouth or the lines in his cheeks. They wouldn’t find it in the crease of his brow or by wrinkles near his eyes. They’d find it in the rest of him. The way his shoulders eased, his head tilted, the stiffness in his posture relaxing. When he saw Karl enter the door, he stood up from his booth, warm coffee abandoned. He approached Karl and embraced him, heedless of the looks the others in the cafe gave him. he eventually pulled away, both hands on Karl’s shoulders at arm’s-length. “...I’m sorry, Karl.” He said after a moment. “I feel like there should be so much that I can say to you, but I find myself left with nothing to say.”
He picks up the phone, letting a long sigh pass his lips. He should have done this before now. He really doesn't know why not-it's not like he doesn't want contact. He longs for Friedrich as much as you can platonically long for someone. Perhaps he'd felt so guilty about the communication lapse that it just made said lapse harder to bridge. but no more. He dials, and waits.
Friedrich knows who it is before he even picks up the phone.And he doesn’t even wait for Karl to speak before he says: “meet me at the diner in thirty minutes.”He hangs up. Puts on his coat. Walks out the door.Sometimes, standing around and feeling guilty for being completely absent in your loved ones lives was a waste of time. The simple decision to stop feeling guilty, pick up your car keys, and actually do something about it shouldn't be so difficult.He arrived at the diner fifteen minutes later, all angles and graying hair, his expression blank and unassuming as ever. He was already scanning the faces for Karl, though he was not sure he would arrive before he got here.Friedrich had a habit of driving too fast when he had something important to do.
Just because your pain is understandable, doesn’t mean your behavior is acceptable.
Steve Maraboli, Unapologetically You: Reflections on Life and the Human Experience (via derikisu)
Keep this one in your back pocket for the next time someone acts like an ass and then tells you they’ve been through a lot of stuff. Respectful and yet still firmly keeping respect for yourself.
(via emilyvgordon)
What would Friedrich's alignment be? I imagine he'd be Lawful Neutral or something.
If he were asked to take an alignment test, Friedrich believes he is Lawful Good, and here's why:1. He believes that his ideal of justice and righteousness is correct, and anyone abiding by anything other than what he deems is correct is thus wrong. He places a tremendous amount of importance on being "good" and doing the "right thing"-- but the catch is that he follows no other definition of righteousness than his own. 2. Under Friedrich's ideal of justice, anyone committing a heinous sin against his personal moral code deserves to die- and thus, he has no problem killing them himself. (He will kill rapists, child molesters, murderers, and similar scum without a trial and without an arrest. Shoot 'em dead. No context needed, no sob story necessary, no regrets.)3. Under Friedrich's ideal of life and death, anyone who has died unfairly deserves to be brought back to life. (Hense his necromancy in his fantasy AU and his "Frankenstein" way of attempting to resurrect his wife in TF2 AU.)Basically, Friedrich is Lawful Good because he has a God complex to rival the sun. He has defined to himself what he deems "good" and "evil" in excruciating detail. And he will take that law into his own hands. He is extremely black-and-white, which rules him out of being 'neutral', and since he doesn't believe he is evil, I can't put him in the category of Lawful Evil, either.I cannot say where on the moral scale he truly lies- after all, when we judge a character's alignment, we're using OUR OWN moral compass... so who knows, really, whether someone is good or evil by their actions?One could certainly argue that Frito might be somewhere in the neutral or evil categories, too, depending on how you look at him, but since HE doesn't believe he is evil or neutral, the best I can do is give him the Lawful Good label and stop over analyzing morality. XDThanks for the question, anon! I miss RPing him.
He was something of a difficult patient- it’s awful hard to treat someone who doesn’t want to be touched whatsoever. Thankfully, he’s not quite as panicky as he had been so no medical staff gets a fist to the face, but there’s a great deal of flinching and jerking away. Still, eventually, the job gets done, and the singer is left alone.
Well, not quite alone.
"…you’re still here."
It was surprising. He hadn’t expected it. It was very kind of the policeman, especially considering Karl had beat on him a bit. Not that he’d really meant to, but he had.
"I’m… I’m sorry. Fur hitting you. I vasn’t… vasn’t really myself. Long story. I… I don’t care fur being touched at zhe best of times, und…"
He waves a hand, sighs. He was babbling.
"…anyvay. Danke fur helping mich. You saved mich, you truly did. I just hope you von’t lose your badge for it."
Admittedly, Karl wasn’t that familiar about how police internal affairs worked, but he’s fairly sure shooting people and not arresting them was frowned upon.
The Park
The girl’s eyebrows rose in surprise, however understated, at the grin. Friedrich so very rarely smiled that it was always a bit of a shock to see, though it certainly wasn’t unwelcome. His suggestion on the other hand, while startling, did not have a similar result.
"Wait… are you suggesting that someone could be modified to… do what I do?” She made a weak sound that was almost a laugh, almost a scoff. “Friedrich, you know that that’s completely out of the question. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. And you of all people should know why. You saw what happened, back in January.”
She had always wondered how Friedrich ever found it in him to forgive her, after her powers went haywire and she almost killed him and his dearest friend.
Dear Friedrich,
This sweater is for Klaus. Give him a hug and a kiss for me and tell him that I’ll be stop by soon. I miss him and I would very much like to see him again.
Love,
Annie
P.S. I still have your Parrots. Do you need them back? My Father has taken quite a liking to them and wants to know if you’ll be stopping by to pick them up.
---- When he opened the letter, Friedrich could not stay the tears which formed in his tired, old eyes behind his square-rimmed glasses. His thumb and forefinger lifted to wipe the wetness away as he put his pen to paper. "Klaus wants to see you, too. And he loves everything that you make for him. Annie, I have a question, but I don't want to ask you in a letter. Can we meet in person? P. S. If the parrots do not trouble you, you may keep them. I'm afraid I don't give them the attention they deserve."
send me a url and I'll answer the following.
opinion on.
character in general. how they play them. the mun.
do i.
rp with them. want to rp with them.
what is my.
overall opinion.
**note: mun’s answer are all to be completely honest. don’t send url if you don’t want brutal honesty.
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He jerked back, eyes wide, body trembling. He was splashed with blood- it stood out so starkly on the white and blue outfit he wore. Pinkish gray bits of brain matter stuck in his dark hair.
Covered in blood. Surrounded by dead bodies. Gunshots. It jerked him back to a memory he couldn’t forget but tried to keep as buried as possible. Icy blue eyes dart around for a person who wasn’t there. His heart was beating so fast.
“Berühren Sie mich nicht… bitte… Berühren Sie mich nicht…”
He scoots back, pressed against the wall hard, looking at the older man yet not really seeing him. Once he was capable of rational thought again, he would be very grateful for the rescue. For now, all there was was blood, death, gunshots, assault… a situation all too close to the one that had driven him far from his home.
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He would likely be very sheepish later about taking a swing at a cop. But frankly, he was so blinded with fear and panic he wasn’t sure who he was fighting against- someone was touching him and he wanted it to stop.
Once inside the car, he balls up, knees pulled tight to his chest, arms wrapped close around them, shaking, breath hard and fast. Whatever the young man had been through, it was obviously much more than even an alleyway assault. Aside from his breathing and the occasional whimper, though, Karl is silent for a long time.
Eventually, though, he looks up very slowly, his voice quiet.
"…you shot zhose men und killed zhem."
It’s hard to tell what the obvious statement is- worry, gratitude, curiosity.
The Park
"Force of habit… sorry."
Elsbeth had dropped her gaze, turning it to the edge of the water lapping at the shore. Of course it was foolish to mask the truth around Friedrich; one shouldn’t challenge a master at his own specialty, after all.
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The Park
"Less stressful than it was before," Elsbeth replied, though she fell into step behind the former Medic without hesitation, joining him in walking at the water’s edge.
"Uh, let’s see… I’m still doing mindwalks of course. I seem to be making progress with one of my patients, and that’s encouraging. What else… oh, my boyfriend and I broke up a few months ago. Though to be honest, I’m relieved." She breathed a weak chuckle that didn’t entirely make its way out. "My work doesn’t make it easy for partners. But other than that…" She trailed off and frowned down at her hands, watching the fingers twist around each other. There wasn’t really anything to complain about. No one was in immediate danger, she did not want for food, or shelter, or friends.
But…
She shrugged, even though Friedrich wouldn’t see it unless he looked over his shoulder. If he did, he might notice how little effort she put into the gesture.
"… I’m okay. I guess." She didn’t sound at all like she believed it.
Friedrich, of all people, could hardly be fooled by Elsbeth attempting to shrug off what was obviously deep-rooted pain. He had long practiced the illusion of a stony exterior. "We both know that's a lie," he stated. He stopped walking and turned to face her. The lake nearby reflected the fading light in the sky upon its rippling waters. He turned to face her, no trace of a smile on his features. "The kind of job you were forced to bear shouldn't be anything one person can shoulder alone. And I know you must still carry the pain, even after..." He paused, knowing he was treading on what was likely sensitive territory. "What happened, earlier, in your mind." He hesitated. "But there's something else, isn't there? Talk to me, Elsbeth."
The Park
Elsbeth felt her heart twist and sink at the sight. Time and stress had not been kind to her friend— or perhaps they never had been to begin with. It seemed insult to injury that age would catch up with him just when he’d turned a new corner, finally looking ahead instead of looking back.
All the same, a bright smile spread over her face at his words, and she lay a hand over one of his in greeting, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"It’s so good to see you again, Friedrich."
It truly was.