Return from the Ashes

Gunther Engel | 27 | Prisoner of war circa. 1944 disclaimer: views of this character are not those of my own.

[dominick-caputo-deactivated2014]

For those of you smoking:

[dominick-caputo-deactivated2014]

It’s a fact.

[gunther-engel]

Well, considering our circumstances, I think I'll run the risk.

Perhaps you should too, you look like you need a smoke.

[dominick-caputo-deactivated2014]

For those of you smoking:

Stop.

[gunther-engel]

Concerned it's going to kill us?

[sikanapanele-deactivated2018121]

[gunther-engel]

[gunther-engel]

Sitting forward, he fumbled into his coat pocket, pulling out his stolen pack of cigarettes. “You died, right?” He rhetorically asked, hanging a stick from his mouth while he searched for his lighter. He pulled it out, lighting his smoke while he casually stated, “Ending of your...

[gunther-engel]

He took the glass, drawing it to his lips gingerly an carefully drinking it, not sipping as he usually would. The whisky would help take the edge off his pain, for where the ice left sore.

He took a pensive drag of his cigarette at her question. After the decades went by, he had conditioned himself to keep it far in the back of his mind. Too many years were spent antagonizing over things left undone before he was captured. "I was.. unofficially engaged," he finally replied, taking another gulp of the liquor.

"I hadn't gotten the chance to ask her father before I was captured," he explained distantly with a sigh, which held only a hint of annoyance, but mostly disappointment. Truthfully, he had been avoiding asking Karla's father, intimidated by the man. Maybe if he had simply manned up and asked, there would have been one more pleasurable moment for him to reflect on in death.

But there stood only room for regret.

[gunther-engel]

It's A Little Selfish - Maxine & Gunther

[maxinehales]

Maxine dismissed the subtle satisfaction of flustering Gunther as he answered her question. “Mm, I see.” She nodded, and licked her lips pensively when he shot a question back. She glanced away briefly and looked at him again. “Nineteen. I was a legal adult, just too young to marry.” Although, people getting married at nineteen did happen—just not as often for people to think of it as normal. “I was finally setting my life straight and my past came back to bite me,” she added. Hard enough to get her killed. “Parents weren’t around to guide me. I screwed myself over from the beginning with bad choices.”

She shook her head once more, realizing that she was rambling on about shit he couldn’t care less about. “It’s whatever, though. I sound like a whiny child.” She waved it away, not wanting to think about it. ” All she could ever do about it was regret every decision she made that put her in her situation now. It was no use. Maxine set the ice on her lap, eyes distant. “I’m getting something to drink. Did you want anything?” She asked, focusing back on him.

[gunther-engel]

Sitting forward, he fumbled into his coat pocket, pulling out his stolen pack of cigarettes. "You died, right?" He rhetorically asked, hanging a stick from his mouth while he searched for his lighter. He pulled it out, lighting his smoke while he casually stated, "Ending of your life is something to whine about." He blew out the smoke while he leaned back on the sofa, looking back up to Maxine. Perhaps she wasn't from a war-torn country like he was, but she lived and died. And as far as he was concerned, a young death was a tragedy. After all, she was from a different time. "Especially when it's out of your control,"

He gave a heavy sigh when she offered him a drink. He should leave, the thought crossed his mind. This was all too friendly, but even as he had the feeling of not wanting to allow it, the thought of going back to his empty apartment was staggering. Gunther had grown tired of his years of solitude and it kept him here. "Whisky, if you have some. Would be excellent," he responded against his better judgement. "Or I'll take whatever alcohol you have."

[spursy]

[spursy]

[gunther-engel]

It's A Little Selfish - Maxine & Gunther

[maxinehales]

Maxine casually shrugged. There were a lot of things they were never going to agree on, she knew that. Nothing she could do about it. She kept quiet as he acted out his signature defiant mannerisms, focusing on the task at hand. He was lucky she was in the mood to be patient, ‘else she would’ve bruised every other place that was fine. Probably not, because you can never fight fire with fire. She wasn’t stupid. Besides, they weren’t there to discuss about freedom or etiquette, or to host a pity party—they were there because she was doing him a favor, on her own free will.

She choked on her breath at the mention of mother, withdrawing her empty hand and touching her knuckles to her lips as she cleared her throat at the side. She straightened herself. “Mother,” she repeated, pressing her lips together at the thought. No, she wasn’t mother material. Come to think of it, she lost the ability to grow into that kind of mentality. “Why—you interested?” A smirk curled her lips, and she shook her head.

"Flattering, but no. If I had kids around the age I died, I would’ve been labeled some misguided whore. Women in your time married young, though, didn’t they?"

[gunther-engel]

If his face wasn't already reddened from his beating and the numbing ice that had been periodically applied, a blush would have shown. He could feel his face grow hotter however, his eye glancing back to Maxine, almost in surprise. Her implications were bold, a lot more forward than he was used to dealing with. Gunther timidly ran his tongue over his swollen lip, before stammering, "I-I wasn't..." He broke eye contact and gave a defiant frown. There was something inciting in that smirk he couldn't deny. 

Eyes flickered back onto her when she continued answering him. He cocked his head slightly, "A woman baring children labels her as a misguided whore?" He asked with disbelief, his brow attempting to furrow against his injuries. It caused him to wince and give a short, annoyed grunt. "Married young? It's not as if women were thirteen or anything when they got married, no, they weren't really young..." How old was Maxine, he wondered. She did definitely look old enough to marry and even have a child, maybe two. "Are you 'young'?" he inquired.

[gunther-engel]

For What It’s Worth | Gunther/Iris

[iriswhitmore]

  Maybe she did deserve the roll of eyes that came her way. After all, Iris was pretty ridiculous. About as messed up as the next crazy - if you dared to dig deep enough. It’s not as if she got off on pain or anything, it was just nice to feel something that she could name. Instead of confusing indescribable feelings, numbness was so much easier to endure as a sort-of replacement. Knowing that he wouldn’t understand if she tried to explain, Iris just kept her mouth closed about the topic and decided to let him think whatever he wanted.

She shuffled herself around a bit, feet slippery against the ice-cladded pavement beneath them. When he replied to the sleep situation, Iris found herself wondering about how long he had been dealing with the ever-lasting insomnia, nights awake and thinking. Iris was aware of the people that had been here for sometimes even over a hundred years, and it had only been nearing twenty for her and she was still sometimes bordering suicidal. “How long has it been for you, then?”

A sigh made its way out of her mouth as she saw him take out a pack of cigarettes, cold breath visible in the air. She wanted one between her own lips. “Yeah, well, you and me both. Sure you wanna go in the forest, though? I’ve seen a few of those mutated animals. Pretty freaky. Though I’d love to know what would happen if someone were to butcher one of ‘em.”

[gunther-engel]

How long? Gunther had to think about it. Time moved so strangely in this Hell, it was hard to actually gauge. Not to mention his perception of time had been warped since before he died. He didn't know what day or year it was when he finally gave the ghost. In fact, he wasn't even sure what the current year was. Keeping to himself for years, he didn't care to find out how long had passed. Something in the 2000s, he knew, from talking to a few of the other residents.

"Roughly seventy years," He finally replied after some thought. His eyes looked over he again, trying to gauge the era she might have died in. There wasn't anything in her garments that were very telling, however. At least nothing he recognised. Probably some future year. "And you?" He asked after trying to make his own observation, to no avail.

He noticed her sense of longing for a cigarette, but refused to offer one. Obviously women found it a lot more acceptable to smoke in years past, but he couldn't condone it. A beautiful women tainting herself with cigarettes--Gunther wouldn't be a part of it. He shrugged as she asked if he was sure about going into the forest, "I'm sure I can handle a few weird animals," He answered, adjusting the duffle bag on his shoulder, "I have my equipment." 

[gunther-engel]

It's A Little Selfish - Maxine & Gunther

[maxinehales]

"It’s this thing about freedom of speech. It never became a problem unless someone made it one. Otherwise, people didn’t care. Where I lived, everyone was in their own personal bubble." Californians turned out to be more aloof with people they passed by—not all of them, but enough to make her think of it as a general thing.

"Not even me?"

Her hand pressed the ice to his skin for another second or two before she pulled away. Maxine rest her hands on her lap, clutching the cold, damp bulk in her hand. She didn’t break eye contact with him, her lips a straight line as she bit her tongue. If there was one thing she could recall from World War Two, it was that no matter what position people were in, they were just following orders. They were doing it for their families. They were brainwashed into glorifying this idea of victory.

"Not even you. I mean it." She held a serious tone, her gaze soft—the opposite of their last encounter. She thought she was going to keep her hard look when she’d meet him again, like she did with Luke. However, it was hard to keep something up that you would eventually get tired with. If she didn’t start forgiving him for his past mistakes, who would?

The redhead brought  an empty hand to his face, her fingertips skimming over the areas that had dried quickly. It was an improvement from what he looked like when they first stumbled in, wiping most of the blood away. Still, she brought the chill back to his face before the pain came back again.

[gunther-engel]

"Freedom of speech is no excuse for disrespect," He mumbled in response, a ting of annoyance from her freedom lecture. Perhaps freedom yielded disrespect, he wondered. But there was more than that which went into the future's lack of etiquette, he had imagined.

He rolled his eyes a little as she persisted to take his side. Foolish of her. This wouldn't make him like her any better, Gunther assured himself. If this was some way to bridge the gap between them, it wouldn't work. He appreciated the help, but he wasn't going to fall for it. At least, that's what he insisted to himself.

The fingertips grazing across his skin caused him to tense ever-so-slightly, his eye darting towards Maxine. The delicacy of her touch was comforting. Even though she touched sore flesh, it wasn't painful with how lightly she touched. "You're rather good at this," He commented gruffly, his eye focusing on the coffee table. "Were you a mother?"

[sikanapanele-deactivated2018121]

[billskarsgardbr]

[gunther-engel]

It's A Little Selfish - Maxine & Gunther

[maxinehales]

And lash out, he did. Maxine was used to people yelling, drunk off their asses, but this guy was so abrupt, so unexpected. She flinched at every word he spat, as if she was dodging them. That was right—they used faggot just as often as they did in her time. It was something that her friends loosely used. There were a lot of words loosely used thrown around in her environment that made her numb to offense. As long as they weren’t directed toward her.

Maxine shook her head, regardless of whether he could see her or not. “Don’t worry about it.” Vulgarity had been her life. There wasn’t any difference if someone from the past showed it. She tongued the inside of her cheek as she brushed the thumb of her free hand against his other cheek, wiping away the drops of blood that scattered from his nose.

"I saw a man lying in the snow, his face cut up, swollen, and the first thing on my mind was to help him. So I did it." She tilted her head slightly, her eyelids lowered as she continued her work. "No one deserves to suffer out there." She sighed through her nose, noticing the red red spreading on the white cloth.

[gunther-engel]

The German would have shook his head at her dismissing his cursing—if it was possible to do without causing piercing agony. “I guess it doesn’t… mean much in future years,” He replied, wincing half way through his sentence. Gunther, however, was always very keen to keep himself respectful around women. Growing up with his two sisters and mother, she always made sure that he minded his manners when addressing ladies.

Maxine wasn’t really the idea of a lady that his mother referenced to. Not the type of lady the German usually dealt with at all. Not in life, anyway. All the women from years after his death were a lot more mouthy, spoke up exactly what they thought and didn’t give two shits. They swore, they smoked, drank—they acted completely independent. It was dreadfully annoying to deal with, but somehow strangely intriguing. Enticing.

He laughed when she said no one deserved to be left out there, but retaliated with a grunt as moving his face so much caused pain. Wouldn’t be the first time, he bitterly replied to himself. Not that she cared, or he would be willing to admit it. As far as everyone knew, Gunther died as a brave soldier in the line of battle. Not as some starved, broken and will-less prisoner treated as poorly as a Jew deserved in his last days.

"Not even me?" The words didn’t hint at any type of self-pity, but held his usual condescending tone, challenging her. He saw everyone else as his enemy and they—at least from what he understood—viewed him as a historical monster one way or another. Gunther was sure if anyone else had walked by, they would have investigated his situation and spat on him. After all, that’s what he would have done.

[gunther-engel]

[gunther-engel]

The couch came as a relief once he was lain on it. His face was still a swollen, radiating epicenter of pain, however. He needed something cold on it, he knew. “Do you have a steak?” Gunther asked as he rolled back into the soft plush of the couch. “Maybe two…”

Normally, he…

[gunther-engel]

He only made a faint hissing noise when she first applied the ice. It was painfully cold, the pressure of it against his freshly swollen face and broken nose alarming. After that making sure he didn’t show any signs of discomfort—even clenching his jaw hurt. He didn’t want to exhibit his pain to her.

"Fucking faggot attacked me," he lied, drawing back as she reapplied the cloth with a hiss, "Careful!" Blood from his nose was getting into his mouth, but he swallowed it. Gunther had already swallowed enough blood from his broken teeth to make him feel sick, but he ignored it. "Accused me of steal his shit."

The German suddenly realised his vulgarity in front of her, “Sorry,” he mumbled, “I don’t mean to be so foul.” He opened the eye that would still do so, watching Maxine brush the hair out of her face. She was still only vague shapes, but in the lighting of the apartment, he could make out more colours. “Why… are you doing this?” He asked, his voice strained as he tried to hide his pain.

[gunther-engel]

[gunther-engel]

"Maxine?" He repeated, very faintly.

He jumped ever-so-slightly at her touch, taking his hand. He wasn’t expecting the contact to be so direct. “I’m fine,” He objected with a groan as she started to help him up. His head throbbed and suddenly gravity’s affect was far too...

[gunther-engel]

The couch came as a relief once he was lain on it. His face was still a swollen, radiating epicenter of pain, however. He needed something cold on it, he knew. "Do you have a steak?" Gunther asked as he rolled back into the soft plush of the couch. "Maybe two..."

Normally, he would expect a women to know exactly what to do in this situation, but Maxine was from another time. From what he had witnessed with the women from future generations was their lack of... Well, what Gunther could only refer to as womanhood. They had no sense of being a true lady.

While she shuffled around to find things to, he assumed, patch him up, he gazed at the distant ceiling above him. The pressure building in his face was so intense he would rather just take a coping saw to it and completely remove the front of his skull. He let out a groan, wondering how long it would take to heal. The German would be unable to leave his apartment until the marks were gone. There was no way he was letting that Soviet have the sweet satisfaction of seeing the damage he caused.

[gunther-engel]

It's A Little Selfish - Maxine & Gunther

[maxinehales]

He was conscious, just… very confused.That was what usually happened to people who get their face beat in real bad. Questions were already revolving in her mind, almost making her feel dizzy, but she managed to shoo it away for a later time. She was gonna have to get him somewhere warm and comfortable, first.

She watched him, squinting her eyes and wincing when he moved and exposed other angles of his face. Christ, he couldn’t even remember what her name was—unless that was just how he usually was. Nonetheless, the redhead reached for his searching hand, taking hold of  it, soft skin against rough which admittedly felt uncomfortable. “Close enough. it’s Maxine.” She leaned close enough so he could hear, auburn hair cascading over her shoulder. Just the right distance so she wouldn’t have anything to do with his bruises. “Let me help you up.”

Maxine’s other hand made its way to his shoulder, and with the best of her ability, pulled him as gentle as she could for him to sit up. Then, after a short wait, she proceeded to pull him to his feet, which wouldn’t be so bad if he participated. “Easy,” she reminded him, and hauled his arm over her shoulder. She moved forward, shifting between the path and the person she was aiding, which wasn’t as easy as it was the first time. This guy was a little heavier. Still, she had done this once—she was ready to do it again.

[gunther-engel]

"Maxine?" He repeated, very faintly. 

He jumped ever-so-slightly at her touch, taking his hand. He wasn't expecting the contact to be so direct. "I'm fine," He objected with a groan as she started to help him up. His head throbbed and suddenly gravity's affect was far too apparent. The muscles of his face felt as if the ground was magnetically pulled them towards it and he let out another, long moan. Gunther allowed her to help him up, even though he had protested.

"Where' you taking me?" He asked desperately, his sentences being reduced only to vague syllables. Maxine. Their last encounter had been bitter, he suddenly recalled. How fortunate for her to find him laying in the snow, beaten and nearly blind. Was she trying to get back at him? She could easily lead him somewhere dangerous and leave him to die.

A sense of urgency came over him and he attempted to open his eyes further, to no avail. Face swelling too much. "What're... you doing?" He groaned, unable to stop or pull away from her guiding him. He didn't have the energy for it. Or, rather, he couldn't find it within himself. While he refused to believe she was helping him out of the kindness of her heart, there was a part of him that was holding onto the hope that she, in fact, was. 

[gunther-engel]

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and if you would call me your sweetheart i'd maybe then sing you a song but there's shit that i've done with this fuck of a gun you would cry out your eyes all along