#deidrich

[red-butler]

[mybutlermybutlerandme]

Vincent: I bet a clever person like you could find a way around those guards though, right?

Deidrich: You know, Vincent? I bet a clever person like me may be able to find a way around those guards.

Vincent: I thought so! You know what, from the day we met I knew there was something special about you, Deidrich.

Deidrich: That I'm going to help you do a federal crime.

[ume-chan-sensei]

Yes, I’m still Gaia trash. No, you can’t stop me.

[tinaillustrations]

This is an AU where the Phantomhives are Mafia and also a VincentxRachel pair (because I’m a fan of them). 

Rachel have a strong perception and a cheerful young lady . You won’t be able to tell that Rachel has poor health because she act’s like a guy/tomboyish. Angelina a shy nerd but wanted to be a doctor (like in manga) and has a huge crush on Vincent .Both of them are still studying.

Vincent (do I need to tell what he is like?) a complicated man XD .To be honest I have mixed feelings on Vincent’s fashion and of course our Frances is still looking strict as ever.

Deidrich is still a fag of Vincent and of course a glutton ,he also loves to eat Pocky. 

Please credit me if you want to re-post thanks!

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If you want to see more of my drawings follow me on :

Tumblr (mkrondilla), Instagram , DA

[trineocs-blog]

Random Marcel and Deidrich Drabble

So, saw the Bastion Overwatch short this morning, and it made me want to write something about my precious, sweet dork of a robot OC, Marcel.

So have a thing where him and his buddy Deidrich are traversing a battlefield and town destroyed in a recent skirmish, and ruminating on the nature of war.

Also, a little backstory on these two, since I haven't given them (or anyone else here) proper profiles yet:

Marcel is a "Laborer," one of a race of robots created by humans to do heavy labor in extreme conditions, as well as having medical and military potential if trained. Laborers tend to get along with their creators, and generally want to become more human-like. Marcel in particular is quite fond of humans.

He was a sniper and carried out several assassinations during a war between an allied front of Humans and Laborers against a hivemind of monsters accidentally created by humans during a race to create superior bioweapons. He also served as a nurse and worked in an in-vitro fertilization clinic on a spaceship after the war.

Deidrich was born a giant on a world inhabited by fantasy creatures. He was mute, but proved his power in battle, rising to the rank of general during a bloody war to expand the territory his species had control over, leading to a clash where the gods of his world passed down judgement on his species. They were was attacked and nearly wiped out by dragons, sent down by the patron god of the giants to punish them. 

Deidrich has since become human and gained the ability to speak thanks to some magic and timeline shenanigans, and him and Marcel have been roped into a war involving two conflicting gods that have control over their entire universe.

Neither of them are happy about this.

(Also, leave it to Marcel to find the most commonly-used example of wartime poetry, at least around these parts. What a dork.)

Humans often talk about war.

They denounce it for its violence and casualties, yet tell stories of valor, of sacrifice and virtue in wartime.

Humans, always paradoxical.

"You alright, Marcel?"

The android looked up from the body at his feet, his red optics focusing ahead on his comrade, a loud whir and a click reverberating through Marcel's head as his internal cooling system fought to keep up with his processor.

A thousand tasks, open and running at once: damage assessment, topography analysis, global positioning, battlefield simulations, compiling and summarizing losses, weighing primary and secondary objectives, retrieving wound treatment procedures...

...pulling up archives of wartime versus post-wartime literature. Accessing file "Dulce Et Decorum Est-Owen.txt."

"Marcy?"

Another whir and a click, the android stepping over obstacles with inhuman grace and efficiency: the others always said that Marcel had something uncanny about him, that his movement was too fluid, his canned, emotionless voice, those red, glowing optics, and lack of a complete face made him somewhat unsettling to be around, to say the least.

But Deidrich just smiled at his friend as he approached, gently taking Marcel's cold, mechanical hand in his and helping him up onto the top of a steep hill, a completely unnecessary action for a machine as deft and powerful as Marcel was.

It was little actions like this, with no fear of contact, gestures done without hesitation, just like he was human, that reminded Marcel of a simple fact:

He liked being around Deidrich. Very much.

"You see something back there?" Deidrich asked as the android locked stride next to him.

Deidrich was a towering man, well over six and a half feet tall, and muscular to boot, yet Marcel's lithe, unassuming, five foot tall frame kept pace with him easily, looking like it took no effort at all...

Which it didn't: he had been built for traversing treacherous terrain and long days of work: his kind had been named "Laborers" for a reason, after all.

"No. Have you ever heard Wilfred Owen's poem 'Dulce et Decorum Est'?"

"Sounds kind of familiar."

"I'm thinking about a specific part."

Deidrich gave a small nod: he knew the others had a tendency to cut Marcel off, so often in fact that Marcel waited for a nod or acknowledgment before speaking nowadays.

The android spoke, his synthetic, monotone voice following the cadence of the words as best it could:

"'My friend, you would not tell with such high zest to children ardent for some desperate glory, the old lie: dulce et decorum est pro patria mori.'"

"Ohhhhh, that one. Yea, I've heard that one."

"What do you think about it? You were a general once."

"Well, you fought in a war too: what do you think?"

"I never fought on a battlefield: I was trained in long-range weaponry. I was tasked with assassinations and never saw field duty."

"Ah, yea. Sorry...well, you know how my war ended: we fought for our country and what we thought was our right, and we got wiped out. The gods judged us."

Deidrich took a moment, careful to step over, and not on top of, a pair of bodies at his feet.

"We were bitter, angry, full of the rage of youth and the arrogance and strength it brought. We thought we could brute-force our way to prosperity..."

He didn't need to look to know that Marcel was staring intently at him, wanting to hear more.

"I think it's pretty true: patriotism is great until it blinds you to what you're doing. There's nothing noble about fighting and dying for a country that's in the wrong. We got too caught up and did horrible things."

When Deidrich didn't say anything further, the android tilted his head, answering:

"I don't like war, Deidrich."

The man smiled, chuckling.

"I know you don't, Marcel."

Deidrich reached over, resting a hand on top of the the android's head, Marcel staring up at him, silent.

Where others saw aggression, danger in the way Marcel would occasionally stare, intently, into someone's eyes, Deidrich knew better. He gave the android a second to gather his thoughts...

And there was the whir and click, this conversation logged for later analysis and continuation. Deidrich may not know the first thing about machines, but he had spent a good chunk of his life sitting in silence himself, watching people, figuring out how they worked, and Marcel wasn't that different from them at all.

Marcel grabbed Deidrich's arm as he began to pull it away from his head, speaking at a slightly louder volume than usual:

"You have three spots of minor internal bleeding, two lacerations on your right shoulder, and a blunt-force injury to your lower back."

Deidrich rose an eyebrow and chuckled.

"Can it wait until we're back at base, doc?"

Another whir and a click.

"Yes."

Deidrich smiled, watching as Marcel strode out ahead of him a bit, the android's gait slightly faster, bouncier than before: he simply couldn't understand how anyone could think of Marcel as anything other than alive.

Here he was, practically skipping, talking about war, worried about minor injuries, and quoting poetry...

Deidrich looked behind him, staring at the ruined, burned-out buildings, charred and dead landscape, and the bodies strewn about, left like so much debris on the ground.

If there was anything in this forsaken place Deidrich was willing to fight for, delve back into war for...

It was for people like Marcel.

[trineocs-blog]

Trees?

Cue the loud noises of confusion from all present.

Hie’gei: ...is that a question?

Sarah: Do you have a question about trees?

Deidrich: *motions to all the trees outside* We have trees here, if that’s what you’re asking. 

Sarah: If you’re asking if you can have some of the trees, that’s a no. Somebody probably planted them at some point and that might be illegal.

Azarael: *patiently waiting behind the trees to nail the anon if any tree-stealing occurs*

[psi-psina]

[kuro-butler]

Forming the Snake Defense Squad 2k15