#t; eric

[eloiseclarke]

Lies & Truths

@ericbrandonrp

Time had passed rather quickly after the incident both she and Eric had to watch regarding Goeth's dogs. The death had haunted them both, though they rarely, if ever, discussed what had occurred. They both were having paranoia issues, both were beginning to feel as if all were coming unraveled, yet they remained each other's strength in hard times. When one was feeling frightened, the other came to their aid and spoke words of kindness and optimism. It was fate that these two had found each other and that together, they were going to do what they felt was their duty to England and America, and to all those who suffered.

Tonight there was a dinner, only a few guests would be present, mostly top figures of the Nazi party who had been there to discuss the possible move of Amon Goeth's position. Eloise had done her best to make preparations, as she always did. She made sure the dining room was exceptionally spotless, the silver polish, the plates in order, and the wine ready. After dinner there would be a time to mingle in the smoking room, where people could speak freely about the Reich and where the party was headed. It was nothing out of the ordinary and Eloise felt that this was just another way for Goeth to convince anyone and everyone that he was fit to continue leading this camp, especially after reporting the traitor to the Fuhrer.

Things were set, candles were lit, and people were coming into the foyer where servants waited to take off their coats and hang them appropriately, guiding them into the dining room where anyone was free to sit.

It was elegant, but casual, and Eloise had chosen a red dress and black shoes, forgoing a hat that would have made too big of a statement. Her wrist was encrusted with a beautiful diamond bracelet that Goeth had purchased for her to wear, along with earrings and perfume. While it wasn't an odd thing for the man to get uncomfortably close to her at times, tonight it felt weird, as if he were saying he had possession over her by making her wear these items. As to not make waves, she indulged, and had put the perfume on her pulse points; the wrists, behind the ears, and in between the valley of her small bosom. People complimented the scent as she greeted them and took their coats, thanking them and giving credit where credit was due.

Soon, everyone bustled into the dining room and took their seats. Eloise sat across from Eric, as Goeth had requested, and she sat with her spine straight and her shoulders held back, drinking as much as she could to at least be amiable.

Soup was to come first, but nobody barely touched it, the conversation at the table too loud and boisterous, expressing how well the camp was going, how the Jews were soon going to be taken to a new camp called Auschwitz, a workers camp they had said. Eloise held little opinion of this, at least verbally, considering she knew what it meant for those poor souls who would arrive.

“Does she not look in fine form tonight, gents?” Goeth said as he extended a hand towards Eloise, the only female at the table. Why could he not have invited other secretaries? Was this a game to him? Plenty of men were in agreement, but her eyes flicked away from her soup to Eric, giving him a smirk as to say, “their opinions mean nothing, it is all for you.”

[mellywatts-blog]

TEXT — ricky b.

mel: check your bank account.

[eloiseclarke]

Turning of the Tide

@ericbrandonrp

One week, that was all it took for things to change so quick that the young American lieutenant’s head was spinning. They hadn’t a plan, but they had a goal and she was waiting for the opportune time for both she and Eric to finally put it all into play. However, set backs were shooting left and right as Goeth left town for a few days to help for Oskar Schindler for some unmentioned cause. Rumor had it he had been imprisoned for kissing a Jew. Whether this was true or not, Eloise did not care for everyone had orders.

What had been most unexpected was the sickness that befell Eloise. It had started a few weeks prior, she was vomiting and cramping. While she thought it had been something she ate or nervousness, she counted her calendar to find something shocking, no scratch that, horrifying. 

All morning she had been avoiding contact with Eric, she was doing her duties as secretary and ensuring the house was running smoothly and while some felt they could breathe, meaning Helen or anyone else, Elle felt more trapped than ever. She made it a point to stay away from the man, even during meetings that were private, mainly about the Jewish question, a new label that had come into play after a meeting months ago.

That morning she was feeling tired, her mind preoccupied with the news that was going to change everything, and it had nothing to do with the return of Goeth.

[eloiseclarke]

Ad Nauseam | Eric

@ericbrandonrp

It was the only word her mind could think as it scattered about the images that blurred into her head to create a masterpiece of horror on a blank canas. Unfortunate her canvas was in her mind and it was nearly filled to the brim with everything she had ever witnessed or accompanied, and God forbid she did herself.

She was squeezing her firsts together tightly, then loosely let them return to normal, then again she’d squeeze. She wasn’t trying to warm her hands regardless of the heavy snowfall or the chill in the air that had to have been at least in the negative numbers.

Her attired had changed since she arrived, no long was she just the secretary but the right hand woman who went everywhere with Goeth, taking notes, giving people bad marks for things out of their control. She even had to stand in front of a large pit, watch crying men and women kneel, then get shot in the back of the head. Blood still peppered parts of her right cheek, maybe some smeared as she tried to rid herself of it. How was it that, as a nurse, she never knew how much blood would splurt out of a head?

She cited illness, cramps to be vulgar, and she had been dismissed. She walked down the stone walkway that had been made of headstones, a constant reminder as to what happened behind these...wire barbed fences. The cruelty of it all, like they were cattle, though they produced nothing but “headaches, headaches, headaches,” Goeth would tout. 

The gates were opened as her outfit had changed too, she now had medals, and a thicker wool skirt and jacket. She was now considered to be a high ranking official female Nazi that other women would salute. She refused to beat or torture those there, but she at least could throw shade and say it was not her duties. She  walked fast, so fast she could feel herself warming up, like her cheeks, but she had tears streaming down her face and chilling her.

She was shaking uncontrollably; was it the cold? Or was it the coldness of the Nazi party?

She finally made it back to the villa and slammed the door, throwing her jacket at a Jewish man, along with a riding crop as she looked around.

“Where is he?” She demanded. “Where is Obersturmführer Schneider? I need to see him immediately. Tell him I’m in the study.”

“Ma’am, he is out in the camps, I cannot-”

“Do not give me that! I need him now and you are going to find him. Send aletter, a pigeon, a goddamn smoke signal if you must. I’m going to go set up drinks for us both and he best appear shortly or I’ll cut off the rest of what your Rabbi left behind!”

[eloiseclarke]

@ericbrandonrp

A smirk fell on her rouged lips that had lost its color through the last few hours, and last few drinks. Eloise was tipsy, far more than she'd like to admit, and she couldn't help herself curious about the man she had been working aside secretly for all these months. Who was he aside from what she saw in a cubby hole? Was he as funny as he appeared to be with Hitler and the rest of the Nazi party members, or was that a ruse? Was he as flirty? Was he as calm and cool?

Furrowing her brow as she leaned her hip against the bar, holding her martini glass haphazardly as her eyes studied the well-dressed Eric Brandon like a briefing from the American Army, she shook her head slightly to rid her forehead of brunette hair.

“Do you always look this lovely in uniform...sir?”

[eloiseclarke]

Tausendjähriges Reich

ericbrandonrp

The day was chilly, no cooler than any other Autumn afternoon. The breeze was light and cool to the skin, rustling loose colorful leaves ready to fall off the branches. Eloise had never disliked the countryside, in fact she was quite fond of it, though if you were to ask her on a particularly boring day that was too cold for one to lounge about outside, she’d be disagreeable.

Where she was she still didn’t know, just that she had a job to do and a job she was to do well or else her entire act would collapse and she’d not have a single person there to help her. It was a scary job she had been put in charge of, everyone back at the CP and back in Washington D.C made that very clear when she was briefed about the situation and given her orders. The operation didn’t have a name, in fact nobody back home called it much of anything except ‘that thing dealing with the Commandant’s secretary’ and nobody dared to call it spying. There was no paper trail to lead anyone to it, no record of conversations, and few people knew about what was being asked of the woman.

As far as anyone was concerned, save those select few who she would be reporting back to, she was a young German woman taking up a job with a Commandant, a man in charge of some large scale camp where they were keeping Jews, Poles, and any other people the Führer found unsavory. It hadn’t been too hard to intercept the memo of needing assistance, after all when one was running a rather large camp that led directly to the Führer the allies kept close watch on the man from a distance.

The Commandant had a lot of paperwork, calls, letters, and responsibilities to the Führer in which he had asked for an agreeable, talented, Christian German to help handle the load. The pay was to be nice and the room and board was to be provided, but the most enticing part of it all was that she’d be surrounded by SS.

Trained on how to fulfill all duties asked of the Commandant, along with making the man tea or coffee, tidy up his office, and make sure everything was running smoothly, Eloise was also trained to take advantage of knowing the man’s hours and being able to know where he kept everything. Aside from pretending to be someone she wasn’t, the woman would report back to her superiors and maybe smuggle a thing or two out of there all in the name of winning the war.

Having arrived in the spring, it hadn't taken her long to settle in, though she had been there long enough to watch the camp nearby take shape and to be savvy about what was taking place inside of it. Upon arrival, she never knew if he had children or was married, information sparse for authenticity. All she was allowed to know was that man was SS, an Obersturmbannführer, in charge of an internment camp, but better yet a link to Hitler himself.

As she walked around the premises, a routine that she was given after lunch, she heard a car driving up towards the house and causing her to pause in her step, watching the black vehicle slowly move from the road to circle towards the front of the vast house. Curiosity drew her attention away from her walk and she soon descended upon the man stepping out of the car, the chauffeur she had grown to know.

“Wie Geht's?” She said politely, German still sounding foreign to her ears despite living there for a few months.

While the young woman’s German was not as polished as she would have liked, she at least felt confident enough nobody would notice, and that was what everyone was hoping. The brunette American Lieutenant opened the front door for the man, the visitor, watching as the chauffeur responded positively and opened the car door for the new arrival.

She could not remember his name, or what his position was within the German Army, but she did recall being given orders to show him around, to help him adjust. Disgust was something she had to swallow daily when surrounded by radicals within the regime, but the goal was what managed to keep her going. But how long, she'd wonder from time to time when she was alone in her tiny little room upstairs trying to remember what English was, could she keep up the charade before she finally snapped?

[tessjenner-oth-blog]

Text || Eric

Tess: Can we talk?