Ekkehardt Gehring (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spelleton) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
datadiving2021-05-25 01:32 pm
spelleton) wrote in datadiving2021-05-25 01:32 pmlobcorp/ruina AU catchall
[ I'd have something witty here but i'm very tired today so you just get a placeholder ]
spelleton) wrote in datadiving2021-05-25 01:32 pm
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And yet, despite his doubt, in a fit of sentimentality that Avery was sure must be pitiful, he'd popped a bag of popcorn and left it on the desk that would be Ekkehardt's if he came in.
And he did.
The past month was tense--it still is, really. It's like getting to know a different person, after all, what with how much the two of them have changed since the last time they saw one another. But the two of them are nothing if not professionals, and for that Avery is thankful.
What he isn't thankful for is the fact that Ekkehardt is late, and he glares daggers at the door to the Office, steaming cup of coffee hovering near his lips without a single drop drained.]
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And that's not even beginning to touch on the living bandages he seems to have winding around his body, some other power he's never elaborated on.
He doesn't knock this time, and the reason becomes obvious, as he leans against the doorframe to regain his balance. One of them had managed to wound his leg, which was annoying even with his ability to heal such damage, and it had made him late for work.
He's splattered with blood. To his credit, it seems as if he'd cleaned up a little before coming in, to avoid tracking it all over Avery's office. ]
My apologies. This morning's commute presented some [ pause ] little problems. Nothing I couldn't deal with, but they did slow me down.
[ The sword is still halfway out of its sheath, the gold hilt poking out like a gaudy little accessory. It, too, is stained with drying blood. ]
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Right. Medicine. Of course that's the one thing I forget about this whole time. What kind of Fixer forgets about that?
[He manages to pull out a first-aid kit and hurries over to guide Ekkehardt over to one of the seats, setting the kit behind him and opening it, hands hovering over the various tools within.]
Going to need a little more elaboration than that if you want to be patched up right, Ekke.
[He tries to sound unbothered, but his lips are thin and a faint worried glimmer in his eye manages to betray his true thoughts.]
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You're more interested in contracts, not combat. [ He winces as he settles into the chair and his body makes it very clear, in no uncertain terms, how he feels about this treatment. ] It's not as if medicine is going to see much use.
I can treat my own leg, but I suppose my back could probably use a little first aid. [ He shrugs off his tattered coat and leans forward, lifting his shirt to reveal a crisscrossing series of bloodied knife wounds marring his back. ]
I can't say much for their skill, or else they'd have been able to wound me more deeply, but their enthusiasm is unparalleled. [ He shifts a little and hisses. ] I suppose numbers does even the odds a little.
[ And, of course, the uniform is a wash. He'll have to get new clothes. ]
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Sounds about right. They're bold here, that's for sure. A high-profile target like you must have seemed like the perfect opportunity for glory.
[For a bunch of fools, anyway. Colors handled worse than them practically as part of a regular routine.]
I'm ordering you a uniform from my contact. You're going to need something made of better fabric than that going forward.
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He bites his lip once and makes a small noise of discomfort as Avery begins treating his cuts, but other than that, it seems like even this amount of injury is well below his pain threshold. ]
Well. You're my superior. I won't argue with it. [ His Color gear had been special quality, but he doesn't want to wear it any more. All he can think about when he shrugs it on was the blood of a Distortion splattered across it, stained chaotic (childish) colours. ] It'll make me less likely to be late, if these things do happen again.
[ He awkwardly draws the sword from its concealing case, beginning to work on cleaning off the blood. ]
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[A dry joke, and not even close to being one of Avery's best.
He casts a brief glance down at the sword, then continues working, grabbing an ointment to begin closing the wounds up.]
Another souvenir from your former place of employment?
[There's something familiar about it. Not necessarily in that he knows what it is, but it definitely reminds him of something.]
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Oh. This? Yes. [ He continues cleaning it. The voice of the Abnormality it was made from wavers and whispers in his mind; it's almost nostalgic. Birdsong, a dark forest, a bird who cared so much about its home that it accidentally destroyed it... ] Once upon a time, there was a dark forest, and in it lived three birds....It's a weapon that came from something part of that tale.
Not that I know where it is now. Perhaps it's gone back home. [ If there was anything left of it, or anything that dared to live there. ]
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[He'd been wondering about that ever since L Corp collapsed. He supposes it was too much to hope that all the Abnormalities that Ekkehardt had talked about before had been crushed or destroyed in the process.]
I've heard that tale, though. It was a pretty popular one back when I was a kid. Didn't think it was real at the time, but frankly? It's hard to tell what is and isn't real these days.
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But with all the Distortions happening, I suppose it is hard to tell. [ He straightens out his leg with another soft hiss, pulling up his pant leg to reveal it wrapped tightly in red bandages. They pulse, gently. ] I hear the Ruins have gotten even stranger, since then.
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Even stranger? I didn't think that was possible. What, did all the Abnormalities run off in that direction?
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Not that he'd be let on. ]
But from what I've heard, it's gotten even more surreal. Not that we're likely to get any contracts out that way, but...well.
[ He unravels the bandages around his leg. Good as new, with only a few bloodied scars to show where his injuries were. Centered around the knee, mostly.
A bullet drops from the wrappings with a clink. He ignores it for now, leaning over to fish around in the first aid kit for something to clean off the blood.] And here I didn't think anything could change that place.
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The White Nights and Dark Days have changed a lot of things.
[He reaches down to pick up the bullet, rolling it between his finger and thumb, ignoring the blood coating it.]
How many people in that group that went after you had guns?
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Just one. He was a little smarter than the rest. Hung back a little. He shot me in the leg so the others could jump me.
[ He smiles, thinly, as he cleans off the last of the blood from his scars. ] Wasn't smart enough to get out of range of me, though.
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Ha! Probably thought a little firepower was all he needed. That's why you'll never catch me using a firearm--it's just a fancy, expensive toy that ends up going to your head.
[He's neither skilled nor modified enough to be able to deflect bullets, but he knows they don't work nearly as well on higher grade Fixers.]
Seriously, they'd be better off spending an arm and a leg on a new arm and leg.
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[ He glances briefly at the ornate augmentations Avery has, and then rolls down his pant leg, finished with his task. ] ...Thank you for the help. By the way. [ It's a little stiff, but it's sincere. He doesn't have a lot of reason to thank people. ]
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I don't know what to think. I rather thought you'd like it better that way.
[ He straightens up uncomfortably, leaving the coat where it is. He doesn't have a spare shirt available at this exact moment, so he'll just have to make do with the one he has for now. He busies himself with getting himself decent again. ]
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What in the world gave you that idea?
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[ Easier not to trust anyone, really, when it comes down to it. Not even people he'd been fond of, once. It's too easy for them to turn on each other, to turn on him.
At least Abnormalities were consistent in their betrayals.
He puts his elbows on his knees, hands clasped. ] So I thought it was better not to assume anything beyond the basics.
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Avery walks over to his desk and sets the bullet down, his back to Ekkehardt]
I still don't intend to talk about that... incident.
[He practically growls the word, but takes a breath, steadying himself.]
But that has nothing to do with our previous friendship, nor the possibility of a continuing one. Just stay away from that.
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He sees distortion everywhere. He sees it on Avery, too, nestled comfortably. Sometimes bigger, sometimes smaller. But it's just one more thing he can't speak of. ]
Fine.
[ The word is bitter in his mouth. It comes out bitter, too. It's not as if he wants to particularly talk about that incident that had lost Avery his legs and almost his life; it's simply a reminder that the distance between them is a gulf, another weight around his neck.
His strange power that he gained at the cost of another's life (or, at least, it felt that way); it wipes away blood and wounds, even cleans away the scars given enough time.
He had hoped for normalcy, perhaps, some small splinter of it. But it's an unfair expectation to have.
Silly, to have hope.
He scrubs the last of the blood off his weapon and busies himself with sliding it back into his case. ]
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Oh please. You're really going to act that put out about it? What, you think there aren't any other topics to talk about? You do know that there are other things in my life than that, don't you?
[The words are somewhat sharp and accusatory, defensive and, somewhat, betrayed. After all these years, is Ekkehardt really going to get upset with him for not wanting to talk about every tiny little detail of his life?]
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It's complicated. Like so many other things in his life seem to be. ]
It's not about that. I'm not going to force you to talk about it. I - hm. [ He seems about to say something, and then cuts himself off. He doubts Avery would appreciate the idea of him being capable of Distorting. ] Never mind. [ He just waves a hand, pushing himself up from the chair. ] I regret it, that's all.
[ Ekkehardt used to be honest, possibly to a fault. He's far more cryptic now than he was back then. ]
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All right. In that case, let's look over our potential contracts for the day.
---
[There are no lights on in the Office the next day, and the scent of fresh-brewed coffee is absent. The office is a mess, with windows broken, furniture smashed, files and records ripped and burned.
Avery is nowhere to be found, the destroyed Office eerily silent.]
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