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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[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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His heart flutters, and he hates the weakness it brings up in him. Rather than succumb entirely to calling out for Avery like a lost child, he grips the handle of his weapon tightly, ready to draw it and pounce in an instant if there's any movement he doesn't like.
...After a moment, he knocks on the doorframe, seeing as the door is a bit of a lost cause. ]
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Thankfully, there doesn't seem to be blood either, at least from the angle Ekkehardt is at.]
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Almost absentmindedly, he lifts a table and puts it back upright in its proper place. It hasn't been damaged much, though the scratches will probably need buffing out. ]
Avery?
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And then the door--or what's left of it--opens, the man in question grumbling under his breath as he tries to drag in sacks of cleaning supplies, a couple of brooms awkwardly tucked under his chin]
Bastards... This is why I want to move this Office to a freaking Nest!
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He relieves Avery of the brooms and one of the sacks, setting them down in an easily reachable place. ] So what did we do to get this neighbourly greeting?
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My guess? Either some small Syndicate trying to reach the big time, or whatever remained of that Syndicate that went after you trying to get some revenge. Could go either way, really.
[He looks around and then freezes, letting out a cry of despair]
They even got the damn coffee maker! Who goes that far?!
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He starts to pull the overturned furniture into some semblance of order. Sweeping seems like a futile effort right now when there's so much mess already. ]
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[Overdramatic much?]
But I'll take it. A good Office needs a heart, and I'm not about to forgive those jackasses for breaking ours!
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