Simple Fleshwounds [Gilbert + Roderich]

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Post by Gilbert Weilschmidt on Fri Sep 23, 2011 8:30 pm

Gilbert recklessly dove through the streets. He was quite a sight for poor Victorian eyes. His top in no way covered a decent amount of flesh due to the tattered state it was in. It instead pooled about his torso, destroyed and flowing out behind him, the remnants of something once beautiful and unfairly traded from the orient. The masterfully crafted tatters were also marred by gushing blood that stained the fabric a rich red in blotchy, uneven, patterns.

Needless to say, the Prussian was not in a good state. His body was torn in several places, adding to the already innumerable amount of scars littering his body. This time, there had been a skirmish amongst smugglers, fighting over clients and betrayals. It was a silly argument (in Gilbert's opinion), but tempers flared, perhaps alcohol had been consumed and added to the rage, and guns were drawn. Gilbert was not the winner of the fight. As he darted through the crowd, the albino supposed he deserved it, if the amount of people he killed himself was anything to go by.

It still was quite unawesome.

Luckily for the smuggler, there were quite a few doctors that would take care of him with no questions. It was a dreadful pain to have people query about the nature of his business while he was dying. When the lawless men were on better terms, they often swapped suggestions for doctors and bars and other places that would leave them be. Funny thing, the name Roderich Edelstein came up quite a few times. That is where the bloody mess of an albino was heading now.

And upon arriving at the establishment, Gilbert wasted no time on formalities. He stormed in with the last of his stubborn strength, leaving drips of blood on the floor behind him, uncaring of anyone who may have seen. He shouted, once safely in the building.

“Oi! You doctor! Roderich Edelstein! Get over here! I'm dying!”
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Post by Former Austria on Sat Sep 24, 2011 8:41 am

Roderich sighed tiredly as he showed what was hopefully the last patient for the day out of the clinic, which also happened to double as his home. The woman, a mother who's son had fallen out of a tree and was now sporting a sling, sent him a grateful look. "Thank you, Doctor Edelstein." He returned the look with a weary smile, lifting a hand to massage his temple as soon as their backs were turned. Gott, he needed a smoke right now. Shutting the door, he turned and headed straight for his office, leaving the thankfully empty room where patients usually awaited their turn for treatment. The Austrian sat himself down at his desk, loosening his cravat as his hand blindly searched the desk drawer for the cheap packet of cigarettes he had hidden there. He hadn't had one in weeks and today had been particularily stressing.

However, just as his fingertips brushed against the box, the Austrian heard yelling coming from the waiting room. He froze. It was only when he heard the words 'doctor' and 'dying' that he came rushing into the other room. He wasn't quite ready for the sight that greeted him. "Mein Gott..." The fact that the other man was bleeding all over the pristine floor shouldn't have bothered him, but for some reason it did.

It was obvious the other was a smuggler, many had came and went and Roderich had long since learnt how to identify them. The Austrian wasted no time helping the man into his office, sitting him down on one of the beds. "Try and stay calm. I want you to answer my questions carefully, give as much detail as you possibly can," he said quickly, trying to remain calm himself. The other man was covered in blood, his shirt torn to pieces and barely hiding the multiple gashes that peppered his torso, judging by how clean cut they were Roderich assumed that they were caused by a knife. They looked shallow, so Roderich ignored them for the time being. "What exactly happened and when?"

He sat himself down in front of the smuggler, carefully removing the remains of the other man's shirt. It stuck in some places where the blood had already started to dry but somehow, the Austrian managed to do it without reopening any of the wounds. Now he had a clear view of what he was dealing with.
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Post by Gilbert Weilschmidt on Sat Sep 24, 2011 11:50 am

The pale Prussian gratefully settled on the bed, leaning heavily on his free arm, desperately trying to keep himself sitting upright. Now that Gilbert made it to his destination, it was hard to fight off the urge to pass out. It left him wobbling stubbornly in front of the brunet doctor, not quite hearing his questions until a few moments after the words left the man's lips. He just gave him a shaky grin.

“Took you long enough,” he panted in an aimless fashion, as though he was not worried for his life. “Not keeping you from any high-class patients, am I? Poor bastards. They prob'ly stubbed their toes.” Gilbert squeezed his eyes shut tight as he rambled softly, warding off the pain and exhaustion. His useless babbling went on for a few moments, as though it was a coping mechanism that needed to do its job before real treatment could be administered. Of course, it could quite simply be regarded as “a bad habit”.

“Ten minutes ago,” abruptly answered the smuggler, “or fifteen. S'hard to say. I don't really time myself as I go location to location. Had to run from Ostnesse to here. It probably wasn't too good for me in this state. Made a bit of a scene. But it was nothing much. Just an argument between businesses. An argument with pistols and swords. Quite unfair. Though, I was the first one to draw my pistol. Heh. They're just a few slices from swords...and a single gunshot wound.”

Gilbert laughed sheepishly, but quickly came to regret it and ended up hissing in discomfort. He slowly began to point to each slash, noting what kind of weapon did it, the types of swords. During this, his other hand stayed firmly latched to his side, hiding the gunshot wound. The fingers were stained by blood. The Prussian was somewhat ashamed of the wound. It was his own fault that the guns were drawn. He knew that. It was a badge of painful shame that would haunt him for quite some time. He was most certainly not eager to show it off to this doctor. Gilbert rarely got shot. It was a disgrace for the pale man who normally had more wits about him, even if he did not act like he did.

“Shame about the shirt,” he rasped quietly, still stubbornly ignoring his worst injury. It took a few moments of awkwardly avoiding looking at the other for him to finally release his vice grip and expose the hole in his side to the air. He could not help but hiss again at the feeling. “Sheiße.”



Last edited by Gilbert Weilschmidt on Sun Sep 25, 2011 10:06 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Post by Former Austria on Sun Sep 25, 2011 6:38 am

Roderich listened attentively to his patient's words as the other man tried to explain the story behind each cut, it was then he noticed that the other man had a hand gripping tightly onto his side, hiding what he suspected was the previously mentioned 'gunshot wound'. "Yes, a shame," he said, in response to the smuggler's pathetic attempt to divert his attention elsewhere.

Narrowing his eyes, he prepared a large sterile gauze, quickly placing it over the bleeding wound once the man gave up and reluctantly lifted his hand off of it. "Tch. Anything else you'd like to show me or do you not trust me to take care of you?" Snapped the Austrian, applying firm pressure onto the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding, gently pushing the man down so that he was now lying on the bed.

After a few minutes, once Roderich deemed that the wound was no longer bleeding, he slowly released pressure, lifting the gauze off of the wound so that he could examine it. He breathed a sigh of relief once he saw that it wasn't as bad as he had thought, pulling on a pair of medical gloves. It seemed the bullet had merely grazed him, leaving a deep laceration along the side of the man's abdomen, but not deep enough to enter the abdominal cavity.

"Was that Geman you spoke just now? You have a rather filthy mouth," he commented, gently starting to wipe the area around the wound with a clean cloth soaked with water, careful not to irritate it. A mix of blood and water soaked into the sheets, but Roderich ignored it and quickly finished up. He pressed a clean gauze to his patient's side, gesturing for the other man to hold it in place and turned towards the tray of instruments beside him, holding up a small syringe and filling it with anesthesia.
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Post by Gilbert Weilschmidt on Mon Sep 26, 2011 1:40 pm

Gilbert instantly growled, despite doing exactly as the doctor instructed him. “It is probably bad practice to completely trust an unlicensed doctor in some alley, ja?” he snapped back with ease, even as he gratefully lay back on the bed. He glowered up at the ceiling, as though it was the one at fault for the ruined flesh of the Albino. He let Roderich work, but every so often his fingers would clench and claw, instinctively wanting to keep other humans away from his wound, fearful of malicious intent.

His skittish behavior did not, however, stop him from watching the man work with fascination. It always stunned him, the way doctors worked so diligently, able to get cuts and scrapes and gouges to stop bleeding. He brushed his fingers over the spot once the brunet looked away, resulting in another hiss of discomfort. Roderich received the glare of pain this time, blame irrationally placed on him.

“Tch, German, yes. I'm Prussian. Why?” He paused to squirm uncomfortably at feeling of the cold cloth against his heated, sunburned skin. “Stunned by my sexy accent?” he laughed breathlessly, much more concerned with the syringe that Roderich produced from somewhere. He wrinkled his nose in distaste as it was filled. “What's that for?” he questioned cautiously, looking the other man over carefully.

Gilbert was by no means a wimp...Some of the time. The man could handle a good deal of pain when battling. The Prussian was resilient, stubborn, and a smidgen bloodthirsty. However, doctors always put the man off. There was a big difference between a battle, where the aim was to prevent injury upon yourself, and doctors, who seemed to only know how to cure things in the most painful of ways. If anyone were to ask the pale smuggler, he would be quick to say that people in the medical profession were among the most sadistic. Getting fixed should not require pain added onto the original pain. But he was in no way a wimp about doctors. Not in his opinion, at least.
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Post by Former Austria on Wed Sep 28, 2011 6:12 pm

((I've only just realized that hospital beds were higher than normal beds...))

He sighed. "And despite that, you still come to me. Troublemakers such as yourself seldom have much of a choice in the matter," mused the Austrian, scoffing lightly, "I may not have a licence, but I assure you I am perfectly qualified. However, I will be needing your full cooperation if you want to get through this without any complications arising." He ignored the hisses of pain and discomfort coming from his patient, silently assessing the battered smuggler. Although the cuts looked shallow, if Roderich didn't get to them soon there was always the risk of infection. Caught up in his observation, he didn't notice the glare that was sent his way.

He rolled his eyes at the Prussian's statement "Stunned? Hardly, it's just been a long time since I've last heard someone speak a word of it." In fact, it made the Austrian feel somewhat homesick, but he quickly shook it off. Now was not the time to be thinking about that. He stood by the bed, slightly confused as to why the other was looking at him like that, following his cautious gaze to the syringe in his hand. "Oh, this? I'm afraid you will be needing stitches, this will help alleviate the pain." He raised a questioning eyebrow, amusement glittering in his eyes. "Do not tell me you are afraid of needles."

Roderich removed the gauze, his gloved hand moved to grip the Prussian's hip to discourage any movement as he carefully injected the anesthesia close to the man's wound. The process was repeated twice, the needle penetrating different areas around the wound and replaced with a new one each time, he disposed of them properly once he was done. The Austrian moved on to the next part of the procedure, properly cleaning the laceration with antiseptic.
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Post by Gilbert Weilschmidt on Thu Sep 29, 2011 5:34 pm

((Oh well. We'll just pretend his are shorter?))

Gilbert growled slightly, annoyed with his doctor already, but grudgingly grateful. “Ja, ja. I'll cooperate. I wouldn't 'ave come if I hadn't heard such praises of you anyways. You're obviously good at what you do. It just makes me wonder why you don't have a licensee and work as a proper doctor. I'm only as much of a trouble-maker as you, in that regard,” grumbled the Prussian sulkily, set on giving the other man a hard time, no matter how helpful he was being. He wiggled slightly adjusting where his body lay, before giving in completely and lying limply as a good patient would do.

The smuggler raised a brow in surprise. “You sound nostalgic. I can only assume you speak German too. So which country do you hail from, hmm?” He idly drummed his fingers on the bed, antsy while waiting for Roderich to fix him up. His mind drifted to his old-home, dwelling on fond, but sparse, memories of family. A small, warm, smile graced the smuggler's face as his mind settled on his much more moral brother. It had been years since he spotted the other man. His career choices were a complete mystery, but Gilbert could only assume his brother was doing good.

“Mm?” he blinked, jolting from his pleasant thoughts. “A-afraid of needles? What would ever give you such a stupid idea! Of course I'm not afraid of needles! Don't think so badly of me. I'm far too awesome to quake and shiver at the idea of having a simple needle puncture my skin, sheesh! You're probably more scared of needles than I am.” His huffing and adamant denial went on until the syringe pierced his skin for the second time. Gilbert completely missed the first shot, completely wrapped up in himself, but the second left him accidentally letting out a clipped whine.

He glowered, daring the brunet to even dare attempt to say something about his childish behavior. It was a glare that promised to hunt the other man down and give him a painful death if a simple mocking word left his pretty little lips. It did, of course, mean he cooperated beautifully for the last dose and said nothing further as the man worked.
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Post by Former Austria on Fri Sep 30, 2011 10:00 pm

((Hmmm, it would be awkward having Rod bend over too much, I just have to keep in mind that the bed is about waist high.))

The Austrian frowned at being called a troublemaker. How dare he put him on the same level as him? A smuggler? He ignored the fact that it was true to some extent. Was he not going behind the law's back to treat the criminals and citizens here without a proper license? Roderich said no more on the subject, as he couldn't answer the obvious question of in the Prussian's words. Besides, it was not a good idea to start arguing with a patient, especially when in the middle of treating them, as he learnt from personal experience. However, the Austrian was quite pleased to see the smuggler finally making an effort to lie stil, making his job a lot easier.

"Austria," was his short reply. It was best not to get into too much detail, the other man was on the wrong side of the law after all. However, that didn't stop Roderich from thinking of home. He remembered that whenever his mother used to visit him and his brothers, the entire mansion used to be filled with the delicious, mouthwatering smell of pastries. How long has it been since he last saw her? Three or four years? COming back to reality, he looked towards Prussian. He was shocked to see a small yet pleasant smile on his face and briefly wondered what the other was thinking about.

He almost regretted mocking his patient and his obvious fear of needles, for as soon as he did so the man snapped out of his daydream and started rambling about how he was most definately not afraid of needles. He was either in complete and utter denial or just plain arrogant. Roderich found some satisfaction in giving the man his second shot, shutting him up and eliciting a small whine. He couldn't help but smirk slightly. The glare that was sent his way stopped any gibe from coming out of the Austrian's mouth. "Wie fühlst du dich? Tut es noch weh?" He asked instead, speaking in a soft yet soothing voice reserved for his patients only. The anesthesia should have number, or at least lessened, the pain that the other man was feeling from the deep cut on his side. Roderich disposed of the cloth he had been using to clean the wound and prepared the equipment he would require for stitching.
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Post by Gilbert Weilschmidt on Sat Oct 01, 2011 11:33 am

((Well, even if the bed magically changes height, I'll just go with it. ;u; ))

Gilbert made a triumphant noise when his Austrian doctor gave in, seizing to argue with him. He did not even bother to refrain from sending the brunet a smug grin. However, that was the extent of his gloating. The Prussian retained some sense, not at all wanting this man to become angry with him. Roderich, as his doctor, had way too much power over him. It would be way to simple for the doctor to refuse to finish treating him, or to make his wounds worse. He may have been doing good, fixing people up, but he was unlicensed, already breaking the law. It is not as though Gilbert could complain if the Austrian pulled something.

He raised a brow at the doctor's response. “Just Austria? No need to be so vague. It's not like I'm going to hunt you and your family down if you piss me off. Where're you from? What did you do when you lived there? Why'd you leave?” hummed Gilbert with an innocent curiosity, trying to ignore the impending doom of the stitches. “I was from Königsberg,” he started to blather, attempting to lull the Austrian into trusting him by sharing his own history. “Had a falling out with the church and got into smuggling. Thus why I'm now here today, all beaten and bruised and makin' you money off my misery and wounds.”

Gilbert had to admit, as unpleasant as it may be, that the anesthesia was helping quite a bit. The pain was slowly ebbing away. He let his eyes fall shut, just relishing in the comfortable feeling, and letting him miss the smug smirk of the other man. He instead relaxed completely, relishing in the fact he was being fixed up. The Prussian remained that way until the soft voice, speaking in German disrupted his peaceful rest. He merely grunted at first. “Ja, ja. Ich fühle mich besser jetzt.” He peered lazily up at him, opening his eyes. “But just get on with it. I don't want to sit here waiting. That's the worst part.” The smuggler's fingers fidgeted unhappily, impatient and nervous. However, after a few seconds of that, he smirked, forcefully dragging attention away from his nervousness wit a purr, “Dankeschön, Artz Edelstein.
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Post by Former Austria on Wed Oct 05, 2011 12:35 am

His eyes narrowed slightly, but otherwise Roderich easily brushed off the verbal jab at his choice of occupation, having heard it from the mouths of many ignorant fools who thought he had it easy, being a doctor. "You were with the church? Somehow, I find that hard to believe," voiced the Austrian, not believing a word that left the other male's lips, "And if you must know, I am not fond of sharing my life story with strangers."

He rolled his eyes at the tone of voice the Prussian had used, anxious and nervous, yet demanding, as he abandoned his gloves for a pair of new ones and pulled a mask over his mouth. He was, however, taken aback by the sudden show of gratitude and stilled. It really shouldn't have meant that much to him, those words were uttered by his patients every single day and were the very reason why he continued to do what he did, but to hear it said in his native tongue was truly nostalgic and he hadn't expected such a thing coming from the smuggler. "...I'll be starting now."

His hand grasped the handle of the needle driver that held the suture needle in between its teeth and he leaned forward slightly to get a clearer view. Letting out a shaky breath, the Austrian carefully pushed the needle through the skin and out into the base of the wound, then through the first side, before repeating the process on the opposite side. He looped the suture twice around the needle driver, before grabbing the short end. Then he layed down the first loop of the knot, created a second loop in the opposite direction and finally completed the first stitch. Sweat started to form on his forehead, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, but Roderich was in no position to reach up and wipe it off. It trickled down the side of his face, along the nape of his neck, before soaking into his shirt.

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Post by Gilbert Weilschmidt on Fri Oct 07, 2011 12:14 pm

Gilbert immediately scowled at the Austrian doctor and let out a near-silent scoff. A lot of things that came out of his mouth were lies or half-truths, but to be accused of lying when his words were truthful? It frustrated him, especially when many could see through his lies. To him, he was obviously speaking the truth. “Hmph! I could lie if you prefer. It does fit the stereotype. Would you rather I said I came from a horrible childhood? Or perhaps it would make more sense if I was always an “evil criminal”, ja? There is no way someone with a history of morals or happiness or a good upbringing would ever become a criminal,” drawled the Prussian, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You must have had a terrible life, my criminal doctor. No wonder you are being a priss about it.”

Despite the smuggler's irritation, he could not help but grin at the surprise the Austrian displayed upon Gilbert's display of gratitude. However, his triumph did not last long. As soon as Gilbert spotted the needle pressing into his flesh, he flinched. It was not an issue of pain, the anesthesia was working wonders, but the sight made him lightheaded. He looked ghostly between his nauseous expression and pale hair and skin. It was quite a pathetic sight for the proud Prussian smuggler.

It took the man awhile to remember his ability to move, and it was only then that Gilbert tore his gaze away from the horrible sight. Yet, he could still sense the tense concentration from the doctor, and it only served to make Gilbert nervous. He swallowed thickly. “Nn...How many stitches do I need, exactly?” His face contorted in disgust as his mind idly wondered how terrible it would be if he ever needed stitches in the double digits. “Actually, maybe I don't need to know. You just work.” His nose wrinkled. “I need a drink. You must need one too...You don't drink and work, d'ya?”
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Post by Former Austria on Sun Oct 09, 2011 10:01 pm

((-pops in reeeaaal quick-))

A moment of silence passed between them. His previous look of irritation quickly morphed into an icy glare directed at his patient. This man, just who did he think he is, to question his life and his upbringing and act as if he knew him? "Do not try my patience any further, smuggler," the Austrian responded in a low hiss, "You forget that I am one of the only competent doctors here willing to treat the likes of you and I am inclined to report you to the authorities just so I no longer have to deal with you. So I'd keep my mouth shut if I were you. Do we have an agreement?"

Roderich still felt a little peeved, even as he worked, however he tried not to let his aggravation get to him. Once again, he created the first loop, then the second, thus completing the second stitch. The Austrian paused to look at his patient, raising an eyebrow in question as if to ask: Do you really want to know? The smuggler looked nauseous, like he was about to pass out at the sight of the needle piercing his own skin. Really, a grown man afraid of needles... some things never ceased to amuse him. "Nein, I do not drink and work at the same time. That would be foolish, Mr...?" Roderich thought for a bit. "I do not recall ever requesting your name. Unless, of course, you do not wish to share it with me. It is understandable. Although, I'd much prefer it if I had something to call you by."

He turned back to the job at hand and repeated the process of stitching several times. Three stitches, four stitches, five, six... "And you're telling me you ran all the way here in this condition? Are you some sort of imbecile?" The worry was evident in the doctor's voice, though he tried to hide it behind the insult he directed at the smuggler. Gott only knew how much blood the other man had lost on the way here. Roderich gently shook his head and continued to work, eventually finishing the last stitch and sewing the wound shut. He snipped the end of the suture and set his equipment down, making a mental note to clean and sterilize them later.

"Sit up," he order, then as if as an afterthought, "Carefully. It would be a bother if your wounds opened again." He removed the mask he wore over his mouth and left the room, taking with him the tray of used instruments and later came back, gloveless, with a basin full of lukewarm water and a box of fresh bandages in hand. Finally, the doctor could ease his mind and focus on the Prussian's less severe wounds.


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Post by Gilbert Weilschmidt on Mon Oct 10, 2011 9:19 am

Gilbert met Roderich's icy glare with a violent snarl, the thin wall between the Prussian's anger and his cheery, playful, shell disintegrating quickly. “Then perhaps,” spat the smuggler, bristling at the hiss, “you ought to stop treating me like pure scum. Sure, priss, I'm not some respected aristocrat with a loving family, but I'm still your patient. Maybe you best shut up! You turn one smuggler over to the authorities and no one will want to risk their necks coming to you anymore.”

Gilbert returned to his silent fuming as the Austrian doctor worked. However, as the minutes slid by, his anger morphed into something more innocent, as though he was simply a petulant child. His day had not been going well and it showed quite clearly. The man intended to sulk about it. Not only was he riddled with wounds, but between the blood loss and the stitches he felt like throwing up and passing out. Then, on top of everything, his doctor was acting like a stuffy little countess. He gave the doctor an unimpressed look at the request for his name, as though the doctor suddenly attempting to be somewhat friendly and sociable was unacceptable. “What's the point in giving ya my name if you'll just think it a lie? That's all criminals do. Lie and cheat,” grumbled the man in a petty manner. “But if you care to believe me, it's Gilbert Weilschmidt. Just Gilbert'll do though.”

Pale fingers scratched at his leg, distracting himself from the needle being pushed through his skin. Every so often he winced, but whether it was due to true pain or imagined pain was unclear. “Don't sound so concerned. I'm sure it would please you and many others if I'd just fell down in the street to die. 'Course, I had to spite everyone, so here I am. You're lucky I haven't passed out.” He shook his head, refusing to lose his childlike behavior. “But I didn't really 'ave anywhere else to go. Smuggling doesn't make me too many loyal friends.” If any.

Gilbert sat up carefully as ordered and then immediately looked down at his side to look at the stitches. He grinned in approval before looking over the rest of himself. Nothing seemed too bad, and the pale man started to pull himself up and off the bed once Roderich left the room. He wobbled a bit, still lightheaded. The albino grabbed for his tattered shirt, draping the remains of it back around himself as Roderich reentered the room. Gilbert laughed awkwardly.

“I-I...I was just stretching,” started the Prussian, attempting to lie to the other man for the first time in the short visit. “I hate sitting for long periods of time and all. Gets old really quick, ya'know? Need to see the world from a whole new point of view.” He tried to edge closer to the door, but was unsuccessful and ended up leaning on the wall, feeling quite off. He refused to humiliate himself by falling in an attempt to flee. Instead, Gilbert would much rather man-up and admit that he forgot to bring money...That is, after the Austrian finished bandaging his wounds and his strength returned.
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Post by Former Austria on Fri Oct 14, 2011 8:38 am

Piercing red eyes connected with his own violet ones and the ice of his glare rapidly melted into a look of shock and surprise. He blinked, slightly dumfounded. Red. They were red. Who in the world had red eyes? The answer hit him later on once he took note of his patient's other peculiar features; snowy white hair, pale skin, together with that violent snarl and those crimson orbs, the man looked almost demonic.

However, before the doctor in him could lament over this newfound discovery, Roderich winced in pain and closed his eyes, thus breaking contact. "Must you shout? It is rather unbecoming." Of all the things he could have replied with, the Austrian chose to complain about the subtle increase of volume in the smuggler's voice... He couldn't help it, his ears were quite sensitive - they were the ears of a musician after all. And that headache he had felt coming on earlier, before the Prussian had come bursting through his door demanding treatment (rather rudely, might he add), was threatening to come back to him tenthfold. "Someone seems unreasonably bitter towards those of higher class." He lifted a hand to gently massage his temple, sighing tiredly. Really, arguing with the man was becoming quite stressing for the poor doctor. "Perhaps I should just kill you instead to save me the trouble. What do you think?" And it was beginning to affect his better judgement. Dishing out empty threats was unlike the usually calm and, he liked to think, polite Austrian.

A start of anger went through the former aristocrat's body at the smuggler's childish attitude. "You...are insufferable. I don't know why I even bother." If 'Gilbert Weilschmidt' wanted to act like a child, then so be it. "And believe it or not, Mr Weilschmidt, lying and cheating is exactly what most criminals do." It wasn't prejudice that spoke, it was experience. Roderich couldn't even take for granted that the smuggler's true name was 'Gilbert Weilschmidt', as experience told him to assume that all criminals were liars and cheaters, as well as thieves and sadists who lacked in both eloquence and morals until proven otherwise. An unwanted recollection of the time he was attacked wormed its way into his thoughts. He was most definately not prejudiced.

Contrary to what the albino might believe, the Austrian was genuinely worried. Criminal or not, the man was injured and the doctor in him refused to let that slide. However, he preferred not to let that side of him show. "Loyal friends are hard to come by these days, for any sort of business. People do tend to have the habit of stabbing one another in the back," Lord knows he has, "But we are only human after all."

He took back what he said before, this man was a terrible liar. Nor was Roderich pleased to find his patient standing up and out of bed when he had clearly requested otherwise. Obviously, the other was neglecting to tell him something. "Do not take me for a fool, Mr Weilschmidt. Might I ask why you seem so eager to leave?" He looked at the other man, unimpressed, and sat himself down on the bed, close to the bedside table where he set down the basin. The box of bandages was dumped on the floor for later use.
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Post by Gilbert Weilschmidt on Fri Oct 14, 2011 6:19 pm

Somehow, the doctor's brazen dismissal of the Prussian's anger instantly calmed him down. Sure, he did not miss the looks of shock, but it seemed to Gilbert that the Doctor had not really looked at him until now. Expressions of surprise where nothing new to Gilbert, he encountered them on a day to day basis as people gasped at his demonic appearance. Between other people's reactions and the scars littering his stomach and back, Gilbert never ceased to forget how out of place his appearance made him. Much to his relief, the Doctor did not acknowledge it further.

“I'll shout if I like,” he answered stubbornly, but not without lowering his voice and grinning in amusement first. He settled comfortably on the bed, watching the other carefully, but without much annoyance or irrational fear. This doctor was not too bad, even if he was a bit obnoxious and biased. “Don't make empty threats,” hummed Gilbert with ease, having no issues about calling him out. “I sincerely doubt you would be able to kill me anyways. I'm much more versed in the art of murder than you. And really, there are some who would take your threat seriously. You probably ought to watch what you say. Or perhaps you have a death wish.” He punctuated his point by reaching up and jabbing a finger into the Austrian man's chest upon uttering the word “death”.

Gilbert blinked, realizing for the first time that he seemed to be annoy the aristocrat as much as the aristocrat annoyed him. He grinned, delighted. “Now, now, you cannot really believe that. Insufferable? And a name other than Gilbert? Tsk, tsk. Obviously you haven't realized that I'm much more awesome than other criminals. I can be brutally honest all I like, 'cause I'm just that awesome. And since I'm awesome, drop the “Mister” crap. I'm simply Gilbert.” The smuggler made a pleased noise, despite knowing his words did not exactly make a fantastic case for himself. However, the Prussian doubted Roderich would ever believe his words. It made sense, many criminals were liars and cheaters, but Gilbert could not help but wish to prove Roderich wrong in his opinion about him. Gilbert was a ruthless, murderous, thief, not a liar. He was adamant that it was a big difference.

Crimson eyes raked over the brunet, sizing him up. He looked exhausted, as though he worked for a lengthy amounts of time and then had short hours in which he could relax alone. It was quite pathetic, but Gilbert could sympathize. He lead a very similar life. Of course, in his case, he was hurting people and the Austrian only helped people. “You sound quite lonely then. Not too many people want to hang out with the stuffy, unlicensed doctor, huh? And ya' most certainly don't wanna befriend a fellow criminal?”

In one last desperate attempt to escape paying, the Prussian continued to edge toward the door. As he did so, he scrambled hopelessly for a convincing excuse to leave in a rush. “Ah! W-well, Ya'know! Maybe I'm just tired of dealing with a doctor who so obviously doesn't want to treat me! You should be nicer to your patients! I'll just take me wounds elsewhere. Or maybe. I'll bandage them up myself, so that I'm not in debt to you anymore than I already am!”
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Post by Former Austria on Tue Oct 18, 2011 12:40 pm

Roderich made an offended noise and wrinkled his nose in distaste, obviously irritated with the prodding he was receiving from the other man. He immediately swatted the offending hand away from him, a tired and annoyed expression on his face as he replied sharply, "Don't touch me." The Prussian was acting just a little bit too familiar with him for his liking, so he wanted to make it clear to the other that he was not fond of unnecessary contact, whether it be brief or intimate, especially of the unexpected kind. The Austrian mimicked the albino's words, answering with just as much stubbornness as he had, "I will say whatever I like. Besides, how can you be sure that I won't kill you? I am a doctor after all. It would easy for me to drug you while you lay helpless in bed."

He slowly raised an inquiring eyebrow. Apparently, the other man was not only an albino, but also thought quite highly of himself; if the constant overuse of the word 'awesome' - with all of them referring to himself no less! - were anything to go by. "It's a pleasure to meet you then, simply Gilbert," said Roderich, sarcasm lacing his voice as he showed the barest hint of a smirk, "And yes, I do believe that. After all, the only honest criminals I've known are now locked behind bars for their honesty as we speak. How are you any different?"

He could feel Gilbert watching him, his crimson eyes examining him closely for reasons he did not know. Perhaps the doctor looked worse for wear than he thought. Roderich silently prayed that this was not the case, it would simply not do to look tired and unprofessional in front of a patient. Then the other man spoke. Roderich let out a wry laugh before replying. "Perhaps I am, lonely that is. Do you pity me? Is that it?" His tone turned cold. "If that is the case, then I kindly ask you keep it to yourself."

He scoffed and promptly stood up. "I treat my patients with the respect they deserve, thank you very much!" As he talked, he did not notice the Prussian edging closer and closer to the door. "And do not be silly. How do you intend to bandage yourself when there are even wounds in places you cannot possibly reach? Take the cuts on your back for example. I'm surprised you're still able to wear that shirt after the numerous cuts you received." It was only then he realised exactly what the smuggler was trying to do and took that as his cue to stand between the Prussian and the door. He faced the albino, his back to the door with his arms spread wide as if that would help him stop the man from getting through. "I am sorry you feel that way, Mr Weilschmidt, but I'm afraid I cannot just let you leave." Roderich narrowed his eyes, determined to keep the man from leaving. The doctor would not allow an injured man to simply walk out of his clinic without proper treatment.
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Post by Gilbert Weilschmidt on Thu Oct 20, 2011 1:30 pm

Gilbert hissed, instantly pulling his hand as far away from the Austrian doctor as possible. It was not as though he was badly hurt by the slap, or even somewhat harmed, but it was the mere fact that the doctor responded in such a way. “I'll touch you if I like,” huffed the Prussian stubbornly. As if to prove himself, he quickly reached out, sitting up abruptly and gently curling his fingers around the other man's throat, ignoring the pain the quick movements caused him. “Oh? Do you have any intention of killing me then? I'm not quite helpless. I suppose you're not helpless either.” He squeezed his fingers once before letting go and lying back on the bed, daring the Doctor to even try.

“The pleasure is all mine, Roddy,” spat the smuggler back without missing a beat. He did not appear at all phased by the doctor's smirk, instead delighting in the chance to play. “The only reason those criminals are in jail is because they're not very good at what they do. As you can see, I'm still running around free. It's not lying that keeps me out of the hands of the law. It's talent.” He paused, seeming to seriously consider the way he worked. “I do lie on occasion though, when I need to. I'm just not a compulsive liar. So yes, specs, my name is Gilbert.”

Gilbert snorted. “I only empathize a bit, don't be so arrogant. As if I'd waste my time pitying the likes of you, a grumpy, criminal doctor! The loneliness suits you. You don't deserve a group of supportive friends.” The Prussian made a condescending noise. It was, however, one of the man's terribly constructed lies. Already, Gilbert ended up relating and pitying. He was quickly becoming intrigued by the uptight yet snarky doctor. Roderich was quite refreshing for the man, easily matching him as they snapped at each other.

“I just won't bandage 'em then!” protested Gilbert desperately. “Those one's probably are not that bad anyways. I've had worse. I only needed you for the stitches. The rest'll be fine! They're always fine. I never go to the doctors. My body is used to a beaten.” He trailed off, starting to realize his arguments were futile. He faltered, not even bothering to glare at Roderich when the man blocked the exit. Instead, Gilbert slipped back as few steps, returning to leaning against the bed.

“Look, luv, I don't have the money to pay you. I mean, I do, I just don't have it on me. It's with my ship. Not on me. So, ah, I didn't want to owe you more. I can pay you! Just not now. Though, I was intending on just darting out the door while you were gone. I s'pose that'd be rude of me. And ungrateful. It's sorta a matter of pride...” Gilbert trailed off, looking anywhere but at the Austrian.
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Post by Former Austria on Mon Oct 24, 2011 7:38 am

Roderich tensed, his breath hitching as panic washed over him once he felt fingers suddenly wrap themselves around his throat. His hand immediately came up to grip the man's arm, but the Austrian made no effort to remove it, choosing instead to glare defiantly at the other. It was then he was reminded that this man was not only a smuggler, but most likely a murderer. Most of the blood on him was probably not his own. How could he have forgotten such an important detail? Did he not tell himself constantly not to anger any of his criminal patients? The Prussian tightened his grip, causing a small whine to escape the former aristocrat before he finally let go. Roderich took shaky breaths, his hand unconsciously moving to his neck as he continued to glare at the Prussian.

The smirk quickly fell and any trace of amusement was wiped from his face the moment the nickname left the Prussian's mouth. His eyebrow twitched and Roderich had to shut his eyes and take slow, deep breaths in order for him to will himself not to snap in the presence of such impossible company. Oh how he despised nicknames. But he hated losing even more, he had had enough of it with his brothers, and it was indeed a game he and the Prussian were playing, one he was secretly enjoying and determined not to lose. "Hmm? And what talent would that be?" He faked exaggerated surprise and curiosity, as if he had not expected the smuggler to be good at anything. "I never implied you were a compulsive liar, I merely pointed out the fact that all criminals lie and cheat whenever it would benefit them." He rolled his eyes, irritated with the names the other man was giving him. "Although I don't quite understand how saying you used to belong to the church would benefit you. Perhaps you are a compulsive liar, Gilbert."

Roderich tried not to let the sudden hurt he felt appear on his face, covering it up by quickly replying with an insult of his own. "Hmph! I could say the same for you. A cocky nuisance of a smuggler! You probably spend most of your nights alone in the nearest pub drinking and declaring yourself 'awesome'."

The Austrian lowered his arms and allowed himself a small satisfied smile as the smuggler backed away, surrendering and admitting defeat. He raised an eyebrow at the Prussian's frantic explanation, "Well, it is not as if you planned on getting into a fight and coming here. Nor does any other criminal that seeks me out. If that was the case, I should probably be worried. Did you really think I would refuse to treat you simply because you could not pay me on the spot?" He waved a dismissive hand, calmly taking a few steps towards the albino so that he now stood in front of him. Roderich frowned upon realising that the other man stood just slightly taller than him. "Pay me tomorrow, you know where to find me. Or just take me to your ship if you are so eager to no longer be indebted to me."
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Post by Gilbert Weilschmidt on Tue Oct 25, 2011 12:56 pm

Gilbert met Roderich's glare with his own, however, it only lasted a few seconds before softening completely. He arranged his hands carefully in his lap, indicating that he would do no further harm to the man. Then, with a dramatic flair, he sighed in an almost relieved manner. “See? You oughta be more careful,” huffed the Prussian in a tone that was typically used for lecturing younger siblings or children, “I could've murdered you! You could be dead right now! Don't be such an idiot, doctor. I thought you dealt with criminals all the time!”

The man's concern was short-lived and it did not take long for an impish grin to spread across his face again. Roderich made it obvious that Gilbert got to him with the nicknames. He did not say anything on the matter, but his facial expressions explained all the Austrian's feelings in excessive detail to the pesky Albino. “Talent, Roddy-kins? I s'pose that's not quite the correct word, true. But I'm so very glad you're interested. How sweet? Interested in smuggling? I could always use a temporary partner. Ya'know the one you let take the blame and throw under the bus when the cops catch up to ya'.” He grinned cheerily, determined not to let the other man get to him so easily. Gilbert intended to win this game. “And you're right, what use is that little fact? It makes me look kinda pathetic. And what church would even accept a demon like me?”

Unlike the Austrian, Gilbert was not quick enough to mask the hurt that flashed across his face. Had it been a lie, he would insult him back quickly, denying it easily. However, the man's words hit far too close to the painful truth. All the Prussian could do was to stare and sneer at the other man. “Oh, shut up, priss!”

Gilbert huffed, openly disapproving of the Austrian's smug little smile. “Well some do turn people away. Most of your kind are very centered on money. Helping people, hah. How d'ya know I'll ever pay you? It's all too easy for me to skip town.” He shook his head, already looking stubbornly unconvinced. “But I'll pay ya' today. You just have to finish patching me up and I'll hurry back. Or skip town. You never know. We'll see.”
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Post by Former Austria on Sat Oct 29, 2011 10:08 pm

Even as the Prussian made a gesture of peace, the doctor's glare did not waver. Fear was still present from the event that had occurred just seconds before, yet it was now coupled with annoyance. He realised it he had been rather unprofessional, but to have it pointed out to him and lectured about by a criminal, like he was some sort of a child, was just-! "I do not need a smuggler telling me what to do!" He sneered at the other. Then, as if he had suddenly lost the energy to argue, "Now be quiet. You're giving me a headache."

The Austrian did not like the looks of the mishievious grin that had suddenly wormed its way across the albino's face. It was obvious the other man was enjoying this. Although he tried not to look fazed by it, his eyebrow twitched once again at the horrid name that was given to him. Roderich had to fight the urge to snap at the him, but no, that was probably the reaction the Prussian wanted and he was determined not to give it to him. "I'll be sure to mention your name in trial then. They'd be eager for another criminal to put behind bars and blame everything on." He raised an eyebrow at the next thing that came out of the albino's mouth. "Demon? I am not a religious man, so I would not know what church in their right mind would want to accept you; you are possibly one of the most bothersome criminal I've dealt with. But why go so far as to call yourself a demon?"

He scoffed. "Is that really all you have to say? Usually you are so full of comebacks. Have I finally struck a nerve?" He continued to jeer at the smuggler, a cruel side of him finding some satisfaction in doing so while another sympathised with Gilbert and knew better than to mock him further. "No wonder you reek of alcohol. Tell me, Gilbert, when was the last you've done something for anyone but yourself?

He drew closer to the albino, not realising that doing so caused only a few inches to seperate them, and made to carefully remove the other man's shirt, placing his hands on Gilbert's shoulders where the remains of said clothing rested. "It is not that I don't care for money, although I do accept the occassional charity case, I still expect some form of payment. I highly doubt you'd leave town just to escape paying me. Besides, even if you did," Roderich paused in the middle of sliding the Prussian's shirt off, wrinkling his nose slightly as the smell of alcohol invaded his nostrils, "I have quite a number of favours I have yet to call in. Should you ever return to Aldmoor, I can always arrange for some of the criminals here to give you a very...special welcome. They owe me."
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Post by Gilbert Weilschmidt on Mon Oct 31, 2011 11:21 pm

Gilbert rolled his eyes, not even bothering to humor the young doctor. He waved his hand, dismissing the order for silence with a regal air. He then made a point of giving the Austrian a serious stare. “I'm not lecturing you as a smuggler. I'm lecturing you as someone who spent half their life as an older brother. It's our job to annoy the hell out of people with our unwanted advice. It's what we do. I haven't gotta lecture him in years. Might as well as lecture you, specs. You should just appreciate me lookin' out for ya. Would you rather I had my hand around your neck again?”

The tense look on Roderich's face delighted the Prussian. The other man was so obviously irked and trying not to lose face to him again. He shamed himself once and was desperate not to repeat the mistake. Gilbert intended for there to be a repeat. Multiple repeats. His feral grin grew giant, openly adoring the man in front of him, partially for his existence as a plaything and partly for a legitimate fondness for his prissy personality. “Trial? Hah! As if anyone is going to get me into some unfair courtroom. I'll be long gone before you can testify, darling,” laughed the Prussian cheerfully. However the delight was short lived.

His face quickly contorted into a confused grimace. “What d'ya mean? Why wouldn't I call myself a demon? That's what I am? Haven't chya taken a good look at me, doctor-man? This is pure demon material right here. You don't need to be a religious man to see that.” He shook his head, as though baffled by the doctor's opinions.

He tensed, giving Roderich a much colder glare, not appreciating the man mocking him. He was not yet ready to admit that he may have a very small problem with drinking or commitment or kindness. “I said shut up!” hissed the Prussian ferociously, despite knowing he played into Roderich's cruel fingers. He would rise to the each of the doctor's jibes. “Maybe I'm a selfish bastard, fine! At least I'm not a lonely little doctor who has to get his jollies tormenting patients! You're just as bad as me. Stop acting all high and mighty, Roderich!”

Gilbert nearly squeaked in surprise when the doctor abruptly continued his work. A blush dusted over the smuggler's face, uncomfortable with the close proximity of the doctor whilst the other man undressed him. He let out an awkward laugh, not sure how to deal with the situation. “Heheh...C-can't get enough of me, ja liebe?” He tilted his head away, looking anywhere but the doctor, avoiding the embarrassment of looking him over. It took him a few moments to try to shake the feeling away. “Ah...nn...But don't worry. I'll pay you when you're done with me. That is, if you don't mind putting up with your delinquent for a few extra moments, specs.”
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Post by Former Austria on Mon Nov 07, 2011 8:06 am

Roderich responded with a fustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair, the action only serving to ruin the near perfect state of the carefully brushed locks, before gently shaking his head. The Austrian didn't think he had ever met a more troublesome patient than the one before him now and returned Gilbert's serious stare with a disdainful frown. "You say that and yet you still expect me to appreciate you?" He scoffed. "I already have three older brothers. I don't need another breathing down my neck, so I kindly ask that you to go bother someone besides myself. Your own younger brother, perhaps?"

He blinked at the other, a somewhat bemused expression on his face as he slowly took in what the albino said. When it registered he couldn't help the small bubble of laughter that escaped him, causing his entire form to shake as he struggled in vain to contain it. Eventually he was able to control himself and the laughter died down into soft chuckles. "Don't be ridiculous. I admit, your features certainly do give you a somewhat demonic impression, but all I see is a smuggler too full of himself."

Roderich bristled at the unkind words directed towards him and found himself at a loss for words. He glared right back at the Prussian and fought to come up with a comeback, his own guilty conscience slowly taking over and refusing him the voice that would push Gilbert over the edge. With a huff, he turned away from the other man and refused to say another word.

He didn't notice the red that adorned the Prussian's face, having slowly gotten used to working in close proximities with patients over the years and being just the slightest bit oblivious sometimes. However, he didn't miss the smuggler's comment and replied with a roll of the eyes as he finished removing the other man's shirt and proceeded to fold it neatly, all the while considering burning the wretched thing for it could simply no longer be considered a shirt. "Since when were you my delinquent?" He raised a curious brow, responding with a tone of voice that one might say was verging on playful. "But it's good to know you'll pay, I suppose. Would you mind taking a seat though? The faster I'm done with cleaning your wounds, the less time you'd have to spend with me."
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Post by Gilbert Weilschmidt on Tue Nov 08, 2011 11:11 pm

Gilbert rolled his eyes, obviously unimpressed with his Austrian doctor. He leaned forward slightly, pushing past boundaries of personal space to give the man an irked stare. “Well, your brothers obviously did a shitty job of it. You're bein' an idiot. You have no excuse, doctor.” He crossed his arms, looking defiant. “You look like you were a good pansy. What happened, priss? I don't see any brothers bugging you now, do I? Don't be so stuck up. 'Course, I do like bugging you. Why the hell would I go looking for my pitiful sibling when I can bother something much better?”

A pale finger teasingly flicked Roderich's nose before letting his own face melt from mirth to confused grimace. Gilbert's head tilted childishly, and his eyes narrowed. No part of the smuggler's brain could fathom why his doctor bubbled with delight at his words. He merely sunk further into annoyance as the answer failed to present itself. To the Prussian, his words were the truth. He was a demon, plain and simple. “Then you must be quite blind. Everyone else sees it. S'pose the smuggling doesn't help that image. Nothin' to laugh over though.” He shook his head, frown imbedded into his typically impish face.

No depressive emotion stuck with the Prussian long, and he quickly returned to his malicious mischief. He stood up taller at the glare, pleased to assert some dominance in his situation. Any victory was large enough to celebrate, no matter how small or underhanded. Despite this, the man said no more and took a seat as instructed, still capable of following the shorter man's orders.

“Aww, what, you don't want your very own delinquent? We're quite profitable for a doctor to have around.” Gilbert's voice took on a higher pitch, like that of an awkward teenager faced with an uncomfortable situation. His mind drifted and became stuck in an embarrassed place. Despite his sudden reduction to a socially-inept child, the male managed to keep his tone light and playful. “I-I mean, really. Nearly get killed, need fixing up, pay ya'. Then repeat. And I smuggle, even better. I have medical-y thingies sometimes. But you sound like you're trying to get rid of me. Hah! As if you could. I'm awesome to have around. I'm sure you've already fallen deeply in love with this fantastic creature that is me.”
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