Post by Joseph Goebbels on Mar 16, 2013 22:17:19 GMT -5
Joseph set down his teacup, his hand shaking slightly. He hadn't returned to the country in decades, hiding out in South America like a rat until he presumed everyone he knew was dead. He still drank heavily, a fact that made his normally skeletal face look ever more drawn and haggard. He was staring rather nastily at a street sign across the road, as if he could will it into falling off of its post and curling up in terror. "Used to be MY road." he muttered under his breath, picking up the teacup again and setting his teeth on the rim. "Joseph-Goebbels-Strasse." he drank down the tea and held the empty teacup against his thin lips, glaring at the sign that now read 'Helter Strasse'. "What a dumb name." he snarled at it. "I used to walk down this road to work now look at it." he lowered his head on his shoulders like an angry buzzard when his eyes raked over several newfangled shops. Joseph was an old soul, he hadn't seen Germany since 1945 and even then it hadn't looked as horrid as it did now to his eyes. He had stayed the same; he was still one of the shortest men he'd ever encountered at just under five feet, and his leg was still strapped into the foot brace that kept the deformed bones from slipping out of place. Pain throbbed up his ankle and calf constantly.
Even worse, his overwhelming paranoia of the supernatural kept pinging like a submarine radar, making crawling sensations creep up his spine. He looked around nervously, paying for the tea he'd drunk and standing wearily. The sensations were always there, like he had someone sneaking up behind him.
Post by Rurik Sokol on Mar 17, 2013 1:48:21 GMT -5
Rurik had parked at a hotel he was staying at a walked to his contacts place. He quickly started on the job of fixing a artificial limb he made for the man years ago. Upgrading and replacing parts in the limb he worked quickly, he had dark rings around his eyes and his hands were begging to shake. It had been 4 days since he last slept, thankfully this was his last job for a while and he could get some rest. Rurik had lost his self in his own mind, subconsciously working on the arm he finished it, snapping back to reality when he couldn't tighten the screw any farther.
Putting the skin back around it and sealing it shut he handed it to the man and took the money. Quickly counting it he nodded and grabbed his bag, putting it over his shoulder he walked out and closed the door behind him. Walking down the road he lost his self in his mind again, thinking of his new creation he wondered how to power it. Many ideas ran through his mind until he bumped into something, snapping back to reality he blinked and looked at the pole he had bumped into. Looking around he couldn't recognize where he was at, he hardly came to Germany, in fact this was his second trip.
Looking around he tried to figure out where he was, he must of forgotten to turn around somewhere. He was tired and slightly confused, seeing a nearby cafe he walked into it slowly and looked around before sitting down at a table and putting his bag on the ground under him. Asking the waitress for some tea he closed his eyes and sighed for a moment before opening them and seeing her place it on the table in front of him. Nodding to the girl he looked at the tea in front of him and gazed into the reflection.
He stared at his self and was lost, he was instantly going through his mind on how to replace each body part with his artificial limbs. He didn't have the organs working just yet but they soon would be and even though they were not finished he thought of replacing his own organs the only one he couldn't right now was the brain. It was only a matter of time before he could even move the memories and replace that.
Last Edit: Mar 17, 2013 1:50:09 GMT -5 by Rurik Sokol
Post by Joseph Goebbels on Mar 17, 2013 1:58:26 GMT -5
Joseph's sharp little gaze landed upon the twitching, lost man staring into his tea. What a pair they were. Joseph looked like he was trying to eat the cup what with his teeth grinding on the ceramic, and the man with the bag at the next table. He'd swiftly learned that the Kreuzburg area of Berlin was not the array of offices that he'd left it; it was row upon row of houses, a calmer residential district with not too good of a reputation. The cafe stood where his old office building had and Joseph was a creature of habit. "Bloody cafe looks like a travesty of architecture." he sneered at the small building behind him in a very rough, lower Rhine dialect. He'd already confused several others; his speech was from an older time, and the language had apparently undergone a renaissance since he'd fled to South America.
He set down the cup, annoyed to see he'd worn tiny grooves in the enamel. His jaw had apparently worked as hard as his brain. He glanced again at the man. "Must be coming down off something." he muttered, and slid a piece of paper out from under the teacup, marking down a tally. "Yet another drug addict shambling his way to the nearest place with anything resembling clean water. God, if only the boss could see it now." he rolled his large eyes in their bruised lids and slapped a few euros down on the table. He made to rise, but he felt a very familiar twinge.
Before he knew it he'd crashed down onto the pavement, his leg having quite nicely failed him. Joseph snarled and grabbed ahold of the table, trying to yank himself up, but the iron contraption around his calf was very heavy. With a small sinking feeling he realized he was definitely getting old if he could no longer easily pop back up from his notorious deformity dead-legging him. "Why the hell didn't I just let them cut you off." he hissed under his breath, knowing he was causing a bit of a scene. He took a deep breath and forced his good leg under him, shoving up his skinny frame to an odd, half-sitting half-standing position.
"Faith moves mountains, but intelligence moves them to the right place."
Post by Rurik Sokol on Mar 17, 2013 2:38:46 GMT -5
Hearing someone next to him speaking under their breath he snapped back to reality and looked over at him, hearing him say he was another drug addict coming down off something he shook his head and laughed a little. If he was on drugs he would of died by now. Grabbing his cup of tea he held it to his lips as he took a sip, setting it down on the cup gently before looking at the older man and watching him try to stand.
Seeing him crash Rurik blinked and realized the mans situation with his legs, standing up he walked over when the man was crouched. "You alright?" he asked as he held out his hand to help the man up. Looking over the mans legs he wondered what exactly he had. His mind started going over the calculations needed to make the artificial legs for him. He was slightly surprised by the mans height but didn't show it.
Post by Joseph Goebbels on Mar 17, 2013 2:45:20 GMT -5
"No, I fall down on my ass all the time. It's great fun, you should try it." Joseph snapped at him, ignoring the offered hand and pushing himself to stand. He was still a good head shorter than the man beside him, and was breathing hard from the effort. Pain was throbbing, spreading up from the malformed neurons. The burning pain slid up his thigh and hit his back. Joseph stood stock still, waiting for the pain to die down a bit. He looked to see who his helper was and saw the man he'd labeled a drug addict.
"I don't have anything worth filching." he told him, running his spindly fingers through his hair. "Why couldn't this place be sixty years older, when I could snap my fingers and have morphine at my side like it was scotch?" he muttered, standing up straight. He was slightly annoyed to see he had to tilt his chin to meet the eyes of the other man. "Sorry. Stupid leg puts me in a foul mood..." he apologized sourly, folding his arms over his chest.
He could practically see the gears whirring in the other's brain. It reminded him of a few others he'd seen in his lifetime. "Joseph Goebbels." he introduced himself, holding out a thin hand.
"Faith moves mountains, but intelligence moves them to the right place."
Post by Rurik Sokol on Mar 17, 2013 3:09:57 GMT -5
"And i pass out randomly, not much fun to fall." Putting his hand back by his side he watched the man seeing he was in pain and staining still from the pain. When the man spoke of not having any thing to filch he laughed a little before he watched him run his fingers through his hair then speak again, listening he scratched his cheek and leaned back against a table. "Times have changed and it doesn't look like its been to nice to you. Don't worry about it, we all have something that puts us in a foul mood."
Accepting the mans apology he questioned what this man was in his younger days to snap his fingers and get morphine like its scotch. That would be nice, scotch that is since Rurik didn't need the morphine for his self. Seeing the man holding out his hand he took it and shook it as he spoke. "I don't have morphine but I do have scotch."
Post by Joseph Goebbels on Mar 17, 2013 3:19:49 GMT -5
Joseph smirked and lifted an arm, gesturing down the road. "Lead the way then. The best way to make new friends is in the company of the old ones." He adjusted his leg, bringing it under his frame when he was sure it could support his weight fully. Even so, he stood awkwardly with most of his weight on his right leg, his left leg slightly bent. "Time hasn't been kind to any of us. The ones left, that is. I suppose I'm the last sad remnant who crawls back to the desecrated domains of his old government office to drink tea and whine about street signs." he said. "Though in my defense, I figure if the road's named after me it should stay that way." He studied the man before him for a moment and took one last baleful look at the street sign. He still wanted to burn it, but it was a sad gesture of impotent rage and he knew it. The street would stay the same for the rest of eternity unless he managed to get into public office again. Which had about the same chance as him winning a marathon or height contest.
"Faith moves mountains, but intelligence moves them to the right place."
Post by Rurik Sokol on Mar 22, 2013 4:20:02 GMT -5
Nodding he turned and picked up his bag, putting it over his shoulder he slowly began walking down the street. Looking over at the man he spoke. "The names Rurik, Rurik Sokoll. I work in my own private company, I build and repair artificial limbs for people who lost them for one reason or another. Hell, I sell them to any one that wishes for one. The drugged look I have is from not sleeping for..." Looking at his watch he looked back at the man then in front of him where he was walking. "4 days now? Something like that. What about you? Obviously retired."
Truthfully Rurik had no idea where he was walking he was just heading back where he came from to find the road he needed to turn on that held his hotel.
Post by Joseph Goebbels on Mar 22, 2013 11:04:39 GMT -5
"I'd sleep then. The most I did was three days and that was half-drunk and during a war." Joseph told him. "Joseph Goebbels. And yes, retired, but not exactly by choice. I'm a politician, or I used to be. Used to make speeches, run a propaganda office, life was good to me for a little while." he looked the man next to him up and down. Yes, he recognized the haggard look and the slightly slurred walking, though he had suspected it was from drugs and not from being a workhorse. That he could empathize with. As for the man's profession, suddenly he was regretting not truly cutting off his foot. "What about footbraces?" he asked suddenly. He hadn't had the damn thing repaired or even looked at for over seventy years, it was beginning to get riotously uncomfortable.
"Faith moves mountains, but intelligence moves them to the right place."
Post by Rurik Sokol on Mar 26, 2013 1:31:06 GMT -5
"Im used to it, i'll pass out and sleep for a day tomorrow or when ever I get a chance. What happened to make it worse?" His back tracking got them to the street he recognized, turning he walked down it and saw the hotel he was staying at. Looking over at the older man when he spoke of his foot brace Rurik looked down at it while they walked. "I fix it for you, mind if I ask why you have it?"
Walking across the street he pushed the door open, stepped inside and held it for him before closing it when he was through. Walking down the hallway he pulled out the large key and unlocked the door to his room, stepping inside he pulled out the key and slid it in his pocket. "excuse the mess on the bed" Walking to the coffee table that sat two chairs, a bottle of scotch and two glasses he tossed his bag onto the bed with his other bag of clothes.
Pulling out the chairs he sat down and grabbed the bottle of scotch, twisting off the cap he poured the drinks and slid it over towards the man as he set the bottle down. Reaching over he grabbed his bag and slid it off the bed onto the floor next to him. "Ill fix it if you take it off."
