Wounds Still Fresh

[Joseph Goebbels]

Joseph could smell the tension in the room between Locutus and Klaus. He cleared his throat. He wanted Klaus to die in peace, it was the most he could do. "I celebrated yesterday." Klaus eyed him, but it was clear his emotions were flat. Sociopathic to the extreme. "Forgive me, I could not afford to smash a glass." Klaus smirked. "You brought him to protect you from me...you have nothing to fear from me, Goebbels. My days of skinning the living are over, I sell the leather I make." he poured himself a glass of water and settled against the counter.

Joseph set a pack of cigarettes on the counter. "Because I owe you. I just want to know that...if I leave...you'll be alright. I promised I'd look after you." he said.
"Look after me? Like you did your children? Mengele? You don't need to fawn over me like one of your spawn, Goebbels." Klaus hissed at him. "I will be fine on my own. The police haven't a clue why police are disappearing. Speaking of which..." Klaus set his water down and slipped out of the back door for a moment.

When he returned, he handed Joseph a straight, long handled cane. It was bleached, white bone, long enough for him to lean on. Joseph eyed it, fairly sure it was human. "How the hell did you get it so straight...? And long?" Joseph asked.
"Bone bends when wet. There is also a blade...I managed to turn that old ceremonial blade you gave me into something usable. Not that you ever took fencing lessons, but it will be something to remember me." Klaus said. Joseph shivered slightly. Human femur bone, lengthened with pieces of another femur, with a hidden blade lengthening it even further by the handle. He leaned on it experimentally.
"Now get your limping ass out of here. I don't want to see you again until I have to come and give you food." Klaus said, sneering at Locutus.

[Locutus Ferox]

Locutus remained silent though his gaze lessened, at least for the moment. The man was after all insane and old. Locutus didn't need to lift a finger, the man would probably trip and die soon anyhow. He went back to scanning the room, not that there was much in it of interest. The man was old, his house told stories, much as Goebbels' apartment did. However, unlike with Goebbels, Locutus was not as much interested in this man's life story.

Then the man mentioned Goebbels' children. The Photos. Goebbels took the slur rather well. He had expected a reaction far worse than the ones Locutus had stirred from his minor poking, but no, he appeared to let it slide. The man meant something to him it appeared. Whatever it was had to be considerate. Most men he had ever met would have openly assaulted someone for a comment like that.

"You mentioned a vampire?" Was all the deity said as he looked to Klaus, or at least they would suspect him of looking to Klaus as they couldn't actually see his eyes through those dark sunglasses. It was one of those things you could feel. It was a burning gaze, both of curiosity, and a bit of disdain. "You mean an actual...vampire?" Locutus said it with a bit of skepticism, as if he didn't believe in such things. Joseph likely knew better, but this man had no idea who he was.

As he let the question hang in the air, Locutus eyed the cane. "Curious...." he thought with slightly mingled distaste and curiosity. Even without seeing it or hearing about it, he already recognized the design, and noted the hidden blade within. Locutus gave possibly the first smirk since coming here as he inwardly wondered if Goebbels would feel himself more secure around locutus now that he had that blade.

Locutus stood firm at the sudden rushed shove off, waiting for an answer to his question about the vampire. He had no intention of leaving till he got it either. Probably much to the old man's annoyance.

[Joseph Goebbels]

Joseph translated the question dryly. He seemed to enjoy hanging around the area, to annoy Klaus. The old one certainly deserved it after the PR hell he had put Joseph through. "Yes, vampire. A hunter of the night. It keeps them away from the local populace, gets them uninfected, clean, plentiful blood...and in return they guard this place for me." he said. Joseph translated uneasily, frowning at Klaus. It wasn't like him to consort with the supernatural any more than Joseph...Joseph was hideously paranoid of anything paranormal other than himself. It was something he'd been raised with, and wasn't likely to forget.

Klaus gestured at the door. "Go. I have carcasses to butcher, pillows to sew...and you're annoying me more than ever, Goebbels." he said. Joseph nodded. "I just wanted to make sure...I might be leaving soon. Keep watch of yourself." he said, turning to go. He grasped Locutus' upper arm. "Come on. I just wanted to make sure he hadn't gone completely mad." he muttered in English so Klaus wouldn't understand. From what he could hear, the old man was headed slowly back to his chair to continue his embroidery.

Once outside, Joseph let go of Locutus. "Right...I'm yours. That was my only business." he said. "Klaus is taken care of, he knows where my house and my money are...so...what would you do with me, eh?" Joseph leaned on the bone cane.

[Locutus Ferox]

Locutus's eyes lit up at the mention of more than one. A congregation of vampires out here? Something was up. Exactly what, well that was hard to say. Perhaps later he might check with the native species around to see if they knew anything. He wasn't about to interfere, however. Not without a good reason. The last thing he wanted to do was draw Antoinette's attention without a good reason.

Finally, having his question satisfied, Locutus allowed himself to be ushered out of the old house. He stepped off the porch and came to a stop as Goebbels did. "Your friend knows more than he lets on. You would be wise not to show any weakness around him. I suspect he knows your worth more than you do."

With that Locutus continued on down the path that they had came, working his way till they were in a less dense portion of the jungle and quite some distance away from the old man's house. Here he stopped again and looked around. He wondered how he should put this. Should he just break it to Goebbels now? If he did would the man believe it? Would he be able to swallow it all?

He knew one way or another Goebbels would have to be prepared for what was coming. Even if he stayed in his own little corner of the world, he'd have to be made ready. Otherwise there was no hope. No chance for survival.

At length Locutus looked over his shoulder at Goebbels. "I think it's time you packed up.[/b]" With that he continued on towards town again. He provided no further explanation as to why to pack, only just that he thought he should do it. On his way he passed another bear trap, tossing a small stick at it to set it off.[/size]

[Joseph Goebbels]

So he was leaving. For what, Locutus only knew...but he was prepared for it. This was the end of his rope, he was done drinking, crying, feeling sorry for himself and what he had lost. After sixty years it was time to move on. If that meant marching to his death he would do it gladly, on his own terms, proudly like he had been raised to do. He nodded grimly at Locutus when they reached the road. "I suppose I'll meet you back at my place." he said, resting on the bone cane for a moment. He closed his eyes, conjured up that same memory again. It never got stale, especially since it was burned into his memory. Adrenaline hit his system, and he transformed. The falcon grasped the brace, looking up at Locutus. He took off with some effort, flying to his apartment. He wrote Klaus a note, telling him to take care of the house, and if he didn't come back then to take certain large articles like the portrait and treat them with honor.

He covered most of the more important things that he couldn't take with him with sheets. The portrait he paused at, sighing and looking at it. He stood back, saluted, then stepped forward to cover it. He rolled up the flags, hiding them under the bed where they would be secure. He packed his clothes in a very, very old suitcase, taking along a few of his favourite books. He found his old guitar in his closet. God, how Himmler had hated that thing. He smirked at the memories and pulled it out, putting the strap over one shoulder. Well, alcohol didn't spoil. If Klaus wanted it he could have it.

He'd probably just use it to sterilize knives.

Pity.

Joseph went to the bathroom, grabbed his pills. With all the furniture covered, pictures of his family and friends in his bag, guitar on his back...he stared at himself in the mirror. "I look like a hippie." he said in disgust, shivering at the thought. Joseph went to his door and unlocked it. He would have to lock up his apartment and hope Klaus came to see his home soon. To check on it if nothing else. His heart ached at the loss of the alcohol, but it was a poor idea to become that drunk again in the company of Locutus.

[Locutus Ferox]

This time the cane never hit the ground before Locutus snatched it up. He hoisted it onto his shoulder as if it were a rifle and he continued on down the path. He gave Goebbels time to reach his apartment, taking note of the time he landed. He also gave him time to begin packing. Meanwhile Locutus meandered down the familiar road. Goebbels didn't put up much of an objection. That was a good thing. It seemed he finally was getting a bit accepting of things.

While Goebbels packed Locutus sent out a few messages via a quick word with a few creatures. Yes it seemed rather odd to be talking with the animals, but that was his thing. He knew his messages would get out, and it was a good thing. They needed to. Locutus knew some people who would be of help during this time, and he wanted them to be on friendly terms. That would not be an easy task with the way things were.

After giving Goebbels time he would suddenly find himself resting on the rail of the balcony, crouched down as Goebbels saw to his door. Locutus couldn't see the whole apartment from here, but he could see that the man had covered up or hidden what he wasn't taking with him. Locutus thought about telling him to bring it all. That it was very likely he'd never be returning here, even if he did survive. However, he expected that had he done so, it was possible the man would have changed his mind.

He flipped the cane down to press against the ground as he half leaned on it. "You know for old men, you lot sure are pretty scary in your own way."

[Joseph Goebbels]

"Only the scary ones lived. Isn't it odd, that all the kind men died in that war, where the ones who truly needed to die never did?" Joseph shrugged. "Mengele, Klaus...both needed to be put out of their psychotic miseries a long while ago. Himmler, Hitler, Hess, Goering...they weren't all that cruel. But, you know, history is written by the victors, and victors never tell the truth. They always want it believed they fought a justified war." he nodded to the hallway. "I'm locking up." he waited until Locutus exited his abode and locked the door from the outside, putting his keys into his suitcase. He held out a hand for his cane. "Where are we going?" he asked. He prayed it wasn't somewhere he had to walk for an extended period of time.

He felt a bit silly taking the guitar now, but he wanted to keep it with him. It was sentimental, and he was old. But he'd left Klaus everything else. His furniture, old artifacts, an old record player. Klaus was a cruel man but he wasn't the kind to sell off or destroy such artifacts. He'd keep them until he died, which meant that there was a liklihood of them staying in the middle of the woods until Goebbels returned for them. If he could.

Joseph led Locutus down the stairs to street level, taking his time with them. He had to slowly put weight on his brace, then put his good foot down, then bring the brace down to meet it. It was a slow process, given that his ankle hurt tremendously, but once Joseph got into a rhythm he was on the floor level in no time. "I hope you have a car or something. I'm not trekking across this damned country with my own two legs."

[Locutus Ferox]

"Seems they had a habit of that." Locutus said in reply to the first part of Goebbels statement. The rest he let finish. Finally he hopped off the balcony and made his way to the suggested hallway. He could have taken the easy route sure, but that would have likely made Goebbels more suspicious of him. When they got to the hallway Locutus handed him the cane, looking down both sides of the hall. "First of all, away from here. You might not have noticed it but the person I killed in the bar wasn't your ordinary human being."

Locutus reached into his pocket and pulled out the wallet he had confiscated earlier, holding it out for Joseph to look at if he pleased. Within it were a number of different credit cards, and identification cards. Most of them were all under different names. Also included was a few passports.

When they reached the street Locutus took another look around before looking back at Goebbels at the mention of a car. He chuckled inwardly at the thought. Goebbels really didn't like walking. Well that wouldn't be a problem. Locutus shrugged at him. "This way." With that they walked a few blocks down the road and around the corner, where upon they came upon an abandoned lot. Sat parked in the middle of it was an impossibly new vehicle. Not a scratch, not a ding, not blemish upon it. Even more surprising, was that no one had apparently attempted to break in.

Sat alone in that lot was a new Corvette ZR1. The entire car appeared to be midnight black, from top to bottom, including the rim. The only exception were the red flairs here and there. The Brake Calipers, the shocks, small details like that that made the car appear to be...well somewhat sinister. The vehicle almost had a government type look to it. Locutus had done some heavy modifications to this vehicle he had spotted first in the USA.

When he first saw it, it was quite the impressive sight. It had the sleek lines of a predator, and then came the sound. It purred like a kitten at first. This of course had caused Locutus some surprise. It was almost disappointing even. Then when the gas was mashed the true beast came to life. He liked it. It roared. However, it polluted and used gasoline to run. Two things he wouldn't stand. He managed to obtain this car. He painted it black personally, ensuring little use from human made products. Then he modified how it ran. He had no intention of altering the way the engine itself worked, but he took a few liberties to ensure it'd never need fuel and that it wouldn't pollute. He also modified it to be a bit more sturdy than it's stock variants. After all he didn't want it falling apart on him.

What was produced, was the monster that sat out there on the lot in front of the two now. Were it not for the paint job, it might have looked innocent. Expensive, but innocent. If Goebbels had any doubts, they would likely be dispelled as soon as they set off.

But all this also posed an interesting question. Where had the vehicle come from. Locutus hadn't left the man long enough to park the vehicle here, so close to Goebbels place. Did he truly know where the man lived after all? Better yet, if it had been done before Locutus had engaged Goebbels in conversation. Just how long had Locutus been watching him? Or another interesting question. How the hell did a bloody expensive American car, wind up all the way out here, and without a single mark of use on it?

[Joseph Goebbels]

The first thing Goebbels thought when he looked at it wasn't at all positive. In fact, the expression on his face was less of awe than amusement.

"...You know, I've heard from a few people around here that the only reason to buy a Corvette was to make up for a lack of penis length." He smirked at Locutus when he saw the car. Of course, he was confused by its presence...the only way a car could have gotten here, especially this expensive, without a scratch of use would be the drug cartels. They were known for airlifting cars to Rio for the use of their high ranking men, who were pissy about scratches and dents. This only added to the oddity of Locutus...but he knew better than to ask about its presence.

The man wouldn't give him a straight forward answer without a fight, this entire time they'd been trying to worry straight answers out of one another without luck. "Well this should be convenient for travelling through jungle." Joseph chuckled and opened the trunk, putting his things in. He set the cane in and sat in the passenger seat. The cabin was low to the ground, which was good for Joseph's leg. God, he missed his own car. Less of the sissy 'roaring' that American cars touted and more of raw power. He bet that if a 1930's Maybach Zepplin collided with an American Corvette...the quarter inch steel would win. He settled back in the seats.

"I can safely assume we're not going overseas unless this fiberglass contraption can fly." Joseph said, feeling oddly comfortable in the Corvette. He had to hand it to the machine, it was comfortable. But comfort did not a good car make.

[Locutus Ferox]

The deity chuckled at the comment. He didn't much expect anything different from the old German relic of a man, but he also knew the man knew very little about this particular vehicle. That much would become obvious to Joseph the moment he opened the door.

It was then that the changes were noticeable. Within the doorway were signs of the reinforced frame. Present within the cab itself was a discrete but solid roll cage. The car itself also did not appear to be made of the usual fiberglass that vettes commonly were. Instead it was a rather interesting alloy that was both extremely light, and put up as much resistance to impact as solid steel. That wasn't the only change. The seats were of the same design as their stock counterparts, but were of a higher quality. Gone were the standard seat belts as well. A five point harness sat in their place.

The dash had been redone. The standard gps unit and XM radio taken out. In it's place was still a high quality radio, but without the fancy XM stuff he didn't care for. The control cluster had also been modified, showing several gauges that weren't exactly stock. A lot of the fancy electronics had been removed as he didn't much care for them as well. One had to guess if the cab of the vehicle was any indication, one could only wonder what was under the hood, or under the car for that matter....

Locutus opened the driver side door and sat down in the drivers seat. He then looked over at Goebbels and turned the key. Not quite to ignition but enough to light everything up. The compartment glowed red when everything lit up. There were obviously lights within it as well as there were no way it was just the gauges that produced that much light. He then took off his shades and set them in the storage compartment between them. There was also a gun rack behind them, though it sat empty. However next to it was a rather odd weapon for the time... and for the car. A longbow of old. It bore no fancy frills of the modern day bow giving hint to it's original design. It was either newly designed to look old, or it truly was old.

Finally the deity shrugged and started the car. The car maintained it's original muffler and catalytic converter, that much became obvious, given the lack of noise the engine produced at idle. The butterfly valves kept the volume down. He then strapped himself into the seat.

After awhile he finally spoke. "Looks can be deceiving."

[Joseph Goebbels]

Joseph smirked. "We would still be better off in a Jeep or something of equal off-road value." he said, folding his arms across his chest. Yes, the car sounded fast...but fast on asphalt, which was scarce except on the main roads in Rio de Janeiro. "If you go on anything with rougher terrain than a speedbump, you'll bottom her out." he settled back and sighed, wanting a drink. The car around him was bathed in red light, the engine growling softly under the hood. He decided to be quiet, see what Locutus did with the car. At the very least, his leg had enough room to stretch out in...he wouldn't get too cramped and he wouldn't have to drive.

Hah. Him driving was a horrid mistake. The brace took up too much room to drive well with, and there was a rumor circulating for quite a while that he'd run someone over. It wasn't too crazy of a thing to think about, but he'd never done it. Himmler had never let that one go once the article had been published without his consent. Joseph looked over at Locutus. He had to be some sort of supernatural being...but he had more traits than one species. He was fast, strong. He had to take more time to puzzle the man out, find out exactly what he was.

But in the meantime, in the back of his mind, he would enjoy being close to a very beautiful man, in a very comfortable car. If he was riding to his death, he was at least doing it in style. "So. Where are we headed?" he asked, eyeing Locutus.

[Locutus Ferox]

The deity looked over to the older man skeptically at his assessment. However, instead of fighting the point he merely shrugged and turned his attention back up front. He shoved the clutch in with his foot and pushed the car into first gear. He pressed in the gas to push the engine rpm up and then let the clutch out. The result was instantaneous. Immediately the car lurched forward, and amazingly without roasting the tires. The vette took off like a rocket and spun onto the road. He then pushed the accelerator and the car shot down the street not unlike a rocket.

Locutus sat calmly at the wheel, ready to shift but not doing it quite yet. The engine rpm was still low enough to manage in first gear with no problem. Still, even in first the car was approaching sixty Miles per hour (96 kph) and obviously could still climb. Luckily for Joseph the street was empty, so if he had any doubts of how fast they were going, at least he wouldn't have to worry too much bout Locutus hitting a car, which was...extremely unlikely anyhow.

"There are a few options...." Suddenly the engine died down as he let off the gas, and slammed in the clutch. He tapped the brake and spun the steering wheel all the way left. Suddenly he let off clutch and break and hit the gas again. This had all occurred before they reached the corner, the end result being the car turned sideways and literally slid around the corner. It slid a bit roughly, indicating that the car was a tad more resistant to such actions than one would expect. A small fish tail followed before he straightened it out with ease. "First of all, there's a couple places I need to go first. Then... it's off to the Harbor or the airport. Either way... it's up to you, but we're leaving South America."

With that Locutus pushed in the clutch once more and shifted gears. The car, as expected, roared forward, reaching speeds exceeding one hundred miles per hour, or as Goebbels might catch it, a hundred and sixty kilometers per hour. Even at this speed Locutus didn't seem bothered. There was also something incredibly odd. Some of the roads in Rio, as Goebbels probably was well aware, were poorly maintained. Yet here this car was speeding along at triple digit speeds, and there was barely a bump noticed. It felt, for all intents and purposes like they were driving on high grade, racetrack asphalt.

Locutus chuckled as he felt those gazes from Goebbels. He on the other hand kept his gaze on the road. Not that he much needed to, but you know, if you don't look at the road at those speeds, and still manage to avoid hitting anything... it kinda draws a bit of attention to the hows, heaven forbid he be caught while having fun.

[Joseph Goebbels]

Joseph instantly felt ill. He had problems with planes going over sixty miles an hour, much less a car. He found himself clinging to the door, eyes squeezed tightly shut, trying to stop his stomach from roiling. He felt his stomach muscles contract and he swallowed sharply. He definitely knew what the warning signs of throwing up were. "Slow the hell down!" he snarled. "We're not trying to kill ourselves! You're going to run someone over!" His knuckles were white, his thin fingers clenching the door handle.

He was deathly afraid of speeds like this. He had been roundly mocked for it in his youth, when young men were loving the new speeds that cars were coming out with. No, Joseph was terrified enough to hide under a dashboard. He dared to open his eyes and look out at the roads, the buildings and rough roads flying at them. If this had been any normal car, it would have flipped and blown up by now. But this one was...stable. Like they were on some smooth road like the Autobahn. "Christ..." he slowly lifted his head, but wasn't prepared to let go of the door. Not that it would help him in the case of a crash anyway.

"...What business do you have around here anyway? Don't you dare kill any more people. I deal with enough of that hanging around Barbie." he growled. "The natives here aren't bad people. Don't hurt them."

[Locutus Ferox]

Locutus could only grin as the man sat uneasy next to him. "The windows are electric. The button is right next to you," was all he offered. Personally he'd have preferred the old manual crank style, but alas they weren't offered on a vehicle in this age and putting them in would have been a nightmare. His words were punctuated by a sudden depress of the clutch and a shifting of gears. Shifting up that is. The shift lever was pressed into third, the clutch popped and the car screamed forward. It's speed shooting up further. The car veered around another corner and shot off down the road.

So far Locutus hadn't performed any...super impossible maneuvers, keeping the car anchored in reality as it raced through the city. Now and again he ran into traffic. Only now did he shift down, weaving between cars as the Vette roared down the street. Goebbels couldn't see it, but outside the car's wheels traveled in a far less smooth fashion. An improved suspension pushed the wheels down into every dip and hole in the road, and the system seemed to soften up in anticipation for it to push back up. The result was an insanely smooth ride while maintaining an impossible stiffness so as to not bottom out or impair steering. Locutus's car had other tricks up his sleeve, but he wasn't ready to show those off yet.

"First of all. If I'm going to be harming people, they won't be the locals. Least, not unless they're doing something to piss me off. Secondly, and more importantly. Perhaps you missed the part where I said that man that I killed wasn't your average human. He also... wasn't after me." At this point Locutus spared a moment to look over at Goebbels as if to confirm something. The sentence leaved little room for doubt that he had been referring to the man next to him.

[Joseph Goebbels]

Joseph paled slightly, but his nausea was getting worse looking at them weaving through the cars like madmen. He shut his eyes again, listening to the man in the driver's seat. That man in the bar was attempting to kill him? "Why save someone you've just met?" he demanded. "He looked like he was trying to kill you!" He kept curled up in the seat, eyes shut, feeling the car duck and weave through the streets. They'd get nailed by the policia soon if Locutus didn't slow the hell down. At this rate he was going to transform. He had to calm down the beating of his heart, but fear was making it race and there was little for it but to try and think of something calm.

It didn't really work. His brace clattered to the floor and with a few bright flashes of light, the redbreasted falcon was digging impressive talons into the seat cushions. He half-spread his wings for balance, lowering his head to keep from tipping over. Joseph felt a bit safer in this form, if anything happened he could fly off. But at the moment he felt like sinking hooked black claws into leather and holding on as well as he could. He looked at Locutus and keened, his feathers rising.