Uncharacteristically, Damascus' swell of emotions inspired by both Schadel's answer and his brothers' remarks rendered him without any words to offer. He simply walked over to Schadel, leaned down, and wrapped his arms around her, patting the shoulder he wasn't embracing with a clumsy hand.
Adam had already come in conversation before, so Edward just followed in Damascus's footsteps and gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder. Schadel gave a small smile; she really was grateful for what they were doing, and tried her best not to let her gaze linger on Edward. "Thank you," she said, ducking her head down.
Wilson respectfully withheld any aww’s at the site of Schadel being surrounded with comfort from her brothers. She smiled, standing behind them all. She figured, since things were so out of order, she could switch things up a little. Out of nowhere, she conjured a bottle, and lifted a table into the center of their circle, plopping it down with surprising ease for her small frame. She set the bottle in the center, laying it on its side.
“We love you Schadel,” she said affectionately, with a smile. “And now here’s where things get fun! Now we’re gonna spin the bottle to choose who goes next. Whoever the top of the bottle points to? It’s their turn! I’ll start with spinning, but after this, we’ll have whoever just went spin it. If you uh... want to. And can. Okay-“
She spun the bottle with a twirl of her fingers.
For a few seconds the plastic bottle twirled speedily, before it slowed down, eventually landing on... Kratzer!
He blinked, taking a few moments to register this. Once he had, he dug through his pocket and once more withdrew a coin. He attempted to flip it but couldn't quite put it on his thumb. By the fifth time he came to the conclusion that it wasn't a very practical plan and instead tried to remember what he'd chosen last. Deciding that he should balance it out - and remembering the armpit stunt - he came to a conclusion.
"Truf. Ruth. Truff. Truth," he said, correcting himself repeatedly.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
Kratzer let out a long breath at that inquiry, eyes widening a little. That was a bigger question than Boris probably realized, not because it was difficult to choose one; rather, the exact opposite. He had too many.
Needless to say, he'd been a rather reckless young man, and combining a death wish with impulsiveness and vampirism was a mix sure to lead to numerous stupid adventures that ended badly. That didn't even begin to count the stupidity after the second world war.
"Ooooh...zere'sh...too many," he said slowly. "Uhm...Ok, vell, zere vas zis one time, it vas right after I vas turned into a vampire. I vas maybe twenty, twenty-five, young. I didn't really know vhat a vampire vas but I did know zat I vasn't human because...vell, the obvious. So zen I realized I couldn't really die but I vas a bit stupid and had a bit of a deasvish..." he paused for several moments. This really was going to be embarrassing. Had he not been so drunk, he might've had the sense to back out, but he was already halfway in now.
"So vhat I didn't know is zat I hung around a lot of hunters. And I knew zat zere vere hunters because some tried to kill me but for vhatever reason I just didn't really zink about ze fact zat zey'd of course hang wis ze mercenariesh, 'cause zere's a lot of overlap, you know? Vhich, Aurick had actually told me, if I'd been listening closely enough, but vhen you're zat young sometimes you don't zink zings srough....sho, anywaysh, zere vere hunters. And I'd, uh...Okay, vell, let's jusht shay zat vhen I vas young I vasn't exactly, uh....dishchiplineded. And I may have been just a tad bit of a, uh...vhat do you call it...like, ze bad boy kind of type, I vas a mercenary and all but didn't have much coin but...vell, ja. So, anyways, a really good vay to get, ah...Do I really have to do this?"
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
This looked promising- more promising by far than what I had anticipated. An intrigue that began with a freshly minted immortal with a predeveloped disregard for personal preservation, and added in an element of financial want, could only end well.
"Don' be susshh a pansy," I groaned, "It wash jusht getting good."
Bad souls have born better sons, better souls born worse ones -St Vincent
He let out a long sigh. "Ach, fine. Sho...a good vay to, uh, get ze attention of ze ladiesh vash to, get into, uh, show off, and zings. You know, since zere vasn't much money to flash around. But zen I realized zat even if I got caught zay couldn't do much due to my, uh, immortality, and...I...vas so stupid. Jesus. Zere vas this rich nobleman vho lived in ze city vho vas an absolute fickin' arschgeige. I'd had my eyes on zis girl named Mila and had, for a long time, and I'd almost got her vhen zis lad came along.
"Naturally, Mila vasn't so sure about me, sinche I vas a mercenary and didn't have much coin and all, so she gets off vith Eric - ze rich lad. So zen I go to Mila sayin' 'schatz, Fraulein, love, vhat does he have zat I don't? Sure, coin, but I can take of ya good as him, 'n I can protect you.' Mila didn't have none of it but I vas a persistent and handsome bastard so she eventually told me zat if I zought I could take care of her like Eric zen I should prove it - by getting zis glitz he had 'n kept near his bed 'n all.
"Sho obvishly I'm say 'of course, Frau Mila, it'll be on your pillow by ze morning' because I'm a fickin' idiot. Sho. Eric's got zis two-story place he livesh in vis his family, big place, like I shayd, lotsh of money. But, I'm a vampire, right? Even if I get caught, eh, no problem. I'm a bit lazy about finding an escape 'cause I'm short on time and all and I vait until nightfall 'n zen I go sneakin' into his house. Climb ze vall, get zrough ze vindow, eashy peash.
"I pick ze lock to zis box 'n I get ze ring 'n I'm sneakin' back to ze vindow vhen Eric valtzes on in. Did I mention zat he's more 'n six feet tall 'n has a svord 'n is real buff? Vay bigger zan me. He seesh me vis zis ring and naturally ze fellow's a bit offended, so he draws his svord 'n comes after me, 'n I should've just ran. But I could see Mila's light on 'n I zought 'vell, I can take him, 'sides, can't really hurt me, right? I'll just vin zis fight and bring her the ring and his svord and zen she can hardly argue vis me!'
"I vas vrong. I was shitty vis svords. Still am, compared to many, and 'fore long I vas on my butt vis his svord at my zroat. But I ain't leavin' vithout zat ring, so I kick ze bastard in ze nards 'n fickin' run fer it. He took a swipe at me but only got ze back of my leg, hindrance, but ain't too bad.
"I get to ze vindow and I jump onto ze sill to climb out. But I made a mistake. Vhich, is kinda hard to see in ze dark but, uh, I'd closed ze vindow behind me when I'd initially come in to keep ze noise down. So I just faceplanted into ze vindow and broke my nose, and I still have a scar, actually.
"But zat's not ze end of it. Sho, I faceplant into it, and he's comin' at me, 'n I just straight up ram zis thing 'n break it and I don't have ze time to climb out carefully sho I just jump. I jump off my right leg out of habit but of course zat's vere he got me vis his sword so I trip off ze vindowsill and I fall, 'n zen...my pants got caught on ze broken glass. And zey ripped. All ze vay.
"So I'm hangin' by my pants off zis vindow and he's gonna have my head, so vithout a second zought - and forgettin' Mila's probably seein' all zis - I just slip out of, uh, said pants. And I fell. And I vasn't too concerned 'cause of course I couldn't really get hurt.
"I hit ze ground, Eric's yellin' t' wake ze vhole town, 'n I land on my bare arse in ze middle of all ze glass. Limped fer veeks 'n I still got scars, actually," he said with a soft chuckle.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
I listened with fervent fixation throughout the entirety of Engel's story, and it was not without effort that I avoided interrupting him with anything more than the odd stifled chortle.
It was sweet, to see him smile at the end of it. There was little sadder than a man who could not find the humour in his own failings, and my brother was no such man. It was an honour to hear such a story, and I considered it my blessed duty to congratulate him for telling it so beautifully.
"Damn...thas' impresshive. I've never heard a ssshtory of the like, could held a candle to't. Well done." I told him, my voice crackling with pride.
Bad souls have born better sons, better souls born worse ones -St Vincent
Schadel looked her brother over, also failing to hide her amusement - a smile managed to slip onto her face. "So I'm guessing our versions of immortality are a bit different," she commented. Her wounds rarely took a large chunk of time to heal, and they never left a scar. She'd have to create one if she wanted to give off the perception of her being injured.
Edward snorted into his drink. "That's how you got that scar?" he asked, his amusement far easier to notice thanks to him being so drunk. "I thought it would have come from some dramatic battle, not slamming into a window!"
Damascus choked on a bout of giggles. At first, he felt bad about laughing at Engel's misfortune, but he was reassured by Engel's ability to laugh at himself. He wiped at the tears that had formed in the corner of his eyes, and attempted to look over at his brother.
"That'shh, a, a fantashtic storehhh, Engel. 'm sorreh it happenesd, but 'm glad you cen laugh at iht noowe." He chortled to a spot on the wall a foot to the left of Kratzer.
"Most of zem are anticlimactic," he said to Edward, then tapped the one on his eyebrow. "Zis is from zat day. Zen zis vone is from my girlfriend's demon," he gestured to the bite marks on his cheek, "and zis vas from me tripping over a chair in ze Guild hall in Berlin and landing on a poker. Not a hot one," he added as he pointed to the one on his lip. "I did vind up losing ze girl, zough, ze ring did shell for a lot. And, Schadel, my immortality isn't true immortality, vhat zey call 'minor immortality' vhere I'm damn hard to kill but definitely killable. And danke, Borish, I do try. Now! Vho is next?"
Kratzer leaned down and spun the bottle, nearly falling over himself but managing not to, thanks to the seat belt that Wilson had summoned. It turned and clanked on the tile before finally stilling in front of Boris.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
