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Nurse Fausta Adler
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Hellsing: Crossroads RPG :: Registry :: Registry :: Approved
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Nurse Fausta Adler
Have you seen the Hellsing OVA and/or Read the Manga? How many volumes have you seen/read? (We recommend that you have seen up to OVA 6 or read up to Volume 6 of the manga): Baby, I've seen it all.
Name: Fausta Gustoph Adler.
Age: Fausta is in her late eighties, though she will never admit to it.
Apparent Age: Mid to late twenties.
Gender: Female.
Race: FREAK.
Affiliation: Millennium.
Personality: About the most notable thing about Fausta would have to be her sense of humor. Albeit cruel and sometimes inappropriately placed, it still exists. More times than not this can lead to trouble, but not always. When it comes down to it, the nurse tends to lean a little more on the irrational side. She panics quickly and is prone to fits of rage and hysteria. Fausta speaks with many different inflections in her voice, varying from high to low and even the speed of her words, often time depending on her situation and even whom she speaks to. Unlike the stereotype of her heritage, she is very expressive with her face and her hands, gesturing wildly when she forgets herself and is carried away in speech.
Fausta never really had a good sense of right or wrong, even long before she worked for Millennium. She believes in doing whatever it takes to stay alive and pursuing your own interests, and if that means being on the side of "wrong", then so be it. She's less likely to keep herself alive, however, but use some poor man to come to her aid and be her big, strong hero. That was always her way of thinking, men are pawns and playthings, easily manipulated to her own will. Show them a little affection and they'll take a bullet, like a good dog.
When it comes to her own master, The Doktor, well, he's a completely different story. For the most part, Fausta won't even try to mess with him in any way. Because, to be honest, even after 60 years he still scares the shit out of her.
Like many others inside of the Millennium laboratories, Fausta is a tab bit of a coward. In the situation of having to fight, she'd much rather turn the other way and run. That's not to say she doesn't have her moments of bravery and even the more likely occasional moment of being an idiot and opening her big mouth to make things worse, she'd much rather save her own skin than try to come out as the winner of a battle.
Appearance: Always being looked down on, literally, with a height that just reaches 5'2'', not including her high heels. She's the definition of hourglass, her short torso swelling out at her chest and hips and shrinking in at the waist to a full figure, leading down to her long legs. A ghastly pale girl, her red hair reaches down a to her mid-back, the hair itself with a slight wave in it's texture, cut with layers that frame around her face and parted off to the left side. Her wide eyes are an inhuman shade of green, and appear even larger behind her glasses. Her puffy lips are more often than not pulled downwards into a pout, except for when she smiles, to which her pearly sharpened canines are exposed. She has a rather small nose, which points upwards at the tip ever so slightly. As far as make-up goes, in most cases she would be found with a bit of mascara and a touch of bright red lipstick.
If one were to look inside of Fausta's closet, they could almost be blinded by the amount of white clothing. In fact, it is almost impossible to find anything that isn't white. Most often in the laboratory, though, she can be found wearing her typical uniform, if typical is what you would call it. A white latex dress with cut outs along the sides and one on the top of her chest in the shape of a surgical cross. The dress is sleeveless and with a high neck, normally accompanied by a matching medical armband and a pair of white latex boots that reach to just a couple of inches below her knees, bearing red crosses on the tops. To top that all off, her typical nurses cap stays clipped in her hair. White with the red medical cross, like the rest of her clothing. In addition, a staple of the medical team, a pair of gloves that reach halfway to her elbows. In times for operation, she wears an apron and a surgical mask. Wire frame glasses are also sometimes added on to her appearance, but not always. Her eyesight isn't awful, but they are needed sometimes for magnification.
Choice of Weaponry: Within a small black case that she mostly keeps concealed, either inside of deep pockets or in her desk, are a couple of custom sterling silver tools. A scalpel and a pair of pliers, both with "F.A." carved into the handles. They were a gift from an old friend, but the story is not one she is ever willing to tell.
Abilities: A small level of supernatural strength, and above human speed, agility, reflexes, and strength, among other things like inhuman durability and stamina. On the downside, her regeneration is a very slow process [required time depending on severity of wound], and she harbors extreme weakness to things such as blessed weapons and silver to the point of fatality, and is required to drink blood more often. Also processes the ability to change virgins and non-virgins into ghouls.
In certain situations, Fausta has the great ability to think on her toes and improvise greatly in surgical matters. She contains a great knowledge of first aid and biology.
Mockery; Due to her acute hearing and plenty of time to train her vocals cords to change [not to mention a little bit of scientific help], the nurse can mimic nearly any voice that she hears for a certain amount of time, to around three or more collective minutes of speech before she can pick up on the pattern and successfully copy the tones. At the most, she can only currently maintain one different voice for around ten minutes before her vocal cords become weak and she can no longer maintain the ability. If she manages to run the full ten minutes all at once, she can't repeat the ability again for a couple of hours.
Biography: Born as a perfectly healthy, blond haired green eyed child in the early 1920's to Johannes Kaiser Adler and Lutgarda Aroa Baecker-Adler, Fausta was the only child of her family. Raised in Berlin, the world around them seemed to changed drastically as her mother and father struggled to stay with same traditions. Trapped in the old ages, they fought their hardest to keep their newly born daughter away from the ideas of the Weimar Republic and all other ideas that opposed their once great Mother Germany, even with it hard to remain optimistic in such a down time.
Growing up, her mother held no job. 'Kinder, Kueche, Kirche', it was something that her mother said quite often, almost as if trying to beat it into the small child's mind. It became such a familiar thing for the young Fausta to hear every time she was about. Though even without a job, her mother remained with the old family hobby of baking, something that Fausta's Grandfather had taught her mother. The smell of cakes and dark bread was something almost as common as her mother's favorite saying, the two going hand-in-hand together at all times. But even when she smiled, the young daughter couldn't help but question why the woman who raised her had such a sad look in her eyes all the time.
Johannes, her father, was much less colder to his younger child than the mother was. Although he spent a lot of time away from home working as a carpenter, he had a hobby as well. Whenever the man was home, he would make cuckoo clocks. Although he sold some of them, he became attached to the ticking blocks of wood and kept many of them in the room where he made them. Fausta liked to sit in that room with her father and watch the clocks being made. She enjoyed the sound, the never ending tick-tick-tick that always seemed to fill the room, none of them ticking at the same time, the noise out of sync. It seemed to be the way that she bonded with her father, the way they could stand the many sounds without being driven mad.
In the time away from her mother and father, Fausta would spend her time alone rather than with other younger children. It's not as if she didn't want to play with other children, but she was just bored with their manner of play. Instead, books filled her small room and they occupied most of her time. Published medical journals, scientific theories, dictionaries and references, and the occasional book of folklore and ghostly tales. All books that she would receive for free after begging the lady at the library for all their unwanteds. Anything that she could have, something to take up her free moments that would be useful, despite how her mother frowned upon it. Oh yes, her mother hated the books. Medicine was such an inappropriate subject for a young girl. Her mother had tried to reason with the girl, buying her books on sewing, or even the Bible, but they usually ended up in a trash heap somewhere. For some unexplained reason, Fausta was drawn to the medical world. The human body was just so fascinating.
The late 1930's came, and it was a strange time. With new rule came new laws, and the women of Germany were removed from their jobs to make more jobs for the men. Fausta had just entered a medical school, her father paying for her education, and things looked dim. Originally under the training to be a doctor, Fausta's parents feared for their daughter and her life. If she couldn't train for a job that she could use, she would have to marry and accept the loan that the law permitted to newly married couples. It was then that the girl decided on a new course. A nurse was something that would be more relevant to the times and her gender. Her area of study was changed, and she continued with her education.
In school, Fausta wasn't exactly the star pupil. Sure, she was smart and pretty quick on her toes when the time had come, but the girl found that fooling around was much more fun than studying for her exams.Luckily for Fausta, she was was able to find a way to make up for the lazy test grades in a way that everyone was a winner. It usually involved her being on her back. Or her knees.
Outside of school the war was at a boil, the people around her in a frenzy of patriotism. Although apathetic to the situation, pressure forced her to sign-up for helping the army, and she was shipped off to a medical base not too far from Moringen, the place of her nightmares.
The majority of her work there consisted of helping the injured soldiers and guards from the nearby camp, which wasn't much. Treated with general disdain, Fausta remained unhappy at her location, going through the motions of her job to keep herself alive.
On occasion, she would listen to the doctors talk, they rumored like schoolgirls about a place inside of Poland. Warsaw to be more exact. She heard talk to experiments and horror, strange people doing even stranger things. They spoke with disgust over their meals about the workers there and the strange group that held them. The idea in itself thrilled her. Someplace different, maybe a place where she would be better off.
Though not all of her time there was so unhappy. The guards at the camp, although seen by her as dim-witted little puppets, served a good part in keeping her sane. Hell, she even found herself sneaking around with one of them in a manner that could even be considered as "going steady", which was not something very common for the flighty blond. But of course for her, things could only stay good for so long.
A dangerous scuffle and a few blows with a hammer later, and Fausta found herself stuck with a dead Nazi on her hands. Delirious and panicking, she did the first thing she could think of to conceal the body. Stripping him of his uniform, hacking away at his hair and kicking a few teeth from his mouth, she dragged him to a little ditch near one of the barracks and left the body there. With his uniform, she hid it beneath all of her packed clothing, and the teeth went straight into an empty glass jar which she found in her room.
Staying there would be too dangerous, she had to leave as soon as possible. She was owed a few favors by the delivery truck driver, and the next day, she was gone in the back of the truck, hiding with the supplies. It didn't take too long for her to get back to Berlin, but there were only so many places she could go to hide. Quickly, she decided to make a visit to an old college professor. She stayed with him for a few days, during the time he mentioned an old medical school friend of his working on some great, big project. Somewhere out in Poland. It all sounded very familiar. After some persuasion, Fausta managed to get the location of this research facility from her professor, and soon again, she was off.
Inside Warsaw, she finally found what she was looking for. The Millennium research facility. After much begging, she had been granted a position as a nurse to help assist in their medical research. Fausta was more than pleased by this and entered within the group with much joy, seeming oblivious to the dissatisfaction of other doctors.
The war had ended and the Millennium fled away to Brazil, continuing where they had left off. And as they did, their research had improved greatly, and much new knowledge had been gained. Without much hesitation, the young girl offered herself as a guinea pig for a newly modified device, one that was much better than the original. The FREAK chip was placed into her system, and the living Fausta ceased to exist as human, but it did little to change her spirit.
Even though she furthered her education greatly, due to the fact that she is not formally trained she still holds the title of "nurse", inside and outside of the Millennium.
Sample:
The early story of Fausta,
Name: Fausta Gustoph Adler.
Age: Fausta is in her late eighties, though she will never admit to it.
Apparent Age: Mid to late twenties.
Gender: Female.
Race: FREAK.
Affiliation: Millennium.
Personality: About the most notable thing about Fausta would have to be her sense of humor. Albeit cruel and sometimes inappropriately placed, it still exists. More times than not this can lead to trouble, but not always. When it comes down to it, the nurse tends to lean a little more on the irrational side. She panics quickly and is prone to fits of rage and hysteria. Fausta speaks with many different inflections in her voice, varying from high to low and even the speed of her words, often time depending on her situation and even whom she speaks to. Unlike the stereotype of her heritage, she is very expressive with her face and her hands, gesturing wildly when she forgets herself and is carried away in speech.
Fausta never really had a good sense of right or wrong, even long before she worked for Millennium. She believes in doing whatever it takes to stay alive and pursuing your own interests, and if that means being on the side of "wrong", then so be it. She's less likely to keep herself alive, however, but use some poor man to come to her aid and be her big, strong hero. That was always her way of thinking, men are pawns and playthings, easily manipulated to her own will. Show them a little affection and they'll take a bullet, like a good dog.
When it comes to her own master, The Doktor, well, he's a completely different story. For the most part, Fausta won't even try to mess with him in any way. Because, to be honest, even after 60 years he still scares the shit out of her.
Like many others inside of the Millennium laboratories, Fausta is a tab bit of a coward. In the situation of having to fight, she'd much rather turn the other way and run. That's not to say she doesn't have her moments of bravery and even the more likely occasional moment of being an idiot and opening her big mouth to make things worse, she'd much rather save her own skin than try to come out as the winner of a battle.
Appearance: Always being looked down on, literally, with a height that just reaches 5'2'', not including her high heels. She's the definition of hourglass, her short torso swelling out at her chest and hips and shrinking in at the waist to a full figure, leading down to her long legs. A ghastly pale girl, her red hair reaches down a to her mid-back, the hair itself with a slight wave in it's texture, cut with layers that frame around her face and parted off to the left side. Her wide eyes are an inhuman shade of green, and appear even larger behind her glasses. Her puffy lips are more often than not pulled downwards into a pout, except for when she smiles, to which her pearly sharpened canines are exposed. She has a rather small nose, which points upwards at the tip ever so slightly. As far as make-up goes, in most cases she would be found with a bit of mascara and a touch of bright red lipstick.
If one were to look inside of Fausta's closet, they could almost be blinded by the amount of white clothing. In fact, it is almost impossible to find anything that isn't white. Most often in the laboratory, though, she can be found wearing her typical uniform, if typical is what you would call it. A white latex dress with cut outs along the sides and one on the top of her chest in the shape of a surgical cross. The dress is sleeveless and with a high neck, normally accompanied by a matching medical armband and a pair of white latex boots that reach to just a couple of inches below her knees, bearing red crosses on the tops. To top that all off, her typical nurses cap stays clipped in her hair. White with the red medical cross, like the rest of her clothing. In addition, a staple of the medical team, a pair of gloves that reach halfway to her elbows. In times for operation, she wears an apron and a surgical mask. Wire frame glasses are also sometimes added on to her appearance, but not always. Her eyesight isn't awful, but they are needed sometimes for magnification.
- Spoiler:
Choice of Weaponry: Within a small black case that she mostly keeps concealed, either inside of deep pockets or in her desk, are a couple of custom sterling silver tools. A scalpel and a pair of pliers, both with "F.A." carved into the handles. They were a gift from an old friend, but the story is not one she is ever willing to tell.
Abilities: A small level of supernatural strength, and above human speed, agility, reflexes, and strength, among other things like inhuman durability and stamina. On the downside, her regeneration is a very slow process [required time depending on severity of wound], and she harbors extreme weakness to things such as blessed weapons and silver to the point of fatality, and is required to drink blood more often. Also processes the ability to change virgins and non-virgins into ghouls.
In certain situations, Fausta has the great ability to think on her toes and improvise greatly in surgical matters. She contains a great knowledge of first aid and biology.
Mockery; Due to her acute hearing and plenty of time to train her vocals cords to change [not to mention a little bit of scientific help], the nurse can mimic nearly any voice that she hears for a certain amount of time, to around three or more collective minutes of speech before she can pick up on the pattern and successfully copy the tones. At the most, she can only currently maintain one different voice for around ten minutes before her vocal cords become weak and she can no longer maintain the ability. If she manages to run the full ten minutes all at once, she can't repeat the ability again for a couple of hours.
Biography: Born as a perfectly healthy, blond haired green eyed child in the early 1920's to Johannes Kaiser Adler and Lutgarda Aroa Baecker-Adler, Fausta was the only child of her family. Raised in Berlin, the world around them seemed to changed drastically as her mother and father struggled to stay with same traditions. Trapped in the old ages, they fought their hardest to keep their newly born daughter away from the ideas of the Weimar Republic and all other ideas that opposed their once great Mother Germany, even with it hard to remain optimistic in such a down time.
Growing up, her mother held no job. 'Kinder, Kueche, Kirche', it was something that her mother said quite often, almost as if trying to beat it into the small child's mind. It became such a familiar thing for the young Fausta to hear every time she was about. Though even without a job, her mother remained with the old family hobby of baking, something that Fausta's Grandfather had taught her mother. The smell of cakes and dark bread was something almost as common as her mother's favorite saying, the two going hand-in-hand together at all times. But even when she smiled, the young daughter couldn't help but question why the woman who raised her had such a sad look in her eyes all the time.
Johannes, her father, was much less colder to his younger child than the mother was. Although he spent a lot of time away from home working as a carpenter, he had a hobby as well. Whenever the man was home, he would make cuckoo clocks. Although he sold some of them, he became attached to the ticking blocks of wood and kept many of them in the room where he made them. Fausta liked to sit in that room with her father and watch the clocks being made. She enjoyed the sound, the never ending tick-tick-tick that always seemed to fill the room, none of them ticking at the same time, the noise out of sync. It seemed to be the way that she bonded with her father, the way they could stand the many sounds without being driven mad.
In the time away from her mother and father, Fausta would spend her time alone rather than with other younger children. It's not as if she didn't want to play with other children, but she was just bored with their manner of play. Instead, books filled her small room and they occupied most of her time. Published medical journals, scientific theories, dictionaries and references, and the occasional book of folklore and ghostly tales. All books that she would receive for free after begging the lady at the library for all their unwanteds. Anything that she could have, something to take up her free moments that would be useful, despite how her mother frowned upon it. Oh yes, her mother hated the books. Medicine was such an inappropriate subject for a young girl. Her mother had tried to reason with the girl, buying her books on sewing, or even the Bible, but they usually ended up in a trash heap somewhere. For some unexplained reason, Fausta was drawn to the medical world. The human body was just so fascinating.
The late 1930's came, and it was a strange time. With new rule came new laws, and the women of Germany were removed from their jobs to make more jobs for the men. Fausta had just entered a medical school, her father paying for her education, and things looked dim. Originally under the training to be a doctor, Fausta's parents feared for their daughter and her life. If she couldn't train for a job that she could use, she would have to marry and accept the loan that the law permitted to newly married couples. It was then that the girl decided on a new course. A nurse was something that would be more relevant to the times and her gender. Her area of study was changed, and she continued with her education.
In school, Fausta wasn't exactly the star pupil. Sure, she was smart and pretty quick on her toes when the time had come, but the girl found that fooling around was much more fun than studying for her exams.Luckily for Fausta, she was was able to find a way to make up for the lazy test grades in a way that everyone was a winner. It usually involved her being on her back. Or her knees.
Outside of school the war was at a boil, the people around her in a frenzy of patriotism. Although apathetic to the situation, pressure forced her to sign-up for helping the army, and she was shipped off to a medical base not too far from Moringen, the place of her nightmares.
The majority of her work there consisted of helping the injured soldiers and guards from the nearby camp, which wasn't much. Treated with general disdain, Fausta remained unhappy at her location, going through the motions of her job to keep herself alive.
On occasion, she would listen to the doctors talk, they rumored like schoolgirls about a place inside of Poland. Warsaw to be more exact. She heard talk to experiments and horror, strange people doing even stranger things. They spoke with disgust over their meals about the workers there and the strange group that held them. The idea in itself thrilled her. Someplace different, maybe a place where she would be better off.
Though not all of her time there was so unhappy. The guards at the camp, although seen by her as dim-witted little puppets, served a good part in keeping her sane. Hell, she even found herself sneaking around with one of them in a manner that could even be considered as "going steady", which was not something very common for the flighty blond. But of course for her, things could only stay good for so long.
A dangerous scuffle and a few blows with a hammer later, and Fausta found herself stuck with a dead Nazi on her hands. Delirious and panicking, she did the first thing she could think of to conceal the body. Stripping him of his uniform, hacking away at his hair and kicking a few teeth from his mouth, she dragged him to a little ditch near one of the barracks and left the body there. With his uniform, she hid it beneath all of her packed clothing, and the teeth went straight into an empty glass jar which she found in her room.
Staying there would be too dangerous, she had to leave as soon as possible. She was owed a few favors by the delivery truck driver, and the next day, she was gone in the back of the truck, hiding with the supplies. It didn't take too long for her to get back to Berlin, but there were only so many places she could go to hide. Quickly, she decided to make a visit to an old college professor. She stayed with him for a few days, during the time he mentioned an old medical school friend of his working on some great, big project. Somewhere out in Poland. It all sounded very familiar. After some persuasion, Fausta managed to get the location of this research facility from her professor, and soon again, she was off.
Inside Warsaw, she finally found what she was looking for. The Millennium research facility. After much begging, she had been granted a position as a nurse to help assist in their medical research. Fausta was more than pleased by this and entered within the group with much joy, seeming oblivious to the dissatisfaction of other doctors.
The war had ended and the Millennium fled away to Brazil, continuing where they had left off. And as they did, their research had improved greatly, and much new knowledge had been gained. Without much hesitation, the young girl offered herself as a guinea pig for a newly modified device, one that was much better than the original. The FREAK chip was placed into her system, and the living Fausta ceased to exist as human, but it did little to change her spirit.
Even though she furthered her education greatly, due to the fact that she is not formally trained she still holds the title of "nurse", inside and outside of the Millennium.
Sample:
The early story of Fausta,
- Spoiler:
- For a night in early August, the air seemed unusually cold. Not the kind of cold that you would normally expect from that time of the year, with it's cool breezes and fair humidity. This night was under a chill, so much so that words turned into drifting white clouds once they left the speaker's mouth. The kind of cold that turns the tip of your nose red while turning your lips a pale blue. The exact kind of weather that makes you regret leaving the cozy warmth of your own home, making you wish that you had just stayed inside, or at least bundled up a little bit better. There were no other options here, though. If you were ordered to go outside, then you were to stay outside until your shift was through. That's the way things were at this camp, no complaints and no back talk, regardless of the circumstances. No, it was nothing like a home. Not unless your home was a large field scattered with barbed wire fences, large guard towers, and run down little wooden shacks.
But somewhere along the far, inside perimeter of the outside gate, tucked quite a distance away from all the other huts, a single wooden shed stood, hidden in plain sight as many ventured away from the dilapidated building. Crouched among the many boxes and tables, though, a female sat on the floor of this shed. Her knees pressed to her chest and a cigarette hanging loosely from her lips, the blond eyed at the only window that the shed was built with. It was a pretty high window, reaching almost towards the ceiling where a dim light bulb hung dangerously overhead. From years of neglect, the glass on the window was covered in a thick layer of dust and dirt, obscuring the view from outside, but every so often, the spotlight from the guard tower flashed across, sending shadows dancing over the walls before dying down to their original shape once again.
It was obvious that this girl was a bit on the nervous side by the way that she tapped her foot, and by the manner in which her green eyes darted back and forth between the window at her side and then to the door in front of her, repeating this cycle many times over. Every few seconds or so, she found herself reaching up to adjust the little white cap that was fastened into her long, blond hair. A nurse's cap, to go along with the plain white dress and the cape thrown over her shoulders. The ever original uniform for the nurses. As much as she despised the matronly outfit, she didn't want to bother with returning to her quarters just to change out of the thing. If plans were to go accordingly, she wouldn't be wearing it for too much longer. For now, she just had to be patient.
Taking a long drag of her cigarette, the nurse finally plucked the cancer stick out of her lips, blowing a large plume of smoke out into the air in front of her. Being patient wasn't usually her strong spot. Sitting and being bored only meant that her mind would wander. It was like being forced to think. Right now, she could only think about Berlin, and how badly she missed it there. It had only been a good three months since she was stationed at this camp, and it wasn't a particularly bad place, but it just didn't hold the same excitement. Prisoners, doctors, soldiers, it all sounds so exciting when you hear about it, but when you boil it down, it is just a tad overrated. She would take a cabaret and some schnapps over this any day.
All things considered, the one thing that she missed the most was her father. After all, he was the only person who ever truly supported her decisions. When she was a little girl and wanted books instead of dollies, he would always get her exactly what she asked for. In school, when she decided to go to college instead of getting married and having children, like her mother so begged of her to do, he was right behind her. She could even remember the day she announced to her parents that she was offering her services over her, and would be shipping out soon. The screaming and ranting that her mother did, she could never forget that. But what she remembered the most was the way her father pattered her on the shoulder as her disappointed mother disappeared behind a slammed door, and told her that everything was going to be okay.
The door to the shed gave a sudden creak as it slowly began to open. The tiny blond nurse jumped, reaching back to smother out her cigarette on the floor behind her. And as if on cue, a head poked in through the doorway. Perfectly cropped blond hair, a pale yellow that complimented the healthy pink shade of his skin. A strong jaw, a cleft chin, and some of the lightest blue eyes she had ever seen, set just right in his head. Not too close together and not too far apart. Yes, perfect. A real poster boy if you ever saw one, looking sleek and clean in his guard's uniform as he emerged fully into the room, closing the door behind him ever so gently. In his hand was a sort of folder, but he put it behind his back before she could get a real good look at it. Silently, he sniffed at the air.
"Fausta, have you been smokingk again?" This perfect man asked dryly down at the nurse who was now collecting herself off of the floor, dusting off her backside as she gave a weak chuckle. "Don't be silly, Matthias, it's just musty in here. Zhat's vhat you get for pickingk zhis old junk room for a meetingk spot. Why couldn't ve just do it in your room like last time?" She questioned halfheartedly, wiping away a few stray pieces of dust that stuck to the shoulder of her cape. He didn't bother with answering, he only clenched his jaw and eyed her suspiciously in response. The young woman could feel his gaze and fought the strong urge that she felt to roll her eyes at him. Yes, she was smoking a cigarette, it wouldn't be the first time they had this argument. She grew tired of his constant pestering that her evil cigarettes would somehow destroy their future children and blah blah blah. Like she wanted to keep hearing that stupid lecture.
Sighing deeply, the man shook his head slowly, that sort of disappointed parent look. "Ve need to talk," he explained, now holding up the folder that he had been hiding before. On the tab at the very top, letters were printed in bold, reading "ADLER, FAUSTA". The girl froze, staring with dread at the folder. Through their silence, faint noises from the camp outside could be heard. The distant sound of digging, the occasional chatter from a passing group of men. The guard tower spotlight shone by once again, casting heavy shadows over the two standing figures before it disappeared as quickly as it came, the both of them lapsing back into near darkness which brought an end to their silence. "So, vhen vere you goingk to tell me about zhis?" He asked, shaking the folder in front of her face.
This was another sort of lecture that the nurse didn't feel in the mood for. If she had to guess, then those papers that he was waving about in front of her face were her medical files. Definitely not the sort of information she was willing to share, especially not with this guy. It wasn't as if she didn't like him, quite the contrary, she was okay with his presence as long as they didn't talk much. It helped their "relationship" last. He called it a relationship, she just called it the one guy she slept with the most for a long span of time. But what's the difference? He could call it whatever as long as she still got what she wanted from it.
"I, uh...." She hesitated for a long moment, her gaze drifting off to stare over his shoulder at the shed door. This conversation was going places that she never wanted to travel to. Fleeing, it seemed like such a lovely concept, but with Nazi boy between her and the door, it didn't appear to be an option. "I didn't zhink zhat it mattered,[/color]" she managed to stutter. It had come to her attention by now that the gap between them was beginning to close as he took a few short steps forward. "Zhis doesn't matter to you?" He asked, taking another step. His icy eyes were now narrowed down at her, his large frame towering over her miniscule height. She suddenly felt very, very small. "Our future doesn't matter to you?" He seethed, a cloud of cold breath escaping from his lips.
"Matthias, look, plea-" as she had attempted to reach for him, to maybe sooth his poor mood, her pleas were cut short as he snatched her wrist up with his free hand, clutching it tightly. "No, you see here you little whore. You've been toyingk vith me zhis whole time, haven't you?" Fausta took a step back, trying to twist her way out of his grip, a pained look flickering over her face. Honesty was not going to be the best policy here, if she was going to get out of this predicament, then more lies were going to be needed. "No! I, uh, I-""-You vhat? You love me? Spare me, I'm done vith beingk your puppet. Vith all I've done for you, zhe gifts, zhe favors, you're just a vorthless slut, not even capable of bearigk children!"
They were now face to face despite her current attempts to back away from the raving man, and suddenly she fond herself cornered, her back pressed against an old work table and him pushed hard up against her. Behind him, she could make out the trail of fallen papers, her medical files spilled out across the filthy floor, the folder now crushed underneath his boot. Something on the nurses face felt cold and wet, running down her cheeks to her chin. She hadn't even realized until that moment that she was crying. The warm tears froze against her cold face. The sudden realization of this also brought to her attention the terrible way in which her legs were shaking. She needed to run away, but this was the horror of being trapped.
"Let me go!" She choked out through her sobs, giving another violent jerk to maybe pull her way out of his fist as he held on to her tighter. To her complete astonishment, he released his grip and allowed her to pull back her arm. She gripped at her wrist with her other hand, rubbing at the skin which was beginning to turn purple and bruise, fingers marks showing darkly on her pale skin. "[b]I'm still not done vith you, yet,[b]" he growled menacingly. She never got the time to react before she found herself with both of his hands around her frail neck, squeezing just as tightly as he had done to her wrist. In an instant, the nurse found herself panicking, beating her hands against his chest with little to no effect on him. As hard as she wanted to scream, not a single noise escaped from her throat but the choked gags and a few weak whimpers that had managed to fight their way through. Time, and air, were quickly running out.
Flailing her arms behind her, her fingers raked about on the table's surface, searching for something, anything, that could possibly help her. Anything to save her. Far back enough, she felt something cold brush against her finger tips. Without hesitation, she gripped it and flung it forward with all the strength she could managed. A direct blow right to the top of his head had made his release his grip, but she wasn't stopping. Panting for air and sobbing, she drew the object back again and and aimed another blow forward, this time wailing him right across the face. Her crying had reached hysterical levels as the blood from each hit splattered against her face and uniform. His heavy figure dropped down to the floor, blood leaking out from his wounds to soil the floor further. Scattered over the papers around him were bits of flesh and skull that had managed to come loose, along with a couple of teeth she knocked out when she hit him hard on the second blow.
Outside, the spotlight from the guard tower flashed by, casting eerie shadows inside the shed. Dropping the bloodied hammer from her hands, Fausta sank down to her knees, her hands covering her face as she continued to sob. She was a killer now, a murderer. Fleeing, that was the only think she could think to do.
Last edited by Fausta Adler on Wed Nov 02, 2011 10:45 pm; edited 2 times in total
Fausta Adler- The One With The Teeth
- Posts : 31
Join date : 2011-11-02
Hellsing: Crossroads RPG :: Registry :: Registry :: Approved
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