Cade
Greaser
Posts: 73
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Post by Cade on Jun 25, 2006 19:05:25 GMT -5
Dedrick frowned at being called "kid". He was no d*** kid! "What? You're going to shoot me?" But he took a small step back. A small one that is, as he wasn't even certain it was any kind of weapon Heinrich was reaching for.
Jeroen cast a glance at Miss and began sauntering nonchalantly over to where Heinrich was standing. He walked around the man's feet, purring, turning on his feline charm. Heinrich was, apparently, a dog person... But who could resist a poor, innocent cat?
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Post by A.ngel on Jun 26, 2006 20:00:06 GMT -5
Miss curled her lips and snarled. How dare he. It made her sick to think he acted like that... Yet, it was amusing.
Angel started playing with the hem of her skirt, trying to be invisable and not included in the conversation.
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Post by Heinrich Zöhler on Jun 28, 2006 16:16:46 GMT -5
Heinrich was gratified to see the boy take a small step back, looking wary. Maybe this would work after all. With any luck, he could be on his way home in a few minutes, assuming the boy didn't try anything stupid. He looked angry at Heinrich’s words—teens like him didn’t like being called younger than they felt when they really were. Enjoy that when you still have the time, if you can…
"What? You're going to shoot me?"
The question was sharp, accusing, and although it wasn’t meant as an insult it bit deep, deeper than the memory of a bullet still hot from the muzzle of a machine gun biting into his shoulder and the white streak of pain as another grazed his jaw, effectively slashing the skin open. There had been lots of those injuries during the war: it was something that every soldier faced and often suffered through, being shot. But that particular wounding, which had not been the first, had been from the explosion of a plane, and not an enemy one. A friend’s. Fritz’s. The memory hurt almost like a physical pain, and it was all Heinrich could do not to gasp with the force of the mental dam he had built around that particular day abruptly broke, swamping his mind with unwanted memory. As it was, a spasm of the pain still flashed across his face, dulling his harsh gaze for a moment before he recovered himself.
You’re going to shoot me?
God, no, not after that horrible visit to the past. It was just as well that he wasn’t carrying his officer’s Walther pistol, but the fact that the boy had automatically figured that what he was reaching for was a gun was awful. It was as if the young man had been born into war like some had—this was not a war, but a rough way of life. Heinrich would have felt bad for him had he not been the despicable sort of person who hurt those weaker than him for pleasure.
“How many times you been shot at, kid?” Heinrich snarled, taking his hand from his pocket and stepping forward to cover the distance. “Maybe around here, you would, but not uptown where you live—I know your type. How many times, huh? Once? Twice? Three times, even? I don’t think so.”
Pressure at his ankles halted him from taking another step, and the ex-pilot paused to glance down on a tomcat winding its way around his feet, purring hopefully. Hesitantly, Heinrich stooped and scooped the cat up gently, cradling him in one arm and scratching him behind his ears absently in the spot all felines seemed to enjoy with the other hand.
“This is your cat, yes?” The question was rhetorical: he had seen the way the cat acted around the boy enough to know that the two knew one another. “You have pets. A nice house. Parents. Friends.” He spat the last word, his tone definitely angry. “And you’re not happy with that, so you go around preying on girls for fun. You make me sick. You don’t deserve what you have.”
Carefully, he gave the cat one last pet and set him down on the ground, nudging him gently towards his owner as a suggestion. Cats took suggestions, not orders, and then decided what they would do with their options: you couldn’t interfere with that decision-making, simply give them a good opinion. Maybe this boy was the same way, if he was indeed the type of person who liked and understood cats, but the metaphor only occurred briefly to Heinrich before slipping away.
“No, I’m not going to shoot you,” he said quietly, expressionless once again after exhaling once. “There’s no sense in killing or wounding—you’re too young to understand that, obviously.” Heinrich let that sink it, let it hurt, before going on. “Maybe you would have gotten it if you’d seen and done certain things, but, well…” He shrugged. “Times change. In a different circumstance, you might be an honorable person, but now you’re just a snot-nosed brat with time to waste ruining other people’s lives. Go home, kid, and if you bother her again or don’t walk away right now I’ll make you pay.”
Heinrich met the boy’s eyes levelly, his icy gaze penetrating deep. You’d have to be a fool to think he wasn’t telling the truth.
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Cade
Greaser
Posts: 73
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Post by Cade on Jun 30, 2006 18:06:46 GMT -5
Dedrick's gaze darkened. Heh, so, his life was so perfect, was it? No, it wasn't. Good, yes - but perfect? Not at all. "You know nothing."
Jeroen didn't budge at Heinrich's touch. He pretended to be occupied with grooming his fur but in reality his cold eyes were fixed on the humans.
"Fine!" He took a bold (or stupid?) step forward, a mix of emotions in his face. "Make me pay! Make me understand! Make me understand why..." The young man faltered.
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Post by ~Steve~ on Jun 30, 2006 18:44:39 GMT -5
Hannah was running down the street with her hair blowing behind her and her sunglassed sheilding her eyes. Hannah was doing one of her dialy runs. She slowed to a walking pace with her haert racing when she heard a comotion going on. She tured the corner and saw two boys and a girl with her dog. She stopped and sileintly watched. She was interested in this until she got pretty bored and tired from her long run. She was panting alittle and she leaned agianst the wall. She hoped that they would not get mad at her for standing here. Hannah pushed back her bangs and she sat on the wall closest to her. She kicked her feet ad she put her arms down next to her. She sighed and then she snapped open her eyes when a chilling breeze came upon her. She wished she brought her coat. She hugged her self. She curled up her knees and rested her chin on the and wrapped her arms around them. This is what she loved to do when shee was cold. She reached into one of her pockets and found a candy bar. She opened it and took a bite. She loved it and it melted when it hit her tounge. She threw away the wrapper. She ate some more. She remembered she took it from her dads candy stash. She smirked to herself and then finished it.
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