I don't own RWBY or Call of Cthulhu The Wicked City
Please take the translations with a grain of salt, German isn't my first language and Blake has yet to learn how to speak it fluently.
June 21st 1925
Red Mill Cabaret, Berlin.
3rd POV
Opening back up on the Red Mill, Ren and Blake were forced to sit with Anita and her arm candy. It was bad enough how she is having sex with him so openly but also crammed in with two drunk groupies who were trying to get to Anita and were more than eager to get into both friends pants.
"So, there I was face down with this cute Arian with his face deep in my bush when suddenly this KPD came out of the closet. Turned out the NSDAP and KPD were both meeting behind close doors to hook up. So I told the two if they want me to keep quiet then let me beat their monkey!" Anita joked before letting out a drug induced chuckle as she recounted how she scored a pet monkey. "Heh heh… anyways, they both moved to Holland I think. But I still got that horny little Affe."
She looked with an awe of adoring at her pet as it was beating its own monkey on the table. After a few awkward moments of nothing but slapping noises, Ren finally spoke up.
"Well that was… intriguing, but I think we should get going now." Ren said as he tried to cover his eyes and at the same time stop one of the groupies from pulling down his pants.
"Non sense you two are the most interesting (German word for Foreigner's) I've met and believe me I had a fling with visiting royalty." Anita said before getting off her escorts dick to lean over the table to snort more cocaine. "Where a nun and a Chinese boy meet?"
"I'm not Chinese." Ren said before quickly adding, "I'm uh Vietnamese."
"Vietnamese?" Anita asked with a raised brow before Blake held up a note.
"Indo-China." It read as Blake swats away the Groupie's hand that was touching her boob.
"Ooooooh, Wunderbar. So how did a mute and Vietnamese man become friends. Did you once fucked in the confessional?" Anita asked before breaking out in a giggle as she sits back down on her escorts erected dick.
"No… we went to school in California." Ren said with a disapproving look on his face.
"Ugh, can never live out there. Too strict and as much as I'd love to ride one of the Warner twins I can't stand the heat." Anita Chuffs before grinding up and down. "Here the weather is so much cooler and the bodies are so much warmer. We are free to express our self's however we please. Shame you two won't throw off your shackles of modesty and society, explore the wonders of the body."
"Seems you disagree with Max Nordau critics of the Decadent movement." Ren remarks to Anita's comment on what was essentially her wanting to be in everyone's pants. "Even you would have to agree if we allow for unadulterated hedonism you'd find yourself looking for darker things to explore."
"What like Großmann?" Anita remarks before getting up to snort. As she does this catches Blake's attention. "There are many faults in all systems. I can easily point to the stuffiness of the royal house hold of the English inspire to uphold. No offense Katze but those robes look better at the bottom of my bed."
Blake rolled her eyes before quickly scribbling down on her paper. She was so focused on it that only after did she swatted her hand out from under her robes. The note reading, "Back up. You know Großmann?"
"Know him, Tsk. I had the up most unpleasurable experience being beside him." Anita said with a frown.
"Who?" Ren asked as he again swatted the groupie's hand who was trying to go down his pants.
"Großmann. You might know him as the Butcher. How'd he take girls from places like this. Off the train from the east. He'd like them young. Taking them to his home in Lang Strasse 88/89. Some days they walk out with payments of cash or sausages. Other times… they don't walk out at all. That is the only exciting thing about him. His Lustmord upon the little girls of Berlin. I'd like that, Lustmord. Killing in a frenzy of ecstasy and passion. I'm writing a small poem and play with that. Would you like to see it?"
"Please back track to the part about the girls. By chance was one of them named Franziska Schamzkovkas?" Blake wrote before holding up that paper. As she does she again seats the Groupies hand to get out from under her robe again.
"Hmmm… sounds Polish." Anita said before snorting more cocain. "Oh, * remember him last having a Polish girl. Maybe a kiss might restart my memory."
"Seriously?" Ren asked with a disapproving frown. He had no idea why Blake is interested in this Franziska Schamzkovkas person but if it gets him away from these grouping girls then fine.
"Ja, a kiss… right here." Anita said as she stands up. Sitting softly on her escorts head to reveal her mud flaps. Still soaked in a mixture of her and her escorts fluid. The two go silent as the scene moves over to the other table. There the three men watch what was going on as they drank their beers.
"Fuckin hell. That woman don't know her cunt from her brains now can she." FEB remarks
"That's Anita for you." Detective Hooker hmm as he sips from his beer. "Swear some days she's worse than the communist."
"Thought you Americans never liked communism?" Olof asked.
"Aye, but that's in America. This is Berlin. Things are much more different than home." Detective Hooker remarks.
"So that makes you what? A socialist?" FEB said in a crude joking manner.
"Naw. Never said I'd like Communist here. I'm simply remarking that you have to tolerate them. German is too… open. Bolsheviks, Stalinist, Trotskyites, Marxist, anarchist, these Fascists similar to those down south. Monarchist, liberals, conservatives. And so many more parties that if you ain't connected the. You will be pissing on the heals of someone who is." Detective Hooker explains.
"Sounds complicated. Nothing like home." Olof remarks before taking a sip.
"It is. But if I can give any worldly advice about this wicked city. The only thing worse than a Bolshevik is a German one, and the only thing worse than the average German is the average German cabaret." Detective Hooker said as he takes a swig from his mug.
"Tsk, can get behind that. Never was my scene before I found that cunt." FEB said before down his mug.
"Who, the girl? That's a bit rude even for a Scotsman." Olof remarks.
"Wasn't talking about the Fecking girl." FEB said before pointing to the white collar he was forced to wear before pointing up. It then dawns upon Olof who he was calling a cunt but before Olof could remark on that FEB quickly turned to Detective Hooker. "Hey do you mind getting me another glass, preferably the one that doesn't taste like piss."
"Why? Get it yourself old man." Detective Hooker comments.
"Because I'm the one who tried to break the man's arm… Yank." FEB explains as he pushes the glass to him.
Detective Hooker looks at FEB with annoyance before taking the glass to get a refill. Once gone FEB then turns to Olof. "Right, so how you met the skinny kid?"
"Pardon me?" Olof asked before FEB points with his eyes at Ren.
"The special kid. I know about this other planet bull shite. So spill it. Where you met him?" FEB whispered.
"Oh um, fishing trip near the Philippines. My son… one of them at least. We got stuck in a storm while fishing for Bangus when we came upon a strange rock formation. Filled with old ships from the centuries. You wouldn't believe who inhabited those rocks." Olof said with a shudder.
"Swedish… I met the Lass during a will reading where I was forced to do an exorcism on the cat ear lass. Six people died and fuck know where that butler shuffled off to cause he never returned home despite claiming to be a foot in the grave as is." FEB comments catching Olof's ear.
"Wait she was possessed by a demon?" Olof asked.
"No, some fucked up familiar from America. Figure those Yanks have their demons. Now, carry on later. Hopefully this toothpick of a China man doesn't throw me off a god damn train like the last." FEB remarks as he spots Detective Hooker returning. Olof gave a strange look but quickly straightened himself as Detective Hooker sets the beers down.
"There you happy Scotts man?" Detective Hooker asked as he sits down.
"As a fuckin bug on a drug." FEB retorts as he takes a sip.
"So… what were you two old timers talking about? War stories?" Detective Hooker asked.
"Naw… just why a married man was talking with a drugged-up street Walker." FEB lied before turning to Olof. "So why were you?"
"Oh um… it's not what you think." Olof mumbles as he was out on the spot. "See my son has gone missing. Ren. That boy knows where he is. He joined an expedition with the Miskatonic Academic society. He went missing and we followed his trail from an island off the coast of Chili to Berlin. Apparently a member spent time with Ms. Reff and me and Ren were asking her about it when her um… regulars I guess, got annoyed waiting."
"Huh… where he and this expedition went off to?" Detective Hooker asked only for Olof to frown.
"Saint Petersburg." He said grimly.
"Fuckin Russia?" FEB asked with a raised brow. "The fuck they go there for… beside the Caviar, vodka, and suicidal novelists?"
Before Olof could answer Blake and Ren walked over to the table. She looked disturbed as she held up a note to the group. It reading, "Time to go. I got what we came here for."
"Oh so how did you two managed to get Anita to spill it?" Detective Hooker asked. "It's not easy she aways wants something for something."
The two remained quiet as neither one wants to talk about it. After a full minute of an uncomfortable silence did Blake begins to write hesitantly. "Never mind that. Franziska Schamzkovkas was institutionalized at Dalldorf Asylum. She leapt into the Spree a few months after Großmann killed himself."
"Why would she do something like that?" Olof asked a bit taken back by that drastic action.
"From what I gather from Blake's task. She had a lot on her mind. Being the personal favorite working girl of someone as fiendish Großmann was just the final nail in that coffin." Ren answers for Blake.
"Well that settles it." FEB said as he stands up as he finish chugging his beer. "We inform that Russian cunt about where he can find his mythical princesses and we get paid."
Blake rolled her eyes but she can understand that much at least. She was not accustomed to these dens of filth… least not the kind that are not on paper. The others soon follow suit out of that stuffy basement as the echoes of Anita's groupies moans can be heard echoing out behind them. As they do, Blake pulled Ren aside.
"I'm glad to see a familiar face. Sorry it had to be in such a place." Blake wrote before showing it to Ren.
"Me too. Though something tells me you'll be forced to be accustomed to scenes like this" Ren remarks cryptically to Blake confusion. Before she could pen what was he was talking about, he asked. "How's Nora doing?"
Blake's eyes widened at that question as she was so focused on keeping those deviant groupies that she forgot to tell Ren. She knew they were close and from what Nora told it she misses him severally. However how did he know she met Nora? Quickly writing down something before handing it to Ren. "Fine. She suffered a horrible injury to her face but still as cheerful as I remember her. How did you know that I saw her?"
Ren pulls out a folded French military recruitment poster from his pocket. On it was Nora. "I heard while we made a stop in England about what happened in Paris. Rumors of a woman with 'oreilles de chat' spread about but were quickly dismissed."
Blake gives a nod as she too heard those rumors. She then quickly writes down a message. "If you want. I can pass on her address should you want to write to her."
"Thanks but… I think I'll be frequently on the move so she'll have a hard time mailing me. By chance instead you send a letter to her? It's going to be awhile before we can leave for Russia." Ren asked before quickly scribbling down something on paper. "I'm staying at the Potsamer Platz in room 357 A."
Blake nods before writing down her address. "Alright, I'm at in the Mitte District, Jagowstraße street. How about we meet up at Romanisches Café in the Auguste Viktoria Platz for breakfast?"
"By the Elefantentor zoo?" Ren asked to which she nods. "Alright. I'll get to writing that letter then. Good night Blake."
Ren extends his hand out and Blake's shakes it. The two part from there promising to see each other in the morning. However life has a way of throwing a wrench into one's plans. That night, Ren couldn't sleep. Granted he barely got any sleep since his Coma but the dreams were… they were not normal. Or normal as usual. He saw himself in a car getting off the train. As he was chauffeured to Berlin, a black car rammed into the car he was sitting in. The car rammed again before the window opens to reveal a young man. Holding a MP-18 he riddled the car, blasting chunks of metal and flesh from Rens body, car, and the Chauffeur. As the car rolls into a ditch, Ren was somehow still alive despite having multiple holes in his body. Just then two Stielhandgranate dropped down into the car. Rolling to his feet. What felt like an hour before a sudden burst of light spook Ren awake.
"Bad dream?" Olof asked as he looked down at Ren.
"Possibly…" Ren said as he slowly pulls himself from the carpeted floor. "Possibly not."
"Hmm, more of your cryptic Skit?" Olof asked with a raised brow.
"No this one is within your realm of knowledge." Ren said… making Olof frown with more annoyance from how Cryptic Ren is being. Before he could ask the phone suddenly rings. Ren gets up to answer it.
"Um, Morgen, wer ist das?" Ren asked in German over the line.
"Is this Мистер. Lie Ren I'm speaking to now?" A Russian accent voice asked in English.
"It's Ren, and speaking." Ren said.
"Well my eastern friend I have a proposal for you and your Swedish Companion. First let me introduce myself I'm…" Before he could finish Ren cuts him off.
"You're Prince Gabriel Constantinovich. A Russian Calvary officer who is working to try and undo the November revolution of 1917 and bring together the remaining royalist forces. I know who you are sir." Ren said cutting Prince Gabriel Constantinovich off.
"Huh… normally I'd cut your head off for talking impolitely to your uppers but it's for once nice to meet a man who is to the point." Prince Gabriel Constantinovich said before carrying on. "I've been told by your friend, Sister Blake about you needing to get into Russia. To find someone yes… well perhaps we can both help one another."
"… go on." Ren said with a sigh knowing full well we're this is going.
"Well as you know I'm looking for someone named Franziska Schamzkovkas. A woman who I believe to be the last of our Royal line, Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna of Russia. Thanks to your friend's efforts I had my associates retrieve her paperwork from Dalldorf Asylum. However it seems there is another problem. Someone else has found her. A month before I hire your friend, a Baron Arthur Von Kliester, former Полиция of now Poland has taken custody of her from the asylum into his care. He plans on showing her to the press tonight at his hotel south of my hotel in charlottenburg"
"So you want me and my friend to what exactly? Break into the apartment and bring her to safety." Ren asked.
"No, no nothing that drastic. Rather just attend the party, confirm she is indeed the Grand Duchess and I'll get my loyal followers to take her away from that greedy Prussian. In exchange I will use my contacts to get you into Russia." Prince Gabriel Constantinovich proposed. Ren thought about it for a moment as he turned to Olof who was looking at Ren with a confused look as he was putting on his clothes. After a few moments Ren agrees reluctantly. Something about Prince Gabriel Constantinovich feels… off.
"Alright… but we are going to need suits. Black ties." Ren states much to Prince Gabriel Constantinovich excitement.
"Вандерул! I'll have my personal trailer prepare something for the two of you as well as pull some strings to get you four in. I have asked your friends and they will accompany you. I'd advise you take the time to prepare yourself. Eat plenty of grain, if there is one thing to know. we Russians know how to party like Cathryn the great was our host and invite in one." Prince Gabriel Constantinovich said with much excitement and nostalgia for the days and parties of the winter palace. Ren however was unsure as he only ever met one Russian who was eager for parties… and he nearly stole his soul trying to escape the dream lands.
Later that night in hotel Russia Charlottenburg (Constantinovich)
That night, Ren and Olof attended the party. The only way to the apartment was by Elevator. As the door's dinged the two exited in their tuxedo's. The room was swarmed with many high ranking, influential, and wealthiest people in Berlin. Everyone from politicians, military, foreign nobility, and the press were busy socializing with one another that nobody noticed the two entering.
"So… a German Baron wanting to get into the good graces of an exile monarchy. Tsk, and here I was thinking Berlin couldn't get any stranger." Olof said as he pulls on his tight collar.
"Trust me… it can get weird. Specially if the monk's get involve." Ren said with a shudder. Earning another annoyed glance from Olof for his cryptic words. Looking around he spotted two familiar faces in the crowd. In the corner of the room was FEB looking uncomfortable in his tuxedo. With Blake out of her nun disguise and in a purple dress with a flapper head piece designed to hide her Faunas features.
"Aw, looks like they arrived earlier." Olof said point to Blake and FEB by the window.
"Yeah… and it seems they are as accustomed to this as we are." Ren said as he see's one nobility getting a little too friendly with Blake. He then walks over to the two.
Blake and FEB had arrived thirty minutes earlier. At the request of Prince Gabriel Constantinovich and the promise of an additional payment they arrived at this party. Right away they stuck out like a sore thumb. These Russian's seem either interested in Sex, food, or drinks and nothing else. Suppose for a bunch of nobility's this might be the average day but the fact that the Germans want food first before Sex did nothing but fuel the other's vices as vice versa. Blake tried her best to make herself disappear into the crowd of sycophant but her natural beauty and fleeing personality made her the ideal courtship. As the noble was getting a bit touchy with Blake she ponders whether to punch him or not when suddenly a familiar voice was heard form behind.
"Izvinite, no ya dumayu, chto vy uzhe dostatochno vypili, i dama, pokhozhe, vami ne interesuyetsya... no mogu li ya porekomendovat' vmesto etogo poprobovat' svoi sily s gornichnoy?" Ren spoke in Russian to the would-be suitor. The man tried to argue back but whatever Ren said scared him off. Or sent him packing Blake could not tell as she just got her grasp on Germen.
"The fuck you learned Russian?!" FEB blurts out what everyone was thinking
"Met a monk in the Dreamlands." Ren said with a shrug. The two gave a strange look as Ren smuggles a glass of champain from a server before handing it to Blake. "You look lovely tonight."
Blake takes the Champaign from Ren with a curious look before sipping on it. Nearly spitting it out upon the taste as she never really had anything beyond that cup of Saki that her parent's allowed to try as a kid. As she takes it back again. She begins to write on her paper, "Thanks. You look dashing as well."
"Yeah… takes you back. To Beacon dance. Remember that?" Ren asked with a rare smile from the happy nostalgia memories of that evening. Blake nods concurrently as she recalls that night very fondly.
"Hmm, doubt any of those fancy balls involve Vodka mixed with Champaign." FEB remarks cause Blake once again to spit out her drink.
'That… explains why it tasted so awful… I think.' Blake said in her head as she quickly goes to discreetly dump it in a nearby fern.
"No we didn't… but alcohol like this barely affects me anymore." Ren said as he finishes his heavily spiked Vodka infused Champaign.
"Hmm, kids got stone's I'll give you that." FEB said with a minor impression.
"Claims he gain a high tolerance after being comatose from drinking a portent brew called space mead. The Helvete that means is beyond me." Olof told FEB who gave a strange look at Ren.
"Space mead? What in that's Cunt ass is that Swedish?" FEB asked. Olof simply gave a shrug as in truth he has no idea what that kid is even saying. Half the time it's almost as if he were possessed and the other half it's almost as if he was possessing. Just then there came a loud dinging from a set of two doors. Out walks a tall lengthy man with a grey Van Dyke beard. He adjusted his glasses as he spoke to the crowd in German.
"Meine Damen und Herren. Fast 7 year to nächsten Monat. Der Große Krieg has taken away one of the ältesten a vornehmsten of houses. Cousin des Kaisers, Zar Nickolas Oberhaupt of the Romanov and Kaiser of Russland was killed. Grausam durch unbefleckte untainted masses of Kriminellen who covert their falschen Ideologie verbergen that has stripped away göttlichen Rechte der alten Zeit zugunsten for barbarity of the new Er und seine königliche Linie was ended that Nacht. And we trauerten their Tod even amongst us Deutschen… but as I have herausgefunden the Romanows noch fortbestehen. For you see, the Großherzogin survived that execution by those kommunistischen Schleimer. Und has fallen graciously Stadt gefallen." The man said in his opening speech. It didn't take long for the four to realize this Baron Arthur Von Kleist. As he continued his speech about how he found the woman who is supposedly Anastasia. Blake's eyes begin to move about in boredom. As this feels less about restoring a monarchy and more of a ploy for the Baron to extend his own status.
As her eyes wonder she suddenly spots a familiar figure. From yesterday that pudgy man in the military style uniform with the riding crop under his arm. He seemed to have made himself comfortable amongst the upper class in the room. Blake couldn't help but stare at him with à slowly brooding rage. A man she knows has intimated, assaulted, and killed men, women, and children, personally, all to push his political enemies into a frenzy just so he can use it as an excuse to put them down as an uprising. Ugh… what she would do to such a man given the chance… perhaps she use that riding crop of his like he does to a̷͚̯̟̯̠͌̒̇l̷͍̬͙͔͉͉̣̮̥͓̤̫̄̐̾̀̒͌͌͜͠͠l̶̜̪̤̤̫̼̻͕̫̰͍͋̓͆͌̔͛̆̑͛̃̆͜ ̵̛͇̇͌̈́̂̍̌͂̊̅͊̽͌͌̃͝t̶̳̲͎̼̺̬̂͆̐̏̐̈́̀̀̄̋̑͘ͅḩ̵͙͉͕̯̣͚͚̮̥͔̟̮͚̞͕̇̐̉̿̀̀̓̀̂͑̅́͋ę̷̛͖̟͕̦͙͈̤̦͓̮̰͈͕͔̘͗̓̋͒̾̋̒́͘͠ ̢͇̠̲̟̞̥̻̮̭̩͉ẅ̴̧̜̙̜̫͖͙̗͈́̃̈͂̔͆̒̾̄̎̀̏̉͋̔͜h̶̛͇̱̍͌̈́̍̋̊͆̄̏̂͝o̴̬̮͉͂̒̍̒̊̏̔̍͆̎͆̐̏̓r̛̮͈̻̹̗̠̆͑̏́̎̏̓̒͛̇̓͆͘e̳̝s̴͍͖͑͑͌͛̎̂̌̉̈́̊̆̎͑͛̚̕. ̵͔̠̝̭̪͓̞̮͙̺̝̣̼̉̄͘͝Š̶̨͎̜̱̤̓̄̐̊͊͝͝ḽ̶͈̪̦̘̦͎͕̖̜͍̔̈́̈͛͊̂͑͘ą̵̹̭͚͍͇̪̰͕̠͙̋̌̈́̄̃̓̈́̄̌͊̔̽p̶̬͕͍̳̹̹̭͚̫̬̃̀͜ ̴̡̛̜̰̬͚͉͓̳̠̹̥̮͍̼͔͋̈́̄̇̒̍̅͊́̆͘͝ḧ̴̩͇̤̖̘̞̰͚̙͚̮͉͈̼́̽͒͜ͅì̶͇̘̘̗̼͎̥̤͎̞̟̓͊͊͆̄̽̀̂̏̃͝m̵̢̧̭͎̳͈̞̱̦̹͕̘͍͉͖̾̐̉̚͝ ̶̧̨̨̛̺̳̝̤̥̱͉̫̠̣̜̣̟͑̓́̀a̴̡̖̭̹̗͖͈̯͎̙͚͖̣̽̏͝ŗ̷̬̳̳̫̯͖̼͇̙̺̘̜̞͖̉͋̂͐̍́́́̎͐̉͗̃́͠ō̷̧̦̗͎͇̪̼̱͍͚̼̟̫̣͂́͆u̵̢̗͈͕͓̱̥̘͙̯̜̯̗̅̔̂nd̷̲͓̙̲̬̯̏̆͝,̴̡̳̪̺̦̻̰̫̯̹̓̈̅̈̓̂͂̿̏͒̌͑̕̚̕ ̴̡̛̰̞̺̖͎̳̝̣͗̓́́̀̀̂͝ư̵̞̘͖̗͉̏͊̌͋͂͋̾̃̌̕n̷̡͚̱̣̟̜͖̤̭̲̻̰̓́͌̔̓͗ț͓̲̭̭̙̭͚ǐ̴̢̨̨̟̺̯͈̲͖̜̠̀̓̽̋̊͊̚l̻̯̆ͅ ̴̡̛̛͚̱͓͖͉̦͗̓̐̈̆̇̎́̋͛͘͘͠h̢̳̮̩͙̣̪̝i̶̡̛͕̹̻͓̻̺̼̖͋̃̌̀̒͑̓̂̌̕ṣ̶̫͕̟̰͉͕̆̑̒͊͋̇̃̉̒̔̾̕̚͘͝ ̷̧̡̢̡̮̗͎̰͚͙͚͎̘̼̈́̈́͛̔̿͌͌̒́̌̓̂̌̄͝á̴̜̠̻̟̯̻̫͖̲̭̤͙ṣ̀̈́͒̇͊ş̶̧͇̖̖̘̞̖͔͙̮̩̱́͊́͑̽̾ ̡̜̦̥̰̺̼̺̝̭͇̹̦̖̫͚́i̷̯̭̟͖͍̫̗̞̒̑̿̍̉͗s̶̠͆̐͌̎̽͌̇͛͛̓̈͌̏́͝͝ b̶̨̨̘̘͍̥͈̲͖̳̳̬̝͉̞̏̽̍͛͑̿̽͝ͅl̴̯͋̏̅̇̈͂͒͊̉͘͝e̴̗͎͈͒̇̒͐̀ë̵̢̛̛̜̜̰̔͑̈́̀̓͆̊̌̔̏̈͗̚ḑ̵͍̘̞̲̫͎͚̫̲̗̓̓̈́̽̓̕͠ĩ͉̪͙̥̬̫̯̙̰͔̀̓̾̅͊͆̀̒̾̑͑͆̿̕͜ͅͅn̷̢̧̡̠̮̬̖͙͖͕̲̳̄̈̕̕͜͝g̶̨̧̱̯̰̣̜͚͔̥̹͌.̵͇̥̤̙̒̓̓̃͋͗̀́͒ ̶̠̭̾͛̊͋̈̈́̓̔͆͊̽̄͠F̡̼̲̳̰̬̤̥̲͓̌̒͜͝ͅó̡̢̨̝̹̗͕̘͖͍̮̙̜̹̬͊͜r̷̛̙͔̙̱͈̬̳͕͓̦͚̅̉̒̋̀͛̉͒͘̚̕͘͝͝ͅc̴͎̮͈̺͓̜̼̠̪̫̮̈̓́̀̐̈́͐͒̾͒͂̇̂̾̀̓͜͜ͅe̴̡̧̧͚̣̙̳̭̤̣̯̤̼͎̾̈́̏̈́̿̈̐̕͜͝ ̴̧͉̟̰̥̯̖̮̩̹̰̱̰͚̹͇̃͝h̵̢̨̫͕̤̩͙͍̝̖͙̳̠̋̑̔̀̈́̆͠͝ͅḭ̵̹͈͉͈̩̩̟͔͍̗̥͕̻̼͚̒͂̎́̚m̷̨̧̛̲̫̣͓̻̠̣͙̗̻̥̥̓̋̒̈̔̇̑̈͘͜ ̷̧̢̮̟̣̦̪̜̜̲̝̮̜͍̀͐̽̏̍̍̐̓͊̉̅͝͝t̶̡̨͈̣̬͇͔̫̣̝̘̼̲̿̇͗̀͒̋̌̍̔̾͊͝͝͝o̵͙̥̓̉̎͒͋͑͂͘͘ ̷̨̧̩̮̾̒̂̈́ẅ̴͉̱́͐͌̌͝a̶̢̠͛͑͛̓̄̽̕͠l̴̨̗̙̻̥̗͛k̷̝͕͍̟̲̙̝͈̘̫̓͐͝ͅ ̶̫͈̼̩̱͈̥̰̹̳͊̋̓͌͐̿̑͒͋̕̕͝ô̷̢̡̡̤̾͛̽̒̿͑̿̉̄̓͊̐̚ͅṉ̴̛̛̤͔̩̻̙̲̲̩̩̲̓̿̏̃͆̌̀̑̾̀̆̕͘͠ ̵̢̧̡͍̯̰̪͌̏̃̉̒͆a̧̢̦̱̭̰̹͔͍̹̗̳̺l̶̛̤͚̣͔͙̪̤̺̑̏̈́̋̀̏̋̊̽̔͝l̨̨̝̪͇̯̹̲̣̰̬̉̃̇͋̕͜ ̨̨͙̮̪̹̦͈͓͔̜̘̘̉̂̈́̾͑͐̌̀̽͋ͅf̷̢̛̜̮̮͍̤͙̯͍̤̤̘͍̤͚̉̌͋̊̽͐ͅǫ̵̡̠̼͚̫̼̺̥̱̳̬̞͑̌̏͐̇̈́̆̓̅̀͂̆̓̚͠u̷̡̧̧͓̙̖̗̦͉̣̯̎͐́̈́̑r̵̢̡̡̲̦͚͉̦̪̻̻͚̪̝̞̬̅͌͂̽͐̈́͋̐̕͠͝s̴̨̧̧͖̲̞̝̠̥̫̫̤͚̣͙͑̈́͆͌̂̑͆̾͆̿̀̚̚͝ ̴̛̥̫̟̗̣͓̙̭͎̤̤͑̌́͐̊̅͜͝͝ļ̷̱̟̲̣̙͓͕̣̅î̷̡̖͒̀̉͗̈́̄̉̈̅͐̍͋̊̀͠ǩ̴̡̨̨̧̧̭̳̦͕̲͙̪̠̯̯̥̊̔͒̓͗͌̔̑͆̏ë̡̙̩̙͉̦̣͚͍ ̷̡̧̛̣̠̦͓͚̹͙̤̰̲̟͖̳̃̂̒̑̓́͋̌͘t̴̖̰̝̩͚̝̠̟̺̥͇̍̑̀̎͘͠ḩ̶̡̨̢̦̹̖̜̫̠̙̝̹͉͙͗̾̋̌̇̾̎e̷̢̢̨̺͎̫̬̺̞̘̦̓̀͛̋̃͌̑̀͘ ̷̧̢̧̤͈̳̜͍̹̗̻̻͉̝̞̈p̷̛͚̘̣̉̽͊̌͌̅̌̐͒͛̚̚͠ǐ̵̪͎̤͔͓̑̈́̂͂̑̈̈́́̕̕͜g̶̖͍̝̃̾.̢̛̫̳̤͍̙̪̣̼͔̗̹̟̈͂̉͛̍̽͂͆͆̾̀͘͠ͅ ̶̗̞͔̜̬̍͆̎́̓͊̕̚̚M̷̧̨̛͕̘͇̰̻̜͔͌̒͗̿̀̒̅̈́̒́̈́̽̆̔̍͜ͅá̶̡̘̻̻̮̰͉̔̈̑̕͝ÿ̵̨̪̲̼̲̱̞̗́̔b͇̙̺͖͉̜é̵̮̪̜̂̂̈́̿ ̶̰̬̈́̾͘̕͝ȇ̶̢̻̙̳̖̩̣̖̠̤̳̼̼̏̋͜ͅv̷͚̭̰̻̺̽̌ę̨̙̯̙͍̭͔̹͚̻̙͎̪̠̈̎͑͛̑̾͜ņ̵̰͉̫͎̯͗̀̃̽͂́̓̆͛͛̒̽͘̕ ̲̲̞͙͚̈͊̑̉̆́̈̾́́ś̵̙̍̈́̊̍͆́̑̏̽̏̊̄̂̑̕t̴̨̝̗̫͓̮̣̫̦̳͙̼̖͑̔̿̈́ï̧͍̳͕̤̦̝͚̘͓͇̥̂̍̓̅̊̒̈̀͘c̴̛̘̞̮̯̹͒̑̀̐̈́͑͜͝k̵̟̅̊̓̏́̅̈́̇̅̉͆̎̾͠͝͠ ̵̧̫͈̳̟̲̝̥̦̬͚̹̖̏͒̒̀̿h͇̟͕͓͔̘͇͈i̷̢̮̣̮͕̰̳͈͙͎̿̀̍̂̈́̚͘͘͝ͅm̶̧̝͙̙͙̦̱̤͓̪̪̭̤̬̭͔̅̍̈̂̂͑̍͆͘͝ ̷̨̨̜̦͉͍̰͇̬͓̥̹͊͑ļ̵̧̳̬͓͎̩̖̻̣̤̣̤̫̇͛͌͊̊̎͜͝ͅi̷̢͔̘̜̻̫̗͚̙̗͚͕̻̔̎̚ͅk̷̜̘̟̳̻̮͙̙̣̩̯͈͇̹͐̌̈̔ẹ̞ͅ ǫ̵̳̹͈͍̗͂̈́͐̑͌̀̃̓̔̀̚n̷̢̮̩̠̜̿̓̈̉̈̓̀͛̈́̆̚ê̵̢̨̝̙̮͖̳͇͉̟̰̤̗͖̅̏͌̒̓̈̿́̒̽̒͋͘͜͠.̶͉̟͉̫̘̳͕͓̬̱̈́̊̋̾̉̾͛̔ ̶̡̢̨̟̗̳̗͇̤̥͌̄͛͂̀̄̀̇̚ͅH̵̨̖̹̳̺̦͚͈̳̮̒̋́͌̄̈̐̃̚͜͠é̴̠̐̂͗̒̿͝ ̷̯̻̥̜̬̊̿̉̂̓͛̎̌͗̓a̷̼̗͉̮̲̮͔̟̦͍͓͈̾̈́̽́͑̈̂̀͠l̵̩̖͙͔͕̪̍̎̇͒̀̈́́̈̕̕͠ẇ̷͖̙̓͑̈́̀͊̈́͌̿̽̇̕͝a̶̛͖͉͊̆̃ỵ̴̛̬̪̘͒͌̋͂̐͂͝͝ş̣̺̝̜̜̹̰͔͚̞ ̷̨̨̛̳͖̬͉̦͉̰͈̋̓͆̅̉̽͋͘̚͜͠h̵̢̩͕̼͇̳̦̞͇̱̭̋͛͛̔̀̆̑̊́̎̚͝á̢̢͍͖̻̺̯͕̘͕͙̼̯̞̞̏̑̓̈͌̏̈́͜͝ḑ̵̨͓͚͎̫͇͇̩͈̱̼̅̄́̂̎̉̏̓̄̅̑̉̍́̕ ̶̛̩̈́̇̌̃̋̀̑̾̈́͝͝a̢̖̥̖̘̯̣̫͇̋͋̀̊̊̃̿͘͠n ̴̡̻͉̣͖͕̠̟̥̗̾̄̇̿̉̕ͅã̴̩̗͕̥͕͔̤̠̠̈́̄͝n̵̫̖͙̩̣̳͚͈͆̀́͛͒̆̑̉͆̓͑̕̚͜͝ņ̷̢͕̬̦̩͕͎̥̖̜̗̤̽̉̀̍̅̈̎̀̃̕͝o̵͉̲̮͎͙̭͈̟̩͇̯̤̟̓̊̄̔͂̑̓̍̅̊̌͘̕y̴͍̳̬̒̿̿͠i̴̛͙͎̦̖̬͚̓̿̈͗̐̈́̈́ņ̷̣̯̜̮̦̯̩̣́̈̃͐̒̓̌̽͆͒̎̌̈́̍̇͝g̵̢̨̖̖̠̫̼̖̭̱̻͋̐̓͋͑̎̽͐͊̀̿͜ ̷͔̰͍̪̤͕̰̤͈̥̭̠̪͕̜͍̓͑̑͆͋̽̈͆͝võ̢̩͕̗̹͍̻̙͔̖̀́̀̊ͅi̷̦͓͎͌̎̍ć̡̱̜͉̰̼̩̰̠̩̼̱̺͔͎̬͑̓́́̍̇̔̍̒e̡̧̠̦̩̮̼̤̥̥͕͇̰̝͕̋̆͒ ̶̡̣̰̞̥̤̂̀ḯ̷̻̲̳͎̈́̆͌͊́̋̈́̈̈̚͠t̴̡̡̻͕̬̱͇̪̝͌̍̃͛͑́̆́̑̀́̓̕͜͝ ̵̼̜͎̗̙̰̝̥̟̺̟͖͊̆͊̈́͗̓̽͑͛͒̀̅̃̈́͐̕m̴̧͙͓͋̀̈́̀̀̎̈́̿̓̿̐͘͝͠͝͝i̷͓̭̐͐̅̅̍͒̋̀̕g̶̛̠̩͔̬̑͒̆͗̈̓͛̋̿̓̅̿͘͜͝h̛̥̟̝̹̗̘̞̘͎́̄̀̆̆̓͗̍̋̀̇̀͘͠t̵̼̯̱̤̳̯͛͗̎̓̌̎̋̕͠͝͝ ̵̢̞͕̠̘͉͍̄͌͊̓͗̚b̵̛̫̗̹͙̖͇̠͓̤̎̀̒̽͒e̶̗̹̺͎̗̞͑̓̓͑̽̊̒̋͌̄̄̈́͐͂ ̷̜̓́̒͝n̶̨͉̪̻͇̞̠͙̳̞̤̥̯̈́́̀a̴̧͎̤̟͖̮̯̋͗̾̑̽͘ͅͅȋ̶̛̳̝͇͚̎͐̀̚͠l̷̢͔̘̼͚͎̤̜̣͓̲̤̘͇͋͌̈́̿̇͊͆̐̊͋̀͌̀͘s̢̨̺͇̩̹̜̟̺̺̗͖͇̟̱̋̈́̈́̽͊̊ͅ ̷̡̢̛͈̠̜̜̹̣̲́̾́͆͜o̵̰͕͙̎̐͆̏̏̔̄̌̉́̉̆͝n̵̙̪̳̙̂̃̉́̂̀̇̉̕ ̴̪̲̜̟̭̦̱̰͔̜̬͉̰̃͛͐͆͋̀̑̿͛̈́̍̅̐̅͘̕ͅă̳̪̬͍̙̝̆̊͐̀̀͌ ̡̡͙̣͙͉̻̞̉́̉͛̿͛͆c̴̙̤͉͐̿̈́̊̓́͑͛̀̎̊͒͠h̶̯̼͎͓̭̜̲͔̰͎̦̥̭̱̭͑̎̈́͂̀̋͒̉͆̔̈́̐̍̕͘͘ą̤̮̤̠̩̭̬̥̂̇̂̀̔͂̾͗͒̋̽͘l̷̠͚͓̘͔̟̜̃̓̈́́̌͗̈̈́̋͠k̵̡͇̥͓̻̲̄̂̈̀̀̒̾̍̓̊̌̎̕͝͝ ̵̖̻͎͔͆͋̅́̔̐͂͒̆͋̕͘͝ḇ̴̧̍́̐̈́͌́ơ̵̼̮̗̬͍̝͚̜̬̙̺̤̙̺̠̮͆͆̓̍͐̇̌̏a̵̢͉͇͈̩͖̎̅̇̃̄̒͗̐̌̋̕̚͜r̶̭͍̤̠̠̝̳̯̮̮̻̍͊̎̇̕͜͠ͅd̗͎̉͆̏̅͂ ̵̞͖͓͙͚͖̳̩̪̪̯̞͍̣͆̀̈́̏w̵̡̏̉̎̐͗̿̽͐̋͐͂͑̕͝ḩ̵͕̟̥͍̰̤̜̟͎̥̺̠̤̾͛͜ͅę̣̩̫̠̞͉̬͇̘̻n̵̩͕̾͆̄̆̈́͑́ ̵͍̠̘̞̟̩̩̤̤͖͓̟̪̮͐̽̊͒̚͜͠h̵̗͚̥̦̖̙̪̯̲̝̝̦̯͍̘̉̂̇͝ͅe̷͓͔͈̳̟̘͇͆́̽̊̔͛̚ ̝̂̊̓̀͆̓͑̆̔͂͑͘ş̶̨̳̜́̿̐͊̇̈̍̒̅̍̚̕͜͝c̵̛̤͉̀̀̈́̏͒̐̎͛͌̚̚͜͠ṟ̵̝̭͈̇̐̾̅̎͒̈́̕̕ͅḙ̬̗̆̿͐̈́́́́a̷͙̋̌͒̈̀̔̔̉̿̀͐͆̀̈́̕͝mš̛̳̬̤̥͑̓̄̓̾̀̐̈́̆̀͌̄͗ ̵̡̢̡̧̯̤̩̭̯̫͉̣̟̥̎͗̐̎̏̑͐̑̀̚b̘͓̳̙̰̬͍͈̳̖̣́̈̈̃̈́͘u̷̠͎͔͚̰̔̊͐̂̎͐̈̿͛͊̇̆͠͝͠ẗ̴̲͕͉̺̦́̊̆ͅ ̴̛̞̮̉̋̓͛̃̈́ỏ̙̯͖̦͔̤̟̌́͌͊͐̅̈́̌̓͑͘͘h̶̭͖̤͓̔̐͆͋̑̀̈́̽̃͂̒̕ ̧̛̝͚̭̪͇̝̞̗̻͕̪̺̦̃͋͊̋̾͊͘͝ẁ̴̹̫͍̜̤̗͎̫͔͈̋į̶̳̬̗̮̻͙̯̖̖̳̙͍̓́̾̃̔͘ͅl̴̲̙̼̺̖̭̬̮̄̌̀̔̉̍͝͝ļ̴̛̠̼̫̝̫̯̰̒̅̆̈̂́̉̇͒̕̚͝ ̵̛̻̼̤͇͈͖̫̈̂̈́͛̐͘͝t̵͕̺̝̮̙̖̞̅̒̀̍͆̆̈́̽͛̓̋͒̈́̎͜h̶̢̯̯̮̘̻͕̙̪̲̳̹͓̞̔̅͜͝ͅa̵͔̝͉̺̪̼̣̩̓̈́̅̂ͅt̶̢̤̠̫̻̜̣͙̗̪̥͒̿̐̒͊͛͊́̔̅̑͌͘͠͝ ̴̨̣͖̰̯̥͉̞͚͖̰̖̈́̓̄̑̈́͂̓̑͂̾͛̈́̄͘ͅs̷͔͇̼̎́̆̈́͑̈́̋̎͗̓̅̊͊̚͝l̴̨̪͖̝͍̙̗̋͐̉́ű̳̙̪͉̿̑̏͂̚t̵̢̪̹̱͎̲͐͐̄͌ ̷̨̳̼͍̹̳̱̖̊̏̑̓͒͊̌́͂̽͠͠͝ş̶̭̖̒̌̎̑̿͌͂͛̊̄́ç̶̻͎̮̺͓͉͆͊̔̆̽̈́͋ͅͅr̶̡̧̛̦̣͔͕͎͉̼̳̬̫̃̍̽̽̋͐̆̔̃̀͒͐̀̚̚eâ̷̧̧̡̬͓͎͖̟͔̞͖̼̄̃͆͛̈́̀͘̚͘m̷̛̝̘̜̓͆̿̾̌̾̐̎͐̿͌̆ ̣͍̫͓̃̄̀͜w̷̖͛̄̓̉͐̍̍͌̑͂̕ẖ̶̛̳̩̏͐̍̊͐̈́͌̚ė̶͈̚n ̵̢̮̦̠̖̘̦̙̦͌́̀̃̔̾s̶̨̰̘̳̟̳͈̣̓h̵̡̡̟͍͎̱̣̗͔̹̖͎̗̟͓̑͒ê̶̛̺͒̅͑̐̈́̈́͂̒̓͋̍…̷̟̯̻̜̘͙͗̃̇́̎̇͑̐͗̏͘
Blake grabs her head in anguish. For a moment she did not know where she was going but after realizing what she was thinking about. She staggers around as if she suddenly came down with vertigo. As she stumbles about someone grabbed ahold of her for support. A familiar voice can be heard behind her.
"You alright Sister?" a familiar voice spoke up. Looking behind her as her faintness slowly dissipated Blake was surprise to see Detective Hooker.
"Detective Hooker? The feck you doing here?" FEB asked as he was a little surprise. But before they could finish they heard the Barron clearing his throat.
"Ich werde jetzt select a Handvoll of people to visit at time. Sie ist mmer noch weak and there are bolschewistische Schleime everywhere. So I must be wählerisch in wenn ich mit ihr sehe." He said as he looked over the crowd. All waiting hoping to be picked. As he begins picking, one by one, Blakes ears begin to twitch as she heard a faint whisper. Looking over she see's Ren muttering something incoherent.
"l' mgr'luh ya aimgr'luhh. Llll soth l' nog ymg'. Ymg' ephaiselect c', h' mgr'luh ph'nglui ymg' lloigg nwnglui" He hushes as he stares into the Barons eyes. His attention drew on the group and almost tiredly selected Ren, Blake and Detective Hooker. He then shakes his head before ending the choice. As the crowd returns to the tables FEB simply gave a small shrug before turning to Blake.
"Huh… have fun meeting the princess." FEB said as pat's Blakes shoulder before he turns Olof. "Oy, Sweed want to get a drink?"
"Um, if I said no will you not drink?" Olof asked as FEB takes Olof to the bar.
"Fuck no." FEB said as he drags Olof to the bar. Leaving the three to enter the Princes room.
As they slowly follow the group, the three got to chatting. Blake quickly wrote down on her paper trying to ask Ren about what he was whispering but she was sideline by that as Ren was now talking with Detective Hooker. "So, why are you here Detective?"
"Well, when the news about the princess got out this morning, the head of the Berlin agency, Fynn Kästner asked me to check. Seems the agency had connections with the Romonovs at some point and they wish to see if the princess remembers Blackwood." Detective Hooker explains with a shrug.
"I see. What business did your agency have with the Princess?" Blake quickly wrote before showing it to Detective Hooker.
"No idea but it's more then likely classified." Detective Hooker said with a shrug. "Sides even if I did I wouldn't get your hopes up. I never did liked them royal families. Call it as you see but where I come from we spilled blood to remove the chains of the monarchy nearly a century and a half ago. Don't see why we spend a day in their courts kissing their Russian asses like some foot stool. Sides imagine what kind of inbreeding these families have. The King of England, The Kaiser, and the Tsar were all cousins that's how close they are. Can you imagine what kind of inbreeding this royal b…"
Before Detective Hooker could finish his anti-royal rant about the monarchy, the group had entered the room, The Barron then introduced in a loud voice, "Ich give you, Großfürstin von Russland Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov."
Pointing to the bed, a single beautiful strawberry blonde sat on it in her night gown. She had some scars on her shoulder that looked like bite marks. As she looked on Detective Hooker's jaw nearly dropped at the sight of her beauty. His words slowly passed through his lips with a stunned look of aw at her magnificent enchanting appearance. "b… b… beautiful."
He was nearly drooling at her beauty but managed to pull himself together. "Um eh hum. Sorry. Um like I said. I see no reason why our agency works with the Tsar's."
"Rrrrright." Ren says sarcastically with a knowing look. As Detective Hooker tries to reassert himself Blake stares at the woman on the bed.
This Franziska Schamzkovkas is the supposed Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov, the princess of Russia. Blake ignored the two bickering right behind and tried to listened in on the woman's story. In a heavy accent voice Blake struggled to listen and understood the Grand Duchess heart wrenching story about how she came to Berlin. Her family executed by drunk Communists who feared that the advancing white army would rescue them. A kind Soviet hid her before her family was executed within the Ipatiev Merchant House. She took on the last name Schamzkovkas as it was the name of her rescuer. For two years she pretended to be the Soviets wife till the Spanish Plague killed him back in 20. Fleeing Russia to Poland she nearly settled down when the Polish Russian war began. Realizing what would happen should they ever catch her she needed to put as much space between her and her homeland. Wanting to break for Paris or England she found herself stuck in Berlin. Hungry and with no way to survive she sold herself for food and money. She didn't elaborate on her experience but ended that she snapped from this and tried to commit suicide only to be saved and sent to Dalldorf Asylum. She would have nearly rotted away was she not found. As she talks about the Barons kindness Blake couldn't help but feel that this was tacked on to make the Baron look good. As she continues praising the Baron, Blake was suddenly overcome by another migraine. She held her head as the sound of what can be described as loose wheels, the kind that gives off a high squeak noise due to loose wheel. It echoed loudly inside her head as she struggled to keep her faunas ears from showing.
Just then it goes silent as she hears the sound from behind her. Turning around she see's a small and slightly pudge maid pushing a cart with cakes and teas towards the Bed. As she approaches with a blank stare. The middle age woman's face turns from a solemn professional to a wicked grin. That's when Anastasia turned to her. Her calm tone changed to utter panic as she screams and points towards the maid with terror.
"Эти глаза! эти глаза! я помню твои глаза... Großmann!" Anastasia screams out as she points to the Maid.
The maid smile grew wider with eyes glairing with a radiance of a child predator. The maid pushes over the cart and retrieves a large knife as the cart crashes against a lamp. That's when the maid spoke. It was not normal, it was multitone and had a voice that sounded hideous. "Wenn es also nicht Miss Sosnovski ist. Wir haben noch unerledigte Geschäfte, Hure." (So if it isn't Miss Sosnovski. We have unfinished business, whore.)
Blake remain frozen with her eyes fixated on the wall in horror as the Maid passed her with that knife at the ready. As she raced past the crowd remain frozen in fear with nobody moving from either shock or cowardice. As she moves to Slash, Ren quickly intervenes only for the strangely small and pudge maid to push him out of the way with incredible strength. She lunges at the duchess when Detective Hooker pulls her away, only for a lock of her hair to fall from her head.
Anastasia lands on Detective Hooker as they both collapse to the ground. The Maid quickly finding her footing on the bed turns to them with that knife in her hand. Ready to pounce when Ren pulled her off the bed and slammed her onto the ground. as she hits the ground the Barons personal guards rush in to apprehend the maid. Taking her into Custody she swore all kinds of obscenities before going limp. Passed out for only a few moments she wakes up to find herself being pulled out of the room. She asking repeatedly what is going on as if she didn't remember what had just happened.
The room goes silent as everyone is still reeling from the shock. Anastasia was seen whimpering in fear and horror in her savior's arms. As Ren looked around, he see's Blake and was somewhat curious. Blake could have stopped the killer. She was trained to overcome the shock of a sudden surprise attack so why didn't she? What Ren didn't know, was that Blake saw the maids Shadow. It wasn't her shadow, no… it was long, and lengthy. With accordion like arms that stretched and swirled like tendrils. A banana shaped head that gave a devilish like feature, all with those hollow eyes as those the light wasn't reflecting them. The sight shocked Blake as that shadow disappeared as soon as the maid went limp.
It was like the castle, back in Scotland. Memories of her time under the witch's influence resurfaced as terror not seen since meeting Adam during the fall of Beacon. It was not a pleasant experience being possessed and she dreads to think, if that maid was possessed…. Who will be next?
Inside Wombags Studio… backroom
The scene opens up within the backroom of the studio. The camera shakes as cast and crew raced around, grabbing furniture and props to block the door. As they struggled a loud crash came at the door.
"Come on! She's breaking in!" qwertymalcolm67 shouts as he presses a chair against the door with his back.
"Forget it! Game over man, GAME OVER!" TunnelBoy shouts as he looks for a way to escape but found none. Beside him Jaykeloid is scene trying to break nearby iron bars on a window with the only gun he still had left. Much to his frustration and Tunnelboy's it did not work.
"Can it man! I ain't dying like this! I'm either dying saving a President or I ain't ever going to DIE!" U.S Napalm shouts as he presses a Box full of costumes against the door.
As more cast and crews rush to hold the door close, the camera is pulled to the side to reveal Wombag, his usual tie and vest was torn with his tie loosely hanging around his neck… or at least what's left of it since he cut it to escape. "Hello everybody, Wombag here. So um last chapter didn't go well with Nora. And this one made her pissed. So while me and a few of the cast and crew are trying to keep her from strangling the woman playing as Anita Berber I'll have to be quick before she…"
Suddenly Dmandog056 was pushed into the Camera but quickly gets up to rush to the door, all while Nora can be heard screaming rage from the other side of the door. "WHERE IS SHE! I JUST WANT TO TALK TO THAT SKANK… REPEATEDLY… WITH MY GUNS!"
"Um, well… before she breaks down the door to talk to us… for a long time… repeatedly… with her hammer. I'll go over your question and comments. Hopefully I can answer them all before she breaks down the door. So with that in mind, let's be quick and hopefully I can keep upcoming multiple medical leave to a minimum, heh heh.. um…"
He then pauses as he pulls out his letters of questions before addressing each one as Nora bashes at the door in the background. Pulling out the first one he reads the follow aloud.
From Fastestguninthewesr: "The only thing worse than a Bolshevik is a German one, and the only thing worse than the average German is the average German cabaret. - Detective Joseph Hooker"
Astute choice of words, by chance you have another?
Thanks for writing Fastestguninthewesr
From Black Cross0: And then some more, but I'm doubtful Weimar Berlin is as good as Reich, trust me she will be living a Ninjas of Love Hentai picture addition staring Kali Milf 2.0. Only for the weight of ww2 to come after all that.
Yeah…. Luckily…
They will. It is… inev-inev-inev-inev-inevitable. (Can never say that word the first time.)
Um… um… depends. How much is to much? (With Berber. If not doing copious amounts of drugs in a Bi-Sexual orgy from dusk to dawn only to stop and eat food on a body fetish table isn't your limit… then brother your in for a treat.)
Oh he does but like doctor strange he can't say or else it will fail
Let's see, Ruby arrived in New Year's Day 1920 (making her as of 1926 23 years old) Weiss Arrived April 30th 1921 (making her 24 years old… and still smaller tits then Ruby) Blake arrived June 24 1924 (Making her 21 years old as of currently) Yang arrived July 3 1924 (Making her 22 years old but she doesn't know that) Jaune arrived April 23 1923 (So if Miles hinting is correct he would be 22 if not 23 years old.) Nora arrived December 1922 (Nora has no confirmed birthday so she's either 23 or 22 years old) Ren arrived January 4th 1923 (April 1st meaning he should be 23 years old but his mind has wandered for so long he might as well be 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,0023 years and counting) As to how they look check out my Deviant art account under the same name as my FF account name and give or take a year or so. I am currently commissioning art work but currently there is only Yang and Schmidt posted. (I received FEB, Blake, Jobert, and Nora but won't be posting till the comic is completely posted)
Honestly… my heart sank when Ruby sipped that tea. Not just because she effectively committed suicide but also because I am a big tea drinker. The horror alone... that I can't drink my earl grey without thinking it will kill me.
Honestly not much. Figure he'd end up in the story book somehow… I'm more waiting for him and Ruby to fuck and get it over with. Specially after that scene where they were arguing.
Well wait no longer.
Thanks for writing Black Cross0
From Crimson Weresloth: I think they have bigger problems then Anita's groupies
Thanks for writing Crimson Weresloth.
From Carre: 1A. No problem.
1B. I never been to Berlin either but odds are I'd go alone or with a group of friends. Mostly because of the legal brothels. (Look away MA!)
2A. Heh funny. Well, thank god us Yanks don't speak German… else we have another god damn desert storm. (Inner American radar going off the chart at the mention of oil.)
2B. Dear lord…. It's just beer… a simple right hook that his own mother would feel would do.
2C. Yep… they actually recently found her bones, I think in 2007
2D. Cash is king
2E. Yep… He's in Berlin looking for his son, sadly it seems he will be moving on… to Russia. Hopefully this chapter answers those questions… and ask several more questions.
2F. It's actually A real book. And yes. Slaaneesh has nothing on the author. (No really. Just ask for head and she will give you her twat instead)
2G. Trust me… nothing your head in the gutter can think of can compare to Anita Berber's sex life. She is famous for sleeping with half of Europe. And I do mean half. She plays for both teams.
2H. Thanks. Now enjoy the brothels. They are mostly legal.
3. Danka.
Thanks for writing Carre
From Guest: I'd love to have that, sounds epic already, but unless you know someone who does this for fun sadly their will be no voice lines.
Thanks for writing Guest
"Alright. Now with that out of the way, what horrors await Ren and Blake. Will Olof survive to find his son? Will FEB get his hands on Space mead? FAV, FOl, and leave a comment down below and find out next time. This is Wombag1786 sig… (Loud crashing sound)"
Suddenly before he could finish, the doors burst open and qwertymalcolm67 along with U.S Napalm was sent flying back with a Wilhem scream asin steps Nora. With red eye of pure rage as Doom Slayer metal plays in the background. Crimson trying to stop has his arms around Nora's waist as his heels dig into the ground, he growls as he yells. "Jesus Fucking Christ! How are you still this fucking strong!"
She responded by giving him a hard backhand punch that sent him the ground with a huge bloody nose. She turned to Wombag who she personally blamed since he wrote the script, though that doesn't mean she won't stop at just him. Everyone present is going to pay.
"Oh god! She's inside! Run run for the love of your Knees RUN!" Wombag screams before he is hit by Nora's Magnild into the camera as the scream turns to a technical difficulty.