Apping to thewake, now that the logistics of that have been sorted out

[ehrenvoll]

You have two days to write an application, you don't know where you want to take me from in my story, and you owe tags on your other character there.

[He pauses, contemplative.]

I have every confidence you can do it. In fact, I'm fairly certain you don't even need my encouragement to do so. It's the thought of that second part that has me a bit uneasy. Waking up a world away from home will be disconcerting enough without you picking a low point in my life to go from. Regardless, though, you really don't have much time to make that decision, so I'd suggest getting to work if you want me to make it in this round.

Comments

[waypastasking]

[Cap grins at him]

Congratulations! Good for you. I am proud of you!

[ehrenvoll]

I would hold the congratulations until I'm in, Herr Steve.

[waypastasking]

I will do that, but I have faith in you.

[ehrenvoll]

My mun's still slaving over the application. He plans to take me from the end of my canon, which... is less than ideal.

Does your mun have any plans for you?

[waypastasking]

I see..... I'm sorry?

My Mun would like to find a game for me, but so far has been unsuccessful

[ehrenvoll]

I know it's wishful thinking, but I'd like to be taken from a time before I donned this uniform. Back when the world made sense.

Someone posted another you on the Test Drive meme for the Wake, but my mun's not sure they applied. If they didn't, then you could always come there. It's an interesting enough concept and not as dark as most of the ideas my mun had in mind.

[waypastasking]

My mun has thought about it, but she really doesn't know anything about the Wake.

[ehrenvoll]

It's a city we wake up in where willpower can forge things into existence. We're there to learn and grow as people, master that power, and eventually get to the point where we can go fix other worlds with said power. All the while time stands still back home.

...I like the idea of being able to do good there. Maybe I can make a difference for once. It's worth a try.

[waypastasking]

My mun saw that there was another me in thee reservations though, so that means I am still homeless. It sounds like a fun game though, and she does miss playing in a game terribly.

[ehrenvoll]

If he's a no-show, you could still have an opening. It would be interesting to have you there. At least then I wouldn't be the only one from the '40's in the city.

Although, if your mun is interested, mine would like to still have us meet on memes and such. I wouldn't trust his intentions, though. [Philip sees the shipping gleam in his mun's eye and fears it appropriately, even if said mun has never played out a single ship in four years of RPing.]

[waypastasking]

My mun will have to wait till the 9th to find out I suppose.

The meme thing sounds fun, but I am new to Dreamwidth, but not to RPing. My mun has been playing characters from TV and movies for 3 or 4 years.

[Steve smiles slightly. He is always open to getting to know someone better, unless its Red Face of course.]

[ehrenvoll]

Well, there's always memes over on bakerstreet. We could look through the ones up there now, see what catches our eyes, yes?

My mun has been playing over on LiveJournal for four years. Then he made the switch, and although he swore he wouldn't, he's given in and made a few journals for some obscure characters he likes. And thus I now dwell in obscurity. There's a reason it took so long to negotiate my application chances for the Wake.

[waypastasking]

My mun likes that idea a lot.... yes she does.

Mine has been playing on various forums, started off on LiveJournal though, but has never played on Dreamwidth. She has 3 journals of television characters currently.

[ehrenvoll]

Then by all means, have your mun tell mine if something pops up.

My mun makes journals only to not use them for months and then remembers he has them. It's a strange cycle his creativity goes through.

[waypastasking]

I will do that, and you as well. Maybe something will pop up.

[ehrenvoll]

I will. And I'll hold you to it, 'Captain'. [He grins, a fleeting expression.] Just remember the fact you outrank me doesn't mean you can order me around, since we're not in the same army.

[fromrussiawith_love]

[A German Nazi? Raikov will be eyeing you with a suspicious glare, dude.]

I thought Hitler was dead.

[ehrenvoll]

[Philip raises his eyebrows, but takes the glare in stride and keeps his tone polite. His voice is naturally soft, perhaps softer than would really give him any credibility. It's what comes with being too young to legally be in the uniform.]

Not in my time, no. Although my mundane informs me people of many eras comprise this place, so perhaps we are not from the same era, Herr...?

[fromrussiawith_love]

[Had Raikov travelled back in time? Not again....]

Major Ivan Raidenovitch Raikov. [His people had fought the Nazis not so long ago. Before Ivan was old enough to know about the Nazis but he knew how cruel the Reich could be. He glared at the German and puffed his chest out a little.]

[ehrenvoll]

Mediziner Philip Trommler, honorary Oberjäger. A pleasure to meet you, Major Raikov.

[Philip holds out his hand for the man to shake. Philip's seen his friends killed by Russians, has engaged in combat with them, but he was first and foremost there to treat injuries, nothing else.]

[fromrussiawith_love]

[He stared down at the hand and forcefully shook it. He knew he shouldn't but why not? The man was being pleasant enough even though he was the enemy. Or an old enemy of Russia.]

You seem overly friendly towards me. Why?

[ehrenvoll]

I'm not treating you any differently than I would anyone else. We're all people. We just happen to be on opposing sides. I did not chose that, and neither did you. This place is neutral ground, regardless.

[He'd seen the Russian soldiers. They were as painfully young and blindly hopeful as the German ones. They bled red on both sides, last he checked.]

[fromrussiawith_love]

Hmph. I guess that is true. [He wondered how many men this man had killed. Raikov was just sadistic like his Colonel.]

It's just I've never met a friendly Nazi before, well, any Nazi. I come from a time where the German occupation is over. The Soviet Union wins.

[ehrenvoll]

I'm not surprised. I was at the Eastern Front tending to the injured. The way our resources were running out, I think we all knew on some level it was a losing fight. But I had to stay. Too many medics had already deserted their fellow men. I'm sure you would've done the same thing. I don't think we're as different as either of us would like to think.

[That had always been the haunting thing, the way the human race shared so much in common that no rhetoric could disconnect them as the 'other' in his head. God, wouldn't that have made things easier?]

[fromrussiawith_love]

[ooc: I don't know if you're familiar with the canon from which Raikov is from but he's a flirty bastard XD]

I suppose that's true. [Raikov still eyed the man with suspicion. He couldn't trust him. Not yet anyway. Yet, he was handsome. There was no denying that. The Russian fell for handsome men, no matter what side of the fence they fought.]

So, you're a medic in the German army?

[ehrenvoll]

[[OOC: I'm not remotely but I ship this on the basis it's awful and dysfunctional and why the hell not. XD]]

I am. I wanted to be a doctor, but when we started getting news of men dying slow, painful deaths out there because there weren't enough medics, I made my choice. Wiesbaden will still be there when I get back. People need my help now.

[A pause.] Well, time works differently here. But if I helped people, then I helped them, regardless of that.

[fromrussiawith_love]

How about you tell me about these stories over a vodka or two?

[So, the Russian was making a move. He wanted to find out what this man was really like. Nazi or not, Raikov liked to infiltrate other's lives and possibly gain an advantage in doing so.]

[ehrenvoll]

I don't have the money to buy drinks. And I think, given our national allegiances, it'd be rude to make you buy them.

[Is he- no. No, he's just being nice. Oh, Philip had been to Berlin briefly. He'd heard about those men and women, and the bars you needed to be in the know to find. But no one had ever looked at someone like Philip Trommler and decided to chance asking him to one. Everyone knew Philip was extremely Catholic and extremely boring and preachy.

Still, he has to admit Raikov has a certain angular beauty to him. And if Philip were remotely interested in romance, which he wasn't because he was usually busy not dying, he might have found that white hair attractive.

On a woman, he reminded himself. There was no place in his life for a man.]

But if you insist, I suppose our muns might figure something out.

[fromrussiawith_love]

I do insist. Oh, my mundane is fine with me buying the drinks, as I'm not short of a rouble or two. [He smiled at the man, almost boasting. Why not? The Colonel gave him a good salary when he did as he was told and he got bribes from other soldiers when performing "favours" for them.]

How about we take a walk until we find a suitable bar for us? [A Soviet and a Nazi walk into a bar....

Oh, the looks they would get but Raikov didn't care. He was used to being stared at a lot back at his base by the men. He'd just beat them up if they stared at him anyway.]

[ehrenvoll]

I don't. I don't know what bar is a 'suitable' one. I've actually never been in one. [Because he had a pretty thorough guilt trip laid onto him by religion, family and country that he needed to be the perfect medic, so while others were out having a life, he was indoors with old medical texts forgetting to cultivate social skills.

That wording... a bar suitable for us. That sounded a little bit - no. Philip shook himself mentally. He's go to be reading this wrong.] I guess anywhere with vodka would work. Any stereotype you've heard about Germans drinking only beer is pretty much true.

[fromrussiawith_love]

I know a good few bars which line Moscow's city streets but not many in this place. Wherever here is. [Raikov gauged the man's reaction and smiled to himself. Was he reading the Russian's mind? Could he tell what Raikov meant by "suitable bar?" The Russian spotted a bar close by, as they walked and pointed.]

There. That looks an inviting place. [In fact, it looked rather Russian in design with red curtains and strong writing on the entrance sign.]

So, you're a beer drinker then? We drink beer like water at Groznyj Grad. When we get it, of course. Vodka is the main beverage of choice apart from tea. [He opened the door and waited for his comrade to join him.]

[ehrenvoll]

Inviting to you, maybe. It doesn't look like the kind of place a man in my uniform walks into. [He moves closer to Raikov as they walk, an instinct borne of growing up on the wrong side of the river Rhine - when uncertain, stick with others. Hopefully that philosophy would serve him well here, too.] Ah, well. Beer is cheapest and most widely available, and I'm not one for expensive things. There are some simple things in life that just work in and of themselves, though I had wine once and I rather liked it...

[He enters if only to keep his eyes off of Raikov's hair, which can be seemingly every shade of blonde in the right light, and is more mesmerizing than Philip is comfortable with. He doesn't want to examine why he keeps glancing at the other man. He's not sure he'll like what he finds out about himself if he looks too deeply into it.]

[fromrussiawith_love]

It'll be fine. [Raikov dismissed any fears that the other man might be having with a wave of his gloved hand. They both entered the bar, which seemed to be occupied by soldiers of some kind and some locals. The army soldiers looked like no one Raikov knew of. There weren't any Nazi soldiers within the bar, which wasn't a surprise but most just gave the pair odd glances and went back to their drinks.

If this was real Russia, Raikov's friend would most likely be up against a wall by now with a firing squad. Yet, this place was unknown to Raikov. He was grateful no one commented on him walking in with a Nazi.]

Well, shall we get some drinks in? [The young Russian sauntered up to the bar with a slight sway of his hips and knocked onto the wooden counter top. A middle-aged man walked up to serve the Major and noticed his uniform but didn't say anything. He shot a glance to his friend but again, said nothing. He just got the two glasses of vodka and passed them to the men. He took payment and then sauntered off.]

Odd place, yet they seem friendly enough around here. Davai! [He picked his glass up and held it in a toast to his new friend.]