Doctor Edward Richtofen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
doctor_dismemberment) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2012-12-13 09:10 pm
doctor_dismemberment) wrote in towerofanimus2012-12-13 09:10 pm
Entry tags:
The Doctor is [Busy]
Characters: Dr. Richtofen and you!
Setting: Over the course of the week - floor 15 (the workshop), floor 27 (the lab), various monster-heavy floors
Format: Action to start, but will match
Summary: After being released from Jason's cells almost a week ago, Richtofen is on the move. He's hustling from floor to floor even more than usual, attempting to construct a weapon for himself sincethe douchebag their kind administrator refused to give him one.
Warnings: Normal warnings for Richtofen - swearing, insanity, possible gore, possible sensitive subject matter of the WWII-era variety.
Workshop
[Anyone who wanders by the workshop will see a curious sight: Richtofen, who normally sticks to floors like the infirmary and the morgue, is working dilligently. He not only seems to know what he's doing, but he looks like he's good at it. He handles the machinery as if he's been acquainted with it for years, welding and sanding and polishing both wood and metal with impressive dexterity.
In fact, at first glance, with his hat off, a lab coat over his Wehrmacht uniform, and his face covered by a surgical mask and goggles, this calm, focused man hardly looks like Richtofen at all. The only indication that he's everybody's favorite doctor is that he occasionally mumbles incoherent little things to himself in that distinct, German-accented voice of his, but over the buzzing and whirring of the machinery, even that is often difficult to make out.
Early in the week, it doesn't look like he's making anything of substance. However, look closely and you'll notice a book lying open next to him that he keeps consulting, full of designs for what seems to be a large gun surrounded by messy scribbles and technical jargon. Later in the week, the body of this gun seems to take shape.]
Laboratory
[Once he's fashioned himself his weapon (and it's impressively-made, though not quite as perfect as it would have been if he'd had all the equipment he used back home), Richtofen sets off to make ammo and get himself a power source. It's at this point when he starts to spend his time in the laboratory, a floor he's more accustomed to.
Someone who encounters Richtofen while he's in the lab will see him hunched over futuristic-looking machinery, deeply engrossed in what he's doing, but more on-edge than he was in the workshop. He's working with what looks to be some sort of rock, black with lines of red that almost look like veins running through their surface. It's the red part he's interested in, because that's the stuff he's careful to extract and place in his gun.]
Around the Tower
[Finally, after a lot of hard work, labor, and intesive efforts being a paranoid asshole, Richtofen's finished. He waits up one night, eager for the monsters to show their ugly faces (or lack thereof). Not just any monster will do, though - no, he's looking for a group of monsters.
Once he finds enough of them, he decides to give his new weapon a test. He steadies his aim, pointing at just one monster, and a crazed grin spreads over his face as he places his finger on the trigger.]
Oh, ja, you all want to play, is that it? [He waits until the monsters lurch forward, hoping, hoping he did everything right, because test runs be damned - this is his test run.] Then come on and let's play, pretty ones!
[And then he pulls the trigger, and the result lights up the place bright as day for a split second. This gun doesn't shoot a bullet; it shoots pure electricity, which hits the first monster, and bolts of lightning arch off of its body to connect with several others in the vicinity. The air is filled with the sounds of crackling, inhuman shrieks, and Richtofen's crazed laughter, the latter of which keeps going even after the monsters fall dead to the floor.]
Yes! Hahaha! Yes, die for me! Take your medicine, yes, good!
[Richtofen will fire off a few more shots that night. Be careful; if you're too close to any of the monsters affected by his weapon, you'll get hit, too, and it won't be a light shock by any means. The trails of bodies Richtofen leaves behind, up to ten at a time, can attest to that.]
Setting: Over the course of the week - floor 15 (the workshop), floor 27 (the lab), various monster-heavy floors
Format: Action to start, but will match
Summary: After being released from Jason's cells almost a week ago, Richtofen is on the move. He's hustling from floor to floor even more than usual, attempting to construct a weapon for himself since
Warnings: Normal warnings for Richtofen - swearing, insanity, possible gore, possible sensitive subject matter of the WWII-era variety.
Workshop
[Anyone who wanders by the workshop will see a curious sight: Richtofen, who normally sticks to floors like the infirmary and the morgue, is working dilligently. He not only seems to know what he's doing, but he looks like he's good at it. He handles the machinery as if he's been acquainted with it for years, welding and sanding and polishing both wood and metal with impressive dexterity.
In fact, at first glance, with his hat off, a lab coat over his Wehrmacht uniform, and his face covered by a surgical mask and goggles, this calm, focused man hardly looks like Richtofen at all. The only indication that he's everybody's favorite doctor is that he occasionally mumbles incoherent little things to himself in that distinct, German-accented voice of his, but over the buzzing and whirring of the machinery, even that is often difficult to make out.
Early in the week, it doesn't look like he's making anything of substance. However, look closely and you'll notice a book lying open next to him that he keeps consulting, full of designs for what seems to be a large gun surrounded by messy scribbles and technical jargon. Later in the week, the body of this gun seems to take shape.]
Laboratory
[Once he's fashioned himself his weapon (and it's impressively-made, though not quite as perfect as it would have been if he'd had all the equipment he used back home), Richtofen sets off to make ammo and get himself a power source. It's at this point when he starts to spend his time in the laboratory, a floor he's more accustomed to.
Someone who encounters Richtofen while he's in the lab will see him hunched over futuristic-looking machinery, deeply engrossed in what he's doing, but more on-edge than he was in the workshop. He's working with what looks to be some sort of rock, black with lines of red that almost look like veins running through their surface. It's the red part he's interested in, because that's the stuff he's careful to extract and place in his gun.]
Around the Tower
[Finally, after a lot of hard work, labor, and intesive efforts being a paranoid asshole, Richtofen's finished. He waits up one night, eager for the monsters to show their ugly faces (or lack thereof). Not just any monster will do, though - no, he's looking for a group of monsters.
Once he finds enough of them, he decides to give his new weapon a test. He steadies his aim, pointing at just one monster, and a crazed grin spreads over his face as he places his finger on the trigger.]
Oh, ja, you all want to play, is that it? [He waits until the monsters lurch forward, hoping, hoping he did everything right, because test runs be damned - this is his test run.] Then come on and let's play, pretty ones!
[And then he pulls the trigger, and the result lights up the place bright as day for a split second. This gun doesn't shoot a bullet; it shoots pure electricity, which hits the first monster, and bolts of lightning arch off of its body to connect with several others in the vicinity. The air is filled with the sounds of crackling, inhuman shrieks, and Richtofen's crazed laughter, the latter of which keeps going even after the monsters fall dead to the floor.]
Yes! Hahaha! Yes, die for me! Take your medicine, yes, good!
[Richtofen will fire off a few more shots that night. Be careful; if you're too close to any of the monsters affected by his weapon, you'll get hit, too, and it won't be a light shock by any means. The trails of bodies Richtofen leaves behind, up to ten at a time, can attest to that.]
no subject
It is 'hanging' fine, I suppose. [He can't seem to take his eyes off the symbols.] What an... interesting jacket you have there, mein Freund.
no subject
Oh thanks, it fills me with feelings of amazing win. Something that fits me perfectly, I'm the boss. [He says it without hesitation and stops a few feet away from the man. So then, he does know about the symbol.]
So, do you mind answering a few questions of mine. [It was a statement, not a question.]
no subject
Mm, perhaps. If you ask anything worth answering, that is.
[He doesn't like being talked to like that, and he makes it clear with his cold tone of voice.]
no subject
First question, can you manufacture more of those weapons?
no subject
I suppose I could, if I wanted to. [He looks at where the man's eyes would be if they weren't covered by a gas mask.] The question is, why would I want to? One is more than enough for me.
[He doesn't like the direction this conversation is taking.]
no subject
no subject
[Richtofen couldn't help but let out a bark of laughter at that, no matter how - he cringed at the word - intimidated he may or may not have been feeling (and of course he wasn't, that would just be absurd, but he was wary).]
You want my Wunderwaffe? [He raised his eyebrows in disbelief, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.] I hardly see a reason to give it to you.
no subject
Perhaps you're forgetting just what you're talking to. As well as what wants the weapon. Besides, I are being very nice.
no subject
[He scoffs and turns away, as if expecting the Illuminati kid to oblige and just walk away.]
no subject
no subject
[Richtofen veers off to one side, stumbling for a few steps before he manages to regain his balance. The fact that he was caught so off-guard makes his face flush red with anger, and his voice gets accordingly loud and high-pitched.]
Why must you try to hurt the doctor?! You are a bad child! Bad!