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
[Sephiroth couldn't help but recall the gleeful way Richtofen hacked into all those drones...that riot....it might as well have never happened for all the use it did.]
Sniff. Sniff
I suppose that- [He gestured to the contraption the doctor was holding] - is the newest way for you to sedate your bloodshed?
[Not that there was much blood to be had, frying everything]
no subject
Oh, ja. It is a very effective weapon. [He looked up to meet Sephiroth's eyes.] ...But I guess you can see that for yourself, hm?
no subject
Sniff [This minor flu had to have worn off by the morning. It had already taken way to long to go away.]
Though a little too impersonal for my tastes.
no subject
I've been so personal with all of my kills for such a long time, it's nice to finally kill from a distance again.
no subject
[One couldn't expect to play with fire and not get burned, so Sephiroth surmises that eventually the doctor will be electrocuted by his own weapon.
Folded arms drop as the need to cough bypassed Sephiroth's stern control. Uncaring what the doctor thought, the tired, dry cough echoed around a little before Sephiroth got it under wraps again and inhaled deeply to help swallow it back down.]
no subject
[But, more importantly, Richtofen wants to scrutinize Sephiroth. He creeps closer, staring at the strange way his sweat is acting.]
Speaking of safe... Is what you have contagious? [He gestures to Sephiroth's body, wrinkling his nose.] The doctor does not want to end up in the hospital!
no subject
I shouldn't even have this sort of illness, how am I supposed to know how contagious it is?
no subject
[He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the surgical mask he stored in there for safekeeping. With one hand, he secures it over his nose and mouth.]
Okay. [He waves his hand.] Continue with the chitter-chatter now.
no subject
[Naturally anyone could be insulted by such a rude gesture and Sephiroth isn't any exception. Sure he understands germ theory and all that but certainly if he has caught something in this damned Tower then this Doctor shouldn't be any less susceptible. Clearly the Doctor doesn't know who - or rather what Sephiroth is, this is probably a good thing. It's bad enough with Hojo...]
I've nothing much more to say. [Hold. Hold. There may be a sneeze...
....
No, not this time.]
Enjoy the rest of your evening. [Sephiroth turns and starts walking back the way he came. It was late and the walk along with his condition was exhausting him already.]
no subject
Wait! Are you sure you wouldn't like a check-up? [He gives Sephiroth a critical look over his mask.] I am a doctor, you know.
no subject
Sephiroth stops and looks over his shoulder.]
It's only...a cold.
[A pathetic, human cold. In a non-too human host nonetheless but Sephiroth supposed his cells would catch up and fight it off shortly regardless. They were just, being slow.]
If it gets complicated, I'll find you.