[SEMI-OPEN] December Catchall

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i.) Ritterlichkeit und das Schwert : Training Room

[With Sam currently out of commission, Hermann does not have it within him to stop the momentum of his sword training. He finds it paramount to continue practicing all he has learned so far. Even if it is basic sword strikes against a dummy.

Despite the physical daunting tasks, he continues to press on. Out of breath. Sweating. As long as Hermann can perfect at least one technique, he is making progress.
It’s not until he attempts at another forward strike that he accidentally trips and falls right on his face.]

…Gott verdammt!

ii.) Kuchen für Zwei : Kitchen

[Since the Braccia mission, Hermann had taken to baking as a new hobby. It started very small, at first, experimenting with a simple batch of cookies now evolving into more complex pastry recipes.
Today was no different as he carefully put the final touches on his carrot cake. He’s no idea how it tastes or how others might think of it. It’d be an awful shame if it went to waste.

He can’t help but look at his final creation, scratching underneath his chin out of nervousness. If you happen to be in talking proximity, he will most likely solicit your opinion:]

Please, be honest. Would you eat this?

iii.) Moon’s Reaching Stars: Laboratory


[Hermann promised himself that it won’t another late night. And yet he’s succumbed to listening to the quiet hums of the station as he continues to work at his station. In all fairness, this is all for the sake of future missions and so the timing on his workload is very sensitive. Hermann can’t waste even a second to back down on his current line of calculations.

A small yawn escapes him with his eyes also starting to feel bleary, yet he can’t help but shake the slight pain he feels in the back of his head.

Maybe if he tries resting his head on top of his workstation then…]

iv.) Fall Silent into the Night: Infirmary: [ CLOSED to Close CR - Dec 15-31st ]

[Another migraine. This time it’s more hideous than Hermann’s previous ones. Like a knife jammed deep into his cortex, it feels as though no amount of drugs can ease the pain. All Hermann can remember is trying to walk down the halls in one moment and then hearing young Shinjiro’s voice call out for him as everything soon turned black.

He’s in pain. And he is exhausted.

Minutes become hours as hours soon turn into days and then, eventually, weeks…

Had it been Christmas already? He can’t tell. Eyes far too heavy and sedated to be doing anything.

When Hermann finally cracks an eye open, he is met with a wave of nausea like no other. No matter how much he tries, there is no way for him to get out of bed.

Tired, sick, and alone.

Once more, Hermann closes his eyes, hoping that he will find some light at the end of this dreary tunnel.]

Comments

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[He lets out an audible whine.

As much as he wants to, Hermann bites his tongue about Newton not being open about the drift bleed sooner. He’s already berated him on it before. It’s useless to trudge up any lingering annoyance he’s felt so far about it.]

I don’t know what “stuff” you are referring but it is hitting me harder than a right hook from an Mk-III Jaeger!

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[He sighs, frustrated. At himself, though.]

The 'stuff' I'm referring to is me getting bad enough to get myself put in the hospital. And now you're in the hospital. And I feel like maybe there's a correlation and part of this is all my fault. So there.

[And honestly, feelin' like shit about it. Feelin' like shit about a lot of things, so he's really got existing as a failure down to a T.]

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[There is a pregnant pause. In between Newton’s words and Hermann trying to let the medication settle down into his system, he can feel the stress bite at the back of his head. Hermann turns to his side with his back facing Newton. He finds a cool spot on his pillow to burrow his cheek against.]

Newton, I’m going back to bed now.

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[Newt stiffens nervously again, then bites his lip.]

... Yeah. That's a good idea.

I'll — stick around 'til you're asleep, if you want.

[Newt doesn't often sound unsure of himself. Rare instances like these, though, leaves room for a tone that is flimsy, quieter than usual. He pulls his hands away and rolls so that his back runs along Hermann's — less direct, but tactile enough, even as his arms hang off the edge of the bed.]

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[Hermann remains quiet. There is a tense stiffness building on his shoulder blades remaining in one place. He can’t put his finger on it as he feels a particular frigidness run down his spine. Something that ought to be left to be unsaid.

Tomorrow is Christmas. And Hermann will remain in bed until this illness of his passes. He feigns shutting his eyelids to pretend he is falling back asleep. Perhaps if he is lucky, he can stomach his tea and broth tomorrow without seeing it inside of a rubbish bin again.

That’ll make for a lovely gift.]

[groupiedrifter]

[Newt's quiet for a moment, the tension in Hermann's back leaving a sinking feeling in his stomach: guilt, and something else.

And in that terrible moment, he feels kind of — heartbroken.

What an idiot he is. Egg on his face, right? The chasm's between them is back and bigger now thanks to him, and he thinks maybe Raleigh's wrong. Maybe he's wrong, and the drift theory is wrong, and him being this close only hurts instead of helps. It's probably torture. What is he even doing here?

He quietly sits up, and the small mattress dips then rises as the space next to Hermann is empty once again. Instead of lingering and making things worse, he opts to just leave the iguana McCoy had gifted him in his place. It's childish, but sometimes Hermann appreciates childish things, right?

Without so much as another sound, save for his footfalls, he moves to leave the infirmary.]