Last year, it snuck up on him. This year he's been thinking about it for the past month. His seventeenth birthday. He should be happy about it, he knows. But it still feels wrong to him. To celebrate the day of his birth when he should be dead ( Read more... )

Young Lämmermeier had been spreading some nice apricot jelly on bread earlier, ready for yet another delightful breakfast with his mother and father. He had been in the process of pouring tea for his lovely parents when he... well, blinked. And suddenly the table is gone along with the tea and his parents and-- oh no, not the toast and jelly.

One ( Read more... )

Martha is sitting somewhere, at a table, her notebook open to a blank page, her pencil poised to write or draw something. She wants to perhaps sketch that tree outside, even if she isn't very good at it. She tries scrawling out a leaf, but sighs, clearly distracted by something else ( Read more... )

It just wouldn't be a regular day without a distressed German ( Read more... )

She has her hands over her eyes a smile on her pale face. "Ready or not, here I--"

A girl holding flowers, with braided hair and a simple navy dress opens her eyes and whirls around to find... well, it's certainly not the wooded area by her house, that is for sure. She looks over her shoulder before rubbing her eyes with her free hand, making sure ( Read more... )

There is a German in the mansion. Yes. Another one.

This one had just been staring at talking to Thea by the river. Then he'd turned around and he was here ( Read more... )

It's a Thursday, and like any day that ends in "y," Georg has piano lessons. With his hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket, he's on his way to his piano instructor's house... mostly. He might have taken a detour by the stream, calling out to the boys who had happened to take a raft out that day. He's sorely tempted to ditch piano and stay here ( Read more... )

Let's pretend it's Christmas, shall we? Christmas day, and, after a few hours of pain and screaming wherein she was absolutely convinced she was going to die, little Wendla Bergmann is now a mother ( Read more... )

Moritz sat in the main room, head in his hands, trembling. His gun was next to him on the couch, as he hadn't been able to so much look at it after the incident with Prince Paul.

"Oh God..." he murmured, fighting back tears. "I killed him..."

Typist: He's still a bit in schock, but if asked, he'll explain what happened. Prince Paul was shot and ( Read more... )

Ilse is sitting on the floor somewhere in the main room, hair braided and legs clad in blue stockings. She has been outside picking flowers, and is now plucking the petals and watching them make a pile in her lap ( Read more... )