Kroenen
Hitler's top assasin. Undead and immortal, a gas mask and protective suit hide his self-butchered body. Silent and foreboading, his SS uniform, Luger sidearm, and wrist blades do all the talking for him.
Groups
Kroenen treads stiffly and slowly into the bar with measured, precise steps. The sound of a ticking clock can be heard, yet there is no watch on his wrist, nor is there a pocket watch's chain protruding from his SS trenchcoat. He pauses a moment to toss his masked head to the side, casting the droplets of rain from the brim of his cap.
Kroenen peering out through the tinted portholes of his mask, he saw combat commencing in the room and watched it with intensity. Never taking his eyes off the two combatants, he proceeded to take a seat at the bar, where he steepled his fingers and laid his metal-covered chin upon them, studying all the going-ons in the quaint little room.
Kroenen 's head would cock to the side quickly as the ticking suddenly stopped. The foreboding figure would then place a gloved hand inside his damp coat and a sound of cranking is heard. he would then resume his relaxed posture, the ticking only a faint noise in the ambience.
Kroenen
's lidless eyes would follow this girl, Savine, as she made her way to the same bar he sat at. The experienced Nazi soldier could tell there was something different about this girl, and decided to find out what, but before he could stand from his seat, he heard a voice directed at him. He would then turn slowly and produce a small pad from inside his coat, and punch something into it. Sprechen Sie Deutsch?
a synthesized voice would cough from a small speaker.
Kroenen "gute Gott..." the box would speak after he punched a few more letters in. "The correct answer is 'nicht' mein friend... no, you do not speak German."
Kroenen would jerk slightly at the mention of drinking but covered it smoothly. "Nicht. I don't drink. Thank you for the offer, however." he would stand stiffly and move to this man's table. "I too, have come a long way. And not just in miles."
"You are partially correct, mein friend. But I can explain what happened. But I will not."
Kroenen would lay his arms in his lap, a quiet chink of metal being heard. "Ruprecht van Kroenen."