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Ilse Klein Gauner

A German-American woman, petite, average, unremarkable. Really. Or, at least that's what she wants you to believe, if you even notice her.

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a character in “The Multiverse”, originally authored by RolePlayGateway, as played by Saviarre

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So begins...

Ilse Klein Gauner's Story

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Ilse Klein Gauner nudged a shoulder into the door, pushing it open with her weight. She stepped into the bar, soaking wet, her hands clasped behind her back. She tried to appear casual, but suddenly began tossing her head to try to loosen ropes of hair from clinging to her face. Her efforts were in vain. She glanced around the room, gauging the patrons in the bar. Yes. Someone here would be able to help her, she just wasn't certain what it would cost. At this point, it didn't matter. She moved to appear as if she were standing against a wall casually. "Anyone here familiar with handcuffs?" she called, her voice clear and cold.

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Ilse Klein Gauner breathed a sigh of relief and cautiously moved over toward Kazen, still attempting to appear casual despite the audible squishing each step brought from her Doc Martens. She had tried to tug the sleeves of her black shirt over the cuffs and clasped her hands to appear ordinary. Narrowing her eyes to him, she nodded as she approached him. "What's it going to cost me?" she asked cautiously. Her eyes flickered over Ireland appraisingly before turning back to Kazen.

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Ilse Klein Gauner studied his face for a moment. In her experience, nothing was free. Charity did not exist. She looked him over again. Military? Mercenary? Certainly not one of the ones from whom she was running... right? She mentally shook her head. No. Couldn't be. The trenchcoat automatically took that possibility away. Slowly, she turned her back to him, twisting her head to look over her shoulder. "I greatly appreciate it. Damn things are starting to hurt and I lost feeling in my thumbs a good three hours ago."

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Ilse Klein Gauner had been thinking of a believable response to the question she knew would be asked ever since she realized that she was going to make it. She could lie. She could tell the truth. She could do both. She studied the implement he had pulled from his coat. Lightsaber? Oh Christ. She'd chosen an insane man to help her. Lovely. "I can answer that question many ways," she said, a hint of an accent appearing the more she talked. She was tired. It only came out when she was tired. Or drunk. And she definitely was not drunk, although she hoped to remedy that as soon as she could lift a glass to her lips. "Got arrested. Kinky sex games. I was playing around with them and got stuck." She shrugged. "The why doesn't matter. Long story short, someone put them on me and I cannot get them off."

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Ilse Klein Gauner turned back around to face him, tilting her head. "Serial killer rapist demon wolf bitch? Did I get that right?" She chuckled, moving her face against her shoulder to try to dislodge the clinging ropes of wet hair from her face, again unsuccessfully. "Do I look like I have horns or a tail?" She lowered her head to show him that she, in fact, did not possess demon horns and then turned around to show him that no tail protruded from her backside. "Serial killer?" She looked at him over her shoulder again. "Do I look like I could kill anything?" She batted her eyelashes at him and grinned. "Would it help if I told you I was just a kindergarten teacher from the Bronx?" Well, it was partially true... and a partial truth was not a lie, right?

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Ilse Klein Gauner winced as she brought her arms forward, the pain in her shoulders intense. "Scheisse!" she muttered in response to the pain. Her hands moved to massage each wrist, hoping to bring some feeling back into her thumbs. "Thanks for that." As he moved around her, she narrowed her eyes. Despite the fact that he was much larger than her, she glared up at him in response to his question, to his threat. "I told you all you needed to know," she said, raising an eyebrow as she looked at him, her expression nearly daring him to try.

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Ilse Klein Gauner had remained unmoving during his threat, her lips moving into a smile. Despite the fact that the knife had been pressed to her face, she'd heard worse, she'd felt worse. She was actually surprised he hadn't taken the blade to her face. She was used to that. If he meant to inspire fear in her, he had failed. If anything, he had created an image for himself of the type of person she was used to. She lifted a hand to pull the ropes of hair away from her face finally and then returned the blown kiss with a small wink. "I'll be seeing you." She watched him walk away with a smile. Oh yes, he was going to be fun. She might have to stick around this godforsaken hellhole a bit longer than intended. After all, Gordo was dead now. And Louie. And Ralph. And Sam. Christ, they were all dead now. She lowered herself to a bar stool. All. Gone. And she should be too.

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Ilse Klein Gauner slid into the bar quietly and unobtrusively, most likely unnoticed as well. She moved with purpose, her Doc Martens still squishing with each step she took. She would need to find new clothes, ones that weren't stiff with dried lake water. And a shower. The damn stuff had dried causing her hair to look and feel like straw. What the hell was in that water? It hadn't tasted bad... well... considering... Her eyes scanned the room and landed on the counter. Drink. She wanted a drink. Moving casually over toward the counter, she slid behind it for a moment, grabbing the nearest bottle discreetly and then carrying it over to a relatively quiet booth. Tequila. Decent. She cracked the cap and lifted the bottle to her lips, taking a hefty swig before swallowing and wincing. Okay, Ilse. You need clothes. A shower. A place to stay.. but before all that, you need money. She frowned as she considered what to do. Those bastards had taken all of hers before dumping her, leaving her to die. She took another swig.

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Ilse Klein Gauner glanced up as she noticed Kazen moving down the stairs. She pursed her lips as she debated with herself for a moment and then slid from the booth, the tequila bottle held loosely in her hand. She crossed the bar, moving toward him. With each step, a squelching sound could be heard coming from her boots. She hated that sound. Moving to position herself next to him at the counter, she stood with her back against it, leaning her elbows on its surface, not looking at him. Still, when she spoke, it was obvious that she was addressing him. "Look, I'm not from around these parts and I'm looking to make some money. Seeing as you're the only person I've met here, you are the obvious person for me to ask. Do you know of odd jobs that need doing? Or a bank that needs robbing? I'd hate to have to take out a bunch of schoolchildren and force you to follow through on your empty threat." She lifted the bottle to her lips and swallowed.

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Ilse Klein Gauner sighed, lifting the bottle to her lips again, staring across the room. "I should. Know of any stores around here that don't suck?" She moved a hand to her stomach, plucking at the stiff t-shirt. "Clothes are the least of my worries at the moment. I would kill for a shower... and the feeling back in my thumbs." She wriggled her fingers and cleared her throat. "I appreciated your help. That thing you have... what is it and where can I get one? To keep stuff like this from happening again..."

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Ilse Klein Gauner tilted her head as she considered his offer. "Humanitarian..." she snorted slightly. "Right." She swigged from the bottle again, the liquid warming her, but also reminding her of how long it had been since she had eaten. When was it? Back home? Macaroni and cheese? Hmm. To think. Her last meal could have been macaroni and cheese. Classy. Very classy. She tilted her head to look up at the ceiling, trying to force herself not to the think of the 'could have's.' She was alive. Against all odds. "I appreciate the offer, but other people's clothes are theirs. I'll probably just knock over some store for them... but no sense wearing clean clothes until I get a shower." She turned and examined the rates for the rooms upstairs, considering. "Hell with it. I'll just get a room here. I'll find a way to pay." Suddenly she turned to him, finally looking at him for the first time. "You don't happen to have scuba gear I could borrow, do ya?"

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Ilse Klein Gauner /msg Saarai laptop is getting strangely hot. If I drop, it's because it overheated. Been doing that a lot recently.

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Ilse Klein Gauner chuckled. Grenades? Pistols? Well, her arsenal had been taken along with her money. No. She wouldn't consider it. "It's not necessary, really. I have plenty of money, just no way to get to it." Sam kept his wallet in his boot... always said that when the time came, nobody would look for it there. Remembering the capture, she recalled that they hadn't taken it. Of course, she couldn't be certain. She was a bit distracted by the unwanted groping by her own captors. Bastards. "Who I am depends on who you are. If you're an enemy, you needn't know my name, but... you've been far too considerate to be considered an enemy. Ilse Klein Gauner, kindergarten teacher from the Bronx." It wasn't a lie. Really. "Among other things."

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Ilse Klein Gauner sighed and lifted the bottle, taking a large swig. Lowering the bottle, she turned to him with a sigh. "I will accept your offer under one condition: you either let me pay you back when I have acquired the money or you let me work it off." She held a hand out to stop protestations. "Nothing sexual. Sorry... you're not my type." She hated being in a position to need help from others, but she hated even more accepting it. She lifted a hand to brush the hair from her face and frowned as she felt it. "What the hell is in that lake, anyway?"

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Ilse Klein Gauner couldn't help but smile at his reaction. "I just wanted to be sure we were clear. That's all. Besides, I'm not conceited. I'm good and I know it, but I don't think we're talking about the same things." She turned her head away slightly and ran her tongue over her lips at the mention of motorcycles. "Like em? Of course. And I can completely tear one down and rebuild it in only a few hours. Why do you ask?"

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Ilse Klein Gauner chuckled softly. "It's never as big as a guy thinks it is." She took one last swig from the bottle of tequila and set it on the counter, noting the level of the alcohol. She would have to be careful. After a moment, she picked it back up and screwed the cap on, letting it hang loosely in her hand at her side. She couldn't leave it. She would need it later... when she was in the dark and all alone... she had to keep the realization of what had just happened to her and her friends at bay. "Alright, big boy, show me your beast... I promise I won't snicker." She grinned at him, chuckling at her own innuendo.

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Ilse Klein Gauner narrowed her eyes suspiciously as she followed Kazen, listening to his words. Why would he help her? She didn't understand. She tried to put herself in his position - some ragamuffin girl approaches for help with the removal of handcuffs, refuses to explain how she got in the position she was in... Ilse wouldn't help... or would she? She shrugged, figuring she was too tired to consider it anymore. Whatever his help would cost her, she would gladly pay... At this point, all that sounded good to her was a shower and a long long sleep. She'd deal with the problem of coming to terms with everything that had happened when she was rested. "Thank you, Kazen," she said as she followed him out the door.

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Ilse Klein Gauner descended the stairs with a yawn, glancing down at the too-big shirt and the pants she had to tie on with shoelaces. Charity. She snorted to herself. Moving to a booth, she slid in and tapped her fingers on the table. Alright, Ilse. Clothes, shower, shelter acquired. Money? Work on that. She knew where plenty was, she just had to find a way to get to it... and she wasn't looking forward to facing the reality of her situation.

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Ilse Klein Gauner propped her feet up on the booth seat with her, stretching, leaning her back against the wall. Money... money... She bit her lip as she looked around at the patrons in the place. She had to find a way to get to the only money she knew about... Once she had money, she could think about going home. No, wait. She couldn't go home. She wasn't supposed to be alive. She was supposed to disappear. Crap. Okay. No going home. What then? Clothes, shower, shelter, all acquired. Next, she needed money, and then... What then? Her stomach rumbled as she thought about this. Crap. Food. But to get food, she needed money... but without food, how would she get to the money.

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Ilse Klein Gauner tilted her neck to the side, sighing in pleasure at the cracking sound. She rolled her head around, stretching the muscles. Staring down at her hands, she frowned as she noticed that her wrists still held the impressions of the handcuffs she was never meant to escape. With her right index finger, she poked at the one at the base of her left thumb. Immediately the thumb went numb. Nerve damage. Fabulous. Well, it was an acceptable trade. She closed her eyes and remembered the dark, the cold of the water, the bubbles rushing up past her face, tickling her, lingering as if to mock the fact that she soon would be without air. Shuddering, she forced the thought from her mind and opened her eyes. Drink. Yes. She slid from the booth and moved casually toward the bar, eying Suza with great curiousity as she walked. Snaking a hand behind the counter, she discreetly snatched a bottle of tequila and carried it back to the booth. Sneaky. Now that was something she was good at.

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Ilse Klein Gauner unscrewed the cap on the bottle of tequila as she moved back to the booth. She slid back into the booth, noticing the attention she was drawing from Suza. Shit. Inconspicuous. She was supposed to remain inconspicuous. At least until she figured out what she was going to do. She tapped her fingers on the top of the table as she idly sipped the tequila. It burned down her throat, setting fire to her empty stomach, instantly cramping it. Damnit. Frustrated, she set the tequila on the table and wrapped an arm around her stomach. Food. She would need to eat before she could get drunk. Holding the bottle out to a passing waitress, she muttered quietly: "Trade this for a glass of water." The waitress would look at her strangely but take the bottle and bring back the requested glass of water. Ilse stared down at her illfitting outfit of borrowed clothes and sighed, suddenly missing her own clothes, her own things. "Damn you Viktor," she muttered to herself. -c-

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Ilse Klein Gauner She suddenly felt her arm grabbed and she threw her head back in fear, her hand cocking into a fist and swinging before she could stop herself. Immediately after swinging, she realized that she didn’t recognize the face. He wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t coming to take her back, dump her in the lake again. He wasn’t… What the hell was he doing? She pulled her arm away forcefully and looked down at her wrists. The impressions were gone. She poked the base of her thumb and it didn’t instantly go numb. She looked up, curiously. “Um, ah… handcuffs,” she admitted. –e-

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Ilse Klein Gauner held her hands up apologetically, fingers spread wide, trying to show Kaal that she didn't intend to hurt him. "I-I'm sorry. You startled me. When you grabbed my wrist like that, I thought you were...." She stopped herself, honestly remorseful for her reaction. "You're not who I was afraid you were. I... I'm sorry. Really." She attempted to smile, the first encouraging smile since she got here. "I... thanks... for whatever you did." She bit her lip and tucked herself further into the booth, drawing her knees up to her chest. Great. So much for remaining inconspicuous...

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Ilse Klein Gauner [color=maroon]noticed that Suza was still observing her and she shifted uncomfortably. Damnit. Whatever happened to blending in? But then again, looking around at the strange people here, she doubted that she could blend in at all. Well, if she couldn't blend in, she could at least come off as uninteresting, right? Right. Although, the fact that her first reaction when startled was to fight back betrayed her. Would she ever feel safe again or would she spend the rest of her life feeling as if she were being followed, like around every corner was a man wishing to throw her away?. Of course, there always had been. She was used to it by now. Or should be. "Kaal..." she repeated. Crap. Introductions. She bit her lip, hesitating. Did she tell the truth? Should she lie? "Um... Ilse," she nodded, attempting a smile. Roll with it, Ilse, just roll with it. Remember. Uninteresting. She sat up slightly straighter and tried to give the impression that she wasn't nervous. "Again, I'm sorry." She chuckled. "Lots of older brothers. Ins

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 Instinct."