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Ilsa Reinhardt

Belkan who works for the Landwachter and side-by-side with Matthias Rueger.

0 · 417 views · located in The Core Worlds

a character in “The Multiverse”, originally authored by Prose, as played by youplaythisgamewell

Groups

An empire stretching thousands of worlds, the Hegemony exists to further one goal; the complete domination of everything non-Scatterran.
An empire of shapeshifters, the Erutins value their twin above all. Largely peaceful, they remain prepared for war.

Description

Image
General Information


Full Name: Ilsa Reinhardt

Meaning of the Name:
Given Name: "God is my Oath"
Surname: Counsel

Monikers: N/A

Birthdate: October 17th, 2582.

Age: 22 Scatterran Years.

Gender: Female.

Bloodtype: A+

Species: Scatterran.

Race: Belkan.

Occupation: Landwächter.

Rank: Untersturmführer

Social Class: Middle Class.

Orientation: Heterosexual.

Physical Information


Apparent Age: 25 Scatterran Years.

Voice: Smooth Soprano.

Overall Attractiveness: Well Above Average.

Eye Color: Blue.

Glasses or Contacts: N/A

Hair Color: Platinum Blond.

Hairstyle: Loose/Straight.

Weight: 58 Kilograms.

Height: 1.82 Meters.

Skin Tone: Porcelain.

Shape of Face: Oval.

Personality

Persona


Favorites:
Color: Amethyst.
Music: Belkan Opera.
Literature: Smutty Romance Novels.
Mode of Transportation: Public.

Habits:
Drinking: No.
Smoking: No.
Mannerisms: Polite, Politically Correct, and Conservative, or so it seems and things are not always as they seem.

Optimist or Pessimist? Optimist.

Introvert or Extrovert? Introvert.

Logical or Emotional? Emotional.

Business or Pleasure? Business.

Confident? Absolutely.

Animal Lover? Yes.

Priority: Serving Kampf then serving the Hegemony, and finally performing her duty as a Landwächter.

Pressure Point: Ilsa has OCD and does not like anything out of line or beneath imperfection.
Is this obvious? Yes, its uncontrollable.

Religion: Follower of Kampf.

Political Affiliation: The Hegemony of the Aligned Systems.

History

Background


Familial Relations:
Mother: Helene Reinhardt.
Father: Josef Reinhardt.
Brother(s): Emmerick.
Husband: Matthias Rueger
Daughters: Ilsabeth, Leoni
Hometown: Tauplitz District, Rienzi.

So begins...

Ilsa Reinhardt's Story

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Entering into Matthias Rueger's office instantly made Ilsa freeze and stare at the room in horror. It was a mess—what she considered a mess to entail. Things were not lined up perfectly and several items on Matthias' desk were skewed at odd, unmatching angles.

"Zis vill not do," Ilsa said to herself before removing a pair of white gloves from her blazer pocket. These she placed on her hands and began her new mission: rearranging Matthias' entire office. First came the desk. Files were picked up, sorted alphabetically then filed away. Office supplies were placed on the desk, keeping intensely perfect angles with the other supplies. It continued on for about thirty minutes. Still however, when Ilsa was finished with tidying the room, it was still not perfect.

The light came in the room the wrong way and the desk was positioned in the wrong place. The bookcase was not lined against the wall either.

"Zis vill take some time to fix. Vell, I better get started und put everthing vhere ist goes," Ilsa once again said to herself while studying the room. It took only a second to decide where everything should be position and so the Belkan woman began to rearrange the furniture in her ideal locations. Several people who walked by Matthias' office stopped outside the door and listened in on the commotion occurring inside and wondered to themselves what exactly was transpiring in the room. But instead of poking their heads in, someone decided to go get the man himself and ask personally.

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There wasn't a single moment to be lost until the room was completed. Ilsa would not stop until the room was completed and to her standards. At the greeting of Matthias, she did nothing more than silence him with an offhand gesture before rolling his desk chair across the room and behind the desk where it sat in its new location on the eastern wall. It must have been quite an odd sight watching the woman move the chair several times and only by slight fractions of where it was before. Ilsa kept stepping backwards and surveying the entire room, then would look back down to the chair and move it once again. It seemed a draining process but it was one that Ilsa could not help in the slightest.

"Ah gut, gut," she said with a satisfied smile on her face. One would think, after completing her daunting task, she would pause and offer greeting to the man she was assigned to but no, she instead began taking decorations off the walls and relocating those as well. An intense expression fell on her face once Ilsa realized that she had no means of securing the pictures in their new locations.

"Ah, vould you happen to have schomething I can use to put zis picture up vith, hm," Ilsa questioned Matthias with a sweet smile and an open expression.

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And then came the most difficult situation that Ilsa had to deal with in a very long time. She wanted so badly to hang the picture up where it should have been hung before but now Matthias was asking for her name. When one asked for a name it was custom to shake hands with that person. How could she shake hands with Matthias and place the picture on the wall at the same time, without a means of securing it to the wall as well. Her expression turned from a sweet one to panic.

The woman's chest began to heave with anxiety and Ilsa also kept looking from the picture in her hands to Matthias. She could feel an attack about to occur and needed to fend it off for as long as she could. After all, this man in front of her, so wrongly positioned in the chair he was sitting in, was going to be her partner on the field. It must have been at least a full minute of silence before Ilsa walked over to the wall and slowly set the picture down on the floor. Even after, she still hesitated and kept moving as if to reach for the painting again to move it to a more proper place, but fought the impulse.

With much discomfort, Ilsa turned from the wall and faced Matthias, then walked towards him not too long afterward. "I am Ilsa Reinhardt. You vere told about me, ja? Dey said dey vould inform you before I get here," Ilsa said while extending her hand ... or attempting to at least. It was a very difficult task for the Belkan woman to touch another person but she was getting better. It took her three times to hold out a steady hand and not retreat it back towards her person. All the while, Ilsa kept smiling as if nothing was wrong at all.

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A glance was tossed over her shoulder back towards the large frame which still sat on the floor. Her left foot moved unconsciously as if to travel towards it but Matthias gripping her hand for the completion of their greeting stopped Ilsa. A frown touched her face for a short moment and she refocused her attention back onto the man. Though it wasn't his eyes that she met but the lapel of his suit coat which was ever so slightly misplaced.

"Das gut. I vould radder meet vith you as vell instead of vaiting ... " There seemed to be more of that sentence but it was cut short due to the itch to fix Matthias' suit. Ilsa's right eye twitched and her fingers almost moved towards him.

" ... vaiting for you to come to me," Ilsa finally finished though her gaze never faltered. "Ah, vould you fix zat," she asked while raising a single finger to his blazer, her eyes still not wavering. It seemed she was frozen and would remain so until Matthias did something about the situation. And as if to make matters worse, Ilsa then remembered the painting waiting for her, leaning against the wall waiting for its rightful home. She drew her eyebrows together in a tight knot and frowned deeply.

It was without question that Ilsa was an odd woman—one that would be working side-by-side in the Landwächter with Matthias for a long while.

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Ilsa seemed quite satisfied that Matthias had fixed his lapel and felt a bit more comfortable talking with him as it was now perfect. However, that was crushed when his tie was moved out of center, creating even more frustration in the woman. She sighed in annoyance and then raised her finger again to point at his tie, even though Matthias had just "fixed" it. "Your tie ist ... ist not gut. Vill you fix zat too," Ilsa asked with her annoyance reflecting in her voice.

The words of Matthias finally came through as soon as Ilsa was finished telling him about his askew cravat, and she finally looked up at him. The woman nodded in affirmation though Ilsa refused to move until she saw the tie put back into its proper place. Her right foot began to tap nervously and her left hand gripped at the fabric of her pants, loosely. It would just push Ilsa over the edge if she created a single wrinkle in her suit. Disastrous. Apocalyptic even.

Ilsa began to walk towards the picture but she could not turn her eyes away from Matthias' tie. It caused her to bump into his desk but she ignoring the sharp corner stabbing into her thigh. There were more dire and important things to deal with first other than pain.

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Ilsa released a quiet sigh and shook her head. "Nein," she commented softly and walked towards Matthias. There was a good pause from the time she stood in front of him before Ilsa actually reached across the good bit of distance between them and straightened the tie herself. At least that process only took a few seconds, but afterwards she was quick to withdraw her hands from Matthias, remove her gloves, and then place them in the trash bin.

Removing another pair of white gloves from her pocket, Ilsa then moved towards the relocated desk and removed the tools necessary to hang the picture on Matthias' office wall. Walking to the center of the room, she stood there for a moment calculating the exact location where the nail would be inserted. After nodding to herself, Ilsa walked to the wall and placed the nail precisely where intended. And then a strange event took place.

Ilsa had let go of the nail, but with a bit of concentration, it did not move from its parallel position on the wall. This allowed both of the woman's hands to be free when using the hammer in order to strike the nail into the stud behind the wall. After a few moments, Ilsa placed the hammer on Matthias' desk—in the most perfect of locations of course—and finally hung the picture on his office wall.

"Das gut, ja," she asked Matthias before turning her gaze towards him. A smile graced her lovely face once again and it seemed that most of her tension had finally faded away. "You must have some sings you vant to discuss, ja?"

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"Untersturmführer ist meine rahnk," Ilsa commented with a hint of pride in her voice and her smile seemed to grow a little more jubilant as well. It was obvious that she was proud of her hard work and study. "Do you not vant to read vat zee report has to zay about me," Ilsa asked while pointing to her dossier. How could he have not read it by now. Not knowing the details of someone that was going to be your partner for an extended time would have drove Ilsa to the breaking point.

"Ah, und I am lookink forward to vorkink vith you, Hauptsturmführer. I am gut partner," the woman said while continuing to stand, hands clasped behind her back loosely and with a ridged posture. It was a wonder if the woman was never not so ... formal in everything that she preformed. Ilsa then took a moment to scan her surroundings once more, judging the position of every detail. She found it mostly suitable aside from one small ... tiny detail: the chair Matthias was sitting in.

Again that dead stare came to her expression and Ilsa pursed her lips into a thin line. It probably left wonder as to what was bothering the woman this time.

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"Vell," she started out and tilted her head slightly to the right," vere you are sittink. It ist nicht vere it schould be. Zee chair," she finished while moving her gloved hand once again and pointing to the furniture Matthias was perched in. "Nein, nein, ist okay, ja," Ilsa then said with a laugh that sounded like it was definitely not 'okay'. It had to be fixed. Immediately. It was as if the woman could not help herself.

Ilsa crossed the distance between them uttered a simple,"Entschuldigen Sie bitte," before placing her hands on the chair and moving it just a fraction to the left while Matthias was sitting in it. Usually it would have taken a good bit of effort for a woman to move a man who was dead weight but for Ilsa with a sliver of concentration, it was quite easy. She stepped back and wrapped a few fingers around her chin while studying the man before her. That smile touched her lips again and Ilsa hopefully would finally calm down. Surely there was nothing else left in the room that was out of place, even by a fraction.

"Do you like vat I did vith your office, hm?"

Saying no was not an option. It was at optimal performance and had reached the approval of Ilsa.

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"Gut. Please, I no mean to do zis but I can no help zis. I must do ist," Ilsa said with a bit of embarrassment for the first time. Throughout her entire escapade in Matthias' office she had not shown one hint of remorse of what she was doing until that very moment. "I try to sctop but I no can do ish. Meine head," she said while touching her temple with the tips of her fingers, "ist fery complicated. Ist makes many people fery uncomfortable. I hope I did no make you ahngry". And Ilsa had meant it. The woman truly did hope that she had not touched a nerve with Matthias and set their business relationship down a negative path already. It was usually how anything between anyone began. Her condition was the sole reason that Ilsa did not have any close friends or even relatives.

"Ist zere anyzing you vish to know about me," she asked and awaited any question that Matthias might have to ask.

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By all that was Kampf, why, oh why did Matthias have to shift in his seat. Did he not understand that movement meant that clothing would get distorted and shifted around to incorrect positions. This was driving Ilsa absolutely mad and making her more fidgety than she had been in months. The woman lifted a finger and pressed it against her lips, holding back a sigh as her blue eyes dropped from Matthias' gaze and down to his uniform.

"I am frahm zee," Ilsa said behind her finger while her free hand clenched into a fist. It was so irresistible, the urge. It was that feeling of needing to move but being confined and knowing that you can't move; having an itch that you could not scratch. Ilsa moved towards Matthias once again and attempted to push him back against his chair so that she could fix his clothing once more. All the while that intense expression came upon her lovely face as always when in such a fit.

"... Tauplitz Distrikt," Ilsa finally answered his question while continuously running her gloved hands down his torso. Not that it was an intimate touch or one that insinuated any sort of personal relationship between the two, Ilsa just could not stand anything being out of order. However, if Matthias perceived it as such was another subject entirely. One's thoughts were their own and belonged solely to them, unless well, they were people such as Matthias and Ilsa. Nothing was safe without the proper precautions.

"You zit still und do not move," the woman demanded, brow still furrowed and annoyed that he had even shifted a fraction.

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Now sitting on her knees before Matthias, Ilsa removed her eyes from the man's coat and made eye contact. "Not too long ago. I graduate at zee top of class. It ist hard for me to not vant everysink to be perfeckt. But zat ist obvious, ja," Ilsa said with a sigh and hung her head for a moment, platinum hair falling about her face. "It ist a burden but it ist also a blessink too," the woman admitted while placing her hands flat on her thighs and examined the perfect shade of white that her gloves were.

Ilsa then looked up at Matthias and asked him a question in return," How long has ist been for you? Did you go to Akademy too?"

Once the question was asked, Ilsa looked down at her gloves once more and frowned. Those too would have to be disposed of due to touching another person. She did not like touching people and did not like keeping things that had touched other people. If there was a single thing which would force Ilsa to show any anger whatsoever, it was when someone had moved or made any kind of contact with her belongings. Methodically, Ilsa began to remove the white gloves, pinching the fingers and pulling them off. Yet instead of tossing them away, she held them in her hands for a time longer and then tucked them into her pocket. It wasn't long after that the woman pulled out a fresh pair (exactly how many she had was a mystery) and pulled that pair over her lithe fingers.

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The gloves settling into the bottom of her pocket—the ones that had touched Matthias—began to weigh heavy and it was unsettling for Ilsa.

"Entschuldigung," was all she said before standing up and dismissing herself from the room without another single word. Thus ended the first meeting for Matthias and Ilsa; the beginning to a long partnership.

The setting changes from the-inner-empire to Gambit's Bar

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It was a wonder how in the world that Ilsa could keep her sanity the way she did while on the job—assisting Matthias that was, at least that is what appearances first spoke. It was hard to be apart from her boss, especially in such a place as Gambit's Bar and definitely because of her condition. Somehow though, Ilsa managed to keep as calm as she could. If anything, the woman merely appeared nervous or paranoid about the variety of patrons in the bar.

"Danke," she said kindly to the robotic bar keep after drinks were ordered and delivered with haste by the metallic staff. It took no time for Ilsa to reach Matthias' side, allowing just her arm to brush against his for comfort. It had taken a long time for her to actually accept contact with the man, but every day was a step towards easier touch. After all, as often as they worked together, she had to be entirely trustworthy of him and set aside the burdens of her compulsive mind.

"Here is your drink, sir," Ilsa said while offering the glass to him, head slightly bowed as if to show all others around them her subordination towards Matthias. The woman passed a glance toward Reznov and gave him a sweet, innocent looking smile in greeting but offered no words. After all, it was Matthias' right to speak to him and not hers. Not at first at least.

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Ilsa also noticed the man brandishing a knife and glanced towards Matthias but for a second in time. She seemed even more nervous than before, and pressed even more firmly against Matthias' arm discreetly. When the two started yelling at each other, she couldn't help but turn her gaze away.

"Please," the woman said softly. "I am not comfortable with this ... can you not fight. It is not good for anyone here, yes?" Hopefully she was heard over Reznov's and Daniel's loud voices.

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It wasn't seconds after Matthias had turned her away from the hostility that Ilsa felt an odd sensation on her clothing—the back of her white suit. It was as if someone had thrown a drink on her suit but that was not the case whatsoever. She had heard the bang and Ilsa could easily guess what was now splattered all over her clothes. The woman froze into a dead stillness with eyes opened wide in shock. Fingers instantly shot out for Matthias' arm and gripped his blazer tightly.

Every muscle in the woman's body tensed harshly and Ilsa trembled. It was not because of the suicide however, but because there was blood on her body. Blood that belong to another person which could possibly carry untold diseases. A scream was held in the back of Ilsa's throat but she was not sure if she was going to release it or be sick first.

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Ilsa did not register that Matthias was still directing her to a better location—one well away from the self-inflicted carnage. She couldn't hear the on-goings of the bar. Not the shouting of Daniel, the conversations which were still on going despite the gunshot. All the woman could focus on was that she was covered in bodily fluids from a Terran. It was on her clothes, one her neck, in her hair, the backs of her ears, everywhere. Ilsa's breathing became erratic and frantic.

Resisting Matthias' lead, Ilsa stood strong and remained there. It wasn't a second later that she began to take off her coat in any way that she could, tears springing up into her eyes. Her heart was beating so quickly, Ilsa was sure it was going to burst from her chest and land at Matthias' feet. Quieted sobs came forth from between her lips and knees became weak. If not for her grip on Matthias—her current anchor to sanity—Ilsa would have collapsed upon the floor and lost utter control of herself. And that was something to be avoided at all costs.

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Crystalline blue eyes finally met Matthias' gaze and the woman went entirely still. Too still. Her grip on the man relaxed and Ilsa's hand fell from his body limply. Something in the air felt horribly wrong as Ilsa was not the type to just calm down without a laborious process, Matthias knew this all too well.

Placing a hand on the man's chest, Ilsa pushed Matthias away none too gently and turned around slowly to face Daniel. A sweet smile spread across her more than lovely face and she glided over to him.

"Please, don't cry," Ilsa said in a coo; a tone of concern. "Shh," she whispered as the woman stood over him. Ilsa reached out a hand as if to run fingers through his hair—gloves still intact.

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"Death is not so bad. I have seen it with my own eyes. It is a peaceful place of rest and acceptance. There is much joy to be had when entering into death. A permanent removal of one's sorrow, grief, and rejection from all. It is a world that one can create with their own hands and have bend to their own will," Ilsa said in her beautiful voice—alluring and entrancing voice. It made those with open minds feel calm and at ease with themselves, and allowed them to feel loved.

"Do you not want to see it. I know you do. I can hear it in your heart. You do not want to live in this world anymore. You wish to create worlds with a mere thought and hold power beyond any can imagine in the palm of your hand. Does that not sound beautiful, Daniel, sweet Daniel," Ilsa purred into the man's ear softly, coaxing him even more into a relaxed state, sending a telepathic message to his mind to become tired and feel the heaviness of sleep in his limbs.

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Ilsa dropped down to her knees at the man's feet and looked up at him with innocent and beautiful eyes.

"I don't understand. I thought we were going to go to Paradise together, Daniel," Ilsa said while tears glittered like diamonds in her eyes. "Do you not want to spend eternity with me and create beautiful things together?"

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Slowly the woman rose from her submissive position on the floor and laughed a dark and sinister laugh. It took not even a second for the woman to pick up the forgotten weapon, and wield it at Daniel.

"Oh but you have no choice no. You have made your decision and you must pay for the consequences of your actions pathetic creature," Ilsa said before taking perfect aim while Daniel was still in close range. It was no effort to pull the trigger and send a bullet aimed at his back, directly where his heart would have resided. If one could dodge such a bullet, they would be nothing short of a god themselves for no human or machine could escape such an attack by the laws of nature.

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It was all too easy to walk over to the man where he had fallen.

"You disgust me, mortal," Ilsa said before pulling the trigger until no more rounds remained, aiming dead straight at Daniel's skull.

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It made no matter whether what kind of creation Daniel was for Ilsa was not as she seemed either. She was a far more powerful human beneath the innocent and sweet person she appeared to be. There were greater beings at work, weaving the threads of fate and they would have Daniel into their realm.

As if invisible fingers stretched outwards to Daniel, they attempted to weave their way into him—into the very core of his being—grasping at the material embodiment of the man. It was a force which Ilsa held, and a powerful one at that. None could contest the Ancient which possessed the woman unless they themselves were of Ilsa's number. This was not the doing of a woman, but the demon which resided in the soul she bared. If Daniel did not hold a demon, he would be utterly powerless to what was about to transpire against him: utter destruction and an ultimate death.

Ilsa's grin only grew more wide and more demonic whilst pouring the vast stores of her unknown power so that escape was not possible from those ethereal fingers.

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And indeed it was the end for Daniel.

Those invisible fingers grasped on the very innards of the man, collecting into their grasps the parts of him which were still human. And as if harboring a bomb within himself, Daniel exploded outwards in a hail of blood, machine, and bodily parts. However, it did not end there. The mutilation of his body continued still for the demon within Ilsa was not satisfied. The woman bent low over the disemboweled body, took Daniel's jaw in hand and skull in the other. With strength that was beyond her own, Ilsa pulled apart the two bones and the metal that held it together with a loud and resounding crack that echoed off the walls of the otherwise silent bar.

As the top of Daniel's cranium came free with that sickening crunch and pop, Ilsa took it between her hands and crushed it betwixt her fingers until it was nothing more than scrap metal, brain matter, and blood. What had been the man's eyes rolled free, escaping from the torment, and travelled along on the floor until they met the bar counter. Ilsa still did not stop there. Limbs were torn from the body, bones removed from their dermal shell causing more sickening pops as sinew tore from ligaments and skin.

Standing up to view her artistic work, Ilsa tilted her head to the side ever so slightly. Blood painted her face such a bright shade and contrasted heavily against her porcelain flesh. And then with a last heave of her Ancient's desire, the remaining torso of Daniel ripped apart into shreds to scatter across the bar in a fount of blood, bone, and metal.

Once it was done, the woman stood there ... and laughed.

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#, as written by Prose
The being forced Ilsa's body to stop moving towards the exit of the room and turn to face the mortal man which was none too far from its puppet. The dead eyes of Ilsa stared emotionlessly at Matthias and it spoke to him. "I can smell your fear. Do not be afraid. Your time has not come yet," The Ancient said before releasing its hold on Ilsa. As soon as it had appeared, the possession was dormant again. Ilsa seemed to heave a great sigh and then collapsed upon the floor, her body weak and spent. Not an once of strength was left to the woman and she was not even able to stand on her own two feet.

Her consciousness snapping back from the depths of where they had been forced, Ilsa looked up at Matthias and tears rolled down her cheeks. It was the expression of pure shame, horror, and sheer terror. One moment she was looking to Matthias for comfort and solace from the blood on her suit and the need to be clean. Now though, now she was mortified of the carnage surrounding here which Ilsa could see from her peripheral vision. She dared not to focus on the details but remained staring at Matthias.

"Oh God ... "

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Character Portrait: Ilsa Reinhardt
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#, as written by Prose
The Belkan woman could hardly support herself even with Matthias' assistance. Every inch of Ilsa trembled against the man while red painted fingers desperately clung at his collar. She dared not to deviate her eyes away from Matthias. "Ist alles in Ordnung," Ilsa asked Matthias with great concern in her voice and fear. If anything had happened to him, she would be crushed. He was a dear friend to her and the only friend that had stayed by her side. Whether that was from the duty they preform, or for personal reasons, it mattered not for the woman. It was the fact that Matthias cared at all.

And then Ilsa burst into more tears and pressed her face into his shoulder where it was safe. It was the first time in an entire year that Ilsa could touch the man and not have her compulsion force her to immediately strip herself of her gloves or any clothing that had touched Matthias. It was a milestone and one that may never be experience ever again. For that small moment, she felt in control of her mind and actions. It was apparent that she was not going to let him go any time soon, even to remove herself from the grave that Gambit's had become.