Liebe ist die Droge

[Raushan Ilyinichna Kaptsova]

Raushan gasped as she broke the surface of the water. Cold air stinging her throat and lungs as she feebly attempted to get on the thicker ice. Feeling a strong grip on her she was practically thrown on to the ice and to safety. She turned quickly seeing Tristan struggling a bit. He seemed to drag his body on to the safer surface, already showing symptoms of hypothermia. Raushan's limbs were already numb and hard to move, she cursed herself in her head as Tristan crawled over to her.

"Yes I'm fine..."she said pausing for a moment, "W-we need to get somewhere warm...s-start a fire or something to get ourselves dry." she murmured between shivers.

She slid a bit, struggling to get to her feet. She kept thinking she didn't want to die here over and over willing herself to move. She Tugged at Tristan urging him to try and move. God she desperately wanted to call him an idiot for making them go out on the ice in the first place. Well, she thought if they were able to make out of this disaster alive she'd tell him. Constantly. That is if they hypothermia doesn't get to them first.

Raushan gave Tristan a gentle shove, "W-we have to move." she said trying to control her shivering. She began calculating how much time they had left before their bodies began to shut down. God dammit!! she thought, glancing at Tristan, "Please?" she said in a more gentler tone.

(Sorry Herman, life kinda blind sided me out of nowhere, but here! I posted! Better late than never no? Again sorry if the post is rather short and I wasn't satisfied with it XD plus...might as well let Tristan gain her trust if he's gonna find out what she truly is XD)

[Tristan Herman]

Taking only a few moments to breathe wet, hoarse, scalding cold breaths, Tristan heeded Roseline's urges, rising to his knees shakily, and moved clumsily toward the woman, pulling her up under arm, and escorting her slowly to the edge. He had to keep moving lest he tense up and freeze to death in place. She seemed to be doing worse than him, though.

As their feet hobbled onto the shore and compacted the snow, Tristan struggled to find his boots in the deepening snow, sliding them on clumsily after a few moments of scrambling, sweeping motions through the frigid powder. As he finally slipped them on (painfully) it occurred to him that Roseline was wearing significantly less than he; be they waterlogged, his clothing would warm over time with his body-heat, and her skin would simply freeze in the night-air.

He rose to his feet, wobbly-kneed, and extended a hand to her, her pumps in the other. In a single strained motion, he scooped her slightly smaller form up, wrapping her arms around his neck and his hand under the height of her calves. His remaining hand cradled the small of her back, still loosely holding on to her pumps.

“Just hold on tight; you'll heat up faster this way,” Tristan stuttered through chattering teeth. He shook his head, and produced a weak smile as his wet hair insisted upon remaining in place along his brow, half-frozen. He paid it little mind and started off back toward the outskirts of Munich, intent on hailing a cab.



It seemed some form of luck was still on his side that night. Within ten minutes walking distance from the lake, Tristan was able to procure a cab to take them to Roseline's hotel in the inner-city (by way of her instruction of course). The whole way, he clutched her tight, refusing to let go. Not because he was scared...well, a little, but out of regret; it really had been a stupid, fantastic idea to trot out onto that ice. No wonder he was so completely mundane in the eyes of the average woman, he-

Ignore it. He thought to himself. Roseline was the only concern right then and there. Making sure she didn't freeze to death came first. Grovelling was a mandatory supplement.

As the Mercedes' breaks whined and the car stopped, Tristan handed the man a series of sopping wet Reichmarks, insisting the man “keep the change” over his now soaked back seat. As he stepped out of the vehicle, Tristan once more scooped Roseline up, and struggled to the lobby-door, opened by an attendant for him. It was the Kempinski, one of the most upscale hotels in the city, catering to anyone and everyone who could afford it with the utmost regard. Roseline was certainly no poor Bavarian country girl.

With some brief instruction, she was able to direct him up the grand stair-case to the third floor, and to her room (the key had been retrieved from the lobby clerk). It took some interesting finagling, but he managed to open the door whilst maintaining a good hold on her. As he pushed the chestnut door inward, he fumbled for the light switch, pushing it up with his elbow and kicking the door closed with his foot, before making his way to the bed, and laying her down onto the mattress with great care, and dropping her pumps to the red carpeting.

”I'll get you some towels from the bathroom. Do you have a change of clothes,” he asked, starting off for the bathroom by the entry.


[[Oh. Ow. That post just felt...sub-par... I don't know why.]]

[Raushan Ilyinichna Kaptsova]

Raushan gripped Tristan as he hoisted her to her feet. Her legs felt like jelly of some sort, her muscles already seemed to strain a bit as she tried to walk, but instead she felt as though Tristan was taking most of her weight and merely dragged her to safety. She stood in the ankle deep snow, surprised that she's still able to stand.

She clutched her shoulders tightly, unable to stop shaking. She rubbed her shoulders gingerly desperately trying to get warm. She watched from the corner of her eye as Tristan struggled to slip on his boots. When he did she watched him pick up her pumps with one hand and extend the other towards her.

Reluctantly she pried her cold fingers from her shoulder and took his hand, within moments she found herself in his arms, automatically wrapping her arms around his neck before he told her to do so. She buried her face in the nap of his neck, teeth chattering and shaking. His sent instantly filled her nostrils, though he smelled more of lake water now. She glanced up wearily seeing him force a smile, she tried to do the same cept it came out more crooked than reassuring.

To their luck there happened to be a cab near by, it didn't seem to take Tristan too long to get the cab driver's attention. Once in the cab, she gave directions to the cab driver to the kempinski hotel. She shivered again curling up next to Tristan for warmth during the car ride. Her head felt like there was a thick fog obscuring her train of thought, I need to get out of these soaked clothes soon, she thought, her mind wondering about her papers and ration card, Well, shit...now it's at the bottom of a lake. Raushan groaned a bit as the cab came to a stop.

Dazed she watched Tristan fumble a bit with a few Reichmarks, handing it to the cab driver before picking her up again, "I-I can walk you know."she mumbled in protest. She knew it was useless he wasn't going to put her down till he knew she was safe. Thankfully after a bit of explaining they were able to get the key to her room, "It's on the third floor to your left, should be the second to last door..."she said as Tristan carried her up the stairs.

Sure enough Tristan followed her instruction perfectly and they were able to make it to her room in well one piece. She held on to him tight as he kicked the door closed with his foot before gently putting her down on her bed. She heard a thump guessing he dropped her shoes on the floor somewhere; she nodded in reply when Tristan said he was going to get some towels.

Alone, Raushan sat up and changed out of her wet clothes into another beige dress slip. She took one of the throw blankets and wrapped it around herself, blowing warm air into her cold palms. She wondered how she was going to thank Tristan for saving her. Though, she would have saved herself if given the chance. She was at least thankful Munich did not suffer from the winters back in the Soviet Union.

Even when wearing layers one could still feel the chill of the General Winter. Raushan grumbled a bit pulling the blanket closer around herself, blowing a piece of her damp hair away from her face.

( the post is fine..XDD)

[Tristan Herman]

A faint rustling, an idle groan, and the sound of wet fabric peeling away from flesh signaled to the young man that his date was already changing in the main room. Seeing as to how easy it was to discover a set of towels in the average hotel bathroom, Tristan found himself actually pretending to be unable to find them for a moment, urging himself along to avoid a thoroughly embarrassing moment. That was the last thing he needed: to be kicked out of the hotel's considerable warmth wearing a soaked wool uniform. His still relatively nervous demeanor forced him to take hold of the lot of towel from the rung, and begin drying his hair to pass the time.

After a minute or so had passed he half-walked, half-trembled his way into the main room, dumping the majority of the towels on the bed next to Roseline whilst handing a solitary article to her. She'd already taken to getting warm; smart of her to do so. But it wouldn't heat her up very quickly.[/i]

“I'll go run you a hot bath. The blanket will only do so much. If they charge for it here, I'll pay for your trouble. This is more or less my fault after all.” He found himself forcing a stupid smile once more. He was glad not to be famous that night. A passing journalist might happen by and snap a shot only to ruin his nickname entirely.

He hurriedly returned to the bathroom, taking a towel with him to begin drying his hair with while he waited for the water to reach a comfortable temperature, waving an solitary hand under the running flow. He somehow had ignored the painfully cold temperature of his clothing and relative discomfort imposed by a wet shirt. At the thought he decided (since was wearing his undershirt) to at least remove his jacket. His free hand, finger and thumb, released each button from it's place and removed the belt tapering the uniform to his waist. As it squished and squashed, peeling from his body like wet paper-mache, he couldn't help but shiver as the cold air “blew” on his moist pale flesh (already a shade of blue). As the jacket fell off of him, his suspenders likewise were snagged and dropped to his waist.

Much better, he thought. But what happened next? The evening had been more or less ruined by this event. At least it probably had been in Roseline's eyes. The chances of him getting a follow-up visitation or something of the like were slim and none he conjectured. Regardless of the seeming fact, he was going to at least leave gracefully while she bathed. It would avoid the awkwardness of her leaving the bathroom half-naked in a towel and hearing an ultimate rejection from the woman. Manners and chivalry dictated that he at least leave her a note though. Something thoroughly apologizing to her for basically wasting her time.

“Water's ready, Roseline,” he called.


[[Feel free to intercede anywhere you see fit or character control. I didn't want to drag it out, so I just left any number of opportunities for her to intercede, let him run off, or chastise him. Hope that's alright by you. C: ]]

[Raushan Ilyinichna Kaptsova]

"Wait..." she stammered, a bit not really wanting to go near any sort of body of water at the moment. Again it was no use to protest, Tristan seemed to have the mind set that she needed a warm bath. Although it was a good plan, Raushan was being a tad...ok maybe not a tad; very reluctant to get into a bath while a Nazi prowled her flat. She eyed Tristan for a moment watching him disappear into the bathroom. She looked around, sighing with relief that she had hidden anything that could blow her cover. The last thing she wanted was him finding out that she wasn't German.

Tristan seemed nice....she thought it would be a shame if she had to kill him. If she wanted to kill him, this would be the greatest opportunity to do so. Use his death to cover up any tracks she may have carelessly left and disappear. She gritted her teeth a bit calculating every move she might have to make just to get rid of Tristan. She already knew being with him would be troublesome, killing him now would be in a way god sent and a far less horrid fate that could await him if he were caught with a NKVD agent.

She shook her head trying to block out the thought of killing him. If she wanted to she couldn't, she's grown a bit too attached to this German. Was she really falling for him??

She frowned slightly taking the towel Tristan handed her earlier and began to dry her hair. Peaking out from under the damp towel she heard Tristan say the bath was ready. She stood letting the blanket slip off her sloping shoulders, she held the towel in one hand and padded her way towards the bathroom. Her gaze fell on Tristan seeing that his pale skin was more of a blueish color. She arched her eyebrow lightly seeing his soaked uniform merely tossed aside.

She had to know, whether these feelings she had for Tristan were true.

"It's nice of you to prepare a bath for me." she said as she stood in the doorway. She waited a moment for Tristan to notice she was standing there. A playful smile crossed her blue tinted lips for a moment, shrugging her shoulder a bit, "But first I should at least thank you for saving me...."she said as she took a few steps towards him letting the towel slip through her fingers and on to the bathroom floor.

Forget Forget... she thought as her hands trailed up his chest,Here you are not a spy..., her hands grasped his jaw slowly, yet gently pulling his face forward, You're just Roseline. To him....at that moment her lips met his.

[Tristan Herman]

[[Attention all small, unaccompanied children (Danny), this thread will now be kinda', sorta', pretty graphic in a sexual sense. So if you've never done the normal high-school/secondary jazz of making out in the corridor or the front seat of your car, be prepared.]]

[[Edit: Never mind, this is now an R thread.]]



For a split second, Tristan was so taken aback that he nearly fell backward into the steaming hot bath water, only stopping himself just in time with a quick adjustment of his footing. As she led their lips back together, he couldn't help but draw a deep, surprised breath, closing his eyes again. As she brought him closer, his hand that had been maintaining the faucet mindlessly closed the valve, stopping the flow of water, before shakily (more out of shock of situation than body temperature now) making its way to Roseline's waist and grasping tight on her beige, skin-tight dress.

He felt what had to be instinct begin to egg him on. She wanted to be with him. She was making every other advance and move. He needed to suck it up, and realize that maybe, just maybe, he could make someone fall for him and his theatrical speech and awkward social tendencies.

Or maybe he just needed to stop thinking for a few minutes and love that exquisitely sensuous angel as best he could.

Tristan drew Roseline close to him, pressing their bodies firmly together and ignoring his still well clothing entirely. His right hand slid up her back, grasping her collar-bone, while the other lowered just below her hip-bone, clutching the furthest-north part of her behind. Don't be a little-boy about it, Tristan. You're a grown man, he thought, resolving to simply clasp her buttock. Meanwhile, he had somehow taken to snogging Roseline passionately, slowly backing her up toward the nearest wall and feeling his way to her right hand, intertwining their fingers, and bringing it up against the wall in a more dominant, yet force-less manner.

For a brief moment, he thought it might be a good idea to say something pleasant to her. Complement her eyes or the texture of her skin, something like that. Thankfully, it was a stupid notion, and his brain instead told him to do as he'd seen in the films and give her light, sensuous pecks all the way down to her neck. He began to kiss her nape, sensing that it was likely a good idea if Marlene Dietrich liked it on the silver screen. It was something of a silent embarrassment, a joke even amongst the snickering sections of his mind, that his ideas of romance and sexuality were derived from books, scientific publications, and films. He guessed he was doing something right though seeing as Roseline had yet to stop him (of course, she could simply be putting up with his meager efforts).

Getting braver, he moved his hand (the right, being unoccupied with her rear) to her body, shyly beginning to test the waters and touch and feel in whatever places seemed applicable and appropriate. Tristan returned to her lips as his chest increasingly felt like it was going to explode like dry wood in a bonfire. He brought his hazel eyes level with hers and took a momentary, longing look into her soul, and cracked one more smile.

“I'll be honest, I don't quite know what to do next,” he said in a somewhat suggestive tone before returning to her nape with his lips and tongue. He somewhat hoped she would make the first sure indicator that the situation was going exactly where he thought it was going.

Then his conscious smacked him across the frontal lobe and told him he knew exactly what he was doing, and where this was going. So he interjected once more, bringing himself back to her face, resting the bridges of their noses together:

“So just bite me if I do something wrong,” he whispered, suddenly hiking her up against the wall, bringing the woman to a straddle, and then placing her hind atop the white marble counter of the sink, grasping a thigh and the back of her head as his fingers ran their way through the wet, deep brown mane.



[[“Fifty Shades of Gray”. I love Mac.]]

[Raushan Ilyinichna Kaptsova]

Raushan didn't want to go too fast, knowing he may potentially shy away...though as they kissed; it felt as if something changed a bit. He was in a way a bit more confidant and forward with his actions...seeing as his hand latched on to her rear. She kinda figured this was the first time he touched a woman in this manner...her eyes fluttered open a bit, muffling a laugh as she pulled away to catch her breath. After a few seconds she quickly pulled him back to her lips, feeling his grip recede from her rear...exploring every inch of her curves...rising and falling like lazy hills.

Reluctantly followed Tristan's lead, letting him gradually draw her close without stopping the kiss. Her body flush hot against his wet-clothed chest as they backed up against the bathroom wall. Her hand that wasn't currently occupied with his, trailed from his jaw, hesitating for a moment before cupping the back of his neck to deepen the kiss. Within a few seconds...what seemed like hours of lip locking, Tristan pulled away and began peppering soft kisses down her slender neck. She sucked in a slow breath exhaling softly as he did. Her eyes fluttered half liddledly, letting Tristan take control for the time being.

Her head screamed at her, cursing in Russian anything to will her to stop him...it was so wrong and yet at the same time so right. She knew this....EVERYTHING she was doing at this moment would have her sent to the gulag back in Russia. Though, regardless how much her mind and conscience would protest...she couldn't find the will or more actually the strength to stop Tristan anyway.

She winced a bit more out of surprise as Tristan began exploring her body... or more so testing to see how far he could touch her without getting a slap to the face and kicked out of the flat itself. In a way...it was some what gentle...before she knew it his lips were back on her's. The mere sensation was witch craft...addicting in some sort of way...in any way she couldn't describe it, but...she had to give him credit it was much better than the kiss on the frozen lake.

Raushan opened her eyes a bit as Tristan pulled away again; resting the bridges of their noses together...she could feel his hot breath against her face, his eyes were like pools of hazel that seemed to suck her in some sort of daze or trance. She completely ignored Tristan as he stated he wasn't quite sure what to do next, only to find him again latched to her neck, making her sigh breathlessly...her eyes fluttering close again...trying to relish the moment; thinking that this would just be an intense make out session, Go figure.... she thought playfully.

Her eyes shot open, confused a bit as his tone seemed to be more confidant. Within moments she could no longer feel the cool floor beneath her feet; feeling herself being pushed up against the bathroom wall (again) with a low thud; then bringing her legs to straddle him and sitting her down on the marble counter.

She was a little put back by Tristan's forwardness but, eventually played along .

Her hand casually brushed up against the one that was gripping her thigh before resting her arm on his shoulder. Gradually she pulled him forward lacing her free hand into his hair.

[Tristan Herman]

Roseline was responding surprisingly well to Tristan's advances it seemed. Hell, by the end of the night, he would be cockier than a rooster at the rate he was going. When her fingers slipped into his long, out-of-regs deep brown hair, it was an added bliss that he could not help but be thankful for. It was a fond feeling he'd experienced only a handful of times in his life before, and the occurrence was welcomed nigh as much as Roseline's soft lips melding into his own. If she was not the purest definition of sexuality and romance, he didn't know what was. Roseline was the kind of woman he'd imagined only in stories from men in his unit during late-night sentry duty. Except Roseline...she was a panther. She was more beautiful than any word could describe, sexier than any glossed-up movie star, and more real than any novelized seductress could ever be.

Intent fully on showing her that he wasn't entirely incompetent, regardless of his sexual experience, Herman began brushing his thumb along her thigh gently, eventually committing his palm to running the length of her smooth leg, inching further up her outer thigh until his fingers brushed the hemming on the beige, silken dress. His instinct and conscious continued to egg him on though, pressing him to finally slip his hand under the fabric and knead her curvaceous bottom intermittently, his fingers snaking up under the thinnest part of the black lace underwear every few passes.

He continued the motions for some time. Moving between french-kissing, rubbing noses, and tending to the various sensitive parts of the neck with his lips while his remaining hand (unoccupied with her rear) gently massaged the flesh around her right breast, a thumb brushing up against it teasingly every few seconds just long enough to send a presumptive shiver of warmth up and down her spine with pleasure. Becoming more and more entranced with her voluptuous, sensual form with each passing second, Tristan finally pulled their two bodies together, grinding himself against her while continuing to administer deep, impassioned kisses and massage her breast. It was a feeling like nothing he'd experienced in his life bordering on a term he only knew from the dictionary: ecstasy. The entire night had been a cavalcade of firsts with Roseline. First kiss, first touch, first...ANYTHING with a woman in his entire life. It seemed too real. Too good to be true, even.

Letting this continue for several minutes, Tristan was determined to keep her...invested...in the time they were spending together. He withdrew his tongue from her mouth, breathing gently as he made his way to her ear with small pecks before whispering to her with biting “s”s:

“Do you want me to carry you to the bed?” It was more or less rhetorical in nature. He wouldn't dare let her stop feeling what he was; that state of—of---euphoria should never be lost to anyone. He slid a hand behind him, indicating his intent with a gentle nudging of her leg, tightening it around his waist.


[[Feel free to character control to the bed if you so choose.]]

[Raushan Ilyinichna Kaptsova]

Raushan continued the intense lip locking feeling Tristan's hand trail up her thigh and graze the hem of her slip, then underwear. His cold fingers ever so slightly snaking past the hem of her laced underwear made shivers shoot up her spine.

Her arm that was resting against Tristan's shoulder trailed downward, giving his hand that was preoccupied with her rear a light squeeze as he pulled their bodies together. She groaned softly feeling pleasure coursing through her body as he grinded against her, her fingers entangling tightly into his damp hair, "Ahhhh..."she moaned between intense kisses.

The mere sensation was overwhelming....then again this was the first time in months since she's done this with a man. God...please don't make this stop... she thought clawing at Tristan's back a bit.

She whined a quietly as he pulled away, Why does he keep doing that! she wondered impatiently....feeling as though he was doing this to her on purpose. She frowned a bit thinking that he was teasing her; leaving small pecks against her ear before speaking again.

She laughed a little as he nudged her leg gently...dropping her hands against his chest, "Just....one thing..." she said in reply, biting down on his lower lip, "Tell me if you want me to stop...." she mused slipping her hands underneath his shirt; gradually beginning to pull it up. Her hands gliding against his chest leaving trails of soft kisses in it's wake guiding his under shirt upwards and over his head.

Casually she tossed the soaked shirt aside, draping her arms around his neck before pulling him to yet another deep kiss; tightening her legs around his waist as silent indicator she wanted him to carry her to bed.

[Tristan Herman]

With Roseline's favoring indication, given with the tightening of her strong thighs, Tristan smiled and pulled her from the counter-top, refusing to break the insatiable lip contact they'd so ferociously maintained the past few minutes. As they reached the mattress, Tristan guided Roseline down onto her back with his knee, eventually sprawling they're still interlocked forms (by way of Roseline's leg weaving around his) out longways on the bedspread.

He quickly took to disrobing the woman, taking hold of her dress once more at the hem and pulling upward, revealing her increasingly seductive form to his virgin eyes with every last exposed inch of flesh. Tristan soon found his own feet mindlessly working to remove his boots with frenzied finagling, How had he even made it this far with a woman such as her?

Whilst still attending to her soft lips, his hands wandered down to her hand to take hold of her wrist, moving it, suggestively, toward his belt. Leaving her appendage idle, quite confident in her abilities of deduction, Tristan drew his hands back to Roseline's pale cheeks, gently clasping them to draw their faces together, with heated breath pouring from either of their noses whilst their tongues danced and sparred with one another.

At last working his socks off, Tristan rolled the wet messes of fabric off the bed and to the floor, embracing the welcomed warmth of the hotel room. But, feeling some need to shorten the distance between their bodies, he pressed his feet against hers, rubbing and pressing with his individual toes. He still had no intent of simply allowing this night to end with him out of her embrace.

[Raushan Ilyinichna Kaptsova]

Raushan entangled her leg with Tristan's as he laid her down on the bed. Continuously running her pale fingers through his hair; messing it up as she did. The warmth of the kisses appeared to consume her with pleasure...kiss after kiss seemed to grow a bit rougher as they went on. Biting and nipping...his hot breath mixing with her's pushed her on edge...the mere sensation of their bodies against each other; made her crave to be closer to him as humanly possible.

Slightly she curved herself off the bed, making it easier for Tristan to remove the rest of the pesky dress, before pulling him forward into yet another intense kiss. The sheer impulse of the situation was driving her...or more so she wasn't really thinking about the fact that she's about to bed a Nazi (not that she hadn't before). It felt like more of a sheer rush of adrenaline...the feeling of danger she had around him just added to it...like wood to an open flame. This moment with Tristan seemed to strike her on a personal level...if not she would have killed him before hand.

Raushan fought a bit for dominance in the kiss, feeling Tristan's hand glide over her's---guiding it towards his belt. Raushan couldn't help but smirk within the kiss as Tristan clasped her face. She gripped his belt, looping her fingers playfully around it as she opened her eyes half liddedly. Pulling away briefly from the kiss, "I hope you know what you're asking for..."she said with a seductive roll of her tongue.

With that everything seemed to melt into darkness.

-------THE EPIC FADE TO BLACK------

[Heiko Alkema]

Moderation[/b]

Long thread is long.

Tristan Herman[/i] - 45CP

Raushan Kaptsova[/i] - 45CP
[/color]

And 4 skill points for all