Paper Thin || Ludwig

[Elizaveta Héderváry]

INFINITY (n.) the state of being limitless For three days now, Elizaveta had found herself buried in paperwork. With the stupid new event that her mother was planning ("Oh, but sweetie, you know how these things work...it'll be the perfect way to ah, showcase some of our talent"), Elizaveta had to set everything in place. The mutants, the cages, the arena...everything had to be built and it all had to be built perfectly. She had to talk to the guards about which mutants were to be shown, how the fights would be set up, who and what would be where and when. Not to mention the guards themselves...they'd have to have all hands on deck, and maybe even Elizaveta herself would have to fill in for a few of the airheads in this dump. Except, everyone was supposed to get a day off for the first day of festivities, and Elizaveta's mother was forcing her into a gown ("Show some pride, honey"). And that meant extra guards for the night itself, to watch over the Underground, to keep the mutants in place, and then some. Damn her mother. Elizaveta hated the woman. Money was hardly a problem (the government would see to the funding, it had to go perfectly of course), but the paperwork that Elizaveta had to fill out? The number of new guards that had to be signed on for two weeks, the people Elizaveta would have to contact to keep things peaceful, the arranging of which mutants should be brought out into the sun...that was all Elizaveta's work. And she was drowning in it. The final arrangements were being set in place. Elizaveta had personally gone to inspect the arena yesterday. However, there were more considerations. Certain mutants had to be given certain disadvantages based on their powers after all, which meant rearranging their cages. Still, that wouldn't have been too bad...if it hadn't come to this. This idiotic new idea that her mother had come up with. Her mother had decided that mutants looked too plain and sad, sitting in their cages. No, they had to be dressed up. "Make them look pretty." As if that was something one could just magically spin out of thin air. The outfits that had been sent in were horrid as well. They were meant to not just showcase the mutants, but make a fool out of them. It was disgusting in a way, not that Elizaveta hadn't seem more despicable acts in the Underground. Now, the Underground did provide clothing for the mutants, but nothing like this. This meant measurements, head to toe, bust, waist, shoe size, arm length...if the outfits weren't made to sag on the mutants of course. That was also a possibility. Elizaveta would have to call to double check on that. Preferably one of her mother's secretaries, she hated speaking to the woman herself. If measurements were required though (and Elizaveta wouldn't be surprised if they were), then that would mean a lot of restraining. Particularly of the mutants that were normally difficult. That would mean a lot of swearing and injured guards around the Underground... What a terrible, idiotic, stupid event. She was never going to be done with the paperwork. Elizaveta groaned. Drumming her fingers on the desk, she cast a side glance at the stacks and stacks of paperwork on her desk. She really needed help. At least someone else was deciding the matches, though she wasn't sure if that was good or bad. Who could she get to help her? Someone who would be decent enough company? ...Ah, she knew who. Elizaveta hadn't called him in for a while now, he'd probably enjoy the break. And she would as well. Reaching behind her desk, Elizaveta found the mini fridge she kept hidden out of sight and took out two cans of beer. Setting them on the desk, Elizaveta then picked up her radio. "Aleksander, bring me Beilschmidt." There was a pause before the radio crackled to life. "Which one? Ice boy or fireman?" Elizaveta rolled her eyes. "The more responsible one." She paused before clarifying further. "The younger one. Ludwig." "Got it." Elizaveta cracked open her own beer while looking at the stacks of paperwork, neatly organized into what they were being planned for. She couldn't just give Ludwig anything, and god forbid the outfit papers... No, it would be better for him to help her work out...work out what? Guard schedules? No, too risky. Double checking bills, ensuring that equipment was signed off on, maybe looking over the temporary guards that Elizaveta was hiring for the next two weeks. Of course, those were security liabilities as well, but Elizaveta could take a few risks here and there, couldn't she?

words 789 tags #Ludwig A. Beilschmidt notes Paperwork. unu

template by falkyrin

[Ludwig A. Beilschmidt]

baby you're a firestorm you're a loaded cannon

The gentle crackling of fire echoed in the cell, and Ludwig screwed up his eyes in concentration. Ever since he’d seen what Gilbert could do with ice, he’d been determined to learn to do similar things with fire. Unfortunately, while he wasn’t ready to admit defeat, he had to concede that fire didn’t cooperate like ice apparently did. It never held a shape for more than an instant and only stuck to things that didn’t readily burn when Ludwig forced it to. At the moment, he had lines of flame running up around the stone walls of his cell, as well as over his hands, but it took concentration. At least Ludwig had never had trouble with that. The loud bang against the bars of his cell made him jump, and the fire he’d been working so hard to maintain extinguished all at once. Darkness and cold filled in the places where it had been. Irritated, Ludwig turned to see who had rudely interrupted: a trio of guards stood in front of his cell, and the largest one had a nightstick resting incriminatingly against the bars. The guard gave the bars another tap. “Beilschmidt. Get up, we’re going for a walk.” Warily, Ludwig stood and walked over to the bars. A walk? There weren’t any fights today; he could tell by the atmosphere of the Underground. Feli had been taken to the infirmary to have his latest wounds tended to a bit more, but those wounds had been earned a while ago. But as much as he wanted to ask where they were going, Ludwig kept his mouth shut and his face solemn. He knew these guards, and while the youngest of the trio could be friendly, the other two didn’t like getting talked back to, nor did they like being told how to do their jobs. It wouldn’t have killed him to just say hello instead of hitting the bars, Ludwig thought as he put his hands behind his back and allowed one of the guards to cuff him through the bars of his cell, but I guess that would be too much effort. He couldn’t stand people who were lazy about things. Because he had a reputation for good behavior, Ludwig only required handcuffs. Handcuffs that would be ridiculously hard to melt, certainly, but some other mutants got tranquilized before being removed from their cells, so the German wasn’t complaining. A jingling of keys, and the door to his cell swung open with a rusty squeal. As Ludwig walked out into the hall, the two lower ranking guards took up positions behind him, while their supervisor led the way. As they walked, the blond snuck glances at the other cells, searching for familiar faces. Most of them housed only one mutant; some stood empty. Although he continued to look until they left the cell block, Ludwig's search turned up nothing. Wherever his friends and his brother had gone, he hoped they were happy. Instead of taking the path to the arena or the showers or the medical wards, the guards led Ludwig on a different route, passing through two security checkpoints on the way. This was the administrative section of the building, he now remembered, although it had been a long time since he'd last seen it. Before he could even wonder why he'd been taken here, the three guards led him up a flight of stairs and past a wooden door into an office, where a familiar woman sat behind a desk stacked high with papers. "Sit," one of the guards commanded, and Ludwig took the chair that sat in front of the desk without complaint. The man in charge produced a longer length of chain from his uniform; he looped that once around the chain of Ludwig's handcuffs before running it around a leg of the heavy desk and locking it securely together. The three guards took a step back. "If he gives you trouble, give me a buzz," the one in charge offered, before leading the way out of the office, followed by his two lackeys. Ludwig waited until the latch had clicked shut before relaxing a little. "I was wondering where they were going to take me," he admitted, glancing quickly around the place before meeting Elizaveta's eyes. Despite being both the head of the Underground guards and the governor's daughter, she had always made a good impression on Ludwig -- not that he got to see her much. "It's good to see you again, ma'am," he offered politely, before turning his eyes to the reams of paper covering every inch of free space. Countless forms and reports had been stacked into skyscrapers all over the place. "What's all this?" he asked, glancing back up. Word Count: 794 Tags: Elizaveta Héderváry Notes: Paperwork is right D:

by worldie for lena

[Elizaveta Héderváry]

INFINITY (n.) the state of being limitless Elizaveta glanced up as Ludwig came in with the guards. Three of them...she sighed. Ludwig was generally a well behaving mutant. Security didn't necessarily need to be this high for him. Now for his brother...Elizaveta resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Gilbert was a completely different matter. Elizaveta wondered briefly why Aleksander had sent unfamiliar guards to pick up Ludwig. Maybe he was busy. "Sit," one of the men said roughly. Elizaveta stayed silent as Ludwig sat down without complaint. One man took out a length of chain and looped it around Ludwig's handcuffs before tying it off around the leg of her desk. "If he gives you trouble, give me a buzz." Elizaveta could handle herself, thank you very much. Who were these men again? Probably newbies that Aleksander was giving a chance to prove themselves to. Elizaveta didn't need to see their show of bravado. It was honestly somewhat overkill. But security was security. Elizaveta would have endorsed it the first few times she had Ludwig come to her office, however, she had plenty of reason to believe the mutant wouldn't act out. He had, just like every long-term mutant around here, family and friends. He, like most mutants, wouldn't risk them for anything. Ludwig seemed to relax as the door swung shut. "I was wondering where they were going to take me," Ludwig remarked. He re-familiarized himself with Elizaveta's office. How long had it been since Elizaveta had called for his help? A few months, maybe longer. She didn't quite remember. "It's good to see you again, ma'am," Ludwig said politely. Elizaveta mentally contrasted the conversation with the one she had had with Gilbert a while ago. How completely different these two brothers were. Elizaveta smiled. "It's good to see you as well, Ludwig," Elizaveta said. She watched as Ludwig took in the mountains of paperwork on her desk before finally asking. "What's all this?" Elizaveta had been expecting curiosity. It was inevitable after all. She couldn't tell Ludwig much about the event her mother was planning nor let him leaf through the confidential papers, but there was certainly other everyday work that she could give him. "We're doing some renovations," Elizaveta explained. Technical truth. "There's going to be an event happening and the Governor is having me put everything in place." Elizaveta shook her hand at Ludwig's handcuffs. "That won't do." She reached into her boot and took out a key. Walking around her desk, she reached over and un-cuffed the man. "Remind me to put those back on before they come back for you. You'll have to help me out a bit...I've been neglecting the typical filing with this event." Elizaveta might trust Ludwig more than the rest of the mutants in the Underground, but when it came down to security, she wasn't going to be taking too many chances. She'd assign him the basic work and do most of it herself. She handed Ludwig a can of beer. Most of the mutants, even those who didn't drink much, could appreciate a cold can of beer. Ludwig was no different. "Drink up." Elizaveta turned back to the paperwork, her eyes skimming across the different piles. She'd have to do a lot of this paperwork herself, but...what could she give Ludwig? The temporary arena renovations. Those had to be double checked before she could fax them out to be signed by the appropriate parties. Filing...there were a few that had to be sorted into the appropriate folders. And there was the typical everyday sort of thing, the papers that needed to be shredded and dumped. "Here," Elizaveta said, offering the first stack of papers. "This one's just typical shredding and disposal...the norm. You could start working on that or you could..." Elizaveta flipped through some more files. "Alphabetical filing on the previous arena fights. Grunt work, unfortunately. If you can get that out of the way, it'd be great. I might have more interesting work if you finish that." How long could she keep Ludwig here for? Elizaveta figured no more than two hours. She settled back into her chair, drinking her own beer as she began to work through the paperwork for the actual event. There was simply too much...god, outfits. Elizaveta groaned inwardly. She had no interest in dressing the mutants up at all. It would most likely be random selection, unless there was a particular outfit that simply suited a mutant...what were the previously drawn up plans again? She sighed and rubbed her temple before reaching for her beer. "So, how have you been, Ludwig?" Elizaveta asked, trying to make conversation. It might not have been the most sensitive question, but it was really the only way to get a conversation started. Elizaveta had invited Ludwig here, might as well talk to him.

words 809 tags #Ludwig A. Beilschmidt notes It's really bad, sorry. ;;

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[Ludwig A. Beilschmidt]

baby you're a firestorm you're a loaded cannon

Trying surreptitiously to read the tiny print on the multitude of loose pages covering the desk, Ludwig looked hastily back up as Elizaveta began explaining. Curiosity or not, he wasn’t going to be rude. “Renovations?” he repeated, turning his gaze back to the gauntlet of bureaucracy. The Underground could certainly use a few upgrades, that much was certain. He’d lived in a few cells where he’d been able to pick tiny holes in the walls with only his fingers. It felt somewhat odd, admitting that his effective prison needed to be better at keeping mutants penned in, and Ludwig mentally shook himself. He had nowhere else to go, after all. Thankfully, the head guard mentioned an event next, and that piqued Ludwig’s interest again. Elizaveta’s vague explanation hinted that any questions he had about the event would be shot down, and so the German didn’t ask any. Rather, he let her explain and tried to formulate his own suspicions in his head. “That’s quite a lot of work for just one p— oh,” Ludwig lifted his hands up and rubbed his now-free wrists. The handcuffs had left bruises on his skin, but the marks didn’t hurt: unlike the rest of him, Ludwig’s pale skin just surrendered easily when it came to pressure. “Thank you. I don’t even need to ask why I’m here, in that case,” the blond added, making himself a little more comfortable in the chair now that his restraints were gone. The very first time Elizaveta had brought him to her office, he’d been on the edge of his nerves, terrified that he’d overstepped some unseen boundary and would now be forced to pay a heavy price. But it turns out that the guard had needed an extra hand, and rumors of Ludwig’s efficiency had reached her ears. He’d left the office that day feeling slightly more relaxed, even entertained thanks to the many new tasks he’d been assigned. Elizaveta’s summons were rare but never failed to be a welcome diversion in an otherwise boring day. Ludwig’s spirits lifted even further when she passed him an open beer; his eyes lit up visibly as he accepted the can. “I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this,” he spoke, only half in jest, but he raised the can in a toast before taking a long drink, realizing that he’d missed the taste of the cold, bitter, bubbly liquid more than he had thought. Putting the can aside (but close by) for now, Ludwig accepted the first ream of paper Elizaveta passed to him, scanning the title as she spoke. “This one’s just typical shredding and disposal…the norm. You could start working on that or you could…” Ludwig took advantage of Elizaveta’s pause in the conversation and dutifully placed a piece of paper in the nearby shredder, where the machine tore it into streamers with a mechanical hum. “Alphabetical filing on the previous arena fights. Grunt work, unfortunately. If you can get that out of the way, it’d be great. I might have more interesting work if you finish that,” the guard concluded, heading back to her chair. “I’ll do both,” Ludwig announced, and set to work. Keeping the piles of paperwork carefully separate, he fed the shredder a sheet of paper, then went about alphabetizing the fight records as the machine ate up the remains. In just a moment he’d set a good pace, keeping track of the fight records with his left hand and shredding documents with his right. Every so often a familiar name jumped out from the fight records, which threw him slightly off, but he didn’t linger; Elizaveta was trusting him to do these jobs without question and discretely, and he sated his curiosity only as far as he dared to. “So, how have you been, Ludwig?” The mutant glanced briefly up from the pile of paperwork in his lap. He couldn’t tell if Elizaveta was asking him honestly or just making small talk. He couldn’t read her expression; the poor woman merely looked stressed and tired. “I’m all right,” Ludwig offered, turning his eyes back down to the task at hand. “I got moved to a new cell, and I… I’ve met my cellmates before, so we get along well. It’s a nice break from how things usually go.” Gilbert’s name flashed passed his eyes on one of the sheets he was filing and he hastily found the correct place for it in the stack, not wanting to know whether his brother had won or lost that fight, how badly he’d ended up being hurt. He’d never be able to confront his brother properly about the arena matches: Gilbert laughed everything off like he always did and insisted that Ludwig worried too much. Feliciano’s records went to their proper places even faster; the German knew well that his friend hadn’t won a single fight. “Aside from that, I suppose I can’t complain. Everything’s been relatively normal,” he finished, stuffing a thick stack of papers into the mouth of the shredder and taking another long drink of beer as the machine struggled to bite through the files. “What about you? Please tell me this hasn’t been your life for the past few weeks.” He gestured to the skyscrapers of files on the desk. Elizaveta was an excellent person to put in charge, Ludwig knew that well, but she took her responsibilities seriously. Ludwig almost wished she would be fired, if only so she could have a break. And maybe someone far less competent would be put in her place and let the normally tight running of the Underground slack a little bit. Even if he doubted such a thing would run in favor of the mutants, it was hard for Ludwig to keep from wondering about it. Word Count: 1026 Tags: Elizaveta Héderváry Notes: I am so sorry for my slowness

by worldie for lena

[Elizaveta Héderváry]

INFINITY (n.) the state of being limitless "Renovations?" Elizaveta had no obligation to satisfy Ludwig's curiosity. It would be a security breach. Undoubtedly, the mutant would hear about it later, but for now, it was policy to keep mutants in the dark for as long as possible. Both literally and figuratively. She kept quiet as she shuffled around some papers, not taking the hint that was given. Ludwig became a lot more relaxed as Elizaveta removed his handcuffs. The first time Elizaveta had invited Ludwig into her office, she'd been much more cautious about it. Ludwig was much less of a troublemaker than some of the other mutants, but that didn't mean he wouldn't take a chance when he got one. She had requested him upon hearing rumors from the other guards, hoping to get a willing mutant to help her out. And he'd been happy to do that and how could Elizaveta feel upset about that? "I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this," Ludwig said, though thankfully he did accept the beer. Elizaveta wouldn't have insisted if he hadn't, but it made things go easier that he did. "Anyone who does good work can earn my respect," Elizaveta said simply. And that, for the most part, was true. Respect was easy. She had hardened herself to the point where she almost never felt pity for the mutants, particularly the rebellious ones, but she could respect them. Of course, if they ever jeopardized her position, no amount of respect would ever stop Elizaveta from doing what had to be done. She paused momentarily as she glanced at Ludwig as he chugged down the beer. It seemed both of the brothers could appreciate the drink; it must be one of the things they missed most. Once upon a long time ago—really, a lifetime ago—Elizaveta remembered talking to Gilbert about Ludwig. He loved his brother, even then. Had she met Ludwig before? The memories were faded, worn out images from a past that would soon slip away from her fingers, but Elizaveta thought so. He'd have been rather young of course. She would've been six or seven at most, which meant Ludwig could not have been more than three. At least this was one brother that would probably never recognize her. Knowing this pair of brothers from the past was a security breach, one that Elizaveta was very well aware of yet she chose to push it to the side while she could. She had the resolve, she knew (or at least she hoped), to deal with them if they ever became troublesome. Elizaveta mentally told herself that Ludwig was only sitting here because he was a good worker. True, but there were other mutants she could've called in. Or even her own guards. There was no use in musing over her motives. What was done was done, and she couldn't say she didn't enjoy the company. Ludwig dutifully set about the tasks that Elizaveta had set for him. He wasn't afraid of work. Of course, this might be because there was very little to do in the cells (unless you were like Hamish, who Elizaveta was sure had plenty to do). Shredding and filing were mundane tasks, but unfortunately very necessary. Elizaveta began working on signing and finishing the paperwork for the mutant showcase. Nothing compromising of course; those she would do when she was by herself. Elizaveta may have trusted Ludwig more than mutants (and even then, trust was not quite the word to label it), but security. It was never far from Elizaveta's thoughts. She had to deal with some backlash due to complaints about the Underground's treatment of mutants and the overall conditions as well. Which, admittedly, were not top notch. Elizaveta had only held this position for a year after all. It wasn't easy either—give the mutants too much and you had them rallying for freedom; give them too little and you had inspector grumbling about conditions. It was a constant balance of competing forces. The kinder, softer side of Elizaveta argued for better conditions in the cells and better treatment. The harsher, more realistic side of Elizaveta knew that would only cause more chaos in the end. Not to mention the bloody Freedom Fighters. They could only cause trouble, with their protests and jabbering. Elizaveta didn't necessarily like society today, particularly under her mother, but she could grudgingly accept the necessity of it. Had the Freedom Fighters even thought about what would happen if what they wanted came true? Free mutants, roaming the streets? Imagine the chaos. There was a reason why the entire world had united to control the mutants. Granted, there were probably better ways to deal with mutants and they should probably invest more money in identifying the mutant gene and how to get rid of it, but what the Freedom Fighters proposed was absurd. They were completely unrealistic. There was no method of policing mutants, no way to control them if anything happened. The world would descend into chaos. ...Speaking of the Freedom Fighters, she had to consider extra security during arena fights in general. There'd been a possible breach in security recently. "I’m all right," Ludwig said in response to her question, bringing Elizaveta's thoughts out of the number of issues she had to deal with and back to the present. "I got moved to a new cell, and I… I’ve met my cellmates before, so we get along well. It’s a nice break from how things usually go." This made Elizaveta wonder how things usually went, but she chose not to question it. Pity was not something that Elizaveta wanted. Besides, Ludwig was fairly capable. He won nearly all of his matches. He could protect himself. At least, Elizaveta believed he could. "That's good," Elizaveta said simply, giving him a polite nod as she signed off her paper, laid it in the completed pile (which looked discouragingly small) and began to review the next one. "Who are your new cellmates this time round?" Elizaveta couldn't keep everything memorized. Certainly there were a few senior guards who could, but not Elizaveta. She scribbled on the side of a paper in frustration. The goddamn pen was running out of ink... "Aside from that, I suppose I can’t complain. Everything’s been relatively normal." Politeness and niceties. Elizaveta wondered if that was simply how Ludwig was or if he acted this way towards her due to her position. Possibly both. Elizaveta had never really known him before after all. She could hardly judge him. "What about you? Please tell me this hasn’t been your life for the past few weeks." Ludwig gestured vaguely at the mountain of papers on her desk. "Hmm? Oh, unfortunately yes." Elizaveta tapped her pen against the side of her desk before tossing it into the trash can and retrieving a new one from her drawer. She'd learned in the first month on the job that one could never have enough pens. She ran through them at a lightning speed and ordered them regularly. "The Governor didn't inform me of the necessary preparations until a few weeks prior and she changed things around at the last minute three days ago." Elizaveta grimaced a little before she reached into the fridge and opened a beer for herself. "Which unfortunately means I have to deal with this as quickly as possible while finishing the regular work. Everything has to go out within the next few weeks if we're going to make the deadline. As you can guess, that's why I called you in." The problem now was how she was going to give Ludwig work. The event had to be kept a secret, but he could deal with the regular paperwork. That of course, brought to mind exactly what she should give him. Rearranging of mutant cells...was that too much of a risk? Perhaps... Oh, she had to arrange for the guards who would measure the mutants for their respective costumes. That, Ludwig could help with. Elizaveta reached over and took down a list of the guards. It was a basic list, with their names, age, height, and a photo of them. Elizaveta had much more details information on all of them but she wouldn't give that to Ludwig. "Ludwig, you know the guards and the mutants decently well, don't you?" Elizaveta asked. "Take a look at this list and give me...let's say five to ten guards that are decently respected by the mutants. No one who the mutants outrightly dislike." That would cause resistance, and Elizaveta needed this to go smoothly. She'd review who Ludwig had picked out later, ensure they were actually capable of handling the mutants and all, but Ludwig probably knew better than she did.

words 1457 tags #Ludwig A. Beilschmidt notes I am lateness, lateness is me. And this is longer than expected, I'm sorry. I went on a rant about the FF.

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[Ludwig A. Beilschmidt]

baby you're a firestorm you're a loaded cannon

To learn that he did good work and had earned the head guard’s respect put Ludwig in an even better mood, and he allowed himself a quick proud smile before turning back to the task at hand. He wouldn’t have wanted to shred one of the fight reports by accident… well, that wasn’t necessarily true. He’d have been more than happy to see some of the reports chewed up into incomprehensible ribbons. The Underground clearly had to keep records to determine what privileges could be granted to who, but Ludwig knew it only paid when it came to winners. If some of the Baits’ records were to go into the shredder, would the treatment of them lighten up? Ludwig didn’t want to risk his position in Elizaveta’s trust to try it, but the curiosity remained. ”Who are your new cellmates this time round?” he heard the head guard reply to his careful small-talk. Ludwig knew that there had been some bad blood between Eliza and his brother, so he opted for a half-lie. If she really wanted to know, she probably had the records. ”One’s just a random quiet guy, but the other is Feliciano,” Ludwig explained, not lifting his eyes from the paperwork. ”He was my roommate for a while in Weeds, so we’re friends. It’s nice to see him again after such a long time.” Elizaveta had never been unduly mean to him — hell, that she invited him out of his cell to help her out, and without handcuffs, even, that spoke volumes about her trust. But Ludwig always felt like he had to tiptoe carefully around certain words when speaking with the guards, even with the ones he liked. That information could leak to the less scrupulous ones, and Ludwig didn’t want to give anyone any knowledge of anything that could be used against him. He didn’t want to reveal how close of friends he and Feli actually were; it would have helped to know whether or not anyone had ever caught the Italian sneaking into his bed to keep warm (or caught him allowing that, on the other hand). That he was an old friend and a former roommate from the mutant school… that was truthful enough without sharing too much. Taking a break from shredding so he could hear her speaking properly, Ludwig filed reports and listened as Elizaveta grumbled about the renovations. ”It’s not very considerate to be given such short notice,” he observed, glancing up from his work as the head guard helped herself to a beer. From the glimpse he got of her fridge, Ludwig felt a pang of jealousy. A fridge would be an unthinkable luxury in a cell — let alone a fridge full of beer. But… looking around, Ludwig could see that Elizaveta hadn’t been wrong about the amount of work. If he’d been allowed to do more, perhaps he could have helped her make a sizable dent in the piles of papers arrayed around her desk. As he continued to file papers into the shredder, he let his mind wander a bit. Renovations… did the head guard really deal with such things? Come to think of it, who even paid for the renovations to places like the Underground? That wasn’t something he could ever recall learning. As he finished slicing the last useless documents to ribbons and finished organizing the right records, Ludwig wondered if it would be worth this little treat to ask. ”With the renovations, ma’am,” he spoke up politely, ”do you know what’s going to be fixed? Some of the walls in the cells could use work, and I’ve had to fix more than a few beds by myself.” That his power allowed him a cushier lifestyle than most was something Ludwig had only been aware of once he’d gotten used to life outside of Weeds. He took another delicious sip of beer just in time for Elizaveta to set another task: picking out a handful of respected guards. ”Of course,” he answered quickly, starting to scan the list. Andrei, no — too pushy. Alexander, yes, he had a calm attitude and didn’t pick fights. Younger Dmitri, no. Honestly, why he hadn’t been fired yet, Ludwig didn’t know. Older Dmitri… maybe; he disliked the mutants but never treated them poorly, which was a discrepancy Ludwig had yet to understand. As he scanned the list and made mental notes, another thought occurred to him and he glanced suspiciously up from the paper. ”Ma’am, if it’s not too much to ask,” he spoke up, then hesitated. A request for a favor — even one as reasonable as Ludwig hoped this one seemed — he shouldn’t be making requests in the first place. It wasn’t his position to do that. But he needed to ask. Clearing his throat, he spoke up again, ”You won’t tell anybody that I’ve been here helping out with… this kind of thing, will you?” He gestured to the list of guards. ”The guards will know that we have biases and they might retaliate if they learn they weren’t picked because they aren’t well-liked.” Ludwig didn’t like many of the guards, but he had little to fear from them: he behaved, and his power ensured a certain wariness on the part of his captors. Other mutants were nowhere near as lucky, and while the guards had strict guidelines in place to ensure they didn’t ‘damage’ mutants too much, he’d seen enough abuses of power to know that loopholes always existed and bruises could always fade. Word Count: 968 Tags: Elizaveta Héderváry Notes: sorry i was so absent!

by worldie for lena

[Elizaveta Héderváry]

INFINITY (n.) the state of being limitless The presence of Ludwig around in the office was oddly calming. It was lonely, sitting here with her paperwork, trying to keep everything in line from time to time. Elizaveta didn't lie to herself. She held no false belief that any of the mutants liked her in the slightest. Some, like Hamish, were rather vocal about it. Others held their resentment more quietly. "One’s just a random quiet guy, but the other is Feliciano." Like Feliciano. Elizaveta rarely spoke to the Italian. He seemed cute enough, not overly rebellious (though perhaps that was simply because he didn't have the physical ability to do so), but Elizaveta didn't need to look past his accusing eyes to know that he disliked her. That was hardly surprising. If she was in their position, she would do the same. After all, she was part of the system that placed them here. "He was my roommate for a while in Weeds, so we’re friends. It’s nice to see him again after such a long time." Still. Whatever reservations she or Feliciano held against each other, the simple way that Ludwig spoke of him as a friend brought a soft smile to Elizaveta's face. It disappeared quickly and Elizaveta mentally chastised herself for letting it slip through. The more she was able to distance herself from the issue, the less she thought of any of the mutants under her command as human, the easier this job was. She'd learned that her first month here and it was not a lesson she wished to repeat in the slightest. Even Ludwig was only here because Elizaveta needed someone to help her. She was not lonely, she did not think of Ludwig as more than a simple tool. Kindness was a front to be used to achieve a greater goal. "Feliciano seems like a nice boy," Elizaveta said simply. "He has a good taste in friends." Ludwig spoke sympathetically about Elizaveta's workload. Likely, he was saying whatever words would keep him here with cold beer and away from dull days stuck in a cell, but Elizaveta would take boughten words if that was all she got. Silence fell between the two again, only the familiar buzz of the shredder filling the emptiness. Then it stopped for a moment. Elizaveta could almost feel Ludwig's hesitation and she wondered exactly what was on the mutant's mind. "With the renovations, ma'am...do you know what's going to be fixed? Some of the walls in the cells could use work, and I’ve had to fix more than a few beds by myself." Ah, the cells themselves. Ludwig was trying to advocate for better living conditions. Unsurprising. They were shitty. Elizaveta recalled that as a regular guard, she herself had wondered why exactly they weren't fixed or as well kept. Perhaps the mutants would have less to complain about then. But as she'd moved higher up, as she analyzed the situation more, as she argued directly with the higher ups, it had slowly come to her realization. When the mutants were concentrated on their living situation, on surviving, they were much less likely to think of rebellion. The sympathetic side of Elizaveta wanted to empathize with Ludwig. But the logical side always came in. "I'll see if we can get someone in there to fix things up a little," Elizaveta nodded a little as she made a few marks on the paper in front of her. That wasn't too much of a stretch. Certainly, Elizaveta could push that from a 'mutants could potentially injure themselves' perspective.' "These renovations don't specifically pertain to the cells themselves...more of something that the Governor has interest in putting together in the Underground herself. I can't argue too much with the higher ups...but I will see if I can scrap together some funding for that. Hopefully it will not be too difficult...though it may need to wait a little." Again, silence set in, interrupted only by the flipping of pages, Ludwig's hesitation ringing through the air. For a man who showed rather little emotion, Elizaveta found that he was surprisingly easy to read. "Ma'am...if it's not too much to ask...You won’t tell anybody that I’ve been here helping out with… this kind of thing, will you? The guards will know that we have biases and they might retaliate if they learn they weren’t picked because they aren’t well-liked." Elizaveta looked upwards from the papers she was examining at the request. It wasn't an unreasonable request. It hadn't crossed Elizaveta's mind at all, but that was hardly surprising. "Of course not, Ludwig. This will remain confidential. They'll simply be assigned. You won't be mentioned at all." Elizaveta flipped the page easily. She doubted the guards particularly cared about being 'well-liked' necessarily. They just wanted better jobs. She'd been the same. Elizaveta settled back into the rhythm of paperwork. Read it over, make notes, highlight, cross out, deep sigh, take a sip of the beer, flip the page. Over and over, until it would've driven Elizaveta crazy a long time ago. If she had known that being Head Guard would be like this, Elizaveta would have found some other way to rebel against her mother. But now that she was here... Elizaveta finished her first packet of papers and put them on the finished pile. She had to enter the data, make sure everything aligned. But before that... "Ludwig, have you put together a list for me yet? No worries if you haven't—and if you have any questions on anything, do ask—but if you do I'll take them and look over everything now."

words 939 tags #Ludwig notes Ugh I'm sorry. So late and not good.

template by falkyrin

[Ludwig A. Beilschmidt]

baby you're a firestorm you're a loaded cannon

Reading people had never been Ludwig’s strong suit, but even he could tell when his carefully polite conversation with Elizaveta hit an unforeseen nerve. At the mention of Feliciano, a shadow crossed the woman’s face, an unhappy hardness that made Ludwig wonder if she and Feli had ever gotten into some kind of a fight. Seeing the head guard in the tunnels was rare — a person with those responsibilities often had other more savory tasks. But on occasion, Ludwig had seen her walking the halls, accompanied by some of her underlings. Plus, Feli had always been one of the less dangerous mutants: his power affected his own person the hardest. “Feliciano seems like a nice boy.” Ludwig glanced back up; the sad look had passed from Elizaveta’s face, replaced by a smile. “He has a good taste in friends.” Despite his setting and himself, the mutant couldn’t help blushing, and he focused down on the papers he continued to feed into the shredder. He’d been told he was a good fighter or a well-behaved mutant before, but nobody (excepting Feli himself) had complimented him on being a good friend. Even coming from someone indirectly responsible for his captivity, it felt nice to hear. ”That’s very kind of you to say,” he mumbled, watching the papers rend into streamers. ”Thank you.” The conversation turned a little less personal from there, although the answers Ludwig received were far less pleasant. He wish he could pretend to be surprised by the fact that there weren’t any straightforward plans for renovations, but even two years in the Underground was apparently enough to make someone jaded. I can’t argue too much with the higher-ups, more of somethign that the Governor has interest in putting together in the Underground herself… Ludwig kept his face blank, but he picked apart the double-speak in his thoughts, using what he’d overheard from the guards patrolling the hallways in days past. All big projects had to go through the Governor for approval — that made enough sense — but the aforementioned “higher-ups” weren’t interested in making their mutant barracks more habitable. Something new (and presumably flashy) would be built instead, for the entertainment or satisfaction of the people on the outside. There would be no repairs to the crumbling cement walls or ceilings, nothing done about the cold-water showers in the biting Russian winters… Ludwig would still get to spend his spare time welding rusty beds back together again. Perhaps it was the news he’d been expecting, but it didn’t make him any less disappointed. On the other hand, it was some small relief to learn that his hand in choosing the “preferred” guards wouldn’t be public knowledge. The guards could do very little to him without risking some sort of fiery retaliation (and Ludwig liked to think he wouldn’t hesitate to offer just that, if the situation arrived), but some other friends and companions wouldn’t be as lucky. Plus, if someone learned he’d been responsible for upsetting the guards somehow and prompting some ill treatment against the mutants, his next arena fight could easily be an ugly one, and he had more than enough scars already. ”Alright. That’s all I wanted to know, thanks.” More work passed in silence; Ludwig sadly finished the last of his beer along with the list of guards he’d compiled. Setting the empty can quietly back on Elizaveta’s desk, he glanced up when she prompted him for his work. ”Here, I think this should be enough,” he offered, passing over the paperwork. A list of the guards who treated mutants gently — and when he ran out of names there, he’d added those who treated them at least civilly. All of the thugs were conspicuously absent, as were the few manipulative tricksters that liked to set a mutant up for trouble and then watch the fallout gleefully, having never dirtied their hands. ”There are a few names at the bottom for replacements in case someone is sick,” Ludwig explained. ”If those names run out, I suppose you can start drawing guards at random.” Did he have any questions… he honestly had plenty. But he doubted asking them here would result in any genuine answers. The head guard might have been kind, even sympathetic to her charges, but none of the guards were willing to let slip information a mutant wasn’t supposed to know. He set those more difficult questions aside for now, and decided to take a smaller, more calculated risk. ”Um. Well, do you have anything else you need help with?” Ludwig tried to make his voice sound as casual as possible. ”It’s just nice, doing something, you know.” Even filing papers was a welcome entertainment compared to the usual dead boredom of the cells. Word Count: 810 Tags: Elizaveta Héderváry Notes: Reviving just in case.

by worldie for lena