The A to Z’s of Dietrich Braach

[DIETRICH BRAACH]

This is something I’ve been wanting to do for a while. I’ve chosen (or come up with) some words and phrases that function as prompts for expanding on who Dietrich is. It is a character study of sorts, and I welcome any feedback. Not all are strictly drabbles. Some may be vignettes or short stories, maybe poems if I’m inspired to do so.

Feel free to help out with the prompts! Comments are welcomed :)

A – ASPHYXIATION
B – BETTER THAN THIS
C
D
E – E(R)GO
F
G – GOODBYE ON A THURSDAY
H – HONESTLY NOT
I – INERTIA
J – JACK THE RIPPER
K
L
M
N
O
P
Q
R – RABIES
S – SECRET
T
U
V
W – WANDERLUST
X – XYLEM
Y
Z

[DIETRICH BRAACH]

ASPHXIATION

Author's Note: Extremely vague references to several characters Dietrich has been in contact with. Possible hints, if you take a magnifying glass and squint.
Disclaimer: Do not try asphyxiation, even as a game…? Yes. I think that’s what a responsible person would say.

The red string of Fate, he concludes bitterly, is a myth. There is nothing like that ties him to her, him, or anyone else. Dietrich sees it clearly now. Choking back every single ache that twines around his lungs, he swallows painfully. It is getting harder to breathe. Yet he cannot, will not, stop breathing just yet. He has to continue pulling, fighting against the hungry python that is winding round his neck. It is all he can do until he finds the person who determines his next breath. Maybe they will end up strangled to Death before that happens.

[DIETRICH BRAACH]

SECRET

Characters: Von Braun Crew, Caedes, many sky pirates
Author's Note: Refer to Taming Fate as a background to this.

He was getting tired of himself.

Of knowing exactly what to say when somebody mouths off something rude about his dress. Being involved in fights that could have been avoided. Getting injured during such fights. Needing, using, making up excuses to visit his crush. Knowing his crush would be just that – an unreachable goal. Never quite moving up the ranks amongst his crew despite broadcasting claims of not wanting to do so. Always being the snarky attention-seeker who was either loved or hated. Being turned down repeatedly by women and men who always wanted to be with someone else “more dependable” and “less flighty”.

Perhaps that was why when his long-lost childhood playmate (in the most innocent sense), said those words, Dietrich was overwhelmed by the need to cry.

It was as if somebody up there had foreseen that he was about to break and returned him a gift he thought was lost forever.
Somebody who knew his faults and didn’t give a damn because all of that, and more, was Dietrich.

[DIETRICH BRAACH]

RABIES

Author's Note: Sort of a crack!thread idea I have in mind, but have yet to start. /procrastinates some more
It takes place shortly after Dietrich becomes a fledging, marking the start of his sky pirate career… if it can be counted as a career. This is also a jab in the dark at who/what Dietrich met and a (probable) puppy love. Literally. /cough

The chair creaked uncomfortably. A fly’s low buzz made him wince.

“So…”

Studying the strands of hair looped around his little pinkie, Dietrich finally started to speak. He had been silent for some time even as the doctor repeatedly tried to get him to respond.

“Is it possible to get rabies fromkissingsomebody!”

Huh.

That wasn’t too hard, he decided, after rushing through the not-quite-question with the speed of a runaway train carriage.

The doctor calmly removed the stethoscope – it hadn't been there a few seconds ago – before looking into Dietrich’s eyes with the practiced air of a person who Had Seen And Heard Too Many Weird Things To Be Frazzled.

“Was there a mutual exchange of saliva?”

A shake of the head.

“Do either or both parties have an open wound that came into close contact with another via bites or scratches?”

[/i]

A pinkish hue covered Dietrich’s cheeks. Technically, he had not been bitten. Nor scratched. He shook his head and willed the blush to disappear.

The doctor nodded sagely and appeared not to care. “Well. If there had been no direct contact with the infected saliva, then no, it’s not possible to get rabies. However, could you kindly fill up this form? It’s a list of symptoms that can narrow down what you might have gotten.” [/i]

After ten minutes of staring into space and frantic scribbling in between, Dietrich handed the form to the doctor, who was already on his second – twelfth, if you included the rest of the time when he was not occupied with clumsy patients and hypochondriacs – glass of red wine. He read the neatly printed words, mumbling to himself while his patient leaned forward in curious dread of what he might have accidentally been infected with.

He wasn’t expecting the wizened man to burst out into uncontrollable laughter.

As the loud booms faded into chuckles, the doctor sat up straight to address the wide-eyed young lad with as much dignity as he could muster.

“Perhaps you should re-consider the sort of ‘doctor’ you are visiting, Mr Braach.”[/i]

“Huh? W-W-What do you mean? Is it some terminal disease? Tell me, doctor! I… I’m too young to die!”

He would deny, afterwards, that he had been shrieking and very close to weeping.

The doctor waved his hand impatiently, clicking his tongue at the overdramatic antics his eyes and ears were being subjected to.

“It’s hard to say, Mr Braach. Some say that there is no cure, but others would say that it is a… disease that they would not mind having for the rest of their lives.”[/i] He twirled the glass absent-mindedly, reminded of his grandchildren laughing under the sun and the picture of his wife smiling in the only photograph he had of her.

Dietrich only looked more confused. To his credit, however, the tears had stopped flowing.

The doctor sighed.

“There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re not dying from some terminal disease.”[/i]

Relief was evident in his patient’s features.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!!”

Gushing his thanks with the same enthusiasm mirrored by eager puppies wanting to go for a walk, Dietrich left the dingy clinic with a spring in his steps.

The doctor took his third glass of wine, laughing silently at the inexperienced lad who had no inkling about his own emotions. Ah… youth. He smiled, shaking his head and hoping that someday, the drama queen would realise what the so-called disease was.

Or course, Dietrich never quite remembered this incident, attributing the small pang of something swelling his chest as heartburn whenever he caught a glimpse of Those Who Were Almost Here.[/div][/center]

[DIETRICH BRAACH]

GOODBYE ON A THURSDAY

Characters: Dietrich's parents and many others who are/presumed to be dead.
Author's Note: Reference to Norse mythology.

Keeping his room excessively neat and organised was a routine that he was used to.

Finding an outdated calendar slipped in between a folded shirt was unexpected, to say the least, but Dietrich was ready to get rid of it. There was no point in keeping something that he did not need. Spotting small scratch-like marks over a particular date, he became somewhat concerned at the smudge of imperfection on the otherwise eye-pleasing object. Bouncing onto his bed, he examined the marks. They looked as if the perpetrator had meant to block out the date but was hesitant in doing so.

He touched the surface lightly, eyes focussed on the barely visible date. Had he been the one who did it? Staring at the old calendar was not giving him any answers, so he sighed, ready to chuck it away… until he saw the date was a Thursday.

Now that was disconcerting.

Even if he could not remember why, he felt a familiar buzz of disappointment.

Thursday.

A day for the God of Thunder, if he were a believer in ancient (and dead, just like those names with blurred faces) mythologies. A God ruling over social order and laws, though such a tidbit of information did little to assuage the growing uneasiness.

Thursdays were meant for farewells. For saying goodbyes until it had lost its impact.

That was what it meant to him.

He stared at the marks a little longer, then retrieved the switch-blade from his pocket. With elaborate viciousness, Dietrich cut through the dates that fell on Thursdays, before dumping the calendar into the trash bin.

A satisfied smirk.

Just because he was used to saying 'goodbyes' – or in some cases, murmuring it silently – didn’t mean he had to like it.

[DIETRICH BRAACH]

JACK THE RIPPER

Characters: Austin Fox, Lazaro Kline
Author's Note: Ever wonder what happened after Dietrich learns about the truth?

He has never jumped off a ship before. Not when it was sailing through the skies. Dietrich raises both legs with morbid curiosity, watching the clouds float by idly his feet. He wonders. Would it hurt? Would he land on Khthonia? Bones would break. Would there be a loud bang when he hit the ground? Or would it be a soft thump, ignored and unheard? He shuts his eyes. It is much more possible for him die from a heart attack while dropping down. Dead even before he reached the ground.

Perhaps he would keep falling, proving that the world an endless sky.

His fingers hurt. Turning white from the effort of gripping on to the rail. It is the only thing keeps him from being blown forwards into an uncertain method of Death. Dietrich smiles ruefully. He is too much of a coward to end his life this way.

He hates to admit his jealousy. How could he?! Fuming silently, Dietrich’s teeth grinds against his cheek, clamping down on his tongue with a ferocity that only a handful had witnessed before. Why him?

He opens his eyes.

Yes.

Why, indeed, is Austin the one who ended up with the legendary key? The fledging did not even have a single clue how it ended up in his hands! It was as if – and Dietrich’s mouth bleeds as he seethed quietly – Fate or some venny forsaken higher power had just whimsically chosen him! The very idea was maddening.

He swallows the blood without second thought. A triumphant smile lights his face, baring his teeth in a grotesque manner that twisted the sharp, proportionate facial features.

Austin had agreed to working with him and Laz to retrieve the rest of the keys.

He will devour them after it has been accomplished.

Dietrich’s lips stretches, half-way between a snarl and a smile, as he begins devising plans for the future.