[Imperial Eagle] Welcome home, Bruder!

[Deutschland]

He glared at Gilbert, and pinned him down harder than before. "Why should I? What good reason is there to spare a man like you?" His fist clenched again, no longer shaking. He was ready to hit him again.

But he continued on. "A man who lies, cheats, and steals for nothing more than his own pleasure. A man who betrays his own brother, his blood!" His face broke down, not longer angry. Instead, broken. "How could you, Gilbert? How could you?"

What on earth happened to his brother in the time he left home? The brother he knew, or at least the brother he thought he knew, wouldn't betray him like that. What had gone so catastrophically wrong?

And so this was it. The officer had caught the Gypsy King. Their final game. The Gypsy King had stolen his finest, and heaviest, treasure. The officer was his victim in that crime. It was the finale of finales, the last interrogation. How will it end?

[Königreich Preußen]

Gilbert groaned as Ludwig pressed down on his chest, keeping him against the wall. Normally, he would kick, bite, and claw -- often drawing blood -- to get away, but with his brother, all he could do was grip the wrist that held him down, listening to him speak and picking up on the defeated tone that Ludwig spoke with. Even now, however, Gilbert couldn’t feel shame for what he had done. He was convinced -- delusional, perhaps -- that Ludwig would see that he had freed him; that living a life of monotony, and replication, wasn’t suitable for someone with his high level of intelligence.

Watching with careful concentration, Gilbert spoke, taking advantage of Ludwig’s moment of broken defenses. “I’m the only family you have left, Ludwig.” His voice was calm and stern, a commanding edge tracing his words -- an inherent trait that seemed to lie within both the Beilschmidts. “If you beat me senseless, what will you have, other than the fleeting satisfaction of revenge?”

Gilbert’s eyes narrowed as he finished his question. His silver tongue darting back in behind his teeth. Ludwig was predictable, most days. One just had to speak logically to yield results with him, and despite his rage, Gilbert had a hunch that he’d listen if he just applied reason to his speech. [/color]

[Deutschland]

Ludwig's eyes widened at what Gil said, and he lowered his gaze to his clenched fist. He was right. Ludwig had nothing. If he left Gilbert and went his own way, where would he go? No welcome home, no other relatives anywhere...no friends. No dream to look forward to. Gilbert was all that was left of his familiar life, and he was, as much as he cringed to say it right now, family. And he was a firm believer that family should stay together and never let a wall form between them.

He slowly let go of Gilbert's shirt, and lowered him down so his feet could touch the floor. He took a few steps back, not catching his brother's eyes. But what would he do now? He didn't want to become a pirate...how could he possibly be happy being one? How could he forgive Gilbert for what he did?

Worryingly, Ludwig began to laugh. It was not normal laughter, and it only illuminated the anguish on his face. He covered his eyes with his hands, gripping at his forehead. "Hahahaha! You fucked everything up! Hahaha!"

[Königreich Preußen]

Gilbert tugged at the bottom of his shirt, smoothing the fabric that had been crumpled within Ludwig’s fist.
“I’m glad you’re amused.” He said, knowing his brother was anything but. “In time, I’m sure you’ll come to find that sticking with me is the better choice, despite what you think now.”
Taking a quick step away from Ludwig, Gilbert turned, cracking his fingers as he planned their next move. Anxious to get underway and fully enjoy this new life of plundering and--if the occasion called for it--killing, he decided to turn his sights East. The further he could get away from Western Europe, the better.
“We’re changing course and heading for Hungary.” He informed Ludwig, placing his hands behind his back as he spoke. “Depending on what we find there, we’ll then turn our sights on Russia, and possibly the Baltics, for future supply routes and locations where we can lie low, if need be.”
He could see the crease in his brother’s brow deepen--the doubt clouding his eyes as he spoke--but Gilbert paid little mind to it, and he merely returned Ludwig’s concern with a lazy grin and cheeky expression.
“Now, if you have any further issues you wish to discuss, like sleeping situations, chores, or your life long, indentured servitude … it’ll have to wait until I’m done icing my face.”

[Deutschland]

The red hot rage began to simmer down into a cooler, more painful shame, his laughter dying in his throat. Horrible as he was, Gilbert was his brother, and he had nearly killed him. Heh, a quiet voice in the back of his head said, killing someone you didn't mean to kill. You know all about that, don't you?

He blinked, shuddering at the thought.

He could only glare at Gilbert. He certainly didn't find anything amusing. He rubbed his temples, a new headache blossoming. This is what he had to look forward to, from now on. Waking up every morning to look at walls of wood, being thousands of miles up in the air, surrounded by a crew that he didn't know and would never like, and standing beside a brother who took everything from him. That was Ludwig, summed up in his own words. It was pathetic.

He listened to the plan. At least they would be traveling around, something Ludwig had wanted to do for a long time. Although it was a part of his retirement plan, and he wanted to go with his hypothetical wife, not his idiot brother.

"I don't care," he said at last, "I don't care where we go. But you'd best find an actual crew. You can hover over Germany all you like, but you can't man the ship by yourself." He turned, and walked towards the door, only stopping once to turn around. "You are alone. I'll be in my room. Don't bother me." He walked out of the room and shut the door, and stayed in his room for many days without coming out.