One on One? ((Closed, sorry))

I'm super bored so I really wanted to do a one on one rp. I was thinking maybe it could be like a Jewish runaway girl and the son of a Nazi set in the 1940's if you're in to that kind of thing or if you want something more modern maybe hero and villain or something like that.

My rules are keep it PG-13, no gore, violence is fine, no cursing, no smut, and please make sure your response moves the story forward. I'm fine with one liners as long as it advances the story.

may i join? i’ve never written WWII stuff but it would be interesting!

Of course! Template or no?

hmm it’d be kind of fun to go in blind if that’s okay with you

Sure, quick question though, did you want to be the Jewish girl or the German boy? Either is fine.

hmm i kinda wanna be the boy

Okay, let's get this started! Do you want to start or should I?

do you mind starting?

Nah, it's fine

'No…no no no no no!" Ruth cried in her head, panic completely engulfing her. The Nazis were gone, but her house was smoldering, orange flames licking up high into the sky. If only she could have done something, her parents would be alive and with her. But they had been shot by men in brown shirts, and there was nothing she could do now. Coughing from the smoke, she turned and ran into town.

Henry walked down the street, a book in his arms. He was excited to go home and read it. As he walked, he suddenly smelled something that burrowed into his nose with a sharp, smoky scent. Something was burning. He knew that he shouldn’t go look, because he wasn’t supposed to care, since it was probably the house or store of a Jew and therefore beneath him. He tried to look as unbothered as the others around him, noticing a girl who looked afraid as she darted into town. Ignore, ignore, ignore, he thought, trying to turn away.

Her curly brown hair flowing behind her, Ruth weaved in and out of blond haired, blue eyed men and women wearing Nazi armbands. Her own armband, one sporting the Jewish Star of David, seemed to stick out like a sore thumb. Everybody glared at her with icy eyes. Nobody moved out of the way, and some shoved her aside. As she ran, a man pushed her, causing her to collide into a boy holding a book.

Henry’s book flew out of his arms as he collided with the very girl he had been trying to avoid. His sky blue eyes widened as he tried to reach for it with his long arms, failing to watch it before it fell into a puddle. He himself almost fell as well, before he managed to stop himself from hitting the ground at the last second. He frowned at the girl who had bumped him. “You have to be more careful,” he remarked, though he couldn’t bring himself to act cold, just stern.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, not looking him in the eye. She picked up his book out of the puddle and handed it to him. Utter fear struck her heart. Will he call his superiors to come and arrest me? Beat me? Kill me? Before he could say anything, she started off in the direction she came from.

“Wait!” he called after her, looking around nervously. He did his best to look angry. The other people would probably take better to that than to him being kind. He took off after her.

Her stomach dropped as he ran after her and she picked up the pace. She didn't know where she was going, but all she knew was that she needed to get away from him. She looked behind her to see that he was gaining on her. A small whimper, more like a strangled cry escaped her throat and she whipped her head around and continued running.

Henry had long legs and ran quickly, since he did track. He was gaining on the girl, who looked terrified, and he considered just leaving her alone. It would be better for all of them if he did that. But his conscience had always been strong, and today he couldn’t ignore the feeling that he had to talk to her. He felt awful for making her so afraid, but kept running, hoping she’d tire soon.

After a while, Ruth collapsed, her lungs still recently damaged from the fire, coughing and wheezing. Her stomach churned as the boy came closer. She felt the urge to run but couldn't go on any more. This was it. She couldn't run or resist. She would be taken off to her death. Desperately, she held her hands together and bowed her head, praying silently.

Thankfully the girl had run into an alleyway, so no one else would see them. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he spoke quietly. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right.” His blue eyes were wide and earnest.

Stunned, she looked up at him. His sky blue eyes weren't piercing, but soft and kind. She shakily stood up, one hand on the wall, still struggling to breathe. "I-i'm fine," she sputtered between heavy breaths. "Why do you care?" She didn't say this in a harsh tone, rather in a questioning tone. She was truly curious why a German would worry about a Jew.

“Someone has to,” Henry replied, surprised by the question. Why should he be? She was used to being hated and tormented for no reason. He held his book loosely in his right hand, the water still dripping from it onto the ground. “You don’t seem fine.”

"I'm fine." She insisted. She wanted to scream, telling him how his big Nazi friends burnt her house down and killed her family, but she couldn't. She just couldn't. But noticing how she was cornered l, she figured she might not have much of a choice.

Henry frowned, but knew that he had no idea of her troubles. He had all he needed, and she was most likely barely scraping by. “Sorry to bother you,” he muttered and turned around.

"No, wait," she croaked. "If you really want to know, my house is burned down and my parents are both dead." A few years trickled down her face from her hazel eyes, dripping onto her light blue dress. She didn't want to be alone, especially not now. She just wanted someone to be with. She was barely old enough to be alone.

Henry turned. That explained the burning smell from earlier. “Oh,” he said softly, hardly able to imagine such a thing. To be orphaned so young. He knew he should walk away now, before she thought she could actually trust someone like him, but something told him to stay. “I’m sorry.”

She looked down at the ground. She wanted to know why he was sorry, when he was a member of the Nazis. The ones who hated Jews. Killed them. Burned them. She clenched her fists, tears still flowing, refusing to look him in the eye.

“Here, you can, um, have the cheese that I brought,” he said, getting it out his pocket and holding it out to her. He was horrible with crying people.

Ruth hesitantly took the cheese, holding it like it was the most precious thing in the world. And, right now, it was. "Thank you," she murmured appreciatively. "Wh-what's your name?"

“Henry,” he said softly. “What’s yours?” He studied her, hoping that his offer had helped.

"Ruth," she said, finally looking into his warm eyes.