Lady in Scarlett [Messer]

[Ivana Dimionva Kuznetsova]

Location: The heart of Bruges

Time: 20:05

Date: November 2, 1942


The last twinkles of daylight faded away, as nighttime approached. It was obviously a long day at the headquarters. Ingrid finished her last few papers for the day. She organized her desk to leave, arranging the office items in a neat and pristine fashion. Ingrid filed her work and neatly tucked it in one of the drawers in her desk. It did not take a lot of time for her to slip on her red overcoat and grab her leather purse, and before long, she was out the door and into the open. Ingrid released a heavy sigh as she made her way to her small apartment. She was halfway home when a hole-in-the-wall bar caught her attention.

It was strange how she passed by this bar everyday but it was not until now that she noticed it. Time to do something different for a change. Ingrid thought to herself. The woman let out a small sigh as she gripped her purse strap and crossed the nearly empty street. She was not near the door and she could hear loud noises of bellowing laughter, talking, and off-key singing. This really caused the woman to second guess her motives, but she did need to try something different, it was crucial that she blended in. Ingrid continued to walk forward, her heels making a slight sharp "tap" on the broken concrete. She entered the rugged bar and was met with a sight of German men, from SS to commanding officers and everything in between, some of them have already lost their judgement and began acting like a drunkard, others kept to themselves and nursed a drink or two. Ingrid made her way to a high table near the corner of the bar, taking her seat in one of the chairs and kept to herself, quietly analysis the men and trying to stomach the ruckus that was happening.

[[sorry about it being short, i am having a little bit of writer's block.]]

[Anton Maas]

It took Gus a good 5 minutes to tuck in, straighten, and button his dark SS uniform after leaving the stall. He would have preferred to be in his street clothes, but apparently that would be against some new rule the sausage brains in Berlin thought up. Gus didn’t understand why they thought they should control his fashion sense, just because a couple Gestapo agents were mistaken for saboteurs. It’s not like any of the soldiers that made that mistake with Gus were going to make it again anytime soon. At least until they left the hospital.

Gus grumbled to himself about his problems as he left the restroom and walked through the noisy bar. To get to the table of men wearing newer grey uniforms and cheerier faces, he had to push his way through a group of drunk NCOs laughing like hyenas at bits and pieces of stupid jokes. His poor attitude mixed with his worn officer uniform, quieted the infantrymen long enough that he could hear the conversation of his Gestapo comrades.

“… so then I’m like ‘I never miss’ and pull the trigger.” One of the drunk Kriminalinspektors said, in slurred German.

”From what I remember, you did miss, and we never did catch her.” Gus replied, as he sat down, and the rest of the table laughed.

“Oh well Messer,” the poor-shot whined, “You’re one to complain, how many times have we lost track of a suspect after you got ’too close, for comfort.’?” he was quite impressed with his wordplay, and his smirk showed it.

Gus shrugged, ”At least I don’t ‘miss and tell’”

The man seated on the other side of the table frowned and then opened his mouth to respond, but instead let it hang there as he stared behind Gus. The other two men at the tabled turned to stare at the door as well, and Gus instinctively slide his hand into his jacket to cradle his shoulder holster. When he looked, all he saw was a young woman entering. He turned back around and pulled a cigarette from his inside pocket, while the rest of the men watched her find herself a table. Even the NCOs silenced their idiotic laughter to look at here, and become more like hyenas by having their tongues slide out of their mouths.

”Yes everyone, it’s a woman” Gus mumbled, before sneaking a gulp from the beer of one of the distracted men.

[Ivana Dimionva Kuznetsova]

Ingrid noticed that the noise hushed when she entered the establishment and made her way to a aloof part of the bar. It seemed that all eyes were on her, all unwanted eyes. The amount of attention did make the situation on her part pretty uncomfortable, but she just swallowed it down and played it cool. Ingrid crossed her legs and set the leather purse on the scratched wooden table before her. She looked around, trying to avoid entertaining any of the attention she was getting by drunk Germans. "Yes everyone, it's a woman."[/i] When she heard that, Ingrid looked around to find the person who said that. It was not a bad thing, for it did break the suffocating silence in the bar, and it did release some of the attention on her.

Ingrid shifted in her seat and signaled for the bartender. Seconds later a seemingly older man with a bit of height made his way over to her, with glass and cloth still in hand. The man asked for her order, Ingrid responded with the taste of a white wine. The bartender bowed and left, leaving her alone at the table once again. He returned with a glass of red wine and exited again. Ingrid took a sip of the beverage. So now I know what I was missing. She thought the herself. She continued to indulge in the drink, striking down the drunkards that would occasionally wobble to her table to get a flirt in or two. She remained conscious to enjoy herself, but not lose her judgement and become drunk.

[Anton Maas]

((I edited this because I realized I gave Gus two different holsters))

As Messer, lost in his own thoughts, stared aimlessly and drank his own beer, another Kriminalinspektor took his eyes off the broad and peered quizzically at his empty glass.
“Hey, let me get you a refill, kid.” said the oldest and drunkest of the table as he stood up and grabbed the empty mug. He then teetered up to the bar, sat the glass on the table and immediately walked away, towards the direction of the woman’s table. He attempted to straighten his grey SS uniform as a wehrmacht NCO was dismissed from the table, and then he immediately sat down.
“Hey Miss, don’t waste time on these cannon fodders, I got connections, if you need anything, I can open any door in this city, specially if you ope…” He found it difficult to finish the words as sausage sized fingered suddenly gripped his collar and pulled him out of his seat.

The rest of the Gestapo officers gasped as a large Leutnant tossed their comrade onto the floor and then took his place across from the lady. Gus had to turn around to see what they had seen, and only caught sight of the other Kriminalinspektor spitting up onto the floor, but Messer could tell what happened.
”Wait,” he calmly spoke as he raised a hand to keep the rest of them in their seats, while he alone stood up, ”I’ll deal with this, just take care of the bodies” He then tossed his spent cigarette butt into an ashtray and turned from the table.

The alcohol hadn’t entered his bloodstream yet, so Gus took each steady step with confidence as he walked tall towards the commotion. His hands curled into fists as he watched the brute stand up to reach over the table and start to grab at the woman’s hair.

As the sober Gestapo officer stood beside the table, his right hand loosened into a cup and he held it up towards the soldier, ”Excuse me sir, I think you dropped this”
The instant the drunk looked over, Gus slammed the fist into the man’s throat. He toppled over, knocking into and spilling the drinks onto the table. As he tried to stand, he swung a punch towards Messer, but Gus simply stuck out a foot and let the man’s own momentum trip him up and send him face first onto the floor.

For a full minute, Gus stuck his hand into his jacket and shifted his holster so the imprint of the piece was visible as he stared at the rest of the wehrmacht group, but they did nothing but stare back as the rest of the Kriminalinspektors came over to pick up their downed comrade and drag the other soldier out of the bar. Maybe to arrest him, maybe something worst, Gus neither knew nor cared, he was more worried about the woman. So while the bartender started to quickly mop up, Gus pulled his hand out of his uniform, along with a pack of Lucky Strikes, and held them out to her,
”Sorry for the mess, miss. If you’re still going to drink, send your bill to my table. And don’t worry, no one should bother you now” He then tilted his cap onto the back of his head and then strolled back to his table to drink alone.

[Ivana Dimionva Kuznetsova]

Ingrid seemed amused at the poor souls that attempted to strike it rich with her. The woman clearly ran her finger on the rim of the wine glass lazily and sat back in the bar chair, pretending to acknowledge what the drunkards attempted to say. One man attempted to grab hold of her slim hand, but Ingrid quickly moved it out of his reach and dismissed him. Ingrid signaled from another drink as another man sloppily made his way to her table. She prepared herself to drop him right on the spot, but the German daringly sat across from her and began talking.

Ingrid was amused by the sheer confidence this man showed, and the fact that he was different from the other military men, but she was clearly not interested in what he had to offer; nor did she pay him any mind. Ingrid was not suprised that the man rambled on about what he would do for her, but she was surprised when a very large and brutish man snagged the Gustapo's man back collar and dumped him on the wooden floor like a toy. Ingrid's guard heightened as she sat up strighter in her chair. The bar hushed once again by the sight, and nearly all eyes focused on the man before her.

Ingrid glared at the large man before her, as she attempted to distance herself from the drunk. But before she could move herself from the table, the large man's hand flashed out and attempted to grab her long, brown hair. Surprised and slightly caught off-guard, Ingrid moved out of the way in the nick of time and grabbed the brutes hand. She bent the man's hand in an unnatural way, resulting in a holler from the man. Ingrid took no time in twisting the man's arm. Before she could inflict more damage, a tall man in a neat uniform distracted her attacker. She watched as the tall man skillfully dealt a blow to the man's throat, causing him to crash onto the ground and gasp for air. Ingrid watched as the tall man tripped the brute, causing him to faceplant hard on the floor. Ingrid's eyes trailed back to the man that saved her, her attention snapped back to the Gustapo men helping their comrade and others dragging the limp body of the attacker out of the bar.

The woman watched the stranger remove his hand from his uniform. He pulled out a box of cigarettes and offered it to her. Ingrid accepted the offer, despite the fact she doesn't smoke. Ingrid watched the man stroll back liesurely to his empty table to drink alone. She watched him for a few and looked back down at the offering gift in her slender hands. Ingrid wondered in her mind whether she should thank the man properly for helping her, or keep to herself and leave. It was quite a desicion as the woman sighed and made her way to the table of the man. She slowly walked, fiddling with the box in her hands as words flooded through her brain. I should not be doing this, I should leave. Ingrid's inner voice tried to stop her movements, but it was too late.

"Thank you for helping me out... I knew that I should not have come here."

Ingrid smiled slightly as she looked back down at the box in her hands. She gave her attention back to the man. Ingrid stood for a few moments before leaving the table and making her way to her own.