Post by Max Pavenic on Oct 30, 2010 17:55:29 GMT
Country: Hamburg, Germany
Current Time: 20:30, October of 1941
Weather conditions: The dark sky is covered by masses of black clouds and the small drizzle is slowly changing into a cold, ruthless downpour.
The shady underground bar was filled to the brim and a steady bustle of sounds filled the murky space, sounds of clinking glasses, roars of laughter and various discussions drowning out the music of the radio sitting upon the stained counter. The foul weather had driven various crooks and swindlers inside the confines of the establishment and the keeper of the place, a rather heavily built German man, was having trouble serving all of his customers. Just time ago he had been employing a pair of Jewish waitresses, but they had received summons for a resettling program that had forced them to move out, forcing the owner to employ someone else. The only waitress in the place, a younger dark-haired female with non-descript, almost mousy looks, was having trouble swerving around the unruly customers as she served drinks or collected empty glasses, all of the men trying to draw her to their lap or to give her bottom a sound slap. All in all, it was a place none of the more respectable people of Hamburg would have ever agreed entering and the patrons ranged from National Socialists to underground Communists - nobody could be sure, because nobody asked, and politics were left outside the door. All these people were after were the drinks or the company, but some of the customers came to deal with the local black market to acquire goods that would have been difficult to procure by any other means.
Even though the man sitting by the far side of the counter next to the wall seemed completely oblivious to the discussions happening around him, he was anything but, and his blue eyes flicked over to regard the other patrons, while his fingers curled around the small glass, the bronze-coloured drink still sitting untouched within. The man's lips were drawn into a tight, serious line, his eyebrows curved into a continuous, contemplative frown, his thick, black jacket and dark-brown trousers only further helping him in blending into his surroundings. Max had seen many places such as this one during his time and he knew that once you had seen one, you had seen them all; they were all filled with nothing but scum, fledgling thieves boasting over their latest accomplishments, imbeciles thinking that they possessed a grasp of how the underground world worked and only a small percent of the crowd occupied by those who could actually be considered dangerous, professional or both. He knew them when he spotted them; he was a professional himself and danger... well, he had seen his fair share of danger, as well.
With an absentminded, automated gesture, Max's hand snaked up to touch the scar upon the side of his neck, his fingertips tracing a slow path over the old wound, now covered by the collar of his thick, dark jacket. These people inside thought they had stared into the abyss, but they knew nothing what it was like to stare into that darkness and see it staring back at you. An involuntary shudder ran down the man's spine and he allowed his hand to drop, fingers curving around the glass to raise it to his lips in a more determined manner. Max felt the burning liquid fill his mouth and he gulped down the contents of the glass, his blue eyes closing briefly to savor the taste, and the man slammed the glass down upon the wooden counter, his eyes snapping open to regard the proprietor. The other man was busy arguing over the prices of the drinks with a rather aggravated, bearded customer, and Max frowned severely, realizing that he would have to wait for another drink for quite some time. Making oneself appear as invisible as possible did have its drawbacks, but then again, he wasn't that desperate for alcohol tonight, anyway.
The dark clouds were gathering, blocking out the light of the last remaining stars upon the sky. Something within Max's frame whispered him songs of evil omens and the man's eyes flicked towards the door involuntarily, the dark-haired man breathing out deeply to steady himself.
Current Time: 20:30, October of 1941
Weather conditions: The dark sky is covered by masses of black clouds and the small drizzle is slowly changing into a cold, ruthless downpour.
The shady underground bar was filled to the brim and a steady bustle of sounds filled the murky space, sounds of clinking glasses, roars of laughter and various discussions drowning out the music of the radio sitting upon the stained counter. The foul weather had driven various crooks and swindlers inside the confines of the establishment and the keeper of the place, a rather heavily built German man, was having trouble serving all of his customers. Just time ago he had been employing a pair of Jewish waitresses, but they had received summons for a resettling program that had forced them to move out, forcing the owner to employ someone else. The only waitress in the place, a younger dark-haired female with non-descript, almost mousy looks, was having trouble swerving around the unruly customers as she served drinks or collected empty glasses, all of the men trying to draw her to their lap or to give her bottom a sound slap. All in all, it was a place none of the more respectable people of Hamburg would have ever agreed entering and the patrons ranged from National Socialists to underground Communists - nobody could be sure, because nobody asked, and politics were left outside the door. All these people were after were the drinks or the company, but some of the customers came to deal with the local black market to acquire goods that would have been difficult to procure by any other means.
Even though the man sitting by the far side of the counter next to the wall seemed completely oblivious to the discussions happening around him, he was anything but, and his blue eyes flicked over to regard the other patrons, while his fingers curled around the small glass, the bronze-coloured drink still sitting untouched within. The man's lips were drawn into a tight, serious line, his eyebrows curved into a continuous, contemplative frown, his thick, black jacket and dark-brown trousers only further helping him in blending into his surroundings. Max had seen many places such as this one during his time and he knew that once you had seen one, you had seen them all; they were all filled with nothing but scum, fledgling thieves boasting over their latest accomplishments, imbeciles thinking that they possessed a grasp of how the underground world worked and only a small percent of the crowd occupied by those who could actually be considered dangerous, professional or both. He knew them when he spotted them; he was a professional himself and danger... well, he had seen his fair share of danger, as well.
With an absentminded, automated gesture, Max's hand snaked up to touch the scar upon the side of his neck, his fingertips tracing a slow path over the old wound, now covered by the collar of his thick, dark jacket. These people inside thought they had stared into the abyss, but they knew nothing what it was like to stare into that darkness and see it staring back at you. An involuntary shudder ran down the man's spine and he allowed his hand to drop, fingers curving around the glass to raise it to his lips in a more determined manner. Max felt the burning liquid fill his mouth and he gulped down the contents of the glass, his blue eyes closing briefly to savor the taste, and the man slammed the glass down upon the wooden counter, his eyes snapping open to regard the proprietor. The other man was busy arguing over the prices of the drinks with a rather aggravated, bearded customer, and Max frowned severely, realizing that he would have to wait for another drink for quite some time. Making oneself appear as invisible as possible did have its drawbacks, but then again, he wasn't that desperate for alcohol tonight, anyway.
The dark clouds were gathering, blocking out the light of the last remaining stars upon the sky. Something within Max's frame whispered him songs of evil omens and the man's eyes flicked towards the door involuntarily, the dark-haired man breathing out deeply to steady himself.
