Post by Otto Wolff on Jun 6, 2009 22:29:54 GMT
Place: Berlin, Germany
Current Time: Around 22.00
Weather Conditions: A crisp, chilling wind. A promise of either very cold rain or maybe snow is in the air as clouds keep gathering in the sky.
A cold wind was blowing amidst the buildings of Berlin, making a few stray scraps of paper dance along the street. The chill of the winter still lingered in the end of March and the streets were rather empty at such late hour. The cold weather was not the sole reason for the quiet streets, however. Berlin had become an increasingly treacherous place for the common folk and people preferred to stay in the safety of their homes. The war treated the soldiers of the Reich harshly on all the different fronts it was being fought at, but the civilians also suffered from the conflict. Otto Wolff was one of the people who tried to live his life mostly in the same way he had lived before the war, although it was becoming more difficult each day.
Otto was a tall man who carried himself in the manner of a confident and somewhat presumptuous businessman. His deep-set blue eyes were slightly tinged with green and most of the times Otto seemed to regard his surroundings with a scowl, as if he never quite liked what he saw. His nose was slightly crooked due to an old boxing injury and the fact that he was rarely seen smiling made him just the more intimidating. Over the years Otto's dark hair had started thinning and his hairline had moved treacherously up, but Otto considered this a small price for all the wealth of wisdom the years had brought him. In his opinion a man at of fifty was at just the right age to actually finally understand how the world worked and Otto looked back at his younger years with detest. He might have been younger, faster and carefree back then, but now he had money, a respectable career and a wealth valuable knowledge, all of this achieved during years of continuous work.
There were only so many things money could buy these days and it made Otto irritated. He had become used to getting exactly what he wanted when he wanted it and this whole war was really taking a toll on his demanding lifestyle. Otto pulled the collar of his long, black jacket up to cover his neck from the cold wind. He did not usually walk back home like this. His car had broken down during his lunch hour and it had irritated him enough for him to just decide and just walk back home in the evening. It was stupid, he could have just as well gotten a taxi or have someone drive him home, but that would have been admitting defeat against that blasted vehicle. As if that had not been enough, he had other reasons to be ill-tempered today. Currently he was not quite sure which subject of irritation he should have been concentrating on and that just fed his anger even more.
Otto clasped the rolled-up newspaper in his gloved hand and narrowed his eyes as he finally arrived at the door of an old, two-story building. The house had been built out of grey stone and decorated with masterful images of lions and eagles chiseled into the stone. Otto opened the oaken door and arrived in the vast lobby. The building wasn't very large and it included only four private apartments, all of considerable size and comfort. In his vast vanity Otto had bought the other penthouse apartment for his uses. With the growing threat of the air raids made by the allied forces this had not possibly been such a good idea, but at least there was a secure shelter in the basement where all the inhabitants of the building could run to seek refuge from the bombs.
Otto walked up the stairs of the half-spiral staircase, the impression on his face growing more dangerous with each step he took. The man fumbled for his keys for a while, opened the door with an angry pull and stepped into the hallway of his apartment. The apartment had high ceilings and expensive wood paneling decorated each room. There was not much furniture around yet, Otto had moved into the place less than two weeks ago. His study was fully decorated though and he had made sure that his beloved black piano had been brought from Münich to his new apartment. Otto had made a fuss of making sure that the beautiful piano had been carefully transported and moved into the dining room.
A sleek red and black Doberman Pinscher slinked happily into the hallway to greet the man, but Otto pushed the dog away in an irritated manner. The dog whined pitifully and wagged it's short tail in a desperate attempt to appease it's master, but Otto made no note of the animal. He left his long coat and expensive black shoes in the hallway, revealing the plain dark suit he usually wore to work. Otto continued his way into the dining room, a scornful look on his face. The dog followed the man with a confused expression, it's cropped ears perked forwards as it tried carefully study the mood of it's master.
"Zelda, was ist das?", Otto asked in his low, slightly husky voice as he slammed the newspaper on the dining room table. He had already folded the newspaper from the correct page to reveal a picture of a dazzling blonde woman posing for the camera. The lady in the picture was wearing a simple but flattering dress, maybe showing just a little bit of cleavage and skin to remind the soldiers of the Reich just what they were fighting for. It was not an especially daring picture, as such an image would have been frowned on in a publication such as this, but it was just too much for Otto.
Translations:
"Zelda, was ist das?"
"Zelda, what is this?"
Current Time: Around 22.00
Weather Conditions: A crisp, chilling wind. A promise of either very cold rain or maybe snow is in the air as clouds keep gathering in the sky.
A cold wind was blowing amidst the buildings of Berlin, making a few stray scraps of paper dance along the street. The chill of the winter still lingered in the end of March and the streets were rather empty at such late hour. The cold weather was not the sole reason for the quiet streets, however. Berlin had become an increasingly treacherous place for the common folk and people preferred to stay in the safety of their homes. The war treated the soldiers of the Reich harshly on all the different fronts it was being fought at, but the civilians also suffered from the conflict. Otto Wolff was one of the people who tried to live his life mostly in the same way he had lived before the war, although it was becoming more difficult each day.
Otto was a tall man who carried himself in the manner of a confident and somewhat presumptuous businessman. His deep-set blue eyes were slightly tinged with green and most of the times Otto seemed to regard his surroundings with a scowl, as if he never quite liked what he saw. His nose was slightly crooked due to an old boxing injury and the fact that he was rarely seen smiling made him just the more intimidating. Over the years Otto's dark hair had started thinning and his hairline had moved treacherously up, but Otto considered this a small price for all the wealth of wisdom the years had brought him. In his opinion a man at of fifty was at just the right age to actually finally understand how the world worked and Otto looked back at his younger years with detest. He might have been younger, faster and carefree back then, but now he had money, a respectable career and a wealth valuable knowledge, all of this achieved during years of continuous work.
There were only so many things money could buy these days and it made Otto irritated. He had become used to getting exactly what he wanted when he wanted it and this whole war was really taking a toll on his demanding lifestyle. Otto pulled the collar of his long, black jacket up to cover his neck from the cold wind. He did not usually walk back home like this. His car had broken down during his lunch hour and it had irritated him enough for him to just decide and just walk back home in the evening. It was stupid, he could have just as well gotten a taxi or have someone drive him home, but that would have been admitting defeat against that blasted vehicle. As if that had not been enough, he had other reasons to be ill-tempered today. Currently he was not quite sure which subject of irritation he should have been concentrating on and that just fed his anger even more.
Otto clasped the rolled-up newspaper in his gloved hand and narrowed his eyes as he finally arrived at the door of an old, two-story building. The house had been built out of grey stone and decorated with masterful images of lions and eagles chiseled into the stone. Otto opened the oaken door and arrived in the vast lobby. The building wasn't very large and it included only four private apartments, all of considerable size and comfort. In his vast vanity Otto had bought the other penthouse apartment for his uses. With the growing threat of the air raids made by the allied forces this had not possibly been such a good idea, but at least there was a secure shelter in the basement where all the inhabitants of the building could run to seek refuge from the bombs.
Otto walked up the stairs of the half-spiral staircase, the impression on his face growing more dangerous with each step he took. The man fumbled for his keys for a while, opened the door with an angry pull and stepped into the hallway of his apartment. The apartment had high ceilings and expensive wood paneling decorated each room. There was not much furniture around yet, Otto had moved into the place less than two weeks ago. His study was fully decorated though and he had made sure that his beloved black piano had been brought from Münich to his new apartment. Otto had made a fuss of making sure that the beautiful piano had been carefully transported and moved into the dining room.
A sleek red and black Doberman Pinscher slinked happily into the hallway to greet the man, but Otto pushed the dog away in an irritated manner. The dog whined pitifully and wagged it's short tail in a desperate attempt to appease it's master, but Otto made no note of the animal. He left his long coat and expensive black shoes in the hallway, revealing the plain dark suit he usually wore to work. Otto continued his way into the dining room, a scornful look on his face. The dog followed the man with a confused expression, it's cropped ears perked forwards as it tried carefully study the mood of it's master.
"Zelda, was ist das?", Otto asked in his low, slightly husky voice as he slammed the newspaper on the dining room table. He had already folded the newspaper from the correct page to reveal a picture of a dazzling blonde woman posing for the camera. The lady in the picture was wearing a simple but flattering dress, maybe showing just a little bit of cleavage and skin to remind the soldiers of the Reich just what they were fighting for. It was not an especially daring picture, as such an image would have been frowned on in a publication such as this, but it was just too much for Otto.
Translations:
"Zelda, was ist das?"
"Zelda, what is this?"
