Running Luck [open!]

[katjevonreinhauf]

[glow=red,2,300]OOC: Open, please join in! This could be interesting![/glow]

Rain pounded on the tin roof above Katje, sounding as if there were a mass herd of sheep dancing on it, stomping and clicking their hooves. Schreckliche Richtung des Rhythmus, she thought, imagining the dancing ewes. In any case, this was her time to rise from her sleep. She batted her eyes with her hands as if she were a cat, attempting to swat the sleep the sandman had brought for her just four hours ago.

After her shower in her private bunker, she slipped on training gear: a pair of black combat boots, a pair of pants, and a white shirt that she had altered using her own crafty skills to fit her perfectly. Oh, and perhaps a smudge of lipstick, for good luck. Though she knew she was going to be training in the rain, a little attention to aesthetics never hurt. Kat tucked her grandmother’s gold necklace inside her shirt, and began to stretch for her running.

Out the door and into the crisp morning air despite the moisture, Kat ran. She slowed her pace when running around the men’s bunker, seeing if she could sneak a small look. It really meant nothing, but Katje’s curiosity often bit her where it hurts. She noticed the windows on the bunkers were higher than normal. She knew that if she wanted to see the goings-on of the men in the camp, to really get to know the lives of these gentlemen with whom she shared a battlefield, she would have to climb for it.

So thus, after very little thought and just being gosh-darn over impulsive, she became weary from climbing up the side of the bunker. Her hands were close to the windows, yet so very far away. Ich möchte gerade sehen! Alles das ist, gerade ein Blick. Es verletzt nicht eine Seele! She muttered. Rain poured down harder on her now, as she grasped the window pane. Her boots began to slide down the bricks of the housing, and soon enough, Kat was losing her grip. Water from the atmosphere dropped down, and somehow found its way under her fingers. She peeked in, eyes looking only to see the ceiling before her hands had given way. She dropped at least five feet, in sync with the raindrops, only to find herself splashed with thick mud in a puddle of wet dirt and what she thought to smell of…old beer? She looked up at the window and cursed at it. She was indeed covered in the sludge, and then it hit her. She’d have to walk through the center of the camp in order to return to her own bunker. Wie auf Masse bin ich Gehen, dieses zu erklären?!

---

Translations:

Wie auf Masse bin ich Gehen, dieses zu erklären?!
How on earth am I going to explain this!?

Ich möchte gerade sehen! Alles das ist, gerade ein Blick. Es verletzt nicht eine Seele!
I just want to see! That’s all, just a look. It won’t hurt a soul!

Schreckliche Richtung des Rhythmus
Horrible sense of rhythm

[Leon Wolfgang]

OOC: Hope you don’t mind me joining?

Leon’s feet slowly patted along the cold concrete ground, leaving wet imprints of his bare cold feet as he briskly walked. A towel draped around his waist and his blue eyes glanced between the other males as he passed them, all of which had just too come of out of the shower. The shower room was particularly large, as Leon felt one of the men teasingly lash their towel at him, causing the Flight Lieutenant to buck his legs forwards, before abruptly turning to point and half laughingly spit out “Schauen Sie ihm zu! Wenn ich gehabt habe, hat mein eigenes Duschenhemmnis auf von diesem Regen nicht gehabt - ich würde es mit Ihnen Menge nicht teilen!” but the Pilot was only jokingly telling them off, as the infantry men laughed a little and began to usher him out, some of them grasping the Pilot by his biceps, as they began to push him out of the door, which just happened to be the outside door… Rather than the corridor…

As Leon stumbled out onto the cold black tarmac, doused in rain, he quickly turned to run back in, but found the large cast iron plated door slammed shut. It wasn’t his fault! The Hangar nearby was flooded due in the night, so he was briskly ordered to take refuge down in the barracks, where he’d shower and sleep. Heck, Leon was a Flight Lieutenant, a Captain of the airfield, but also a very fun loving person - which was probably why the infantry men took too much kindness to his ‘friendly side’ rather than his ‘working side’, but anyhow, what Pilots had control over a rowdy bunch of brutes? He was just thankful the men fighting on the ground were larger than life, he’d hate to see the infantry looking like a spoiled bag of sweets. Bitter.

Thumping his fist against his door and quickly folding his arms up against his chest from the bitter chill of standing outside. Leon gazed around quickly, seeing no one about, but that hadn’t of changed the fact he’d soon be walking through the barracks in nothing but a towel, just to reach his makeshift bunk that had all of his gear.

As the Flight Lieutenant quickly embarked from off his spot, he turned the corner to feel his feet sink into the mud - Great! But didn’t slow, as he began to feel the rain wet his torso again and soak up into his flimsy towel, but what the Flight Lieutenant hadn’t anticipated, was something or someone - in this case, suddenly falling into the muck of the mud a mere few feet away, causing an onslaught of dirty water sprout up against him. Leon hadn’t really been watching where he was heading, as his head was all beckoned down, trying to avoid the cold rain, but laying his eyes upon what seemed to a be a soldier plainly sprawled out in front of him almost, the Pilot had a slight embarrassed look.

“Ah, entschuldigen Sie mich Soldat, Sie könnten nicht helfen mir, zurück zum zu werden, buhe könnte Sie aus? Oder…” but the Flight Lieutenant soon stopped, as he saw just how muddy and mucky the soldier looked ‘himself’ as Leon uttered out “Duschen Sie Zimmer wieder”, the Pilot hadn’t a clue where he was going, more so, he was absolutely freezing and wet again, bared only in his towel - how embarrassing, more so, he didn’t realise he was talking to a young woman - which would soon enough bring another look to his face.

Translations:[/b]

Schauen Sie ihm zu! Wenn ich gehabt habe, hat mein eigenes Duschenhemmnis auf von diesem Regen nicht gehabt - ich würde es mit Ihnen Menge nicht teilen!
- Watch it! If i hadn't have had my own showers clog up from this rain - i wouldn't be sharing it with you lot!

Ah, entschuldigen Sie mich Soldat, Sie könnten nicht helfen mir, zurück zum zu werden, buhe könnte Sie aus? Oder...
- Ah, excuse me soldier, you couldn't help me get back to the barracks could you? Or...

Duschen Sie Zimmer wieder.
- Shower Room, again.

[katjevonreinhauf]

OOC: Of course I don't mind, dearie!

Katje looked meekly upward, and wiped the mud from her face with her forearm. She was, at this point, caught. "Umm....uhh..." She whipped up thousands of possible lies within her mind, saying nothing except "Hallo...ehh...." By the time this was muttered, she had lost all opportunity to say something false. Yeah, this time she may have to suffer a consequence.

She hadn't seen this man around camp before, though it didn't matter. If he was some sort of commander, she was to be condemned. Thoughts of punishment roused her mind, and she began to shake without control. The chill of the rainy air did nothing to help her situation. Her intelligent conversation skills lacked greatly at the moment.

She sat, in the muck, and less-than-promptly uttered the unbelievable words: "Ich bin, geehrter Herr, ich bedeutete nicht einzudringen, ich suchte nur nach meinem Schlauch des Lippenstifts sehr traurig." For once, she winced at her own lie. She knew she was in for it if she didn't go along with it and follow through. Quickly she changed the subject: "Ich kann Ihnen helfen, zurück zu der Dusche zu erhalten, aber Sie schauen kalt. Kommen Sie mit mir? She blushed. She was at the pinnacle of embarassment at this point, heat began to rise to her face more rapidly as time went on. What was she to do with herself now? She needed another shower as well. She was still sitting in the puddle.

---

Translations

"Ich bin, geehrter Herr, ich bedeutete nicht einzudringen, ich suchte nur nach meinem Schlauch des Lippenstifts sehr traurig." :

I was, dear sir, I did not mean to invade, I was just looking for my tube of lipstick.

Ich kann Ihnen helfen, zurück zu der Dusche zu erhalten, aber Sie schauen kalt. Kommen Sie mit mir?:

I can help you to get back to the shower, but you look cold. Will you come with me?

---

[Leon Wolfgang]

As the Flight Lieutenant stood within a real, degrading position. He could only imagine the thoughts of the mucky soldier’s impression upon him, but then again, who could tell poor Leon was a high standard pilot? He didn’t wear his coat of arms, bare any insignia to the Luftwaffe (German Air force) and further more, he was within a barracks. All the commanding officers would’ve been tucked up in the Officer’s mess somewhere, brandishing their ego over glasses of whisky and scotch. An American delight, that presumably, most Germans liked themselves.

Shivering quietly to himself, Leon’s nimble, yet manly fingers, tucked up beneath his armpits as he squinted a little from the rain now beginning to reframe from his brow, trickling against his eyes and facial features. The young soldier’s weak voice seemed to differ for a moment, most likely feeling embarrassed and shocked themselves, being found unhealthily dirty and rolling in the mud, but as the young soldier began to speak more clearly, the mud slowly drooling down the young person’s face, revealing somewhat piercing eyes and what seemed to be longer than standard army hair - Leon’s mouth slightly dropped.

Lipstick? was he could think to himself for a moment, wondering what on heck a soldier would be prancing around looking for a lipstick!? Until her apparent complexion and voice began to ring bells to his ears, she was a woman (duh?). As Leon’s body stiffened up and his mouth wavered open a little, completely embarrassed to be caught, practically naked, in a flimsy tail strapped to his waist, the Flight Lieutenant uttered out “Uh... Klar... Wir... Werden Sie am besten hinein”, Leon was obviously a little shocked, as he staggered off his heels to lean down a little and curve his hands up beneath the young woman’s arms to try and help up. Seeming more gentlemanly now.

As Leon somewhat stood a little un-eager on his toes, he looked to the young woman with his dreary eyes from the rain, awaiting her to make a move or something, still seemingly looking like he was in shock. “Ich bin, erbärmlich für --” he firstly slipped out, before stopping halfway through to tug up his towel a little, feeling it slip down his hips slightly, not really able to complete his sentence with ‘for being half naked’, as he stood there, getting wetter by the moment, almost like he was waiting for Christmas?


Translations:[/b]

Uh... Klar... Wir... Werden Sie am besten hinein.
- Uh... Yeah... We... Best get inside.

Ich bin, erbärmlich für --
- I'm, sorry for --

[Christopher J. D'Dario]

OOC: If you two would like to keep this Post between you I can delete mine, you know, let you two young ducks frolic in the mud together.... Hehehe....
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CJ sat hunched over a desk, he was alone in the barracks, most of the soldiers had been moved out yesterday, other transferred to another barracks, CJ had chosen to remain behind, and he liked the silence. It gave him time to think, and write. His pen danced across the paper, a letter home. A few open envelopes sat around him, the scent of perfume drifting from the pages of script. His dear Isabella had been missing him for quite some time.

He was half way through the third page when he decided to take a short break, maybe something would be cooked up at the mess hall, it was near breakfast and soon everyone in the camp would be making his or her way to the Mess. CJ was good friends with a few of the cooks; he had often used them to get some half decent food. He got to his feet and pulled on his shirt before making his way toward the door, something caused him to stop. Movement outside the window, he took a step backward and gazed out as someone tried to climb up the side of a barracks. He tilted his head with wonder and stifled a laugh as the person fell to the mud.

With a grin on his face he continued watching as someone walked around the side of the Barracks, in a towel? What was going on in this base? People falling from windows and taking strolls in the rain wearing towels. Had the place gone nutty? He walked to the door and opened it, taking a step out but holding onto the door handle with one hand. "Hey! Sie zwei, Warum sind Sie in den Regen? Come inside, bevor Sie einfrieren."
CJ shouted out to them, He waved at them and pointed inside.


Translation:
1. Hey! You two, Why are you out in the rain? Come inside before you freeze.

[katjevonreinhauf]

OOC: Oh my, no, you're welcome to join =3

---

Katje looked down at herself. She had nothing to say. As the gentleman helped her up, however, she seemed to blush even more furiously. She hadn't gotten that treatment, even from her grandfather, back at home. She was genuinely about to smile, though she held it back, as she knew that smiling would not have fit the current situation of etiquette. She knew that ladies were supposed to be plucked from the ground when they fell, as that was the way things were supposed to work, at least to the ladies that were richer and more refined than she. As she was placed with her feet back on the ground in the proper position, she stifled a giggle. She looked up at the man, and promptly coughed to cover it. She shook her head, and politely thanked him. "Danke, mein schoenen Herr." WAIT. She thought, schoenen?! Schoenen!??! Certainly she did not say that! "Ach..." she coughed furiously now to try to distract the gentleman's mind from what she said. Soon enough, another gentleman had caught her attention, standing in the doorway...of the barracks she was trying to look into! Thoughts of dread raced through her mind yet again as she thought perhaps the soldier in the doorway would tell the soldier in front of her the truth about what she had done!


She had dug herself a hole, now she had to lay in it. Thoughts of belly-flopping back into the puddle crossed her mind. If she pretended to be crazy, she thought, they may go a bit easier on her. She looked up at the man in the towel once again after listening to the soldier in the doorway's request to come inside. She waited to see what he would do first, with her new-found sense of fragility and lady-like manners.


Of course, upon looking at the soldier in the towel, she couldn't help but notice a spot of dirt on the man's nose. Swiftly, she motioned to brush it off, but to no avail. She had made it worse, and now a streak of mud from her hand lie across his face. "Ach! Mein schoe-...herr....erm...." She coughed more. This seemed to be the only thing that could make her seem credible, though it did nothing. She had certainly, at this point, made a fool of herself.

[Leon Wolfgang]

OOC: -Cries!- You didn’t put any translations, never mind. XP

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Leon’s body trembled softly, looking somewhat sleek when he was wet, as his defined physic tensed up and his longer than average “infantry man’s” hair dwelled about his face slightly. The young Flight Lieutenant hadn’t anticipated the situation in which he was caught in, more so, when the young woman uttered out ‘Beautiful Gentleman’, that inevitably caused Leon to slightly divert his eyes from a slight awkwardness, particularly when he began to feel the towel draping down his backside a little, the knot he’d roughly folded around the back just ‘happened’ to slip undone - Leon’s nimble fingers clinching at the soaked through towel, sparing him from any further embarrassment.

As someone briskly opened a nearby door, causing Leon to bite his lower lip and close his eyes slightly - again out of sheer embarrassment, he was thankful that the corresponding male offered a refuge, rather than an immature joke of their predicament. As Leon’s mouth slowly gaped open, about to say something, the young woman caught him for words, as her hand slipped up to his face, softly touching at his nose. Leon’s eyes ever so quietly slithered down towards the woman’s gaze, as if the touch reminded him of something? That, caring side? Something he hadn’t experience in years - a woman’s touch.

The Pilot stood abruptly quiet for a moment, his eyes laid upon the young woman, who could’ve done with a towel to wipe the dirt away, rather than his fingers in return; slowly coming to his senses, Leon’s eyes broke the alluring gaze, as he returned his attention back towards the male nearby, merely nodding briskly without wasting anymore time with talk. Slightly twisting his body, making sure he had the gruff of the towel held up within one hand behind his back, he grasped the young woman by the wrist, as if to say ‘C’mon’ like she had no other choice.

Shifting passed the kind male, Leon’s body continued to tremble even more, as he roughly turned having let go of the young woman, nodding towards the fellow soldier to speak “V-V-Vielen Dank” the cold male said as he shuddered, beginning to look a little blue under the gills, the chill setting in slightly, obviously needing warmth and fresh clothes - or a warm shower… either way, he stood politey still, glancing around the room slowly, trying to avoid looking at the young woman a little, not just from embarrassment, but because she had qualities that seemed to make him - feel strange.

Translations:[/b]

V-V-Vielen Dank
- T-T-Thank You

[Christopher J. D'Dario]

CJ stood back out of the door way as the two entered. They where muddy, wet, and obviously cold. After they had both gotten inside CJ closed the door and walked over to the boiler, lighting it and putting a kettle on top of it. He walked over to his bunk and grabbed a dry towel, then snatched another one from the bunk next to him and threw them to the two people he had invited into his Barracks.

After putting some more wood into the boiler he found a few cups and some teabags. Tea was the best thing in his opinion for a cold. While he waited for the water to boil he lent on a nearby bunk, his eyes gazing over the two of them. "Es gibt eine Duschkabine in den Rücken, können Sie bis zu reinigen, wenn man so will, aber seine offene Raum, so möchten Sie vielleicht Dusche eins nach dem anderen." He pointed to the back of the Barracks where an open door gave view to a wall of showers. He smiled as the kettle boiled quickly and said to himself in Italian. "A meno che essi non vogliono doccia insieme."

He smiled as he poured the hot water over into the cup and passed one to each of them. "Zucker und Milch befindet sich auf meinem Schreibtisch, helfen euch." He pointed to the small packets of sugar and the steel pitcher of milk. "Mein Name ist Christopher James D'Dario, können Sie rufen Sie mich an CJ. Seine A. .. Unterwegs zu begrüßen Sie in meine Kaserne" He may be speaking German, but his Italian hospitality shone through the rough language.

He looked to the female. "Darf ich Sie fragen, warum, wo und mit dem Schlamm?" He chose not to include into the question that he as seen her trying to peek into the Barracks. He then looked at the man in the towel. "Und warum sind Sie in den Regen, aber nichts mit einem Handtuch?" He poured himself a cup of tea as well, while he waited for the two to answer. As far as he knew, he was the ranking officer.



Translation:
1. There's a shower room in the back, you can get cleaned up if you like, but its an open room, so you might want to shower one after the other.
2. Unless they want to shower together
3. Sugar and milk is on my desk, help yourselves.
4. My name is Christoper James D'Dario, you may call me CJ. its a... Pleasure to welcome you into my barracks
5. Might I ask why you where laying in the mud?
6. And why you are out in the rain with nothing but a towel on?

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

CLOSED

Katje - 6 CP

Leon - 6 CP

Christopher - 4 CP