Post by ∬: Gero A. Fritz on May 23, 2008 18:24:16 GMT
OOC: Feel free to join.
Lumbering his heavy rifle over his shoulder, Gero pulled at the leather strap for comfort, feeling the sharp rugged ends of the strap cut and strain against his collarbone. “Dummer Krieg” Gero muttered to himself incoherently to any lurking ears, as his head remained dipped and his hard and dirty leather boots clapped against the cobbled street he walked down. The small German Town barely bristling with life, even during the mid-day semester, hardly anyone roamed the daylight. Perhaps they were fearful to face those brave enough to go to war? Most civilians were guilty, if their son didn’t enlist for the Fatherland or their Daughter didn’t spouse with a soldier, reality was, these people all wore masks. Nazi this! Nazi that! Yet they all turned the cheek when a true Nazi warrior walked through their town. Cowards.
Sighing heavily to himself, Gero’s body stumbled to a stop as a horse and cart suddenly cut past his track and beat, almost sending the Obergefreiter beneath the wheels if he wasn’t careful. “Sie Idiot! Versuchen Sie, mich zu töten!?” angrily unleashed Gero towards the cart’s driver who merely strode on by, sticking his finger up insultingly without looking back. Grunting beneath his breath, he gritted at his teeth to subdue his anger and quietly looked around himself; People, staring. Were they ashamed to have a soldier in their town?
Unable to take anymore of the stray stares or quiet whispers as he walked by them, Gero quickly turned his body down a narrow walkway, evading the hard sun and local stares from the main street. Then, laughter echoed in the small distance and a few random people caught the lisp of his eye, holding large mugs of brew. Smiling to himself momentarily, he dragged at the leather strap draped over his shoulder to gain a little more comfort from the heavy rifle and briskly walked towards the small lively grotto at the end of the narrow walkway. Hopefully, they weren’t Danish or Belgium, small towns had a knack for attracting those sort of inhabitants.
Hardly looking at the few people standing outside with their mugs of beer, Gero pushed at the Tavern’s door and stepped in with a heavy thump from his dirty leather boot, misjudging the step a little. Great, he’d probably just attracted attention he didn’t need from doing that. Pushing aside the thoughts, he continued to step in and slowly push the door closed behind himself, before walking off towards the general direction of the bar. “Abend irgendeine Chance von einem Getränk?” questioned Gero towards the middle-aged blonde woman behind the bar, who fiercely cleaned out one of the large mugs with a rugged dish-towel. “Erscheinen”[/I] she bellowed out, between chewing something between her teeth. Gero smiled awkwardly, hardly feeling welcomed by the rough tone, but none the less, began to remove his helmet, planting it upon the bar top, before dropping his rifle down to rest against the stool.
Unbuttoning a few buttons upon his tunic, the rugged and dirty soldier ran a hand through his greasy hair, whilst he ever so slowly began to sit upon the stool. The place was quiet, not so busy, but there should’ve still been more noise than there actually was; this caused Gero to feel awkward all the more. Awaiting his drink, the Obergefreiter began to shuffle within his seat a little, glancing around somewhat, wondering if anymore of them pesky SS Men would show up today - they’re mainly the ones to why he’d become so dirty within the past forty eight hours.
Translations:[/b]
Dummer Krieg
~ Stupid War
Sie Idiot! Versuchen Sie, mich zu töten!?
~ You idiot! Are you trying to kill me!?
Abend irgendeine Chance von einem Getränk?
~ Evening, any chance of a drink?
Erscheinen
~ Coming up
Lumbering his heavy rifle over his shoulder, Gero pulled at the leather strap for comfort, feeling the sharp rugged ends of the strap cut and strain against his collarbone. “Dummer Krieg” Gero muttered to himself incoherently to any lurking ears, as his head remained dipped and his hard and dirty leather boots clapped against the cobbled street he walked down. The small German Town barely bristling with life, even during the mid-day semester, hardly anyone roamed the daylight. Perhaps they were fearful to face those brave enough to go to war? Most civilians were guilty, if their son didn’t enlist for the Fatherland or their Daughter didn’t spouse with a soldier, reality was, these people all wore masks. Nazi this! Nazi that! Yet they all turned the cheek when a true Nazi warrior walked through their town. Cowards.
Sighing heavily to himself, Gero’s body stumbled to a stop as a horse and cart suddenly cut past his track and beat, almost sending the Obergefreiter beneath the wheels if he wasn’t careful. “Sie Idiot! Versuchen Sie, mich zu töten!?” angrily unleashed Gero towards the cart’s driver who merely strode on by, sticking his finger up insultingly without looking back. Grunting beneath his breath, he gritted at his teeth to subdue his anger and quietly looked around himself; People, staring. Were they ashamed to have a soldier in their town?
Unable to take anymore of the stray stares or quiet whispers as he walked by them, Gero quickly turned his body down a narrow walkway, evading the hard sun and local stares from the main street. Then, laughter echoed in the small distance and a few random people caught the lisp of his eye, holding large mugs of brew. Smiling to himself momentarily, he dragged at the leather strap draped over his shoulder to gain a little more comfort from the heavy rifle and briskly walked towards the small lively grotto at the end of the narrow walkway. Hopefully, they weren’t Danish or Belgium, small towns had a knack for attracting those sort of inhabitants.
Hardly looking at the few people standing outside with their mugs of beer, Gero pushed at the Tavern’s door and stepped in with a heavy thump from his dirty leather boot, misjudging the step a little. Great, he’d probably just attracted attention he didn’t need from doing that. Pushing aside the thoughts, he continued to step in and slowly push the door closed behind himself, before walking off towards the general direction of the bar. “Abend irgendeine Chance von einem Getränk?” questioned Gero towards the middle-aged blonde woman behind the bar, who fiercely cleaned out one of the large mugs with a rugged dish-towel. “Erscheinen”[/I] she bellowed out, between chewing something between her teeth. Gero smiled awkwardly, hardly feeling welcomed by the rough tone, but none the less, began to remove his helmet, planting it upon the bar top, before dropping his rifle down to rest against the stool.
Unbuttoning a few buttons upon his tunic, the rugged and dirty soldier ran a hand through his greasy hair, whilst he ever so slowly began to sit upon the stool. The place was quiet, not so busy, but there should’ve still been more noise than there actually was; this caused Gero to feel awkward all the more. Awaiting his drink, the Obergefreiter began to shuffle within his seat a little, glancing around somewhat, wondering if anymore of them pesky SS Men would show up today - they’re mainly the ones to why he’d become so dirty within the past forty eight hours.
Translations:[/b]
Dummer Krieg
~ Stupid War
Sie Idiot! Versuchen Sie, mich zu töten!?
~ You idiot! Are you trying to kill me!?
Abend irgendeine Chance von einem Getränk?
~ Evening, any chance of a drink?
Erscheinen
~ Coming up
