Mein not-so Lokal

[Rodolph Murdo]

The afternoon had rolled in and Rodolph, who had spent the last three hours waiting in a German pub for his old pen friend, was beginning to get tired. So far, he had not ordered food and the only drink he had had was water. This was all about to change.. Rodolph rose from his seat in one corner of the pub- a corner he had so far reserved for his friend but had had no luck with actually seeing the guy. His eyes roamed about the place, checking that he hadn't missed his friend.. He hadn't. Giving a slight sigh as he plonked his behind down on a bar stool, he smiled at the bartender and ordered a firewhisky.

He considered leaving, going to actually find his old pen-friend. He did have an address and everything. But Rodolph liked to stick to the formalities of life. As he gladly received his whisky and began to down the lot in one heavy gulp, he heard the pub door close and the strong scent of female perfume, wafted into the room. Rodolph turned his head, slowly.

 

[Clara Schwarz]

Germany. Home. Clara found herself in New Zealand more and more these days, especially since she had begun working at the Silver Snake. And New Zealand was comfortable enough, of course, but there was no place like home. Even if home was an empty mansion that she had to dust for cobwebs every month or so. It was still her real home, unlike New Zealand.

Clara had spent the entire afternoon in her old bedroom, reading through her old diary with a small smile. She did not look the type to keep a diary, but as foolish as it was, she did. She had stopped when she was about nineteen, but writing her thoughts down had always helped her to keep her emotions under control. So much so that now she was the perfect image of emotionless and controlling, what she'd always wanted to be. Of course, that was merely on the surface. Inside, she wasn't as calm and collected as she looked, but she at least pretended to be.

Swaying her hips slightly, Clara strode in to the pub - she needed a drink and entertainment after all that sorting and cleaning - with a smirk on her face, as her eyes sought out a victim for tonight. There - a (rather cute) man all alone at the bar. Perfect. Noticing that he was looking at her, Clara put on an innocent smile and walked over to him, sliding elegantly on to the stool next to him. "Is this seat taken?" she asked in English - he looked English, after all - betrayed by her German accent. This looked like it could be fun.

 

[Rodolph Murdo]

Rodolph, who was dressed in a rather tight-necked shirt, tugged at his collar. It loosened slightly. He breathed. "No, not at all." He said, gulping. Well, it wasn't everyday that an elegant and beautiful woman decided that she wanted to sit next to him. Naturally, he found himself becoming increasingly nervous. Should he order her a drink? Is that what you did when such a lovely creature was seated beside you? Or should he just ignore her and wait for his friend? Well, Rodolph was not one for ignoring. However, he did find himself with the urge to boast about being a Quidditch player. And then his brain went off on a tangent, wondering if she liked Quidditch, if she played it and if she had ever heard of him.

Noticing that he had drifted off into a daydream, Rodolph dragged himself back to reality, smiling at the woman beside him. "Would you.. Would you like a drink?" She didn't even know his name yet. He could have been anyone. Rodolph was quick to dive in with another set of words. "Oh, I'm Rodolph Murdo, by the way," he blurted, offering her a hand of greeting. "I'm sorry I'm a little.. out of it, today, but.. Well, I'm just not used to being around a beautiful woman." He had said it before he had realized the words. Rodolph wanted to bury his head, to turn and run. But he had to face the consequences. He was a grown man, now. And so, turning red, he tried to forget what he had just said and instead added "my friends call me Roddy."

Rodolph knew he was winning no points. But then, why did he care? He didn't know this woman from Adam. She was just some person, and yet, he found himself having trouble talking to her, looking her in the eye. It was never this awkward with Nadia, even though they were rivals. Still, it was just as hard no matter what woman he talked to but Nadia.. Nadia didn't intimidate him. She was one for teasing and taunting him, yes, but they had still become good friends.

 

[Clara Schwarz]

Crossing her legs - allowing her to show of just that bit more skin - Clara rested an elbow on the bar, allowing her chin to rest on her palm. She didn't really pull off serene and innocent that well, but she was going to try. Clara liked having her fun. And she knew for a fact that men flocked to beautiful girls who seemed sweet and showed a lot of interest. So even if he bored her to tears, she would pretend to be interested. Today had been dull, apart from laughing at her immaturity, then hating herself for it. She needed a drink and some fun.

"Oh, that would be very lovely of you. I'll have a Firewhiskey." Straight and to the point. Although Clara wasn't like that when she murdered, in her business she didn't beat around the bush. She did smile, more geniunely, as he stuttered at her. He seemed harmless enough. Kinda sweet, really, even if a little silly. "You are too kind," she replied, tilting her head slightly with a gentle smile. "A pleasure to meet you, Rodolph Murdo. My name is Clara Schwarz." Naturally, Clara was extremely proud of her name. It was a good German pureblood name. Which probably meant nothing to this stammering Englishman, but Clara's pride was not to be tarnished.

 

[Rodolph Murdo]

Rodolph ordered the woman a firewhisky, pleased that she hadn't messed him around for at least that one thing. Maybe women other than Nadia weren't so bad, after all.. Still, Rodolph found himself just as intimidated as he had been before: Send him onto a pitch, surrounded by a hundred thousand screaming people, force him to play the toughest game of Quidditch of his life against a group of chinese fireball dragons, if you must, but Rodolph would rather be risking his life out there on the pitch where he was an experienced flier, than risking his 'pride' in a dingy German pub, talking to a woman way out of his league. Actually, this brought up a few thoughts in his head.. Like, was Nadia seeing anybody? Did she have a boyfriend? A girlfriend? A fiance? Rodolph shook himself mentally, once more, as he turned his attention to Clara.

".. Beautiful woman with a beautiful name.." he muttered beneath his breath as the firewhisky arrived for her. Of course she was attractive and the sort of witch every wizard dreamt of- but she was missing something. Something of key importance. She wasn't Nadia. Rodolph had only just begun to realize just how much Nadia was on his mind, how much he had thought about asking her out for a drink again. But he was sure that he had read somewhere, in some wizarding gossip magazine, that Nadia was seeing someone and maybe even engaged. He sighed inwardly before smiling at Clara. "You're spoken for, then?" Rodolph asked her, rhetorically, "all the best women are.." Well, it was worth a shot. Although, this turned out to have been the worst possible moment to speak as, within seconds, Rodolph was looking up at the ceiling. And what a lovely ceiling it was.

 

[Joseph Adler]

Joseph had been outside, one leg up on a bench, a pair of shades practically glued to his face, when Clara had passed him. She didn't seem to notice him which, of course, infuriated Joseph. If there was one thing which really bit at him, it was being ignored. His sister had learnt that trick a long time ago and it still bothered him. Taking one final puff of his fine cigarette, Joseph plucked it from his mouth, dropping it to the ground and stamping down on it. He wore a dark suit, as was usual for the pureblood wizard; any chance to flaunt his wealth was one never to pass Joseph. He could feel his wand still in his pocket, always ready in case he needed it. At a casual pace, Joseph followed the direction Clara had walked and soon found the pub. He pushed the door open..

Okay, in hindsight, Joseph could have reacted better and it would have stirred a lot less suspicion with Clara as to how he felt- No! No, he didn't fell like that. It wasn't like that at all.. was it? He couldn't help his mind wandering for a fraction of a second to that night they had been reunited after so many years..

Joseph wasted no time in striding up to the bar where some man he vaguely recognized, chatted up Clara. It was instinct and he went with it, swinging his fist round at such an angle that he struck the man squarely on the nose, knocking him to the floor with a loud 'thud!' Half the pub crowd looked up from their drinks to see what had happened. Joseph looked from the man on the floor with a bleeding nose, to the crowd and then to Clara. "What?" he said, nonchalant, sitting down in the man's empty seat beside Clara. "You're my mate's sister- I have to take care of you." His eyes were firmly on hers for a moment or too, before relaxing and looking to the bartender, ordering a firewhisky for himself.