I constantly subject myself to roleplays, and if you ever want to do one with me, feel free to message me privately. We can discuss setting, scene, and characters, and overall what you want to get out of it.
This page is a work in progress. I’m going to attempt to add a roleplay highlight consisting of roleplays I absolutely adored.
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Roleplay: A Toast To Our Basterds
Alternate Universe (Characters Aldo Raine, and Bridget Von Hammersmark from Inglourious Basterds)
Roleplayers:
http://hitlered.tumblr.com/ as Aldo
http://cupajo.tumblr.com/ as Bridget
Bridget tapped her shoe impatiently as she waited outside of the bar, her hair up in neat curls had begun to come undone in the warm, humid air. The sun had already set, oddly enough, her face was warm, the air sticking to her cheeks. Letting out a sigh of hot breath she rummaged through her purse, double checking the time the Lieutenant had given her for their meeting. It had been a few months since the success of Operation Kino, her brain child, her pride. Though it hadn’t worked out to her original planning, she had managed to survive, along with a few other members of the Basterds. Grumbling to herself, she felt annoyance bubble in her veins, had Aldo stood her up? Glancing backwards she decided to enter the bar, “I’m already here, I might as vell have a drink.”
Pushing the front door open, she was surprised to be greeted with the aroma of sweet spices and alcohol, a fragrance that didn’t usually go together. Then again, since she had come to America with the remaining survivors, she hadn’t exactly adjusted to everything around her. One thing in particular„ the change in status, she was no longer a glamorous star, but just a civilian, it caused her to frown. Looking around the small tavern, her eyes rested on a taller, well built man sitting at the front bar. Downing a shot of what looked like Whiskey. “Ah, hello Leiutenant, good to see you here… On time, and in good ‘spirits’.” She sat down next to him, pulling out a cigarette and stretching her hand out towards him “Got a light?”
It wasn’t like Aldo to really set up a date with a woman like so. In fact, he wouldn’t even consider it a date of the sorts. More of just something on considerable celebratory necessities. It had only been a few months since the fall of the Third Reich and since then, life had been getting back on tracks, but that statement was more of an understatement if anything. He was getting impatient waiting at the bar for the other to attend to him. It was still humorous that he had to wait for someone that had lost her acting career, clearly her actress tendencies still played out through her. Aldo took his drink and chugged it down, slapping his hand against the wooden bar, requesting another order of scotch.
Finally a flushed looking blonde caught a seat next to him, he tilted his chin in the air, paying attention to his presence before looking onward, “Von Hammersmark.” His tone bored with her already. She already emphasized her sentence enough as if she was doubting his mood, course he would never define himself as being in high spirits either. He cleared his throat, peering down at the pretty little hand in front of him, he dug deep into his trouser pockets, fumbling with spare change and papers and his infamous snuff container. Finally he pulled out only a couple of matches. Emitting a flame, he brought it to her cigarette. “There ya are.” He responded, keeping his matches on the bar. “Pleasure to see ya,” He said, unsure on how to strike a conversation, “Been a while after all.”
Bridget lifted the lit cigarette to her lips, which had been lightly painted a pale red. A wisp of smoke being forced out along with her previous stress, which had gone down since she realized where Aldo had been keeping himself, while she waited impatiently. “Mmmm, thank you.” Her other hand rubbed the back of her neck and she took another drag. “It has been avhile, almost too long considering the circumstances.” The bartender approached her, whom she offered a pleasant smile, “Champagne please.” The bartender shook his head and laughed almost silently, he could already tell she wasn’t from around there. Feeling uncomfortable with the judgment her smile dropped. She put the cigarette back in between her lips, and as she breathed out the fog she started her speech, “so, Aldo, vhy the sudden contact? It seems out of character for you to be sitting at a bar, inviting a German woman like myself out for drinks.” The bartender set down a small glass, the rim bubbling with the golden liquid inside. She nodded her head in a thank you, and took a sip. Her brows arching as she looked at Aldo curiously.
Aldo exchanged of look of amusement between the bartender. Inviting a German double agent out to his hometown in Tennessee maybe wasn’t of the best ideas. The bartender raised a brow and had to dig deep below the cabinets for a suitable champagne. Aldo glanced back towards Bridget and shrugged. “What can I say, now? Been pretty preoccupied these last few months, finally been able to find myself a moment’s peace now.” There was no point driving into detail about any honorary moments, what he had received, Bridget was there along to receive most of the fame as well. And his own personal moments were no point in getting deep into. He started playing with the edge of the bar, waiting patiently for their drinks to return and in the meanwhile, he exchanged another glance with the bartender as Bridget went back to talking. The other raised a brow at him, from being acquainted with the Lieutenant as a regular costumer, he knew just as much Bridget wasn’t his cup of tea, but when working along with somebody in a life or death situation, emotions arise that are far too complex to explain with a simple facial expression.
He looked back at Bridget and shrugged, it was more of a struggle than he imagined to talk to Bridget like she was a normal person. “Ya caught me, it ain’t like me in the least to invite someone like you in particular to a place I would once commonly hang out.” He didn’t mean it as an insult, but his tone begged to differ, regardless he was only being honest. “I figured that it’d outta be nice to celebrate among ourselves. See, we’ve been surrounded by publicity due to our own military exploits.” He forced a smile, “Ya like drinkin’, smokin’ and orderin’ in restaurants right? Well, two outta three ain’t bad. Unless, ‘course you consider this one more than a bar.”
Bridget could understand how there had been little contact considering how preoccupied they had been with the fame of “Ending the war.” Then again, the fame had not been quite as she had expected. The men involved, at least the American men had received the most attention, Americans being as patriotic as they were, had found more interest in admiring the success of their own, versus the two Germans who had come back. At the though she felt her stomach turn over, the though of that Colonel, Hans Landa, the one that escaped with more prizes than any of them had, and the man hadn’t even been on their side. He called her a traitor, but he was the traitor. She took another drink in order to drown out the bitter memories, forcing her thoughts back to Aldo. With his usual raised brows, and under bite, one might think he was a more comical looking figure. In actuality he wasn’t half bad looking, Bridget did find some sort of modest appeal in his looks, that attracted her to him. It was just his personality that turned her off.
She nodded at the mention of publicity, again agreeing with his defense. He usually was persuasive in his arguments, regardless of how she wanted them to go. “You’re correct Aldo, if I may call you that, I do like drinking, smoking and ordering in restaurants. So let’s make the best of our ‘reunion’ and drink to those who didn’t make it this far.” She raised her glass and smiled, “to the Basterds, and every person who stood in the vay of the source of evil.” Her mouth twinged as the glasses clinked together, anticipation for the large gulp she was about to take. “Now if you don’t mind me excusing any formalities, let’s get good and as you Americans say, plastered.”
The bartender handed him back his own whiskey and her own tall glass of champagne. Aldo nodded towards him, eyes fixated back towards Bridget. “I don’t care what ya address me by.” Aldo scoffed. That thought over the life and death situation they drew themselves in caused him and his men to resort to calling her tasteless names. It was amazing that they were able to get through the mission without killing each other. “In fact, if anything, you owe me a insulting name.” He was able to crack a small smile in her direction. He grabbed a hold of his new glass of whiskey, holding it in the air, “‘N to yourself ‘an Operation Kino, without you or the plan, this year might’a been followed up by the continuation of Nazi dick heads.” Aldo clinked his glass against hers and finished his drink down in own swig.
He made a sound of satisfaction as he planted his drink back down on the bar, slapping his hand multiple times on the wood, wanting another drink. The smile on his face grew with Bridget’s next comment, “Plastered?” He couldn’t help but laugh. Bridget’s past time of choice was drinking regardless, he imagined that she was able to hold her own liquor, at least somewhat decently but Aldo was a different story. The man was surrounded by alcohol, pure alcohol. Plastered would be a difficult task to achieve but he’d play along, “Darlin’.” He leans in close towards her, “I reckon you don’t know a lot ‘bout me an’ all, but if you’re hopin’ in gettin’ shit faced drunk tonight you best be payin’ because hon, it’s gon’ take a lot of drinkin’.”
“Aldo it is then.” she smiled, she had gotten closer to him than she had expected. The again, he didn’t display the general etiquette that most Germans she had known did, he was, rough around the edges if anything. Quite possibly rough on the inside as well, but somewhere, there was a gentleman of sorts. “An insulting name you say, well I’ll have to hold you to that.” Raising her glass she smiled in a coy manner, the man was actually complementing her. Now Bridget knew she wasn’t exactly the nicest Fraulein in the known world, but for Aldo Raine, the man who reacts as immaturely to the slightest set back or distraction to actually complement her, well it was an enhancement on both her ego and confidence. She couldn’t help but laugh at his vulgarity, “thank you Aldo, glad to see my part recognized.” She scoffed sarcastically at her own comment, her pride was well known, but at the same time she had realized that it wouldn’t have been possible without the men.
She grinned as the liquid poured down her throat, Aldo immediately reacting to her need to waste her mind away with liquor. His laughter was surprising, “mmm, yes,” she cleared her throat. Reacting to him by leaning in as well, “vell darling, if I’m to learn more about you and your American vays, I say it’s time to order me something more up to your level.” Pushing the edge of her cigarette into the astray, realizing that she had left it burning in the dish while she toasted along with Aldo. Smiling confidently she sat back in her seat, “I’ll teach you how a real woman drinks, Aldo.”
“You’re stereotyping now, being American doesn’t mean someone can hold their liquor well. In fact, you ain’t seen Utivich hold his own damn liquor, son starts hiccuping a storm. This is coming from a man who’s been surrounded by liquor since he graduated high school.” With that, the cocky grin he’s known for spurts and his teeth show. “However, you put up a real test, we’ll see just how well a German princess can really hold her liquor.” He spins on his stool to the bartender, “Samberg, we’re gonna start with a White Russian, two, one for me and one for princess over here.” He turns back to Bridget, “It’s a cocktail, we’ll move onto the straight stuff shortly.”
He reaches into his pocket, grabbing out his snuff container, planting it on the counter. He needed his fix desperately if he was going to hit it off with Bridget. Flicking it open, he takes a pinch between his index finger and thumb, waiting for their drinks. It wasn’t how he expected his evening with a German actress to go, but he was all for it. In fact, he was really starting to thoroughly enjoy the whole aspect of it. The bartender slid their drinks to one another, “I wish you luck, ma’am.” He tips his chin upwards for her, “Mind if I play the record?” Aldo shook his head no, “Go right ahead.” He takes a small pinch of tobacco and snorts it, before taking his drink. “Ladies first.” He says, gesturing to her with his cup before swigging his own back, foam catching onto his mustache, leaving him sloppily cleaning it up. “Ah. Good stuff.” He makes a small sound, slacking his jaw along before tapping his foot to Jimmie Davis.
OOC; I wanted to use Eddy Arnold but fuck.
Bridget raised a brow accusingly, “Stereotyping, hmmm? I just thought that drinking might come as naturally to Americans, as mountain climbing might come to Germans.” she laughed, feeling clever in her response. Bridget then returned the grin Aldo gave it, each smile of his caught her off guard, the man always came off as some old fashioned tight wad. “Princess, you flatter me Aldo, I haven’t been called a princess since I was six years old.” She shifted her rear in her seat, getting more comfortable, her eyes watching Aldo satisfying his habit. She wondered why he didn’t just share a cigarette with her, but then again, who was she to tell him how to get his tobacco fix. Her thought was broken by the bartender sliding her drink over to her hand. “I wish you luck, ma’am.” he seemed to think that she wouldn’t last five minutes, making her grimace. Sure Aldo had a lot of experience with liquor, but she could hold her own when it came down to it. You don’t go to as many premieres as she has, and not develop a tolerance for alcohol.
Bridget stared at the glass for a moment, her eyes transfixed on the beads of liquid that managed to breach the rims edge. Until Aldo gestured to it, she had simply stared at the inching fluids. She smiled, taking the glass and swigging it back. She had to prove she every bit as tough as Aldo, and would do it his way. Setting the empty glass down she released a sound of enjoyment, and then laughed as Aldo cleaned remnants of liquor from his facial hair. She looked at the bartender and smirked, “what’s next?” Her question directed to Aldo, but she felt the need to stare down the barkeep. The music that came on had a different feel to it, it’s rhythm slow, and twangy. She glanced at Aldo and smiled, “very good.” She felt her head sway a bit, in tune with the music, she was unwinding more than she had planned, but it didn’t matter, she was enjoying herself.
Her stereotyping comment was indeed clever, Aldo didn’t know too much about Germans besides Nazis being a bunch of inhumane dickheads that needed to be destroyed, but that followed along perfectly. He scoffed, “Caught me there.” His eyes followed her as she finished the last bit of her drink. He was surprised she downed her whole cocktail as he had managed in doing so. To say in the least though, he was also pleasantly impressed. Already though, she started swaying herself to the music, a classic country artist which a rough voice wasn’t one he expected to see her move rhythmically to so it was clearly the alcohol going straight to her head. The bartender stared back at her, shrugging his shoulders taking her question to him, “Tequila?” He offered. Aldo nodded his head, “Sure thang. No shit in it though, straight.” He cracked his neck, “Ain’t a big fan of tequila, but it’s a definite shot to get you buzzed in the heat of the moment.”
It was his turn to return the chuckle when she herself had mused herself at the foam catching to his mustache. Seeing her cut loose was amusing no doubt, she was so uptight usually. At least in a operation there were set in, it was no surprise how someone could retort to acting so rude, he had played that role. He suppressed the rest of his laugh when their shots set on the counter, “Hope you brought your wallet, Von Hammersmark, and for the record, toilets are at the end of the building.” He darts his thumb behind him and raises his glass to her, downing the whole thing in another instant. He slammed his fist on the bar, sticking out his tongue, “God, there are a million gaddamn drinks on this planet that taste like shit, but fuck, does it hit ya hard.” He slurs a bit, sticking out his tongue afterward.
She felt triumphant, Aldo had no comeback for her, which didn’t happen often. Flashing her teeth with upraised lips, she cocked her head towards Aldo. A sarcastic smile replacing her genuine one, “My vallet? Oh Aldo, I thought you were paying for this delightful outing.” Her head drifted over to the bartender as he passed her their next intoxicating delight. “Lucky for you, I did bring it, can’t expect a gentleman out of a Basterd,” she teased, lifting a finger and shaking it at him for a brief moment. She followed Aldo’s words as he directed her to were the bathrooms were, “are you telling me this so that I know were I can drag you when you’ve had enough?” The conversation truly invigorated her, she hadn’t really had any fun since coming to America. It was hard to blend into a society during that time, especially when you have a thick German accent.
Grabbing onto the glass she contemplated dumping the brown fluid out, it didn’t look appetizing. She had never had Tequila before, and god knows, everything shes heard about it hasn’t been exactly good. You don’t tell a good Tequila story without vomiting or embarrassing. Then Aldo raised his glass to hers, signalling it was time to down the thing. “One, two, three, here ve go.” She slung her head back, the glass following, pouring it’s innards down her throat. She responded by curling forward, pushing the glass away, and planting her hands on the bar table. She twisted her face, “aaaah, good stuff Aldo, nice choice. Though I’m beginning to think you’re trying to kill me.” She was starting to feel the first drink hit her, perhaps trying to out drink Aldo wouldn’t prove to be a good idea.
Aldo smirked, “I warned you straight before you suggested this little drink off.” He said, his voice rough, “Firstly, I was opt to payin’ but now my wallet can’t handle such, if you manage to throw up, I’ll split the tab with ya.” He raises a brow, “Now you’re just bein’ cocky, ma’am. I know for a fact you’re gon’a drop to the floor.” Aldo enjoyed her play on words. They amused him for the most part, or perhaps alcohol was getting to him more than he had thought, normally a play on words opposing his own would drive him to retort more irrationally or at least with a decent amount of wit where as now he came to a stump. “Ah, fuck, there lies the problem then. You’ve found out what my true intentions were for bringin’ you ‘bout back in Maynardville.” He lets out a loud hoot, having Samberg fill up their shot glasses once more; the tab slowly rising now. Aldo looked to Bridget and counted once more, stretching back as they took in yet another full shot of tequila. He made another face of discomfort as he felt the burn of alcohol go down his throat. He despised tequila. It was disgusting, but the hype immediately hit him in the spur of the moment and Aldo gripped the end of the bar, shaking his head.
His face flushed with a sudden warmness, and he ran one of his worn out hands through his hair, sending his fringe to the side. He turned to Bridget who obviously was thrown away with that last shot of tequila, “Darlin’ we need to throw you in the moon shinin’ business, don’t we?” He started laughing again, a real wholeheartedly laugh feeling the sting of the alcohol drive through his body. Jimmie Davis rang through his ears, Nobody’s Darlin’ But Mine started playing and he couldn’t help but sing along to it, a habit of his, and though his words slurred and were sung much slower than Jimmie Davis, he wasn’t trying to sound good, just trying to keep a fun rhythm going with the other.
Bridget pouted to herself, “I guess you did Aldo, can’t call you a liar, can I?” She stirred in her seat, she felt bouncy, and desperately wanted to move. Something to keep her energy from overwhelming her. She rolled her eyes at the man, “vell if ve keep drinking like this, it von’t be long until I do throw up. So keep a good hold of your own vallet, Mr. Raine.” She giggled, her body still swimming with energy, and a need for activity. His comments kept her mind going, but her body ached for more. “Cocky? Me? Certainly you’re mistaken Aldo, I am just confident.” Bridget found some comfort in his responses, the slurred speech was proving that he was feeling the effects of the liquids. At least she wasn’t alone. Her body already felt a numbing warmth and a clumsiness that naturally came with alcohol, along with her supply of new-found energy. Aldo’s false admittance to why had had brought her to the small, one trick pony town was too much for her at that level of intoxication. She burst into laughter, “Your doing a splendid job then. I’ll be dead by round three.”
The barkeep filled their glasses once again, and the look of regret appeared once again on her face. But again, she followed Aldo, and tipped the drink down her gullet. She kicked her legs like a child, puckering her face. The taste was unlike anything she could even imagine, and the effects, nearly instant. She started to giggle, “if you teach me the ropes, I’ll get right on that trade.” Her giggles turned into a full laugh as Aldo broke out into his own. The two were right and drunk, and the perfect addition to the mixture, good music. She didn’t know the song, but already she liked it. Shock became apparent on her face when she heard Aldo singing along to the tune, he really was drunk. She had never seen him so comfortable around really anyone, then again, they hadn’t known each other that well. Clearing her throat she smiled at him, “Aldo, if you’d really like to treat me to an all American experience, vould you care to dance vith me?”
Aldo would never consider himself drunk, on the contrary it was hard to ever really get the man drunk. The instant hit of alcohol taking over his body only lasted moments, it was simply just a hit of energy and a comfort zone slowly growing. As alcohol took its affects for only a short while, he was able to maintain himself through balance and thought progress, but let alone, he couldn’t hide his foolish mannerisms starting. “Three?” He frowns, grinding his teeth together a bit, “I was hopin’ a little earlier, but so be it. I could use the company.” The bartender both threw the two a grin, there was a hint of shame as he started shaking his head, running a dry towel over tall glasses.
He drew a hand up, indicating a hold on the tab for now as he let the affect of alcohol run through the both of them. He stopped murmuring to the song that bellowed through the tavern to turn to look at Bridget. She wanted to dance, and he couldn’t turn down a dance, especially with the girl who risked looking completely foolish in front of him. Dancing would be a task, not a whole lot for him, but she was all over the place, regardless, he took her by the hand. The bartender smiled, but turned back to the kitchen giving them a moment to themselves, plus he had to restrain the urge to laugh out loud at the sight. Maybe cute, but nonetheless, hysterical. Aldo took her to the open space held out in the bar, only a few feet away from their stools, “Now, you throw up on me, I ain’t afraid to hit ya.” He smiled at her, holding her clumsy self up, he rested his hand on her waist and propped her up by grasping onto her hand. Close and steady, he kept his eyes on her, “You like Jimmie Davis?” Aldo was never a good dancer, to him, it was simply steps that moved with however he felt they would to the song and along with that, how to handle the opposite sex in a dance was never something he knew how to operate, so he started a small conversation as he moved her pathetically across the floor.
Bridget was drunk, there was no doubt about that, but there was no going back now. She had hoped she would’ve held her liquor better, but she didn’t suspect it really mattered now. She scoffed at his comment, feeling childish she just shook her head at him. Her eyebrows raising in an slightly disturbed manner at the bartender, he seemed to be enjoying their fun almost more then themselves. Was she really making that big of a fool of herself? Bridget was again caught off guard by Aldo, he had actually agreed to dancing with her, no protest what so ever, just amusement. I guess she could prove to be enjoyable company for the American. In only a few moments, he had already lead her to a space big enough for her clumsy movements. “Oh trust me Aldo, it will take more than those drinks, and a few jumbled dance moves to make me throw up on you. Especially knowing that a brawl will ensue.” she laughed at the idea, knowing full well that he was half-serious. It was just a side effect of being a Basterd, after a certain point you did lose some of that natural gentle-manliness.
They started moving to the music, she lifted her chin to his face in order to make eye contact. “I’ve never heard of him until now. They don’t exactly carry a lot of American music in Germany.” she paused, it’s beat was soothing, and she did something she never thought she’d do. She rested her head on his chest, keeping in step was a chore, but she managed to fight off the alcohol. “But I like it, it’s something I’d like to hear more of.”
“I get that.” He snapped back, “I ain’t hearing a lot of songs about weiner schnitzels now back here in Maynardville.” Perhaps it wasn’t appropriate to make fun of her countries music, but since day one, they’ve been known to tease each other about their own origins, making snide comments about typical stereotypes, it was just something that came with their relationship. He swayed her across the floor, in short but enthusiastic steps. He felt ridiculous and rather relieved to know that nobody would be paying attention to the pair as they danced lamely to the music. When he felt her own head rest against his chest, that really took him off guard, to the point where he almost stepped on her foot with his large boot heel. He muttered an apology, but it was very doubtful that she actually heard it.
He didn’t let his off guard moment take affect permanently, instead, he kept her linked together closely to him, moving at a more slow pace, prior to their once more upbeat and clumsy pace. The change didn’t make them appear any less ridiculous though, but it would certainly help them from becoming any more sick in the stomach. He nodded. There wasn’t a lot to say back to that, so he commented, “Yeah, well, ‘round here, you’d be hearing a fuck load of it, so.” He put his sentence to a halt, knowing she had the brains to finish off the sentence for him, verbally or just mentally. It didn’t matter. He drew her in closer, resting his hand just above her bottom, gripping his fingers tight around her waist and dress fabric. Feeling them between his grasp, he managed to smile. It had been so long since he’s been in such a state with another woman, even before the war.
The woman considered smacking him for the comment, but it came so natural to them. It was a part of life, so ordinary that it couldn’t be helped, or avoided. “Y’know it’s funny, I’ve never heard a song about that either. Guess we’re in the same boat.” she quipped, wanting to keep pestering him. At least the pestering kept her mind off their dancing, it seemed the more she focused on the conversation, the less her feet attempted to toss her about. She could tell he was a tad bit embarrassed by their dancing, but she didn’t care, perhaps he was the one who needed to loosen up this time. Her thin lips curving into another smile as she felt his chest rise and fall with his breathing. Her eyes opened only briefly when she thought she had felt the scuff of Aldo’s boots across her feet, it might have been the alcohol, but she din’t feel any pain. Bridget responded to the slowing of pace with a slight murmur of inaudible happiness. It was nice, and quelled the feelings in her stomach, aside from a few straw feelings that came from being this close to Aldo.
“That’s good, because I can already tell that I’ll probably enjoy each and every song, perhaps I’ll have to stick around this little town, and learn all the songs, hmmm?” Bridget felt Aldo’s hands wander down her body, close to her rear. It sent shivers up her spine, and made every nerve go wild. Catching her off guard, she smiled softly. Her fingers starting to play with the hair on the back of his head without any real acknowledgement from her own being. Had it really been that long since she had been with a man, that Aldo was beginning to affect her in such a manner? Or perhaps the American meant more to her than she was aware of. “So how is the other remaining Basterd, I haven’t heard anything from him?” she attempted to start a conversation that would make their movements less noticeable to each other.
Of course, it was a verbal response, he expected it though. He guessed Bridget just liked the own sound of her accent which was undeniably attractive to him. But like hell he’d ever give her the satisfaction in knowing that, or at least, for now, he’d keep it to himself. The beat of the hard voice of Jimmie Davis started dying now and Bob Hope and Shirley Ross were shortly replaced, playing softly as he kept a slow pace with the other. He was thankful that the songs started to progressively get slower. He enjoyed his dose of classic country, but it meant keeping such a beat. He pinched her waist at the reply to his mocking of her countries music, not paying any heed to her rebuttal, there was no point in causing another verbal ruckus with her, he was enjoying the sentimental quiet.
He enjoyed feeling her fingers caress his neck and play with his short hairs in the nape. The mention of Smithson caused a frown to appear on his face, not that he despised the other, just the conversation starter wasn’t something he was enthused about discussing, he grumbled a bit, “Utivich? He returned home immediately, I know that much, gettin’ all back with his family, spent some time in Maynardville with me an’ my own family. That’s kinda like the kid though. Gotta remain in some contact one way or another.” He paid careful attention to her movements, he wanted her general focus to be on each other. He started moving his hand slowly across her back, fingers lingering slowly. His other hand caressing behind her shoulder blade as they remained close to each other.
A small chuckle escaped Bridget’s lips at Aldo’s fingers pinching her waist, in reaction to her backtalk. Nothing to say? This man was constantly surprising her, it was both infuriating, and alluring. Keeping half of her face buried in his jacket, smirking at the fragrance of tobacco and cologne, which was an unlikely pleasant mixture. The next song that tuned in she actually knew, lightly humming to the melody of “Two Sleepy People.” A song of which she found ironic, regardless of how much alcohol she had partaken in, and how late it was getting, she was wide awake. Aldo’s scent telling her that it wasn’t a dream, she was in fact, slow dancing with Aldo the Apache. She felt a little bad for bringing up Utivich, hearing a treading amount of annoyance on Aldo’s words. He must have been enjoying the quiet, the silent embrace. Bridget just had troubles keeping her mouth shut, she was still trying to convince herself that she felt no real attraction to the man. Figuring dry conversation would take her mind away from such dwellings she replied, “must’ve been quiet the collaboration of families. You and Utivich seem like you come from all around opposites.”
His hands moving about her back, brushing the soft skin with his calloused hands. Delightful would be the word she could best use to describe the feeling. Her hand continued to play with the back of his neck, and the edge of his hair, though this time it had a different feel to it. More of a lovers touch, softer, and longing grazes. Her fingers of her hand resting on his shoulder, playing with it’s fabric, and rubbing the materiel. A silence had started to ensue, Bridget content with their position, couldn’t think of anything to say. The moment was perfect, the music decadent, why ruin it with her blabber? She continued to hum to the song, her only protest of the silence now, every other fiber of her melding into the dance. She could have sworn for a moment that there dancing had gotten better in the silence, but then again it was more likely the alcohol speaking.
“Fuck, you met the majority of us, Von Hammersmark, you know we’re all different, the only thang we have in common is killing Nazis and being fucked up in the brain.” He replied. Aldo finally managed to get a rhythm going with her, which she responded to superbly. It had been as if they had ballroom dancing their whole lives, the way their own bodies responded with the other; the perfect pace was set between the two and the clumsy foot steps from the alcohol was finally put to a stop as they both agreed to a movement of box choreography that followed along with the soft instrumental of the melody. The actress had finally shut her trap and started to seep into the quiet between the two. Aldo enjoyed it, he really did. But that only made him suffer through a train of thought as the woman started to touch him so tenderly as he had her.
Regardless of the comforting and sweet position he was in with the petite woman, it wasn’t satisfying enough and the reality of that started pestering him. He took in the moment for what it was though and how much he had truly enjoyed being this close with the woman, taking into account all of the little things of this endearing moment. His fingers tightened around her and he drew away from her slowly as the song started to slowly fade out. He stared down at her momentarily, unable to hold the gaze any more seriously. His hands were still held on her dearly and strongly, “Alright, listen.” He said, his voice just couldn’t pertain to being any softer, he sounded rough though serious. He broke away from her, leaving her there wondering and in his pocket, he dug out some bills from his trouser pockets sliding it across the bar. There was no point in having her fiddle around in her own purse, he just wanted to take her outside. “It’s getting stuffy in here and if I have to suffer one more gaddamn second of not getting any closer to ya, I might just draw a fuckin’ gun to my head.” He didn’t look her way as he grabbed a hold of her purse and then he threw it at her, her managing to catch it. He grabbed her by the wrist and tugged her towards the door.
Nodding her head as it lay pressed to his chest her lips found themselves curling up once again, “at least you’re unified in some sense.” A few brief moments of silence and the warmth was gone. Aldo had pulled away from her in what seemed like seconds, her lips rearing up into a pout. Did she do something wrong? Or had he felt like they had delved into personal regions, that he had not wanted to. Her brows furrowing in confusion as he slapped money down on the counter, enough to pay for the two of them. She must have pissed him off something fierce. Scratching the back of her head, Aldo finally addressed her.The whites of her eyes shone with a complex amount of shock, awe, and once again, confusion. He wanted to get closer to her. Taking her hand from her head, she flinched as he tossed her purse to her. Everything was going so fast, he latched onto her wrist and pulled her towards the exit.
Her heart beat nearly twice as fast as it had originally, her cheeks turning a flustered pink. What the hell could she say to him, yes? Every nerve, every tissue of her body wanted him right then and there. Did he even really require an answer, or were her complacent feet answer enough for him? She cursed herself, always asking questions and never just waiting to find the answer. Following close behind at a fast pace she started grinning ear to ear. She sped up her steps and twisted her hand around from his grip, so that she was now holding onto it, instead of being a captive of it. Her other hand trying to keep a hold of her purse. She was happier than she had been since arriving in America. “You really are giving me an all American experience, aren’t you Aldo?” she giggled like a child, swept up in his actions.
He took her outside, the air was crisp and cold, the night was dark as ever and the only thing guiding him back to his room was the street lamps hovering an orange glow above them. He started up a fast walk with her as they made their way down the streets of his hometown, and he grinned stupidly when she held onto his hand, intertwining their fingers together, and his grin grew at her next comment, “All American experience? You mean you’ve never had some German fuck nut escort your pretty little ass outta bar so quickly before?” Ah, how he did have a way with words, but he was never one to whisk away a woman with his words, or even his bodily gestures. There was just some odd sort of way he had when it came to getting together with another woman, and they either obliged to that or they simply didn’t. He wasn’t going to play with their cards, only he would see if they would play by his.
He stopped in their tracks, Bridget coming to a halt in front of him. He was doing things so peculiarly that one couldn’t guess what was on his mind. He was so quick thinking and moving that there was no sense in filling the other in, the response was positive or negative. He stood there a bit, trying to think of something more clever to say. Bridget obviously knew of his intentions and she was right with them, Aldo was happy he could share this kind of moment with the German he once considered a bitch who he did not give one flying fuck about. He could accept the silence but he didn’t, “Ya know, a few months ago, I would’ve probably shot my own self in the leg if I were in this kind’a position,” He paused, “Well, guess thangs change and if that’s the case, we’re gon’ need to do just ‘bout one more thang ‘bout that.” He raised an eyebrow at her before taking that one extra close step to her before pulling her in, underneath her shoulder blades, he kept her close, he liked being close to her, feeling her warmth, being squished with her. He wasn’t going to kiss her bodies apart from each other. That just wouldn’t cut it. So with her strong in his hold, he lifted her up, so she was on her tip toes and gave her a kiss on the lips. Fingers tightening around her clothing material. She tasted of disgusting alcohol, tobacco and a bland lipstick. And he couldn’t have it any other way. He pulled away and smiled, “Come on now, princess. We got somewhere to be.”
Cool air nipped at her extremities, causing her to move closer to Aldo as they abandoned the bar. Laughter slipped from her as Aldo responded, “not quite like that I’m afraid. Usually they aren’t as abrasive.” Bridget loved the way Aldo simply stated every little thing on his mind without censorship, it wasn’t something she saw often in most men. A good change of pace for her, she needed some change, some appreciation, regardless of what swears or vulgarity accompanied it. Bridget halted her steps when Aldo came to a stop, unaware as to where they were going, she made sure to follow as closely as possible. She watched him, pondering what to say next, for a moment she expected something romantic, or affectionate, but in it’s own way what he did say next would be a form of affection from Aldo. “Shoot yourself in the leg? You don’t say, guess you dodged that bullet, and I took it,” she smiled with sarcasm, her brows raising in question, “and vhat vould that be?” Without any verbal response the man took her in his arms, pulling her close. Using only a trace amount of his strength he lifted her to a point where she was on the tips of her toes.
Their lips meeting, and a tingling sensation running down her spine. The taste of alcohol mixing with the tobacco in their mouths. She didn’t care, not one damn bit. Content with the fact that she didn’t have to hold back. He pulled back and smiled, his last words telling her exactly how the night was going to play out. She smirked playfully, grabbing onto his hand again and following him too their final destination for the night.
(Oh god I just died. So. Fucking. Happy. ;u;)
————————————————————————————-Roleplay: Karneval Der Demütigung
Alternate Universe continuation of ‘A Toast To Our Basterds” (Characters Aldo Raine, and Bridget Von Hammersmark from Inglourious Basterds)
