So this is suppose to be vague, but, and this only applies if you haven't read this story on my lj, if you can correctly guess who both characters are I will write you a drabble of your choice. Hopefully you won't choose a fandom I know nothing about.
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She sat down on the front steps of the tavern and put her head in her hands. She had been fired enough by now that the frustration was only momentary but it still made her stop. The door behind her opened, signaled by a little bell that chimed as the swinging door hit it. "Hallo?" The voice of a man found its way to her ears and she looked up to see a lean man with silvering hair and glasses. He held something small in his hand and sat down next to her before putting on his pinch front fedora hat and pulling his black trench coat tighter around him looking vaguely reminiscent of a private eye from a film noir movie.
"Hallo." She replied back in the same tongue before staring at the street ahead of her. A car drove by and splashed water up from a puddle that had collected rainwater over the past few days. The man handed her the object in his hand.
She took it and stared at it for a moment before he spoke. "Hard day?" His accent was not the same as she had been hearing day in and day out for the past four months. He had not grown up in Germany.
"I was fired. Again." She took a drag of the joint and held her breath, passing it back to him.
"What did you do?" He also took a drag and waited for her to exhale before she responded.
"Someone whistle—…No. I—I got mad at a patron. Left him sitting there without being served." She took the little cylinder of paper and rolled weeds back from him and raised it to her mouth. He put up a hand to stall her and she leaned back quickly.
"Since neither of us have anything to drink, to freedom."
She was slow to respond. "To freedom…more than you know." She took a drag and handed it back to him so he could do the same. They continued their idle chatter as the joint slowly disappeared.
"That job probably wasn't worth it anyway. Being a waiter never is."
"I wouldn't, but I need to save up. I have to get home sometime."
"Where is home?"
"Not Germany."
"Hmm…Tight lipped, I get that." The conversation slowed and a light rain began to fall. People on the street began opening umbrellas and people inside began shuffling, deciding whether or not they were going to stay or make a dash for home before the heavy rain hit. "I should head out. You too. Which way are you headed." She nodded up the street behind the tavern. "I'm that way." He nodded down the street. "Maybe I'll see you around sometime, uh…?"
"Call me Kaska." It was the first word she had said all evening with a proper accent.
"I'm John." His name was spoken clearly too. Kaska stood up, brushed herself off. "Maybe we'll run into each other again."
"Maybe… I doubt it." She ran off purposefully staying under awnings as she went to avoid the rain as it steadily began to fall heavier. He watched her for a few seconds before he turned around and headed back also following the awnings as he went.
