hiding hatred in a wine bottle

[ELIZABETH REBEKKA WEINSTEIN.]

and i'll sing, sing for you,
because i don't want to be hurt.

Elizabeth coughed slightly as she looked up at the stage. It was around ten at night and she was just about to go on to the stage. She was slightly worried about singing tonight, she always had to sing in French and her French accent could go a little strange if she had too much to drink, then again, she could cover that up because she would just blame it on living in England for a while or something strange like that, anything that came out of her mouth really. Tonight she was doing her bit to find out which Nazis needed killing so her and the other Basterds could take those ones out. She needed to find the one who had tortured and killed her brother, the one that had murdered her tiny sister, the one that murdered her mother and of course, the one that had murdered her father. She was going to find them and she was going to kill them if it was the last thing on earth she ever did. She didn't care if she lived or died after this war, as long as she got revenege for her family and her fellow Jews.

She stepped out onto the stage and the spotlight shone in her eyes for a moment and then was moved as she smiled out to the group of whistling and cheering Germans, all as drunk as each other and probably as hormonal as a rabid dog. Great, drooling and howling men, something she hated to deal with when she wasn't with the Basterds. She began to sing, her lips fulled rogued and her eyes as bright and bold as the audience loved the to be. Sure, she hated men being around her, but this was a living. Well, it was actually her cover, the cover she was using when she used to work with the English division infiltrating the German army and she felt if she just up and left, they would find it weird, so she stayed on. It was only after she realised she could find out secrets from the drunken Germans that she decided to truly stay here for this and she knew it would just make her feel better. Then if she was find out she could die like her brother and father; a war hero.

Her set was finished, she had played her songs, singing with all her heart in her excellent French accent and in French, although having to change to English half way through because they complained they didn't understand her song. She was a talented singer and seemed quite popular among the Germans, which was something she liked even more because when it came time to kill them and she revealed she was the much feared "London Lovely" they pretty much shit themselves and she craved that more than everything else, to strike fear into the hearts of those who wish to murder her people. She took her small courtsy and moved off of the stage towards the bar where she would grab a quick drink and hopefully be off, well, that was unless someone decided to invite her to their table, then she had to oblige.

"Bartender, I'll have a white wine, please," she said brightly in her perfect French as she sat down. She then looked at the lone man who was sitting at the bar. "That is if this lovely German officer doesn't have any objections to me sitting here,"

[/color] she said a little seductively.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

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once upon a time ELIZABETH decided to go out, disgused as JULIETTE just to have some fun. she went to SECRETS DU LA NUIT and met up with HANS LANDA on the off chance of having some fun. she finally FINISHED what she had to say to him in around FIVE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY TWO words. she wore one magnificent OUTFIT and was making sure she always spoke FRENCH.

[COLONEL HANS LANDA]

... GOT MILK ?!

If there was one place in the whole of France that Hans enjoyed retreating too, after a long day's work, then it was definitely Secrets de la nuit. Purely for the simple fact that it was pleasureable and it satisfied his every little whimsical wish about drinking, smoking and being in the presence of greatness. Well, that... and the women who were usually there. Of course they were there to perform on the amazing little stage that had been set up on one side of the room, but that hadn't ever stopped him from creeping around backstage every now and again to get his 'fill'.. if you know what I mean. Hey, hey, hey, wait a sodden minute; it wasn't meant in that particular way. Nein, nein, nein, nein, nein! Nein, Hans would never dream of it - oh wait, no, he probably could. If he didn't act like a child and drink milk all the time. No, nevermind; scratch that, he was a self-proclaimed man of whore.

I MEAN WAR.

Hans liked woman and for some strange reason, one guy had told him that there was a slightly (high) possibility that he might be overly infatuated with... guys. Well, there was a possibility there for several reasons - all of which he'd really rather not go into detail with. He didn't want there to be any potentially problematic situations arising. What he really wanted was a good, tall glass of milk. Ice cold and with a chocolate biscuit, if possible.

Part of the main reason as to why he chose this particular place to come too tonight, was because he'd caught wind that a possible new Basterd was arising from the grave (so to speak) and he wanted to check this lead out. Apparently it was supposed to have been a woman, but Hans had found that to be utterly absurd, though he didn't diminish the thought that a woman might well be a skilled and worthy oppenent; if and when the time came to fight her. Which is also one of the reasons why he wanted a glass of milk to settle himself before he got on to the harder stuff. Whiskey, to be precise. He needed the milk just like a child needed calcium - same stuff, just a fancy name. Hans had stepped into Secret de la nuit, strode over to the bar in his black suit, smelling of... something nice, and had slapped his hand down on the counter, smiled rather strangely and ordered himself a glass of milk.

His milk came as soon as a female waltzed onto stage and started to sing in an accent that could be clearly assumed as French by all those arrogant, drunken Germans, but not to him. Hans knew accents and he knew when people faked them. This woman, the one on stage, singing, was a fake. But she was so awfully good, and highly proportionate in the sense of a well rounded figure.. full lip, dazzling eyes, amazing figure. Heck, she was drop dead gorgeous. Maybe he could get his way with her sometime later during the night. He sat there, with his milk, thinking about all the possible ways he could get her into a bed, any bed; didn't matter which, several of them included kidnapping.

Eventually though, she finished her song, the lights dimmed a little lower on stage and it wasn't too long before he found himself face to face with the same girl whom had just been singing. "Oh, lovely bartender, please do put the white wine on my tab; for the beautiful woman." His tone was slightly melancholy as he watched her sit down by him. Hans smiled to himself and looked the woman up and down. Moments later he gave a satisfied nod to himself and opened his mouth to speak once more. "No qualms, no fears. Please sit that wonderful little ass down on the stool next to me, darling."

LALALA PRETTY CODING SOON, STILL

[ELIZABETH REBEKKA WEINSTEIN.]

and i'll sing, sing for you,
because i don't want to be hurt.

Elizabeth was under the alias of Juliette at the moment, her French name, the one thing that changed depending on her company, when with Germans, she was the polite little French girl who went by the name of Juliette and supported their troops because she felt the French army was weak and that the Germans were sure to prevail. She had to act like a racist, as if she hated the other Jewish people and the Negros that worked in the area, one of them being the barman. Luckily for her, the man that worked here knew that she wasn't a racist so that was fine, she was safe from him hating her because he was actually part of the Resistance, and she was a Basterd, so they were all happy with each other, just not so much with the Germans, but they would pretend to deal with them or they would most likely be shot and she seriously didn't want that.

She had sat herself down with this German officer for one reason and one reason only, to get him drunk and find out the secrets of the Nazis. Once she had done that she could go and report to Aldo and they could cause some full on trouble and her life would feel a little more complete. Of course she needed to sort out a few things first like making sure she wasn't seen when she left the night club and most of all, she would need to make sure this man was truly drunk before she accidently let slip her questions about him divulging information about his section of the army. One thing that needed to be established first was her fliratious wasy and to make sure he was a taker of women otherwise this plan was truly messed up and she might as well just phone up Donny and get him to beat this guy to death for his secrets and just to protect her Basterd situation. She had a strange mind, always thinking of her cover being blown, even though it was the least of her worries in reality. If England found out she was doing this, she could in fact be exiled and she would have no choice but to settle down somewhere else. Not only that, but she could just be shot in the cross fire really.

Elizabeth smiled slightly as the officer before her told the bartender that her white wine would be put on to his own tab. "Merci Monsieur," she said with a smile as she nodded towards the bartender. She wasn't sure what his motives were but she was excellent at acting drunk and she was even better at drinking, having a brother who would constantly insist she join in the drinking games with the other soldiers and soon she was pretty much drinking them under the table! Back to tonight though, she was a little worried that her poor body would be used for whatever this German officer wanted her to do, she wouldn't be able to resist him or she could end up being shot, so she would play his little games and hope it would give her something in the end. "Why thank you Officer," she smiled politely, sitting herself down on the stool. "And is it okay if this humble night club singer enquires your name, kind sir?" she asked with a small smile dancing on those rogued lips of hers. She was too good at this.

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once upon a time ELIZABETH decided to go out, disgused as JULIETTE just to have some fun. she went to SECRETS DU LA NUIT and met up with HANS LANDA on the off chance of having some fun. she finally FINISHED what she had to say to him in around FIVE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY words. she wore one magnificent OUTFIT and was making sure she always spoke FRENCH.

[COLONEL HANS LANDA]

... GOT MILK ?!

As far as everyone knew, Colonel Hans Landa was a perfect gentleman and a most exquisit host to anyone and everyone. He was gentle and caring, he played a couple of mind games on certain people and he was highly education. He knew how to speak English, French, German, Austrian, Italian, Spanish and a few other languages, as well as asshole. In retrospect, he was a bit of show off when it came down to formalities - ever so polite, prehaps overly so. Sometimes he liked to be a little show off-y in order to get his way, most of the times it worked; there was, however, one particular scene in which it didn't work and he ended up on his ass and covered in not only liquor, but also mud and cow pat. But that was back in Austria, he was in France now; things were different. Or so he hoped. But all women were the same and the one he was about to buy a drink for didn't seem any different to all the others he had been with. There was never anything different about women, they all had breasts, long hair and beautiful eyes. Just. Like. Her.

Merci Monsieur.

Had Hans been wearing his hat, he would have tipped it up slightly from the top of his head, but he was not and instead gave her a small, polite nod and a charming smile. "Not a problem, cherie." he replied gently, picking up his glass of milk and draining the rest of it. Sliding it across the bar, Hans turned to look at the lady in his company, once again. He would attempt to fathom her out if it were at all possible, since he knew for a fact that she was not French - the way her French accent was slightly broken. Not to the human ear, it wasn't. But to his trained ear, it was. Hans was definitely going to have some fun with her and possible get some clever information out of her if possible. The brunette woman thanked him for his gesture of buying the first drink. Neither knew that the other was trying to get the other drunk through ways of alcohol. Cheap trick, but it was a good one, no matter what anyone said. "You are most welcome, my dear." He watched as she sat down on the stool next to him, inquiring about his name. Should he say that he was Hans Landa, or should he say a different name. Well, a fake name never really got him anywhere before, so...

"It would be my pleasure to disclose my name unto the humble night club singer." It sounded corny, but that was the way he usually went. "It is Colonel Landa, and might I enquire as to your name, fair lady." The bar tender came back with the glass of wine and he took it from his hands, holding it out to the woman who was about to tell him her name. He figured that it would be as beautiful as she was, but he'd wait before making a full assumption. "Excuse me, might I have a glass of whiskey." Hans asked the tender before he had a chance to get away from the odd couple. Tender nodded and took away the glass that had had milk in earlier. Not five seconds later did his whiskey come. Hans picked it up in a loose grip and looked to the woman. "Is it possible that your name is a beautiful as you are?" he inquired, putting on a fake sheepish voice, but keeping his facial expressions perfectly acurate to his faked tone.

LALALA PRETTY CODING SOON, STILL

[ELIZABETH REBEKKA WEINSTEIN.]

and i'll sing, sing for you,
because i don't want to be hurt.

Elizabeth was good at playing it down, she knew how to play down her sweetness, how to play down her polite exterior and get attention that way. She had always been one to sit alone and look thoughtful and brought the men to her, but then, this was a pretty good opportunity and she didn't seem fake in any way, shape or form, sincerity was her best act. She was good at acting and even put it on when she was around the Basterds, remembering back to when she had a stab wound but played it up to something it really wasn't so she would get more attention, they paid it to her because she was the only female and she loved it. So yeah, she was a little bit of a joke sometimes, she needed to do something to keep everyone happy in these times of war, hence why it made sense for her to become a singer, sure, she was having to cheer up the German soldiers, but then again, she got to cheer up French civilians who were caught up in this really bad time and not only that she could use her voice to cheer up the Basterds and other soldiers that came her way.

"That is fine then because I would not like to cause such a nice officer a problem," she said, smiling lightly at him as she settled herself properly in her chair. She liked to sit down at the bar because she felt a little safer than if she was on the dance floor. Being at the bar if anything went wrong, she would just make the signal to the bartender and he would find some excuse for her to leave. But, if she was on the dance floor and someone got a little too friendly, she had no choice but to allow them to do what they wish otherwise she would truly risk being hurt. She did enjoy getting want she wanted out of the people she despised more than anything in the world, but she was also constantly scared, scared she would be murdered or that she would be taken back to their quarters and used to keep them pleasured, she hated the idea of it. If she was going to pleasure anyone, she would prefer it to be one of the Basterds, not that she was attracted to them, she just felt that she would prefer to be one of their 'girlfriends' than that of a German officer. Hell, she would prefer to date a rat than a German officer, at least they had better manners.

Saying that, this particular officer had pretty good manners, he seemed polite and kind enough to allow her to sit with him for this moment. She smiled and nodded her head towards him with a politeness as she took the glass. As he spoke, she took a sip of that white wine and smiled with pleasure, there was nothing better than a nice glass of wine after a performance because it calmed her nerves and soothed her throat. A blush came to her cheeks as he complimented her beauty, sure she hated the German swine, but they were still good at complimented her and did make her feel a little girly sometimes. "I wouldn't say I was that beautiful, but thank you Colonel Landa," she said smiling lightly as she looked up at him. "My mother blessed me with the name Juliette, my father giving me the last name of Lefebvre, not really that pretty at all,"

[/color] she said with a littls mile as she looked at him, smiling slightly, wondering if this man was going to try it on as bad as other soldiers in here would. She slowly took a sip of the wine once again, smiling to herself as she saw the red lipstick mark on the glass.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

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once upon a time ELIZABETH decided to go out, disgused as JULIETTE just to have some fun. she went to SECRETS DU LA NUIT and met up with HANS LANDA on the off chance of having some fun. she finally FINISHED what she had to say to him in around SIX HUNDRED AND FORTY SIX words. she wore one magnificent OUTFIT and was making sure she always spoke FRENCH.

[COLONEL HANS LANDA]

... GOT MILK ?!

That is fine then because I would not like to cause such a nice officer a problem. Hans smiled and nodded politely. You better not cause me a problem, little lady; otherwise your head will be on the chopping block... literally. He added in his mind, as an after effect. If she were to cause him a problem then there definitely was going to be hell to pay. If he so much caught whiff of her trying to double-cross him and get him to say something, in a clever way; then there would be a huge problem. Hans was going to have nothing more to do with this woman if she exhibited signs of being a traiter... well, actually that was a bit of lie because at the moment her French accent was cheap, so she was a traitor, but he really did need his information out of her and he wasn't going to get it if he left now. No, he would have to suffer the damage she was doing to the French accent, wondering if she knew what kind of trouble she was getting herself into, at this very precise moment in time. If he could do so, without seeming rude and strange, Hans would laugh at the poor woman's misfortune. Then, he was also thinking about what she would look like in his bed...

...in his bed. Yes, he did so love the way her hips were shaped, the way her eyes twinkled under the light of the bar and how her smile seemed to radiate through her whole body. What he wouldn't give to get under her dress, or did she have many layers of clothing? Hans, going unnoticed, tilted his head slightly to one side and allowed his eyes to roam the entirety of her body, trying to fathom out how many skirts she was wearing and working out a detailed plan in his head, for going about getting those skirts off, with as little exertion as he could physically muster. Mm, damn she was beautiful. Behold the lavish legs, fitting for a Goddess. She was charming him, as he was to her. Hans watched her perfectly, well-plumped lips as she took a sip of her white wine, leaving a full lipstick print on the glass once she was done. Hans took out a white handkerchief and pressed it against the rim of the glass, wiping away the lipstick print. "Desolé, your glass was a little dirty." He apologised with a charming smile.

Folding up the handkerchief and putting it back into his pocket, Hans Landa continued smiling and picked up his whiskey glass, taking a small sip, before taking another, large one and placing it back on the bar. I wouldn't say that I was beautiful, but thank you Colonel Landa, My mother blessed me with the name Juliette, my father giving me the last name of Lefebvre, not really all that pretty at all. Hans had a feeling deep in his gut that she was not telling the truth about her name, but he couldn't be so sure. Though Hans wasn't one to throw off a judgement about someone if the feeling was strong enough, so he pursed his lips together and nodded politely. Now he had to say something about her name, something that wouldn't give her the sense that he knew her name was a fake one. He was as charming as ever. "I beg too differ, I think that it is a very beautiful name, for a very beautiful lady. Your parents must be very proud about the way you've turned out as you've grown."

LALALA PRETTY CODING SOON, STILL

[ELIZABETH REBEKKA WEINSTEIN.]

and i'll sing, sing for you,
because i don't want to be hurt.

Elizabeth was perfect. No, I don't mean that she is someone who can do everything and be better than you. By perfect I mean for this job, she was pretty enough to get them looking at her, even if they were not interested in a girl like her, she would get the interested, she had charm, she had wit and most of all, she knew when to keep her mouth shut and let them talk. At the moment, she was engaged in conversation, a good time to act intelligent and speak to them. Although, this particular male was nothing like the others, he was someone who seemed to actually have a brain and she didn't want to randomly ask him all his details, because one, he was not drunk enough and two, he actually seemed intelligent. That was a bitch for her, she had to pick one of the only smart men in this bar. She glanced over as she heard some Staff Sergents cheering and laughing with each other, she should have chosen to sit with them, but maybe she needed some class for the moment, she was beginning to tire of the drunk fools that constantly would touch her in all the wrong places and they couldn't hold an intelligent conversation.

Her eyes watched him as he wiped away the perfect lip print on her glass, she didn't quite know why he had done this because once she had taken another sip of that fine French wine, there would be another lip print, unless he was doing this in hopes her lipstick would disappear by the end of the night and his fellow soldiers wouldn't see the lipstick on his skin when she kissed him, if he was going to make her go that far. You could call her a whore, all the time she spent with so many men who she would end up spending some extra time with in a dark room in hopes that they would devoldge some nice new information that she could toddle off to her Basterd friends to tell them. "Why thank you kind sir," she replied politely to him as she settled into the seat a little more, it took her a while to get comfortable because of this rather large dress, she wished she could be wearing something comfortable.

This dress was itchy, like it hadn't been washed for a while, but it had been washed just this morning, maybe it was the fact that she was used to the uncomfortable clothes that they had become comfortable for her. She didn't know, it was all a little confusing at the moment, her whole life was just turned upside down and now she was trying to steady it, but she knew as the war ended, it would all be upside down yet again as she would have to try and put the pieces back together. "Oh Colonel, you flatter me so," she said with a little smile as she tapped him lightly on the chest. "But I do not know how my parents feel for me as they died when I was growing up" she said a little sadly, this was half of the truth but they were proud of her when they died, that she did know. "But I do not wish to bring the spirits down with such a sad story, I would like to know why such a fine gentleman as yourself if here alone," she asked with a warm smile on her lips.

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once upon a time ELIZABETH decided to go out, disgused as JULIETTE just to have some fun. she went to SECRETS DU LA NUIT and met up with HANS LANDA on the off chance of having some fun. she finally FINISHED what she had to say to him in around FIVE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY FOUR words. she wore one magnificent OUTFIT and was making sure she always spoke FRENCH.