Historical (1920s)
@zweibierbitte Link to original
(Sorry to move this here honey! I can’t cut posts ;7;)
Helma pressed her luck only on few occasions; whether is was about a malicious matter or something that she knew went against her own facts. Sometimes they worked out, most times (especially currently) they didn’t work out at all and she was left to bring herself back and regroup to figure out what exactly she was trying to find. So it took her too Berlin, by herself and without anything to show for it. But again, she was in Berlin, a historical marvel, even in this trying time for it’s people. She sipped her drink at the bar, a short Manhattan with a maraschino cheery picked from the top. She played with the stem in between her fingers as the man’s voice gruffly rinsed the air. She gave him a gestured glance, avoiding looking him up an down, she know the state the people were in, it was best to not insult further. The whole world was rough. “Failed dreams and hope.” She answered, turning in her seat, “I’m Helma, a pleasure.”