Game Stalker (Halimeda)

((Because I am supposed to be good with titles?))

Ludwig didn't want to feel like he was moping, but when he thought about it, that's what it probably looked like. He was off in the corner of the bar, drinking a beer and talking with no one. Truth be told, he missed his friends at his old joint, and he wanted to get a feel for the new atmosphere of this alien pub. And, of course, try their beer. It wasn't as good, of course, because it wasn't German beer, but it wasn't bad, and the fish and chips made up for it.

It was a lively spot, and he was surprised to see more women than he would have expected. The pub seemed divided in half though, with some of those sitting at the booths being quiet and serious, and the other--granted younger-- half laughing and watching the television.

Some people were congregated around the pool table, and he was surprised he recognized one of them from his apartment, an attractive tanned woman who lived a floor below him. Ludwig had enjoyed the skill of the game, and watched the group from his spot, unaware of how strange it might look.

The small group crowded about the billiards table slowly dispersed as the losers grew bored and were socializing. The last two left in the game seemed intent to beat one another--they probably had money invested in the small tourney.

Ludwig’s eyes followed one particular member; a woman with curves who held a small grin on her face. He saw her lose, but she didn’t look like she had. Then again, what woman could feel like she lost when she was gifted such a body? He averted his gaze and felt a bit warm, coughing a bit and turned his head downward into his mug. He didn’t see her pass from the corner of his eye, and he looked back, eyes popping open. She jumped up onto the stool.

“Hey there, what’s your name?”

He was about to glance back to see if she was speaking to anyone else, but she had her eyes locked on his, blue-green eyes with little to no alcohol haze following his face.

“Ludwig,” he replied, stiff. He had to, quite literally, look down a bit to see her face. He leaned in a bit more toward the bar so he didn‘t seem so tall. “a pleasure to meet you, Miss…?”

He shook her hand, suprised at how firm the shake was, and was further spooked again at the touch to the knee--he was acting ridiculous. "I was interested," he replied, "and I certainly know how to play." He was pretty damn good at it too, and he had had enough practice.

But he didn't want to beat her... but he couldn't deny the invitation. Should he just throw it and let her have it? Maybe. "I would like to play, yes." He turned to the bartender, "And I'll pay for that one. It is a custom where I live," he explained to her. To be honest, he was excited; he hadn't had a decent night since he'd gotten to London.

"So whenever you're ready to take that drink over, we'll start the game."

Ludwig watched Halimeda depart at the speed at which she came. But her hips swayed while she walked--so she was a bit on the drunken side. Her eyes and manner had hidden what her body couldn't. Not only that, but she had bumped into him while getting off the stool, proving his point. He should make sure that she got a cab ride home, because her friends were probably drunk too. But, so was he, to an extent, so he couldn't talk either.

He and the bartender exchanged a glance, both on very different lines of thinking. Alongside his beer was some triple sec in a shot glass, "But I didn't pay--"

"Just take it," the man said, grinning about something or the other. Ludwig looked at it cautiously before downing it, then carrying his beer over to the table. "Would you like to break or I?"

Ludwig raised an eyebrow when he saw a man come up to Halimeda at the same time he was--was her friend updating her about the game? Ludwig was about to introduce himself when he saw her kick at him in no way way playfully.

Halimeda yelled something a bit lost amidst the sound of the bar, even as close as Ludwig was. In a blur, Ludwig was gripping the man's wrist, prying his fingers from Halimeda. He didn't notice a small line of blood that rand down her palm, or that his motion made the gap a bit wider.

He pressed the mystery man further away, his hand still caught in a death grip around the wrist. He didn't say a word, but his eyes held a deadly swirl of drunken anger.

"H-hey! That was my ring, okay? I was about to apologize you git! You're cutting off my circulation!" The man struggled for a moment before resorting to attempting to pry Ludwig's fingers from him, but they felt heavier and stiffer than iron clamps. "GET. OFF."

Ludwig spoke, harsh, bitten words thrown in the man's face. "Don't harass her, got it?"

"I'm not harassing! Let go!"

Never one to give the benefit of the doubt, "It sounds like you are though."

All of it had passed in such a short amount of time that none of the other bar-goers noticed, but then the man, worried about the damage to his hand, punched Ludwig across the face. Now all the sudden the bar was interested.

Ludwig let go as the man jumped back and fell to the floor, cradling both of his hands now. Ludwig felt the side of his face, where he felt the punch bounce back. The man went on about how his hand was broken--could somebody call an ambulance? Ludwig meanwhile looked down at his hand, small cuts where the man had dug in with his nails.

Ludwig looked over at Halimeda, but then down, not wanting to see the expression on her face. He probably frightened her, along with the rest of the bar.

There went his beer supply for the rest of the year.

Ludwig was swimming in ashamed thoughts and plans for insurance payments when Halimeda's tiny hands took his in. He looked up at her, and she was smiling. Yes, there was a curve to her lips. She mentioned something, but it was so soft amongst a yelling, laughing bar that he barely heard it.

There was a small pause of silence--between the two, certainly no one else abided by it--but then Halimeda broke it off and went to the bar to get something. He looked back down at her hand, and saw her blood. He winced; his cuts hadn't really ever bled, and it was all hers. It made him feel bad that she got the cut, but at the same time the neat freak in him was a bit disgusted: He didn't know whether or not she had any diseases. Quickly he rubbed away a bit of the blood from one of the cuts with a thumb, and notced something odd about it...

Halimeda came back with a napkin and water, dipping the napkin and wiping away his hands. She took in a breath and squeaked, and Ludwig realized that she has seen something strange also. He wanted to comment, but her fingers trembeled and he didn't mention it. Besides, she dropped his hand and moved on to the other. He inspected his other hand, but thw woman was moving so quickly she let go of his other hand.

He looked down at her to give thanks, but she gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek instead. He felt a small explosion of vermillion skin radiating outward from the spot.

"Your welcome."

It didn't seem like enough. She was off somewhere else, and still a little shaky. Wrapping an arm around her small shoulders he herded her outside with him. The bartender clapped a hand to his shoulder when he reached the door.

"This happens pretty often," he commented, grinning. "Thanks for the show tonight."

"Your welcome," Ludwig grumbled back, trying not to sound rude. The man was of the amiable sort, and he really didn't want to perturb him. "That doesn't happen often... people hurting themselves on my face." He felt the need to qualify what happened back there.

"Oh, yeah! Do you want to get that checked out, you have a real nasty bruise." Of course he did: The man broke his hand on his face.

"I'll be fine. I'll work on it at home. Thank you though." Checking to make sure Halimeda was still there, he moved back outside and shut the door.

The outside was much quieter, and a small rain shower overcasted London. The cars came by with lights flashing the scene every two seconds or so.

"Do you need a ride home? Can I call a taxi for you?"

Ludwig watched as Halimeda sat on the ground and water soaked the edges of her skirt. She barely looked at him either, and insists she's fine. He tried not to sigh loudly, but now he was dealing with the strange psychology of women, where everything seemed backwards. When she was obviously not okay, sitting out in the street, waiting to get picked up by a random man, she says she is okay.

For a second, it's enough for him to give up and say 'Alright then, have a good night,' but he couldn't leave and let any of the many bad endings to this scenario happen. Not only that, but she had been pleasant company for the little while they had actually spent together.

As he bent down, he noticed small red trails make their way down her skirt. He put out a hand to help her get up. "We both live in the same building, and I'm leaving, so we might as well take the same cab." Hopefully that logic would get her to go home.

Ludwig was surprised when Halimeda kissed him again and it took away from the pain in his face for several moments. He was amused by the fact that she was still thinking about the game, and waited for her to come out.

He watched the ambulance turn the corner, and his hair stood up a bit on his arms. It was a paranoid thought, but he didn't want to be involved in anything if he didn't have to be, so he turned away so that his bruise wouldn't be seen. The siren got louder as it the car pulled up and Halimeda came out just in time. Ludwig watched as she led them inside before heading back to him and the two moved down the street.

On instinct he was going to pull his arm away, but he stopped himself. She was freezing, probably because of sitting on the damp stone ground, and he pulled her a bit closer as they walked a little further down the street.

But her question was a good one. In Germany there was always a cab around in the main cities and they came to certain areas like clockwork. Looking around, it wasn't quite the same way in England. Not only was it late, but there weren't a lot of cars around.

"If we see one, I'll get it, but the complex isn't that far away, if you don't mind walking."

He moved a little further to an intersection and clicked a button to cross the street. He paused, looking down at Halimeda to see if she was alright with it.

Ludwig looked surprised at her comment. "You can, that's right." There was a very similar feature at home, but there were enough good bars to have one within walking distance home. Besides, one needed to burn off some of the calories from beer and clear their head with fresh air before returning home.

"I don't have a phone, though, but if you have one and you feel it would be necessary then you should call. I enjoy walking." In the recesses of his mind was glad Halimeda had agreed to walk with him.

His face went red at her comment, but he figured that the bruise and the night would cover him. "Actually," he wanted to avoid commenting on what she said, "I do have an umbrella. I forgot about it, I apologize." He reached into his coat pocket with his free hand and pulled out a wrapped up umbrella about two hand lengths long. Stepping away from her he ripped off a small tag and flicked the stem out to its full length. Suddenly it flared open, and the black umbrella was middle sized--more than enough for one person but squeezing for two.

The crosswalk beeped and he returned, holding the umbrella over the two of them as they made it across the street. Wordlessly he handed the umbrella to her and removed his jacket. Though illogical, he justified himself mentally--they were already half way there and he had a long sleeved shirt on. He draped it over her, and considering it was still a bit big on him, it would do for her well enough.

"Thank you," he responded, just a bit gruffly, "for your comment earlier." He moved forward and continued on, making sure she was under the umbrella also.

He let the walk continue in silence for a while. Usually he was content with walking and having only thoughts of schedules and such as the rain made its rhythm on the sidewalk, but too many things were happening in such a short amount of time, and his thoughts were riddled with different things. The close proximity of Halimeda wasn't helping either. Ludwig may not always care for the ways of women at times, but he wasn't asexual either.

So many different loops had been thrown at him this week, he decided he might as well let another one loose and start something back up.

"I'm not crazy," he stated, looking straight ahead, "I know it may look that way, considering what happened at the bar. It probably looked strange, staring at your game, and it's even stranger that I'm being very kind to you and walking you home, but I'm not..." what was the English term for it? He didn't know. "Not a woman follower or anything."

He kept on. "And though I may not be entirely right in the head, I feel like it's not my imagination... there have been strange things happening at our complex."

And all of it was where Ludwig had hoped he didn't turn the conversation. Yet he did, and he had just ranted on some woman who probably now held doubts he was insane, if she hadn't before. Maybe he wouldn't see her again, and if so, then he wouldn't have to worry unduly about her reaction.

"I don't like it either," he managed, trying to be a little sympathetic. Her eyes were downcast and everything had probably just hit home with her. He squeezed her hand back, "I'm free for the rest of the week, if you would not mind playing the game at some other time. I don't think the bar will mind having me back, because I didn't break any furniture, and if it does then there has to be another bar somewhere nearby, unless your brother works there or something." Ludwig felt bad about ruining her night, and as they were approaching the front gate he realized he was running out of time to make it up to her.

He pulled out his key, fumbling with it into the lock. Though it wasn't on purpose, he had to wait for an answer, and it was buying him a bit of time.

"Yes, I would like to try to go and play tomorrow, thank you." And, suddenly, the lock clicked.

Funny how those things worked sometimes...

"Thank you for the compliment, and, well." He stumbled with a parting as he opened the gate and stepped inside. He didn't know what floor she was on, and now that he--and she--were home, he should probably just head back.

He walked over to the door to the staircase, not realizing how fast his legs were taking him. He turned back quickly, gave her a quick nod, and disappeared behind the door.

-----

He sped up the stairs at a breakneck pace, making it quickly to the fifth floor and even faster still into his room, slamming it shut behind him. When he was safely in his apartment, he sighed and leaned against the door.

That was an interesting encounter.

He made his way over to the drawer to grab a notepad. He wanted to record some of his observations and study them to figure out whether she was crazy or he was.

Because she was gorgeous, and it would be unfair if she was insane. Or he was.

He fell onto the bed, the pen cap at the corner of his mouth as he muttered a few things under his breath as he wrote a few words down.

Tendency to kiss = ?
Knows how to play billiards = +
Eyes
Hair
Laugh
Kiss
Lips

His mind tried remembering each as he wrote them down, but his mind was telling him that he needed to sleep. In his shutting down state he wrote down a few more things, pleasant enough before bed time.

Ludwig fell asleep with the notepad in his hand and the pen cap in his mouth.

Very similar to someone else = Remembering old things again = + = Like Elizaveta = +?+

Ludwig felt a bit groggy waking up Saturday morning, realizing that something had happened the night before when he nearly choked on a pen cap stored in the corner of his mouth. Next to him was a notepad of scribbled notes--the kind he took when he knew he would need to remember something in the morning.

Ludwig pushed the pad off the bed; he remembered exactly what had happened Friday night. And he remembered most of what he wrote down. He stood up and dressed, proud of himself for not drinking enough to wipe his memory. He went out to go to his living room, but paused, walking back over to the bed to retrieve the notepad and pen from the floor.

With pen and paper in hand Ludwig sat on the couch, making a very broad schedule for the day. He ripped off the notes from the night before and began a new page. He'd have to push everything back a bit for waking up late. He'd have to be at the gym at 10:30 instead of 9:30.... Everything wrote out for the day: Gym, back home to change and shower, lunch, studying, groceries (he made a mental note to make a list for that.) But his evening s left blank. He promised to meet the mysterious Halimeda he had met the previous night, but he had no information to go on, except for the place. No time, no number to call her, not a thing. Of course, he could just go to the bar and wait to see if she showed up, but if she didn't, then it would have been a colossal waste of his time.

Sitting there to ponder both ideas, he pushed back the gym another fifteen minutes. He had to get started on his day soon, and this business threw off his whole schedule. He'd get up in thirteen minutes. Could he figure it out in that time?