Forever and a Day of Storms and Shelter [Ludwig/Carmen]

[Deleted]

Bloody rotten London weather. Spring was supposed to be beautiful and sunny and warm, and today couldn't have been more different: typical of most London days, rain had been falling lightly all day, yet not ten minutes ago the wind had whipped up and the drizzle from the sky had become a torrent. Vicious thunderstorms were not what anyone had been expecting: people huddled beneath awnings of shops, watching the sky, listening to the distant booming of thunder, and waiting for the worst of the squall to pass. Ludwig had been hurrying home when the clouds had burst open and now, half-hidden under a wind-warped umbrella, he couldn't seem to find a place to stand out of the downpour. When the weatherman had predicted "rain" on the television that morning, the man thought bitterly, it had obviously been a bit of an understatement.

Ludwig lowered his umbrella against the sheets of rain lashing down and drove forward, continuing to rush along the sidewalk in search of a hiding spot. A flash of color through the torrent caught his eye and, curious, he twisted around and promptly caught a face-full of water. Umbrella now adjusted, he could make out the sign of a cafe through the storm: The Three Tomatoes. Ludwig had passed by the cafe a few times before, and the odd name helped to stick the place in his memory where other establishments had been quickly forgotten. In London, Ludwig had learned, cafes usually sported either a brand name, a person's name, or some terrible pun involving tea or coffee. Yet this place had always seemed warmer, a touch more homey, and the name testified to that as well. And right now, with the open sign lit in the window, it looked as welcoming as anywhere could possibly get. Hurrying out of the rain, Ludwig ducked inside the cafe, folding up his mangled umbrella and leaving it standing by the door.

Other people were escaping the bad weather inside the cafe as well: some groups of friends and a few families had made themselves at home at some of the larger tables. But most of the smaller tables remained empty, and Ludwig made his way to one of these, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind him. Sitting at a table right up against the window, he watched the rain hammer the glass for a moment before turning back to check out the cafe properly. Compared to the grey scenery outside, the cafe appeared almost shockingly colorful, but Ludwig had been right in his assumptions: every inch of the place seemed to exude warmth and comfort. In that case, he quickly decided, this would be a good place to pass the time. The politician shrugged off his suit jacket and hung it on the back of his chair before picking up a menu. He'd have a coffee and dry himself off and wait out the storm here.

[Deleted]

Carmen had a very strange relationship with the weather of London; in fact, to be more specific, it could be described as a love-hate relationship. She typically disliked the heavy rain when caught in the flood of water herself, drenching her hair and making it cling against her skin in a irritating manner she found not very attractive at all. However, at the same time, the less than pleasant weather was a good drive to push people to the shelter of her modest cafe. It was welcoming, cheerful, not overwhelming in the least, and provided a nice place to let people wait out Mother Nature's short fits. It wasn't that she needed the business, as it did quite well on its own, but any extra would always be happily greeted. So, as a result, Carmen was grateful and scornful of the ridiculous weather there in the august United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. The doors opened for the nth time that day, the bell on the door alerting her to a new customer to take care of as there was a rather loud rumble of thunder. The rain crashed against the windows in a seemingly never ending barrage, and Carmen saw a flash of lightning out the corner of her eye. She finished tending to the table of five who were ordering their deserts after their meal, and dropped the order off to her crew in the kitchen before observing the arrival to see if he was anyone of notable significance. It was a blonde man, with his hair slicked back (or perhaps in such a state due to the rain) and his shoulders outlining his large frame. His face dripped with raindrops; he had most likely received a face full of water before retreating to the Three Tomatoes as a temporary sanctuary. He appeared quite muscular and he clearly kept in shape; his expression was one of mild annoyance and exhaustion after a long day of work. With a small grin, Carmen recognized the newcomer to be Ludwig Beilschmidt, a well-known politician -- of course, not as well known as the rising Arthur Kirkland, but still out there for the world to criticize with trenchant distrust. "Isabella, please mop the floor when you're finished clearing your table!" She called to her employee, stilling smiling as she was answered with a small murmur of understanding. "Thank you, querida~." Pulling out her notepad and her pen from behind her ear as her usual routine, Carmen beamed to her customer with genuine sincerity to be waiting on him. Her voice was blithe and warm. "Hello, querido! I must say, it's a pleasure to have you here today. I do hope the weather wasn't too terrible out there! What can I get for you?"

words: 457 tag: por ludwig, mi amor <3 notes: te amo <3

MADE BY HABBUE OF GS

[Deleted]

As he watched the scenery outside continue to suffer the pounding of the storm, Ludwig fished around in his coat pockets for a handkerchief. It proved a futile effort; the handkerchief had apparently been forgotten at home. Ludwig helped himself to the napkin at his place setting instead and buried his face in it, drying up the droplets of rain that still lingered there. Inhaling the pleasantly clean scent of the fabric, he mused on the many things he would have done differently if only he'd known in advance about this storm. He'd have driven his own car to work, for one, and he'd have brought not a napkin or a handkerchief but an entire towel in the off chance that he'd need to dry off. Possibly another suit as well, and a second pair of shoes. Definitely more than one umbrella. God, he loved London well enough, but the English weather could be genuinely spiteful at times.

The sound of approaching footsteps snapped Ludwig out of his musings, and he hastily set the now-damp napkin to the side. The woman who greeted him could only have been the boss: she had an authoritative look about her, and seemed to be coordinating most of the work. Ludwig couldn't help feeling a little surprised: for someone in her position, she seemed young and energetic and fairly free of any stress. Something about the atmosphere of the cafe had him expecting an older woman, like a grandmother, to be in charge. But perhaps this was just due to the fact that the places run by people his age tended towards having more elitist attitudes. Curiosity was scratching at the corner of his thoughts, but before Ludwig could get any questions out, the waitress cut him off.

"Isabella, please mop the floor when you're finished clearing your table!"

Hastily, the politician shut his mouth, and guilty blue eyes shifted their gaze to the entrance floor, where his wet footprints had started to meld together into one large puddle. It was some small mercy that no one had slipped in it yet. That would have been an absurd headline to explain, Ludwig realized: "M.o.P. Makes Mess in Cafe; Kills Innocent Bystander."

"I'm so sorry about the floor," he broke in, after the woman had finished talking with Isabella. "I probably should have brought it up, but I was too happy to be out of that to pay attention, apparently." He inclined his head at the window, and almost theatrically, a fresh wave of rain lashed loudly at the glass. At least he had good reason to drag himself indoors sopping wet, Ludwig understood. To her credit, the woman didn't seem all that irritated with him. Maybe a lot of people had tracked water in… or maybe she was just that nice of a person. He'd have to assume the former, if only because the latter was so rare. Nevertheless, Ludwig sat up a bit straighter in his seat.

"Could I have a coffee, please? No cream or sugar. And," he hesitated, thinking briefly about food. Something hot, like bread fresh out of the oven or a bowl of soup would probably take the chill from the rain away. But he didn't plan to linger here for a meal, as comfortable as the cafe appeared. The weather would pass soon enough; he felt certain about that, and he had other business to get back to. "Have you got anything really hot to eat, something that wouldn't be too big, like…" A cursory glance around the cafe at the patrons and then back at the waitress caused Ludwig's train of thought to gently derail. Instead of finishing his question, Ludwig instead spoke up, "Can I ask why this place is called 'The Three Tomatoes'?"

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Carmen raised an eyebrow, a bit off-put but entertained at his words and his continuous changing train of thought. It was diverging into multiple tracks at once, easily switching to some varied inquiries, and she smiled, amused. He seemed to be much different in person; on television and in the papers he seemed to be able to focus on one thought well enough. It was endearing, really, if not slightly confusing if one could not keep up with how quickly a conversation's direction could change. “Don't worry, it's not your fault,” she said cheerfully, writing down his partial order, “everyone has been tracking in some over the course of today. You're hardly to blame for any of it~.” Since he hadn't completely finished his order, Carmen took the liberty to note on her pad to give him some churros and maybe a cookie or two fresh from the oven to go. They were delicious, a quick treat, and cinnamon of the pastry did wonders to warm people up and brighten their moods overall, she knew – years of experience did pay off. She'd received many receptive responses and it was rare a person disliked them, and she would of course take them back and exchange it for something else instead, free of charge. Years of experience had also told her it would be better to do whatever she could to keep the customers pleased and satisfied so they would return more for later, rather than irritating them by charging them for something they hadn't enjoyed and driving them away to never come back. “A regular black coffee and churros coming right up! Ah, The Three Tomatoes,” Carmen began with a beam; this story would be relatively short, seeing as there was not much to explain. She didn't mind at all explaining its origin – even though she was an information broker, something like this wasn't worth charging – considering it was something small and simple from her childhood. It certainly brought back the reminiscent feeling of nostalgia, and it was something Carmen sometimes liked to experience every now and then again. “Mm, the name was my idea when I was younger. My father, when trying to brainstorm a name that would offer comfort and a friendly feeling to the place, asked me for ideas. Being a child – one who loved tomatoes – thought of the name The Three Tomatoes because it reminded me of a family.” The rest was self-explanatory in Carmen's mind, and she didn't see any reason to possibly insult her customer's intelligence by giving an unwanted explanation. Although, it would possibly lead to more questions about her personal life and her family since she had not mentioned a mother. That was entering into the information she would like not to disclose (although not something she would threaten just to keep), and would change the subject if necessary. “So, querido, do you have any more questions before I go to get your order~?”

words: 496 tag: ludwig, mi amor <3 notes: tú preguntas mucho

MADE BY HABBUE OF GS

[Deleted]

Sitting stock still in his chair in the middle of this café, Ludwig felt rather like a child who had been caught asking a stupid question in school. Thank heavens that the waitress seemed to be patient, although the quirked eyebrow at his questions worried the man that perhaps he'd overstepped the line of curiosity into rudeness. And she hadn't even blamed him for getting rain all over her floor on top of that. Ludwig calmly resolved himself to accept that he wouldn't get an answer about the name of the place, not after everything else he'd asked, but to his frank surprise, the waitress offered him even that -- of course, after putting down his order for a black coffee and churros, a treat he'd heard of before but couldn't recall ever having tried.

He listened to her politely, eyebrows slightly raised: the explanation hadn't been the one he'd expected at all but made genuine sense nonetheless. So her father had owned the café, and she had taken over it when he'd retired or passed on? She wasn't just a waitress, then, but also the owner. That was impressive, and another host of questions rose to the forefront of Ludwig's mind. He silenced them for the time being; he was not going to waste more of this poor woman's time with idle curiosities. He'd never taken this kind of attitude with restaurant workers, and it didn't take Ludwig long to resolve why. He was used to a handful of reactions: people fawning over him in hopes of a good tip or even for attention, people snubbing him because of his political position, or people harassing him when he just wanted to enjoy a meal in peace. Here, though -- here was genuine kindness.

It was rather refreshing.

"That's a very sweet story," he offered once she'd finished speaking. "I hope I didn't trouble you, I was just curious." When the waitress asked if he had any further questions, Ludwig's cheeks turned pink. Perhaps he'd bothered her just a little bit after all.

"Ah, no, no," he assured her quickly, waving his hands a bit and resolving to think twice before just grilling a veritable stranger for information, "You answered my question about the name of the place and that's plenty, really. Don't let me keep you from your work, I'm sure you're busy. And thank you in advance for the coffee and snacks." He flashed her the hint of a smile before turning to glance out the rain-soaked window in an attempt to preserve himself from further embarrasment.

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She laughed at his apparent embarrassment, thinking it was cute. His pale cheeks were becoming a bit flushed -- it was even more adorable because it was so obvious. But she did pity him; it must be hard, not being able to hide it. She waved her notepad, dismissing the thought of him being considered trouble. He had the air of being quite strict, the workaholic type. Carmen wasn't quite familiar with them, necessarily, but she recognized they could be a stickler for rules and considered having what people often called "a stick up their ass". Carmen both was similar and different from these descriptions -- she tended to be one who followed the rules as well, but she was much more easy-going and laid-back in general. She did nag every now and then, yes, but it wasn't like she was imposing strict regulations on others. ...At least, she hoped not. "Thanks, querido," she smiled warmly, rather pleased with herself that she had supplied the answers he was looking for, "I'm glad you enjoyed it! Oh, no trouble at all! I don't mind in the least~. A little small talk is never a bad thing!" Taking a quick glance around the large room, Carmen perused the amount of customers they currently had. A fair amount, mostly due to the horrible weather outside, but nothing her employees couldn't handle. "Tell you what," Carmen gave him a playful grin, pocketing her notepad and tucking her pen back into its usual place behind her ear and winked. "I'll go grab your order, and we can chat a little longer! It's not too busy, so I'll get your order, and if you didn't mind, maybe I could sit down with you and have a little chat~? I would like having the chance to talk to such a nice guy!"

words: 305 tag: ludwiggg cutie <3 notes: sorry i took so long and that it's so short!

MADE BY HABBUE OF GS

[Deleted]

Well, at least she said that she hadn’t minded talking to him. Ludwig supposed that counted for something, whether or not the cafe owner actually meant it. He gave a short nod in agreement and let his gaze wander, assuming that their conversation had ended and that he should patiently wait for his coffee and snacks in the meantime. To his surprise, apparently the woman had other ideas. Ludwig disguised his confusion effortlessly.

”If you’d like,” he answered, ”it’s perfectly fine with me.” And he shot her a quick smile, grateful for the compliment she’d paid him about him being a ‘nice guy’. Ludwig had been called a variety of things, but nice? That was extraordinarily rare. Of course, it was entirely possible she was just trying to warm him up so that he’d leave a bigger tip when he left (and shamefully, it did seem to be working pretty well) but until he got a more obvious sign of that, Ludwig let his suspicions lie. It was just like him, to expect the worst of people right away, and now that he thought about it, her willingness to talk to him could be covering for an ulterior motive as well. His face wasn’t exactly an anonymous one; perhaps the waitress wanted to discuss politics, or sway him to some personal cause or hers, or try to wring him for the latest classified updates on the most pressing issues — things that shouldn’t leave the confines of Parliament but inevitably ended up slipping off of some MP’s tongue at an inopportune moment.

By now the waitress had hurried off, and Ludwig took advantage of the solitude to rub his forehead wearily. His parents had wanted him to be a doctor, and although he’d refused to pursue that career, it would have at least been far less complicated. He liked many aspects of working in politics, but the effective isolation once you became famous enough wasn’t fun. And not being able to trust people ate at him too. Even his own coworkers could be frustratingly sneaky — with the notable exception of Arthur.

Stop it, he scolded himself, once again sitting up a little straighter in his chair. You wanted to talk to her, so you have to accept whatever consequences come with that. Talking to people didn’t usually have consequences, Ludwig wanted to argue, but in the end it didn’t matter: he still had to stay here and get his coffee, and the storm showed no signs of ending; the people hiding under the awnings outside awaiting the end of the downpour had all vanished, either fleeing indoors like he had or making a run through the bad weather towards home. He would cling to some small hope, Ludwig decided, that he could keep their conversation on the cafe whenever the friendly owner returned.

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Hurrying off to grab the order, Carmen was pleased. It was lucky that the man had been willing to initiate a conversation besides pure business -- especially a man who was such an esteemed member of Parliament. It was a wonderful opportunity that had suddenly jumped into her lap, and Carmen would have to be a fool to let it get away so easily. This was more of the manipulation side that came with the job of being an information broker, but she wasn't going to be digging for anything too deep. Any information from the government would be welcomed, regardless of whether or not it was relative to any dark secrets they may be keeping. She had enough information on the lawless side at the moment, but she was lacking in the government department; in her line of work, both were often required to entertain the other side in business deals. She tried to ignore the guilt tugging on her sleeve, gathering the cup of coffee and baked goods. Both were radiating warmth, the drink perhaps a bit too hot, but she piled them on a tray anyways. Time was not be wasted, at this point. Although Mr. Beilschmidt was an apparently mild-mannered, polite, and seemingly nice man, it didn't change the fact that he was of the government. It was nothing personal; nothing ever should be when brokering information to multiple parties. Tray firmly in hand, Carmen returned to the table, and placed the order in appropriate areas, beaming. "Here you are, querido! I hope it's too your liking!" She put the tray on a close stand near the table, and returned to where Ludwig was sitting, taking the seat opposite of him. She leaned forward, eagerly. "Alright, your turn! I answered your questions, time to answer mine. Fair is fair, sí~?"

words: 304 tag: Ludwig Beilschmidt notes: short but sweet

MADE BY HABBUE OF GS

[Ludwig Beilschmidt]

Ludwig didn’t keep track of how long he’d been watching the rainstorm but in no time at all the waitress had returned with his order. The snack he’d asked about, the churros the woman had mentioned before, turned out to be a kind of cinnamon-dusted pastry, but they certainly looked good. Ludwig allowed them to cool a little and helped himself to the coffee, holding the mug between his hands to warm his fingers up.

”Thanks very much,” he replied. ”It looks great.” As the cafe owner left, for a brief moment Ludwig wondered if she’d forgotten about her suggestion to have a chat; that would have been some relief off him. But nope, she had just gone to replace the tray. Defeated, Ludwig still vowed that he’d be polite and generous, but he certainly hoped she didn’t ask him about anything too secretive. Or anything weird. He got a fair share of people coming up to him in public to ask things like how they kept the lizard people that lived in the sewers below Parliament at bay or where the secret bunkers for MPs were located.

As the waitress sat down across from him and made it clear that she had questions of her own that she wanted to ask, Ludwig nodded. "It is only fair," he agreed, taking a bite of a churro; the sweet snack actually tasted pretty good, especially with his coffee. Munching quietly for a moment, he abruptly realized he'd forgotten his manners.

"I'm so sorry- you can go ahead and ask your questions, but first, I don't believe I ever got your name," Ludwig apologized, wiping cinnamon off his fingers with a napkin before extending a hand to the woman seated across from him. "Ludwig Beilschmidt." He had a feeling the woman knew who he was; there had been a look of recognition in her face when she'd greeted him before. But still, it would have been rude to talk to the cafe owner without knowing what he could call her... no matter what kinds of questions she wanted to ask. "And you are?"

SPOILER: Click to show

{Spoiler}@femspain Here you go, also short and hopefully sweet

[Deleted]

THE MI6 hopefully wouldn't mind her doing a little extra digging -- the more information the better, right? Besides being able to find out some about the government in order to deter any possible lawless customers, this was a rare chance. Imagine, being able to talk with the potential Prime Minister of the United Kingdom! It was a great opportunity, and Carmen was determined at all costs to make the most of this lucky chance. "It is only fair." There was a noticeable pause as the politician took a bite from her prized pastries, chewing thoughtfully. It seemed to be a pleasant expression, overall, and Carmen felt a small smile spread across her lips. "I'm so sorry- you can go ahead and ask your questions, but first, I don't believe I ever got your name." The way he apologized was intriguing, not at all like other typical politician who ran the country with sugarcoated words. No, his apology was sincere -- truly, Mr. Beilschmidt was a diamond among the rough. After thoroughly cleaning his hands, he reached one out in a familiar motion for introductions."Ludwig Beilschmidt. And you are?" "Oh, I'm sorry!" Carmen exclaimed, putting her own hand forward to clasp his to shake it. "I'm Carmen Fernandez-Carriedo, at your service! But please, call me Carmen." She laughed, amused at his introduction. As courteous as the rumors said, Ludwig Beilschmidt was indeed a gentleman. It was a relief to know that some form of politeness continued to exist in the world, and that at least a few managed to retain their manners. "It's an honor to meet you, Señor Beilschmidt. You're quite popular in the papers these days." Releasing his hand, Carmen tapped her fingers on the smooth surface on the table. She was a bit excited now; primary sources were always the best in this business. She couldn't wait to brag to Vash about this. "Okay, first question! I've heard it a million times now, I'd like to hear it from your own lips: you are running for Prime Minister, sí? What are your primary goals if you are elected?" A generic question to warm up before the tedious process of digging deeper. Politics most certainly weren't Carmen's forte, but she could at least pretend it was for the time being.

words: 385 tag: Ludwig Beilschmidt notes: ok tbh i didn't know what to talk about at all?? politics at first and then we'll move to the more personal juicy gossip mmmm

MADE BY HABBUE OF GS

[Ludwig Beilschmidt]

Words: 558

@femspain

Color: #003366

Notes: I live

”Carmen,” Ludwig echoed, inwardly relieved that he would not be required to remember the mouthful that was the café owner’s last name, ”pleased to meet you.” As he retrieved his coffee cup and nursed another sip of the hot bitter liquid, he tried to read the woman, attempting to find out her motivations for wanting to have this kind of a conversation. The little café had gotten slightly less busy, and it was true that Ludwig himself had started this when he’d asked about the place’s name, but it did seem somewhat strange to him that someone who clearly cared about this place so much would set aside work for a chance to speak to him about anything other than something important. Perhaps that was her eventual aim, then. Or perhaps she just felt confident that the other workers could manage without her direct help.

When Carmen mentioned the papers, Ludwig’s mouth twitched upwards into half of a wry smile. ”It depends on what papers you read, I think.” When it came to newspapers, Ludwig rarely knew what to think. Most of the newspapers were at least passingly kind towards him, but a lot focused on just how young (inexperienced) he was, or how severe some of the measures he proposed actually were. The tabloids, of course, just made things up — although Ludwig had to admit that whoever they had on staff as a graphic artist was quite good at photoshopping.

”It’s generous of you to say that, so pardon my manners. I’m mostly used to hearing less than kind things,” he apologized to Carmen; thankfully, she didn’t seem too bothered, and leaned in with her first question.

Ah, there it was. While Ludwig kept his expression the same, inwardly he felt a little disappointed. Everyone always asked him questions like these — and worse, Carmen sounded more like a reporter in an interview as opposed to a curious stranger. However, Ludwig didn’t go back on his promises, and he’d promised Carmen that she could ask questions. Carefully, he set his coffee cup down.

”I wouldn’t say I’m running — but if my party nominates me, I’ll accept the nomination,” he answered calmly. ”Nothing is certain, though, so everyone will have to wait until the next election to find out regarding that. If I were selected for that and won…” He had to be careful, now. His goals and plans were important to him, and he loved sharing the details with people. However, giving too much away might remove any element of surprise that might have worked towards his advantage, especially if the details were leaked to the press. Ludwig would have to be vague… no matter how passionate he felt about this.

”I’d like to tune up the healthcare system to make it more efficient, and more effort should go towards fixing the education system,” he mused, before adding ”and I’d very much like to do something about the problem London’s been experiencing with the criminal underground lately. Of course, those aren’t all of my goals, but those are the biggest ones.” Satisfied with his response, he nodded and took another bite of churro. ”I suppose I should ask, is there anything about this country that you’d like to see changed?”

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