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Unnamed Busboy Blog Entry |
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December 29, 2023, 3:00:31 AM 12/29/23: r/SketchDaily theme, "Free Draw Friday." This week's character from my anthro WWII storyline is "Unnamed Busboy." He's never given a name in the story as he's a recurring bit character with only one line, I think, toward the end of the story, though he does play an important, surprise role in the fate of one of the secondary characters. There'll be more about him later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se. Regarding his design, he's of an indeterminate breed, possibly part greyhound; all I can say is he's presumably French, as the one line he speaks is in French, and that one line is a big spoiler. I could've drawn the back of his head a bit bigger, ah well, maybe next time. TUMBLR EDIT: Immediate Reddit reply to my post: GenderNeutralBot [score hidden] 4 minutes ago Hello. In order to promote inclusivity and reduce gender bias, please consider using gender-neutral language in the future. Instead of busboy, use busser. Thank you very much. Response I wish I could post but have refrained: If "busboy" is what offends you most about a Nazi-themed period piece, boy have you got some odd priorities, bot. Moving along... Telling anything about this particular character will spoil his role in the plot, so let me start with his single (so far) known line: "Vive le Valet de Carreau!" I don't know anything really about Unnamed Busboy's past, other than that he's presumably French, and possibly Roma; he seems to speak only French, though he understands and can write in German. I don't know how he came to be in Germany, working in a shady nightclub, though there are numerous possibilities. Unnamed Busboy appears repeatedly, though briefly, throughout the story as a sort of running gag. He works at the Mesmer Club, the same nightclub where Sophie Sommer and Mitzi work and where Lt. Gunter Hesse, Master Sgt. Theodor Schulte, and other members of the SS go to chill out. It's an open secret that the club hostesses engage in an illicit sex trade (Sophie does eventually drop this to remain exclusive to Hesse, becoming his mistress), and presumably other illegal activity occurs there as well. (Hesse's boss, Col. Heidenreich, has a sign in his office that reads Swing Tanzen Verboten--"Swing dancing forbidden"--I saw this on the wall of a mocked-up office display in a museum photo online and thought it was so hilariously in character for Heidenreich that he should have one--so while the Mesmer Club usually specializes in, well, whatever you'd call nightclub-style singing, I can completely imagine them having themed nights dedicated to, say, big band or even GASP jazz music THE HORROR.) So, the Mesmer Club is kind of an odd place similar to Frau Bitterlich's brothel; almost certainly illegal, yet (mostly) tolerated, mainly because it's the law enforcers (SS) who frequent the place. (Frau Bitterlich does deal with occasional official SS visits, though these are usually related to the rumor of her having a Jewish girl, and they never find one so nothing comes of it. Mirjam Zweifel simply hides under the stairs on such visits.) For his part, Heidenreich, who's in charge of investigating such atrocities, usually avoids visiting the club (Hesse does too, until Schulte drags him there one evening and then he sees Sophie), knowing he'll likely be exposed to "degenerate trash" he doesn't wish to see, though he does drop in briefly once, meets Mitzi, and his part in the story takes an especially dark turn. But anyway. It's Schulte who's the focus of the Unnamed Busboy plot. He introduces his boss Hesse to the club and Hesse falls head over heels for main hostess Sophie, which Schulte had rather expected--tall, blond haired, blue eyed, she's the ideal Aryan woman, well, except for the makeup and, you know, that whole degenerate nightclub hostess thing. But anyway. Hesse, like Schulte, becomes a regular visitor, and they have a regular table near the back, where Sophie knows to look while she's performing, and she always smiles at Hesse a bit more lingeringly than at the others. In an adult WIP of mine, Schulte explains why he hasn't made a move on "Songbird Sophie": He and Schulte sat at a table to the side of the room and out of the way, so she didn't notice either of them on the first two visits, paying most of her attention to the men in the center of the room. Hesse didn't mind; it was fascinating just to observe her at work. The third visit, as she sang she made fleeting eye contact with various people as usual, and just happened to let her glance drift further to the side, fixing on Hesse; although he didn't visibly react, it was as if a jolt passed through him when their eyes met. She blinked, as if surprised to see him there, then her mouth turned up ever so slightly, that sweet smile she gave all the other men. Hesse felt his own face mirroring hers before she turned away and resumed strolling across the stage; from the corner of his eye he noticed Schulte peering at him, and could tell he'd noticed the entire exchange. He looked directly at him, but all Schulte did was smirk and say, "Boss," in a meaningful way, and return his attention to the song. Their way home from the club that night, he couldn't get her lovely singing out of his head, or her lovely stare. He wasn't the sort to be distracted by things, but he was definitely distracted that night. It wasn't until their fourth visit that, after she was done singing, she descended from the stage to mingle with the crowd, as usual, yet headed toward his table rather than into the main part of the room. He and Schulte both stood as she approached and she smiled at them both, though her stare lingered on Hesse. Schulte immediately took the hint--downing the rest of his drink in one swallow, "Bis später, Boss," he said, and left the table. Hesse pulled out a chair and Sophie sat. When he sat back down as well she gave him the sweetest smile he'd ever seen, and again like a mirror he smiled back. "Sophie," she said, offering her hand so he briefly took it. "Gunter," he replied. Her smile grew, and he could swear his heart thumped in response. "Hallo, Herr Gunter." They'd talked for hours afterward, about all different things, though mostly getting to know each other. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a conversation; he was a little out of practice, but it was definitely refreshing. After that, he attended the club every Tuesday and Thursday, and although she couldn't spend all her time chatting with him, more often when her act was done she would join him at his table and they would talk until the lights were turned down and it was time to close. Every time he exited the club Schulte would ask, "Well, Boss--? Did she jump your bones yet?" which always made him roll his eyes and inform the master sergeant that that wasn't the way he did things. "Boss, I'm just starting to wonder if you ever do things," Schulte replied one night, giving a fatalistic shrug. "What about you?" Hesse retorted; Schulte just furrowed his brow. "You're the one who called her the pretty little songbird, said we should go watch her sing. Yet every time she comes to our table, you leave. You've never tried anything? Why is that? What's wrong with her?" Schulte shrugged again. "She's not my type." Hesse let out a disbelieving noise. "Not your type? I've seen your type. Your type is any type. The blonder and bluer-eyed the better. How does she not fit the bill...?" "Boss, she's your type," Schulte replied matter-of-factly. "Smart, talky...ah...sophisticated. There's your fancy ten-Reichsmark word for the day. But anyway, put me in a bed with her and I'd have no idea what to say." "I had the impression you wouldn't do much talking at all." "That's right, Boss, and it just proves my point. You two are still talking and have yet to be in a bed! She's your type." Well...he had a point. Someone else pays attention to Schulte whenever he visits the club: The handsome, mysterious busboy always smiles coyly and makes eyes at him when he passes by. Of course, Schulte finds this utterly horrifying--he's not into men at all (seriously--he REALLY likes women and isn't too picky at all, he has a bunch of kids by different mothers, young, older, slim, plump, tall, short, Nordic, swarthy, single, married, if they're interested in him he's willing to oblige), and also, THIS IS THE THIRD REICH AND IT'S FREAKING ILLEGAL. The running joke is that nobody else ever seems to notice whenever this happens, which is frequently; they're always busy doing something else or looking the other way. The busboy smiles invitingly at Schulte, lowers his eyelids and tilts his head seductively, winks and blows a kiss, brushes by a bit too close, leans over the table a bit too far to get right in his face while serving drinks or taking dishes away. Schulte tries to point this out to Hesse a few times but Hesse never quite sees it happening. Schulte: "Boss! Did you see...?" Hesse: "What, Schulte?" Schulte: "That fellow made eyes at me." Hesse: *furrowing brow* "Made eyes...?" Schulte: "Ja, Boss, eyes! F**k-me eyes." Hesse: *increasingly confused* "What the hell are 'f**k-me eyes'--?" Schulte: "Boss, bitte, you know f**k-me eyes, you get them from women all the time. But every time we come here that fellow makes those eyes at me." Hesse: "If that's the case then you think everyone makes eyes at you! It doesn't make it so. Women aren't falling over themselves making f**k-me eyes at me, you're imagining things." Schulte: "Boss, maybe you don't pay them any mind, that's why I end up taking care of business. Most of the pretty Fräulein I make off with googled their eyes at you first. I won't judge you for not noticing. But I tell you I'm not imagining it. That fellow has a problem." Hesse: "What do you want me to do about it, then? You want to bring him in for questioning?" Schulte: *blinks* "Nein! I don't want to get some poor weirdo shot just for making f**k-me eyes." Hesse: *shrugs* "Well, then...!" Schulte, when confronted by this directly--does he want this guy taken out and shot for blatant perversion?--realizes that...well, it's rather flattering to be shown such interest. Even from another guy. Women like him just fine, but it's like he says, often, it's Hesse they're drawn to first. Schulte isn't ugly but Hesse is definitely the attractive one of the pair. For someone to flirt with HIM first is a good morale boost...and, well, even though it's a guy and there's no way in hell he'll ever reciprocate, still, it's nice to be the first one noticed, and the guy is even good looking himself--he could land someone like Hesse if he wanted and if Hesse went that way--so...yeah. Schulte has to snuff out his train of thought before it goes too far because he's already pretty flustered. He tells himself to just suck it up and ignore the guy...while secretly enjoying the attention. This is the regular state of things, the continuing joke--the nameless handsome busboy harmlessly flirting with the flustered Schulte every time they cross paths--until the climax of the story. Hesse is gunned down by his own allies after turning on the Reich at the last minute, driving the Dobermann family and Tobias Schäfer away to safety. Schulte arrives at the Dobermann estate only after it's been seized by German troops; a bystander tells him the direction Hesse drove off in (ostensibly to take Schäfer and the Dobermanns away for interrogation and then execution), and Schulte follows. On the way he passes several Wehrmacht vehicles heading back to the estate and speeds up, a sinking feeling in his gut. He finds Hesse lying in the road near his vehicle, the doors still standing open, and jumps off his motorcycle to hurry over to him, kneeling and lifting him by the shoulders to cradle him close as he sobs, "Boss, Boss." Hesse had always been patient and good to him, giving him a chance when others brushed him off as an idiot; so his death hits Schulte especially hard. He's racked with guilt that he wasn't there when Hesse needed him most...then suddenly he remembers Sophie. Sophie recently disclosed that she's pregnant. Hesse loved her enough to make plans to leave the SS if they wouldn't allow their marriage--a startlingly bold promise, given how much the SS meant to him. Last Schulte knew, Sophie was still at the Mesmer Club, waiting for Hesse to come for her and take her away from the city--something that will never happen, now. Schulte may not have been in time to help Hesse, but he can still help Sophie, and Hesse's unborn child. Tearfully leaving Hesse behind, Schulte hops back on his motorcycle and speeds back to the city. It's in near-total chaos, everyone trying to flee the approaching Allies while the SS, attempting to implement martial law, tries to keep them there; it's only Schulte's uniform that lets him get through unassailed. He finds the Mesmer Club all but abandoned; knowing that Sophie rarely ever leaves, and has nobody important in her life but Hesse, he hurries to the back of the club and into the hall, heading for Sophie's room. He finds her waiting anxiously; her worry turns to dread, and then grief, as Schulte informs her Hesse won't be coming for her. He says that he's come to shuttle her out of the city instead, the last good thing he can do for his old boss: "I'll make sure you and the baby stay safe, Fräulein Sophie, but you have to come with me!" To his dismay, however, Sophie refuses to leave: "Without my Gunter, what do I have left?" Schulte tries to convince her to live for their unborn child--it's what Hesse would've wanted, surely?--yet Sophie only grows more despondent and more stubborn; she simply can't imagine any life worth living without Hesse. Just like with Schulte, he saw the worth in her, and despite her unsavory past, accepted her without question. If she can't live with him, then she doesn't want to live at all. Schulte argues with her a bit longer, but it's pointless, Sophie won't budge. He finally is forced to give up--"Fine! Stay! But I'm going!"--and storms out. He hopes she'll come to her senses and follow him, so he slows his step a bit; and indeed, after a moment he hears footsteps and a click. He whirls around to wave Sophie forward, only to blink in confusion. The person facing him isn't Sophie--it's the flirty busboy. And he's holding a gun. Schulte furrows his brow. "You--?" he blurts out. In response the busboy raises the gun and points it at him; an odd glint enters his eyes, a look Schulte is completely unaccustomed to--he feels like he's actually being looked down on, for once. "Vive le Valet de Carreau!" the busboy says. Schulte just blinks again--he doesn't speak French. The busboy smiles, winks--and fires. The bullet slams into Schulte's forehead and Schulte promptly hits the floor--he dies without even knowing WTF that was all about. The busboy waits a few seconds, nudges Schulte with his foot--nothing. He pulls a chalk stick from his pocket and scrawls on the nearby wall: BRUNFTOCHSE. Rutting ox...the insulting nickname chosen for Schulte by the elusive leader of the resistance Diamond Network, Josef Diamant. AKA the Jack of Diamonds. While he's writing, he hears somebody call out, "Herr Theo--?" and glances toward the back of the club. Finishes writing, tosses the chalk. Makes sure his gun is ready to fire again and makes his way silently to the back. Just as he steps into the hallway where the hostesses' private quarters are, he hears it: a gunshot. He freezes, waits, strains his ears--nothing else. Resumes his way to Sophie's room, clutching the gun at the ready--he has another bullet with Sophie's name on it. When he peers into her room, though, he sees that she's done the work for him: Sophie lies on her bed, staring lifelessly at the canopy. In her hand is a gift Hesse gave her, "To protect you, when I'm not here"--a silver pistol with an SS engraved on the grip. The busboy stares down at Sophie for a moment, pursing his lips. He notices something on her other hand and lifts it to get a better look. It's the ring Hesse gave her when he proposed: gold, inset with tiny bits of onyx, ruby, and diamond--black, red, and white--with tiny sig runes on the side. (For the origin of this ring, see HERE and (possibly outdated) HERE.) It's an abomination, yet it really is well crafted; he might be able to sell it to someone to remove the jewels and melt it down. He pries the ring off Sophie's finger and lets her hand drop. He notices the big vanity mirror overlooking the room as he's turning to leave and thinks of one more thing. He digs around in the drawers, finds a lipstick, and reaches up to scrawl a message on the mirror: NAZI-HURE. Nazi whore. Unnamed Busboy surveys his work, tosses away the lipstick. Tucks away the ring but keeps the gun out just in case. He doesn't cast either Sophie or Schulte a second glance on his way out; they're just Nazi garbage, not worth another thought, and his work here is done. [Unnamed Busboy 2023 [Friday, December 29, 2023, 3:00:31 AM]] |