“Hm? Oh Braum, nice fellow if not for his excitement for cards I don’t think people would nearly gather and play as much as they do. Oh yes, he has an icebox and is well stocked with spirits in his Apartment, Mrs. Leitner doesn’t seem to mind. Me? Oh no, I’m not one to drink at all. -Sebastien Percle
It is rare for Braum to be reserved even for a moment, he is always ready for a fun time.
Braum Leitner resides on the Fourth Floor: Room D4.
The Vignettes
The drinking was quite heavy the night before, in fact to remember it seemed but a dream to the spectators. Braum postured himself like a bull pacing back and forth then turned in front of the table slamming his arm down on the surface rattling the chips and spilling the drinks to the floor. “I'm tired of your cheating Philippe, I know just how to take care of you!” The tenants might have been terrified for Philippe Ray if not for the broad grin under Braums mustache. Braum rolled up his sleeve exposing his bulging arm ripped with veins. “We settle this as men, gear pusher against pencil pusher!”
Philippe gave a nervous swallow; however, he was not easily undone as he stepped back and slipped behind one of the Tenants who was watching the spectacle unfold. A quick whisper from his lips into the ear of Bernardo Labroso followed which caused him to spit out his beer in surprise.
Not easily undone Philippe had a bull of his own at the table, a nervous gaze followed in Bernardo’s wavering eyes as the two locked hands. Philippe removed his silk tie and wrapped it around their wrists and held their hands before counting down to a match of arm wrestling. The Spectators to this day wondered how Philippe Ray managed to swindle winnings, have his personal honor put on the line, and gracefully sidestep the situation with roaring laughter among cheers and jeers. The evening came to a close with the two bulls falling through the table, to profound praise. Monsieur Ray was a Lawyer after all.
Braum Leitner stands against a beam in the Lobby, peering suspiciously around at the furniture, at the tenants, at the corners. One of the tenants speaks to another under her breath gossiping. "Sophie has said that Braum has been going crazy looking for one of his deck of cards, it was a rare one of a kind designed by some famous artist, scandalous women, if you ask me Sophie was jealous and conveniently lost them."
It was no doubt an act of desperation that led Braum to approach Andre Alarie. Perhaps the most mysterious and unapproachable man in the entire Apartment. To approach Monsieur Alarie the Undertaker was to approach death. Even his silhouette seemed fittingly shaped like a casket.
He turned to look down on Braum, as he had just finished performing his rituals for the day and stared with his bushy brows, deep narrow set eyes, with a square jaw that could have been chiseled from stone.
Andre did not speak a word; he raised a single brow as if to give Braum permission to speak.
Failing to find words to utter, his eyes shot wide feeling a chill in his body. The fresh soil under Andre's hands proved that no doubt he finished his grim work for the day.
Andre's faint expression turned to the usual frigid void that served him best then turned to move towards his apartment door.
"Please…" Braum blurted out. "I'm looking for something very special and rare of mine that has somehow become misplaced, it's a deck of cards, it had the most lovely women on it you've ever seen, and it's worth a small fortune but to be it is priceless… If you could help me Andre, I'll be forever in your debt… please…!"
Andre slowly turned back to face Braum, and simply nodded his head in acknowledgment of his fellow tenant’s plight.
Andre continued to walk away, and Braum held his body up against the wall feeling a cold chill shoot through his body. Andre's reputation no doubt proceeded him. Other tenants unbeknownst to Braum looked on in complete surprise. The moment he turned his attention back to the rest of the Lobby, life had quickly returned to normal.
"Cards!" Braum Leitner gave out a cry to any tenants that would hear him. It was a Saturday night, and when the evening fell his familiar call would reverberate from the walls to the rafters of the building.
With his favorite deck of cards in hand he would handily shuffle them, making a show of his ability to do so with an expert finesse. He never would lose at a game, such was either his luck, or trickery. However, be that as it may, his reputation for being the premiere card player of not only the apartment but the Arrondissement was well known.
Pulling a chair out with his foot he would call and call until he had a suitable amount of players. One time nobody joined, so he continued to call until curious pedestrians walking down the street heard him from inside the lobby and happily joined him, and unhappily lost.
"Friends!" Braum cried happily as they emerged for a game, emerging from all the different floors of the apartment and shuffled down below to play a game.
The tenants soon sat down as old friends and began to argue in the friendly way about the usual events of the day, as hand after hand was dealt out.
Braum was in such a state of conversation and game he became less aware of who he played, and more aware of the cards, more aware of the game, and less so the people he casually spoke to in a friendly, and uncanny manner.
It wasn't until he realized that he had at last lost, and a pair of hands swept away all of the winnings to the other side of the table. His eyes naturally followed a trail to see a most familiar face.