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infinitelytheheartexpands · 4 years

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For the production ask game - apologies if any of these have been done, I did check though - La bohème, La traviata, and Lucia di Lammermoor!

Don’t worry- none of those are duplicates. :)

La boheme:

Disclaimer: I was actually in a production of this opera about a year ago (and I’d be more than happy to tell you about all my adventures!) and some of my ideas are essentially grafted from that production.

The big one is that I’d move the setting up about fifty years to the 1880s/90s, aka the height of Parisian bohemian culture and the Belle Epoque (I just love Belle Epoque stuff, okay?). And the look of the production would definitely be inspired by the art of that time and place (in the production I was in, we used projections of Toulouse-Lautrec paintings for the backgrounds).

Otherwise, I’d pretty much play it as a production of Boheme normally would go, albeit with a slightly darker edge to it: you might forget it in the romance and the hustle and bustle that dominate the first two acts, but these people are young, they have so much talent and promise, and yet they can barely survive, let alone take care of each other. And that’s why Rodolfo feels compelled to abandon Mimi. (Do I support the way he does it? Absolutely not. But I do understand where he’s coming from. We all royally screw up when we’re young. I’m a teenager. I should know.) This is ultimately a story of wasted lives and wasted promise.

And that’s the short version. (I’m trying to keep these relatively short because otherwise it’d take me probably half an hour each and I don’t really have the time to do that right now).

La traviata:

First: the time period doesn’t matter so much to me, as long as it is 1850s or later because 1) it doesn’t really make a whole lot of sense in a pre-bourgeois/social-climber-with-no-noble-rank-but-a-whole-lot-of-money-ambition-and-moral-hypocrisy environment and 2) Venetian censors (and really, censors in general) are stupid and I’m not letting them have the victory of setting it during the reign of Louis XV or whatever they came up with (although I am okay with Rigoletto in Mantua, but as I said in my answer to Rigoletto, the setting does not matter a whole lot).

So I just answered someone else’s question about Rusalka and I think Traviata would work well played in much the same way as Rusalka; that is, play it through Violetta’s perspective and find the flaws behind the ostensibly beautiful worlds the opera depicts. (Side note: for the love of God, no “this opera is Violetta’s dying flashback”. That’s incredibly overused in this opera and also just...no.)

The two party scenes: glitz and glamor galore, but the second set should be much tighter and more closed-in than the first, although (even though they’re in different people’s houses) they should look nearly identical otherwise. The first set should also let in some natural light and beauty (think of the fresh flowers, the camellias that naturally wilt!) but the second set should be completely artificial. Also there should be a huge gaming wheel at the center of the second party set because I’m ridiculously fond of the “Fortune as represented by a wheel” trope, which works in that scene on multiple levels.

The other two scenes should feel much more natural: the country house scene is the only one that is truly relaxed, natural, and beautiful (I think it’d be good to start it off outside), but it should move inside when Giorgio shows up and pretty much forces Violetta to conform to this societal vision of her as a discarded “fallen woman”- she’s back to being forced into a box in which she neither fits nor wants to fit.

Act III: I’m normally not a fan of staging orchestral passages not designed to be staged, but done right, it is extremely effective, so I’d start the act with a mini-scene during the prelude where everyone Violetta knows (except good old Annina) both literally and figuratively turn their backs on her as she falls into ruin. The set is...desolate and dark, to say the least (huge windows covered in drapes! huge windows covered in drapes! that is a thing I want to see! I want to see Violetta’s bedroom look like a shadow of what it once was!). It starts at night, Alfredo and Giorgio come back at sunrise, the set is almost flooded with light when Violetta feels like she’s recovering (as if a bunch of sunbeams opportunely pass through the windows) and it goes completely dark when she dies.

In short: lots of social commentary about women in men’s society, please don’t cut any of the music, and that’s that. (And see, I just spent about half an hour on that.)

Lucia di Lammermoor:

First things first: keep it on the Scottish moors, but move it to some point in the first half of the 19th century because this is the quintessential Gothic story (okay, Northanger Abbey and Wuthering Heights are serious competition).

As a result, there should be a huge Gothic aesthetic. Brooding guys dressed all in black with capes blowing in the wind? Perpetually dark, cloudy skies and endless open spaces? Everything looks old and rundown (like the noble families in their last generations)? GIVE ME ALL OF IT.

I love Lucia and she deserves better, but in the opera, no one understands her in the slightest so even when she’s with other characters, she should always be a little distant, both physically and emotionally. She should always be alone, in a way.

Going back to the “everything is old and rundown” thing, the Ashtons and Ravenswoods are trying to bring their families back to life, so I’d think it’d be cool to have people perpetually trying to restore the two houses in the background during the first couple of acts but (of course) ultimately failing.

(Completely unrelated, but the single greatest operatic fail of all time is the fact that the opera doesn’t end with Lucia going mad and dying. However, because we have to resolve the whole “family feud” thing, grumble grumble, still keep the final scene, but have Lucia come back as a ghost or something.)

Mad scene: BLOOD. BLOOD EVERYWHERE. You know the Madrid production where Lisette Oropesa is covered head to toe in blood? Yes. I want that. Also if there’s not a glass armonica I’m walking out because the flute is very nice and all, but dammit, the glass armonica just perfectly captures the mood and is also what Donizetti wanted so screw the flute thing.

Also, everything should look distorted and downright bizarre because it’s the greatest mad scene in the history of opera. And I want there to be little glowing lights as if there’s suspended glass reflecting so many light and colors because a) it matches the glass armonica aesthetic and b) it just fits the scene perfectly and I can see it in my head and it looks awesome.

(This is why I’m so upset that I suck at visual art because I can see stuff in my head but I can’t express what it looks like in the real world.)

That’s all! I hope you like these!

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theterribleblueglove · 5 years

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Paul is Dead and Loving It

I just posted this to TV Tropes, and I’m copy-pasting it here. I had entirely too much fun with this “theory.”

Paul McCartney did die in a car crash in 1966, but he was not replaced. He returned shortly after his death, as a vampire.

The clues sprinkled throughout the albums were not trying to tell fans that Paul was dead and gone; but that Paul was dead...and still an active member of the band.

The subtle differences in Paul's appearance after the crash can be explained by his vampiric transformation. Also, note that Paul was the "pretty" Beatle, and had some influence over women, a la Dracula or Edward Cullen. While it's true he had these traits before his death, they increased afterwards, hence his portrayal in "Yellow Submarine."

His later "aging" has two possible explanations:

He is literally a vegetarian vampire, taking care not to kill any living being he sucks blood from. Because he isn't drinking quite as much blood as a vampire ought, and also spends far more time in the sun than his undead doctors recommend (note that the sun does not actually kill vampires in the original lore, but only weakens them) has taken a toll on Paul, causing him to appear to be "aging" like a living person.

He uses vampiric magic to make himself appear to have aged, but really looks the same way he did in 1966.

Now, for the clues.

Naturally, after his death, Paul feared his mates wouldn't want anything more to do with him; after all, how could an undead blood-sucking monster ever be welcome among the icons of peace, love and sunshine? But the other Beatles would not stop supporting their friend just because of his new condition. And they sprinkled this message throughout their albums...

Firstly, the clues in the album covers:

While it's true that there may be small background images depicting Paul apart from the rest of the group, the central images all show the "dead" Paul enclosed by the others, signifying that he is very much still part of the group.In "Abbey Road," the "funeral" procession has the "corpse" walking along with all the "living" members, rather than being carried by them. He's also holding a cigarette. The completely-dead generally don't continue activities like smoking, but an un-dead person could. He's holding it in the "wrong" hand for the same reason he is out of step with the others; he's still living live like they are, but from the "other side" so to speak.

In "Abbey Road," the "funeral" procession has the "corpse" walking along with all the "living" members, rather than being carried by them. He's also holding a cigarette. The completely-dead generally don't continue activities like smoking, but an un-dead person could. He's holding it in the "wrong" hand for the same reason he is out of step with the others; he's still living live like they are, but from the "other side" so to speak.

The line of cars that runs "through" Paul's head does signify the crash that killed him...and how he walked away from death relatively fine.

The background image of one man standing on the opposite side of the road from three others signifies that yes, Paul and his mates are on "opposite sides" of the road between life and death. But the main four are all crossing that road together. Interestingly, they're all walking towards the side where the "dead" figure is standing on. One might argue that this is part of the "funeral procession," that the band is just walking their friend "home" just to drop him off in his grave; but if that were the case, should't Paul be in front? Answer: it's not a "funeral" at all. It's just Paul's mates sticking by him, even when he has to make some unpleasant stops at Purgatory or the graveyard.

On the "Yesterday and Today" cover, Paul's in a "coffin," but the other boys aren't posed as if they're saying goodbye to him. They're surrounding him, in casual stationary poses, as if they have no intention of going anywhere. The fact that the "coffin's" door is wide opened represents Paul is still interacting with the living.

"Sergent Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" is packed with death imagery on its cover, but once again, the main four are shown with Paul enclosed by the others. He's wearing an icy blue band uniform, while the others are in "warm" colors, to signify his icy new body temperature; but he is still a part of the band.

The hidden word "Lies" refers to Paul having to lie about his nature, as it would be very dangerous for him if the public knew he was a vampire. (Bear in mind that this was in the 1960s, back when vampires were still "bad guys" in mainstream literature and movies.)

...So, whether he's having a kip in his coffin, strolling barefoot across a scorching blacktop that doesn't affect him, or just being his icy-blue room temperature on a hot summer's day, he is still an active and loved member of the group.

Now for the backmasking...

In "I'm So Tired" played backwards, Lennon is saying "Paul's a dead man." But the next line is not "Miss him, miss him." It's actually "It's him! It's him." As in, Paul's dead, but it's still him. It's not an impostor. And you're not a monster, Paul. We don't care that you now sprout pointy teeth at night; you're still our Paul.

"Turn me on, Dead Man" sounds like a Beatle addressing a friend at a party, just asking casually for a light.

"I buried Paul" is the only one that throws a wrench in this whole theory, as vampires generally aren't buried after climbing into their coffins. But when have the Beatles ever done what was normal? It would be just like John, George and Ringo to bury their vampiric mate's coffin during one of his kips, either as a prank, or because they were extremely high and just thought it was the proper thing to do at the time.

The girl in the blue dress

Legend has it that during his fatal accident, Paul was accompanied by a fangirl in a blue dress. After the crash, she ran from the car, either to get help, or just to avoid getting in trouble.

The truth?

She is the vampire that turned Paul.

#paul is a vampire #paul is dead #paul mccartney #beatles #ringo starr #john lennon #george harrison #clues #vampire #undead #it's a joke #but can someone write this fanfic please?#sergeant pepper's lonely hearts club band #yellow submarine #coffin #prank #hoax #paul is a dead man

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beautifulpaxielreads · 5 years

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Title: Lovely war

Author: Julie Berry

Number of pages: 468

Publisher’s blurb (from back cover): A sweeping, multilayered romance set in the perilous days of World Wars I and II, where gods hold the fates – and the hearts – of four mortals in their hands.

They are Hazel, James, Aubrey, and Colette. A classical pianist from London, a British would-be architect turned soldier, a Harlem-born ragtime genius in the US Army, and a Belgian orphan with a gorgeous voice and a devastating past. Their story, as told by goddess Aphrodite, who must spin the tale or face judgement on Mount Olympus, is filled with hope and heartbreak, prejudice and passion, and reveals that, though War is a formidable force, it’s no match for the transcendent power of Love.

Author Julie Berry’s critically acclaimed writing has been called “haunting and unforgettable” by New York Times bestselling author of Salt to the Sea Ruta Sepetys, and “utterly original and instantly engrossing” by Publishers Weekly.

My review

War is not lovely. It is messy, destructive, senseless, heartbreaking, fury-inducing.

So why the title? It actually comes from a song popular at the time of the First World War.

Before I go any further, I must offer this warning. There is very, very heavy racism and violence perpetuated against African-American characters. Do not take this lightly. Julie Berry pulls no punches in her depictions of how black men and women were discriminated against by whites, particularly Southerners. There is violence, both actual and implied. A black character is killed in a particularly violent manner. We never see the event taking place, only its aftermath. There are slurs used against African-Americans, which I won’t go into but which you can probably guess at. Segregation is utilised in army camps, and black men are warned not to mix with white women. Berry makes clear that this violence and racism is deeply, deeply wrong, and indeed, several white characters call others out on their racism.

Following the German invasion, there is a massacre perpetuated against the people in the Belgian town of Dinant, by the Germans as revenge for the losses of German soldiers. One of the main characters is orphaned by the massacre while she hides in an abbey. Horrifyingly, this massacre is not fictional. It actually happened – close to seven hundred people were murdered. This event, as well as others like it, were part of what came to be known as “The Rape of Belgium”.

The horrors of war are also depicted realistically. Characters – and not just minor ones – suffer both physical and mental injuries as a consequence of battles and random attacks. One character is the subject of an attempted rape by a German prisoner of war but is rescued before the attacker can go too far.

I know this all sounds like a lot to deal with, and I hope I haven’t put you off! I will say that, in spite of this heavy content, Julie Berry’s writing treats it with great delicacy and sensitivity.

Did I mention the writing yet? Because it is just stunning. It is romantic, humorous, atmospheric, moving, and yet, as I said earlier, pulls no punches when it comes to difficult topics.

I loved the four main characters – the quietness and sensitivity of James, the pure goodness and boldness of Hazel, the brilliance and cheekiness of Aubrey, and the sophisticated, emotional Colette. The Greek gods were a joy to behold - once I got past the slight oddness of them talking like 1940s people. I loved their meddling as they try to nudge the hapless mortals into making the right decisions, and their despair as it seems everything is going wrong. The one character I didn’t particularly care for was Ares – I thought he was a bit of a jerk, but I think that’s how Berry wrote him.

The entire novel is rich in period detail and atmosphere – it’s clear Berry did her homework on this one. As someone who is a great lover of music, I really appreciated those aspects of the book – In fact, soon after I finished reading it, I created a playlist of the songs and musical pieces mentioned! I also appreciated how real-life figures from history are integrated into the stories of the fictional characters, particularly the members of the 369th Infantry Regiment, which later became known as the Harlem Hellfighters. People who were part of the beginnings of jazz music in the US – people like James Reese Europe. Noble Sissle. Eubie Blake. These names may be familiar to African-American audiences, but for everyone else, Google them.

The historical notes that Berry provides at the end of the book are very much worth reading, and I also appreciated the bibliography of books and other media used in her research – I’ll definitely check some of them out.

In conclusion, Lovely War is a work of great power. It isn’t just about the horror and futility of war – it’s also about the necessity of love in such times. It gave me a real insight into the events and people of the early twentieth century, most of which I had no previous knowledge of. If you think you can handle the sensitive subject matter, you will be richly rewarded.

I know I was.

I rate Lovely War four enthusiastic stars out of five.

#beautifulpaxiel reads #book reviews #my book reviews #hope you like it!#julie berry

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drunklander · 6 years

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Time has often acted as Claire (Caitriona Balfe) and Jamie's (Sam Heughan) primary antagonist on Outlander, but the time travel drama has also had some truly reprehensible flesh-and-bone villains. In Seasons 1 and 2, the role went to "Black Jack" Randall (Tobias Menzies). In Season 4, that narrative honor goes to Stephen Bonnet (Ed Speleers), an Irish pirate who will do seemingly anything for personal gain.

We first meet Bonnet in the Outlander Season 4 premiere, when Claire and Jamie help him escape the hangman's noose only to fall victim to Bonnet and his men's murderous robbery at the end of the episode, but Bonnet is around to stay. Den of Geek had the chance to chat with Ed Speleers, who plays Bonnet, about joining the show and bringing the character to life.

"I’ve not had the chance to do an out-and-out villain, so I think that was a huge draw for me," Speleers, who is best known stateside for his work as James Kent in Downton Abbey and as the title character in Eragon. The actor said that, while it is often more fun to play a villain, what truly matters is good writing.

"It’s not as simple as he’s just a bad guy," said Speleers of Bonnet. "I think there’s something very interesting about what makes people tick, but also what makes people, perhaps, go down a path of destruction and whether there’s something in it from nurture vs. nature. There are so many reasons as to why someone can end up a certain way. And I think that interested me: the circumstance of what led Stephen Bonnet to be the way he is."

Co-stars Sophie Skelton (Brianna) and Richard Rankin (Roger) echo Speleers description of a more complex villain.

"I think he's a very fresh villain in terms of he is so different to Black Jack," said Skelton. "Black Jack, we never really saw an insight into why he was the way he was. He was just sort of evil through and through, whereas, with Stephen Bonnet, he is a seemingly charming man who actually has this exceedingly dark side to him and I think it makes for a far more complex villain."

"It's a fresh take on the character playing the bad guy," said Rankin. "He is quite charming because he is quite disarming. It's very interesting how the character is written and also how Ed plays the character as well. He obviously affects each of the characters' storylines quite severely, but, yeah, he's just a good villain really. He's a psychopath. He's a really charming psychopath."

Speleers knew of Outlander before taking on the role—"It’s very difficult, you may find this yourself, to keep up with all of the shows that are out there. I literally can’t keep up."—but had not watched the American-British co-production before going for the part.

"The main following comes from the States. It’s definitely known here, and I was aware of it, but it wasn’t until I took on the role that I sort of looked further," said Speleers. "It’s only when I am going up for something for that show that I try to watch as much of it as I can."

When Speleers did check out Seasons 1-3, the series was not what he expected. He cited the quality in both production value and writing. Speleers also delved into the Diana Gabaldon-written source material to find out more about his character. "There’s a lot of [Bonnet] character description that you get in the book, especially early on," said Speleers, calling the translation of Bonnet from the page to screen faithful.

"I think it’s a fairly accurate adaptation from the book to telly," said Speleers. "I think maybe because the character in the book, he’s a character that pops up. He’s not necessarily ever-present in the books, nor is he in the scripts for the TV show, so that allows more accuracy from the books."

While Speleers said the adaptation is a direct one, he noted the value of experimentation as an actor when bringing a character to life—it is a story-crafting feature that sets television or film apart from book as mediums.

"As an actor, you allow yourself to play and pinpoint some extra bits that may or may not be there," said Speleers. "You can play around with it. It’s about making your own mark, as well. You see what will work on the day. Sometimes, things work in a novel, it works when you read it, but it doesn’t work in a script. That’s the beauty of film."

In addition to reading about Bonnet in the books, Speleers did a fair amount of research into Irish history. For Speleers, the research was unsettling, as he focused on the history of British rule in Ireland in particular.

"I think that was what I found so fascinating about watching [Seasons] 1 and 2 and 3 before taking on this role, was what was going on in Scotland during this period that I didn’t know anything about," said Speleers, referencing the cycles of imperialism and impression that come up again and again in history and in Outlander's representation of it. "It's quite depressing and actually horrifying, what this nation is actually founded on," noted Speleers.

We see the exploration of imperialist brutality come up again in Claire's season premiere conversation with Jamie about the fate of America's indigenous people. "A dream for some can be a nightmare for others," notes Jamie, remembering how his own people were treated by British rule. For Speleers, and many viewers, Outlander's depiction of these cycles of oppression are not irrelevant to today's world or political climate.

"We’re talking about how the world is operating," said Speleers, noting the increasingly extreme, nationalist trends that are appearing in both the United States and Europe. "It’s a comment on America. It’s obviously still a huge issue in the United States, racism, but it’s founded by something that happened with the British years ago and that has happened time and time again."

For Speleers, the questions these histories bring up are far from answered.

"How do we look back and justify it to ourselves?" said Speleers. "Hopefully, we’ll all somehow get it together and we’ll stop this cycle."

In the mean time, Speleers is just living his life like the rest of us, and caring about the stories he helps to put out into the world.

"I’m very lucky to do this job and hopefully I will keep doing more work and get the chance to do more and more interesting roles each time," said Speleers, admitting that he is nervous for fans of the books and the series to see his interpretation of Stephen Bonnet.

"I gave it my all. I hope it’s well received. But I have no control over that. I am nervous. I am. I think, if you care about your work, you’re going to inherently care about what people think. Even if you shouldn’t."

#*#outlander starz #outlander press #season press #sophie skelton #rik rankin #ed speleers

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juniorformulamotorsport · 5 years

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Wednesday, 25th September 2019 – Sankt Peter, Breisach, Ihringen

A late breakfast in the Hotel Schlossmühle was very good, though they did try to insist we should have an egg each, and then I had a suggestion or two that met with Lynne’s approval for what we should do with the day. First I wanted to go to Sankt Peter, having been once as a child, probably when I was around 7 or 8 years old. We holidayed as a family along with my godfather Colin, his wife Margaret, and their three children in a campsite in the Black Forest village of Kirchzarten a couple of times, and I can recall this very shiny, gold encrusted place that we went to look at. I wanted to go back and see if I remembered it aright 50 plus years later. I have numerous memories of the place, including learning to swim in the massive open air pool on the site, breaking out in a rash if I got too much sun, and burning my fingertips badly on a camping gas lamp, but the church was the thing that really stuck in my mind. It felt odd to be back somewhere I’d not been for half a century. We set off along the absurdly winding road to Sankt Peter.

On arriving we found a parking space easily and then walked up towards the church, stopping off at the Tourist Information office just in case there was any information we needed ahead of going inside. There are suggestions that there was a church on the site at least as early as 1093, probably some sort of Romanesque basilica. Whatever it looked like, it burned down in a major fire in the 15th Century. The replacement was a Gothic building which was repeatedly restored as a result of various wars, so that by the 17th Century what they had was a church with a Gothic façade and Baroque interior. Eventually, under the rule of Abbot Ulrich Bürgi, a new church was planned and built by the architect Peter Thumb from Vorarlberg between 1724 and 1727.

The new church had a Baroque façade and furnishing, which could stand comparison with the churches of St. Blasien and of Ebersmunster. It’s impressive from the outside, but that is as nothing to the inside which is magnificently over the top, with an incredibly impressive high altar, among other things.

There are side altars decorated with stuccoes, gold-adorned statues of the Dukes of Zähringen, who founded St. Peter’s Abbey, and a variety of other fripperies carved by Josef Anton Feuchtmayer, whose reputation was made in the south of Germany and Austria. It’s one of those places that has so much gold in in that you could be dazzled on a really bright day. This was clearly not a church that was short of money, at least when they carried out the build anyway. Everything that could be gilded, was gilded.

The monastery is the only building in the region that was newly built in the Baroque period and is pretty much unchanged since then. You can also, if you go on the right day, visit the rest of the Abbey complex including the library, which is pretty much more of the same, but on an even bigger scale. We didn’t arrive on the right day, so you’ll have to make do with the official photo of it. Isn’t it amazing? If you do decide to visit and you want the full tour, these are on Tuesdays (11:00), Thursdays (15:00), Sundays and public holidays (11:30).

Oh and it that doesn’t whet your appetite, there’s also the Festsaal… Again, not my photo sadly.

We headed back out of town, driving back much the way we’d come, and heading for the Kaiserstuhl, the premier wine growing region in Baden. It centres around a range of volcanic hills on the eastern banks of the Rhine and is known for producing some of Germany’s finest red wines, notably from Pinot Noir (Spätburgunder), Pinot Gris (Grauburgunder) and Pinot Blanc (Weissburgunder). With a climate that is borderline Mediterranean, it’s one of the warmest places in Germany and the wines reflect that. The name Kaiserstuhl means “Emperor’s seat” and is reputed to date from 994, when King Otto III of Germany held court in a nearby village. We were aiming initially for Breisach, a reasonably sized town, formerly known as Altbreisach, and is right slap bang on the Rhine, midway between Freiburg and Colmar. It’s directly opposite the town of Neuf-Brisach, in Alsace.

The Celtic origins of the town’s name come from the word for breakwater, which is appropriate because the hill on which Breisach is built used to be an island in the middle of the river whenever the levels rose high enough. This one stopped in the 19th Century when the engineer Johann Gottfried Tulla straightened the river out.

It was obviously a site that was good for settlement though, because the Romans took it over from the Celts, and built an auxiliary castle there. By the 13th Century, building of the cathedral had started, and by the early 16th Century Breisach was a significant stronghold of the Holy Roman Empire. On December 7, 1638, Bernhard of Saxe-Weimar, who was funded by the French, conquered the city and tried to make it the centre of a new territory. After his death in 1639, his general gave the territory to France, and 9 years later the Peace of Westphalia confirmed the town as French.

However, less than half a century later under the Treaty of Ryswick (1697) returned the town to the Holy Roman Empire, but it was reconquered in 1703 by Marshal Tallard at the beginning of the War of the Spanish Succession. 11 years after that in the Treaty of Rastatt on March 7, 1714, Breisach was again returned to the Holy Roman Empire. Meanwhile, the French founded Neuf-Brisach (New Breisach), over the river. As if that wasn’t enough, by 1790 Breisach was part of Austria, though not for long. In the revolutionary wars of 1793 the town was heavily damaged and then, in 1805, it was annexed to the re-established state of Baden.

Breisach was the frontier station on the Freiburg–Colmar international railway line, but the railway bridge across the Rhine was destroyed by the Allies during the Second World War, along with 85% of the town, and the cathedral was also heavily damaged. You would not know it to just look at the town now. Mind you, given its history, it is no surprise that after the end of WWII the citizens voted by a massive margin (85% in favour) to be a “European city”. This is not, according to the mayor, “an empty phrase: The confession is still valid; the spirit of this European city determines the life of citizens in the border town of Breisach”. It’s an interesting city in many respects and I must admit, as it is celebrating its 1650th anniversary during 2019, I was slightly surprised as to how free of tourists it seemed to be!

Having found a useful free car park just on the edge of town, we walked in, noting that there were lots of plaques pointing out sights of interest, even though many of the buildings have obviously been reconstructed in the post war period. We found an attractive looking café, the Elsässer Hof, close to what appeared to be a city gate, and parked ourselves for a coffee before the lunch rush started (and start it did; there’s a lot of renewal of the surrounding streets going on and the workmen knocked off promptly at 12 and fetched up at the terrace tables ready to eat). The street we were sitting on had a nice water feature to one side, and water running along a decorative channel as well and the whole place had an air of being cared for by those who had the means to look after it, a contrast to the neglect being inflicted on a lot of English towns I could name.

It’s a bit of a route march up to the cathedral but we decided we should do it, and after coffee we set off through the gate and up the hill, the cathedral looming above us as we climbed.

The Stephansmünster is a Romanesque-Gothic church dating from the 12th Century with expansion and remodelling in the Gothic style taking place in the 15th Century. The exterior was heavily damaged in the Second World War, but inside there are three important works by some of the greatest artists of their time. They are the monumental murals of “The Last Judgment” by Martin Schongauer (1488-1491), a reliquary containing the bones of the city patrons St. Gervasius and St. Protasius from 1496, and – the most gorgeously detailed filigree sandstone rood screen and high altar by the Master HL from 1523-1526.

The building dominates the higher section of the old town, and after we’d walked around the outside, looking both at the views from this commanding point, and for a way in, we managed to locate the entrance and step into a building empty of people. Given what we found inside, it should be packed with visitors, and should probably be taking large amounts of money off said visitors. There’s a notice forbidding photography, a short leaflet, and some postcards on sale, and that’s it!

The first thing that catches the eye is not the massive murals, but rather the spectacular high altar by the Master HL, about whom not much is known. He may of may not be Hans Loi or Loy, though even that is in question. Whoever he really was, he signed his works HL and was active all over the area in the early 1500s. The stonework is gloriously elaborate, and shows the coronation of Mary in an extraordinarily vivid depiction. God the Father and Christ hold a decorated crown high over Mary’s head while the Holy Spirit in the form of a dove hovers above the whole. The church’s patron saint, Stephen, is shown on the left wing alongside Saint Lawrence, while the right wing is dedicated to the city’s patron saints Protasius and Gervasius.

The Last Judgment murals by Martin Schongauer are also stunning but take more effort to discover, because they are very faded. The artist worked from 1488 until his death in 1491 on this masterpiece of mural painting. It’s been the victim of a lot of things including a somewhat botched restoration in 1931, but it still impressed with its detail. On the west wall Christ is enthroned as the judge of the world, seated ona rainbow with banners pointing to the verdict. On the north wall is a depiction of hell, where a sea of flames symbolises the torments of the damned. In contrast on the south side is a depiction of the Blessed Elders entering paradise, a large tablet describing the heavenly joys.

The third major treasure is the silver reliquary containing the remains (possibly) of the two city patrons, St. Gervasius and St. Protasius, completed in 1496 by Strasbourg goldsmith Peter Berlin. It is decorated with saints and scenes from legends, including a reproduction of the transfer of the bones of the city patrons to St. Stefansmünster.

For a while we just sat and stared at the altar, before deciding we really needed to get some lunch. Just over the square in front of the Ratshaus we found a hotel, the Hotel Stadt Breisgau, with a restaurant, Augustins, that promised a terrace with a view. It was too cold to sit outside but we managed a well-placed table inside where we could enjoy the spectacular views across the Rhine towards the Vosges mountains.

In addition to a great view, they also produced a delicious pumpkin soup, which was just the thing on a day that was cooler than what we’d been used to on the trip.

When we eventually went back outside the weather was becoming blustery and threatening more rain. It held off a little longer as we investigated further, learning about the history of the upper part of town, including finding another of the town towers and gates. This is the Radbrunnenturm, which includes a 41 meter deep well, built during the time of Bertold V. von Zähringen in 1189. The tower was once also the town hall and court, with its own torture chamber just as in Riquewihr. These days it’s an exhibition and concert hall.

We didn’t manage to find the Blue House, the oldest house in Breisach, but we did read about the history of the Jews in Breisach. In the 14th Century they lived on the Münsterberg as wealthy merchants, but when plague broke out, they were scapegoated and murdered in 1349. Jews returned to the Münsterberg from about 1375 to 1425, but they were expelled, and only allowed back in 1640 when the French took over, as they supplied the French army in their roles as livestock and grain traders. By 1850t the community made up 17% of the population of the town. Once they were granted legal equality in Baden in 1862, many Jewish families moved away and settled in the larger cities, and the population in Breisach was reduced to around 250 people by 1933. The community had a synagogue, a ritual women’s bath, two cemeteries (Synagogue Square and Isenberg) and the parish hall, today’s Blue House. When the Nazis organized the murder of European Jews in early 1942, the Jews from Breisach, who had been imprisoned in France were deported to Auschwitz-Birkenau with the help of the French, where at least 50 of the Breisach Jews were murdered. The Blue House is intended as a memorial to all of them so I’m sorry we didn’t locate it, despite tracking down as many of the information plaques scattered around the town as we could.

Unexpectedly, we did find the Festspiele Breisach Open Air Theatre, though the season was well and truly over (we’d missed productions of “The Jungle Book” and “Charley’s Aunt”) and we had to settle for looking at the auditorium and empty stage.

We also found a new, rather lovely garden, a recreation of the Franciscan Monastery’s physic garden. It was a charming space, with seating and with fabulous views down over the surrounding countryside. It was a place to linger and enjoy the flowers, the bees and the rest of the world rushing by while you relax. It’s also the scene of concerts during the summer.

And then we decided it was probably time to start heading back, if we wanted to stop off in Ihringen to buy some wine. The history of Ihringen is closely connected to its wines, and they are very good wines. They should be. They’ve been growing wine here since at least 962, with documented evidence that the town was very much a wine growing community. It was also an important strategic point thanks to its proximity with the French border, so it was frequently dragged into the various armed conflicts that plagued the region. We didn’t get time to look around, because we spent ages trying to find a parking space, and then an open wine cellar prepared to sell us anything, largely because the harvest was in full swing and most capable people were out in the vineyards picking this year’s crop.

We did find the Weingut Ingrosso open though, largely because they were just emptying their lorry into the vats in the yard. The orignal company, H. Pflüger & Co was founded in 1790 by Josef Hebting, based in Freiburg, and was taken over in 1987 by Ingelore and Angelo Ingrosso (he came from Italy as a guest worker, and stayed to marry Ingelore). She died two year’s ago, and her daughter and son-in-law now run the place, because Angelo is ill with Alzheimers and can no longer work. In his youth, though, Angelo brought in the equipment to start producing what is regarded as their speciality wine, which is made in ancient Roman clay amphorae, the Merdinger Bühl Vino di Angelo Rotwein Halbtrocken. We bought a dozen red wines from them, including some 2013 examples of the wine that had been matured in the amphorae, which you can see in the background in the previous photo. Satisfied with that, we headed back across country to Glottertal and the hotel after a very interesting and busy day.

Travel 2019 – Alsace and Baden, Day 13, Sankt Peter, Breisach, Ihringen Wednesday, 25th September 2019 – Sankt Peter, Breisach, Ihringen A late breakfast in the Hotel Schlossmühle…

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beautifulramblingbrains · 7 years

Text

Crush - Chapter 3. Condemned.

Pairing: Eric/OC *Abbey* Fandom: Divergent Rating: M

A memory from Eric’s past plays tricks on him. And it’s all about the girl, Abbey Ainsworth.

A/N: Here is the third! Thank you for reading - again - in some cases ;)

Tags: @iammarylastar @badassbaker @pathybo @mimigemrose @frecklefaceb @beltz2016 @ariwolff14 @kenzieam @tigpooh67 Remind me if you want on the list.

Nothing else brought him as much joy as the demure looks from the Amity folk. The trying to appear chaste and welcoming, when in fact he knew that they were counting down the seconds till he would lift his foot from the Amity turf.

"Good morning to you."

"Good day."

"What great weather we have…"

Rehearsed, fake, pathetically-annoying, and unneeded. Did they actually think he would acknowledge them? Had they really been on the Peace Serum for far too long to realize what hostility was?

Hostility was him practically snarling in their face and staring them down. But at this rate, he was just going to have to tell them to fuck themselves as they seemingly weren't getting the hint.

At least the animals knew. The dogs would scamper and the cats would hiss or jump a tree. He couldn't help but have the sneaking suspicion that the animals were far smarter than the people here, and maybe they ran Amity covertly.

But then again, maybe he was being a bit hasty to label these guys.

Abbey was here after all, and as much as he'd seen to date, she was perfectly clued on. She would have been a fine article at Dauntless. She would perhaps have made it far – or maybe that was wishful thinking on his part because he liked the girl.

His inner asshole echoes out to him that she wouldn't have lasted five minutes – the woman in question was a florist for fuck sake.

Eric finally comes to a stop outside the dark oak open doors of Johanna's barn, waiting somewhat patiently. This time he'd decided he wasn't going in. He couldn't stomach another trip up to the fly-haven loft so instead deciphers to wait it out, perchance on the surroundings in the quiet five minutes.

He squints to the furthest figures in the fields in the distance. Two women, laughing, hair flowing freely. For a minute he thinks he can hear them, but it's just his imagination because although it's a hot and bothersome day, the wind is raucous against his ears.

"Makes a change from Dauntless, doesn't it?"

Johanna appears from behind him. Eric already knew she was there, just preferred to register her as disinteresting.

Johanna roams over his sharp outlook, the bowed eyebrows, and creased forehead. She would almost say he looks confused, lost even. Perhaps, in a way, she liked to think he uncooperatively liked the laid-back few days he was given – he would never admit to that though.

"We are opposite ends of the spectrum, Johanna. We have our jobs. Dauntless offers protection - promoting violence. Amity farms and radiates peace and tranquillity… Both our factions are alien to each other. Change wouldn't be the term I would use."

"What term would you use then, Eric?" He can feel Johanna gaze over her shoulder at him and he finally relents, giving her a flashing cold look, almost rolling his eyes.

"For you Johanna, I'll simplify it by saying: polarity." However, she just chuckles under her breath. "Originally I was going for antithesis. But by the looks of you, you've never touched a book in your life. Mud and insects seem to be your sort of thing."

"You could win awards for your cunning. Have you ever thought about entering Erudite's spelling contest?"

"Don't mock me, woman." Even though the appearance of him is threatening, his tone is not. However, Johanna doesn't say anything, just pushes her view back out to the woman and takes a similar stance to him, letting the silence wash over them. Eventually, Eric sighs, having grown bored with the company and the serene picture in front of him and covers his chest with his arms. "So, are you going to tell me the truth about the factionless reports or are we going to fuck in a minute with our new found bond?"

Johanna purses her lips in distaste and frowns at him which he gleefully smirks to, and she swears the smile this time reaches his eyes as he got the reaction he was looking for. "As you know I can't have disruption among Amity, or panic, that's why I didn't want anything said in front of the men. Word gets around here quickly."

"Funnily enough, I've gathered that."

She ignores his sarcasm and continues anyway. "But there have been a few disturbances if that's what you want to call them these days…"

"Like what… define, please. I'm in no mood for guessing games."

"Break-ins, a few assaults further towards the city and away from Amity. We've had a few livestock taken…"

Eric keeps his poise and seems to lack any emotion on his face as she talks. His two piercings glint from time to time from the concentrated sun capturing her eye. "Your livestock is irretrievable and possibly non-existent, so don't have any hope Daisy the cow will be coming home anytime soon. As for the break-ins, you'll have to take me to the sites and we'll up the watches. But as you know, Amity is pretty wide-spread for cameras and to be fair I don't want my men watching the grass grow."

"I figured as much. The extra watches will have to do. But I want to keep this between us. No one else from Amity is to know. Not even Mark knows."

Eric scoffs hearing his name. "Oh yes, I forgot about your little bitch."

"Mark is a good man. I've never had any problems with him." Her bracelet rattles as she readjusts the long gaping sleeves on her orange and yellow dress.

"Whatever, Johanna. I don't care for him..." But he did care for Abbey. His eyes flick to the floor having slightly hesitated to end the sentence and he has no doubt she's caught the slight betrayal his over-charged body seems to be depicting. For some reason, he feels wholly embarrassed having outed a slight suspicion to the fact he did actually care about someone other than himself and especially to the likes of Johanna.

Johanna keeps her eye-line dead center and the top of her lip ever so slightly curls upwards. "Abbey… Abbey Ainsworth."

"What?" Eric snaps his head over to her, his composure completely spoilt. But he keeps the deadly look in his eye, distrusting of the woman before him.

"I know of your history together. Is that why you are here?"

"How the fuck do you know?"

This strangely gets underneath her skin. An insult to someone as patient and attentive as her. "I'm the spokesperson for Amity. I like the chance to get to know my people, unlike Dauntless." She keeps his eye and doesn't weaken, proving silently that she meant her words.

"You know nothing."

"I know that Abbey was riddled with guilt when she arrived, telling me about her best friend, a name of a boy I had no idea would become a future leader for the warrior faction. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together."

Eric takes a long moment, appearing to roam over her conclusion, fighting internally as to whether or not to say anymore. "Who is she marrying?" He gyrates on his heel a little, clearly uncomfortable with this conversation.

"A very nice young man." Johanna can feel herself softening, because as she said those words, Eric looked anything other than defeated - albeit it was for a split second.

She didn't fool herself, Eric was powerful and could easily handle his own. He was headstrong, determined, but also very much human like the rest of them - and that meant the unfavorable human emotions that came along with it. She was unsure how a man like him would cope with that. But if she believed in anything, it was love, and from Abbey's recent interest in the Dauntless movements and the lack of work she had been doing. Johanna needed to know, needed to help - to stop a possible future mistake. "Go and speak with her. I'm guessing you have already marred the database of Amity, so you know where to find her."

Eric stares straight ahead for a long moment and Johanna steps away from him, heading back towards the shadows of the barn. "I know where to find her. I'm just unsure of what else I may find…"

Johanna laughs, turning a little to peer over her shoulder at the tall, muscular man still frozen just outside the doorway. "… Perhaps reconciliation."

Eric did not want to do this. Didn't want to be anywhere near the nauseating spawn of the devil - flowers. Even worse… an entire shop of the stuff.

The door chimes as he strolls in. He knew of the Amity flower workshop from all the work they did with the other factions; the displays outside Erudite and similar checkpoints between Candor. There were also presentations at Authoritative gatherings and then there were personal exceptions. But it doesn't mean he's ever set foot inside of Amity's natural germination haven and thought he'd never have to – until now.

The women in here basically freeze when they see him, and he's sure he even sees one run out the back in fright.

Eric smiles.

"Afternoon ladies."

"Good afternoon, sir." The roundest, most flush woman speaks first, still sharing inquisitive looks with the others as she's temporarily stuck under his limelight.

Eric walks to the counter that she seems to feel relatively comfortable behind and leans forward on it, peering up to her wide, surprised eyes. "I heard through the grapevine that Abbey Ainsworth works here." He plays with the cuttings scattered from a bouquet sitting to his right.

"She does." The woman nods and her double chin wobbles, eyes flicking to his hands and eyes in caution.

"What's your name?" Anyone else that truly knew him, knew the tone he used was way too overly sweet and charming.

"Sandra."

"Well, Sandra. I'm looking for Abbey, is she here?" He tilts his head, scanning her futilely to see if whether she was going to lie or not.

"You just missed her… You'll have to come back after two thirty." The frightened eyes of Sandra peer to the door and back to him, practically begging him to leave.

"Where is she… Sandra…" He notes the way she also glances to the woman out the back who's popping her head through the doorway to look at him until she finally deflates her restricted chest with a hefty conquered lungful.

"Follow the stream out of Amity. Through the bush towards the small waterfall. You'll hear it before you see it. You're more than likely to find her there."

Eric stands, nodding his head. "Thanks, Sandra." He makes a point to also acknowledge the women ogling him from the back, saluting them exaggeratedly. "Ladies…"

Eric had no idea what he was doing here. His uniform was too black, too hot, too forced against his arm muscles, and he had streams of sweat trickling down the sides of his face. It wasn't as windy now as it was earlier, which made it seem all the more blistering.

The little stream runs on his left and he follows the abandoned dirt path alongside it. Crickets and other insects seem to fly and jump around him as he moves and he can hear his own breath as he pants from the heat like some feckless dog.

He's in two minds to turn back when he all of sudden catches the reverberation of running water just beyond a small parting of worn bushes in front of him, perfectly defined to a small human shape.

He closes the distance quickly and holds a hand out in front of him as he pushes his way through the shaded leafed alcove. He immediately stops dead in his tracks. The small 'waterfall' is only about two people high surrounded by boulders of some sort that catch the water into a natural pool. The place is wild and alive with adjacent trees and weird flowers that remind him of cauliflowers.

There she sits, her back to him on a small boulder just by the water, her hair pulled into some messy bun, and he's pleasantly enthralled to see her sporting some mint green dress sitting snuggly against her body. She's totally unaware of him in the early afternoon sun and for a minute he smirks incredulously to himself over the situation.

What does he say now? Does he say that he was looking for her? Did he stumble randomly to this place? Did he see her walk up here? … his evil side kind of wants to push her into the water, mid-thought.

Eric doesn't know what he's going to say, but he was going to approach and figure it out quickly on the spot. He was good with on the spot pressure and that's what he was going to work with.

"Abbey?" He places his hands in his pockets and peers to the floor, biting his cheek, before fixing himself steadily and confidently back onto her having found his steel backbone before she would turn around and see.

For her unsuspecting form, she still turns her head relatively slowly over her shoulder. "Eric?... Oh my god… What are you-"

"I came to… find you…" He's really just lying out his ass now. "And I lost you further back there and was about to turn back – good thing I didn't."

Abbey's face rests in suspicion, then she smiles. "You were looking for me?"

"Yeah…"

She chuckles and pushes her side-swept bangs out of her face that had fallen from her messy bun. "You wanna… sit… or something with me for a bit? Only until I have to go back to work... I'm sure you're really busy, too."

"Okay." He cuts her off quickly. Eric sits next to her on the same boulder and pulls his knees up, looping his arms over the top of them as much as he could from his strained uniform. Suddenly, he feels like he's thirteen again.

"You look hot…"

"You don't look so bad yourself…"

"Eric…" she giggles softly. "I'm saying you look like, really sweaty. You're wearing black for goodness sake." But he smirks back at her and she finally realizes that he was joking. "Wow. So, Dauntless really suits you." She studies him as he slips off his jacket. "Look at those tatts!" She grabs his arm without thinking and he watches her eyes as they roam over the skin. "I'm so jealous."

"You want a tattoo?"

"Yes, why? I think a tattoo would suit me, don't you think?"

"Amity aren't allowed tattoos. And no."

She sighs. "Yeah, like I don't know that already…" and smiles sweetly at him. "I see you still like to try and boss me around."

"I don't think you should get one. It wouldn't look like…." He trails off, not quite wanting to finish, or not even really knowing how to. Eric had wanted to say: you.

"Okay, so you're allowed and I'm not allowed..." She runs her hand down a crack in the boulder and pulls moss, lobbing it at him. "Still such a chicken shit."

"Careful, Ab's. I'll chuck you in if you keep talking like that. Especially to a big, bad Dauntless Leader." He motions with his head to the water.

Abbey gives him a blank look for about a second. "Ohhhh, you were talking about yourself?" And then begins laughing. "I'm terribly mistaken."

Eric grips her ankle and tugs it harshly, causing her to hit him away and eventually landing on her elbows, lying further back. He copies her, just so that they were on the same level.

Abbey's finger traces the indents in the rock but his eyes never lift from her. "I'm sorry I just like, outed I was getting married, out of the blue, not having seen you for so long. I was just really shocked and couldn't find the words to say what I wanted." She blinks a few times before finally lifting her head, meeting the gray-colored haze that stares back at her. "When I saw you, it bought a lot of things back."

"I understand."

"No… no, you don't." She sits up now, throwing something out to the water. "I thought I'd never see you again." She grows quiet, picking at something else instead of looking back at him - and it's utterly annoying.

Eric's really not used to this kind of behavior or emotional put-out. He really doesn't like explaining how he feels, or what's on his mind. It's been a long time since he's seen a woman so conflicted, or even given them enough time to be. Usually, they were in and out and he would barely speak to them again. Abbey was the only woman he could bring himself to actually be pleasant to.

"Well, you're rather depressing me." Eric holds himself on one elbow, lying back casually as he peers out to the small holding of water. Abbey's jaw drops and she shuffles forwards, nearer to the water, and splashes him. For a minute, there is a deadly silence, and he watches the droplets dripping down his crisp vest.

"Shit… I didn't think… sorry…" She begins rambling off, crawling over to him to pat at the water stains on his chest.

"You know; I'd hang you over the chasm if you were an initiate, right…"

"Still find pleasure in pain, Eric?"

"Oh, that's only the start…" She stops patting and evades his gaze, watching his hand as it slides onto the top of hers, swamping them. However, she doesn't pull away, rather plays with his larger fingers, anything to avoid him. She pushes until they are palm to palm and Eric instinctively closes his fingers interlocked with his hers.

"Don't marry him…" The words are out before he even realized he'd thought them. And right now, his heart pulses in his ears, his breathing quickening. It was a long shot, but it was worth the try.

"Eric… I…" His free hand grips onto the back of her bent knees and pulls her further towards him. He doesn't care about her pretty dress, the miniscule distance between them if they were caught, or her fiancée.

"Cancel the wedding. Say you need time."

"Time for what? You'll be back to Dauntless and I'll be back to what I was doing before, alone, giving up the chance someone took on me. Do you know how long it's been since someone took a chance at me? To even ask me out? Men were scared of me, Eric, for years… I was too intelligent, too mischievous, too vivacious."

"Perfect… and every other fucker was stupid – including me, for not seeing it sooner." He sits up, pushing back the sticky hair on her face, trailing the outline of her jaw he knew so perfectly well. His other hand still remained strictly entwined with hers.

"I'm sorry, Eric… I can't, do this, again." She motions with her free hand to the small absent space they had between them. He could feel her words breezily feather against his skin, meaning absolutely nothing to him as he could sense they meant absolutely nothing to her either.

"Fine…"

She peers up as Eric stands. Green flecked orbs wide-eyed and wistful before him, yelping as he picks her up fluidly from the ground in one motion and hurls her into the water. She splutters when she resurfaces and her hair lies flat against her head, strands feathered across her bronzed cheeks.

"You asshole!"

"Don't be like that, it was a bit of fun." He's trying his hardest to stifle the laugh clawing its way up his throat.

"At least help me out, the rocks slippery. I've fallen in before."

"Should I ask?" Valiantly, he holds his hand out, unthinking.

"No, just help me out, shit head." Her cold wet hands grip his, but she's anchored to the water and when he finally looks her in the eye, she's smiling, and now he knows his mistake.

He desperately tries to keep his balance but it's impossible. The angle, the unexpected, her unwomanly strong grip, but mostly her smile.

The water splashes harshly from his militantly dressed body and baulk. Abbey goes under for a few seconds from the momentum but she's laughing when his head finally comes back up.

Strangely, for once, he lets himself laugh with her at his own undoing. Droplet sprinkled faces, flat unkempt hair, and full dazzling wide smiles. The water is actually a relief, and it's deeper than he thought.

To his shock, and his smile faltering, Abbey wraps her legs around his waist. The tips of his feet just touch the bottom to keep them upright as his arms pull her closer, that distinct slippery feeling forming in the base of his stomach in anticipation.

Fuck his now broken phone.

Fuck his sodden unusable gun.

There are goosebumps on her skin, but she's never looked more beautiful, naturally beautiful compared to most of the women he's shared a bed with over the years. Almost hesitantly, she loops each arm over his neck as he wades backward trying to find steadier footing, their eyes never wavering – until she clears her throat.

"Remember that song that I used to sing you, that you absolutely hated…" She keeps her grip firm and his arms reposition till they are sat neatly underneath her ass.

"Please don't, you sound like a squealing pig."

"Okay, okay, I won't sing. But you remember, right?"

"I had nightmares consecutively after every incident." She hits him, splashing water into his face "Yes, I remember."

"At least you remember that." Her eyes drop and she finger-walks down the blocks of his tattoo's, he lifts his head so she can get to the base of his neck.

"I remember everything." She seems too busy checking out his tattoo's rather than listening. "I remember what you taste like..."

That stops her.

Eric audibly hears her swallow, smirking to himself. "I remember what you sound like…"

"Oh, stop it…" She's blushing, but her thighs tighten on his hips.

"I also remember what you feel like…" He watches as her lips part again. Was this some unique cue that she wanted him to kiss her? He's never noticed that before, not even when they were younger. Perhaps it was just something he'd learned with age and he was a little more observant now. "Does your fiancée say these things to you?"

"Does that matter?"

"You don't love him. If you did you wouldn't be here like this, with me." Eric pulls one of his arms from the water and wipes the droplets on the side of her cheek. "You said you loved me once. I know that hasn't changed." He watches as her lips purse themselves into a fine line. Without a push, he knew Abbey wouldn't productively sort her life out. "I'm going to give you an option. You call off the wedding amicably, or, I'll stop the wedding myself."

"Don't be stupid. I'll be hated, they'll gossip. I can't-"

"Okay, don't see it as an option then. It's going to happen, one way or another." Eric feels her wriggling, fighting the conflicted emotions.

"You can't just waltz into my life after all these years and call the shots."

"I think it's about time I did. So, I am now." Abbey sighs against him, closing her eyes and tilting her head back. He makes a point of grabbing her attention by gripping the back of her legs harder, pressing her against him.

"Just give me a few days." She's peering down at him while he watches her lips, and it's positively mesmerizing. Eric comes to the conclusion he could spend the rest of the day in this position – and also that he wants to bite her. "What are people going to say?"

"Fuck everyone."

"That's such an Eric thing to say, I'm not like you." He lets her fingers adventure around the piercings of his ears, the nape of his neck, slipping themselves underneath the shoulders of his vest. Eventually, she leans forwards and brushes her nose against his and he lets out a small suspended breath. "My moon came back…" Abbey whispers, almost agonizingly-defeated, clamping her eyes closed.

Eric can't think of anything reasonable to reply with, so instead, he settles for:

"I did."

It's those damn crickets and shitting frogs keeping him up in the night. But not only them, Abbey. Eric wonders if she's with her fiancée right now and the thought makes him feel sick, gripping at the base of his stomach and tightening his chest. He turns over for the billionth time.

Just as his eyes start to slowly close, someone begins pelting on his door. "Sir! There's been an incident!" Eric responds instantly on auto-pilot, throwing himself out of the covers and grabbing his pants. He's dressed within a matter of seconds and yanking the door open to the young Dauntless member scared shitless before him.

"What is it?!" Eric pushes past him without giving the young lad a second thought, heading for Johanna's office in the first instance, unsure as to whether that was particularly where he was meant to go but the young Dauntless follows him so it was a good a guess as any.

"The factionless have taken two Amity trucks. One of the drivers is fatal." The boy pants from behind him.

"Was it a night-run?"

"Yes, just the two. The drivers were left out by the road."

"Where?" Eric's voice has taken on a darker tone, viciously snapping at the youngster having grown impatient.

"That's the thing, it was literally just outside Amity."

Eric storms through the already open barn doors in the blackened night and marches the twirled steps. Johanna's already here, looking like she just rolled out of bed herself, her face twisted under the pale lighting. "What are you not telling me, Johanna? And think very carefully before you lie to me." He comes to a stop as his legs hit her desk, using it as some form of restraint on himself before he automatically throttles the woman.

"I-I, I thought it was under control."

"I'm guessing it was food or mechanical support you were offering them. Which is it?"

"They said if we fed them then they would leave Amity alone…" Johanna trails off, turning her head away from the burning hate in front of her.

Eric slams his fist on the desk. "You'll be prosecuted for this - aiding the factionless! You know that right?" He huffs, heaving his chest painfully, the adrenaline and annoyance on full flow. "Why did they attack? Food payment not on time? Or something else?"

"We didn't have enough to cover them, it's been hot, the crops are dry and there are many mouths to feed. I thought they wouldn't miss one delivery."

"You've painted a fucking target on Amity, you know that? You stupid cunt!" Eric says the words with utter venom. "If you have any self-respect left, you'll let me guide the movements from Amity, without question, from here on." Eric motions for a phone from the boy behind him, leaving Johanna in her guilt-ridden position as he can't bear to look at her.

"What are you doing? Who are you calling?" Johanna speaks to his large, shadow-covered frame - predominately to the back of his head.

"Someone's got to sort this shit out."

Eric stands in the early hours, hands in his pockets, roaming over the small wooden hut standing in front of him.

Abbey lives here.

He's not stalking her – he tells himself. He's just checking to make sure she was okay, make sure there was no factionless hanging around. And with that in mind, he brings himself to the door and knocks timidly.

A light flicks on outback and he can hear the sleepy occupants footsteps tread towards the door.

Abbey opens the door a crack, her eyes puffy and tired, a light robe pulled around her. "Eric? Are you okay? Has something happened?" She lets the door swing wide open and gleefully he watches the way she checks him out in complete worry.

"I'm fine. Are you alone?"

She nods, then smiles. "I am. My fiancée is not here if that's what you're asking? He respects my need for my timed independence."

"Let's not go over this again," Eric shakes his head.

Abbey takes a step back, chewing her lip, looking behind her briefly. "You want to come in?"

"I just came to see if you were okay. You should really go back to bed, it's late and you must have plenty of flowers to pick first thing..." He smiles, but it's forced. He's more tired than he's letting on.

"Oh, right… You, er… wanna sleep here?" She shifts nervously, and he quirks a brow at the unexpected. "Just sleep… nothing else, you idiot."

"Okaayyy." Eric suddenly feels sixteen again and stuck under the oak tree of where she first kissed him.

She holds her hand out, an elegant but working hand with finely cut nails. He hesitates for a split second in a natural second instinct, a trick, or a game that he wouldn't put past her. He gazes at her palm before meeting her green and accustomed eyes that are smiling at him, crumbling every defense he has ever built towards her.

Eric is a condemned man – when he slips his hand in hers.

#crush #chapter 3 #beautifulramblingbrains #abbey and eric #eric divergent fanfiction #fanfiction #divergent #insurgent #jai courtney

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esonetwork · 5 years

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Will Ashley survive the Game of Thrones?: Thoughts on the series from a first-time viewer

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Will Ashley survive the Game of Thrones?: Thoughts on the series from a first-time viewer

At this point, it feels like I’m the last person in all of my social circles who hasn’t watched Game of Thrones.

I know that’s probably not true, but as a geek, it feels weird not being part of the discussion surrounding such a hugely popular fantasy TV series. However, by the time I started experiencing major “fear of missing out,” the show was almost over.

So, I decided to wait until the last episode had aired, and then watch the series in its entirety. I’ve already heard a number of spoilers for the show (I know how all the major character arcs end, and I know who ultimately ends up on the coveted Iron Throne).

While knowing these spoilers does take away from the suspense somewhat, I thought this prior knowledge might actually make for an interesting viewing experience. Since I know how the story ends, I can watch for clues along the way, to see how the writers get our characters from beginning to end. I won’t be worried about how certain character arcs wrap up; instead, I can watch this series more through the lens of wanting to see if the writers justify how we arrive at the ending.

I’ve heard the controversy surrounding the show’s final season, and I’m curious how knowing some of the criticisms ahead of time will impact my overall perception of the show. Also, after eight years of buildup, can this show live up to the hype?

Political games

***Warning: From here on, there are tons of spoilers for the entire series!***

In terms of narrative scope and cinematography, Game of Thrones is probably the most impressive TV series I have ever watched. A lot of times, you can tell that TV shows have smaller budgets than big screen movies, but all the costumes, sets, and special effects here are top-notch. It really helps create an immersive world that can compete with the caliber of most any big-budget blockbuster.

One of the things that first intrigued me about Game of Thrones was its similarity to real-life history: the Wars of the Roses in medieval England. A couple years ago, I fell down what I’ll lovingly call a “historical rabbit hole” triggered by the BBC miniseries “The Hollow Crown: The Wars of the Roses.” This miniseries covers several of Shakespeare’s historical plays depicting the Wars of the Roses, a brutal period in England’s history plagued by conspiracies, betrayal, backstabbing, and fierce competition for power. (Sound familiar?)

Anyway, I was so intrigued by this show that I immediately went searching for books on this time period, so I could learn more about it. During this time, my husband was forced to hear a LOT about the Wars of the Roses, and he very patiently listened to all the reasons I found this time period so fascinating. (Side note: “The Wars of the Roses: The Fall of the Plantagenets and the Rise of the Tudors” by Dan Jones is a great read, if you’re curious. And if you’re missing Game of Thrones, you should definitely watch “The Hollow Crown.”)

Apparently original Game of Thrones author George R.R. Martin at least somewhat shares my obsession, as he reportedly used the Wars of the Roses as inspiration for his own series.

Despite the show’s fictional setting, there’s a sense of “realness” that grounds Game of Thrones, and I believe this in no small part contributes to the show’s popularity. Plus, even though we may no longer live in medieval times, political maneuvering and backstabbing are behaviors that are still going on today (just look at some of those political mailers that inevitably show up in your mailbox around election time).

Who’s who in Westeros

There’s probably never been an ensemble cast quite like the distinguished crew of actors gathered for Game of Thrones, many of whom have gone on to successful careers outside the show. In terms of characters, if you’re looking for noble knights and benevolent rulers, you’ll have a hard time finding them here. However, there’s more nuance to be found than you might first suspect.

After the first couple of episodes, I felt pretty sure that ALL the Lannisters deserved to be pushed out a very high window. Yet as I kept watching, I could tell some of these characters were going to get a deeper, more layered character arc. I’m definitely #TeamStark all the way, but I am intrigued by pretty much all the major characters. And of course, you always need a few characters that you love to hate (looking at you, King Joffrey!).

This show is grittier and bleaker than a lot of the fantasy stories I’ve read or watched previously, and it took me a couple episodes to adjust to the tone. I would say there’s more villains than heroes, but again, I can see several characters that may wind up as anti-heroes or even heroes at the end. There’s a lot of tragedy to be found in Westeros, as well; I can see how some of the nastier characters, like Cersei, have been trapped by their circumstances. It’s an environment that doesn’t exactly allow them to flourish and become their best selves.

Sadly, one of my favorite characters is already gone (R.I.P. Eddard “Ned” Stark — Westeros was not worthy of you!). He’s noble, loyal, and genuinely trying to do the right thing and protect his family. Tragically, he’s outmaneuvered in the game of thrones going on around him, and the price he must pay is his life.

While I’d like to watch more of the show before commenting on what themes I think it’s trying to communicate, I have heard some say that Game of Thrones presents more of a nihilistic viewpoint, where it doesn’t matter if you try to be a moral person. However, I don’t think that’s necessarily the case. Ned Stark isn’t rewarded for doing the right thing, but I’d argue that you should do the right thing because it’s the right thing — whether you’re rewarded or not. Sometimes in life, bad things happen to good people. That doesn’t give you an excuse to just give up and be a bad person.

Ned Stark’s selflessness gets him killed, but, because I already know the ending, I find it fitting that one of his children (Bran) claims the throne and another is Queen in the North (Sansa); they become two of the most powerful players in the political games going on around them. Again, I’m curious to see how all these journeys are handled, but at least right now, I believe one very well could argue that Ned Stark does triumph in the end.

Room for improvement

Well, you can probably tell by the fact that I’ve already written 1,000+ words in this article that I’m officially a fan of Game of Thrones now and I’m really glad I decided to start watching this series. But, I feel like I do have to address one of the most common criticisms I’ve seen about the show, because this issue did bother me while I was watching.

If you Google “Game of Thrones and its portrayal of women,” you’ll find multiple articles on how the series has not always done right by its female characters. And it’s frustrating, because we live in an era with Wonder Woman, Rey, Katniss Everdeen, Captain Marvel, and so many other authentic and powerful female characters.

A number of the male characters in Game of Thrones don’t treat the female characters with a lot of respect (with the exception of the Stark family — again, I’m definitely #TeamStark all the way!). The writing and cinematography also seem to objectify and sexualize women to a much greater extent than their male counterparts.

On the one hand, yes, this series is based on medieval Europe, and women in that society probably were not treated very well. It’s important to remember that history, so we do not repeat it.

However, this is a fictional fantasy series written and filmed in the 2010s — if you’re going to do a period piece showing a society that is oppressive to women, you need to be responsible in how you showcase that oppression.

Case in point: although unlike Game of Thrones, Downton Abbey has practically no graphic violence, the women in that show are also held back by social constraints. The key difference is that in Downton Abbey, the female characters are given space (and a voice!) to communicate their frustrations and struggles with the limits that their society places on them.

In the first season, I desperately wanted more scenes with all of Games of Thrones’ rich female characters — Cersei Lannister, Sansa Stark, Catelyn Stark, Arya Stark, and Daenerys, to name a few — discussing their fears, thoughts, and feelings. Hopefully I’ll find more of this as the series goes on. I want the show to convince me it cares about its female characters as much as it cares about — and respects — the male ones.

Closing thoughts

Since I started drafting this blog post, I’m now about halfway through season 2, and I’m enjoying it even more than I enjoyed season 1. The show has also added several new female characters, which I’m excited about, and I think the portrayal of the female characters is improving.

I’m planning to keep blogging my way through Westeros as I watch through the stories, and I can’t wait to see more!

#Game of Thrones #HBO #Lannister #review #Stark #TV

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