#jacques makes sure he doesnt have any :) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

femininetea · 3 years

Text

"Always expecting betrayal... But never from you"

The general who became a father to his soldier (spoilers for rwby v8 ch13)

Personal impressions:

I was so mad last week, thinking IW would have been defeated already/too soon but they tricked us. And I'm so glad it's a Winter vs. Ironwood fight. And the emotions.... I can't.

He was her father figure and I'm sure it was viewed like that from both sides. We were clearly shown what IW would do if anyone was in his way. Even when she disobeyed he didn't shoot her. He trusted her until the last moment.... We saw him get mad, break down and hopeless. But never cry. It's not just any soldier he's fighting. He's fighting his right hand. Winter Schnee, someone who was like a daughter to him.

But let's get to their actual relationship.

An essay on Winter in RWBY is planned btw.

Winter seems to have the highest rank in the military next to Ironwood, which is impressive for her age and shows her determination but also how IW believes in her

In V4 Jacques claimed that IW "stole his daughter" and IW hinted at that they often had this conversation

In V7 Jacques asked IW if Winter knew that Weiss returned to Atlas

From the point of V2 and V3 it seems that Winter still had contact to Jacques but not as much anymore in V7, something happened and I think because of the dust embargo IW and Jacques had their confrontation and Winter obviously chose IW's side and detached from her father completely

(It was always hinted (and I think even stated in the remnant guide book) that Winter protected her siblings and had to take the most abuse. And you can clearly see that by her type of fight or flight trauma and how she's literally supposed to represent the ice queen with her hidden emotions and stuff

You see her in that state of shock, fear, panic, trauma etc. when she realizes that she failed Ironwood. He was proud of her for catching Yang, Ren and Jaune and put his hand on her since they would be useful. Harriet then told him and I think this represents how someone like IW would be able to hurt her that much emotionally since he is in the position of an authority and a father figure to her)

Also he was ready to shoot his people at any time like the council man or Marrow but he didn't shoot her and allowed her to stay by her side

That and how she defends IW most of the time show how she trusts her judgment, IW trusts her judgement as well as seen in V4 when he told Jacques that Winter told him that there was a threat in Mistral

In World of Remnant we see IW walking past soldiers and Winter standing out. It was about the technical grooming of atlas students to join the military but you can tell from what we know of Ironwood, that he has a good heart (eruption fang made a vid on that recently)

When Winter told Weiss that "the general would have a place for you" She said it with such happiness, atlas and the military was winter's new home and IW gave her the chance to repurpose her life

She even defended IW in front of Jacques, her biological father and she takes great personal offense when his judgement is mistreated. Even when Weiss talked about trust Winter said that he would never hide anything from her

The offer with the Winter Maiden... You could say that he did this to control her and I'd accept your opinion... But there's one thing that makes me think that he still obviously also cared for her. Over the years he knew how much the military meant to her. She even told Penny that her life doesnt matter and only her job does. It means everything to her and like Winter said herself, she saw the Maiden powers as a privilege and it makes me feel like Ironwood saw them as something that would make her unique and give her once again a purpose that is unique to her and not just her being one of many soldiers

He even apologized, knowing it wouldn't be easy for her (since he expected Winter and not Ozcar) and when he had his talk with RWBY he called Winter her/Weiss' sister instead of just her name and idk but that just made this even more special

In Volume 8 it is once again shown how Winter is basically the one who also trusted Ironwood until the end. And in ch 12 she didnt judge him... She expressed her worries for his behavior. She couldn't believe the man who made her feel like she was everything would ever become so cruel

They way their worry for each other looks so similar

And while I know that they have a theme for the Atlas military , I think it's obvious how Winter looked even more like IW in all her outfits compared to the rest of the military

Many people think Ironwood is dumb for over trusting Winter but I think it shows his flaw as a general. He let's his emotions get in the way since he cares about her and continues to trust her even though she disobeyed orders

His last words were "As my last order: step aside", he could've just shot her again as she layed defenseless on the ground but he didn't

Remember how in the first episode he said "Thank you Winter, I don't know what I would do without you"

Right before, she said that she'll be fine without him asking anything. It sounds a little more personal in my opinion. Why would you tell your boss that you'll be fine without him asking about your status? the conversation was literally about Qrow and Robyn before but he looked worried and wanted the room for themselves and she immediately said that.

Some people also talk about how they emphasized with Ironwood in volume 7 since wasn't shown to have family or a partner yet would do anything for Atlas. But again, he did care about Winter a lot and wanted her to be save.

Something I also noticed when writing this is that in volume 3 Ironwood called her Schnee yet in V7 he calls the Ace Ops and her via first name basis. Clover said that he trusts Ironwood with this life and I think that's how Winter and the Ace ops felt about him, the person who gave them hope. Especially Winter.

And now we're here. Seeing the man cry a tear. We know now, if Winter wins, she has to kill him. Imprisoning him wasn't enough. And I think that will be her final moment of her being a "Ice Queen", when she has to kill him, she will probably turn to her emotional side and grieve.

As mentioned, the military, her position, her rank and Ironwood meant everything to her. She talked so enthusiastically when she had her conversation with Weiss about moving in together without their father and how IW has a place for her younger sister. And now along with Ironwood, both are in a situation they never thought they'd be in.

That was it from me. In short form , I just wanted to share some ideas and things I've noticed about their relationship and dynamic. None of this is meant as a romantic way and you can of course disagree but please stay respectful. Thank you and we'll see each other next chapter<3

P. S. Winter please don't die

385 notes · View notes

remnantoforario · 3 years

Text

RWBY Volume 8 Episode 2 Thoughts

Oh great...Robyn and Jacques are talking to each other.

Oh thank the Brother Gods Watts is here. Sabat makes everything better.

Yes, Robyn, smile at police brutality.

So you hate your entire existence then? Because you’ve been doing nothing since Volume 7.

Really, Qrow? Your STILL blaming Ironwood? Or do you mean Tyrian? Either way I’d rather them still be alive than you right now honestly.

You know if they used this reporter guy last volume to explain plot points V7 wouldnt have felt as rushed.

“It feels like the end of days” he says as people calmly walk down the street like they’re on vacation.

Seriously, there aren’t any Grimm anywhere.

Joanna’s a dick to reporters

Oh hey, the preview scene.

Geez these child models are scary to look at.

Oh hey, the other preview scene

Is Ren annoyed at helping people now?

I never thought I would say this but...FINALLY some racism around here.

Wait, when did the Faunus decide this? We didnt see any at all in V7 that weren’t Blake, Marrow, Sheep Girl, or Tyrian. Almost like they forgot about them or something...

Oh NOW Yang cares about the Faunus since she’s schrodinger fucking one

Wouldnt be RWBY without ill timed comedy

It’s almost like there are years of conditioning and factors that lead to this divide between humans and faunus, but I dont expect you guys to know that since its never been explored...like at all.

Yep, Robyn wanted the tower up so bad...that she stole supplies and didnt give them back even AFTER finding out about the plan. Real team player.

Oh hey, Blake’s hair is fixed.

Weiss, you are the one shining light in this show.

Minor correction, Penny. The AceOps didnt attack RWBY, it was the other way around.

No, Ruby, it WASN’T a lie. Ironwood is 100% telling the truth, people are going to die without Penny. That is on your head.

It is so jarring when Lindsay uses her actual voice for Ruby at times. You guys gotta let Lindsay age up Ruby’s voice.

Ruby speaks like someone who THINKS she knows what the right thing to say is, but actually doesnt understand and makes things worse.

Ren storming off wasnt supposed to be funny...but it was

Sheep Girl’s uncle is the mole guy? interesting

Oh look. Grimm. Nice to see, what 3 is this supposed invasion?

Im mad they just sat there and watched that Grimm dog walk Oscar...even if it was a kind of hilarious.

Also, good camera work on that attack honestly.

That thing just transform?

I really do hate how inconsistent RWBY is with how threatening the Grimm are supposed to be. One second 100+ are being soloed by four school girls, then the next one Grimm just pushes everyones shit in.

“Grimm aren’t that smart” well neither are you, Jaune.

Also, didnt the Nucklavee have above average intelligence? Did you forget that fight?

Did...Did that Grimm just talk?

This Grimm is not my new favorite character (sorry, Weiss). I shall named him “Gooby” (Grimm Scooby)

Now Im not gonna say this Grimm was inspired by Venom, but...

Say what you want about Ruby’s horrible leadership...at least no one got kidnapped under her watch.

Well maybe you try TELLING her, Yang. Pretty sure people deserve to know theres a super strong talking Grimm that can grow wings.

I hope Liebrecht voicing Gooby isnt a permanent thing...

#RWBY #RWBY Volume 8 #V8 spoilers

15 notes · View notes

deviousdoctor · 3 years

Text

// And now for a rwby au I cannot get out of my head.

Arthur and Willow get married. Its arranged by Nicholas Schnee and Watts father. Nicholas because Jacques Gelé has been flirting with Willow, and Nicholas doesn't trust him as far as he could throw him. Arthur's father to try and salvage what percieved damage Arthur's done to the family name by joining the military.

Arthur and Willow get along well, both slightly rebellious spirits. Willow did train to be a Huntress so they knew each other in passing and Arthur is a surgical resident. They get married at 20 (Willow) and 22 (Arthur).

Their relationship is based on trust and a platonic love for one another. Arthur being a gay man, though very much closest when they got married. It is something he does admit to Willow after a few years, and as his best friend Willow is happy to know and keep his secret.

Nicholas wanted to have Arthur run SDC, but Arthur is very much not a business man. Plus willow grew up watching her father run the company and as a disciplined Hunteress she's ready to step into her father's shoes when the time comes.

Under Willow's direction as CEO, SDC treats all its employees with dignity and respect, faunus and human. She also works with the Atlas military in building and maintaining the power and heating to Atlas and Mantle. There is still an accident in the mines, resulting in the loss of lives. But Willow has it thoroughly investigated and makes sure the people who allowed for unsafe practices are fired and charged. And she reacts with compassion for the families of those who lost loved ones or were injured. Paying things like medical bills, paying out pensions. And for people who can no longer work in the mines, helping paying for new job training.

She's not the cold and calculated CEO that Jacques is.

They have 3 kids, Winter, Weiss, and Whitley. They all have Willow's hair and eyes, but Arthur's skin tone.

Winter joins the Atlas military like her father, but as a hunteress instead of a scientist. She still is outwardly stoic and stern, as the first born of the Schnee-Watts children.

Weiss wants to be a huntress, but doesnt want to join the military. And after much hand ringing from Arthur and Willow, they allow her to go to her school of choosing, Beacon. She's still prim and proper, but is more understanding of others and their struggles.

Whitley doesn't know what he wants to be, torn between becoming a doctor and wanting to run the SDC after Willow retires. He can still be a bit of shit, he has the only boy and youngest sibling energy.

Willow and Arthur have discussed divorce, and had relationships, both romantic and sexual outside of their marriage. But they stay married because they do love each other and want to keep their family together. Both agree to be discreetly in an open marriage. They are happy to have someone to come home to at the end of the day.

They don't keep Arthur's sexuality a secret from the kids. They feel it's important that the kids know their dad, while still pretty private about his sexuality, is proud of who he is. And that they love each other, as friends, and all their children.

Jacques Gelé is a slimy politician they both dislike.

James is Uncle James to the kids, but Willow and Arthur have no problems telling him to shove it when they need to. Willow can be a little more harsh than Arthur, because she knows Arthur used to be in love with James but James was oblivious and demanding of Arthur's work at the same time. There was definitely some taking advantage of Arthur happening in their friendship. And Willow helped Arthur realize that it wasn't any good for Arthur to be in this unrequited love situation.

Willow did have a struggle with Alcohol for a while. It was after Whitley was born. And after her Father died. The situation with three kids and grieving the loss of her father took It's toll on her. Arthur did help by taking some of her stress away, taking some time off of work to be their for the kids. Helped her get to counseling and helped her sober up.

After 25 years of marriage, 3 kids, and getting policies repealed like don't ask, don't tell, they can't see leaving their marriage to be with other people.

#:: Au idea thingy #if i could draw i would draw Winter Weiss and Whitley for this Au #but i have no art skills

8 notes · View notes

bridgyrose · 4 years

Note

the sdc is holding a ball, where wby meet for the first time. somehow, their flirting convinces jacques that they're all secretly dating. they decide to run with it just to make him angrier, and he eventually snaps. his public image is ruined, and stocks plummet the next day. they decide to date for real because why not?

(not the entirety of the prompt, but I figured I’d have a bit of fun since I’ve let this one sit for a while)

“Just quit your fussing!”

Yang sighed, fidgeting nervously as she looked at everybody around. “All I’m saying is that we dont belong here. This is way too fancy-”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “I dont want to be here either. But dad was invited and he brought us along. Besides, at least you dont need to wear these… lady stilts.”

Yang chuckled a bit as she straightened out her suit jacket. “You could’ve gotten a suit too.”

“You know dad wouldn’t want to hear it. Besides, I never could find one that fit.”

Yang sighed and ruffled Ruby’s hair a bit. “I’ll try to enjoy myself. Besides, this really cant be all that bad, now can it?”

Ruby nodded. “We’re professional huntresses. We’ve handled way worse than this.”

Yang smiled slightly and started walking around the edge of the room. The rich and successful from all over Remnant could be seen around. All invited by the head of the SDC himself. “Makes me wonder why dad was invited anyway.”

“We needed the extra security.”

Yang turned around to see a young woman with white hair, eyes of soft blue, and wearing a blue dress to match. “O-oh, sorry, I didnt realize you’d be here.”

The woman shook her head. “I promise, I’m just a normal girl like you. Although, I cant say you arent all that bad to look at.”

Yang blushed a little bit and held out her hand. “Yang Xiao Long.”

“Weiss Schnee.”

“So, what exactly is the occasion for this?”

Weiss sighed. “Father has decided he’s going to show off the new dust that was created. Not like he had anything to do with it…”

Yang nodded and smiled at her. “While we’re here, why dont we have ourselves a dance?”

Weiss looked at Yang curiously. “And what makes you think that you’re worthy of a dance with me?”

Yang shrugged. “Just figured I’d ask.”

Weiss smirked and took Yang’s arm. “Just this one. Only because it’ll piss off father.”

Yang smiled and walked Weiss to the middle of the ballroom.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Blake frowned as she watched everyone dance and enjoy themselves. She was the only faunus here and she knew exactly why. And to add insult to injury, Jacques had been avoiding her all night. A night of diplomacy my ass. Cant even bother to try to make the lie believable. She sat down, just waiting for the night to be over.

It wasnt long before a certain heiress and blonde caught her eye. She watched them dance for a bit, curious. Blake got up and walked closer to them once the two finished.

Weiss noticed and stopped for a moment. “O-oh. It’s you. I didnt actually expect for you to come.”

Blake sighed. “I probably shouldn’t have. Not like your father is interested in any peace talks.”

“You can blame that on the fact that he prefers the good pr over actually doing any of the work. Just inviting someone like you makes him look like the better man.”

Yang stepped up and smiled at her. “By the way, I’m Yang.”

Blake smiled a bit and bowed. “Blake Belladonna, leader of the White Fang.”

“If Weiss doesnt mind, maybe I can take you out for a dance next.”

Blake looked at the two curiously. “Why me?”

Weiss smirked. “Cant two pretty women make sure another is having fun?”

Blake nodded and took both Weiss’s and Yang’s hands. “Then let’s have a little fun.”

#blake bellodona #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #drabbles #bees schnees #rwby #rwby bees schnees #just a night at a ball #just a fun little au were blake and weiss never go to Beacon and nothing bad happened #Ruby and Yang have been huntresses for a couple of years #might continue with the aftermath of this event later

16 notes · View notes

monsters00km · 4 years

Text

Ok so let's talk about one of my fav characters Winter Schnee. Aka the Ice Queen. So many have pointed out she will most likely be Elsa from Frozen, so I wanted to talk about that.

Let's talk about the character first so Elsa is a girl who had magic powers. But anytime she let her emotions go her powers got out of control to the point she hurt her younger sister. So she hids her emotions and hides away in her room until she is older. Her parents die. And she grows up to be crowned queen. Which at this point she runs away creates a giant fortress and Olaf and just tries to stay there. Anna her sister with the help of kristoff, Sven, and Olaf. Shit happens, trolls show up, and Elsa is captured by sisters fiance Hans and Anna is zapped by Winter and needs an act of love to live. Anna saved herself by saving elsa from han. Then they all live happy ever after. Except han.

Ok, so let's start Winter is Elsa, which I find fascinating. Bc elsa big song is literally "conceal dont feel", and winter literally explains this concept to penny in season 7. You can have personal feels but you need to control them and hide them. And this is about a girl with magical powers, and winter was supposed to be the maiden. And I have so many thoughts on this.

Cause my first thought is of course her family represents the family in Frozen. Her parents tell her to hide her emotions and hide away trying to control her powers, and then they die. In Rwby her father tries to control her and her mother doesnt do much to stop him. Then Jacque is put in prison and I doubt Willow gonna recover much even with Jacque gone. So, that kinda handles the "dead" parents.

Next in this is Anna. All Anna has wanted was to build a snowman. Like her entire life. Weiss idolizes Winter. She runs to her in v3. Then she does the same in V7.

Next is Olaf. A magical snowman. Like olaf has to be Penny, right? A pure soul that shouldn't be a soul, but is. One that was created. Yes winter didnt create Penny but someone did. And now we have the end of season 7 and where is Penny? With Wiess not winter. Just like olaf leaves his creator and goes on a journey with Anna.

Next is Han. Yes Han is his sister fiance. But what Han really does is take over her kingdom and kidnaps her and her sister. And he does this through manipulation. After she frees herself from her own castle. To me the biggest contender for this is Ironwood. Yes. I know he doesnt capture Elsa. But he has manipulated her. Think about the scene in the dining room. Jacque says some stuff that gets Winter to make an outburst and several things happen; Jacque manipulates her words and uses them against her, Ironwood tells her to shut up, Robyn is looking at her like she approves of this outburst, and Penny thinks its marvelous that she spoke from the heart. Which is very telling. Then we have s3. The Winter v Qrow fight. What happens there? Ironwood is yet again reprimanding Winter for her "outburst". Those are the main times we see winter fall out of line and he both times he tells her shes wrong and to fall in line. Where Hans manipulates Anna, Ironwood has done so to Winter.

So small holes in this is first Whitley. First not sure it matters cause we have never seen them interact (and we could make a joke about the Tarzan theory). Second Sven and Kristoff. In Frozen Kristoff is Anna real love interest and Sven is his reindeer. But these could represent so many characters, the could represent any one from rby or jnpr. Or idk may be they give Weiss a love interest in the next volume and they got a dog or something.

My wonder is what is Winters breaking point? When will she realize she is yet again a prisoner to someone else? And my big concern is what if her being queen represent the maiden powers? Bc Elsa doesnt become queen until after she official learns to control her powers otherwise opening up with her emotions. My fear is that would mean Penny must die.

Or may be the queen thing is a representation of her being the Heir to the SDC. She leaves therefore leaving SCD behind and may be after everything that's gonna happen she either is Ironwood successor(at the school) or Jacques. Putting her in a position of power.

I just want to say if this happens we might get this:

To happen to winter. And I know we saw her with her hair down but that was like on accident and mot styled that way.

#winter schnee #weiss schnee #jacque schnee #willow schnee #whitley schnee #james ironwood #penny polendina #rwby #rwby7

7 notes · View notes

adhdsoras · 4 years

Text

The Ace Ops & The Rule of Four

The number 4 is a common theme within the world of RWBY, and has been a rule that we've only seen being broken a few times. Everything comes in a set of 4; the relics, the schools, the maidens, the number of people in a team, you name it.

When it comes to the breaking of the rule of four and teams, there have been a lot of exceptions, specifically when it comes Salem's Faction. Salem is exempt from a lot of common themes in society, such as color names, and being the main antagonist, as well as a person from a completely different time period, her being exempt is fine. The White Fang also doesn't follow this rule, as they are a large sum of people. Antagonists have a very specific theme of breaking the rule of four.

Another case of this rule being broken is in the case of team JNPR, whos group of 4 became 3 with the death of Pyrrha. STRQ also has this case, but they also broke off all together after the death of Summer. JNR is also coming back to fulfill the role with the opening alluding to the formation of a new team (which I'm calling ALPN- pronounced alpine) with rhe inclusion of Oscar.

The Ace Ops are the only team of 5 that we've ever seen next to the combination of Roman, Neo, Cinder, Emerald & Mercury, but considering that they never teamed up together at the same time, we can't truly call them a team of 5. This could easily mean multiple outcomes from this fact.

At least one of the Ace Ops is a traitor

At this point its difficult to defuse that one, or all of the Ace Ops, are traitors. But, considering that antagonists break the rule of four, this is very likely. This could mean either working with Salem, Jacques OR Robyn Hill (because traitorous deeds are based on perception, and if Hare or Elem were working with Hill I would scream). Now if it comes to traitors for Salem, this doesnt make the most sense, as there would have been hinting at an informant at some point during Watts "strutting through Mantle" dialogue.

The traitor(s) belonging to either Hill or Jacques is quite fitting, especially with the Election that has been prompted multiple times in the background of the volume so far. I wouldn't rule out Hill having an informant, particularly because Hill hasn't been introduced so everything about her is up in the air, but also because her allusion has a very chaotic neutral/lawful evil moral alignment.

Hill's allusion to Robin Hood means shes all for the "steal from the rich & give to the poor" kind of conduct. So I don't think spying or infiltration is past her code of conduct. What information could she be gaining? That I'm not so sure. She might know about the maidens already, considering her side by side fight with Qrow in the intro (which also shows Qrow's alignment with Ironwood if Jacques wins the election). Or she could have learned about them and the plans of Ironwood, which she would actively try to stop because its a really bad plan. Beyond that? No clue

But in the case of Jacques, theres so many motives with a traitor. He has the money for influence, of course, so that's an easy reason for someone to flip flop. But for Jacques, he's watching out for everything, every detail. He could easily blackmail Ironwood and have someone with a lot more ethos tell the world about Salem on a whim. He could also use one of the Ops to rig the election (which I think is out of Hill's moral range. She's about stopping corruption, rigging it would be going against the Robin Hood code). He could also just be getting a leg up, maybe wanting to have died on Winter, or with the return of Weiss, try and kill her again. Theres a lot that can go on with a Jacques traitor within the Ops.

One of them is going to die to complete the rule

For this its easy to claim one of them will die, but I'm this case I specifically think that Clover is going to be the one to die.

My reason for this is because of his semblance, as well as him being the odd one out, even if he is the leader. Hare & Marrow are a pair with combatiable semblances; Hare having speed and Marrow having a semblance (which I'll call Obedience) that causes Grimm to "stay" like a dog. Elem & Vine also have combatiable semblances, as they both have similar themes to each other; Elem with her roots & Vine with his weird aura arm things.

Clover on the other hand has good luck, and yet he separated himself from the group. Plus with the whole theme of "everything is not what it seems", I'm assuming his luck will run out. Nothing in this volume has gone the way that any of us expected, honestly. Whether if it was with the return of Penny, or the reintroduction of Ironwood, as well as the sudden twists in tone near/at the end of each episode, Clover is the most likely candidate of the Ace Ops to die.

Any of the other memebers could easily die too, but thematically Clover makes the most sense, especially with his foil to Qrow, and the automatic closeness of their relationship. His death would be a great time shift in the volume, whether at the end or not, sending the message of "your lucks about to run out".

#rwby #rwby 7 #rwby spoilers #atlas ace ops #mine #yeehaw.... i like clover so far but hom dying...#poetic cinema

7 notes · View notes

bonbonswirl-blog · 5 years

Text

Answer

All characters belong to @brueklynn I OWN NOTHING.

I dont even have to say this is not canon. This one is a part of the bad fanfics its very rushed so if you didnt like reading I wont blame you at all XD

The whole studio was in a turmoil

Every single worker was rushing together to join the jammed crowd, all of them Clustering a single certain "chipper" person that all the studio knew and loved, or thats what they thought he was, until the cruel truth had been discovered. What is that truth you ask? Well, it seems that a specific young, organist may had very accidently dropped a clear evidence that reaveled his...

Real identity.

A wall behind him, a hundred of people imorisoning him in a small circle, there was no way of escape. Everyone he met, everyone he talked to, everyone he helped, everyone he friended, everyone, are now locking him up for interrogations with no where to go, nobody is by his side, nobody. The crowd seemed to flow down with every new person joining in every second. Who could have assumed that Johnny, the sweet boy who would light up the air every time he is present, is the same person as the mafia leader who is in the top of every police force dangerous criminals list? It was all unintelligable. Sadly, the truth never lies.

Hundreds of thousands tones of voices erupted around him, all filled with anger, confusion, even dissapointment. Johnny dark motives were invisible to everyone, cause they never imagined it, they could never do. Inside all of them is one question. 'why?' It had no way of an answer, or atleast for now. How could they get answers? Where will they get answers? What will you say as an answer for the reason behind your actions?

Johnny just stood there as still while the magnitude of his panic swept over him. the gravelly tones flowed to his ears like a cold tide. Every word over pronounced, slicing rather than tumbling through the dry air. All these voices were like small parts of a cluster exploding his brain, it was on fire now anyway. His eyes shifting to both sides in a rapid speed. Everyone is a stranger now, everyone is infurated, everyone is a....former....friend? Pretty sure he will be alone from now on, nobody was having the pleasure of watching the horrified recognition of who he was spread over his perfect features. Questions shot faster than gunshots at him, all at once from every single angle that he couldnt even get any kind of a simple word from anyone or anything, the world was erasing around him.

Remorseful, Guilty. That was how he felt at that very moment. He wished for a Time Turner so he could go back, rectify the mistake , the worst of all he had done. However, he cant, Impossible, He has to live with it. Remorse etched at his heart. Guilt gnawed like a worm at the core of an apple, making it impossible for him to put his self bacm together. The questions seems to never end, eaither they are eternal or on a loop, both around his head inside and out. He just wanted it all to stop, to finsh, he wished he could press his hands over his ears not hearing anymore pain. The Only thing he ever heard was from the person in the front row standing infront of him, which was his boss blondie with a sentence of "Johnny we trusted you!..." type. He was mad too, Just like all. The sweat beaded on his forehead and dripped from his chin, free flowing like condensation on a window pane. What could he say? What could he do? How would he explain? He cant, he doesnt even deserve to, its his fault since the start, it will always stay his fault. He analyze every action and speech and writhe in the agony of paths taken, he fret about what others will think of him, well now he knows why he was very concerned. The feelings his friends held for him hadnt gone, right? But Everything had now just been distorted into a close mimic of....'hatred'? He bundled all the hitting panic into his chest. Tension grew in his face and limbs, his mind replaying the last. more shallow. In these moments before his personal hurricane. He could feel it, building like an unstoppable snowball in the pit of his stomach. He cannot concentrate on anything else. Being alone while he is starting over and his whole world is crashing down. Everyone stayed shocked when the the hidden veracity was uncovered. And Jacque was No expection, Nobody was in a bigger denial than he was.

How could a truth be so cruel?

His heart felt like it was beating in a tight cage. He was connected to a part of johnny others never feel. His emotions are not perceptible, they are him, and they consumed him.

It was as if johnny heart had suddenly stopped beating and all the blood had run down into his boots.

When he saw two cops appear in the studio.

"No..."

His pupils couldnt be more dilated. How?!? When?!? The only question he knew an answer for was "why". But at that moment he didnt know that..someone called the police on him. He couldnt believe, they are here to get him, to take him, to arrest him. He wanted to jump right out of his skin and join the ether. This is too much, he cant take it anymore. The constricted feelings grew, as if he was strangled by just the air around him. He was terrified of whats going to happen the next second....Watching the rest of the police team emerge from behind, Made him feel the urge to run, escape, hide

This was the moment.

He took a step back to leave, but a wall still blocking his way, without a thought he toke the other road. Pushing people out of the path then running aimlessly. His brain in mental conflicting instructions, he hoped he was Trapped in his own psychosis, a living nightmare for him, tailor made by his own brain to play on her deepest fears. But sadly

You cant escape everytime.

He couldnt dodge the two men who held his trembling arms faster than lightning, immobilizing him painfully to the cold ground, it wasnt colder than the way his heart froze. As Police slapped on the handcuffs He was forcefully lifted up on his feet, With the limb he given he took heavy steps until the outside, he was familiar to these officers though he did not recognize them, it was time to take him to the ward. All the surrounding eyes watching their beloved oragnist led his way out of their lives. Nobody was able to shout for him a last word, maybe they had pushed him a little too hard....They did want to meet him or catch a glance of him before his finale departing, with a rush of footfalls after the officers under the dark sky in a hope for a change of events, those of course were just useless wishes. There was Only One person who dared enough to yell from behind, speaking for all.

"Stop he isnt what you think he is! I-i-i am sure there is some kind of mistake!" That was what jacque tried to persuide those 'harsh' officers, or more likely himself. Then out of expection, johnny turned around. "Tell them johnny! Tell them there is something wrong here!! Tell them this isnt you!!" But when their gazes intertwined like they never used to, the waves of regret hit them like a rock eroded by the sea. johnny had to turn around, sadly in words never wanted to be heard.

"This is the truth jacque.."

Those grey eyes bored into the lyrcist as if trying to convince him he wasnt lying. However, he still found it hard to believe. Johnny had always been so honest and telling, so he wondered why he didnt believe him now, he didnt want to, yet the burnette quivering lower lip begged him to believe, and his heart told him he would never lie to him. Johnny couldnt look into anyone eyes straightly anymore.

"...johnny?...." "..im sorry..." It was his last whisper, a whisper only the two cops and jacque could hear, before The officer in front opened the door with the 'criminal' dipping his head into the police cruiser, all out of balance before he is lost from view behind windows, apparently he doesnt warrant that. but behind him every curtain twitches. The damp evening disappeared with the slam of the door. Its not a fast run with flashing lights, just a slow ride to be questioned, to be prisoned. The blue and red lights are little more than smudgy illuminations in the slanting blackness.

Stakeout was over.

The mood of the people swirled in an unseen currents beneath the dark surface of their faces. And Jacque has never been in a deeper denial, but the truth is truth. He remained watching the car driving away with his love, Not caring about any kind of loud noises before him. The sadness drained through hum rather than skating over his skin. It travelled through every cell to reach the ground.

Oh, Why the world must be so cruel?

If only, if only This was just a nightmare of sorts, if this was just a bad vision. Tonight he wont only be broken, but shattered into fragments more numerous than the stars. He wanted to beg, plead, get down on hid knees and tell the leaving man that his life here had a meaning. He felt a division of his body and soul. The body wasnt dead, the soul in the other hand, wasnt the same condition. There was something deep feeling in his chest, something inexplicable. The grief surged with every expelled breath, always reaching higher peaks. His gaze fell to the ground. In that moment the sure knowledge that life would go on without him, that time was only stopped for him. there was nothing he could do. With no way to break through his silence a chasm opened between them. This could not be johnny. This could not be his life.

It hurts...but it can heal...He will heal, right? Well.

One this known for sure is that

He wont move on any time soon.

#brueklynn #jacque francis #johnny jonah

5 notes · View notes

tadmean-aa · 5 years

Text

YEP, HERE WE ARE FOLKS

so. this is a post i didn’t want to write, but here we are. if you’ve followed me for a while you know i don’t like drama / public discourse, but i genuinely have no other choice. i’ve tried to handle this privately to no avail. and while i’d appreciate the word being spread about this person, you’re welcome to block this post or blacklist the tags. i’m not here to tell you who to interact with or start a fight. i’m not here to discouse this or argue. the facts are the facts, and the facts are that this user has stolen from me repeatedly, even after being asked to stop, and has taken credit for intellectual property and an interpretation largely inspired by coping with trauma. massive drama under the cut. sorry folks. i’ve tagged it as ‘long post //’ as well for mobile users.

tl;dr? @cvffeinequeen (whats good?) ripped me off majorly. it’s driving me nuts. tw for ic abuse mention.

on one hand, i thought about not writing this because it’s literally just tumblr roleplay. on the other, writing coco this way, this very specific way, has been a way to cope with my own similar struggles, and the last straw was seeing this person getting credit for their “creativity”, aka the things they blatantly ripped from me. to see someone being praised by unknowing people for taking a story that i crafted from my own hurt, a story that they’ve gutted and repurposed so they can roleplay with it instead of coming up with something of their own, was the absolute final straw. not to mention that if they’ve stolen from me and gotten away with it, it’s not unlikely they’ve taken from other sources as well. maybe someone else will come forward, idk.

if any of the screenshots or links below are not conclusive enough, feel free to come to me and i will try to get you better ones / answer your questions. this is a long post, but i’m not about to call someone out for the first (and hopefully last) time without bringing some hard ass motherfuckin proof. my old blog (tadmean.tumblr.com, or tadmean-a.tumblr.com if the first doesn't work) is available multiple times on the wayback machine if you need to check some of these for yourself.

for context, i found this user in the coco adel tag through an edit. i always like to see duplicates (it gets lonely being the only coco), so i clicked the url to see what their blog was like and maybe follow if they were cool with that. immediately, something stank. on closer inspection, i realized their bio was ripped directly from mine and reworded—examples below. bear in mind that they have changed their blog background color since then, which is why some of the caps dont match the current blog; it used to be this shade of red (?), now it’s a brownish pinkish color. the bio has also since changed, but i’ve included the three different versions. i sent these screenshots to a close friend the night i found this blog, as well as to another friend a couple days later / a week maybe? so that’s why some of these are discord screenshots.

BIO POSTS: ( pt 1 ) ( pt 2 ) ( pt 3 ) ( pt 4 ) ( pt 5 ) ( pt 6 ) ( pt 7 ) ( pt 8 ) ( pt 9 ) ( pt 10 ) ( pt 11 )

screenshots in hand, i instant messaged them and let them know i saw what they were doing. screenshots below:

DM CONVO: ( pt 1 ) ( pt 2 ) ( pt 3 ) ( pt 4 ) ( pt 5 ) ( pt 6 ) ( pt 7 ) ( pt 8 )

NEW BIO AT THE TIME: ( pt 1 ) ( pt 2 ) ( pt 3 ) ( pt 4 ) ( pt 5 ) ( pt 6 ) ( pt 7 ) ( pt 8 ) ( pt 9 )

BIO AS OF NOW ( 11 / 29 / 18 ): ( PT 1 ) ( PT 2 ) ( PT 3 ) ( PT 4 ) ( pt 5 ) ( pt 6 ) ( pt 7 ) ( pt 8 ) ( pt 9 )

past this, we just agreed to be mutuals and that, i thought, was the end of it. sure, the bio wasn’t all that changed, but they’d seemed to realize the error of their ways and i was naively optimistic.

from here, it temporarily got better. then got way worse. whether it was formatting ( x, x ) ( x, x ), ( x, x ) the names of tags ( x, x ), ( x, x ), personalized tags ( x, x ), musings posts ( x, x ) ( x, x ) (these being just a few), etc. this user has mimicked my blog to a T. but this is all just context. the thing that i’m here to talk about, however, are headcanons. i started writing coco as a way to cope with my own trauma/abuse & personality disorders; it started from the thought that if a strong character like coco can manage it all, then so can i. and it’s not like we have a whole lot of canon content for coco that might lead people to the same conclusion about her life—coco is a character that has maybe? 30 mins to an hour (being very generous) of overall content? the things i’ve written about coco is not stuff you can conclude from her canon material. period. she’s essentially an oc based on five seconds of material. if you have any doubts, remember that: coco has essentially no canon content or backstory. almost everything on my blog is a headcanon. that said:

LIST OF A FEW STOLEN HEADCANONS:

stole coco’s troubled home life as an heiress ( x ) and how she runs away later in v4 ( x ). this is the biggest one.

coco’s father has been the main antagonist of her story (way before weiss’s bg was revealed, or jacques was really even a character). this person has not only ripped off coco’s bad home life, but ripped off her father being the particular antagonist ( x , x ). they’ve also mentioned the similarity to weiss’ story but i can’t find the post. however, because this is ripped off, there’s no reasoning for why he’s the worse of coco’s parents. this is a common theme with this person: they take a headcanon and remove the fat from it so it’s not as recognizable. this also removes the context and reasoning for the headcanon.

ripped off small bits and pieces off my page: like coco barely sleeping ( x , x ), often getting detention ( x, x ) (something that’s not mentioned in their bio), sweet tooth ( x , x ), scars ( x, x )

coco’s full name being something she only gives to people she trusts ( x , x ) or people who would have it off her record, since it’s a reminder of her family.

oh, the best one! i posted a headcanon post specifically to literally see if they would take anything from it, and they did! blatantly! here (hair hc: x , x ) and here ( x , x, x , x). a link to my post: x and theirs: ( x, x )

in their bio, they write that these are headcanons they’ve been writing for years. well, funny enough, lots of the things they’ve taken are things i posted and started writing about years ago. so i guess in a way, that was honest. throwback thursday!

let me be clear: if you’ve interacted with this person, or if you didn’t notice, or you noticed but didn’t say anything, you’re not the bad guy. in these situations, the bad guy is the thief. period. i realize to some people this might seem silly, but i’m extremely sick & disabled and cannot work or really do much of anything; writing coco convincingly and making her relatable has essentially been my job, my sole motivation, for these past 3-4 years. i’ve poured hard work into this interpretation, only for someone to come along, butcher it, and claim it as their own. to you, it’s not a big deal, but to me? it’s years of work, stolen.

i hate to make this post. i hate serious posts, i hate drama, i hate anything that might discourage someone else writing for coco. i love duplicates! i’ve never had any issues before! but this person isn’t roleplaying as coco; if anything, they seem to be roleplaying as a version of my blog. which, not cool but also, creepy.

so, yeah. please dont send anon hate their way, this person is still a minor. but being a minor doesnt make theft okay! apparently we still needed that said out here in the rpc. thanks for reading guys, peace

#call out post //#long post //#theft //#callout post //#ok to reblog #ooc.#drama //#is it ? idk

13 notes · View notes

runephoenix6769 · 6 years

Text

Raven Branwen’s Portals

We keep talking about Raven having portals to people she has an emotional connection to .

As Yang explains, “One to Dad, one to me and one to Uncle Qrow.”

But I think we tend to forget one more person.

(I watched the episode again just to make sure, and yup, Raven opens a portal, Ruby gets a fire blast, outsteps Cinder followed by Vernal. It’s safe to say that Raven doesnt have a connection to any of Salem’s faction, and it is in fact Vernal she has an emotional connection to.)

After the realisation that Raven does indeed have portals to other people, that Qrow, Yang and Tai are unaware of, it makes you wonder who else does she have portals to?

Would Raven have a portal to Ruby?

If she wasnt witness to Summer’s death it would be angsty and sad as fuck, if one day Raven attempted to make a portal to Summer only to have a 404 error code happen, or it brings her here..

What would be even angstier (and bittersweet) if she opened a portal to Summer only for it to open at the bedside of a very young and sleeping Ruby.

I’m really hoping that Raven does have one to Ruby, much to the shock of everyone else, and we get to see it in the future.

I’m also rather intrigued by the end of Vol 5.

Raven is evidently very emotional after her conversation with Yang in the vault.

But why does she do this?

It could be argued that the portal to Tai was her only means of escape, Vernal being dead, Yang in the vault and Qrow being upstairs. But if she does in fact have other portals to other people, why didnt she use them, why didnt she return to the Tribe?

Why did she specifically chose Tai as a destination.

I am assuming that once Tai finds out just exactly what predicament Raven has left Yang and the rest of the kids in, he is gonna be royally pissed, without a lick of sympathy for her and maybe start making moves towards taking action.

Maybe this visit is the catalyst that finally gets Taiyang into the fight/narrative.

It would be great to finally see a other parents , apart from Ghira and Kali, doing the right thing, and being a parent, rather than surrogate daddy Qrow doing everything.

(Arguably Jacques Schnee was being a parent but going the wrong way about it)

On the other hand, this visit could very well turn into a blazing argument between Raven and Tai, giving us snippets of info about what exactly happened between them all those years ago.

(Sidenote: Anyone else notice how Raven is always apologising out of Yang’s earshot.. She brusquely apologises when Yang and Weiss leave the tribe, and again when Yang collects the relic. Just bloody apologise where your daughter can hear you, you daft bint. It might make the world of difference.)

#raven branwen #taiyang xiao long #summer rose #qrow branwen #team strq #vernal #yang xiao long #ruby rose #rwby #long post

46 notes · View notes

allofbeercom · 6 years

Text

After the Circus by Patrick Modiano – extract

Read an exclusive extract from the Nobel prize winners mysterious, romantic classic set on Parisian streets filled with dreamy unease and quiet menace now available to English readers in a new translation by Mark Polizzotti

I was eighteen, and the man whose face I dont recall was typing up my legal status, address, and supposed student enrollment as fast as I could state them. He asked how I spent my free time.

I paused for a few seconds.

I go to movies and bookstores.

You dont just go to movies and bookstores.

He cited the name of a café. No matter how often I repeated that Id never set foot in the place, I could tell he didnt believe me. Finally, he contented himself with typing the following:

I go to movies and bookstores. I have never been to the Café de la Tournelle, at number 61 on the quay of that name.

Then more questions about my activities and my parents. Yes, I took literature courses at the university. There was no danger in telling him that lie: I really had enrolled in the program, but only to prolong my draft deferment. As for my parents, they were both abroad and I had no idea when theyd return, if ever.

Then he mentioned the names of a man and a woman and asked if I knew them. I answered no. He told me to think very carefully. If I didnt tell the truth, there could be serious consequences. The threat was delivered in a calm, indifferent voice. No, really, I didnt know those two individuals. He typed my answer, then handed me the sheet, at the bottom of which was written: Seen and agreed to. I didnt bother looking over my deposition and signed with a ballpoint pen that was lying on the desk.

Before leaving, I asked why Id had to submit to that interrogation.

Your name was in someones address book.

But he didnt say who that someone was.

Well be in touch if we need you again.

He saw me to the door of his office. In the hallway, on the leather bench, sat a girl of about twenty-two.

Youre next, he said to the girl.

She stood up. We exchanged glances. Through the door that hed left ajar, I saw her sit down in the same chair that Id occupied a moment earlier.

* * *

I found myself back on the quay. It was around five in the afternoon. I walked toward the Pont Saint-Michel, thinking that I might wait for the girl to come out after her interrogation. But I couldnt just loiter about police head-quarters. I decided to bide my time in the café on the corner of Boulevard du Palais, where it meets the quay. And what if she had gone in the opposite direction, toward the Pont-Neuf ? The thought never occurred to me.

I was seated near the window, my eyes fixed on the Quai des Orfèvres. Her interrogation lasted much longer than mine. Night had already fallen when I saw her walking toward the café.

As she was passing by, I tapped on the window with the back of my hand. She looked at me in surprise, then came inside to join me.

She sat down at my table as if we knew each other and had made a date. She was the first to speak.

Did they ask you a lot of questions?

My name was in someones address book.

Do you know who?

They wouldnt tell me. But maybe you can shed some light.

She knitted her brow.

Shed light on what?

I figured your name must have been in that address book, too, and they were questioning you about the same thing.

No. With me, it was just to give evidence.

She seemed preoccupied. It felt like she was slowly forgetting I was there. I kept silent. Then she smiled. She asked how old I was. I said twenty-one, making myself three years older: legal age, at the time.

Do you have a job?

I deal in used books, I said randomly, in a tone I tried to make convincing.

She looked at my face, no doubt wondering if she could trust me.

Will you do me a favor? she asked.

* * *

At Place du Châtelet, she wanted to take the metro. It was rush hour. We stood squeezed together near the doors. At every station, the riders getting off pushed us onto the platform. Then we got back on with the new passengers. She leaned her head on my shoulder and said with a smile that no one could find us in this crowd.

At the Gare du Nord metro stop, we were carried along in the flood of travelers heading for the commuter trains. We crossed through the train station lobby, and in the checkroom she opened a locker and pulled out a black leather suitcase.

I carried the suitcase, which was rather heavy. It occurred to me that it contained more than just clothes. The metro again, same line but in the opposite direction. This time we found seats. We got off at Cité.

At the end of the Pont-Neuf, we waited for the light to turn red. I was feeling increasingly anxious. I wondered how Grabley would greet us when we arrived at the apartment. Shouldnt I tell her about Grabley, so that his presence there wouldnt catch her off guard?

We walked past the Hôtel des Monnaies. I heard the clock on the Institut de France chime nine p.m.

Are you sure no one will mind if I come to your place? she asked.

Nope. No one.

There were no lights in the apartment windows facing the quay. Had Grabley gone to his room, on the courtyard side? Normally he parked his car in the middle of the little square that forms a recess between the Hôtel des Monnaies and the Institut, but it wasnt there.

I opened the door on the fourth floor and we walked through the foyer. We entered the room that had served as my fathers office. Light fell from a naked bulb dangling from the ceiling. No furniture left, except for an old couch with dark red leaf patterns.

I set the suitcase down next to the couch. She went to the window.

You have a nice view . . .

To the left was one end of the Pont des Arts and the Louvre. Directly in front, the tip of Ile de la Cité and the small Vert-Galant park.

We sat on the couch. She looked around her and seemed amazed by the sparseness of the room.

Are you moving out?

I told her that, unfortunately, we had to vacate the premises in a month. My father had gone to Switzerland to live out his days.

Why Switzerland?

It really was too long a story for that evening. I shrugged. Grabley would be back any minute. How would he react when he saw the girl and her suitcase? I was afraid he would call my father in Switzerland, and that the latter, in a last gasp of parental dignity, would try to play the noble paterfamilias, lecture me about my studies and endangered future. But he was wasting his time.

Im tired . . .

I suggested she lie down on the couch. She hadnt removed her raincoat. I remembered that the heating no longer worked.

Are you hungry? I can go get something from the kitchen . . .

She sat on the couch, legs folded under her, resting on her heels.

Dont go to any trouble. Maybe just something to drink . . .

The light in the foyer had gone off. The bow window in the wide front hall leading to the kitchen lit the room with pale glimmers, as if there were a full moon out. Grabley had left the light on in the kitchen. In front of the old dumbwaiter stood an ironing board on which I recognized the trousers of his glen plaid suit. He ironed his own shirts and other clothes. On the folding table, where I sometimes took my meals with him, was an empty yogurt jar, a banana peel, and a packet of instant coffee. He must have eaten in. I found two yogurts, a slice of salmon, some fruit, and a bottle of whiskey three-quarters empty. When I returned, she was reading one of the magazines that Grabley had let pile up for several weeks on the office mantelpiece, risqué periodicals, as he called them, for which he had a great fondness.

I set the tray down in front of us, on the floor.

She had left the magazine open next to her and I could make out the black-and-white photo of a naked woman, seen from behind, hair tied in a ponytail, left leg extended, right leg bent, her knee resting on a mattress.

Interesting reading matter youve got . . .

No, those arent mine . . . They belong to a friend of my fathers.

She bit into an apple and poured herself some whiskey.

What have you got in that suitcase? I asked.

Oh, nothing much . . . Some personal effects . . .

It was heavy. I thought it was stuffed with gold bricks.

She gave me a sheepish smile. She explained that she lived in a house not far from Paris, near Saint-Leu-la-Forêt, but the owners had come back unexpectedly last night. She preferred to leave, as she didnt really get along with them. Tomorrow she would go to a hotel, until she could find a permanent place to live.

You can stay here as long as you like.

I was sure that Grabley, after his initial surprise, would have no objections. As for my father, what he thought no longer mattered.

Are you getting sleepy?

I intended to give her the upstairs bedroom. I would sleep on the office couch.

I led the way, suitcase in hand, up the small inner staircase to the fifth floor. The room was as sparsely furnished as the office. A bed shoved against the back wall. The nightstand and bedside lamp were gone. I switched on the fluorescent lights in the two display cases, on either side of the fireplace, where my father kept his collection of chess pieces, although these had disappeared, along with the small Chinese armoire and the fake Monticelli canvas that had left a discoloration on the sky-blue paneling. I had consigned those three objects to an antiques dealer, a certain DellAversano, for him to sell.

Is this your room? she asked.

Yes.

I had set the suitcase in front of the fireplace. She went to the window, like before, in the office.

If you look all the way to the right, I told her, you can see the statue of Henri IV and the Tour Saint-Jacques.

She gazed distractedly at the rows of books between the two windows. Then she lay down on the bed and removed her shoes with a casual flick of her foot. She asked where I was going to sleep.

Downstairs on the couch.

Stay here, she said. I dont mind.

She had kept on her raincoat. I turned off the lights in the display cases. I lay down next to her.

Doesnt it feel cold to you?

She moved closer and gently rested her head on my shoulder. Lights and shadows shaped like window grates slid across the walls and ceiling.

Whats that? she asked.

The tour boat passing by.

* * *

Photograph: Gamma-Keystone via Getty Images

I awoke with a start. The front door had slammed.

She was lying against me, nude inside her raincoat. It was seven in the morning. I heard Grableys footsteps. He was making a phone call in the office. His voice grew louder and louder, as if he was arguing with someone. Then he left the office and went into his room.

She woke up as well and asked what time it was. She told me she had to be going. She had left some belongings in the house in Saint-Leu-la-Forêt and wanted to collect them as soon as possible.

I offered her breakfast. There was still some instant coffee in the kitchen and one of the boxes of Choco BN biscuits that Grabley always bought. When I returned to the fifth floor with the tray, she was in the large bathroom. She emerged, dressed in her black skirt and pullover sweater.

She said she would call me early that afternoon. She didnt have any paper on which to jot down my number. I took a book from the shelves and tore out the flyleaf, on which I wrote my name, address, and phone number: DANTON 55-61. She folded the paper in four and shoved it in one of her raincoat pockets. Then her lips brushed mine and she said in a low voice that she was grateful and was looking forward to seeing me again.

She walked along the quay toward the Pont des Arts.

I stood at the window for a few minutes, watching her distant silhouette cross the bridge.

I stashed the suitcase in the storage closet at the top of the stairs. I laid it flat on the floor. It was locked. I lay down again and breathed in her scent from the hollow of one of the pillows. She would eventually tell me why theyd questioned her yesterday afternoon. I tried to recall the names of the two people the detective had mentioned, asking whether I knew them. One of them sounded something like Beaufort or Bousquet. In whose address book had they found my name? Was he just trying to get information about my father? Hed asked which foreign country my father had gone to. I had covered his tracks by answering Belgium.

The week before, I had accompanied my father to the Gare de Lyon. He was wearing his old navy blue overcoat and his only luggage was a leather bag. We were early, and we waited for the Geneva train in the large restaurant on the upper level, from which we overlooked the lobby and railway tracks. Was it the late afternoon light? The golden hue on the ceiling? The chandeliers that shone down on us? My father suddenly seemed old and tired, like someone who has been playing cat and mouse for far too long and is about to give up.

The only book he brought with him for the trip was called The Hunt. He had recommended it to me several times, because the author mentioned our apartment, where hed lived twenty years earlier. What a strange coincidence . . . Hadnt my fathers life, in certain periods, resembled a hunt in which he was the prey? But so far, hed managed to elude his captors.

We were facing each other over our coffee. He was smoking, cigarette dangling from the corner of his lips. He talked about my schooling and my future. As he saw it, it was all well and good to want to write novels, as I intended, but it was safer to earn a few diplomas. I kept quiet, listening to him. Words like diplomas, stable situation, profession sounded odd in his mouth. He pronounced them with respect and a kind of nostalgia. After a while, he fell silent, exhaled a cloud of smoke, and shrugged.

We didnt exchange another word until he climbed onto the train and leaned out the lowered window. I had remained on the platform.

Grabley will live with you in the apartment. Afterward, well make a determination. Youll have to rent someplace else.

But he had said it without any conviction. The train for Geneva lurched forward, and at that moment it felt as if I were seeing that face and that navy blue coat pull away forever.

At around nine oclock, I went down to the fourth floor. I had heard Grableys footsteps. He was sitting on the office couch in his plaid bathrobe. Next to him was a tray carrying a cup of tea and a Choco BN. He hadnt shaved and his features were drawn.

Good morning, Obligado . . .

He called me by that nickname because of a friendly wager wed had. One evening, we had arranged to meet in front of a cinema on Avenue de la Grande-Armée. He had told me to get off at the Obligado metro stop. The stop was really called Argentine, but he refused to believe it. We had made a bet, which Id won.

I only got two hours sleep last night. I made my rounds.

He stroked his blond mustache and squinted.

Same places as usual?

The very ones.

His rounds invariably started at eight oclock at the Café des Deux Magots, where he had an aperitif. Then he crossed over to the Right Bank and stopped at Place Pigalle. He stayed in that neighborhood until dawn.

And what about you, Obligado?

I put a girlfriend up last night.

Does your father know?

No.

You should ask him if its all right. Im sure Ill be getting a call.

He imitated my father when he wanted to appear serious and responsible, but it rang even less true than the original.

And what sort of young lady is she?

His face took on the unctuous expression with which he suggested, every Sunday morning, that I go to Mass with him.

First of all, shes not a young lady.

Is she pretty?

I saw on his face the smug, flattering smile of the traveling salesman in some random station bar who over a beer tells you how he got lucky.

My girlfriend last night wasnt too bad either . . .

His tone became aggressive, as if we were suddenly in competition. I no longer remember what I felt at the time, with that seated man, in the empty office that looked as if it had been vacated at a moments notice, its furniture and paintings pawned or repossessed. He was my fathers stand-in, his factotum. They had met when very young on a beach on the Atlantic coast, and my father had corrupted this petty bourgeois Frenchman. For thirty years, Grabley had lived in his shadow. The only habit he retained from his childhood and good upbringing was to attend Mass every Sunday.

Will you introduce me to your girlfriend?

He gave me a complicit wink.

We could even go out together, if you like . . . Im fond of young couples.

I pictured us, her and me, in Grableys car as it crossed over the Seine and headed toward Pigalle. A young couple. One evening Id accompanied him to the Deux Magots, before he headed off on his usual rounds. We were sitting near the windows. I had been surprised to see him greet in passing a couple of about twenty-five: the woman blonde and very graceful, the man dark and overly elegant. He had even gone to talk to them, standing next to their table, while I watched from my seat. Their age and appearance marked such a sharp contrast with Grableys old-world manners that I wondered what fluke could have brought them together. The man seemed amused by what Grabley was saying, but the woman was more detached. Taking his leave, Grabley had shaken the mans hand and given the woman a ceremonious nod. When we left, he introduced them to me, but Ive forgotten their names. Then hed told me that the young man was a very useful contact and that hed met him during his rounds in Pigalle.

You seem pensive, Obligado . . . Are you in love?

He had gotten up and was standing in front of me, hands in the pockets of his bathrobe.

I need to spend all day at the office. I have to sift through the paperwork from seventy-three and move it out.

That was an office my father had rented on Boulevard Haussmann. I often used to go meet him there at the end of the afternoon. A corner room with a very high ceiling. Daylight entered through four French windows overlooking the boulevard and Rue de lArcade. Filing cabinets against the walls and a massive desk with an assortment of inkwells, blotters, and a writing case.

What did he do there? Each time, I would find him on the telephone. After thirty years, I happened across an envelope, on the back of which was printed the name of an ore refining company, the Société Civile dEtudes et Traitements de Minerais, 73 Boulevard Haussmann, Paris 8.

You and your girlfriend can come pick me up at seventy-three. Well go have dinner together . . .

I dont think shes free this evening.

He seemed disappointed. He lit a cigarette.

Well, anyway, call me at seventy-three to let me know your plans . . . Id love to meet her . . .

I was thinking I had to keep a bit of distance, or else wed have him on our backs nonstop. But Ive never been very good at saying no.

This is an extract from After the Circus by Patrick Modiano, published on 21 January by Yale University Press at £10.99. Visit the Guardian Bookshop to preorder it for £8.79.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/after-the-circus-by-patrick-modiano-extract/

0 notes

bonbonswirl-blog · 5 years

Text

Recipe. Part 1

ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO @brueklynn I OWN NOTHING, this is so short it doesnt even deserve to be splited but tumblr being stupid I had to im srry ;^; guys this is a COMPLETLY DUMB fanfic please dont take it in any serious way XD take it as a joke plz, the logic here is gone Enjoy but you cant thx lol.

It was an ordinary morning today. Expect that johann and monroe where hiding behind a bush, standing before the amazing 'belief pioneer' studios that produced the famous cartoon "jokey and pals". They always wondered about how some animated humanized insects allured that much viewers. But lately, they heard that there is a secret recipe made of magic used in making those facsinating show episodes, that concept made them so curious to have a glance at that whatever is that special recipe. However, their plan to do so was to kidnap someone from the studio employees and interrigate him to disclose the obscure method. All they did was stay out of sight and monitor the studio door, waiting for someone to come out, They waited a lot and nobody came, it was starting to be boring. Until eventually, monroe saw the studio open, which made him shake johann who woke up in confusion looking right and left. "JOHANN JOHANN LOOK!!" " WOAHWOAHWOAH .....What..?" "Were You Sleeping!?!" "What? NO! I was just resting my eyes! Anyway what did you want me to see?" "Look!!" Monroe pointed happiky to a worker who stepped out from that place, walking while humming a tone. He had a wide black hair and mustach, wearing a small hat, he looked like a friendly french man, he was holding a paper and a pencil in his hands. " Thats Our chance! You hush him while I tie him up with the ropes~" "pff- Whatever." Johann rolled his eyes. Jacque was reading the lyrics paper again, imagining how entrancing the melody will be when its played by the chorus, his hum had a happiness, there is something carefree about the notes as they fall into the fresh air around. He leans on his hands, checking for a last time if all the words are written right. But he was so into the lyrics he didnt notice that someone was sneaking after him from behind. Before he could take another step, johann attacked him and made sure his mouth is kept shut, stifled sounds only came out, eyes fly wide and brain cant get to function. With the increasing pressure and streckin silent panic, monroe apeared in front of him and attached the ropes around him, the next thing jacque knew was that he was being blindfolded and carried away to an unknown place.

When he was able to see again, everything was so strange, he was in a dark room, nothing eviding. For all he knew he could be deep underground, in some random room in an isolated prison or even in the highest level of a skyscraper. He jerked upright, panicked, but his body refused to move. He looked down and saw the same ropes still wrapped around him, chaining him to the wall In a sitting position. His mouth wasnt taped or bound anymore. He craned his neck for a window, there was none, that would explain the darkness here. Suddenly a flash of light blew on his pale face, he jumped a little with the only slack he had, he was blinded for some moments before being able to see again, in the almost blackness his eyes strained for some sign of what was to come. He knew who did this, he didnt want to see their faces, so would leave it to the Police to identify the two kidnapers. But he had to open his eyes and see them. They stared at him for a moment and smirked. Though their tastes were a little different, monroe had got what he wanted. The dim light made jacque his skin sparkle and glow. He felt an odd coldness on his tongue, and brought his breathing back under control. "Welcome to our lair fella~" "W-W-What?!" "No need to panic again, we are just here to ask you a simple question~" Jascue gulped while starting to sweat, this is not going to be a good conversation..." You are one of the workers in that pretty 'belief pioneer' studio arent you?~" "uh..haha.." "so do you love that silly cartoon show that the studio produce? Because all the children love 'jokey and pals' dont they?" "Uhh..yeh!..yeh yeh..." "so you see...have you ever wondered about how did this show get that much success?" "....umm...hard work?...." "Wrong, Recently we both did some researches regarding your little victory in making those children pining for those comedian figures. Finally, we found out about your secret, you use some magical recipe in every single thing used in making any episode. " Jascue was shut. Magical recipe? Really? That was their researches? He is sure they heard it by some strangers passing at the streets. "...Uh...What? What do you m-" "DONT act like you dont know what I mean." He paused, giving jacque a knowing look. Whom exhaled through his nose trying to bring back his tranquility. Monroe stared at him silently, as if debating whether to electrocute him, or dig a sharp into his skin or even worse. jacque nodded to himself, already knowing he will get a punishment if not speaking something. He is fine. He will be fine. But what is he going to say? Will he just lie for them? He have a recioe from his mind now, will he have enough time to imvite it right now in front of two kidnappers? "WHAT IS THE RECIPE?!!?!" Monroe repeated sternly. Jacque felt coldness envelope him, but no darkness came. "I......I-I-I dont know!" "What do you mean you dont know?! Dont you work there?!" "I-I-I am just the lyricist!! All I do is writing kids songs!" "Well didnt I say that this special recipe is used is EVERY small thing used in making the episodes? In sure that you use it in every song you invite. So tell me how does it work?" "Sir I-I dont really know where did you get that idea from. But you have to believe me, there is No secret magical recipe used in making any episode..." "well then whats your secret in making good songs?" "Oh...thats...probably because Im very inspired and...I love my work? When you love your work you can do anything!" Monroe lost his patience which made him pull something from his bag, making jacque fear come true, he was threated with a knife pointed to him, he squirmed and whimpered, his guts froze solid, when will friends notice he is absent? When will the police come and save him?

#brueklynn #monroe gooder #johann drew #jacque francis

2 notes · View notes