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allthingseurope · 1 year

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Josselin, France by Guy_D_2018

#josselin #france #brittany #bretagne #europe #travel #travel blog #europe travel

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donlegitimo · 1 year

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#josselin #andre josselin #photographer #photography #denim #charleenweiss

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hankdali · 3 months

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#josselin #original photography #photography #black and white #bw #bw photography #beautiful #photographer

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marketingsentimental · 7 months

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#IFTTT #Flickr #andre #josselin #leica #mood #q2

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postcard-from-the-past · 2 months

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Beaufort Mills in Josselin, Brittany region of France

French vintage postcard

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life-spire · 1 year

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Josselin, France (by Lucía Garó)

See more of France | Europe.

#josselin #france #europe #travel #wanderlust #explore #streetscape #laneway #street #street photography #travel photography #village #townscape #historic architecture #buildings #architecture #li_destinations

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vincentreproches · 4 months

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Je vote 22

#affiche #parti socialiste #josselin #Briand #tremel #darcel #chouat #dollo

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thestoneheart · 9 months

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Poor Company

For the third time in as many days Gaheriet stared across a desk at Josselin Marin and contemplated throttling him. On good days he liked to think he was a patient man, but Gaheriet had left good days behind about four days ago. The desk wasn’t his, and a better man might have managed not to feel anything about the fact that he was calling this man into his Captain’s office for a lecture because the Captain wasn’t bloody well here to do it himself.

For a moment they stared at each other across that expanse of polished wood, over another man’s neatly arranged possessions. Gaheriet stood behind the chair rather than sitting in it, more out of the need to be on his feet rather than any misplaced respect for its absent owner. Josselin stared back at him, chin lifted, his pale blue eyes smoldering with resentment.

He might have been a good looking man, Gaheriet thought, studying the fine bones of his face under their pale skin, if he’d ever bothered to try. His snowy hair was the only thing in the room paler than that fine skin and if he’d bothered to do more than what looked like running a hand through it and tying the laziest tail at his nape he might have managed to look like someone’s idea of a soldier. And if…

But Gaheriet stopped that line of thought in its tracks. He folded his arms across his chest and watched the way the smaller man across the desk tensed at the movement. Tensed but did not let himself flinch, he noted. Josselin’s chin lifted higher. Silence hung between them and Gaheriet was tempted to see how long it might take before Josselin would break it. But he did not have the luxury of a day to spend playing games of stubbornness with a man who seemed to prize that skill above all else.

He eyed the bruise forming on Josselin’s cheek for a moment. Skin like that showed every mark of the man’s latest barracks brawl. He might have charted the last three days of idiocy on his arms if he had cared to. Gaheriet let out a breath. “I assume you know why I called you in here again.”

“Because that bastard Guy ran his stupid face into my fist again?” Josselin asked with an infuriating little smirk.

Gaheriet managed not to snarl but it was a near thing. “I heard how it started. You goaded him. You do nothing but deliberately stir up trouble and it would serve you right if I let the lot of them beat you bloody. This cannot continue. You have to stop.” He shoved the chair aside with a foot and planted his hands flat on the top of the desk to remind him to keep his temper.

“I have to stop what? Living? Existing? Talking?”

“If you can’t open your mouth without being an insufferable little shit then yes, try the not talking!”

“I’m sure you’d like that wouldn’t you. Country boys ought to be seen and not heard and all that, right? Offend all you highborn sorts with my lack of fancy manners. Not enough la-di-da for any of you. Well you can just suck it Ser Gaheriet bluest of bloods Rosaire. Because I don’t have to shut my mouth to suit any of you. You can all suffer the way I talk and the way I take my tea and you can live with it or you can go cry into your velvet fucking pillows. I don’t care…”

“No, you don’t, do you?” Gaheriet asked, keeping himself low and quiet despite the urge to come over the desk and close his hands around the idiot’s throat. “You don’t care. And you don’t bloody well understand it either.”

“Understand what? Why a bunch of soldiers got to have drawing room manners?”

Gaheriet’s palm hit the desk hard enough that the sharp sound of it rang through the small room and the sting of it made itself felt the length of his arm. He wasn’t sure he liked the part of himself that was pleased when Josselin flinched. “It’s not about the fucking manners.” He snarled. “That’s what you don’t understand!” He was shouting and he had not a doubt the room outside was getting an earful; the trouble was he no longer cared. “This is your company! You live and die by these men and if you were smart you’d be trying to make sure they didn’t all prefer it was ‘die’!”

Something flickered in those defiant eyes that for a moment was so stricken Gaheriet almost wished he had not said the last words. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared. So swiftly he doubted he had even seen it.

Josselin’s jaw was tight when he spoke. “And how the hell am I meant to do that. You’re the one who doesn’t get it. You don’t…” But there he stopped. “Hells with you!”

“Hells with you too.” Gaheriet snapped. “Try not being obnoxious. Not sure if you can manage that for more than half a bell but give it a go. This is the third damned time this week, Marin. You’re disordering the whole company. Next time it will have to be a flogging. You don’t want that. Now get the hell out of…” Not his office, he recalled. “My sight.”

#Gaheriet #Josselin #Backstory stuff #My writing #Things by which we live and die

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coffeenuts · 1 year

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