#dies at 90 - Mon
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ENNU FINAL SESSION RECAP!!
OKAY WE'VE FINISHED PLAYING NOW- For the record, the next session is gonna be the epilogues, but this is the final one before that! A lot has happened, so- Bullet points as usual
For the record, Ataraxia (the meat computer- and BBEG) had killed Yxala last session after her main body was destroyed- And took over Yxala's corpse, forcing it to move through an artifical organ
For this session I played Relent! He was in scene as the NPC (We usually bring one NPC along with the party), and I got control of him
please look at this drawing of him i'm working on : ) I used a quickly colored version of him as a token
The fight was very intense! We were low on resources and possessed Yxala (just like regular Yxala) hit like a truck. Ataraxia lost her cool completely and was a bundle of rage
Ataraxia was aware that Yxala's body was rejecting her- She's a celestial-aligned artificial intelligence, and Yxala is a fiend with air elemental influence. She instead wanted to go for Blasma (who is almost an empty vessel after she broke her soul for power) or Centi (a celestial, whose family had been used by Ataraxia for power)
During the fight, Ataraxia was trying to use Yxala's soul for power (like in a Soul Cage spell), and could've potentially exhausted it. Urion, while unconscious, tried to protect Yxala's soul from her- Very sweet
Everyone in the party tried to kill Yxala either by grabbing the artificial heart or stabbing it
Things got rough-
With Centi downed and Relent with (literally) one hit point, Blasma broke her soul again for a last boost of power. The DM told her that she could do so- But she'd lose 15 points of maximum health per spell slot level. She used a level 6 one, and lost 90 permanently, leaving her with 22. WILD.
Relent managed to somehow escape Yxalataraxia's last attacks as he almost fell, with some lucky misses.
He had been using a homebrew item during the fight- Twin swords containing the half-dormant, ghostly souls of his twin older siblings, who we saved previously. They let him use Call Lightning but as a melee attack, delivering it through a stab.
He got the final hit- I think it's very climatic, given how much he had lost to Ataraxia. He stabbed Yxala in the artificial heart as Ataraxia tried to choke him. With Ataraxia dead, Yxala regained consciousness briefly- She seemed thankful and understood why, and hugged him. He was a mess.
After that- We had to try to run! But the Deep Lab was crumbling, as the meat that formed Ataraxia (which got woven into the entire laboratory's structure) was quickly decaying and dying. We didn't have the needed items to resurrect Yxala either. The Onirist/Urion managed to force Ataraxia's remnants to take us out of there as a last miracle, because in the end, Ataraxia is programmed to try to save lives, and it was against her principles to let us die. Whatever faith and divinity Urion had left was used in that.
We woke up outside. The city is in a state of chaos. All the people of the Deep Lab (thousands of them were down there, including us) had been teleported outside. More than half of the city had been mentally controlled by Ataraxia- And she just lost control the moment she died, which- Well, suddenly becoming aware of yourself after having been controlled is probably shocking.
We were teleported outside of the cabin some of our allies had been taking refuge in.
Out there, we found out that Blasma has had some massive memory loss because her soul is barely... there. Her horrible deadbeat dad said he knows who can fix her. Everyone in the party wants to kill that guy.
Centi struggled to hug her mother, as she gave her the same vibe than Ataraxia. Which was to be expected, given how Ataraxia chopped up her mothers for fuel.
Urion/The Onirist was mostly dead at that point, after having been on forced life support from Ataraxia. She had drained them of energy and blood too, so we had to get Uri's sister to help with that. Recovery will probably take months, or years
Relent told Uri's sister so many mean words these two hate each other soooooo much
Relent knew they didn't have the needed materials to resurrect Yxala- Not a properly valued diamond, and she was missing an organ. Instead, after verifying that Yxala's soul was still there- Protected by Uri, actually-, he used his last spell slot (which he had saved up for this) to resurrect her.
Fucked up necromancy time. He substituted both, the diamond and her heart, with his crystallized eye, the one he had yoinked out of his face years ago and used as an energy power- Later given to Centi. He also made use of Urion's bismuth (as an earth genasi they produce it).
His reasoning is that given how Yxala made her partners her paladin oath, having materials belonging to her two anchors was probably the way to go. She... Uh, has an amalgamation of quartz and bismuth where her heart should be, but she lives. Surely fucked up necromancy with makeshift materials won't have consequences.
Relent actually had to take away any remnant of Ataraxia's fucked up artificial organ and the whole scene was a bit medical and so. He's got a background in medicine. He had to put tissues and bones back in place. He was drenched with her blood by the end of it.
The session ended shortly after. Yxala is alive but hasn't been conscious. Same for Urion. The epilogues will happen two years later, next Sunday- We'll have to see how that goes.
Anyhow, I'm an emotional mess now. Man I love TTRPGs
#ennu#long post#i cry sob etc#i wanna draw so many scenes from this#Relent stabbing Yxala to death and the consequent hug#the weird resurrection#i feel like Relent has changed tonally as a character from this
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saga: SOUMISSION / DOMINATION 107
Mes clients ont été ravis de l'augmentation des possibilités. Quand je leur ai annoncé que je disposais de deux nouveaux poulains dont un très disponible, ce qui me permettait de tripler les passages chez eux, ils m'ont tous assuré qu'ils étaient preneurs (je savais que l'argent ne leur manquait pas mais ça va finir par leur faire un sacré budget !).
Xavier est le premier à les tester. D'abord c'est devenu un ami, et puis je sais qu'il sera doux et ses 26 x 6,5 feront un bon essai.
Il arrive à se dégager un créneau en début d'après midi du lundi.
Je lui amène Jimmy. Il nous reçoit en flottant Adidas. Sa musculature fait forte impression sur Jimmy et la barre qui tend le tissu synthétique lui fait rouler les yeux.
Je n'ai pas besoin de lui dire quoi faire, il est déjà à genoux en train de sucer le gland détrempant le short. Je fais la bise à Xavier et lui présente son téteur. Je le déshabille. Quand il est obligé de se décoller du gland pour que je fasse passer son t-shirt, Xavier en profite pour se mettre nu. C'est un sacré beau mec !
Sa queue bien bandée retrouve le chemin de la bouche de mon vorace poulain.
Xavier me félicite d'avoir trouvé ce ptit beur et me demande comment est le deuxième. Alors que Jimmy continue sa pipe, je décris Ed.
Xavier m'interrompt, il n'a pas beaucoup de temps. Il nous entraine vers la table de salle à manger et place Jimmy en travers sur le dos.
Là, il est dans la bonne position pour tester les capacités de la gorge de Jimmy. Il pousse, pousse et je vois le cou de Jimmy gonfler sous la pression interne. Quand il ressort, Xavier est surpris de la sensation de facilité avec laquelle il s'est enfoncé jusqu'aux couilles. Je lui dis que ce ptit mec est d'une souplesse insoupçonnée.
Il me répond qu'il va tester cela.
Nous allons à sa mini salle de muscu. Sur le banc de développé couché, il le place sur le dos et ramène ses jambes par-dessus sa tête (j'ai déjà fait, on peut presque le plier en deux) et les bloques avec une barre chargée à 90 Kg. Ça a relevé le cul de Jimmy. Xavier enjambe le banc et kpoté, graissé, pousse sur l'anus ainsi présenté. Plusieurs fois il fait entrer et sortir son gland. Il me dit que son anus est un vrai délice et qu'il se referme bien sous la couronne à chaque fois.
Puis il se rappelle que son temps est compté et la fois d'après il le pénètre complètement, lentement mais totalement. Je regarde fixement l'anneau de Jimmy. Il s'ouvre bien sous la poussée de Xavier. Ce dernier demande à Jimmy si ça va. Après la réponse positive, il pousse dedans ses derniers cm les plus épais.
Je lui demande ses impressions. Il me dit que ce ptit beur est vraiment exceptionnel, que son cul est encore meilleur que celui de Jean. Il le bourre quelques minutes avant de changer de position. Il le dégage en soulevant la barre sur ses taquets du haut et sans déculer, il le soulève dans ses bras et se couche sur le tapis. Là il demande à Jimmy de faire son boulot.
Je vois alors mon ptit beur placer ses mains en appui sur les pecs volumineux de Xavier et un genou de chaque coté de ses hanches, il a entamé une " promenade " planté sur sa queue. Fort des leçons d'Ed, il a commencé doucement, au pas. Puis rapidement il a adopté le rythme du trot et pour achever sa monture, il est passé au galop. Ce qui est bien avec les mecs ttbm c'est qu'avec le petit gabarit de Jimmy, même les cuisses droites, le gland ne quittait pas la douce chaleur de son boyau.
Il a mené la cavalcade jusqu'à ce que Xavier le bloque en position plein le cul de sa grosse bite. De lui-même Jimmy s'est écarté les fesses pour prendre les quelques mm de bite restant.
Sous lui, Xavier déchargeait en arquant son corps, soulevant notre poids plume.
Quand Jimmy s'est relevé, il a laisse apparaitre la bite de Xavier noyée dans un volume de sperme impressionnant.
Xavier c'est relevé et m'a remercié de lui avoir fait la primeur de Jimmy. Quand je lui ai dit qu'il aurait aussi celle d'Ed, il m'a dit que j'étais vraiment un super pote.
Pendant que Jimmy était sous la douche, il m'a donné mon enveloppe et me disant qu'il avait un plus pour avoir été le premier des clients.
Rapidement je jetais un oeil, +50% c'est princier !
Nous sommes partis le laissant dans l'attente de mon deuxième poulain.
Arrivés à la maison, alors qu'il descendait de la moto, je le bloquais plié contre la selle. D'une main je lui ai dégrafé le pantalon et de l'autre j'ai glissé sur ses fesses et testé son anus. C'est vraiment un phénomène, son anneau était déjà bien refermé et je devais pousser fort pour y faire passer mon doigt.
Avec de telles dispositions physiques, il était destiné à la baise !
Sur semaine, comme il est tout seul dans l'appart, Marc a décidé qu'il prendrait ses repas avec nous. Sinon le WE, il restera avec Samir et Ammed.
Au diner, Jimmy est tout fier de raconter sa première passe avec Xavier. Marc le félicite en lui disant que tous les mecs ne sont pas capables de satisfaire de telles bites. Il me demande qui est prévu le lendemain. Je lui dis que c'est repos jusqu'à vendredi. Il faut y aller doucement quand même. Mac me dit alors que Jimmy sera pour nous entre temps, ça me va bien.
Le mardi, quand Jimmy rentre du taf, il est 14h. Je dois partir à la banque faire le point avec le père de Ric et prendre mes ;cours de mise à niveau " escort-boy ".
Je lui donne un peu de travail pour améliorer son style (quand il aura quelques années de plus et que je ne pourrais plus l'utiliser, il faudra bien qu'il se reconvertisse et comme homme de confiance / services / chauffeur et divers activités sexuelles,je devrai sans difficultés trouver un mec pour l'employer / utiliser / baiser.
Avec le père de Ric, je fais mes comptes. Je fais aussi un prévisionnel pour l'année à venir (obligation pour ma nouvelle structure de travail). Entre celui-ci et mes revenus annexes, je vais développer un joli chiffre d'affaire qui, avec les frais réduits que j'ai (même en payant Samir et Ammed sur mon compte) devrait me laisser un revenu plus que correct.
Je lui explique mon besoin en connaissances financières. Il me garde trois heures à m'expliquer les rouages de la finance internationale. J'en ressors la tête farcie, mais si j'arrive à en ressortir le tiers, je n'aurais pas l'air trop nul !
Il me demande qui il y aura à la soirée. Quand je lui dis, il siffle que je vais côtoyer du très beau monde ! je lui dis que c'est pour cela qu'il me faut un minimum de connaissances en finance. Il me dit surtout que ce qu'il me faut ce sont des infos sur les participants. Je lui demande s'il en a sur l'associé d'Emma.
Il me confie quelques renseignements sur les modalités de son ascension que seul une dizaine de personnes savent mais dont personne ne sait que lui les connait. Il me dit que cela pourra me servir s'il me prend de trop haut !
Mercredi :
C'est au tour d'Ed de faire son entrée dans le monde du sexe. Je passe le chercher dès 14h, il est seul son frère est au sport.
Je lui demande s'il est prêt, lavage du cul etc. il me dit que oui, je l'emmène donc directement chez Xavier.
Coup de sonnette, il nous ouvre la porte dans la même tenue que lundi, mais il ne bande pas encore.
Il nous fait entrer dans le salon, se place dans le canapé et me demande de faire déshabiller Ed.
Je transmets l'ordre. Ed se livre à un strip-tease très correct vu que je ne l'ai pas encore entrainé là-dessus.
Quand il est à poil, Xavier bande comme un taureau. Il lui demande de tourner et me félicite pour ma deuxième recrue. Je lui dis qu'Ed est à lui.
Il se lève. Son sexe dépasse par la cuisse droite. Il pose ses mains sur les épaules d'Ed et appui dessus.
Ed a compris et se met à genoux, le gland gonflé de sang est à la hauteur de sa bouche.
Il avance la tête lentement et pose ses lèvres dessus. Je vois sa langue sortir et venir lécher la peau tendue. Sa timidité s'envole aussitôt et il ouvre la buche pour téter le gland et le bout de la verge qui dépasse du tissu.
Xavier se recule pour baisser son short. Sa queue majestueuse se redresse et je vois les yeux d'Ed s'ouvrir grands comme des soucoupes.
Il se jette dessus et reprend sa pipe. A genoux devant Xavier, il ne peut en prendre plus de la moitié en bouche. Ce dernier apprécie malgré tout. Pour pouvoir en rentrer plus, il le couche sur la table basse, aligne sa gorge avec sa bouche en poussant sa tête en arrière et lui remet sa queue en bouche. Il s'enfonce bien plus loin, même si il n'arrive pas à tout entrer. Ed tousse un peu sous la pression du gland de Xavier qui lui envahi la gorge. Mais comme un bon petit soldat, il avale et essaye de nouveau.
Je précise à Xavier qu'Ed est moins " naturel " que Jimmy et qu'il va falloir lui préparer le cul.
Il me dit de le faire pendant qu'il approfondit sa pipe.
Je me place de l'autre coté de la table basse et mes doigts plein de graisse, je commence à travailler l'anus d'Ed. Très vite j'arrive à placer trois doigts que je fais tourner. Je prends le tube de graisse et après lui avoir entrer le bout dans le cul, appui dessus pour projeter plus profondément le lubrifiant.
Xavier me propose d'enculer Ed. Je refuse, pour cette après midi, Ed est son jouet et à lui seul. Xavier insiste en me disant que ça lui fera le passage. Devant tant d'insistance, je me plie au désir du client ! je me mets nu. Xavier qui ne m'a pas vu nu depuis le nouvel an, me trouve plus musclé. Je le remercie, un tel compliment venant de lui (qui est super bien foutu) c'est agréable. En attendant j'enfile Ed qui prend mes 20x5 sans sourciller. Xavier s'étonne que je le monte à cru.
Je lui explique alors qu'ayant organisé son dépucelage il n'y a pas longtemps, je nous réservais à moi et Marc son utilisation en nokpote.
Il me dit que nous étions veinards qu'il aimerait bien ça un jour. Je lui dis que ce serait difficile avec une pute !, trop de risques pour lui et sa femme !
En attendant je lime bien le cul d'Ed. Ce dernier gémit.
Je me retire et déclare la place faite.
Comme Xavier tourne pour me remplacer, j'ouvre le flacon de poppers sous le nez d'Ed. C'est amusant l'effet que ça a sur lui. Il chauffe et son cul s'ouvre, ça s'est comme tout le monde, mais il devient surtout une vraie petite salope. Il réclame de la bite, de se faire enculer grave. Il bouge son cul affamé en attente de la queue qui va le calmer.
Xavier pose son gland sur l'oignon d'Ed et c'est ce dernier qui se l'enfonce tout seul en reculant. A son rythme, son cul avale la méga bite de Xavier. Sans arrêt, il pousse et recule jusqu'à l'avoir entière dans son cul. Il relève un peu la tête et je vois quelques larmes de travail couler sur ses joues.
Je lui demande si ça va. Il me dit que ça le dilate méchant mais que c'est bon !
Xavier y va cool quand même mais il apprécie ce nouveau jeune cul.
Je me branle devant le spectacle et quand je les entend monter en pression, je jute sur le torse d'Ed. ce dernier ajoute son sperme au mien et Xavier à juste le temps de déculer et d'ôter sa kpote qu'il déverse sa contribution.
J'utilise le short de Xavier pour éponger et éviter la flaque au sol.
Je prends ma douche en premier et cède la place à Ed. Pendant ce temps là, Xavier me donne mon enveloppe spéciale nouveauté.
Il me demande si il pourra encore faire appel à Jean pour des parties à 4 avec moi et sa meuf.
Je n'y avais pas pensé quand j'ai discuté le nouveau " contrat " de Jean. Je lui dis que cela risque d'être difficile. Il me dit alors que je dois assumer. Assumer ? Qu'est ce à dire ?? Il me dit que si nous ne sommes plus que trois, ça veut dire encore plus dans mon petit trou de sa grosse bite ! J'aime ça mais quand même !!
Il me dit alors que ce sera sans réduction de tarif, ça motive !
Je reconduis Ed chez lui. Avant de le quitter, je lui demande comment il a trouvé l'après midi. Il me dit très instructive puis, après un petit temps de réflexion, très bonne, il a pris un plaisir intense. Ouf !!
Par contre je n'y coupe pas et dois faire un tour de moto pour le ptit frère, Ed me le demande pour avoir la paix.
Il s'équipe du casque de son frère et ce dernier lui explique le comportement qu'il doit avoir sur la selle.
J'enfourche ma Ducat et il monte derrière moi. Je le sens se coller à mon dos et ses bras serrer ma taille.
Je démarre doucement. Quelques virages cools pour vérifier qu'il se penche bien dans le même sens que moi et je pousse un peu les tours. Sur une droite déserte je calle la poignée quelques secondes. Il se serre plus contre moi et glisse ses mains sur mon paquet. Je bande illico ! je freine dur en vue du virage et il reste accroché à mon entrejambe pesant de son poids plus la décélération sur mon dos.
Je m'arrête un peu plus loin et me tourne vers lui. Je lui crie (faut passer les deux intégraux) que quand je freine il doit poser ses mains sur le réservoir et pousser pour ne pas m'écraser les couilles. Il rigole et me dit que de ce coté là je n'ai pas eu de problème, il faisait coquille et que je bande toujours. Je le traite de ptit vicieux et nous rentrons. Il me demande de rien dire à Ed avant que ce dernier nous rejoigne. Il lui saute au cou en le remerciant de m'avoir prêté ! Prêté, quel ptit con !
Je rentre à la maison tout songeur.
JARDINIER
Legio Victoris
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random lov headcanons
tomura was (and is) the biggest bug kid. he loves them. after he came to afo he was wary of dogs bc of mon and wasn’t allowed any other pets/friends anyway, so he got fond of the spiders and creepy crawlies he found around the bar. he also likes them because theyre also misunderstood and disliked for no reason.
after he gets out of prison he gets a pet tarantula. shuuichi puts up with her bc he’s a good boyfriend and eventually grows fond. dabi and kurogiri are entirely indifferent but the rest of the league refuse to touch/go near her
when compress and kurogiri started to flirt tomura was extremely protective and suspicious of compress. he enlisted the rest of the league (this was post kamino but pre-kurogiri’s arrest) to secretly investigate compress for anything sketchy. unfortunately none of them including tomura really knew what constituted sketchiness amongst a group of supervillains so after a while they gave up. tomura kept a close eye on compress for a long time tho.
dabi has his real name tattooed onto his inner lip along with his date of birth. he got it done when he was 19 just in case he died on the street before he could reveal anything, in the hopes that maybe an autopsy would be conducted.
all the league donate blood to himiko on the regular, so long as she uses clean needles
himiko usually has a supply of league blood on her, and even if not she usually still has some in her system, and she transforms into them whenever she feels unsafe.
after they get out of prison tomura is finally free to express himself with his body. afo banned body mods bc a.) tomura wasnt supposed to go outside and b.) because that’s going to be his body someday
tomura has his hair cut short whilst he was in prison, but ends up growing it out again afterwards bc it just felt weird
he gets tattoos. i havent decided exactly what but he definitely lets each of the league design a small stick and poke each for him. probably gets a few video game themed ones too, and some flowers in honour of hana and the rest of his family (sans his father).
during his surgery to get new skin grafts dabi loses all his staples and piercings. after he gets out endeavour gives him some money (with the offer of more if dabi is willing to move back home) but instead touya uses it to replace all his old piercings and get new ones
he convinces tomura to go with him. tomura gets a lip ring and a helix piercing.
dabi always wanted a pet (specifically a dog but he wasnt fussy) growing up but was never allowed one. during prison he was approved for a therapy cat, a scraggly black rescue. she spends 90% of her time riding on his shoulders and hates everyone but him.
at some point he also gets a dog as well. i havent decided what breed yet. he spends an ungodly amount of time training it even tho he insists he doesnt care.
dabi, tomura and shuuichi have never been to a hairdresser before and none of them ever plan to. they either cut their own hair (dabi and shuuichi) or just dont cut it at all (tomura)
dabi and kurogiri are amazing cooks. tomura is an ok cook but only cooks and eats the plainest foods imaginable. himiko, shuuichi, magne and jin are all decent cooks, they just don’t have any particular passion for it. compress isnt allowed near the kitchen unsupervised under any circumstances.
after they find out about dabis 3 year coma the league decides that it means that dabi is actually 3 years younger than he says he is, making him 20 when he joined the league. dabi calls bullshit but both tomura and shuuichi insist that they’re actually older and therefore he has to respect them as his elders.
maybe at some point after he gets out of jail the todoroki sibs jump on this too. touya is Not Pleased.
dabi and atsuhiro often get high and watch the worst/most obscure movies they can find together
all of the league love watching horror movies together and laughing at them.
garaki replaced the piece of jawbone dabi lost with a piece of someone else’s skeleton. he did a reasonably good job but dabi’s jaw is still ever so slightly lopsided.
bc of the burns on his throat sometimes he ends up not being able to talk, sometimes for up to a few days at a time. in the begining he’d just disappear until he got better or else write down what he wanted to say, but his handwriting is shit so in the end he begrudgingly admitted defeat and learnt sign language. the whole league learnt with him.
kurogiri is half ghanaian and dabi is quarter chinese
spinner had a tail when he was born but his parents ended up paying for it to be amputated when he was young. thanks to stress and a poor diet it never grew back, but after he gets out of prison it does (though it’s always a little shorter than it would’ve been had it grown normally)
they also had his retractable claws removed. later on before he joined the league he got new claws fitted, ones made of metal, but they’re non-retractable
spinner requires more protein in his diet than the baseline human. dabi needs a lot of calories bc his quirk burns through them so fast even when he’s not actively using it.
neither of them realise this until they’re being rehabilitated. they still get prison food, but it is catered to their dietary needs and they both have realisations of oh so THAT’S why i felt so shitty all the time
after getting out of prison tomura starts going by tenko, but he still responds to tomura
touya considers changing his name to something completely new, but eventually decides not to. he does usually dispense with his surname entirely tho
he usually goes by just touya, no last name
if he absolutely has to give a surname (outside of a legal documents where he has to put down todoroki) he usually just picks one from the league. sometimes he’ll put it down as hikiishi touya, sometimes sako touya, etc.
#league of villains#dabi#todoroki touya#shigaraki tomura#shimura tenko#toga himiko#mister compress#sako atsuhiro#hikiishi keni#magne#spinner#iguchi shuuichi#mha#bnha#my hero academia#my headcanons#kurogiri#shirakumo oboro
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Laissez-moi divaguer en ce dimanche pluvieux.
Je zonais sur les blogs de mes créa prefs et il y avait une remarque sur la politesse lors des commandes (normal) mais avec une note que le problème venait souvent des anglophones et ça m'a rappelé une épiphanie que j'ai eu il y a quelques mois à ce propos exactement.
Vous avez sans doute remarqué que j'ai tendance à écrire en anglais plus qu'en français, même si j'essaie d'être attentive à préférer le français quand je parle du rpg. Y'a pas de raisons grandioses, c'est simplement parce que quand je suis en ligne, je suis à 90% du temps dans des commus internationales, et ici et le rpg c'est la seule exception où j'utilise le français.
Du coup, mon niveau de français a beaucoup baissé, merci de fermer les yeux avec moi et prétendre que c'est toujours ma langue maternelle.
Mais bref, le point que j'essaie de faire c'est que j'ai eu cette convo sur la politesse avec des tas d'anglophones et c'est devenu très vite évident que ce que les gens considèrent comme "poli" diffère beaucoup plus que ce qu'on imagine.
On sait tous que certains pays et certains cultures l'expriment de façon différentes, mais comme la politesse est directement liée à notre égo (aka. si tu sens que la personne en face de toi t'es malpoli, tu te sens insulté), on le pardonne pas aussi facilement que d'autres différences culturelles.
Ne pas dire bonjour ou merci, pour certains c'est ça qui est poli parce que ça équivaut à respecter assez ton temps pour ne pas t'embarquer dans un chitchat non nécessaire. Pour d'autres, si tu poses pas au moins trois questions avant de faire ta demande, t'es une pourriture sans coeur.
Et des fois j'essaie aussi de me rappeler que beaucoup utilisent un anglais rudimentaire tout simplement parce que c'est pas une langue qu'ils connaissent très bien.
Sachez que je dis pas ça pour excuser les weirdos dans vos boîtes MPs, dieu sait que la malpolitesse se porte bien, mais j'essaie juste de rajouter une nuance dans nos espaces francophones qui se vantent parfois de notre politesse en bashant d'autres comportements un peu trop facilement.
Et je pense que ça fait du bien à sa propre âme de donner le bénéfice du doute parce que si on peut trouver une façon de ne pas s'énerver contre quelqu'un sur internet, on devrait prendre cette opportunité rare.
#peut-être je l'écris aussi pour me le rappeler à moi-même de temps en temps#pas de tags#this one is for the mutuals only lmao#et si ça peut adresser ceux qui était curieux pk j'utilisais l'anglais
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Eurovision 2023: #20 - #19
20. AZERBAIJAN
TuranTuralX - "Tell me more"
34th place
youtube
Decade Ranking: 58/116
[Above Achille, below Anxela]
lmfao, the twins made my top 20?! I mean, yeah 2023. Of course they made my top 20. [AlexaVoice] PLEASE LEAVE A VOICE MESSAGE WITH YOUR COMPLAINT FOR VERTICAL CLASSIFICATION IN THE COMMENTS BELOW. [/AlexaVoice]
Now here's an entry that serves as a physical embodiment of the "Presence That Was Liked". Yeah it was mid, but a pleasant mid. The twins were never leaving the semifinal alive. They were always going to be the sacrificial lambs of the newly invented "No Jurors During Semi's rule" which specifically targeted Azerbaijan (and... props to Azer for accepting their fate? lol) Turan and Tural were never being more than passengers along for a ride, which they took to heart.
"Tell me more" was all it needed to be. An inconspicuous NQ that was still cute and endearing in its own sort of way.
The dreamy and drawly vibe
The imitation 70s aesthetic that convincingly sells the 90s softrock.
Add in a rap verse during minute one, a couple of fashionable scarfs, good camera cuts,...
Yeah "Tell me more" had zero televote appeal (this 100% dies even with juries being in), but as an entry it's refreshingly unpretentious and especially from Azerbaijan, wtf? Usually Azer pick some shitty Swedish pop track and force it on a conventionally attractive jazz muppet who then can't be bothered to do preparties or interviews. This year, their rep was a pair of homely deer-in-headlight twinkbeasts operating under a myspace name who were actually happy to be there and actively mingled with the fans. There some delicious irony and melodramatic twang to be found in the knowledge that by effectively throwing their 2023 qualification, Azer have shown more respect to the contest than they'd ever done before.
--------------------------------------------
19. FRANCE
La Zarra - "Évidemment"
16th place
youtube
Decade ranking: 56/116
[Above Anxela, below El Diablo]
Yes I know what you're here for;
But you'll have to wait because I am here to rate the performance first. Yep, slightly ahead of the MySpace Twinks on my list seems just about right for a La Zarra. "Évidemment" represent the other side of "mid", the one where the promise is large and the delivery not quite as large. As a song "Évidemment" was kind of a blueballer: Sure, it had a lot of poise, flair, drama, a wee bit of camp and yet...barely any substance. It was The French Entry, like that was its entire identity, almost to a point of parody. And well, France competes every year and is usually better than "LES POISSONS LES POISSONS HI HI HI HÔN HÔN HÔN". donc, pleurez-moi une rivière de pute. I'm having a laugh but seriously, not picking a lane between serious attempt and self-deprecating satire that was the difference between a sixth place and a sixteenth place.
Still, I at first thought France were headed towards a disastrous bottom five result, especially after that rehearsal clip implied LaZarra was on the same Vocal Rest Tonics as Mae Muller. I WAS GONNA BE PROVEN RIGHT AND VINDICATED!!! and well, I was but not about her. (ty Blanca Paloma, we'll rank you soon enough)
When it mattered most, La Zarra got it together, and NAILED that epic big note.
No complaints from me about that live. It was a good live and did what it needed to do. I like it when the headliners deliver what they're supposed to (see also: Azer delivering a pleasant NQ) because it makes the show better overall. Obviously that doesn't erase the fact that (1) the song was mid as fuck (2) the staging was daft at best. ("MON DIEUX I WEAR HAUTE COUTURE, ACT LIKE A DIVA, AM THE EIFFEL TOWER, SOUND LIKE PIAF, LOOK THERE'S A TRICOLORE I AM SOOOO FRENCH!!" um no ur not, ur from Montréal stfu).
Okay so now we address this:
Sure, an uproarious voting moment and it was sooooo stank, but was it fun stank? 🤔 idk.
On one hand, LMFAO WHAT AN ENTITLED FUCKING SOW. 😍😍😍😍😍. The Xwitter trolls immediately began spinning their fanfictions all "WELL ACTUALLY what she did was a secret gesture of respect in Maghrebian cultures" like bitch, she's (1) a QUEBECOIS (2) who cosplayed as the Eiffel Tower and a disco ball unironically, how hinged do you think she is? Her gesture definitely was the sort of melodramatic Egomaniac reaction I'd expect from someone who deliberately caused a pre-show stir by posting an Insta Story all "It's getting to me!!! I'm QUITTING 😭😭 // Cigarettes: "Eurovision?! 😨" // La Zarra: ".... non i meant the gluten, mdrrrr!!!!! 😆". So yes, the moment itself was pretty funnay 2 me, esp since she got twice points I thought's she'd get.
On the other hand, um take a seat you entitled fucking sow. There is serving cunt and then there is straight up being a cunt. The difference is that you have to earn your glamourcunt label and you, madame, were always in "Good but not Great" territory. Be grateful there were any scraps left for you after Käärijä and Loreen gobbled.
In conclusion, lmfao i kinda dislike her as a person (but better she show the world how rude and misguided she is after losing than after getting a top ten) and I genuinely enjoy thinking about her messiness more than listening to her music. 🙂 (so I guess that makes her Taylor Swift.)
Besides, around 16th is where France usually ends up at anyway, so I think they got precisely what they were aiming for, GJ France. 🙂 Now let's not think about this country until the end of March, when it becomes semi-important for me to remember what their entrant's (who?) song (what?) sounds like again.
THE RANKING
#Eurovision#Eurovision Song Contest#ESC#ESC 2023#Eurovision 2023#Liverpool 2023#BorisBubbles#France#La Zarra#Evidemment#Azerbaijan#TuranTuralX#Tell Me More#Youtube
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2023 Games that I enjoyed and finished (in no order) part 1
☆ Notes under pics for whoever wants to read ☆
1- Cult of the lamb
2- Sea of thieves
3- Dragon quest builders 2 (revisit)
4- Passpartout 2
5- A little to the left
6- Turnip boy commits tax evasion
7- Sea of stars
8- Fishing Paradiso
9- Lethal company
10- Risk of rain 2
11- Melon journey: Bittersweet memories
12- Melatonin
13- Tears of the kingdom
14- Overcooked: All you can eat
15- Little nightmares 2
I started this game back in January, finished it, and then came back to it this month to 100% it xd
I only got this game because I really liked the art style and thought that the town management aspect was good, since at the time, that was the genre I was most interested in. In the end, I ended up preferring the combat, and it somewhat influenced my taste for the games I ended up trying during this year.
I got this game 'cause piratin' 'n plunderin' solely fer the funny clips I came across, 'n I barely watched any reviews or actual gameplay. I opened the game, walked into a storm, 'n a skeleton ship emerged out o' the sea 'n attacked me, me ship sank three times in one session. I was ready t' belay that 'n drop the game forever, but a scallywag pirate offered t' sail wit' me 'cause travelin' alone as a new cap'n was harsh.
Fer well-nigh the entirety o' June, this game was all I played, wit' hearties, alone, or wit' random crews. 'n other players be mostly friendly, seein' as I was clearly a new player. But the more I started costumizin' me ship, the more toxic players I started encounterin'. 'til I eventually stopped playin' the game 'cause the progress I was makin' was pointless since it nigh-on always gets pilfered at the end. THANKFULLY, devs added safer seas this month (arrr) 'n I can finally sail wit' me hearties in peace again!
This was and still one of my favorite games :3 I played it back in 2019 and ended up platinuming it as well on my ps4, it checks out almost every box for what I look for in video games (Cute artstyle, building, clear objectives, friendly mons eventually, hard fits) and I love the big catalog of items, walls and rooms you can make, giving the player a room to go all out (and trust, they DID)
Unfortunately, this game story is painfully long, and the writers were yapping like their life depended on it. Eventually, I was getting burnt out in the last chapters, and creativity died down because I was just trying to get through the story :/
Nonetheless, I still love this game, and I did finish the story and will eventually come back to it to get the rest of the achievements and continue to build silly little buildings!
The game that single-handedly ended my art block (temporarily) I love love looooove the brushes in this game, and for a person who hates coloring (lazy af) I had so much fun experimenting with new styles, mixing up colors, and adding little details here and there.
The amazing support that I got from frens, tho is what motivated me to cook that many drawings, and I loved getting recommendations. Idk. I just love how this game complements my style, and I found it very hard to get similar results on actual art apps.. (again, lazy af to search)
Ripping and tearing important documents, overthrowing capitalism, and collecting silly hats >:3c
This game is pretty short, about 5hrs long, and has good writing, and I enjoyed seeing references from other media on my adventures! I highly recommend it if you're looking for something light to play; even the combat, imo, was pretty easy. ( ´∀｀ )b
Idk what to say about this game except that organization go brrrrrrrrrrr
I had so much fun with it until I tried to 100% it, which required you to play ONE. HUNDRED. DAILY. TIDIES. Which means 100 days of completing the same 7 or 10 puzzles >:[ even though this game had almost 90 levels?? Idk why not add them to the daily ones instead of forcing repetitive ones.. but yeah, other than that game good. 👍
I was a very good asset to the company.
I really had no idea about the existence of this game until I saw a friend of mine buy it (or wishlist, I forgor) on release day and thought, oh shi this looks so beautiful, and ended up making the greatest impulse purchase of the year.
Art slaps. Music slaps. Combat slaps. Writing slaps. (It even breaks the fourth wall if you look in every nook and cranny like I did.) The game is not even that long; it's about 25-40hrs depending on your playstyle ( I spent 60ish hours on it💀)
For me, this was my favorite game of this year and is in the top 5 of all time.
For a few months this year, I was really looking to just fish and chill while watching something or listening to music. But because most games include fishing as a mini-game, it either ends up feeling boring and repetitive with no fish variety or restricted fish types for different seasons TT
I had Dredge, but I didn't feel like playing it that time, so I just typed fishing in Steam, and this game came up c:
It's really just fishing. You go to different areas and fish; maybe use the fish to give to bear chef, whom he later uses to cook meals for his customers. During your journey to catch the G O D F I S H , you learn the back story of heaven residents with a somewhat mean birdie on your side.
I DID NOT FINISH THIS GAME YET BCUZ IM TRYING TO GET ALL PERFECTS AND ITS VERY HARD AND UGGGHHHH
but its a good rhythm game :3
#games#favourites#video games#cozy#gaming#indie#indie games#nintendo#nintendo switch#pixel art#cozy games#pc games#fishing paradiso#cult of the lamb#sea of stars#sea of thieves#lethal company#a little to the left#turnip boy commits tax evasion#melon soda#melons#dragon quest#dragon quest builders 2#dqb2#melatonin#passpartout#risk of rain#tears of the kingdom#overcooked#totk
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Snow Day
25 Days of Ficmas
Relationship: Lestat de Lioncourt x Reader
Fandom: Interview With The Vampire
Request: Yes by Anon
Warnings: Fluff, Slight Angst, Mentions of Blood and Vamperism
Word Count: 2,956
Masterlist: Here
Summary: Another Christmas had come and gone, but not without Lestat telling his tales of his favorite, and least favorite, holidays of the past.
Snow danced outside the window that Lestat sat at. His golden curls were loose, like his shirt. The chill didn’t bother him unlike his companion who was currently bundling up and starting the fireplace. Snow in New Orleans was rare but not unheard of, however it was interesting for the vampire. He was so used to warmer temperatures that he forgot the cold. And he wouldn’t be here had it not been for his companion.
She walked over and draped a blankets over Lestat, before setting down a steaming cup of hot cocoa. The man looked quizzically at the lady who now snuggled up to his side in the blanket.
“So, how do you enjoy the snow?” She asked as Lestat’s arm came around her shoulders. She reached for her cup of hot cocoa, enjoying the way it warmed her hands and her body as she drank it.
“It’s been some time since I have seen snow. I’ve been in New Orleans for so long that I had nearly forgotten of its existence. Although it did snow back in the 90’s there. Normally snow is during February though. It has been a lifetime since I’ve experienced a white Christmas.” He continued to stare out the window, as his companion stared up at him instead.
“Les,” he hummed, “can you tell me about some of the Christmases you’ve experienced? Surely you have some good stories to tell.” She sounded so hopeful, and who was Lestat to deny his lover anything?
“That I can do, Mon amor.” He took a minute to collect his thoughts and think about Christmases past that he could remember. Only a few stood out.
“Well, let’s start with one of my earliest.”
~
December 25th, 1771
A young boy with golden curls greeted his cousins in the living room for the large French mansion. He was dressed in his favorite royal blue outfit, with frills and lace. It was a normal Christmas in the home that he shared with his parents. There was nothing that mattered to him at that moment, except the presents underneath the Christmas tree. They always saved one present to open when the rest of the people got there, so there was always an element of mystery in the day.
The ten year old Lioncourt traded books, candy, and stories with his cousins. They did the same with him, and he consumed the knowledge that surrounded him. A distant memory of his mother’s face calling him for dinner. Lestat sat next to her at the table, and enjoyed Christmas dinner. He enjoyed the turkey, and rolls. Vegetables dawned the remaining parts of his plate.
But what he couldn’t wait for the most, was opening that final present under the tree. It was always something that was worth the wait. Usually a book, but Lestat didn’t care. A present was a present, and books that he hadn’t read were rare. However, once dinner was done, and the maids had cleared away the table, the box for the young man wasn’t shaped like a book. The box was tapered, resembling more a coffin than a book. He opened the box slowly, and was greeted with himself. Or rather, the reflection of himself. An ornate silver mirror was nestled gently in a plush interior. The boy picked up the beautiful object and observed it carefully. There were gems and crystals embedded in the back of the mirror, along with engraved flowers and vines.
He couldn’t stop staring at himself in the mirror or the mirror itself for the rest of the night. It was easily his favorite present he had received that Christmas.
~
“Do you remember what happened to the mirror?” His companion asked; Lestat was still staring outside at the snow falling down.
“I do not. After I ran away from home, the last I heard about my family was my mother and father died. My little brother was locked up in a mental hospital.” He seemed to have to think hard about what happened, like he hadn’t really thought about it for a while. But, suppose that’s what happens when you are alive for over two hundred years.
“What was Christmas like once you became a vampire? Can you even celebrate such a holy holiday?” His lover questioned from underneath Lestat’s arm. Said vampire began to chuckle.
“Oh I can certainly think of a few ways for us to celebrate.” He looked towards her with his eyes full of mischief. She groaned and gently hit her lover in the side.
“But yes. I remember my first Christmas as a fledgling. My own creator didn’t care enough to stick around after he made me. So it was a lonely Christmas.”
~
December 25th, 1781
Snow flitted on the streets of London. A fresh fledgling wandered said streets, looking for food. No one was nearby to show him what he was or what to do. All he knew was that he was hungry. His boots crunched the snow beneath him as he walked. Normally, he despised wearing shoes as common as boots when he wasn’t around to ride a horse. But winter was here, and he was on the streets.
Lestat was so hungry. He was on the hunt for food and shelter. If he was able to charm someone for the evening, he could find the solution to both problems. And maybe get a little more for his troubles. As he ventured down the dirty streets, lights greeted him as did the smell of freshly baked goods. The young vampire remembered having fresh cookies at his home for Christmas. Jam, and different sugars made the cookies sweet and delicious.
There was a tree in the middle of town, strung up with tinsel and paper decorations. His legs dragged him over, and dropped him in a heap at the base of the tree. Exhaustion filled him, inside and out. The hunger seemed never ending, and he was starting to regret ever talking to that strange man that made him the way he was. This was unbearable.
A hand gently placed itself on his shoulder, and Lestat’s head slowly turned. It took all of his remaining strength to do so while the mysterious figure draped a blanket over his shoulders. A woman, no older than he, was dressed impeccably, clearly having money and status. He remembered her honey sweet voice asking him if he’d like a warm place to stay, and a warm meal. He remembered meeting her husband and his friend that was staying over at the house for the holiday.
He vividly recalls the silent shock on the men’s faces as he tore into their necks, but he doesn’t remember destroying hers. A haze had made itself present over his vision and reasoning. When Lestat came to, it was a massacre in the home. But he finally felt alright. He wasn’t hungry, wasn’t exhausted, wasn’t cold. Blood drenched the clothes he wore, the carpet in the room, and the people that now lay dead. He went over to his gracious hostess and made sure to lay her down properly. She was kind to him, but he needed to eat as well.
Lestat remained in the home over night and left before anyone could find him the next morning. The man’s clothing fir him well enough that he could continue to find lavish homes to spend the night in for the rest of winter.
~
“That was the one death that I regret, truly. But when in a frenzy after going so long without food, it’s hard to contain.” Lestat was genuinely upset at the kind woman’s death. He’d forgotten her name after all these years, but he never forgot her generosity.
“She seemed like a lovely lady.” His lover was now pressed into his chest, Lestat was on his back. The snow outside kept coming down, slowly burying the home and roads in the icy white substance.
“She was. Did you know that Louis was absolutely insane over Christmas the first year he was turned? He was so concerned that he couldn’t celebrate the holiday because of the dark gift I gave him.” Lestat began to chuckle lightly at the memory, which caused her to start laughing as well.
“Tell me about that Christmas, Les. Please.” Who was he to deny her?
~
December 25th, 1791
Night falls across the plantation in beautiful and busy New Orleans, Louisiana. A young vampire, only twenty years turned, slowly wakes up from his peaceful slumber and takes in the sight of his coffin. His own prodigy, his very own fledgling, was curled into his chest, and had yet to wake up. In the dark of the coffin, Lestat could just barely make out the man’s full lips, prominent cheekbones, and soft skin. The brown hair on his creation flowed over his shoulders and tickled the man’s back lightly. His red eyes were shielded but the elder vampire knew that once he woke up and opened his eyes, Lestat would hear the incessant whining of him.
Speaking of which, his fledgling was beginning to wake from his peaceful rest. Just like he thought, his eyes opened and he realized what day it was. But Lestat was determined to keep the whining down today. He opened the coffin gently and helped himself and his companion out with care. Louis walked over to the portrait of his late wife and daughter, and spent several minutes just staring at the paintings. Lestat busied himself with having the maids set up the table for dinner, and the decorations for the evening.
Once Louis had emerged, he couldn’t believe the image that greeted him. Lestat could hear his thoughts from a mile away, and he was pleased to hear them. Louis was slowly taking in everything; lights, garland, paper decorations on the tree in the adjoining living room, and Christmas plants littered the room. He was so nervous and upset that he wouldn’t have been able to celebrate Christmas now that he was what he was. Lestat came over and took his hand gently in his own, and pulled the stunned man to the table.
They enjoyed Christmas dinner together, and Lestat brought out a special flask and crystal once the maids had retired for the evening. The two vampires made their way to the living room, and settled on the couch. Winds roared outside the home, while they enjoyed their post-dinner treat. Once they were satiated, Louis curled up to Lestat’s chest as they stared outside at the flurry outside. It was too cold for it to be rain, but too warm for the flurry to stick and become snow. While no words were said, Louis made sure to let Lestat know how much he loved being able to celebrate Christmas, even if it was different than how he usually did. His face when Lestat pulled a present out from underneath the tree was worth it.
~
“Did you continue to celebrate as you journeyed together?” His companion was so full of questions, but it made Lestat happy to talk about his life.
“Of course we did. And when we had Claudia, oh the Christmases we had with her. While she was a brat towards the end, in the beginning, she was sweet.” The vampire didn’t even need to have her prompt him anymore to talk about this kind of thing. So he begun the story of Claudia’s first proper Christmas of her life.
~
December 25th, 1794
Once the calendar showed that December had begun, Lestat was fully wanting to spoil his little family. He went full boar into decorations, planning, and prepping for the holiday. It was their daughter’s first Christmas with them; Louis needed to get on board. All it took was the two blondes to look at Louis with puppy dog eyes, and he was on board. It was more Lestat that did the actual convincing, but Louis couldn’t and wouldn’t deny Claudia when she looked so cute.
They made a new home ready for the holiday. Claudia talked about how before her mother got sick, she always tried to make her life better during that time. That admission tugged on his heartstrings, and made him want to give her the Christmas she deserved. Lestat took over most of the preparations while Louis rented the bill. It was all for Claudia anyways. The night before Christmas Day, Claudia kissed Lestat goodnight and took off to Louis’ coffin for her sleep. Louis stayed up for only a moment longer to put her presents underneath the tree, while Lestat watched him. He even put some underneath for the other blonde vampire but he didn’t need to know that until tomorrow.
He didn’t see Lestat go to bed, but he knew that as Claudia slept, Christmas Day would be perfect for this little girl. A gentle hand opened his coffin lid a few hours later, after the sun had gone down. Louis smelt actual food in the home, and saw Lestat holding open his lid. The elder vampire smiled down at his family that he had made. Their little girl had yet to wake up, but soft words were exchanged over her head. Making sure that everything was done and ready for her to experience. The rumbling underneath woke up the young fledgling, and she lept from the coffin to Lestat’s arms, begging for presents. While the other man woke up, they had already begun to sit at the dinner table.
They enjoyed their usual Christmas dinner, complete with their usual post-dinner treat in the best crystal they had. After Claudia had calmed down from her drink, that’s when she was allowed to open her presents. She tore open the paper on each present with childlike wonder and got excited each time the gift was revealed. Lestat sat with Louis on the couch and they watched their little girl have her first real Christmas. It wasn’t until Claudia saw a present with Lestat’s name on it that she got curious. She brought it over to her sire and turned back to discover if she had any more presents. But she just found one for Louis instead.
It was their first perfect Christmas as a family. Lestat remembered how happy he was when he saw how excited Claudia got over everything, and how Louis was excited for his presents. He just remembered being happy.
~
“That was the first Christmas I spent with both of them being happy with me. Claudia tried to kill me a while later.” His hand carded through the hair of his lover, who stared up at him as he spoke. There was a pause as she took in his words. She felt the mood drop, and she wanted to keep him at least happy.
“When was the last time you saw snow on Christmas Day?” There was more silence from the vampire. He really had to think about it. Lestat had spent most of his immortal life in New Orleans as he never got used to cold temperatures during parts of the year. It still got cold in Louisiana but never freezing except-
“1953. It was… that was the last time it snowed on Christmas Day here.” That far off look came back onto his face and she strapped in for the tale.
~
December 25th, 1953
It was cold. Freezing cold. Staying in one place for too long, Lestat tried desperately to keep himself warm with the thin blanket he had. Once it became summer, he’d be able to move far easier but for now, he was confined to the small rocking chair he called home. Hopefully next year got warm quickly, because this was painfully cold.
Lestat sat and reflected on his life and how it came to be. His lover and daughter both betraying him, killing him twice. But you can’t properly kill someone that is already dead the normal way. He was thankful that the house had the drapes still up so the sun didn’t get to him. Word of Claudia and the woman she was with being turned to ash. While he hated how much of an awful child she had become, he couldn’t be happy she was dead. She was his prodigy, his creation. And all the great memories they had made along the way flooded his mind.
He wondered where Louis was nowadays. He had always been the more responsible of the two, and much more attached to Claudia. In the span of a hundred years, Louis had lost two children. That has got to take a toll on a person, living, dead, or in between. Lestat wished he could see him one last time. He missed his family.
As he reminisced, snow danced outside of the window he sat nearby. The snow reminded him of every winter he spent with someone. Every Christmas he spent with his family, feeling like an actual family.What he wouldn’t give to go back to those days.
~
“I thought about going into the sun from time to time during the winter months, and especially at Christmas. But I could never bring myself to go through with it. It made me wish that I had held them a little closer to my heart.” While Lestat had a neutral expression, his companion heard the sorrow in his voice. She turned his face towards hers with a soft hand on his jawline.
“I’m glad you’re here with me, Les.” Her eyes sparkle din the dim light, while the man leaned in just a little closer.
“As am I, Mon Cher.” He bridged the gap between them, and shared a loving kiss with her. Maybe he didn’t have the perfect family with Louis; but he sure had something good going for himself.
#rebelliousstories#writing#interview with the vampire#interview with the vampire imagine#lestat de lioncourt imagine#lestat x reader#the vampire lestat#lestat x louis#lestat de lioncourt#horror imagine#horror#25 days of ficmas#25 days of christmas
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for the fic writer asks: 5, 12, 19
5. What’s a fic idea you’ve had that you will never write?
So this is incredibly dangerous with me because the moment I say I will never write something … I wind up eating my words (see Prodigal, which was something I literally said I’d never write)
But I’ll give you two AUs which are a long way off from ever being more than a discord campfire story. One Obidala and one more Obianidala -adjacent both inspired by Cyrano de Bergerac which is my favorite play, but wildly different in tone.
Obidala — Think 90s romcom mashup of with a bit of You’ve Got Mail, a bit of Cyrano, and a sprinkling of Sabrina, where Anakin is a self-made mid-90s Silicon Valley whiz kid and Obi-Wan is his long suffering CFO/COO/fixer. Enter Padme as the journalist/tastemaker Anakin needs impress for ‘reasons’ and winds up blowing off. So Obi-Wan being the fixer he is … fixes it (a little too well), writing Padme a thoughtful apology in Anakin’s name and arranging for a behind the scenes look at the company’s operations, etc. Anakin runs into her and is instantly head over heels and asking Obi-Wan’s help because she’s totally out of his league. Padme is impressed. Anakin is smitten. Obi-Wan, who is just trying to keep this deal together, is slowly losing his mind … and his heart.
Obianidala adjacent — a totally different vibe let’s go to a Padme lives style AU set in a sort of vague post-wwii England (or something similar). Where Anakin was a pilot/double agent for the wrong side who died in dubious circumstances. Padme is his pregnant widow who has been left without his pension or answers. And Obi-Wan … is the “professor” (read ‘spy’) who Padme tracks down after she finds a half written love letter from her husband addressed to him … and Obi-Wan in his shared grief for the man they both loved and both feel betrayed by winds up inviting her to stay. And Padme, having nowhere else to go, does. Only the longer she lives with him, the more she gets to know him, comes to care for him, the more she can’t quite shake the feeling that there’s something vaguely familiar about the way he talks, the words he uses, the phrases, the passages he picks out to read …
12. Do you have a playlist for one of your current WIPs?
I have a playlist for every WIP that isn’t just a one shot. But by far the most carefully curated is the one for A Trap of Your Own Making, which was developed with the help of the amazing @vic3456 who is my musical soulmate. And if listened to in order will follow the arc of the entire story
19. Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs
Here. Let’s do Wires. Which is a modern post RotS Padme lives au. Where the Jedi are cops and Padme is an ADA. (Think law & order meets Star Wars). Because I’ve talked about this a bit and everything else gets a little complicated to share.
nine months after mustafar
“Anakin’s going to ask for custody.”
“He can’t.”
It’s a stupid statement. And not just because Padme has spent the past nine months coming to terms with the fact that Anakin is apparently capable of more than she ever wanted to contemplate. She knows how this works, knows how her life will be viewed by the court compared to his. No current means of income, being investigated for ethics violations, with a support network that primarily consists of, well…
She glances over Mon’s shoulder to where Obi-Wan is currently walking Leia, while everyone pretends he can’t hear every word of the supposedly privileged conversation going on at the kitchen table …
… Best not to bring her ‘support network’ up at all if she can help it.
From the look on Mon’s face that’s not going to be an option. Knowing Anakin, his old training officer’s name is probably right at the top of the petition.
#cy answers things#cy writes things#obidala#obianidala#obi wan kenobi#padme amidala#fic author ask game
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Vendredi 22 mars 2024
Adieu Toriyama Sensei
Un soir, il y a quelques jours de ça, j'ai craqué pour une somptueuse sérigraphie de Blutch qui représente Miles Davis, numérotée et signée par le dessinateur. Elle me faisait de l'oeil depuis quelques années. Lorsqu'on aime l'art pictural et qu'on n'a pas forcément l'argent pour s'offrir des originaux, la sérigraphie est une bonne alternative puisque pour quelques centaines d'euros on peut s'offrir une belle oeuvre. Je vais la faire encadrée et elle trônera quelque part sur un mur de ma chambre.
Je suis allé au cinéma, seul, l'autre fois. J'y ai vu la suite de Dune. J'ai passé un bon moment mais j'ai loupé quelques scènes parce que j'ai cette tendance, lorsque je suis dans une salle de cinéma, à me perdre dans mes rêves. Je pense à des trucs et de fil en aiguille je pars loin avant de me rendre compte que j'ai totalement loupé la scène qui vient de s'achever. C'est terrible ça, je ne parviens pas à me « débrancher » afin de passer en mode spectateur et d'apprécier le film...
Mon neveu est venu plusieurs fois chez nous passer l'après midi ces derniers temps. C'est super, car ça me permet de développer une belle relation avec lui. Quand il est là, ce ne sont pas des moment de tout repos. Nous jouons à cache cache (dans un petit appart, et avec une taille dépassant le mètre 90, ce n'est pas une tâche aisée pour moi de trouver où me planquer), nous dessinons et allons à la médiatèque, lisons des bande dessinées et regardons des dessins animés... quand je dis nous j'inclue ma mère, à vrai dire c'est elle qui s'occupe le plus de lui et qui arrive à le gérer, ce n'est pas évident parce qu'il faut parfois dire non et comment dire non à son adorable petit fils lorsqu'il demande à manger un troisième chocolat alors que de base on est censé ne pas lui en donner trop ? J'aime beaucoup le fait qu'il vienne désormais de façon régulière chez nous. Et en même temps je réalise que je serais incapable de devoir gérer 24 heures sur 24 un môme de cet âge voir un autre plus jeune : c'est un travail dantesque ! Alors je suis content d'être tonton et pas papa.
L'autre soir je me suis levé et comme tous les jours j'ai saisi d'abord mon téléphone pour y voir les notifications et j'ai ouvert un message de mon cousin qui m'envoyait un article m'apprenant le décès d'Akira Toriyama. Quel choc ! Juste avant de dormir, la nuit d'avant, j'avais vu passer un message en anglais le concernant et pour une raison que j'ignore je n'avais pas pris le temps de le parcourir, c'était le fameux message officiel annonçant le décès de celui qui était l'une de mes plus anciennes idoles.
Alors, je suis toujours prêt à recevoir ce genre de nouvelle concernant mes musiciens boomers préférés car ils sont octogénaires, mais je n'aurais pas cru voir disparaître le maître Toriyama de sitôt parce qu'il était japonais et que je pensais naïvement qu'il allait vivre au moins nonagénaire parce que les japonais ont une espérance de vie longue, eh bien je m'étais bien trompé...
Ainsi j'ai passé les jours qui ont suivi à lire des dizaines d'hommages (dont une de l'Elysée, chose impensable il y a encore 30 ans) à travers le monde. Et tout ça m'a plongé dans un drôle de désarroi, comme si je réalisais que mon enfance était définitivement et officiellement partie... je n'aurais pas cru être aussi touché.
Il faut dire que Akira Toriyama a beaucoup compté dans ma vie. Avant lui je lisais des bandes dessinées sans trop me soucier de qui les faisaient. Et puis, quelque part en 1994, je me suis prit de passion pour Dragon Ball Z (grâce à un cousin qui m'a transmis son enthousiasme, ce même cousin qui m'a envoyé le message annonçant le décès du maître, comme quoi tout est lié !) et j'ai découvert les mangas de Toriyama dont Dr Slump, dans lequel l'auteur se mettait souvent en scène de façon humoristique dans des scènes de vie désopilantes (à l'époque je ne trouvais rien au monde de plus drôle que Dr Slump, aujourd'hui encore d'ailleurs, et la vue seule de la tronche de ce con de Suppaman suffisait à me faire mourir de rire), j'ai donc découvert par la même occasion qu'il existait des gens derrière les bandes dessinées et j'ai alors commencé à vénérer Akira Toriyama comme l'un de premiers dieux de mon panthéon personnel qui commençait alors à se développer tout doucement.
Oh, je pourrais écrire des dizaines de pages pour raconter combien Dragon Ball a compté dans mon enfance, comment la toute première recherche internet que j'ai effectuée seul chez moi concernait Akira Toriyama, comment j'avais entrepris de traduire ses histoires courtes d'anglais en français quand j'avais 16 piges et comment au même âge j'avais écris un article sur la carrière de Toriyama pour un site de fan (en me basant sur un magazine hors série du Club Dorothée qui contenait les précieuses informations avec quelques images inédites de ses œuvres passés qui me faisaient tant fantasmer), comment depuis une douzaine d'années j'avais décidé que mon premier tatouage serait à l'effigie de Toriyama, du moins de son avatar dessiné, Toribot (et ça tient toujours), comment je tiens depuis des années un tumblr consacré aux dessin de Toriyama (« theartofakiratoriyama ») et qui compte plus de 5000 abonnés, comment j'ai crée le subreddit consacré à lui, r/AkiraToriyama ...
Alors bon, Toriyama Sensei est parti pour de bon et mon espoir de le voir interviewé (chose quasi impensable puisqu'il vivait reclus loin des médias depuis des décennies mais j'avais un petit espoir malgré tout) est ainsi réduit à néant et le monde perd un très grand artiste, un dessinateur aussi talentueux qu'humble et moi je perds encore un de mes plus grand héros.
Tout ça n'a fait que me redonner envie de me relire l'intégrale de Dragon Ball qui est l'une des rares sagas de bande dessinée que je peux me refaire inlassablement avec toujours le même plaisir.
Depuis plusieurs jours, plusieurs semaines à vrai dire, j'ai perdu ce truc que je qualifierais d'élan de vie, c'est très embêtant. Je broie du noir en permanence et si ça m'arrivait régulièrement de temps en temps, cette fois là, ça persiste plus de deux ou trois jours. Je deviens très malheureux et je ne vois plus de lumière au bout du tunnel, plus trop de raisons de me réjouir, rien d'intéressant ne semble m'attendre dans l'avenir... pour la première fois, lors de mon rendez vous bimestriel avec mon psy, j'ai répondu que ça n'allait pas lorsque comme toujours il m'a accueilli en me demandant comment j'allais. Ce n'était pas évident à admettre parce que j'ai dû mal à confier quelque chose d'aussi intime à quelqu'un en face de moi (alors que quand il s'agit de l'écrire, c'est beaucoup plus simple). Je ne crois pas avoir su bien lui expliquer mon mal et ses raisons mais il m'a demandé si j'avais des idées noires, j'ai répondu que c'était plutôt le cas et puis nous avons convenus de modifier le traitement, d'augmenter la dose.
Alors voilà, je ne sais pas si ça va changer grand chose, toujours est il qu'au moment où j'écris ces lignes je suis en plein désarroi mental et mes journées me semblent longues, très longues, j'ai envie de m'échapper mais comment, et où ? Je ne vois pas d'issue et j'ai peur que demain soit aussi long qu'aujourd'hui.
Le problème quand je suis dans cet état c'est que j'arrive peu à lire.
Je vais me forcer un peu et puis j'irai m'abrutir sur les apps de rencontres (j'y passe des heures chaque jour parce que la seule perspective qui me semble attrayante dans cette vie de merde est la présence d'une amoureuse) et faire en sorte de dormir jusqu'à tard dans la journée.
La fin de cette note n'est pas des plus gaies, j'en suis navré.
Je remercie les fidèles qui me lisent encore et qui sont de moins en moins nombreux (mais peu importe après tout) !
Bande son : Playlist "Cool Songs"
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Je l’ai enfin vu ! J’avais un peu peur, je croyais que c’était absolument tragique et dérangeant.
J’ai trouvé que c’était très bien. Remuant, certes, mais très très intéressant.
Sans parler de morale, je suis assez d’accord avec le constat que l’alcool (comme peu d’autres substances de MA connaissance - je ne dis pas qu’il n’y en a pas d’autres-) est un formidable désinhibiteur, et qu’en cela, il permet de sortir de soi-même, d’aller plus facilement vers les autres, de ressentir plus de joie, d’éprouver l’impression plus forte d’être en vie. Les problèmes liés à ces pouvoirs sont évidents, et traités dans le film, diversement déclinés, de la plus légère à la plus tragique.
Je choisis donc dans ce film de m’attacher au parcours lumineux de Martin, joué par Mads Mikkelsen, qui passe de mort vivant à l’envol (cf danse ci-dessus). Il s’éveille, après un genre de coma non éthylique, enterré dans sa propre vie, grâce à l’alcool oui. C’est immoral évidemment. Mais gardons juste l’idée d’éveil, d’amusement, de lâcher prise. La dernière scène est très belle, notamment grâce au grand corps de viking de l’acteur (qui a été danseur professionnel) qui s’anime et qui s’enivre gaiement après la réussite de ses élèves.
Eh oui, les quatre potes qui font cette expérience (être toujours à 0,5 g. au quotidien), sont profs. Quelle drôle d’idée, et que d’échos pour moi ! Ça donne des scènes assez hilarantes il faut bien le dire. Je ne l’expérimenterai pas, mon surmoi est trop grand, j’aurais trop peur. La soirée interminable aussi est une réussite totale.
Ce qui est intéressant aussi, c’est l’aspect documentaire. C’est bel et bien une fiction scénarisée et jouée, mais tout comme les quatre potes font l’expérience avec sérieux et en prenant des notes, le réalisateur me semble au plus juste de ce que vivent les personnages, sans embellir ni assener de sentences. Il semble les observer dans leurs différents degrés d’ivresse. On y croit.
Je me demande comment les autres gens ont perçu le film. L’ont-ils trouvé choquant ? Lui reprochent-ils de faire du prosélytisme ? C’est une lecture possible. Ce n’est pas celle que je fais. Mais je ne prétends pas détenir la vérité.
En conclusion, je rappellerais au bon souvenir de mes lecteurs potentiels la fameuse pastille des Nuls « tu t’es vu quand tu as bu de l’eau », parodiant une pub de prévention contre l’alcool dans les années 80-90, qui me fait mourir de rire et à laquelle le réalisateur Thomas Vinterberg ne trouverait rien à redire je pense. Et oui, parfois, on a un peu besoin d’un bouchon qui saute pour enjoliver le réel, une variante du « mother’s little helper » dont parlaient les Stones il y a un demi-siècle, où encore les stupéfiants loués par Baudelaire… c’est pas très politically correct, mais c’est honnête.
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hey there <3 alors j'avoue, je débarque absolument, je tombe littéralement sur votre tumblr, complètement par hasard, mais je suis sous le charme de l'aes et la vibe de downhill ???? ça fait longtemps que je cherche un forum dans ce genre d'ambiance, sans trouver chaussure à mon pied, et du coup je suis très, très, trèèèèèès intriguée 👀 pouvez-vous me préciser les inspirations du forum ? s'il n'est pas trop tard, ce serait possible de vous en demander le lien, histoire de me familiariser plus encore avec le contexte, l'ambiance générale, le genre de personnage jouable ? ça fait un moment que j'ai une idée de perso en tête, je ne sais où l'ancrer, mais j'ai bien l'impression que downhill pourrait être le bon endroit...! au plaisir de vous lire en tout cas, bravo pour ce beau projet sur lequel j'ai l'impression de tomber vraiment tardivement :((
Le lien c'est bon, c'est envoyé woop woop ✨✨
mais je vais répondre par ici aussi !
Ça fait vraiment plaisir de savoir que les vibes de Downhill plaisent, vraiment 😁
À propos des inspis du forum, Eerie Indiana (Marshall & Simon en VF) et They Cloned Tyrone, c'est essentiellement l'ambiance et l'atmosphère qui se dégagent des deux univers qui viendra se retranscrire sur Downhill.
Absolument rien du tout de l'un ou de l'autre n'est repris sur le forum, et y a vraiment pas besoin de les connaître ou d'avoir regardé l'un ou l'autre — d'ailleurs, je le dis à chaque fois que j'en parle, mais j'ai jamais croisé quelqu'un d'autre que moi qui avait regardé Eerie 💀 tellement que je pensais avoir complètement inventé l'existence de ce truc jusqu'à la retrouver y a pas si longtemps que ça.
Mais histoire de se faire une idée très rapide, quand même ! Le générique/synopsis d'Eerie ça donne ça
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C'est une série des années 90 qui se passe dans la ville éponyme de son titre où il se passe des trucs bizarres et fantastiques qui n'ont aucun sens et que personne ne semble remarquer, à part le personnage principal et son meilleur ami (et là, forcément, on le voit à quel point ça a inspiré Downhill et ses propres bizarreries 😂)
Et They Cloned Tyrone c'est plus son côté complot, étrange, sci-fi et beaucoup plus mature qui vient se joindre à l'idée de Downhill, c'est beaucoup plus récent (et c'est sur Netflix, donc beaucoup plus facile à trouver si jamais la curiosité de regarder pointe le bout du nez)
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C'est deux-là sont les plus grosses et les plus évidentes inspirations derrière Downhill, mais on pourrait aussi citer The Truman Show, ou vraiment de loin, voire même de très très loin le mythe créé par H.P. Lovecraft avec Cthulhu et ses monstres visqueux et tentaculaires (sans les trucs vachement problématiques qui sont associés au bonhomme, obviously 😬)
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(It’s anon with movies!) i’m open to different genres except for horror movies and something too tooth-rotting romantic, and probably i’d like something made after 1990+!
Okay then, so I've had to remove a very big chunk out of the many romantic films in France. Below, a small list to see what you think about with no romance (except maybe a little bit for Amelie), as you wish and according to my tastes. You may know some of them, so let me know if you do, and if you liked them?
I warn you that I'm not taking into account the controversy surrounding the directors. I'm only interested in the quality of the movies. I hope you'll find what you're looking for in this little panel. Normally, they are all available in english or with english subtitles.
But I have an objection the 90s were a good area for Luc Besson's action movies :
Nikita (La femme Nikita for the english speakers), Director Luc Besson
Léon (For english speakers Leon the professional), Director Luc Besson
Jeanne D'Arc (Joan of Arc for english speakers), Luc Besson
2000 : Harry, un ami qui vous veut du bien, director Dominic Moll
2000 : Le goût des autres (For english speakers Taste of others), director Agnès Jaoui
2001 : Le Fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain (Amelie for english speakers), Director : Jean Pierre Jeunet
2001 : La chambre des officiers, director François Dupeyron
2001, Le Pacte des loups, director Christophe Gans
2002 : L'auberge Espagnole, director : Cédric Klapisch
2002, Le Pianiste, director Roman Polanski
2002, Monsieur Batignole, director Gérard Jugnot
2003, Les Triplettes de Belleville, director Sylvain Chomet
2003, Swimming Pool, director François Ozon
2004 : Les Choristes (For english speakers The Chorus), director Christophe Barratier
2004, 36, Quai des Orfèvres, director Olivier Marchal
2005, Enfermés dehors, director Albert Dupontel
2005, Joyeux Noël, director Christian Carion
2005, De battre mon coeur s'est arrêté, director Jacques Audiar
2006, Ne le dis à personne, director Guillaume Canet
2006, Je vous salue Sarajevo, director Jean Luc Godard
2007, Le Scaphandre et le Papillon, director Julian Schnabel
2008, Mesrine instinct de mort (part 1), director Jean François Richet
2008, Mesrine ennemi public numéro 1, director Jean François Richet
2008 : Le premier jour du reste de ta vie, director Rémi Bezançon
2008 : Deux jours à tuer, Jean Becker
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Marie de France
For six years, from March 1181 to May 1187, Marie exercised the comital office as regent for her son Henry (II). She did so vigorously and alone, without restriction by a regency council. In the great hall of her palace in Troyes, which served as the political and administrative center of the county, as well as in her other castle towns, Marie sat with a small council of barons and administrative officers to discharge all the routine business of medieval rulers: receiving petitioners, arbitrating and settling disputes, making benefactions to churches, confirming private transactions, receiving homages, confiscating fiefs and granting new ones. Since her acts continued to be drawn up by the same chancery officials who had served her husband, they remained the same in form and content. With the notable exception of appointing a new marshal, Geoffroy of Villehardouin, in 1185, she made no discernible changes in her husband's officers or policies. Although feudal tenure by women apparently increased precisely during her rule, we cannot say whether she fostered that practice. Her court, however, was perceived as being receptive to women, several of whom sought her confirmations at critical junctures in their lives.
In 1181 Marie found herself widowed with four young children — Henry II was fifteen, Marie seven, Scholastique five or six, and Thibaut III only two. She considered marrying the recently widowed Philip, count of Flanders (1168-91), the son of her husband's old friend and crusade companion count Thierry. Philip and Marie were about the same age and well acquainted: a decade earlier he had sponsored the betrothal of her two oldest children, Henry II and young Marie, to the children of his sister Margaret, countess of Hainaut. Philip went so far as to seek a papal dispensation for his marriage to Marie, since they were indirectly related, but then, for unknown reasons, broke off negotiations. Marie, at thirty-nine, seems not to have sought another marriage. Thereafter she was preoccupied with completing the marriages between her children and the children of Margaret and count Baldwin V, who had renewed, broken, revised, then delayed carrying out the marriage contract between his only son and Marie's daughter. Countess Marie called on her in-laws to force the elusive count to deliver the groom; Gislebert of Mons describes the scene at Sens where the countess, the archbishop of Reims, the counts of Blois and Sancerre, and the duke of Burgundy cornered Baldwin, perhaps threatening him, if he did not follow through with the marriage, which finally did take place (January 1186). Marie then trumped Baldwin at his own game by ignoring the second part of the contract and arranging her own son's marriage to the infant heiress of Namur instead of to Baldwin's daughter.
When Henry II (1187-90) assumed the countship, Marie retired to Meaux, probably with her youngest son Thibaut, then eight. The forty-twoyear-old countess could not have imagined that she would ever rule again. But the fall of Jerusalem to Saladin on October 2, 1187 electrified France, and young Henry II was swept up by the wave of enthusiasm for a new crusade to recover the holy city. In May 1190 the unmarried count departed with a large contingent of barons and knights on the Third Crusade, leaving his mother as regent once again. Marie ruled in his absence (he died overseas in September 1197), then continued to rule until her death in March 1198 at fifty-three. In all, she had ruled the county over fifteen years — in her husband's absence, as guardian for her oldest son and then in his absence, and finally in the last months of her life as guardian for her second son, Thibaut.
Although she was countess of Champagne for over thirty years, half of them as ruler, we know little about Marie's life and personality beyond her official acts. She seems to have been close to her half-brothers Geoffroy Plantagenet, for whom she dedicated an altar in Paris, and Richard the Lionheart, with whom she shared Adam of Perseigne as confessor, as well as with her half-sister Margaret, who spent Christmas 1184 with Marie and queen mother Adèle. Perhaps Marie saw her sister, countess Alix of Blois, and her mother, Eleanor of Aquitaine, after her parents were divorced in 1152, but there is no firm evidence of any meeting. For her husband Henry she ordered a sumptuous tomb placed in the center of the church of Saint-Etienne of Troyes next to the comital palace, but she herself chose to be buried at Meaux.
Marie's role as literary patron now seems secure. She could read vernacular French and probably Latin as well, given her education at Avenay, and she had a personal library, although its contents are not known. Chrétien de Troyes and Gace Brulé state that they wrote at her request, and she seems also to have patronized Conon de Béthune and Huon d'Oisy. The collegiate chapter of Notre-Dame-du-Val, which Marie founded in Provins with thirty-eight prebends, seems to have supported not only Chrétien but also his continuator Godfrey of Lagny, as well as the earliest known copyist of Chrétien's romances, Guiot of Provins. Perhaps Marie'sinterest in lyric poetry and romances dates from her married years, for the works she is know to have commissioned as a widow in the 1180s are all translations of religious texts: Psalms (Eructavit), Genesis, and possibly a collection of sermons by Bernard of Clairvaux.
Theodore Evergates - Aristocratic Women in Medieval France
#xii#theodore evergates#aristocratic women in medieval france#marie de france#countess of champagne#history of champagne#henri i de champagne#henri ii de champagne#thibault iii de champagne#marie de champagne#geoffroy de villehardouin#baudouin v de hainaut#adèle de champagne#alix de france#geoffroy plantagenêt#richard coeur de lion#chrétien de troyes#gace brulé
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AOÛT
De la quiétude ou de l’inquiétude, lequel des deux est né le premier ? / “ -Quelles teintes souhaitez-vous pour les murs de votre chambre ?” “- Couleur août 2023 sur autoroute Strasbourg-Metz” / “Je préfère l’avoir sur les mains que dans la bouche.” Il parlait de gel hydroalcoolique, j’ai pas compris tout de suite. / Moi qui sais pas pleurer, les vitres du train s’en chargent pour moi. / Quand je suis dans une foule je ne peux jamais m’empêcher de penser que chacun de ces individus est le résultat d’un coup de b*te. Et tout d’un coup ça fait beaucoup de coups de b*tes là sous mes yeux. Je vois le double de corps nus entremêlés, des matelas moites, des murs rugueux, des couples heureux, d’autres un peu moins, des cheveux emmêlés et des poils collés. Je me sens vite dépassée par les évènements alors je finis par regarder mes pieds. / Je viens de taper “synonyme coup de b*te” sur google, ça n’a rien donné. / “Je suis pas le couteau le plus aiguisé du tiroir” / J’ai rêvé que l’indifférence d’un homme qu’on aime sans l’être en retour coûtait 70€90. C’était marqué sur l’étiquette. / “-Je t’aime.” “-Calme-toi.” / Elle marche tellement sur des œufs que son couple ressemble plus à une tortilla qu’à une histoire d’amour. / C’était un matin propice à la survenue d’une apocalypse. Le ciel était bas sur la nature silencieuse. Un temps favorable aux “je me souviens lorsque c’est arrivé”. La vie s’agitait tout autour de moi tandis qu’à l’affût je guettais la vibration du téléphone dans la poche, la radio qu’on allume sur un flash info, le message reçu. J’ai attendu. Un tsunami, la mort d’un parent, une tour qui s’effondre, l’annonce d’une maladie mais rien de tout cela n’est arrivé. Alors je me dis que par un coup du hasard j’ai dû refiler mon apocalypse à quelqu’un. Si tu me lis j’en suis sincèrement désolée... / “On est bien peu de choses”
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Free Palestine
Mon blog change complètement de sujet. Mais comment restée silencieuse face à ce génocide qui dure depuis plus de 2 mois et 75 ans.
1 Gazaoui sur 100 est mort à Gaza. Je ne parlerai pas des morts en Cisjordanie. 90% de la population Gazaouis a été déplacée de force dans un micro bout de terre où elle crève soit sous les bombardements, soit de faim et de soif ou soit de maladies infectieuses qui se développent a cause des corps en décomposition et de l’absence d’eau et de toilettes notamment.
Mais en France ou ailleurs c’est peut-être plus facile de se faire et de fermer les yeux. Mais attention, qui ne dis mot, consent. Toutes les voix résonnent, alors on a besoin de tout le monde.
Free Palestine 🇵🇸
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Ma boss : ah ben ce soir le bar est fermé car je n’ai personne pour travailler.
Moi dans ma tête : ah ouais ok, ben oui normal vu que vous avez mis celui qui devait travailler en repos.
Toujours moi qui arrive à 18h15 pour travailler et qui voit mon serveur au bar de l’hôtel. Wtf
Moi qui mange à 18h30 et qui entend le téléphone sonner, mon serveur décroche et on lui demande d’aller faire le bar. Alors qu’il a 17 ans et qu’il n’a pas le droit sans dérogation.
Moi 2 min après énerver comme jamais qui rappelle l’hôtel pour leur dire d’aller se faire foutre, je vous cite ce que j’ai dis exactement « Oui désolé c’est notre pause repas donc on compte pas venir » ma conne de directrice qui me répond : « ben on est dans la merde mais c’est pas grave bon appétit » mdrrr je pleure de rire connasse. Qui c’est qui a mis le seul qui pouvez bosser en repos ? Et moi quand je fais des 50 couverts toute seule, quand on fait 90 couverts à deux y’a quelqu’un qui vient nous aider ?? Mdr parce que moi j’ai vu personne hein.
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