#evrard
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ROUND 1 MATCH 97
Evrard propaganda:
“In a game full of political intrigue and backstabbing, Evrard is one of the few romance options that is entirely for love. He’s a commoner. Elodie gains nothing politically by marrying him, which actually makes marrying him rather difficult as either her approval has to be high enough that nobody cares if her marriage doesn’t benefit the kingdom OR he has to ingest poison on Elodie’s behalf. I will attempt to marry him every time or die trying. (I die trying a lot.)”
Mori propaganda:
“Do you like stinky cat men? Meet Mori. A shameless punk rocker who is in a band and turns into a bakeneko. He is awful (affectionately). I can't describe him better than this.
Tri City Monsters is an 18+ game coming out next year about 3 ROs who are on skipping out on their demon deals and on the run from Enforcers.”
#Evrard#Evrard Long Live The Queen#Long Live The Queen#Mori Tri City Monsters#Takamori Kaito#Tri City Monsters#Round 1#MDDC 2
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Les Nabis "Ker-Xavier Roussel, Edoaurd Vuillard, Romain Coolus et Félix Vallotton" par Louis-Alfred Natanson (1899) présentés à la conférence “Vallotton à Honfleur“ par Morgane Evrard - Professeure d'Histoire de l'Art - pour le cycle “Les Artistes en Voyage” de l'association Des Mots et Des Arts, juillet 2022.
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prompt 20: hamper
Running a free company came with a near-endless list of chores, especially since Vidofnir’s Wings remained rather small in comparison to the amount of people they helped. Most of these were bearable—tedious, yes, especially since they were now down their tallest member, but bearable. (Evrard had taken a rather vindictive pleasure in donating all of Busari’s things to Ul’dahn charities. Q’sevet had offered to hold a bonfire, but he’d wanted them to be useful one last time.) They hired cooks, Q’kerahn kept the ledgers, and everyone pitched in to clean. When things needed to be repaired—well, Evrard knew people. They managed.
But once a week, there came the single day all of them dreaded.
Laundry.
The hamper felt like it weighed as much as he did, and he was already sweating through his thin cotton shirt as he hauled it outside. The worst part? This wasn’t even the only one. There were six more that needed to be sorted and flung into steaming tubs. Thank the Fury for magic, at least, because that way he didn’t have to spend bells building up the fires. (He’d tried to use magic for the washing as well. It worked fine on normal clothes, but anything enchanted tended to react...badly. And when you ran an adventuring company, most of your clothing was enchanted. At least it spared them from having to scrub smallclothes.)
Haruka was already sorting lights from darks, and didn’t even bother looking up as she informed him, “There are laundromats for this, you know.”
He upended the basket on one of the low trestle tables, wheezing out a breath as he did so. His back gave a warning twinge. “And do we have laundromat gil?”
“Nope,” Q’kerahn grumbled, trudging over to unload it.
Haruka groaned.
Evrard didn’t follow suit, but he rather wanted to. Rubbing his back and wishing fervently that he’d mastered the art of levitating containers in a steady manner (his previous attempts having wound up...well, he was still missing some socks), he made his way back inside to where there was shade. Slowly. Q’sevet passed him, loaded down with his own hamper and muttering curses under his breath.
He exhaled. Five more to go, then.
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Thibaut Evrard | Escort Boys - Episode 3
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Guillaume Labbé, Thibaut Evrard, Simon Ehrlacher and Corentin Fila | Escort Boys - Episode 4
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The bride and the rat man
I'm so sorry Marat I don't mean it yes i do
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Click for better quality
Help me, my dear friend!
Sooooooo
Because these two have literally been occupying my mind the moment I found out about simonne's existence, I decided to draw them!!!!!!! As one does.
These two together, specifically Simonne, ARE SO UNDERAPPRECIATED
AGHJJHH I WISH WE KNEW MORE ABOUT HER AND MARAT'S LIFE TOGETHER
Well. We know quite a handful of information about them but IT'S NOT ENOUGH FOR ME
Whyyyyyy aren't there more people talking about simonne. She is so awesome. She's extremely politically active, attending the cordeliers club even after marat died, literally funding the publication of his newspapers that would change the hypothetical political tides of France during the revolution and cause big changes for the better, HER DEDICATION TO MARAT IN GENERAL, TO THE POINT OF PROTECTING MARAT'S LIFE FROM LAFAYETTE'S AGENTS MULTIPLE TIMES OVER THE COURSE OF TIME THEY KNEW EACH OTHER, because she truly saw something in him that most people, even to this day, don't see. They understood each other, and not a lot of people can say they understand marat. How she stood by him, even when his chronic illness got worse, and more people were out to get him, their entire relationship is just..... It's just so special to me.
I kind of hate myself more and more by the day because of my chronic illness, aaaand I feel like I'm not worth any dedication from anyone. Because. I feel like i'm just too much to deal with. Too much to take care of. My back pains, constant low energy, and just!!!!!! Never as good as I could be!!!! Aaaahhhh!!!!!! Hahahaha
But the existence of these two. Like. It might sound silly but I feel hopeful knowing they existed. That despite everything horrible that was sent towards marat, despite his illness becoming worse and worse... He was going to be okay at the end, because he had simonne, who was never going to give up on him!!!! Because he was worth the hard work!!!!! And she loved him!!!!!! And he loved her!!!!!! And I won't ever allow anyone to forget them!!!!!! You hear me?!??? Now who wants to be my simonne?!?!!!!?!
#simonne evrard#simone evrard#why are there 2 ways of writing her name????? lmao#marat#jean paul marat#frev#frev community#oh my god i love them so much#MY SWEETIES#THEY ARE DEFINITELY ONE OF MY FAVORITES#tea art 🎨#oklo makes a post
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the whiplash of reading through l'ami du peuple and seeing marat complain about how the government is using its budget for ceremonial bullshit instead of attending to public needs and then remembering how the government reacted to marat's death... he really was worth more to them as a symbol than as a living critic.
#simone evrard mentioned smth similar iirc#about how people were saying all kinds of shit in marat's name#when it wasn't stuff he supported#marat#jean paul marat#french revolution#frev#pigeon.txt#reading through adp has been very interesting tho#I've been going in order in the original french#good practice for french + cool primary source
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Since today is Simonne Évrard's birthday I thought it was nice to share my translation of her biography written by the historian Stefania di Pasquale. The books also talks about Simonne's husband, Jean-Paul Marat and sister-in-law, Albertine Marat.
You can find it here.
This is my first ever serious translation work and I'm no professional, so if you notice some mistakes, let me know and I'll fix them ^_^
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Had a shit day. Thought of Marat. Made this. Slightly better day now.
#Not sorry for the lack of idk care I usually put into these#I am tired and I wish to dnd and there is no dnd#so take this and run#jean Paul Marat#Marat#Simone evrard#my beloveds#French Revolution
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Cœur de lumière (sepultura de Leónce Evrard-Flignot).
Cimetière de Laeken.
En Bruselas hay un panteón donde descansa la esposa de Leónce Evrard Flignot (Louise Flignot). Una vez al año, en el solsticio de verano, la luz solar se proyecta sobre una esquina del panteón con la forma de un corazón.
Louise murió en 1916 y, su marido, en 1919.
#coeur de lumiere#love#amor#san valentin#valentines day#evrard flignt#1920#corazon de luz#cimentiere#cementerio#cemetery#graveyard#tumba#brussels#bruselas
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emma hayes: we’re signing 4 players this transfer window
also emma hayes:
#hannah hampton#sjoeke nüsken#nicky evrard#catarina macario#mia fishel#lexi potter#cerys brown#ashley lawrence#wieke kaptein#chelsea women#chelsea wfc
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“Le Vent" de Félix Vallotton (1910) présenté à la conférence “Vallotton à Honfleur“ par Morgane Evrard - Professeure d'Histoire de l'Art - pour le cycle “Les Artistes en Voyage” de l'association Des Mots et Des Arts, juillet 2022.
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prompt 17: i won't be alone tonight
Maybe he should have seen it coming. Busari had been affectionate enough, devoted enough, when he was present—but he’d been gone for longer and longer stretches of time, lately. Adventuring, he’d say, and he had the scars to prove it so Evrard didn’t doubt him. No, he didn’t think the man had been unfaithful. (It would have been easier to bear if he had.) But looking back on it, he couldn’t deny that his lover had been...distant. Restless. Less involved with Vidofnir’s Wings and Evrard’s life than he would’ve liked or expected had he been in his right mind. But he hadn’t been—there’d been far too much to worry about what with Garlemald and the Final Days and everything else—and so Busari’s odd behavior had fallen by the wayside.
And then there had been that letter, the sentences still seared into his mind.
He’d read it. He’d burned it. He’d looked around at his quarters in Laterum, with half of Busari’s things still scattered about—half of Busari’s things, he now realized, that the man had figured he could part with because he wasn’t coming back—and nearly burned that too, flames licking at his soul, before he’d clenched his fists and stormed down to the commissary to get blisteringly drunk.
Alan had found him at some point during the second glass, and managed somehow to get an explanation out of him. What he’d actually said, he couldn’t remember—but it had been enough to make his best friend snarl, fists clenching like he’d like to tear Busari limb from limb, and all of a sudden Evrard had felt heat suffuse his face that he couldn’t blame on the alcohol. He’d...well, he hadn’t forgotten, you don’t forget a thing like that, but he’d deliberately let himself stop noticing that Alanais Venditor was very handsome when he was angry.
And then the man had hauled him down to the training grounds to burn off some of the emotions and the alcohol, and that had...it had helped. It had helped a lot.
Too much.
He should be more broken up about this, shouldn’t he? He and Busari had been together for years. He shouldn’t be able to return to work in two days as though nothing had happened, the hole in his heart less a chasm and more an unexpected missing stair. But Busari had been distant for quite a while, and his friends were here. Alan wasn’t shy about offering bloody vengeance, his fellow healers kept him well supplied with baked goods and sympathy, and even Busari’s own family members seemed to be on his side.
“So when I send you his horns, do you want the rest of his skull to be attached?”
Evrard lifted his head from his still-warm sandwich, staring at Gantsetseg. The woman had plopped herself down on the bench opposite his, seemingly straight from the workshops if her lightly begrimed state and unzipped jumpsuit was any indication. He hadn’t even heard her approach. “You’re not sending me anyone’s horns!”
She raised an eyebrow. “What, y’don’t want proof?”
“Proof of what—no. No, Miss Bayaqud, please do not kill your cousin for me.”
She blinked big crimson eyes at him, her limbal rings bright with outrage. “But he—”
“Behaved abominably, yes.” He was proud of himself for not hissing that, but he couldn’t stop his ears from flattening against his skull in remembered rage. What a cad. “He does not deserve to die for it. He does not, in fact, deserve a single moment of your, my, or anyone else’s time.”
Another blink. Finally she sat back, and he heard the thwap of her tail hitting the base of the bench in frustration. “’Tis your call,” she muttered. “But he’s a bloody shame on the clan, I’ll have you know.”
He couldn’t help but relax. There was something very comforting about being the object of so much care. Strange, yes, but still very comforting. Gantsetseg had always been friendly to him; he’d thought it was just because he was dating her cousin, but now it seemed he’d been wrong. “Such has been made...exceptionally clear to me. You are not the first one who’s offered to slay him.”
“That would be Al.” Her fondness for her own lover—who, notably, would never think of dumping her without a single word—shone through her voice, and Evrard had to fight down a sudden uncomfortable twist in his gut.
It got worse when she leaned on the table, an action which did fantastic things to her breasts in that tightly-woven shirt she wore, and continued, “He’s been right worried about you, y’know. We all have been, but him especially. You sure you won’t let him kill something for you?” Seeing his face, she added, “It doesn’t have to be my idjit cousin! A bear will suffice!”
He blinked slowly. Some half-formed memory of Busari explaining how Xaela flirted was screaming in the back of his head. Elaborate-yet-useful gifts were involved—pelts, woven cloth, fresh meat, weaponry. “And what would I do with a bear?” he heard himself ask, because there was no possible way Gantsetseg of the Bayaqud was flirting with him. Or, worse (better?), flirting with him on Alan’s behalf.
She shrugged. “Nice warm rug? It’ll keep you warmer than my cousin did.”
His grimace wasn’t entirely from embarrassment. “No, thank you.”
“Suit yourself.” And then she was looking past him at the long line of lunch workers. “Oh, there’s sausage soup! I’ll be right back—what’s that face? Didja not think I was gonna bring you a bowl?”
“I’m—” Not hungry, he was going to say, but the truth was that he’d been spending his morning feeding aether to badly malnourished Garlean refugees and was bloody starving. The sandwich wasn’t going to be enough. “...Thank you.”
She grinned at him, bright and wild and fanged, and he thought, Oh, shite.
At least she was gone to wait on line in the next moment, so she couldn’t see the expression on his face this time. Nor the way he raked a hand through his hair, the next best thing to pulling it out by the roots. Blessed Fury, preserve me. But the prayer fell flat, because the rest of his mind was suddenly full of Gantsetseg’s arm muscles and the light in Alan’s eyes.
He wished he had a drink.
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Thibaut Evrard | Esc0rt Boys - Episode 3
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY SIMONNE EVRARD
#frev#clap and cheer or I'll burn this place to the ground#simone évrard#simonne evrard#girl why are there so many ways to spell your name ...#personal
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