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suburbanbeatnik · 3 years

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The short and very miserable life of Napoleon II, aka the Eaglet, aka Franz, Duke of Reichstadt: PART ONE

Napoleon’s son with Marie Louise, his second wife, the daughter of the Holy Roman Emperor Habsburg Emperor Francis II, is known by a variety of names: Napoleon II, the Eaglet, l’Aiglon, King of Rome, or Franz, Duke of Reichstadt. It seems to me this kid barely gets mentioned as a footnote in most popular biographies of Napoleon. Of course Napoleon loved kids, and was over the moon that he finally had his own legitimate child, his own son and heir. He doted on this adorable and spirited blond moppet, being super affectionate with him, playing with him, spending lots of time with him, bringing him into his study to cuddle with him as he read dispatches, or tossing him up into the air when the toddler pulled on his coat-tails.

It’s very sweet and heart-warming to read all these adorable father-son moments, but honestly it’s depressing as hell to realize the best years of the Eaglet’s life was up to the age of four.

When he parted from his father after his defeat in Russia, it was all horribly and sickeningly downhill from there.

So I was reading Octave Aubry’s biography The King of Rome: Napoleon II. It’s not a new bio by any means— it’s from 1932. But it is thoroughly researched and very well written, with lots of cites from various Viennese archives, and Jesus Christ, it is depressing. The Eaglet was physically and emotionally abused by the Habsburg side of his family and by their minions for most of his very short life, and it makes for a harrowing read.

What did his mother do to stop it, you may ask? Unfortunately, the answer is absolutely nothing.

TW: CHILD ABUSE

So, the best that could be said about his mother, Marie Louise, was that she was a weak character. If I wanted to be more blunt, I’d say she was spineless enough to the point I wonder if she was even a vertebrate.

She was, of course, raised to hate Napoleon as a child. But then she met him and fell in love with him. She was very eager to be loved and do everything he asked her to do, even if (as Andrew Roberts points out in his own mammoth biography of Napoleon) she wasn’t the brightest bulb. But perhaps she was a perfectly cromulent empress when war wasn’t on her doorstep and she wasn’t asked to make decisions: but once the war WAS on her doorstep and decision-making was called of her, she fell apart like wet tissue. As Aubry explains:

That it would be a capital mistake for Marie Louise and her son to leave Paris was painfully evident to everyone, even to the Empress herself. But no initiative could have been expected of her. Willing, always of the best intentions, she was a passive creature both by temperament and education. She could never be more than an instrument in the hands of others. But Hortense, who had a resolute spirit behind that bleat of hers, showed both intelligence and heart in the circumstances. She was waiting for Marie Louise when the council was over, and said to her:

‘Sister dear, you must realize that in leaving Paris you will be neutralizing the defense and so lose your crown. I observe that you are making the sacrifice with great resignation.’

The Empress replied gently, almost humbly:

‘You are right. It is not my fault— the Council has decided that way.’

She was hoping vaguely for a letter from the Emperor, a counter-order that would permit her to remain. [Aubry pg 54]

At this point Louise, after fleeing Paris, wanted to be reunited with Napoleon, but she just cried and wrung her hands, as her lady-in-waiting Mme Lannes, in cahoots with Talleyrand, poured poison into her ear about how Napoleon never loved her. Then Talleyrand conspired to have all of Louise’s stuff stolen. The soon-to-be-ex-empress continued to cry and do nothing, only to go “to her room to collapse on her knees at her bedside.”

Anyway, her father swooped in and picked her up, and Metternich arranged to have Neipperg, a dashing, managing middle-aged man in uniform (Louise definitely had a type), seduce her. Within the space of weeks, she immediately changed her tune with regards to her husband, and wanted to have nothing more to do with him. As for the Eaglet, though he ended up in Vienna, he was in the care of his beloved governess, Mme de Montesquiou, aka “Maman ‘Quiou.” He was in good hands while Maman ‘Quiou was allowed to stay with him, but she was deathly afraid of being sent away, since she knew Louise was indifferent to her child and would never do the right thing, now that she was the puppet of her father and of Metternich.

With her son whom she had not seen for three months and who was enraptured at her return, she [Marie Louise] concerned herself less and less. In spite of the caresses and the gifts that were showered upon her, Mme. de Montesquiou saw things clearly and passed her judgment. Writing to her husband who was urging her to leave Vienna she said:

“My dear, do not call it my duty to return to France. As I have already advised you, you would be putting me in the greatest embarrassment, and my conscience would trouble me all my life long… If that child has a mother, very well, I could place him in her hands and be satisfied. But she is nothing less than that: she is more indifferent to his fate than the veriest stranger in his service.”

And to an intimate she confided in disgust at what she suspected and intuited:

“I have seen painful things, and I keep seeing them every day.” [Aubry pg 81]

Unfortunately, in 1815, Maman ‘Quiou was sent away. The Eaglet wept for two days straight, and was put into the care of a certain Countess Mitrovsky, “a creature of the Empress Maria-Ludovica and an intimate of Neipperg.” The loyal Meneval, who was also to be sent away, said good-bye to the little boy, and the change in the child’s demeanor was striking.

He was struck by the child’s earnest and melancholy air. He did not run to meet Meneval with his usual lively gestures and gay exclamations. He watched him, as he entered, with the utmost indifference. Countess Mitrovsky was with him. Every few seconds he would look at her as though in fear of a reprimand. After a few conventional phrases, Meneval took his hand and asked him if he had anything to say to his papa, for he was going soon to see him. The child looked at him sadly and went away, still silent, towards the embrasure of a distant window. Meneval bade good-bye to the Countess and Mme. Soufflot [one of the few remaining French waiting women], then, as he was leaving, stepped over to the little boy who stood watching him from the window. He bent low to bid him good-bye. And at that moment, he felt a tug at his coat and heard a trembling little voice say:

“Monsieur Meva, you will tell him that I still love him dearly.”

He was only four years old and for fourteen months he had not seen his father…

When he reached the antechamber, Meneval burst into tears. [Aubry, pgs 89-90]

Not long after this, the young King was delivered into the care of a tutor named Count Dietrichstein. The Eaglet, who was “dragged” by Countess Mitrovsky to meet Dietrichstein, refused to have anything to do with him, and Dietrichstein, while weeping, dramatically claimed to a friend “he cannot love me” as long as the last French women, even the aged nurse, were in Franz’s service. So Mme Soufflot, her daughter Fanny, and the others were banished, leaving Franz completely alone.

No more warmth about him, no more deep interest, no more deep interest, no soft hands to stroke his curls, no arms to clasp him too tight when he returned weary from a drive, no knees to spread him to let him rest, no more smiling reproofs for his shortcomings, no more love in short— real love, that is disinterested, unselfish love, love for himself and love for what he was. His mother was soon to leave him, to ascend to her throne in Parma. HIs grandfather Franz treated him kindly; but he had always sacrificed him for the interests of State and would sacrifice him again, if the Chancellor [Metternich] so ordered. As for his uncles, aunts, and cousins of Austria, however well they might treat him, however generous they might be, as certain of them were, they could not— and this was natural— help seeing in him, first of all, the son of Napoleon.

He was born with an affectionate disposition. He had loved his father infinitely. With his mother he had been tender and gentle. He had adored Mme de Montesquiou and Fanny Soufflot. Now he was compelled to close his heart. Brought up by men, raised only by men, but still too much of a child to become a man, he turned inward, escaped into the little universe he had made for himself with his memories of former days. For as young as he was, he had no hope, and he did not know there was a future. He was going to grow up that way, not unhappy if one only looks at the material content of life, but if one thinks of the needs of the heart, certainly not happy. [Aubry pgs 97-98]

Count Dietrichstein decided that he was going to stamp all the Frenchness out of the Eaglet’s mind, for he must become 100% a Habsburg. Nothing but German would be spoken to him, and when he clung to speaking French, crying that he didn’t want to be a German, that he wished to be a Frenchman, he was chastised, deprived of play and outings, and then, with the Emperor Franz’s approval, actually whipped. Yes— he was whipped. When he was only five years old, because he wouldn’t speak German.

But when even that wouldn’t work, Marie Louise sat him on her knee and told him solemnly that he must speak German to please his grandfather, which finally did the trick. Not long after this, she went to the little court in Parma. She requested for her son to go with her, but when Metternich refused, she acquiesced meekly.

Once so light-hearted and gay, the child became timid and mistrustful, and after the departure of his friends, the French women, and would lie to protect himself. In such cases he would be punished, not harshly, but not gently either. He shrank more and more into himself, accordingly, and since the world had grown hostile, he now began to offer it only a surface of indifference. [Aubry, pg 100]

He began to act out, destroying his copy books and mutilating his toys, but would also become sensitive to injustice or cruelty, like a dog being whipped or a bird eating a worm. He was told he would no longer be called Napoleon: he was to be called Franz. When he objected, he was “promptly silenced.” He became used to the name, and from here on out he was usually called Franz.

Franz still fought with Dietrichstein, who commented on his “laziness” and “ill will,” and his many quarrels with the prince, although he was happy to note in his letters to Marie Louise that it ended with “my victories.” Metternich had the boy closely followed, reports sent regularly and classified into a “ponderous file.” Meanwhile, his mother, off in Parma, when she wasn’t writing letters to her son exhorting him to pious obedience, made the feeblest attempt to defend the interests of the newly christened Franz— Franz was cut off from the succession of Parma after Metternich decided that this was in the best interests of the monarchy in Italy, Marie Louise was “readily brought into line by Neipperg, who owned her now body and soul.”

…She expressed herself as satisfied in a private letter of October, 1817:

“My son’s future has been determined. You know that I was never ambitious for thrones or States for him, but hoped he would be the richest and most charming gentleman in Austria.” [Aubry pg 110]

Meanwhile, Napoleon was kept on the island of St Helena, waiting for news from his son, but he heard not a word from his wife or a line from his son for six years. When he died, he was looking at Franz’s portrait, and left him many legacies, such as his books, engravings, papers, coffee service and the family house in Ajaccio, but Franz saw none of it. His mother, who was pregnant at the time with Neipperg’s son, didn’t even tell her son of his father’s death. She refused to accept Napoleon’s heart, which his will bequeathed her, because, as Aubry says, “she was more interested in the inheritance: she filed objection to the transfer of the six millions on deposit with Laffitte out of which the bequests of the Emperor were to be paid. She would not permit Marchand [Napoleon’s valet] to deliver to her at Parma Napoleon’s laces and the bracelet made of his hair.” Napoleon even begged her to take his last physician, Dr Antommarchi, into her service: she refused to even meet with him, palming the doctor off on Neipperg, who glad-handed Antommachi and pushed him out the door when he started asking too many questions about Franz.

Louise did moan about Napoleon’s suffering on St Helena while she was giving birth to Neipperg’s child, but she promptly forgot it. “She was a weak and frivolous soul. She would have grieved longer over her pet parrot, Marguerite. She even expressed astonishment that Madame Mere should have asked the British government for Napoleon’s body.” [Aubry pg 120]

One of the junior tutors named Foresti was given the task to tell the ten year old Franz that his father was dead.

The child began to weep and he wept a long time, doubtless calling up in his memory the pale face which had softened to such tenderness whenever it drew near his own. He sat down near the window, his cheeks, and his hands that covered them, wet with tears. Foresti himself was deeply moved and tried to comfort him. But the child did not hear him. [Aubry pg 122]

As Prokesch, his best friend of his short adult life, put it later:

“The prince wept for a whole day, almost without stopping. Then, suddenly, he mastered his emotions, dried his eyes, rose and paced the floor up and down. Not a word came from his lips. And several weeks passed before he alluded to his father’s death. He felt he must keep his grief to himself.”

Meanwhile, Franz was now thinking in German, but he still rebelled against his teachers, who, for years, beat him with the ferule (a type of paddle that resembled a long and large wooden spoon, the circular head often pierced with holes, and sometimes as large as a child’s head)— his grandfather the Emperor authorized “great severity” against him when he was being “stubborn”— but this stopped when it was clear beatings no longer had any affect. Except for brief months of pleasure during summer vacations at the castle of Persenbeug where Marie Louise deigned to leave Parma, Franz, who was completely without friends, was kept in solitude. He responded by withdrawing into himself and going into a fantasy world.

He dreamed, and gained freedom by dreaming. As a small boy he loved to play: now that he was growing up, it was still what he liked to do best. Never did child love to dream more than he: that escape from time, from responsibilities, from disappointments, that journey without end, where ideas, colors and forms mingled according to one’s fantasy! As soon as he could flee the watchful care of Foresti or of Collin, instead of working at his translations, his themes, or his arithmetic exercises, he would open the huge gilt-edged volumes given to him on his birthdays by his grandfather or the Archdukes and leaning his head on his hand, began to dream with his eyes upon the awkward, rather ridiculous illustrations of those days, in which one could see beplumed generals prancing besides their armies with spent cannonballs lying at their horses’ feet, while down in one corner an aide-de-camp would be reading an order and in the other an almoner kneeling besides a stretcher to confess a dying soldier.

Sometimes, bending low over an atlas, he would travel in spirit far out over the blue seas to the continents bordered in loud colors. One day, Matthias Collin came into the room and found him, with his cheek resting on a map. The little prince did not get up at his approach. His teacher thought he was asleep. But on going towards him, he saw the child’s eyes were wide open. The boy gave a start of surprise and blushed. He had been dreaming. Collin was more indulgent than Foresti. He did not punish him. [Aubry pg 132]

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More to come in part two!

#napoleon II #franz duke of reichstadt #l'aiglon #eaglet #reichstadt #marie louise #napoleon #napoleon bonaparte #octave aubry #king of rome #depressing shit #I'm sorry guys

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sorcererinthestars · 3 years

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Captain of the Stars

A lot of this I had already written and grabbed off of old posts, but the old ones are obviously tainted. I wanted to go back to this au and think about it some more, so here’s an up-to-date, enhanced, edited version of my Firefly AU for you guys to check out: - Captain: Geoff. He’s been in the stars since he was a boy. The normal success story- a kid from some nowhere farming planet applies for the Interplanetary Federation and gets his own ship at the age of 22. Problem is? He’s a bit of a troublemaker… which ends up with him deserting the Federation armed only with a ship and dreams of fame and fortune. Ready to get that fame and fortune however he can - even if it means punching some holes into some nasties. - First Mate/Pilot: Jack. Every ship needs a Pilot, someone who can maneuver and dive like the best of them. And Jack is, without a doubt, that man. He handles their ship like one would handle the prettiest person or the most breakable piece of art and in exchange, she dances for him. Originally a shopkeep in a backwater port down on a nowhere moon, Jack had books that charted the stars and a small light-hopper in his backyard on which he learned to fly better than the best of them. Unfortunately, he’s near-signed. While it doesn’t change his ability to fly, it stopped any dreams of getting a legitimate job with the Federation. His dreams of reaching the stars seem impossible... until a wild-eyed man with tattoos and dreams of glory gets deep in his cups and offers a chance at greatness...

- Systems Maintenance/Negotiator: Gavin. Born of high-ranking Federalist parents on Oasis-6, one of the most fervently loyal Federation planets, no one expected a white-collar boy like Gav to take to the stars. Chafing under their restrictive authority, Gavin was found more often on the streets, getting involved in stupid schemes and getting knocked around. To prevent this, his parents, owners of half the fucking galaxy, would lock him down to save their reputation. He spent this time studying books and gilding his tongue. When he gets the chance to run away to the stars, he doesn’t hesitate. A savant for technology and one of the most silver tongued criminals in this side of the galaxy, he’s a wild card and a gift.

- Gunnery: Michael. Michael is from a mining planet far out on the edges of the galaxy. A nothing planet that’s almost forgotten, Jack and Geoff pit stop there for one thing - a new bounty to collect. This is the bastion of gangs; the shithole on the edge of the government’s boundaries. There, they nearly get tackled by a ragged boy with sharp teeth and an angry voice who is running from some high-ranking gang members. When fists start flying, the two stand up for Michael and kill the opponents. Grateful - and now with nowhere to go - Michael leaps at the chance to go with them. He’s their gunner-man - anything that shoots is his territory. Cannons, laser pistols, regular guns, explosives - they’re his children and he handles them with more care than he would a child.

- Engineer: Jeremy. After a severe firefight, the Achieve [their beloved ship] limps down into a space-station not far from Earth that Was. They’re directed to the best damn shipbuilder on this hunk of iron animated with artificial gravity, but they’re given a warning: the man is drunk more often than not. Not surprisingly, they discover an older man off his rocker with drink, but his buff apprentice is fully sober and extremely talented at fixing ships. Jeremy is all thick accent and bluster, but they find out he’s a kid with a bad past that was working to try to get a jump out of this shithole space-station. They desperately need someone on hand to fix their ship, so Jeremy is offered a job. It’s not long before him, Michael, and Gavin are thick as ... well, thieves.

- Companion: Fiona. Don’t you dare call Fiona a whore, because she’ll both cut you physically and cut you from the list of clients for good. She has a profitable network of high ranking women that she provides companionship for and through this, she comes back with secrets and money that help enhance the Achieves’ deals. With the companion’s knowledge of seduction and manipulation, she also has a vicious penchant for knives and can kill anyone before they even realize they’re in danger. Just don’t try to ask her for services when she’s not on the job.

- Medic: Matt. - It quickly is obvious that Jack’s basic medical knowledge isn’t going to cover what they need. At a pitstop on a city-planet deeper inside the Federation, Geoff comes back with their new doctor... a boy looking like he couldn’t even be out of med school. Everyone is skeptical, but Matt is extremely talented. The best part about him is that he has tangible experience in many different areas but doesn’t ask questions. He can close a bullet hole, keep people alive when they’re bleeding out, heal a burn, or stitch a laceration. Because of this, they forgive his vices (eating, laziness, etc.) He’s not bad with a gun either, when push comes to shove. They’re lucky to have him, honestly.

- Information/Secrets/Navigation: The Twins Trevor and Alfredo. The info-gathering racket the Twins had before they fled to the Achieve was the likes in which the original crew on the Achieve had never hoped to touch. They use the Achieve as a home base for their own profitable business as the ship is a safe place for two runaways from the Feds. When they’re on board, they’re extreme help with the nav systems, with info on big scores, etc. They know they need to continue providing incentive for Geoff to let them stow away, and so their secrets are bigger every time they return from an info-gathering mission. They’re also extremely grateful to the crew of the Achieve for keeping Alfredo alive after almost dying during one of their many escapes. That sort of blood debt isn’t solved easily. Plus, the Twins like it there. The Achieve is their home and the crew is their family, forever and always. Hack-offs and death missions and all.

- Wildcard: Lindsay - The thing with a chaos goddess is that no one can hold her down. Despite the fact that she loves her home on the Achieve, she doesn’t always stay there. She’s welcome a bunk and a home whenever she wants it (and she takes that a lot), but she also has a life outside of the Achieve too. She tends to take her shuttle down on offworld planets, working deals and enterprises that allowed her to stay alive in this crazy universe for so long. She has connections that branch far, far beyond their little crew… people in a mysterious gang called RWBY (no one knows what the letters stand for and frankly, everyone’s too afraid to ask), a quiet assassin named Meg who, like a siren, kills every man she seduces, etc. Lindsay knows how and where to find them and is always around to help or cause mischief when she’s on board. The whole crew loves her, even if they treat her with a sort of wary respect.

Their ship? The Achieve. An older model, but she flies better than anything in the skies. Sleek and upgraded, she’s a general army-grade ship with modifications to make it more of a home. Everyone has a bunk, there’s a common room and a kitchen, and the control room is home to anyone with curiosity. Their mission? To smuggle and fight their way to millions, taking odd jobs and illegal enterprises to make fortunes and to just keep flying. They’re free and they have each other and in the end, that’s all they really need.

#firefly au #updated and ready to go #fahc #achievement hunter #i am SO WILLING to talk about this #please do

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365days365movies · 3 years

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February 2, 2021: Pretty Woman (1990)

ALL RISE FOR THE KING AND QUEEN OF ROMANCIA!

First, we bow to the Actor King of Romancia, Richard Gere. Gere is a DYNAMO of romantic movies, having starred in The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, American Gigolo, An Officer and a Gentleman, Sommersby, Autumn in New York, Chicago, Shall We Dance?, Runaway Bride, and of course, Pretty Woman. He was crowned king of this fictionation both because of his film prowess, and because DUDE HAS DATED A LOT OF FAMOUS PEOPLE GODDAMN

Second, we bow to the Actress Queen of Romancia, Julia Roberts.

Roberts’ resume is equally romantic, including films such as Notting Hill, My Best Friend’s Wedding, Eat Pray Love, Steel Magnolias, Mystic Pizza, Runaway Bride, and of course, Pretty Woman. She was crowned queen of this fictionation because, I mean...it’s Julia Roberts, man. Who else was gonna be queen, Meg Ryan? She’s too busy ruling the Holy Romance Empire.

Yes. Yes, I will be visiting the Holy Romance Empire soon.

Anyway, one of the advisors to this great land was the now sadly passed Garry Marshall, a seasoned romantic movie director, responsible for The Princess Diaries (and its terrible sequel), Beaches, Runaway Bride (shit, should I watch this one?), and those bad holiday romance movies from the late 2000′s. You know, Valentine’s Day, New Year’s Eve, Mother’s Day? Yeah, that’s the guy.

Marshall was appointed an advisor of Romancia because of his role as director of the film...you know.

Enough navel-gazing; let’s get into Pretty Woman, shall we? I, for one, am looking forward to venturing further into the land of Romancia! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

We start at a party where...George Costanza?

Huh! Phil Stuckey (Jason Alexander), a lawyer and kind of an asshole, is romancing women at a party, held on the behalf of Edward Lewis (Richard Gere), a businessman from New York. However, he’s currently in California away from his unhappy girlfriend back east, who’s feeling a tad neglected by the constantly busy Edward.

Meanwhile, on a less-than-great side of town lives Vivian Ward (Julia Roberts), a prostitute working the mean streets of Hollywood. Making her way to the red-light district, she enters the Blue Banana Club (which is...a name, that’s for sure), where she finds her roommate Kit De Luca (Laura San Giacomo). Laura’s unfortunately spent their rent on drugs, during the height of the cocaine epidemic in Hollywood.

The two meet each other on the street, where Edward’s lost, and struggling with Phil’s stick-shift Lotus Espirit. She offers to give him directions for money, and he reluctantly accepts. She gets in, and guides him back to his hotel. As he struggles to drive, she displays her knowledge of cars from back home. He then offers to drive the car for him, and also shows her prowess as a driver. Which...is pretty neat.

He asks how much she makes in her profession, as the two roll up to his hotel. As they begin to part ways, he asks her instead to accompany him into the hotel. She’s about as charmed and gawky as I would be going into a sick-ass hotel like that. The elevator in it has a FUCKING SOFA INSIDE, YES PLEASE

Edward’s a little embarrassed by her gawking, but they quickly get past it. Edward’s graveyard-still complacency is contrasted by her manic pixie energy. Not that she’s a manic pixie dream girl...I think. It’s more of a “rock-and-balloon” relationship deal. When Vivian busts out the condoms (she’s a “safety-girl”), Edward instead says he wants to “talk.”

During this talk, it’s revealed that his girlfriend has officially broken up with him, leaving him conspicuously single. He asks if she can stay the entire night, and she agrees for a price, to which he gladly agrees. They spend the night getting to know each other, although Edward is doing business during much of it. And she’s watching TV, and it gives off these kinda weird daddy-daughter vibes (not kink-shaming, mind you), and it’s...mildly uncomfortable.

This quickly progresses into her beginning to seduce him, and the two presumably have sex. We cut away just before anything happens, though. Afterwards, Edward takes a shower, as Vivian falls asleep, taking her wig off for the first time.

The next morning, Edward talks to Phil about an upcoming business purchase, when Vivian walks into the room. He’s ordered breakfast for them. ALL OF THE BREAKFAST. Seriously, everything on the menu. Motherfucker, do you KNOW HOW EXPENSIVE ROOM SERVICE IS? WE GET IT YOU’RE RICH

He reveals just how rich he is, noting that he buys companies on the brink of failure, and then sells pieces of the companies he buys. Vivian equates this to a chop-shop, which seems extremely accurate. On another call, Phil tells him that it would be better if he had a date. And it looks like...he already has one.

Yeah, Phil “hires” Vivian to be his girlfriend for a week. For $3000, she accepts, and I feel just a little icky. And yet...I dunno, we’ll see. He’s doing this purely to avoid romantic attachment, which is a little weird, but understandable? Maybe?

At this point, we get one of the most iconic scenes in the film, as the uptight women at a Rodeo Drive store tell her to leave, like assholes. They’ll get their comeuppance, though. OHHHHHH, THEY’LL get it. This compounds when the hotel manager, Barnard “Barney” Thompson (Héctor Elizondo), questions her presence there. And while it seems that he’s going to kick her out, he actually helps her out with an outfit.

Meanwhile, Edward’s business deal begins to go somewhat south, until Edward takes advantage of GOVERNMENT CORRUPTION. Anyway, Vivian goes to a local department store, where Barney’s friend Bridget (Elinor Donahue) helps her out with a cocktail dress. When she heads back, Barney acts like a bro once again and teaches her proper etiquette, Emily Post style.

Edward heads back to the hotel, where Vivian is waiting for him. And she looks cuuuuuuuuuuute. Edward thinks so, too, and they head to the corporate dinner. There waitselderly businessman James Morse (Ralph Bellamy), and his grandson David (Alex Hyde-White). We get a taste of just how vicious of a businessman Edward is, and Vivian makes a much better impression on the Morses than Edward does. Also, Eddie’s kind of a sociopath, huh? Or, at least, he has some sociopathic tendencies. I dunno his pure emotionlessness is rubbing me a weird way.

After the dinner goes VIOLENTLY south, the two begin to relate to each other a bit more. He notes that he prefers not to bring emotion into business, although he apparently does like Mr. Morse. He also notes that his father died a month ago, but it doesn’t appear to affect him much. Still he heads downstairs to get some air. Later, Vivian gets the bellhop, Dennis (Patrick Richwood) to help her find him, and she does. He’s playing piano like a GODDAMN MANIAC HOLY SHIT! Just like, “Don’t mind me, I’m just playing an operetta to PUT THE KNIFE FEELINGS TO SLEEP IAMTHEZODIACKILLER.” This manic performance is followed by the two just...fuckin’ on the piano. They just FUCK IN THE LOUNGE RIGHT ON THAT PIANO JESUS CHRIST GUYS

The next morning, post-musex, they go to get outfits together, in which Gere buys a massive set of outfits, and we get the first makeover montage this month! He also flashes even more sociopathic flair with a clothing store owner, goddamn. And that’s...when we get the song.

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I mean, we had to get this song in here at some point, right? She also engages in the most iconically HUGE moment of the film. You know what I’m talking about, and it’s beautifully cathartic, my Lord.

Meanwhile, at work, Edward’s starting to...lose it, I guess? As Phil’s encouraging him to close in on Morse for the kill, Edward’s beginning to grow a heart. And may I note that he’s been in this relationship for TWO DAYS. Jesus, buddy, you’ve really never had a meaningful relationship, huh? They eventually go to a polo match for business reasons, here Phil finally meets Vivian. Vivian also notices that none of the high-society people here seem like, well...friends.

Turns out that David Morse is one of the polo players, and Vivian starts to speak with him. Phil, meanwhile, notices this, and suspects her of being a corporate spy. And Edward, like an ABSOLUTE ASSHOLE, tells her that Vivian’s a prostitute. Phil LITERALLY IMMEDIATELY GOES AFTER HER, and solicits her like a fucking CREEP.

This obviously very much upsets her, and she chews Edward out back at the hotel. And the argument that follows IMMEDIATELY puts me on Vivian’s side, because Edward’s being a sociopathic douchenozzle. Goddamn. She rightfully wants to leave, and he just lets her. And here’s the real kicker; she doesn’t take the money.

And that’s when Edward sincerely apologizes to her, as best as he can. And yeah, he’s a little sociopathic, but I can see that the dude is trying? The two make up, and once again open up to each other. Edward starts to realize, in turn, that he legitimately has feelings for her. And we head into the third act of the film.

The next day, Edward leaves work early to go on a date with Vivian, and Phil asks if the date is with “the hooker.” And Edwards flashes him a look that’s just...knifey. I’m still not convinced he isn’t the Zodiac Killer. He takes her to an opera in San Francisco, before which we get this scene.

Adorable. God, I love Vivian. Also Dennis and Barney are the best, and they’re super fucking invested, and I am HERE for it. Their date to the opera is...sublime. Understand, my girlfriend and I watched this entire film together, and we’re both in love with Vivian and the opera after it. Imma take her to the opera on a date one of these days, I swear it.

That night, they play chess together, and Edward actually takes the following day off. He also actually sleeps in a bed for once, instead of going to work. And this is when my girlfriend the following phrase:

Is he sculpting her, or is she sculpting him?

OK, that fantastic question is one of the reasons we’re together, but also a very interesting point. Lemme explain here. This is very much a Pygmalion story in a few ways. While not a straight adaptation by any means, this film is definitely taking a few ideas from the Pygmalion trope. See, if you don’t know, Pygmalion’s a Greek myth about a sculptor who falls in love with his statue. It’s been adapted multiple times throughout the history of the arts, but the most prominent version of this was the stage musical My Fair Lady, famously adapted into a film starring Audrey Hepburn in 1964.

And again, a lot of adaptations of that, too. While Pretty Woman isn’t explicitly an adaptation of either work, the themes are still present in the work. So, yeah, it’s a good point. In this version, she’s changing him as much as he’s changing her. The sculpture is sculpting the sculptor. Which is cool.

And then, as we had that cute little revelation, Vivian tells Edward that she loves him. And OH FUCK. It’s the last day. And when he says he doesn’t want this to be the last of them together, she takes it as romantic. But when he essentially proposes making her a beck-and-call girl, putting her up in an apartment and hooking her up with dresses...she’s understandably not interested. She says that, as a little girl, she dreamed of a white knight that would sweep her off her feet and take her away. But Edward isn’t that knight.

Have I mentioned how much I love Vivian? Because Vivian’s fuckin’ fantastic, Jesus Christ.

Edward decides to leave, and says that he’s done all he can at this point. He leaves, and she’s shattered. Kit, meanwhile, comes to visit her at the hotel, and she admits that she’s fallen in love with him. While Kit’s initially worried about it, she says that they could maybe settle down and buy some diamonds and a horse. I also love Kit.

Meanwhile, at the meeting with Mr. Morse, Edward turns the tables on Phil and his yes-men, and asks to speak with Mr. Morse alone. Phil’s gobsmacked by this, but agrees. Once they’re alone, Edward admits that he no longer wishes to buy his company and destroy it. Instead, he wants to help him rebuild his company. And Morse agrees, telling Edward that he’s proud of him.

Phil, EXTREMELY irritated by this, and decided to make his way to talk to Edward at the hotel. And that’s when he finds Vivian. FUUUUUUUUCK. As expected, Phil tries to r*pe her, and that’s when Edward shows up, and BEATS THE FUCK OUT OF HIM.

Edward tells Phil off, calling him an EVEN BIGGER sociopath than he is, and kicks him out. Friendship ended with Phil. Now Vivian is his best friend. But despite this, Vivian still realizes that their relationship, at least the one she wants, seems impossible. Conceding, and on his way back to New York now, Edward pays her, and tells her to call him if she ever needs anything.

But he asks her to stay one more night with him, not because of money...BUT BECAUSE OF LOVE. And she replies that she can’t...and they part ways. Vivian goes to say goodbye to Barney, who still rules. He calls a cab for her, and says that she can visit them anytime. My girlfriend says that she would leave me for Barney, and I agree. I agree so much, because she deserves the best, and the best is Barney, and I could never BE Barney.

I could never be Barney.

It’s over now, as the song in the background says, and Edward laments his lost relationship as the thunder rolls in. Vivian decides to finally go to San Francisco, and finish high school, inspired by Edward’s love and faith for her. She passes that faith onto Kit as she says goodbye. Fuuuuuuck, man, this goodbye hurts as well.

Edward goes to the lobby, and talks to Barney one last time. AND BARNEY TELLS EDWARD WHERE VIVIAN WENT, LIKE A GODDAMN CHAMPION. WHY CAN’T I BE AS PERFECT AS BARNEY????

He makes his way to her apartment, and buys flowers from a woman with a Cockney accent, WHICH IS A MY FAIR LADY REFERNCE! HOLY SHIT! He arrives in a white limo at her place, overcomes his fear of heights and climbs a fire escape in a metaphorical tower to rescue his princess.

THAT’S HOLLYWOOD, BABY! And it’s Pretty Woman as well. That was a very heartwarming film, and I’m very glad that I watched it! Is it perfect? Ehhhhhhhh, see you at the Review.

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lucasrajan · 5 years

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The story so far...

The story right now

With Oyuki on the mend following the successful purge of her enemies, Lucas is stringing together new allies as he plans his next big move.

A young healer, Cilia, crossed paths with Lucas while she was tending to the sick and wounded in refugee camps outside Ul'dah. She's now become Lucas' alchemical apprentice. Will her secret past in Ishgard give Lucas the path he needs to extend his connections deeper into the cold north? Might she be able to help him clear Sangrid of her chains? Can he keep her safe long enough? Will she realize his desire for the power she can offer him?

Lucas has his work cut out for him merging Oyuki’s old information network into his network — or what remains of hers, anyway.The prize should still be well worth the effort of purging the cult that took it over.

Fate had a strange hand to play when Lucas began investigating the Garlean plot! Though Lucas revealed a Garlean spy to a smuggler, the smuggler panicked and shot Lucas. He was healed by a Sharlayan astralogian recently arrived in Eorzea, Cassandra Porter, hoping to rebel against the nonintervention policy of her homeland. She and Lucas have wasted no time in weaving schemes together, and her powers of divination have already proven critical in speeding along the unraveling of the Garlean plot!

Lucas has started an uneasy and potentially lethal partnership with Yasu Sasaki, an enforcer for the infamous Big Shot, a Kugane gangster. Together they are targeting Garlemald's duplicitous schemes in the eastern city, and seeking to make certain they do not extend too far into Kugane's underbelly. Will Lucas see the job through without drawing too much ire from Big Shot? Will Yasu try to kill him to avoid needless complications?

Lucas cannot help but wish he can help Sangrid reunite with her lost love. But is there any hope for a happy ending? Is tempering really at play? What lies ahead between Lucas and his most trusted guardian? The answers surely await behind another voidsent scheme!

It seems as though Lucas may well have found the solution to Master Valliere's affliction, but will the cure come without further cost? Now that the ledger is even again, will the two schemers end up as enemies or allies? Is any trust for the arrogant thaumaturge a mistake waiting to reveal itself? Lucas will have to be careful in utilizing this powerful ally!

Meanwhile, the refugee Veata Aydelotte has helped Lucas rediscover his love for dance. Early signs of a friendship are complicated by similar sins they’ve taken such different lessons from. And neither of them know how her past is about blindside Lucas’ own plans.

The Dirty Victim Job (The Garlean Plot)

Smugglers, slavers, nobles and their ilk were being blackmailed by Garlean spies in an effort to smuggle contraband and supplies into Eorzea, and to create safe havens for those sympathetic to Garlemald.

Lucas needs a more complete list of the people who are being targeted. An attempt to approach one such target, a smuggler, went disastrously, and further observation revealed it to be certain the Garlean assets are thoroughly terrified. A complete list needs to be found, as well as the evidence held against them. That should allow the authorities to round up the true criminals for their own misdeeds and/or free those who are merely victims. Either way, they won't be helping Garleans anymore.

A spy Lucas tortured revealed two details: The Garleans have a ledger kept somewhere in Eorzea, and in addition they're operating in a Kugane warehouse. Lucas compiled a list of possible Garlean safehouses, but there are too many options to search without notice with any reasonable speed.

R'adevh Khav, a pickpocket who impressed Lucas when she managed to pilfer a pickpoket challenge he carries around, further proved herself with a series of introductory jobs. Since then, she's helped him put the pieces of the puzzle together, and found the plot is bigger than Lucas learned.

R'adevh Khav found information on Jurmin Waller, a man who connects mercenaries and guards to clients in need of security services. She learned:

Waller is in deep with a Garlean intelligence team that has him by the throat with some sort of blackmail that has him terrified. As a result, it seems he's been instilling Garlean operatives into Eorzean organizations. For how long? That's the question.

In addition to Waller's proclivity for gambling at the Gold Saucer, he spends a lot of time betting on matches in the Wolves' Den. But what's more interesting is the amount of time he spends beneath the arena in the training areas seeing to it that a young miqo'te fighter, W'kultha Irel, has the resources and healing she needs.

Waller has some sort of big contract coming up.

With her powers of Divination, Cassandra Porter discovered the ledger is kept in a ship west of Eorzea. I'radebh Tykah, an adventurer Lucas pays on retainer, spent a week scouting on various ferries west of Limsa Lominsa, tracking the movements of ships. Her information, when compared to details from the divination, narrowed the target down to a ship that drfits just out of the range of the usual patrols.

Now Lucas will take all he can to Chief Sergeant O'rylah Yelho of the Twin Adders.

The Big Break

Not so long ago, it all came together for Lucas when he pulled off a job behind enemy lines.

Read about that here: https://lucasrajan.tumblr.com/post/185849970901/a-payoff-five-years-coming

It all traces back to the start

Everything that has happened so far had a first step. Here’s a quick timeline:

Lucas returns to Ul’dah

Lucas begins to conceive a plan to take a swing at the Empire behind their front lines and aid the Eorzean Alliance

Lucas reconnects with Iona Falconstone, who he trusts to help keep him in line

Lucas sells all his goods (For funding!)

Lucas meets Madeleine Pellegrin, who is a nice lady!

Lucas meets Ea Sangrid, whose skill he is impressed with

Lucas meets O’rylah Yelho, whose skill he is impressed with. Her connection to the Order of the Twin Adder and her veteran experience makes her a solid key to legitimizing insurgent action.

Lucas conceives of a plan to high high value targets behind enemy lines and damage Garlean logistical lines. He plans to promise conscripts freedom for their aid, but expects them to die in his plan.

Lucas sells most of his his high value, rare finds (for funding!)

Lucas seduces Oyuki Shirai, a xaela warrior who started an information network in Eorzea before fleeing to Kugane when her officers betrayed her. He needs her knowledge to round the network up for himself. Or did she seduce him to enlist his aid?

Lucas meets Captain Blacke, whose talents and assets could be critical, especially if Iona trusts him

Iona warns Lucas of the dangers of arrogance. He realizes how arrogant he has been to think a conscript’s life forfeit.

Lucas’ brother is killed on the front lines

Lucas decides he will instead use his sample of a disease he took when curing Ea Sangrid to try and concoct a biological weapon, and unleash it behind enemy lines at those critical points.

Madeleine unwittingly convinces Lucas not to be so cold hearted, and successfully gets Lucas to agree not to take too great of risks.

Lucas is still tempted to try and manipulate the (perhaps void cult member?) person responsible for Sangrid’s illness to work with him on a weapon, but early negotiations fail. In a later conversation, Lucas finds himself reaffirming to Madeleine that he will take care, and at last he completely abandons the notion of using a disease.

Lucas formulates a new plan. He wants to free conscripts at an inconvenient time for the Empire, without them realizing it, and leave a battlefront without critical reinforcements at a key moment. He wants to work with those conscripts to sabotage high value operations.

Lucas reconnects with Jaran Dotharl, whose engineering prowess may be key to his plan.

Lucas and Sangrid scout the mission objectives and build a general plan

Lucas and Jaran scout Caeru for further information, and to steal valuable items that later help shape the first mission’s plan.

Sangrid continues to scout and gathers intelligence that will likely be of value during the operation.

The operation happens (See The Big Break above)

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seventhstar · 6 years

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spy zine promo, part 1

anyways i’ve had this fucking burn notice au lying about half-written for eighty years, so here, enjoy. this a promo fic for @yoispyzine. we are on sale now here!

update: part two here

“My name is Katsuki Yuuri. I used to be a spy, until…”

When you’re burned, Yuuri thinks, you have nothing. No cash, no credit, no job history. You’re stuck in whatever city they decide to dump you in. You’re stuck living wherever you can find an unscrupulous landlord who’ll rent you a place without a lease or a background check.

Even if that means living directly over a swinger’s club.

Yuuri has slept in the desert during artillery fire. Yuuri has slept on a college campus during dubstep night. Yuuri has even slept through Minako snoring. But nothing could have prepared him for Viktor Nikiforov’s string of passive aggressive one night stands, all of which seem to end with him and his hapless victim rutting against Yuuri’s front door.

Once might have been an accident; twice might have been coincidence. Seven times is a pattern. A petty, awful, sexy pattern. He’s not even sure what Viktor’s endgame is--if he’s being punished because Viktor is still mad about Yuuri breaking up with him by fleeing the country, or if this is Viktor’s way of seducing him. Both of those are terrible options, because it’s not like Yuuri has gotten over Viktor, and it’s definitely not like he’s not spending his nights hard and aching and longing with the knowledge that Viktor is only ten feet away.

Either way. It has to stop. And not just because Viktor sounds like he’s enjoying himself thoroughly every evening, and Yuuri knows that if he was weak enough to open his front door and interrupt, Viktor would let Yuuri have him. Even a saint’s self control would be tested by Viktor shamelessly begging to be fucked ten feet from Yuuri’s bed.

“Tell me you found something.”

Phichit sighs. Chris sighs even louder. They probably practiced this instead of doing any work. Yuuri counts five empty beer bottles on the kitchen counter, and notes the open Photoshop window on Phichit’s laptop. He’s been sitting outside a noodle shop for six hours, waiting for his old handler to pass by, and so far has had no luck. Eventually, Celestino will have to come by the only place in Hasetsu where decent Italian food is sold. But that still leaves Yuuri unsuccessful, tired, sweaty, out of cold beer, and trapped in a loft apartment situated over an illegal sex club.

An illegal sex club his so-called friends refuse to help him put out of business.

“You know, Yuuri, just because you aren’t getting laid doesn’t mean you have to be bitter,” Chris says. He waggles his eyebrows. “It’s really a nice club. Very comfortable.”

“No,” Yuuri says. He cannot imagine being comfortable anywhere where people are having sex, in pubic, repeatedly. The whole place is probably like a public locker room, but with more semen. It probably smells like sweaty ass. It’s probably profoundly unsexy, like used toilet paper, or puppies, or Yuuri when he’s not pretending to be someone else.

“Just fuck him already,” Phichit says.

Yuuri hates it when he does that. Is he secretly a mind-reader? Can’t he let Yuuri repress in peace?

“I told you. He’s tactical support.”

“Is ‘tactical support’ Japanese for ‘guy I wanna bang’?”

“Phichit!”

“What?”

“Are you going to help me get rid of the club?”

“Who’s getting rid of the club?” Viktor asks. Yuuri turns; he didn’t even hear Viktor come in. “And why?”

Viktor sidles up behind him; his fingers brush across the back of Yuuri’s shoulder. Yuuri doesn’t shiver, but it’s a near thing. He waits for Viktor to move away, but he doesn’t. His breath is hot against Yuuri’s ear.

“Yuuri,” he says.

“Viktor.”

“I brought you breakfast.”

“It’s two pm.”

“There are hash browns.”

Yuuri glares at the floor. Viktor knows he’s weak for fried potatoes. He accepts the bag Viktor is proffering and opens it. The hash browns smell amazing, and they’re still warm.

“I thought Carlito’s didn’t serve breakfast after eleven,” Chris says.

“Oh, Raul made an exception for me.”

“Is he the one you’re fucking?”

Viktor hums in thought. “…yes?”

“Anyways,” Yuuri says. He shoves a hash brown in his mouth — it’s fluffy inside, crispy outside, dusted with salt — and groans with pleasure. He is supposed to be on a diet. First Viktor ruined sex and now he’s ruining food, too. “There’s no way this club isn’t committing a crime.”

“…about that,” Chris says. He sounds entirely innocent.

Yuuri is suspicious as hell. “What?”

“If you really want to investigate the club, I have an in,” he says. “But you have to promise you’ll take the job.”

“Is this about your bootleg sex toys?”

“They’re not my bootlegs! And it’s a legitimate public health issue!”

“It’ll get me into the club?”

“It’ll let you find out everything you could possibly want to know.”

Yuuri squints at Chris, who grins. Phichit grins, too. Yuuri can’t see Viktor, but he’s probably smiling, too.

Yuuri is so fucked.

“Fine.”

“…you own the club downstairs.”

“That’s right. I’m Shanice.”

“And you want me to help you keep the place open.”

“Look, I’m trying to create a safe space for people to explore their desires without being shamed. I started this place after I moved here with my husband and he then ran off in the middle of the night with all the money. It’s all I have. Hideki and his crew want to turn this place into one of their brothels. Which would you rather live above?”

Yuuri stares at her. If he lived above a brothel, Viktor couldn’t get laid there. On the other hand, Hideki is a human trafficking piece of shit. If Yuuri was a better person, this would be no choice at all.

As it is, he can’t stop himself from regretting having moral standards, just for a moment.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he says. “On one condition.”

“I can’t believe you had me banned,” Viktor says. He’s sitting in Yuuri’s favorite chair, bare feet propped up on the coffee table, ankles crossed. He’s wearing jeans and a plain tshirt, and glittery highlighter. The highlighter is tacky. He looks deeply irritated.

Yuuri keeps looking at him, torn: one hand, this is hilarious, and on the other hand, Viktor has a point, Yuuri is being petty as hell. Whatever. Viktor should have expected this. He knows how much Yuuri loves sleep.

“You deserve it.”

“You realize I can get laid elsewhere?”

“I don’t care about you getting laid, I want to sleep for eight hours uninterrupted.”

“You once slept through a volcano erupting.”

“The volcano was in another state and I was drugged.” Yuuri sighs. “Never mind. The job.”

“Mm.” Viktor picks up one of the files sitting on the desk. Phichit and Chris came by earlier with the results of their recon, and now they’re off dealing with one of Phichit’s internet people’s minor blackmail problem. They’d promised to be back in the evening to get the details ironed out.

Which leaves Yuuri with Viktor to figure out the approach. Hideki and his goons generally come by once a week to do their ‘give us your club or we’ll ruin your business’ song and dance, but Hideki himself comes by even more often to enjoy the club’s services. According to Shanice, he’s driving off customers with his bad manners and the way he treats his subs.

“Some of these subs are are probably bodyguards in disguise,” Viktor muses. “He never comes with one?”

“Shanice says he always has a naked woman on a leash with him. And he rents the back room for business meetings, and he provides them with subs, and sometimes they mysteriously wash up on the beach with stab wounds in the groin.”

“A two man job, then. You need someone to play sub for you.”

“I guess.”

“Unless you want to be stabbed in the dick.”

“You in?” Yuuri asks.

Viktor snorts.

“Okay, I’ll just ask Chri—”

“Fine, I’ll do it.” Viktor leans back in his chair, ankles crossed, and taps his lip with his index finger, the way he does when he’s thinking. “Just like old times,” he murmurs, smiling to himself, and Yuuri shivers. That’s the whole problem, he thinks, but he nods.

Taking his ex-boyfriend, who used to actually let Yuuri sexually dominate him, on this mission is a terrible, terrible idea. Either Phichit or Chris would be safer options. Yuuri shouldn’t.

Viktor traces the floor plan of the club, and says, “Tonight?”

“We can plant the bug, yeah. Phichit and Chris can put together my cover.”

“And mine?”

“If anyone asks you anything, play dumb.”

“Tch.” Viktor rolls his eyes, but Yuuri ignores him. Viktor is exceptional at playing dumb. Despite being almost six feet and made mostly of muscle, he always manages to give the impression that he’s soft, harmless, and stupid. Even though he destroyed Yuuri completely within the first minute of their first meeting.

“I’ll meet you here at nine,” Yuuri says. He gets up. “Wait, are you just doing this to get unbanned from the club?”

“You’ve caught me,” Viktor says, laughing, and he’s still chuckling behind his hand as Yuuri slips out of the apartment, the door closing behind him.

Yuuri picks up his dry cleaning so he’ll have clothes for the club tonight, buys some ugly sunglasses as part of his disguise because he doesn’t want his good Armani ones associated with this shitty cover, and scouts out the workplace of a potential government contact for his burn notice for three hours. Then, before he can think better of it, he stops at a pet store and buys a plain black collar and a leash.

#yoi #yuri on ice #yoi spy zine #fanfiction #victuuri #promo fic

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heroofkvackers · 5 years

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mkay lore time and some explanation (wall of text, pls be prepared lmao)

About time that I have time to fully establish the headcanon lore of my Champion of Cyrodiil-turned-Last Dragonborn, which might help in connecting the timeline of the fourth and fifth games of the franchise, Oblivion and Skyrim smoothly. Hopefully there are no plot holes, but if there are any, I’ll be glad to add something in that could tie the ends together :D

Wulfgar Silver-Tongue first came into Nirn on 3E 401 in the Imperial City, therefore making him 32 years old when the Oblivion Crisis hit the entire continent of Tamriel. He was raised to be a bard and a Nine Divine worshipper, but found passion in fencing and sword-fighting later in his teenage years. How he ended up in prison was...quite the scandalous thing. One day, he stumbled upon a beautiful woman while sitting in Tiber Septim Hotel (no, not Augusta Calidia), and he decided to seduce her with his lute and singing, and actually succeeded for a time during the events of Morrowind (while the Nerevarine did his prophesy things lmao)...only to be found out by the real husband of this woman, an Imperial Guard captain. In the beginning months of 3E 433, he was hastily thrown into prison, now devoid of many of his belongings, leaving him with essentially nothing to live with. His lute was even taken away from him. After a few months, however, news reached the Imperial City that the Emperor’s (legitimate) sons were all assassinated by the Mythic Dawn, and the Blades quickly reacted to the incident by taking the Emperor to the Imperial prison, where a secret passageway out of the Imperial City just so happened to go through his very cell. When the Emperor realized that Wulfgar, as deprived as he is, was the same figure that he’s seen in his visions, he told the Nord, with heartbreak and melancholic acceptance, that he was his only hope of finding his very last son. Realizing that his life was meaningful after all he had just gone through, he took up the responsibility and returned back to honing his skills in swordplay and a little bit of destruction and illusion magic, to help defend the Empire until his very last breath, becoming Archmage, and Master of the Fighter’s Guild before going to Weynon Priory to give the Amulet of Kings to Jauffre. His heart was changed to the extent that he even helped raise the marauder siege upon Battlehorn Castle, where he lived for some time before tiring of the luxury it brought with its restoration to go live in Cheydinhal for the rest of his life. When Martin Septim left the world by transforming into the avatar of Akatosh to fight Mehrunes Dagon, Wulfgar, now the Champion of Cyrodiil, went into a period of mourning for several months, disappearing into the common crowd, his fanaticism for the Empire subsiding, before hearing about the looming threat of yet another Daedric power wishing to destroy his homeland. That alone helped him gather up courage again to continue doing a service to the Empire, as well as working for the Nine Divines, allowing himself to be put back into public attention as a Champion of the Divines. Unwillingly, however, he mantled Pelinal Whitestrake through his effort, and soon developed a small amount of madness, but not enough to do something ridiculous....for a certain amount of time. As his firm sanity allowed it, he did not once step foot into the Shivering Isles, owing to his knowledge of the Daedric princes he read through the books he gathered during the Oblivion Crisis, fearing for his own sanity being sucked away if he were to go into the realm of Sheogorath. Yes, that means he allowed the Greymarch to happen once more. I’d like to think that some other person took up the mantle instead. Now you’re wondering “But Sheo is the Hero of Kvatch! There’s no changing that because of his dialogue!” Here’s my headcanon’s explanation of Sheo’s dialogue in Skyrim that suggests other possible explanations.

“Butterflies” could also mean the butterflies you see flying all over Cyrodiil. They’re all over the place. You cant really catch them like in Skyrim though, obviously. A more commonly accepted explanation is the butterflies you see at the very beginning of the Shivering Isles main questline. Anyone other than the Hero could have seen the butterflies when they’re entering the portal, though. Also, they’re everywhere in the Shivering Isles.

“Blood” could very well point to the Blood of the Divines and Daedra quest in the main questline. However, judging by the bloodshed that happened during the mass invasion of the Imperial City in the last scene of the main questline, it could also mean that. Many people were witnesses to this.

“A fox” obviously means the fabled Grey Fox thief figure. As the game explained explicitly, however, there are people who believe in the Gray Fox, and there are also those who don't believe. Its all over Cyrodiil.

“Severed head” is obviously a reference to the Dark Brotherhood. The nature of the Elder Scrolls, however, permit the explanation that if the Hero doesn't complete the questline, someone else does the questline for him. Besides, Wulfgar does not take kindly to those who worship something that is perceived to be evil and has no solid form. As a matter of fact, when Lucien visited him after he accidentally killed Glarthir in the midst of the Mages Guild questline, he brutally killed Lucien himself, as he is a very angry man when interrupted from his sleep. Besides, he found no reason to join the Dark Brotherhood over an accidental kill.

..not to mention that Glarthir did not have to seek him out while he's fighting a group of necromancers out in the open. Honestly though.

“Oh, and the cheese! To die for.” could mean the Sheogorath shrine questline, where he (spoiler alert) asks the Hero to steal some Olroy cheese to start the “apocalypse” in Border Watch. Like I said, if the Hero doesn't do the quest, someone else takes his place.

“You know, I was there for the whole sordid affair.” Now that dialogue is interesting. But hear me out. Sheogorath is the Daedric Prince of Madness. The wiki did put in the note that he could have been watching the whole affair and therefore could be throwing the player of Skyrim off. Mehrunes Dagon invading Tamriel was a huge event, and its quite hard for the other Daedric princes to not ignore it, as no other princes would have dared to have done that.

Anyway because I have a mod for what happens after gathering the Relics, he also helped thwart a false Ayleid emperor off his throne to restore peace to the entirety of Cyrodiil, so it would not fall under Ayleid rule and slavery once more after 3 eras of absence. Those of you who have this particular mod would know what I mean ;)

Soon after that, however, the Empire declared the Mage’s Guild guilty (when they're not) of starting the Oblivion Crisis, kicking him out of the Archmage position.

After all the chaos subsided, Wulfgar finally went back to a normal, quiet life, disguising himself as a daily pilgrim of the Divines, until one day, whoever took the throne of Sheogorath spoke to him within a dream in 4E 9.

“Wulfgar...since you’re so dedicated to your boring little pilgrimage to the Aedra...how about I make things more interesting for you?”

“The Daedric Prince of Madness? What do you wish to do with me at this point?” Wulfgar spoke, timidly.

“If you are truly that dedicated as the famed Divine Crusader that everyone praises, I shall now test your sanity for three days by trying to thwart you on every turn you make. It is good entertainment for me after all.”

Now that is a reflection to a certain book you may see in Skyrim and the Shivering Isles, in particular.

He lasted for two days. Until the very last day, when he finally lost it and went on a murderous spree in the Nibenay region for several more days, seeking out only elves, practically mirroring exactly what Pelinal did right before the fall of the Ayleid empire, until he blacked out on the Fredas of that week. By then, he lost much of his reputation as the famed Champion of Cyrodiil, and instead gained fear from those who remember the tales of Pelinal Whitestrake. After he woke up, groggy and exhausted, he opened his eyes to the destruction he caused in the region, only to realize that the damage was irreversibly done. He was now shunned and feared. His only choice at this point to avoid any more complications is to drop the mantle of the Divine Crusader, which he promptly did. Later in his life, he also abandoned his status as Champion of Cyrodiil, effectively wiping his own name from history. He then passed away in 4E 49, just one year after the Umbriel Crisis, at the age of 81. He was then reincarnated as the Last Dragonborn in 4E 168, given a dragon’s soul by Akatosh as a gift for his services to the Empire in the time of Oblivion, shortly before the Great War. That also makes him 33 years old at the time of the Alduin crisis, and his soul just over 300 years old.

...damn. This is the longest post to date. But yeah, there it is. XP. Yes I know, I rushed through it towards the end. Like I said, if there are any details you wish for me to clarify, I’ll be glad to explain what happened.

#character lore #tes iv oblviion #tes v skyrim #ldb #hok #coc #champion of cyrodiil #hero of kvatch #the last dragonborn #sheogorath #daedric prince of madness #wulfgar silver-tongue #long post #wink wonk hes one of my select heroes of kvatch to not have mantled sheogorath

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armsdealing · 6 years

Text

* COURNEUVE’S INNER CIRCLE.

The Inner Circle comprises Renaud’s most trusted, reliable, and committed members. They’re his main vessels, and they oversee everything that happens in Courneuve, both the place and the organization. Over the decades they’ve seen members come and go, including losing some prior IC-level members as well, but as of the last twenty years the line-up has stayed solid.

These people come from all sorts of backgrounds, from all sorts of time periods, but they’ve got two things in common -- their skillset is appealing to Renaud, and they’re willing to go the extra mile. They also all happen to be quite susceptible to Renaud’s possession, with the rare quality of being able to meld their minds with him. As a result, Renaud influences their personalities, but they also influence Renaud’s.

Warnings underneath the cut for: talk of drugs, crime, violence, alcohol, etc.

CASSANDER LANE.

He was originally an immigrant in France in the early twentieth century. When he met Renaud he was on deathrow for murder. After accepting his deal, Renaud worked his influence to make the charges on him disappear and forge him a new identity: Cassander Lane, born in Saint-Malo.

He doesn't disclose much on his past pre-Renaud and he is in fact largely a mystery to most of the inner circle, even those that have known him for decades. Besides the deathrow thing, the other thing they do know is that he was involved in the manufacturing of heroin in Corsica, and the trafficking from Corsica to other parts of the world. This would explain his deep knowledge of opium-based products.

Not known to anyone but Adrienne is that he was also partook frequently in his own product as well as alcohol. He’s developed a distaste for it, though he’ll still dabble.

He’s closest to Adrienne because of the time they’ve been together in this. He’s also on good terms with Marcos.

He’s an extremely good safecracker and designs plans and strategies with clockwork precision. He runs the building efficiently, acting as the landlord and the most visible member of the circle inside the building. People are actually convinced he’s Renaud himself.

A quiet, mild-mannered guy. He always seems to be thinking of something.

ADRIENNE SAO.

Out of them all she's the one that can use Renaud's illusory powers the best. even better than Cassander, though she's not been around as much as he has. She can make people hallucinate even while they are awake and sometimes tap people out of their senses... which is great for espionage because she can just make people not hear or see shit. She could be right in front of you and you wouldn't be able to notice up until she touched you, which is when the illusion breaks down.

She's got as much a mysterious background as Cassander, perhaps even more so since she reveals nothing. As far as everyone else knows she was born and grew up in Paris and she has no living family and that's about it.

There’s more than passing reason, however, to believe she comes from a couple of early-Cold War spooks that worked for French intelligence.

Her fighting style is greatly based on both Karate and Hapkido, both disciplines which she's mastered.

The right-hand. She’s closest to Cass for obvious reasons, and Dahlia bc she's cute.

Blunt, callous, cruel, assertive. Sees the world as one big playground. Though Cassander designs the plans, it is Adrienne who executes and leads them to completion.

MARCOS TORRALBA.

His childhood was spent in Juarez, Mexico until he was on his teens, then he moved to the capital to live with his grandmother after his parents’ passing.

From the start he showed a talent for languages and entrepreneurship. He was good at talking his way in and out of places. He had an impressive grasp of English at mere 10 years old and often acted as translator, messenger or spy for a few unsavory characters in his hometown.

On his teens he took a different approach and started learning languages from a professional perspective, which was something that his grandmother stressed for him. He perfected his English and enrolled in French classes. He studied tourism in college.

Of the circle he probably has the cleanest background, second perhaps to Dahlia and no one else. He's had brushes with the illicit side of things but he's kept things legitimate. He worked as a translator for businesses at the same time as he started to learn other key languages like German and Japanese.

His "recruiting" process was likely.... simpler or less flashy than others maybe. He was lured by the idea of wealth and "wrongness" of the whole thing. He became more committed as he went along.

Renaud got him the job at the Park Hyatt Paris Vendome, or at least put the right things on the table to make it happen and let Marcos do the rest. He wanted to turn Marcos into his asset, which was a familiar (but not unwelcome) feeling. He was great for the job of concierge — charisma, sociability, creativity, a natural helpful air, a trustworthiness to him. Marco's role, given by Renaud is basically information gathering by any means necessary for blackmail/recruitment purposes.

He's pretty seductive and uses that as a weapon as well. The horror aspect of Renaud is downplayed, and instead it's the lustful/enticing side of his "magic" that's played up. He’s a freak.

DAHLIA BOUHOUCHE.

Dahlia had the most normal background of the whole inner circle. She wasn't prone to criminal activity before her recruitment and she led a fairly ordinary lifestyle previous to it.

She wasn't so much lured by riches or power as she was lured by Renaud himself. Her relationship with Renaud is.... How can I say this.......... More emotional? Like if I had to say which one actually had feelings for Reanud, it would be her. That isn't to say she is legitimately in love but that she might be more devout from that angle. And in the other hand we have the fact that Renaud could be considered protective of her. He’s fond of Dahlia.

Not unlike Marcos she has a more welcoming air to her. She seduces and manipulates people. She has a great persuasive ability, definitely enhanced by Renaud. She seems the “weak link”, and this serves a purpose -- it makes people underestimate her, when she’s also pretty formidable in her own right (in no small part thanks to Adrienne’s involvement).

She's closest to Adrienne and Marcos. Adrienne has a dominant, leader personality that she responds to well and Marcos is just likable and friendly in general. She gets along with Cass and respects him for being the main vessel, but they're not close. And Matthew's vulgar demeanor is kinda off putting so she doesn't go out of his way to talk to him.

On her own she's pretty sweet and quiet, she might give off a shy air when she isn't on a "mission". She seems the most humane of them all. She doesn’t live in the building, but in a more strategic flat in the heart of Paris with Marcos. Both of them frequent Courneuve, though.

MATTHEW SPECTOR.

Rough, mob-riddled background. He enlisted in the French Foreign Legion to leave that behind.

After a few years of active duty he suffered a life threatening injury in combat, which finished his military career. He was given French citizenship due to Français par le sang versé, French by spilled blood.

In reality, Matthew would've most certainly died if it weren't for Renaud. Renaud essentially saved Matthew's life in exchange for his services - he's got elite military training, and is probably the most skilled fighter bar Adrienne, where she has a bit of an edge.

He's skilled with long ranged killing techniques and clean murders but specializes, by own admission, in torture and butchery.

He's sadistic, cruel and ruthless beyond compare. He is likened to an attack dog. He doesn't care about material goods as much as the others and is instead there for the possibility to freely enact violence.

He was the last one to join the inner circle and doesn't have as strong a relationship with the others as they have amongst themselves. He has a bit of a rivalry/antagonistic relationship with Adrienne but since she's higher in the hierarchy he does as she says and considers the banter entertaining. He gets along well enough with Marcos (Marcos has the ability to get along with anyone, for which he sometimes acts a mediator/voice of reason in this group), and thinks Dahlia is alright but he doubts they'll ever be best friends. Cass intrigues him, but Cass intrigues everyone tbqh he's weird.

Although he most often takes an offensive stance, he leads the crew that protects the complex from aggressive outsiders, and they make a point to keep tenants safe from any threats looking to ‘take down’ Renaud.

#filed under: the courneuve cult.#* courneuve.#* renaud.#hc.#long post

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therisinggear · 4 years

Text

Bityd Pederthi

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General Information

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Full Name: Bityd Pederthi

Titles/Nickname: The Dragonborn, The Shadow Queen.

Gender: Female

Race: Dunmer (Vampire)

Age: 78 (chronologically) 28 (biologically)

Sexuality Pansexual

Birth Sign: The Lover

Birth Place: Bitter Coast

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Physical Characteristics

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"A dark beauty with a heart of a monster"

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She has the figure of a curvaceous woman with a glamorous taste in fashion. She makes no attempt to hide her figure with revealing clothing that shows off her large bust and long legs. Like most Dunmer she has grayish-blue skin red eyes and white hair. She keeps the middle of her hair long but keeps the sides shaved. She has a dark blue tattoo her right cheek that seems to cover a scar. She has a taste for gold jewelry with Sapphires and diamonds being her favorite gemstones.

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Mental Characteristics

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In her early life, she was given taught basic reading and writing by her mother before she died. When a 6-year-old Bityd's family was killed from an illness she had to learn to survive on her own in the slums of Morrowind. Teaching herself many different trades to support herself. As a teenager she apprenticed under a band of thieves, learning how to pick locks pickpocket and even infiltrate houses undetected. The gold she earned as a thief allowed her to study other crafts as well, Like blacksmithing and Jewelry making. The thieves even teach her how to invest gold into legitimate businesses as fronts for criminal activity. This carried on even in Skyrim where she is responsible for the creation of three whole towns. (Heljarchen, Lakeview & Windsted) Building these towns as a kennel of sorts for her and her Vampire minions have a plentiful supply of blood.

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Arsenal

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"If you don't fear me then it's not too late to start!"

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She prominently wears a modified set of Royal Vampire armor which boosts her magika regeneration by 100%. Her weapons of Choice are swords and daggers. She is a competent archer but hardly uses a bow. She uses magical enchantments to give herself an advantage. With the Rings of Blood magic, she has a larger pool of magika and the Ethereal Crown allowing her to learn at an accelerated rate.

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Magical Knowledge

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A self-taught prodigy who learns through practice and trial and error she didn't have formal schooling in magic tell well after she migrated to Skyrim where she joined the mages college briefly. On a later trip to Solstheim, she studied under Master Neloth of house Talvanni. A prodigy by nature all she ever needed to learn new spells was a tome and some practice. A master of destruction magic she is also gifted in conjuration and enchantment. The illusion school is the only school she was in trouble with.

Over time She has created her own spells like the atronach weapons and The Chaos Cloak. After a incident with haunted mannequins that she refuses to talk about, she was inspired to create Armored Combat Mannequins powered by black soul gems. Designed to stand guard as unassuming suits of armor and then attack with the relentlessness of a feral beast.

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Powers

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As a Dark elf, she is resistant to fire, especially for a vampire. She can transform into a Vampire lord but after 50 years can use all of its powers without transforming, but at reduced potency. Her vampire power has grown so strong she can tap into the realm of Moleg-bal (With his blessing) and use the Flames of Coldharbour. However, her vampire powers require her to feed on blood regularly to maintain. When she does transform all vampire powers are magnified 100 in addition to now able to use her dragon shouts.

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Combat Capabilities

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A Trained sword fighter from years fighting off reavers in Morrowind and bandits in Skyrim she able to handle melee combat with ease. Her style consists of using destruction magic as a distraction and crowd control, attacking with the sword while they are vulnerable. She also capable of using stealth to kill opponents before they even become a threat.

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Guilds/Affiliations

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"Skyrim belongs to me!"

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Because of her early life as a thief, she thrived in the Skyrim chapter of the Thieves Guild. Eventually becoming the Guild master ruling the criminal underworld. after some time she retired after some time to hide the fact she docent age anymore. Using her vampire clan to enthrall them into her continued service.

She briefly studied at the mages college and became the Arch-Mage before stepping down and placing a thrall as her successor. She makes a habit of placing her thralls in positions of power in major factions as figureheads so she can control them in the shadows.

The only connections that she genuinely cares for are her children, her son Blaise and daughter Lucia, And her Vampire clan. Lucia even willingly joining her mother as a vampire when she grew up. Blaise retained his humanity and wised to live as a man. By not wanting to force her gift on her child allowed him to stay human, telling him how proud she is of him. She even expresses a desire of meeting her adult Grandson Leon and welcoming him into her clan in his father's place.

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Religion

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After the death of her family, she resented the gods and turned her back on the Dunmer pantheon.

After she became a vampire latter in life she changed her mind when it came to the Daedric Prince Molag Bal, when her Dragonborn drive for power and domination complemented his. Even going as far an offering herself to him to become as pure of a vampire as she can get, despite already being a vampire lord. Technically Making her a Daughter of Coldharbour.

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Personality

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Because of her upbringing, she depends on nobody but herself and will often refuse help from others, even considering help from others to be an insult. Because of this, she has high standards for her own abilities and never settles for anything but perfection from herself.

She is a vain narcissist by nature and treats her own beauty as if it a treasure in of itself. She also is extremely selfish putting her needs above others with few exceptions. Her selfish nature doesn't mean she isn't without compassion, as she has adopted two orphaned children off the streets and gave them better lives then she did growing up. The fact they are Breton and Nord meant nothing to her and she proudly called them her Children. Even 50 years later She has an especially close relationship with her son Blaise Pederthi in spite of him refusing to let her turn him into a vampire. And even wishes to dote on and spoil her grandson Leon whom she adores. She eventually gave her son ownership of the town of Lakeview and left knowing people will catch on to her lack of aging.

In the public eye, she is a legendary hero who saved the world. But in reality, it is opportunistic ruthless and amoral. The only real reason she saved the world from Alduin and Miraak was her own self-interests. She is willing to do whatever it takes to get whatever she wants. Being a Dragonborn makes her naturally have an insatiable desire more power and domination over anyone weaker then her.

She also has strong hedonistic tendencies, often over indulging in any form of pleasure she can. Known to seduce mortals of any race or gender on a whim and killing them after they sleep with her.

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Backstory

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Childhood: Born into a poor family the oldest of three she and her sibling would sometimes go without food. then illness killed her parents and her brother and sister not long after. She would have died herself if not for a travailing healer who cured the survivors but was too late to save her family. Sometime after she was homeless and alone with only the rags on her back and a book on destruction magic to her name. Cursing the gods for why she had to suffer. Two thieves found her one day in a market district stealing an apple and half-starved and took her in.

Teenage years: She spent her teenage years learning everything the thieves could teach them and become an accomplished thief herself while still learning Magic and picking up blacksmithing to make counterfeit jewelry. (Developing her fondness for jewelry in the process)

Adulthood: She migrated to Skyrim illegally after her criminal activity in Morrowind caught up to her and had the luck of getting caught in a Stormclock ambush. After the timely attack of Alduin she was able to escape with her life but once again homeless and without a single septum to her name. She quickly joined the local thieves guild to start her search for wealth all over again. Sometime after she adopted two orphans and became even more obsessed with wealth and power. After joining the Dawnguard, she came across a mysterious woman named Serana who asked her to take her home. Thinking there might be a reward in it escorted her to Castle Volkihar. Serana's father Harkon offered to turn her into a vampire and she jumped at the chance for more power, betraying the Dawnguard without a second thought.

Present: 50 Years after killing Alduin, Meraak and Harkon she rules Skyrim from the shadows with the world believing her gone and celebrated as a hero. Her grandson Leon returns home from serving the empire unknown to him he is going to meet his Grandma.

#skyrim elder scrolls #darkelf #vampire #dunmer #elder scrolls

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acapelladitty · 7 years

Note

Dunno if you're taking prompts but someone on here got me round to the idea of Selina/Harvey, so twocats fic mayhaps? Maybe Selina seduces him then robs him.

I am THRILLED to oblige!! Selina Kyle and Harvey Dent is a good ship my guy xx

“Iknow you understand how serious this is if I am coming to youfor help,” a scarred hand tapped impatiently on the heavy woodendesk which sat in the centre of the small room, “given ourhistory.”

“AwwHarvey,” placing a hand across her chest in mock forgiveness,Selina gave him a false smile, “that is all in the past! I hadalmost completely forgotten about that misguided attempt you made todunk me in a bath of acid. I mean, what’s a little attempted murderbetween friends?”

Standingon the other side of the desk, Selina could feel the chill of theroom through her costume and she willed away a shiver, lest sheappear weak.

“Catsthat try to steal from us will lose their paws,” Harvey growled,“but I am willing to pay for your help this time.”

Whenshe had received a call from Harvey Dent himself requesting herservices as a master thief, Selina had been understandablysuspicious. Their last encounter had ended with her knocking himunconscious and leaving him to the mercy of the next person tostumble across his body, however, he had assured her on the phonethat his offer was legitimate and that no grudge was being held.

Shehad arrived to the assigned meeting excessively early to allowherself to assess the building and assure that she was not being ledinto an trap, and she was pleased to note that her investigations hadcome up with nothing.

Itseemed that Harvey Dent was in actual need of her.

Howthe tables had turned.

Hislack of obvious aggression and uncharacteristic politeness towardsher so far had piqued her interest though and she was genuinelycurious as to his intent.

“SoHarv, why am I here? What do you need the big bad cat to steal foryou?”

Witha sweet smile, she placed herself on his desk and stretched, archingher back sensually and confident in the knowledge that he would notmove to stop her.

“Aweapons shipment which was intended for me has been stolen,” Harveyanswered, “and I want you to take it back.”

Pullinghis coin from his front pocket, Harvey started to casually flip it ashe explained Selinas’ task to her. His gaze was focused on her facebut she was quick to notice it dipping to her exposed cleavage everyfew moments.

Predictable.

Shewatched the flipping coin as it sailed up through the air in aperfect arc before falling back into Harvey’s scarred palm with athinly veiled fascination as she asked.

“Who’sthe mark?”

“RolandDaggert. The bastard. He thinks he can steal from us and get awaywith it!” Squeezing his fist hard across the coin, Selina could seethe whites of Harveys’ knuckles as his anger manifested itself. “Iwant you to steal them back and you’re welcome to anything else thattakes your fancy.”

“AwwHarv, you shouldn’t have.” She purred, leaning forward to run ahand along his arm and feel the tense muscles which lay beneath thesuit fabric. “So what do I need to do?”

“Youneed to break into his office building and hack his computer systems.The location of my guns should be on that system.”

Frowning,Selina had to ask, “And do you have the electronic key which I willneed to enter the system? Daggert uses the latest anti-hackingtechnologies and I will not be able to get in without it.”

“What’sthe matter, cat?” Raising his one good eyebrow, Harvey’s tone helda teasing edge to it. “Unable to get past a simple security system?And they say that you’re the best…”

Flushingwith indignation, Selina tilted her head.

“Don’tbe rude Harv. I’d hate to have to scar up that handsome face ofyours. Or the handsome half, at least.” Pausing to let the insultsink in, she continued, “I would never forgive myself.”

Asshe slid off the table, Harvey notably tensed his body in preparationof a fight and Selina had to suppress a smile at his mistrust as shewalked around his seated position. Now standing behind him, sheplaced her head next to the scarred tissue which made up his left earand whispered.

“Westill have not discussed a price.”

AsHarvey turned to face her, she was pleased to see a hint of flusterin his expression as he realised that his face was now only mereinches away from her chest.

Achest which she had deliberately hunched over slightly to emphasise.

IfHarvey was not going to play her game then she would play it herself.

“Whatdo you want?”

Voicea touch deeper than it had been a moment before, Harvey tapped hisagitated fingers on the desk as he questioned her.

“Ithink I have something in mind,” the corners of her lips tugged upas Selina came up with a wicked plan, “besides a thousand in cashand anything which I steal from Daggert.”

“Whichis?”

“Akiss.”

Amixed look of surprise and suspicion crossed Harvey’s features as henarrowed his eyes at her, or at least narrowed one eye, the lack ofeyelid on the other making such a movement impossible.

“Why?”He growled.

Checkingher fingernails with disinterest, Selina shrugged.

“Callit feminine curiosity.”

Moving faster than hecould anticipate, Selina closed the space between them before dippingher head and catching Harveys’ lips in her own.

It was awkward, hissurprise at her boldness causing him to go as stiff as a board whileshe pressed her lips against his, but she felt his resolve waver andshe was quick to take the opportunity to deepen the kiss. His lipswere an odd sensation to experience as the softness of one halfconflicted with the rough and ropey scarring of the other half andher own sensitive lips were unable to determine if she liked it ornot.

He was also more gentlethan she had anticipated and she briefly wondered who exactly she waskissing in this moment.

Enjoying the kiss as itcontinued, her hand slid down Harveys’ torso and again she could feelthe hard muscle of his abdomen through his shirt and she hummed inappreciation. She did love a broad man. Allowing her hand to slip atouch lower, she lightly pawed at his pockets to determine which oneheld his wallet.

A vice-like grip seizedher wrist as Harvey broke away from the kiss.

“Nice try, Kitty.”He growled into her ear and the raw hoarseness of it caused anunexpected flip in Selinas’ stomach as she was forced to admit that,yeah, that was hot.

Straightening up andbacking away from him, Selina winked her apology.

“Sorry, Harv,”laughing she placed her hand on her hip, “old habits die hard.”

His hand havingreturned to flipping his coin, Harvey was back to business with onlythe slight reddening which sat high on his cheek and the slight tentof his trousers clues to the fact that he had enjoyed their kiss.

“Just get our weaponsback.”

Laughing openly as shewalked towards the door, Selina swung her hips with a little moreemphasis than was necessary.

“Y'know Harv,”leaning against the doorway, she paused for a moment, “if you keepup this respectful non-murderous attitude you might find yourselfhelping this kitty to scratch more than just one itch.”

Despite his mask ofneutrality, a glint of interest lit up in Harveys’ eyes and it wasall Selina needed to confirm her suspicions as to his intent withher.

She had always foundHarvey Dent attractive, even back in his days as a DA, and hissubsequent accident had done nothing to dissuade that attraction. Ifanything the element of danger and unpredictability which made himTwo Face added a level of intoxication which she was curious about.

And if this incidentwas anything to go by, he certainly wouldn’t reject a seductionattempt.

Interesting.

With much to consider,Selina waved her hand behind her as she slipped through the doorway,a small smirk settling over her mouth as she disappeared into theGotham streets.

AO3 Link - http://archiveofourown.org/works/11890560

#selina kyle #catwoman #harvey dent #two face #gotham rogues #fic #new pairing ahoy lmaooooo #Anonymous

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luninosity · 7 years

Text

Okay! New Ember & Serenity chapter properly up now! In which our heroes do some magic, talk about some things, and scandalize some bookshelves...

Read at AO3 here! Teaser below.

“I,” Ember said levelly, “am the King’s librarian, and the King’s older brother, and I can do magic. And you are a threat to the King.” He wanted his glare to be more convincing than it was. He kept getting distracted. By acrobat’s muscles. By the memory of the softness of that hair. The library doors remained closed. People no doubt waiting outside. They could wait.

Serenity scowled at him. Did not bother trying to pull away. “I’m a thief, not an assassin. It was a book. One book. And anyway you owe me.”

“I what.”

“I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.” Ember got the impression that he wanted to cross both arms and couldn’t, with one wrist imprisoned. One eyebrow tilted at him instead. Ember grumbled internally. His thief could do that too. Like Chance. Like everyone except himself, evidently. “I am good at what I do. He—my client—had no reason to try to kill me. I completed that commission. Unless you, my librarian hero, did something to un-complete it. I haven’t offended anyone else in Lyonheart that I know of. So it is clearly your fault I ended up nearly bleeding to death in an alley behind a marketplace on an island rock. And therefore you owe me.”

Ember utterly failed to think of a response to this effrontery, opened his mouth, closed it, tried again a few times. “I owe you.”

“You took my book back, didn’t you? My life’s in danger because of you.”

“That—that—I saved your life! Just now!”

“So now aren’t you responsible for me?” Big eyes. Limpid. Vulnerable: in his hands, so literally, with a tear in that silky shirt and fair skin and tumbling hair, standing before him…

He only noticed his grip’d slackened when Serenity finally managed to cross arms and take a step back. “And I’d appreciate protection. And passage on a ship headed back to Alba. Decent accommodations, if you would.”

This time Ember caught up faster, shoved him up against the nearest bookshelf, pinned those glorious wrists over his head, and demanded, “You’re not from Alba.” Not originally, not with that accent.

“Serenity Blakely, son of Alistair Blakely, the twelfth Duke of Kenton—which is in Alba, thank you—and Marina Colonna, Countess Bellini, of Verezia. Where I grew up. For the most part. In and out.” Serenity, unbothered by their respective positions, gave him an up-and-down inspection that would’ve been not out of place in an Alban ballroom: a beautiful wealthy boy considering dance partners, with the weight of two titles at his back. And then he grinned. And the world leapt to attention, ready to waltz. “At your service.”

“The twelfth Duke of Kenton doesn’t have an heir. All girls. Famous for it.” One or two of them’d hoped to marry Chance. “And you’re a thief.”

“I never said legitimate son, did I? Perhaps you ought to listen better; is it a hero trait, not hearing past the muscles? It’s hardly my fault my father’s country doesn’t acknowledge my parentage. And I’m not simply any thief. I trained under Adam Bell, and I’m better than he was at my age. I’m the third-best in the—”

“In the world, yes.” He leaned closer. Their lips nearly met. Enough for mingled breath, quickened heartbeats. The scents of dry paper and old leather bindings. The drum of adrenaline like thunder through veins. The distant crash and roll of waves outside, pounding the shore. “We’ve been warned. You seduce princes. And steal from them. Who paid you?”

“Ah, you’ve heard the Lydia Velvet story, did you like the bit about the lacy undergarments—”

Ember kissed him. Waves roared. Sunlight flooded the room: open windows at his back, glass brimming over with golden heat. His own magic, the dwindling headache, the fairness of now-healed aristocratic skin revealed under that torn shirt, Serenity’s rippling accent. Spun into a dizzying whirlwind.

#ember and serenity #original fic #fic in progress #let's just see where this wants to go

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kyukurator-blog · 7 years

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COPPOLA FILM GENES

Francis Ford Coppola’s nuclear family has amassed 8 Oscars and 24 nominations while the extended family has racked up even more awards and exerted an extraordinary influence in the arts. The Coppolas and the Hustons are the only families with Oscars spanning three generations.

At 81, Francis Ford’s wife Eleanor Coppola is making her feature film debut with Paris Can Wait. For this week’s list we take a look at the debut films of each Coppola director.

PARIS CAN WAIT (2017)

Although this is her first scripted feature, Eleanor has made several documentaries, including the remarkable Apocalypse Now documentary Hearts of Darkness.

Paris Can Wait is somewhat autobiographical. In 2009, Eleanor Coppola was accompanying her husband to the Cannes Film Festival when she fell ill and decided to stay behind as he traveled on to Budapest. A French associate of Francis’ offered to drive her to the Paris airport and a script was born.

The film stars Alec Baldwin as the director husband and Diane Lane as his wife. Arnaud Viard is the business associate, a charming Gallic rogue who is happy to squire her on a tour of some of the finest meals in Provence.

What should have been a seven-hour drive turns into a carefree two-day adventure complete with diversions involving picturesque sights, fine food and wine, humor, wisdom and romance, reawakening Anne’s senses and giving her a new lust for life.

If you are a foodie and/or Francophile than this film should hit your sweet spot.

YOU’RE A BIG BOY NOW (1966)

Francis and Eleanor had already been married for three years when this film was submitted as his graduate thesis to the UCLA film school. It subsequently became his first film to receive widespread distribution.

Sporting an electric who’s who of iconic 60’s talent that includes Karen Black, Rip Torn, Geraldine Page, Julie Harris and Elizabeth Hartman—as well as an outstanding soundtrack by The Lovin’ Spoonful—Coppola’s early gem fits somewhere between fizzy British coming-of-age comedies and the more mature attack of films like 1967’s The Graduate.

Bernard Chanticleer (Peter Kastner) is a very nice young man anxious to step out into the “adult world.” His plan is to move out of his parents’ Long Island house into an eighth-floor Greenwich Village walkup – and try to convince someone of the opposite sex to share his new “liberated lifestyle” with him.

Elizabeth Hartman bewitchingly plays the free spirit who tempts Bernard. Karen Black makes her screen debut as the love object that lovesick Bernard overlooks and Geraldine Page nearly steals the show with her Academy Award-nominated performance as Bernard’s possessive mother.

It’s a difficult film to track down with only a DVD version available on Amazon but it is a must as a precursor to Francis Ford Coppola’s later works.

CQ (2002)

Francis and Eleanor’s son Roman Coppola had already spent ten years directing commercials, music videos and second unit for his dad, sister and Wes Anderson by the time he came out with this debut feature. It centers on an international film crew making a low-budget, Barbarella-like feature in Paris in 1969. The film is called Dragonfly and is being directed by Andrezej (Gérard Depardieu), who wishes to make a revolutionary work rather than the tacky fluff it is becoming. He is fired by the film’s producer Enzo (Giancarlo Giannini) when he can’t produce a satisfactory climactic scene.

The director job is finally handed to the film’s young editor, Paul (Jeremy Davies). Paul begins to fall for the leading lady (Angela Lindvall), but must retrieve footage of the feature stolen by Andrezej and try to keep the troubled production together.

The film is an ode to the European films of the 60s: Danger: Diabolik, The 10th Victim and Modesty Blaise.

THE VIRGIN SUICIDES (2000)

Daughter Sofia Coppola’s acclaimed debut film follows the Lisbons, who on the surface appear to be a healthy, successful 1970s family living in a middle-class Michigan suburb. The dad is a math teacher and his wife is a rigid religious mother of five attractive teenage daughters who catch the eyes of the neighborhood boys.

When 13-year-old Cecilia commits suicide, the family retreats into isolation and the remaining girls are quarantined from social interaction by their protective mother. But the strategy backfires, their seclusion makes the girls even more intriguing to the obsessed boys who will go to absurd lengths for a taste of the forbidden fruit.

PALO ALTO (2014)

Gia Coppola is from the next generation, daughter of Francis and Eleanor’s first son, Gian-Carlo, who was born before Francis even finished grad school. Her first film follows shy, sensitive April (Emma Roberts), the class virgin, a soccer player and frequent babysitter for her coach, Mr. B. (James Franco). Teddy (Jack Kilmer) is an introspective artist whose best friend and sidekick Fred (Nat Wolff) is an unpredictable live wire with few filters or boundaries.

While April negotiates a dangerous affair with Mr. B., and Teddy performs community service for a DUI – secretly carrying a torch for April, who may or may not share his affection – Fred seduces Emily (Zoe Levin), a promiscuous loner who seeks validation through sexual encounters. One high school party bleeds into another as April and Teddy finally acknowledge their mutual affection, and Fred’s escalating recklessness spirals into chaos.

The film is an unflinching portrait of adolescent lust, boredom and self-destruction and astonishingly insightful debut film.

Cage was born Nicolas Kim Coppola, son of Francis’ brother August. Sonny was his first and last foray into directing. The film follows a very unconventional family as they struggle to overcome personal and financial adversity. Young Sonny (James Franco) returns home to New Orleans from Army service to find his mother Jewel (Brenda Blethyn), a prostitute, in dire financial straits, with her marketability decreasing exponentially as her age increases.

Jewel takes heart at her son’s return; she raised him to be a male prostitute and his mid-’20s vitality should be able to provide a much-needed boost to her family’s income — which has increasingly depended on her boyfriend Henry’s (Harry Dean Stanton) small-time thievery, as well as the income generated by Jewel’s new recruit, Carol (Mena Suvari).

Sonny initially scoffs at the thought, having been offered a chance for a legitimate job from his Army buddy (Scott Caan), but when that possibility falls through, Sonny finds he has no choice but to work for his mother.

The film tanked at the box office but did not dampen the burgeoning career of its star James Franco.

COPPOLA FILM GENES was originally published on FollowTheThread

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divanquotes · 5 years

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Alfio Grassi, Charte Turque v1, 1825

Page 69: There is an incredible esprit de corps among the janissaries: if one of them is attacked in the streets, he has only to say: to me, my comrades! and all marry his quarrel; if he is an officer, all the soldiers make him a bulwark of their body. It sometimes happens that in intoxication they allow themselves excesses; also the janissary Aga or general-in-chief, on horseback, accompanied by about forty persons of his retinue, and some munigis, men who carry torches, day and night in the streets of Constantinople, are there to make sure that the drunken janissaries do not insult Jews or Christians; and when he encounters them who commit disorders, or who attempt liberty or personal safety, he has them arrested and brought before the council of war or Divan. The council, after examining the facts, condemns the culprit according to the laws: if the fault is mediocre, to be beaten on the soles of the feet; if it entails capital punishment, to be smothered, sewn into a sack, and thrown into the sea; but, to avoid seditions, Janissaries are never punished in public.

Page 70: Since we have just spoken of the council of war (Divan), which assembles in the palace of the janissary Aga, let us add that it is before this council that the complaints are brought, either of the bourgeois against the janissaries, or of these against their comrades; this council also makes proposals to the great lord or sultan, concerning the administration of the corps, and those for rewards and advancement.

Page 72: When the general aga dies without children, whether his death is natural, or whether by sentence of the Divan and the great lord or sultan, his property is not confiscated for the benefit of the sultan, as that of viziers or pashas; but the treasury of the janissaries inherits it, so that the simple janissaries enjoy it by the increase of their pay, in their old age, or in the case of serious wounds or unforeseen accidents.

When this aga goes to the Divan of the emperor; he is mounted on a horse covered with a caparison embroidered with gold, and strewn with fine fine pearls, the bit is very broad, and the horse has a gold plate on its head; a club of silver hang from his saddle, and the stirrups are of the same metal.

Page 73: Whenever there is a Divan there must be in the court of the seraglio a guard of four or five hundred janissaries. These councils are held three times a week: the Janissaries on guard around the divan, are fed that day from the kitchen of the grand seigneur; but when they have some discontent, they testify by reversing the dishes without eating; immediately the great lord or sultan and the principal ministers, who know that these revolts may become fatal, hasten to know the cause, and appease them, by granting them all or part of what they ask, and by making beautiful promises; but they do not allow themselves to be seduced by words, if their discontent is serious, and if it concerns subjects which interest the welfare of the state, or numerous and glaring injustices; then the head of the grand vizier, or of him whom they have to complain, must answer for it: that of the great seignior would be even in danger if they were not given satisfaction. The Janissaries never cease to express their dissatisfaction until they have reached their goal, or when they have avenged the nation for the injustices of the agents of the government, who deviated from the laws of the Koran.

Page 90: The aga of the janissaries consulted the Divan and the grand seignior or sultan. It was thought that there was no inconvenience in involving the burghers in the consideration which that corps enjoyed, and that the government, in time of war, could derive a great advantage from it. It was given by the grand seignior or sultan a tacit authorization in this respect, since then an infinity of bourgeois presented themselves to be registered on the control of the corps of janissaries; but the aga and the officers seeing their eagerness, and the presents they were making when they were received, judged it in their interest to make better use of it; so that now this title is granted only by means of sums of money and considerable gifts, unless, as a friend of some Janissaries marquans, it is obtained for free.

Page 137: The Divan ordinarily condemns the commander in chief when he loses a battle: this last punishment might seem strange to us, if we did not have similar examples among the ancients, who were likewise inflexible on this subject. who watched the discipline or the delay in ralllying to the national flag.

Page 159: Finally, a proof certain that the Turks consider themselves to be in a state of civil war with the Greeks is that they did not deploy the standard of Mahomet, which inevitably takes place in the wars with the Europeans; this announced that they are not far from any reconciliation, and that they do not want the extermination of the Greeks. It is for these same reasons, no doubt, that the Divan does not send strong masses of troops against them at the landings, knowing well that the fanatical armies of the Turks are too devastating: the fearful fate of the unfortunate Scio Island, the disaster of Ipsara testify to their fury, and prove that it does not take a large number of these fanatics to destroy everything and sacrifice everything.

Page 160: It is fair to point out, however, that the atrocities committed at Scio, under the eyes, it is true, of a captain Pasha, were only executed by the Asiatic troops, who are much more barbarous and more exalted than the European Turkish troops, and which, moreover, had no usual relation with the Greeks of Europe; but, far from being sanctioned by the Divan, the news has taught us that the capitan Pasha would have expiated them from his head, if the Greeks had not had the glory of avenging the names of their own unfortunate brothers.

Page 173: Several firmans of this prince, have proven that they agree with their Divan to remedy the abuses which had crept into the state, and which enervated its first vigor. They have forgotten the profession of arms; but the present war, and their own setbacks can teach them again. A prince and wise ministers could bring them back to their primary strength, which exists essentially in many of their institutions.

Page 178: Seraglio means palace: it should not be confused with the harem, which is only the place where the women are housed. All Turks may possess a harem; but the prince alone can have a seraglio. This enclosure is of immense size, probably about two and a half league in circumference. Here are the main parts: The palace of the great lord or sultan; the mosque; the deposit room containing the treasures of the deceased sultans; the hall of the Divan (or grand council) with its offices and archives…

Page 179: In the interior of the seraglio we see no armed men, nor any corps of troops; there are not even any firearms, nor any weapons; there are only the bostangyi or gardeners who guard this palace; the janissaries, it is true, are on guard at the seraglio during the sessions of the Divan; but they do not go beyond the outer courts, and do their service with a baton or stick in their hands, so that it can be assured that the emperor of the Turks is the only prince in the whole world, who is not guarded by troops and bayonets, but exclusively by peaceful florists.

Page 181: The sultan never presides over this council. The presidency is vested in the grand vizier and in his absence to the mufti; but, from a grilled lodge which gives the prince's apartments in the Divan room, the sultan listens to the deliberations; the ministers and councilors must speak aloud, so that he may hear the discussions, know the zeal and talents of each of them, and that in diplomatic affairs he may judge with reflection the various opinions, and distinguish those he believes are most advantageous to the salvation of the state and his own.

Immediately after the sitting, the grand vizier is obliged to give him a detailed account of the affairs which occupied the Divan; then various opinions and decisions rendered which he submits for his approval; besides, he must make a report of all that concerns the state, either inside or outside the empire.

It is wrongly thought that the Sultan, of his own free will, of his private authority, may order to have his head cut off from such and such viziers, pashas, or other individuals; nothing is less exact than this generally established prevention; it is the Divan which always pronounces on the accusations brought against the high dignitaries and on all the appeals made to the throne. The judgments he renders must be written entirely in the hand of the mufti.

Page 187: Amurat IV watched carefully if he did not see these fires; When he saw some of them, he would stop his horse, order him to take the petition, and when he had complaints against some of the dignitaries he would take care of them when he returned from the mosque, the Divan having assembled; and when the injustices were ascertained, the next day executions were seen that were as terrible as they were quick.

Page 189: It should be noted that the Ottoman emperors have no right to dispose of the kingdoms of the country constituting the empire. The Turkish charter wisely refuses them this power, and when the Turks make the cession of a country, it is only by the force of arms and the consent of the assembled Divan.

Page 231: But then, when the Turks had established themselves in Europe, the policy no longer prescribed to their emperors these sorts of alliances. The Divan, fearing, to the contrary, that there was a threat of bringing a European influence to the institutions of the empire, resolved to remove the possibility of doing so; they adopted, therefore, as the formal law of the state, that the sultans would no longer contract solemn and legitimate marriages, and that to obtain heirs they would choose favorites exclusively from among young slave girls raised in the seraglio in the religion and Moroccan morals. This maxim of state became an insurmountable obstacle to any new alliance, for no European prince would have wished to give his daughter or his sister to the sultans, as a favorite, and still less as a slave.

Page 232: It is reasonable to believe that this renunciation of all marriage and all foreign alliance preserved the Turkish empire in its primitive form, and the laws in their integrity; for the power of love is infinite, and the charms of the daughters and sisters of the allied princes, the title of mother, the authority of rank, would have had an influence on the minds of the sultans, and consequently on the state laws. The Divan, by adopting this apparently strange political system, avoided the privileges of the hereditary nobility and the aristocratic institutions of Europe penetrating the empire; and this decision, for this conservative purpose, was the work of a very profound genius.

Page 244: Those whose generosity is not well established and whose talents are limited often risk, even if they are the eldest, to be excluded from the throne, for the Turks hold religiously to the Ottoman blood; but do not always attach themselves to primogeniture; sometimes they prefer, and it is always the Divan that directs this choice, the youngest of the brothers, and sometimes the oldest of the imperial blood in the lateral line, that is to say, the brother of the deceased sultan, at the place of the son of this same sultan; this policy is all the more advantageous to the state, because it maintains among the princes of this blood a motive for consistently good behavior in the hope of obtaining one day a similar reward; besides, it is scarcely probable that the prince, whose character has made himself known for a long time in an advantageous manner, may afterwards seek the misfortune of his people; thus, in the very choice of the sultan, it is always towards the talents and the virtue that the balance weighs in Turkey.

Page 245: However, despite these precautions, the other states of Europe, anxious before this colossus of power, and wishing to occupy and weaken it by division, succeeded several times in provoking the ambition of the young princes with perfidious counsels; they made the son arm his father. the brothers against the brethren, and civil wars ensued, so that in order to elevate to the throne this or that individual, he sometimes caused thirty or forty thousand men to perish. This grave situation determined the Divan and the Sultan, to sacrifice rather the Ottoman blood than that of the people who were the victims of the ambition of the young princes, and they took a resolution, atrocious in morality, but authorized by the political laws.

Page 246: To ensure the repose and safety of the state, it was resolved to retain only the eldest son, and they had to kill the others to avoid the civil wars and intrigues caused by the powers of Europe who often made secret treaties with these princes, and promised them their help to revolt against the legitimate emperor; the Divan took this severe decision; the mufti signed it, and the sultan was obliged to execute this festwa on his own children; he was cruel for his own blood, in order to spare that of his subjects, which flowed freely for the interest of himself.

Page 248: The tables of the princes, his sons, and the princesses his daughters, are also very sumptuous; those of the pupils of the seraglio of the one and the other sex, and all the employees of this immense enclosure are abundant and sought after. The great lord or sultan also feeds four to five hundred janissaries on guard, whenever there is a Divan, and this council is held three times a week. In addition, all the subordinate individuals employed in the seraglio are also well fed, well dressed, well housed at the expense of the Sultan. I said that in-kind contributions were largely for this huge profusion.

Page 255: Divan or Grand Council of State. The couch is the council of state; it is composed as follows: The Grand Vizier prime minister, lieutenant of the grand seigneur;

Page 256: Finally all the pashas with two and three tails that are in Constantinople. They have the right during their stay in this city, to sit on the Divan, or, to put it better, they are part of this great council of state. The Divan assembles as council of state, and sometimes as supreme court. In the first case, it discusses the high interests of the empire, peace, war, diplomatic relations; it pronounces on the affairs of the high administration, on the projects of improvement and on the petitions presented there.

Page 257: The Divan also pronounces on the complaints brought against the ministers, the pashas and the high dignitaries of the empire, or of the seraglio, and against those who are any part of the council; accused members should not sit during the deliberations about themselves. Everything on the Divan is decided by a majority of votes. ......... The great lord cannot preside over the Divan; there is not even any voice, although he attends almost all the sittings; rather he places himself in a grilled place, which is connected to his apartments; from there he sees everything, hears all the deliberations; but always without being seen. The ministers and councilors must speak aloud and distinctly, so that the emperor may lose nothing of all that is discussed there, that he may judge the zeal of each, and appreciate what he believes to be the most advantageous for the state.

Page 258: We have seen from the list of members composing the Divan, that all the particular interests are represented by each head of ministry, and the general interests by the three-tailed pashas and the six viziers of the bench. The pashas who have the right to sit on the Divan are a type of of marshals. Their dignity is irremovable; they may lose their pachalik, but not their title of pasha and the right to sit, unless they are condemned. This irremovability guarantees their independence of opinion; the same can be said of the six viziers called viziers or pashas of the bench. They are state councilors chosen from men of mature age, of recognized merit and, above all, of great integrity. They are consulted first during the sessions of the Divan; their opinion is of great weight in all the deliberations of this council; likewise irremovable, they exercise a strict surveillance of what is going on in this assembly, and thus become a kind of opposition.

Page 259: The safeguarding of the Mahometan charter and its integrity are placed in some way into the hands of these six viziers, due to the influence they exert on the Divan. But they themselves are in turn watched over by the nation and particularly by those who establish themselves as defenders of its code. We have already seen that these are the janissaries, excited and always led by the effendis (or men of the law). Thus the Turkish nation has guardians of its charter in the Divan and off the Divan.

It seems certain that the present sultan, in agreement with the Divan, has rendered a hatti scherif (imperial decree) by virtue of which deputies of the people, that is to say, simple officers of janissaries, and effendis or men of the law are called to sit and deliberate in this council.

Page 260: One is mistaken, I repeat, in believing that the Sultan may, by his own authority, have a particular dignitary, or any other of his subjects, strangled.

Nothing is less precise. When some great characters perform, it is always by reason of judgments and condemnations rendered by the Divan, and afterwards submitted to the approval of the emperor. When these judgments carry the capital punishment, they must be signed by him; in other cases the marriage of the muphti and a certain number of advisers is sufficient. The body of the judgment must be written in full from the hand of the mufti on the registers of the Divan.

In addition to this great council, where general interests and major appeals are carried, each Pasha in his pachalik is given a council, also called a Divan, forming a tribunal, to examine and pronounce jointly with him on certain appeals, on complaints, addresses, and on other points of jurisdiction;

Page 262: The judgments of capital punishment pronounced by these pashas in their jurisdiction, against the sangiaks or the cadis, are sent and subjected to the examination of the supreme Divan, before their execution. But those rendered by the captain pasha, when he is invested with his power, are without appeal and executed on the spot. However, so that he also has his responsibility, he must file each judgment he renders, and the supporting documents, in an iron box which is given to him for that purpose, and the key of which remains in the archives the Divan. The chest has an opening suitable for inserting the papers which must be placed therein, without their being able to be removed, until it is brought back to the Divan for examination of the management of the capitan pasha, or when the judgments rendered give rise to claims.

Let us also note that, either in the supreme Divan, or in the other councils which bear the same name, the members composing them cannot present themselves armed, either in time of peace, or in time of war. ......... It was therefore by decision of the Divan that the ministers, the unjust pashas, embezzlers, traitors, and favorites were executed, and that their heads were displayed and nailed by the ears to the door of the seraglio: a terrible menacing or threatening example. for those who must succeed them.

Page 263: It was by decision of this same Divan that several sultans were strangled, or condemned to life imprisonment, for having departed from the laws of the state and the Koran; in these kinds of cases the assemblies of this council are not held at the seraglio, but usually in the mosque of St. Sophia.

We can assure that in no other council of state, or superior court of the world, the individuals who compose the assembly are as free, as independent of opinion as in the Divan of Constantinople, and that in no other place does the ministry exercise less influence than in this country with its despotic forms.

Page 264: This assertion will seem very hazardous; but, to find it credible, it must first be considered that the emperor cannot be part of this council, that the opinion of the grand vizier has no more authority than that of the other councilors, that It is neither the prince nor his lieutenant the grand vizier who decide in great affairs, such as peace and war; while in many other countries it is the prince and his ministry who decide on all these points; the councils of state are only ghosts, everything is stopped there according to thel of the sovereign and the ministry; but in Turkey, it is the Divan which pronounces freely and of its own inspiration: now, there is a great difference between this supreme council and the ministry: it is part, it is true, of the Divan, but the Divan also consists of three-tailed pashas, six viziers of the bench, all, as I have already said, not removable, unless the council is condemned; but it cannot be revoked by the Sultan's will, as misinformed writers have written. To these voices must be added those of the military leaders and the new representatives admitted to sit on the Divan of Constantinople.

Page 265: However, in judging the Turkish Government according to our data on the European states, one might suppose in fact that the members of this assembly who receive in principle their appointment from the Emperor, and are also for the most part pupils of the seraglio, that is to say, chosen from among the pupils of the state, must as creatures of the prince be blind agents of his will, and that they have no independent opinions in the deliberations of the advice. This supposition would be admissible, if, in the Turkish nation, there was not one consideration which dominates, which governs every Moslem, and to which everything scrupulously relates; it is the intact preservation of the Koran, by religious precept; but these same counselors firmly believe their conscientious conscience to have only this goal first and foremost; they think they ought to defend this code and the fundamental laws of the empire from any alteration, whatever may be the power that would attempt to touch it. That is why they are not ordinarily docile agents of authority: it is to guarantee this independence that certain dignities who having been given the right to sit on the Divan, once conferred by the emperor, become immovable. The law foresaw the danger of seduction for personal interest.

But, on the contrary, it may be remarked that in Ottoman history, when a member of the Divan has wished to strongly dominate the opinion of his colleagues, or a great vision of the Sultan has sought to direct the deliberations and to influence the opinion and independence of its members, which sometimes happens, it has been lost in the spirit of the Divan and the nation, and that his imminent fall or death has been certain. Thus the grand viziers could not, for their personal interest, drag the sultan and the state into a war of any kind. In this country a bad construction of a window would not be the cause of bringing about a disastrous war. Finally, the assembly of the Divan does not wish to be dominated, nor will its members allow themselves to be seduced by power; it wants the opinions to be free and directed by the conscience in the interest of the state.

Page 266: Finally, the assembly of the Divan does not wish to be dominated, nor will its members allow themselves to be seduced by power; it wants the opinions to be free and directed by the conscience in the interest of the state. ……. Also, rarely do the decisions of this assembly experience obstacles in their execution. One of the proofs of what I advance is that in the course of the Ottoman Empire ,the Divan rendered terribly for the sons of the sultans; & Extraordinarilyy as to their marriages; and yet these decisions became laws of the state.]

Page 267: Each of the members can speak at will, and develop his thought voluntarily, without interruption; he must express himself with simplicity. One does not attach oneself mindlessly to the beautiful phrases, except to bring to bear the convictions of the reasonings that one is alleging. One does not make a reciprocal crime of the divergence of opinions, for there are no ultra-sultanists, nor ministers.In the Divan of Constantinople there are only Muslims; so there is nothing to resest their zeal for the good of the Empire. We have seen several great viziers prefer to leave the ministry, rather than subscribe to an opinion which the majority had adopted, but which they thought dangerous. One of these cases may have been mentioned today, but in all of Ottoman history there have probably been a thousand.

In 1798, the Grand Vizier, Ised-Pasha, and the mufti, opposed the authorization of the entry of the Bosphorus, and the passage through the canal, demanded by the Russian fleet, commanded by Admiral Istscha-Row. The muphti refused to give the necessary fetswa on such an occasion, and both refused to sign it; but the majority of the Divan, and the grand seignior or sultan, were in favor of yielding to the circumstances and the politics of the time. The grand vizier then predicted that the emperor and the Divan would one day regret having granted the permission that they were granting, or rather that they were extorteing. Indeed, the passage opened for the first time to the Russian naval fleet, in 1798, could not be refused later for transport and Russian vessels that were going to Corfu.

Page 272: There are another six viziers called viziers of the bench, I have already mentioned them in the article about the Divan; there are respectable and mature people who occupy these places.

Page 275: The word pasha, in the Turkish language, signifies commander or governor of some of the so-called pachaliks provinces: there are several of them, they are called pachas with one tail, two tails, three ponytails; these two last orders of pashas are entitled, when they are at Constantinople, to sit on the Divan; before them, in the exercise of their functions and in the public ceremonies, are the tails of horses called tongys, each attached to the end of a spear, their number indicating the importance and extent of the pachalik. Also, at the time of the Romans, the ponytail was a symbol of honor, and even one of the main standards of Rome. The kings of Congo carry on their shoulders a beautiful ponytail, it is the main mark of their royalty.

Page 280: The mufti is the dispenser of the considerable sums of money given to the poor by the sultan and the sultaness; but it would not deter them from their object, for fear of losing public consideration, and that of the prince and the sultanesses, which would soon lead to his dismissal; but on the contrary, when he makes himself known to the Divan by his justice and equity, when he supports the cause of the unfortunate against the arbitrariness of the people in place, he becomes the object of public veneration, and the sultan himself is subject to his will.

Page 281: All the great judgments of the Divan are signed by the mufti; several muftis have gone against the sultan himself; they pronounced death sentences against Osman Ibrahim and other emperors, and these judgments were executed. It was Amurat IV who first dared to oppose the dignity of the Turkish priesthood; after having deposed the mufti, he had him strangled secretly.

Page 284: We have seen that the mufti was the supreme chief. All the members of the ulema, both those who profess the law and those who serve the worship, are regarded as sacred, and cannot be put to death in any case, unless they have been previously tried, dismissed from their place, and stricken from the control of the body by sentence of the Divan. Since the establishment of the Turkish empire, several muftis, imans, and effendis, have been strangled, but even so after these formalities were completed, no Sultan dared to derogate their privileges.

Page 296: The cadileskers give hearingd every day, morning and evening, but on Friday, on the day of the Divan, where they are obliged to go, it is their ‘kciia’ who gives the hearing for them. The two cadileskers have their place in the Divan on the same bench as the Grand Vizier, one on his right, the other on his left.

Page 299: In serious cases, the judgments they render are submitted to the pasha of the place, who also has a Divan composed of two effendis, performing the same functions as the preceding ones. The documents under which the accused has been sentenced shall be examined by that second council, and when the judgment of the mollak or the cadi is approved, he shall be executed promptly. If the pasha's council does not approve it, the documents are sent to the cadilesker: the latter reports to the large Divan, which pronounces without appeal the fate of the accused, or that of the cadi or the Pasha who delivered the judgment.

If the condemned person in civil matters, or the relatives in direct line of the person convictd in criminal matters, find the judgment of the cadi or pasha to be an obvious injustice, they have the right to address their complaints to the cadilesker or mufti, who may help them appeal to the supreme Divan, which confirms or rejects the condemnation. In the latter case the disgrace of the pasha or the cadi is inevitable. Because in Turkey there is no waiting to indulge in other injustices, when only one is absolutely obvious, especially in criminal matters, the justices does not stop at dismissal, but is often the head of the pashas and Cadis also may answer for their fault; their property is confiscated and given as damages to the plaintiffs or to the heir of the deceased, a victim of the injustice of these two authorities. Thus in no other government is the responsibility of the judges so severely established as among the Turks.

Page 305: The judge turned to the side of the accused and questioned him again; he again declared that what the witnesses supported was false, and reiterated his oath. "Do you have witnesses?” the cadi asked. The accused replied that he had none: "Well," said the judge, "here are five hundred who lay in your favor," and he pointed to the bag which contained the five hundred piastres that were brought to corrupt him; he then arrested the plaintiff and the false witnesses, instructed minister Kiuperli Achmet, who agreed with the Divan, who ordered the death of the briber and those who had testified for him, and the confiscation of their property in favor of of the accused, and to make profitable this terrible and memorable example, the culprits' heads were displayed on the door of the house, which they had wished to ravish by an injustice.

Page 311: However, in this immense city, public tranquility reigns without armed soldiers and without spies; it usually reigns (except in the case of political sedition) more than in any other large city; what should we conclude? that, no doubt, the people are well governed, well administered, and that the authorities do not deviate from their duties; and that, conforming to it, they do not need, in order to be supported or for their personal safety, armed force or espionage; the prince himself can run no risk of danger to his person, for it is sacred to all Muslims; and if some sultans have descended from the throne, if many have been condemned, it is only by sentence of the Divan and for having strayed from their duties by not conforming to the laws of the Koran. But until the decision of this council, their person was sacred and venerated.

Page 347: When the Turkish ministry expects from these new methods the triumph of its armies and not of its physical strength, of itsmoral strength, excited by their religious fanaticism and the fatalism which is its consequence, the Turkish nation will soon disappear from the earth. Such is the opinion of the Turkish Ministry, a reasoned opinion which will not change for a long time. Some sultans have been tempted to introduce the use of our tactics, but the Divan has always repulsed that.

Page 376: It would appear that the Divan gave instructions to the pashas to spare the blood of the Greeks, for the foreign newspapers have told us that 'Abbolubut, Pasha of Salonica, who had several Christian families assassinated last year in the provinces of Niutla, was executed by order of the sultan (that is to say the Divan). Other foreign news has also learned that the Divan has given very strict orders to the magistrates to supervise the general and individual security of the Greeks who are established in Turkey.

Page 387: It should be noted that it is not only wine that is defended by law, but also all fermented liquors that can give drunkenness. Under Muhammad IV, they wanted to introduce the use of a drink called bosel, made with grain of millet, on the pretext that it was not defended by the Koran. The kaïa who was then in charge of the police of the streets of Constantinople and the cabarets, drawing a fee for this drink, favored it; but it also brought drunkenness, and soon the streets of the capital were strewn with drunkards. The mufti and the ulema remonstrated with the Sultan on this abuse, which was increasing every day. The Divan took care of it; the kaïa was condemned to be strangled, for having favored this abuse and not having supervised the police of the streets.

Page 390: The present Sultan Mahmoud has, it is said, a pronounced character and genius. Let us judge neither his faculties nor the degree of his merit, which we cannot know; but note that no Turkish emperor has ever been in a more difficult position, than he who has been successively attacked by the Persians, the Greeks, and threatened by the Holy Alliance. Nevertheless, in spite of his reverses and the weakness of his navy, which prevents him from opposing the success of the Greeks, the policies of this Sultan and his Divan are unbending; they haughtily rejected the ultimatum of Russia, and threatened it in their turn, not fearing to wound the Russian ambassador, by expressing suspicions so insulting that these became the reasons for a rupture.

Page 391: This prince has given several remarkable hatti-scherifs and firmans, among others, a firman to prohibit the luxury and dress of gold and silver during the present war; another which prescribes to the Jewish or Christian women of Constantinople more decency in their appearance; a firman to grant an entire amnesty to the Greeks who will lay down their arms. But what is more remarkable is the hatti-scherif, or imperial decree, by virtue of which deputies of the people, that is to say, simple effendis and officers of the Janissaries and Spahis, are called to sit on the Divan. This head of a state with despotic forms calls for fractions of all ranks, of all interests, to the honor of being among his advisers. It thus takes a step towards the lights of the century, and goes as far as the extension of its power allows it. This favorable innovation will signal all the more this reign, as other civilized countries recede before its own lights.

Page 394: All the drogmans (or dragomans) who are placed at Constantinople, either near the grand seignior (sultan) or at the grand-vizier or Divan, must know the following languages: Turkish, Arabic, Persian, and Greeek, to which they must add knowledge of the French, Italian, and English languages: these three languages are alone admitted by the sublime Porte, in diplomatic conferences. The other ambassadors, those of Germany and Russia, are obliged to explain themselves in one of these languages: it is ordinarily the French they employ, and sometimes Italian.

Page 405: The sort of dagger worn by the sultanas, which is a singular ornament for women, is also part of the Sultan's equipage; it is still worn by the nobles of the empire, but also by the Turks of ordinary rank, and even by the Greeks. I said a kind of dagger, because, for one thing and another, it is only a sham. The blade is usually silver, the end is round and as big as a button, the large handle or the poignard is adorned with diamonds more or less beautiful; the dagger is an ornament and not a real weapon. The proof that it is not considered as such is that the viziers, the pashas, present themselves to the Divan and to the emperor with this kind of dagger at the waist, while no armed person can appear before him, not even the ambassadors with their swords.

Page 417: It is not entirely the fault of the Turkish government, if the printing press has not established itself in the empire, too many interests have opposed it; It may also be supposed that it was convenient for his policy not to facilitate a means which, by bringing a multitude of books at little cost, would help to drive the mass of individuals out of their apathetic ignorance; and soon there would have followed an alteration of ideas, tastes that would have been shaken and destroyed their religion and their institutions. No one is ignorant of the influence which the discovery of printing has had on the European peoples; and the Divan may well be an advocate of obscurantism, when Frenchmen nowadays declare themselves to be the approvers and even the zealous defenders of that.

Page 424: These certain facts, opposed, it is true, to the nature of the man who is repugnant to his own destruction and to the loss of his enjoyments, are explained without effort, by the absolute and fanatical belief of the Turks in the Moslem faith, which promises them greater heavenly goods than those they lose, by obeying the laws of the Koran. Now, the cord, sent by virtue of a chapter of this book of the law, which they know to have transgressed, becomes an expiation, and hence an object of veneration for them; it is sent by an order of the sultan, mufti, and divan, sacred authorities in their eyes. This fatal link, which they themselves place around the neck, is a kind of honor they receive in their punishment, it is the dead fire commanded by the soldier who passes by the arms. The great Turkish dignitary obeys without murmur, and believes, by this passive obedience, to redeem his fault, and infallibly win heaven.

Page 426: The caliphs were the spiritual and temporal leaders or chiefs of their states, that is to say, they were at the same time kings and pontiffs, as are our Roman pontiffs, under a different denomination; but today the Turkish muftis or pontiffs direct only the spiritual, and when they occupy the temporal as members of the Divan, it is only as the first interpreters of the law, as supreme heads of justice to supervise the inviolability of the Turkish Charter, and the execution and rigorous application of its laws.

Page 427: At his death the grand seigneur (sultan) caused for him the performance of such pompous funerals as for the most favored pasha. He was buried in a convent of Turkish monks, a place which he had designated for his last dwelling. The Divan took care of the epitaph which was to decorate it; it was written in Turkish, here is the translation:

Page 433: Under Achmet III, the Divan suspected, by the multiplicity of testimonies rendered by the same individuals, that they could make a profession of it, that is to say, draw a product from it. To ascertain the fact, the grand vizier presented to the Divan an imaginary cause, but of a grave nature, and for which witnesses were needed. The pretended litigants addressed those who were suspected of selling their testimony, and proposed to them to assert important facts, which, though false, would be useful at trial. They consented for money. When the testimony was given, it was not difficult to convince them of the crime they had committed, and of the previous ones. They were judged, and all executed in the same day.

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seduce01 · 6 years

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vitalmindandbody · 7 years

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What was my grandfather running away from?

When John Sutherlands grandfather drowned himself, he left behind chests of ancient banknotes, a fractured, angry household, and the revelation that he had gone by three surnames during his lifetime. The riddle contributed back to the 19 th century

On 4 February 1958, the body of a 70 -year-old man was spotcheck bobbing in the river Colne, below Middle Mill pond, in Colchester. He had been in the ocean for six days, by a frequented, paved track. Stones in his pocket( as my mother much eventually told me) signify my granddad aimed his mas to remain started for ever- but postmortem gas made it back to the world he wanted to leave.

The death record was terse:” SALTER or KNOPP Kenneth Leonard Vernon of 12 West Street Colchester, who was last examined alive on 28 January 1958 and whose dead body was found 4 February 1958 … Impressions PS805 8s .”

There were a couple of superficial reasons why Kenneth Salter/ Knopp should have committed something that, in his earlier Victorian daylights, was called the crime of “self-murder”. His wife, Daisy, had gone into hospital. It was not terminal- she would outlive him by eight years. But he was alone in the house. His last recorded statements were, as he watched trafficking in human beings:” Everybody drives nowadays .” Not him.

After his death, the mystery about Salter/ Knopp thickened. Although he had worked as a manual labourer for 40 times, he owned got a couple of homes elsewhere in the country. Boxes substance with cash discovered in his shed- often of it ancient observes. The currency and property were discreetly laundered. Daisy modernised her house and lived her last years comfortably off- comfort disclaimed her for all her small life.

The reason Kenneth opted the death that he did was, I believe, to escape from what he was. He was born outside of matrimony( perhaps) and “hes been” Jewish( most probably ).

I knew him closely for two years of my childhood. I was, from persons under the age of 10 to 12, mad on angling. He was formidably knowledgeable about the rivers. He could catch fish in a rain puddle. Two particular favourites, in our fishing expedition, were the Stratford and Dedham mills. These old-fashioned websites, in 1949, were virtually unchanged since Constable decorated them.

However, we never fished around Middle Mill pond. A sidekick, he announced, had submerge there. He pronounced little. His paraphernalium was 30 or more years old. As was his bicycle. Those Saturdays were among the happiest of my life.

Until relatively recently, Knopp was a name wholly unknown to me. My mother, the smartest of “their childrens”, declined occasional remarks, in passing, that her father was Jewish. No details.

I couldn’t start to make sense of it until a acquaintance( declared below) did a ” Who do you think you are ?”~ ATAGEND for me.

Kenneth’s mother, Alice Knopp, was carry in 1866 in Frating, Essex, a few cases miles from Colchester. Most Jewish communities knotted in London but a number inclined to Essex. Alice went into domestic service aged 14. Her life thereafter is obscure.

The next registered detail is Alice giving birth to Kenneth Vernon Leonard in 1887, in Hackney, east London. On the birth credential, she applied her reputation as Alice Wheatley( nee Knopp ), although she was not, in fact, wedded. She opened the father’s appoint as Arthur Wheatley, carman( ie go-cart motorist ). My hunch is Arthur never existed. It was a legitimation ruse. For the next four years, Kenneth was ” Wheatley “.

Four years later, this resourceful lady, whose disdain for official documentation was incorrigible, renamed herself Lillie Knopp, spinster( exit the invisible Wheatley ), and married Frederick Salter, in Camberwell, south London. Salter was a soldier. He had connected the military forces after being imprisoned of mugging- better khaki than tables. He was 13 years older than Alice. But he had visualized “the worlds”, smelled gunpowder, and cut a manly chassis. He had been stationed in Colchester about the time Kenneth was envisioned. Kenneth Knopp/ Wheatley now became Kenneth Salter- the reputation he used for the rest of his life. Frederick died 5 years later, in 1896.

John Sutherland as a boy.

The widowed Lillie is recorded in 1901 living with her son( Frederick is now registered as “his fathers”) in Colchester. Colchester is a garrison town, and in 1903 she seduced George West, a sergeant-at-law in the Suffolk regiment, into matrimony. She clearly had a desire of men in garb and they for her. There is a vitality about what little one knows about her that is warming.

Kenneth, her only child, was now 15. He became a trouser presser, a skilled business in Edwardian England. He was a whiz with his irons and spraying. There were queues of Colcestrian dandies at his door at weekends. At 22, he wedded 17 -year-old Daisy Agnes Hamilton. She was heavily pregnant. Evidences were William Knopp, Kenneth’s uncle, and his mother Alice West.

Daisy was pretty, diminutive, and( that valued act) “dainty”. She was also a good seamstress; capable of mending trousers and , when required, good with the irons( I met her using them dashingly, heated on gas rings not the hob, as belatedly as 1950 ). The pair lived in a handsome residence( how did Kenneth buy it ?) in Colchester, with a originating family.

Kenneth was 27 when battle broke out. His army service, insofar as one can infer, was brief, and ignominious.” Salter K” enlisted on 12 January 1917 and was exhausted from the Royal Architects on 19 July 1917. The reasonablenes given is “sickness”. It was its first year England almost lost the crusade, and men were desperately needed. But not Private Salter. The sickness was, I suppose, mental. He did, however, have an disabled, utterly whitened see which- I accepted- was a campaign wound. He may have watched war and fallen apart.

Whatever, he came back a difficult mortal. His eldest daughter, Daisy, is pregnant and was shuffled off to Australia. His son, Arthur, on his death bottom, in 2004, told me that Kenneth had trounced him savagely as a child and that he was convinced that he was not “his fathers”. He added that, after the battle, Kenneth was drunken and merciless to his wife. Daisy’s friend would come round and pierce him into better behaviour.

Kenneth’s pressing sciences were unwanted in the 20 s, and he sank to being what his death credential calls a” general labourer “. But mysteriously, he still had coin enough to buy another nice terraced room. The wherewithal was coin left by his mother, Alice, who may have got it from household contacts in London. The times of the tones knew after his death indicate he began boxing up coin in the late 30 s( when, I guess, Alice died) and did not splash it around. Doing that would have made drawing attention to himself. An “illegitimate” Jewish Knopp. Loneliness closed in. To launch his sole claim to Alice’s money, nonetheless, he had had to identify himself as Knopp- hence the surname oddly popping up on his death detect. It is practicable he was not Jewish, or half-Jewish. But I guess my mother was right.

I assure the self-chosen outcome of Kenneth Leonard Vernon Wheatley/ Knopp/ Salter as the last, conscious keep it moving a long flight from the personal history embedded in those three surnames. Kenneth’s dismal burial was attended merely by two daughters. I was instructed to keep away. His wife chose not to tour. She said she was glad the cold February sun had briefly shone:” He didn’t get much in his lifetime .” He had not left her any memo , nor- apparently- believed to be softening potential impacts of his death.

I see a lot of Kenneth’s last-place hours, before his lungs crowded. The persona has recurred me for weeks now. And, to escape that, I think of those other, happier mill ponds we fished in.

* The genealogical investigate was supplied by Susan Walker, to whom I am greatly grateful

* In the UK, the Samaritans can be contacted on 116 123( calls are free ). In the US, the National Suicide Prevention Hotline is 1-800-273-8255. In Australia, the crisis support busines Lifeline is on 13 11 14. Hotlines in other countries can be found here ..