#Monsieur Moreau

[soulirisaimedia]

Luke Edward Allen and Monsieur Moreau - characters of the screenplay 'Puzzled' - talking in the library in the mansion in Monaco - an AI generated image based on the text of a screenplay 'Puzzled' by Seraphima Bogomolova.

[tessasilverswan]

His name is Jean Moreau. I will not be able to draw his hair properly.

[alaindelontoujours]

Alain Delon, Jeanne Moreau et le directeur Joseph Losey photographiés par Michel Ginfray pendant le tournage de Monsieur Klein (1976)

[illustraction]

MR. KLEIN (1976) - ALAIN DELON MOVIE POSTERS (Part 8/20)

One of ALAIN DELON's best ever dramatic roles in this WW2 Shoah related drama

Above are original movie posters from East Germany, Italy and Japan (click on each image for details)

Director: Joseph Losey Actors: Alain Delon, Jeanne Moreau

ALL OUR ALAIN DELON POSTERS ARE HERE

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All our NEW POSTERS are here All our ON SALE posters are here

The posters above courtesy of ILLUSTRACTION GALLERY

[josefavomjaaga]

Soult on several French officers

This is taken from the book »Life of General Sir William Napier«, Volume 1. Soult, while in England for the coronation of Queen Victoria, talk to British historian Napier, who wants to know his opinion on several French officers. As usual, Soult is not very forthcoming, his statements are rather brief. There are longer ones on Hoche, on Napoleon and on Joseph Bonaparte, however, that I might post separately if there’s interest. Or you can just look them up yourself under the above link (page 505, bottom, ff, »Generals of the Revolution«). For once, it’s all in English. So, here are Soult’s verdicts on:

MARCEAU. "Marceau was clever and good, and of great promise, but he had little experience before he fell."

This general I had to look up: He died from his wounds in Austrian captivity in 1796.

MOREAU. "No great things."

AUGEREAU. Ditto.

JUNOT. Ditto.

GOUVION ST. CYR. "A clever man and a good officer, but deficient in enterprise and vigour."

MACDONALD. "Too regular, too methodical; an excellent man, but not a great general.”

NEY. "No extent of capacity: but he was unfortunate; he is dead."

VICTOR. "An old woman, quite incapable."

There are some funny scenes with this marshal that Brun de Villeret describes in his Cahiers. Apparently, Brun needed to go calm down Victor on several occasions.

JOURDAN. "Not capable of leading large armies."

MASSENA. "Excellent in great danger; negligent and of no goodness out of danger. Knew war well."

That’s a little less praise for Masséna than in his memoirs. But Soult is all around bragging a lot in this conversation, though it’s hard to tell how much of it may have been jokingly. (Then again – Soult and joking? Probably not.)

MARMONT. "Understands the theory of war perfectly. History will tell what he did with his knowledge." (This was accompanied with a sardonic smile.)

And of course refers to Marmont’s alleged betrayal of Napoleon in 1814.

REGNIER. "An excellent officer." (I denied this, and gave Soult the history of his operations at Sabugal.) Soult replied that he was considered to be a great officer in France; but if what I said could not be controverted as to fact, he was not a great officer, his reputation was unmerited. (The facts were correctly stated, but Regnier was certainly disaffected to Napoleon at the time; his unskilful conduct might have been intentional.)

DESAIX. "Clever, indefatigable, always improving his mind, full of information about his profession, a great soldier, a noble character in all points of view; perhaps not amongst the greatest of generals by nature, but likely to become so by study and practice, when he was killed."

KLEBER. "Knew him perfectly; colossal in body, colossal in mind. He was the god of war; Mars in human shape. He knew more than Hoche, more than Desaix; he was a greater general, but he was idle, indolent, he would not work."

BERTHIER and CLARKE.

"Old women - Catins. The Emperor knew them and their talents; they were fit for tools, machines, good for writing down his orders and making arrangements according to rule; he employed them for nothing else. Bah! they were very poor. I could do their work as well or better than they could, but the Emperor was too wise to employ a man of my character at a desk; he knew I could control and tame wild men, and he employed me to do so."

You could do Berthier’s and Clarke’s job easily, huh? Well, I could name one battle of Waterloo that says otherwise, Monsieur! (So does Napier, btw.)

I think between Berthier and Soult all bridges were burnt. And it really may have been not only from Soult’s side. I can quite imagine how somebody like Berthier, “l’homme de Versailles”, coming from a noble background and placing great value on politeness and good manners, would react to Soult.

[corbenic]

The Ultimate List of French Fashion Brands: Part Four

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

5 Octobre; fine jewelry, fashion jewelry

Anissa Kermiche; fine jewelry, fashion jewelry

Anne Sisteron (USA-based; born in France); fine jewelry

Atelier Paulin; fashion jewelry

Atelier VM; fine jewelry

Bexley; men's, shoes, bags, accessories

Bonanza; fashion jewelry

Boneur; fashion jewelry

Cache Coeur; maternity

Casablanca; men's, women's, shoes, bags, accessories

Caulaincourt; men's, shoes, accessories

Charlotte Chesnais; fine jewelry, fashion jewelry

De Bonne Facture; men's, accessories

Drôle de Monsieur; men's, accessories

Elise Tsikis; accessories, fashion jewelry

Envie de Fraise; maternity

Études; unisex, accessories

Faguo; men's, shoes, bags, accessories

Fauré Le Page; bags

Gas Bijoux; accessories, fashion jewelry

Hartford; men's, women's, children's, accessories

Hemen; underpinnings

Heschung; shoes

Husbands; men's, shoes, accessories

Isabelle Toledano; fine jewelry, fashion jewelry

J.M. Weston; shoes, accessories

Jolibump; maternity

Jonak; shoes

Kleman; shoes

Lemaire; men's, women's, shoes, bags, accessories

Longchamp; men's, women's, shoes, bags, accessories, luggage

Louise Damas; hair accessories, fashion jewelry

Lõu.Yetu; fashion jewelry

Maison Labiche; men's, women's, children's

Michel Vivien; shoes

Minelli; shoes, bags

M. Moustache; shoes

Moncler (Italy-based, originated in France); men's, women's, children's, shoes, bags, accessories, activewear

Moreau; bags

Moynat; bags

Myrtille Beck; fine jewelry

Natalys; children's, maternity

Neuvième Ciel; maternity

Nouvel Amour; fashion jewelry

Octobre Éditions; men's, shoes, accessories

Patou; women's, shoes, bags, accessories

Patricia Blanchet; shoes, bags

Petite Mendigote; women's, shoes, bags, accessories

Persée; fine jewelry

Rondini; shoes, accessories

Rosaé; women's, shoes, bags, accessories, swimwear

Roseanna; women's, shoes, accessories

Salomon; men's, women's, children's, shoes, bags, accessories, activewear

Satellite; fashion jewelry

Sessùn; women's, shoes, bags, accessories, swimwear

Souliers Martinez; shoes

Vanessa Bruno; women's, shoes, bags, accessories

Vanrycke; fine jewelry

Vertbaudet; children's, maternity

Vilebrequin; men's, women's, children's, shoes, accessories, swimwear

[forbidden-forest-witch]

Destiné à Être: A Remus Lupin story

Chapter Five: The Order of the Phoenix

(Warnings:Smoking, drinking, language, sexual themes. 18+ only)

Word count: 4K

...

"We meet no ordinary people in our lives".

C.S. Lewis

"Hello, all", Dumbledore speaks. "Welcome to our new Headquarters. A thank you to Sirius for lending his family home ("as if I had a choice", the wanted man mutters). Allow me to introduce Brigitte and Auguste Moreau. They are our friends from France and have lent their hands". The siblings nod to the curious bunch before Dumbledore continues. "Which means Alastair, use caution with their missions. We don't want this turning into an international conflict...   Now all, I do wish this reunion were under happier circumstances. There's no doubt you've all heard the rumors by now, and I regret to say they are true. Voldemort is back". He pauses as the group gasps and sighs.

Brigitte looks down at her hands in her lap, stiffening as Dumbledore retells the events of that night: how the trophy was bewitched, Cedric getting killed by Peter Pettigrew, the Dark Magic that gave Voldemort a body again. He even reveals that a man named Barty Crouch Junior was using Polyjuice Potion to disguise as Alastair Moody, taking advantage of the close proximity to Harry. The real one is currently present, still looking a little spooked from being held captive by Crouch.

"There's already doubt regarding what really happened, but I think anyone who was present that night would verify that Harry was nothing but truthful, isn't that right, Mrs Weasley and Miss Moreau?".

Brigitte looks up and that's when she realizes she's crying, thinking about that night again. Fleur and Gabriele crying and the shock of seeing the young man's lifeless body. The tears take up half her sight as she looks at the crowd around her, and it makes her feel a bit embarrassed and vulnerable in front of these new faces. Brigitte stops briefly on Remus, who offers a sympathetic smile; then she looks at Molly Weasley. The older witch rapidly blinks away the tears and dabs her eyes with the corner of her apron.

"Harry... poor Harry, he'd never hurt Cedric! You know it could only be him, Dumbledore", Molly weeps.

"We put that maze together, Monsieur", Brigitte agrees. "I saw you cast the protection charms. I know the safety procedures that went into the game. And Harry, most adults for the matter, are not capable of killing someone like that. It was pure evil".

"So you helped with the maze? Albus, have you considered--"

"Everyone here has my confidence. Now, what I've heard from Harry, Voldemort's first course of action was reacquainting with his army of Death Eaters. Those who are not in Azkaban and were brave enough to answer his call. We now have Severus Snape relaying back information from that end. I suspect his next move will involve The Ministry of Magic-- specifically, the Department of Mysteries. Alastair will delegate", Dumbledore explains.

"I'll be watching the place most nights",Moody gargles. "Y' will all take turns patrolling and reporting back to me".  

"And other shifts we'll be all over London, looking for evidence of Death Eaters, and focusing on areas that certain people of interest live", a distinguishingly handsome Black wizard chimes in.

"Yes, any relevant sightings, please report them to Alastair and Kingsley first. Remember to use your patronus charm in case of emergencies, and memorize all these confirmed or suspected Death Eaters", Dumbledore waves his wand, and stacks of parchment form in front of each member. Brigitte looks at the top sheet, printed with a photo of a sophisticated wizard. His white blonde hair drapes across his shoulders with his rich velvet cloak while he looks ahead with his nose in the air.

"Be cautious around these people".

"If you run into trouble, come here. Sirius will always be around", Dumbledore concludes. "He will be staying out of the Ministry's reach until further notice. We also have Remus Lupin and Britt Moreau staying here, shall you need assistance".

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE", Moody shouts and slams his fist on the table. He orders half the group to join him or do other recon work that will take all night.  

"I muse be off. Perhaps you may look into Mister Black's criminal case", Dumbledore says to Brigitte. "Otherwise, stand by for instruction from Kingsley... Thank you again", he smiles at the Moreau siblings before slipping into the mix and leaving. All who remain are the Moreau siblings, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Remus, the pink-haired witch, a drunken portly wizard, a woman named Emmeline Vance, and Sirius Black.

"Didn't that man kill a bunch of people!? What the hell is he doing here?", Gus hisses into his sister's ear.

"There must be an explanation, hmm? Dumbledore wouldn't ask him to help if he was evil", Brigitte retorts, looking at the man in question. She remembers reading about Sirius' old reputation, and she can understand it, seeing him with his charming smirk and shiny, black hair. His youth is starting to peek out again now that he's not so frail. He's also dressed in attire that was most likely left in this house before his conviction-- old tailored dress pants, and a torn band tee underneath a leather jacket. He smells of booze and cigarettes. But it's the one next to him. Remus. There was something about him from that first time they met. His suit may be drabby and he may have premature age lines over his many scars, but that all fails to dull his loveliness. "His friend is handsome".

"And a little old for you, baby sister". Brigitte slumps at her brother's remark. Sirius lets out a cackling laugh at something the paunchy wizard named

"Mundungus" said, slapping Remus' tatty-coated arm when--

"Wotcher! I'm Tonks! Nice to meet ya", the pink-haired witch sits in front of Brigitte. "You're Brigitte, right? I got your file from the International Co-operation department a few days ago". She looks about her age, and quite stunning in a punk way. Tonks holds out her hand. Brigitte takes it, and leans forward to plant an air kiss on the witch's cheek.

"Nice to meet you, Tonks. I love your hair! And please, call me Britt... This is my brother, Gus", she says in her silky french accent. Tonks grins shyly at the dapper brother, who takes a step forward.

"Pleasure to meet you, Auguste", she says, letting him kiss her hand.

"Believe me, the pleasure is all mine".

Brigitte is taken aback by her brother being so uncharacteristically forward, and resists the urge to tease him in front of their new acquaintance. She glances around the room, feeling out of place. The older adults are discussing local affairs Brigitte has no knowledge of, Mrs. Weasley is singing to herself while finishing up dinner, and Remus and Sirius are leant against the counter, engaged in a whispered discussion. Well, Sirius is speaking while Remus peers hopefully at Brigitte.

She takes a deep breath and walks over, nibbling on her bottom lip her whole way.

"Hello again", Brigitte says less confidently than hoped. She looks up into Remus' eyes, his welcoming smile making her stomach do somersaults yet it somehow makes her feel calmer all the same. Remus however, has lost all eloquence and ability to speak. Brigitte's ocean-blue eyes twinkle in the light and the freckles scattered across her angelic remind him of a starry night sky, his mind is blank otherwise.

"Bonne soirée. Je m'appelle Sirius Black", he confidently steps forward, taking the opportunity to chime in. "Though I suppose you already knew that?". He mimics Gus' greeting, gracefully taking Brigitte's hand to kiss. Remus rolls his eyes.

"I can't deny that your photograph was plastered everywhere in Paris last year", Brigitte quips.

"Scared you off yet?".

"Don't you see me still standing here?".

"Cheeky little minx!", Sirius laughs. " Now-- first thing will be proving Peter Pettigrew is still alive".

"And here I thought it was going to be something complicated", Brigitte chuckles nervously", I must warn you now, my field is not criminal cases. I usually work with groups The Ministry is unfairly villainizing-- creatures classified as sub-human". She turns to Remus, peeking at the scars under his stubble. If her suspicions are correct, The Ministry has not been kind to him over the years either. He blushes under her stare. "But I will try".

"Moony can vouch for me!", Sirius slaps Remus' back. He nods. "Dumbledore wouldn't have asked if he thought you were totally helpless. But hell, we can go over all this later, roommate... speaking of, why you bunking with us instead of your...?". Sirius jerks his head at Gus.

Brigitte looks over her shoulder where Sirius gestures to Gus, who is completely enraptured with Tonks. She sticks out her tongue and squeezes her eyes in revulsion.

"Gus? Because he's my pain-in-the-ass brother. At this point, he wouldn't care if you are guilty. He wants me out of his flat, so thank you for letting in this destitute witch", Brigitte giggles in her purring, hypnotic accent. Remus' smile widens as her sound echoes through his head.

"I wouldn't be thanking me yet, Love. Have you taken a good look at this Hell hole? Pardon me". Sirius pushes off the counter and takes his empty whiskey glass to refill. Brigitte turns to Remus. He takes a dry gulp before finally speaking.  

"Forgive Sirius. It took a lot of bribing to get him to stay here. The Ministry's manhunt for him has heated up again after what happened", Remus explains, "He's got to stay put for a while, and this place doesn't have the best memories".

"I didn't exactly sense happy memories when I followed Dumbledore down that dark hallway". Brigitte takes Sirius' place, leaning against the counter next to Remus. "I didn't expect to see you here either".

"Me? I've always been around. I go way back with Sirius and Harry's parents. You walking in here was unexpected I'd say. How'd Dumbledore get you?", Remus asks with a playful tone, concealing some bitterness. Although seeing Brigitte again brings him indescribable joy, he knows the potential danger she's put herself in.

"He asked me an hour before I was scheduled to return to France", she says. "I say that sometimes I go looking for trouble, sometimes it finds me. I didn't hesitate for a second to accept Dumbledore's offer. I had no plans back home".

"Whether it's Order business or The Ministry, trouble won't be hard to find. You be careful out there", Remus advises kindly. He gets Brigitte a glass of champagne, and the two chat with one another until Molly calls for dinner. Remus listens to her talk about her time at Hogwarts and the highlights of the tournament, detailing how impressive Harry and Fleur were in the tasks Remus didn't watch. It's a nice change from focusing on how it all ended.  

At the table, they sit next to one another. Remus is across from Sirius, who's wearing a big shit-eating grin. Remus shakes his head and purposely avoids eye contact with his annoying friend, turning to engage in conversation with Arthur Weasley and Mundungus Fletcher. Brigitte assists Molly with finishing setting the table. She waves her hand and the fresh loaf of bread floats over while slicing itself.

Then she wiggles her fingers at the center of the table and a beautiful floral arrangement appears out of thin air. A bundle of black-eyed Susan's, daisies, and lavender. It looks like the flowers are growing out of the table and swaying side to side as if in a gentle breeze. Brigitte points her wand and two candlesticks zoom out of the hutch onto the table. She twiddles her fingers over the wicks to ignite a blue flame.

"Well, well. aren't you a special little witch", Sirius clicks his tongue while brushing his fingers above the flower petals.

"Reckon you could do some real damage with that", Emmeline Vance comments.

"If that maze is any proof, she can do things we can't", Molly elaborates, winking at Brigitte.  

"I remember seeing a glimpse of your talents when we met in the tent", Remus reminisces. "The burning candles".

"Oh, no it's nothing special. I really need to work on that, always flares up with my emotions", Brigitte shyly admits. "And that was a rather upsetting moment".

"Give me a break", Auguste quips, his stare slowly shifting from Tonks to his sister. "Should've seen the little brat's tantrums when she was younger. No one and nothing was safe. I can't imagine what she could do today".

"Keep talking and I'll show you! The incident when I was seven was your fault-- taking my doll and making me so upset. All your hair eventually grew back, move on. It was a pure accident", Brigitte flips her fluffy curls over her shoulder. She peeks up guiltily at Remus and subtly shakes her head and mouths 'no it wasn't', making him choke on a laugh.

"For our everyone's sake here, I'll drop it ... but I'll never be convinced it was an accident. The flames were so big", Auguste shivers before sipping his Fire whiskey. The group laughs at the bickering siblings as Molly works her magic and the feast appears on the table..

"You can light whatever you want on fire as long as it's never, ever my hair. That is the one house rule!", Sirius proclaims and holds his whiskey in the air.

"Deal", Brigitte chirps, clinking her glass with his.

"Moody's gonna love working with you", Tonks observes.

Sounds of forks and knives clanking against ceramic, appetized moans, and scattered discussions fill the room. Arthur, Molly, and Emmeline discuss some new Ministry security measures while hunched over their food; and Gus animatedly describes to Sirius the set up of his flat and alchemy lab.

Remus sits there silently, listening to the conversations and watching the young witches put on a show. Tonks and Brigitte entertain each other with their unique magic; the former makes fuzzy animal ears pop out of her colorful head while the latter makes it snow sparkling flakes around the table.

"So, you really like the pink, huh? I've been thinking about changing it", Tonks asks as she rapidly switches hair color.

"I do! Not many people could pull it off!", Brigitte conjures a flower crown that rests atop Tonks' magenta hair and makes her gush.

"I've had it like this for months. I think I'll try out some new styles. It'll be fun confuse everyone at work. I'm an Auror".

"Youngest Auror in decades", Remus speaks up quietly.

"Wow! Am I going to meet every notable Witch and Wizard in this country?", Brigitte guffaws, sipping her champagne.

"You're asking me that? I read your Ministry file-- changing laws all by yourself and an extensive history of humanitarian work?". Remus turns to Brigitte after Tonks' praise. She timidly glances at him, furiously blushing. "...You've got to keep up that momentum! I'll help with the Ministry whatever way you need. I have no problem stealing confidential files".

Brigitte can't help but laugh and thanks Tonks for the offer. "I will take you up on that once I get myself organized. This last year has been all about the Tournament, but I need to keep busy with it while I'm not doing things for this Order. Your country's ideologies are appalling-- no offense".

"None taken".

"May I ask what your field is in? I imagine magical creatures", Remus guesses. "Not everyone would defend the dragon trying to roast Harry Potter".

He and Brigitte share an enamored smile.

"Not dragons, per se. The Ministry has magical creatures listed under 'beasts' or 'beings' and I work with 'beings'. A couple Veela, squibs, and when I was at the Hogwarts I looked into House Elves; but my priority is Werewolves. I think they're treated horribly, and goddamn, your Ministry hates them...".

Remus can feel his heartbeat speeding up. The blood drains from his cheeks and rushes to his ears, pounding in him like a drum. He can only imagine what his face looks like. Oh, that's right-- covered in scars.

"...It's a crime in itself! They're innocent people–victims– who get treated worse than dirt! Their lives are hard enough without the Ministries interference", Brigitte finishes her rambling, nervously turning from Remus' unreadable expression.

"Yeah...". Is all he can manage to say.

  Tonks nods, looking impressed, glancing at Remus with a knowing smirk. "I like the way you think, Britt, but it's hard to make real change to what’s written, especially with someone like Umbridge making the laws".

"I read plenty of her work", Brigitte narrows her eyes. "It's severe and cruel. The current laws harm people with the condition more than they help keep others 'safe'. There's better ways than ripping apart families and kicking people out of society".

"That is very wise, Ms. Moreau. Unfortunately, I don't think many people share your views", Remus composes himself. "In fact, the revulsion the general public has against werewolves is what Voldemort uses to get them on his side. Promises something better than what they've got now. All they have to do is work for him in the meantime".

Brigitte gapes at Remus in utter horror. Tonks squirms in her seat.

"You don't mean...", Brigitte gasps.

"They're the perfect manipulation tool. Terrorize towns or infect young children to continue the cause. The laws are in place so that there is no debate on punishment if this happens", Remus explains.

"Those laws are exactly why they have to resort to that kind of behavior, no? We all deserve a fair chance. If they had wolfsbane, they could have full lives and even make our magical world better", Brigitte argues.

Seeing the determination in her eyes, Remus feels lightheaded with euphoria. Never in his life has he heard someone defend Werewolves so passionately. He scans across her face, trying to determine if she's really there or simply the most beautiful hallucination that only he can see and hear.

But helping strangers and being in close proximity with a werewolf regularly are completely different things, and Remus has a deep sense of dread thinking about confessing his darkest secret to her. He doesn't want to think about the pity or disgust in her big bambi-like eyes. He won't be able to hide it forever. The only two people in this room not aware of his dark secret are the Moreau siblings.

"... But that leaves the public vulnerable, and could lead to more attacks. Even if accidental. Then you'll be held responsible for advocating for their assimilation", Remus retorts.

"Well, Mr. Lupin, that's a risk I'm willing to take", Brigitte deadpans. "We're supposed to shun human beings because of something they cannot control? Something that happens for twelve hours, once a month? I rarely see magical governments offer assistance, like the potion or a safe place to transform. All they do is take away their homes and tell them they're monsters. No wonder Voldemort has taken advantage of them". She takes a look at those scars she's liking more and more the longer she takes his appearance in; but maybe she was wrong about how he got them.

"Whoa...", Tonks whispers. "You said His name".  

"And made some very compelling arguments. I just hope you can get them to listen when you make them in the courtroom", Remus chuckles dryly...

After the last slice of pie is eaten, Emmeline escorts a very intoxicated Mundungus out of the house. Molly swishes her wand and the next moment, the dishes stack up in the sink. As Arthur practically pushes her towards the door (so he can try to get in bed before sunrise), she reassures them she'll be back soon with her gaggle of children to help clean up the place. Gus also has work the following morning, so he offers to walk Tonks home.

"Moony, show our new friend her room, please", Sirius yawns. He gets up from the table, wobbling drunkenly before getting his balance. "I should feed Buckbeak, you can meet him tomorrow, Britt. G'night". He stumbles out the room, leaving Remus and Brigitte in a thick silence.

"I hope I didn't offend you earlier", she abruptly turns to him. "That wasn't meant to turn into a debate. It's the law student in me, and perhaps the champagne", Brigitte laughs nervously.

The scars on Remus' face wrinkle when he lets out a short but relieved sigh.

"The last thing you did was offend, I was the one being argumentative. You're views are quite refreshing. I see why Dumbledore personally asked you to join us", Remus assures her. Brigitte bites the corner of her mouth to stop from grinning like a fool.

"Thank you, Mr. Lup--"

"Please. It's Remus", he says smoothly, before shortly becoming too aware of Brigitte's maintained eye contact and how closely they are sitting. So close their shoulders bump. "M-may I show you to your room?".

Brigitte follows Remus up the black-carpeted staircase. Snakes wrap around the hand-carved railings, and each step creaks under their weight. Remus gives a condensed tour, pointing out the rooms they'll use so that the long halls with five doors on either side aren't so confusing. The living room is on the second floor across from where Buckbeak sleeps, their room is on the third floor, and Sirius is way up on the fifth.

"Who's Buckbeak?", Brigitte asks.

"Oh, just Sirius' hippogriff", Remus says casually as he opens Brigitte's bedroom door, leaving her with so many questions. She brushes past him while walking into the room, making him dizzy when her fragrance wafts into his nose.

"Well, here we are. Bathroom is the middle door. I'm on the other side of it and will be here most nights if you need anything. Sirius is always here, of course. Though I doubt he sees guests before noon", Remus jokes, leaning against the doorframe. "He never was much of a morning person".

Brigitte chuckles as she takes in her new surroundings. Heavily draped windows, black damask wallpaper from floor to ceiling. Her trunks are already lying on the bed, that's draped in black sheets. At least it's larger than a twin? She's surprised there is no Vampire coffin to tie the room together.

"I know it's no Beauxbatons carriage", Remus says, gauging Brigitte's facial expression.

"I can make it work. I appreciate all of this, everyone has been so welcoming. Thank you, Remus. I'll try not to bother you too much". He scoffs and waves off her being a 'bother', thinking that's the last thing she could ever be to him.

Feeling the exhaustion beginning to make her bones heavy, Brigitte pops open a trunk and pulls out the silky periwinkle quilt she stole from the Beauxbatons' bed. She lays it over the bed and instantly the room looks better.

Remus stands there watching her smooth out the wrinkles and trying to guess what song she's humming, until he realizes he must look like a huge creep.

"Well, I'll let you rest. Have a good night... Britt", he barely whispers as he closes her door.

"Goodnight to you as well, Remus. It is nice seeing you again", she says with a shy smile. He closes the door with a soft click and runs his scarred hand down his face.

"Shit...", Remus whispers to himself as he heads to his room, with Brigitte's subtle aroma still dancing around his senses. He retires to his room, kicking off his shoes but not bothering to pull back the covers before collapsing into the bed.

♡ ♡

Next part coming soon...

Masterlist

[ggomomomo]

académie chapter 5 | An Offer

"Why is it when trouble is caused, it turns out to be the three of you?"

Chloe clasps her hands on her lap. She has come down from the high of taking down two sentimonsters and wielding a Miraculous for the first time and is now facing the consequences. The three of them are sitting in Madame Bélanger's office in front of her desk. The scent of hot tea wafts inside the room, steaming coming towards their teacher's name plate poised in a manner that looks reproachful to her. The stone-faced Monsieur Pierre stands next to the door like a guard.

"What do you take the school administration for?" Bélanger continues in her clipped tone. "Idiots? Do you have any idea of what you've done?"

The three stay silent with bowed heads. Chloe is halfway to a panic. She'll be disqualified from the competition for sure, maybe even expelled, and her father will never hear the end of it. She bites her tongue and stares down at her painted fingernails.

"You ignored a school-wide emergency alarm, broke into a restricted section of the office, stole Miraculi from the school and proceeded to come after the sentimonsters without caution," their teacher lists off.

Felix opens his mouth first. "I take full responsibility for everything, madame. I initiated the stunt; Adrien and Chloe have nothing to do with it."

Chloe's head snaps up. Even if they were caught, the last thing she will do is let the pompous bastard take the blame. "That's not true, madame. Adrien and I took the Miraculi by our own choice. We're also at fault."

To this, Adrien nods. "We couldn't leave Felix on his own—he didn't force us to transform or anything."

Madame Bélanger  barely budges. "Of course the three of you will be punished accordingly. Our cameras caught everything and you are lucky that there were no witnesses around."

"If I may come to our defense, the school was in danger," Felix begins. Chloe grasps his arm tightly as a warning but he ignores it. "The monsters cannot be defeated without Miraculi and our heroes were all the way on the other side of the city. In fact, they never went here to check if the threat was contained even if the alarm was sounded off."

"That does not give you an excuse to act recklessly and try to fight them." Her voice raises slightly, which makes Chloe flinch. "And we called off the alert because we cannot possibly explain to Duncan and Grace how we took out the sentimonsters."

Felix is unrelenting as Chloe expects. She grits her teeth, knowing he's digging a deeper hole for himself. The boy continues, "So you had no plan telling them at all. Is it because you're hiding all those Miraculi? You didn't want them to know?"

Chloe swears she sees a nerve pop on Bélanger's head. The woman stares at Felix from behind her glasses, giving him a look that Chloe actually sympathizes with. Felix is clearly pushing the limits of the confrontation and turning it against the faculty. She and Adrien exchange glances but keep quiet.

"What you have discovered is irrelevant—"

"Those hidden powers that are potentially more lethal than the Ladybug and Black Cat are 'irrelevant'?"

Their teacher takes a big breath.

"Why hide them at all? Why not send out more heroes to defeat those sentimonsters?" Felix narrows his eyes. "Why was the school attacked in the first place?"

Though Chloe objects to intentionally and actively raising a school administrator's blood pressure, she does harbor a curiosity about those questions. The existence of other Miraculi are unheard of; it's enough news to shake the entirety of New Paris if ever revealed to the public. The fact that the Miraculi were discovered and used by them is already bizarre.

"Moreau Academy has the right and responsibility to handle these Miraculi." Bélanger replies, catering to their questions only a little. "And as you said, they can be more lethal than the ones you already know about. It will be extremely dangerous for these to fall in the wrong hands. As well as inexperienced hands, as you have done."

"But we did our job, didn't we?"

"Felix—"

"So why hold it against us?" Felix leans back on his seat. "Also, what's stopping us from making this little secret known to everyone?"

Chloe's eyes widen. To think that he will actually go that far. Sometimes she thinks she has him figured out but he always manages to come up with one surprise after another. It stuns her all the time, even if she's known him all her life.

She looks back at Bélanger  as if a match is about to commence. She doesn't know how strong Felix's blackmail is, as people can simply not believe them, but it seems to trigger something in their teacher. It's clear now that the other Miraculi are part of a watertight secret, with the dam threatening to burst because of one student.

Before Bélanger can speak, Felix runs his mouth again. "Considering this little 'secret', does it have something to do with the competition and the dirty deals done under the table?"

Chloe's jaw drops. "Felix!"

She doesn't know whether to laugh or cry about her friend's boldness. On the other seat, Adrien looks just as speechless, knuckles white from wringing his hands together. Chloe's head whips towards Madame Bélanger, who purses her lips together. The glint in Felix's eye practically screams that he has hit the target, saying 'silence means yes'.

Bélanger makes a brief eye contact with Monsieur Pierre. Chloe's stomach drops—she doesn't know what will happen next and she's afraid to know. Their teacher opens a drawer, the same one where she kept the Miraculi she confiscated a while ago, and brings the jewels back. Then, she hands them off to three of them one by one: to Adrien, the hairpin; to Felix, the bracelet; and to Chloe, the necklace. Confusion muddles Chloe's head.

"Here's what's going to happen." Bélanger's tone was softer, lower this time. "There will be no punishment for you three."

Chloe's grip tightens on the necklace. Is this a joke? A test?

"It seems that you are all curiously stubborn about this situation, and I understand that." For a split a second, vulnerability shone in Bélanger 's eyes. "I will make you an offer, Felix. Adrien. Chloe. We will not disclose what happened today to your parents and we will not be pulling you out of the competition."

She threads her fingers together and puts her chin on top. "In fact, I want the three of you to participate in the competition as you normally would."

"In return?" Felix plays with beads of the bracelet given to him.

"It remains a mystery how and why the three sentimonsters breached our school," Bélanger explains, "I want you to return the favor and investigate for us because our hands are too tied for us to move alone. There is a chance that this attack is not their last and it puts the students in danger especially with the incoming competition."

"Three sentimonsters?" Adrien frowns. "But there were only two."

"Three." Bélanger opens up her laptop and turns it around to show them the screen. A video feed of the security cameras pops up, showing the library of the east wing and a hulking sentimonster knocking over shelves. A suited figure stands on one of the tables, swinging around a sword. A few seconds pass and the strange girl disappears, morphing into a wave of water that floods over the sentimonster and short-circuits it to dysfunction. Bélanger presses a button, fast-forwarding the scene to reveal a sudden lightning strike that incinerates the monster into dust.

What the hell . . .? Chloe barely comprehends what she watched. Another Miraculous user?

"This is the other favor I wanted to ask." Bélanger paused the video. "This is a Miraculous that we do not have in our possession and only appeared for the first time today after decades. Since the wielder may be dangerous, I need the three of you to find a careful but efficient way to take the Miraculous from them."

"A new Miraculous," Felix marvels, not tearing his gaze from the screen.

Monsieur Pierre clears his throat from behind them. "We believe it to be the Miraculous of the Dragon, which controls the elements of nature."

My god . . . just how many Miraculi are there? Chloe takes in a breath and speaks, "But they don't seem hostile."

Bélanger shakes her head. "It is unpredictable what a new player on the field might do. It will be catastrophic even, if they were discovered by the heroes and seen by the public."

"To make things clear, you want us to trace the origins of the sentimonsters that attacked Moreau and this mysterious Dragon Miraculous user," Felix summarizes.

"Yes, and it must go without saying: you shall not speak a word of this to anyone. If you do, you will face worse consequences than what you should be receiving right now."

Chloe sits up straighter. That's enough for her to know not to fuck up the sudden job.

Felix reaches for the necklace in her hand. "To do this, I must take the Fox—"

"Absolutely not," says Bélanger , "The Miraculi I have given each of you is what you will be using and you must not switch them around. Upon deliberations using the footage of your fight, we deem these the best-matchups for your alter egos. Practice with your Miraculi and use them as you see fit with the situation."

Chloe's brows raise. She's sure that Felix handled the Fox well, and she herself felt a connection with the Bee one. She can't understand Bélanger 's motive for switching things up—she's not even confident about conjuring the right illusions or being stealthy. Adrien also looks hesitant whilst holding up the hairpin.

But Felix seems to have an idea about the reasons. A muscle on his jaw twitches as he lowers his hand and scowls at the bracelet.

"Is there some sort of physical guarantee about this whole deal?" Chloe asks. They have to make sure the teachers won't pull the rug underneath them if it's convenient even though they have blackmail material.

"I will draft a contract tomorrow to put it in writing," replies Bélanger . "For now, all students are advised to go home."

Chloe runs her thumb over the circular gem of the necklace. What did we just get ourselves into?

----

Even as Adrien arrives home, the hairpin weighs down heavily in his pocket. The events of the day feel like a fever dream and in any minute he'll be waking up. He becomes too absorbed in his thoughts that he nearly misses his father waiting at the top of the grand staircase.

"Adrien." Gabriel remains as his usual statue-like self, posture straight and hands clasped behind his back.

Adrien freezes like a deer in headlights. The immediate thought that comes to him is: did Madame Bélanger tell our parents after all?

He tries to read Gabriel's face. It's the usual expressionless mask, neutral, but not enraged. Adrien knows ‘enraged’ when it comes to his father, and this one is not quite that mood. His shoulders sag a little in relief.

He spares Gabriel a fake model-like smile. "Yes father?"

Gabriel begins to descend down the stairs. "We have guests this afternoon. Come."

Adrien follows him into the drawing room. What guests? He never brings guests to the house. Why am I involved? He hikes his bookbag up his shoulders, treading with uncertainty on the polished tiles.

The drawing room is brighter than he remembers, with the last rays of the sun filtering in, partially impeded by green curtains. Sitting on the antique chairs are two Moreau faculty members drinking tea: Monsieur Pierre and the principal, Fernand Thayer himself.

"Ah, there he is." Principal Thayer greets him with warm twinkling eyes as he dabs the corner of his lips. "Hello, Adrien. I hope you are alright after the school's incident?"

His breath hitches. Does he know?

"Umm, I'm okay," Adrien lies. He takes the seat across both men, with Gabriel taking the position next to him but keeping a good distance. Meanwhile, Nathalie is by the entranceway with her tablet.

That is when Adrien sees the envelopes on the coffee table. He suddenly pales in dread, getting a hint about why the principal and his teacher were there.

"So I understand you applied for the competition," Principal Thayer says, leaning back.

Fuck.

"Yes, I have." His cheeks ache from the faux smile.

"Upon careful consideration, we have reviewed your profile, and we would like to give you support during the competition."

"Sorry?"

Gabriel clears his throat. "What Mr. Thayer is trying to say here is that Moreau Academy will endorse you as a champion for this year's competition."

Everything Felix said is true. Adrien looks back and forth between the two. Me, me, pre-selected for the competition.

"I don't understand." He frowns. Maybe I can find out more through the principal. "The competition determines the holders of the Miraculi. Why endorse me?"

If Gabriel has given him a scolding look, he has ignored it. Principal Thayer seems unfazed and replies, "In every year of the competition, we have to make sure the winners actually turn out to be competent. Investing in a handpicked selection eliminates any doubt about the champions. All the information you need is here in the contract."

You're basically saying the competition is pointless! Adrien internally screams.

"However, if you do not qualify in the rounds of the competition, you will still be eliminated." Principal Thayer takes a sip of his drink.

"Adrien will get through the competition, of course." Gabriel lays a steady hand on his shoulder, not tight but suffocating for him nonetheless.

Adrien looks down on the paper envelopes, licking his lips. "But—but I don't think I . . . Deserve this privilege."

He speaks it as a candid truth. Obviously, Gabriel has pulled strings but he knows Chloe is more qualified in being a pre-selected pick. Even Felix.

"Don't sell yourself short, Adrien," says the principal, "You possess academic excellence, fencing and martial arts abilities, and charisma for a hero. We've carefully reviewed your background and application. There is no one more worthy."

Adrien doesn't say that those achievements don't feel like his.

"Am I the only one?" Adrien asks.

"There is another aside from you, but we will not be disclosing details about them as per what the contract says."

Adrien's thoughts flicker towards several other candidates. He and this other person are nearly already the future wielders of the Ladybug and Black Cat, a fate he has yet to wrap his mind around.

The hairpin feels heavier in his pocket.

"The contract also has an NDA." Principal Thayer opens up the envelopes himself to take out the papers. "I will give you until tomorrow to go over and sign these. I trust that you will not disclose anything to anyone, not even your closest friends?"

He nods. "Of course." Nope, I'll definitely be taking pictures and sending them to the others.

"Thank you for this opportunity, Mr. Thayer," Gabriel tells the guest smoothly. "Adrien will not disappoint you."

----

Marinette tries to slip unnoticed through the back of the bakery after school. She's halfway up the stairs when her mother calls out, "Marinette, honey, is that you?"

Marinette gnaws on her lip, grasp tightening around her backpack strap. "Yes, maman."

Sabine emerges at the foot of the stairs. "I heard what happened at school. Are you okay?'

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Did you get panic attack—"

"I said I'm fine."

Her mother purses her lips together, looking at her intently. She sighs. "Okay, well, we're taking Kai to the airport tonight. Do you want to come?"

"No thanks," Marinette mutters, marching up the stairs, head down. 

AO3 Link | Chapter Masterlist

If you want to support my works, you can buy me a Ko-fi here :3

[lenafromthenordiccoven]

“Custom-made suit, arrogant or stupid enough to think I wouldn’t notice you following me … Are you by any chance Monsieur Moreau?” She stumbled over the Monsieur and the French pronunciation of his last name. A grin spread across his face. Apparently, Josephine had warned the Chinese Huntress of him.

Blood and Darkness: a Dumornay novella, Sophie Grossalber, 2022

don't mind me, just posting a quote of one of my favourite scenes from my own novella lalala absolutely nothing to see here

[major-knighton]

Monsieur Moreau are you sure this is an eagle sir

Prometheus, 1868 - oil on canvas. — Gustave Moreau (French, 1826-1898)

[soulirisaimedia]

Monsieur Moreau - one of the characters of the screenplay 'Puzzled' - standing at the doorway off the library in the mansion in Monaco -an AI generated image based on the text of a screenplay 'Puzzled' by Seraphima Bogomolova.

[maxxi-the-procrastinator]

Reflections

Canon. College days. Pierre x male Avery.

Ink drips on the empty page spread under my idle pen. The inky dot stark against the white paper, taunting me with my lack of focus. I clench my jaw as my traitorous eyes slowly return to the window, rivets of rain streaming down the glass, blurring the darkening sky and college grounds below. Peering past the gloomy scenery outside, I lock onto the view reflected within the classroom. 

My pulse speeds at the clear reflection of Avery further within the room, hunched over his desk. Illuminated by the flicking candle next to his identical blank notebook, his pen discarded long ago. 

Avery plays with the small flame, his fingers catching the warm glow as he mindlessly dances his fingers over the heat surrounding the candle. Propping his head up with his other hand, his head lolling as he huffs through pouted lips. The flame dancing within his half lidded eyes.

My fingers twitch with the involuntary urge to mirror Avery, to feel the heat of the candle on my desk, warm my fingers that have gone cold from where they hover frozen above my forgotten book.

Avery fidgets in his seat, losing interest in whatever entertainment his candle was providing. Gaze lazily flickers around the room for someone else to bother with his distractions, but only finds others with their noses in their books, scribbling away with a focus that Avery is hard pressed to find. A focus that I should have, but find that I’m yet again letting myself get distracted by him.

His gaze settles and that infuriating spark returns to his eyes. Heat rushes up my neck as I realise who has the unfortunate luck of catching his attention. I tense, still locked on the window’s reflection even as the side of my face tingles under the phantom touch of his roaming flame licked eyes.

Avery pushes back from his desk, languidly hanging off his chair with an infuriating growing sardonic grin. 

“Psst… Moreau.” Avery whispers raucously. “Moreau. Psst. Oi-“

I pointedly ignore him, scowling at the window, praying that he would shut up.

“I know you can hear me.” I needn’t see his pestering face, his voice quivers around his smirk, but the sight riles me all the same. “Quit playing cute and stop ignoring me.”

I turn from his reflection and cut a look to his simpering self, the flame winking more vibrantly within his eyes here.

“What?” I snap. 

“I’m bored.” 

I scoff. 

“That’s really too bad.” I sneer.

“Come on, Pierre. Entertain me… please~.” 

I freeze, my stomach warming. I violently push down the feeling that hearing him say my name invokes.

“I’m not your personal jester. Go bother someone else.” 

Perhaps that clown that follows you around like a puppy. I turn away, glaring at his reflection instead.

“Why would I do that when I’ve got you.”

“Cet imbécile ne sait pas quand se taire.”

Avery blinks.

“Aww. I love you too.” He gushes.

“That wasn’t what I was saying at all.” I deadpan, agitated by how I find myself turning back to look into his twinkling eyes.

“Keep telling yourself that. I don’t need to know French to understand the language of love. And that, Monsieur… was a declaration of love.” He places a hand on his heart. “I felt it, right here.”

“Si seulement il ne pouvait pas parler.” I mutter.

The door slams, startling us both, Avery almost falling out his chair. 

“Moreau and Sinclair, why is it always you two?” Our professor bemoans.

“Come on, Sir. Don’t act like we’re not your favourites.”

The student next to Avery groans.

Avery shrugs. “Sorry, the truth hurts.” 

Our professor can only sigh in exhaustion, having long ago grown used to Avery.

I return to my empty page, staring down at the lone ink dot, determined not to let myself become distracted again. My hand drifts to the candle of its own accord, my cold fingers brushing over the flames heat. 

It’s heat tantalising within the cool room, despite the looming risk of being burnt, I keep finding myself drawn back to it.

My gaze inevitably flickers back to the window’s reflection, where Avery animatedly chatters his seatmate’s ear off.

Heat crawls back up my neck, a warmth that I quickly label as hatred. 

Anything to avoid being burnt.

~

[detournementsmineurs]

“Monsieur Klein” de Joseph Losey (1976) - sur un scénario initié par Costa-Gavras et achevé par Franco Solinas - avec Alain Delon, Juliet Berto, Francine Bergé, Michel Lonsdale, Suzanne Flon, Jeanne Moreau, Massimo Girotti, Jean Bouise, Louis Seigner, Michel Aumont, Fred Personne et les participations d'Isabelle Sadoyan et Gérard Jugnot, août 2024.

[spectaculardistractions]

From François Truffaut

Paris, 15 November 1963

Dear Monsieur Buñuel, Two years ago, a lady sent me a handwritten scénario in a notebook. It was an old story, based on a real case of incest in Andorra.

It was a fairly candid and melodramatic piece of work, which gave it a certain sense of beauty and power. Remembering that you based This Strange Passion on a somewhat affected and insipid novel by a woman and finding a certain Mexican tone in this script by Mrs Pauline Charles, I took the liberty of giving her your address in Mexico.

I also advised this lady to prepare a typed version of her scénario, because a manuscript is so easily lost. She had it typed especially for you and has written to me again this morning asking me if you received the scénario, and if you had, what you thought of it and whether you might return it because it is the only typed copy she has.

I hope I haven’t caused too much trouble with all this.

I’m also enclosing a copy of the lady’s letter, because it is very congenial and, that way, you will be able to reply to her directly.

I’ve heard excellent reports of your filming from Jeanne Moreau and I’m very sorry I wasn’t able to pay you all a visit. I should very much like to talk with you when you finish and, following on from the conversation we had a few months ago on the terrace of that café in Saint Philippe du Roule, would be very keen to hear your views on Jeanne’s acting.

With my most cordial greetings, [François Truffaut]

Jo Evans & Breixo Viejo, Luis Buñuel: A Life in Letters

[madneocity-universe]

* imagens meramente ilustrativas *

Panda Stretton: You're the last of the real ones

Do fundo de seu coração, queria ter voltado no segundo que fechou a porta. Suas coisas tinham ficado na casa de Jules e por mais que tivesse dito todas aquelas coisas e ficado estressada com ele, não queria ter saído daquele jeito, mas precisava respirar e quando se deu conta, seus pés já estavam lhe levando uns bons metros pra longe dele.

Levou um tempo até entender tudo que estava sentindo, repassar o que tinha acabado de acontecer em sua cabeça, perceber que não precisava mesmo daquilo tudo e que precisava pedir desculpas para Jules; ele não tinha culpa se ela sentia as coisas naquela intensidade caótica, muito menos por ela não conseguir se expressar direito antes das próprias emoções tomarem conta, ele fez a parte dele dizendo tudo que ela queria saber e ela foi a única que não o respeitou.

Ela terminou com ele. Ela terminou mesmo com ele.

Agora seu coração estava doendo por ter feito aquilo com ele, secou o rosto antes úmido enquanto se xingava baixinho por ter sido tão irresponsável e má e imatura, com intenções sólidas de voltar todo o caminho correndo de volta para Moreau quando sentiu uma mão ao redor de seu pulso, pra descobrir que pertencia a ele quando se virou no mesmo instante.

Ah, droga. Ela o fez chorar. Chorar de verdade.

— Jules eu sinto muito, muito mesmo. Eu não devia ter gritado com você e nem ter dito aquelas coisas horríveis e nem ter me comportado tão mal, não foi culpa sua. Eu sinto tanto… — Ela tinha um beicinho nos lábios enquanto apertava as mãos dele nas suas, preocupação evidente em seu rosto enquanto o ouvia com toda atenção agora. — Eu não quis dizer nem uma dessas coisas e quero me dar um soco agora mesmo por fazer você se sentir assim. Não quero a chave da sua casa, não sem você realmente querer me dar ela, e não só porque eu fiz um escândalo. Você é tudo, menos um namorado ruim e descuidado. Você é o melhor, sempre vai ser.

Seu coração estava tão pesado agora, os olhos estavam ardendo de novo, mas agora definitivamente ia chorar de tristeza e mágoa por ter deixado seu namorado, seu predestinado, triste e magoado. Tinha sentimento pior?

— Não quero terminar com você, eu amo você e você é minha alma gêmea, e eu também não quero mais gritar com você, e falar nada que você não mereça ouvir… É cansativo e estressante e eu nem me lembro mais porque fiz isso. Você é o único que merece e vai ser coberto de amor hoje, e mesmo assim não vai ser suficiente pra todo transtorno que eu causei. — Ficando na ponta dos pés, ela envolve os braços no pescoço dele e o abraça, com toda força e carinho que cabe nela, tentando fazer com que ele sinta todos os seus pedidos de desculpas e o quanto ela está sendo sincera, antes de recuar só alguns centímetros para completar. — Você não precisa se preocupar com isso, quando eu fui a única errada nessa situação. Sou eu quem tenho que perguntar como você quer ser reconquistado, Monsieur Moreau. Você namora uma garota sem qualquer tipo de freio, é justo.

Como se pra provar que estava mesmo bem e que não tinha uma só parte sua sequer, querendo arremessar ele na frente da rodovia movimentada, ela abre um sorriso gentil e genuíno, uma mão no começo do cabelo dele enquanto a outra segura seu rosto bonito. Pra onde tinha ido sua versão possessa e psicopata? Ninguém sabia.

[mystacoceti]

also people get so afraid of describing anything you end up with a novel full of fight scenes and none of them are as memorable as Frederic Moreau hucking a china plate into Monsieur de Cisy's stomach

I read a crap romance immediately after The Snetimental Education and (ignoring the madness of slapping a "feminism" sticker on your standard, patriarchal good man-evil man-pure hearted woman romance story) it was jarring to go from a very carefully written novel with a rhythm of countryside -> Paris -> suburb -> Paris etc, with uses of letters, anecdotes and summaries to a novel made up of almost nothing but short lines of dialogue. it was funny because the author had trimmed unnecessary exposition and summary from her story which would seemed to have fulfilled a narrow interpretation of the show don't tell rule, but instead the story was filled with characters explaining how they felt, characters repeating anecdotes and explanations the reader has already seen to new characters. but since this is all dialogue it feels both like there's a lot going on and like it's only tedious filler