Love in War (elandra & valerian)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Valerian on 20-09-2008, 01:41:10</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Love in War (elandra &amp; valerian)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Valerian</strong> on <strong>20-09-2008, 01:41:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				On the rue de Varenne, the sun was still barely shining on the canopy over L'Arpege.&nbsp; It was not the most fashionable of cafes, but it did have the distinct advantage of providing an excellent view of the imposing structure of Les Invalides.&nbsp; Tourists were no longer seen very often, and when they were, they were most often men speaking German, but it was still a lovely building, its dome arcing gracefully into the sky, a reminder of the days when France was the heart of Europe, a living, thriving, powerful city.<br><br>It was none of those things now, the country split in two, and landmarks like this one as likely to bring pain as pride.&nbsp; The cafe was still busy, though again one was as likely to hear German as French, and shortages had forced the menu to shrink.&nbsp; But it was suppertime, and the tables were crowded, the air full of chatter, and it was almost possible to imagine that it was still three years ago, when invasion and occupation seemed ridiculous.<br><br>One table, at the edge of the cafe, was occupied by a young woman, her only companion a small sketchpad.&nbsp; Unlike most of those who wandered Paris with paper and pencil, though, she sketched people rather than the art or architecture of her city.&nbsp; Much as it pained her to think of the loss of even one of the city's treasures, it was perhaps the loss of society that affected her the most, the idea that the German forces would change the most fundamental things about Paris' people.&nbsp; So she preserved what she could, in her small way.<br><br>Her food was all but untouched next to her as she worked quickly to finish her sketch of the waiter, a middle-aged man whose smile never wavered and who was always ready to chat as amiably with an SS major as with one of the pale, earnest young university students who preached defiance at all costs and whispered anxiously about DeGaulle in the corners.&nbsp; She was much the same age as those students, though she was certainly dressed more neatly than any of them would ever bother to be, wearing an outdated but well-tailored linen skirt and jacket that must once have been quite expensive.&nbsp; Her straight auburn hair was cut short, hanging just to her chin and now half-obscuring her face as she leaned forward over her sketch with deep concentration.&nbsp; For all the notice she took of the crowd, her subject and herself might have been the only human beings in sight, her greenish-blue eyes lively and intent as she worked.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Love in War (elandra &amp; valerian)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elandra</strong> on <strong>24-09-2008, 00:44:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hours he spent working on the paperwork necessary to keep the German operation in order in and around Paris, he and aide to the Oberst in charge of Logistics, if troops were needed to the north or artillery than it was his job to dispense of the men and/or equipment. The complexities usually mean that Dietrich had a headache two hours after reporting for duty, but if they failed or if they fell behind, loosing the war was a distinct possibility and so the Hauptmann did his best to account for every little detail.<br><br>Good with numbers since he was a boy, the blonde haired, blue eyed man entered the university at a younger age than most, his beliefs strongly inline with that of the National Socialist party when he had the opportunity to enlist he did so immediately, rising in the ranks when he was fortunate enough to befriend Oberst Kegel. Immediately,&nbsp; Kegel recognized the worth of the man from a workers family,&nbsp; his work ethic exceeding most when the Oberst was stationed to Paris six months previous he made it a point to promote the accountant and bring him to the city with him. <br><br>Leaving his young pregnant wife behind, Dietrich had gone to Paris, working almost every moment of every day to further the victory of his people and the Fatherland wholeheartedly. When his young son, Kristoff, named after his own father, was born, Dietrich had not had the chance to visit his family or his wife, he missed them both terribly, wrote to them constantly. After a grueling twenty-four hour period, the Obrest gently encouraged Dietrich to take a break, have a day to himself.<br><br>A day off was a rarity for him and he took full advantage of it whilst stationed in Paris, choosing to visit the tomb of one of his heroes, the great Emperor of France, Napoleon. For over an hour, Hauptmann Dietrich Hermann had strolled the streets along the Seine, entering the Hotel de Invalides, viewing Napoleon’s tomb as he wandered through the halls admiring the frescos along the walls before he wandered down rue de Varenne in search of a decent café.&nbsp; <br><br>It was at L’Arpege, he stopped, spying a woman whose beauty matched that of his wife, he could not believe his eyes and if he did not know better he would have thought her, his Angelika’s twin. Before he thought better of it and because there were no other empty seats, he approached her, ”Is this seat taken, Mademoiselle?” he asked in perfect, non-accented French. Standing just over six feet tall the lanky accountant with wire-rimmed glasses still wore his uniform, and shined black shoes, not a crease was out of place, his hat held under his arm as he asked her the question, his eyes sparkling. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Love in War (elandra &amp; valerian)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Valerian</strong> on <strong>24-09-2008, 05:16:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The language registered before the woman glanced up, and she was already beginning to give her permission by the time she took in the German uniform.&nbsp; Her voice faltered, but good manners won out over caution.&nbsp; This was hardly a clandestine meeting or a romantic rendezvous, and though she was as against any sort of collboration as any other French citizen, there seemed little harm in sharing a cafe table for a few moments.&nbsp; She realized now that there was very little room left, and as the occupiers went, he looked more civilized than most.<br><br>"No, go ahead," she finally said, recovering quickly from her false start and gesturing to him to sit.&nbsp; Her sketch was nearly done, and now she tucked it away to finish later.&nbsp; Much as she would have preferred to finish it now, ignoring him seemed too rude, and she could never manage to forget all her mother's careful lessons in etiquette.&nbsp; "I won't be too much longer."<br><br>She smiled, briefly but sincerely, remembering the food at her elbow and turning back to her plate as she tucked her hair back behind her ear.&nbsp; "It's such a lovely day, it seems half the city is out taking the air."&nbsp; She might have a fine line to walk, she realized, between natural small talk and nervous chatter, but at least he was polite enough, and spoke French far better than many of his countrymen.&nbsp; He was perhaps studying her a fraction too closely, but that wasn't unusual in a soldier, no matter his nationality.&nbsp; Now she realized that he was a bit younger than she'd thought at first, perhaps no more than a few years older than she was.&nbsp; "Have you been visiting the tomb?" she asked, nodding briefly towards the dome of Les Invalides.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Love in War (elandra &amp; valerian)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elandra</strong> on <strong>29-09-2008, 22:59:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The fleeting glint of perhaps fear or disgust in her eyes was not lost on the German solider, he was quite used to it amongst the French, they abhorring the absorption into the Fatherland, they would soon learn the glories and elations of being amongst the first to join the thousand year reign of the Third Reich. With complete patience and the tiniest bit of hope as he could not get past how similar she was to his wife, she so far away, he waited until she provided acknowledgement. <br><br>Continuing with flawless French, he having taking the language of romance in school and having practiced with his first lover, she not knowing an inkling of German, ”There is no need for you to leave and please I did not mean to interrupt your sketching.” The waiter appeared promptly and the officer ordered the special of the day sight unseen, allowing the chef to choose his meal along with a glass of red wine. Not to be rude, he offered to purchase anything his tablemate might want as well, ”Would you like anything else, Mademoiselle?”<br><br>Once the waiter disappeared into the door, he smiled as she asked the question, ”Indeed I have, the dome is magnificent as are the frescos along the walls.” If he had known that several British sympathicizers and Jewish families hid within the walls of that dome, he would most certainly not have had the same thoughts. "And you Mademoiselle, what has brought you here this afternoon?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Love in War (elandra &amp; valerian)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Valerian</strong> on <strong>30-09-2008, 05:25:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"No, thank you," she said, resolved now to be scrupulously polite to make up for her earlier reaction, which she could now see hadn't escaped those intelligent blue eyes.&nbsp; She hardly knew why she bothered, except simply to prove that she was civilized, capable of overlooking their respective, awkward positions for the space of a meal.&nbsp; If he was polite, so would she be.<br><br>"Yes, it is glorious, isn't it?&nbsp; I admit I know little of architecture, or rather engineering, but it must have been a marvel when it was first built.&nbsp; It's impressive even now."&nbsp; She smiled, forcing herself not to boast any longer about this particular French achievement.&nbsp; "I've mainly come to sketch -- not the dome, I'm afraid, or even the gardens.&nbsp; People have always interested me more."<br><br>His was a good face to draw, she thought suddenly, noticing the lines of his jaw and the arch of his forehead.&nbsp; He had good bones, as her mother might have said; not quite the square-jawed, solidly built Aryan of propaganda, but very close.&nbsp; That should have repelled her, perhaps, but it didn't.&nbsp; The alert, almost thoughtful eyes saved him.&nbsp; Again she realized those eyes were studying her, and now she felt compelled to react.&nbsp; "Do you sketch yourself, may I ask?&nbsp; You seem to be memorizing my face to draw later, at your leisure."&nbsp; The words and tone were gently teasing, but her gaze was very slightly uneasy, wondering if she was perhaps teasing too much. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Love in War (elandra &amp; valerian)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elandra</strong> on <strong>03-10-2008, 21:27:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Disappointed he was not when she did not accept food or drink from his coin, he understood her sentiment, understood why she would not want to be seen as <em>collaborating</em> with a perceived enemy. As the enemy he did not see it quite in the same light, the Fatherland had liberated the people of France from a corrupt and inadequate government, one that would never last the ages. He believed wholeheartedly in the Fuhrer and the past achievements of the German people’s and the success to come, but for now he was just looking for some decent conversation with a fellow intellectual.<br><br>”I apologize for my staring, Mademoiselle, you remind me of my wife in Germany, your features are very similar,” he confessed as his meal arrived. He thanked the waiter and then returned his gaze to the woman, though this time maintaining eye contact rather than staring. ”Sketching is not among my talents, unfortunately, though I would be curious to see more of your work.” Another man might have taken her teasing as an affront, but Dietrich was unwilling to allow anything disturb the beauty of this day.<br><br>”Perhaps I should have started our conversation with my name, I am Dietrich,” he said expectantly waiting for her name in return. He hoped that this would not be the last time he saw her, the intelligence in her eyes was uncanny and he was unaccustomed to the lack of fear in the French people. He found it refreshing.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Love in War (elandra &amp; valerian)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Valerian</strong> on <strong>05-10-2008, 06:09:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Simone," she replied, inclining her head in acknowledgement of his introduction.&nbsp; A faint smile played around her mouth, as she wondered, idly, if this supposed resemblance was true or simply a useful way to prolong the conversation.&nbsp; At least he was honest about being married, which was more than one could say for many soldiers, especially when they were far from home.<br><br>Again she felt a vague sense of alarm at this tête à tête, though it was still quite harmless.&nbsp; If nothing else, it was doubtful that she would see anyone she knew here, and it was still only polite conversation.&nbsp; Finally she turned to her sketchbook again, opening to a fresh page.&nbsp; For now her sketching was slow, however, as she divided her attention between him and her pencil.<br><br>"What are your talents, then?" she asked, smiling wryly.&nbsp; "You're an adjutant of some sort, perhaps?" she guessed, trying to decipher the insignia on his uniform.&nbsp; He would not have risen through the ranks, she was sure -- he was educated, with a certain polish, an intelligent man, and she was not at all sure whether that made him better or worse, in the final estimation.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Love in War (elandra &amp; valerian)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elandra</strong> on <strong>08-10-2008, 00:20:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The war between civility and flight was apparent behind her eyes but he made no comment, choosing to enjoy the after with her at least superficially by his side. With the manners of a gentleman, he ate his food, sipping from the glass from time to time as the waited constant made sure that everything was satisfactory. Each time, Dietrich assured the man that indeed he was very pleased, not once did he sound annoyed or exasperated nor did he ask the man to stop.<br><br>He weighed her question with great consideration, wary of spies within the French citizenry but she appeared harmless an artist trapped in a City overtaken by a conquering army. Still he was careful, ”Numbers, I’ve a degree in accounting and volunteered my services to the Reich.” The enthusiasm and loyalty in his voice would be apparent despite his attempt not to flaunt it while in her presence. <br><br>”Beyond work, I’ve a passion for history particularly the Napoleonic Era and the Roman Empire and though perhaps not a concert pianist I’m pretty decent with the ivories.” This latter remark was an understatement; it was not uncommon to find Geoffrey playing a piano with a huge audience surrounding him calling out suggestions, if he had heard the music once before he could play it. <br><br>Finished with his meal, he peered closely at her sketches, she was good and he complimented her on her shadowing. With a sudden devilish smile that lit up his eyes, he impulsively asked her, ”Would you be willing to sketch me, something I could send home to my wife?” Too it would allow them to remain together for the rest of the afternoon, but this thought had yet to occur to the German officer.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Love in War (elandra &amp; valerian)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Valerian</strong> on <strong>08-10-2008, 02:14:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Ah, a historian.&nbsp; No wonder you've found yourself here, then," Simone said, smiling to herself.&nbsp; Better to focus on that, on his interest in music, anything but the fact that he was a volunteer.&nbsp; Somehow that had been a blow, she'd been so certain that anyone so apparently cultured would never have thrust himself willingly into this war, and on what she could only consider the side of fear and darkness.&nbsp; It was easier to think that any loyal and enthusiastic military man must also be an unthinking lout, but that was clearly not the case here.<br><br>Then he asked his question, apparently on the spur of the moment, and she felt her face slowly grow flushed, much to her chagrin.&nbsp; She had in fact been actively avoiding the temptation to sketch him, to take up the challenge of trying to capture some of the animation in his expression as he spoke of his passions.&nbsp; Now he seemed to have read her thoughts, and his rather wicked smile made her feel quite helplessly put on the spot.&nbsp; "For your wife?&nbsp; Yes, I'm sure she must miss you."<br><br>She was stalling for time, and felt that he must know as much.&nbsp; Strange that she could be reduced to feeling like such an awkward, uncertain child, when for so many years now she'd considered herself a true Parisienne.&nbsp; "Well, women must stick together while men fight their wars," she observed.&nbsp; "If you think she'd like such a sketch, I'll be glad to provide one."<br><br>Feeling a bit calmer now, she once more turned to a fresh page in her sketchbook.&nbsp; "Will you be striking a heroic pose?&nbsp; Or shall we try for something a bit more everyday?"&nbsp; Again she smiled, almost in spite of herself.&nbsp; She should not be enjoying one moment of this time, but she found that somehow she liked teasing him, gently, especially since he seemed inclined to take such teasing very well, not at all what one might expect from a German.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Love in War (elandra &amp; valerian)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elandra</strong> on <strong>16-10-2008, 03:08:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				”I was fortunate my skills were needed in Paris or for certain I would have been sent to the East the Fuhrer’s efforts to overtake the Soviets and their treachery,” as he spoke his voice rose until it occurred to him others were staring at the two of him. He became silent, introspective, like night and day, he went from conversational to somber as if he had spoken out of turn. <br><br>Only when she asked him a question did he reply, his voice quieter, almost a whisper as he leaned in so she could hear him without straining too much, ”Yes, for my wife and young son so that he may look upon his father and learn of his respect for the Fatherland as well as the intellectual.” To her next question, his sat back and considered an answer, oh he knew he did not want a heroic pose as she had suggested, preferring the much more natural. He just found her comment intriguing; did she have such a low opinion of German soldiers in general and him specifically?<br><br>He kept his thoughts to himself, keeping his emotions held closely to the chest, not allowing them to escape so that reading his features was near impossible. ”I would think something more natural, perhaps sitting here at this café or in one of the many parks nearby or maybe even overlooking the Seine. I will leave that decision up to you, for I would not want to impose upon your time, Mademoiselle.” <br><br>He sat back in his chair and it was only then that he noted her upturned lips and her expressive eyes, she clearly had been teasing him and he had taken her words literally.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Love in War (elandra &amp; valerian)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Valerian</strong> on <strong>16-10-2008, 17:59:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Simone tensed at his sudden passion, surprised to hear him become so heated so quickly.&nbsp; It was a sharp reminder, which she scarcely needed, that she was still speaking to the enemy first, a fellow intellectual second.&nbsp; She could not let her guard down for an instant.<br><br>But the next moment, he was a human being again, another soldier far from home and missing his family.&nbsp; Was he always so mercurial, she wondered, or was it perhaps the pressures of war and loneliness making him so?&nbsp; That had changed all of them, French, German, or otherwise, and the only sure thing was that none of them would lightly be able to return to anything like what they had been before the war.<br><br>"I'm sorry, Herr... Hauptmann, is it?" she asked in a passable German accent, noting the realization in his eyes.&nbsp; "I'm afraid I was teasing you just a little.&nbsp; Blame it on the fine weather."&nbsp; She smiled, ruefully and a bit nervously, for one or two of their fellow patrons were still eyeing them warily.&nbsp; Packing up her sketchbook for the moment, she continued, "Let's not stay here.&nbsp; We can walk along the Esplanade towards the Quai d'Orsay.&nbsp; I'm sure we'll find a nice spot there."&nbsp; That, at least, had not changed in spite of everything, for it was still one of the most restful, lovely places in the world as far as Simone was concerned.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Love in War (elandra &amp; valerian)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elandra</strong> on <strong>20-10-2008, 20:44:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Nothing slipped by the accountant, not the way her shoulders tightened as she heard his rhetoric or the quizzical look crossing her eyes as he once again spoke of his family, he scolding himself for his lack of control. If he was to live in an occupied country where spies were prevalent he would need to learn to maintain a calm façade or become an easy mark, for the information he knew would be of vital if the enemy of the Fatherland were to invade.<br><br>With a practiced smile, one that became more genuine as she mentioned walking along the left bank of the Seine, he switched to German as he spoke softly, ”you are correct, Hauptmann, but please call me Dietrich, Mademoiselle.”&nbsp; He stood, leaving enough to cover his meal and a decent tip on the table and pulled back her chair so that she could stand with ease. Being away from prying eyes would definitely ease the tension that had been building between them, one he wished did not exist.<br><br>Again in German, though he paid particular attention so that if she did not understand a word he would translate it to French, ”Your suggestion is marvelous, perhaps we could end up in front of Gare d’Orsay along the Seine, the architecture of the train station has always fascinated me.” Other might have chosen the Eiffel Tower as a spot to be sketched but he found it to be too typical, there were other less known architectural marvels that the Hauptmann found more intriguing.<br><br>As they walked he would allow her to set the pace, he used to the fast moving pace of a soldier despite spending much of his time behind a desk. Intending to break the awkward silence he asked, ”Besides sketching, what do you enjoy doing?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Love in War (elandra &amp; valerian)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Valerian</strong> on <strong>20-10-2008, 22:37:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Simone was glad to stand and move away, though try as she might, she could not convince herself that she was imagining the looks she was earning from the other patrons -- the French women, she was sure, must all either envy or despise her.&nbsp; She felt suddenly, inexplicably, trapped, though she was on a public street, free to excuse herself at any time.&nbsp; Dietrich, she somehow knew, would make no fuss if she changed her mind, though she also knew it would hurt his feelings, and perhaps not only his pride.&nbsp; That was still no reason for her to feel that she could not escape, and yet the conviction was there.<br><br>Even stranger, she found it difficult to mind, at least on such a day as this.&nbsp; The weather was lovely, the war had been relatively quiet for a time, and whatever else had happened in the world, she was still young and even, sometimes, still optimistic.&nbsp; If she could not yet quite relax while walking next to this man, she was at least more content now, enjoying the stroll.<br><br>It was still, however, a relief when he spoke, of a more neutral subject.&nbsp; She even smiled, a small but genuine enough smile.&nbsp; "When I'm not sketching, I'm usually looking at art," she admitted, also in German, haltingly but with an excellent accent.&nbsp; "I studied painting at the University before it closed."<br><br>Again the shadow of their different alliances was there -- had Germany not invaded, she would be studying there still.&nbsp; But she felt a sudden sympathy for him -- clearly he was trying to put her at ease, so she did her best to be that way.&nbsp; Returning to French, she added, "I'm sorry, I don't feel like I speak German very well.&nbsp; But speak it if you like; I understand it well enough.<br><br>"But as I was saying, a great friend of my family's owns a small art gallery, and I help him with his business.&nbsp; An impractical sort of business in these times, but I must admit it suits me.&nbsp; My father often told me I dreamt too much."&nbsp; She smiled, clearly remembering happier times, though the light in her eyes soon faded.&nbsp; "And reminisce too much, perhaps.&nbsp; Have you studied architecture?"&nbsp; Using his name seemed too familiar, but neither could she use his rank; so she simply stopped herself from calling him anything just yet.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Love in War (elandra &amp; valerian)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elandra</strong> on <strong>24-10-2008, 23:25:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Stranger’s eyes upon him was nothing new for the Hauptmann as he strode beside the French artist, he careful to keep an appropriate distance despite every inclination to slip her arm into his own. Could it be he could betray his young wife so easily with this woman, to take her arm would go against all that he envisioned himself to be, an educated gentleman in uniform. He struggled to keep the inner turmoil from gracing his features, to control his passions, ones he was sure she did not have towards him or towards the Fatherland, though it would be treasonous to admit the latter.<br><br>Concentrating on the mundane, their surroundings, the slight breeze, the bird’s song from a hidden ledge just behind him, he took it all in as he attempted to keep his mind from straying. ”There is no need to apologize, I only spoke German because you had switched to it, I prefer to practice my French,” he replied to her in her native tongue when she returned to it. ”Had you wanted to become an artist in earnest or were you looking to work in the many art museums that grace this City?” he asked nonchalantly, ignoring the dark shadow that crept into their conversation.<br><br>”I have not had the pleasure to study architecture official; though I have done so of my own reconnaissance, applying the mathematical knowledge I gained in the university to admire the feats as well as the aesthetics.” They turned down the last street, the Seine directly in front of them, the old train station on the banks to the left. Nowadays it was used a mail depot, but it was still stunning rising above the river, the huge windows glistening in the sunlight and reflecting the barges below.<br><br>Almost jubilant, he reached out to grab her hand before catching himself at the very last moment, realizing what it was he was about to do. The City was infectious, he cautioned himself and he must watch that he keep his relationship with this woman strictly professional, despite how closely she resembled his wife. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Love in War (elandra &amp; valerian)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Valerian</strong> on <strong>27-10-2008, 18:55:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Simone smiled, once more comfortable in spite of herself as he asked her about her ambitions.&nbsp; "Much as I would dearly love to be a true artist, my intentions were always to work with others' art and leave my own efforts for my own amusement.&nbsp; I enjoy sketching and painting, and I'm sure I'll never stop doing either, but I fear my work isn't worthy of any museum or gallery -- not here, certainly, where art is so important to so many.&nbsp; It's part of Paris."&nbsp; That, at least, the city had held on to in some ways, giving her hope for the future.<br><br>"You studied math, then?&nbsp; My worst subject, I'm afraid," she admitted.&nbsp; "Still, there must be a lovely symmetry to turning numbers into buildings and bridges.&nbsp; I wish I understood it better."&nbsp; Then she caught sight of the old station, and she smiled at the sight of it, almost glowing in the late afternoon sun.&nbsp; Here, at least, there was no outward sign of occupation or defeat, only part of the heart of her city, and sharing this view with him made her forget things that she might have been better off remembering.<br><br>"Lovely," she breathed, speaking quietly out of instinct, trying not to disturb the moment.&nbsp; "I wish I could capture the light... but I fear a simple black and white sketch will have to do for now.&nbsp; I will do my best to make it a good likeness of you, at least.&nbsp; I have no wish to disappoint your wife."&nbsp; The last two words helped her to recover herself a little -- regardless of any other consideration, he was also a married man, and she was not so much the typical Parisienne that this held no weight with her.&nbsp; Best to sketch him and forget him, if he would let her.&nbsp; Now was not the time for anything like romance, she knew, and she would have to remember that, at least.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Love in War (elandra &amp; valerian)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elandra</strong> on <strong>10-11-2008, 01:44:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Perhaps if he were a better student of the intangibles, particularly those relating to human psychology he would have not have been so oblivious to some of the more subtle signs of interest, to the charms of this woman whom reminded him so much of his wife in appearance and mannerism. He was a man of numbers, dedicated to the cause of his Fuhrer and to the perfection of his work, logistics and accounting, leaving little room for emotions. Approaching the building, he smiled at her exclamation; the symmetrical beauty of the train station was indeed breathtaking, he choosing it to maybe offset his lack thereof. <br><br>That mathematics was her worse subject did not surprise the German soldier, it was not uncommon for one with an artistic mind not to understand the logical subjects. "I always had trouble with art, both the study of it as well as drawing." It was an understatement, his drawings were always the joke of the class whilst he was growing up and in school. It was a sore subject for the accountant, one he hated to dwell upon.<br><br>He looked once at her and then back toward the station, directing her towards the facade that faced the Seine, the sun glittering upon the river’s surface. ”I prefer black and white, Mademoiselle; it encourages the artist to concentrate on the details rather than the colours.” He took a seat on the steps; the sun over time would cast a shadow upon his profile, but for now brightened his smile.<br><br>”Is this acceptable, Mademoiselle?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Love in War (elandra &amp; valerian)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Valerian</strong> on <strong>10-11-2008, 17:40:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"You have your feet firmly on the ground and I have my head in the clouds," Simone summed up, smiling to herself.&nbsp; It was something of an exaggeration, of course -- she could be practical when she had to be, and he must have some romance in his soul to think of this portrait notion, even if it was partly an excuse to spend time with a young and pretty girl.&nbsp; And he had an eye for beauty, even if only in buildings.<br><br>Given his admission, it was no surprise to hear that he preferred detail to colour, though it still forced her to hide a smile.&nbsp; She grew quickly serious, though, as she studied his pose, the artist in here coming to the fore.&nbsp; "Yes, that will do... or wait, perhaps -- Let me see."&nbsp; She went up to him, putting her hand gently under his chin as she spoke quietly, completely forgetting she was speaking to a German.&nbsp; "If you could turn just a bit more to the left... yes, like that.&nbsp; Perfect."<br><br>She smiled, clearly in her element, relaxed and genuinely happy. Now there was no question of her being wary, of being watched or marked as a collaborater -- she was only doing what she liked best, trying to capture the image of another's face and expression on the page.&nbsp; She'd been right; his was an excellent face to draw, a good challenge, and she soon lost herself in the work.<br><br>Details came naturally to her, thankfully, and he would not be disappointed there, she suspected.&nbsp; his face took shape slowly but steadily, her pencil gradually working its way out to catch some of the facade behind him.&nbsp; This was the right setting for him, with its geometric, regular beauty, and she smiled again, unknowingly, as she worked, thoroughly enjoying every moment.
			</dd>
		</dl>
		<div id="footer" class="smalltext">
			
			<span class="smalltext" style="display: inline; visibility: visible; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=credits" title="Simple Machines Forum" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF 2.0.19</a> |
 <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org/about/smf/license.php" title="License" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF © 2021</a>, <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org" title="Simple Machines" target="_blank" class="new_win">Simple Machines</a>
			</span>
		</div>