fannyfae: (WWII)
Rage, the temerity of it all, of the Nazis to have burned the church at Orandeur-sur-Glane was unthinkable. Francoise de Rochefort’s heart nearly stopped in her chest when she saw her friend, Colonel Robert Grayson carrying the limp form of Amarante from his car to the front entrance of the chateau. The girl’s face, body and limbs were smudged with, blood, soot and ash. Her hair was singed and matted with blood, her clothing in tatters, shoes were also now missing. No, it couldn’t be like this, not like this! Not her! Read more... )



Muse: Francoise de Rochefort
Fandom: Original Character
Word Count:1819

Ths post originally appeared in the online novel "World Under Siege" on Pan Historia. Special thanks to the amazing scribes of[personal profile] all_for_me, [personal profile] sunandshadows [personal profile] ambrogino_giovanni, [personal profile] isabel_giovanni and [profile] civ_barbarian for the use of their musess in this work and for thier hard work and friendship over the long haul.
fannyfae: (main gauche)
“You will beg me for death, Cheri. And I promise you that. And when at last Hsu and more importantly, I am satisfied with your answers and if and when I am feeling magnanimous, I will grant your request.”DISCLIAMER: NSFW for potential triggery / violence )


Muse: Francoise de Rochefort
Fandom: Original /Folklore Mythology
Word Count: 1540

(Special thanks to Hsu Danmei and his scribe)
fannyfae: (sweat)
When someone yells ‘fire!’ somewhere like Tombstone, the entire town comes out to help. We live in a desert, and the chances of everything burning to the ground are very high. Outside Ike Clanton’s restaurant where I was taking dinner with Johnny Behan, the streets erupted into pandemonium. Fire trucks, horses, people were running toward the blaze. Even I was not unmoved by the commotion and rose from my chair.

“Where are you going, my dear?” Behan looked surprised, “I am sure that the town fire department have things well in hand. At least finish your supper.”

I felt my neck and my ears grow hot, and it was not from the fire. If something needs to be done, I see little point on sitting on your duff and not doing a damned thing about it, and this was definitely no exception. It stuck in my craw that Behan was so nonchalant about the what was going on around him!

“You can go ahead and sit there and finish your dinner, Johnny, but I cannot nor will I sit there while the rest of the town, including this restaruant’s proprietor is out helping!” I pushed my seat aside and shot him a look before I stormed out, “I know that you cannot risk spoiling your suit so I’ll be sure to send your regards to the rest of the town folk on your behalf.” I slammed the door behind me and could hear the thin wooden walls reverberate with the force of it. But I didn't care. Johny Behan was an elitist snob as far as I was concerned, and there wasn't anything he could have said that would have made me stay.Read more... )

Muse: Francoise de Rochefort
Fandom: Original Character / Folklore / Mythology
Word Count: 1362
Disclaimer Fanny Fae / Faelyn is mine,& history belongs to itself.
(Special thanks to the hand behind [profile] wyatt_earp on Pan Historia.)

© Ma'at Publishing
fannyfae: (WWII)
"And miles to go before I sleep." -- Robert Frost

either of them had done anything that I could condemn them for.

And yet the glances exchanged over dinner, and chess and now on the dance floor of the ballroom left very little to the imagination. From the moment the two had met, the SS Colonel and my youngest daughter, Jocelyn...Joie-Lynn had established a bond. Long glances, deep conversations and shared laughter punctuated their association from the start.

I bid the last guests goodnight. Jean-Pierre Moreau, the Chateau foreman, had left after he had received word his young daughter was running a fever. Begging my forgiveness, he left the gathering, but I suspected it was more than that. I agreed he should be with his daughter and promised that I would send Amarante to see to her or look to the child myself to make sure that it was nothing too serious. Like all good fathers, and certainly since the death of his wife, he was so very much more attentive to the little dark haired cherub with bright blue eyes. In spite of his obvious affection also for Jocelyn, the love of a father was stronger. In those eyes I saw how Sebastien had been with both of our daughters. Nothing could keep him away from either of them if they were sick or hurt. Read more... )


Muse: Francoise de Rochefort / Fanny Fae
Fandom: Original Character / Inglorious Basterds' (meta)
Word Count: 940
(originally posted to Pan Historia writing community)

© Ma'at Publishing

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