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 Post subject: Letters From the Pit
PostPosted: Mon April 26th, 9:52 am 
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Joined: Sun April 25th, 8:32 pm
Posts: 16
Location: Surrey, England // Monterey, CA // Sydney, Australia
Gender: Melini (Brunette)
Nationality: Kadorian
These are a series of letters, perhaps a story if you will, written from the perspectives of characters from the film "Olivia" and I hope you enjoy them. The movie enamoured me to a point where I began to re-write the story, and then I simply fell in awe of the beauty of the kinema itself and well....voilà la solution !

From time to time, I find myself enamoured by a novel, play or film (sometimes even all three), and it inspires me to write.....and here we are.


It is an indescribable emotion.

I pause for a moment to consider what I have just exposed myself to, but the words do not seem to form on my lips in time. Perhaps it is mourning, perhaps it is catharsis....it is a sad, trembling sensation. It is that moment of absolute desire, as well as resolute rejection. "For the best" she says. I don't believe it.

I see arms outstretched toward the girl, and while she longs to continue, she must pull away. Her eyes flutter, listening to the tears as they disgrace the cold, hard floor. And you can see it in her movement, in her eyes, that there is a love which transcends age...and yet, she tears away, and tenders this as a meager offering to both herself and the other...

"Je t'aime bien, mon enfant....plus que tu ne crois."

I hear your voice and I yearn to come to you...I wonder what it is that beckons me thus, but I am powerless against it...and I secretly long for you in spite of circumstance. A tender affectation...words of inspiration and learned magnificence. You are divinely poetic, strong and intelligent.

My stomach is tight now and I am breathless....I have heard your words--no, I have breathed them. They are inside of me, coursing through each and every vein...they are in my cells, at the core. This is the most delicious torment I have ever suffered, this wanton love...this passionate, unrequited abandon.

"...pour le mieux, pour le mieux de l'une...comme de l'autre.."

Now, my bones are withered and my skin is alight with an agonising hunger. The injustice is more than I can bear, that I should love you the way I do and be without you, that you should leave me behind. I am utterly defeated where once I should have liked to claim the most earnest victory.

I am not your child but your love, and there will never be another like me in your life.

I am driven to succeed under the auspices of such a beautiful creature, as demure and decadent as you. No other life can proxy your smile, or that silken voice which pours from your lips. You are as cruelly implacable as you are wholly irreplaceable.


"Tu as ta part...un joli regard, une jolie bouche..."

I feel your lips upon my cheek as you whisper fondly. You tell me grace is more preferable to you than simple beauty.





"Approche et je te dis un secret. Je viendrai ce soir."

My heart is set to swooning, fixed upon yours...relentless.

And so, I wait....but you never come. I am defeated. It is as you said it would be.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I looked to that gentle, innocent face and smiled. I felt the familiar stinging of tears as they rolled over each cheek, not upon mine but hers. Her pain had become a part of me and with every word dripping from my lips, I knew we were both defeated. I had tried all my life to destroy these tendencies, to charge myself with the love I had always known for Cara. I would have given my life for hers. But this young creature, demure and genuine, was no longer a child, for she loved me as I loved Cara. I could sense that in each moment we passed in each other’s presence, I found it more increasingly difficult to be away from her.

I could not be with her in the way that I desired and I knew this was the right way of looking at the situation. The moral, right thing. And yet, and yet…I found myself approaching her from behind. I lingered there, helpless, nearly as helpless as she was. My hands reached out and grazed over her petticoat but as soon as they fell upon the material and my head sank back, upward toward the heavens, something stopped me. I pulled both hands back to my own bodice, silently scolding myself for my cowardice.

She covered her face with one arm, burying it in her sleeve as she continued to stand there weeping. I took a few paces away from her to right myself and come to my senses about the whole affair. The truth was that I loved her beyond measure, but as much as I wanted her, I could never betray my affection for Cara. Cara was the one soul in the world I had ever truly, really loved, and she already suspected that I was lost to this pretty young thing. I could not bear the slightest agony if I ever tender such affections toward someone else, but a pupil ? True, this radieuse beauté was alight with a longing to listen to my words, to believe and trust in me in a way that Cara never could. I had never known such suffering in all my life until now. It was the last wish of mine to cause her any further torment and so I offered her one small morsel of consolation, though I knew it would do little good.

“Je t’ai causé de la peine hier soir, je le regrette,” I paused to breathe and then continued, “but if you cannot understand why I did it then I shan’t explain it to you. There is, however, one thing I want to convince you of, and that is that I have done what is best,” the words were stale in my mouth as I spoke them, but I managed, “what is best for the one…as well as the other…” She burst into tears even further at this. I could no longer bear to stand there and listen. I went to the door and opened it but I could not cross the threshold this way. I turned back and emptied my heart of its final innocence. “Je t’aime bien, mon enfant…plus que tu ne crois.” And I left with the knowledge, the knowledge that I was the source, the sole cause of her anguish. This was a truth which tormented me further by and by.

And yet…and yet.

_________________
"Jamais, c'est un petit mot...tres court. Tu verras."-La Première, Edwige Feuillère


Last edited by KatharynKing on Mon May 17th, 8:37 am, edited 1 time in total.

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 Post subject: Re: Letters From the Pit
PostPosted: Wed April 28th, 10:45 am 
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What a lovely imagining of the thoughts and soul of Mlle. Julie in these heart-wrenching scenes! Thank you so much for sharing this beautiful gift from your heart!

I wonder if there is another blonde/brunette test to go with the notorious Ribbon test and the Kiss test - the Premère test. When you see Edwige Première do you long for her to kiss you, or do you aspire to be her?

Surely that separates the melini from the chelani!


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 Post subject: Re: Letters From the Pit
PostPosted: Wed April 28th, 6:48 pm 
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Joined: Sun April 25th, 8:32 pm
Posts: 16
Location: Surrey, England // Monterey, CA // Sydney, Australia
Gender: Melini (Brunette)
Nationality: Kadorian
I added a great deal to this, by the by, and I shall post it tomorrow ...!

I think I find a mixture of both personae within myself. I have known what it is to fall in love with a teacher, and so at one moment I long to be Olivia and then at the other, I wish to be Julie so that I can make a different choice in her place. Carry her grace, elegance and maturity and allow her to give herself over to the love she feels for Olivia. I suppose that naturally, I would love to have been kissed by Mlle Julie, but by someone who is a more suitable companion-figure (by Tellurian standards, someone who is older and not a pupil under her auspices). I myself am often more attracted to older women, so I desire Julie in this instance, while simultaneously rooting in Olivia's favour.

Cara is a histrionic, vain little creature. She is not attractive to me at all...her jealous nature and mistrust of Julie, who, in the end, suppresses her desire for Olivia because I believe she truly loves Cara and would never wish to hurt her, leads to her suicide. Even Julie herself, if not for Olivia sitting outside her door in the cold all nightlong, would have taken her own life as she told Cara she would give her life for Cara's. Cara didn't deserve her. Olivia worshipped her and perhaps this was a tempting offer for Julie but she still managed the high road in the end, though it was a painful choice to leave.

I can't help but wonder whether they cut a kiss between Julie and Olivia from the film. When Julie comes to Olivia's room to say goodbye, she leans terribly close to her and there is a pause after she says "Même à toi, Olivia..même à toi..." It looks as though their lips are dangerously close but then it hiccups and that's when Julie asks Olivia to let go (which of course, she refuses to do).

I did re-write this story, adapting it with my own version in mind...I'm sure I will post that in the not too distant future, if I see there is enough interest ! *hint hint*



I can't help but wonder if I will encounter a similar situation in my own life...for I endeavour to become a teacher and in the Tellurian world , no less ! I only hope that if such a thing ever does happen, that I draw from the strength of Julie's moral character. To be honest, I'm not inclined toward young girls but if one should find me in the way that Olivia found Mlle Julie....at least I have an example to take.

And, as promised, here are the rest..

How many times will she come to my room and if only to say goodbye, I wonder. I must not stay here any longer. It was too much for us this way. Still, I have but one small hope left, for I know she shares my love, but she should love Cara and so she does. It must be so burdensome loving such a histrionic woman. Mlle Cara makes it so difficult to love her, always malingering, always suspecting and always being so mistrustful of Julie the way she carries on so. I often wonder how Julie can stand it.

Perhaps it is that when you truly love someone, you will stand anything.

But I see the way Julie looks over to me during the readings, and how her voice tenders to me. Oh, how it ignites me so ! I am a felled tree upon the axe of my huntress and I feel her struggling to reach out to me, but her love for Cara seems stronger. If only she would leave go ! If only...

I heard her say to a girl that Mlle Cara is the only person she has ever really loved. If this is true, then what am I ? A mere fleeting, ephemeral attraction ? An echo ?

I saved her life.

If I could only tell her ...

"My Love,

You hair, divinely embraced by clip and curl, silken to the touch-oh ! And how I want to be enveloped by your skin, equally as supple. Your lips, decadently attending the words of the Greeks, may they attend mine as well. I beg of you to not leave go, oh never, never leave go of me, for I have seen your eyes upon mine from across the parlour, but why do you not come to me ? Instead, digits outward, you beckon me to your side and I, lured as moth to the flame, join you in your Olympian state. The hands which hold this pen now aloft, tracing the outline of your cheeks and eyes in the air, are now alight with a hunger, such a hunger as I have never known in all my young life. I am beyond a simple state of lust. Yes, lust is simple. If only it were that ! Yet how I long to reach now beyond the simple things, to soothe your anguish with a kiss and yet still more than a caress--but beneath the rest...

For you are Glorious, molded as celestially magnificent as Creation itself, yet more beautiful and I long to seek our your curious design. Oh my love, couple your fingers and palm to mine ! Take from me all that you give me twice over and as I fell my lips upon yours, allow me to seek the truest, most earnest delight in you. For how deftly you caress my skin. I pray you, give in to this moment, for it will never come again. You see, now is the most precious time.

The world is at your feet, and so am I, my darling."

It is the heart that owns, wholly possesses my body. It is the delicacy of her movement. It is the eternal strength in every convicted syllable now spilling from her genteel lips. Not just any one will do. My heart stirs for La Premiere. The First. The One.

The one who will stop my heart from beating and each cell into a fit of dearest longing. I can no longer be still, for I think of nothing else but her skin against mine and her lips, oh such lips, the very core of Womanhood, enveloped in my own. I find myself now in the throws of sincerest, most passionate abandon. May I never return.

May this plague of wanton desire never escape me.

May the Most High smite me with the alluring love of a Woman, and may I never recover.

May I always love and hope to be encoupled by that Truth,
The eyes and the sould of the Goddess, my Love.

For it is as natural to me as the sunset. Beautiful, majestic. Radiant.

O Divine, punish me evermore with such Sapphic tendencies, and hear my plea to this love, my almost lover:

Lend me your hands a moment,
That I may tender the most humble affections
Upon them.
That I may grace your figure with the Most,
the Utmost care and Adoration.
For this is not sex, the act.
This is the Art of Love, divine,
The Venetian body Beautiful.

O, La Premiere,
Je suis a toi.
Oui, mon amour, a toi.
Ne dis pas que c'est la fin de notre histoire,
Ne le dis pas.
Ne le dis jamais.
Je mourrai certainement sans toi.
Ne me quitte pas.
Laisse-moi t'embrasser et te caresser,
Ne me laisse jamais.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


"Come sit beside me."
To have you at my side, mon enfant, such a reward !
Our hands interlaced now, my heart alight once more.
I am in love.
How I dream of holding you fast,
For I may never again know such a love.
How you cling to each syllable as if were the very air itself, coursing through your lungs, giving you breath.
My words, such words, providers of each inhalation, and we are lost to them, both of us.
Your name, may it linger on my lips forever,
and may your eyes never cast from mine.
For here am I, in soundest confession, admitting my love for you.
You have at last weakened my defences, fallen now are all the fortresses.
I am defeated, drowning in the ocean, brought asunder by your advances and your tongue, and the expression of your eyes as they seek me out in the Sapphic depth.
If I have lost, then so, mon amour, have you.
Come now, close to me, and let us linger by the wayside.
That I may attend to you hereafter, until the bitter end.

_________________
"Jamais, c'est un petit mot...tres court. Tu verras."-La Première, Edwige Feuillère


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 Post subject: Re: Letters From the Pit
PostPosted: Tue May 4th, 9:07 am 
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Joined: Sun April 25th, 8:32 pm
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Location: Surrey, England // Monterey, CA // Sydney, Australia
Gender: Melini (Brunette)
Nationality: Kadorian
Here is the first installment of my adaptation of Olivia---P.S. I bought the book, waiting eagerly for its arrival !


"Porcelain: Olivia Revisited"

by

Miss Katharyn R. King


I looked to that gentle, innocent face and smiled. I felt the familiar stinging of tears as they rolled over each cheek, not upon mine but hers. Her pain had become a part of me and with every word dripping from my lips, I knew we were both defeated. I had tried all my life to destroy these tendencies, to charge myself with the love I had always known for Cara. I would have given my life for hers. But this young creature, demure and genuine, was no longer a child, for she loved me as I loved Cara. I could sense that in each moment we passed in each other’s presence, I found it more increasingly difficult to be away from her. I could not be with her in the way that I desired and I knew this was the right way of looking at the situation. The moral, right thing. And yet, and yet…I found myself approaching her from behind. I lingered there, helpless, nearly as helpless as she was.

My hands reached out and grazed over her petticoat but as soon as they fell upon the material and my head sank back, upward toward the heavens, something stopped me. I pulled both hands back to my own bodice, silently scolding myself for my cowardice. She covered her face with one arm, burying it in her sleeve as she continued to stand there weeping. I took a few paces away from her to right myself and come to my senses about the whole affair. The truth was that I loved her beyond measure, but as much as I wanted her, I could never betray my affection for Cara. Cara was the one soul in the world I had ever truly, really loved, and she already suspected that I was lost to this pretty young thing. I could not bear the slightest agony if I ever tender such affections toward someone else, but a pupil ? True, this radieuse beauté was alight with a longing to listen to my words, to believe and trust in me in a way that Cara never could. I had never known such suffering in all my life until now. It was the last wish of mine to cause her any further torment and so I offered her one small morsel of consolation, though I knew it would do little good.


“Je t’ai causé de la peine hier soir, je le regrette,” I paused to breathe and then continued, “But if you cannot understand why I did it then I shan’t explain it to you. There is, however, one thing I want to convince you of, and that is that I have done what is best,” the words were stale in my mouth as I spoke them, but I managed, “what is best for the one…as well as the other…” She burst into tears even further at this. I could no longer bear to stand there and listen. I went to the door and opened it but I could not cross the threshold this way. I turned back and emptied my heart of its final innocence. “Je t’aime bien, mon enfant…plus que tu crois.” And I left with the knowledge, the knowledge that I was the source, the sole cause of her anguish. This was a truth which tormented me further by and by.


And yet…and yet.

_________________
"Jamais, c'est un petit mot...tres court. Tu verras."-La Première, Edwige Feuillère


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