#reaction ; laurent st. pierre
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As the fight ended, brutally at that, with little nerves left, Adriana turned her attention to her sister.
Even though she had stopped it, even though she didn’t allow it to get to the tragic end - for Adriana it was still a little too late.
“Did this one go exactly as you wanted?”
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Type: Reaction / Mini-Self Para.
Mentions: @laurent--stpierre
Amélie stood alone, a glass of prosecco in her hand. The room had been filled with laughter, and while she stood far from it, she could appreciate the coming together of family and friends. Scanning the room slowly, storing away small things, as all writers did for future use. However, that all changed in a heartbeat when her gaze caught on a figure who just walked through the door.
Laurent St. Pierre.
Tall and impeccably dressed, he exuded an air of confidence that drew eyes everywhere he went. To most, he was just another good-looking, well-off gentleman from France. They didn't see the mobster. They didn't see people laying dead across the city they called home. No, of course not. The media censored that kind of stuff, she'd know.
To Amélie, he was a living embodiment of her shattered family and the web of secrecy that had consumed her brother. She held all the French accountable, and there was something so achingly hateful about the thoughts she felt towards him, no matter how many times she tried to pray for forgiveness for those thoughts.
They still clouded her every day.
Laurent St. Pierre was a figure in the French Organization. She knew of him. But she quickly realized she didn't know all that much about him, or any of them, for that matter. One of the reasons she'd been struggling to get anything on them at all was because they were masters of their craft. Never a single thing left. Like they were freaking ghosts. Amélie's brother, Mathis, had been enticed by the promise of power and wealth. She was sure of it. Money or drugs were the biggest causes for people to live this kind of life. And as far as she'd been aware, he'd needed neither.
He'd never been without. Mathis had lived a comfortable life. So why? Why him? And why did he leave her — the question that haunted her more than she'd ever be willing to admit? Leaving their close-knit family behind to join the ranks of the criminal organization. It had torn their family apart, leaving wounds that had never fully healed.
Amélie's hands clenched around the delicate stem of her flute as she watched Laurent move through the crowd, her eye also catching Leyla as she entered. Another shock flashed across her features. She was aware of the couple, but still...this was unexpected. Her heart raced, a mix of anger, fear, and resentment bubbling up within her. How could her brother have abandoned them for this life? How could he have chosen to be a part of something so vile?
Amélie tore her gaze away, breath catching in her throat. It felt like she couldn't breathe, that all her air was being stolen from her chest. She'd been here so many times, and each time, it made her feel weak. She didn't want to hate anyone, but sometimes it was hard not to. Needing a moment to compose herself and gather her thoughts, she turned on her heel. Stepping away from the crowd until she found herself on a balcony overlooking Haringey.
Not much of a sight, she thought.
The night breeze whispered through her hair, and Amélie closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to steady herself. She could feel her anger and hatred burning within her, a fire that had been fueled by years of pain and betrayal. But she also knew that facing Laurent in her current state would only bring emotions she wasn't sure she was ready to handle and sort through just yet.
Before she even knew what she was doing, her phone rang until a voice broke through her reverie, soft yet firm. "Amélie." and she relaxed fully. Kipper. Because sometimes, every girl just needed their gay best friend.
#reaction ; laurent st. pierre#this is just simply a reaction to her realising he is there.#self para#self paragraph#laurent & amélie#ft. kipper
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@mobscene-starters
Hit after hit after hit.
Laurent, he is down.
Please, for the love of god-
Hearing Lara Rutherford intervene was likely the one and only time she was grateful to hear that woman’s voice. Lisette did not know how often such an intervention took place at these events, but Laurent would have likely killed the man had she not. Perhaps the man means something to her?
Leaving Étienne’s side, the French woman moves to the bar and grabs a tall glass of water. Laurent had sat with her and held her hand for Étienne’s fight with Théo and now their roles had reversed. She wanted to help him, but he was in no such state. Having stopped by very briefly to insure he was getting treatment, Lisette stepped back and allowed the people to work in peace. As much peace as Laurent would allow them.
With a sip of her glass, Lisette lets out a breath and rests her back against the wall. “That man was nearly murdered,” she reflects shaking her head, “How do people find this entertaining,” she shook her head, “God I need this night to be over,”
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“She really tried, didn’t she? But one should really learn, my boy never loses.”
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Who ever said there’s no rainbow without a little bit of rain, should really have died a dismembering death.
How was it that the second time in the night... The second time...
She missed out on watching a person die on the ring. This whole event was made so famous in Launceston, everyone always talked about the brutality and yet?
First it was the French calling their own, now it was Bulgasari from the balcony?
Though in all honesty, they both seemed to have anger issues that needed to be dealt. Were they even in the ring fighting each other, or their fucking thoughts?
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Oliver Parra | 36 | French Organization | Second in Command | TAKEN
Place of Birth: Paris, France.
Current Residence: The Zarana Hills.
Spouse/Partner: Aurélie Parra (wife)
Family: Éliza Parra (daughter, unplayable), Nicolas Parra (son, unplayable)
Face Claim: Ryan Gosling.
Bio Credit: Bekah.
While Oliver’s Parisian pride spearheads his appeal, France had not been particularly kind to his younger self.
Orphaned by negligent parents, Oliver had learned early on that a persistent soul could survive on its own. But, when his job fell through, and he hadn’t the money for his apartment, and homelessness crept onto his back and wouldn’t let go, the Frenchman’s desperation had reached new heights. In something akin to ironic catastrophe, Oliver was introduced to the wonders of heroin at his lowest.
Though the business of cultivating, manufacturing, and distributing drugs for largely profit motivating reasons would become a faculty of Oliver’s greatest interests due to his own familiarity, his early start with drugs did him utterly no favors.
Nothing felt like heroin.
While upper drugs catered to a need of ecstasy or self-confidence, heroin turned Oliver’s frustrated life into a mellow, content amble. His insignificant life became manageable with each hit, and it quickly became his only escape from a destitute cycle. Being an expensive habit, heroin, the Frenchman was easily roped into doing illegal work for a once friend, Claire, to meet his needs. Thus, Oliver’s criminal background started at the bottommost possible standpoint imaginable; in doing the most precarious jobs proper gangsters wouldn’t do.
There came a point, when his addiction in Paris had crept up on him slowly but overwhelmingly, that Oliver stole from his friend. He had been nearly been beaten to death when caught, and was, without difficulty, abandoned to the streets he’d once escaped. It was then and there he realized, addicted to drugs, homeless and out of work, again, that his life was meaningless.
Then François St. Clair found him.
It’s rare for the man to speak of his past, due to its palpable, haunting failures, but it’s no secret that the Frenchman left France for Launceston with a most passionate drug-addiction. In Launceston, he’d even been famous for it. Considering his criminal work hadn’t changed much between Paris and Launceston, Oliver engaged for the St. Clair Family glad that they’d pay for his next hit, and more.
He was an intimidating asset.
Controlled chaos in some respect, Oliver worked repeatedly to make sure he stayed a worthwhile investment – if Nicolas needed him for intimidation, he would be terror inducing. With his violent affinities, and intermittent leadership roles, the Frenchman participated in some of the worst criminal plays for the St. Clair family to date. The murder of a Russian Head’s daughter became a moment of signature prowess. Once a man with nothing, the Frenchman had quickly become a man with something; approval.
Oliver contentedly stepped into new roles for the French Head, his more than satisfactory living as a mobster came to an unexpected, uncomfortable half-measure upon meeting a St. Clair ‘princess’.
Nothing felt like heroin, but Aurélie St. Clair felt better.
With selfishness, in line with a drug addict’s need for immediate gratification, he impolitely pursued – earning himself difficult experiences with certain members of the St. Clair family, and Nicolas himself. She was a crime he was willing to commit.
Becoming a recognized figure in the French Organization was not the Frenchman’s primary goal, but the time-won respect had undeniably driven the man to consider how best to keep the French Organization in positions of power. Their authority over Launceston continued with a heavy price. Instead of the loyalists being killed, himself included, their rivals killed members of the St. Clair family instead.
Oliver watched as each loss dragged their boss, a most feared man, Nicolas St. Clair, deeper and deeper into his hidden disease: Alzheimer’s. Before the disease took him, before any of them knew, the French Head had sat Oliver at his side for a number of days. Like a son with his father, Oliver stayed at the man’s hip and felt like he was re-learning the tools in the shed, embedded in the networking.
While he deserved no more from the man, before he left to wither in the arms of his wife, Nicolas spoke to Oliver about things more important than business. He left demands: quit the drugs, propose to and marry his granddaughter, and lead the illicit drug business.
No man respected, revered, or endeavored to be like Nicolas St. Clair more so than Oliver after that day.
While easier said than done, much to his own shame, Oliver did what was asked of him. In the process of a power change, the Russians in Launceston did the unthinkable; they took her, and killed good men in the process. It would have been effortless for Oliver to have made a trade with the Russians, considering what he could have given in yield, but his best friend bit the bullet, clandestinely, on his behalf.
Oliver hasn’t told anyone, but he will forever believe his inaction in those moments disgraceful to his name, and those relationships.
Launceston, Massachusetts had made Oliver the mobster he was, which made the move to Porto Velho that much more difficult.
In moving, Oliver let go of a vice-gripe on Launceston’s drug scene that was so fucking prodigious there might as well have been needles in the streets. He coveted the idea of murdering every Russian in the name of the St. Clairs; he couldn’t get past the idea of leaving the opportunity of revenge to anyone aside from himself. Worse yet, they were in an alliance with his wife’s favorite Sovrani-Italian.
While his wife had a point about Porto’s house-winning numbers for legal business activities, he wondered if she understood what he would do to her new home-base to take ownership of its drug trade.
After rounds of arguments that tested their new marriage, many he has yet to apologize for, he critically conceded. She was hurting in ways that he couldn’t fix, and hauntingly reminded him that the most important people in her life were gone. He’s considered once, that people were orphaned again and again in their life. That the pain dwindled each time it happened, but his wife stood contradictory to the idea.
They moved. He would fucking deal.
In dramatic fashion, the first diplomatic meet Aurélie had set up with the Rutherford family ended with their men slaughtered - aside from her childhood friend. His friend had died.
It was almost amusing to Oliver, how discreditable the Rutherford reaction had been. It had lacked principle, mostly honor. When they would be on their knees, begging for their city back, the French would remind them of that meeting before releasing the guillotine.
The French knew a thing or two about revolutions, and one was due in Porto Velho.
Andrew Rutherford: Enemy. Oliver assumes Andrew was the one who gave the order to kill their men during the planned diplomatic meeting. The lack of Rutherford civility sent a clear message. There would be no peace, and Oliver intended to deal the man significant blows.
Veronika Auditore: Enemy. Unlike his wife, Oliver can’t see past Veronika’s Sovrani background. He continues to think the relationship between his wife and the woman is a ticking time bomb. The lack of friendliness is mutual, but there isn’t overt hate either. When she becomes almost agreeable, he reminds himself of who her parents are.
Laurent St. Pierre: Best friend. Thinking back on the people they used to be can be a little bitter for either man, especially considering the mischief they got into after a line or two. While they aren’t related, Oliver considers the man his brother. When he’s strikingly annoyed with everyone and everything, Oliver knows that Laurent either feels the same, or knows how to make the irritations disperse – probably a night at Vixen.
Johnathan Parsons: Enemy. It has come to his attention that Johnathan Parsons is not only the man who killed his friends at Aurélie’s intended meeting, but Parsons is also the go-between for the Rutherfords and The Kings. It would be advantageous and entirely satisfying if the man was strangled.
The Cávado Kings: Enemy. There is room for one supplier in Porto. Bearing in mind that the French are known for their finesse in the drug trade, it’s a given that Oliver intends to take that business from them.
Adrian Castillo: Enemy. Men with a lack of loyalty deserve everything coming at them. When Julien or Laure come to him wanting the traitors head on a spike, Oliver will appreciatively step out of their way. Adrian was an exceptional assassin, but he doubts the man will last against two; better yet, old friends.
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Jean Paul Gaultier Reflects on How Cinema Shaped His Career
http://styleveryday.com/2017/08/02/jean-paul-gaultier-reflects-on-how-cinema-shaped-his-career/
Jean Paul Gaultier Reflects on How Cinema Shaped His Career
The French enfant terrible was recently honored with a career achievement award in Italy.
For more than 40 years, Jean Paul Gaultier has been turning the fashion world upside down — and he has no intention of slowing down. Fashion’s original enfant terrible was recently feted at the Ischia Global Film and Music Fest, where he was celebrated for his long career in fashion. Upon accepting his career achievement award, he noted that he wouldn’t have become a designer if it weren’t for cinema.
The Hollywood Reporter sat down with the couture king in Ischia, where he reminisced over his biggest cinematic influences to date: Bridget Bardot and Marlon Brando. He’s been inspired by many film over the years, including The Untouchables, Barbarella,The Rocky Horror Picture Show and Tommy.
It’s no coincidence that the cinema lover went on to design costumes for his favorite directors including Pedro Almodovar, Peter Greenaway, Marc Caro and Jean-Pierre Jeunet. And he famously created the costumes that defined the look and feel of Luc Besson’s The Fifth Element. His role as a costume designer helped land him a spot on the 2012 Cannes jury, a role he’s been itching to repeat for other top fests, if time ever allows. However, with his current schedule of creating two couture shows a year, time is not a luxury he enjoys.
Gaultier has defined countless best-of-red-carpet moments, from Marion Cotillard’s Oscar-winning mermaid moment to Cate Blanchett’s sculpted silk lilac Golden Globes gown. He has created looks for celebrities as diverse as Boy George, George Michael, Lady Gaga, Rihanna and Beyonce, but his favorite collaboration remains his work for Madonna, cone bras and all, a relationship dating back to the red carpet of Desperately Seeking Susan.
THR spoke with Gaultier about how he sees his work as a documentary of the times, and why his upcoming couture show will pay tribute to his original inspiration: the cabaret.
How did cinema originally inspire you to become a fashion designer?
The first thing I saw that shocked me in a good way: I was 9 years old, and they were showing a cabaret premiere on TV — Folies Bergere, which is kind of like the Ziegfeld Follies. What I found beautiful was the costumes. So I sketched them, and I dressed my teddy bear, because I didn’t have a doll, like Folies Bergere, with feathers, outfits and everything. For two years now, I have been preparing my own cabaret runway show, inspired by Folies Bergere. I am very excited to bring it to life.
The other key moment for me was when I was 13, I saw the movie Falbalas, a grand movie from the ’40s by Jacques Becker. It was showing the world of haute couture, the fittings, the muses, these people walking with the lights and the audience looking at it. It was beautiful. And I said, “Oh, I want to do that,” custom fitting, and so on.
And how did this translate to your own work?
Always in my shows I should say I make kind of a cinematography. I try to find a character of the time, of the period, not to take a professional model but maybe a new girl, a girl with character. So I chose them like that. My shows are like a little scene, more like a documentary, showing the reality of the day.
It was in ’76 that I did my first collection. At that time, I was feeling very close to what was happening more in London, not the fashion scene, but the scene of what was happening in music, etc. I remember Farida Khelfa, I remember she was walking down the runway chewing gum. The models asked me how they should walk and I said, “Don’t walk like a model. Just be yourself.” And the reaction at the time was, “Oh, my God — they don’t even know how to walk!” They were very of the time, very much strong girls.
In my fourth show, I asked the queen of French punk, Edwige Belmore, to sing in playback “My Way,” like Sid Vicious. And someone came up to me after the show and said, “But you will never sell clothes if you do things like that.” And I didn’t care. I was trying to do clothes that were wearable with the feeling of the time without analyzing it, because I was surrounded by girls that were inspiring me.
You’re known for so many iconic pieces, from male skirts to cone bras. Why don’t we see so many statement pieces in fashion today?
I think because they want to sell. I was lucky because I was on my own. I started with nothing, so I didn’t have somebody telling me do this, do that. I was free. I love to be free, which is why I make my shows how I want. And now you see there is a movement for men to wear skirts in the U.K.
But I sold a lot of clothes, in the ‘80s and ‘90s, but doing it my way. I think there are other designers who earn a lot of money, but they are employees. Fashion is a moment. The fact that I am still in it is kind of a miracle. I have no complaints.
Do you think your fashion has helped people feel more comfortable to be themselves?
I hope so. I don’t know if it did, but even if it did for one person, I am very happy. I should say that I was lucky, because my grandmother made me accept myself. And she did in a very natural way, so I only realized she was helping me only 20, 30 years after. I didn’t realize it, but she was doing things that let me do and express myself completely.
Also another thing, when I started in fashion I knew that, for example, [Pierre] Berge was with Yves St. Laurent, and so when I went into fashion I thought that since I was like them, maybe I would be accepted. I felt it was natural. So I was lucky.
Some people sometimes tell me that I never get to the demonstrations, like the gay demonstrations, but I say yes, when I do my show, I show it. I don’t make a show for gays, no — I make a show for a lot of people, different people. And what I show is different kinds of people, men, women, different sexualities, different religions, it’s all that.
Who has been your favorite person to dress?
Each time the story is personal, so each time for me it is good. But with Madonna it was different, because we were exactly the same. It was truly incredible. She was a little like the girl I was inspired by when I started, at the same time masculine and feminine, always fighting like that, but in a soft way, and nice way, and charming way. It was a fabulous experience.
In the ’80s, she was at that time buying her own clothes. Now they don’t do that anymore. So she had two of my dresses in ’85 for the Desperately Seeking Susan premiere, one for the afternoon and one for the evening, the dress with the suspenders. One time she had done a copy of mine, in black satin with pom-poms. I saw her and I didn’t say, “Don’t copy my dress,” but I said, “If you want it, I can do it for you.”
There was only one look I created for her that she didn’t take. It was inspired by And God Created Woman, that scene where Bridget Bardot is on the beach, very wet, very sexy in a shirt dress. From that I was thinking Madonna, but like a virgin, the real Virgin Mary with a veil, in the shower. She loved the idea, but they said be careful. The contract with Pepsi-Cola was almost canceled because she did the video and it would have been too much.
Do you think it’s important in your work to not take yourself too seriously?
I think it’s important in life. Honestly, I accept only the projects where I feel I will have fun.
#Career #Cinema #Gaultier #Jean #Paul #Reflects #Shaped
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