12 July 2011 @ 03:08 am
King For A Day, part 10/?  
Title: King For A Day, part 10/?
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Shosanna/Fredrick, James Mayhew, Helga Zoller, mentions of the Zoller sisters.
Rating: R
Word count: 8,504
Summary: Together, Shosanna and Fredrick make it to Munich. Their lives are just beginning.
Notes: With the direction the story is taking (and for the directions it will take), I have created an information/character post to accompany KFAD: [clicky-clicky]

The story so far: | information/cast post | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 |

The remainder of that night was lost to them.

The two rested, bodies nestled into one another; but it never lasted long, as they were far too absorbed with each other.

Shosanna and Fredrick spoke more, of simple things. Things, that, perhaps in the grander scheme of the world, did not matter much, but it mattered to them. It brought them comfort and consolation in the face of all that awaited the two.

Her face nuzzling his neck, Shosanna spoke until her voice trailed off to nothing and sleep claimed her.

Fredrick's voice came broken and rough as he murmured her name. It was selfish of him, he knew, but his want - his need - for her overcame all else. The sound of his voice was enough to pull Shosanna back into consciousness.

She rolled Fredrick onto his back, and stretching her body out over his, the two made love once more for a very long while. They moved together in a smooth, unhurried rhythm until, tremors overtaking them both, they found their release with one another.

Arms wrapped tight around her, Fredrick did not yet want to let go of Shosanna; did not yet want to lose the press of her flesh against his. It was all too perfect, too beautiful when they made love.

Fredrick looked up into her green eyes. They appeared darker now, half-lidded with sleep and infatuation. And there, near her left eye, her scar.

Her scar.

It was a fleck upon her otherwise perfect skin. It betrayed her in a way, revealing that part of herself, her story, which she fought so hard to conceal. Fredrick had noticed it when the two had first met, but he never could have imagined its violent origins.

His mind wandered; back to the night the war ended.

Surely, in the projection booth, Shosanna had felt as he did; trapped in that bell tower. But whereas Fredrick had a home with a family to return to, Shosanna did not. She had nothing left, not even her name, which had been ripped away from her. She had been so completely willing to destroy herself, to end the war and to reclaim all that was rightfully hers.

And he, Fredrick Zoller, a foolish young boy, was unaware of it all. All he knew was that he loved Emmanuelle Mimieux.

Emmanuelle Mimieux, who was beautiful and special, though he couldn't place why.

Emmanuelle Mimieux, who was Shosanna Dreyfus.

If only he, Fredrick Zoller, German War Hero, had known.

Fredrick Zoller, who, in his mad desperation for Emmanuelle Mimieux to understand him, hurt her. She could have killed him. But she, Shosanna Dreyfus, did not.

Throughout it all, she had more than ample opportunity to leave him, to turn him away.

Yet she did not.

Throughout it all, Shosanna was with him. She loved him.

Here, now, in their room, in this bed, Shosanna held tight to Fredrick just as he held her. With her lips against his neck, her breath was a soft whisper against his pulse,

"Rest, Fredrick, rest."

The sky passing by their window now a light gray, Fredrick closed his eyes.



She was swathed in it.

It was the color of the fever in her blood; oppressive and hot, which consumed her.

It was the color of her blood; warm and rich, that poured from her abdomen.

It was the color of the flames; bright and burning, which rose to meet her.

It was the color that defined her madness.


Sprawled on the floor, her body ached. Eyes squeezed shut, she turned her head in his direction, to face him. She had to confront the sight of him.

She opened her eyes.

There, he lay where he had fallen; unmoving.

She could have wept, if she had the fortitude to do so. But even in her weakened state, she called out to him, her voice rising above the destruction that surrounded them.


He did not stir.

Nearly far too much for her to bear, she still persisted. Throat dry, she roughly swallowed and brought herself to try again,


He gave no response.

Desperately, Shosanna gathered the entire strength of her broken body, bringing herself to roll over onto her stomach. It was a quick, forceful motion; the sickening, wet slap of her bloodied torso against the hard wood floor rang out, both causing her to grimace and struggle for breath.

Reaching Fredrick would be as perilous as scaling the heights of Piz Palü, it seemed, but it had to be done. Time was not on their side.

Gritting her teeth and tightening her body, she cajoled and pleaded with her muscles and tendons into cooperation. Every fiber throbbed, every cell screamed as she clawed and scratched her red nails into the floorboards, pulling and dragging herself to him, leaving a trail of red behind in her wake.

Though she was wracked with excruciating pain and a sob caught in her throat, she could not stop; she willed herself toward Fredrick, her absolute desire and need to be near him providing her momentum.

Joining his side, she managed to raise a hand to his cheek, gently touching his face.

He was unresponsive. Fredrick was dead.

The fire roared around them, the flames having eaten away everything; everything which she had so willingly sacrificed.

She had nothing left.

Shosanna was well and truly alone.

The room fast filling with dark smoke, she clung to him. She touched and kissed him wherever she could; her lips smearing red on his uniform, over his chest full of medals, along the length of his neck, over his jawline, and to his face. Reaching his mouth, she covered it with her own, hard and bruising.

Though her lungs now burned and her body was rife with agony, Shosanna wept; openly and bitterly.

She wept for her family.

She wept for Ada.

She wept for Marcel.

She wept for Emmanuelle.

She wept for Fredrick.

She wept for herself.

Bleary-eyed, she could no longer see Fredrick's features through the haze and her tears. Features which she had come to memorize and know so well in their fleeting time together; features of the only person who had been able to break through her self-imposed barriers to reach the tenderest parts of her.

And so, she held tight to him.

There was never anything more than the two of them.


Shosanna awoke wide-eyed in the pale light of the morning.

Panicked, she rolled onto her side in a near violent jerk. There beside her lay Fredrick, sleeping soundly; his face serene.

She had to be certain.

She watched him; watched as he slept, her eyes fixed on the rise and fall of his bare chest.

The sky outside above them now brightened as onward, they continued towards Munich.

Shosanna could not help but smile.

Needing to feel the strong pulse of his body coursing through him, she curled herself into Fredrick, the rhythmic beating of his heart lulling her back to sleep.


It was mid morning when Fredrick awoke.

Shosanna laid half-way on top of him with her face buried in the crook of his neck, her breath soft and warm against his pulse. Along with that, her hand was palm flat on his chest near his heart, and her leg was hitched up and draped over his thighs. Never before had Fredrick felt so comfortable.

Lying in bed with the woman he loved and on a train headed for home, he was contented, even in the face of the previous night's turmoil.

Soon enough, the two would find themselves in Munich; with his family.

Fredrick thought of Helga; of how she would react to the sight of the German War Hero, back from the dead with the woman responsible for the end of the war in tow. Of course, Helga would see him as he was: her baby brother. She would, above all, be overjoyed to see that he did not in fact perish in a theater in Paris, France.

And that she would - he knew with complete certainty - easily welcome Shosanna into the lives of the Zoller family.

That would be how Helga Zoller would come to know Shosanna; Shosanna Dreyfus, not Emmanuelle Mimieux. Never again would Shosanna have to live under a pseudonym. Never again would she have to hide her identity, her heritage.

No matter what, Helga and the rest of the Zoller sisters would love and accept Shosanna - they had to - because they were his family and because he loved her so.

He smiled, wide and open.

He finally felt a certain degree of peace.

He also felt as Shosanna's body shifted against him with her smooth, silken thigh rubbing against his own; so much so that he found himself terribly aroused.

Sucking in a breath, Fredrick wriggled beneath her with an anxiousness. She moved again; her knee gently, ever-so-lightly brushing against his arousal. Releasing the breath in frustration, he looked to the ceiling.

As Fredrick contemplated how to best handle the situation, he could feel Shosanna move once more as she now nuzzled his neck; could feel as her lips formed into a smile against his throat.


Fredrick stood by the bedside, his fingers fumbling with the buttons of his dress shirt. It was one given to him by Edwige, having previously belonged to her brother. White and long sleeved, it was well tailored with small, polished buttons; buttons which were posing a problem for him.

Dressed in a pale silk robe that belted tightly at the waist, Shosanna was sifting through their suitcase, picking out something to wear. It was simple, mundane even - the daily ritual of waking up and getting ready for the day ahead. However, as Fredrick watched Shosanna lay her clothes out on the bed - undergarments, a slip, and a golden, scoop-neck dress - he realized it was a day-to-day ritual that they would continue to share together; from day-to-day to year after year.

Casually, Shosanna tugged at the belt of her robe, pulling the knot loose. Shrugging off the garment, she let it fall into a heap on the floor, revealing her bare body. Bathed in sunlight as it poured through the window, she was golden and resplendent. Fredrick stilled his manic fingers and watched her; his eyes traveling over her like a man discovering a treasure.

He smiled.

In that moment, a thrill coursed through Fredrick. It went beyond her nude form - though the sight of which never failed to stir him - to something far more vast. With a soft sigh, he finished his task, tucking the shirttails into his finely pleated slacks.

Shosanna, taking notice of her captive audience, turned to Fredrick, her eyes meeting his. There was a seriousness, a tension, etched in his features; for the swiftest of moments, she felt vulnerable, exposed. Shosanna was cautious, expressionless. It made him think of her photograph in her forged papers; not of Rachel Schwarzbaum, but of Emmanuelle Mimieux. Fredrick suddenly felt awkward and imperiled.

The two were silent for a while, holding each other's attention without word or movement. It was as if time stood still. Fredrick could hear the footsteps of another passenger making their way down the hallway, could hear a muffled conversation through the wall in the room next to them. Thinking of the previous night's activities, which carried over into that morning, he almost smirked, knowing that if it were just a few days earlier before his relationship with Shosanna had grown into what it was, he probably would have fretted over what others would have thought, had they heard them.

Even still, surrounded by the goings-on and lives of others, Shosanna remained his sole focus. There was something in the way she looked at Fredrick. It was always there, a kind of intuitiveness; she was able to trace the genealogy of his feelings and thoughts.

The corners of her mouth turning up, Shosanna stepped forward, bringing herself close to him. Carefully, she laid a hand upon his chest, feeling the rise and fall of it as Fredrick breathed and the beating of his heart against the flat of her palm. Then, tilting her head up, she lightly touched her lips to his, kissing him. Tentatively, Fredrick brought his hands to rest on her hips, holding her to him. Shosanna smiled against his mouth, and in response, Fredrick very slightly tightened his grip on her, giving a gentle squeeze.

There was a desire present between the two, but it was fueled by something far more than just a physical need.

Fredrick could feel the immense thrumming of Shosanna's heart through her chest against his own. He slid his hand from her hip to her lower back, and there, it settled, flattening against her flesh with his fingers fanning out and pressing Shosanna to him.

Never before had they felt so safe; their only fear was that of interruption. Neither could feign confusion with what was felt, yet unsaid between them. Neither could deny how far they both had come, nor could they ignore how the difficulty of their connection had increased its ferocity; how alive with courage and fervor it was.

What the two felt within that moment with one another was the center of life; the very core of all feeling and thought. There was coincidence and meaning in all that surrounded them, both a terrifying complexity and simplicity, both agony and delight. Nothing went unnoticed.

Shosanna's mouth against Fredrick's was now not so much a kiss, as it was an indeterminate crush. The pulse of her only intensified; her heart within her chest like a caged bird. It would not recede, nor would it quiet down. His own heart racing, Fredrick just held her.


It was early afternoon when their train arrived in Munich.

Fredrick worked to pack their suitcase and tend to some last minute straightening of their room as Shosanna checked with the train car attendant to collect their identification papers. With his Luger tucked away, cap pulled down low, and luggage in hand, he was ready to leave as soon as she returned to their room. Their affairs in order, the two of them, as Ernst and Rachel Schwarzbaum, were prepared to face the next stage of their lives together.

It was, however, slow going.

The train station was bustling with both civilians and military personnel alike. No one, whether boarding or departing, was going anywhere without having their papers scrutinized under a watchful pair of eyes first. Shosanna, taking the lead, clutched Fredrick's hand in her own. Not one to let down her guard, she surveyed the crowds from the train car windows as best she could. Noting the drab green and tan uniforms mixed in with the rest of the average citizens, she was able to determine that Munich, just as Edwige had clued them earlier at the inn, was occupied by American forces. It was also detectable that there were some English among them; the Allied forces were utilizing as many of their men as possible.

The tension in his body was now evident as Fredrick's grip on Shosanna's hand was becoming increasingly tighter and his palm was growing slick with sweat. Outwardly, he appeared calm, but inwardly, his nerves were fraying. It was of total importance that they get off that train, lest he entirely unravel. In order to do so, Fredrick had to keep his cool. In a show of solidarity and in an effort to placate him, Shosanna rubbed the pad of her thumb over the skin on the back of his hand in slow, lazy circles. Though the strength of his hand over hers did not lessen any, the action worked to bring them both a small measure of comfort.

When their turn finally came, the two were immediately accosted - though rather politely - by a young soldier the moment they stepped off the train. Standing tall and proud, the soldier gave them a salute and an introduction,

"Private James Mayhew, at your service."

Judging by his khaki attire and heavily accented, albeit fluent German, he was English. Red-haired and fair-skinned with a face full of freckles, it was hard for Shosanna to not notice how out of place James looked; he couldn't possibly have been any older than either she or Fredrick.

Wanting to make their ordeal as pleasant as he could, the soldier smiled widely as he looked over their papers. Shosanna and Fredrick, maintaining their composure, remained blank-faced. Reading their names, his bright expression sobered. His eyes meeting theirs, James gave them a meaningful look, followed by a solemn,

"I am sorry."

Fredrick gave Shosanna a glance, as certainly, the soldier's words carried more meaning and weight for her sake rather than his own. She was unflinching, retaining her stoicism. Turning back to the soldier, Fredrick accepted it with a simple nod of his head. It was perhaps more out of protocol than out of personal curiosity, but James persisted with more questions.

"What brings the two of you back to Munich?"

Fredrick stammered. As a German, speaking the language to a non-native speaker in his own country, the reason for his presence should've been obvious. The soldier was insistent, pressing on,

"Herr Schwarzbaum, you yourself are German. But your wife, Frau Schwarzbaum, was born in Paris, France, as indicated on her papers. As you both have stepped off of the train from Paris - and bearing in mind your heritage - I was wondering, what brings you back here to Munich?"

Fredrick was noticeably perplexed by such invasive questioning, and watching their exchange, Shosanna turned to him for clarification. Given the seriousness of their situation, it had all but nearly slipped from Fredrick's mind that she did not understand German.

"He wants to know why we've returned to Munich," Fredrick informed her.

James, keeping a steady eye on them both, took into account how Fredrick spoke to Shosanna in French. His careful observance of them both did not pass by without regard. But before he or Fredrick could say anything more, Shosanna cut in, speaking directly to the soldier; whether he could make sense of her words or not was no longer a matter for her. The emotion that colored her voice - which previously would've been to her peril - now served to save her and Fredrick.

"There was no place for my husband here during the war, and certainly not for myself, either. Oui, the same held true in France, but the odds there were better in our favor. But now, this is where he wants to be, and I am to be with him."

James, now flustered, took on an apologetic tone in her language,

"It is not my intent to put either of you at unease, it is just that… we cannot afford to not be too careful."

Shosanna was steadfast with her words. All that she had survived, all that she had felt had risen to the surface of her voice,

"I know how it is to be careful."

Chastened, the soldier handed the two their papers back. Not a word more passed between them.


Shosanna and Fredrick were silent for the duration of their trek through the train station. Upon entering the open city, she spoke quietly, her eyes directed ahead.

"Forgive me, but I've had my fill of uniforms."

Saying nothing, Fredrick reached for Shosanna's hand and took it into his own, their fingers intertwining.


With Fredrick taking the lead, he navigated the two of them through as much of Munich as they could cover by foot on their journey to Das Kino Haus. Along the way, he pointed out all the familiar sights to her. Though it was all foreign to Shosanna, she was nonetheless beguiled with Fredrick's seemingly infinite joy. She was certain that if he were able to, he'd spend the rest of the day showing her every corner of Munich; it was in the way his features lit up with recollection and the lilt in his voice as he spoke. In spite of it all, this was his city and he was coming home.

The bookshop Elsa had worked in still stood, prompting Fredrick to tell Shosanna of how his second oldest sister now lived in Barcelona with her lover, a painter.

"Elsa really fell in love with Spain. After she met Teresita, that was it. There was no way she was returning to Munich."

Shosanna found such particulars nearly jolting; she held no doubt that such a detail went unmentioned to Goebbels. Coupled with all she had come to know of Fredrick and his family so far, it seemed uncharacteristic for a German War Hero to come from such unconventional stock. The differences between the Fredrick depicted on screen and the Fredrick she knew still shouldn't have astounded her, but they did.

It was also by Fredrick's estimation that the elderly Frau Vogt most likely had passed on in the years he was away. His voice hushed at that; away. But Fredrick did not openly dwell upon it. Instead, he cleared his throat and turned his attention to a quaint little candy shop.

A smile spread across his face.

"My sister Annaleisa used to tease me as a child that if I didn't stop buying sweets from there, that'd I grow up to be fat and toothless."

Shosanna, finding much amusement in his story, laughed, and as she laughed, Fredrick's smile widened.

"Yet, she is the one who grew up with a love of baking. I'd have told her the same, but I couldn't. That'd have been too easy."

He then paused, his eyes looking ahead as his mind wandered to thoughts of his sister. Shosanna watched Fredrick; she knew that there was more he wanted to say.

"Annaleisa lives in Berlin, now. She's married to a poet named Max. They reckon themselves to be Socialists."

He turned his face to her, and giving a shrug, Fredrick's smile returned.

"I'm not the only one of us to have gone away from home."

Shosanna, now, too, smiled.

They had both grown quiet, but not uncomfortably so; for Fredrick, just to be back in Munich with Shosanna was more than enough.

More and more, from the cafe in Paris, to their time together at Le Rossignol and on the train, Fredrick was opening up to her and welcoming her into his life. He wanted Shosanna; well and truly wanted to be with her. That was never a question for Fredrick. Now, more than ever, she could feel that want. And, as the two continued through the streets of Munich, hand in hand toward their destination, Shosanna knew that she wanted the same.


There it stood, Das Kino Haus. And there, before it, were Shosanna and Fredrick. As they neared it, he quickened his pace, dragging her along behind him. Seeing the theater which he spoke of so fondly at long last, she now understood its importance. Unlike the sleek modernity once held by Le Gamaar, Das Kino Haus wore its history proudly and openly in its stone and mortar construction. Astonishingly breath-taking, it was intensely beautiful and other-worldly in a way. But whereas Shosanna completely splendored in its grandiosity, Fredrick, she could see, found within its structure a comfort, a safety. For him, much like Le Gamaar was for her, Das Kino Haus was his shelter, his escape from the world; this was where he belonged.

Shosanna looked on as Fredrick's eyes drifted to the marquee. As he read over it, his brow furrowed.

"It says the theater is temporarily closed."

Mouth pursed, Fredrick looked away from her. For as alive as he was, his family was still yet unaware. In their minds, Fredrick Zoller was dead. He roughly swallowed and managed to speak, though it was more of an aloud thought than it was a direct statement. There was a distance in his voice.

"I had forgotten."

Fredrick took a moment more of silence. However discomforted he had felt, it seemed to have passed as he then raised his face; surreptitiously, he looked about them, taking mental stock of their surroundings. Shosanna waited, watching as he mentally processed all he had taken in. Fredrick said nothing, but she could tell he was plotting something.

Her hand still in his, he led Shosanna away from Das Kino Haus, ducking into an alleyway. Silent though thoroughly startled, she complied. Easily, she matched his purposeful, brisk pace as the two cut a path back behind the storefronts leading to the back entrance of the theater.

Shosanna watched him with a cool expectancy. Whatever trick he had up his sleeve, now, she surmised, was the time to deliver. No one, however, was more aware of this than Fredrick. One thing Shosanna had come to learn quickly about him was that he was far more clever than he let on; that side of him was, like so much else about him, something that only she was privy to.

He ran his fingertips over the wall of the theater, until coming upon a wedge of loose stone. With precision, Fredrick plucked it from its place, revealing a copper key. He reached for it, taking it in hand as he put the stone back. He smiled, pleased with his find.

"It was Elsa's," Fredrick elaborated as he went to work unlocking the backdoor, "As she spent less and less time here and more and more in the bookshop, Gerda kept the key hidden here."

The door, large and dense, now budged and with a bit of force, he pulled it open, allowing for Shosanna to enter first.

"Gerda is awfully forgetful of things if they aren't boys or clothes or whatever is currently catching her fancy, you see," He went on, following closely behind her, "And, it seems, that hasn't changed."

It was perhaps out of habit from working in a own theater for the previous four years, but Shosanna was able to hunt out the light switch to the right of her, and illuminate the back room with soft, yellow lighting. Fredrick closed and locked the door before joining her at her side as she looked around her. The room was used for storage: rolled up posters and plush, unused furniture, marquee signs, letters and other decorations; all were organized and covered in a fine layer of dust, all awaiting the moment to fulfill their purpose.

Shosanna moved through it all with careful strides, but Fredrick flitted about, his eyes and hands on anything and everything that piqued his interest. As he became occupied with a Greta Garbo poster, Shosanna glimpsed, in the furthest corner of the room, a bit of a marquee billboard. Thoroughly intrigued, she found herself drawn to it. Obscured by rolled up posters and other memorabilia, Shosanna could make out part of an olive green uniform as she approached it.

She knelt in front of it and moving aside the posters and other obstructions, she brought herself face-to-face with the stoic visage of Fredrick Zoller. Taken aback, she scrambled to her feet, and froze in place where she stood. Hearing her, Fredrick looked up from the distraction of Garbo to find Shosanna standing before himself, smartly dressed in his uniform and looking out toward the horizon of a new world once promised by a tyrannical regime.

It was both at once surreal and disarming. There was silence in the room as Fredrick contemplated just what he was seeing.

Shosanna blinked at the sight of it, astonished. She wondered about Fredrick, as to how he must've felt, having returned to Munich and his family's theater only to be confronted by the image of himself as he was portrayed in Goebbels' spectacle. She looked to him; his expression was one of complete concentration, his brows stitched together and his mouth set in a thin line.

Fredrick turned his head to face her, their eyes meeting. Body tensing, Shosanna anticipated his reaction.

He gave a slow, crooked smile.

"I told you it was an eyesore."

Though she supposed she expected something different, something more from him, it was definite that after having come this far, Fredrick was not to be deterred. And as he held the door leading out to the lobby open for her, neither was she.


"My father had it built for my mum. He oversaw every detail."

Shosanna stood in amazement. Brightly lit and composed of polished marble floors with smooth stone pillars and walls, Das Kino Haus resembled more of a cathedral than a theater; it was both decadent and reverential. On the walls hung framed posters for all manner of film, from Auf Wiedersehen Doesn't Mean Goodbye starring Bridget von Hammersmark, F.W. Murnau's Faust, to Disney's Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.

As she wandered the expanse of the lobby, taking it all in, Fredrick stood by and watched her. He watched her with wonder, with love; he recalled how he had first seen her in the lobby of Le Gamaar and all those following moments after, of how he fell under the total compliance of his heart's most desperate desires. It was when he had taken his first steps that diverted far from the pathway that had been determined for him. It was when he had loved, and he loved so deeply. It was because of Shosanna that he was able to find comfort in a foreign country; she brought him solace, she brought him home.

If only either had known then what would become of them now.

Fredrick looked on as Shosanna reached out to run her hand along a pillar, as she stood admiring a poster for The Golem with her hands clasped behind her back, and as her eyes, scanning every detail, would settle back onto him. His arms crossed over his chest, Fredrick stood with his head cocked to the side. His forelocks had fallen into his face as he had since removed the cap, allowing for Shosanna to better see his eyes, which were full of affection and humor. His mouth was set in a slight, lop-sided grin.

Neither spoke; rather, words were unnecessary as the two faced one another, eyes locked.

Shosanna went to him, the click of the soles of her shoes upon the floor echoing throughout the theater. As she closed the space between them, Fredrick raised his hand up to cup the side of her face; her cheek curved as she smiled, fitting so well against his palm. Then, leaning into her, Fredrick bowed his head and brought his mouth down to hers, kissing her. The contact was light, soft, and brief. He trailed his fingertips over her cheekbone and further down, to her jawline; just as Shosanna closed her eyes, just as she allowed herself to ease into his touch, he stopped, pulling back from her.

Grinning widely, Fredrick turned away, silently indicating for her to follow. Playfully rolling her eyes in response, she went along with him.

She always would.


Shosanna had first thought that Fredrick was to lead her up the grandiose staircase to the projection booth. Instead, he brought her to a pair of double-doors at the other side of the lobby, which led them into the theater auditorium.

It was gorgeous. Large and spacious, with a greater capacity than Le Gamaar, it was more than she could have ever expected. The seating was luxurious, complete with a magnificent balcony. However, it was the film screen that captured Shosanna's attention.

Positioned above a small stage and veiled in red velvet, it was a spectacle unto itself. Imposingly enormous, its width spanned nearly that of the entire wall, and centered directly above it hung the comedy-drama mask.

"My mum lived for the stage."

Fredrick's voice was faraway, wistful. As softly as he spoke, his words still carried through, filling the auditorium. Shosanna turned to look over her shoulder at him. He stood by the doorway, watching her.

"After meeting my father and settling down, she found less and less time for it," Fredrick expounded, "And by then, she compensated for that by visiting a little movie house. Most of the other actors she knew were starting to panic; they feared the loss of their profession, their art form."

He shook his head bemusedly at the thought.

"But not my mum. She embraced film. She loved it, she loved the escape it provided."

With a small smile, Fredrick continued.

"They then moved to Munich. She hated leaving that little theater behind. My father wanted to do this for her."

Shosanna raised her face back to the screen, now gazing upon it with a new awe. These were things - important things - she could tell, that he did not share with anyone else outside of his family. Fredrick went briefly silent before proceeding on a melancholic note,

"It became even more important to us that we keep Das Kino Haus going after she passed away. We all grew up here; as soon as we were able to, we all learned how to run the projector along with every other little detail. This place is a part of us, as it was a part of her."

There was a resonance there in his words; of sadness, of loss. But, there was something more to it: an encompassing love.

Das Kino Haus was a monument to love, for love. For Shosanna, it brought to mind Le Gamaar, Ada Mimieux and Marcel; of how Fredrick's parents, like she and him, had taken a risk their hearts had urged upon them. That, for all the German War Hero and the Jewish Girl had been through in order to make it this far, they were not alone. That encompassing love was something they had all shared, and if there was anything that had truly set Shosanna and Fredrick apart, it was their willfulness to take that love beyond set boundaries and sensible limits; their love, which had before seemed so impossible, was now a reality - their reality.

Their love - their reality - was endless.

With her eyes transfixed by the film screen, Shosanna could feel the rise of emotion within her as it manifested itself as a hitched breath within her throat, threatening to spill from her, be it in tears or elation. But just as she was certain she was to be overpowered by all that she felt, Shosanna stilled; the lights in the auditorium dimmed and the red velvet parted to reveal, on screen, Harold Lloyd as the Boy, making the precarious climb up the storefront in Safety Last. Dazed, she spun around on her heel, to find that Fredrick was not there. But Shosanna was not entirely alone, as she craned her neck to see him at the window of the projection booth, smiling down at her.


The projection booth of Das Kino Haus was roomier than the one Shosanna worked in at Le Gamaar. Though indeed, much like her own, it was homey: there were neatly stacked tins of film and film magazines on the floor, posters and other little notes tacked up on the walls, and in the far left corner was a rather comfortable-looking pile of pillows for the projectionist who had tired of a night's particular showing.

She and Fredrick, in all of their training, remained by the projector, standing side-by-side. Her eyes focused on screen as the Boy was now dangling from the department store building clock-face. Fredrick's interest was not so much on Harold Lloyd's antics as it was on her; watching as she watched the film. Even in the darkness, Shosanna could not be obscured.

"The film was left in the projector," Fredrick quietly explained, “My mum loved Harold Lloyd, as does Helga."

Shosanna turned to him; his eyes were averted to the floor. There was no need for him to say anything further, as it was apparent that though Helga had closed the theater, she was spending time there to cope with her grief over the perceived loss of her brother. To no one specifically, Fredrick then nodded and looked away into the soft, formless dark of the projection booth. Without forethought, Shosanna stepped forward, removing all distance between them and reached out to him, laying her hand upon his cheek. As she touched Fredrick, he touched her, covering her hand with his own.

She watched Fredrick as he watched her; the play of light and shadows upon his features and the ardor she found there. There was an intensity and a fearlessness in his gaze, an unconditional earnestness which would have unnerved her, if not for the fact that the energy of their connection was so overpowering.

It was then that she had thought of the two of them in the projection booth that night and how, in the pitch blackness, he had sought her out in anguish. It was the unbearable frustration, loneliness, and incompleteness between them. The parallels between that night and that moment were not lost on Shosanna, and as Fredrick's eyes searched hers, she knew that he was aware of it, too; that all the two had been able to give of themselves to the other now, neither had been able to give then.

Though there was a warmth and familiarity found between them, all else was far too strange, far too unexpected. There was still more yet that they had to overcome; to share and to feel with each other. But here, now, the two had come far enough with one another - far enough to know just where they stood and what they wanted.

Fredrick removed his hand from hers and using the force of his body, he brought them both to the wall of the projection booth beside the room's entrance, pinning Shosanna against it. His strength was intimidating to her on some levels, but oddly alluring on others. With his eyes looking to her with such a ferociousness and his mouth poised above hers, Shosanna looked up at Fredrick, unable to collect her thoughts. Without pause, he inclined his head to hers, his lips closing over her own with an urgency and a hunger. Shosanna closed her eyes, relaxing into him; if not for his body against hers, she was certain she would sink beneath him. Taking her hand, she brought it lightly to his chest, feeling the hammering of his heart with her fingertips. As if to test Fredrick, she pressed her palm to him, feeling his solidity.

A sound catching in his throat, Fredrick broke the kiss. Pulling back from her, he left Shosanna wide-eyed and tremulous, her lips wet. Reaching up, he caught her face between his palms with surprising gentleness. Fredrick watched her with fascination, his mouth forming into a faint smile and his eyes welling up with an unnameable emotion. His voice was hushed in reverence,

"Du bist zu schön."

Within his effortless declaration, Shosanna found a poignancy. All that Fredrick wanted had always been so straightforward, so resolute: Shosanna. He wanted her. Shosanna knew that he always would; Fredrick would never tire of demonstrating his want and need of her. With Shosanna, came the promise of stability, of normalcy. Fredrick had been, she supposed, naive in his desire for her; contented with the simple notion that if the two of them were able to be together, then it would all fall in line. But he learned - and he learned quickly - just how complicated the fulfillment of that desire could be.

All that there was between Fredrick and Shosanna culminated that night in the projection booth; the fire, the war's end, their death and rebirth. It was the traumas of their pasts and the tenuous precariousness of their future. It was their link; all that they had and all that they were. Natural. Inevitable. Never had that felt more true than now, here in Munich, within the projection booth of his family's theater at this point in their lives when the two needed walls more than ever before.

There was more, perhaps, that he wanted to tell her, but the words were lost in the press of his mouth to hers as he slid his tongue deeply inside. There was no cautiousness now as Fredrick moved his hands down from her face and to her body as a means to anchor himself to her as the fierceness of their union increased. For all of the uncertainty and doubt the two faced, there was no questioning what was held between them. In this moment, Fredrick was giving and taking all he could of Shosanna and she was reciprocating, surrendering; responding to his every touch, his every breath.

She felt as his strong fingers skimmed lightly down the front of her dress, seeking the shape of her small, rounded breasts. He cradled the weight of them in his palms, giving a soft squeeze. He then ran his thumbs over her nipples, bringing them to hardened points, eliciting a shiver from her and a rough sound of approval from him. Her receptiveness only encouraged him more. Fredrick was unrelenting as he continued, trailing heat over Shosanna's body as his hands glided along the inward curves of her waist and further down, kneading over the contours of her hips.

As he roamed his hands over the shape and plane of her body, Fredrick groaned and instinctually, he pushed his hips up against her. Shosanna felt his hands slide heavily behind her, up and over her back and down again, settling on her ass. He then used the intimate grip to urge her against his thighs. She could feel the power and readiness of his body; it was uncontrollable and it was consuming them. Shosanna trembled against him, causing Fredrick to break the kiss and mutter a swear in German against her mouth. He didn't release her; instead, he moved a hand to rest at the small of her back and brought the other up to the side of her face.

There was a satisfaction held within his eyes; a flicker of something that made Shosanna draw in a breath. There was no apprehension, only an unexpected anticipation. Fredrick watched her a moment longer, as if debating his next move. A ghost of a smile played upon his lips as delicately, he stroked his hand over her cheek, brushing the pad of his thumb over her scar. Her eyes fluttering shut, Shosanna released her breath in a ragged exhale, her breasts moving against his chest. Fredrick's voice was a whisper - more words she couldn't comprehend - as he then lowered his head to her neck. Her thoughts were now chaotic, feeling as his mouth, warm and demanding, journeyed over the arc of her throat. Shosanna could feel the pulse of him, of his body; the sheer steadiness of it. Her breathing having grown rough now, she gave a muted cry.

Fredrick's mouth now hovered just above Shosanna's parted lips. Eyes opening, she looked up at him. There was something challenging in his stare; something both at once formidable and thoughtful. He tightened his hold around her, pushing hard against her. Shosanna moaned as she felt the evidence of his arousal, knowing that Fredrick wanted her to be conscious of it. He was harder, harder than he had been a moment before. She quivered beneath him, her body arching into his. Fredrick's hand moved from the side of her face to soothe the back of her neck as he held Shosanna with gentle firmness against his mouth, the slick of his tongue once more sliding over hers; the kiss was no less enthralling or forceful than it had been the first time.

It was within his demonstration of his supreme need for her that Fredrick overwhelmed and claimed her as if by right, the solid warmth of him enveloping her. Though it was certainly not the first time he had held her, it was now something more; his body cloaking hers, his heart against her own. The sensation was captivating. Shosanna could feel it pulsing through her now, and Fredrick undoubtedly sensed it, as he gave a low moan.

The film had ended moments ago, as the two became engulfed with each other. Everything was quiet save for the murmur of their straining bodies; heavy and thick, it weighed down upon them. Both knew that here, in the dark confines of the projection booth, the two could give of one another all that they could not that night. It would've been so simple, to do away with the thin barriers that impeded them and be with one another, entrenched with shadow; the world around them blotted out.

But their endeavor, much like that night, was interrupted. Their orchestra of racing heartbeats and gasping breaths was cut through by the intrusive sound of the presence of another in the theater lobby. Immediately, Fredrick went rigid, opening a space between he and Shosanna. Though he released her, he still stood by, shielding her. All his passions were now set aside as Fredrick had his defenses up. Body tightening, his brows knitted together and he frowned as he listened; in the dim lighting cast by the projector, his expression appeared harsher than it was.

There were footsteps, followed by a muffled voice calling out in German.

Fredrick's jaw clenched. Shosanna could sense his hesitance; he wanted to come bounding out of the booth, but he restrained himself. Running a hand through his hair, Fredrick took in a jagged breath. There was more indistinct German from the lobby, followed by a stretch of silence. Looking to the doorway, he gave an infinitesimal nod of his head; Shosanna could see the wheels turning in his mind. She straightened herself from against the wall, and without giving so much as a glance, Fredrick raised a hand, wordlessly instructing her to stay where she stood. Bracing himself, he took hold of the door's handle, yanking it open and stepping out into the hallway.

Shosanna could hear more movement, then a woman's voice, speaking in German. Holding her breath, she went still, waiting for Fredrick's response. His voice was barely above a whisper,


Hurriedly, Shosanna emerged from the booth to find Fredrick frozen stock-still as he directly faced the woman - Helga, his sister - standing at the bottom of the staircase, eyes fixed on his. She couldn't help but be taken aback by the older woman. Tall and lean, Helga possessed cream colored skin, warm eyes, and soft, youthful features much like Fredrick himself had; as she smiled up at him, it was also evident that quirky mouths and uneven grins were a distinctly Zoller trait. Though the brother and sister clearly had their similarities, Helga's complete femininity and loveliness was more than noticeable, even as she stood before them, clad in a pair of dingy work coveralls and thick-soled boots with her tawny hair piled up and pinned back. She was all at once delicate and resilient; it seemed that such contradictions ran in the family.

A knapsack, which had been slung over Helga's shoulder, now fell to the floor as she hardly made any effort to mind it as her body had gone slack. Eyes wide and face beaming, she looked upon him with dumbstruck awe; it was as if that through her tears, prayers, and whispered pleas to the universe, her brother, the war hero, had been resurrected from the dead. Using the last threads of her resolve, she bounded up the stairs towards him, only for her knees to buckle and give out from under her half-way up.

Trembling, Fredrick propelled himself toward her, meeting her where she had stumbled. There, the two embraced in a collapsed heap in a flagrant display of unbridled emotion. Words slurred as their laughter and tears intermingled, as their jubilation and sorrow bled into each other. Such a sight it was, that if anyone were to intrude upon them, the two would appear to be outright hysterical. Shosanna remained where she stood, watching years of separation and anguish unfurl into reconciliation and exhilaration.

Wiping away tears from her eyes with the backs of her hands, Helga spoke to Fredrick in their shared language. She reached out to him, placing her hand beneath his chin, tipping his head back and turning it from side to side as she looked him over. She then spoke more, making a comment which made him laugh. It was a rich, vibrant sound that filled the lobby, amplifying its magnitude; it was a sound, Shosanna realized, she had not heard enough of. The siblings carried on with their exaltation, and though Shosanna could not make entire sense of their words, she shared in their splendor nonetheless. The reunion was, for her, both touching and bittersweet as she called to mind the loss of her family. No matter how far and how long she journeyed, Shosanna could not hope to see them again; not as how Fredrick was able to now hold his sister. Her heart lurched in her chest.

It was as if she had sensed this, for it was then that Helga raised her eyes from behind Fredrick's shoulder to finally take notice of the young woman. Obviously shamed at not having acknowledged her initially, a blush rose to Helga's face. Steadily, she brought herself to her feet, and out of nerviness, she brushed back a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. Helga then smiled, wide and genuine at her. Shosanna stepped forward, though she was uncertain of what do or to say; after all she had learned of Fredrick's oldest sister and his family's theater, she almost felt like an outsider on holy ground. It was ridiculous of her, Shosanna knew, but she had developed an admiration for the woman, even if they had not met until now. Fredrick straightened, and turned to face Shosanna, his features marked with a mix of adoration and excitement.

She now held their full attention.

There was a recognition in Helga's eyes and a familiarity in her voice,

"Emmanuelle Mimieux?"

It was quite plain that her reputation preceded her, even in Munich. Shosanna swallowed, wanting to speak. But Fredrick, in all his sincerity, spoke for her,

"She was."

Helga looked to Fredrick, then back to Shosanna. Her brows meeting, she did not wholly follow. Shosanna now brought herself to the head of the stairs, and boldly, she introduced herself.

"I am Shosanna Dreyfus."

A straightforward pronouncement, it was all she needed to say and all Helga needed to know. She gave a slow nod of her head as steadfastly, she climbed up the rest of the stairs that encompassed the expanse between her and the younger woman. Reaching the top, neither said a word as Helga crushed Shosanna to her. Just as easily as she welcomed her into her arms, Shosanna, too, circled her arms around Helga, accepting the gesture and all that came with it.

se sentent: excited
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[identity profile] agnes-wonka7.livejournal.com on July 12th, 2011 08:01 pm (UTC)
so beautiful and deep!
congrats :)
http://suspiriorum.livejournal.com/: [act: DB] You're so fragile tonight[identity profile] suspiriorum.livejournal.com on July 12th, 2011 09:07 pm (UTC)
Thank you so very much! ♥

I am so, so excited for the direction the story is going in.
[identity profile] ellista.livejournal.com on July 21st, 2011 04:59 am (UTC)
Omg omg! Fantastic! Worth the wait! I'm gonna PM you with a bigger update so I don't write a whole novel here ;)
http://suspiriorum.livejournal.com/: [film: IB; OTP] Iron & wine[identity profile] suspiriorum.livejournal.com on July 21st, 2011 05:04 am (UTC)
Thank you! ♥

I'm going to be working quicker with the fic updates, now that I have them plopped into Munich with the Zoller family. The things that will be happening to them have me much too excited.

[identity profile] earthtobells.livejournal.com on August 8th, 2011 08:59 pm (UTC)
Oh my godddd, I've finally caught up with KFAD! Oh and yeah, I wouldn't blame you if you were like "I don't remember you, who are you?"...just a fellow shipper who religiously followed anything Fred/Sho you created. Don't mind me, I'm just reading what I've been missing for weeks.

But seriously, your perceptive eye amazes me everytime. I mean, the way you observe things makes everything you write sound so real and true to character I just... you should have been hired by Tarantino, I swear.
http://suspiriorum.livejournal.com/: [film: IB; OTP] I will see him there[identity profile] suspiriorum.livejournal.com on August 8th, 2011 09:26 pm (UTC)
fsjkdskj; I never forget a Fred/Sho fan!

Oh, goodness, thank you ♥ I'm amazed that I've come this far with KFAD; I'm nearly at three straight years of being completely in love with Sho/Fred and it's not yet shown any signs of slowing down. I know there have been lulls in between updates and all, but I do have the rest of the story mapped out mentally and it's my goal to get it done this year.

Can I just be a total sap and thank you for following along with KFAD all this time? Because I'm just totally grateful for that. I mean, yeah, writing should be for my own enjoyment and all, but knowing that there's someone out there who enjoys it, too, makes it well worth it.
[identity profile] earthtobells.livejournal.com on August 8th, 2011 10:19 pm (UTC)
As much as I (and everyone else) anticipate your updates on the story, it makes me sad that it's coming to an end, lol, while that should probably be you, shouldn't it? But you should be very proud of yourself because honestly this is one of the very few, if not the only, Sho/Fred fanfiction I've found myself coming back to re-read, so give yourself a pat on the back.

You're very welcome, I should be the one thanking you for taking the time to write it! If anything, you're doing us fans a favor by not letting such talent go to waste.
http://suspiriorum.livejournal.com/: [act: DB] Cast a long shadow[identity profile] suspiriorum.livejournal.com on August 8th, 2011 11:07 pm (UTC)
I do admit, it'll be sad to finish their story, but fortunately, there's still more left for them to deal with and some loose ends to tie up. They're at the point now where they're going to have to adjust to both normal living and the aftermath of the war.

Oh, goodness, thank you. I really am incredibly proud of what I've been able to do for Sho/Fred. I say it a lot, but I hadn't written in years until seeing them and their story in IB, and I feel the absolute need to give them something. I started out kind of aimless with the plot when I began writing KFAD, as it progressed (I'd say about part 3?), I realized I had something for them, and a story to tell.

(I actually enjoy re-reading it, too. I'm usually very critical of what I do, but I don't feel that way with KFAD)

I sometimes wonder why I didn't get back into writing sooner now that I see how far I've come with it. I am more than thrilled that I'm able to write something for our tragic lovers that does them justice; something involved and thorough to provide closure for them and their fans.

On a related note, there's still complaints to be found about Sho/Fred. They can't ever remember my username, but apparently KFAD is this giant monolith to them and they can't understand why it was constructed to begin with. Mind you, none of them write, so they continue to whine about Fred and the absence of Marcel/Sho while KFAD continues to grow. I should be amused, I suppose.
[identity profile] earthtobells.livejournal.com on August 8th, 2011 11:30 pm (UTC)
Did you ever write any fanfiction before KFAD? Because I'm sure by this point I would read anything you'd choose to write.

I guess it's different when you write something because you always think there's something that could be fixed but for someone to go back to someone else's work means that it is indeed remarkable.

Haha, are you serious? But of course how could we forget about dear Marcel and the undying chemistry he and Shosanna shared? *heavy sarcasm* I guess we, alongside Tarantino himself, were brainwashed by a doomed couple worshiping cult.
Completely off topic but I've been meaning to ask you, because it concerns dear Fassy, have you seen Jane Eyre yet?
http://suspiriorum.livejournal.com/: [film: Thor; OTP] How you surprise me[identity profile] suspiriorum.livejournal.com on August 8th, 2011 11:50 pm (UTC)
I didn't, though there were times when I'd get ideas to. I just never had the ambition. I did write Loki/Darcy from Thor for a friend (Tom Hiddleston and Kat Dennings had their own on set adventures together like Daniel and Mélanie did), and I'm finally settling down to write some Dieter/Bridget. I'm also working on fix-it fic for Daniel's character Hans in Die kommenden Tage (which will involve Mélanie, of course).
(On a pretentiously personal note, I'm also writing a screenplay)

Oh, absolutely. I love that I can read it over and be satisfied with every part of it, and the fact that others can do the same means a whole hell of a lot to me. It reminds me that I'm not too shabby with this writing thing after all.

I swear, you'd think people would be over that by now, but they still go on. And it's still hilarious. One person was saying that they liked how vague Marcel and Shosanna were, because they "were past the point of PDA." You know, even though Quentin cut out 98% of their interactions because of Shosanna/Fredrick. Apparently Fred is basically Edward Cullen, too, but whatever. Fred would totally chew his baby out of Sho's womb if he had to.

I haven't yet, though I need to. I've been busy with work and writing, so I sadly haven't made much time for films. And yet I keep buying more and they sit unwatched in an ever-growing pile.
[identity profile] earthtobells.livejournal.com on August 9th, 2011 12:34 am (UTC)
This will be the first Thor fanfiction I ever read, then (:

A screenplay? That must be so exciting! You managed a good start, and the story sounds promising! And I absolutely adore the playlist, especially delighted to find out that the title is from the Waits song, absolutely love the guy.

Oh, of course he is, and he totally became a war hero by blinding his opponents thanks to his sparkling abilities.

Oh, you have to see it sometime! I'll admit I only saw it this morning (which is probably why I'm still fangirling over it) but my mother is already sick of me going on and on about Michael, and when I told her he was in Inglourious Basterds, she replied "Oh, the handsome good boy that loved that girl?" and then she had to suffer another 10 minutes on me babbling about our boy Dan.
http://suspiriorum.livejournal.com/: [music: TW] Yesterday is here[identity profile] suspiriorum.livejournal.com on August 9th, 2011 03:07 am (UTC)
Thor comes out here on dvd in September, so it'll give me more incentive to write for it.

It is! I had been researching and developing it since late 2009. It first began as a WWII film focusing on a Resistance group, but I shifted it to be post-war, so I could keep the focus on Aviva and Manfried. The Molyneuxs were in that original incarnation, so I slipped them into KFAD to try them out. I have bits and pieces scribbled out in notebooks, on file cars, and even on post-its, so it's now a matter of putting things together and then filling in the rest. Yes! I was thinking of what to title it when I had my itunes on shuffle, and Rain Dogs was, I realized, extremely fitting. The whole album seems to work well with war torn France.

Damn straight he did. They're just bitter that Sho didn't go with the werewolf.

Aw. I'll definitely have to, then. Seems like the kind of film my mom would enjoy watching with me, too.

"Oh, the handsome good boy that loved that girl?"
djfdjhf Okay, that's one of the best summations ever of Fred.

Oh, and going back to Thor - Dan might be starring in Rush, Ron Howard's new film about Austrian race car driver Nicki Lauda. Chris Hemsworth is playing his rival. There's nothing entirely concrete yet, I don't think, on Dan's casting, but it'd be a great challenge for him. Of course, that would also mean seeing Dan get burned up pretty bad.

And there can never be enough fangirling over Micahel. Never.
[identity profile] earthtobells.livejournal.com on August 9th, 2011 12:06 pm (UTC)
Well, you have to start somewhere, right? And you're doing great so far, I really wish it would get you far. I'm really curious, did you have anyone painted on your mind as Aviva and Manfried? I get too excited when I read stuff and try to picture them on my mind immediately.

Oh, please, Sho is too badass to go with a hairy werewolf. She likes them sparkly, because after all, diamonds are a girl's best friend.

It definitely is. I read the book when I was in primary school and never cared for it much but I loved the movie.

I'm excited for him! He needs to do more movies that will get him more recognized, and this definitely sounds like a project that would do just that (although having to pick a side between Dan and Chris would kill me completely, haha). I do see a little resemblance in Dan and a young Niki now that I look at some pictures, except the teeth. I don't know, I think Jamie Bell would make a good Niki Lauda too, they kinda look alike, lol.
http://suspiriorum.livejournal.com/: [film: IB/LiT] Have another cigarette[identity profile] suspiriorum.livejournal.com on August 9th, 2011 03:25 pm (UTC)
Thank you! For now, I'm sharing it in bits and pieces; when it's entirely done, I'm uploading it to my box.net account and sharing it with those I know who are interested in reading it. Like with KFAD, it's my goal to get Rain Dogs written this year. Then come revisions and seeing what I can do with it. One of my good friends moved this past weekend to Germany, and she and her German boyfriend are willing to translate the screenplay for me.

As ridiculous as it sounds, I do have Dan and Mélanie in mind as Manfried and Aviva. Like Quentin, Rain Dogs is a tribute to my major film loves. I suppose something that encourages me is the fact that both Dan and Mélanie have stated and proven time and again that they're willing to work with people who are new to the film industry. Dan has said he doesn't care where the story's from, as long as it's good, and Mélanie has said that she needs to feel the love and passion for the story to do it. So somehow, I seem certain that I can rope them in.

And though he speaks French, he can talk dirty to her in German. Sho secretly loves that, as we all know.

You know, I've never read anything by the Brontë sisters (or, for that matter, Jane Austen. What an uncultured bore I am).

Filming on Rush is to start this year, but I still can't get any solid confirmation on whether Dan has the part or not; only that he was in consideration by Howard for the part. It'd be great for him, and incredibly intense (indeed, it would be hard to choose between Thor and Fredrick Zoller). The '70s is a good look for Dan (judging by Salvador), and looks-wise, he could pass for Niki, though I definitely do see a resemblance between Lauda and Jamie Bell.
[identity profile] earthtobells.livejournal.com on August 9th, 2011 09:50 pm (UTC)
Good luck, then! May your muse be with you :) And that's perfect! Are you thinking about translating it to French as well? I mean, I know the conversation in the screenplay is French with English subtitles but still?

That is what I was hoping to hear! I'm so happy, because I totally guessed that you would pick Melanie for Aviva, and then of course it would be blasphemy to pair her up with anyone other than Dan. And I am absolutely positive that if they had the chance to ever read your screenplay, they would definitely warm up to it and we would owe you big time for creating another opportunity for these two to "discover each other" some more (;

We can't blame her. If he ever called me liebling it would probably be the death of me.

Really? And you are absolutely not! I'm only suprised because I always figured people who write as well as you do always loved the classics. And to be honest, I doubt I would pick up most of them off the library if it wasn't required for me to do so for school. I did like Pride and Prejudice, though, I must admit (how girly of me).

Me, either. I googled it after you told me, but I found nothing official. And oh, definitely! There's just something about him that looks so vintage, just like when Tarantino said something about if they shot Basterds in the forties, that he would still be the perfect choice for Fred. He has that gorgeous old movie star look, bless him.
http://suspiriorum.livejournal.com/: [act: ML/DB] Kiss and swallow[identity profile] suspiriorum.livejournal.com on August 10th, 2011 12:34 am (UTC)
Thank you! I'm surprised it's held on to me for this long. I get further encourage when I read about whatever new films Dan and Mélanie sign on to do. Currently, her directorial debut comes out in November, then she's filming a small part for her ex boyfriend's film, then she's playing a role in a new American film with Jesse Eisenberg. I just keep thinking,
"Oh, c'mon, if you're going to do that, then you can certainly do mine."

I'll get it translated into French, too. For now, I'm excited to know two people on a personal level who can translate it into German for me. The whole thing will be in French and German, with subtitles.

then of course it would be blasphemy to pair her up with anyone other than Dan.
Damn straight it would. I seem to have complete confidence that if they read the screenplay and if I'm able to talk to them about it, then they'd have qualms with doing it. No one gets to assassinate Hitler, but I still say it's a damn good story. I'm glad I made it post-war instead of during, as in the original incarnation of the story, I had a Gestapo Major as the antagonist, and I had Michael Fassbender in mind for him. I'm certain that I wouldn't be able to get him for anything now, so it's good that part of the story is gone.

I'll sure to have behind the scenes stuff so their discovery will be on film.Or at least the stuff that can be captured outside of their hotel room.

I don't know why she hasn't keeled over from heart failure by now. Sho's got some fortitude. But, she'd have to, in order to handle all of what Fred has to give her.

I think I generally read more non-fiction that I do fiction these days. I do really enjoy F. Scott Fitzgerald, Dalton Trumbo, and Marguerite Duras. I found Duras' screenplay annotations from Hiroshima mon amour to be quite inspiring (it was originally a book, though the film is a major influence on my screenplay). I work in a library, and I find it more exciting to go through our storage room, where books and others things that don't circulate as often are kept, as there are lots of interesting, rare books to be found.

I'd love for Dan to get the role, but Howard has been very busy taking on a lot of projects, so I don't know if Dan would want to wait around to hear anything back from him. For a film that's supposed to start production this year, there's hardly anything on it. Yes! As Quentin called the audition between Dan and Mel, "old movie star magic time."
I do love how Quentin also said that if there was a war hero like Fred and if he looked like Dan, then yes, he'd star in his own war film.
[identity profile] earthtobells.livejournal.com on August 10th, 2011 02:04 pm (UTC)
Oh yeah, I heard about that, Now You See Me? I was totally suprised when I heard she was going to be in it as well as Amanda Seyfried (cause you know, usually having one pretty girl in a movie seems to be enough for most movies like that). The story of it didn't quite grab me, I have to say; and if Melanie truly judged projects based on the story, she'd definitely say yes to yours.

I wish I hadn't forgotten most of the French I knew otherwise I'd gladly be here to help if needed. And sadly I don't speak any other important languages other than a few useless Balkan languages, and a little Italian, lol.

I'm pretty sure you'd have the ability to persuade them. And including Fassy would only be heaven on earth, but sadly I think the amount of recognition he's been getting lately with all his good quality projects would probably prevent him from joining :( Not that I'm saying the fame has gotten to his head or anything, he seems modest as ever, but you know what I mean.

YES! Do what Quentin failed to do. Unless he has undeveloped footage of the two he's hiding from us .

Fitzgerald is always a pleasure to read. And for Trumbo, I can't believe they didn't credit him for Roman Holiday! That movie was always one of my favourites since I was really young and I had no idea he wrote it for so long. And sadly, I haven't read anything by Duras yet. My literature teacher always complained about
how I only seemed to enjoy "boy books"..I guess Vonnegut is considered to be a men's author now *snort*

I think he's up for it, it's just Howard that needs to get his stuff together and start working :P
Of course he would! Girls would totally swoon over him back then (when there were no Disney teen heartthrobs around).

http://suspiriorum.livejournal.com/: [act: DB & QT] Muse and Madman[identity profile] suspiriorum.livejournal.com on August 10th, 2011 08:06 pm (UTC)
Yes! I hope she at least gets to play one of the magicians instead one of the agents trailing them (though I kind of doubt that). That's what I'm hoping for; that she'll understand the story I'm wanting to tell and want to do it. I think Aviva's the kind of character she'd like to play (it's either Mel or Eva Green; those are the only two who can play her).

Aw, well as long as I can prattle on at you about RD as I do with everyone else who will listen, then you'll be of plenty help.

I'm really counting on that. Be it arrogance or ego or whatever, I have set in my head that I can persuade them both to do it. And definitely with Fassy, it'd be more of a question of him having time now that he is doing some pretty big budget projects (especially franchise work with X-Men).

YES. Though judging by Mel's stories of working with Dan and by the few behind-the-scenes videos of IB I've found, I'm betting that Quentin has all evidence of their discovery and You're-so-German-You're-so-French fights are all secreted away in his film collection.
I wouldn't doubt that he filmed a Sho/Fred love scene which the conveniently found its way out of the final print.

I had this fantastic class in high school that combined English and History together, so what we read in English pertained to what we were learning in History. We read Fitzgerald and Trumbo, which is what got me into them. Trumbo's story is so fascinating, isn't it? I need to get a copy of Night of the Aurochs, as it's out of print. I need to be careful, though, as some editions have extra notes and outlines at the end, which is the one I want, and others don't. My dad always liked Duras, both her books and film adaptations. What he likes about her work (and what I like) is that aside from writing based off of her personal experiences, she always wrote of women in situations and relationships with what was called "the Other", such as the French woman in Hiroshima mon amour who was in love with both a Japanese man and her previous, first love during WWII with a German soldier. Duras wrote in such a way that didn't make the Other out to be something foreign or exotic; she just has a very human, honest way of writing.
Ha! I've found that people get far more critical with taste in literature than any other form of media. My brother, the English major, is the perfect example of that.

Hopefully it works out for Dan and Howard. Since Rush is slated for a 2013 release and Now You See Me for 2014, I gotta make sure I have my screenplay ready to go by early next year. Then I can make my move before either one reaches Fassy heights of fame.
They totally would have. Ugh, can you imagine him photographed in that gorgeous, black and white style back then?
Unfortunately for those girls, he'd have run away with a certain French Jewish woman.
[identity profile] earthtobells.livejournal.com on August 11th, 2011 05:26 pm (UTC)
I know, right? I'll be pissed if they try to make her a female agent slash love interest for Jesse Eisenberg. At least a magician sounds more mysterious and suits her (especially with her French accent, haha).
Eva Green might be even harder to get than Melanie. And I don't know why but I'd always prefer Melanie if I were given the choice. I think it's because she's already convinced us because Shosanna was a similar role, so it would fit her really well. But that is just my opinion, of course.

Glad that counts as help, then! (:
Oh well, Fassy can come to the premiere and bring August with him.

I BET HE DID TOO. I'll never forgive him for letting it be taken out (unless he pardons himself by leaking it online sometime) Quentin is suchhh a fangirl and I love him for it.

I've been living in a small city in southern Italy where you would die in search of English books so I really envy you for being able to find all those rare books. I'll just keep on adding people like Duras to my growing list of books to read and shop the heck out of bookstores when I go somewhere else.
They do, don't they? That and music, too. Stereotyping people based on music preferences is the most annoying thing ever.

That would be good. But of course don't push yourself to do something when you're not ready. After all, the most important thing is for you to be happy with what you've created, no matter how long it takes to finish it.
Someone needs to do a photoshoot like that with him right now. I think he already has a few that are similar to that style (tousled hair, cigarette and a suit) but still. We could never have enough.
http://suspiriorum.livejournal.com/: [act: DB/ML] Baby and I know it's real[identity profile] suspiriorum.livejournal.com on August 11th, 2011 06:17 pm (UTC)
I read that she's in talks to play the lead opposite Jesse, and Mark Ruffalo is the FBI agent and Amanda is a technician who helps the magicians pull of their heists. Morgan Freeman is also currently in talks to be one of the magicians. But definitely, I want this to be a good part for Mel if she's going to be in it.
Eva's what I call my back-up Aviva. But really, I'm willing to do whatever I can to get Mel and Dan as the leads. I have other actors in mind for the other characters, but they're not as important to me for this as that French gal and German boy are. I'm willing to throw out my dignity and cry if I have to.

It totally does! ♥
Yes. They're both cordially invited and must wear fancy suits.

He's probably rewatching that scene for the billionth time and giggling to himself over a big bowl of popcorn. I love Quentin's fangirling over Sho/Fred and over Dan in general. On a related note, I feel it really says something about the integrity of Fredrick that, for Quentin, seeing Dan in Goodbye Lenin! is what prompted him to cast Dan for the part. Shosanna/every Dan character ever.

I've learned to really not take that for granted. On any whim, I'm able to read books and publications from just about any point in history, and it made researching for my screenplay (and KFAD, as I enjoy being factual) that much easier. And aside from that, reading for recreation has been much easier; even if we don't have a certain book here, it can usually be tracked down anywhere within the library system.
I'd probably get some interesting judgment as lately, I've been carrying around books on Nazi occupied France and I've been listening to nothing but Tom Waits lately. Somehow, the two just really work together.

It would be. Maybe it's because I'm fast approaching thirty, so I feel a need to accomplish something major, which is why I'm putting pressure on myself. I certainly love what I'm writing, but it does get exhausting sometimes. It's like that saying goes: it's about the journey, not the destination.

Yes! And bring in Mel, all '40s glamorous to shove her fingers in his hair and pull at his shirt collar.

[identity profile] earthtobells.livejournal.com on August 11th, 2011 11:09 pm (UTC)
That's weird, I figured they'd make Amanda a magician and Morgan an agent. Eh, what the hell, what do I care, I'll give it a watch if it ever hits the cinemas here, haha.
Oh, what do you know, turning on the waterworks works in some cases. Nothing too hysterical, though, everybody gets freaked out by that.

August gets to bring Elsa Augusta so he can convince Mel and Dan to what a delight fatherhood (and motherhood) is, doesn't he?

I totally pictured that on my mind (my imagination works very well in these cases). And I can definitely see why he saw a connection there, they're quite similar now that I think of it. Except for their choices in women, Freddie has better taste there ;)

It really is fortunate that you're working in a bookstore and have resources to make your work even a better quality. I can guess how much hard work it takes, but it really is worth it in the end, isn't it?
And I don't know, everything non-mainstream is apparently indie now, so maybe that? Definitely not a hipster. Tom Waits eats hipster kids for breakfast.

Oh, it's definitely better than procrastinating, so don't take it as a bad thing. As long as you enjoy what you're doing, keep on doing it on your terms.

Oh, Mel always has that Vogue look to her, so that would be no problem at all. Damn those good genes.
http://suspiriorum.livejournal.com/: [act: LS/AD] Come pick me up[identity profile] suspiriorum.livejournal.com on August 12th, 2011 12:51 am (UTC)
The more I hear about the film, the less enticing it sounds. I'd love to see Jesse and Mel play a pair of neurotic Jewish siblings in something by Woody Allen.
I figure as long I don't snot all over myself I'll be good. I'll throw in a, "This is my first screenplay and I wrote it for you!" in for good measure.

Absolutely! Dan's probably well acquainted with babysitting Elsa while August and Julia go out. I bet he teaches her swear words in French and Catalan and then gives her a lot of sugar.

I can see it, but more so in Dan's performance rather than the IB screenplay. He made Fred even more of an innocent, which is probably what Quentin wanted for the part. Fred knows a good woman when he sees her, especially when she's up a ladder outside of the theater she runs. My friend told me after seeing Goodbye Lenin! that Mel should've been in it. Because all of Dan's films could use her.

I love my job, and indeed, it's really worth it in the end. I read, back when I was beginning Rain Dogs, that one should expect to spend up to two years writing a screenplay. I almost didn't want to believe that, but I now see how right that estimation is.
Ha! I do get told that I look like an art school student from 1990, though. But I unironically enjoy a lot of things that would count against me being a hipster. Tom Waits is the only person alive who can be sitting next to David Bowie and not give a fuck.

I am so good at procrastinating, too. I seem to have to function with a degree of pressure on myself. It backfires sometimes, leading to a total burnout. However, I have a drive to write this thing that I've not felt before (or at least in a very long while), which is reinvigorating. Sometimes it's nice to slow down a bit, too.

Now if only those two can combine those genetics. I would gladly wait eighteen years for that child to grow up and break into acting (I imagine Mel and Dan would have to keep a close eye on such a child).

[identity profile] earthtobells.livejournal.com on August 12th, 2011 12:43 pm (UTC)
That would be really interesting to see, and a nice change from the usual type of movies he's in. I'm not a big fan, but I liked a couple of movies he was in.
Ah, that line should do it! Bring a laptop and show them un_amico and that'll convince them even further (or it might totally backfire and we might freak them out, idk?)

I want Dan to babysit me *cough* I mean, yes, I bet that's exactly what he does.

I know, that's why I don't get why people view him as juat another evil Nazi, because he's the most innocent of them all (and I'm pretty sure that was entirely Dan's doing; anyone else playing Fred would have totally made the projection booth scene look like it was an attempt at rape). And I totally agree with your friend, but that would leave them no other choice but to get married already.

Wow. I don't think I could ever do that but of course I say that out of envy because I have no talent at writing whatsoever.
That's right. He's also probably the only person Iggy Pop will suck up to.

Oh, I'm the queen of procrastinators. Okay, maybe I'm being a bit unfair to myself...I will procrastinate during the day and then wake up in the middle of the night to compensate for that, haha.

We already established some while ago that the combination of their genetics would lead to an apocalyptic baby, remember? But I'm totally fine with that.

http://suspiriorum.livejournal.com/: [act: DB] Memories of green[identity profile] suspiriorum.livejournal.com on August 12th, 2011 08:38 pm (UTC)
He does have a role in an upcoming Woody Allen film that sounds promising. From what I've seen of his films and interviews, he's likable and has some real potential. Hopefully, he doesn't waste it on ridiculous comedies, which he seems to be doing at the moment.
I might just keep that to myself. Or share it with Quentin. Then he and I can giggle at them behind their backs.

Imagine the things he teaches Melanie. Yes, yes, that's what he does.

I still wonder why it's okay to a fan of Landa and Hellstrom, but the moment you mention you like Fredrick, people are all aghast and clutching their pearls. There's one person I see around the fandom who just hates Fredrick, and her reasoning was that everyone else was "openly a jackass", whereas Fredrick was trying to pass himself off as otherwise. Really? He has actual depth, which, no matter how much fanfic is written about Hellstrom and Sho being ~secret lovers or how brilliant Landa is, they lack depth. There was much more to Fredrick, which indeed, Dan brought to the role. His mannerisms, his gestures, the way he looks at Shosanna speak volumes more than Hellstrom's leering or Landa's hubris. It's no wonder at all that Quentin fell entirely in love with the dynamic and chemistry between Fredrick and Shosanna (it forever kills me that the casting of Shosanna depended on the chemistry with Dan). I think it's the conflict of Fredrick that makes people uncomfortable. He's not black and white, therefore he can't be neatly categorized for most. As my dad put it, he wasn't "Nazi enough" for the fandom to fully embrace him; if he were openly, gleefully bigoted and violent instead of being the damaged young man that he was, then there'd be no issue with him.
Thankfully, quite a bit of the internet agrees with us about the need for a Franco-German union.

I'll be coming up on the two year mark this winter. I can see why that time frame is suggested, as writing aside, so much of the story grows and changes as it's fleshed out. If I had immediately started writing everything after first getting the idea for Rain Dogs, it'd have become something entirely different. I've really learned the meaning patience with all of this.

Yes! Not even Bowie can manage that (though I'm sure he tries).

I'm prone to doing that, too! I've thrown my sleep schedule many times by deciding it's a great idea to stay up until dawn and write/photoshop/repent for putting things off.

How did that slip my mind?! I'm guessing I didn't want to think of the world exploding from them procreating. They should go ahead and do it anyway.

Edited 2011-08-12 09:10 pm (UTC)
[identity profile] earthtobells.livejournal.com on August 13th, 2011 09:31 pm (UTC)
Really? God I would never find out some things if it weren't for you.
Wasn't he nominated for an Oscar or something recently? Guess he's already past Fassy heights of fame.
Oh, definitely show it to Quentin (though I'm pretty sure he's already a member who's hiding and giggling at us because we have no idea).

That's one of the benefits she gets from him.

Rrrrighttttt. Because Fredrick totally didn't have the most innocent eyes when he looked at Shosanna and he definitely flashed an evil grin whenever she turned away. How could we fall for it? And if Quentin wanted a jackass to fall in love with Shosanna he would just make Landa or Hellstrom her love interest and save himself all the trouble of coming up with Fredrick. And seriously, the reason why I can't bring myself to read any fanfiction that's not Fred/Sho is because I really can't understand what makes people think that if Shosanna didn't give Fredrick a chance, why she would give the man who freaking killed her entire family (or even Hellstrom, who wasn't any better) one. The logic behind that is just impossible to see for me.
Ah, thank god tumblr is full of wise people.

Wow! We'll have an anniversary of it with lots of Fred/Sho .gifs to celebrate! And I'm glad you decided to wait for it to be exactly right! It's better than writing it out on a whim and not being pleased with it afterwards.

If Quentin had included one tiny Waits song on the soundtrack for IB, I would love him ten times more (if that's even possible).

And for somebody who treasures sleep deeply, you can guess how painful it is for me to do so, lol.

I'd rather die because of their super hot baby instead of the whole 2012 thing, just saying.

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