An Ideal Marriage - A Beauty and the Beast/Downton Abbey AU
Adam Savoy is the sole heir of the Earl of Villeneuve, living a lavish life of spending and gambling. But where he goes, scandal always seems to follow. After a way of paying off Adam’s spending sinks with the Titanic, the Earl orders Adam back to their country home and marry an eligible girl from a good family as soon as possible, or he loses his inheritance.
Belle Deveraux lives a modest life with her father in a small village in Kent. Longing for more than the life of a farm hand, she accepts a job as a housemaid at the village’s big house,Theron Hall, home to the Earl of Villeneuve and his son, to save up enough money to see galleries, universities, and libraries.
When the two meet accidentally, Adam becomes immediately intrigued with the woman who loves Theron’s library as much as he does. But he knows that a relationship between them would not be taken well by society, and least of all by his father. Belle tries to avoid the handsome heir’s advances at first, as she knows that any sort of romance would never be a success, but nevertheless the two are drawn towards each other, despite the world of obstacles that would prevent them from being together.
The word egg was a borrowing from Old Norse egg, replacing the native word ey (plural eyren) from Old English
ǣġru. Like “children” and “kine” (obsolete plural of cow), the plural ending -en was added redundantly to the plural form in Middle English. As with most borrowings from Old Norse, this showed up first in northern dialects of English, and gradually moved southwards, so that for a while, ey and egg were used in different parts of England.
In 1490, when William Caxton printed the first English-language books, he wrote a prologue to his publication of Eneydos (Aeneid in contemporary English) in which he discussed the problems of choosing a dialect to publish in, due to the wide variety of English dialects that existed at the time. This word was a specific example he gave. He told a story about some merchants from London travelling down the Thames and stopping in a village in Kent
And one of theym… cam in to an hows and axed for mete and specyally he axyd after eggys, and the goode wyf answerde that she could speke no Frenshe. And the marchaunt was angry, for he also coude speke no Frenshe, but wolde have hadde egges; and she understode hym not. And thenne at laste a-nother sayd that he wolde have eyren. Then the good wyf sayd that she understod hym wel. Loo, what sholde a man in thyse dayes now wryte, egges, or eyren? Certaynly it is hard to playse every man, by-cause of dyversite and chaunge of langage.
The merchant in this story was only familiar with the word egg, while the woman only knew ey, and the confusion was only resolved by someone who knew both words. Indeed, the woman in the story was so confused by this unfamiliar word egg that she assumed it must be a French word! The word “meat” (or “mete” as Caxton spelled it) was a generic word for “food” at the time.
The word ey may also survive in the term Cockney, thought to derive from the Middle English cocken ey (”cock’s egg”), a term given to a small misshapen egg, and applied by rural people to townspeople
Both egg and ey derived from the same Proto-Germanic root, *ajją, which apparently had a variant *ajjaz in West Germanic. This Proto-Germanic form in turn derived from Proto-Indo-European *h2ōwyóm. In Latin, this root became ōvum, from which the adjective ōvalis meaning “egg-shaped”, was derived. Ōvum itself was borrowed into English in the biological sense of the larger gamete in animals, while ōvalis is the source of oval.
The PIE root is generally though to derive from the root *h2éwis, “bird”, which is the source of Latin avis “bird”, source of English terms such as aviation. This word may also be related to *h2ówis “sheep”, which survived in English as ewe. One theory is that they were both derived from a root meaning something like “to dress”, “to clothe”, with bird meaning “one who is clothed [in feathers]” and sheep meaning “one who clothes [by producing wool]”.
“Hitching rides from New York to Chicago; keeping enough change in your pocket to make calls from pay phones; making the rounds of friends and acquaintances living in tenement walk-ups, all with the same makeshift end table next to the same beat-up sofa by the same window looking out on the same fire escape—Inside Llewyn Davisis a story whose every particular is firmly rooted in the early sixties in general, and in the West Village in particular. The Coens have always been zealous excavators of the unheralded or bypassed corners of American life, from late-forties Northern California suburbia to the folkways of the modern American Midwest. They are connoisseurs of the spaces between and the moments before and after or just on the edges of historical milestones. And as storytellers, they seem to begin, gleefully, with a self-imposed challenge: Who is the least likely hero-on-a-quest on whose shoulders we can park an entire movie?
That the Coen brothers are comic artists is lost on no one, but I think of them equally as musical filmmakers. Like Martin Scorsese and the many directors who have come after him, the Coens make films with carefully curated pop-music soundtracks (The Big Lebowski, A Serious Man) tied not only to the ambience but also the thematic drive of the works. Each of the Coens’ movies is “set” to the music of a particular variety of American speech …
Whenever the characters in this film pick up their instruments and sing, their sense of time, and ours, shifts from the numbingly horizontal to the poetically and ecstatically vertical … Plain American language in all its glory, a deep and aching sadness transfigured by song into what can only be called affirmation, a tattered, bloody flag of freedom planted in the ground of doubt, cruelty, and indeterminacy. That’s the wonder of this music and the movie that holds it.”
@ittybittyzimmermann i bulleted something for your omgcp x httyd au? i hope this is what you were picturing! (this got really frickin long)
ok so bad bob was the leader of their clan? tribe? village? whatever? and he’s still technically the leader but more and more he’s trying to get jack to take on more responsibilities to train him for when bob retires
bad bob used to win ALL the dragon races, like when he became the leader (chief? someone help me with terminology please) everyone was just relieved because it’s custom for the leader to ref the races instead of participating and now maybe someone else can win
and his dragon is a monstrous nightmare? (the one that sets itself on fire i think, anyway it’s badass) and the dragon’s name is good robert (i got this idea from through the crowd by kirkaut, which by the way is hilarious) and jack also has a monstrous nightmare (who is named after a historical figure, possibly and probably hiccup)
so jack and his dragon hiccup are doing v well, dragon racing with the best of them not that anyone expects anything less. and his best friend/competitor is kent, whose dragon i haven’t decided on yet but i think it’s entirely possible his dragon is the same one astrid rides (think of the bonus angst value b/c of course jack knows about hiccup and astrid and he knows what dragon astrid rode IMAGINE THE HOPE AND THE ANGST)
ok so i can’t really think of anything like the draft for them so here is my alternative solution: kent is faster than jack when they race. jack is worried b/c he isn’t living up to his dad and thinks that means he can’t be a good leader. he stays up at night worrying about it and is so tired that he falls off his dragon in one of the races and hits his head on a rock on the way down