Une des choses que j'aime le plus en français, c'est les expressions qui nous paraissent normale à nous qui sommes habitués mais qui ne veulent absolument rien dire si on les traduit dans n'importe quelle autre langue.
One of the things I like the most in French are the totally weird expression which seems normal for us but don’t mean anything in any other language
( and YES I don’t know how many times I’ve gotten weird looks from English friends because: no, “ It’s like peeing in a violin” isn’t something that make sense in English)
So yeah in honour of this day, here are some of my favourite ( with approximate traditions )
- être copain comme cochon / friends like pig -> being best friends
- “ t'es con comme un balais” / “you’re as dumb as a broom” -> you’re a fucking idiot
- “vas te faire cuire un œuf!” / “ go and Cook yourself an egg” - > fuck off
- “ Elle pète plus haut que son cul” / “ she farts above her ass” -> she’s full of herself
- “ on s'en fout comme de l'en 40” / “ It’s as relevant as the 40’s ” -> I don’t give a shit about that
- “ je vais péter les plomb!” / “ I’m gonna break a fuse” -> go crazy
- avoir le cul bordé de nouilles / to have one’s ass filled with noodle -> be lucky
- “ça casse pas trois pattes à un canard” / it doesn’t break three legs to a duck -> it isn’t that extraordinary
And my favorite:
- “ouais c'est ça et mon cul c'est du poulet!” / “yeah right and my ass is made of chicken” -> I know you’re lying
Don’t know if anybody translated this, but I got an ask asking me to do it so here you go :) It was a little hard to do in a good way since they jump between people all the time haha. (and lol I’m dying at her comment about Henrik’s jacket)
Interviewer: Can we hear your Noora catchphrase? Josefine: My Noora catchphrase?
Interviewer: Maybe the one with “fiskekakene” (the fish cakes)? Josefine: Oh god!
Interviewer: Hi my name is Petra Josefine: Hi, Josefine Interviewer: Hi Josefine, nice to meet you! Skam is a big success in Denmark, and we’ve asked the danish fans to send some questions. Are you in on it? Josefine: Yes
Interviewer: (to carl martin) Why do you think Skam is a big success, no matter if people are 15 or 40 years old?
Ulrikke: Skam; feelings, the experience of growing up and find yourself, is universal.
Carl Martin: Because it’s a series that takes the target group seriously and that dares to bring up important subjects
Iman: I think it is because alot of people can relate to at least something. Maybe not everything, but something, in Skam.
Interviewer: Is there any chance that you would fall for a danish person? Marlon: Yeah, I think so.
Interviewer: (to henrik) Why do you have your jacket hanging down there?
Interviewer: In Denmark, there are 40 year old women who’s drooling over all of you. Carl Martin: Yeah I’ve gotten some messages.. Interviewer: Is somebody writing you? Carl Martin: Yeah but it’s very nice though, most often it’s very nice.
Interviewer: How was it to kiss another man? Henrik: To kiss another man is not much different than to kiss a woman. Except that there’s a little..
Interviewer: beard? Henrik: Beard and stuff,
Interviewer: It scratches? Henrik: It scratches. Now I’m lucky that Tarjei hasn’t gone that far in puberty that he’s got a full beard.
Interviewer: Do I have the right lipstick on today? Josefine: It looks very good. You’re more Noora than me.
Interviewer: (to ulrikke) Can we hear your catchphrase?
Interviewer: (to carl martin) “kødder du?” (are you kidding?) Carl Martin: oh yeah, “kødder du?”
Ulrikke: “William is the most good looking and funny guy!”
Rakel: “I think i’m gonna go to bed again”
Interviewer: You’re good!
Noora: What is it that i’m saying now again…
Carl Martin: “Eskild, you’ve taken my fish cakes!” I think it’s something along that line? But that’s not my catchphrase!
Interviewer: Haha no, you can’t take somebody elses catchphrase.
Josefine: “I was gonna eat two fish cakes at five o clock, and now i’m not getting any fish cakes!”
Interviewer: Josefine can you give all the danish fans a greeting in danish into the camera? And you decide yourself what you wanna say. Josefine: Oh i’m so bad at danish! Josefine: (trying to sound danish).. Hi.. Denmark
Marlon: (trying to sound danish) Hi hi, Watcha doin man? For fucks sake.
Ina: (trying to sound danish) It’s alot of fun…
Cengiz: *mumbles something that isn’t even words*
Ulrikke: *mumbles something that isn’t even words*
Ina: .. to watch skam.
Ina: Thank you so much for watching Skam, you’re so amazing and there hadn’t been any Skam without you.
sometimes I forget how gently Mr. Crepsley introduces Darren to the idea that he might become quartermaster, that they might be staying for the long haul. i forget and how he asks Darren how he would feel about it all and wants to get Darren’s opinion before he accepts or declines the position
but then I remember and it makes me smile so wide, because even if he’s a grumpy old ginger scarface
French for : the call of the fall. That exhilarating little voice in your head when you’re near an edge that keep telling you how cool it could be to jump… It goes against every instinct of survival out there so it would make sense for aliens NOT to have it…
But then they meet humans, and we do have that. Imagine:
The base had built on a cliffside because it was the only safe place they could find on that planet. Everywhere else, predatory animals could easily catch them, but luckily nothing here had learned to fly… And Xhe were quite happy with this base, it was neat and the view was great!
Speaking of, Xhe could see human-Niel on the balcony above and… wait… why were they so close to the edge… and the protective shield was off! Oh by the moons they were going to jump?! Xhe had heard the tales of humans jumping in an attempt at self-destruction, but the humans in those stories did so because their lives were miserable! Human-Niel had shown no such signs!
Running as fast as its three-bend legs allowed, Xhe managed to get to the balcony… just as human-Niel backed off, grinning and shaking his head.
Looking at Xhe, the human waved in greeting. “Hey mate! Whoa, what’s wrong?
Xhe was visibly shaken, and the human had noticed, so Xhe decided to ask.
“ Pardon me human-Niel, during a moment I thought you would jump off! I was very worried for you!
” To Xhe surprise, the human laughed.
“ Oh! No mate, I wouldn’t jump! But I love hanging at the edge, it’s the whole
” Appel du vide
” … Appel du vide?
” Yeah… its an instinct humans have, that make us want to jump. But we got good survival instinct too so we don’t actually do it.
Xhe could only watch as the human went to his station, left to wonder the notion he just learned… humans had instinct that told them to jump to death, countered by an instinct that told them not too…
Xhe would truly never understand humans…
…. well this got a bit ahead of me… Never wrote that kind of stuff before, hope you like ^^”
It was, refreshingly, a spark of the old and familiar Xanatos. Qui-Gon felt the tension in his shoulders ease at that, and gave a rueful shake of his head. That was not the reaction he’d expected to have to the reappearance of Xan’s manipulative streak, but it wasn’t directed at him for once—at least, not yet—and he was content to just watch.
It was a work of art, truly, the way Xan laid his traps, placed his victims in them and wound the whole construction up like fine clockwork. He felt a momentary pang for the team they might have made in the field—a dynamic that they’d rarely had a chance to push to its full potential in Xan’s Padawan years. Such a form of negotiation, while effective, was by no means ethical. Qui-Gon was happy to take matters into his own hands and ignore the Council’s foibles while dealing with the realities of fieldwork. Xan took that particularly troublesome aspect of his to the extreme.
Would it have made a difference, though, if his skills had been recognised from the very beginning and employed to their most devastating effect? Cultivated and directed, rather than derided and suppressed? Not for the first time, Qui-Gon found himself thinking that his own Master might have succeeded where he had not. Jard Dooku, heir to the countship of Serenno, might actually have known how to navigate the mental minefield that a childhood in House du Crion had left Xanatos with. There might have been some sort of warmth from that understanding.
Then again, Qui-Gon admitted to himself ruefully, his relationship with Master Dooku hadn’t been quite successful on that front.
He was surprised out of his thoughts by a low voice issuing from behind him. “It would never have worked, and you know it.” Xanatos’ drawl almost hid a note of bitter nostalgia. Almost, but not quite well enough.
Qui-Gon turned, startled by the non sequitur that had fallen in so perfectly with his musings. “What?”
“You were thinking of how well we might have fit together, as a pair of Knights,” Xanatos clarified, folding his hands behind him and staring up at the stars, as if trying to put as much distance between himself and Qui-Gon’s thoughts as possible.
A cool night breeze teased Xan’s dark hair, and reminded Qui-Gon what it was like to breathe. He’d felt stifled all day, he realised. Qui-Gon let his gaze fall to the robes his former Padawan wore. Neatly pressed attire, soft, smooth silk overlaid in folds—rich simplicity that still somehow resembled the intricate arrangement of traditional Jedi uniforms. “I was thinking that one does not have to be good to do good in the world, and that perhaps the Order had failed you from the start, by failing to accept your gifts as they were.”
Since the start of the Separatist Crisis, Xanatos had watched the Corps assert their independence with some pride. The Jedi had very quickly and smoothly entered the market as a significant entity in their own right, mostly trading in raw materials, and eventually becoming competitive enough to fill the vacuum left behind when the CIS worlds had broken off trade with the Republic. At last, Xan remembered thinking, someone in the Order had been using their head. He’d been even more pleased to learn that his Master and brother-Padawan had been the architects of this new-found independence.
Of course, the new arrangement meant that negotiations generally involved both planetary and AgCorps representatives. It complicated matters on occasion, but Xanatos found himself overall pleased with the result. The Jinn-Kenobi team had handled many of the early treaties and agreements Sunrise Corporation had been a part of, particularly during the early transition period when most other parties had been leery of opening trade with Jedi. It was mostly for this reason that Xanatos still wanted a representative of the Order present at all Sunrise negotiations. It didn’t matter that the discussion didn’t really involve the Order at this point—what mattered was that they were an important influence on the market, and they leant a certain gravitas to the occasion, particularly since the Jedi had been invited by none other than Xanatos du Crion, head of Telosian Sunrise Operations himself.
Xanatos could tell Qui-Gon sensed his presence at the negotiations was at least superfluous, if not entirely unnecessary. But his former Master seemed content to play along with the charade, devoting the surface layer of his attention to the proceedings. Xanatos felt a prickling charge on his skin, a strange dull pressure at the dessicated stump of what had once been his training bond with this man, all signifying that the true source of Qui-Gon Jinn’s focus was Xanatos himself. He couldn’t help but wonder what Jinn saw.
But, in truth, Xanatos still knew his Master well. There was only one thing he could have been thinking of.
Lafayette knew how much trouble he was in when Grandmother herself came to pick him up from the village. She had profusely thanked the man who had found him, and assured him she would properly discipline the boy. Lafayette thought he saw the man wince in sympathy as Grandmother dragged him out by his ear.
“Stupid,” Grandmother said to him, once they had gotten in the carriage and were on their way back to the manor. “Even if the Beast of Gévaudan were anything but tattle, to think that you could fight anything bigger than a ladybug.”
Lafayette bristled internally at that, but knew better than to say anything, much less tell her about his ingenious plan to drop a very large rock on the beast. Grandmother sighed heavily and toyed with the top of her cane. “I do not know what to do with you, Gilbert. The whole village will be laughing about the silly Lafayette boy now. You know this is not how men in our family are supposed to behave.”
Here, Grandmother was clearly wrong, and Lafayette could not help himself but to correct her. “I’m supposed to fight,” he said, a little angrier than he meant to show. “All the men in my family fight. My father fought.”
An odd look came over Grandmother’s face. The carriage had stopped and Lafayette heard the steps of the foot servant outside, but Grandmother called out, “A moment.”
Grandmother stood and then knelt before him on the carriage floor. “Gilbert,” she said. “You’re right, your father fought. And now your father is dead.” Lafayette stared at her, more frightened by the difficulty with which she spoke the words than with any of her prior scolding. “Your father is dead, and your mother, and my husband, and so, so many others. And so many of them died in battle, Gilbert.”
Lafayette was still too scared to move. She continued. “We are very much alone now, you and I,” she said. “And so I cannot lose you.”
Grandmother ducked her head down and Lafayette thought for a moment he saw her eyes shining, and that was enough to make his well up. “I’m sorry, Grandmother, I’m sorry. I only wanted to help.”
“I know, Gilbert, I know.” Now she sounded more like her usual self, if a bit wearier than normal. “But there are other, better ways to help.”
Lafayette knew about those ways, being polite with Grandmother’s guests and paying attention during his lessons. They were much, much less interesting than hunting monsters. But he nodded dutifully. Grandmother did not seem to believe him though, and eyed him down. “Gilbert,” she said after a moment. “Do you know about knights?”
Did he know about knights. “Of course, Grandmother,” he said. “I read all about them, I know the ones that—“
“Yes, yes,” she said impatiently. “You know they fight for the king, they carry out his mission, yes?”
“Of course, Grandmother!”
“Well, I am no king,” she said. “But would you like to be my knight?” Lafayette stared at her, puzzled, and she smiled. “You will fight, of course, you are a Lafayette. But your mission is to be the strongest, the best knight, so that no other can defeat you. Your mission is to keep yourself safe until you can truly fight, because otherwise you will be risking your cause. You will do your family name justice, and you will do your duty to me.” She straightened up and looked down on him. “Does that agree with you, Gilbert?”
Lafayette nodded rapidly and she laughed. She took her cane and tapped him on each shoulder. “You know, Sir Lafayette, this does mean you will need to do better in your lessons.”
Lafayette quickly looked over at her, suspicious that this was an elaborate ploy to get him to do all that boring stuff without complaining. But she simply knocked on the door with her cane and stepped down from the carriage, calling over her shoulder, “To your room, Sir Lafayette. You are still being punished.”
For a while now I’ve had a very docile plot bunny about a Happier Star Wars AU, the basic premise being what if the order of Qui-Gon’s Padawans got switched up and everyone was better off because of it. Until yesterday I’d never written a word of this plot bunny, but last night this one scene grabbed hold of me and demanded to be written. There’s a whole story built up before and after this scene, but I’ve tried to make it clear enough to stand by itself, since I’ll probably never get around to writing the rest of the story. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
@quiobiweek, this is probably the closest I’ll come to having a contribution for this week. If background QuiObi counts, let me know and I’ll add this to the AO3 Collection.
~ and now, a snippet:
Anakin keeps his face all but plastered to the window as the shuttle flies from the Senate Rotunda to the Jedi Temple. From the seat beside him, Padawan du Crion leans over Anakin’s shoulder and points out various landmarks as they travel through the skies of Coruscant. The young Jedi has an endless stream of stories, whether of criminals he has chased into this building or that canyon, or where the best local diners can be found for a meal during an illicit trip to the underlevels of the great city-planet.