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omagazineparis · 4 months

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Offrez des moments de détente avec des cadeaux beauté sensationnels.

Il y a quelques jours, les téléfilms de Noël faisaient déjà fait leur grande rentrée sur nos écrans. Preuve que la saison des fêtes est bel et bien lancée ! Alors, on le sait, chaque année, le choix des cadeaux peut devenir un véritable casse-tête. Ô Magazine prend donc les devants et vous propose aujourd'hui une sélection de cadeaux beauté pour femme aux petits oignons ! Sélection beauté pour Noël ©JeanneBALLION Les soins capillaires bio Floressance Expert botanique depuis 1996, Floressance propose pour cet hiver des nouveautés capillaires certifiées bio. Ce sont des soins obtenus à partir d’ingrédients d’origine naturelle, sourcés en France et produits sur le site de Périgny, aux portes de La Rochelle. Notre coup de coeur va pour le duo shampoing et après-shampoing Fleurs d'Aubépine de Bourgogne. Conçus pour cheveux colorés ou méchés, ces produits sont le combo parfait pour conserver couleur et brillance, et ce, avec du 100% bio ! Le rituel visage Abeille Royale Guerlain Les produits de l'abeille comptent parmi les meilleurs cicatrisants naturels au monde. Guerlain en a donc extrait la puissance active pour créer la gamme Abeille Royale : des soins dotés de la technologie BlackBee Repair qui aide à stimuler les mécanismes clés du processus de réparation de la peau pour aider à corriger en continu rides et perte de fermeté tissulaire. Nos coups de cœur vont pour l'huile démaquillante suivie de la lotion fortifiante. Cette association parfaite aidera votre peau à résister aux effets des différents stress et de la pollution qui altèrent sa qualité et sa beauté. Les masques naturels Origins Super puissants, les masques Origins sont efficaces pour maintenir une peau saine. Ils travaillent rapidement pour vous débarrasser des préoccupations majeures de votre peau. Leurs textures sont gourmandes et leurs notes olfactives sont chargées d’huiles essentielles 100% naturelles. Nos préférés ? Le CLEAR IMPROVEMENT™, au charbon et au miel, qui agit comme un aimant pour désincruster en douceur les pores des toxines et impuretés tout en nourrissant la peau. De même pour le DRINK UP INTENSIVE™, à poser en masque toute la nuit pour une hydratation en profondeur de la peau. Les soins visage So'Bio Étic Tous certifiés bio et naturels, les soins So'Bio Étic allient efficacité et respect de l'environnement. Pour celles et ceux qui recherchent une alternative plus naturelle et écologique, votre solution est toute trouvée. Aucune déception n'est possible avec les produits So'Bio Étic. Nos coups de cœur vont néanmoins pour le soin léger anti-âge nuit à l'huile d'Argan, un concentré de jeunesse à prix tout petit, et le soin contour des yeux anti-fatigue pour enfin dire adieu aux cernes. À lire également : N’ayez crainte Juliette, il nous reste du bon champagne Le parfum au Jasmin envoûtant Bulgari Rien que par son nom, ce parfum nous attire : Splendida Jasmin Noir. Cet intitulé est emprunt de mystère, et nous promet donc un voyage sensoriel unique en ces temps de fêtes. En effet, Jasmin Noir est une fragrance contradictoire à l'imaginaire puissant. Pour les fins connaisseurs, on retrouve en note de tête le Gardénia, de l'absolu de Jasmin d'Arabie en coeur et une note de Patchouli en fond. Ainsi, en véritable ode à la féminité, à la séduction et à l'élégance, Jasmin Noir évoque de façon troublante la sensualité et le charme féminin. Bulgari vous propose donc le cadeau parfait pour la gente féminine en cette période festive ! La gamme Premium Lierac La gamme de soins visage anti-âge Premium Lierac a depuis longtemps fait ses preuves. Entre la crème best-seller voluptueuse anti-âge ou encore le sérum régénérant absolu, tous les produits de la gamme ont prouvé maintes fois leur efficacité. Néanmoins, notre coup de cœur va aujourd'hui pour leur nouveau masque tissus or anti-âge. Ultra ludique à l'utilisation, ce masque crée un film seconde peau au pouvoir reconstituant immédiat et au fini velouté sans pareil. Ainsi, dès l'application, votre grain de peau sera lissé, plus lumineux et votre visage repulpé ! Les sticks cosmétiques Milk Makeup Fraîchement débarquée chez Sephora, la marque Milk Makeup est la petite nouvelle sur le marché du cosmétique. Néanmoins, elle a d'ores et déjà fait ses preuves, proposant des produits aux formules clean et véritablement efficaces. Petit plus, la marque est contre les tests sur les animaux et 100% vegan, alors comment trouver mieux ? Nos produits chouchous : le mascara Kush High Volume pour un effet yeux de biche garanti, le stick Lip & Cheek, devenu notre nouvel indispensable maquillage, et enfin le Matcha Cleanser aka le nettoyant solide parfait pour détoxifier et purifier la peau en profondeur. Le soin capillaire absolu d'Hovig Etoyan Ce soin est véritablement la cerise sur le gâteau de cette sélection de Noël. Si vous souhaitez offrir un moment beauté unique, c'est chez Hovig Etoyan qu'il faut se diriger. D’origine libanaise, ce coiffeur manie aussi bien sa paire de ciseaux que la psychologie féminine pour sublimer ses clientes. Très intuitif, il possède un regard éclairé et aiguisé, qui lui permettra de vous sublimer en quelques coups de ciseaux. Notre coup de coeur ? Le nouveau protocole Soin Absolu, qui permet de rebooster et restaurer la fibre capillaire durablement. Il offre une hydratation immédiate et profonde du cheveu. Coup de boost assuré pour les crinières en perte de lumière et d'hydratation. N'hésitez pas à prendre contact sur son site, vous ne serez pas déçu(e)s, on vous le promet ! Grâce à cette sélection, fini la panne d'inspiration. Vous trouverez à coup sûr le fameux cadeau qui ravira votre maman, soeur, grand-mère, copine ou petite amie. Alors plus d'excuses, que le shopping commence ! Read the full article

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toutmontbeliard-com · 10 months

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Le 19, CRAC Montbéliard : programme de décembre 2023

Voici le programme du 19, Centre Régional d’Art contemporain, de Montbéliard de décembre 2023 : Fugitive, Émilie Soumba Du 2 décembre 2023 au 14 janvier 2024 au 19, Crac Vernissage + concerts Secret Signals de P.E.S*, État glaise & LordxGonzo vendredi 1er décembre à 18h30. La Box du 19 est un dispositif de soutien à la jeune création contemporaine qui invite chaque année un artiste sélectionné par un jury composé par l'équipe du 19, Crac et Stéphane Prigent en 2023 - à produire une œuvre inédite. Pour cette 8ème édition, Émilie Soumba est lauréate de l’appel à projet lancé aux étudiant·es et jeunes diplômé·es des écoles d’art des régions Bourgogne-Franche-Comté et Grand Est et l'artiste invitée à investir la Box du 19 avec son installation Fugitive à l’occasion des Lumières de Noël de la Ville de Montbéliard. Le vendredi 1er décembre, la soirée de vernissage sera suivie de trois concerts exclusifs programmés par Kerozen (Stéphane Prigent) avec le projet Secret Signals de P.E.S*, État glaise et LordxGonzo pour une soirée électronique, noise fleurtant avec l’ambient et la poésie sonore. La radio expérimentale mulhousienne Node sera également présente pour enregistrer et diffuser les concerts en direct. Fais-le toi-même si t'es pas content (F.L.T.M.S.T.P.C) Commissariat : Stéphane Prigent (Kerozen) Jusqu'au 14 janvier 2024 au 19, Crac F.L.T.M.S.T.P.C est une maison de micro-édition qui publie des livres, des fanzines et des disques. Depuis 1999, elle rassemble et diffuse les pratiques d’artistes contemporains issus de différents horizons invités, par Stéphane Prigent, à répondre à des protocoles ou aux logiques sérielles qu’il orchestre. En savoir plus sur l'exposition. Dimanches 3 décembre et 7 janvier à 15h30 : visites commentées de l'exposition, gratuit. Fermeture exceptionnelle à 16h00 les 24 et 31 décembre. Atelier DO IT Samedi 2 décembre 2023 de 15h00 À 17h00 Initiation à l’art de l’imprimé maison - photocopie, sérigraphie, façonnage - une après-midi d’atelier avec Stéphane Prigent (Kerozen), artiste et commissaire de l'exposition Fais-le toi-même si t'es pas content. Atelier sans limite d’âge. Gratuit, réservation conseillée au 03 81 94 13 47 ou [email protected] La boutique de Noël est de retour au 19, Crac ! Vinyles, cassettes, fanzines, éditions jeune public, cartes postales pop-up, livres d'artistes, goodies... Retrouvez des créations de Stéphane Prigent (Kerozen), de P.E.S*, du label SCUM YR EARTH, de François Henninger, de Lisa Guépratte, d’Élise Grenois, du collectif Badaboum, mais aussi les éditions de l'Articho ou encore les affiches du magazine Kiblind. infos > 03 81 94 13 47 ou [email protected] Read the full article

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lepetitlugourmand · 2 years

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Une page importante se tourne pour l’@hotelducastellet. Après 13 années passées aux commandes du pôle hôtelier de la Destination Castellet, Alexandra et @christophe_bacquie, ont annoncé leur départ pour un nouveau projet en Provence. Mais l’histoire de cet emblématique adresse de la haute gastronomie, du bien être et du luxe discret, continue de la plus belle des manières avec une passation en toute amitié, délicatesse et tendresse. Pour la direction, Alexandra transmet les rênes de cette superbe demeure Toscane au coeur de la Provence à Céline Risso (auparavant directrice du Cap d’Antibes Beach Hotel 5*****). @fabien.ferre, qui a exercé au côté du Chef MOF et triplement étoilé Christophe Bacquié depuis 10 ans en tant que Chef en second, devient le nouveau Chef Exécutif du superbe Relais & Châteaux. Baigné très tôt dans l’univers de la gastronomie en Bourgogne, Fabien Ferré se dirige vers la cuisine et se forme auprès de Daniel Rogié et de Jean-Michel Carette, puis au Moulin de Martorey du chef étoilé Jean-Pierre Gillot. Il décide de rejoindre la brigade de la maison Troisgros*** à Roanne, où il évoluera pendant trois années, avant de rejoindre le Sud de la France et intégrer en 2013 les équipes du Chef Bacquié en tant que Sous-Chef, avec qui il va apprendre : rigueur, technicité et ésprit d’équipe. En 2014, il remporte le Trophée de l’Espoir de l’Année par Le Chef Magazine et termine finaliste du prestigieux concours MOF 2018 et 2022. Sa cuisine est un savant mélange de ses racines bourguignonnes, qui lui ont donné l’amour des produits d’exception et du vrai, et d’une identité qui se porte par passion vers la Méditerranée et la Provence de ses intenses saveurs gorgées de soleil de légumes et des fruits du riche terroir local. Une cuisine entre force et délicatesse où le produit est l’essentiel. Dès le 15 avril, le restaurant Christian Bacquié, devient Lavinia, une table gastronomique où Fabien et ses équipes (Guillaume Cocault en cuisine et en Pâtisserie Loïc Colliau et François Luciano) délivreront toute leur force et ambition pour faire vivre une expérience inoubliable et étoilée. #hotelducastellet #christophebacquie #michelinstar #cotedazurfrance #chef (à Hotel & Spa du Castellet) https://www.instagram.com/p/CozeCsSoaP8/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#hotelducastellet #christophebacquie #michelinstar #cotedazurfrance #chef

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stefanomarra-illustrations · 7 years

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Bourgogne. Because you will need a glass of wine on Sunday. http://bit.ly/stefanomarra-series

#bourgogne #winelover #stefanomarra #illustration on tumblr #illustrazione #editorial #magazine #artwork #digital art #creation

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themummersfolly · 4 years

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New story!

Behold! A ridiculous anachronistic rabbit hole of a tale, written while I was supposed to be working on Actual Serious Stuff, now with the bare minimum of proofreading! Featuring Constable D’Albret as a 20th century Air Force general, Marie de Sully as a kickass lady boss, and John of Burgundy before he was a sociopathic asshole. I hope it’s as much fun to read as it was to write!

“Thirty-five million livres. What is it made of, pure gold?”

“Mm-hm.”

“And we’re to purchase a minimum of twenty! We didn’t spend so much in all of World War Two.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I declare, I’ve never seen this country so criminally fleeced – General, are you listening to me?”

“Of course I am.” General Charles Delabreth didn’t need to look up from his magazine to know that Berry, the Minister of Finance, was glaring down at him.

“And? Your thoughts?”

Delabreth plucked a card from the pages. “I think I’m going to renew my subscription to Popular Mechanics. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed it.”

If the intake of breath was any indication, Berry probably looked ready to explode. If there was one thing that could move the old man, it was proposed spending.

To Delabreth’s left, John Bourgogne heaved a sigh. “We’re authorized to one billion.”

“And that woman is going to take every denier of it!”

“We need the planes, Minister.” Delabreth finally looked up from his page. “The Armée de l’Air is in desperate need of an upgrade, especially with England’s saber-rattling.”

“What’s wrong with the ones we already have?”

“They’re obsolete –”

“Well, why can’t we just install new equipment?”

“For all the reasons I outlined at the budget meeting.”

Berry started to say something, but Bourgogne cut him off. “Minister, of those present in the room, which have flown sorties in the past thirty years?” Berry’s mouth snapped shut. “We need between twenty and thirty planes; we’re authorized to one billion livres. Please do the math again.”

Delabreth hid his snort of laughter in a polite cough. Bourgogne had earned the moniker “Fearless John” in the Mediterranean campaigns, and had lived up to it throughout his political career. Berry turned on his heel and stalked off to antagonize his staffers.

Bourgogne sat back, fishing in his pocket, and took out a vial of aspirin. “It’s too early for this.”

“You know Berry.” Delabreth closed his magazine. “If he weren’t here in person, he’d only be bawling at President Valois. And Valois doesn’t need that, not so soon out of the hospital.”

Bourgogne checked his watch. “It’s six past. I wonder what’s keeping them.”

“There were emergency vehicles around one of the hangars as we were coming in. There may have been some kind of accident.”

Bourgogne raised his eyebrows. “That requires the CEO’s attention?”

Delabreth was spared having to answer by the sound of footsteps in the hall. He led the others in rising to their feet as the representatives of Craon Industries entered the conference room. At their head was a tall woman in an elegant grey suit, her hair swept into a smooth, auburn knot: Marie Sully, current CEO and daughter of the late founder.

“Good morning, gentlemen, my apologies for the delay. We had an incident in one of the research labs; fortunately no one was injured.”

“An ‘incident’?” Berry seized on the phrase. “Indeed. It must have been severe to delay such an important meeting. Do these sorts of things happen often?”

Delabreth resisted the urge to put his face in his hand. He could almost hear Bourgogne’s blood pressure rising. Sully seemed unfazed.

“The risk is ever-present,” she replied, “which is why we maintain such stringent safeguards. Today, I’m proud to say that everything worked as it was supposed to, and we suffered neither injuries nor losses.”

Berry seemed to deflate slightly. He hadn’t anticipated the answer or the poise with which it was given.

“Well said,” Delabreth offered. “It’s good to know we’re working with someone who places such a high value on safety and security.”

“Thank you, General.” She nodded politely to him. “Now, to business. You’re here to discuss the newest generation of Mirage fighter jets…”

“We’d like to offer Craon Industries a renewed contract for thirty of the new jets.” As usual, Bourgogne went straight to the matter at hand. “Fifteen to be delivered in the next two years, and the rest to follow in five.”

“Minister Bourgogne, you are aware that the manufacturing cost per unit is nearly twenty million livres. And that’s besides the cost for research and development –”

“And I assume you’re aware, Miss Sully, that the Ministry of Defense has several other bidders for this contract?” Berry puffed, back on the attack. “Bidders who are offering a significantly more competitive price?”

Bourgogne’s face took on a blank look of restrained temper. Sully’s smile turned icy.

“Bidders that can produce a competitive replacement for the Mirage III?”

“Yes, and who are patriotic enough to put the needs of the country ahead of their own profits!”

Bourgogne sat down and put his face in his hand. Sully stared at the old minister for a moment, then closed her folder with a snap.

“Well then, I apologize for wasting your time with this meeting. You gentlemen have a lovely rest of your day.” And with that she turned and swept out of the room, her stunned entourage following.

“She’ll be back,” said Berry, into the silence. “You see, that’s what happens when you put a woman in charge. You can’t deal with them like you can with a man, you have to be firm.”

Bourgogne raised his head to glare at him. “Berry, when we get back to Paris, I swear to God…”

“Not in public.” Delabreth cut him off. He turned to Berry. “Shut up and stay here.”

“Where are you going?”

He paused at the double doors. “I’m going to try to undo some of the damage you just did.”

Sully and her team hadn’t gone far; the hall still echoed with their footsteps. The murmur of conversation drifted back, voices fast and sharp.

“Madame! Madame Sully.” He caught up to them at the elevators. “Wait. We didn’t intend to cut the meeting short.”

“Oh? Did you have more insults to heap on my employees and our product?” Sully’s eyes flashed. Several of the engineers shuffled nervously; others glared at Delabreth in a mirror of their CEO’s anger. “Did you think you were going to get a discount that way?”

“Madame, the nation needs these planes, and I’m sure Craon Industries needs the contract –”

“Not that badly. Go talk to your other bidders. Our price just doubled.”

Ding. The elevator doors began to slide open. Sully turned on her heel and stopped short. The elevator was already occupied. Two men, one in a business suit and the other in a janitor’s jumpsuit; they had apparently been talking, and looked up with wide eyes at the interruption.

“Shit,” they said at the same time.

Before Delabreth could wonder what that was supposed to mean, both men leapt from the elevator.

“Everybody back! Everybody get back!”

Where the hell had the guns come from? The janitor seized Sully by the arm – her mouth hung open in indignation – while his comrade swept the crowd with a machine pistol.

“Come on –”

“What are you doing – let go of me –”

“Get on the ground! I’m serious!”

“What’s going on out there?” Bourgogne and Berry were in the hall, staring at the scene.

“Stay back!” the businessman screamed and grabbed Delabreth’s sleeve. He had a split second to contemplate fighting back before the cold muzzle of a gun behind his ear put that notion to rest. “I’ll do it! I’ll blow his head off!”

“Everyone stay calm.” Delabreth held out his hands. He was already running the odds, sealing his panic away at the bottom of his mind. “Why don’t you gentlemen let the lady go, and I’ll go with you instead?”

“Shut up!” The muzzle jabbed against his skull and he winced.

“General…” Bourgogne glanced from Berry to the engineers to the gunmen, sizing up relative positions, lines of fire, behavior. Doing the math.

“Easy –”

“Yeah, listen to him.” The businessman yanked him by the arm, dragging him towards the elevator. His cohort had blocked the doors open. “Stay back, stay way back, or they both die! You want that? No? Then stay back!”

Delabreth allowed himself to be pulled past the doors. He made eye contact with Bourgogne and nodded. Trust me. You do your part, I’ll do mine. The doors slid shut and sealed them in.

“You bastard, I know you!” Sully had recovered her voice. “You’re that new transfer in finance. I had to sign off on your clearance myself!” She glared at the businessman. The janitor, who stood a full head shorter than her, leveled a pistol at her.

“You want to die, lady?”

“Zip it, Jacques,” the businessman snarled. “And you – both of you – stay calm and don’t give us any trouble, and you get to live through this.”

Delabreth raised his hands. The businessman had an accent – English? Faint, but it was there. “Alright, no trouble.” He glanced at Sully, willing her to play along, but she was still glaring at their captors. “I’m impressed at how far you gentlemen have come. You must be serving a noble cause to have accomplished so much.”

Ding. Both captors jumped. From the corner of his eye, Delabreth caught the floor number as the elevator stopped: Basement.

“No trouble,” the businessman repeated. He seized Delabreth by the collar, jammed the machine pistol between his shoulder blades, and marched him into the corridor.

Through the elevator lobby, down a hall, through a side door that led to a service corridor and a downward flight of stairs. They encountered no one, which Delabreth considered fortunate. As they made their way into the bowels of the building, Sully kept up her tirade.

“It was your friend we caught in the labs, wasn’t it? I knew there was something suspicious, the way you’ve been prowling around here after hours. I should have put security on your tail the first time! How long has your little spy ring been planning this? You didn’t plan well enough. He never made it to the first clean room! Francois – is that even your real name?”

They reached the bottom of the stairwell and passed into the empty corridor beyond it. The businessman – Francois – stopped and turned to face her.

“We have two hostages right now, lady. Keep it up and we’ll make do with one.”

Sully glowered at him. Delabreth managed to catch her eye and shook his head.

“Yeah, listen to the big shot, here.” Francois, his hand still twisted in the back of Delabreth’s collar, opened the nearest door and shoved him inside. Jacques and Sully followed. It was an access room for the building’s fire control and air conditioning systems. Delabreth tried to surreptitiously scan for anything they could use to their benefit, while Sully snarled at their captors over the machine noise.

“If you think this is going to bring down Craon Industries, think again.”

“If that were at all compatible with what I’m getting paid for,” Francois snapped back, “I’d do it in a heartbeat.” He motioned with his gun, and the two men dragged their captives into the far corner of the room. “Sit.”

“If you gentlemen would let me make a call – intercede for you – I’m sure we could work something out –”

“I said sit.”

Delabreth found himself forcibly sat down on an overturned crate. Francois produced a set of handcuffs, which he passed behind a pipe running floor to ceiling along the wall. One cuff he clapped around Sully’s wrist, the other around Delabreth’s.

“Stay here. Jacques, watch the door.” Francois peered out of the door, then slipped back into the corridor.

Delabreth tugged experimentally at the restraint. With the bulk and noise of the water chiller between them and their captors, Sully turned her wrath on her fellow captive.

“I’m sure we can work something out, you must serve a noble cause,” she said in a nasal mockery of his words. “Why don’t you ask for his hand in marriage?”

“I’m trying to keep us alive,” Delabreth snapped. “Stop making that so difficult!” Sully’s nostrils flared, but she didn’t answer. “If we can get them talking and establish a rapport, we might get some useful information. They might even let their guard down for a moment.”

“And then what? We make a run for it? While handcuffed to the sprinkler feed?”

“I’ll think of something.”

Sully huffed. “I’d have thought a general would show more backbone. But it figures you’d be willing to play along with them – you can always go to whoever they sell the plans to. You’ll probably get your planes cheap from them.”

Delabreth’s anger at the personal jab fizzled out. “You think this is corporate espionage?”

“What else would it be? Our competitors are ruthless bastards.”

“This isn’t corporate. Whatever’s going on here – it’s international. That man – Francois? He isn’t French.”

“Of course not, he’s Belgian.”

“He’s not Belgian, either. He’s English. He’s done a lot of work, hiding his accent, but it’s still there. And the way they’re panicking – they’re desperate. They’re not looking at breaking and entering charges, they’re looking at treason.”

Sully gaped at him.

“My God,” she finally managed.

Delabreth glanced toward the door, to where their captor stood. The chiller nearly concealed him, but enough was visible to tell he was turned toward the exit, more intent on his comrade’s return than on his prisoners.

“How good is your security team?”

“You should know. Most of them are veterans of your military.” The truth had been a shock, but it hadn’t dulled Sully’s sharpness. Delabreth nodded.

“And police should be nearby, if not still on site. Bourgogne will have the sense to link them up with our own detail. From there it should be a simple matter of locating and extracting us.”

“You call this simple?”

“As opposed to safe or easy. But he’s got the necessary experience.”

Sully twisted her hand in the cuff. “And us?”

“We stay alive. And glean as much information from them as we can. If they die in a shootout, they take what they know to the grave, and we have no idea how deep this operation goes.”

At that moment, Jacques peered around the edge of the chiller.

“No more chit-chat!” He came toward them. “Either of you get smart and try something, I’ll put a bullet in your skull.”

Sully had apparently taken Delabreth seriously. She swallowed and settled for glaring daggers at the floor.

“We understand,” Delabreth said.

“Better hope you do.” Jacques gestured with his pistol. “You know, bringing you two along wasn’t part of the plan, but I’m glad we did. Especially you.” He jabbed his muzzle at Delabreth, who blinked.

“Do I know you?”

The little man flushed. “You fucker – you’d better!” His voice was rising. “You ended my career! Croci Airbase, five years ago! Ring any bells?”

“Were you… you’re not that fellow they caught stealing ammunition to sell, were you?”

Jacques loomed over him, his face inches away. “I spent a year in that hellhole of a prison! You ruined my life!” He raised the butt of the pistol as if to strike. Delabreth stiffened; Sully must have flinched, because the cuff at his wrist bit painfully into his skin. For a long moment their captor held the weapon upraised. Then he seemed to think better of it. “When Francois says we’re done with you, you’re mine,” he snarled, before stalking back to his post.

The general let out a breath. Sully stared, wide-eyed.

“What, did you have him cashiered out or something?”

“Nobody got cashiered,” Delabreth muttered. “I wouldn’t have remembered it at all except for how angry his commanding officer was when he reported it to me.”

“He obviously remembers.”

“Apparently not well enough, since he’s still at it.”

Sully stared at the ground, tucked her feet close to her crate, smoothed her skirt. Through the handcuff chain, Delabreth felt her shiver.

“Alright, General.” Her voice was tense, but steady. “Tell me what you need me to do. If you have a plan, I’ll follow your lead.”

“Right now all we can do is wait. I don’t think we’ll have much luck talking to Jacques, there; Francois seems to be the voice of reason. It’s just a question of whether he’ll come back before Bourgogne finds us.”

“What happens if he does?”

“Duck and cover, and pray the bullets miss us.”

“Great.” Sully hugged her knees with her free arm.

“Damn, why can’t I remember that fellow’s name?”

“Who, Jacques?”

“Yes – his real name. I should know it.”

“Why does it matter?”

“It just bothers me when I can’t remember a soldier’s name, even an ex-soldier. I can all but see his papers in front of me, why can’t I… Tobin.” He nodded. “It was Tobin, Corporal Tobin. Can think of his first name, but it wasn’t Jacques.”

“Figures. Well, this is lovely: handcuffed together in a basement by two ex-employees who hate us. Delightful.”

Delabreth’s chuckle died on his lips as their captor took a step back, away from the cover of the machine. The general looked down, careful to avoid his gaze. The situation didn’t seem so humorous anymore.

When “Jacques” had moved out of sight again, Delabreth chanced a look at his fellow captive. Sully stared off into space, a crease between her brows, her mouth pulled down and tight. He felt a pang of remorse.

“I’m sorry you got pulled into this.”

“It was pretty much inevitable once things got started. But you shouldn’t have to be here.”

“If it keeps you from being alone with these two, I can deal with it.”

Sully glanced at him, managed a half-smile. “I appreciate it.”

Delabreth cast about for something else to say, anything to keep the rising dread at bay. “Do you have any family?”

“A son, Georges. By my first marriage.”

“I didn’t know you were married.”

“I was, to Guy Tremoille.”

“I knew Tremoille. A good officer.”

“Well… we didn’t work out.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It happens, I suppose. What about you? Are you married?”

“No. Thought about it once or twice, but it was never meant to be. Besides, I spent the last few decades chasing after my career. Wouldn’t have made me a good family man.”

“But you’re mostly in France, now, aren’t you?”

“Yes, well…”

“It’s not so bad, you know, being married. It just takes work. Any two people can be married, if they’re willing to put in the effort. It’s a bit like a long-term business deal. You have to be willing to hold up your end of the bargain.”

“Well, given my most recent experience with business deals, I don’t think I’d be good at marriage, either.”

Sully pursed her lips, thinking. “It wasn’t your fault, you know. And if you hadn’t tried to make things right, I’d be stuck down here alone.”

Delabreth shifted so he was more or less facing her. “We really do need those planes. If we make it through this – if you’re willing – I’d like to start over.”

“Yes, ‘if.’ We can say I owe you.”

“Berry doesn’t have to be in the room.”

“Berry can be in the room, you just have to keep him under control.”

“Indeed. I’ll find a reason for him to send a representative.”

Their captor shuffled half into sight and they fell silent.

Minutes dragged by. The giant chillers, responsible for cooling the rest of the building, did nothing for the utility room, and Delabreth began to feel the weight of his dress uniform. He thought longingly of water, then of the bottle of armagnac in his office.

“When this is over,” he muttered to Sully, “drinks are on me –”

Rat. Tat. The shots were barely audible over the machine roar. Tat, tat-tat. Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat. Delabreth froze. Their captor ducked out of sight, checking the door.

“God,” muttered Sully. Her hand nudged his; they both glanced down at the cuffs, then Sully slipped her hand into his. “It's childish, I know.”

“When the bullets start flying, we all turn into scared children.” Delabreth gave her hand a squeeze. He focused on his breathing, willed his racing heart to pace itself. They couldn't run, couldn't fight, couldn't do anything – yet. He could feel Sully shaking from the nerves.

RAT-TAT TATTATTAT TAT-TAT-TAT RATTATTATTAT TAT. Gunfire – close. In the stairwell? Someone clattered and scuffled at the door, and Francois stumbled into sight, clutching his abdomen – bleeding. He collapsed just past the chiller.

“Put down your weapons. Send out the hostages, and then come out with your hands up.” Delabreth didn't recognize the voice, but he knew Bourgogne's tactics when he heard them.

“Almost there,” he muttered to Sully.

Francois lay where he had fallen. “Jacques” stepped over him, backing away from the door. He caught sight of the captives and his face twisted. He threw a last glance at the body of his comrade and started their way.

“Not going down like this – this isn't over –”

Sully let out an “eep” of fear.

“Shut up, bitch!” He swept her with the gun barrel before bringing it to bear on Delabreth. “I'm taking you with me!”

Delabreth stared up the barrel, faintly surprised that he hadn't felt the bullet yet. His mind entered the surreal focus of battle.

“Put the gun down, Corporal Tobin. You don't want to do this.”

At the sound of his real name, the man faltered and almost complied. A second later he doubled down.

“The fuck I don't! I owe you a fucking bullet!”

“You pull the trigger and your life is over. Put the weapon down, surrender, and tell them what you know. I can guarantee you a plea deal – I'm a man of my word.” He felt no more fear than he had discussing the aircraft budget. He had let go of Sully's hand at some point. All the world shrank to Delabreth, Tobin, and the gun held shaking in the latter's hands.

“You were in a non-combat post most of your career, weren't you, Tobin? You've never killed before.” There was no censure in the statement, no mockery. “I don't recommend the experience.”

“I'm not a coward.” Tobin mouthed the words, then screamed: “I'm not a coward!” His eyes bulged. He shoved the barrel at Delabreth's face –

Something lashed out from the corner of his vision –

Tobin fell to his knees with a howl, dropping the gun. Sully let go of her shoe – she had struck him with the heel, hard enough to leave a ruddy stain up the side of his knee – and grabbed the weapon.

“Die in a fire, bastard!” she yelled, struggling to get a proper grip without sweeping Delabreth. He seized the opportunity and kicked out, catching Tobin in the head, dropping him.

“Is he dead?” Sully panted. She had finally gotten the pistol grip into her hand.

“Hell, I don't know. If he moves, shoot him.” Delabreth grabbed the front of Tobin's jumpsuit and tried to pull him closer. “He must have a handcuff key – Bourgogne, hold your fire! We're alright!”

“I'll get us loose.” Sully pulled the handcuff chain taught, put the barrel to the links.

“No, that's not a good idea –”

BANG. Delabreth jerked back and toppled off his crate, one half of the cuffs still on his wrist. The bullet had taken a chunk out of the wall. He ran his hands over his body, feeling for shrapnel wounds: nothing. Sully sat dazed, blinking at the weapon in her hand.

“Are you hurt?” he shouted over the ringing in his ears.

“What?” She shouted back.

Bourgogne – he'll have heard the shot.

“Watch him,” he gestured to Sully. She nodded, kicked off her remaining shoe, and trained the gun on the unconscious man. Delabreth ran forward and seized the machine pistol Francois had dropped.

“This is Delabreth! The scene is secured. I'm opening the door.” Without taking his eyes off Francois, he pushed open one half of the double doors. Almost immediately an armored security agent filled the gap. Delabreth backed away while others entered the room, sweeping it for threats.

“Sully's there.” He jerked his head. “She's not hurt. She's got the other subject.”

“You took your time,” Sully called, still louder than was necessary.

“Madame, if you please.” One of the officers held out a hand warily, beckoning for her gun. Everyone was still jumpy.

“What? Oh – of course.” She turned the weapon and handed it off.

“Are you injured?”

“Oh, no, no. Although my shoes have seen better days.” An officer stooped to retrieve them and she waived him off. “I suspect you'll want those as evidence.”

Ignoring their confused looks, she stepped around Tobin's prone form and joined Delabreth. He had just handed off his own weapon when Bourgogne entered the room.

“Charles – thank God! I thought you were a goner for sure.” He glanced between the two, taking in the broken handcuffs, the confiscated weapons, the fallen attackers. “But it looks like you had things sorted out on your own.”

“You came just in time, Bourgogne.” Delabreth noticed Sully was shivering. He took off his jacket and settled it around her shoulders. “I'm ready to give my statement as soon as there's an investigator ready to take it. You should do the same,” he added to Sully.

“Certainly. And we need to schedule a time to complete the negotiations.”

“The –” Delabreth and Bourgogne stared at her.

“Regarding the planes,” she prompted.

“Ah. Well...” Bourgogne glanced between the two again. Delabreth shook his head.

“There's no hurry, madame. You been through a lot today.”

“Oh pish, I won't give these wretches the satisfaction. We can meet tomorrow if you're still in town. Or tonight, if you don't mind settling things over drinks.” Her smile was warm, almost cheeky.

“Well, I think we should hold off signing anything until we're all a little less rattled, but I don't see why you two can't conduct your own, er, private negotiations.” Bourgogne's smile absolutely was cheeky. Sully was gracious enough to overlook it.

“I do owe you drinks,” Delabreth admitted.

“Bourgogne, you're welcome to join us.”

“Oh, I might stop by for a bit, but I'd hate to be a third wheel.”

“I'll see you at eight, then, shall I?” Sully reached out and took his hand, his free one this time. To his own surprise, he raised it to his lips.

“Until then, Madame Sully.”

“Marie.” She smiled. “Between us, it's Marie.” She handed him back his jacket and turned to the door. “Inspector – it is inspector, isn't it? Good, I need to reassure my people. Shall I do that before or after I give my statement? Oh, and there's a pair of flats in my office, if you'll be so kind as to send someone to get them...”

Delabreth stared after her. Bourgogne circled behind him, chuckling.

“Nothing like a little hand-to-hand combat to smooth things over, eh?”

“You can tell Valois not to worry. I think we're going to get those planes after all.”

“I think you're going to get a lot more than planes.” Bourgogne smirked and shook his head. “You know, most men usually stick to flowers and chocolates when they want to impress a woman. Valois was right about you; you always were a little over the top.”

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angelicafrances-blog · 5 years

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Les principaux journaux

Journaux nationaux 20Minutes France-Soir L'Equipe L'Humanité L'Obs Le Figaro Le Journal du Dimanche Le Monde Le Parisien Les Echos Libération

Journaux régionaux Centre-Presse (Poitou-Charentes) CharenteLibre (Poitou-Charentes) Corse-Matin Dernières Nouvelles d'Alsace L'Alsace L'Avenir de l'Artois (Nord-Pas-de-Calais) La Dépêche (Midi-Pyrénées) La Marseillaise (Bouches-du-Rhône) La Montagne (Auvergne) La Nouvelle République du Centre Ouest La Provence La République du Centre La Semaine dans le Boulonnais (Nord-Pas-de-Calais) La Voix du Nord Le Bien Public (Bourgogne) L'Écho de la Lys (Nord-Pas-de-Calais) Le Dauphiné Libéré (Rhône-Alpes) Le Courrier de l'Ouest (Poitou-Charentes) Le Journal de la Haute-Marne (Champagne-Ardenne) Le Journal de Montreuil (Nord-Pas-de-Calais) Le Journal du Centre (Bourgogne) Le Progrès (Rhône-Alpes) Le Républicain Lorrain Le Réveil de Berck (Nord-Pas-de-Calais) L'Est Éclair (Champagne-Ardenne) L'Est Républicain (Lorraine) Le Télégramme (Bretagne) Les Echos du Touquet (Nord-Pas-de-Calais) L'Indépendant (Languedoc-Roussillon) L'Union L'Ardennais (Champagne Ardenne Picardie) L'Yonne (Bourgogne)Midi Libre Nice Matin Ouest-France Paris-Normandie Sud Ouest Var Matin

Magazines Charlie Hebdo Gala L'Express La Semaine du Pays Basque La Vie du Rail Le Canard Enchaîné le Monde Diplomatique Le Nouvel Economiste Le Point Marianne en ligne Paris-Match Télérama Voici

Portails et Liens Agence France Presse Google News France Reuters France

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dijonbeaune · 12 days

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Hospices de Beaune, Libération... Bourgogne Magazine n°81 est dans les bacs !

Le nouveau numéro de Bourgogne Magazine est sorti. À retrouver dans les kiosques de la région et sur bourgognemagazine.com ! Par Geoffroy Morhainrédacteur en chef de Bourgogne Magazine « Si la Bourgogne est aujourd’hui pleinement intégrée à l’intérieur des frontières de l’État français, unie à son historique rivale comtoise sur une carte régionale redessinée, il n’en a pas toujours été de même.…

#bourgogne magazine

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bouxmounir · 2 years

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ce produit est à commander en urgence chez Lidl magazine

Les sites en question sont situés dans le Grand Est et en Bourgogne-Franche-Comté. Suite à un contrôle, a noté la présence de Listeria monocytogenes. Les magazines de l’Est de la France sont concernés Attention si vous avez acheté le jambon coupé dans un magazine Lidl. La marque Discount est actuellement en train de lancer une campagne de descente en rappel pour le deuxième Lamb Rouge Saint Alby…

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thoughtsofanighthawk · 6 years

Photo

I am strong, I am brave, I am capable. So I try to keep telling myself every single day. Because life doesn’t stop and neither should I. I need to keep going and find the strength within me to do so. Sometimes I even get a little bit of help from comfort dishes such as this butternut squash burger featured in the latest issue of the @slowlyveggie magazine, which I slightly reviewed as I used Mont d’Or cheese instead of cheddar and made my own burger chickpea flour and pumpkin seeds roll. ✨🍔 • Je suis forte, je suis courageuse, je suis capable. C’est ce que j’essaie de me répéter chaque jour. Parce que la vie ne s’arrête pas et moi je ne devrais pas non plus. Je dois continuer à avancer et trouver la force en moi de le faire. Parfois j’ai même un petit peu d’aide de plats réconfort comme ce burger à la courge butternut présenté dans le dernier numéro du magazine @slowlyveggie, que j’ai légèrement revu puisque j’ai utilisé du Mont d’Or plutôt que du cheddar et ai réalisé mon propre petit pain à burger à la farine de pois chiches et graines de courge. 🍔🧡 . . #veggie #veggieburger #slowlyveggie #marieskitchencrew #food #veggiefood #veggierecipe #veggiemeal #butternutsquash #chickpeaflourroll #pumpkinseeds #healthyburger #veggielife #edrecovery #anorexiarecovery #montdor (à Bourgogne, France) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bo1udSklcur/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1l0wvmuk4qhpq

#veggie #veggieburger #slowlyveggie #marieskitchencrew #food #veggiefood #veggierecipe #veggiemeal #butternutsquash #chickpeaflourroll #pumpkinseeds #healthyburger #veggielife #edrecovery #anorexiarecovery #montdor

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nanshe-of-nina · 6 years

Conversation

People of the Caroline phase of the Hundred Years War as dril tweets

Edward III of England: im a marine & accomplished scholar. my sons were alchemized into helicopter fuel to serve their armed brothers. how dare u post penis to me.

Charles V de France: the Digimon Otis peace treaty will hence be frozen in piss and thrown onto the freeway where itll shatter into one million despicable pieces

Richard II of England: i rise; spreading my arms, exuding fluorescent spheres of energy, each representing an Unfollower, Cuasing me a great deal of pain,Screaming

Charles VI de France: how to convince my uncles to combine into one superuncle so that i only have to buy one christmas card? how to do it? how to ddo this? how

Edward the Black Prince: #worstfeeling dying of dehydration caused by diarrhea in a third world nation ravaged by warfare with no doctors #bestfeeling halo 4 odst

Joan of Kent: my big sons have made a mess of the garage again after being riled up by the good word of the Lord.

Lionel of Antwerp, 1st Duke of Clarence: someone please. ive bitten into a nasty apple and I don’t know how to spit things out of my mouth. ivr never spit before and i need help.

Louis Iᵉʳ, duc d’Anjou: me and the boys pooled together our total life savings of $1789.34 in a last ditch effort to rescue the failing quiznos brand from the brink

Marie de Blois: never brought this up due to Trolls, but my son is set to graduate from ITT tech next semester after 8 years of hard work and im very proud.

John of Gaunt, 1st Duke of Lancaster: im not cut out to be a content producer!! fuck thtis!! i want to go back to just looking at everyone else’s content and nodding if its good

Constanza de Castilla: abusing my vile neighbors by putting leaflets around which state that i am now to be referred to as “Daddy’s Golden Goose”.

Jehan, duc de Berry: ACCOUNTANT: I Just don’t know how you can justify donating $700 to “Chips Ahoy” ME: i hope your car flips & becomes your fucking firey grave

Edmund of Langley, 1st Duke of York: damn it to piss. my wife replaced all of my anti-wife reading materials with Pro-Wife bullshit

Isabel de Castilla: I Just Want 2 Have Sex On This Site All The Time With Out Havin To Argue With Peopl And Deal With People Cryin And Shit #WiseWordsToLiveBy

Philippe II, duc de Bourgogne: the first step to becoming a Millionaire is to acquire one hundred dollars

Thomas of Woodstock, 1st Duke of Gloucester: when you do sutuff like... shoot my jaw clean off of my face with a sniper rifle, it mostly reflects poorly on your self

Henry Bolingbroke: DAD: your baby brothers missing, please put down the controller. help us find him ME: Did u read the news. Gaming is a legitinmate hobby now

Louis, duc d’Orléans: my uncle called me a Loser on television way before this guy’;s uncle did it @cnn @reuters @infowars @gameinformer

Edward of Norwich, 2nd Duke of York: my cousin was charged with arson(Bullshit) , and i was thinking we could all help out by drawing up some memes to display in his prison cell.

Pope Innocent VI: i am above choosing sides here. i hope they either become friends & cancel the match, or beat each other completely to death simultaneously ....

Isabelle de Valois, duchesse de Bourbon: my son has been combing his hair without permission. how do i cope with the pain.

John Chandos: i truly hate winning the infamous “Darwin Award” by getting bombarded with artillery fire in the Super K-Mart parking lot

Bertrand du Guesclin: PEOPLE MAG: which pop culture icon are u going to Slaughter next... ME: I have set my sights on “The Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy of Company B.”

William of Wykeham: im sorry but, when you people reply to my posts with things like “Fuck you” and “Fuck your Account” it makes me look like a real dumb ass.

Robert Knolles: spend a lot of time thinking about how sometimes even war criminals can be heroes sometimes... Dont like it? Click the unfollow buttobn

Jehan III de Grailly: JUDGE: i'll commute 10 yrs from ur sentence if you kiss my gavel ME: no. i will do the time i deserve and thats the truth and also nuff said

Arnaud de Cervole: i spend lots of time thinking about how many of my depraved, miserable followers would murder me if they could get away with it #SocialMedia.

Owen Lawgoch: oh nothin, i was just buying some ear medication for my sick uncle... *LOWERS SHADES TO LOOK YOU DEAD IN THE EYE* who's a Model by the way,

Seguin de Badefol: id like to report a hacker. he offered me 1000000 to show my dick and didnt cough up the dough when i delivered the goods. i got hacked

Louis II, comte de Flandre: I will be your Father. I will take you as my Son and teach you the ways of online. We will hold hands as our follower count reaches infinity.

Gaston III, comte de Foix: my disrespectful teen son somehow got hold of a gluten product and now he wants to become a cat girl

Charles II de Navarre: everyone on this site thinks they’re hard core but i bet if they took poison to weaken their bodies i would win fights against them handily

Jehan II, comte d’Armagnac: as a small business owner i think its bulshit that i have to give 30% of my income to Spain just because obama lost a swordfight to some Fag.

Jehan Froissart: im rwriting a script about a smart and handsome army man cop who murders civilians but wants to stop murdering civilians because hes in love.

Arnaud Amanieu, seigneur d’Albret: im good old southern boy and we dont cotton to bollocks .

John Minsterworth: its me again, from the website. admit that the berenstain bears are for adults or i will strategically headbutt your father to death.

Jehan IV, duc de Bretagne: my trolls & detractors all have gross mental issues. they love drama and are all jealous of my precious army man blood #truth #SorryNotSorry.

Peter de la Mare: come. I SHall lead the charge against corrupt Game developers, (Falls face forward ansd a variety of ass medicines spill out of my clothing).

Enrique de Trastámara: i am only here to field questions regarding my presidential bid. i will not discuss my ongoing project, tentatively titled “Aids Mario.”

Pedro I de Castilla: have you ever wanted to click X on a bastard

Tiphaine Raguenel: THE SUN THE MOON AND THE STARS ARE ALL TOO SMUG FOR MY LIKING

Olivier V de Clisson: unloading an entire belt of ammo at me with a minigun or some such device will now get you “Blocked”

Louis II, duc de Bourbon: may god help you if you trip your feet against my handsome bulk while i am sitting on the floor looking at Depression things on my tablet pc.

Jehan de Vienne: for every year that He is not featured in Forbes Magazine as the worlds richest man... GOD will sink one of our battle ships

Louis de Sancerre: i dress as a medieval knight and pummel my metal body with cymbals to get all 59 of my pit dogs riled up before i fling lawn chairs at them

John Hastings, 2nd Earl of Pembroke: my favorite feature of this site is absolutely no consequences for my opinions sucking ffucking ass and me being 100% wrong about everything

Pierre de Craon: the facts are thuis: i accidentally did benghazi while trying to steal nfl broadcasts and im sorry about it. this is a stressful year for me.

Alice Perrers: (sniffing a crumpled up one dollar bill i found on the floor of a dog kennel) ah.. thats greenbacks baby

Ambrosio Boccanegra: somebody please Bribe me

#hundred years' war #medieval #dril #middle ages #english history #french history #european history #history

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omagazineparis · 4 months

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Offrez des moments de détente avec des cadeaux beauté sensationnels.

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