#louis mérante

[doctorstrangeaskblog]

Look at an image of Louis Mérante from Leap...he looks very very very similar to strange...

Indeed. Well, I have white hair strands.

[livehorsesartpage]

The Secret Garden Non/Disney animated trailer

A Non/Disney fan trailer mix of the Warner Brother Company's movie: "The Secret Garden" Happy Spring Equinnox to the North Hemisphere! Due that last Sunday was the Laetare Sunday, which it's less strict than the other days within Lent, and because the Solemnity of Saint Joseph was celebrated this year on March 20, displaced by that said Sunday and my birthday's celebration weekend lands this week, I'm taking a little break from my Lent resolution and I bring you this trailer, as a Spring Equinnox and early Birthday Special. 

The Secret Garden movie of 1993 is a Spring/Easter classic of our Familiar Cinema Club. It's a special and heartwarming story about the importance of nature, friendship, and letting children be children. I thought The Little Prince (and in this case the 2015 movie) had some of that message too, and I wanted to make a mix with it, along with some secondary characters from Ballerina/Leap, another french production with a simillar animation, to complete the cast. 

Fan cast: 

Mary Lennox: The Girl (The Little Prince) 

Mrs. Medlock: Régine Lehaut (Ballerina/Leap!) 

Colin Craven: The Little Prince (The Little Prince) 

Dickon Sowerby: Victor Hubert (Ballerina/Leap!) 

Lord Archivald Craven: Louis Mérante (Ballerina/Leap!) 

This is fanmade and for entertainment only and I don’t want to own the copyrights. The copyrights belongs to their respective owners. 

[livehorses]

Oh great! (Sarcastic tone of voice) now animated Benedict Cumberbatch as Doctor Strange looks a LOT more like animated Louis Mérante and now I can't unsee it! Thanks Marvel...

[ballerinaleapmovie]

In the10 year difference when odette started working at the Opera as a cleaner would she be offered that job or is you know choosing tht job

Hello, thanks for the ask! 😃 This page was a bit dead lately. 😅

Well, I imagine, if I was Odette, I would avoid by all means to be in a place where all my past as a dancer chases me and brings back painful memories. Also, Odette would try to avoid meeting with certain professor with who she ruined a genuine relationship.

I bet she didn't have any other choice as both Vacourbeil and Mérante insisted her to accept the job and she needed money to sustain her needs (maybe even the salary she received from Régine was so little...)

[ksenia-franz]

RUS: «Они забрали её...» - единственное, что смогла прошептать Одетта прежде, чем дать волю своим эмоциям.

Земля уходила из-под ног, и ей казалось, что ещё мгновение, и она упадёт в бездну собственного отчаяния. Но Мерант крепко сжимал её в своих объятиях, и на одно мгновение... лишь на одно мгновение она поверила, что всё ещё можно вернуть назад.

ENG: "They took her..." was the only thing Odette could whisper before giving vent to her emotions.

The ground was slipping away from under her feet, and it seemed to her that in another moment she would fall into the abyss of her own despair. He held her tightly in his arms, and for a moment... only for a moment did she believe that everything could still be brought back.

https://ficbook.net/readfic/11217239

https://fanfics.me/fic167431

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34249123

https://fanfiction.net/s/13965976

https://www.instagram.com/p/CUkBqH6NOSB/?utm_medium=share_sheet

[christopherleefan]

Louis Mérante from Leap! (2016)

Bonus:

I think I've fallen in love *.* He looks so much like Christopher <3

Thank You @littleladybaker​

[jomiddlemarch]

A Chatelaine in her tower

Louis cursed himself as he climbed the stairs. He paused after the second flight, setting the heavy basket down on the spotless landing, and took a deep breath; all he smelled was the faint soapiness of the polished floor wax and the fresh fragrance of the baguette that he tucked into the basket last. There was no mustiness, no scent of old, sun-warmed dust or the slow, subtle decay of whatever items had been stored in the attic and he understood that meant Odette had dealt with what she had found and put it all to rights. At least Félicie would have helped before she ran off to her classes, her ribbons properly tied now, her auburn hair secured in a netted bun—she would have helped as much as Odette let her, which he knew was every day less so that the young ballerina could spend her energies on her lessons, her practice, the essential chatter among the girls that made the corps work as one and the prima stand apart.

 He rapped lightly on the door, the basket beside his feet. He heard Odette moving in the room, the staccato tap of her stick, and then the creak of the unoiled hinges as she opened the door and faced him.

 “Bonjour,” she said, taking in the slight flush on his cheeks, his parted lips, the loaf of bread announcing itself like a staked spear. She offered nothing. He must ask before he might give.

 “Bonjour, Odette. May I come in?” She paused before she nodded and stepped aside so he could walk in. She had not smiled and he wished she would.

 “I hope this is not an imposition,” he began.

 “That depends on what you intend, no?” she replied evenly.

 “I’ve brought you something, as you can see,” he said, unable to keep from gesturing at the basket. She lifted an eyebrow, blew out her breath softly.

 “I don’t need charity, I don’t need your pity,” she said, her voice clipped, with none of the lovely richness of the night when he had kissed her once again, finally again. None of the amusement or pleasure of the days that followed, when they spoke of Félicie’s classes, the other students, the long-sought volume she had from the bookseller’s stall, the shape of the clouds over Notre-Dame.

 “I don’t pity you, Odette. I love you. I’m in love with you,” he exclaimed, all in a rush as if he were a rude youth, younger and stupider than Félicie’s Victor, than he had ever sounded talking to any other woman.

“I’m in love with you,” he repeated, more slowly, so there could be no mistake. He watched her as she bit her lip and shifted on her feet. She gripped her stick tighter and he felt the sudden urge to take a hold of her slender waist, to steady her and draw her closer. It would be the ruin of everything; he resisted and instead, spoke again.

 “You’re not eating enough. I can see it in your face,” he said. He hadn’t looked at her for such a long time and then he had and wondered at why he had ever stopped. And then he had noticed, though she smiled more, the shadows beneath her eyes were darker and her cheekbones more pronounced.

 “You needn’t look at me if it is too bad. If I’ve become too ugly,” she said. She gazed over his shoulder, at some distant point, and he knew it was only pride that kept her from dropping her eyes, from turning her face away. He let himself act as he wanted to, walked the few steps and took her in his arms.

 “You’re beautiful, ma caille, I cannot stop looking at you—and then I saw, I saw what you are doing,” he said softly. She blinked at him with those blue eyes of hers that were like the sky, always the same, always changing. “You are giving your meals to Félicie, a larger share every day, you are hardly eating anything at all. You are doing extra work to buy her what she needs. Please, Odette, please let me help.”

 “Louis,” she said, then surprised him by laying her head against his chest. It was some sort of agreement, all the argument gone out of her. When he glanced down, he saw her shining dark hair knotted in a bun, the tired slope of her shoulders. He held her more tightly, feeling how slim she had become; the bones of her ribcage just there under his hand, her spine like an empress’s diadem. He wanted to kiss her but he wanted to feed her first and see if it brought back the color into her cheeks.

 “Let me get you a glass of wine and some bread. Or there are some sweet biscuits,” he said, leading her to the chair closest and settling her there. He had the wine in a glass and a plate for the baguette, a knife to cut thick slices arranged in a few minutes. She had even less than he had imagined in the cupboard but he managed to stop himself from growling about it while Odette ate what he had put in front of her, sipping at the wine.

 “I thought I was so clever, finding these rooms for you, allowing Félicie to take all the classes the others do, but I am not such a clever man. Those stairs would seem to take you to St. Peter and each one polished! Your leg, it must,” he said. He made sure to keep any real bitterness from his voice, lest she have to comfort him.

 “It is what it is. Félicie has somewhere warm to sleep and I have work,” she replied.

 “You ought to have better, to be cared for better,” he insisted.

 “She is a child still, Félicie, she needs to study and dance, not to worry, not to waste her talents in drudgery,” Odette said.

 “You are right about Félicie, though I suspect she wouldn’t agree if she heard you. I didn’t mean she should do more for you, you must know that. I mean I should, if you would only let me.” He saw her weighing the words. He hoped he would not have to argue with her, but that if he did, he might win. He hoped she would believe him.

 “It would please you? To…care for me?” she asked.

 “Yes.” It was the only thing to say. It was incontrovertible, any modification was unnecessary.

 “I don’t know what to say. I thought I would, but I find I don’t,” she said. Now she sounded young, uncertain, without any of the bravado she had had when she first arrived in Paris, when you could hear le Midi in every syllable, smell the hint of rosemary and cypress in her linen, her newly washed hair. He leaned over and took her hand in his.

 “You could try ‘yes.’ Yes, you will allow me to care for you. Yes, you believe I love you. Yes,” he paused, took a breath to brace himself, “you love me. Yes, you will be my wife.”

 He should have brought flowers, even if they were not her favorites, they would have been welcome now that he found himself proposing marriage with a wicker basket full of Camembert and quince preserves, not a jewel in sight. Except, that was not quite right, for when Odette lifted her eyes to him, he saw they were star sapphires, and the tear on her cheek a diamond.

 “Yes.”

[ballerina-leap]

“There was a fire on stage…”

That’s it?

That’s all we get of Odette’s backstory?

Like everyone else, I’ve been wondering just how a little fire caused someone to become crippled. Anyone else craving a flashback?

On the plus side- theories galore!

“A fire on stage’ could mean different things...a prop is on fire and falls on her, or Her costume catches fire, or the stage lighting sets off a gas explosion and/or the opera house burns down.

... ok, let’s talk about that last one.

This here is the Salle de la Peletier, the previous home of the Paris Opéra (also known as Opéra Le Peletier). This is where Mérante (and likely Odette) would have danced and Mérante began his career as choreographer.

On the night of November 29th, 1873 it burned to the ground.

This was just one of hundreds of theaters that burned down during the 1800′s from the new gas lighting. Some interesting notes about this fire...

Burned for over 27 hours

Source of the fire- unknown

Injuries/deaths- none (???)

Other theater fires resulted in the deaths of hundreds, injured thousands. It’s possible I just haven’t found the right source, but so far nothing, and that’s unusual.

Also note the timing- this would have happened about 10 years before the movie. Remember who’s been working with Mérante for 10 years?

So, one theory for that ‘fire on stage’

                  ... might have been an understatement.

[perfectnonfreedom]

Portrait of Louis Mérante and Emma Livry in the ballet La Sylphide

[papergardener]

I watched the Leap! movie a couple months ago and fell in love with 2 of the side characters who honestly were the best part of the movie, imo. 

I ended up writing a fic for them, and I’m still pretty happy with it.

It’s just a little scene of them finding each other after the movie and a little bit of dancing :)

(it’s short enough I’ll just post it under the cut too)

“Odette?”

She looked up from her cleaning to see Mérante striding into the deserted practice room.

“I’m surprised to see you in here so soon- class just finished.”

“I know.” She replied, pulling herself up with her cane and patting down her skirt. “An annoying little redhead was bothering me and mentioned some of the ballerinas kept slipping, so I figured I’d come and take care of it now rather than later.”

“Well… yes. That was- that was good of you.”

“Just doing my job.” She said, and couldn’t help but smile as she met his gaze.

She picked up the bucket, the dirty rag perched on the edge and with a slight bob of her head towards Mérante walked back to the door he had just come from.

Only… she hesitated, hand on the door as she debated if she should even mention-

“Yes, Odette?” Mérante questioned in his familiar, probing way.

Her hand fell from the door handle as she turned to face him, unsure if she was overstepping, even as she set down the pail and walked toward him in the large room. Things had been, well… she didn’t know what was between them ever since the Nutcracker performance. He was still her employer, or at least something like a manager, but certainly there was more to it than that. At least, she thought so. That kiss…

She cleared her throat, more to distract herself than anything else.

“You might have the girls carry their arms just a little higher in the raised fifth position. Just a touch so they’re almost past their center- it’ll help their breathing, and their posture.”

Mérante looked taken aback, and Odette could almost feel herself shrink, chiding herself for trying to lecture a Maître de ballet when she herself hadn’t danced for over ten years.

An apology was on her tongue but before the first word was out, Mérante stretched his arms before him and took the first position- hands and legs elegant, posture perfect. He switched to second, then third- precise, sharp. It was nearly odd to watch such a stern man doing a ballerina’s positions, and yet, as he smoothly swept in fourth, she was struck by how little he had changed from his days as danseur at the Opéra Le Peletier.

He finished in fifth, arms raised over his head, held it for a moment then pulled his arms just a touch more back and closed his eyes, feeling the weight of it.

“I see.” Eyes still closed, he took a deep breath standing in fifth that Odette found herself mirroring, squaring back her shoulders instinctually and standing straighter. It’d been so long since she’d done those steps herself, she was surprised how easily the old feelings resurfaced.

“That’s good advice.” He said, gently bringing his hands down, his feet stepping out of the parallel.

“Of course.” She said, for a moment relaxing in the comfort of the room, the warmth of his presence. But, she reminded herself, this wasn’t her world anymore. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I should get back to my cleaning.”

She turned away, feeling more clumsy and stiff than usual, her cane clunking beside her.

“Odette, wait…”

She paused, tilted her head back.

“Will you dance with me?”

Her breath hitched in her throat. She clutched the handle of her cane with a shaking hand.

“Please?” He asked in a low voice.

She heard slow steps approach, but was too scared to face him. She hadn’t danced since… since…

“I…”

I don’t think I can.

She could feel him standing there behind her, just out of reach.

“We would take it slow. I’d be with you the whole time, you won’t fall. And… and if wished to stop you need only say so.” He paused, breath high and anxious, a strange vulnerability she wasn’t used to. He waited and still she couldn’t find the words.

She looked over her shoulder, one foot turning slightly, and made up her mind. With a soft sigh she walked to the door, gripped her cane hard to steady herself and, breathing out, left it against the wall. Praying she would not make a fool of herself, especially in front of him, she carefully turned and faced him, keenly aware of her damaged legs, her unresponsive feet.

Summoning all those memories of dancing, of floating, she took two careful steps towards him, hand outstretched. His face faltered, then lifted. He met her half way and took her hand with a practiced grace.

She pulled her shoulders back, head high, and reached forward and planted her foot, tilting her other leg up and felt a slight wobble. Her balance was shoddy; as was her footwork and she knew not all of it was because of her old wounds- the deep burns, soft bones.

She lowered her leg and brought herself to an open fourth position to face him. “I might be rusty.” She admitted, ready to pull away at any moment.

Instead, he responded with a slight squeeze of her hand, before she felt his other hand on her waist.

“I’m sure you still have it in you.”

She was sure it wasn’t any pas de deux she’d danced before, nor watched. She improvised each turn and bend and sweep, and Mérante was always there to steady her, guide her when she felt unsure. She felt her body shift, as if it were young and whole again- the practiced turn of the wrist as she rose from a dip, sinking into a demi-plié and leaning into an arabesque- arms and leg outstretched, balanced and poised with Mérante. They went slow, each movement long, deliberate- an adagio without preamble or coda.

As they danced her nerves gave way to an incredible joy that filled her like sunshine. How she had missed this. It was like coming up for air after drowning for years, like balm after a burn. And all the while, Mérante’s hand was firm at her waist.

She lost herself in the dance, it was like a dream.

A slight movement caught her eye, jolting her back to reality as she saw a row of heads peaking over the stairwell, watching them.

She gasped and would have lost her balance without Mérante being there. He spun around to find what had distracted her and saw the girls watching them and she heard at least one girl gasp and bob out of sight.

“Wha- Class was dismissed! All of you, go! Allez!” He called out, throwing out his arm and was rewarded with embarrassed giggles and rustling of fabric.

Odette looked to the door and saw flashes of red and gold just slip out of view before it shut, as Merante turned back to her, flustered.

“I should get going.” She said leaning back and letting her feet find steady ground.

“Ah… of course.” He said looking at her hand, still clasped in his. Their eyes met for a moment before he walked her to the door. She didn’t mind- she wasn’t ready to let go yet.

He took care giving her the cane- she wished she didn’t need to take it. But their moment had been fleeting and now it was gone, and she was back to being just a cleaner.

Still…

She leaned up and kissed him softly on the cheek. “Thank you.” She whispered.

He look briefly stunned before collecting himself and put a hand on her elbow.

“Thank you.”

Opening the door she wasn’t surprised to see two familiar faces, Camille perched behind Félicie who had her mouth wide open as if trying to get enough air to ask the many, many… many questions she had.

Odette put a finger under her chin and snapped it shut, silencing her before she was able to make more than a high-pitched peep.

“You’ll catch flies like that.” Odette said.

“But… but that- what was that?”

“If you’ll excuse me, ladies. I have a lot of work to do.” She said, unable to keep the smile off her face. “And I believe you two have training.” She called out over her shoulder.

She felt like she could fly again.

[nikolailebedev]

Here's a short story writed in school. Hope It's good 🌿

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 1

Paris, 1885

It was a cold evening while Odette was (as always) sweeping the stage. Mérante decided to go to her usual place to watch her. He was admiring her beauty, grace and talent. Odette wasn't feeling really well, when suddenly fell on the floor

Lovis ran to her and realized that she's unconcious. He quickly picked up her body and figured out how thin she got. Mérante got up and leaded to the attic.

He laid her on the mattres on cleaner part of room (he was guessing that it's her part of room). Louis could sit there for hours, stroking her beautiful, dark har tied in a neat bun (which he untied before).

Odette was slowly waking up. She was suprised to see Merante's face. He was trying to calm her down.

-Odie, calm down, it's me- said man patiently

- Louis? What are you doing there?

-You don't remember anything, right?

-No, I don't. What happened?

-Well I saw you lying on the stage and I brought you up there

-Thank you- she was really moved that he's taking care of her

-You're welcome. Are you alright? - said Louis raising his hand to check her temperature

-Yeah, I'm fine.

-I don't believe you. He was really worried - You're burning up. Oh and as long as I remember I have a question for you.

-Yes? - she was very curious what is it.

-Do you hand over your meals to Félicie?

She was staying silent. She wasn't able to admit.

- I'll take your silence us yes.

- You know that she needs a lot of energy for trainings- she was trying to justify herself

- But it's still not good for you know that right? You're doing need a lot of strength with your condition, you a lot of work so you also

[livehorsesartpage]

Honestly there was missing content of these two in the fandom. It was time for me to do something about it. 😊

Instead of a bedtime story, I imagine it becomes a tradition for Mérante and Félicie to sit by the chimney, where Mérante shares with Félicie his choreography works while she sits on his lap. Félicie still doesn't understand how it works the choreography techniques, but she still enjoys this little moment with her Papa before going to bed.

To make the chimney I tried to rely on the memory I have from an old chimney my grandparents had in their old house, now reduced to dust I think. They had to move on and sell the house. :') I loved that chimney, but my grandfather never lit it up because of CO2 reasons. Low-key I hate this paper it's so bad. I don't know why I still draw on that sketchbook tbh, it just appears I'm drawing over a cheap paper napkin that gets wrinkled all the time. Maybe I'll try to get a better picture of it later

Made with pencil colors at October 11 of 2021.

[livehorses]

Cought the moment when Mérante shows his italian side. 😂🤌🏻

[ballerinaleapmovie]

Things that happened at Christmas Eve on Ballerina/Leap!

What we know for sure of course.

• Félicie tries to apologize with Victor, she’s rejected by him.

• Félicie and Camille have their dance off.

• Félicie achieves to do the Grand Jeté.

• Félicie is chosen for the role of Clara.

• Félicie and Victor finally reconcile with each other.

• Régine tries to murder Félicie on Eiffel’s workshop and then on the top of the Statue of Liberty.

• Victor tries for the first time his pigeons wings and saves Félicie.

• Régine falls off from the Statue.

• The Nutcracker is released on the Opera Garnier with Mérante’s coreography.

• Félicie has her debut as dancer.

• Mérante and Odette reconcile with each other.

A happy ending on a very special day for our beloved characters.

[grand-duke-tuffy]

Please hear me out, ever since I watch a movie on our TV ("that I didn't know the title of cause my dad had the remote")

I have itching to find that out and that I did like two days ago, and watch the Ballerina/Leap! Movie....

One thing...

ONE... THING...

That got me it's attention is Louis Mérante and Odette, why....

(because that was the scene that caught me in the first place, when I still haven't known the title yet)

I'm having so many feeling right now, and I have been reading fanfictions abou the two of em...I just ughhhhh.... I hate and like it when I'm like this.... I'm hopeless..

I only see the movie once and immediately I love the two.... Mérante and Odette...

[lazyninjaphilosopher]

So...

...if you haven’t seen the movie Leap!, you’re missing out; go watch it.  But this post isn’t about how amazing this movie was and how beautiful I thought the animation was.  This is about the fact that Louis Mérante, the ballet master and world-famous choreographer at the Paris Opera Ballet, is just Hanzo in an alternate universe.  Literally, every time he got a close-up, all I could see was Hanzo.  Just look at this man!