MMOM Day 31-E is for Enigma (1983)
Title: To The Victor, The Spoils
Fandom: Enigma (1983)
Character: Alex Holbeck (Mention of Karen Reinhardt/Dimitri Vasilikov)
Wordcount: 515
Rating: R
Notes: Yet another obscure 80's movie that I ADORE. Martin Sheen (Alex), Sam Neill looking more gorgeous than any man ever had a right to (Dimitri), Brigitte Fossey (Karen) Derek Jacobi (Limmer), and even if IMDB is to be believed, although I don't remember, Patrick Bauchau (Chase's dad, among other things.) I haven't actually seen the damn movie in 20 years or so, but it's seriously imprinted from multiple viewings on HBO. Dedicated to bff Jennifer, partner in Sam Neill love.
I LOVE YOU BETA GODDESS CAROL!!!!
East German television sucked.
Alex shouldn’t have been surprised to find nothing to watch, but he was desperate for a distraction. If you’re going to take away the opium of the masses, the least you can do is give them heroin in the form of mindless entertainment, something to help them forget. But there were only two channels, one of which was barely visible through the static, and the other showing propaganda newsreels of dubious vintage and veracity.
Shit.
There was nothing to do but drink another cup of bad coffee and try not to think of where Karen had gone and what she was going to do.
Not here. If I’m going to whore, I’m not going to whore here.
It was poetic and ugly at the same time.
The woman he loved was going to whore herself to a KGB agent, because he’d asked her to. He tried to tell himself that she’d volunteered, but that he couldn’t buy that any more than he could believe Russian films from the 30’s showing happy workers on collective farms.
He put on a record. Shostakovich, in case the apartment was bugged.
Shrewd, but not sophisticated, she’d called Dimitri Vasilikov.
Hopefully not shrewd enough to figure out what she was up to. Not too soon anyway.
At least it wasn’t Limmer, he told himself, as though it were some consolation that she was going to fuck a good-looking Russian bastard instead of a vile Stasi troll.
Nothing to do but wait. And try not to think. But he couldn’t stop thinking. He lay back on the old battered couch and unzipped his pants. He had time and there was nothing else to do.
Soon he was imagining Karen and Dimitri together. For some reason they were laughing. He and Karen had never laughed much in bed. For dissidents, even sex was serious. But when she was screwing a KGB agent, she could afford to laugh. Dimitri was holding her, kissing the softness of her mouth, whispering in her ear. She reached out to touch his soft brown hair, brushing a lock off his forehead.
Maybe he was imagining it that way for her sake. If he were a good lover, it wouldn’t be so bad. It might make it easier for her to forgive him later. He might even be able to forgive himself.
The “unsophisticated” Russian had some good moves. He moved between Karen’s legs and her laughter gave way to moans of pleasure. Alex’s hand moved faster. He’d missed her, he really had, and if they got out of this alive, he’d tell her he loved her and do it better than Dimitri, who was now fucking her, making her scream in a way she’d never done with him, but only because they’d always assumed the rooms were being monitored.
He finished quickly, biting his lip against any outburst that might be heard over the last movement of the 2nd symphony.
She’d been gone less than half an hour. It was going to be a long night.
And there was still nothing on television.
PARTY AT MY LJ TOMORROW!!! Final statistics, master list, snow balls and brain bleach.
Fandom: Enigma (1983)
Character: Alex Holbeck (Mention of Karen Reinhardt/Dimitri Vasilikov)
Wordcount: 515
Rating: R
Notes: Yet another obscure 80's movie that I ADORE. Martin Sheen (Alex), Sam Neill looking more gorgeous than any man ever had a right to (Dimitri), Brigitte Fossey (Karen) Derek Jacobi (Limmer), and even if IMDB is to be believed, although I don't remember, Patrick Bauchau (Chase's dad, among other things.) I haven't actually seen the damn movie in 20 years or so, but it's seriously imprinted from multiple viewings on HBO. Dedicated to bff Jennifer, partner in Sam Neill love.
I LOVE YOU BETA GODDESS CAROL!!!!
East German television sucked.
Alex shouldn’t have been surprised to find nothing to watch, but he was desperate for a distraction. If you’re going to take away the opium of the masses, the least you can do is give them heroin in the form of mindless entertainment, something to help them forget. But there were only two channels, one of which was barely visible through the static, and the other showing propaganda newsreels of dubious vintage and veracity.
Shit.
There was nothing to do but drink another cup of bad coffee and try not to think of where Karen had gone and what she was going to do.
Not here. If I’m going to whore, I’m not going to whore here.
It was poetic and ugly at the same time.
The woman he loved was going to whore herself to a KGB agent, because he’d asked her to. He tried to tell himself that she’d volunteered, but that he couldn’t buy that any more than he could believe Russian films from the 30’s showing happy workers on collective farms.
He put on a record. Shostakovich, in case the apartment was bugged.
Shrewd, but not sophisticated, she’d called Dimitri Vasilikov.
Hopefully not shrewd enough to figure out what she was up to. Not too soon anyway.
At least it wasn’t Limmer, he told himself, as though it were some consolation that she was going to fuck a good-looking Russian bastard instead of a vile Stasi troll.
Nothing to do but wait. And try not to think. But he couldn’t stop thinking. He lay back on the old battered couch and unzipped his pants. He had time and there was nothing else to do.
Soon he was imagining Karen and Dimitri together. For some reason they were laughing. He and Karen had never laughed much in bed. For dissidents, even sex was serious. But when she was screwing a KGB agent, she could afford to laugh. Dimitri was holding her, kissing the softness of her mouth, whispering in her ear. She reached out to touch his soft brown hair, brushing a lock off his forehead.
Maybe he was imagining it that way for her sake. If he were a good lover, it wouldn’t be so bad. It might make it easier for her to forgive him later. He might even be able to forgive himself.
The “unsophisticated” Russian had some good moves. He moved between Karen’s legs and her laughter gave way to moans of pleasure. Alex’s hand moved faster. He’d missed her, he really had, and if they got out of this alive, he’d tell her he loved her and do it better than Dimitri, who was now fucking her, making her scream in a way she’d never done with him, but only because they’d always assumed the rooms were being monitored.
He finished quickly, biting his lip against any outburst that might be heard over the last movement of the 2nd symphony.
She’d been gone less than half an hour. It was going to be a long night.
And there was still nothing on television.
PARTY AT MY LJ TOMORROW!!! Final statistics, master list, snow balls and brain bleach.