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09 March 2008 @ 02:26 pm
You've got to be kidding me!  
... ou comme le prétend la traduction littérale de Google : Vous avez intérêt à plaisanter moi!

fanfiction.net a eu la brillante (tout est relatif) idée d'ajouter une option traduction. A priori, c'est réservé aux fanfics postées dans une langue étrangère (étrangère = pas en anglais), à moins que je n'aie pas vu le lien sur les fics en anglais.

Dans un déploiement d'ego des plus malvenus, j'ai essayé la chose sur un court drabble.

NB : la victime de l'expérience est Fuite en avant, un petit drabble Michael/Lincoln (PG-13), parce qu'il est court, posté sur ff.net et je l'ai à la fois en français et en anglais.



Version française

Fuite en avant

Ils courent depuis des heures et il fait toujours noir. C’est la plus longue nuit de son existence. La plus irréelle aussi. Ils courent depuis des heures, Abruzzi et C-Note loin devant, Sucre un peu à la traîne et Linc devant lui, juste assez près pour qu’il voie son dos et entende ses pas, juste assez loin pour qu’il maintienne son rythme afin de ne pas le perdre de vue.

Puis dans un dénivelé, Lincoln s’arrête, légèrement penché en avant, les mains sur les genoux, pour reprendre son souffle, Michael imagine-t-il, et il fait une pause près de lui. En un geste rapide, Linc se redresse, se retourne et, les mains sur ses épaules, le fait reculer contre le tronc d’arbre juste derrière lui. Il rebondit contre le bois, la respiration coupée, la bouche ouverte de surprise sur une question ou une protestation. Il n’a pas le temps de dire quoi que ce soit : Lincoln pose ses lèvres sur les siennes et profite de sa stupéfaction pour pousser la langue entre ses dents et venir chercher la sienne. Avec un hoquet surpris, Michael lève les mains pour les poser sur le visage de son frère et se dégager, mais quand ses doigts se referment sur les mâchoires de Linc, il se surprend à le retenir. Voire à l’attirer un peu plus près.

Lincoln relève la tête et lui adresse un clin d’oeil.

Ce n’était pas un baiser fraternel, songe-t-il, parce que votre frère ne vous embrasse pas sur la bouche.

Ce n’était pas un baiser de reconnaissance ou de remerciement car un baiser de ce type ne nécessite pas que l’on vous enfonce la langue dans la gorge. Surtout si la langue appartient à votre frère.

Ce n’était pas un baiser d’exaltation car celui-ci serait unique, suivi de vagues excuses embarrassées. Pas d’un second baiser.

Ou c’est peut-être le premier qui n’était pas tout à fait terminé ? Il croit bien qu’il grogne un tout petit peu lorsque la langue de Lincoln glisse de nouveau sur la sienne. Et encore un petit peu lorsque le baiser se termine aussi brutalement qu’il a commencé ; il se retrouve adossé au tronc d’arbre, essoufflé et désorienté, Linc déjà loin.

« Michael ? » La voix de Sucre, sa main sur son épaule. « Avance, Michael ! »

- - -

Version passée à la moulinette de ff.net

Leak in Front [1]

They run for hours and it is always black. This is the longest night of his life. The most unreal too. They run for hours, Abruzzi, and C-Note far ahead, a little sugar to lag and Linc before him, just close enough to track her back and hear his footsteps, just far enough to maintain its pace so as not to lose sight of.

Then in a vertical, Lincoln stopped, slightly leaning forward, hands on knees, to resume his breath, Michael "he says, and he takes a break next to him. In a gesture fast, Linc is recovering, and turns, hands on his shoulders, pushes against the tree trunk behind him. It bounced against the wood, breathing cut, the open mouth of surprise on a question or protest. He did not have time to say anything: Lincoln raises his lips on hers and takes advantage of its amazement to push the language between its teeth and pick their own. With a hiccup surprised, Michael lifted their hands to land on the face of his brother and emerge, but when his fingers close to the jaws of Linc, it is surprising to remember. Voire to draw a little closer.

Lincoln falls head and him a wink.

This was not a fraternal embrace, thinking there because your brother does not embrace you on the mouth.

It was not a kiss of gratitude or recognition as a kiss of this type does not require that you pressed the language in the throat. Especially if the language belongs to your brother.

It was not a kiss excitement because it is unique, followed by waves embarrassed apologies. Not a second kiss.

Or maybe it's the first that was not quite finished? He believes although he growls a bit when the language of Lincoln slips again on his own. And even a little kiss when the ends abruptly as it began, it is next to the tree trunk, breathless and disoriented, Linc already far.

"Michael?" The voice of Sucre, his hand on his shoulder. "Put Michael!"

1. Okay... "fuite sur le devant" dans ce genre de fic, c'est... c'est... tout de suite un rating différent.

- - -

Version traduite avec l'aide patiente de recycledfaery

Runaway (intial entry)

They have been running for hours and it’s still dark. It’s the longest night of his life. The most unreal one too. They have been running for hours, Abruzzi and C-Note far ahead of them, Sucre dragging a bit behind, and Lincoln right in front of him – just close enough so he can see his back, just far enough so he keeps his rhythm but not to lose sight of him.

Then Lincoln stops down a slope and slightly bends forward, hands on his thighs – trying to catch his breath, Michael guesses. He comes to a halt next to him. In a swift movement Linc straightens up, turns around and, with his hands on Michael’s shoulders, he pushes him backwards, against a tree behind them. Michael hits the trunk, his breath knocked out, his mouth opening in surprise - to ask or protest. He doesn’t have time to say anything though: Linc crushes their lips together and takes advantage of Michael’s surprise to push his tongue into his brother’s mouth, past his teeth. With a surprised gasp, Michael puts his hands on Lincoln’s face and tries to free himself. But when his fingers close on the rough jaw he finds himself holding Lincoln tight – even pulling him closer.

Before he can really process what’s happening, Lincoln looks up and winks at him.

Michael blinks. It was not a kiss out of brotherly affection because your brother doesn’t kiss you on the mouth like that.

It was not out of gratitude or thanks because this kind of kiss doesn’t require one to thrust their tongue in your throat. Especially if it is your brother’s tongue.

It was not out of exaltation, because there would be only one kiss, closely followed by some awkward apologies. Not by a second kiss.

Or maybe the first one wasn’t totally over? He thinks he may groan a bit when Lincoln’s tongue slides against his again. And a bit more when the kiss ends as abruptly as it has started. He leans against the trunk, out of breath and baffled; Linc is already far away.

“Michael?” It’s Sucre’s voice, his hand on Michael’s shoulder. “Move, Michael!”



Ne vous méprenez pas : à la base, c'est sans doute une idée louable. C'est une idée comme une autre, en tout cas. Mais euh : fanfictions. Y'a "fiction", là-dedans. On ne peut peut pas dissocier le fond de la forme ;_;
 
 
Current Mood: mischievousmischievous
 
 
 
Azh': forgetazhureheart on March 9th, 2008 04:27 pm (UTC)
LOOOL
Ah bah heuuu c'est beau tout ça^^
Chais pas si ça va vraiment servir...
Clair de Lune: text - i knowclair_de_lune on March 9th, 2008 04:42 pm (UTC)
Je comprends l'intérêt pour un texte technique, un article, un truc comme ça. Mais un texte de fiction ?
Ca fait mal aux yeux *g*
Nanou: DW_Team Jack-Martha-Doctorniennanou on March 11th, 2008 10:41 am (UTC)
They run for hours, Abruzzi, and C-Note far ahead, a little sugar to lag and Linc before him

"Michael?" The voice of Sucre, his hand on his shoulder. "Put Michael!"

Mes deux préférées, indéniablement. ^^
Ne jamais faire confiance à un traducteur automatique. ^^
Clair de Lune: divers - heartsclair_de_lune on March 11th, 2008 12:10 pm (UTC)
J'avoue avoir un faible pour ces deux-là.
La traduction littérale du nom, déjà, ça montre bien lies limites de la chose *g*
Et comment "Avance" est devenu d'une certaine façon l'inverse... c'est un mystère ^__^
Maz (or foxxy!): A Little Joytuesdaeschild on November 16th, 2009 10:18 am (UTC)
I never saw this last year so thank you for giving me the link!

This was hot and breathlessly quick and I loved that it took Michael's breath away, leaving him totally perplexed! And I was totally convinced this could have taken place as they fled!!

Great stuff, as always! :)
Clair de Lune: pb - brothers5clair_de_lune on November 16th, 2009 05:32 pm (UTC)
I never saw this last year

Well, the entry is mostly in French and I didn't post it as a fic but to mock study the difference between a translation made by a machine and one made by a human being *g* I don't know if it's still up, but fanfiction.net used this translation tool for a while to let readers translate fics written in a foreign - as in non-english - language. I tried it for fun and by curiosity, and I wasn't disappointed by the outcome :-p

I wrote the ficlet itself about two years ago, it was one of my very first Michael/Lincoln fics, and back then, each time I wrote a M/L story, I thought it would be the last one (don't laugh ;)) *is nostalgic*

I loved that it took Michael's breath away

The run, the excitement (and excitation), the surprise... I liked the idea of Lincoln surprising him and taking him out of guard like that. Messing with his head is quite brotherly - except for the way he messes with his head, obviously ^_^