Riona (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rionaleonhart) wrote2009-11-02 12:31 pm
rionaleonhart) wrote2009-11-02 12:31 pm
No, You Are Wrong. You Cannot Have A Pony.
Today, I rushed from London to Brighton for a seminar that, I discovered upon arrival, had been cancelled.
Mildly put out, I returned to my Brighton abode, where I found a large and intriguing-looking package waiting for me. The details on the back informed me that the sender was a Vayne Aurelius, who, I discovered after a quick Googling, is the protagonist of a game called Mana Khemia: Alchemists of Al-Revis.
This was perplexing.
I opened the package to find a copy of The Thackery T. Lambshead Pocket Guide to Eccentric & Discredited Diseases, the editors of which, according to the blurb, 'received their medical degrees in a dream', and a rather charming and apologetic note from Mr Aurelius, written on the back of a 'Combat Basics 1' exercise sheet ('What to do if you encounter an extraterrestial:'), in which he explained that someone had wished that he send me the book and expressed his hope that I didn't mind receiving it. Inside the book was an empty envelope, on which was written 'To my dear Wainwright, with affectionate regards, Lady Cloudesley'.
I am deeply, deeply confused, and I have absolutely no idea who is responsible, but thank you so much! (I love the level of detail that's gone into this.)
I'm not participating in National Novel Writing Month this year, but I've decided that I'm going to try to at least write something every day during the month of November, whether it's a snippet or a full fic or part of a work in progress. Yesterday, I wrote a tiny clip of Jane and Cho snogging in the interrogation room; today, I am calling upon you to help me.
Give me a prompt, and I'll write you a ficsnippet. Multiple requests are more than welcome!
Feel free to request from anything you know I know! (Requesting from things you don't know I know is acceptable, but in that case it would probably be an idea to include a request or two from something you know I know as well, so you don't end up with 'BARNEY WAS A PERSON (PROBABLY). HE WAS PLAYED BY NEIL PATRICK HARRIS (I THINK, BUT I THINK EVERYONE'S PLAYED BY NEIL PATRICK HARRIS, SO I CAN'T BE SURE). HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER IS A SITCOM, SO AMUSING THINGS PROBABLY HAPPENED. THE END.') Crossovers and the like are, of course, fine.
(I'd be delighted if you made Mentalist requests, but please bear in mind that I'm only just starting to write these characters, so I'm still trying to get to grips with them. I've seen up to the first-season finale.)
Make as many requests as you'd like (and please don't feel you have to know me well to request a snippet); as I've said, I'm going to be trying to write every day, so any prompts would be gratefully received. Thank you!
Mildly put out, I returned to my Brighton abode, where I found a large and intriguing-looking package waiting for me. The details on the back informed me that the sender was a Vayne Aurelius, who, I discovered after a quick Googling, is the protagonist of a game called Mana Khemia: Alchemists of Al-Revis.
This was perplexing.
I opened the package to find a copy of The Thackery T. Lambshead Pocket Guide to Eccentric & Discredited Diseases, the editors of which, according to the blurb, 'received their medical degrees in a dream', and a rather charming and apologetic note from Mr Aurelius, written on the back of a 'Combat Basics 1' exercise sheet ('What to do if you encounter an extraterrestial:'), in which he explained that someone had wished that he send me the book and expressed his hope that I didn't mind receiving it. Inside the book was an empty envelope, on which was written 'To my dear Wainwright, with affectionate regards, Lady Cloudesley'.
I am deeply, deeply confused, and I have absolutely no idea who is responsible, but thank you so much! (I love the level of detail that's gone into this.)
I'm not participating in National Novel Writing Month this year, but I've decided that I'm going to try to at least write something every day during the month of November, whether it's a snippet or a full fic or part of a work in progress. Yesterday, I wrote a tiny clip of Jane and Cho snogging in the interrogation room; today, I am calling upon you to help me.
Give me a prompt, and I'll write you a ficsnippet. Multiple requests are more than welcome!
Feel free to request from anything you know I know! (Requesting from things you don't know I know is acceptable, but in that case it would probably be an idea to include a request or two from something you know I know as well, so you don't end up with 'BARNEY WAS A PERSON (PROBABLY). HE WAS PLAYED BY NEIL PATRICK HARRIS (I THINK, BUT I THINK EVERYONE'S PLAYED BY NEIL PATRICK HARRIS, SO I CAN'T BE SURE). HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER IS A SITCOM, SO AMUSING THINGS PROBABLY HAPPENED. THE END.') Crossovers and the like are, of course, fine.
(I'd be delighted if you made Mentalist requests, but please bear in mind that I'm only just starting to write these characters, so I'm still trying to get to grips with them. I've seen up to the first-season finale.)
Make as many requests as you'd like (and please don't feel you have to know me well to request a snippet); as I've said, I'm going to be trying to write every day, so any prompts would be gratefully received. Thank you!
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Graham
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I think the Derren half would be confused as to why he was in a video game yet again, and the Luxord half would be wondering why Shadows were suddenly electrical rodents. xDno subject
Derren has been noticing it more and more of late; Luxord is able to break through and speak for a few seconds before Derren regains control, he is able to walk a few steps before Derren realises what's happening, and it makes Derren very uneasy. Not that he'd usually begrudge anyone's having control over their own body, assuming they are not on stage at one of his shows, but as Luxord's body is in fact presently Derren's he thinks this can be considered a special case.
Still, he doesn't realise exactly how large a problem he has until he goes to sleep in his bed and wakes up in a field, with a bright yellow rabbit sitting on his chest.
Good morning, Luxord's voice says brightly in his mind.
"Er," Derren says, staring at the rabbit.
The rabbit stares back and flicks an ear, then makes a rather unrabbitish noise. It sounds like 'Peecah'.
You may be wondering why you are here.
"Well, you're evidently psychic," Derren mutters, raising a hand to push the rabbit off his chest. "Come on; move."
The rabbit looks startled, and what look like sparks start flickering about its cheeks, and then Derren is in quite a lot of pain.
He hears Luxord sigh in his mind as he slumps back into unconsciousness. I'll explain later.
"Right," Derren says, when some time has passed and he is, obviously, conscious. "Putting aside the fact that I think throwing me through portals without permission is extremely rude: why?"
I wished to know whether I could still access the darkness, Luxord says. I have no doubt that, in my circumstances, you would also have wanted to test the boundaries of your power.
Derren, sitting with his back against a tree trunk, eyes the nearby electric rabbits suspiciously. "And can you use that power to take us back?"
Not for the moment, Luxord says, entirely unapologetically.
"Of course not."
Opening portals takes a great deal of energy. I shall need time to recuperate.
"And how long will that take?"
Approximately as long as it will take for your present situation to cease to be amusing, Luxord says, and even though he has no physical form with which to smirk Derren can hear him smirking. In the interval, I suggest you try to become a Pokémon Master.
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You could always join me and
Final Fantasy 8 - non-AU fic that involves Garden in some way, because it's an amazing creation. Focused on Squall if possible?
Legend of Dragoon - Dart and Lavitz have a night and crazy hijimks ensue.
Kingdom Hearts 2 - Hayner, Pence and Olette trying to reconcile Sora with some sort of memory (dream?) of Roxas.
And yeeeeeah I generally suck at prompts.
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"You're an angel?" the Doctor asks. "That's excellent. I've never met an angel before. Well. Met the weeping sort, but they're not really angels, and they're not nearly as much fun."
"You think the warriors of God are fun?"
"No! Yes. Maybe a little. You don't think you're fun? You can alter reality. That's fun."
"We do not alter reality for our amusement," Castiel says. "We are fighting a war."
The Doctor shrugs. "All right, maybe you're not much fun. But still, an angel. Wow." He perches himself on top of the wall Castiel is leaning against. "How's that war going, by the way?"
"It depends on which side you are on," Castiel says, staring straight ahead.
"No," the Doctor says, dropping his voice, "I've been following this, and I'm really not sure it does."
Castiel turns to look at him. "What do you mean?"
There is a silence.
"You don't know," the Doctor breathes. "Of course you don't; they'd hardly tell the footsoldiers."
"Tell me your meaning," Castiel says, with more force.
"Some of the seals that have been broken," the Doctor says. "Well. You must have realised that demons don't have that sort of power."
"There are rogue angels," Castiel says. "They are working against our goal. Uriel was one."
"I'll tell you what I think," the Doctor says. "I think your superiors are every bit as keen on raising Lucifer as Lilith is. I think you're being manipulated."
"I think you should leave."
"I'm not going to let it happen. You should come with me."
Castiel glares. "Go."
"Think about it," the Doctor says. "I'll be around."
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The young man has scruffy blond hair and impressive eyebrows. He is wearing an anachronistic military uniform. A daydreamer; a fantasist.
There's something interesting about him. Jane can tell. He has something to hide, and Jane is going to find out what it is. "Hi."
"Hello," the man says, after a brief hesitation. He's defensive and wary, but he's British, so no surprise there.
"I'm Patrick Jane," Jane says, holding out a hand. The man has some prejudice against Americans, he notes from his reaction to his accent; probably thinks they're crass or stupid. That could make things easier; people are less careful when they underestimate him.
The man glances briefly to the side before taking Jane's hand: uncomfortable with shaking hands with a stranger, but, again, this is England, so Jane can't draw any conclusions from that. "Arthur," he says. Jane holds on a moment too long to check his pulse (steady and strong and very slow, perfectly in time with the chiming of Big Ben in the background) before letting go.
"Hi, Arthur," Jane says brightly (Arthur, he notes, doesn't like it when he echoes his name). "I'm just here on vacation; could you tell me a bit about the place? If you're okay with that." He can afford to be polite, he knows; Arthur's probably going to feel obliged to help even if Jane offers him a way out, and if Jane makes him feel it was voluntary he'll be able to get him to do more for him in the future.
Arthur hesitates again. It was just meant as a way of opening the conversation, but Jane realises he's got a hit. It's something to do with the area, or maybe something historical or geographical. In any case, this might be easier than he thought.
(In fact, as it will be a long time before he starts to consider that the clouds gathering overhead may be a relevant factor, he still has some way to go.)
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If you do not write this I will kill you.
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JUDGE FRAKES: Is this true?
JUDGE FRAKES: Really? Why? I thought you were friends?
JUDGE FRAKES: *bangs gavel* Case dismissed.
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If you haven't already.
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I don't have the PS2 with me at university, so I can't play it at the moment, but I have heard very good things about it and I have to confess that I am quite intrigued.
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Also, Jared and Jensen being domestic together.
Also, I'd very much like it if you would Make Things Up re Lucy and Al, just because I like reading about them, regardless of who writes it, and because it Amuses me when you Make Things Up. (The only thing you need to know is that Al is a hologram and Lucy is an excessively cute seven year old and one of the only ones who can see him.)
Failing those, Pokemon meets Silent Hill.
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It has just occured to me that I don't know.
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How about, what became of Bela Talbot? (anything except her just dying, I refuse to accept she just died and ended up being tortured in hell forever more)
or, I feel there should be more crossovers (since I've only read one so far) involving non-Neverwhere characters meeting the Angel Islington. Maybe Castiel. Though maybe this is something I should attempt myself.
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1) Merlin and Arthur and their Pokemon-having shenanigans.
2) The Master and Derren Brown taking afternoon tea together.
3) Troy Bolton is hit by a pick-up truck and wakes up in Manchester, 1973. Gene Hunt doesn't fucking sing.
4) (OBLIGATORY ATTEMPT TO GET YOU TO WRITE SOMETHING JONAS-Y) Joe, Nick and Kevin take a wrong turn on the way to their next venue and end up in Silent Hill. OH NOES???
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I THINK I LOVE YOU.
Your second prompt is also amazing.
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It all came about because I had two of those books sitting on my shelf. And if you read the book enough you'll come to realise why this is a really terrifying thing to be true, and so I figured I would share the
cursewealthand allow one to replicate on someone else's shelf instead. And I figured "who likes getting random, possibly worrying stuff in the mail?" ...I'm RPing Vayne currently, so he was the obvious choice to send it because he's so darn compliant....believe it or not, the envelope was already in there from years ago when a friend and I used to write to each other in the personas of historical figures. I left it in because it seemed like an extra little touch of confusion. I am glad this worked out. XD XD
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(Thank you for not cackling at my unending confusion. And also for the mildly alarming book!)
I don't know Vayne, but he seems rather adorable. (When I saw the name on the back, my first thought was of Vayne Solidor, who would be a more worrying character from whom to receive a message.)
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By which I mean, Balthier/Fran/Jack: stealing some sort of artifact from some sort of castle, possibly involving body swap.
I was trying to think of a Silent Hill request and came up with 'James can't find the map,' and was too horrified by the idea to actually request it. So something Silent Hill related.
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I am really curious as to where a CBI agent puts a mini-pony.
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Bad news: Gene has come with him.
The Incredible Shrinking Jeremy Clarkson
Unhelpful Dragon versus the Stig. (Or any Top Gear/Merlin crossover, come to think of it.)
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"You have no right to ever call me 'Hamster' again," Richard says, eventually, when he's caught his breath. "How tall are you?"
"Ten inches?" Jeremy suggests. "About that. Which would be very impressive if I were a cock."
Richard is momentarily too appalled to respond, so James is the one to say the obligatory, "You are."
It's funnier before Jeremy starts coming up with plans that are definitely going to get him and possibly going to get everyone in the world killed.
"Jeremy," Richard says. "You can't drive."
"I can. I'm a brilliant driver."
"You can't drive like this. It won't work."
"It will work perfectly," Jeremy insists, clambering with some effort onto the steering wheel. "I will be awarded a Nobel Prize for my research into driving for people with Stig-induced handicaps."
There is a pause.
"I'm not going to be able to reach the accelerator from here, am I?"
"No," Richard says, with some relief. "No, you're not."
"And now, the news," James says. "As the more astute amongst you may have noticed, Jeremy Clarkson is six inches tall."
"I'm not!" Jeremy bellows, for approximately the seventeenth time. "The camera's just far away!"
James and Richard, for the benefit of the audience at home, give the camera a sceptical glance.
"And it's ten inches, anyway. Or it would be if I'd actually been shrunk. Which I've not."
"We've actually got a surprise challenge for you, Jeremy," Richard says, beaming, and he draws back the screen to reveal the large collection of toy cars.
Jeremy doesn't stop swearing for the rest of the show.
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"few things disturb me more about modern TV than people being humiliated and misled for our entertainment"
Guess who said that (pretend you don't know already). HOW FAR IN DENIAL IS HE. 'Humiliated' like being made to kill an ickle kitten? Misled like believing someone can predict the lottery? Ahahahahaaaa.
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and maybe some jane/everyone ever, but if you have to pick, some jane&derren brown&luxord, because obvs jane is the real person.