Riona (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rionaleonhart) wrote2010-02-05 09:34 am
rionaleonhart) wrote2010-02-05 09:34 am
I Am Humming 'Viridian City' Whilst Typing This Entry, Incidentally.
Why can't I stop thinking about this ridiculous pairing? Here is some thoroughly excessive rambling about bad Charlie Brooker/David Mitchell fic ideas. Perhaps at some point I should actually attempt to write a couple of these, rather than simply inflicting the concepts upon my long-suffering flist.
The Fic In Which Charlie Brooker and David Mitchell Fight Zombies.
Mr Mitchell is to begin hosting a panel show called The Bubble quite soon, I believe. The idea is that the panellists are locked away from the outside world for three days, then presented with news items and asked to determine whether they actually occurred during their incarceration or whether they were simply made up.
This is obviously the ideal setting for maximum Dead Set similarity. Brooker is in the bubble (I assume that the title of the programme refers to the panellists' prison); Mitchell is visiting the bubble for some reason; ZOMBIE OUTBREAK.
I... haven't actually watched Dead Set, I have to confess, on account of being a wimp and a coward (zombies are scary!), and watching Dead Set would definitely be a prerequisite for this fic. But I do think it should exist. (To those of you who've seen Dead Set: should I watch it? Do you think I'd enjoy it? Will it make me freak out and cry?)
The Fic In Which Charlie Brooker Is A Panellist On The Bubble And David Mitchell Visits Him In His Incarceration Slightly More Than Necessary, Or Maybe The Door Lock Malfunctions Or Something And Both Mitchell And Brooker Are Trapped Together, I Don't Know Enough About The Bubble To Know Whether That Would Be Feasible, But In Any Case They Fall In Love And It's Brilliant.
Because I realised whilst writing about The Bubble up there that I really wanted this. This is frustrating, because it is a fic idea requiring research that at present cannot be done. I hope we get some information about the conditions in which the panellists are held when The Bubble begins.
The Inevitable Charlie Brooker/David Mitchell Pokémon Crossover.
The mental conversation I just had with myself:
Riona: Where would David Mitchell live, if he lived in the Pokémon world?
Riona's Mind: Pewter City.
Riona: And which Gym would Charlie Brook—
Riona's Mind: Pewter City.
APPARENTLY IT IS THE MOST OBVIOUS THING IN THE WORLD THAT BOTH MITCHELL AND BROOKER LIVE IN PEWTER CITY. I was originally planning to have Mitchell come to a strange town and make his way to its Gym, there to meet Brooker, but this is evidently impossible because it is solid fact that they are both residents of Pewter City. GUYS, YOU ARE BEING TROUBLESOME.
Actually, my original plan wasn't terribly well thought-out, because why would Mitchell go to a Gym? He's not a Pokémon trainer. He's never owned a Pokémon, in fact, and he is frustrated by the fact that the world around him seems to be increasingly designed only for people with Pokémon. It is perfectly possible to exist without a Pokémon! Or it should be, at least. He barely trusts himself to look after himself; he can hardly accept the charge of another living creature.
ONE DAY THERE IS A ROCKSLIDE ON THE BORDERS OF PEWTER CITY, OH NO. Mitchell, out for a pleasant walk, finds himself about to be rockslided! But the leader of Pewter City Gym happens to be training on the cliff and sends his Onix to save the man in peril.
Possibly the Onix may have been responsible for the rockslide in the first place. The leader of Pewter City Gym isn't going to talk about that.
Although he is not actually injured, Mitchell, rather embarrassingly, faints in the Onix's coils. The Gym Leader (spoiler: it's Brooker), having established that the man is unhurt, rolls his eyes and orders his Onix to carry his insensible form back to the Gym. Tending to unconscious strangers is neither Brooker's area of expertise nor his idea of a good time, but he supposes he might have a tiny bit of responsibility for this man, given that he maybe possibly caused that rockslide.
He supposes.
(Should I write this fic, I may not be able to resist the urge to illustrate it with bad manips throughout.)
The Fic In Which Charlie Brooker and David Mitchell Totally Live Happily Ever After, Just Because.
...I'd like it, but I cannot begin to imagine how it would work. Oh, dear.
The Fic In Which Charlie Brooker and David Mitchell Fight Zombies.
Mr Mitchell is to begin hosting a panel show called The Bubble quite soon, I believe. The idea is that the panellists are locked away from the outside world for three days, then presented with news items and asked to determine whether they actually occurred during their incarceration or whether they were simply made up.
This is obviously the ideal setting for maximum Dead Set similarity. Brooker is in the bubble (I assume that the title of the programme refers to the panellists' prison); Mitchell is visiting the bubble for some reason; ZOMBIE OUTBREAK.
I... haven't actually watched Dead Set, I have to confess, on account of being a wimp and a coward (zombies are scary!), and watching Dead Set would definitely be a prerequisite for this fic. But I do think it should exist. (To those of you who've seen Dead Set: should I watch it? Do you think I'd enjoy it? Will it make me freak out and cry?)
The Fic In Which Charlie Brooker Is A Panellist On The Bubble And David Mitchell Visits Him In His Incarceration Slightly More Than Necessary, Or Maybe The Door Lock Malfunctions Or Something And Both Mitchell And Brooker Are Trapped Together, I Don't Know Enough About The Bubble To Know Whether That Would Be Feasible, But In Any Case They Fall In Love And It's Brilliant.
Because I realised whilst writing about The Bubble up there that I really wanted this. This is frustrating, because it is a fic idea requiring research that at present cannot be done. I hope we get some information about the conditions in which the panellists are held when The Bubble begins.
The Inevitable Charlie Brooker/David Mitchell Pokémon Crossover.
The mental conversation I just had with myself:
Riona: Where would David Mitchell live, if he lived in the Pokémon world?
Riona's Mind: Pewter City.
Riona: And which Gym would Charlie Brook—
Riona's Mind: Pewter City.
APPARENTLY IT IS THE MOST OBVIOUS THING IN THE WORLD THAT BOTH MITCHELL AND BROOKER LIVE IN PEWTER CITY. I was originally planning to have Mitchell come to a strange town and make his way to its Gym, there to meet Brooker, but this is evidently impossible because it is solid fact that they are both residents of Pewter City. GUYS, YOU ARE BEING TROUBLESOME.
Actually, my original plan wasn't terribly well thought-out, because why would Mitchell go to a Gym? He's not a Pokémon trainer. He's never owned a Pokémon, in fact, and he is frustrated by the fact that the world around him seems to be increasingly designed only for people with Pokémon. It is perfectly possible to exist without a Pokémon! Or it should be, at least. He barely trusts himself to look after himself; he can hardly accept the charge of another living creature.
ONE DAY THERE IS A ROCKSLIDE ON THE BORDERS OF PEWTER CITY, OH NO. Mitchell, out for a pleasant walk, finds himself about to be rockslided! But the leader of Pewter City Gym happens to be training on the cliff and sends his Onix to save the man in peril.
Possibly the Onix may have been responsible for the rockslide in the first place. The leader of Pewter City Gym isn't going to talk about that.
Although he is not actually injured, Mitchell, rather embarrassingly, faints in the Onix's coils. The Gym Leader (spoiler: it's Brooker), having established that the man is unhurt, rolls his eyes and orders his Onix to carry his insensible form back to the Gym. Tending to unconscious strangers is neither Brooker's area of expertise nor his idea of a good time, but he supposes he might have a tiny bit of responsibility for this man, given that he maybe possibly caused that rockslide.
He supposes.
(Should I write this fic, I may not be able to resist the urge to illustrate it with bad manips throughout.)
The Fic In Which Charlie Brooker and David Mitchell Totally Live Happily Ever After, Just Because.
...I'd like it, but I cannot begin to imagine how it would work. Oh, dear.
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I kind of want to give David Mitchell an Eevee that loves him despite his obvious ineptness at looking after it. He spends the first week chasing it off the furniture, until he eventually gives up and lets it sit next to him on the sofa. (Well, it is quite warm...?). This situation evolves (ha!) over time, until David Mitchell starts spending his evenings sitting on his sofa with a cup of tea and an Eeevee asleep in his lap.
Charlie Brooker would actually lend Mitchell a Graveler in order to try and show him how easy it is to raise a Pokemon, wouldn't he? Jesus christ.
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“Look,” Charlie says, rolling his eyes, “I am going to drag you into the present day whether you like it or not.” He holds a Pokéball out to David.
David eyes it warily.
“Lesson one,” Charlie says. “It’s a ball. It’s not going to bite your bloody fingers off.”
“Well, that’s a good start.” David reaches out and takes it, cautiously, between finger and thumb. “Are you expecting me to catch a Pokémon with it? Because, as I understand it, it’s almost impossible to catch a Pokémon without a Pokémon of one’s own, which raises the question of how on Earth so many people get Pokémon in the first place.”
“Oh, well, it’s a good thing that ball already has a Pokémon in it, then.”
David almost drops the Pokéball. “What?”
“I’m not giving it to you,” Charlie clarifies. “I just thought I’d lend you a Pokémon for a while. Show you raising one’s not as scary as you think.”
“I’m already a bit scared, I have to say.” David almost rattles the ball, but checks himself; will that hurt the Pokémon? He has no idea what he’s doing. “What if I kill it?”
“Then we’ll no longer be friends,” Charlie says. “I might make my Onix eat you. But you’re not going to kill it.”
“This isn’t your Onix, then,” David says, in some relief.
“No! I’m not sending a beginner out into the world with an Onix; I’m not a maniac.”
David could contest that. He chooses not to. “So, er...”
“David,” Charlie says. “Tell me you know how to open a Pokéball.”
“Of course I know how to open a Pokéball.” It has one button on it; it can’t be that difficult. He presses it, barely manages to keep his hold on the Pokéball as it expands (he’d forgotten they did that), and then hesitates.
“Contrary to what TV may have taught you,” Charlie says, “it’s not actually compulsory to throw the ball across the room like a twat. Just press the button again.”
David presses the button again, and in a flash of red a metre-tall four-armed fierce-looking living boulder emerges, unintimidating in precisely no ways.
“You thought you’d break me in gently with a Graveler?”
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You know how you were saying that I'm brilliant?
Well, I'm not. You are.
I'll bet Charlie insists on fighting David's Pokemon (with his own, not just, like, running around drop-kicking them into walls) to show him how to protect himself in the likely event of a Pokemon battle.
("I hate to break it to you," says David, "but the chances of my entering a Pokemon battle are extremely unlikely. I have, after all, lasted this long without getting into pissing matches with complete strangers. I just explain to them that I don't want to fight them and that I don't have a Pokemon!"
"Oh, I bet you did as well," says Charlie, looking appalled. "Well, I'm sorry, but you can't do that anymore. There are rules about this sort of thing, and one of them is that you can't walk away from a battle."
"So the rules say that, if I have a Pokemon, I'm suddenly obliged to pit it against other people's?! Christ, that's horrible! It's like a socially acceptable form of animal abuse! Don't they get a say in this? Don't I get a say in this? I don't want to spend even a second of my time participating in another in a long line of archaic blood sports, designed to make the winning party feel secure in the knowledge that his cock is ultimately the biggest.")
Except David looks so stricken every time his Pokemon takes a hit, even if it's just a gentle one - and his Graveler didn't half look confused when Charlie told him to tone it down a bit - that Charlie ends up feeling like the bastard.
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This is an image that probably shouldn't make me want to laugh but does.
I love Mitchell's description of Pokémon battles as 'pissing matches with complete strangers'! It is both spot-on as a description and exactly the phrasing he would use. And his objection on the grounds of cruelty; part of the trouble I'm having in writing this fic is mentally getting past the fact that Pokémon battles are in essence fairly horrible things.
"Oh, I bet you did as well," says Charlie, looking appalled.
Hee!
Except David looks so stricken every time his Pokemon takes a hit, even if it's just a gentle one - and his Graveler didn't half look confused when Charlie told him to tone it down a bit - that Charlie ends up feeling like the bastard.
Oh, this is just adorable.
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Oh no, the image of Charlie Brooker racing around booting Pokemon into walls is incredibly hilarious!
I can hear their voices in my head when I write them, it's so weird. And wrt: Pokemon battles being cruel, wasn't the justification in canon that Pokemon are bred / made to battle? Which is kind of like the fantasy-world counterpart of "this pitbull has been trained to fight other pitbulls", to be honest. I'm not really helping, am I? IDK.
Oh, this is just adorable.
It actually sort of is. Eventually Charlie would feel so bad that he'd offer David a cup of tea or something, I'm sure.
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And then David would tentatively suggest that maybe it would be better for the Pokémon that he didn't own it, because then it might belong to someone who actually knows how to tell it to defend itself. Charlie would then wonder why he was bothering.
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