AND THEN SETH GREEN IN FLANNEL GUEST STARRED ON X-FILES

[whynot]

The end of the paid account was like Y2K or something. I was all OH NO OH NO, but in the end all I lost was icon space and poll-making abilities. I didn't even lose my mood theme! So, okay. Also: GIP! If I were still doing the adjacent icons meme, I would be writing a drabble about Susan Pevensie and Bender hanging out.

Speaking of memes, lovestories gave me 5 things to talk about:

erasure poetry
This is all zempasuchil, actually. She took a whole course about it, and was posting links to Humument.com and other examples, posted her own erasures, and I became intrigued. Erasures appeal to my love of stories within stories. I suggested we erase each other's fics, and to my delight she said yea. Speaking of which, have ya'll already signed up for erasureathon?

Merlin/Will
Ah, Will: fandom's buttmonkey. Here's the thing. He is obviously a big part of Merlin's origins story, and he and Merlin obviously adored each other and perhaps canoodled in the pastures. I like his realistic reaction to certain doom (run awaaaaay) -- but he does come back to fight in the end, guys -- and I like his utter normalcy. Also, he's the only other person except Hunith who knew about the magic! Merlin may not end with Will by his side, but he begins with Will by his side, and this is just as valid as Merlin and Arthur's superspecial destiny. I said most of what I had to say about Will in Halcyon Days, though I suspect there may at some point be an AU where Will survives and follows the gang back to Camelot, then this happens. Have a Merlin/Will vid. I've recced it before but god, it gets me every time.

insanely glorious Narnia AUs
<3! AUs are insanely glorious fun! Oh, the 'what if?' game. These days I tend to blither on about Merlin AUs more, excepting this one I'm on with marycontraire wherein Merlin and Arthur are FBI agents and the Pevensies are the mafia, and Arthur and Edmund have secret meetings where Arthur tries to wrest information out of Edmund about Morgana's kidnapping. Thing is, I never used to like AUs, but then you start asking questions like WHAT IF ARTHUR WAS A DINOSAUR and how can you turn away?

Peter/Susan
What have I said about them that I haven't before. They are the inappropriate OTP of my heeeaaarrrrt. I think I've Peter/Susaned myself out, in that although I still ship them, I tend to write around them more now instead of directly addressing the issue. In the rambling meme, I talked about Peter/Susan.

Indonesian shadow puppets
I never got around to writing the drabble about Edmund and the shadow puppets, but it would involve comparisons to Plato's cave, and how the shadows cast on the cave wall are like the puppets' shadows on the screen. The 'real' thing may be the leather puppets and the human voices and hands that animate them, but what the audience is meant to see are their shadows. And the brighter the light, the sharper the shadows, and that's where the story lies. So, uh. I guess that's what it means to Edmund.



Here are a couple of things that have improved my Monday. First, a most gracious lady remixed me and zempasuchil's Narnia geek-off, Sea Change, for remixredux09. It is so lovely, please read it: into something rich and strange (the tempus aeternum backbeat). Awesome #1: there is more Lucy. Awesome #2: "Edmund has spent hours puzzling over black holes and maths and the curious turn of gravity trying to find a way to say, in the language of these scientific men, what he himself knows with an utter intimacy." <3 "Einstein's Dream" is now on my to-read list.

Second, my Merlin/Monty Python fusion, Only a Model, has been nominated for excalibur_award under Best Crack Fic, Best Humor Fic, and Best Crossover Fic. \o/! Thanks, nominator! If any of ya'll are inclined to agree with this nomination, uh, vote for me? I promise to reform the health care system!

Comments

ugh this is rushed and terrible, sorry. more cousin interference.

[marycontraire.livejournal.com]

Edmund waits until he's a few blocks away from the bar before drawing the pack of Dunhills out of his jacket pocket. He lights the cigarette with the lighter Lucy gave him for Christmas the year their parents died and they went to live with the Professor. It has a lion engraved on it. It makes him feel like Aslan is watching him always, which used to comfort him. Now it annoys him, but he's never been able to throw away any gift from Lucy.

He isn't surprised by Arthur's insinuations, not really. He knows that Jadis is alive better than anyone, and he was never foolish enough to think she'd stay hidden forever.

There was a time, however, when he was foolish enough to hold a gun to her head and falter, let her go alive. There was a time when he was foolish enough to lose himself in the heady scent of power that clung to her like a perfume. Even now, he wakes from strange dreams and is surprised to find that she isn't staring at him, unblinking in the dark at the other side of the bed. (He's never seen her sleep, and he used to wonder if maybe she stayed up all night just to watch his nightmares.)

Ed drops the cigarette on the damp sidewalk and crushes the orange glow beneath the heel of his shoe. He hopes he's less of a fucking idiot this time around.

+

Lucy is in Widener Library when her cell phone rings, and though exam period is nearly over, the place is still full of unfortunates with one more test to study for or, like her, a stack of undergraduate papers to grade. She finds herself on the receiving end of about a dozen angry glares, and dives self-consciously to hang up on whoever is disturbing her at this ungodly hour of the night.

When she yanks her phone out of her messenger bag, though, "EDMUND" flashes across the front screen in neon green letters. She sighs in defeat, abandons her papers, and sprints out of the quiet study area with her obnoxiously ringing phone clutched in her hand. She opens it on the steps, to be greeted by a familiar voice saying, "Lu?"

"Haven't heard from you in a while," she answers, trying not to sound too pleased. The words leave her mouth surrounded by a thick white mist. The green in front of her is dark, mostly deserted, and buried under more than a foot of picturesque, collegiate snow.

"How's the higher education coming?" asks Edmund, in a pathetic attempt at small talk.

"It's good. Cold, though," she answers. Even inside her hideous winter boots and three layers of sweaters she is freezing. Her right hand is shoved into the pocket of her jeans, but there's nothing to be done about her left, stinging as it holds the cell to her rapidly reddening ear. "Can't wait to get home though," she says. "I hear global warming's made New York Decembers practically tropical."

"Actually, that's what I'm calling about," says Edmund. She can hear the note of guilt in his voice, even over the telephone. Most people, she knows, find Edmund expressionless. But to her he's always been an open book. A familiar book. An old favorite.

"My train's tomorrow night, late," she rushes, dreading what she knows is coming. "It would be great if you could pick me up. You know, be a gentleman, carry my bag."

"I think it would be best if you stay in Boston."

...

[twoskeletons.livejournal.com]

(Yeah I assumed we were writing American since we're talking about the FBI (sometimes). We can run with New York sure, makes it easy for the both of us. btw, in 8ish hours I'm leaving for the weekend, so I say just go ahead and add to this whenever, while I'm gone.)


"Is this about the family?" Lucy asks.

"No," says Edmund, and he isn't necessarily lying. "Well, not yet."


Lucy arrives at Penn Station at 12:34 AM the next night despite Edmund's protests, but it's not like he actually expected her to stay put anyway. At least this way, she is prepared.

"I told you, you know," Lucy says in the car. "I told you to cut off this Pendragon guy. He's too much of a loose cannon to be useful in the long term."

"We need to know someone legitimate," Edmund replies.

"How legitimate can he be if he hangs around with the likes of you?" she smirks, and he just smiles. "Do Peter and Susan know?"

"I haven't told them."

"That's not a 'no'."

"They'll know eventually. That much is inevitable. Once they do, I won't be the one deciding their level of involvement, But I would still prefer to contract out."

"When was the last time you talked to her?"

"Susan?" says Edmund, though he knows who Lucy means. "Look, Lu, we're here."

"Edmund--"

Someone opens the car door for them, and that's the end of this line of conversation for now. Edmund instructs Tumnus to park the car and bring the bags up, and then he and Lucy climb out into the throng of Christmas shoppers on the sidewalk. She automatically slips her arm around Edmund's, making their way to the doors of Paravel Towers.

"Happy holidays, miss, sir," says the doorman.

Edmund nods, and Lucy grins and says, "Same to you, Beaver! How's your wife?"

"She's lovely, she's lovely. Passes on her regards to you, you know."

"Likewise," says Lucy, and they sweep into the lobby.


In the penthouse of Paravel Towers, Susan is trying to decide between wines, and Peter is on his cellphone. Neither seem too happy with the situation given them.

and more.

[twoskeletons.livejournal.com]

Caspian di Telmar is only a young man, but then again, so is Edmund. So are they all. What Caspian lacks in experience, he makes up in money and allies inherited from his late uncle. He better learn how to use them, else there's going to be people like Edmund phoning in the middle of dinner calling in a favor promised years ago for reasons they all worked hard to keep out of the papers.

"Caspian," Edmund says, "would you mind finding out some information for me?" Like Caspian actually has the option to say no.


There is a knock on the bathroom door, and then there is Susan's voice. "Ed, are you going to hide in there all night?"

"Can't a man have some privacy?" Edmund calls out, cellphone flattened against his shoulder.

"Well, you've been in there twenty minutes. Lucy wants to know if you've fallen in."

"Funny, Su. Look, I'll be out in a minute."

"We're about to open another bottle, Edmund."

"I said I'll be out in a minute." He waits for Susan's footsteps to fade, then he says into the phone, "Look, I gotta go."

"Me too, man," says Caspian.

"We'll be in touch soon."

"Doubtless," and there's something wry in Caspian's tone that Edmund has to roll his eyes. "Merry Christmas to you and yours," Caspian says.

"Back atcha, buddy."

Edmund hangs up.