lyssie: (I am Jack Harkness's surprised look)
Scott Summers - manic pixie dream girl
lyssie: (If we told you what it meant we'd have t)
Sorry, there was a random impromptu Not Paying Attention To Anything. And I'm back now. I'm only at skip 160, dudes. That is just sad

1. I came across this on my travels: In a statement, SFX said:
Revisionists would have you believe that Who was always a show with emotional impact, but barring a couple of companion departures, that didn't really become true until the advent of Russell T Davies.


No. No. You are wrong and everything you will ever think or say is wrong.

2. I suppose it's a good thing I pay no attention to magazines these days (but OH my collection. It's sitting over on a box right now because I was digging for old Avengers issues out of boredom last week)

3. Matt Fraction's Sex Criminals is entirely ridiculous, but hilarious and very readable. I read the TPB. And then I read it again right after. It was that kind of night.

4. I did Summerfest last week. Wednesday was the Airborne Toxic Event (not bad, I think I liked them better when we saw them two years ago? idk). Thursday was New Order (OMG THEY HAVEN'T BEEN HERE IN 25 years. /old). NO were amazing and lovely and the new stuff they played had an excellent beat. Sadly, the vocals were drowned in the WALL OF SOUND. unf.

4a. However, before I saw New Order, I suffered two hours of the dullest DJ ever. DJ Whitney? Please never play anywhere near me again. For reals. THE SAME SONG OVER AND OVER AND OVER.

5. But at least it meant I plowed my way through most of Neil Penswick's The Pit, Good god, were large parts of that book dull. And let's talk about disjointed. And I felt like the end was very rushed. I really liked the Benny and Spike bits, though (especially how he never 'broke his programing'). I seem to recall liking this NA a lot more in my younger days. It also felt like Penswick was still stuck on the early Seven characterization, which fell a bit flat for, um, me. Because Seven is clearly the trickster who's playing tiddly winks while everyone else is Seriously Into Chess.

6. After my Ponds and Clara marathon over the weekend, I've been reading lots of fic. It's hard to find in-character stuff. There's a lot that almost manages it, but then Amy or Rory will say 'arse' and it throws me out (yes, yes, I know it is something UK people say. I just can't imagine Rory or Amy saying it. Clara, yes. Especially Victorian!Clara). Even worse are the crossovers where Amy, Rory, River and Eleven tell everyone their life stories. All. The. Time.

No. No, they wouldn't. They're all very private people. Eleven may babble, but there are some secrets he'd never tell (and River and Amy and Rory are secrets ffs)

(I am suddenly intrigued at more thoughts of Pryde & Wisdom vs Daleks, which is neither hide nor hair to this)

7. Still working. Should post about it at some point, and talk about how out of my depth I'm feeling at times.

bleh.

Jan. 1st, 2007 08:14 pm
lyssie: (Sharon - eleanor rigby)
1. Alive. Yay. Had lots of fun and watched crack!TV, and, um... Gabrielle in Indiana Jones wear? Can I have one?

2. I would really like my brain connected to the internets. All the lovely meta I had is clear gone. As is the bits and pieces of fic.

3. I'm still, however, disturbed at the rampant Xena/Gabrielle I was considering. wtf? I've seen all of ten episodes...

4. Someone needs to write me Vala Mal Doran/Samuel T. Anders fic. Possibly smut.

4a. Because it would be hot.

4b. Srsly.

5. Quin sort of missed us.

6. have pjs. yay.

asfdghjk

Dec. 16th, 2006 11:08 am
lyssie: (cyberman zomgwtf)
I'm currently in love with this line:

"Jean thinks it's ironic that she and Elizabeth Braddock have shared lovers, yet still remain careful (so very careful) with each other."

Now. If I could just fucking finish the damn fic it goes with.
lyssie: (save a battery)
Seen this a few places, finally got bored. Plus, omg, I can add stats from what I've sent home from work...

See, I type while I'm at work. I sometimes have huge drafts saved in gmail for myself. Sometimes, they are tiny. Sometimes, I don't send anything at all. Most of the fic I've written recently (barring 99% of the porn) was started or worked on while at work.

Some stats, from my file from work...
Words typed in November: 13,953 (this includes fic, random commentary and lyrics)
Days sent something home: 17

'Cause I'm nice )
lyssie: (Specialist Cally said we'd write)
So, like, dude. Last night, Timey and I watched episodes with the sound off and made shippy comments, and decided there should be a Babylon 5: The High School Years.

No, really.

"But, Garibaldi, how do I know if she likes me?"

"...John, you are such a putz. Just ask her already!"

er... yes.

Anyway. And tonight, we watched the same episode, with the commentary track--and it's the guys being completely bouncy. And turning the Doc and Garibaldi into an old married couple... o.O

B5, where the slash is thick on the ground, and no one gets left behind.
lyssie: (Sam - Take me)
challenge is for someone to write a fic where Sam watches the [last episode of JAG] and then puts the paralle[l]s of her life and Mac's life (the two fiance thing...in love with partner/team member..etc.) together and then somehow ends up with Jack.

Far be it for me to STOP creativity.

Dear flist. Please. Go forth. Write Sam watching JAG.

And remember to label it properly.

(if you can kill off Daniel and bring back Jonas, all the better)
lyssie: (Kitty - That's what..)
omg. I suddenly have a desire to write AU Excalibur fic wherein Kitty explains to Cerise what kissing is all about.

I so have lesbians on the brain.
lyssie: (Jonas - You're really not that bright)
SG-1, but could spread out...

The beginning I don't have clear. Story opens with Jack captured by some guy on Earth, who's not nice. He treats his young wife really badly, and they've got a baby. For some reason, they're out in the middle of nowhere, in the open air.

Jack convinces the girl that Bly (dude, in my dream, he was John Bly, and I'm gonna call him that) is an ass, and she deserves more, etc. And so does her son. Her kid is her weak spot.

They break out, but have to leave the kid behind (shhh).

Somehow, they end up seperated, and the girl takes her courage in hand and goes back to get the kid. Bly verbally abuses her, tells her she's a slut, etc., but she gets away from him.

Unfortunately, she figures it's only a matter of time before he catches up to her, and she wants her kid safe, so she tries to track Jack down. But she doesn't know his last name, only that he works at Cheyenne Mountain (which may've been why Bly had him. May not), so she goes there.

The SFs at the gate won't let her in, and she's all paranoid, but one of them asks if she means Colonel O'Neill, and she says yes (figuring she's got nothing to lose), and they try to call him and get his machine. She's not patient, though, in fact, she starts to panic that Bly will show up any second and take the kid, and the SFs won't stop him, blah, blah, so she gets a sheet of paper and writes Jack a note begging him to take care of the kid, and that's she's grateful he tried to help.

And then she walks into hell (I love that line). Or drives, really.

Jack, who for some reason, was with Carter, eventually turns up at the Mountain, and discovers the kid and the note and stalks out to the car. Sam, who has a basic idea of what went on, tells them that under no circumstances is anyone but herself or Colonel O'Neill to deal with the kid (and kind of leaves them with the impression that the kid is their's), and Hammond should be contacted, blah, blah.

From the car is the impatient shout of, "CARTER!"

They drive to the remote place where Jack was being held, and Bly and company (yes, he has other people working for him) aren't there.

Final scene is Jack holding the kid while watching the news report about the Jane Doe who was found brutally tortured and killed. And Jack softly explaining to the kid that his mom was very special and he should never forget that.

Mwahahahah. I feel I've done my duty for the day.
lyssie: (aliensexfiend Jool)
So, anyway, in half-awake Lyssie Land, I was pondering the fact that if SG-1 were mini! and in high school, then, well, Jack would have Sam, and Teal'c would be all practical and stoic... But Daniel wouldn't have anyone.

Which led to my brain suggesting Janet get mini'd.

But I needed a plausible explanation. And she demanded needles.

So, Janet is mini!Janet because big!Sam and big!Janet had a discussion about how there might be times that the SGC is not available to, uh, make sure the mini!s are in good health (and monitor the clone thing and such). So, they talk to Thor, and Thor is disturbed.

Cue pixie!Janet appearing in hs.

She is not a happy pixie.

Neither are they, because her big self gave her a very comprehensive medical kit including needles.

So, no. Janet is not happy with me.

There's also a tiny ficlet in Sam and Janet being drunk and Sam whining because her miniself gets Jack and she can't have him.

... you people have rotted my brain.
lyssie: (Hammond what would you like)
They were... mostly boring, I think until the one that the cat kept waking me up from this morning (and the alarm, too).

Jack O'Neill and Sam Carter were detectives. Partners, even. They were investigating a series of murders at a grocery store where Hammond was the Store Director. And one of Hammond's managers wanted to date him (and vice versa). And there was fluffy stuff and a bbq wherein everyone mocked George and his girl horribly.

And then S/J got caught making out somewhere, and Hammond called her 'Captain' which actually makes no sense, because she's a detective, not a desk job girl...

ERm.

I don't know who did the killings...

And I woke up.

And I have Kitty and Rachel taunting Sam Guthrie in my head...

....wow...

Sep. 18th, 2004 10:26 am
lyssie: (shiptroll)
So. Scary fic idea going through my head. I should be in bed, man. But I can't sleep. The cat won't let me, for one thing. (hey, we have Cheerios...)
Contains a s8 spoiler or two.
Read more... )
lyssie: (aliensexfiend)
Have I mentioned lately how much I hate the characters in my brain? Yeah. I do.

So, as mentioned, Paul Davis stole my brain in the shower last night. And I wrote him (he had cute eyes, and he kept saying no one EVER writes him.... How could I resist?), and then posted. And went to bed.

And everything was fine. I had dreams about Underworld, actually.

Walked to work this morning. Halfway there, I suddenly have Daniel Jackson walking next to me, hands in his pockets. He's mumbling at me, shooting me these sad little, "Our lives suck" looks. And. Fucking hell. I now have something that vaguely resembles a series. Because I know where it's going. Or where it might go. And I know why Daniel had to be next. And Teal'c gets to tell some of it, too.

But, see, Daniel also clued me in to this little fact. Sam's already told her bit. Lovefool.

Almost a timeline.

This, of course, while walking. To work. I swore at him. Aloud. Caused a few people I was walking by to eye me oddly. Got rained on. My computer still wasn't all mine, so I sat and wrote most of Daniel's thing.

Worked.

Walked home barefoot. Harry Maybourne decided to come break his sanity in my head (during Paradise Lost, sadly). So I had to write that. And then Daniel's thing (which isn't finished. The Harry thing is, and it's weird). And, soon, the next piece of the puzzle.

And I still haven't figured out what the hell is at the center of this...

I also have Jean Grey flopped on a couch in the Plot Weasel room. She keeps mocking Lestat (who should really know better. She IS a redhead, after all), and smirking any time I think of writing anything X.

The woman is an evil bitch.

...Ah, it's the Sam and Jack get drunk and screw song... "What were you thinking/what was I drinking/when you staged that little coup" -- Jane Wiedlin 'Fallen'.

(or the Jo and Roper, Jean and Scott, Kitty and Random Guy, Dom and Nate, Paige Guthrie and Jono.... Just... about any perfect random person, falling for the Wrong Person... Ok, so that doesn't apply to Dom and Nate. Still... ;) song)

Should go sleep. Must get up for work.

Dear, GOD, do I hate work.

*snicker*

May. 23rd, 2004 12:42 pm
lyssie: (aliensexfiend)
Had to stick this up. Going through these old fic files is... amusing.

Random spammy paragraphs...

"John keeping sane is like a bastardisation of the Myth of Sisyphus. Of course, John's sanity is the rock that keeps rolling down the hill. Except with John, he pushes it to the top, it rolls back down, and it shatters."

He's always liked the rain. Oh, it's a cliche, certainly. The angsting hero always needs the soul-searing destructive power of the rain to cleanse his soul. And his soul, more than others, could certainly do with a spring cleaning. Cordy had once suggested Spik'n'Span. Most people don't think about the calming effects of a hundred thousands tons of water sluicing over your body in particle-droplet form. Or maybe they're too uptight to understand why Gene Kelly loved it.

Creegan/Taylor:
"I did once want to be a baker."
"You can't even cook."
"How do you know?"
"Well--"
"Dinner. Tonight. My flat."
"Maybe."

Also, have found some strange original stuff I don't remember writing. Or, I remember it vaguely, but have *no* clue where it was going...

And bad limericks.

There once was a merc named Dom
Who was lucky a lot with aplomb
She knew a Messiah
Who thought she was fine-ah
He tended to blow her up with a bomb

And Buffy: the Musical! (never to be finished) leaves me with these immortal lines...

ANGEL
Angst
It's what I'm here for
Angst
It's my modus operandi
Angst
It's my immortal forte
Angst
I can't stop doing it

....hrm. Not giving up my day job.

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