![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
we'll all get high down the old west side...
a. The worst part about re-reading bits of Captain Britain and MI13 is knowing that it's canceled. Where am I going to get more high-rent Torchwood with Magic and Vampires? :/
b. So, I've heard there are Torchwood casting sides posted. They are so DO NOT WANT I can't even. Instead, I'll go back to believing that series four will be Lois and Johnson and Gwen saving the planet. A lot.
c. the other bsg porn battle bits from me:
1. Domestic Bliss Athena/Helo
2. Field Trip Kara/Sam
3. Cruelty crossover with Blake's 7 Roslin/Servalan
4. It's Never Goodbye Dee/Lee
d. I swept the hallway. There are less tumbleweeds of cat fur now.
e. I wrote a ficlet at fandomsecrets, for this sekrit: http://i32.tinypic.com/ortg8z.png (Tara and Ianto, and tea)
There are things you get used to, in the afterlife. Tea with Ianto Jones is one of them. His accent makes you giggle a little, thinking of too much late-night PBS with Dawn, and crumpets.
You know better than to imply he's English, of course (you might have learned that the hard way, it wasn't one of your more enlightened moments being, well, enlightened--sometimes, you wonder if being in the afterlife is automatic enlightenment, or if it's a goal you work towards).
Being dead is different than being alive--this is obvious, but you can't exactly explain to an alive person what you mean. There's levels to you now, layers there weren't before.
Sometimes, there are fluffy clouds.
Mostly, it's just a waiting room or a train station--you haven't crossed that river yet, though there are rumors about the ferryman. You and Ianto have kept an eye out for him, though Ianto seems a bit as though he might like to go with him.
There are no dreams in the afterlife.
"I miss them," you say sometimes, because missing the living is allowed, even if there's nothing to do about it.
You know all about coming back from the dead, and it's definitely not for you. Ianto's Captain Harkness does, too, and you think that might be a different kind of not for you, as well.
There's something wrong about not dying.
"Gwen," he'll say in response, playing with his spoon, "She always used to leave these filthy mugs on her desk. Dipping her biscuits, I gathered."
"You've never seen filthy until you've cleaned up after a house full of teenagers." It's easy banter, contradicting Ianto is like breathing, like pouring tea out (you never really drink it, in the end).
Ianto flashes a slight smile, "Cleaning up after Weevils. Or Owen on a bender."
You know about Weevils now, they sound like something from the demonic plane. So does Owen, but comparing a soulless human to a vampire is always unkind. "Squid demons," you suggest, dropping another sugar cube into your cup.
"Snot aliens. No, seriously, they have no other name, and the stench--gah. Could never get it out of my blue shirt." He heaves a sigh.
You let him win the round, settling back in your chair as you cradle your cup. "Do you think they miss us?"
It's not really a question you should ask, and he knows it, too. For just a moment, his face looks grey and old. Then he replies, half-lightly, "Jack would never forget me."
The conversation changes, then, and you pour more tea. It's something you've gotten used to, now that you're dead.
b. So, I've heard there are Torchwood casting sides posted. They are so DO NOT WANT I can't even. Instead, I'll go back to believing that series four will be Lois and Johnson and Gwen saving the planet. A lot.
c. the other bsg porn battle bits from me:
1. Domestic Bliss Athena/Helo
2. Field Trip Kara/Sam
3. Cruelty crossover with Blake's 7 Roslin/Servalan
4. It's Never Goodbye Dee/Lee
d. I swept the hallway. There are less tumbleweeds of cat fur now.
e. I wrote a ficlet at fandomsecrets, for this sekrit: http://i32.tinypic.com/ortg8z.png (Tara and Ianto, and tea)
There are things you get used to, in the afterlife. Tea with Ianto Jones is one of them. His accent makes you giggle a little, thinking of too much late-night PBS with Dawn, and crumpets.
You know better than to imply he's English, of course (you might have learned that the hard way, it wasn't one of your more enlightened moments being, well, enlightened--sometimes, you wonder if being in the afterlife is automatic enlightenment, or if it's a goal you work towards).
Being dead is different than being alive--this is obvious, but you can't exactly explain to an alive person what you mean. There's levels to you now, layers there weren't before.
Sometimes, there are fluffy clouds.
Mostly, it's just a waiting room or a train station--you haven't crossed that river yet, though there are rumors about the ferryman. You and Ianto have kept an eye out for him, though Ianto seems a bit as though he might like to go with him.
There are no dreams in the afterlife.
"I miss them," you say sometimes, because missing the living is allowed, even if there's nothing to do about it.
You know all about coming back from the dead, and it's definitely not for you. Ianto's Captain Harkness does, too, and you think that might be a different kind of not for you, as well.
There's something wrong about not dying.
"Gwen," he'll say in response, playing with his spoon, "She always used to leave these filthy mugs on her desk. Dipping her biscuits, I gathered."
"You've never seen filthy until you've cleaned up after a house full of teenagers." It's easy banter, contradicting Ianto is like breathing, like pouring tea out (you never really drink it, in the end).
Ianto flashes a slight smile, "Cleaning up after Weevils. Or Owen on a bender."
You know about Weevils now, they sound like something from the demonic plane. So does Owen, but comparing a soulless human to a vampire is always unkind. "Squid demons," you suggest, dropping another sugar cube into your cup.
"Snot aliens. No, seriously, they have no other name, and the stench--gah. Could never get it out of my blue shirt." He heaves a sigh.
You let him win the round, settling back in your chair as you cradle your cup. "Do you think they miss us?"
It's not really a question you should ask, and he knows it, too. For just a moment, his face looks grey and old. Then he replies, half-lightly, "Jack would never forget me."
The conversation changes, then, and you pour more tea. It's something you've gotten used to, now that you're dead.
no subject
no subject
{eric roberts master}fewer tumbleweeds.{/eric roberts master}
no subject
no subject
no subject
Now, re: the Porn Battle. Honestly, what do you think: Aeryn Sun/Lee Adama?
no subject
no subject
(And, no, he wouldn't know how to handle her. But I like Lee with sort of bossy women who don't particularly want him to be a whipped puppy. Lee's more fun when he's meeting a challenge head-on, yes?
One of the prompts was "soldier." Of course, there was also "adrenaline"...)
no subject