syllic: ([genkill] assured of this)
What the subject line says.

Uh. This is what happens When LJ Comment Conversations Go Bad. Very Bad. But Also Good.

Say [livejournal.com profile] pyrimidine says to you, "...naked with a gun and a cat...AND RAY PERSON".

And you're like, no. But [livejournal.com profile] pyrimidine is like, yes.

Then you write

Eames/Ray Person,

rated R for language and suggestion and ridiculous antics

inspired by the sort of man who sits on radiators wearing fingerless gloves, with a pink tint around his eyes,

based on fictionalised portrayals as seen on the HBO miniseries, and

approximately 3,000 words long.

Its title is: EAMES AND RAY, RULING THE WORLD, ONE CAT AND GUN AT A TIME or, Gun and Cat, a Love Story, or, A Gun-Wielding Cat: An Animal Metaphor For Ray Person, or, Catfights, with Guns, or, Is That a Gun or Are You Just Happy To See Me? / It's Both, and Here's a Cat, Too, or, GUNCAT!

by [livejournal.com profile] pyrimidine, who is infinitely cooler than [livejournal.com profile] syllic, and also, by [livejournal.com profile] syllic, who had a beer on an empty stomach on... well. You get the picture.

(MERLIN TONIGHT! I welcome the opportunity to watch them do something with the dragon that makes my despair over In Possession of a Fortune even greater. No, actually--I kind of do. Problematic?)


Then there's the fact that there's a cat, a gun, and Ray fucking Person sitting on the other side of the bed, exactly in that order. )




[Poll #1617722]




(ETA: Hahaha, oh, Merlin, back with your funky Anglo-Saxon. But ooh, Merlin, call out to me all angry-like, baby.)
syllic: ([words] star wars therapy)
--why there isn't better Twilight fic out there?

I mean, a lot of the time, flawed canons (with points of strange/you-wish-it-wouldn't/just plain old straightforward appeal) make the best transformative work-inspiring canons. And if there ever was a flawed canon (hoo boy) with just said points of appeal...

This is clearly a question that requires much thought. In the short term, however, fear not.

[livejournal.com profile] arlad and I have decided to answer the call for higher-quality transformative works in this arena, and I believe we have succeeded resoundingly.

Without further ado, we present

BABYLON TWILIGHT: A Short Novella

"I'll never fit in at this rainy school," though Justin Taylor to himself as he stumbled up the stairs, having to catch himself as he fell face-first towards the stone and making a small incision on both his palms, which he was used to from doing it many times before.

"Hey, you're Justinious Taylor, right?" asked a tall, friendly guy in a pink bedazzled shirt.

"Just Justin," said Justin, awkardly sticking out his bloody hand.

"Hi, Justin, I'm Emmett," said the guy in the bedazzled shirt. "Aren't you from like, Pittsburgh? Aren't people from Pittsburgh supposed to be like, tan?"

"No," said Justin.

Justin would never have moved here if his mother, Jennifer, weren't the taciturn town sheriff with a big heart.

SOME (DAZZLING) MONTHS LATER...

"JUSTIN!" screamed Brian.

"It's his spine," said Ethan sadly, shaking his wolfy, shaggy head.

As he watched, Brian pulled out a heaving, bloodied mass from Justin's ruined form. Ethan hated it. But no, wait. He loved it.

"Hello, Ethan," it said in a musical voice. "My name is Michael."


(c) [livejournal.com profile] arlad. PLS CREDIT & COMMENT IF YOU USE! BLANK MANIPS ARE NOT BASES!

(You can't see it, but that baby has eight toes on each foot.)

No need to thank us, people. None at all.

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