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In our latest adventures in cracked-out AUs ('cause you know how we do) kel. and I came up with the Alias AU of our dreams. Just imagine it: Sark and Bristow Bristow and Sark Investigations.

For reasons not fully worked out but which are-- let me assure you-- extremely logical, former CIA agent Jack Bristow has started a private investigations firm. He has taken on as his partner former master criminal Julian Sark, a man who is putting his shady past to good use in pursuit of the more legitimate dollar. The men have a tentative trust and bicker a lot, but they're the best if you've got a problem you just can't take to the cops. The story would, of course, feature much in the way of post noir-ish narration courtesy Mr. Bristow and would probably start a little like:

It was another Tuesday. We hadn't had a case in three days and Sark was alternating between amusing himself by terrorizing our assistant with a loaded weapon and whining because the coffee from across the street tasted like swill and I was wondering what bitch I was going to have to choke. Then the door opened and everything changed.

Everything changed, of course, because a client walked in. A suave, rodent-like little man in round glasses and an expensive suit with a Mao-collar. Arvin Sloane. As fascinating as he is deadly. He would be bringing them a case. A problem involving three beautiful but deadly Russian women and a mysterious artifact. There might be a prophecy. But then, there might not, because Jack doesn't have a lot of time for bullshit. Sloane would need Bristow and Sark's help tracking the women down and recovering the artifact. Because kel. is partially in charge here and because there are conventions to be followed even in a cracked-out pseudo Sam Spade rip-off, Jack and Sloane would fall desperately in love, but resist and, of course, Sloane would betray Jack in the end, anyway.

Along the way, we'd meet Marcus Dixon, Jack's contact in the intelligence world and Marshall, their source for all things technological, weapon-like and cool. Jack and Sark would, of course, have a pleasant, straight-forward and witty assistant, Eric Weiss (yes, like Houdini). He'd always be trying to be more involved in their work and while a bright guy, he just wouldn't have the moral flexibility and ingenuity to be on Jack or Sark's level. But, (since I too have a wacky Alias OTP), Sark keeps him around because he's pretty and also fun to wave a gun at when he's bored. Throughout our story, we'd also come to find that Jack had a child from his mysterious marriage-- Sydney, a French caberet singer who works at a local bar. Sydney would visit the office occasionally on the way home from work in the morning and bring donuts and coffee from the shop across the street. Of course, this would all be a translucent excuse to spend time with the donut-boy, Michael Vaughn who is desperately in love with Sydney.

And so it goes in the world of wacky OTP-tastic AUs that our brains churn out like so much sawdust. Also, since I haven't posted in awhile, I feel that this is an opportunity to note that [livejournal.com profile] peter_and_fran (aka the wacky OTP-tastic AU that we're actually writing) was updated on Wednesday with a part that I like to refer to as "the weeping". I always cackle after this. Because I like to make people cry. Or something. It will, as usual, also be updated later today, but kel.'s on top of that and she's been galivanting around the NY, so I am unsure on the time. Still, watch out for that.

Quick Long, rambling and possibly overly defensive thoughts about Lost are also in order )

Now I have one more task and then I watch Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World. Mmmmm...relaxing day.

ALSO! imogen and I watched QAF 312-314 last night and they showed a new promo for the season 5 premiere. Want now, please and thank you. May 22, nownownownownownownow. Ahem.
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We spend a lot of time in our little red apt coming up with cracked-out LotRPS AUs. Some might say we do it like it's our job. But sometimes, just occasionally, one rises up out of the crackhouse and requests, no DEMANDS to be written. Such was the case with Peter and Fran. So [livejournal.com profile] imogennegomi, [livejournal.com profile] paintedmaypole, [livejournal.com profile] smartlikejustin and [livejournal.com profile] throughadoor took time out of our busy schedule of watching Alias and um... talking about Alias? to write it.

A little ditty 'bout a rock and roll band. Viggo and Dom/Billy, Orlando and the Seans. Elijah and Daisy. Karl, Liv and Sala, too. Lawrence and Bernard will be there and perhaps even Miranda, Cate and Ian. A little number about art and music, friendship and love. And also, fair trade.

In that standard sort of posting a WiP way, let me assure you that we are committed. We have arcs. We have the first arc entirely written. We'll be posting twice a week until the story is actually completed. I mean, there's four of us. We can do this. I promise. So, check it out.

This is...[livejournal.com profile] peter_and_fran
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The thing about Garth Brooks, is that he's a triple threat. He does hearfelt (and often tragic) love songs ("If Tomorrow Never Comes", "The Dance"). He does inspirational songs about the downtrodden ("We Shall Be Free", "Standing Outside the Fire"). And, of course, he does the rowdy drinking songs ("Two Pina Coladas", "Friends in Low Places"). Also, the other thing about Garth Brooks is that EVERY song is "Build My World" -- meaning that every song requires melodramatic overacting and singing along1. Something I defintely enjoy.

Garth has a few main motifs/themes. There's thunder/storms and fire, both representing desire of any type. There's booze, representing most often a sort of bittersweet defensive happiness. And then. Then there's the RODEO. The rodeo seems to represent a rebellious uncontrolled obsessive passion that is exhilarating, but ultimately tragical. If robots from the future unearthed and listened to the work of Garth, they'd probably surmise that the leading destroyer of relationships in late twentieth-century America was the rodeo. I know this may seem crazy at first2, but I think symbolically, they might just be right.

We were in the car on Sunday, driving home from Target and listening to "Rodeo"3 and, as is my wont, I immediately outlined a LotRPS AU where the rodeo would hold its rightful place. Picture it! Orlando is a young man living in a small town, just finished with school, unsure of his place in the world. He spends his days flopped across a sofa in his friend Billy's basement, smoking up and listening to Billy fuck around with his guitar and wishing he had something exciting to do. Then. The Rodeo comes to town. Billy's not really into the whole thing, but they live in fucking Wyoming or something, and Orli keeps saying it'll be fun, so what the hell? So off they go, everyone's there, it's dusty and loud and they shove their way to the front of the stands. And then it happens. Orlando finds his Reason. In the ring-- being tossed around by the noble bronco, holding on for dear life, chap-clad thighs clenching-- is the most fascinating thing Orlando has ever seen.

Viggo is a hardened, passionate, obsessive cowboy4 (often associated with both thunder and fire), this has been his only dream since he was a boy. He thinks about nothing but the bulls and the blood, the dust and the mud, the roar of a Sunday crowd. The only person who he considers a friend is Sean Bean, another cowboy, but just a working rodeo man, not anything matching Viggo in his level of committment. Sean knows that someday he'll leave the rodeo and have a family, but he knows Viggo never will, he'll die like he lives, on the back of a bull.

Orlando makes his way to the stables, dragging Billy along. There they meet Dom, the kicky, witty, comic relief stable hand. He and Billy hit it off instantly5. Orlando asks about Viggo and Dom just shakes his head, says "many a pretty boy has had his heart broken. he only loves the rodeo, mate." Orlando is not daunted. He's been waiting for this to arrive, waiting for the thing to bring thunder and fire into his life of steady grey-blue skies. So they make friends with Dom and Sean and eventually Viggo. Things happen, as they do. Viggo and Orlando fall in love. Viggo is everything Orlando expected. But soon, as always happens, it comes time for the rodeo to move on to the next town.

Now here, here is where the story becomes a bit of a choose-your-own-adventure psychotic break.

Ending One (aka the tragedy): Viggo refuses to stay, breaking Orlando's heart and traveling on to the next city. Orlando soon realizes that his life means nothing now without Viggo. He follows the rodeo to meet them in the next city. He reunites with Viggo and they watch the storm rage in each other's eyes. Then Viggo goes out and draws a bull no man can ride. Orlando is devestated, unable to go on because if life without Viggo was bad at least he knew that the Man was out there somewhere, taming a bull with his thighs of steel. Now, he's just more dust under the hooves. Orlando returns home and his life is even emptier than before.

Ending Two (aka the happy): Viggo won't stay, he can't give up the rodeo, but of course, Orlando would never want him to. Orlando has nothing in this town except Billy and his pot and with a little help from Dom, he can take both of those with him. He hitches his wagon to the rodeo and even if he is second to the rodeo in Viggo's heart, that's enough for Orlando.

Ending Three (aka the realistic6): Orlando's life is changed by Viggo and it's like there are colors he never saw before. But, in his new, wiser state, Orlando knows that Viggo can never love him like he loves the rodeo, and Orlando deserves more than to be second best. He turns and there, just over Viggo's leather-clad, manly shoulder is the warm grin of Sean. And Orlando gets it now, Viggo changed him, but Sean is what he was waiting for. Sean leaves the rodeo and they move to a larger town and start a life together. They see Viggo when he passes through and they miss him, but they do it together and they know that they're first in each other's hearts.

So, WHAT DO YOU DO?

And I know this story has been written in at least three other fandoms I've been in (most notably popslash, possibly twice), but I don't care because every cracked out AU is special in the eyes of Allah.


1. Just as I said this, k8 commented that Hoobastank's "The Reason" was compelling her to sing earnestly and pound the air like me listening to "BMW". Really.
2. And all subsequent times as well, I'm sure.
3. Which, btw, is followed immediately by "The Beaches of Cheyenne"-- a song in which the rodeo kills a man, drives his widow to suicide and apparently causes the entire state of Wyoming to flood like Noah's Biblical homeland. Not that anyone seems to miss the state.
4. Because I too saw Hidalgo, thanks.
5. In case you were worried, I haven't forgotten my beloved OTP. They're still the one, the only.
6. Yes, I said REALISTIC. Do you have a PROBLEM WITH THAT!?


Also, new journal colors/default for Feb. New entire layout, actually. And now, I think food and then Alias. Tomorrow I might even make an actual coherent post about something that isn't completely insane.
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I got up this morning, I got dressed, I did up my make-up and packed a bag and made a lunch. I put on my boots. And then imogen told me that she wasn't going to work today. Evil evil temptress! So, yes, called in. Or, emailed rather, because it's easier when I don't have to talk to anyone. kel. also stayed home, but that was pre-planned. We're having a bit of a sick-in-- you know, watching FotR, catching up on LJ, making icons, hating people, etc. It's been enjoyable.

One of the things about watching FotR is that there's Boromir. And I sometimes forget about Boromir until he's there in all his Sean Bean, complicated man, Gondor-lovin', dirty-haired glory. Man, do I looooove me some Boromir. The entire phenomenon is much like how when I watch RotK, I remember Eomer. And the thing about Boromir and Eomer is that in some other place and time and space where Boromir isn't my DEAD Gondorian boyfriend, he'd still be part of the Fellowship when they meet the Rohirrim and he and Eomer would meet and there would be distrust, but ultimately, they're very of a type and they would, of course, become good friends and ultimately fall in love (because that's what happens, okay?) and ride horses and kill things with swords or spears and pull stray bits of things out of each other's filthy hair and discuss the merits of beard vs. just stubble. When not traversing Middle Earth, leading their armies and keeping the world of men free of any small bands of rogue evil doers and brigands, they'd split their time between Edoras and Gondor. In Gondor, they'd roll their eyes a lot when Aragorn goes on about how hard it is being the King of Men, because you know, they're still not kinds, but it's okay and they're mostly kidding 'cause he's their good friend and ally and really they wouldn't want to be kings anyway because neither of them is cut out for government work. And they'd have weekly dinners with Faramir and Eowyn and be fantastic uncles who help teach the children to ride and swordfight and tell them tales of war and halflings and all their storied ancestors and Boromir and Faramir would share a moment of bitter regret when Denethor was mentioned and later Eomer would listen as Boromir tells him about the time before his father lost touch with reality and--

OMG I'm completely insane, but it's all TRUE. Boromir/Eomer rivals Legolas/Gimli1 and Merry/Pippin as my LotR OTP, except that, you know, THEY NEVER EVEN MEET ONE ANOTHER. Oh, the tragedy. But, the thing is, as crazy as all this is, it gets crazier because I realized that the solution to my problem is to create a universe where they can interact. And, clearly, the best way to do this is to write an au set in a boarding school for boys from wealthy and powerful Middle Earth families.2 Right? Right. Boromir and Eomer would be very popular, captain of the lacrosse team and the polo team, and good friends with Aragorn, the mysterious and somewhat troubled hot class president, beloved by the ladies of the nearby Finishing School and other typical boarding school tropes. And they spend a lot of time wearing ties and white button downs and mocking/defending Boromir's younger brother who does theater and math club. Even Legolas would show up as the strange foreign student whose obsession with cleanliness and lack of real facial expressions leaves everyone confused, but entranced. Of course, Legolas would only have eyes for his good family friend Aragorn and join all his committees and teams and he'd barely tolerate the coarseness of Aragorn's friends, but he would. And the whole thing would be run by Professor Gandalf. Uh-huh.

This is why I just want to stay home and get paid to write badfic ALL THE TIME. Because this is what I come up with just for kicks, I feel that if I were actually employed in such a task, I'd really really come up with some HORRIBLE ideas and just crank out the badness like it was so much popcorn from one of those crazy carnival popcorn popping carts or something.

Um. I feel that the conlusion to that psychotic break you all just witnessed would be to note that I've added some people to my friendslist on rec from trusted sources (kel. actually said to me "I can't say enough good things about her" in one case), so. Um. I'm not always this scary? Right3. Let's go with that.

In other news, my dear friend girlcakes arrives in just a few hours. kel. and I will be picking her up at ye olde Logan airport and I am goddamned excited about that. I passed up a free trip to Miami, I like C so much and I can't wait for her to get here so we can talk about Orlando Bloom and what he'll explain next and watch Wizard People (with aral! eeeep!) and make inappropriate jokes and watch the Shannon/Boone story play out in our hearts over and over and over. There may also be a fight to the death because it's Pats/Colts weekends and I'm pretty sure that both Tom Brady and Peyton Manning's heritage and sexual orientation will be brought into question. But, it might be tamed as we've invited people over during the time of the game and so can't actually watch it.

1. Speaking of Legolas/Gimli (as I do) I may as well tell you now before kel. outs me, that I am also crazy about this topic. Because see, they're SO PERFECT. They're absolutely classic "I Hate You, We Must Fall In Love Later" romantic comedy set-up. The pretty blond is in love with an unattainable hottie (i.e. Aragorn) who is a great friend, but really truly in love with another. Enter the irritable, significantly less attractive man who represents everything the blond hates (i.e. poor hygiene, shortness, stupid one-liners) and who expresses nothing but contempt for the blond. The two are, of course, forced to work together and slowly slowly slowly develop and trust and a friendship and an understanding. As this is happening, the blond is learning about life and serious things (i.e. death, endangered hobbits, orcs) and coming to see that while the hottie is certainly the be all, end all of humanity, the blond needs to let him go for everyone's sake because who is he to mess with true love? And then! Just as he's given up on love, he looks to his side (or, behind him on the horse, perhaps) and there's this new friend. And after all they've been through together and all they've learned, they realize that they've created their own love. Then they kick the bad guy's ass and GO ON A HONEYMOON TO ONE ANOTHER'S HOMELANDS. Uh-huh.

2. I had to stop at this point to watch Boromir's death sequence. And OMG. That is to this day the only part of the three films that still makes me cry. It's SO AMAZING. That's a place where Jackson uses slo-mo to great effect. Merry and Pippin! Boromir thinks he's failed! Aragorn! OMG, WEEPING!

3. Things I would have posted about had the insanity not overtaken me: Lost, Augusten Burrough's Running With Scissors, work, Dead Guy pool, how there's a place where Sephora is across the hallway from Krispy Kreme and that place is my heaven. That's less scary, I promise.


Okay. That's all. OH! EXCEPT THIS: Orlando Bloom Explains...Terrorism/Lightning. BEST THING EVER!
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I'm pretty sure that [livejournal.com profile] lisew is going to kill me. I mean, I'm as sure of this as I am that BOOK SIX comes out in 205 days, 22 hours, 21 minutes and 35 seconds as of this moment. You know, just to pull an analogy out of nowhere.

Unrelatedly, have submitted [livejournal.com profile] shackinup_sesa fic and [livejournal.com profile] yuletide fic. Since I can't do it for real 'til later, thanks to [livejournal.com profile] throughadoor, [livejournal.com profile] imogenegomi, and [livejournal.com profile] circusgirl for the betas. Winning at life never felt so hard. To ease the pain, I give you a meme.

Faaaaanfiction writing survey )

And dude, why am I still awake? Why am I watching Wizard People, Dear Reader? Oh, right. Because kel. forced me. Well, she'll get hers when REMUS AND TONKS GET MARRIED IN A LOVELY CEREMONY JUST BEFORE PETER COMES IN WITH HIS SILVER HAND AND KILLS REMUS JUST AS SIRIUS POPS OUT OF THE LINT TRAP, SEES REMUS'S DEAD BODY AND FIGURES "OH HEY, WITH REMUS DEAD, GUESS I'LL MARRY TONKS" SO THEY HAVE A CEREMONY AT WHICH THEODORE NOTT IS THE BEST MAN.

Okay, this is just getting silly. Night, yo.
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I was storming about, making declarative statements with elaborate hand gestures as I'm wont to do and noting that a Brian story is of little use if it isn't truly, secretly, deeply a Brian/Justin story. Unless of course, it's a Brian/Emmett story. Except all Brian/Emmett stories should be Emmett stories. Because, can you imagine it from Brian's POV?

and i think there was dirt on his pink plaid pants: a Brian/Emmett story
by K, aged 26 and 5 months.

"This guy sucked my cock once. Now we're friends. I don't have friends." Brian frowned, looked like he'd tasted something unpleasant. "I blame Michael."

The End

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