Fics and Things

garrideb @ 2009-12-08T20:36:00

2009-12-09T02:36:17Z

Due to inclement weather, all clinics at the UW Hospital will open at 10 tomorrow... except for the transplant clinic, which will still open at 7:30. And I'll be the only MA, as the other two don't live in town and probably won't be able to make it in. You know what? I'm looking forward to working solo. I think it'll be refreshing. Plus, there'll be tons of cancelled appointments, so I doubt I'll be swamped.

The bus was so crowded tonight that my nose was practically touching the windshield, true story. You know that 'no people beyond this line' line? There were like, eight of us beyond that line. Better than waiting half an hour for the next bus, though.

Anyone want Christmas cards? If you trust me with your address, I'll send a Christmas card from the 77 square miles of awesome otherwise known as Madison.

garrideb @ 2009-12-04T22:51:00

2009-12-05T04:51:16Z

We had our first real snow of the year - not much, but enough to send my car sliding a couple times as I drove to a friends house. Driving aside, I love snow. I have to wear a hat and gloves and boots to and from work, and the cold drains the battery on my iPod like a vampire, but I love it.

I read a few scenes from my favorite book The Left Hand of Darkness in celebration. It's a book set on a planet called Winter, and my favorite part of the story is when two characters with a wildly complicated relationship must spend three months crossing a vast tundra. The beautiful and terrifying descriptions of traveling through a white-out cross my mind whenever I walk through snow flurries.

The transplant clinic's holiday party is tomorrow, and I guess I'm going. There's going to be horse-drawn carriage rides, which is enough to tempt me. I'm hoping to get some nice pictures of snowy scenery, and horses are always a bonus for those kinds of pictures.

Fic - Other Fish in the Sea

2009-11-23T01:18:24Z

Fandom: Psych
Pairing: Juliet/April (from the ep Six Feet Under the Sea)
Warnings: None
Word Count ~2600
Summary: Juliet isn't a sore loser. She didn't land Shawn, and now she just wants to put it behind her.

She couldn’t blame Shawn for her own crappy timing, Juliet realized, and the thought just made her more miserable. It was a Friday evening shortly after the Mr. Yang case - the one where Shawn amazed them all by catching a notorious serial killer; the one where Shawn's mother was kidnapped; and yeah, the one where Juliet asked Shawn out on a date while he was apparently already out on a date.

She had just gotten off work and was getting in her car. Tomorrow was her day off, and she had no plans for either tonight or tomorrow. It was sad, and it was allowing her to dwell on her even sadder crush on Shawn.

Well, no, not a crush. A crush implied schoolgirl innocence and unreturned infatuation. This was different. Juliet was attracted to Shawn, and she knew that Shawn was attracted to her, too.

This wasn’t her as a girl, standing in the band room and playing nervously with her snap bracelet while working up the courage to talk to the cute boy sitting at the piano. This was her as an adult, weighing her relationship with Shawn and finally willing to move forward. And this was her, shot down.

You know what you need? An inner voice asked. Go out for pineapple smoothies with your girlfriends, Jules. It was probably a bad sign that her inner voice sounded like Shawn.

What girlfriends? She asked inner-Shawn. This isn’t Sex and the City.

Inner-Shawn didn’t respond, possibly shocked into silence or possibly distracted by something shiny. Juliet sighed. She did have friends, mostly from school, but they were scattered across the west coast and not the kinds of friends she could call up for a drink on short notice.

The closest she’d come to having those those kinds of friends was her stint on the roller derby team. She frowned thoughtfully; they hadn’t all been vicious criminals. Maybe Sally Scythe and Hazardous Waster had forgiven her for arresting half the team..?

No, she didn’t want to poke that hornet’s nest, but it did give her an idea. She had met a kindred soul on a different case recently. They hadn’t kept in touch, but Juliet thought she still had her number. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contact list. Yes, there it was - April’s number.

Just thinking of April’s cheerful nature and earnest love of sea life warmed Juliet. Satisfied with her decision, she slipped on her ear bud and pressed the call button.

She felt her stomach flutter when April picked up with a sunny, “Is there a problem, officer?” So April had kept her number, too.

Juliet responded in kind, easily slipping into a professional demeanor. “I wanted to check up on how things are going at the aquarium. No trouble with coworkers? Unusual activity? Suspicious deaths?” Okay, perhaps she spent too much time with Lassiter.

“The sting ray in the east tank died unexpectedly, but we’ve ruled out foul play.”

Juliet grinned. “Look, my social life is pretty nonexistent right now, and I was wondering if you had any plans.”

There was a long pause, and Juliet was starting to get nervous. Then April replied with an unexpected burst of words. “This is perfect! There’s this new club I’ve heard about called the Octopus’s Garden that I’ve been dying to check out, but I didn’t want to go alone. Of course, if you’re not into clubs we could do something else.”

“No, no - clubbing sounds great! What kind of club is it?” She asked, wondering what to wear.

“I don’t really know.”

“Well, what have you heard about it?”

“Just the name, actually. Isn’t it an awesome name? If I had to guess, I’d say it’s a groovy oldies-themed club. Or a bondage club.”

Juliet frowned, wondering what kind of outfit would cover both possibilities.

“Oh, and can you pick me up at the aquarium? I rode my bike here, and I’d hate to have helmet hair at a new club.”

“Don’t you need to change?” Juliet asked, fishing for an idea of what April would be wearing, at the very least. She hated being odd man out when it came to clothes. She still flushed when thinking of the prom dress incident.

“I’ve got several changes of clothes in my office, and the aquarium has a nice shower. Sort of necessary when a hazard of the job is smelling like fish.”

“I know exactly what you mean! The smell of crime scenes can be a bitch to get out.”

There was an awkward pause.

“So I’ll pick you up at eight?” Juliet offered.

April said that sounded fine, and they said their goodbyes. Juliet finished the drive home with her spirits lifted and Shawn pushed to the back of her mind. She had more important things to consider, like whether black leather boots could be successfully paired with tie-dyed skirts.

***

April looked great. It had been a while since someone had so happily climbed into Juliet’s car. “How are things at the aquarium?” She asked as she pulled out of the parking lot and into the Friday night traffic.

“Good, good. How are things at the station?”

“Can’t complain.”

Silence descended on the car. Juliet tried out a few conversation starters in her head as she turned on the radio. Enjoying the weather? No, that was stupid. It had been warm and sunny all week; of course she had enjoyed it. Did you hear about Brett Farve? That’s messed up, right? But what if April didn’t know about Farve? Could Juliet afford to go on a football monologue so early in their acquaintanceship?

April turned to look at her with shining eyes. “I heard about how Shawn helped the police catch the Yin Yang Killer. Is it true she was targeting him?”

“Yeah,” Juliet swallowed. “There are a lot of details I can’t discuss yet. I could tell you about the cafe laptop snatcher case, but the Yang case still has too many loose ends.”

“Understandable. Is Shawn okay?”

“Shaken, I think, but yes, he’s good. He even made it to a date a few hours after we arrested the suspect.”

April gave her a sympathetic look. “Not with you, I take it?”

Juliet shrugged. “He’s dating a friend from high school now.”

“Gus?”

Juliet shook her head.

“Wow, I was zero for two.” April paused. “I’m sorry it didn’t happen, Juliet. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“Yeah,” Juliet said with some forced cheerfulness. “Gus is a real catch.”

April laughed.

When they reached the club it looked dark and empty. Below the twisty neon letters of the club’s admittedly awesome name there hung a sign reading ‘Opening Soon!’

“Huh,” April said. “I could’ve sworn...”

Juliet glared at the sign. It wasn't the poor posterboard’s fault, but if April just wanted to go home and Juliet’s night out was ruined she had to blame something. Should she suggest a bar? What did young marine biologists do on Friday nights?

April was peering at the building with a curious expression. “It looks like there’s a second story window on the side,” she said. “Are you more of a climber or a booster?”

“I like coffee,” Juliet said quickly. “We could get some coffee. Do you like coffee?”

April smiled. “If it’s organically grown free-trade served with yuppie pretension and caramel syrup, then yes, I like coffee.”

Juliet steered April away from the club with a firm hand on her back. “You pick out the coffee house and I’ll drive.”

***

They chatted about the dearly departed Shabby on their way to the Tide Pool coffee house. There was perhaps a theme to April’s taste in names, Juliet mused as she meticulously parallel parked between a Prius and a Lexus Hybrid.

Her phone rang, and she automatically put on her ear bud. She was still technically driving. Then she looked at her phone. It was Shawn; he had changed his name in her contact list to TBird99. He must have known she’d remember him in uniform every time he called. She silenced the phone and slipped it into her purse.

“Was that work?” April asked as they got out of the car and entered the coffee shop. Juliet opened the door for April and the other woman gave her a teasing grin. “Are you being called to solve a dastardly crime?”

With purely cosmic timing, a shrill scream rang out. “My laptop!”

Juliet dashed towards the cry of distress. As she entered the back room she saw a figure with a laptop-sized shape in his or her arms bolt out of the back door, setting off the fire alarm. All around, the coffee shop patrons were looking up from their laptops and books as if awakening from a spell. Juliet ignored them and sprinted after the figure.

She focused on the sound of pounding footsteps as her eyes adjusted to the night. “Freeze!” She called as she followed the sound. “Police!”

The footsteps stopped. Juliet slowed down, listening hard. They were in a narrow alley that ran behind the shops. It was very dark where she was standing, but not too much further there was a street lamp where the alley met the street. The suspect would not be able to exit that way unnoticed.

Her eyes were adjusting. She couldn’t see anyone - just the uneven backs of buildings and a couple dumpsters. She called out again. “Come out slowly with your hands up!”

No one came out.

Her phone rang, She kept her eyes on the alley as she reached into her purse, and then spared a split second to look at the screen. If it was Lassiter, she could ask for assistance. If it was Shawn she could send a passive aggressive text message when this was over.

It was April. Realizing she still had her earpiece on, Juliet brought a hand to her ear and answered. April’s breathless voice flooded her ear. “You can’t see it where you’re standing, but there’s a sort of... nook behind that dumpster to your left. He’s standing there. Oh, and I called the cops, so you should have help soon. Please don’t do anything dangerous.”

Juliet resisted the temptation to look around for April. Instead she found the spot April had described and approached slowly. She had learned, after all, to simply put trust in certain things.

“Resisting arrest will make this much worse for you,” Juliet called out. “Put your hands up and step out from behind the dumpster!” Still, there was nothing. Juliet paused at a spot where she could see the edge of the nook. There was no way he could escape without confronting her. She could hear her own breathing, April’s breathing over the ear bud, and the suspect’s breathing. Then she heard sirens.

The suspect bolted towards her, throwing the laptop at her as he attempted to maneuver around her. The laptop was a fluorescent pink, easy to see even in the darkness. She caught the laptop and tripped the suspect as he ran by, instantly keeping him immobile with a foot on his upper back. At that moment, a couple of flashlights lit up the alleyway and a familiar voice demanded that everyone freeze.

Juliet looked into Buzz’s surprised face as the man on the ground moaned. “He’s all yours, McNab.” She said. “I didn’t bring my handcuffs.”

“That,” April said over the ear bud, “was so hot.”

It was just as well that it was too dark to see her blush. “Thanks.”

McNab gave her a loopy grin. “Not a problem.”

She carried the laptop back inside, where a barista had kept anyone from leaving before the police arrived. Most of the patrons were standing by the windows, trying to see the action.

“My laptop!” Came a cry of awed happiness. A man who must have been six foot four and three hundred pounds reached out for the computer in Juliet’s hands. “I can’t believe you saved her!” The patrons had turned to watch the happy reunion. There was a smattering of applause as Juliet returned the laptop to its grateful owner. April’s laugh was ringing in her ear.

“Where are you?” Juliet asked after finding a quiet corner.

“The roof.”

“And how did you get up there?”

“The stairs are in the office. Uh... the manager let me in?”

Juliet decided not to press the issue. Instead she found the stairs and joined April.

The roof was flat and plain with a wall about two feet high spanning the side facing the street. April was standing with one foot up on the wall, looking like a sailor standing on the prow of her ship. Juliet cleared her throat and stepped towards her. “Thanks for helping me. I don’t think I would have found him without you.”

“You know,” April said, “every time we meet, we mete out justice. That’s pretty awesome.”

“It’s only been twice.”

“I want to do this again. Get together, I mean. Stopping thieves is a bonus.”

Juliet grinned. “I want to do this again, too. I like you a lot, April.”

April took Juliet’s hand. “I have a confession to make. When I met Shawn, I was scouting for a boyfriend. And I thought he was a great catch. Now I think I had my eye on the wrong person.”

It was impossible for Juliet to miss April’s meaning. She took a shaky breath. “I have a confession, too. When you asked me if I was into Shawn, at first I thought you wanted to know if I was available. And it was really flattering, and even though I haven’t had a girlfriend since college, I thought I wouldn’t mind dating someone as fantastic as you.”

April tugged Juliet closer and kissed her. Juliet wrapped her arms languidly around April as their lips parted and came together in waves of unhurried kisses. The constant, changing sensation sent tingles through Juliet’s whole body. “Want to take this off the roof?” She asked.

“I don’t know, I like it up here. I can secretly protect the city from here.”

They kissed.

“Watch out, or I might uncover your secret identity as a super hero.” Juliet warned, and bumped noses as she leaned in again.

“You’re one to talk. You know who you reminded me of, with the blonde ponytail, black jacket and ass-kicking? Black Canary.”

“Oh god,” Juliet moaned as April nipped at her neck. “You read comics?”

“Sure do. Love Birds of Prey.”

“You reminded me of Oracle, the way you fed me intel from up here. Oh! Go lower, yes!”

They paused to catch their breath a few minutes later. “I’m going to need to go down to the station,” Juliet said casually, or at least as casually as one could after just receiving one’s first hickey in years. “But after...”

April adjusted a bra strap which had been pushed off her shoulder. “My bike is still at the aquarium, so I’ll have to go there anyway. And they haven’t given that office to anyone else yet. What I’m trying to say is, do you want to make out in the soft glow of the dolphin tank?”

A few hours later, with the only light filtering through the blue-green of water and April’s skin hot and sweaty against her, Juliet could only hope that this would last.

***

It did. And two weeks later they discovered that the Octopus’s Garden was in fact an oldies-themed club with a room for fans of bondage upstairs.

Dear Santa,

2009-11-07T06:16:17Z

Hi, mysterious Yuletide author! Chances are that I don't know you, so let me start off by saying this - Hi, I'm Garrideb, and I'm a fan of variety. I like reading a wide range of fanfic - I'm a fan of all sorts of genres, writing styles, POVs, characters, and tropes. So if you've already got something in mind, feel free to stop reading right now and start writing. I won't be disappointed if my specific prompts below aren't followed. Seriously, I won't.

But I know that leaving a big, wide-open 'anything goes' doesn't help authors who need bunnies, so I will endeavor to provide some optional bunnies below. I'll also give some fandom background in case you want to try a prompt for a fandom for which you are not familiar.

Petshop of Horrors
This is a manga series that I was smitten with in high school. Part horror, part fantasy, part cop drama, it features Count D, the mysterious owner of a Chinatown pet shop. He sells highly unusual, often magical pets to people, along with strict guidelines for the pet's care. If the guidelines are broken, Count D can't be held responsible for the what happens next. Some of the stories work as morality tales, with the pet owner dying due to his or her cruelty or carelessness.

Enter Detective Leon Orcott, who has noticed a lot of unusual deaths tied to the pet shop. In the course of investigating Count D, however, the two men forge a sort of... friendship... competition... relationship thing. It's slashy and fun to read.

I like all of the main cast of Petshop of Horrors, with the possible exception of D's father. And even then, I find him interesting, if not likable. Ideally, I'd like a story that features D, Leon, and/or Leon's brother and at least one pet. I like the pets. If a story features D and Leon on separate planes of existence, ideally there's a reunion in there somewhere.

I find a lot of the stories have room for expansion. Every story introduces new characters and pets, and sometimes I feel we don't get enough time with them. I'm a fan of 'episode' codas.

I'm a fan of stories that have an element of danger for either D or Leon.

Sherlock Holmes
Being one of the most recognizable fiction characters in the world, Holmes is probably at least a little familiar to you. Holmes is brilliant in many, many areas, blind in a few others, at turns cold and compassionate. He's both a lethargic drug-user and an animated crime-solver. Somewhere between the two extremes is the mood that causes him to play melancholy violin music at two in the morning. As far as I'm concerned, there's a good chance Holmes is bipolar.

And then there's Watson. Watson can be a cynical soldier or a bleeding heart. He is not the clown often featured in television adaptations, although obviously Holmes is going to outshine him on cases.

I'd like some action in the fic, although it by no means has to be a case-fic. I'm a fan of hurt/comfort, with either Holmes or Watson as the er, injured party, as it were.

If you're rusty on Sherlock Holmes, there is one story you could read and then write me a coda for - The Adventure of the Abbey Grange. It's found in The Return of Sherlock Holmes.

It ends with:Holmes decides that the killer had just motives, and instead of turning the killer over to the police, he holds an impromptu court in which he is the judge and Watson is the jury. They find the killer not guilty. Although the reader's sympathy is most likely with the killer, the scene still manages to chill me. I'd love to see some fall-out from it, be it emotional or legal.

The Visitor
This is a movie about Walter, a lonely college professor who discovers a young couple living in his New York apartment (he lives most of the year in Connecticut). The couple, Tarek and Zainab, believed they were renting it legally, and Walter lets them stay. A friendship based on drumming forms between Walter and Tarek.

It's not a very happy movie, although I guess the ending can be read many different ways. I found it to be angry-but-hopeful.

I'd like a fic featuring one or both of the two main female characters - Zainab and Mouna. It could be pre- or post-movie, or a missing scene. It could be from Walter's POV or Walterless. I'd just like to see these characters explored more fully!

Psmith
P. G. Wodehouse was a fantastic writer of humorous novels, and I'm a huge fan of Jeeves and Wooster. But my favorite Wodehouse novel (so far) is Mike and Psmith. I love both characters and the wacky hi-jinx they cause.

Of the four Psmith books I've read, the first two (Mike and Psmith and Psmith in the City) are my favorite. These books focus on the friendship between Mike and Psmith and the toils of being young men expected to succeed in school and the work force. We meet Mike just as his father puts him at a new boarding school mid-semester because his grades were poor at his last school. Mike is more interested in playing cricket than learning, and resents leaving his friends and cricket team behind. He's determined to hate his new school. But there he meets Psmith, also a new student, who is daring, unflappable, and is prone to going on very long monologues. They become fast friends.

The later two books (Psmith Journalist and Leave it to Psmith focus more solely on Psmith. They're also more over-the-top comedy and less grounded. I'm of the opinion that a character like Psmith needs a grounding force like Mike, and Psmith seems to share this opinion.

Therefore I'd like a fic that features both characters. It can be slashy or gen. I'd like one set during their school or college days, or one one during their stint at the bank. Something classic Psmith and Mike, like starting a club or conning bullies or having really ridiculous mostly-one-sided conversations in public places where they're sure to garner attention.

Can be as serious or silly as you like, as long as Psmith maintains his aloof persona throughout most of it.

I've Gotten A Taste For Fic Exchanges

2009-11-06T00:44:38Z

I think I'm going to sign up for Yuletide. I need to stick to fandoms that I know inside and out, though, because rereading, re-watching, and research is what will kill me. I need to be able to start my prompt right away. That's what I learned from my last (and first) fic exchange.

I also need to make a fanfic sticky post, because apparently I've abandoned my tiny personal archive, and this LJ's fic is no longer all on the first page of posts. Also, I got a review on a House halloween story I had posted to house_wilson several years ago and had then forgotten.

Life at the clinic is going okay. Pushing the clock back an hour means that now it's light out when I catch the bus for work, but it's dark by the time I get home around 5:30.

I read the first volume of Birds of Prey, which is to say, not Birds of Prey Vol. 1 (which is in fact vol. 3 or 4, depending) but Black Canary/Oracle: Birds of Prey. This is the list I'm using, because Wikipedia doesn't list the ISBN, which I need to find anything on my library's search engine. Seriously, they have 'Birds of Prey: Series' as a tag, but only one of the trades is tagged with it. Anyway, it was a fast, enjoyable read.

Life going okay.

Halloween!

2009-10-29T21:03:52Z

This post is all about the awesome parts of this past week, which were many. First, on Friday, I went to two movies at the Union with a friend. We saw Fear(s) of the Dark - a collection of 5 short animated French horror films - and Dead Snow - a Norwegian zombie flick. Neither movie was that great, but I had a lot of fun.

Then on Saturday I had my Halloween party! I was very happy with how it went. More people showed up than I expected, and it's been a couple years since I hosted a large party, so I felt a bit out of practice. But it turns out I'd bought a perfect amount of food; nothing ran out but I didn't have many left-overs. The theme was 'magic', and I'd checked out several magic-related movies from the library, but the one my guests decided on - Ladyhawke - was damaged and stopped playing about half an hour in. No matter, although I do want to track down a working copy and see how it ends.

We went on a nightime walk and frolicked in the park for a while. We also played with my awesome laser lamp.

Here's a pirate, a jellyfish, a wizard and a mermaid.

Me in the laser lamplight.

A friend dressed as Spock.

Keep scrolling down - this picture will be shortly explained.

There you go. That friend's costume was some kind of tree... spirit... thing.

Here's a better close-up.

Then, Sunday! I went to a Jonathan Coulton concert. It was my fourth - I go every time he comes to Madison, and it's always a blast! If you don't know who Jonathan Coulton is, you should look him up. Most people recognize him as 'that guy who wrote the song at the end of Portal'. His hits include Code Monkey, Re: Your Brains, and Skullcrusher Mountain. Basically, he writes geeky, funny and bizarre songs. They were selling USB drives at the concert that contained all of his music, so I bought one.

Here, I feel like sharing:
Mandelbrot Set - A song about the mathematician and his equation.
The Future Soon - The future is soon, and hopefully it will include giant space labs and bionic eyes.
Ikea - As you can guess, a love song to Ikea. It seemed especially appropriate to link this song after the 'Avengers in Ikea' fic I got for heroines_fest.

My friend Anna gave me this shirt, which I wore to the concert. I think I've seen this angle described as 'the myspace angle', and I can see why it's popular.

And then yesterday I went to my neighborhood's annual Halloween bonfire. I took tons of pictures, but I'll just post my favorite because this post is getting crazy long. Here you go:

Heroines!

2009-10-16T01:23:32Z

All the stories written for heroines_fest were posted today, and I am so, so excited.

Really, I knew that whatever story I'd get for my prompts would be awesome, and I wasn't wrong. But the fic I got was even better than I could have hoped for. The prompt that was used was 'Robots are attacking IKEA', and the author, likeadeuce wrote it from Jessica Jone's POV with biting humor and heartfelt characterizations. Funny, funny stuff. Here, have a taste:

"Am I the only one who saw 'Fight Club'?" I asked. "Remember how IKEA drove Edward Norton crazy?"

"What's 'Fight Club'"? Bobbi asked.

"Misogynistic proto-fascist crap," Carol said.

"Going to the top of the Netflix queue," I said.

"We're fugitives," Carol hissed in my ear, leaning down close. "We're fugitives and you have a Netflix queue?"

So, yeah. Read Solutions for Better Living.

And while you're at heroines_fest, take a look around. There are 28 stories featuring comic book women there, just waiting to be read. If you're in the mood for Ms. Marvel/Scarlet Witch or Storm and Thor's battle from Ultimate War, you could even read mine. ;-)

Two Movies

2009-10-04T21:53:16Z

Went without a social life last week and watched two movies and a whole lot of Babylon 5 instead. The first movie I watched was Round Trip, which was about an Israeli bus driver who leaves her husband and moves to Tel Aviv with her two children. Unable to work and raise her children, she offers a room in her apartment for someone willing to be a nanny. The woman who takes up the offer is an undocumented immigrant from Ghana with her own young son back home. The two women slowly become friends and then lovers.

The movie incorporated a lot of elements, such as racism, homophobia, poverty and post-partum depression into its storyline, but it treated them more as facts of life rather than obstacles for our characters to overcome. If you're looking for a love story, Round Trip is not the movie for you. It's more of a character study that uses a romantic relationship for character growth, although it's debatable how much has changed at the end of the movie.

The second movie I watched as part of my ongoing quest to see everything in which Cillian Murphy appears. It was called Watching the Detectives, and was a fun, fluffy eye-candy kind of flick. Well, it stars Cillian Murphy and Lucy Liu, of course it's going to have visual appeal. It's about a film noir buff who meets a woman who prefers to create her own adventures rather than watch them on television. She creates film noir themed scenes for him without warning him that they're games, which sometimes backfires horribly and sometimes goes very right.

Not for people who loath self-consciously quirky movies, as this is definitely one of those. For people who want to see wet, naked Cillian Murphy and half-dressed Lucy Liu. I tried to find a youtube clip of a favorite scene to show you, but all I found were ten minute chunks of the movie. So, um, here's one of those chunks. One of my favorite scenes - in which Lucy Liu's character proves she's got everything television has and more - is from 4:50 to 6:20.

Action Figure Crack

2009-09-13T03:04:23Z

Partly inspired by crimsonquills's Tiny Army, partly inspired by my childhood pastime of creating elaborate scenes with my toys, but mostly inspired by my stressful new job, I bought a few Marvel Super Hero Squad action figures. Today I took pictures. I swear this is therapeutic.

Spider-Woman dives into the icy Pacific ocean to save an injured Ms. Marvel.

In general I'm annoyed by the execution of Secret Invasion, but I love the cover on this issue. Skrull queen kissing Tony and praising him for being her perfect soldier just to fuck with his mind? Cruelly delicious reading.

What? No, don't fight! You're going to screw over the whole universe!

As painful as CW was, I did love the flashbacks through Cap and Iron Man's long friendship.

As cheesy as it can be, I'm a sucker for classic Avengers.

Has Garrideb used her innocent action figures to act out a non-canon scene?!

Nope, it's just the mouth-to-mouth scene from Avengers: Red Zone!

Superheroes: Fashion and Fantasy

2009-08-10T19:37:03Z

So I checked out a book called Superheroes: Fashion and Fantasy, which featured fashion inspired by comic book heroes. Each chapter featured a different type of hero. The chapters were:
The Graphic Body - Superman and Spiderman
The Patriotic Body - Wonder Woman and Captain America
The Virile Body - Hulk, She-Hulk, and The Thing
The Paradoxical Body - Catwoman
The Armored Body - Batman and Iron Man
The Aerodynamic Body - The Flash
The Mutant Body - The X-Men
The Post Modern Body - The Punisher and Ghost Rider.

I mostly checked it out for the Captain America and Iron Man fashion, but to be honest my favorite costumes were the ones in The Mutant Body and The Post Modern Body:

Anyway, I'm not really into fashion, but I love things that look like they could be awesome Halloween costumes.

White Tiger

2009-08-06T05:07:03Z

I've slowed down a bit on my comic book consumption, but I did finish White Tiger: A Hero's Compulsion recently, and I'm happy to say that it did a lot of things right. I'm sure a lot of this is due to its author, Tamora Pierce.

The hero is Angela del Toro. Her uncle had a pendant that granted him strength and speed, and he became the White Tiger, which led to his death. The pendant is passed onto Angela, but although she's attracted to the ability to mete out justice on the streets, she's not in a hurry to don a costume. After all, the SHRA is in the works, and being a super hero is what killed her uncle.

1. I love Angela's origin story, because it's understated and feels very believable. It also tells the reader a lot about the character, which lends her more depth in a few issues than most female super heroes get in several TPBs. She's not necessarily the most interesting hero to read about, and she lacks any quirks, but she does feel believable.

2. The story is not 'flirty' or 'glamourous'. There are no romantic subplots. She doesn't have a pack of female friends who offer her advice. Mind, I'm not against romance or friend-cabals, but I'd much rather not see them than see the flat this-is-what-women-want style stereotypes. Angela does get advice from the Black Widow, which is excellent. Their interaction passes the Bechdel Test and feels right for the characters:

3. Angela's costume is sexy and looks reasonable for a crime-fighter. Throughout the book, her stances look natural, rather than the playboy pinup poses that female heroes often get stuck with. Even in the cover art, where I'd most likely expect (and accept) sexy poses, Angela is drawn so that her face is a focal point rather than her cleavage or ass. This art is still very hot, but it's the kind of hot I like best.

Now, I'm not saying the story or the characters are perfect. There are parts that I didn't care for, including a scene where someone commits suicide to preserve honor that felt really off to me. Deadpool has a cameo that manages not to be funny, sadly enough. But overall, White Tiger is very good. Check it out.

Random Obsession w/ MAS*H Continues

2009-07-31T00:48:27Z

I finished reading MASH: A Novel About Three Army Doctors, and enjoyed it a lot. It's blasphemous and raunchy - much raunchier than what I've seen of the TV show so far - and also funny and satisfying. Richard Hooker has a very simple writing style that is easy to read and never draws focus away from the various shenanigans of Hawkeye, Duke and Trapper.

Even though the shenanigans are the heart of the book, I found my favorite parts were the descriptions of the 'meatball surgery', as Hawkeye calls it, and the descriptions of general life at the MASH unit. Some of the improvisations the characters are forced to make are hilarious and rather disturbing at the same time, such as in the case of Captain John "Ugly" Black, the anesthesiologist:

When leisure came his way, Ugly's first duty was to repair his intratracheal tubes. These are tubes placed in a patient's windpipe through the mouth and attached to a machine, controlled by the anesthesiologist, which delivers oxygen and anesthetic agents in the concentrations desired. Inside the windpipe the tubes are held in place by small balloons which are inflated after their introduction.

The balloons on Ugly's intratracheal tubes, like all balloons, kept blowing out. The supply of new tubes was limited or nonexistent, for reasons never quite clear, so it was up to Captain Black to keep them in constant repair. There was only one source of new balloons.

Every week or ten days the PX received a shipment of the various things PX's receive shipments of. This always caused a line to form, and the line always included most of the nurses. At the head of the line, however, would be Ugly John Black. As the PX opened for business, Ugly John would step up and announce in a loud, clear, purposeful voice: "I'll take sixty rubber contraceptive devices. I hope to hell they're better than the last batch. They all leaked." Then he'd turn around and look austerely at the interested throng, few of who knew what he did with sixty such items a week.

The next book on my non-graphic novel reading list is Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro. But will I finish it in time for the book club meeting? Eh, stranger things have happened.

Three Recs

2009-07-18T20:20:46Z

Things I've enjoyed this week and am therefore reccing:

The Soloist - I finally got around to seeing this on Tuesday. Normally I like to read several reviews before seeing a movie at the theater, but I'd only read one review for The Soloist, and that was only because NAMI had a review in their monthly newsletter. NAMI liked it - they said it had a realistic portrayal of mental illness. They even dedicated part of their website to it.

Even so, I had only middling expectations. Sure, it might have realistic portrayals of mental illness, but I figured it had a high chance of being cheesy, mushy, or preachy. To my delight, it really wasn't. Sure, there were a couple scenes that were too blunt to be effective, in my opinion - the bit where Jaime Foxx's character is saying the Lord's Prayer while the camera scans over crowds of homeless people, for example - but over all the movie felt grounded and unpretentious. And Jamie Foxx and Robert Downey Jr. gave excellent performances.

Most of all, I appreciated the movie's handling of moral issues of forcing someone to get psychiatric help.

The Rabbi's Cat - I checked this graphic novel out from the library almost two months ago, and finally read it in one night. Well, better late than never, right? The story is about a cat who lives with a rabbi and his daughter. One night the cat eats a parrot and gains the ability to speak, which causes tension in the household as the cat takes delight in challenging everyones' beliefs.

The art is fantastic, and all the characters (including the cat) feel very human. If you like reading theological and moral debates in storybook format, this is for you.

M*A*S*H - Any comedy with Suicide is Painless as the theme song has to be good. I've only seen the movie so far, but I plan on reading the book and starting the television series soon. A friend who owns the box set says that the DVDs have the option to turn off the laugh track. This seems like a genius feature to me. Also, I think I've fallen in love with Hawkeye. He's a snarky, irreverent doctor before snarky, irreverent doctors were cool. Eat that, House.

Five Words Meme

2009-07-06T20:51:30Z

From muccamukk's LJ: Write a comment with "Five Words" in it, and I'll list five things I associate with you. You must then go on about them at length in your own journal.

Sherlock Holmes
There was a point in my life when I'd read so much Sherlock Holmes that everything I wrote felt like it was in Watson's voice. Comparisons to Sherlock Holmes were what got me interested in the show House M.D. My username is a Holmes reference that works like a secret handshake for finding other Holmes fans. Right or wrong, I feel that Holmes fanfiction should be held to a higher standard than most other fanfic, because one can easily find books full of published Holmes 'fanfic' by well known authors. I regret not buying a second edition Sherlock Holmes book I found at a used book store.

Beka Valentine
Okay, I might be misremembering, but I think the first Andromeda episode I saw was The Pearls That Were His Eyes. Here's this beautiful - but not glamourous or unrealistically dressed - tough looking blonde woman. And she receives a distress call from her uncle, a man who doesn't know she's now part of the crew of a powerful warship. So not only is there a woman on a sci-fi show who looks like she belongs on a space ship and not a catwalk, but the show is focusing on a non-romantic relationship of hers.

It gets better!

Who goes along with her when she decides to answer the distress call? Not the buff Captain, Dylan, or the buff mercenary, Tyr, both of whom have sexual tension with her. No, it's the purple alien girl named Trance. As they search for Beka's uncle, they talk about family and planet life versus spaceship life, neatly passing the Bechdel Test.

No, I didn't even know what the Bechdel Test was back then, but I knew I appreciated seeing two women being friends in a sci-fi show. It's something that's common enough with men, but depressingly rare with women. How many male friendships can you name in sci-fi? Tons, right? Now how many female friendships? Come to think of it, most sci-fi I watch has one or two female characters for every five or six male characters. Andromeda had three female characters and four male.

I can let it pass in shows like Stargate SG-1, because yeah, women are the minority in today's military. But in shows set in the future? I'd like to think that society has progressed by the time a few hundred years have passed.

Beka was my favorite of the women. Beka flirted and had flings, but her priority was always her crew, and she protected them fiercely and with deadly force. She also had weaknesses and flaws that made her interesting. Rommie was awesome as the embodiment of a warship, but sometimes her mooning after her Captain got tiresome. Trance was fantastic as a mysterious alien, but I must admit I was sad when she 'switched places' with her future self. She was more intriguing as an innocent girl with very well hidden dark side. I did like her future self's red dreadlocks, though.

Speaking of sci-fi hairstyles, I think I know the exact scene that sold me on Andromeda. Trance finds out that Beka has nanites in her hair that allow her to instantaneously change her hair color. Excited, Trance says, "Do purple! Do purple!" Beka grins at Trance and shakes her hair, causing it to turn the color of Trance's skin. "That's nothing," she says. "You should see me do plaid."

Modding
I'm really excited to be a mod at cap_ironman. I felt my best qualifications were my fairness and objectivity. I'm not part of a fannish clique, and even though I have favorite authors, I don't play favorites. I felt that the previous mods were the same way, and I wanted the comm to continue in its tradition of equality among members. That is, that fic and art and meta were judged on its own merits and not on the popularity of the author or artist.

At this point, of the three mods, I feel I've maybe fallen into the 'cheerleader' role. They're handling heavy stuff, I'm making fun posts and representing the pairing in general comms. I'm really hoping that we don't get any of those damn hate memes while I'm mod. Those things piss me off like little else - they're tools for cowards to get justification for their hurtful, hateful opinions. I always hoped that those responsible would step forward so that they could get the tar and feathering they deserved.

I have a bad habit of fandom-jumping, and I'm hoping that being a mod for this comm will help keep me interested and involved in the Marvel fandom.

Blair Sandburg
I always appreciate a character who uses his mind and a talent for improv instead of his muscles to solve a problem. Okay, sometimes watching a fight scene is uber satisfying, but can it compete with watching a hippie grad student convince the bad guys that fucking with him is a bad idea because yeah, he flew helicopters in Desert Storm?

No, no it can't.

English History
Er... it's interesting but intimidating? I checked out a book a few months back called Dr. Johnson's London: Coffee-Houses and Climbing Boys, Medicine, Toothpaste and Gin, Poverty and Press-Gangs, Freakshows and Female Education, but I didn't get far. The chapters I did read on road and bridge maintenance and water distribution in the mid 1700's was interesting, or at least as interesting as those subjects could be, but I got distracted by other things.

I do love history, but I prefer either much earlier history, or turn of the twentieth century stuff. I have a friend in the SCA, though, and his 'persona' is from the 1700's, and I thought it would be cool to know more about that period. Also, I try to buy him period gifts for his birthday and Christmas, and knowing anything about that era would make that easier.

Bee Pictures

2009-06-25T02:11:10Z

Don't ask me why, but taking pictures of bees makes me insanely happy. My cats and living in Madison make me happy too, so there's a pic of Toby and the Madison capitol under the cut along with the bee pics.

In an unrelated note, why is the east side Half Priced Books so much better than the west side one? The west side location never has P.G. Wodehouse books or Beatles albums, whereas the east side location had a huge selection of both. As far as I can tell, the west side location is only superior in its comic book selection.

BRB, melting...

2009-06-19T22:36:28Z

Okay, I think this is my new favorite fanvid ever. It's just so sweet and heartwarming and making me grin like crazy.

Oh, and something I love about Starsky and Hutch fanfic? Sometimes I can finish reading a story and still have no clue if it was gen or slash. I found one author who listed her fic as 'Committed Relationship', and it wasn't until later when I saw them listed on another archive that I realized they were gen. And this makes total sense in Starsky and Hutch fandom.

Goodness, look at their smiles. I'm going to be watching this all day.

League Of Literature And Libations

2009-06-11T04:53:14Z

Pro tip: Book club meetings are more interesting when you've actually read the book. But hey, I had fun anyway. I dragged my little sister and my friend Sam to the Onion's June book club meeting for a couple reasons. One, my little sister loves Catch 22, which was the book this month, and two, the Onion's book club meets at Brocach Irish Pub and my sister recently turned 21.

I figured I could finish the book before the meeting, but of course I barely even started it. All the same, it was worth it to show Brocach to my sister. It's a beautiful pub with lots of secluded nooks and a dark, warm atmosphere. It's also expensive, unfortunately. I had a great drink but I'm still wincing at the price.

I still might read Catch 22. I've got a reading list a mile long, so what's one more?

You got feminism in my sci-fi!

2009-05-27T05:28:11Z

WisCon was worth the forty bucks. I was worried that it wouldn't be, but it totally was. There was a lot of programming, so there was always something to do, whether you were in the mood for academic nerdy sci-fi talk, discussions about social injustice, or fandom squee.

I also ran into three friends I hadn't seen since last August, so that was wonderful. One of them, Jenny, is the most well-read person I know. I get the feeling she could kill me with her brain. Her boyfriend, Mark, is also really smart, and although I love them both, I always feel a bit stupid around them. I also feel a bit perverted around them, because I think I have a crush on them both.

Anyway, the highlights were: getting a free tarot reading; the newbie dinner, where a bunch of us got to know each other over Indian food (mmm, mushroom masala); the cultural appropriation workshop, where I learned a damned lot; the haiku earring party, where I got a free pair of earrings for writing a haiku based on the title 'The Goth Dryad'; the LJ party, where we all got stickers of our favorite LJ icons to wear on our name tags; the slash fanfic panel, where everyone was drinking beer and laughing; the paper a woman presented about black heroines in zombie stories; the auction, where I bought a book signed by Ursula K. LeGuin and watched a hand-knit dalek being auctioned off; and much, much more.

Now my thoughts are occupied by a horror fanfic plot bunny I have. I haven't written horror in a long, long time, and I'm finding it really hard to get the mood right.

There's No Police Like Holmes

2009-05-19T04:07:22Z

The trailer for the new Sherlock Holmes film came out. And I must say, despite my trepidations, it looks good. I just hope the movie doesn't make Holmes a skirt-chaser. I mean, he gets handcuffed naked to a bed, but that could be the result of just about anything. I read somewhere that Holmes does have a love interest in it, which, fine, I get it. Hollywood heroes are never asexual. And god forbid anyone assumes that Holmes and Watson are more than friends. Plus, without a love interest, what role would a female character play? Okay, I'm a bit bitter about Hollywood's obligatory love interests, but I'm not 100% against Holmes falling in love. It could be well done.

Anyway, if it sucks I'll be zen about it. *Snuggles Sherlock Holmes books*

Pace Yourself

2009-05-14T08:00:38Z

One thing that bothers me a lot in Marvel comics is the pacing. It tends to vary from slightly too fast to blindingly WTF fast, with very strange lulls thrown in. Part of this is the format - storytelling in monthly chunks for the duration of half a year or more must make consistency difficult, especially when writers are trading off work. Part also seems to stem from the standard of putting a fight scene in every issue. This sometimes forces flashbacks or subplots where flashbacks and subplots do not belong.

Sometimes I wonder how much the art influences the pacing decisions. One has to be a very good artist to make a conversation as visually interesting as a fist fight. Of course they are out there - Alias had some great pages which depicted Jessica interviewing clients. The same image of Jessica listening intently would be repeated maybe eight or nine times, interspersed with images of the client telling his or her story. I found myself glancing at each textless panel of Jessica, looking for any change in the picture before moving on to the next part of the client's story.

Anyway, what I wanted to say was that I read Prelude To House Of M and finished half of House Of M today. So far, despite the mangling of the character of the Scarlet Witch, I've really enjoyed it. And I think that's mostly because it has good pacing. The plot reveals have been spaced well, and even though I would have liked longer glimpses into the lives of the characters in this alternate world, what I got was enough.

The art kind of sucks, though. All the mens' faces are shaped exactly the same. They all have the same square chin and heavy brows. I have a hard time telling apart male characters if they aren't sporting facial hair or costumes. In one panel I couldn't tell apart Dr. Strange and Tony Stark, because both were wearing suits and their heads were angled to hide the shocks of gray hair that would have identified Strange.

Oh, but the Prelude was the slashiest thing ever. If you think the X-Men movies have strong vibes between Magneto and Xavier, well... the movies have nothing on the comics. In the Prelude they snipe at each other, worry about each other, and live together.

Methodical Update

2009-05-09T21:45:32Z

I'm excited for two reasons. One, I only have one day of my internship left and one last class before I graduate. Then I can start my hunt for a good Medical Assistant job. My internship went really well, and the supervisor there said she'd be happy to write a letter of reference. I'm actually going to miss what was basically an unpaid 40 hour a week job. If a job opens up at the Wingra clinic, I'd probably take it.

And two, I bought a pass for Wis Con - the world's largest feminist sci-fi convention - about a month ago and then forgot about it. I got a pamphlet in the mail about it a few days ago, and now I'm psyched. Sadly, I didn't tell any of my friends about it, and passes are no longer being sold, so I'll be going alone. Ah well, I'm getting better at not hiding quietly in corners, so maybe I'll actually meet people.

Oh, and I'm still on my comics binge. Last Saturday was Free Comic Day, which I dutifully attended at my local comic book shop. I picked up five free comic books (only two of which I had any interest in) and bought one non-free one (It had the Scarlet Witch on the cover).

I really need to start drawing again. Being in a comic book fandom has made me want to turn some of my plot bunnies into fancomics rather than fanfic. Someday I'll actually organize my days so I set some time aside for things I want to learn, like how to draw well and how to speak Spanish. Otherwise I'll be thinking these same thoughts ten years from now.

Fic - Birds Do It, Bees Do It

2009-03-25T17:03:26Z

Title:Birds Do It, Bees Do It
Fandom: Avengers (Marvel 616 Universe)
Word Count: ~6600
Summary: Three times three pairs from the Avengers danced. Pairings are Hank/Jan set during classic Avengers, Carol/Wanda set during Red Zone, and Steve/Tony during the early days of the New Avengers.
Notes: Thank you so much to my beta, seanchai.

The radio was playing in Hank’s lab when Jan arrived - something classical with flutes and cellos, soft and slow. It was at odds with Hank’s hurried movements. As Jan watched he went from table to table, checking on an ant farm, a bubbling flask atop a Bunsen burner, and a large computer. Every now and then he’d pause long enough to jot something down in a stained notebook, but he’d make up for his temporary stillness with a stream of muttered words.

Jan smiled as she entered the lab. The manic Flight of the Bumblebees would be better suited than this gentle music, but Jan wasn’t complaining. She turned the volume up as she passed the old radio.

Hank’s shoulders stiffened and then relaxed. He didn’t look up from his work. “Jan,” he said evenly, “can I help you?”

Not the warmest reception, but she could work with it. “Just a small favor,” she replied. Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought Hank’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly. “I’ve made a new costume, and I need some help putting it through its paces.”

Hank knelt down to peer at the ant farm. “Why are you asking me? Cap has set up an obstacle course in the gym, and Iron Man has that battle simulation with the lasers.” He sighed. “They’ll be better help than I can be.”

“It’s not a Wasp costume, Blue-Eyes. It’s a dress for a theater production. I need to make sure the darling diva it’s for will be able to dance in it.”

“Dance?” Hank finally turned to look at her. His eyes widened as he took in her elegant sleeveless gown. Jan smiled, enjoying his reaction. From all of the time she had spent by the mirror, she knew exactly how the pale green fabric set off the glow of her skin.

She winked and curtseyed, showing off the gathered skirt. “The lead actress is a dear friend of mine, so I made this as a special favor. We could wear each other’s clothes in grade school and we still can now, can you imagine?”

Hank found his voice as he looked away. “It’s very nice. I’m sure your friend will be able to dance just fine in it.”

“Oh, but I have to test it out just in case! It would be terrible if Julie happened to trip during opening night. She might never speak to me again.”

Glancing back at his computer, Hank hesitated. “I’m really busy, and I’m not much of a dancer.”

“It’ll only be a minute,” Jan promised, extending a white-gloved hand, “and nothing fancy. Just a slow dance.” Hank took her hand and Jan stepped closer, placing her other hand on his shoulder.

“Captain America can do the jitterbug and swing. He’d be a better choice,” Hank continued as he guided her into a slow, swaying step, as if he hadn’t already given in. Jan just smiled.

He was obviously nervous. He was holding himself stiffly, and his hands were warm and moist. She bit her lip in thought as they stepped in time to the orchestral music. Finally she said conversationally, “Bees dance to communicate, don’t they?”

He gave her a startled look. “Yes, they do.”

“I know I read an article all about it.” She hummed in thought. “It was a while back, though. Refresh my memory.”

Hank didn’t need to be told twice. “Honey bees dance to describe the direction and distance of pollen or nectar they’ve found to other bees. It’s really quite remarkable.” He relaxed as he talked, absently pulling Jan closer. “It’s called a waggle dance. The direction the bee moves on the honeycomb indicates the food source’s angle to the sun, while the length of the dance indicates the distance.”

“I like it,” Jan said as Hank took a breath. “Life would be a bit more beautiful if we danced to recommend a good restaurant instead of just blabbing on.” She grinned up at him. “What does this mean in honeybee?” She let go of his shoulder and stepped back until their clasped hands were at arm’s length between them. Then she stepped forward, raising their hands and spinning under the archway of their arms. She ended against his chest, her skirt still twirling about her legs.

Hank’s hand found its way back to her waist. “You want me to make reservations at Oscar’s. I hope you’re free on Friday night, because that’s when I booked them.”

Jan stared. “What? How did you know?”

“I uh, I heard you talking about Oscar’s with Mr. Stark. You said you couldn’t wait to eat there again.” He suddenly looked unsure. “I hope you don’t mind.”

She slapped his shoulder lightly. “Of course I don’t mind!” It wasn’t often that Hank could surprise her. Many days she felt like she knew him better than he did, and could anticipate his every move. That wasn’t a bad thing, really - in her experience, surprises were rarely welcome in relation to men. Hank had never been her usual kind of guy, though.

“Good. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

The cello and flute piece had long since ended, replaced by mellow piano music. They continued to sway together. Jan closed her eyes and tried to imagine dancing with Hank in a black tuxedo, in some formal ballroom. Nearby the computer beeped and Jan opened her eyes. There was no point in pretending to be somewhere else. The flask was bubbling softly and insects were rustling in their cages, and Jan found none of it bothered her in the least. None of it changed the way she felt about the man in her arms.

The wall Scarlet Witch had created was breathtaking. Water rose from the ground in a forty foot wave, swelling and churning in place like a wild horse reigned back from a charge. This close, Carol ought to have felt the spray, but a wind running towards and up the wave kept the water contained and Carol dry.

Her hair caught in the wind as she flew along the wall. Above the wave, the winds came together to form a further barrier. Clods of loose earth, leaves, and branches were flung about in the winds like flecks of dust.

Carol flew higher until she could see past the wall. The cloud inside seemed to be repelled before it even reached the wave, and as far as Carol could see the red zone was contained.

She turned around and headed back to the backyard where Wanda stood. Part of her wanted to do a complete perimeter check of the wall, but she didn’t want to leave Wanda alone for more than a few minutes at a time. Wanda had said she would hold the wall as long as it took, but Carol could only guess at the effort it took to hold a spell so powerful. It seemed to her that Wanda could falter and lose control at any moment. If that happened, Carol needed to be ready to swoop in and get Wanda to a safe distance from the red zone.

Helicopters couldn’t get near the wall without great risk, but Carol had instructed the choppers to land as close as was safe at intervals around the zone. She had eyes and ears along most of the wall, even if they weren’t her own. The soldiers were ready to act if the perimeter was broken by refocusing the evacuation effort based on the location of the breach. This left Wanda as Carol’s main responsibility. It was a good call; Wanda was safest in her hands.

It also meant that no one else would be seeing Wanda naked. Not that it was a big deal; a catastrophic plague put a little thing like modesty in prospective. All the same Wanda would probably prefer a team mate see her like this than a stranger.

About an hour after Wanda had cast the spell, Carol had flown to the nearest checkpoint to pick up some clothes for Wanda. It was the longest she had let her out of her sight, and her heart had been beating fast by the time she had returned with a backpack containing a set of clothes.

Carol flew along the curve of the wall, so strange in the middle of a middle class neighborhood, and once again Wanda came into view. She was as still as a statue, her arms out flung, a faint glow surrounding her hands. Her face was tipped up so that her eyes stared blankly at the crests of the frothing waves. Carol landed a short distance behind her, prepared to wait in silence.

The eastern sky was turning light when Carol’s radio crackled to life. The relief at hearing Captain America’s message was profound; Tony’s scientists and the Wakanda scientists had, working together, discovered a way to neutralize the red zone. The news that both Cap and Tony had been exposed and were in the hospital put a damper on her relief, but Cap had been reassuring. Carol focused on the job at hand.

She circled around to approach Wanda from the front, afraid of startling her in the midst of the spell. “Wanda?” She asked softly.

“Yes,” Wanda replied. “I heard the radio.”

Carol nodded, although she wasn’t sure if Wanda could see with her eyes glowing like they were. “The helicopters with the neutralizing agent will be here in half an hour. It’s safe to release the wall.”

Wanda closed her eyes. The winds that had been pushing against the wave suddenly changed, spraying the women with a fine mist. The wave curled in on itself, flowing down and outward with each passing second. It shrank so quickly that it was only a few feet high as it neared them, but it was moving fast. Carol turned to face Wanda and picked her up with one arm around her thighs and the other around her back. They were in the air mere moments before the wave rolled through the yard.

Wanda wrapped her arms around Carol’s neck and turned her head to the side so that her hair wasn’t in Carol’s face. Carol flew higher. She could hear the helicopters in the distance and adjusted her path to give them a wider breadth. The further they flew from the red zone, the better she felt. Chances were that Wanda wasn’t immune to the pathogen.

It was bad enough that Wanda had walked through the red zone for hours while suited up. After Carol had found her and she’d been patched up, Wanda had come right back to the edge of the red zone without a hazmat suit. And what kind of spell burned away clothing, anyway? Carol had nothing against nudity in general, but when there was a flesh eating pathogen spreading through the air... the last thing she wanted to see was Wanda’s skin consumed by disease.

Wanda’s voice cut into her morbid thoughts. “You can put me down, Carol.”

Right. Carol looked down and saw that they had passed the homes and streets of the town. Now they were over lightly wooded land. It was certainly a safe enough distance from the red zone for a quick stop. Wanda deserved a few minutes to dress and catch her breath before they flew to the hospital. Carol wanted to see if Cap and Tony were all right, and she wanted Wanda checked over, too, but it could wait until Wanda was clothed.

She landed near a small stream. The ground was littered with damp leaves and sticks, and the tree tops were filled with broken and dangling branches. Carol wondered if a storm had passed through recently, or if the spell had caused the damage. She set Wanda down carefully, keeping a hand between her shoulder blades until she had gotten her footing.

Carol took a step back and handed Wanda the backpack. She stared at it a moment before unzipping it, the sound loud in the quiet clearing.

“There’s a shirt, pants, and underwear,” Carol told her. “No bra though, sorry. I’m not sure what your size is, and I didn’t have much time for shopping around.”

Wanda shrugged as she slipped on the white panties. “That’s fine. I’ve generally found that no bra is better than an ill-fitting bra, unless there’s running involved. We don’t have any running planned, do we?”

“No. There’s more flying planned, and some walking and a lot of talking. There might even be coffee drinking, but hopefully no running.”

Wanda smiled. “Then I’m sure my breasts will survive.”

“Good.” Carol watched as Wanda pulled on the dark gray-green pants. Perhaps she shouldn’t be staring, but it seemed pointless to avert her eyes now. And quite frankly, Wanda was stunning. The pants rested low on her hips, showing off the long lines of her abdomen and the slight slope of her belly.

The moisture in the air had caused her wavy hair to curl into messy ringlets. They framed her face and fell over her bare shoulders. The contrast between dark hair and pale skin kept catching Carol’s eyes.

Finally Wanda put on the shirt. As she pulled it over her head she arched her back slightly, and the shadows of her ribs were momentarily visible beneath her breasts.

Carol felt warm despite the cool weather. “We should get moving,” she said.

Wanda regarded her calmly. “Not yet.”

Carol fought down a sense of irritation. It was nothing to be bothered about. Wanda wasn’t under her command; she wasn’t being disobeyed or disrespected. “Why not?” She asked. Then, with a growing apprehension, “Are you sick?”

“No!” Wanda looked startled, then smiled reassuringly. “No, I’m fine. It’s just that this spell was much larger than I’m accustomed to. I can feel residual magic around me still.”

“Is that the charge in the air?” Carol took a step closer, wondering if the feeling would grow stronger. If it did, it was too small a change to notice.

“I’m not sure if you can feel it. There’s very little chance of it causing harm, but I’d prefer to wait until it dissipates before going somewhere crowded.”

Carol nodded. “How long?”

“Just a few minutes.”

“Do you need to sit down?” Carol asked, remembering how Wanda had stood statue-still for hours. “You must be tired.”

“Actually, I feel... good.” She gave Carol another smile, looking playful. “Almost like the time Hawkeye gave us those drinks, the Red... uh..”

“Red Bulls.”

“Yes, to help us stay awake. I feel like I’ve had three.”

“That probably means you’ll crash fast and hard.”

“Good thing you’re here, then.”

And those butterflies in her stomach meant it was time to steer the conversation away from topics that had Wanda gazing at her with affection. “You saved a lot of lives today. I had no idea your powers could work on such a scale.”

“To be honest, for powerful spells I put all my might behind it and hope it works. It’s the delicate, precise hexes that are hard. They take less strength, but the direction behind them must be so exact. In some ways, the probability of all winds coming together is greater than the probability of one wind coming from nowhere to do one small task and then disappearing.”

Wanda held her hand towards the tree tops. One of the hanging branches began to sway, knocking against the trunk in a steady beat. The leaves in that particular tree rustled with each knock, but whatever wind was moving the branch wasn’t touching them.

Wanda continued, “If you don’t care what gets disturbed in the process, hexes are much easier.”

Suddenly all the tree tops shook. It was a bit like standing in the middle of the world’s largest wind chime as the broken branches swung and knocked against the tree trunks, making different pitched noises. Wanda cocked her head to the side, listening.

Gradually the treetops stilled until only four branches were left knocking. Each had a very distinctive sound. The winds were moving them at different speeds, and it took Carol a moment to realize that Wanda was playing them like a musical instrument. The deepest sounding branch was still moving at a steady beat while the other three were pounding out a lively rhythm.

“Nature is your xylophone,” Carol noted dryly, but she was impressed. Something about using wind and towering trees as instruments was awe inspiring. Maybe it was just the size; it reminded Carol vaguely of a huge pipe organ she heard in a church as a child. Back then, the rows of pipes had seemed like a forest to her.

“We’d be a very dull species if we only used nature for food and shelter,” Wanda replied.

“With lives like ours, dull isn’t a bad thing.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

“Good, because after standing still for so long, I really want to stretch.” And then Wanda began to dance.

Carol stared, fascinated, as Wanda raised both her arms high above her head with fluid, snakelike movements. She moved her feet with quick steps that matched the rhythm of the branches while languidly rolling her hips.

“Dull is fine,” Wanda murmured as she arched her back, letting the movement travel down her body like a wave. “But imagine how trapped our species would be without music or dance as expression.”

A tree overhanging the stream shook, and a rain of sticks fell into the water like the clapping of castanets. Wanda shimmied her body to the sound.

“I prefer language.” Carol said, mouth dry.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

Wanda’s smile was dangerously close to a smirk. “Language does the trick if you need to say something in a hurry. But if you have a few minutes and some muscle cramps to work out, nothing beats a dance for sending a message.”

“And what message is that?”

Wanda sighed, tipping her head back and curving her arms outwards. “Do you ever feel that there’s a... a window after each victory, where it’s okay to celebrate, where you’ve earned the right to smile? But then the window shuts too soon, and you have to act somber because people have died and property has been damaged, and you know of one more person whose brain allows them to think they can do these terrible things.”

Carol frowned. She rarely celebrated victories for herself. She felt good about them, but rarely in a way that warranted a change in behavior. But she could understand how someone as empathetic as Wanda might feel the highs and lows of battle more acutely. “I suppose,” she answered.

“Well, the message is that the window is still open. It won’t be for long, though, so I’ll be as joyful as I can for the moment.” She reached out one arm, palm up, fingers splayed, and spun. Each tree she passed shook like a mammoth maraca until she’d made a complete circle. In the black t-shirt with her hair wild and her gestures passionate, she reminded Carol of nothing so much as a rock star.

Wanda was beautiful and untamed and gentle and motherly. She was cheerful and sorrowful and coolly distant. Carol wanted to kiss her.

Carol shook her head. She didn’t want Wanda all to herself. She wasn’t even sure if she was or ever had been in love with Wanda. All she knew was that they were friends despite the things that had come between them. Against all odds, she trusted Wanda and Wanda trusted her.

Maybe Wanda would let Carol kiss her.

Carol didn’t believe that adding sex to a friendship made it inherently better or worse. Like adding superpowers to a person, it could enhance, complicate, or corrupt. It depended on what was there before and how it happened.

She didn’t want to make vows that set one person in her life above all others. She just wanted to keep her friendship with Wanda, and make it as good as possible for as long as possible. And she had no idea how to go about saying that. It wasn’t like she could ask Wanda if her heart was over Vision or if she could love two people at once and, by the way, did thoughts of girls do anything for her?

Some days Carol wished she was psychic, because it sucked trying to figure out who would welcome her kind of friendship and who would find it deviant.

Well, she’d move when the time felt right, and at that point she’d have to do her best with language.

“I have three questions,” she told Wanda.

“Yes?”

“Is the window still open?”

Wanda smiled. “I think it’s open as long as we stay here. Maybe longer.”

“Good. Can you strike up the band again? I want to dance, too.”

The smile grew. “I’d be delighted to.” She lifted her hands in preparation. “What was the last question?”

“I’ll ask you later. For now I just want to dance with you.”

Wanda raised an eyebrow. “Is your question something that doesn’t belong in our window of celebration?”

Carol considered this. “No, it’s just that I haven’t figured out how to express it yet.”

“Then music and dance is exactly what you need. You might ask me without using words, and I might even have your answer before the question is spoken.”

Carol opened her mouth to respond, but the wind had started blowing again and the trees were making their loud, staccato music.

Words were overrated, anyway.

Bad days still happened. This didn’t surprise Tony, of course. He wasn’t naive enough to think that starting a new Avengers team would make everything better, but the truth was it did help.

He’d been apprehensive about a new team. He’d thought it was too soon, considering he was still kept awake at night with a drowning feeling in his chest when he thought about the end of the Avengers. That he had failed to see his team crumbling weighed on him. His friends had died because of what he had done and what he had failed to do, and he didn’t know if that was something that could or should be forgiven. But Steve had asked, and having Steve nearby was comforting in a way that almost touched all that guilt.

And it was nice having a team living together again. Tony liked hearing Spider Man and Spider Woman trade barbs, and watching Luke and Jessica Jones flirt. It was nice to see Steve and Jarvis discuss a book, or even see Steve and Logan regard each other with a mixture of distrust and respect.

But then there were the times like last evening. Fresh from a work out, Tony had stopped by the New Avenger’s kitchen for a glass of orange juice. He could hear voices in the next room over, loud and amiable.

As he had left the kitchen he took a left and headed for his room with his mind absorbed in thoughts of business. Another left and he headed for the first door on the right, fully expecting it to be his bedroom. Instead he had found himself blinking stupidly at a linen closet. It took him several moments to realize he had been remembering the kitchen-to-bedroom path from the mansion.

He hadn’t slept well last night. He had kept walking through the mansion in his dreams, opening doors that led to empty rooms.

Today wasn’t faring much better. It was only one in the afternoon, and he’d already stubbed a toe against his bedroom door and suffered through a board of directors meeting. Now he was locked in battle with a rampaging sea creature. Normally that wouldn’t bother him in the least, but today he was kept from enjoyment by the fact that his repulsor boots were apparently malfunctioning.

He was having trouble keeping a steady elevation. He bobbed slightly in the air as he blasted the creature with his gauntlets, doing his best to keep it away from the docked boats.

Below him, Cap threw his shield. It ricocheted off of the creature’s snout and back into Cap’s hands. The creature gave an angry snort, turned in the water, and began swimming back out to sea.

Tony considered going after it to try to tag it. They could use some advance notice if it came back, and it would be good to know where in the vast ocean this thing was living. But he didn’t want to risk any extra time in the air if his boots weren’t working. He descended rather unevenly and landed next to Steve only to find the other man grinning at him.

“What?” he asked, the question coming out more testily than he intended it.

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just... you reminded me of a song.”

Tony blinked, caught off guard. “Which one?”

Steve whistled a few notes, but trailed off as Tony stared at him. “Never mind. Just an old song I like.”

People were starting to reemerge onto the docks, checking the damage to the boats. Some were unabashedly staring at the two super heroes, while others were wandering towards them while pointedly looking at other things, as if it were a total accident they were coming closer with cameras in hand.

Tony wanted to press for the name of the song or more of the faintly familiar tune. He didn’t want to hang around, though. “I’ve got an international call in half an hour,” he told Steve. Not that he was looking forward to it, but it was unavoidable.

“Go on, then. I’ve got everything under control here.”

Tony sighed. Steve was always so prepared to take on more than his share of responsibilities. It made him feel guilty, which fed into his foul mood. “You sure? You’re in danger of invoking Stark’s Law.”

“Which one’s that? If it can go faster, it should go faster?”

“No; the longer one stays at the scene of a fight, the greater one’s chance of being sued.”

Steve smiled at him. “That may be true, but one’s chances of getting fresh baked banana bread from a happy bystander go up, too.”

Tony huffed. “That’s Rogers's Law. Doesn’t apply to me.”

The interpreter Tony had arranged for the international call was losing her voice, but stubbornly insisted she was fine. Tony winced at every scratchy, raspy word out of her mouth. Five minutes in, Tony asked his prospective business liaison if he would rather keep the interpreter or wait half an hour while Tony found someone whose voice didn’t sound like broken glass. There was an awkward pause before the interpreter conveyed the message.

Either the liaison had nerves of steel or was extremely impatient, and the interpreter stayed. To distract himself from the irritating voice, Tony mentally analyzed his armor’s boots. Why was their propulsion uneven? He could picture them perfectly, gleaming red casing which he removed and set aside in his mind, revealing the nuts, bolts, and circuitry beneath.

Soon his hands were itching to pick up a set of tools and do some real work. If he faked an emergency call, he could be off the phone and in his garage in no time. If he were smart he’d have taken this call in his garage... he sighed. If he were smart he’d think about something less distracting until this call was over.

He reminded Steve of a song. That was rather... romantic.

No, it wasn’t. Tony shook his head as the interpreter lapsed into a coughing fit. Associating a person with a song could be romantic, but there was nothing inherently romantic about it. It was like giving someone a mix tape; it all depended on the songs. Fill it with platonic dance numbers and he could give it to Pepper without raising suspicions. Fill it with songs with titles containing words like ‘heart’, ‘forever’, and ‘baby’, and even Rhodey, should he receive it, would start to wonder.

So what song did he remind Steve of? To be honest, he’d take even an incredibly sappy song with all three of those words in the title if it meant Steve had a romantic interest in him. Sure, he’d question Steve’s taste in music, but he wouldn’t be able to fault him his taste in men. Not without his neurosis showing, at any rate.

He had to stop this. He was reading too much into the situation. It might be fun to pretend that the way Steve looked at him, talked to him, and casually touched him meant he wanted a different sort of friendship, but these conclusions were a mirror, not a window. He was the one who wanted it, not Steve.

Tony smoothly deflected a question about Stark Industries role in the New Avengers. Pining was ridiculous, and pining for Steve was doubly so. To distract himself, he focused on the scratchy voice of the interpreter.

He had new connections in a country where formerly he had none by the time he hung up. He also had a minor headache. Jarvis reserved the best coffee for the Avengers kitchen, so that’s where he headed.

The kitchen wasn’t empty. Steve was standing at the stove, stirring a large pot. The tangy scent of cooking tomato filled the room. An ornate mahogany record player was set up on the kitchen table, spinning away merrily, and Steve was tapping his foot to the tune. Tony didn’t recognize the song, but the style of the smokey singing and piano music suggested something from the thirties or forties. There was a small stack of records next to the player.

Steve looked up before Tony could announce his presence. “Hey,” Steve said, breaking into a grin that rivaled the afternoon sunlight for warmth.

Tony could feel his bad mood begin to fade. His teammate had pushed his sleeves up to his elbows, and Tony was having a hard time looking away from his bare forearms. “Hey,” he replied. “Smells good.”

“Thanks.” Steve gave a final stir, tapping the ladle against the side of the pot before setting it on the counter. “All compliments should go to May, though. She’s making chili for dinner, and asked me to keep an eye on it while she takes a nap.” He placed a heavy-looking glass lid on the pot, his movements so delicate he might as well have been handling Swarovski crystal.

“A nap sounds nice,” Tony said wistfully.

“There’s only an hour ‘til dinner,” Steve said, glancing at the wall clock. As of a couple months ago, it was a Felix the Cat shaped clock with a swinging tail. No one had yet admitted to bringing it to the tower. “You could eat with us and then go to bed early.”

He gave Steve the incredulous look that statement deserved.

“What? Haven’t you ever heard that early to bed, early to rise...”

“And your girlfriend goes out with other guys?”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “That’s not the way I learned it. At least stay for dinner, Tony. When and where you sleep is completely up to you.”

Tony felt his chest tighten at the casual words. He knew where he’d be sleeping if it were up to him. “I might be able to. I’ll check my workload.”

“Great! I’ll set a place for you.”

Tony experienced déjà vu as Steve clapped his shoulder. This was exactly how he had ended up playing host to a new gaggle of super heroes. “You’re aware that wasn’t a yes, right?”

Steve shrugged cheerfully. “You’re aware I never asked you a question, right? Come on, sit down and keep me company.”

He was stirring the chili again. Tony frowned. It was too hard to argue with him when he sounded so happy, so he pulled out a chair at the table and sat. “I know you take duty very seriously, but I’m sure May wouldn’t mind if you left the kitchen. She probably meant for you to check the pot every now and then, not watch it boil.”

Steve put the ladle down. “Maybe, but I like it here.” He held out an arm expressively. “Sunny kitchen, food on the stove, hit songs on the radio - just like when I used to watch my mom cook.” He came over and sat on the edge of the table, next to the record player, facing Tony. With his elbows on his knees, their faces were almost level.

“She didn’t make chili, though. We had... well, beans were affordable, we had them a lot. She’d soak them overnight. I remember the smell they’d give off. Then in the morning she’d put them in the oven with molasses and water, and they’d be ready by the time my father came home. I could draw at the table as long as I didn’t make too much of a mess, and if one of her favorite songs came on the radio my mom would dance with me.”

Tony tried to picture Steve as a boy, small and thin, dancing with a worn but smiling woman in a kitchen more than three quarters of a century ago. It was hard. Steve had such an immediate presence that it felt like blasphemy to think of him belonging to a different age. Still, it was good to see him cherishing a memory. “That sounds nice,” Tony said.

“It was nice.” Steve stood, taking Tony’s hand and pulling him to his feet. Bemused, Tony allowed himself to be spun until both his hands were back in Steve’s hands. Steve began stepping to the upbeat music, and because he couldn’t say he minded, Tony matched his steps to Steve’s.

“We’re dancing,” Tony noted.

“Darn, you noticed.”

“Why are we dancing?”

“I’m testing out a theory that enjoyment of kitchen-dancing doesn’t diminish with age. Well, that or I just like this song.” As if to prove his point, he whistled along with the next few lines.

When the red, red robin comes
Bob, bob bobbin’ along, along

It took Tony a moment to realize that the tune Steve was whistling was the same one he’d teased him with earlier that day. Now that the whistling was side-by-side the lyrics, he had no idea how he had failed to recognize the song.

Bewildered, Tony asked, “I reminded you of Red Red Robin?”

“Well,” Steve spun Tony again as the lyrics implored them to wake up, wake up, you sleepy head; get up, get up, get out of bed. “When we were fighting that creature by the docks, there was something up with your armor’s boots, and you were...”

“Suffering from fluctuations in flight elevation.”

“...bobbing. You were bright red against the sky, and the song just popped into my head.”

Disappointment flooded Tony. It had just been a chance association, nothing intimate or romantic. He’d still been hoping that reminding Steve of a song would mean reminding him of sex or love or something at least remotely sensual. Instead, the comparison fell in the realm of good natured jibbing.

Steve let go of Tony’s right hand, freeing his left hand to rest on the small of Tony’s back. It took Tony a moment to recognize the slow-quick step of the foxtrot, and a moment longer to take up Steve’s lead. He hadn’t danced the foxtrot in years, and he was unused to doing it backwards. Steve smiled. “Also, this song is familiar and comfortable, like you. And this song makes me happy, like you do.”

It would be safer to laugh that comment off, but Tony couldn’t, not when hope was suddenly relit. “I make you happy?”

“Like a favorite song, or a sunny kitchen, or a victory without casualties.”

“Those are vastly different things.”

“Still fits. You make me happy in vastly different ways.” Steve danced them past the windows, through the pools of evening light and past the stove. Tony knew it was an unsubtle way to check on May’s chili again. He grinned, feeling warm.

Steve continued. “You make me happy the red, red robin way.” He let go of Tony’s hand to use the backs of his index and middle fingers to tip Tony’s chin up slightly, “And the jeepers creepers, where’d you get those peepers way.” Steve leaned in, his mouth close to Tony’s ear. “And the it’s delightful, it’s delicious, it’s delovely way.” With a dip of his head, Steve kissed the soft skin behind his ear at the edge of his jaw line. Tony stopped dancing completely and rose on the balls of his feet, pressing his neck harder against the warm lips. The contact was exhilarating, and it was making him buzz the way he did after recharging his heart.

Steve moved his mouth down Tony’s neck, dragging against the sensitive skin and stopping above his carotid pulse point. He lingered there, inhaling deeply. “And I was thinking, Tony, that the New Avengers are coming together so well. Maybe it’s a sign that now is a good time for new beginnings.”

He drew back, looking Tony in the eyes once more. “We’re both healing from what happened to the Avengers, and I can see us settling into our old roles. I think before the wound heals and scars are set, we should change. I want something new for us while we still have time. I waited before because we had something really good and I didn’t want to jeopardize that. And then we were both in bad places and I wasn’t sure we could recover.”

“But now here we are, making each other happy,” Tony said.

“Here we are,” Steve repeated with a smile. The last song finished playing and now the record was spinning with the needle in the lock groove, producing a soft background noise of pops and clicks.

“Want to celebrate us being here by taking this somewhere else?” Tony asked, returning the smile. He hadn’t felt this good in a long time, even with new threads of trepidation running through his head. The second thoughts could wait. “I’ve thought of a way you could get me to bed early.”

Steve laughed. “Not a chance. May made us this chili, and the New Avengers are going to eat together as a team.” Reluctantly he let go of Tony, and once more went to check on the chili. As he lifted the lid, he added, “If the New Avengers are going to last, we have to do this right.”

“Yes, I know.” Tony supposed he could wait a couple hours, especially when Steve put it like that. He sat back down and began flipping through the stack of records, looking for a new one to put on. “Promise me one thing, though?”

Steve turned to look at him. “What is it?”

“Red Red Robin will not be our song. It’ll ruin my image forever.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t see how appropriate it is for you. By the way, I’ve always thought your costume would look great with some wings painted on the side of your helmet, and-”

“What can I do to make you stop this line of thought?” Tony asked, horrified.

“You could set the table.”

“Consider it done.”

Reintroduction

2009-03-25T04:20:43Z

I feel like I should use this journal for more than fic, seeing as I post about four fic a year. And I do devote a lot of time to fandom, so it's not like I have a shortage of things to ramble about.

It's just that I'm so used to keeping fandom stuff inside my head that it feels weird to put it out there. There are like, three people I can talk to about fanfic and fandom drama without getting the eye roll. Not that I mind or care - I eye roll over football drama, after all.

I want to talk about fandom hopping and comic books and Doctor Who and Life on Mars, so I probably will over the next week. Then I'll probably abandon this journal for another six months. ;-) Or not.

Geek Kon Report (finally!)

2008-10-14T01:12:13Z

So, about three weeks after the fact, here it is - my brief report on Geek Kon. Why yes, I do fail at getting things done in a timely manner!

I got there fairly early on Saturday, registered, and wandered around trying to find the panel rooms. I hadn't been in the Humanities building in quite awhile, and that thing is like a maze to me. Eventually I found the right basement corner, and sat in on part of a Joss Whedon panel. While I like Buffy and love Firefly, I'm not a devoted Whedon fan, so it didn't interest me too much.

Next I went to a panel called SF Films of 2008. The man running the panel had a list of every sci-fi, fantasy, and horror movie that came out this year, most of which he had seen. He went through each of them, sometimes showing the trailer on the overhead, sharing his opinion and asking for the opinions of others who had seen them. I'd hoped to share my thoughts on ~~yaoi~~ Iron Man, the Hulk, and the X-Files, but I left before we reached any of those.

Why did I leave? For my main reason for attending on Saturday: the fanfiction panel. I was super excited to meet nieded in person and chat about my favorite hobby with a room full of like-minded people. How often do you get to sit in a room full of fanfic authors? Not often enough, I tell you. For that matter, how often do you get to meet a person whose fanfic you really admire?

It was a fun panel, if a bit unstructured. Strangely enough, it was run by a guy. Most of the attendees wrote anime fanfic, from what I gathered. We talked a little bit about everything from AUs to Mary Sues. To be honest, I had more fun afterwards chatting about Torchwood, Doctor Who and House over lunch with nieded.

At 6 I went to the History of Fandom panel, which was excellent. The guy talked about how fandom progressed from it's very beginnings (he thought it began in 1926, with a sci-fi magazine that prompted mass mailings between fans) to fanzines and conventions to the internet fandoms we know today.

He started by saying that any good presenter should be lucky if the audience goes away with three important points in their memory; to make it easier he gave us three important points right up front: 1. All Fandoms are Equal, 2. Seduce the Young, and 3. Always Bring a Book. It was a small crowd (for a while just me, ilaifire and one other dude, but more trickled in), so we all had a chance to talk about our fandom experiences.

On Sunday I dressed up in a big green dress with funny sleeves, visited the vendors and bought Wonder Woman pins, and had a blast at the Doctor Who panel. Here is some photographic evidence of its awesomeness:

Yes, that's a homemade Dalek. The dude made it out of a washing machine and other recycled materials over the span of two years.

I totally regret not taking any pictures of nieded, because she sported a very cute shirt printed with Doctor Who dialogue. I blame this obvious error on my new camera - it's so small I forgot I had it with me most of the time. Damn technology. (I'm also blaming it for the blurriness of the photos.)

We talked about the history and the future of Doctor Who, and watched several appropriate youTube videos. A good time was had by all!

House & Geek Kon

2008-09-24T18:05:31Z

This is the second year of Geek Kon - Madison's free geek convention. I missed last year's for Gaylaxicon in Atlanta, so I'm very interested in making it this year. Luckily, it's landing on my scheduled off weekend.

I wish I'd remembered a bit sooner, as I think it would be awesome to be on a panel or have an elaborate costume. As it is, I only remembered on Monday. Grr. All the same, I can probably do some period clothes, or my super lazy Fourth Doctor costume (Long scarf and curly hair? Check!). Heck, I could carry around the dilapidated cardboard TARDIS I made last Halloween.

The first two episodes of the fifth season of House have been pretty good. I'm not loving the P.I guy yet - he feels like he doesn't belong on this show, like the writers were thinking more about his potential spin-off than House M.D. - but I'll give him a chance. For some reason I'm really loving Thirteen. But as everyone knows, the real highlight so far is how much pain it causes House and Wilson to be apart. That scene last night at Wilson's apartment? Ouch. Ouch and yay.