Fandom Silliness
Been meaning to post this in here for awhile, but I kept spacing it. Anyhoo, this is something a wrote and posted in rensong a month or two ago, and I figured I should probably post it in here too seeing as this *is* a writing journal, even though I already have it in my personal journal. But, hey, "double your pleasure, double your fun," right? :D
Title: Doesn't have one
Fandom: Anything I've ever written, in fandom or otherwise, is fair game
Summary: You know how we always stuff our muses in the closet when we don't want to deal with them? Welcome to my Closet. :D
Explanation: In which I gob all the fan fictions/stories/whatevers I've written over the years into one big ol' crazy multi-fandom crack fest. :)
~*~
Adam really didn't have much chance to figure out what was going on. One moment he was in Archadia, working on his Chemistry homework, the next moment he heard a shriek sounding something like "Dude, Adam is mine!" and suddenly he found himself being shoved into a closet by a crazy woman with long brown hair. For a moment he thought it was Joan, but as the closet door was slammed in his face and he was left staring dumbly at the hickory-stained wood, he got the impression that Joan was about a foot taller then whoever this wacko woman was. He also found it rather odd that, despite the fact that he had most definitely just been kidnapped and locked in a closet, he was surprisingly calm, as if stuff like this happened every day. He contemplated trying the door handle for a heart beat, thinking that he should at least make some token effort at escape, but upon noticing that the door didn't have one, he turned to take into account his new quarters instead.
The first thing he noticed once he turned around was a tall guy wearing black jeans and a Grateful Dead t-shirt, juggling what appeared to be three shrunken heads. The guy appeared to be somewhere in his mid-20s, with slightly messy brown hair and a hint of a 5 o'clock shadow on his face.
"Hey, Newbie! Welcome to Maren's closet!" The guy stopped juggling long enough to slap Adam on the shoulder while turning to usher him further into the room. The space seemed awful big for a closet. "I'm Gabriel - Gabe for short. Information on all things Witchblade and general knowledge in the myths and legends department, with special exceptions for... other... duties." It didn't take much guessing to figure out what those 'other' duties were, judging by the grin on the older guys face, especially considering that the brief glimpse he'd gotten of their gracious host - Adam figured that she was the Maren Gabriel had mentioned - had seemed pretty promising. "You got a name, or should we just call you Newbie?" Gabriel continued.
"Uh... Adam," he answered, still not quite sure what the hell was going on, but willing enough to go along for the ride. "My name is Adam."
"Adam... Adam..." Gabriel chanted out loud, like he was trying to place the name. "Oh! From Joan of Archadia!"
What? What does Joan have to do with anything? "Um, well... I know a Joan who lives in Archadia."
Gabriel just laughed. "Never mind, man. Come on, lemme introduce you to everyone." With that, Adam found himself being ushered into an even bigger room, complete with a pool table and a Foosball table sitting in the middle, a couple of arcade games to the left, and a big screen TV with over-stuffed couch to the right. There was also quite a number of people, almost all of whom looked weirdly familiar. His over all impression was that Maren's Closet wasn't a bad place to be.
"Over there at the arcade we have Jarod and Draco," Gabriel indicated the pair of guys playing Mario Cart, one an older man probably in his mid 30s with semi-long brown hair and a black t-shirt, and the other was a youth of maybe 16 or 17 with white-blond hair wearing a dark green tee with "Slytherin Pride" scrawled across his chest in silver lettering. Joan had made Adam read the Harry Potter books, so it was easy enough to figure out which one Draco was, and he vaguely remembered watching something with a guy who looked like Jarod in it when he was younger. As to why Draco, Jarod, or anyone else would be in Maren's closet, Adam was still kinda confused on that part.
"That's John and Harry over there on the couch vegging in front of the big screen," Gabriel continued, pointing to the other side of the room where another teenager, this one with messy brown hair and slightly baggy clothing, was reclining on the sofa next to another man who appeared to be in his mid-30s. This guy was also sporting a black shirt, but instead of blue jeans like the one currently losing to Draco on Mario Cart was wearing, this one was making a statement with black leather pants. They both sent a half-wave over their shoulder at Adam and Gabriel, though neither ever took their eyes off the TV where one of the old Star Wars movies was currently playing.
"At the pool table you have Rose and Fey. They're both originals, so I doubt you would recognize either of them." The two young woman he indicated looked up at the sound of their names. One, wearing black and grey riding leathers with a slender gold circlet across her brow, gave a slow nod of acknowledgment with all the dignity of a queen. The other one, wearing a shimery grey-blue gown that highlighted her silver hair and blue eyes also nodded at the two of them, but a hint of a smile and a spark of fire in her eye softened the gesture a bit. Both of them then turned their attention back to the pool game they were currently in the middle of. Adam never though Pool could look so dignified.
Then he turned his attention to the final two figures in the room; two women currently in the middle of what seemed to be a very competitive game of Foosball. Two very, very attractive women that made his mind go very, very happy places, despite how they seemed totally engrossed in their current game. One was wearing a short, black business suit with an attitude that screamed "Bitch-and-loving-it"; the other was wearing black leather. Lots and lots of tight, black leather. Adam didn't even realize he had been staring with a no-doubt blissful 'I've died and gone to heaven'look on his face until he heard Gabriel's bark of laughter next to him. He hoped he hadn't been drooling, too. "And there, my friend," Gabriel finished, "you have Parker and Aeryn; two of the toughest chicks you'll ever come across."
"Oh," Adam said dazedly, "how nice."
Gabriel laughed again. "Sorry, my man... they're taken. Parker's got the hots for Jarod over there, and Aeryn and John might as well be connected at the hip - among other things," he added with a wink before continuing, "for all the time they spend together. Besides, they may look tough and 'all that', but they're harmless as kittens once you get to know 'em."
"I heard that, Deadhead" the one who Adam remembered seeing on the same show with Jarod spoke up at Gabriel's last comment. "You better watch it, or one of these days you'll wake up and find yourself... lacking... in areas of usefulness to our host." She paused dramatically at the word "lacking", and Gabriel winced, shifting to stand with his legs a little closer together.
"Very violent kittens," he amended quickly, "With very sharp claws." Parker smirked evilly, never once taking her eyes off the game in front of her.
Introductions over, Gabriel started juggling his shrunken heads again. "There are others around here somewhere," he continued, doing a fancy under the arm and over the shoulder toss, "this is only the main room. There's also a kitchen and a couple of bathrooms, and there's a library through the door at your left there, as each of us came with our own supply of information and pop-culture references. We all have our own rooms, too. Or, well, most of us have our own rooms. Just hope to god yours isn't right next to John and Aeryn's," he finished.
"Are you kidding?" Aeryn asked in a lightly accented voice, giving a particularly viscous spin to one of her Foosball dowels. The action was followed closely by a hallow 'thunk' and a sigh of exasperation from Parker, while Aeryn herself smirked triumphantly and added another point to her side of the table before continuing, "We can hear you all the way in here on those nights you spend in Maren's room, and her room is on the other side of the house!"
Gabriel just grinned. "What can I say, I aim to please!"
"Yeah, right," Draco scoffed, all his attention still apparently directed at the screen in front of him, "If you're the one doing the pleasing, then how come we never hear her making any noise?" He pressed a sequence of buttons on his N-64 controller and his character - Bowser, or so it appeared from where Adam was standing - sent a red shell zooming toward Jarod's Luegi, sending the green-clad Italian into a spin and knocking the last balloon from the back of his cart. "Ha! Eat shell, you bloody bastard!"
"How are you doing this?!" Jarod exclaimed, dropping the controller and running his hands through his hair. "How are you beating me?! I'm a damn genius, for crying out loud!"
"And I'm an Evil Genius. It's all in the evil part," Draco answered.
"Yeah," said Harry, getting up from the couch to grab himself another soda, "And he also cheats."
"Humph. You're just jealous because you can never beat me at Scrabble, either. Up for another game, Jarod?"
Riiiight... This place just kept getting weirder and weirder. "Um... yeah. Would someone mind clueing me in?" Adam asked finally, "I mean, as cool as it is to meet you all, what are you doing in Maren's closet?"
"We're muses," John said, getting up from the couch, "Or, well, most of us are muses. Gabey-boy over there is pretty much just information fodder since Maren doesn't write in that fandom, though I imagine you've already guessed what other uses he has. Anyway, we're here to inspire, give voice to the characters Maren recreates - or creates," he amended hastily with a nod in Rose and Fey's direction, "in her writings. Aeryn's her Farscape muse, I'm her annoying VidMuse, Harry and Draco over there take care of the Harry Potter stories, and Jarod and Parker got the Pretender fandom."
At that moment, a tiny green alien came scampering between them from the hallway on the right, cackling evilly. A large silver wolf followed close on his heels, seeming hell-bent on murder where the little alien was concerned. 'C'mere, you little twerp! Try to set a mousetrap on my tail, will you? I swear, as soon as I get my paws on you, there won't be enough left of you to fill a thimble when I'm done!' Adam felt that he really should have been surprised at the voice speaking in his head, but he wasn't. He just watched as the two did a few laps around the room, knocking over the occasional chair or pile of books, before disappearing into the library.
"The wolf was Shadowmist, one of the characters in Maren's novel," John continued after a moment. "The little green guy is Clore. Watch out for him, hes rather fond of playing dirty tricks on anyone and everyone. We've all tried to 'accidentally' step on him, but the little bugger is fast."
"How the hell Shadowmist has managed to restrain herself from chomping the little dude until now is anyone's guess," said another man as he walked into the room from the doorway next to the TV. This time it was a tall African-American with braided dreadlocks, wearing shorts and a baggy t-shirt with the sleeves torn off and carrying a basketball. He was followed closely by another man, this time Caucasian, wearing a similar outfit, with shoulder length dark brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. The first man approached Adam, hand outstretched, which Adam accepted without hesitation. "Welcome to the Closet, my man. I'm Bruce, believer of all things Dead Zone, and this galactic mistake behind me is Marcus, 'Live for the one, die for the One' Ranger and source for all things Babylon 5."
"I prefer to think of myself as galactic entrepreneur, thankyouverymuch," Marcus answered in a prominent English accent. He also offered his hand to Adam, "How do you do."
Adam accepted his hand with a nod. "Are you guys muses too?"
Bruce shook his head. "Nah, we're just guys Maren likes having around and owning. I think she has some control issues."
"And I'm just a pretty boy she keeps around for comedic relief," Marcus added. "Oh, yeah, and the occasional lesson on how to use a staff. She rather likes to shatter things."
"Pretty-boy my ass! I'm way prettier then you are!" John argued.
"Ah, but you don't have the accent. I'm pretty and I have an accent. Best of both worlds!" Marcus shot back. "Now, however, this pretty boy needs water. And a shower. What you Yanks see in this bloody game called Basketball is beyond me." With that, he wandered off, singing, "I feel pretty, oh so pretty!"
Bruce just laughed. "He's just sore because white men still can't jump."
"I heard that!" came Marcus's disembodied voice from somewhere down the hall he just wandered down. Bruce just kept on laughing.
"Sooo," Adam said after a moment. He gestured at John and everyone else who were the muses. "You guys are here to inspire Maren in her writing." They nodded. "And you guys," he pointed at Bruce and Gabriel, "you guys are here for information and because she likes having you around. Well... where do I come in? I mean, as far as I know, she doesn't write in... What did you say I was from? Joan of Archadia? And I don't think I have any information that would be of use to her... So why am I here in the closet with all the rest of you?"
"I don't think you give yourself enough credit, man," Bruce answered, "I'm sure she stuck you in here for a reason."
"Oh, yeah..." Gabriel said with a wink before turning his attention back to his shrunken heads, "I'm sure she'll find some use for you."
"Okay," Adam said with a shrug. He paused for a moment then, contemplating his new station in life. Then he turned back to Gabriel and asked, "Are those things real?" indicating the shrunken heads he was currently tossing around.
"These? Nah," Gabriel answered, doing some more fancy juggling tosses. "These are just hacky sacks. The real ones have, like, zero aerodynamics and are sitting on a shelf in my room."
Title: Doesn't have one
Fandom: Anything I've ever written, in fandom or otherwise, is fair game
Summary: You know how we always stuff our muses in the closet when we don't want to deal with them? Welcome to my Closet. :D
Explanation: In which I gob all the fan fictions/stories/whatevers I've written over the years into one big ol' crazy multi-fandom crack fest. :)
~*~
Adam really didn't have much chance to figure out what was going on. One moment he was in Archadia, working on his Chemistry homework, the next moment he heard a shriek sounding something like "Dude, Adam is mine!" and suddenly he found himself being shoved into a closet by a crazy woman with long brown hair. For a moment he thought it was Joan, but as the closet door was slammed in his face and he was left staring dumbly at the hickory-stained wood, he got the impression that Joan was about a foot taller then whoever this wacko woman was. He also found it rather odd that, despite the fact that he had most definitely just been kidnapped and locked in a closet, he was surprisingly calm, as if stuff like this happened every day. He contemplated trying the door handle for a heart beat, thinking that he should at least make some token effort at escape, but upon noticing that the door didn't have one, he turned to take into account his new quarters instead.
The first thing he noticed once he turned around was a tall guy wearing black jeans and a Grateful Dead t-shirt, juggling what appeared to be three shrunken heads. The guy appeared to be somewhere in his mid-20s, with slightly messy brown hair and a hint of a 5 o'clock shadow on his face.
"Hey, Newbie! Welcome to Maren's closet!" The guy stopped juggling long enough to slap Adam on the shoulder while turning to usher him further into the room. The space seemed awful big for a closet. "I'm Gabriel - Gabe for short. Information on all things Witchblade and general knowledge in the myths and legends department, with special exceptions for... other... duties." It didn't take much guessing to figure out what those 'other' duties were, judging by the grin on the older guys face, especially considering that the brief glimpse he'd gotten of their gracious host - Adam figured that she was the Maren Gabriel had mentioned - had seemed pretty promising. "You got a name, or should we just call you Newbie?" Gabriel continued.
"Uh... Adam," he answered, still not quite sure what the hell was going on, but willing enough to go along for the ride. "My name is Adam."
"Adam... Adam..." Gabriel chanted out loud, like he was trying to place the name. "Oh! From Joan of Archadia!"
What? What does Joan have to do with anything? "Um, well... I know a Joan who lives in Archadia."
Gabriel just laughed. "Never mind, man. Come on, lemme introduce you to everyone." With that, Adam found himself being ushered into an even bigger room, complete with a pool table and a Foosball table sitting in the middle, a couple of arcade games to the left, and a big screen TV with over-stuffed couch to the right. There was also quite a number of people, almost all of whom looked weirdly familiar. His over all impression was that Maren's Closet wasn't a bad place to be.
"Over there at the arcade we have Jarod and Draco," Gabriel indicated the pair of guys playing Mario Cart, one an older man probably in his mid 30s with semi-long brown hair and a black t-shirt, and the other was a youth of maybe 16 or 17 with white-blond hair wearing a dark green tee with "Slytherin Pride" scrawled across his chest in silver lettering. Joan had made Adam read the Harry Potter books, so it was easy enough to figure out which one Draco was, and he vaguely remembered watching something with a guy who looked like Jarod in it when he was younger. As to why Draco, Jarod, or anyone else would be in Maren's closet, Adam was still kinda confused on that part.
"That's John and Harry over there on the couch vegging in front of the big screen," Gabriel continued, pointing to the other side of the room where another teenager, this one with messy brown hair and slightly baggy clothing, was reclining on the sofa next to another man who appeared to be in his mid-30s. This guy was also sporting a black shirt, but instead of blue jeans like the one currently losing to Draco on Mario Cart was wearing, this one was making a statement with black leather pants. They both sent a half-wave over their shoulder at Adam and Gabriel, though neither ever took their eyes off the TV where one of the old Star Wars movies was currently playing.
"At the pool table you have Rose and Fey. They're both originals, so I doubt you would recognize either of them." The two young woman he indicated looked up at the sound of their names. One, wearing black and grey riding leathers with a slender gold circlet across her brow, gave a slow nod of acknowledgment with all the dignity of a queen. The other one, wearing a shimery grey-blue gown that highlighted her silver hair and blue eyes also nodded at the two of them, but a hint of a smile and a spark of fire in her eye softened the gesture a bit. Both of them then turned their attention back to the pool game they were currently in the middle of. Adam never though Pool could look so dignified.
Then he turned his attention to the final two figures in the room; two women currently in the middle of what seemed to be a very competitive game of Foosball. Two very, very attractive women that made his mind go very, very happy places, despite how they seemed totally engrossed in their current game. One was wearing a short, black business suit with an attitude that screamed "Bitch-and-loving-it"; the other was wearing black leather. Lots and lots of tight, black leather. Adam didn't even realize he had been staring with a no-doubt blissful 'I've died and gone to heaven'look on his face until he heard Gabriel's bark of laughter next to him. He hoped he hadn't been drooling, too. "And there, my friend," Gabriel finished, "you have Parker and Aeryn; two of the toughest chicks you'll ever come across."
"Oh," Adam said dazedly, "how nice."
Gabriel laughed again. "Sorry, my man... they're taken. Parker's got the hots for Jarod over there, and Aeryn and John might as well be connected at the hip - among other things," he added with a wink before continuing, "for all the time they spend together. Besides, they may look tough and 'all that', but they're harmless as kittens once you get to know 'em."
"I heard that, Deadhead" the one who Adam remembered seeing on the same show with Jarod spoke up at Gabriel's last comment. "You better watch it, or one of these days you'll wake up and find yourself... lacking... in areas of usefulness to our host." She paused dramatically at the word "lacking", and Gabriel winced, shifting to stand with his legs a little closer together.
"Very violent kittens," he amended quickly, "With very sharp claws." Parker smirked evilly, never once taking her eyes off the game in front of her.
Introductions over, Gabriel started juggling his shrunken heads again. "There are others around here somewhere," he continued, doing a fancy under the arm and over the shoulder toss, "this is only the main room. There's also a kitchen and a couple of bathrooms, and there's a library through the door at your left there, as each of us came with our own supply of information and pop-culture references. We all have our own rooms, too. Or, well, most of us have our own rooms. Just hope to god yours isn't right next to John and Aeryn's," he finished.
"Are you kidding?" Aeryn asked in a lightly accented voice, giving a particularly viscous spin to one of her Foosball dowels. The action was followed closely by a hallow 'thunk' and a sigh of exasperation from Parker, while Aeryn herself smirked triumphantly and added another point to her side of the table before continuing, "We can hear you all the way in here on those nights you spend in Maren's room, and her room is on the other side of the house!"
Gabriel just grinned. "What can I say, I aim to please!"
"Yeah, right," Draco scoffed, all his attention still apparently directed at the screen in front of him, "If you're the one doing the pleasing, then how come we never hear her making any noise?" He pressed a sequence of buttons on his N-64 controller and his character - Bowser, or so it appeared from where Adam was standing - sent a red shell zooming toward Jarod's Luegi, sending the green-clad Italian into a spin and knocking the last balloon from the back of his cart. "Ha! Eat shell, you bloody bastard!"
"How are you doing this?!" Jarod exclaimed, dropping the controller and running his hands through his hair. "How are you beating me?! I'm a damn genius, for crying out loud!"
"And I'm an Evil Genius. It's all in the evil part," Draco answered.
"Yeah," said Harry, getting up from the couch to grab himself another soda, "And he also cheats."
"Humph. You're just jealous because you can never beat me at Scrabble, either. Up for another game, Jarod?"
Riiiight... This place just kept getting weirder and weirder. "Um... yeah. Would someone mind clueing me in?" Adam asked finally, "I mean, as cool as it is to meet you all, what are you doing in Maren's closet?"
"We're muses," John said, getting up from the couch, "Or, well, most of us are muses. Gabey-boy over there is pretty much just information fodder since Maren doesn't write in that fandom, though I imagine you've already guessed what other uses he has. Anyway, we're here to inspire, give voice to the characters Maren recreates - or creates," he amended hastily with a nod in Rose and Fey's direction, "in her writings. Aeryn's her Farscape muse, I'm her annoying VidMuse, Harry and Draco over there take care of the Harry Potter stories, and Jarod and Parker got the Pretender fandom."
At that moment, a tiny green alien came scampering between them from the hallway on the right, cackling evilly. A large silver wolf followed close on his heels, seeming hell-bent on murder where the little alien was concerned. 'C'mere, you little twerp! Try to set a mousetrap on my tail, will you? I swear, as soon as I get my paws on you, there won't be enough left of you to fill a thimble when I'm done!' Adam felt that he really should have been surprised at the voice speaking in his head, but he wasn't. He just watched as the two did a few laps around the room, knocking over the occasional chair or pile of books, before disappearing into the library.
"The wolf was Shadowmist, one of the characters in Maren's novel," John continued after a moment. "The little green guy is Clore. Watch out for him, hes rather fond of playing dirty tricks on anyone and everyone. We've all tried to 'accidentally' step on him, but the little bugger is fast."
"How the hell Shadowmist has managed to restrain herself from chomping the little dude until now is anyone's guess," said another man as he walked into the room from the doorway next to the TV. This time it was a tall African-American with braided dreadlocks, wearing shorts and a baggy t-shirt with the sleeves torn off and carrying a basketball. He was followed closely by another man, this time Caucasian, wearing a similar outfit, with shoulder length dark brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. The first man approached Adam, hand outstretched, which Adam accepted without hesitation. "Welcome to the Closet, my man. I'm Bruce, believer of all things Dead Zone, and this galactic mistake behind me is Marcus, 'Live for the one, die for the One' Ranger and source for all things Babylon 5."
"I prefer to think of myself as galactic entrepreneur, thankyouverymuch," Marcus answered in a prominent English accent. He also offered his hand to Adam, "How do you do."
Adam accepted his hand with a nod. "Are you guys muses too?"
Bruce shook his head. "Nah, we're just guys Maren likes having around and owning. I think she has some control issues."
"And I'm just a pretty boy she keeps around for comedic relief," Marcus added. "Oh, yeah, and the occasional lesson on how to use a staff. She rather likes to shatter things."
"Pretty-boy my ass! I'm way prettier then you are!" John argued.
"Ah, but you don't have the accent. I'm pretty and I have an accent. Best of both worlds!" Marcus shot back. "Now, however, this pretty boy needs water. And a shower. What you Yanks see in this bloody game called Basketball is beyond me." With that, he wandered off, singing, "I feel pretty, oh so pretty!"
Bruce just laughed. "He's just sore because white men still can't jump."
"I heard that!" came Marcus's disembodied voice from somewhere down the hall he just wandered down. Bruce just kept on laughing.
"Sooo," Adam said after a moment. He gestured at John and everyone else who were the muses. "You guys are here to inspire Maren in her writing." They nodded. "And you guys," he pointed at Bruce and Gabriel, "you guys are here for information and because she likes having you around. Well... where do I come in? I mean, as far as I know, she doesn't write in... What did you say I was from? Joan of Archadia? And I don't think I have any information that would be of use to her... So why am I here in the closet with all the rest of you?"
"I don't think you give yourself enough credit, man," Bruce answered, "I'm sure she stuck you in here for a reason."
"Oh, yeah..." Gabriel said with a wink before turning his attention back to his shrunken heads, "I'm sure she'll find some use for you."
"Okay," Adam said with a shrug. He paused for a moment then, contemplating his new station in life. Then he turned back to Gabriel and asked, "Are those things real?" indicating the shrunken heads he was currently tossing around.
"These? Nah," Gabriel answered, doing some more fancy juggling tosses. "These are just hacky sacks. The real ones have, like, zero aerodynamics and are sitting on a shelf in my room."