Okay, so this is what happens when you try to ground things in the Silmarillion in reality, and I really should have stopped myself from trying to apply reality to the tale of Beren and Luthien, but here it is anyway.

The Silm is hardly grounded in solid facts at the best of times, but this was bugging me )
I finally posted it, Lise! Hope you've finished the college essays of doom by now.

This is all [livejournal.com profile] metafandom 's fault. No, really.

SOMEONE ON METAFANDOM: *calls Tolkien-style Elves "prissy"*
[livejournal.com profile] minviendha: *makes a post expressing extreme confusion about how any Tolkien elf could be prissy*
EL: Certain Feanorians think Fingon is prissy. Fingon is just trying to salvage what's left of our family's good name, unlike some people who seem to revel in sinking it even further into the mud. He's not unlike GUC!Edward in that respect, albeit with less obsession about cleaning products.

And it all went downhill from there.


Title: Growing Up Finwean
Fandom: The Silmarillion (or our version of it, anyway. Warning: vast amounts of fanon ahead.)
Rating: R for Celegorm swearing and Caranthir's questionable taste in music.
Pairings: background Aredhel/Celegorm
Characters: Fingon-centric + Maedhros, Galadriel, Aredhel, Celegorm, Caranthir
Word count: ~2800
AN: Modern AU based, of course, on the amazing, the spectacular Growing Up Cullen, and you should read that first because a) it is hilarious and the best thing to come out of the Twilight fandom, and b) you may not understand much of what is going on here unless you know the source material. Regarding the names: completely my fanon, but I'm going on the idea that Fingon addresses people he likes by their Quenya names, and those he doesn't like so much by their Sindarin versions. So this is why there is Maitimo and Caranthir in the same fic.
Summary: Vague threats of violence, cleaning bathrooms, conversations about insects, cleaning, tea with a stressed step-cousin, more cleaning, and interrupted bedtime reading. It's a typical day in Fingon's life.

---

Growing Up Finwean )
For [livejournal.com profile] minviendha , for helping me begin this madness and because writing college application essays is an evil that I hope never to encounter personally.

Fingon and Caranthir have always had these sorts of fights; co-modding a fandom community website just gave them a more convenient place for it. )
Arrrrrrrrgh tired. Did not remember how exhausting the first day back at uni is, probably my brain deleted the memories so I would keep coming back. Also my hotmail is being stupid and shoving perfectly legit comment emails into the junk mail folder, if I haven't replied to something you said it is not your doing.

Silly idea at dinner tonight: muppets doing Shakespeare. Miss Piggy doing any female role would be hilarious (Juliet, Ophelia, Titania, LADY MACBETH OMG) and Swedish Chef could do Titus Andronicus. Except I don't think they did shakespeare. Well there's this, and it's wonderful but not quite what I was aiming for:



Since it is finally december I feel justified in breaking out my absolute favourite christmas icon, although since my Discworld icon is from Hogfather I guess I have a christmas-themed icon all year round. But I am not a major retail company so I am not low enough to start putting up red and green in october, for chrissakes. I think it would be almost alright for Australia to have a major holiday in November just so there would be a buffer between the last holiday, which is Fathers Day I think, and Christmas. Even though I hate turkey, because really.

< / scrooge >

To be honest I am going a bit stir-crazy despite not being imprisoned in any way shape or form, I think it is because my brain has lots of little fic ideas but none of them are clear right now. It like my head is a pot full of water that is on a stove, and there are bubbles at the bottom of the pot but they're not making it to the surface yet, or possibly ever. (I really hope it's not ever.) So right now I am not a happy pot, not at all. Is anyone else having a problem like this? We can team up as Pot and Kettle and fight crime make each other write!

Also I woke up yesterday and thought it was a good idea to ship Celebrimbor/Finduilas, [livejournal.com profile] minviendha what have you done to me



Also I have been trying to sort through my photos from geology fun tiems, it looks something like this: )
Um. *shuffles feet* *points incriminating finger* Read this fanficrants post! It's all their fault!

Title: The Brainmarillion: Brainulindale
Rating: Z for zombies
Disclaimer: All characters, places and plots are Tolkien's, I merely mangle - although if he rises from the grave to feast on my flesh in revenge for this, that just proves it all, doesn't it?

There was Arghru, the One, who in Arghda is called Iluvatargh... )
The bit in italics is a direct quote from Ainulindale. More coming soon...
Hey guys, you remember that mad Top Gear/Transformers bunny of mine? Trojie's planned it out!

THREE CHEERS FOR TROJIE! HIPPIP! HUZZAH! HIPPIP! HUZZAH! HIPPIP! HUZZAH!

:D
I've started writing poems in Latin. I think this is generally known as the point of no return, "abandon hope all ye who enter here"* territory. Thanks to the Perseus Tufts website, I give you a poem written in Latin with a vaguely haiku format. It's all about the multiculturalism, really.

(And now we have poem mark II, hopefully now sans mistakes and now that I've had time to poke at it. Meaning is still the same, I think.)

Bellum adgreditur:
Milites pergunt, sacerdes precorantur,
Et ancillae in tenebris contremiscunt.


War approaches:
The soldiers march, the priests intone,
And the slave-girls quiver in the shadows.


All feedback on the Latin will be welcomed with open arms. I'm still not entirely certain about the third declension.


*If you have already abandoned hope, please disregard this notice.

---

In other news, I finished reading Master and Commander today! And I have Post Captain waiting for me! Huzzah, huzzah, huzzah! Drinks all around!

It occurred to me, watching Top Gear last night, that possibly the best crossover in existence would be a Top Gear/Transformers fic. Think about it - James gets kidnapped by Decepticons although he doesn't know it at the time, and slowly drives them crazy by being Captain Slow, and they can't afford to break cover and squish him. Some poor rookie Autobot gets stuck with Jeremy, and obligingly transforms into car after car as Jeremy names them and dismisses them as not being the right car. Richard's car Oliver turns out to be an undercover Autobot. And the Stig turns up at the end and saves the day without ever speaking a word or removing his helmet, and neither the humans nor the robots ever find out anything about him. As do we all.

I'd read it.

In other news, I rickrolled myself this evening. I think it was a last desperate attempt by my brain to atrophy and get out of doing the looming Latin test tomorrow morning - which I should be studying for right now, so adios, amigos.



I have wrought two conflicting canon points about Celeborn into a mostly seamless if you don't look very hard timeline!

I should give credit where credit's due: this was all due to one of [livejournal.com profile] coppertone 's posts, in which we got around to comparing cracky Silm OTPs (she ships Caranthir/Angrod). And I mentioned that I liked the idea of Celeborn/Luthien.

Yes, I did say Celeborn/Luthien. Don't go away, please, I can explain it all.

What we know about Celeborn: he's a Sinda. He pwns. He's married to Galadriel. He lives in Lothlorien. He's a prince of the Nandor who's lived on the eastern side of the Misty Mountains since the dawn of time.

No, wait, he used to live in Doriath, and he's the grandson of Thingol's brother Elmo (YES I KNOW XD), and he went east with Galadriel.

So here we have two majorly conflicting character backstories about an important canon character. In the Silmarillion, he's in Doriath, and in LOTR he's a Nandor Elf in Lothlorien and always has been. (Second Age is more complicated, but boils down to Not Letting Annatar Into Lothlorien (And Celebrimbor, Stop Hitting On My Wife Or I Cut You).) The fact that we're not sure when Galadriel went east either doesn't help things, but here's my story of Celeborn:

Once upon a time, Celeborn was sweet on Luthien. You know how it goes: they're young and carefree, it's the Age of the Stars with nary an orc in sight across all of Doriath, Thingol and Melian aren't keeping a very strict watch on their daughter. There's probably a lot of dancing under starlight involved. Celeborn writes very bad poems, Luthien turns them into Disney-esque songs.

And then Thingol finds out. (Probably tipped off by Daeron, showing that old habits die hard and that Luthien really needs to learn not to trust everyone she meets.) Melian's all 'o_0... is this how all Elven romances work?'; Elmo's feelings are unknown because we don't know where he is, and Thingol's ready to chop Celeborn into tiny pieces and set fire to them for daring to recite really, really awful love poems to his precious daughter.

And then Luthien intervenes, bats her eyelashes at her father and calms him down. Celeborn gets exiled from Doriath and spends the next two ages hunting orcs with the what-will-be Lothlorien Elves, his youthful love affair gradually fading to a distant memory. Luthien goes back to the woods and dances, but now she's dancing alone under the stars, just waiting for another partner. Eventually Beren* wanders in and the whole fiasco happens again, proving that nobody in Doriath learns from their experiences...

Thingol: Cousins, psychotic minstrels, and now a mortal. She must have been off dancing when the ability to pick a good husband was being handed out.

...and they go off to get the Silmaril &etc.

The First Age ends, Doriath is destroyed, Galadriel passes over the Ered Luin, and Celeborn lets the past go and they become the most awesome couple in Arda.**

That's my version of the events, anyway. (NB: this is what happens when I don't have enough things to think about.)

---

*And I can imagine Celeborn getting so freaked out about THAT. He'd be all 'wtf, Thingol lets his daughter marry a grubby mortal but not me?' and probably goes to Valinor just to yell at him.

GHOST OF BEREN (WHO HAS BEEN SUMMONED BY GALADRIEL'S TRIAL RUN OF THE MIRROR*** OR SOMETHING, FUCK, I DON'T KNOW): At least my children didn't end up with three eyes.

CELEBORN: Yeah, but yours had a beard. That's worse.

**Don't ask me to explain the other story about Celeborn being a Teleri and Olwe's grandson. That's just the same problem with a different woman. And C&G are second cousins in the published Silm, so it's not that much of an improvement...

***Which deserves its own post, because suddenly there's a magic mirror, presto, and nobody knows where it came from! (I guess it is magic. Magic A is Magic A.)
1. Indiana Jones/The Mummy crossover. I have no idea what would actually happen, but it would definitely involve the phrase 'pokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster pistol at your side'.

2. What I guess would be called an Indiana Jones prequel, ie. Henry and Brodie's adventures when they were young'uns. Flash-forwards to when they are old and have taken up fly-fishing and are remembering the good ol' days optional.

3. Supernatural/Twilight¹ crossover. I'm sure I don't need to explain.

4. Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Twilight² crossover. Once again, self-explanatory.

----
¹With only one slight issue, namely: I have not seen/read either canons.

²Which is facing the same problem as mad plotbunny #3.
Nyar. This seems to be cracked-out dream week, except this was much longer than the baby bat one, and much stranger.

So there I was, dressed up as a noble (not sure what time it was, 18th century maybe? It was an era that involved corsets and amazing hats.) There were lots of other nobles, we were all talking, and there was a feast. And our feast table was long. I mean, looooooooong. I couldn't see either end of it, and it was sort of on a slope, and I was near one end. Strange enough for you?

Then, it turned out that we were on the Sydney Harbour Bridge. The table turned into a rollercoaster, and I must have changed clothes because I was wearing something I could run in. But anyway, we went up one side of the bridge and I saw a friend that I haven't seen for about a year. She looked the same except that her hair was pink, and then Tennant!Doctor appeared.

And he was completely clothed, unfortunately, although his tie was unloosened and the top button of his shirt was undone. Even in my dreams, I am a complete prude.

Anyway, he asked me if I had any problems. I told him that I was lonely, and that I had no idea what I wanted to do in life, which scared me. (For the record, the first part is only true some of the time, and the second is not really. Sometimes I have no idea what I want to do, but it doesn't bother me that much.) Then the dream turned into a Doctor-Whoish sort of adventure. The TARDIS must have been involved somewhere, because I ended up, sans Doctor and TARDIS, in a place that I knew somehow was Australia millions of years into the future. The place was called Buka because it was originally Buchan (a town in the country that is not currently near the sea, but was a shallow marine environment in the prehistoric era. Lots of trilobites in Buchan.)

Buchan was on the coast because the sea levels had risen, and from there to the coast of the US there was nothing but a few scattered islands. In the dream, someone said that in a way that was all poetic and beautiful, but I can't remember it. The person who said it was someone Not Good, since I think they'd taken me captive. They were like the Family of Blood, I think. Still no sign of the Doctor, damn him.

Then we went through a jungle, and it turned out that the parts of Australia that weren't underwater were desert, completely dry. There were no cities or people that I could see, but there were plesiosaurs in the water, and damn, some of them had large teeth.

And then it got even stranger, if possible. See, I turned into this creature that had evolved, but it was the weirdest thing ever. Picture the tradition sheet-with-eye-holes ghost costume. It was like that, except it was covered in long fur, and it could fly. I remember in the dream I thought it was quite like the monster in Star Trek that drained a person's salt. (Found a link!) Does anyone else remember that episode? It was the old-school version. Anyway, it was something like that, but it could fly. And I flew.

I have to say that this dream-flying was not terribly interesting. The evil person/alien/thing said that it was like a horse of the sky, except it was also like a cat for some reason, and that they evolved during the reign of the Emperor. WTF? What emperor?

And then I woke up.

So, in conclusion: I'm missing Who like crazy, to the point that I dream up episodes, but I don't know how this one ended. Still, it was the longest dream that I've had for a while, and I'm surprised that I remembered all of it. My mind goes in weird places. 

"Turn on your mind... with SEXY STATISTICS! Our long ranges can make you go up to three standard deviations away from the mean, and there's nothing normal about our curves! Whether your tastes run to experiments or observational studies, we've got a huge distribution! There's a reason that Statistics is so close to Sadistic - our double-blind, double-dummy experiments will help you get to maximum value. You'll have no trouble standardising your z-scores with our beautiful models on hand! All services and stock come with a 95% confidence interval. SEXY STATISTICS - we put the X in S2 = ∑(xi – x)2/n – 1!"

Look, brain, I fully understand you equating the Marauders with The Beatles. It's clear for all to see. Lily would probably be someone like Janis Joplin, and I can see that too.

What worries me, however, is that by this logic, Snape should be Elvis.
You know what I realised while I was getting dressed today? I put on odd socks, and I'm okay with that. I see no reason for my footwear to be brutally regimented. Odd shoes, that's another thing. But odd socks are all right, and besides, these two are orphans. However, I then realised that they are heterogeneous socks, unlike the rest of the sock population. And you know what that means.

Yes, it means that you, all of you, are wearing gay socks.

Take that, homophobes. Just be careful, because the next time you act like a dick, remember that you have two gay socks on, ready to eat your feet should they be provoked. Hah!

Having had my epiphany of the day, I went off to uni. (And I remembered to put the rest of my clothes on, before you ask.)

-----------

My brain is also having tremendous fun with post-DH bits of crack.

*sigh* Bodies can be so overdramatic sometimes.

EL: *picks up a stack of plates that have just come out of the dishwasher* Hmm, that's quite warm.

EL'S BRAIN: ARGH OH SWEET JESUS MOTHER OF PENGUINS IT BURNINAAAATES US!!!!!!!!

EL'S FINGERS: We agree.

EL: No, I really think that-

BRAIN and FINGERS: MAJORITY VOTE! You are putting the plates down! Right now!

EL: Bloody majority-ruled democracy. I hate the Athenians. *stomps off*

[End scene.]

--------------------

Thoughts on Deathly Hallows come later, when I can say something more coherent that 'ZOMG', 'SQUEE' and 'Oh man, fandom's really going to go batshit over that...'

In the meantime, I offer related humour:

The Top Ten Words That Should End Harry Potter 7

Top Ten Least Likely Endings to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

A parody of the movie Order of the Phoenix - I laughed so hard that I scared the cats. Maybe I was high from finishing DH, but still.

50lyrics!

Jan. 18th, 2006 10:09 am
I joined [livejournal.com profile] 50lyricsfanfic yesterday. The challenge: to write fifty fics, each one based on/inspired by a snippet of a song. (NOT a songfic challenge! I swear I won't sink that low, not without the aid of illegal substances, at least.)

I'm very much out of practice with writing, but this should hopefully get me into gear again. I bagsied the general series in Tolkien-verse (ie. LOTR/The Silmarillion/The Hobbit) so I've got a lot of room to manoeuvre. *bounces*

--------

Afterthought I: Oh Eru. Fifty fics in my final year of school AND the IB with a lovely thirteen-week in the middle. I'll just quitely go insane in a corner. *gibbers*

Afterthought II: I needed dictionary.com twice for this post to check 'manoeuvre' and 'exhilarated'. *wails* What's happened to my spelling?

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May 2012

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