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psalm_onethirtyone*flops pathetically*
Am working on my Jules Verne geekslash. It's fun, except that it was working very well as a study of post-book (Stephen) Fix, who has shown up rather consistently in my Eighty Days Vernework (Constant is Change; Time Inn [actually an LXG fic]), explaining a little more about his transformation from book!Fix, but--
It's rather difficult to throw Conseil into the mix, especially post-book Conseil. For one thing, he's very post book--a little more than six years, I think--and for another thing, considering the way Fix is behaving just at present (i.e. living in a seedy part of Paris to pursue his beautiful emo existence), it's hard to figure out just exactly how the two of them are going to meet. I mean, really. Who else besides me can't somehow see Conseil making an unscheduled trip downtown for absolutely no reason, just so that he can coincidentally bump into the torn and tattered remnants of Fix's broken soul? Quite right.
On the other hand, I really do like what I've written so far.
Most of the regulars do know him. If you sit on one grey street corner long enough, begging the same heartless gentry for the same desperately-needed pennies, watching the same barefoot, threadbare people wander by you, the same carriages roll past, the same grey skies grow light, grow dark, you recognise faces after a while. You know who's due by to-day, who'll come Monday.
Not all of them can do that, of course. Some of them are too far gone, and all the faces look the same. Nobody ever gives them anything, and they spit on everyone. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter.
Stephen has been spat on before. Once it made him angry. Now he just goes on. It doesn't matter. The regulars know him. They call out his name, pronouncing it with a soft French accent made harsh from living on nothing. They make his name grey, although it used to be green. Stephen was always a green name. His mother made it green; his friends at Oxford; the girl he was going to marry: Stephen was always a green name. Here in Paris, it's grey, and Stephen doesn't care.
The regulars hate him one day and love him the next. He has been struck, he has been kissed. Sometimes someone pulls him into a corner and shares a bit of bread. It's a grey spiderweb, and it's hard to tell which strands are safe and which ones trap. Stephen never looks where he's putting his feet; he only walks and finds out and is never surprised.
Yes. I just need to find a plausible way--
Damn you, my dear detective. I can't think of any way to uproot you and get you the hell out of your seedy little district, either, because you just don't care. Gah. And I can't work on my other Important Project until you're done, either. Do you mind making an effort?
Fix: *blank stare* Effort?
Yes! You know, helping things along?
Fix: Things?
Like your faith-affirming, life-rebuilding love affair with a sweet Flemish manservant, yes.
Fix: My what? *clutches at Passepartout* O_O
*wibbles* For me?
Fix: *Passepartout!* O_O
...Oh, for-- *sulks and gets back to work*
Am working on my Jules Verne geekslash. It's fun, except that it was working very well as a study of post-book (Stephen) Fix, who has shown up rather consistently in my Eighty Days Vernework (Constant is Change; Time Inn [actually an LXG fic]), explaining a little more about his transformation from book!Fix, but--
It's rather difficult to throw Conseil into the mix, especially post-book Conseil. For one thing, he's very post book--a little more than six years, I think--and for another thing, considering the way Fix is behaving just at present (i.e. living in a seedy part of Paris to pursue his beautiful emo existence), it's hard to figure out just exactly how the two of them are going to meet. I mean, really. Who else besides me can't somehow see Conseil making an unscheduled trip downtown for absolutely no reason, just so that he can coincidentally bump into the torn and tattered remnants of Fix's broken soul? Quite right.
On the other hand, I really do like what I've written so far.
Most of the regulars do know him. If you sit on one grey street corner long enough, begging the same heartless gentry for the same desperately-needed pennies, watching the same barefoot, threadbare people wander by you, the same carriages roll past, the same grey skies grow light, grow dark, you recognise faces after a while. You know who's due by to-day, who'll come Monday.
Not all of them can do that, of course. Some of them are too far gone, and all the faces look the same. Nobody ever gives them anything, and they spit on everyone. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter.
Stephen has been spat on before. Once it made him angry. Now he just goes on. It doesn't matter. The regulars know him. They call out his name, pronouncing it with a soft French accent made harsh from living on nothing. They make his name grey, although it used to be green. Stephen was always a green name. His mother made it green; his friends at Oxford; the girl he was going to marry: Stephen was always a green name. Here in Paris, it's grey, and Stephen doesn't care.
The regulars hate him one day and love him the next. He has been struck, he has been kissed. Sometimes someone pulls him into a corner and shares a bit of bread. It's a grey spiderweb, and it's hard to tell which strands are safe and which ones trap. Stephen never looks where he's putting his feet; he only walks and finds out and is never surprised.
Yes. I just need to find a plausible way--
Damn you, my dear detective. I can't think of any way to uproot you and get you the hell out of your seedy little district, either, because you just don't care. Gah. And I can't work on my other Important Project until you're done, either. Do you mind making an effort?
Fix: *blank stare* Effort?
Yes! You know, helping things along?
Fix: Things?
Like your faith-affirming, life-rebuilding love affair with a sweet Flemish manservant, yes.
Fix: My what? *clutches at Passepartout* O_O
*wibbles* For me?
Fix: *Passepartout!* O_O
...Oh, for-- *sulks and gets back to work*
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(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-14 03:52 pm (UTC)"...But I don't even believe in otps."
"I DO!"
...Yeah, sure, whatever. *pats them* (I have this trouble with Gimli, sometimes. Luckily, he's usually willing to cling to Legolas as well as his lovely bright lady. Either's good. Especially since she's happily married.)
Let's see... How to get Conseil downtown... Well, all kinds of interesting things turn up in slightly seedy dockside districts, and I bet you A. wouldn't stop to think if he heard about some interesting deep sea fish... And of course Conseil would never let him wander in to that part of town alone. But then you have the trouble of A., and anyway I don't know how well that works with your story.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-14 04:11 pm (UTC)^_^ (*melted* Marriage such an inconvenience sometimes.)
! That would have been a good idea. For the moment, I have a makeshift that may or may not stay. It's managing decently.
The other, more dramatic problem is that Conseil isn't exactly the falling-in-love type. I remember how horribly difficult it was to write Desciens Abulare Denuo.
Ned Land: *passionate stance* Conseil! I love you!
Conseil: *smiles* Oh, that's nice.
:D
Thank you very much. *loveson*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-14 04:21 pm (UTC)(*giggles* Isn't it just? But her househusband is just the cutest thing, of course, so I don't mind.)
Oh, good. *hugs*
Yeeeeesss... *giggles* He's so cute.
You're very welcome! *snuggles*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-14 04:35 pm (UTC)*snugglesback*
Oh, speaking of Conseil and cute--this is killing me (http://www.livejournal.com/community/desperatefans/269825.html?thread=9303553#t9303553).
(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-14 05:02 pm (UTC)*ruffles*
...*giggles like mad* Oh, and now A. is simply dying of embarrassment. :D
(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-14 05:07 pm (UTC)*giggles and pets him* They are embarrassing. But so cute. *pities A. not at all*
On the other hand, somebody does need to explain to Conseil about N. and A. at some point. *g*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-14 05:17 pm (UTC)*laughs* Oh, yes. Knowing him, he'll probably take it completely in stride, but...
(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-14 05:22 pm (UTC)Of course, of course. Nonetheless. ^_^