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This bit of craziness is brought to you by the many oddball muses running amok in my head and not letting me study. *G* I always love reading [ profile] celli's conversations with her characters, and my guys decided they wanted in on the action.

What with being Obscure Fandom Girl and all, you probably have no clue who some of these characters are -- and as I'm a big ol' fandom ho-bag who loves to convert all and sundry into my fandoms, here be some helpful explanatory links for ye:

**Frances Malone, Jack of all Trades, Nick Cooper, and Sharon Lesher are all characters from the show "Profiler," my personal perpetual fandom and the one that's provided me with the greatest number of muses to torment endlessly be inspired by.

**Lilly Kane is the busiest dead girl you'll ever find on "Veronica Mars" and the main plot point of Season One.

**Frank Sobotka and Stringer Bell are from the amazing Baltimore-based HBO series "The Wire," which has a fanbase of about 10 people despite its being the best show on TV.

**If you don't know who Anakin Skywalker, Palpatine, or Sirius Black are by now...dude, is there air-conditioning in your cave??

Conversations with Fictional Folks, part the First: The Dead Men's Day-Spa )
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Hmm, this was supposed to be a collection of fic snippets and trial runs, wasn't it? *sigh*

I seem to be continuing my happy theme of "mmm, that idea/plot/pairing would be fun...oh crap, I'd have to actually put it into words though, wouldn't I, and -- ooh! What's this yummy new idea/plot/pairing?" When it comes to consistency of motivation, the slightest dangling of the eensiest new and shiny plotbunnythingie seems to get me terminally distracted from putting Slot A into Tab B.

...and the sexual innuendo from that last sentence gives a good indication that I've been reading a lot more smutfic than I've been writing. *G*

Thanks and Cheetos to all the kind souls who are feeding-back on A Little Like Insane at the VCTF Message Board! I actually like how this fic is turning out, and I really want to finish it. Now if anyone can figure out a way to get the characters to settle down and take directions from me long enough so I can finish the stupid thing, I'd appreciate it muchly. I've cajoled, wheedled, threatened and whined, but they're otherwise occupied and not playing well with me at all. Essentially, the Fanfic Characters' Office Christmas Party from Hell in my head has been going on for far too long and it doesn't seem to be winding down any time soon:

*Loud Christmas-themed retro-Polynesian swing music blasts from the speakers over the makeshift Tiki Lounge bar set up just to the right of Robin's auditory cortex. Jack of All Trades is behind said bar, wearing an obnoxiously bright Hawaiian shirt with Bermuda shorts and puka beads, smoking a cigarette and mixing Mai Tais for the masses. Frances Malone and Samantha Waters are sitting at the bar tapping their toes to the tunes and playing with the little paper umbrellas scattered over the bar's surface.*

Robin (comes up to the bar with an ice bag on her head): Holy hell, the noise, the noise! C'mon, guys, aren't you ready to get back to work yet? Enough is enough. Hey Jack, I have two chapters to go -- you have to help me decide if you're going to kill Frances or just have a night of hot guilty sex with her and then scare her straight. What'll it be?

Jack: Pfft, hot and guilty, right. You know you want it to be almost-sex that stops right before we get to the good stuff. *affects a squeaky sarcastic imitation of Robin's voice* "It'll be better for the angst that way. Gotta up the angst! Angst angst angst angst --"

Robin: Hey!

Frances: We used to have sex in these fics. Even if it was angsty sex, it was still sex.

Samantha: Garble globble bibble goo.

*Jack and Frances stop their tirade and stare at Samantha.*

Frances: What the fuck was that?

Jack: Samantha, as honorary bartender I'm cutting you off. Unless you want to have sex with me, in which case -- Mai Tais for everyone!

Robin: Gah, no, it's not the Mai Tais, it's just what she does around me these days. I have 200k+ of that "Otis" fic kicking around in my Docs file -- which I'd really like to work on -- but I need her to speak to me. Which she hasn't done for ages in any meaningful interesting way whatsoever. She just sits there and stares at me and then she does...that thing.

Samantha (defensively): Oog blooble blug!!

Robin: Yeah, same to you, blondie. *snags a Mai Tai and leans on the bar beside Jack* This sucks. I have plots, dammit! I've actually planned stuff out! You're ingrates, that's what you are.

Marcus Peyton: We need more ice, baby! *comes up to the bar and dumps an empty ice bucket beside Jack*

Robin: Hey, Marcus! Remember me? I'm the one who was finally going to write about you. You have one of the prime roles in that "Frannie the Vampire Slayer" crossover I was planning, remember? So how about forgetting the ice and getting back to work? We need to plan out a Big Bad....

Marcus: Pfft, yeah, Marcus the Watcher, whatever. It's not like I'd get to have sex in the fic anyway.

Robin: Gods, how sex-obsessed are you people? Don't you care about plot? How about the thrill of carefully planning chapter after chapter and executing the details? How about the satisfaction of seeing how nicely you've researched a role and created a character that fills the role? What about --

Laura Polanski (grabs the blender from Jack and sniffs at the contents): Blah blah intellectual fic, blah blah Big Important Purpose. Booooooring. Oooh, Mai Tais!

Robin: Oh, that's so not fair! I've spent the most time with you lately too!

Jack: Who are you?

Laura: Laura Polanski, field op for the Ministry of Magic, Muggle Defense Division, New Jersey field office. *looks at Robin* You know, that's a freaking mouthful -- I hope you don't expect me to spout that off every other paragraph.

Frances: Ministry of Magic?

Jack: New Jersey field office?

Laura(rolls eyes): Yeah, Ministry of Magic as in Harry Potter. Muggle Defense Division as in the few, the proud, those muggles who help kick Death Eater ass. And New Jersey as in, it makes no sense when the rest of the fandom is writing about things across the Atlantic, but I happen to be stationed here because someone has been fixating way too much on "The Sopranos" lately.

*She glares at Robin who coughs and looks away, blushing.*

Jack (to Robin): Oh. My. God. Are you out of your mind? You created a Harry Potter fandom Jersey Sue? I thought you hated OC's in fics on general principle.

Frances (turns to Laura): Don't tell me -- you're going to sleep with Snape, aren't you? Or Lucius. Or Voldemort or Draco or a Random Slytherin or someone, because she'll let you have sex scenes, won't she?

Jack: Wait -- you have sex scenes? Do you need a stalker for the sex scenes? I can do a Jersey voice....

Laura (smiles and nods nervously while moving slowly toward the exit, never breaking eye contact): Heh. OK then, it's been fun, gotta go now...

Robin: No no nononono, I'm writing her because I want to prove that I can do an OC who's not a Jers -- erm, Mary Sue. She's a cop, guys! She's fixated on the case she's given and she despises that she has orders from above to help protect a Death Eater from getting killed.

Frances: Yeah, she despises it right up until the sex, right?

Laura: Hey! You promised I'd be a nice fluff-less character with no sex. I am not having sex with Malfoy! I'd rather do it with a post-decapitation Ralph Cifaretto, ferchrissakes.

Frances: Eww! Bad image.

Jack: Hmm...creative.

Robin: I swear, nowhere in the plot do you engage in hot sex, guilty sex, or any kind of sex with Lucius Malfoy. How about if I guarantee that he gets shot? Flesh wound only, you understand, but if it gets you cooperating again I can be flexible --

Laura: Pfft, flesh wound....

Frances(sotto voce to Jack): Flesh wound leads to cutting off clothes to expose the wound...leads to nakedness...leads to doing the nasty on top of the bandages. Our fandom sucks!

Lucius Malfoy(entering the bar wearing a loud parrot-print shirt, shorts and flip-flops and carrying a surfboard): Sexless Flesh Wound? I seem to recall a punk band from my youth with a similar name. Or was it Fleshless Sex Wound? -- ooh, Mai Tais!

Robin: Screw you guys, I'm going back to my day job.

Samantha: Gibble!


So...fics...hopefully in this lifetime, eventually. Maybe. A girl can dream? *G*


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