buggery | it's the time of year for creepy things to crawl out of your subconscious (Reply)

The process of moving files from the old stupid barely-functional computer to the newer stupid barely-functional computer continues apace at its snail's pace. I've found some interesting things, though.

Have a look at this transcript of a conversation Caroline

linabean Baker and I had around this time last year:

Lina: this is the song that made me want a horror story:
Lina: Did you hear the news about Edward?
On the back of his head he had another face
Was it a woman's face or a young girl?
They said to remove it would kill him
So poor Edward was doomed
Lina: The face could laugh and cry
It was his devil twin
And at night she spoke to him
Things heard only in hell
But they were impossible to separate
Chained together for life
Lina: Finally the bell tolled his doom
He took a suite of rooms
And hung himself and her from the balcony irons
Some still believe he was freed from her
But I knew her too well
I say she drove him to suicide
And took poor Edward to hell
Lina: so, you know, it *could* be metaphorical.
Jack: yeah, i can see the horror-ness there.
Lina: but I want a story where one of the guys might be a little bit possessed.
Lina: and it'd be all low-key and surreal.
Jack: mmm, possessed!lex
Lina: I was hoping one of my friends would write a boybandit story about it acutally. With Justin Timberlake.
Jack: he could be possessed by lionel, if lionel died
Jack: ew, sdb
Lina: but it'd work in other fandoms too.
Lina: dude, there are some really, really good stories in that fandom.
Jack: damnit. now i want a lionel's-ghost-possesses-lex story.
Jack: it could cause The Rift!
Lina: or Lionel could be possessed.
Lina: he could think it was Lillian.
Lina: and really it's a kryptomutant.
Lina: or, you know, maybe anyone who spends much time in the castle starts getting tinted with it.
Lina: it happens first to Lionel, but then Lex and Martha get weird too.
Jack: i will give the bunny to jenn. it's perfect for her, the boys can get all apocalyptic and estranged, and then at the end lex can get exorcised and they'll wind up together
Lina: okay, that's a good story for Jenn.
Jack: see?
Lina: and I want someone else to do the haunting at the castle.
Jack: i'll have to wait till she finishes human!clark
Lina: although the second bunny's starting to sound like the current Buffy plotline.
Jack: mild resemblance
Lina: I just kinda had an idea about Lex having dreams about a little sister.
Lina: and she keeps asking him to save her, and she starts convincing Lex that Lionel drowned her or something.
Lina: when she was a baby, like an unwanted kitten.
Jack: oh, cool
Jack: that'd be marvellously spooky
Lina: and then maybe convincing him that she's his mother.
Lina: I dunno, it'd be elliptical.
Jack: me likey.
Jack: you writey.
Lina: snicker.
Lina: I never have written horror. It could be fun.
Lina: no, actually, I wrote a very short thing in ninth grade, for a class assignment. It *was* fun.
Lina: we were studying Charles Dickens, and told that his nanny liked to drink her gin at night, so she'd tell him stories scary enough to ensure he'd stay in bed all night.
Lina: so we had to write a story that would keep a kid in bed.
Jack: i've written exactly one horror piece. it was for a magazine, and they wound up not buying it, so i decided i'd been right to think horror writing's not my thing.
Lina: hey, that's probably craziness.
Jack: perhaps.
Lina: selling stories is hard, I understand, and you've only written the one.
Jack: ::thinks:: i should dig it out and try it elsewhere.
Jack: selling stories can be hard, yes. i've done it with fantasy and sci-fi short stories, tho.
Lina: in my story, it was just a narrator addressing the reader as a kid who's in bed, and she tells the story about a little boy who woke up to get a glass of water.
Jack: and really, i'm not even a horror reader. so there's a good chance i'm just missing part of what horror fiction is supposed to have.
Jack: ::listening::
Lina: and the only suspense is in him getting up in the dark and walking down the hallway towards the grandfather clock.
Lina: I milked it, though [g]
Lina: and, of course, when he gets there, the nanny pops out with a knife. And her eyes are dangling from their sockets.
Jack: see, my horror-appreciator's broken or defective or something. i just don't appreciate that stuff.
Lina: and, see, the kid had kept calling out for nanny before this.
Lina: well, see, that part's hardly dwelled on.
Lina: it's just so the narrator can wrap up, "You know what's funny about that story? The nanny couldn't even see anymore, so if the little boy had just kept quiet, she never would have found him. ...Good night."
Jack: :mad cackling::
Jack: okay, now -that- i can appreciate
Lina: yeah. my teacher was a moron, though.
Lina: in her comments on the paper, for that part, she wrote, "And so..." like I was supposed to spell that part out.
Lina: and she circled all the sentence fragments. I was like, "Dude, it's a piece of fiction, written as if someone's telling it out loud."
Jack: i could see lionel telling wee!lex a story like that. only with greek-mythological or quasi-historical characters, of course
Lina: heh heh heh. That'd kick ass.
Lina: wee!Lex's eyes would be so big as Lionel switched off the lights.
Jack: write it. you're half-done already.
Lina: Lionel'd be an awesome story-teller, too.
Lina: well, if he got into it, anyway, instead of delivering it as a lecture.
Jack: he is a bit of a drama-queen, yeah
Jack: just a little
Lina: hee hee. I'm reading a review of a couple of albums, one of which contains the song that made me want to write the horror story.
Lina: "Those of you who first heard Tom Waits, as I did-- that is, over lasagna at the house of a junior-high teacher with a skin disease who was trying to seduce you-- will relish the albums' creepy love songs."
Jack: mmm, lasagna
Lina: snicker.
Lina: I also really want to make a vid of a song from the same album.
Jack: mmm, vids

There should definitely be fic like this. If not now, well, Halloween will come again next year.