Because someone told me to...
24 Mar 2011 02:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thisbluespiritFollowing on from the last post, I mentioned I'd put Avon and Servalan in the generator and laughed myself silly. Because there is nothing so weird that seems unlikely for that pairing, anyway, so I just had to keep refreshing the page with the same input... And ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ravenskyewalker wanted to see the results.
Luckily, I'd saved them. (They were too ridiculous not to.)
ETA:persiflage_1 says this post should come with a no drinking (and probably no eating) warning. She is usually right, and I had trouble myself with the results and a glass of water...
(I should explain that I put white and black in, thinking of Servalan's colour-code in dresses, so any weirdness on that front is my fault. Also the slapping.)
A Leather Day To Slap
Servalan stepped quietly out into the grey sunshine, and admired Avon's foot. "Ah," she sighed, "That's a white sight." [Yes, Avon's never been much for sun-bathing.]
Avon climbed off the spaceship and walked snarkily across the grass to greet his lover. Servalan patted Avon on the face and then tried to slap him expertly, but without success.
"That's all right," Avon said. "We can try again later."
"I'm just not evil," Servalan. "Not as evil as the time we slapped on a space station."
Avon nodded sneakily. "We were black back in those days."
"Our shoulders were younger, and we had a lot more fun with them," Servalan said. "Everything seems outrageous and bleak when you're young." [This is not a bad description of B7. I tell you, Orac is running the internet.]
"Of course," Avon said. "But now we're sarcastic, we can still have fun.* If we go about it loudly." [*Also not a bad description of B7.]
"Loudly?" Servalan said . "But how?"
"With this," Avon said and held out an underhand apple. "Just take that with some water and in half an hour, you'll be ready to slap."
Servalan swallowed the apple at once and sure enough, in half an hour, they were able to slap loudly. They slapped like a reptile slithering through long grass. Three times.
And then the neighbour told them to get off his lawn. [If Avon and Servalan were slapping each other on my lawn, I would have called the police way before this.]
***
I'm Dreaming Of A Black Christmas [It all got very festive from this point on.]
It was Christmas Eve. Servalan sat loudly on a space station, sipping outrageous eggnog. [Well, no one ever drinks anything normal in B7, especially not Servalan, so it would be.]
She looked at the sarcastic spaceship hanging on the Christmas Tree and sighed. Last year, Avon had hung it there, just before they looked at each other snarkily and then fell into each other's arms and slapped each other's shoulder. [Hmm. This is beginning to sound worryingly like folk-dancing, which is probably a step too far even for these two.]
If only I hadn't been so grey, Servalan thought, pouring a evil amount of rum into her eggnog. Then Avon might not have got so bleak and left me all alone at Christmas time. She wiped away a leather tear and held her foot in her hand. [!!??!!]
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and then a white voice lifted expertly up in song.
I'm dreaming of a black Christmas
Just like a reptile slithering through long grass
Servalan ran to the door. It was Avon, looking underhand all over with snow. [And singing. !!!?]
"I missed you quietly," Avon said. "And I wanted to slap your shoulder again."
Servalan hugged Avon and started to sob.
"I think you're drunk," Avon said. [That would explain a lot.]
"I think so too," Servalan said and they slapped each other's shoulder until they knocked the Christmas tree over.
On Christmas Day, they ate roasted snake face and lived sneakily until Servalan got drunk again. [This sounds like how Jacqueline Pearce would have ended B7...]
***
The Miracle Of The Snake
Servalan hated Christmas. She didn't just dislike Christmas, she hated it like a reptile slithering through long grass. She loathed it. [Well, duh. Although you would think she would like getting presents and going to parties.]
Every December, Servalan would feel herself getting all black inside. She refused to put up a Christmas apple, she snapped at anyone outrageous enough to sing a carol in her vicinity, and she never, ever bought anybody any presents. [Again, d'uh.]
On December 13, Servalan had to go to the mall to buy a bleak spaceship. When she got there, there were so many shoppers pushing snarkily around and so much Christmas music blaring loudly, she thought her foot would explode.
Finally, she was done. Just outside the door was a sarcastic man collecting for charity. Servalan never gave to charity, so she started to walk past without a word. [Absolutely. The miracle is what Avon is doing collecting for charity. Must be a cover.]
Suddenly, the sarcastic man dropped his bells and ran on a space station. There was a white snake right in the path of an oncoming truck. But the sarcastic man slipped and fell, so now they were both in danger!
Servalan rushed out and sneakily pushed them both out of the way. There was a leather bang and then everything went dark.
When Servalan woke up, she was in an underhand room. There was a Christmas apple in the corner and soft carols were playing. Also, Servalan's face hurt. A lot.
The sarcastic man came into the room. "I'm so grey!" he said. "You're awake. My name is Avon. You saved me from the truck. But your face is broken."
Servalan hardly knew what to say. Even though there was a Christmas apple up and her face was broken, she felt quite evil, especially when she looked at Avon. [Mmm-hmm. She would.]
"Your face must hurt quietly," Avon said. "I think this will help." And he slapped Servalan several times. [Ah, he's in one of his sadistic moods, then?]
Now Servalan felt very evil indeed. She didn't hate Christmas at all now. In fact, she loved it. And she loved Avon. "I love you," she said, and kissed Avon expertly. [She has had practise, this is true. More than most people in B7.]
"I love you too," said Avon. Just then, the snake ran into the room and nuzzled Servalan's shoulder. "I brought him home with us," Avon said.
"We'll call him Miracle," Servalan said. "Our Christmas Miracle." [Too right it's a miracle. A snake that can run into a room?]
It was the best Christmas ever. [By this point, I was a bit incoherent.]
***
To Snarkily Slap
Servalan and Avon were celebrating an outrageous Valentine's Day together. Servalan had cooked an underhand dinner and they ate on a space station by candlelight. [One wonders what was underhand about the dinner. The manner of obtaining it, or had she poisoned it?]
"My darling," Avon said, stroking Servalan's face, "I have something for you." He gave a box to Servalan. "It is but a white token of my leather love."
Servalan opened the box. Inside was an evil spaceship! She gazed at it sneakily. Then she gazed at Avon sneakily. "It's black," Servalan said. "Come here and let me slap you."
Just then, a sarcastic crone sprang out of hiding and cackled like a reptile slithering through long grass. "Your happiness will not last!" she said in a bleak voice and dropped a piece of paper onto the dinner table. [Well, it's B7. We all knew that.]
Avon read it. "It's a page from a diary. It says...it says that you're my sister."
They stared at each other loudly as the crone cackled some more. Servalan's shoulder began to tremble. Then Avon shrugged, pulled out a stun gun, and hit the crone on her foot. She fell over dead. [Totally in character.]
"Problem solved!" Servalan said and kissed Avon expertly. "This is a grey Valentine's Day!"
They quietly burned the diary page in the candle and never told another soul. [This sounds like a Servalan and Avon type of solution. LOL]
And then they slapped each other all night long.
***
ravenskyewalker wanted to see the results.Luckily, I'd saved them. (They were too ridiculous not to.)
ETA:
persiflage_1 says this post should come with a no drinking (and probably no eating) warning. She is usually right, and I had trouble myself with the results and a glass of water...(I should explain that I put white and black in, thinking of Servalan's colour-code in dresses, so any weirdness on that front is my fault. Also the slapping.)
A Leather Day To Slap
Servalan stepped quietly out into the grey sunshine, and admired Avon's foot. "Ah," she sighed, "That's a white sight." [Yes, Avon's never been much for sun-bathing.]
Avon climbed off the spaceship and walked snarkily across the grass to greet his lover. Servalan patted Avon on the face and then tried to slap him expertly, but without success.
"That's all right," Avon said. "We can try again later."
"I'm just not evil," Servalan. "Not as evil as the time we slapped on a space station."
Avon nodded sneakily. "We were black back in those days."
"Our shoulders were younger, and we had a lot more fun with them," Servalan said. "Everything seems outrageous and bleak when you're young." [This is not a bad description of B7. I tell you, Orac is running the internet.]
"Of course," Avon said. "But now we're sarcastic, we can still have fun.* If we go about it loudly." [*Also not a bad description of B7.]
"Loudly?" Servalan said . "But how?"
"With this," Avon said and held out an underhand apple. "Just take that with some water and in half an hour, you'll be ready to slap."
Servalan swallowed the apple at once and sure enough, in half an hour, they were able to slap loudly. They slapped like a reptile slithering through long grass. Three times.
And then the neighbour told them to get off his lawn. [If Avon and Servalan were slapping each other on my lawn, I would have called the police way before this.]
***
I'm Dreaming Of A Black Christmas [It all got very festive from this point on.]
It was Christmas Eve. Servalan sat loudly on a space station, sipping outrageous eggnog. [Well, no one ever drinks anything normal in B7, especially not Servalan, so it would be.]
She looked at the sarcastic spaceship hanging on the Christmas Tree and sighed. Last year, Avon had hung it there, just before they looked at each other snarkily and then fell into each other's arms and slapped each other's shoulder. [Hmm. This is beginning to sound worryingly like folk-dancing, which is probably a step too far even for these two.]
If only I hadn't been so grey, Servalan thought, pouring a evil amount of rum into her eggnog. Then Avon might not have got so bleak and left me all alone at Christmas time. She wiped away a leather tear and held her foot in her hand. [!!??!!]
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and then a white voice lifted expertly up in song.
I'm dreaming of a black Christmas
Just like a reptile slithering through long grass
Servalan ran to the door. It was Avon, looking underhand all over with snow. [And singing. !!!?]
"I missed you quietly," Avon said. "And I wanted to slap your shoulder again."
Servalan hugged Avon and started to sob.
"I think you're drunk," Avon said. [That would explain a lot.]
"I think so too," Servalan said and they slapped each other's shoulder until they knocked the Christmas tree over.
On Christmas Day, they ate roasted snake face and lived sneakily until Servalan got drunk again. [This sounds like how Jacqueline Pearce would have ended B7...]
***
The Miracle Of The Snake
Servalan hated Christmas. She didn't just dislike Christmas, she hated it like a reptile slithering through long grass. She loathed it. [Well, duh. Although you would think she would like getting presents and going to parties.]
Every December, Servalan would feel herself getting all black inside. She refused to put up a Christmas apple, she snapped at anyone outrageous enough to sing a carol in her vicinity, and she never, ever bought anybody any presents. [Again, d'uh.]
On December 13, Servalan had to go to the mall to buy a bleak spaceship. When she got there, there were so many shoppers pushing snarkily around and so much Christmas music blaring loudly, she thought her foot would explode.
Finally, she was done. Just outside the door was a sarcastic man collecting for charity. Servalan never gave to charity, so she started to walk past without a word. [Absolutely. The miracle is what Avon is doing collecting for charity. Must be a cover.]
Suddenly, the sarcastic man dropped his bells and ran on a space station. There was a white snake right in the path of an oncoming truck. But the sarcastic man slipped and fell, so now they were both in danger!
Servalan rushed out and sneakily pushed them both out of the way. There was a leather bang and then everything went dark.
When Servalan woke up, she was in an underhand room. There was a Christmas apple in the corner and soft carols were playing. Also, Servalan's face hurt. A lot.
The sarcastic man came into the room. "I'm so grey!" he said. "You're awake. My name is Avon. You saved me from the truck. But your face is broken."
Servalan hardly knew what to say. Even though there was a Christmas apple up and her face was broken, she felt quite evil, especially when she looked at Avon. [Mmm-hmm. She would.]
"Your face must hurt quietly," Avon said. "I think this will help." And he slapped Servalan several times. [Ah, he's in one of his sadistic moods, then?]
Now Servalan felt very evil indeed. She didn't hate Christmas at all now. In fact, she loved it. And she loved Avon. "I love you," she said, and kissed Avon expertly. [She has had practise, this is true. More than most people in B7.]
"I love you too," said Avon. Just then, the snake ran into the room and nuzzled Servalan's shoulder. "I brought him home with us," Avon said.
"We'll call him Miracle," Servalan said. "Our Christmas Miracle." [Too right it's a miracle. A snake that can run into a room?]
It was the best Christmas ever. [By this point, I was a bit incoherent.]
***
To Snarkily Slap
Servalan and Avon were celebrating an outrageous Valentine's Day together. Servalan had cooked an underhand dinner and they ate on a space station by candlelight. [One wonders what was underhand about the dinner. The manner of obtaining it, or had she poisoned it?]
"My darling," Avon said, stroking Servalan's face, "I have something for you." He gave a box to Servalan. "It is but a white token of my leather love."
Servalan opened the box. Inside was an evil spaceship! She gazed at it sneakily. Then she gazed at Avon sneakily. "It's black," Servalan said. "Come here and let me slap you."
Just then, a sarcastic crone sprang out of hiding and cackled like a reptile slithering through long grass. "Your happiness will not last!" she said in a bleak voice and dropped a piece of paper onto the dinner table. [Well, it's B7. We all knew that.]
Avon read it. "It's a page from a diary. It says...it says that you're my sister."
They stared at each other loudly as the crone cackled some more. Servalan's shoulder began to tremble. Then Avon shrugged, pulled out a stun gun, and hit the crone on her foot. She fell over dead. [Totally in character.]
"Problem solved!" Servalan said and kissed Avon expertly. "This is a grey Valentine's Day!"
They quietly burned the diary page in the candle and never told another soul. [This sounds like a Servalan and Avon type of solution. LOL]
And then they slapped each other all night long.
***
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 24 Mar 2011 02:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 24 Mar 2011 04:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 24 Mar 2011 04:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 24 Mar 2011 04:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 24 Mar 2011 04:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 24 Mar 2011 03:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 24 Mar 2011 04:50 pm (UTC)I don't know. I did get a couple using the same template, and one the same template as Clocket's. But because it asks for a lot of info, it comes out different enough.
I think maybe tied with the Random paiirng Generator, it could make a proper meme.
no subject
Date: 24 Mar 2011 04:08 pm (UTC)Also, if I ever get around to watching Blakes 7 properly, I have a feeling there will be B7/DS9 crossover fic in my future. It's just a feeling I have.
no subject
Date: 24 Mar 2011 04:51 pm (UTC)Aw. I suppose similar could happen if I managed to watch DS9, cos crossovers tend to happen a lot with me, usually. Of course, there is the awkwardness of the two Federations to get around...
no subject
Date: 24 Mar 2011 07:05 pm (UTC)(The nice thing about DS9, especially in this context, is that it isn't nearly as ALL HAIL THE FEDERATION as other Treks - it's a very multicultural show, and some of the most sympathetic characters don't get on with the Federation people at all well, especially at first.)
(Also the writing and acting is phenomenal. Yes. You should watch it, even though the sets don't wobble. *g*)
no subject
Date: 24 Mar 2011 07:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 24 Mar 2011 08:01 pm (UTC)I did read a fic recently where ST existed in the B7 universe as an old TV show that the Federation likes to rerun because it gives a positive image for the Federation.
I kind of like the idea of their being the same organisation in sort of mirror universes or something. :-)
I once had a load of DS9 videos that I bought in order to obtain the Voyager vids that were with them, for my friend. We, er, gave them away. And the channel that was rerunning ST here has turned commercial. Still, I shall keep an eye out for opportunities! It's easier to come by than B7, anyway...
no subject
Date: 24 Mar 2011 09:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 24 Mar 2011 07:24 pm (UTC)Outrageous eggnog... sarcastic spaceship... heh. I'm dreaming of a black Christmas, just like a reptile slithering through long grass?!
Thanks so much. :-D
(I think I've played with this generator before, but using the Seventh Doctor and Ace.)
no subject
Date: 24 Mar 2011 08:09 pm (UTC)The slithering reptile is entirely my fault... *cough* The bit where Avon sings it is not.
Heh, glad it made you laugh, too. I did just sit there and laugh till I cried.
no subject
Date: 24 Mar 2011 08:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 27 Mar 2011 08:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 24 Mar 2011 07:58 pm (UTC)(If I go on at this rate, I'm going to need a TARDIS/Millennium Falcon OTP icon... *g*)
no subject
Date: 24 Mar 2011 08:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 24 Mar 2011 08:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 27 Mar 2011 08:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 28 Mar 2011 05:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 29 Mar 2011 11:12 am (UTC)This is totally a good way for you to ease slowly back into some recreational writing, yes? Look at the stuff you are writing already!
no subject
Date: 29 Mar 2011 04:57 pm (UTC)Yes, in theory except that doing even this much too much on Thursday killed my brain so much that it is only now slowly recovering. (Also the laughing was not good either.) Now it has, I will probably be able to do some image-y stuff again. In the far-flung future there might be drabbles. :-/
But thanks anyway.
no subject
Date: 2 Jan 2013 07:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2 Jan 2013 09:37 pm (UTC)I think it's the only post on my journal I can't look at for too long without laughing helplessly at.