Riona (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rionaleonhart) wrote2018-09-12 01:20 pm
rionaleonhart) wrote2018-09-12 01:20 pm
But There's Tacos There.
Oh, hey, The Mentalist now qualifies as one of my major fandoms by my 'at least ten thousand words across at least three fics' rule! I suppose I should give it a 'my fandom history' writeup.
The Mentalist
I got into The Mentalist at the age of twenty-one, as a direct result of being into Derren Brown. All I really knew about it was 'a Derren Brown ripoff solves crimes with the actress who plays Veronica in Prison Break'. I posted an entry going 'hey, should I watch The Mentalist?' and all the comments went 'NO, WATCH PSYCH INSTEAD' and I went 'well, I've got the pilot of The Mentalist right here, I'll just watch a couple of minutes.'
I fell in love instantly. I was fascinated from the moment Jane wandered into a crime scene to make himself a sandwich. It's easily the fastest a television series has ever captured my attention. And, although I could definitely see the Derren Brown inspiration in Jane, I was surprised by how quickly I started to love him on his own merits. (And demerits.)
The Mentalist never entirely went in the direction I wanted it to - it had some fascinatingly dark ideas it never really followed through on, and I dropped it at the end of season six when I realised it was probably never going to explore consequences in the way I hoped for - but it did do some really interesting things, and I love the characters so dearly. Both Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon are amongst my all-time top ten fictional characters; Jane might actually be my all-time favourite character, bar none.
Favourite character: No secrets here; it's Patrick Jane, the smug, charming, cowardly, petty, childish, playful, loving, guilt-ridden, horrifying, fucked-up moral disaster of a human being. Poor Teresa Lisbon would have been my favourite character in any other show, because I love her; she just has the misfortune to share screen space with my possible favourite character of all time.
Favourite pairing: 'Patrick Jane/the entire Serious Crimes unit plus Hightower in some weird asexual denial-ridden unspoken arrangement' is not technically a pairing, but I don't care; it's my answer. I wish more people wrote fanfiction for it, although I realise it's a fairly specific desire. I'm very pleased that I've been writing so much on the theme lately.
Number of words written: 15,636.
Snippet: The CBI team have a picnic, to make up for the TERRIBLE EPISODE where Jane goes 'let's have a picnic!' and they NEVER GET TO HAVE THEIR PICNIC because there's a murder. I always sort of wanted to expand this and post it properly, but I suppose there's only so much you can do with the concept 'everyone has a nice picnic'.
They’re far from the road, and Jane wasn’t able to give her many landmarks over the phone, because it is, after all, the desert, but Van Pelt manages to find them eventually. They’re sitting around on a red cloth. She hurries to join them. “Hey. Who is it?”
“Who’s who?” Lisbon asks.
“The victim,” Van Pelt says. She looks over at Jane, who is lying back with his elbows on the cloth, staring at the sky. “Jane?”
“Mm?”
There’s something weird about this, Van Pelt thinks. The relaxed attitude everyone has; the food on the cloth; the general lack of dead bodies.
“Jane,” Lisbon says, flatly.
“What?” Jane asks, sitting up. “She gets to have a nice picnic, and nobody’s dead. It’s a lovely surprise.”
“You really didn’t have to trick me into coming,” Van Pelt says, taking the space Rigsby cleared for her by shifting away from Jane. She’s trying to hide her amused smile, but she has a feeling it’s not working.
Jane shrugs. “I know. More fun this way, though.”
-
“Think of a card,” Jane says suddenly, when Van Pelt is about to start on her sandwich.
“I’m sorry?” she asks, setting it down.
“Think of a card,” Jane repeats, gesturing. “Any card. I mean, you’ve got fifty-two to choose from; it could be any of them.” He takes her left hand in his right. “And then I want you to concentrate, Grace; send me the image of the card in your mind. Send it here.” He places his other hand on his chest.
“I thought you said you weren’t psychic,” Van Pelt mutters, but she concentrates anyway.
“All right,” he says, closing his eyes. “I’m getting something.” He raises his left hand and trembles it in the air, then brings it down to pull a miniature playing card out from under the sandwich box.
It’s the three of diamonds.
There is a moment’s silence.
“You could’ve hidden an entire deck around here,” Cho points out.
“Yeah,” Rigsby says, “but still, how’d he know what she was thinking?”
“He didn’t,” Van Pelt says, staring at the card. “That’s not my card.”
“No?” Jane asks, surprised.
“No. I mean, it’s close, but – no.”
“Huh,” Jane says, slipping the three into his pocket. “Well, it’s not an exact science.”
Feeling a little let down, Van Pelt picks up her sandwich and bites into it.
She almost chokes on the two of hearts.
The other unfinished Mentalist fics on my computer: the Silent Hill crossover, which I've already posted as my Silent Hill unfinished snippet, and the Final Fantasy XIII crossover where Jane's family turn into monsters and he just keeps them locked up in his house. It's a concept I like, but there's no market for a Mentalist/Final Fantasy XIII crossover, alas. FFXIII has such interesting ideas, but crossovers with it are so inaccessible; there's so much jargon involved (l'Cie, fal'Cie, Cie'th, Focus...). Actually, might as well post what little I have of that here as well.
Lisbon closes her eyes and wishes she hadn’t opened that door.
“They’re Cie’th,” she says. “Aren’t they?”
It’s not really a question, and Jane doesn’t answer.
“This isn’t good, Jane, it isn’t healthy,” she says. “You can’t just keep them here.”
“So what am I supposed to do?” Jane asks. “If I let them go, they’ll kill. If I call PSICOM, they’ll die.”
They’re dead already. Lisbon can’t make herself say that to him, but he must know she’s thinking it.
“People in crystal stasis can wake up,” he says.
“That’s only a theory,” she says. “And they aren’t in crystal stasis.”
“I have to try,” he says. “As long as there’s a chance.”
(...)
“At least they were Sanctum l’Cie,” Van Pelt offers. “That’s something.”
“Eh,” Jane says, with a shrug. “When your family is turning into monsters, it doesn’t really feel like that much of a difference.”
(...)
“It didn’t need them. It gave them an impossible Focus. My wife and daughter’s lives were toys to this fal’Cie.”
The Mentalist
I got into The Mentalist at the age of twenty-one, as a direct result of being into Derren Brown. All I really knew about it was 'a Derren Brown ripoff solves crimes with the actress who plays Veronica in Prison Break'. I posted an entry going 'hey, should I watch The Mentalist?' and all the comments went 'NO, WATCH PSYCH INSTEAD' and I went 'well, I've got the pilot of The Mentalist right here, I'll just watch a couple of minutes.'
I fell in love instantly. I was fascinated from the moment Jane wandered into a crime scene to make himself a sandwich. It's easily the fastest a television series has ever captured my attention. And, although I could definitely see the Derren Brown inspiration in Jane, I was surprised by how quickly I started to love him on his own merits. (And demerits.)
The Mentalist never entirely went in the direction I wanted it to - it had some fascinatingly dark ideas it never really followed through on, and I dropped it at the end of season six when I realised it was probably never going to explore consequences in the way I hoped for - but it did do some really interesting things, and I love the characters so dearly. Both Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon are amongst my all-time top ten fictional characters; Jane might actually be my all-time favourite character, bar none.
Favourite character: No secrets here; it's Patrick Jane, the smug, charming, cowardly, petty, childish, playful, loving, guilt-ridden, horrifying, fucked-up moral disaster of a human being. Poor Teresa Lisbon would have been my favourite character in any other show, because I love her; she just has the misfortune to share screen space with my possible favourite character of all time.
Favourite pairing: 'Patrick Jane/the entire Serious Crimes unit plus Hightower in some weird asexual denial-ridden unspoken arrangement' is not technically a pairing, but I don't care; it's my answer. I wish more people wrote fanfiction for it, although I realise it's a fairly specific desire. I'm very pleased that I've been writing so much on the theme lately.
Number of words written: 15,636.
Snippet: The CBI team have a picnic, to make up for the TERRIBLE EPISODE where Jane goes 'let's have a picnic!' and they NEVER GET TO HAVE THEIR PICNIC because there's a murder. I always sort of wanted to expand this and post it properly, but I suppose there's only so much you can do with the concept 'everyone has a nice picnic'.
They’re far from the road, and Jane wasn’t able to give her many landmarks over the phone, because it is, after all, the desert, but Van Pelt manages to find them eventually. They’re sitting around on a red cloth. She hurries to join them. “Hey. Who is it?”
“Who’s who?” Lisbon asks.
“The victim,” Van Pelt says. She looks over at Jane, who is lying back with his elbows on the cloth, staring at the sky. “Jane?”
“Mm?”
There’s something weird about this, Van Pelt thinks. The relaxed attitude everyone has; the food on the cloth; the general lack of dead bodies.
“Jane,” Lisbon says, flatly.
“What?” Jane asks, sitting up. “She gets to have a nice picnic, and nobody’s dead. It’s a lovely surprise.”
“You really didn’t have to trick me into coming,” Van Pelt says, taking the space Rigsby cleared for her by shifting away from Jane. She’s trying to hide her amused smile, but she has a feeling it’s not working.
Jane shrugs. “I know. More fun this way, though.”
“Think of a card,” Jane says suddenly, when Van Pelt is about to start on her sandwich.
“I’m sorry?” she asks, setting it down.
“Think of a card,” Jane repeats, gesturing. “Any card. I mean, you’ve got fifty-two to choose from; it could be any of them.” He takes her left hand in his right. “And then I want you to concentrate, Grace; send me the image of the card in your mind. Send it here.” He places his other hand on his chest.
“I thought you said you weren’t psychic,” Van Pelt mutters, but she concentrates anyway.
“All right,” he says, closing his eyes. “I’m getting something.” He raises his left hand and trembles it in the air, then brings it down to pull a miniature playing card out from under the sandwich box.
It’s the three of diamonds.
There is a moment’s silence.
“You could’ve hidden an entire deck around here,” Cho points out.
“Yeah,” Rigsby says, “but still, how’d he know what she was thinking?”
“He didn’t,” Van Pelt says, staring at the card. “That’s not my card.”
“No?” Jane asks, surprised.
“No. I mean, it’s close, but – no.”
“Huh,” Jane says, slipping the three into his pocket. “Well, it’s not an exact science.”
Feeling a little let down, Van Pelt picks up her sandwich and bites into it.
She almost chokes on the two of hearts.
The other unfinished Mentalist fics on my computer: the Silent Hill crossover, which I've already posted as my Silent Hill unfinished snippet, and the Final Fantasy XIII crossover where Jane's family turn into monsters and he just keeps them locked up in his house. It's a concept I like, but there's no market for a Mentalist/Final Fantasy XIII crossover, alas. FFXIII has such interesting ideas, but crossovers with it are so inaccessible; there's so much jargon involved (l'Cie, fal'Cie, Cie'th, Focus...). Actually, might as well post what little I have of that here as well.
Lisbon closes her eyes and wishes she hadn’t opened that door.
“They’re Cie’th,” she says. “Aren’t they?”
It’s not really a question, and Jane doesn’t answer.
“This isn’t good, Jane, it isn’t healthy,” she says. “You can’t just keep them here.”
“So what am I supposed to do?” Jane asks. “If I let them go, they’ll kill. If I call PSICOM, they’ll die.”
They’re dead already. Lisbon can’t make herself say that to him, but he must know she’s thinking it.
“People in crystal stasis can wake up,” he says.
“That’s only a theory,” she says. “And they aren’t in crystal stasis.”
“I have to try,” he says. “As long as there’s a chance.”
(...)
“At least they were Sanctum l’Cie,” Van Pelt offers. “That’s something.”
“Eh,” Jane says, with a shrug. “When your family is turning into monsters, it doesn’t really feel like that much of a difference.”
(...)
“It didn’t need them. It gave them an impossible Focus. My wife and daughter’s lives were toys to this fal’Cie.”