Dearest
sheldrake, it's one day late but I wish you a very, very happy 2009 belatedly!

Consonants
by Lobelia
"Russ?"
"M?"
Then there was nothing for about a minute. No sound, that is. Vision continued. This in the form of jagged dots of light, some of them pink, some of them Yves-Klein-blue.
"You awake?"
"N."
Noel knew what the consonants meant. The M meant: "Yes, my friend, what do you wish to ask of me? I shall oblige willingly even though I would prefer to doze my days and nights away in an opium-induced stupour." And the N meant: "Fuck off."
Anyway, it wasn't even real opium. It was just some mish-mash of Tesco-herbs and leaves pulled off shrubs in the local park. And then stuffed into a cigar-shaped fat pen from Staples.
"Whatever. I've got to go now, though."
"H?"
H meant: "Where have you got to go to? You haven't got a life. So you haven't got anywhere to go."
"People can go places without a life," Noel said. He felt defiant. Maybe he'd start wearing a studded leather belt, like Russell. He could be tough. He looked at his long pale feet. His feet could be tough. All they needed was a pair of lace-up army boots.
Army was always tough.
"I could go to Afghanistan," he said.
"Kh," Russell said which was a sound like a truncated cough and meant, "Give over, go on with you, daft little bugger, whatever next?"
"I could, too," Noel said. He looked at Russell's bare feet. Russell had long toes and sickle-shaped toenails. A bit of grass stuck to the bottom of his sole, in the soft bit inbetween pad and toes. From the park, no doubt. From the opium raid, no doubt.
"B," Russell said and turned around to snore into his pillow.
"Well, b you, too," said Noel. He stole Russell's boots, unthreaded one of the studded belts from Russell's discarded jeans, stuffed the fat cigar-shaped pen into his shirt pocket... No, he didn't. He didn't have a shirt pocket for he was wearing only a T-shirt and no trousers.
No matter. Noel left the house, clad in top and boots, with a towel wrapped round his hips for modesty. The air was nippy. The bus stop said "Hello". "I'm going mountain climbing," said Noel to the rubbish bin. "And nobody can stop me."
THE END
Pairing: Noel Fielding / Russell Brand
Warning: Real! Person! Nudity!
Rating: G, if that.
Length: Short.

Consonants
by Lobelia
"Russ?"
"M?"
Then there was nothing for about a minute. No sound, that is. Vision continued. This in the form of jagged dots of light, some of them pink, some of them Yves-Klein-blue.
"You awake?"
"N."
Noel knew what the consonants meant. The M meant: "Yes, my friend, what do you wish to ask of me? I shall oblige willingly even though I would prefer to doze my days and nights away in an opium-induced stupour." And the N meant: "Fuck off."
Anyway, it wasn't even real opium. It was just some mish-mash of Tesco-herbs and leaves pulled off shrubs in the local park. And then stuffed into a cigar-shaped fat pen from Staples.
"Whatever. I've got to go now, though."
"H?"
H meant: "Where have you got to go to? You haven't got a life. So you haven't got anywhere to go."
"People can go places without a life," Noel said. He felt defiant. Maybe he'd start wearing a studded leather belt, like Russell. He could be tough. He looked at his long pale feet. His feet could be tough. All they needed was a pair of lace-up army boots.
Army was always tough.
"I could go to Afghanistan," he said.
"Kh," Russell said which was a sound like a truncated cough and meant, "Give over, go on with you, daft little bugger, whatever next?"
"I could, too," Noel said. He looked at Russell's bare feet. Russell had long toes and sickle-shaped toenails. A bit of grass stuck to the bottom of his sole, in the soft bit inbetween pad and toes. From the park, no doubt. From the opium raid, no doubt.
"B," Russell said and turned around to snore into his pillow.
"Well, b you, too," said Noel. He stole Russell's boots, unthreaded one of the studded belts from Russell's discarded jeans, stuffed the fat cigar-shaped pen into his shirt pocket... No, he didn't. He didn't have a shirt pocket for he was wearing only a T-shirt and no trousers.
No matter. Noel left the house, clad in top and boots, with a towel wrapped round his hips for modesty. The air was nippy. The bus stop said "Hello". "I'm going mountain climbing," said Noel to the rubbish bin. "And nobody can stop me."
THE END
Pairing: Noel Fielding / Russell Brand
Warning: Real! Person! Nudity!
Rating: G, if that.
Length: Short.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-09 11:13 am (UTC)Thank you thank you thank you! :D
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-09 11:14 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-09 11:19 am (UTC)I am happy you got this! And so early! Are you not at work?
Gads, what a pairing.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-09 11:22 am (UTC)Heee, how lovely to get a fic prezzie, and nice to see that picture, too. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-09 06:25 pm (UTC)Writing this fic just inspired another one. What an absurd fandom you profess.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-09 07:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-09 05:01 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-09 05:54 pm (UTC)Russell just makes himself look weird by accessorising and hairising. If he got a short back and sides and took off everything made of metal or leather, he'd look like a municipal librarian.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-09 07:40 pm (UTC)/pedant
;)
Although I think Russell looked quite weird before he got the makeover. Just in a different way.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-09 11:52 pm (UTC)The shaman is the brother??!
That is the weirdest looking family in the universe.
T'sons told me he was the cousins. Hm.
The Fieldings rool. I am so going to ship the brother now. Once I google his name.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-10 12:00 am (UTC)The lady is their mum. She is called Diane Fielding.
111
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-10 12:00 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-12 08:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-12 08:42 pm (UTC)Bollo. Who is Bollo?
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-12 08:45 pm (UTC)Bollo is played by Dave Brown who went to art college with Noel. A lot of the animations and design and so on are done by their art school friends, too.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-12 08:47 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-09 08:28 pm (UTC)Those two guys completely crack me up in real life. Or as it real as it gets, in their cases. They've taken performance art to half-sincere comedy. I should get some more of their stuff.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-10 12:02 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-10 10:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-09 09:17 pm (UTC)Write more!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-09 11:51 pm (UTC)Now that you mention it I do remember something of the sort. But that is surely pure Sheldrake, right? That cannot possibly be canon, in any shape or form??
I am not entirely hugely knowledgeably about this 'fandom', you know. If it even be a fandom. This... weirddom.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-09 11:52 pm (UTC)It is a small but rather perky little fandom full of people with very ncie icon. *nods sagely*
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-10 12:04 am (UTC)But I've gone off Russell Brand now, after the Jonathan Ross thing, and the bookie wookie already got on my nerves. He tries to hard to be odd-ball.
Noel, otoh, just is. Someone described it well somewhere on LJ when they said he sort of sparkles like something other worldly; he shines.
Is he the Moon?