sl_walker: (Turnbull - Smile!)
[personal profile] sl_walker posting in [community profile] ds_noticeboard
As everyone likely knows by now, [livejournal.com profile] kalijean and I are quite big fans of Renfield Turnbull. So, standing upon the platform of that love, we would like to make a potentially fun, charitable event out of it!

Welcome to the Month of Turnbull. Grab your favorite country music, snuggle your stuffed husky and most of all, have fun! For every completed task, we will donate one V-gift (on LJ), from your favorite charity, to you or your designated recipient. If you're on Dreamwidth, you can still possibly participate by naming the LJ user who will be in receipt of the gift. So, not only does this have potential for loving on a Mountie, but you can also help charity in the meantime!

The qualifications for one donation are as follows:

7 pieces of feedback for any new or existing Turnbull stories, where he's the star, of twenty-five or more words, or 4 pieces of detailed feedback, going in depth, of at least seventy-five words. More is better, though!

500+ word story, starring Turnbull; any pairing, any rating. Feel free to go longer, though -- you can never have too much Turnbull. XD Or, you can write one Turnbull-starring snippet for [livejournal.com profile] ds_snippets and one starring whoever you want, just to get some activity going there!

20 icons, again starring Turnbull, in a set. Sharable, if possible, with the greater community!

1 piece of Turnbull fanart, detailed sketch quality or better. Need not be colored.


If you need help, you can find a number of past stories at The Collected Stories: Redux, you can browse his AO3 tag, or you can go to Google!

Then, once you've completed your task, please link to your feedbacks, stories, icons or artworks here in the comments of this post. There's no upper limit (currently) on how much you can do, so if you feel like going further for charity, go for it!

Spread the love for Turnbull, donate to charity and add to the creative tapestry of fandom, all in one go! Hope to see you there!

Date: 2012-03-01 09:41 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mific.livejournal.com
I can't do the challenge but here's a Turnbull icon I made a while back with zelempa's permission, for some fanart_recs posts on DW. Yours were among the recs :)

Image

Date: 2012-03-12 02:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bghost.livejournal.com
Here is one for you... http://archiveofourown.org/works/360993

I'm a fan of Turnbull's whacky weirdness myself, hope you like this.

Date: 2012-03-12 07:29 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bghost.livejournal.com
Here is another one for you... it's based on a poem by Mervyn Peake, "Sensitive Seldom and Sad," which for some reason seemed just right for Turnbull.

I'll be posting it to AO3 just as soon as the site is working again.

Sensitive Solitudes

Simple, seldom and sad
Am I;
Alone in the consulate lands
Afar,
With sweet mad Yearnings
Sad and
Strangely beautiful
So I'm told
By the Creatures that Move
In the Sky
And Die
In the night when the Filing Cabinets
Release their rattling leaves and cry.

Sensitive, seldom and sad -
Sensitive, seldom and sad -

Simple, seldom and sad
Am I
When I take my path
Down the carpeted halls -
With mad, sweet Expressions
Of yore,
Strangely beautiful,
Yea, and more
In the cloistered nights
When my box
Conceals
My ragged heart, and my dreams revealed
Prance and cry,
And never die,
Beneath the coffee coloured sky
Here am I

sensitive, seldom and sad -
sensitive, seldom and sad.

Date: 2012-03-12 10:19 pm (UTC)
kalijean: (Default)
From: [personal profile] kalijean
Oh, wow. Poems are so hard to write, so we'd love to offer another v-gift for this one. What charity would you like?

Date: 2012-03-12 10:49 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bghost.livejournal.com
Rhino? And this poem was made a little bit easier because I pinched from the best.

I love writing poetry... I might try and write a completely independant one at some point... Humm. I'm thinking some kind of a love poem from Turnbull's point of view...

Date: 2012-03-12 10:58 pm (UTC)
kalijean: (Default)
From: [personal profile] kalijean
Paid for ♥

Ooh... I'd love to see what shakes loose :D

Date: 2012-03-12 07:44 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bghost.livejournal.com
Finally got it uploaded onto AO3... http://archiveofourown.org/works/361139

Date: 2012-03-12 11:58 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bghost.livejournal.com
I'm sorry... you've really inspired me! I'm meant to be writing chapter three of the "white wolf" story I'm working on, but Turnbull is quite loud in my imagination at the moment.

I'm not going to post this onto AO3 yet, because I will probably redraft it... but here for any constructive criticism is my first draft of a Turnbull poem. It's a bit of back story, how he arrived in Chicago, his first meeting with Fraser.

If anyone can think of a title for this poem, I'd be grateful.

Nobody said it would be easy,
Nobody said anything at all...
I was just shown the door:
Don't let the country hit you
On your way out.
And I was gone,
Down that winter highway...
Coach coffined,
Driven like rain by a storm.

Winter chill on my cheek
My face pressed against the glass,
Wide spaces pass, snow streaked.
My face a ghost glimpsed
On the night window.

Tears run along the far side
The dark side,
The ice side of the pane.

Swallowed up by night
Swallowed up by flight
Until we arrive at last
In the windy city...
Any cold port in a storm.

My whole life hangs over my back,
One bag, and all my heart in it,
I look around this strange new world
And know that I'll never fit in it.

But there they are,
Sudden and bright,
All Canada beneath
The city lights.

Everything I thought lost,
That in my hope was true.
The land that I had dreamt of
That nobody else ever knew.

Here at the coach stop I see
My dream Canada standing,
A wolf, and his man.
White as snow,
Red as blood,
Fierce as ice,
Pure as love.

The man smiles,
And it's far too late for me.
I fall, and I'm still falling,
Free falling,
Forever down
In love.

Date: 2012-03-13 01:05 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bghost.livejournal.com
Argh, I wish I could edit my replies, so I didn't litter up this thread... just to say, I'm going to pluck out the "everything I thought I'd lost" stanza completely, and what do you think of "Ragged Heart Road" as a title? Referencing "Ragged Ass Road" from musical canon? (It's the song being played when the Inuit are retrieving their masks.)

Date: 2012-03-13 02:52 am (UTC)
kalijean: (Default)
From: [personal profile] kalijean
I think that's a beautiful title. <3 Let me know what charity you'd like for this one.

I used to dabble in poetry. I humiliated myself the last time I tried; I envy your deftness with it. This is really gorgeous (and it made me go play 'Free Falling', as an aside). I'm honestly envious of your ability. Beautifully, beautifully done.

Date: 2012-03-13 03:03 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bghost.livejournal.com
I'll let you pick a charity, it's your poem after all.

Date: 2012-03-13 04:35 pm (UTC)
kalijean: (Default)
From: [personal profile] kalijean
Oh, hon ♥

It's paid for. (I hope you like teddy bears.)

Date: 2012-03-13 05:38 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bghost.livejournal.com
Thank you! I love teddy bears. (And stuffed huskeys...)

Date: 2012-03-14 08:28 pm (UTC)
kalijean: (Default)
From: [personal profile] kalijean
::giggles:: I have Turnbull's stuffed husky. The... exact same dog. He's sitting on my shelf. :D

You're welcome, dear. Thank you!

Here's Fairy!Turnbull Fic

Date: 2012-03-14 02:59 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] love-jackianto.livejournal.com

Once upon a time there was fairy named Turnbull, so named because he had been born in a cow pasture. For as long as Turnbull could remember he had always wanted to be Flyie (Royal Northland Flying Police). When he turned eighteen summers old he entered the academy.

He studied hard and became the top of his class. He had very few friends because while he knew rules and regulations, he knew very little about people (or fairies for that matter).

The first day after he graduated from Flyie academy, he made sure his uniform was in good order and his hat was brushed. He might just be an apprentice, but it never hurt to make a good impression.

When he met the head fairy that would train him he was stunned. Frannie wad wearing a yellow dress and Turnbull had always been enamored by the color yellow. As he got to know her, he became enamored with Frannie's personality. He never did find out who Pamela was or why she had a dog, though.

When prince Ray was born, Turnbull thought Frannie never looked happier than when she was playing with him. On Ray's first birthday Turnbull gave Ray golden hair (did I mention Turnbull liked yellow).

Over the years, Frannie and Turnbull watched Ray grow from an excitable little boy to an excitable young man. The night Ray pricked his finger, Turnbull laid Ray and Speedy the giant turtle on Ray's bed. He thought Ray would have liked that. Frannie took the idea and put everyone in the kingdom into their beds and they waited and waited for the spell to be broken. The played a lot of cards and bet a lot of air and moonlight.

When Fraser prince of the Northland came to the kingdom, Frannie went on and on about how handsome he was. Turnbull thought it was because Fraser wore a hat. Turnbull tried wearing a hat but he could never get it to sit quite right on his head.

When Fraser woke Ray with a kiss Frannie and Turnbull looked on. Frannie said it was very romantic and Turnbull couldn't help but agree.

The day Ray left with Fraser for the Northland, Turnbull became a fairy first class and Frannie was no longer his trainer. They started a friendship over their mutual love of dragons.

One bright spring day, Turnbull packed a picnic lunch and invited Frannie to go dragon riding with him. After they went riding, Turnbull spread out the picnic blanket and they laid on it and watched the clouds go by. Turnbull looked over at Frannie and thought she never looked more beautiful than when she was laughing in the sun shine. Gathering his courage, Turnbull put his hand on Frannie's and his heart skipped a beat when Frannie squeezed his hand. That night after Turnbull walked Frannie home, she kissed him on the cheek.

The next day Turnbull went into his garden and picked the biggest, yellowist flowers he could find. On a small piece of paper he wrote a simple note:

Lovely flowers for a lovely fairy.

Turnbull gave Frannie the flowers and she kissed the corner of Turnbull mouth. Like a big, beautiful flower their relationship grew and grew, but that is a story for another time.

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