December 25th, 2006

cass, can you not

What? Where? Who? Wow!

Dear anonymous LJ gifter extraordinary: OMG Thanks So Much! If I can get you anything at all -fic, porn, meta, whatever- just ask!

*plays with shiny paid account*
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cass, can you not


Christmas. Day Of Shopping, Eating and Gifts. Day Of A Lot Of Other People Doing Something You Just Don't Relate To. Saturnalia. Family Gathering Day. Family Missing Day. Family Avoiding Day. Day Of Happiness. Day Of Meh. Day Of Sadness. Birth. Death. Commercialism. Everything In Between. Childhood and parenthood and the calm afterward.

The day is nothing. You and your love are the thing and the whole of the thing.

If you want something, just say it. Ask any question. Request any fic. Sell me your most insane, wonderful plan.
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    happy happy
cass, can you not

Yuletide Awesomeness

Cleopatra's Needle. It's Morticia fic, and that should be enough rec for anybody, but it's also, and at its heart, beautiful prose. The imaginery is subtle and heartfelt and the details both effortlessly creative and self-consistent. Both the situations and the phrasing is lyric and touching, slightly painful in its dark beauty without *ever* even approaching mockery or self-parody.

This fic isn't goth. This is Gothic, and meaningfully, sincerely so. Nothing else, I think, could have worked so well to take the characters seriously, to make them so real.

Morticia's personality and heart shine through in a very humane way, without losing her trademark otherworldliness. Have no doubt, this is a character piece. The author never falls into the easy trap of black-is-white-bad-is-good cliché or rough gallow's humor, nor makes the opposite mistake of writing the characters as throughly normal people with strange hobbies. Everybody here is both real and alien, as complex and nuanced as anybody could be. There's humor in this story, of course, but it never makes fun *of* the universe and its characters - it's entertaining *within* it, and with them.

Propietary pride aside -not that I'm not entirely thrilled of having had this beautiful fic written for me- this story is a fantastic work of art, and I can't wait to know the name of the author to find out what else she or he has written.

The Seventh Wave It's an unexpected thing, to find a movieverse-Aeon Flux story *magical*, but this is the case here, and it works flawlessly. Trevor Goodchild and his world are just as human and as alien as they should be, and everything in this story, from the plot's arch to the smallest details, are pure Bregna.

Ennui At one level, it's a short, funny, whimsical moment in Hercule Poirot's life. But don't let that fool you. This was written by somebody who *knows* her/his Poirot and, more to the point, who loves and understands him. Characters are themselves to the point, not only in superficial elements like voice and actions, but also in the souls that move those actions. A short fic, there is nonetheless little of Poirot that couldn't be found reflected here.