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Fic: The Visual Spectrum: Seeing the Light (Xander R) - RoguePythia — LiveJournal
Fic: The Visual Spectrum: Seeing the Light (Xander R)
It is a sad day indeed. Joss has proclaimed ME no more. I can cry into my foamy drink or I can let go and just let it all hang out. Here I am, letting it all hang out.

In memoriam of one of the greatest production companies, ever, I post a sad little tale. I'll never see my Spike again but he lives on in my heart and in my fic. Now, back to the foamy drink.

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Title: The Visual Spectrum: Seeing the Light
Rating: Soft R
Summary: Xander makes a deadly error in judgment and only pieces the puzzle together when it is much too late.
Timeline: Post LMPTM, goes AU after that.
Pairings: Allusions to Xander/Anya romance and Xander&Spike friendship
Warnings: Major character death, abstract stream of consciousness, and allusions of rape and/or possible non-con. *This is not a happy fic!*
Disclaimer: Not mine, wish they were
Beta: crazydiamondsue, who somehow managed to boost my ego, in part insightful wisdom and keep me on track, all in the same sentence.
A/N: This is a stand alone piece but one day I'd like to explore the story further.
A/N 2: This is not at all a shipper fic of any kind although it does deal with Xander's feelings towards Anya and his budding friendship with Spike.

The Visual Spectrum: Seeing the Light

The sky can be many different colors. He has seen his fair share. Deep blazing purple with mandarin highlights streaking across it or midnight blue with milky white needle pricks of light. Now slightly tinged by lavender the sky was a baby powder blue. Which was funny because powder isn’t blue, it’s white. Unless you put something in it to make it blue and then, well, that is just wrong.

But there was nothing in the sky today. Well, the sky had this white film over it, creating a softness to it, like a thin layer of cloud cover even though there was none. Not a one. Not a single cloud. At least as far as he could tell.

From this angle.

It was just a step. One little step. And one makes all the difference. Measure the distance, as he tends to do, and it wouldn’t be more than a foot. Not a real foot. Twelve inches really. He knows why they call it a foot, even though in the present day no one would have a foot that long.

And now it doesn’t really matter.

Not from this angle anyway.

He thought the sky would have looked different for some reason. Maybe the angle of the buildings this far down and twisted around. But it doesn’t. The color stayed the same. Just the same baby powder blue it was before he made that step.

Except now the angle is all wrong.

Angles, important for building. Got to make sure they are right or else you’ll have to start the entire project over. Couldn’t build without the right angles. Can’t build on that. He should know. It is what he does. He can build anything but he mostly loves to build houses.


He always loved to imagine what type of family would live in the new home once he was finished. A couple just starting out on their own, oblivious to the dangers around them or a family with 2.5 kids, a dog and a cat…and what did that equal anyhow?


They are there to protect you. From heat and cold, from strangers you can just lock out. When the taunting and the jabs and the insults became just too much he ran as fast as his little legs would carry him. Running to the only home he knew. Not quite safe, not quite secure, not as strong as he would have liked, but his nonetheless. And that was enough at the time. It kept the imaginary monsters locked outside. They weren’t invited. Only problem was, the real ones inside were just as bad and they had been invited before he even got there. He’d sworn never again. He was wrong.

Home. That was what was important. It was where you were supposed to be safe and loved. Maybe it couldn’t be that way in the original so he built a home, a sanctuary of his own and for awhile, it was just as he wanted it. It wasn’t just as he pictured it would be but then, nothing ever is. But he was safe and happy, at least for awhile. And now, he was neither and never would be.

What a mess. Thumpthump. A bloody pile of flesh, of bone. Thump thump. His mind ran in frantic circles trying to figure out what his body had done without its consent. Thump, thump. The hollowed out cavity that once held love and trust and the essence of his life was still fighting the fight. Thump…thump. The never-ending battle. Thump. Thump. Even though the war was already over. Thump.

He had made this happen. He had changed the angles. When the angles aren’t right, things run in wrong directions, water needs to flow down, not to the side. But this isn’t water and it isn’t going down. It is pooling into his line of sight. Blotting out the powder blue and making the sky black. He would have thought it would make it red but the sky just isn’t there anymore. He focuses on the part he can still see; wanting to change his vision so all he can see is the baby powder blue.

Baby Powder Blue. Sounds nice. Like babies, soft with powder. Babies are nice. Well, when they aren’t crying. Or shitting. Or eating. But still, nice. He’ll never have one now but he always thought he would. One day. But he needed to get rid of the evil in his life first.

He had invited it in; so many times he lost count.

Into his home.

His sanctuary.

You aren’t supposed to invite it in.

But he always thought he had a handle on it. Until it grew to have a life of it’s own. Who gave it permission to do that? It came in and twisted his life until he couldn’t recognize it anymore. Doesn’t even remember what his life used to be like. Was it better? Worse? The same? Sure there was everyday evil, up close and personal but this evil grew to mammoth proportions.

He never picked his towels off the floor. It was insidious the way that ate at him. He started to do the same with his socks just for payback. It brought out the beast in him. How much more evil could you get then that? But he found a way, always did. Oh, he made it seem like he had changed. And the lie was bought, hook, line, and sinker.

Friends was too strong a word. Compadres? Brothers in arms? Enemies fighting for the same goal would probably fit it best. They never liked each other but lately, towards the end, before he became a pawn for a bigger evil, camaraderie was forming. Probably from living in such close quarters. Practically on top of one another. At least they had kept different hours. That made the awkwardness less…awkward. And more companionable. There was a foundation there to build on. Build…something. There was trust and a shared history. How many times had they saved each other’s lives? Just on a daily basis was astronomical. They had seen the worst of each other and could still stand to be in the same room with one another. Before intervention, the same home. That was more then he could say for…

No he wouldn’t…couldn’t go there. Not real. It wasn’t …not real. But evil was real and it never changed. No matter how many times it said it had.


He remembered the warmth most. It had been a hot day, the sun bright overhead as he worked at the site. Not a cloud in the sky. He had decided to go shopping on his way home to pick up essentials that he and the potentials were running low on; toothpaste, toilet paper, and while browsing the store, he found a little card, with bright sparkles of red, blue and green, dotting across the front and an envelope made of shiny, silver mylar. A ‘Hey, we aren’t going to die in the next apocalypse. Let’s celebrate!’ card. Who knew Hallmark catered to the Hellmouth? So he bought a few. And then a dozen more, just in case. Those little babies might come in handy, he thought.

By the time he made it home, the sun had made its way across the clear sky and was hanging low, just about to start setting. When he got to his door he never even knew that anything was out of place. After all the evil was inside and not splattered on his door.

He entered and heard knocking coming from his room. A steady rhythm of tap, tap, tap. He should have known to just walk away. Nothing ever good came from walking towards that kind of sound. But he was drawn to it. Tap, tap, tap. It was his room after all. No one, not even the no longer evil one, should be in there. He had taken his meager possessions and practically fled, into the waiting chains across town. The potentials knew to stay out, there were things in there teenage girls just didn’t need to know about, not yet.

His heart gave a little jump. Maybe it was her, coming to…what? They had each contributed to the burning of that bridge to the ground. A roaring, fiery death and then they crushed it under foot. No, there was no going back. They’d had their one last time.

No matter what his imagination had come up with in the short time it took to get across his darkened living room, blinds shut tight against the dying daylight, nothing came close to the bleak reality. He paused in the doorway, just not believing. A part of his mind skittered away and locked itself up, determined to never return. Sayonara, sucker! It said. Taking with it the ability to breathe, think, and move.

He stood there, frozen. The weight of the solitary brown paper bag from the store suddenly became too much and it tumbled end over end, past numb fingertips. He stood there. Oblivious to the individually wrapped toilet paper rolling towards safety and the festive cards and mylar envelopes glittering every which way as they fluttered to the ground. Frozen. Just watching in growing horror. Knowing it was somehow All. His. Fault.

He had invited it in, after all.

They say things slow down after a shock and whoever they may be, they must be right, because he noticed the oddest things. The tap, tap, tap had turned into a thump, slurp, thump. The amber light from the setting sun shot through the blinds at an odd angle casting slotted shadows across the room. Even hidden behind the familiar slicked platinum head, the new auburn highlights in her hair that he had yet to see but heard so much about, caught the light just right as it was twisted over the pillows, creating an ethereal glow to it. And there was the leg. The angle was all wrong draped over another man’s body but he would recognize it anywhere. The painted toenails made it painfully clear. Just the color she loved, an odd shade of green he could never place. Not quite the faded olive tone of the money she adored but just a few tints darker, deeper. Almost emerald in its brilliance, with the way the gloss made it shine.

But he should have known what that sound was without the visual though. Hips thrusting languidly beneath crisp white sheets, tangled pale limbs, and soft moans coming…coming. If even a sliver of doubt remained, it was battered out of existence with the flash of glistening fang withdrawing from her soft flesh and the delighted moan escaping from darkened, wet lips.

But this wasn’t right. Wasn’t it supposed to be red? Bright like ketchup spilled all over your shirt when you’ve tried to get it out and it. Just. Won’t. Come. Battering at the bottle till it gives and gives all over you. It isn’t the same but it should be red. Shouldn’t it? But it isn’t.

It is almost black, a deep russet brown making her hair take on a ruddier hue. At least where it wasn’t becoming a matted, gnarled wet mess covering her face. She wouldn’t like that. She always took such great care of herself. Hair, nails, make-up. For a one thousand-year-old demon she sure did know the ways of the modern woman. And he loved her all the more for it. He had loved carding his fingers through her silky hair and over the softness of her skin but now…

It seemed as if his presence was finally noticed but only one body turned to look at him. The other body lay still as the growing thick, dark pool slid over her chest. He followed it with his eyes as it flowed down around and in between her exposed breasts, ran towards the tender flesh of her belly, quickly filling her navel and then falling away off her sides. Still, some had managed to continue the journey downward, beneath the sheet to where they were still joined. Her and It. The evil. The thing he had trusted. Invited in. He should have known. Could he have prevented this? If only-

Movement. It was coming for him. The soiled sheet slowing falling away revealing taut muscles, still coiled tight after their exertion. Pale and gleaming in the dying light from the window, it stood proud and arrogant, taunting him.

The sun slipped beneath the horizon, turning the amber to scarlet. There was no where to go now. The evil was coming and it was coming for him. He did the only thing he knew how to do. The only thing he ever believed he was good at. Even after all these years of training and experience. When it came down to it…he ran.


He ran.

Shame, hot and bright, struck him hard and tore at his insides. He nearly stumbled under the weight but refused to stop.

He ran so fast that the stairs blurred under his feet. Stairs taking him up and up. How far did they go? All the way? Would the evil follow? Would it know where it look? It should. Even he could smell the horror radiating off of him. And there was no light to stop it now.

No light to hide behind.

He couldn’t hide from himself or from the truth. That he had left her behind. But she hadn’t done a thing, not said a single word, not made a single move. He told himself that, so that he could live with what he had done but it wasn’t working.

He had left her when she needed him most. Just like before. When she was dressed all in silky white and waiting for him. All he had to do was keep hold of her hand and walk down the aisle with her. Maybe if he had, she would have been safe. They could have had that home with the 2.5 kids and the dog and the cat. But they never did because he ran. And now they never would. No, she needed him and he was a coward, saving his own skin while the darkness shrouded her.

Coward. Yellow belly coward, not fit to be in her presence. Yellow, that was what he was. He could practically feel the bright canary feathers flying off him as he fled. And left her behind.

He tore past the ‘Not an Exit’ sign and onto the roof fueled by adrenaline and shame. Running unseeing in circles trying to escape his memories as they relentlessly bombarded him. The first time they met, the first time they argued, the first time they had sex, only his second ever.

And then there was It, the evil he had trusted, shared a home with, fought beside…what of him? Of all the times he could have turned against them and never did. When there were so many chances. When he was a greater evil’s play thing. Why her? Why now? Now that he was free.

He burst through, past the safety chain, as if the devil was on his heals. And this time, it was. Feet scraped for purchase on the loose gravel, tears blurred his vision as he lost his balance, stumbled and fell. Gravel skittered away as he flopped onto all fours, hands and knees speared and scratched. But there was no time. There were footsteps behind, crossing onto the roof, the crunch crunch of the gravel was deafening and only getting louder.

Oh no. It is coming. But if it is, then she must be…gone. She was always so alive and vibrant, how could she be gone? She had plans. He might not have been a part of them for some time but he still wanted her to have those plans come true. Even without him. But now, she never would.

And it was all his fault.

It was all so clear now. Running was pointless. He understood that. There was no where to go. You can’t run away from yourself after all.

So he got up, not bothering to pick out the pieces of gravel from his skin, or brush himself off. As if in a daze, he walked forward and took that step, before the crunch, crunch got any louder and he could see what was coming. He didn’t need to see in order to know what it was. He didn’t want to look in its eyes and see the truth. That he had let this happen. That by inviting it into his life, he let it infect him. Let it invade his home. Let it inside. Evil that he had trusted. That he had kept. Evil that had fought beside him. But evil all the same.


And now that he had felt the crack from the concrete steps and the baby powder blue of the sky was almost hidden behind black pools he played the scene over and over again in his mind. How had he gotten here? He owed that to her after all, and he had nothing else to do but wait. So he played the record of his mind again and again.

Coming home and hearing noises. Being drawn to them like the moth on a one way trip to Flamesville. Watching in horror as the scene unfolded before him; the package falling from his hands, her leg draped over a hip that wasn’t his, the slurping and a guttural moan of completion, the mylar checkerboard that glittered at his feet, the darkness flowing out and dripping off her sides and the evil rising to come after him, standing in the fading light of the sun.

Over and over again until something in his mind clicked. Something that just wasn’t right.

And as the purpling blue sky faded from view and the darkness enveloped him, he understood his mistake.

“Oh. God no.”

The realization hit him harder than any fall, no matter how high the drop. It should have been so simple. It should have been so easy. But the part of his mind that fled, must have been the part paying attention at that particular Scooby meeting.

The very fundamentals of what he had been taught, droned into his mind over and over again, had failed him. What had saved his life countless times. What he had relied upon since the day he knew the horrible truth. Something that had been ingrained in him for years. Was simply gone.

It was as clear as day but he hadn’t seen.

Because the evil inside his home wasn’t a vampire. It was evil in its purest form. And it knew just how to blind him from the truth, how to send him over the edge.

So it got exactly what it wanted.

The Slayer was one more soldier down.

And Xander’s world faded to black.


Current Mood: contemplative contemplative

39 comments or Leave a comment
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(Deleted comment)
_sharvie_ From: _sharvie_ Date: October 26th, 2004 05:22 pm (UTC) (Link)
Wow, four times! You're the best beta ever! Thank you so much.

As for the next bit...You know that muse we keep following around trying to catch and put in a jar. Well, she keeps insisting on bits for the First Anniversary challenge at bloodclaim. And I also have due a Wuffy fic so...we'll see. *wink* You'll be the first to know though.
sandy_s From: sandy_s Date: October 26th, 2004 04:24 pm (UTC) (Link)
Really no more Spike? *sobs* No TV movies? :o(
_sharvie_ From: _sharvie_ Date: October 26th, 2004 06:03 pm (UTC) (Link)
As much as it pains me, yes. Here is the link to the news on Yahoo!News from, I believe, Variety.com

I'm sobbing too.

"Buffy the Vampire Slayer" creator Joss Whedon is done with TV -- for now.

Twentieth Century Fox TV has approved Whedon's request to halt his overall deal at the studio, effectively shuttering his Mutant Enemy production shingle.

Besides wanting to focus on his feature career, Whedon said he decided to take a break from TV because, quite simply, he had run out of series ideas.

"I spent a lot of time trying to think what my next series would be," Whedon said. "I couldn't think of anything. When that happens, it generally means something is just not working. I didn't feel like I could come up with anything that the networks would want."

Whedon had a little over a year left on his overall pact with 20th Century Fox TV. Under terms of his departure, the scribe can't work on TV projects anywhere else. And if Whedon decides to return to TV, 20th gets first dibs.

"It would be a lie to say that I'm not disappointed, because I will miss working with Joss," said 20th Century Fox TV prexy Dana Walden.
"Hopefully, sooner rather than later, he'll have an inspired TV idea that he can't help himself from doing. ... We're just glad that when he decides to do TV again, it will be with us."

The departure doesn't affect Whedon's film career; the scribe is not set up anywhere on the feature side.

Whedon currently is writing and directing the feature "Serenity," based on his short-lived Fox skein "Firefly." He also has an animated TV version of "Buffy" in the works; that project will continue to be developed.

Mutant Enemy is expected to close shop as soon as this week; departing are the label's handful of staffers, including company president Chris Buchanan, who's been with Mutant Enemy since 2002 and is exec producing "Serenity."

"My career has always gone through phases of swelling and shrinking," Whedon said. "It's just a different phase, but this is hopefully not the end of my TV career. There are a lot of people I won't be working with that I will miss."

Mutant Enemy will continue with Whedon as the sole proprietor.
Whedon's decision caught some insiders off-guard. Given 20th's tremendous success with "Buffy" and its spinoff, "Angel," Whedon has more than earned his keep at the studio. So it's conceivable he could have finished out his deal at 20th without developing anything new -- and without anyone at the studio minding.

But Whedon dismissed that idea.

"It's possible, but I'm not interested in taking money that I don't earn," he said. "And I found out from 'Firefly' that I'm not the kind of producer who can throw something up on the wall every year and see if it sticks."

Whedon said his decision also was helped by personal matters: His second child is due to be born shortly. And, Whedon admits, he's discouraged by TV's reality boom.

"I have a bitter taste in my mouth with where TV has gone in the past five years," said Whedon, who called TV's reality trend "loathsome."

Whedon got his start on laffers like "Roseanne" and "Parenthood" before turning his attention to features. Scribe's credits include "Speed" and "Toy Story," as well as the original film version of "Buffy."

"When we did the pilot of 'Buffy,' Joss' agent told us he'd be with the show for the first 13 episodes and then go back to his feature career," Walden said. "Given that we're hundreds of episodes of TV shows later, he's finally turning back to features. It would be unfair of me not to understand."

_beetle_ From: _beetle_ Date: February 5th, 2005 04:25 am (UTC) (Link)

I had a bad feeling from the beginning, but -jeez. The prose was just taut, cranked up my anxiety sentence bysentence until I was literally holding my breath. The beginning has that eerie serenity that should've told me what was gonna happen, but - I don't know. You're good at the misdirection, man.
_sharvie_ From: _sharvie_ Date: February 6th, 2005 07:38 am (UTC) (Link)
Okay, I've been staring at the awesome feedback and just been too stunned to respond. (Plus, work has been keeping me busy, so haven't had a lot of time to respond and wanted to say more than just 'Thank you'.)
So, I'm gonna kiss ya!
*snogs Beetle senseless*
Thank you so much! That is some of the best feedback I've ever had. I now understand why some of the more popular authors have problems with responding to feedback. I get it, now!
I still can't believe you found it. Must have been digging through my memories, as it's never been posted to a community.

Again, thank you, oh so much! You summed up the fic better than I ever have. *g*
lit_gal From: lit_gal Date: May 16th, 2005 01:41 am (UTC) (Link)
I love the color imagery, with the fading to black at the end. I love the fact that Xander realizes his mistake only when it's too late. Xander is very in character here, and I both love your writing and hate how insecure he is about himself. And the thought of all those "we survived the apocolypse cards" on the floor when Buffy and the others clean out his apartment....*sob*.

I have a love/hate relationship with this fic, and I love it!
_sharvie_ From: _sharvie_ Date: May 16th, 2005 03:57 am (UTC) (Link)
Whoo-Hoo! I love that you got all that stuff! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!

Yeah, I really played up the color, wanting to point out what was really wrong with that picture. I couldn't be more thrilled that you caught it!

And the aftermath..with the cards, now has double meaning. "We made it...but you didn't." Owie! Even I wasn't that mean!

And love/hate...totally there with you. :-)

Thanks again!
altyronsmaker From: altyronsmaker Date: May 16th, 2005 06:23 am (UTC) (Link)
You killed Xander.

Don't know if I can forgive ya.

But dammit, chicky. I was held captive from the first word. Couldn't believe it when he walked in on Spike and Anya. couldn't believe it when he realized Spike stood in the sun. Couldn't believe it when he went to the roof.

But I believed the crack from the concrete. And the fade to black.

You killed Xander. And, you minx, you made me like it, dang you. :(
_sharvie_ From: _sharvie_ Date: May 16th, 2005 07:37 am (UTC) (Link)
Umm...sorry? ;-)

But I love hearing that kind of response though. It is a real shocker and I wanted the reader to be along for the ride. You picked up on my fav parts though...the sound of hitting the concrete and the fading to black. Squee! Thank you so much!

I won't kill Xander off in every fic, I promise. *crosses fingers behind back*
vichan From: vichan Date: May 16th, 2005 06:28 am (UTC) (Link)
I'm... so... drained, from reading this. I just read it three times, and it's just... chilling.

It's amazing how you used the color - so many different ways, from 'yellow belly coward' to 'fade to black.'

If there is still a bunny in your head to continue this someday, I will feed it greens and hay and carrots and whatever it wants. Nurture the bunny.
_sharvie_ From: _sharvie_ Date: May 16th, 2005 07:44 am (UTC) (Link)
Wow! Thanks! I gave you chills?! Cool! *bounce*

The color, yeah I really pushed that issue. I wanted the reader to be yelling at Xander and saying, "What are you blind?!" but in a subtle way. *g*

And the reason I posted after all this time is I really have no clue if I'll ever get back to this. I had this whole Spander fic planned out and other projects got in the way. Plus I just finished something similar in style for dovil's Mpreg ficathon and I can't post it for a long time...so I posted this instead.

I'm so thrilled you liked it, even though it took a lot out of you. Can I be thrilled about that? I think I will be. *bg* Thank you!
From: jans_intentions Date: May 16th, 2005 06:30 am (UTC) (Link)
Hey, _sharvie_, I had to drop in out of curiosity.

I love your imagery and the first thing I thought was this is something that needs to be reread more than once. You remind me a bit of my dear friend myfeetshowit because she has always walked to a different drummer and her stories require you to be awake and aware and sometimes to read more than once.

She's multi-nominated now, but that's not why that's a compliment. :)

Lovely. I will reread it a few times because it's a bit like diving for pearls in indigo depths.

_sharvie_ From: _sharvie_ Date: May 16th, 2005 08:12 am (UTC) (Link)
Drop in whenever you like! Especially if you plan on leaving fb like that!

I'm honored you thought of your friend while reading...you obviously hold her in high esteem, so I'll cherish the compliment.

I will reread it a few times because it's a bit like diving for pearls in indigo depths. Nice imagery yourself there! I amazed at the wonderful way other people can sum up this fic...often times better than I can...and I wrote the dang thing!

Not to mention that you have a talent with words yourself. I still can't get that image of Xander with hair covering himself out of my head. I think I had a dream about it last night.

So, thank you, very much!

nasty_shrew From: nasty_shrew Date: May 16th, 2005 04:40 pm (UTC) (Link)
Floored by your words, drifting through colour. Beautiful.

*This is Shrew, stunned*.
_sharvie_ From: _sharvie_ Date: May 17th, 2005 02:36 am (UTC) (Link)
Wow! Thank you!
I know that feeling.
*beet red blush*
darkhavens From: darkhavens Date: May 16th, 2005 05:19 pm (UTC) (Link)
Heartbreakingly beautiful and I really do love your use of colour. The description just pulled me in and along, tearing up on the way. ;)
_sharvie_ From: _sharvie_ Date: May 17th, 2005 02:48 am (UTC) (Link)
Thank you! I was so worried it wouldn't be appropriate for bloodclaim. It means a lot that you took a chance!
*huggles Darkhavens*
And this was my darkest, albeit colorful, piece to date...up until dovil's ficathon. Now I have to wait to shock people again. *rubs hands together evilly*
(Deleted comment)
_sharvie_ From: _sharvie_ Date: May 19th, 2005 06:47 am (UTC) (Link)
Wow, thank you! I'm thrilled it effected you so powerfully. *bounce*
sorrelchestnut From: sorrelchestnut Date: June 18th, 2005 04:22 am (UTC) (Link)
oh. my. god.

so. incredibly. good.

I didn't expect the end at all. This was incredible.
_sharvie_ From: _sharvie_ Date: June 18th, 2005 08:37 am (UTC) (Link)
Thank you! I love endings with a twist, and didn't want to give too much away. I'm so thrilled you were surprised! *happy bounce*
myfeetshowit From: myfeetshowit Date: October 29th, 2005 07:52 pm (UTC) (Link)
Since this is a story you wrote a while back most of what I have to say has already been said, so I'm just going to give a couple comparison's that I hope indicate the kind of feeling I got from your story.

Color: When I saw the movie Dick Tracy I was struck by vibrance of color, the hard-edge it gave to everything. Your story has this same shiny brilliance.

Shape: Sin City, the comic book. Frank Miller populated this comic with dark silhouettes and bold lines, and white space shocking against black backgrounds. It made his pictures loom with power.

Your story combined both these aspects, the brilliance of color with the stark contrast of black & white. If that doesn't take talent, I don't know what does.
_sharvie_ From: _sharvie_ Date: October 31st, 2005 05:44 am (UTC) (Link)
Umm, wow! I'm totally speechless! Thank you so much for such wonderful fb! Your comparisons are brilliant! I hadn't had those pieces in mind but now that you mention it, I can really see that! Thank you again!
selene2 From: selene2 Date: January 17th, 2006 04:18 am (UTC) (Link)
I am so thrilled that I read this. So freakin' gorgeous. The whole story is so intense and the imagery so vivid. I was holding my breath to see how this was going to play out.

Fantastic work! Thank you!
_sharvie_ From: _sharvie_ Date: January 17th, 2006 12:47 pm (UTC) (Link)
No, thank you! *bounce* I'm beyond thrilled you really liked this. And calling it vivid and intense...hee! It makes me giddy since that's what I was going for. I can't wait to see what you guys come up with. As you've seen, I have a hard time describing this fic to people.
selene2 From: selene2 Date: January 23rd, 2006 04:40 am (UTC) (Link)
I don't normally do this but I was working on your banner and finished it... then decided that I didn't like it. So I did another one. lol.

I thought that I would post one of the banners over here to give you a choice over which one you liked better. (but thought twice about putting up two choice for you over at banner_grab) I hope that you find one of them to your liking.

I told you I REALLY loved this story right? *grin*

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_sharvie_ From: _sharvie_ Date: January 24th, 2006 09:55 am (UTC) (Link)
Wow! That's...I'm going to try and not say cool a thousand times like before. But wow! *lol* Can I only pick one? Please tell me I get both! *begs* I love both of them for their own special reasons. I love the coloring in this one and the clouds tie in so well with the story as well as the blinds. Plus, like the other piece, you have the characters and relationships highlighted. And this Xander...wow! He looks so haunted. I'd be curious to see which one you preferred because I'm very hard pressed to pick a fav.

Your work is just stunning! Thank you a hundred times over! What you, and your partner, are doing selflessly for the fandom community is wonderful. Just wonderful.
makd From: makd Date: January 27th, 2007 02:01 am (UTC) (Link)
here from the genfic community.

Powerful, frightening, just plain scary.

great job!

Mind if I rec?
_sharvie_ From: _sharvie_ Date: January 28th, 2007 05:10 am (UTC) (Link)
Mind if you rec?! Are you kidding? I love your recs! In fact I have several saved in my memories from way back when...though they're not working now for some reason. *pout* But really, rec all you want! Wow, thanks! *blushes*
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