(Untitled)

Oct 05, 2003 22:03

Sands/El, R.

i. )

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suzebii2 October 5 2003, 20:00:06 UTC
he feels the unfamiliar swelling in the back of his throat, and liquid hotness pushing behind his phantom eyeballs, and when nothing happens he realizes that he can't cry. his tear ducts are damaged beyond repair, and he grips the edge of the sink, white-knuckled.

Holy fuck on a burrito, woman. They're both amazing, but the last one had me. It made me. I was going. And I was like.

Words, I'm sure they'll come to me in a minute.

Okay. I like how you capture the sensation of being blind, the facts and the tragedies of it. No eyeballs. Christ. Of course it bothers him.

These snippets are beautiful, though. Nightmare beautiful.

And you are the BOMB DIGGETY.

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Beast! peccavium October 6 2003, 18:02:09 UTC
So that I don't go ridiculously overboard with the squee, I'll numeralise how wonderful I found this:

01. Sands' and El's very well understood voices. Ugh, I can barely stomache Antonio IRL, but him saying "I don't care" in that way, in this situation- hunnah nunnah nah! You've done a great job with the dialogue, not only is it powerful but it seems canon.

02. The intro paragraph of part ii. Shadowed sands with its billowing black curtain (going from memory, maybe fucked that up). Wow. Beautiful. =bows to you, lickz ya boots while down there=

03. When you write something to the effect of "spray from an everlasting fountain", and then you turn right around and write that the fountain dies. I missed the irony the first, even the second time through, but wah! So wonderful! I don't try to guess at what you're thoughts on this are, but it makes me think of bleakness, hope, moving on. The fuckin fic has made a sappy w00b out of me. =smites you=

04. The ending. Perfection.

Like the rest of it.

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