And part two was even better. This is poetry. I just... don't have the words to say how your words have affected me. You said it so well:
"Instead of coming back together as two men remade, they were struggling back together as two burn victims crawling out of opposite sides of the same fire. And instead of finding their first breaths of fresh air, they were grateful to choke down even the ash and the smoke. Instead of safe and painless at last, they were feeling the slow regrowth of the nerves in their skin, and it hurt like hell."
That's it right there. It's not all right, but it is. I especially like how you make the distinction between 'Sherlock Holmes' and Sherlock, and 'John Watson' and John. It goes along with the whole fairytale of Moriarty/Richard Brook from the first part, and the narrative of existence.
Anyway, this probably wasn't really coherent, but I think it's a brilliant piece.
I popped over and read your rec as well. And i have to say I find you remarkably coherent (both here and there) and, well y'know, damn. I'm glad you read it. I'm glad you liked it. And I'm very grateful to you for taking the time to write up such wonderful and kind things.
You wove a wonderful tale here on the way their time apart changed them, and how because of that, the way they came back together was completely different as well. Very nicely done.
haha, I knew, somehow, that someone was going to like that line b/c I almost cut it. And it's pattern I noticed, that whenever I almost cut a line because I'm not extra fond of it, it's always well-liked.
Anyway, thanks for reading, as you always do. And for saying nice things. :)
Finally watched the series two finale today, sobbed throough Sherlock's death and then jumped up in delight, when he came back, so I had to find fanfiction afterwards. This was delicious and great and just what I needed after the realisation that it's going to be ages until the third series comes out.
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"Instead of coming back together as two men remade, they were struggling back together as two burn victims crawling out of opposite sides of the same fire. And instead of finding their first breaths of fresh air, they were grateful to choke down even the ash and the smoke. Instead of safe and painless at last, they were feeling the slow regrowth of the nerves in their skin, and it hurt like hell."
That's it right there. It's not all right, but it is. I especially like how you make the distinction between 'Sherlock Holmes' and Sherlock, and 'John Watson' and John. It goes along with the whole fairytale of Moriarty/Richard Brook from the first part, and the narrative of existence.
Anyway, this probably wasn't really coherent, but I think it's a brilliant piece.
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I popped over and read your rec as well. And i have to say I find you remarkably coherent (both here and there) and, well y'know, damn. I'm glad you read it. I'm glad you liked it. And I'm very grateful to you for taking the time to write up such wonderful and kind things.
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He walked close enough to the walls to stay hidden and close enough to the lamps to be safe from the other hidden things.
i love your work -- thanks for sharing!
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haha, I knew, somehow, that someone was going to like that line b/c I almost cut it. And it's pattern I noticed, that whenever I almost cut a line because I'm not extra fond of it, it's always well-liked.
Anyway, thanks for reading, as you always do. And for saying nice things. :)
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This was delicious and great and just what I needed after the realisation that it's going to be ages until the third series comes out.
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Happy I could help a fellow in the same foxhole. :P
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