I have many things to say about this, not all of them intelligent, most of them consisting of excited flailing, but this work deserves more than my fits of incoherent squeeing. First of all, HOW DARE YOU. Second of all, THANK YOU FOR WRITING THIS.
This was a roller-coaster from start to finish, but the most infuriating and crafted one, with a view on the landscape to boot. I loved the characterization, the intelligence and distress of those glorious women, always under the surface, despite the horror of everything collapsing around them, their patience and tenderness, their memories and steeliness. I loved the triumph of hope and comprehension embodied by Michael at the final, long-awaited encounter. I loved the way you depicted the Klingons, not barbarians or zealots, but shrewd, albeit extreme, soldiers, with just enough alieness and familiarity to sell them to me in a way the show didn’t manage. I loved the politics of your fic, its chaos, brutality and subtlety. I loved Lursa and Mogh and their little monstrous family. I love the way you have of sowing seeds, subtly threading plot points, like introducing the veqlargh, Kat’s gene grafts taking effect, Philippa’s memory grafts, Lursa’s and Mogh’s defection, because suspense is a thousand times better than surprise. Although Georgiou was a surprise and normally I should curse anyone inflicting such pain on any of my favourite characters, but it’s not like the show didn’t already brutally kill her and turn her into a full course. So I loved that you brought Georgiou back. More or less Georgiou. Georgiou without her pretty hair and with a monstrous arm. I loved that you abode by the rule of paying a price for cheating death. I loved that this price, for the two women, meant becoming stronger and less settled in regard to the war. I loved your use of Shakespeare throughout, letting bloom the theatre of blood essence and political violence. I loved your returning again and again to how weighed Lorca’s attack on Kat was (I SCREAMED WHEN SHE WIPED OFF HER HANDS ON HIM), how a man strangling a woman draws the first blood. I loved the story of Kat and Philippa meeting for the first time thanks to another woman. I loved that the women prisoners proved the more resilient. I loved Tilly and her misguided “have fun”. I loved the way you balanced Michael’s dual culture. I loved the prosthetic arm. I loved the streamlined writing, short sentences, full punch when needed – so very fitting of mind as sharp as Kat and Philippa’s.
I loved everything.
I will probably come back to this review and detail exactly why I loved it so much. It’s already late here and I wasted times doodling instead of reviewing because the image of those warriors needed to come out:
Thank you for sharing this. It was a joy, darkly, and sorry for the mess of a comment.
Favourite lines: She put her hands up, stared at them, then shuddered and wiped the sticky vitreous humour on his shirt. "Get your damn eyes fixed," she whispered, and she laughed and sobbed until someone produced a hypospray and sedated her. I HAVE THINGS TO SAY ABOUT MEN LIKE LORCA WEARING THEIR SCARS LIKE TROPHIES RATHER THAN COMMEMORATIVE PLATES BUT I’M STILL SCREAMING ABOUT KAT’S WIPING HER HANDS OFF THE KLINGON’S EYEBALL ON HIM
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This was a roller-coaster from start to finish, but the most infuriating and crafted one, with a view on the landscape to boot. I loved the characterization, the intelligence and distress of those glorious women, always under the surface, despite the horror of everything collapsing around them, their patience and tenderness, their memories and steeliness. I loved the triumph of hope and comprehension embodied by Michael at the final, long-awaited encounter. I loved the way you depicted the Klingons, not barbarians or zealots, but shrewd, albeit extreme, soldiers, with just enough alieness and familiarity to sell them to me in a way the show didn’t manage. I loved the politics of your fic, its chaos, brutality and subtlety. I loved Lursa and Mogh and their little monstrous family. I love the way you have of sowing seeds, subtly threading plot points, like introducing the veqlargh, Kat’s gene grafts taking effect, Philippa’s memory grafts, Lursa’s and Mogh’s defection, because suspense is a thousand times better than surprise. Although Georgiou was a surprise and normally I should curse anyone inflicting such pain on any of my favourite characters, but it’s not like the show didn’t already brutally kill her and turn her into a full course. So I loved that you brought Georgiou back. More or less Georgiou. Georgiou without her pretty hair and with a monstrous arm. I loved that you abode by the rule of paying a price for cheating death. I loved that this price, for the two women, meant becoming stronger and less settled in regard to the war. I loved your use of Shakespeare throughout, letting bloom the theatre of blood essence and political violence. I loved your returning again and again to how weighed Lorca’s attack on Kat was (I SCREAMED WHEN SHE WIPED OFF HER HANDS ON HIM), how a man strangling a woman draws the first blood. I loved the story of Kat and Philippa meeting for the first time thanks to another woman. I loved that the women prisoners proved the more resilient. I loved Tilly and her misguided “have fun”. I loved the way you balanced Michael’s dual culture. I loved the prosthetic arm. I loved the streamlined writing, short sentences, full punch when needed – so very fitting of mind as sharp as Kat and Philippa’s.
I loved everything.
I will probably come back to this review and detail exactly why I loved it so much. It’s already late here and I wasted times doodling instead of reviewing because the image of those warriors needed to come out:
Thank you for sharing this. It was a joy, darkly, and sorry for the mess of a comment.
Favourite lines: She put her hands up, stared at them, then shuddered and wiped the sticky vitreous humour on his shirt. "Get your damn eyes fixed," she whispered, and she laughed and sobbed until someone produced a hypospray and sedated her. I HAVE THINGS TO SAY ABOUT MEN LIKE LORCA WEARING THEIR SCARS LIKE TROPHIES RATHER THAN COMMEMORATIVE PLATES BUT I’M STILL SCREAMING ABOUT KAT’S WIPING HER HANDS OFF THE KLINGON’S EYEBALL ON HIM