So my first reaction was capslocked keysmashing. Then my second reaction was...capslocked keysmashing. Let's see if the third time is the charm as far as coherence.
I kind of love this insane amounts. Or perhaps sane ones, Tsuzuki's kind of sanity, with that fierce, intense focus. One of the first things that struck me is how very peripheral Muraki is to what happens; he's the reason for Oriya as a target, but Tsuzuki's thought process bears out his assertion that this is for him. And gives lie to the assertion that it's not for Hisoka, which I also loved. Just as Muraki canonically equates Hisoka with himself in a number of ways, this Tsuzuki seems to do the same, and that's just so right that I can feel it slipping into the shape of the fandom in my head and connecting some dangling threads. That's just brilliant.
I adore that it's so clear this is Tsuzuki sane, as sane as he is capable of being now, because he thinks of himself as mad (and oh, the subtle allusion to Hamlet tickles me). I adore how Oriya's mental state parallels and foils Tsuzuki's, the acceptance and the anger that he's burying, how his reaction to Hisoka tells the reader so much, because it can't help but make one think of Tsuzuki's reaction to Hisoka, and Muraki's, and what that led to. I am absolutely taken with Tatsumi and Hisoka's layered, oblique conversation, which I hope you knew writing it would be such a treat for me. *G* I am filled with glee that every scene of this story is so necessary and understated, that every character can be read as Tsuzuki's shadow selves, that the story is full of things that are bitter, and things that burn, and how beautiful both of those are even as they are so, so horrible.
This is glorious, and I am so lucky to have even a small part in its writing.
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Date: 2009-07-20 12:01 am (UTC)I kind of love this insane amounts. Or perhaps sane ones, Tsuzuki's kind of sanity, with that fierce, intense focus. One of the first things that struck me is how very peripheral Muraki is to what happens; he's the reason for Oriya as a target, but Tsuzuki's thought process bears out his assertion that this is for him. And gives lie to the assertion that it's not for Hisoka, which I also loved. Just as Muraki canonically equates Hisoka with himself in a number of ways, this Tsuzuki seems to do the same, and that's just so right that I can feel it slipping into the shape of the fandom in my head and connecting some dangling threads. That's just brilliant.
I adore that it's so clear this is Tsuzuki sane, as sane as he is capable of being now, because he thinks of himself as mad (and oh, the subtle allusion to Hamlet tickles me). I adore how Oriya's mental state parallels and foils Tsuzuki's, the acceptance and the anger that he's burying, how his reaction to Hisoka tells the reader so much, because it can't help but make one think of Tsuzuki's reaction to Hisoka, and Muraki's, and what that led to. I am absolutely taken with Tatsumi and Hisoka's layered, oblique conversation, which I hope you knew writing it would be such a treat for me. *G* I am filled with glee that every scene of this story is so necessary and understated, that every character can be read as Tsuzuki's shadow selves, that the story is full of things that are bitter, and things that burn, and how beautiful both of those are even as they are so, so horrible.
This is glorious, and I am so lucky to have even a small part in its writing.