And a beatiful fic it is. *sigh*
The next writer to step up to the gurney?
burnitbackwards, whose lj name I envy. Wish I'd though it up first, but of course I never would have. Great name. Great addition. And following The Spike's lead in, she brings us a great character. I've always "liked" Helen, in an "okay, so she's not Clark-in-Lex's-bed, but can you have too many villains in the DC-verse?" way. (Don't look too closely at that sentence. In fact, run from it.) With Helen we get all kinds of interesting plot opportunities, and I can't help but wonder if the next fic-voice is out there RIGHT NOW making something happen that we'll soon get to read. *rubs hands together like Dr. Evil* Thank you so much, burnitbackwards, for continuing the trend of smart writing and cool plotting.
Here's an excerpt from
burnitbackwards:
"She starts to circle him, heels tapping on the floor, and it crosses Lex's mind that this is probably the exact same sound a vulture's claws would make if its next meal happened to be splayed on linoleum tile.
She stops at the opposite side of the gurney and places a hand lightly at Lex's elbow, and he's still too weak or shocked or totally out of his mind to even think about moving it. He tries to speak again, managing a hoarse noise, nothing like an actual word, but Helen seems to understand anyway and nods her head slowly, her face screwing up into mock-sympathy.
'Yes, Lex, I know, honey. I know you've had your people trying to find me for the past four months, but by the time they caught up with me, you'd already begun having your little psychotic tantrums,' she laughs, rolling her eyes. 'Really, Lex. You couldn't expect them to stay loyal to you while you were here, could you? Not while you're locked up like some sort of lunatic.'"
*whistles "Don't Fear the Reaper"*
As to moderating, even when given excellent suggestions and simple directions to follow, apparently my style when faced with making decisions is to behave very much like Homer Simpson at the console of the nuclear plant. Any donuts left? What alarms? I don't hear any alarms. Mmmmmmmm. Food. And beer. Want beer. Will make decisions and take necessary action later. After donuts and beer.
The next writer to step up to the gurney?
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Here's an excerpt from
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
"She starts to circle him, heels tapping on the floor, and it crosses Lex's mind that this is probably the exact same sound a vulture's claws would make if its next meal happened to be splayed on linoleum tile.
She stops at the opposite side of the gurney and places a hand lightly at Lex's elbow, and he's still too weak or shocked or totally out of his mind to even think about moving it. He tries to speak again, managing a hoarse noise, nothing like an actual word, but Helen seems to understand anyway and nods her head slowly, her face screwing up into mock-sympathy.
'Yes, Lex, I know, honey. I know you've had your people trying to find me for the past four months, but by the time they caught up with me, you'd already begun having your little psychotic tantrums,' she laughs, rolling her eyes. 'Really, Lex. You couldn't expect them to stay loyal to you while you were here, could you? Not while you're locked up like some sort of lunatic.'"
*whistles "Don't Fear the Reaper"*
As to moderating, even when given excellent suggestions and simple directions to follow, apparently my style when faced with making decisions is to behave very much like Homer Simpson at the console of the nuclear plant. Any donuts left? What alarms? I don't hear any alarms. Mmmmmmmm. Food. And beer. Want beer. Will make decisions and take necessary action later. After donuts and beer.