crack_van | The Goldhawk Social Club by RedStarRobot (PG-13)

I apologize for the delay of today's (or rather yesterday's) rec, technical difficulties now sorted out.

Fandom: Farscape
Pairing: References to John/Aeryn
Author on LJ:

redstarrobot
Author Website: None that I know of.
Why this must be read:

RedStarRobot was one of the five finalists for "best new writer" in last year's Sparky Awards, and in my opinion it's easy to tell why. She has a flair for short, intense, atmospheric pieces, getting right into a character's head and creating amazing word-pictures that suck you in utterly.

Her unique approach to things is clearly evidenced by this, her response to

farscapefriday's challenge for "Zombies". I won't say too much more than that, for it would spoil the fun, but I will add that given some of the things that happen in Farscape canon, the crew of Moya somehow ending up in the seedier parts of 60's London is not only plausible but frighteningly probable.

Red's John Crichton narration is dense and perfect. Even the lapses into Britspeak seem perfectly John, a reaction to the situation. And true to John, whatever the situation, it's All About Aeryn.

The phantom of the bloody opera was crouching at his feet and eyeing his girl. His girl if she ever spoke to him, maybe – oh yeah, John Crichton, Intergalactic Man of Mystery, was going places. Groovy places. “Yo, Stark. What happened to your bit of skirt? Your very... tiny... bit of skirt.”

Stark tore his eyes away from Aeryn. “Yes, that's it! She told me! She told me. Zy-limbron. In the solid form. Here, tonight.”

“Zy... limbron.” Man, he just didn't know about Stark's taste in women anymore.

And there was that bouncy nodding. “Yes! Not alive. But not crossed. Not at peace.”

“You mean... no, Astro, look, this is London, not Night of the Living Dead. I know it's confusing, but the main difference between the two is that London exists.” He didn't know how or why he and London were existing in the same place, true, but after four or five beers, it didn't matter. “And has fewer fatal trowel accidents.”

It's funny, but it's also bittersweet; it's groovy, but also strangely dark. It's short but filling; it doesn't explain what's going on but somehow doesn't need to. It's 60's London on a Saturday night, Farscape-style.

The Goldhawk Social Club