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crack_van2013-10-31 08:25 pm
cybermathwitch.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2013-10-31 08:25 pm
Entry tags:
Li.ber.tas by Anuna (R)
Well, it's that time again - the Helicarrier is coming in for a landing to refuel and have some maintenance and a crew change. I've had a blast reccing this month, and I hope y'all have found some great new stories to read. Happy Halloween!
Fandom: THE AVENGERS (MOVIEVERSE)
Pairing: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Length: 3,671
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
anuna_81
Author Website: LJ or AO3
Why this must be read:
This story has so many things going for it I'm not sure where to begin. Anuna paints emotions with words in a way that gives the story a real presence. The story is set in her home country of Croatia, and she manages to highlight cities and landscapes to better illuminate where both characters are on their own inner landscape. Natasha's conscious choices about what to bring and where to go, the way that she methodically does everything she's learned from her own experience to try and help Clint through his ordeal with Loki is brilliant. She does the same thing with music and Natasha's experience of it. The character introspection is effortless but spot on, it's quiet, but the narrative voice is one of the best Natasha's I've run across.
Only the destination is new. Other things are meticulously planned and picked; worn and familiar clothes, his and hers alike; shoes they've worn in and books they've both read. Things that they both know, safe memories that don't reside on minefields.
She has his mixtape of all country horrors to settle with through the long hours of her drive. Beside her Clint snores softly, and somehow that works to calm her.
She listens to his music – Johnny Cash, Rolling Stones, Lynnard Skynnard and a long, long list of country performers she never heard of. Clint's taste in music, in her honest opinion, is more or less awful. It's not the only thing they just don't agree on, or the only thing where their personal tastes differ. He likes his music the way he likes his cars; there has to be an old fashioned and bit battered, with just enough power. He like when it means something, when it speaks to him in some way. Natasha likes the music that doesn't take away her focus from other, more important things. She enjoys some music, sometimes, but she doesn't really need it. To her it's simply sound to fill the silence. To Clint it's a whole different affair; she could swear he has a relationship with some songs to match this thing between them. She certainly doesn't listen to music like Clint does, and while the car rolls through the night she heads for the old road rather than the highway. Nothing on this journey can be quickened.
She concentrates on the road, but the songs are persistently occupying her mind. How does one even begin listening to something sentimental like country in the first place? She glances at Clint from time to time, he is finally asleep and she muses about that for some time. Sometimes the distance helps, sometimes what one needs is to run away. She frowns at her thought, it sounds too much like something from one of these songs. The road stretches in front of her and she concentrates on the signs, checking the road map from time to time. She's been here before, but everything is different in the darkness. Everything is misplaced. It rolls in front of her, in front of them and all around them, and she heads on forward, steering them both, determined to find a horizon.
*
The sun starts to rise when she's in the mountains. She's passed Gračac by now, she's heading out of the barren, scorched hills made of stone and for the promise of blue. In just a few hours everything will burn around her; the stone and the sky alike, and there will be no shade to take cover.
Six years ago, this was a perfect hiding place for her. A country that was constantly struggling to repair itself and rise from the ashes. Natasha assumes this hasn't changed much, some places just look prettier. But not these places. She regards small towns they pass through, houses scattered around the hills, places that look abandoned and forgotten. It feels like the war had ended but never really left this area, hanging in the air like an old, sullen ghost. A child looks at the car as she drives past. There's something on his face that makes her press the gas just a bit more.
She pauses in Knin to buy newspaper, bagels; some fruit and water. The city is a striking landmark towering over hills and valleys around. The woman in the store obviously guesses Natasha is a foreigner, offers her a few more things, but Natasha politely declines. She never liked this town in particular. The fortress stands strong around the old city, but the breath of war constantly lingers like a phantom pain. The point of origin, she thinks. How could anyone forget that?
Clint is still asleep when she puts the groceries in the back of the car and gets going. Natasha rolls the window down and turns up the music just a bit more. Now she's the one needing distraction.
Li.ber.tas AO3 or LJ
Author's Summary: They say, when you travel long enough, you finally end up running into yourself.
Fandom: THE AVENGERS (MOVIEVERSE)
Pairing: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Length: 3,671
Author on LJ:
anuna_81Author Website: LJ or AO3
Why this must be read:
This story has so many things going for it I'm not sure where to begin. Anuna paints emotions with words in a way that gives the story a real presence. The story is set in her home country of Croatia, and she manages to highlight cities and landscapes to better illuminate where both characters are on their own inner landscape. Natasha's conscious choices about what to bring and where to go, the way that she methodically does everything she's learned from her own experience to try and help Clint through his ordeal with Loki is brilliant. She does the same thing with music and Natasha's experience of it. The character introspection is effortless but spot on, it's quiet, but the narrative voice is one of the best Natasha's I've run across.
Only the destination is new. Other things are meticulously planned and picked; worn and familiar clothes, his and hers alike; shoes they've worn in and books they've both read. Things that they both know, safe memories that don't reside on minefields.
She has his mixtape of all country horrors to settle with through the long hours of her drive. Beside her Clint snores softly, and somehow that works to calm her.
She listens to his music – Johnny Cash, Rolling Stones, Lynnard Skynnard and a long, long list of country performers she never heard of. Clint's taste in music, in her honest opinion, is more or less awful. It's not the only thing they just don't agree on, or the only thing where their personal tastes differ. He likes his music the way he likes his cars; there has to be an old fashioned and bit battered, with just enough power. He like when it means something, when it speaks to him in some way. Natasha likes the music that doesn't take away her focus from other, more important things. She enjoys some music, sometimes, but she doesn't really need it. To her it's simply sound to fill the silence. To Clint it's a whole different affair; she could swear he has a relationship with some songs to match this thing between them. She certainly doesn't listen to music like Clint does, and while the car rolls through the night she heads for the old road rather than the highway. Nothing on this journey can be quickened.
She concentrates on the road, but the songs are persistently occupying her mind. How does one even begin listening to something sentimental like country in the first place? She glances at Clint from time to time, he is finally asleep and she muses about that for some time. Sometimes the distance helps, sometimes what one needs is to run away. She frowns at her thought, it sounds too much like something from one of these songs. The road stretches in front of her and she concentrates on the signs, checking the road map from time to time. She's been here before, but everything is different in the darkness. Everything is misplaced. It rolls in front of her, in front of them and all around them, and she heads on forward, steering them both, determined to find a horizon.
*
The sun starts to rise when she's in the mountains. She's passed Gračac by now, she's heading out of the barren, scorched hills made of stone and for the promise of blue. In just a few hours everything will burn around her; the stone and the sky alike, and there will be no shade to take cover.
Six years ago, this was a perfect hiding place for her. A country that was constantly struggling to repair itself and rise from the ashes. Natasha assumes this hasn't changed much, some places just look prettier. But not these places. She regards small towns they pass through, houses scattered around the hills, places that look abandoned and forgotten. It feels like the war had ended but never really left this area, hanging in the air like an old, sullen ghost. A child looks at the car as she drives past. There's something on his face that makes her press the gas just a bit more.
She pauses in Knin to buy newspaper, bagels; some fruit and water. The city is a striking landmark towering over hills and valleys around. The woman in the store obviously guesses Natasha is a foreigner, offers her a few more things, but Natasha politely declines. She never liked this town in particular. The fortress stands strong around the old city, but the breath of war constantly lingers like a phantom pain. The point of origin, she thinks. How could anyone forget that?
Clint is still asleep when she puts the groceries in the back of the car and gets going. Natasha rolls the window down and turns up the music just a bit more. Now she's the one needing distraction.
Li.ber.tas AO3 or LJ
Author's Summary: They say, when you travel long enough, you finally end up running into yourself.