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crack_van2004-11-04 07:54 pm
maverick4oz.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2004-11-04 07:54 pm
Descent by Rowan Fairchild (PG)
Fandom: OZ
Pairing: Augustus Hill
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rowanfairchild
Author Website: Rowan’s fanfiction
Why this must be read:
While I’m a B/K shipper all the way, I also want to take the opportunity this month to point out some phenomenal stories that highlight other Oz characters as well.
In my opinion, Oz would not have been nearly as profound or poignant a show without the character of Augustus Hill. As the omniscient narrator, he led the viewers through the murky world of Oz with intelligence, humor and sarcasm. But it was Hill, the inmate, that truly really struck a cord with me.
And it’s the spirit of that Hill, which Rowan captures so beautifully in this story.
Descent was Rowan’s entry into the lastsecret_ids contest where each writer submits a themed story anonymously and the readers try and guess the author. The theme of the contest was “something is destroyed.” With very few words, Rowan illuminates how horribly sad and frustrating it must be for Hill to be trapped not only inside Oz, but inside a body that no longer functions as well. She lures the readers into his world with an amazing and apt metaphor on running and then leaves them as trapped and helpless as Augustus, himself. Such beauty and such heartbreak.
He has dreams where he can feel his legs.
Vivid, tactile dreams of running. Of freedom.
He's always been a runner. As a child with Mom in the playground, running and laughing with the other children, blissfully unaware that Daddy wasn't coming home from Vietnam. In school, the sprints, fifty-yard dash in 6.5.
Like flying. Freedom.
But that wasn't enough for long. So he was running for Burr — running drugs. Cash in his pocket. Cash for Mom, himself, Annabella. Burr said cash was freedom, and Burr was almost like his dad, now that Daddy was gone. So he ran and he ran, and like in the sprints, he was good.
Descent
If you like the story, please let the author know. Remember this is Oz, so don’t make me shank you.
Pairing: Augustus Hill
Author on LJ:
rowanfairchildAuthor Website: Rowan’s fanfiction
Why this must be read:
While I’m a B/K shipper all the way, I also want to take the opportunity this month to point out some phenomenal stories that highlight other Oz characters as well.
In my opinion, Oz would not have been nearly as profound or poignant a show without the character of Augustus Hill. As the omniscient narrator, he led the viewers through the murky world of Oz with intelligence, humor and sarcasm. But it was Hill, the inmate, that truly really struck a cord with me.
And it’s the spirit of that Hill, which Rowan captures so beautifully in this story.
Descent was Rowan’s entry into the last
secret_ids contest where each writer submits a themed story anonymously and the readers try and guess the author. The theme of the contest was “something is destroyed.” With very few words, Rowan illuminates how horribly sad and frustrating it must be for Hill to be trapped not only inside Oz, but inside a body that no longer functions as well. She lures the readers into his world with an amazing and apt metaphor on running and then leaves them as trapped and helpless as Augustus, himself. Such beauty and such heartbreak. He has dreams where he can feel his legs.
Vivid, tactile dreams of running. Of freedom.
He's always been a runner. As a child with Mom in the playground, running and laughing with the other children, blissfully unaware that Daddy wasn't coming home from Vietnam. In school, the sprints, fifty-yard dash in 6.5.
Like flying. Freedom.
But that wasn't enough for long. So he was running for Burr — running drugs. Cash in his pocket. Cash for Mom, himself, Annabella. Burr said cash was freedom, and Burr was almost like his dad, now that Daddy was gone. So he ran and he ran, and like in the sprints, he was good.
Descent
If you like the story, please let the author know. Remember this is Oz, so don’t make me shank you.