#i feel like i ate a four course breakfast and i'm now excited to dive into the frances hardinge tag for more

[gurguliare]

HAPPY YULETIDE ONE AND ALL READ MY GIFTS

The Aphorist --- Fogg/Passepartout, 5083 words, the 80 Days fic I’ve been dreaming of since 2013. Passepartout wades through several background revolutions (political, maritime, of the heart) and gets his man in the end, mostly by fainting punctually!! I love him!

Monsieur Fogg stood in front of him, not so close that he crowded Passepartout but not so far that Passepartout could not hear him when he asked in a low voice, "Can you walk, my man?"  

There was an argument going on behind them, the thug being chastised for strangling guests. Passepartout took Monsieur Fogg's meaning.

"I can, Monsieur," he nodded, not entirely sure he could but inclined to try. From the creeping heat across his skin Passepartout was certain there would soon be impressive bruises around his neck. He would rather not gain any more.

Passepartout straightened and Monsieur Fogg looked at him. Appraising, Passepartout thought. His master did not look entirely satisfied with what he saw, but he tipped his head to the west and turned his attention towards the horizon. Passepartout supposed he had been deemed sufficiently upright.

Song for an Old Friend --- Aria & Cass, background Aria/Jacqui, 1637 words. I received two stories this year about Aria going to the sic-semper-tyrannus museum and crying her angry eyes out, and I’ve never felt luckier. This is the one where she goes Incognito as A Boring Person and calls the head of OriCon on her way home; I also love Aria Joie.

"Do you want me to come?" asked Jacqui from behind her, still lying in bed. Jacqui slept in most days, allowed herself the luxury of laziness that hadn't been afforded to her before. Sometimes, Aria allowed herself to do the same.

"No," she answered honestly, still looking at her own reflection. She had developed wrinkles - crows feet under her eyes, smile lines around her mouth. They would be easy to get rid of - getting rid of wrinkles was as easy as dyeing your hair - but Aria thought she might like to keep them. It was... nice, seeing those signs of her own age. Growing old had never been on her mind, so it was a pleasant surprise to see it happening. Jacqui was getting them too, laugh lines and crows feet and creasing around her forehead - and they had never talked about it, but she was pretty sure she felt the same.

"I need to go alone," she continued, still taking in her own reflection.

And last but in no way least: Three Doorways, an ensemble piece whose very title appeals shamelessly to my C/W kinks, thank you author; 1219 words. Featuring a more ambivalent museum visit and Mako and Orth’s respective Cass- and Ibex-hangovers; it’s possible I just adore everyone in this bar.

The next stop is a factory inspection out near Wreathe. The missive from the management doesn't call for an on-site visit but, hey, Orth likes the travel. He's on his way to being the most well-traveled man in the Golden Branch Sector. The voice in his head that sounds like Attar—Ibex, Orth thinks, spitefully, then, Attar, half-apologetically—notes that if he were a small fish in a small pond on Counterweight, this glimpse into the vast sprawl of Oricon is like being dumped into an ocean. And is a fish anything more than a drop to the ocean?

 But that's fine, Orth thinks. He never aspired to rule empires, corporate or otherwise. It's fine. He likes the travel.

#friends at the table #counterweight #80 days #kisses fingers licks chops #i feel like i ate a four course breakfast and i'm now excited to dive into the frances hardinge tag for more #IT'S THE MOST LUCRATIVE TIME OF YEAR