Procrastinating for a Good Cause
Feedback fic from the one and only Alicia
McKenzie!
"You're being very, very bad. You KNOW that."
Alicia looked up from the computer screen and straight at the figment of her imagination lounging against the cubicle. "And you're wearing leather again, Clio," she muttered at the black leather-clad, whip-wielding personification of the classical muse of historical poetry that her mind had come up with some time ago on a day that had started too early and included far too many jumbo-sized iced cappuccinos--
"Still not over the caffeine addiction yet?"
"Oh, shut up," Alicia growled, hunching in her chair and typing determinedly. "I'm writing feedback. How often do I do that? I'm a terrible, terrible excuse for a feedback-writer, so don't bitch at me when I finally decide to sit down and make up for it."
"I'm not bitching at you because you're writing feedback," Clio said with a reasonable smile. "I'm bitching at you because you're writing it NOW." She looked upwards thoughtfully, in the direction of the fourth floor. "You're a tease."
"What?"
"You went through the WHOLE Digest today, and then put the Code back on the shelf. It's sitting up there crying, you know." Clio gave her a reproachful look. "Can't you hear it? 'But Alicia, I'm so much more useful! Don't waste your time with that muddled excuse for a compendium of pre-Constantinean law! Read me! Love me!'"
"You are so full of it," Alicia pronounced.
"Oh, probably," Clio said happily, draping herself over the back of the chair. "So what's new with this mailing list that takes you away from all these fascinating law codes and all the wonderful Latin translation you should be doing? Not to mention the German grammar review, and the Greek--"
"I'm not falling for it," Alicia said, staring fixedly at the screen. "You are not going to make me fall for it."
"It'll work in the end," Clio pointed out gleefully. "Guilt always does, with you. So, what's this first story on your list?"
"'When The Sun Rose'," Alicia said, seizing on the change of topic swiftly. "One of Mel's. It's so nice to see her writing again, especially when it's gorgeous, character-driven slash--damn, it made ME want to hug Alex."
"Well-written, then?"
"Well, DUH, demigoddess'o'mine. It's Mel." Alicia grinned. "I don't know many people who can combine humor and depth like she can. It's such a balance, but she's always pulling it off beautifully."
Clio pouted, reading over Alicia's shoulder. "And this one? More Alex...and Sam...Zeus's balls, Alicia, can't you write me a nice cute blond to play with? One of these would do."
"Clio!"
"Well, do you think it's fun, existing only to nag you? I want a sex life," Clio said wistfully. "Even if it's just a little one."
"Ummm...." Alicia swallowed, and turned back to the screen. "Story. Right. Dia's story. 'Make It Okay'. Next on the list."
"Ooh, this one has plot all over the place, too," Clio squealed with delight. "Plot AND cute blonds."
"And great characterization," Alicia pointed out swiftly, before Clio could go off on a tangent. "I mean, obviously, that's a given. Dia does the Summers clan like no one else I know--" Alicia paused, eyes going very wide as she digested the innuendo potential of that statement. "Um. Dia WRITES the Summers clan, is what I meant to say."
"Oh, sure. I know what you meant."
"Shut up, Clio," Alicia grumbled. "I'm being serious! Look--every single one of them fleshed out like real people! Even the ones like Deborah, who really don't have much of a personality in the X-books." Alicia paused, and giggled again over the hair salon line. "And I have to admit, I'm tickled by her Cable portrayal--"
"'Me Chosen One, you peasant,'" Clio snickered. "I'll have to remember that to tell Ed."
"Interacting like real people," Alicia continued determinedly. "One big wonderful dysfunctional family. I mean, look at this! Scott and Alex's talk about Corsair--the Mutant-X Maddie and Alex acting like real parents--even the whole 'grace' scene. I love it." Alicia grins. "Yet another incentive to get my general X-archive up. I keep seeing these stories I want so badly to archive--" Alicia moved along to her next story, humming to herself. "Okay. Lyss's latest. 'Kilted Apologies'."
Clio suddenly fell over onto the floor, laughing hysterically. "Wisdom in a KILT? I love it! I LOVE IT!"
Alica giggled helplessly. "So did I."
Clio sprang up, kneeling beside Alicia's chair and looking up at her beseechingly. "That's what you can do. Write me into a little snippet with Wisdom in a kilt."
Alicia blinked. "I thought you liked blonds."
"But it's--WISDOM! In a kilt!"
"And he's apologizing to Kitty," Alicia said firmly. "Reconciling. You know. Although I've got to admit that's the most unusual Pryde/Wisdom reconciliation story I've ever read--"
"So? Kitty doesn't have to know. Just write me into a little snippet," Clio pleaded. "I have a--thing for scruffy-looking grumpy men." She grinned sheepishly. "It's why Ed hasn't been shaving lately, don't you know--"
"ARRRGH!"
Clio blinked as Alicia dove beneath the computer table, whimpering. "What's wrong with you?"
"TMI, TMI! I did NOT want to know that figments of my imagination are getting it on!" Alicia peeked back out, looking desperate. "Would you just go on to the next story? I'm hiding from the mental images."
"Okay," Clio said amiably. "Ah. Next story is two stories, by the same author. Part eight of 'Saying Yes' and 'Thank God' by Siarade. Ooh, I recognize that name--"
"Okay," Alicia said, still a little wildly. "Type what I tell you."
"All right."
"'Dear Siarade. I regret to inform you--"
"That you've gotten too good," Clio murmured amusedly.
Alicia gave her a baleful look. "'--that you've blown me away, yet again. Aren't you getting bored of doing that, yet?'" Alicia coughed. "Okay, stick in a winky-face. Continuing--'Couldn't you write something that doesn't make me--'"
"'Turn emerald green with envy and go back to work on the Siarade-shrine in the corner of my bedroom?'" Clio asked innocently.
"'--completely incapable of writing feedback that's anything but slavish adoration,'" Alicia said grumpily. "Stop being cute, Clio. Continuing. Insert a period, then go on with 'Both of these were incredibly written, as always, and 'Thank God' was particularly wonderful. Serious, yet sweet, original, yet realistic. I'm running out of adjectives, but I loved it, and read it three times the day it was posted.'"
"Aww," Clio said.
"Oh, shut up."
"Is that the postscript?"
"NO!" Alicia coughed, flushing, and crawling out from under the table. "What's left?"
"QueenB, 'The Maid Of Orleans'." Clio started to read, her expression going distant and fascinating. "Oh," she said, after a few minutes. "Oh, my."
Alicia couldn't help a smile. "I thought you'd like that one. Sort of right up your alley, no?"
"Oh, yes. What an excellent choice of historical figures to involve with the Endless," Clio said enthusiastically. "And the whole piece has the right FEEL to it--Joan's myth is as much the reality as the historical facts, you know."
"Gorgeously written, too," Alicia said with a wistful sigh. "I love its lyrical style--"
Clio beamed. "Historical poetry?"
"In a way, I guess," Alicia giggled. "With a little post-modern mythopoesis stuck in for good measure. That's the list, isn't it?"
"Yep," Clio said with relish. "That is the list. You know what that means, don't you?" She fixed Alicia with a stern look. "You do know what that means."
Standing beside the cubicle, Alicia smiled a little sheepishly, shifting from foot to foot like a kid who had to go to the bathroom. "Yeah," she said, very carefully, leaning over and picking up her backpack. "I guess I do."
Clio raised an eyebrow. Alicia giggled, and bolted for the doors.
"Oh, no, you don't!"
"Oh, yes, I DO!"
"Don't you dare!"
"Just WATCH ME!"
The glass door swung open wildly, and Alicia gave a whoop of triumph as she emerged into the somewhat-fresh air. Clio stopped, sighing, unable to help a wry smile at the somewhat bemused look the librarian gave the retreating back of the delinquent Ph.D. student.
"FREEEEDOM!!!!!"
"Cute," Clio muttered. "Very cute."
Behind her, the elevator pinged, and she looked over as the door slid open and six blue-bound books, all embossed in silver with the inscription Corpus Iuris Civilis wandered out on stubby legs.
"She LEFT?" wailed one of the thicker ones, marked 'Code, XXVII-XXXVI'.
"She left," Clio said.
"Well, that nasty little bitch," pouted 'Code XI-XXVI'.
'Digest I-VII' snickered. "Hey, she knows what side her panis is buttered on."
"If you don't stop, I'm leaving you all for the Theodosian Code!" boomed 'The Twelve Tables, Opinions of Ulpian, Institutiones of Gaius'.
Clio sighed. Leaning over the keyboard, she hit 'send', and then went to herd the Corpus Iuris Civilis back into the elevator.
Yes, I'm quite mad, why do you ask? ;)
The stories, once again, in no particular order:
When The Sun Rose by Mel.
The Maid Of Orleans by queenB.
Make It Okay by Diamonde.
Part 8 of Saying Yes and Thank God by Siarade.
Kilted Apologies by Ana Lyssie Cotton.
Read them all. Send feedback. All of these wonderful writers deserve all they can get. :)
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