blamebrampton: 15th century woodcut of a hound (Default)
I blame [livejournal.com profile] sansa1970 and [livejournal.com profile] calanthe_fics for me writing for Darkfest. It went like this:

Me: Fests are exhausting! And they suck my will to live! And they mean that I never finish my WIPs, and people are beginning to ... suggest that I ought to.
Cal: Oh WOW! Darkfest! It looks BRILLIANT! I am SO writing for that!
Sansa: YES YES YES! What a great idea for a Fest, and it looks as though it will be run calmly and collectedly! I'm doing it, you should too, flist!
Me: No, no, no, oh, all right.

This is why I don't hang out with Hare Krishnas, in case you've ever wondered.

Cal and Sansa are both dreadful enablers, and the fact that they were able to write brilliant fics well before the deadline makes me think I shall send them coal for Christmas.

Having said that, they were both very right in suggesting that it would be a brilliant fest. The mod, the redoubtable [livejournal.com profile] melusinahp , was relaxed, and encouraging. I think she must have had a bit of a giggle when I suggested that I would easily be able to wrap up my fic while preparing to travel and learn Italian and working a couple of extra contracts. She was quite right. Oh the lateness ...

So, as to the actual fic … Look, it's not particularly scary. And that's not because I wanted to be soft, it's because to my mind the darkest things we do to each other are the casual, lazy, everyday things that ignore each other's humanity. If I had to sum it up in one phrase, it would be the one that I heard from an old family friend when I was little, and have heard from many other sources since: 'We thought we were German, and then, apparently, we weren't.'

This was why I was automatically drawn to the Marauders' era, because how do you cling to humanity during a time of civil destruction? Was all that casual cruelty really because they were self-important prats? Or were they just externalising the themes that underpinned their whole society?

Rowling leaves so many tantalising hints as to their stories that it's impossible not to be interested, even if it's just a will to see James Potter and Sirius Black fall flat on their snotty faces at some point. And that's what this is, really, some 30,000-odd words of trying to work out why, and how, it all happened.


Title: Of Great Price
Author/Artist: blamebrampton
Pairing(s)/Characters: Sirius/Remus, James and Lily Potter, Peter Pettigrew, First Order of the Phoenix, Original Death Eaters and sundry Black relatives in supporting roles.
Summary: Truth is the first casualty of war. And when we lose our trust in those we love, what reason do they have to hold onto theirs?
Prompt:
Alas! In a garden I lost it, let
It go to the ground on a grassy plot.
Bereft of love, I am racked by regret
For Pearl, my own Pearl without a spot.

-- Pearl Poet

Rating: M
Word count: ~ 30,000
Warnings: Death by the bucketload.
Author notes: The arms blazoned are from the Black crest in the film version, as I could find no canon version in the books. I am not an expert, so please feel free to point out errors! I intentionally moved Caradoc Dearborn’s death from the time given by JKR as she left only three months for the bloodbath that descended upon the Order in the lead-up to Voldemort’s attack on the Potters, and I needed a named character to drop dead before this.  Thank you so much to [livejournal.com profile] jadzialove , [livejournal.com profile] pingrid  and the fiendfyre girls for beta-ing, encouraging, and stopping me from giving up and drinking chianti instead.

Of Great Price, part I )
blamebrampton: 15th century woodcut of a hound (Default)
I blame [livejournal.com profile] sansa1970 and [livejournal.com profile] calanthe_fics for me writing for Darkfest. It went like this:

Me: Fests are exhausting! And they suck my will to live! And they mean that I never finish my WIPs, and people are beginning to ... suggest that I ought to.
Cal: Oh WOW! Darkfest! It looks BRILLIANT! I am SO writing for that!
Sansa: YES YES YES! What a great idea for a Fest, and it looks as though it will be run calmly and collectedly! I'm doing it, you should too, flist!
Me: No, no, no, oh, all right.

This is why I don't hang out with Hare Krishnas, in case you've ever wondered.

Cal and Sansa are both dreadful enablers, and the fact that they were able to write brilliant fics well before the deadline makes me think I shall send them coal for Christmas.

Having said that, they were both very right in suggesting that it would be a brilliant fest. The mod, the redoubtable [livejournal.com profile] melusinahp , was relaxed, and encouraging. I think she must have had a bit of a giggle when I suggested that I would easily be able to wrap up my fic while preparing to travel and learn Italian and working a couple of extra contracts. She was quite right. Oh the lateness ...

So, as to the actual fic … Look, it's not particularly scary. And that's not because I wanted to be soft, it's because to my mind the darkest things we do to each other are the casual, lazy, everyday things that ignore each other's humanity. If I had to sum it up in one phrase, it would be the one that I heard from an old family friend when I was little, and have heard from many other sources since: 'We thought we were German, and then, apparently, we weren't.'

This was why I was automatically drawn to the Marauders' era, because how do you cling to humanity during a time of civil destruction? Was all that casual cruelty really because they were self-important prats? Or were they just externalising the themes that underpinned their whole society?

Rowling leaves so many tantalising hints as to their stories that it's impossible not to be interested, even if it's just a will to see James Potter and Sirius Black fall flat on their snotty faces at some point. And that's what this is, really, some 30,000-odd words of trying to work out why, and how, it all happened.


Title: Of Great Price
Author/Artist: blamebrampton
Pairing(s)/Characters: Sirius/Remus, James and Lily Potter, Peter Pettigrew, First Order of the Phoenix, Original Death Eaters and sundry Black relatives in supporting roles.
Summary: Truth is the first casualty of war. And when we lose our trust in those we love, what reason do they have to hold onto theirs?
Prompt:
Alas! In a garden I lost it, let
It go to the ground on a grassy plot.
Bereft of love, I am racked by regret
For Pearl, my own Pearl without a spot.

-- Pearl Poet

Rating: M
Word count: ~ 30,000
Warnings: Death by the bucketload.
Author notes: The arms blazoned are from the Black crest in the film version, as I could find no canon version in the books. I am not an expert, so please feel free to point out errors! I intentionally moved Caradoc Dearborn’s death from the time given by JKR as she left only three months for the bloodbath that descended upon the Order in the lead-up to Voldemort’s attack on the Potters, and I needed a named character to drop dead before this.  Thank you so much to [livejournal.com profile] jadzialove , [livejournal.com profile] pingrid  and the fiendfyre girls for beta-ing, encouraging, and stopping me from giving up and drinking chianti instead.

Of Great Price, part I )

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