|Review:||teh tarik says:|
Oh my gosh, this chapter.
Well, if there was any ambiguity about Tom in the previous chapters, if there was any hope that some fragment of humanity about Riddle that could be salvaged - well that's all been crushed completely by this chapter. Somehow I'm not surprised. Maybe because you've written his madness so methodically, showing that progressive loss of humanity. His mask has been peeled off completely, and beneath is something so vile and monstrous. I can truly see Voldemort in this. I can see clearly, the transition from Riddle's ambiguity to the fixed and unwavering evil that is Voldemort. Gah, I'm being repetitive; I just don't have the right words for this :O
I loved the opening scene - well, it was a pretty dreary countryside scene tainted with death. But I liked that little moment between Pomona and Mafalda. I love their conflicting little friendship - and yet no matter how many differences or disagreements (or rather how disagreeable Mafalda is with Pomona) there are, both the girls are united by something so morbid as the death of a classmate. That's the thing about death, it brings people together in the bleakest of ways, to seek comfort from each other. And then there's Riddle who has absolutely no respect for anything human, breaking into the middle of everything. Honestly, he's so malicious, driving that wedge between Pomona and Mafalda - but it's also the move of a predator alienating his prey from the rest of the world, pulling her away into dangerous territory.
UGH Tom imagining he'd cut her up and braise her and melt her subcutaneous fat down for candle wax. Are all the hundreds of candles of St. Tenebris the slow melting fat tissues of women hidden in his castle and killed one by one to quell his murderous urges? Such a horrific image with shades of Bluebeard.
That "glitch in his brain" moment...gah, all I want to do is grab hold of the edges of that split second and stretch it out so it completely engulfs Tom and that he lives in that eternal moment of emptiness. Until he realises the folly of his self and actions arrgh arrgh.
Your descriptions have really reached a sort of climax in this chapter...must quote my favourites ♥
raindrops sheeting off a yellow umbrella
His breath clouded her neck, the scent of steamed lily of the valley, making her thoughts congeal together in a disoriented state.
The flower imagery in this chapter is just dkahjfas omg.
Brown tufts blew up all around her face, curly when wet. Tom was struck by the sudden image of chopping off her hair and needling it through the scalp of a doll that he could then send to Mr. and Mrs. Sprout. A souvenir of their daughter.
Skulls make for exquisite flower vases, with red poppies in the eye sockets and Casablanca lilies snaking out of the mouth.
Pomona could smell the fragrance of flowers not just in his grasp but upon his breath. He had plucked them from the banks of his own bloodstream, a walking botanical garden.
Again, all of these flower images are so fresh, so brilliant and original; I think you've made me fall in love with flower imagery all over again.
It blinked at him from the shores of his sweltering frontal lobes, waiting to be perfected, executed, celebrated. It was within shouting distance.
Absolutely brilliant way to end this chapter.
GAAAHH This chapter is just unbelievable ♥ Can't wait for the final part ^.^ Brilliant writing as usual.
Author's Response: Tom's mask keeps getting thinner and thinner. He just can't keep his inner Voldemort from surfacing. I view it as a constant battle he has to endure for years and years - pretending to be normal and feel things he doesn't know how to feel - which might contribute to the psychotic, bonkers Voldemort with no nose later on in life. It would be utterly exhausting to pretend to be someone you're not every time you interact with another human being.
Tom trying to alienate Pomona by driving a wedge further between her and Mafalda was inspired by Luna's remark to Harry about how Voldemort wants him to feel cut off from everyone else so that he wouldn't be as much of a threat. I think he would want everyone to feel just as isolated as he feels.
Eeep, so happy you like all the flower imagery! It's all because of Sprout. It foreshadows her calling in Herbology, as Tom's begonia started her collection of flowers and overall interest in plants. Her admiration of Tom rubbed off on her admiration of the flower he gave her, and by extension all other flowers.
Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! ♥