Man, typos! *shakes fist* That's what sort of sucks about archives: while I'm ON my lj and can casually see these and correct them/my beta can sneak into my account and do it for me if she spots them, I just never remember to do the small corrections on Teaspoon, because a) I'm not over there and b) the process is somewhat more unwieldy. I'm sure the Teaspoon editions are thus comparatively typo!balls. Digestive 'tracks' indeed. Either this suggests some mad fat beats by a struggling DJ who desperately seeks both fame and a stomach transplant or an athletic team comprised entirely of intestines (the feel-good sports movie of the summer, I am sure). I'll have a look, thanks for the note.

It's so nice to hear you say that, because this is a fic I'm never terribly sure about re: the Woobie Barrier. I think the actions make /sense/ for him given the conditions of the story, but it sort of got the initial reception of Alpha Centauri entering the Miss Teen USA pageant (oh he/she/it /so/ would), and I went 'er, perhaps that... did not come across well. :/' Then a few more people said they'd like it, but I'd already termed it a hot mess in my mind, and all I could see were some pacing!structural issues/how the POV I'd gone with prevented a perhaps necessary dialogue between the reader and the Master's thoughts, which would have sacrificed suspense there for more believability? It's really weird how the dynamics of reception condition how you think about your work, its aims, and how it succeeded or failed in terms of them. It's interesting to hear ways it worked!