Story 242: "Skin" by Annie Sewell-Jennings

[discordantwords.livejournal.com]

I'm not much of an AU person. A lot of what drew me into the X Files was the dynamic between Mulder and Scully in their particular set of circumstances. That said, I've been hankering to revisit an AU that I remember reading and enjoying back when it was originally published. It may actually have been the first AU I ever read. I thought of it again recently and wondered how it would hold up to a reread all these years later.

"Skin" has a pretty standard set up. What if Scully caved to familial pressure and never joined the FBI? What if Mulder never reopened the X Files?

This story occasionally makes its way onto "classics" lists, although I don't see it recced as often as some other AUs. Possibly because it's very long, possibly because it's somewhat harder to find (it is not archived at Gossamer), or possibly because I've viewed it too fondly through the lens of nostalgia. The author is probably best known for "Erosion," which I have never read, but which has a reputation as one of the saddest MSR fics ever written.

This is a long one. Novel length, MSR.

SUMMARY: In a world where Mulder and Scully have never met, fate intervenes and brings two worlds colliding in the city of Charleston, as a vicious murderer reigns and a storm approaches.

Read Skin.

Comments

[discordantwords.livejournal.com]

Notes through Part 5:

The prologue made me cringe too. I think the author is trying to set up some sort of fate vs. chance dichotomy here, but it gets lost amid the flowery language. Which is a shame, since starting the story with the birth of a storm that will surely come into play later is a nice idea.

Things I don't like so far:

Too many adjectives. My first impression is that this isn't badly written, per say, but it is certainly overwritten. I feel like I'm drowning in a sea of descriptions. A cerulean, bejeweled sea.

I can understand why a red-haired woman on a bicycle would catch Mulder's eye as she whipped past. I have a harder time buying that she'd notice him at all, since she should be concentrating on where she's going, but I'll still accept that she might take note of an attractive man as she passes. I do not, however, buy that all this:

She turned her head, and felt herself nearly lose her grip on her handlebars. Someone was watching her, a stranger in a black suit and a wildly-colored necktie, and that stranger was one of the most striking men she had ever seen. A unique face stared at her, with high cheekbones and summer-colored skin, all marked by a dominant and slightly crooked nose. But it was his eyes that caught her attention. The color swarmed together in the distance, displaying only dark brown the color of cocoa beans. Yet it was what resided in those eyes that she could discern even now. Intelligence, intensity, and a deep, heartbreaking flavor of sorrow.

could take place in the split-second she has to glance over her shoulder at him.

This confusing passage:

Five years ago, he might have gone home and found images of skinned women lying everywhere, haunting his dreams as well as his days. But now, they were merely a fact of life that he had to deal with. People died. People were murdered. And he was supposed to bring them justice. It was a routine, losing himself in the darkness of the demons that had killed him. And now it was becoming more and more difficult to pull himself back out.

I would consider no longer having visions of skinned corpses haunting your every waking moment a sign of improved mental health, not a sign that you've slid further down the rabbit hole.

Focus on eyes and eye color is one of those things that always irritates me, be it fic or novel. This is excessive:

He stared back at her, trying to read her thoughts underneath the bright blue ice of her eyes, and he felt a sudden tension simmer between them. Electricity crackled in her eyes, sparkling and sizzling with clear cerulean heat, before they settled into closed-off, reserved pools of frost.

Count the shades of blue!

Things I like so far:

I love stories that effectively make use of location. Charleston is described with loving care and seems to come alive. The author's familiarity with (and fondness for) the city really shines through.

I liked the image of Scully riding her bike along the Battery, merging land and sea.

Scully's house sounds lovely.

It might be the romantic in me, but I don't mind the idea that Mulder and Scully were always supposed to find each other and thus experience some sense of completion at doing so. This is a love story first and a casefile second, so I'm willing to cut it some slack in that regard.

I liked this description of the oppressive Charleston heat:
It felt like some sort of virus, sinking through his skin and claiming his body.

Although the case is taking a back seat to Mulder and Scully gazing at each other, I am finding myself interested in it nonetheless.

In defense of tropes:

Profiling in general seems like an unpleasant bit of business. Fully immersing yourself in the worst of humanity and trying to put reason to it has got to take some kind of toll. I'm not a fan of the PROFILERS ARE ALL SECONDS AWAY FROM TURNING INTO MONSTERS THEMSELVES trope, but the only episode of the show that dealt heavily with Mulder-as-profiler did put him into a rather dark place.

Morgue coffee probably is terrible. That's not an excuse for Scully accepting a cup of it and then being nauseated. She works there, she should know better.

[wendelah1]

Morgue coffee probably is terrible. That's not an excuse for Scully accepting a cup of it and then being nauseated. She works there, she should know better.

I'm certain the coffee is bad. But why is she drinking it at all? She has a house with a kitchen. Make yourself a cup of coffee, Scully. But yeah, as a writer, I know it's hard to figure out action-y stuff for characters to do when they're just having a conversation.

I would consider no longer having visions of skinned corpses haunting your every waking moment a sign of improved mental health, not a sign that you've slid further down the rabbit hole.

Me, too.

The profilers are all crazy bit doesn't match up with the reality of profiling at all. Is it too much to expect that someone writing a long fanfic about a profiler might do a little research? I blame Oklahoma for cementing this fanon just as much as 1013 and "Grotesque." One of the things that was refreshing about Tesla's fanfic was how refreshingly normal--for Mulder--he was while profiling.

Mulder's been in BSU for what, ten years now? If he was going to snap, wouldn't it have already happened?

I love stories that effectively make use of location. Charleston is described with loving care and seems to come alive. The author's familiarity with (and fondness for) the city really shines through.

So far, for me, that represents the best of her writing. She relaxes and just writes when she's describing the city. The character appearance descriptions are the worst.

[femmenerd.livejournal.com]

I think the most interesting depictions of profiler!Mulder combine the dark, draining, depressing aspect of the whole business with the rush he gets from his own proficiency at it. Like, the fact that he enjoys it is part of why he also hates it sometimes. Conflict and such!

And plus there's the fact that while he abandoned the BSU for the bigger picture of the X-Files - actually searching for his sister rather than proxies - I often like stories where he takes a profiler "vacation" later on, because solving a mystery that's actually solveable is a relief of sorts, even if the findings are grim.

Of course in this story we have an X-less Mulder, but I still take the view that Mulder doesn't unilaterally hate profiling - his demons/passion/quest just led him elsewhere.

I mean, for all of his self deprecation and voluntary isolation, I think the man does enjoy being competent, in and of itself. He's got I securities, yes, but he's also arrogant - and not without cause.

(Also, I would like to state that I don't think tropes and tropiness are inherently bad - although perhaps individual ones might be - and creative interpretations and combinations of tropes are how genres grow, evolve and play with revel in themselves.)

Okay, not sure I'm making sense anymore, so I'll stop!