First author up is kangeiko, a new author sucked in by my evil Londothon. She brought us Rampion in all of its dark and desperate glory. Behold:
He opened his mouth for a witty retort. "How can you even look at me, G'Kar?" was not what he had wanted to say, though it ended their mutual hilarity and thus served its purpose. And – "how can you –" but G'Kar already had a hand over his mouth and one at the back of his neck, deftly avoiding the scaly tail of the Keeper to bury itself in the rise of lacquered hair.
"I can’t." And then G'Kar was leaning in to bite his earlobe. "Mollari," he hissed, eyes bright with avarice, "let down your hair."
She also cruelly teases us with promises of hot tentacle action with slutty Centauri courtiers. The devil! *g*
Then there's andrastewhite, goddess of tentacle pr0n. My personal favorite Raste accomplishment remains Certamen:
"I thought you were meeting a girl this evening," he says, taking no action to either stop or assist Londo.
"There is plenty of me to go around," he says, extending another organ to join the first, "and it is hours until then."
"And you are bored," Urza adds, unnecessarily. Londo had already been counting the long hours before the meeting with the latest love of his life when he suggested a duel that morning. They had fought for much too long in the summer heat before Urza in turn grew bored, tired of toying with his opponent, and finished him off. Paso Liarti had many talents, but Urza knew there was no-one on Centauri Prime to equal him with a coutari. He wasn't sure why his friend kept asking to be beaten with one.
That he is seeking another way to pass the time is to be expected - he never has been able to sit still and wait for anything.
"With a little assistance from you," Londo says, "I shall be bored no longer."
The genius of Raste is that she actually sits down and figures out the alien anatomy and physiology- in graphic detail. *g* Witness her bodyswap romp, in which several biological differences between Narn and Centauri are covered, including the gag reflex, sweating, the visual color spectrum, and, naturally, achieving orgasm *g*:
It took some concentration to raise the brachiarte - as it was properly called in Centauri - to head height, and then he cautiously stuck out his tongue to touch it.
Now that was wonderful, good enough for him to pull the tentacle closer with his hands and start licking it in earnest. He felt a jolt through all of the tentacles and much of his upper body, and eagerly began to draw the head into his mouth. It was a slightly awkward shape, but after a moment he managed to get the tip past his long Centauri teeth, hissing as they brushed against it. The mild pain was not unpleasant.
G'Kar had just congratulated himself on getting the widest part into his mouth and started to draw it down his throat when he remembered the extremely inconvenient fact of the Centauri gag reflex. Choking, he managed to withdraw the tentacle quickly (scraping it painfully - and not at all pleasantly - against his canine teeth on the way) and stood there coughing and dry retching.
Which was, of course, when Londo came back from the other room.
Next up: kakodaimon, who has the world's best sense of humor and plays an awesome _lennier_. Whether on theatrical_muse or in a stand-alone story, the funny in Kako's writing sneaks up on you when you're not looking. Only Kako can conceive of a diary entry in which Lennier dreams of a naked Delenn popping out of his birthday cake. Or put Vir under the tutelage of Yoda and make me gibber and swoon in excited glee:
To his surprise and deflation, the expected "Good, good!" was not forthcoming. Instead, the creature shook his head. "Then ready you are."
"What?" he exploded. "But-no! No, I’m not! I thought you’d tell me to start running again, or, or to start doing pushups or something! I can’t go out and rescue anybody! Besides, I thought I had to wait and, and, and-"
Yoda shook his head. "No. There." He pointed his cane at a dark opening in the dangling moss. "Inside."
"What’s in there?"
"Only what you take with you."
"Then can I take, uh, can I take Satai Jiggles?"
For the first time, an expression of confusion crossed the alien’s face. "Who?"
"My stuffed gok, from the Minbari embassy?"
Yoda waved a hand. Vir got the distinct impression he was struggling to keep his eyes from rolling. "Your toy. You will not need it."
"Can I take you?"
And lastly, for now: selenak, who should get a B5 equivalent of an Honorary Lifetime Achievement Award for what she's done for Londo and the Centauri, moonlighting as londo_mollari and writing numerous, consistently excellent stand-alones. Thank the Great Maker she decided last year to do something about the lack of Narn/Centauri fic! All of the good stuff can be found either here or here, and all of the good stuff must be read, though my personal favorite from 2004 is, without any doubt, Lost in Translation:
Asking her to teach him the Narn language had been a rebellious whim, for the most part. Her refusal transformed it into an obsession. He began to trail her during her household chores and started to aid her unasked. He was as clumsy at this as he was at repairing fishermen's nets, but as opposed to the girls and women of the village, F'Dan did not laugh, giggle or tease. The first time he broke something when trying to lift it, being fooled about the weight by her strength, it resulted in a resounding slap.
Londo stared at her in disbelief, too stunned to cry out. No adult had ever beaten him; save for the occasional tussle with other boys, nobody had lifted a finger against him at all. Certainly no woman, let alone a slave. Child or not, he could have had her whipped or killed for the offence, and they both knew it. Yet the Narn woman made no move to apologize. She glared at him a few seconds longer, then continued with her duties as if nothing had happened.
If F'Dan had believed, though, that this would discourage him, she had miscalculated. Ever after, she found him following her like a shadow. Only now he was ordering his own servant, who knew how to handle these things, to aid her. Moreover, she found little presents each day; wild flowers, a necklace of shells, a delicacy from the capital. It was then that F'Dan realised two things.
This was a boy to whom the idea of being disliked, let alone hated, did not occur. He would automatically treat as friends first whatever company of strangers he joined, because the concept of hatred was still alien to him. Secondly, this was a boy to whom, so far, nothing had been denied, and whose instinctive response to rejection was not force but the attempt to woo the rejecting person.
In another lifetime, F'Dan might have found these traits charming, as indeed she might have been rather taken by the boy himself. He was not handsome by either Centauri or Narn standards, but his liveliness, generosity and cheer were quite compelling.
In this lifetime, though, everything that was endearing about Londo Mollari served to strengthen F'Dan's hatred. She looked in his friendly, smiling face and knew that while there might have been children like him on Narn once upon a time, there were none now. Any child born on Narn now, if it was born at all, was raised in hatred and fear and learned how to kill at an age where coddled princelings like this creature thought getting your ears boxed was harsh punishment.
F'Dan looked at him, thought of his grandfather, and resolved to teach him a lesson he would never forget.
How this ends is so suitable, so horrifying, and might as well be a part of Londo's elaborate and tragic canon.
*happy sigh* If only there were annual awards for the B5 fandom...