LINKDING

<blockquote>I said, “They’re waiting for you to take your Conversion Exams in Phylla.” “Ha! The divine powers in Phylla say I’m ready for the test of humanhood. Sorry, I don’t want a Convert stamp on my ID.” Her flippant attitude surprised me. Convert status was the holy grail of all lab clones. Clone embryos carried to term by surrogate mothers were considered natural-born, but not lab clones cultivated in synthetic wombs and jump-started with neural uploads. Lab clones had to be certified through Conversion Exams before they were recognized as legal persons. Until then, they were the limited life span property of their sponsors.</blockquote>

<blockquote>You are waiting for your instance in the basement of the Shinsegae Department Store. This was as good as an amusement park when you were a kid; it was a wonderland of delicious food stalls and a typical weekend haunt because your grandfather lived two blocks away. Your grandfather is dead. Your instance gave you the news: a phone call in the dead of night that woke you from a dead sleep. “Hello?” you said, accented with slumber. “Is this Soyoung Kang?” your own voice said, accented with Korean. “Yes,” you said. The only people who still call you Soyoung are family. Everyone else calls you Rose.</blockquote>

<blockquote>“Mom and Dad never taught you how to cook, did they?” asks someone next to me. It’s my voice, but huskier. I turn and see myself at twice my age. I hate Original Diana immediately, or at least I want to hate her. Nothing should surprise me about her appearance, yet I’m embarrassed to be excited to look like her when I’m in my forties. My cheeks get hot when I think about how I held out a shred of hope that she would look, at best, like a shoddy beta version of me. Instead, her black jumpsuit and moonrock jewelry make her striking against my postflight black curls and simple skater dress. The restaurant website’s proud newspaper reviews had the same glowing face, surrounded by the same chic mid-century interior and tantalizing food. I tried to convince myself that it was makeup, surgery, Photoshop, or some other conflation of the truth. But I’m here now, in her domain. Original Diana smiles at me. “Nope,” I say. “They didn’t want me becoming another restaurateur.” “I figured,” she responds.</blockquote>

<blockquote>A serial story of what-if: what if Cam had been a little more injured, and what if Jack's clone had been a little less willing to walk away.</blockquote> ➤ I've been intending to read this fic since 2009, but I'm glad I didn't read it at the time because I only had a link to "A Howling in the Factory Yard," and didn't know there was a whole 'verse it was part of. ➤ A frigging amazing story. Starts with lots of background and contextualization and becoming a community, all of which is great, then when the plot happens JD is so isolated while having to do hard things which is so much the better having come after the build-up, and then he gets to go home. ➤ This page doesn't have the concluding fic arc linked and it was several days after reading the fic that I discovered it did exist; the series wasn't actually abandoned, it just wasn't crossposted from dw. ➤ On first reading I was feeling super betrayed because that meant the emotional arc was never wrapped up. But after I found book three, it did everything that's needed and is great: http://synecdochic.dreamwidth.org/tag/brokenship-wings

<blockquote>"The exact wording was 'I wish for my daughter to be cloned from my DNA, so that I may give her a secure future in every cell of her body.' Your mother was giving you a gift—badly, perhaps, but she meant well. Now, will you go see her as she's dying?"</blockquote>

<blockquote>It is one of the best-kept and most dangerous secrets on Barrayar.</blockquote>

<blockquote>There are too many Elaines in the lab.</blockquote> ➤ holy crap I am SO INTO THIS FIC

<blockquote>After spending years trapped on a Wraith ship, Rodney McKay escapes and returns to Atlantis. The only trouble is, he's already there.</blockquote>