Regulus is perfect here - entirely perfect. You completely capture his character here, exactly as I see him. This is one of the best portrayals of Regulus that I've ever read.

As always, your wording is one of the most beautiful things ever - it's almost like poetry, it flows and is lyrical and simply awe-inspiring. I love the way you write, all of your characters - they're memorable and human and vulnerable and very believable.

I love how all these different things mix together here - Regulus's story, mythology, poetry - and it becomes really symbolic, laced with meaning, and it's incredible.

Another brillient, wonderful story. Soon I am going to run out of great words to describe it. This is amazing, this is like literature. there's symbolism and themes and imagery and everything.

I'm a bit starved of literature at the moment so your stuff is like chocolate fudge after a week of salad.

''The world as Sirius sees it, you think, is a network of sharp angles in contrasting monochromatic splendour, black-and-white and sketched in broad sweeping lines and quick upward strokes, straight-then-bent like the way he stands, or the way he laughs, sound arcing downwards like some sort of jagged lightning; brilliant and, for a moment, blinding. And there is only room for one meaning of right, and one of wrong; things diametrically opposite, you have thought, and idealistic, and crazy.'' Possibly my favourite lines. they just portray sirius so well.

Wonderful, wonderful fic. You've really got a way with words. "one of those seconds was the moment when the world began to fall to pieces and crumble to dust between your fingers.
And this is how the rain and the wind go; tremulously, whispering, empty slow sounds."
That part is absolutely great. There are other lines I found fantastic, but that would mean copying and pasting the whole fic, so...

First of all, the ideal of Regulus as Icarus is a brilliant, and beautiful, one. Your writing, as usual, virtually sings. I loved this bit... "You wonder what it must feel like to be Icarus...triumphant and glorious against the sun, and then feel the searing trickle of melting wax down your back and smell burning feathers (acrid, you think, and bitter on the tongue)". *Shiver*

Your style suits the William Carlos Williams poem well. I think you were channeling a bit of Eliot as well ("the still point, perhaps, in a turning world").

Anyway, love it. Absolutely love it.

A little hard to follow at times, slightly verbose, but overall has a moving effect. Interesting take on a mildly neglected character. Well done.

This is absolutely gorgeous writing. I always feel like Regulus is something of a non-character; I think that in being so, he lends himself perfectly to these quiet depictions of a soul haunted by the foreknowledge of his own death.
Do you by chance by synesthesia? I do, and I understand EXACTLY what you mean when you use these colors as you do...beautiful, in many more ways than one. Please keep writing, and do read my work if you ever have time.
Ciao,
Ivy :)