update from sparkleup

writing/post-self/qoheleth/RJ/004-b.md

@@ -23,7 +23,7 @@ RJ exchanged cheery greetings with the lights understudy as ey shrugged out of e
 
 Ey settled into eir chair and delved in to greet the theater. It purred in recognition, brushed up against em, stretched and unlimbered. Thoughts of Cicero and Debarre, of Sasha and the lost left back with eir body, with eir hands resting lightly on the contacts in the cradles, forehead against the headrest.
 
-The first half of rehearsal went by without much trouble. Johansson had apparently highlighted a few areas of concern, so they began with those. From there, the cast has followed his lead, adjusting as needed per their dear leader's suggestions. RJ and Caitlin kept a script running so that they could keep up with the director and stage manager.
+The first half of rehearsal went by without trouble. Johansson had apparently highlighted a few areas of concern, so they began with those. From there, the cast has followed his lead, adjusting as needed per their dear leader's suggestions. RJ and Caitlin kept a script running so that they could keep up with the director and stage manager.
 
 When the clock hit eight thirty, Johansson called for a break and informed everyone that they would be running through top to bottom after. Last chance for a full run-through.
 
@@ -37,21 +37,21 @@ It was around the end of the first act that RJ started having problems.
 
 When one was delved in, one could always focus hard enough to feel the way their head felt against the headrest, or sense the way that their hands rested within the cradles of the grips. Trickier, sure, when one was as immersive as eir tech required. Bodies weren't a thing in that liminal space. Ey was as much the room as the room was itself. No forehead, no hands. No headrest or grips
 
-By the time ey had brought house sound down in time for the curtain, RJ could feel a numbness creeping. A stealing of sensation. A non-feeling flowing slowly over emself from the base of eir neck outwards, stretching out along eir scalp, down eir arms, not-tickling along eir ribs.
+By the time ey had brought house sound down in time for the curtain, RJ could feel a numbness creeping. A stealing of sensation. A non-feeling flowing slowly over emself from the base of eir neck outwards, stretching out along eir scalp, down eir arms, the non-sensation not-tickling along eir ribs.
 
 Ey had been willing, desperately, to chalk it up to nerves or exhaustion. It had been such a long week.
 
 Thoughts of Cicero, doubtless cradled in some hospital creche: strictly disallowed but nonetheless teasing around the edges of consciousness.
 
-Tired, yes. Exhausted. Yawns.
+*Tired, yes. Exhausted. Yawns.*
 
 By the time ey couldn't feel the plastic of the headrest or the cradles beneath eir hands, no matter the desperation, ey began to panic.
 
-Panic, yes. Just anxiety. Nerves.
+*Panic, yes. Just anxiety. Nerves.*
 
 All the same, it was final dress. Ey would be able to head home and catch up on sleep. Drink some tea. Hot chocolate. Pet the cat. Whatever ey needed.
 
-Need, yes. Baser than want. Imperatives.
+*Need, yes. Baser than want. Imperatives.*
 
 By the second curtain, something was desperately wrong.
 
@@ -59,7 +59,7 @@ Ey hadn't missed any cues yet, but ey couldn't seem to figure out how to work ei
 
 Numb, yes. Yet strangely embodied. Strangely tangible. Strangely localized. Oh god oh god please help please help. The play. Ey had work. Ey had the theater. Ey had the room and the lines and time and space to manage. Ey had a home and the Crown and a cat and Sasha and Debarre.
 
-Had, yes.
+*Had, yes.*
 
 It was the muzzle that was the kicker. The muzzle and the tail, which ey felt --- any feeling a beacon in the storm of numbness which had long since enveloped em entire --- with a piercing intensity. Felt, bordering on and then diving straight into pain.
 
@@ -69,6 +69,8 @@ Ey lifted eir hands --- paws? --- in a coarse, jerking motion which, along with
 
 And that was when ey missed eir cue.
 
+-----
+
 The curtain went down, the lights dimmed, and then, ringing clear, a thin giggle filled the auditorium. The lead laughing at a misstep. A quiet joke to share at the pub later. No harm. Sound was off, right? Curtains would eat the unamplified laugh.
 
 "RJ," Sarai whispered into the silence of the theater's sim. "Stay on cue, bud."
@@ -85,13 +87,15 @@ No answer, no apology, no acknowledgment that a note had been made. No signal.
 
 Moving with a quickness which belied his bulk, Johansson jogged up to the tech booth and slipped in as quickly as possible to keep sound from leaking out. Sarai was trying to rouse RJ.
 
-Like a projector bulb's heat burning through celluloid film, the third curtain had signified a drastic change. Slow enough to be observed, faster than ey could hope to avoid. The few tenuous touches on reality that held RJ into eir seat in the tech booth scorched and peeled away, acrid smoke stinging eir eyes. And the pain spiked.
+-----
+
+Like a projector bulb's heat burning through celluloid film, the third curtain had signified a drastic change. Slow enough to be observed, faster than ey could hope to avoid. The few tenuous touches on reality that held RJ into eir seat in the tech booth scorched and peeled away, acrid smoke stinging eir eyes. And the numbness spiked.
 
 RJ lay on a tile floor. Dirty. Yellow. Brown specks, dark enough to be black.
 
 The tiles were completely regular, one foot on a side, obviously made of some synthetic material. Harder than linoleum, softer than stone. They were glued to a concrete foundation. No wasting time with grout, each tile butted up against the others to form a grid of thin, black lines showing where the dirt of hundreds of feet had been ground into the remaining seams. Thousands. Millions.
 
-Ey couldn't move yet, but ey could see that the world was bounded. There was a thin plastic strip of molding around the edge of a wall. Above that, regular rectangles of blue. A wall.
+Ey couldn't move, not yet, but ey could see that the world was bounded. There was a thin plastic strip of molding around the edge of a wall. Above that, regular rectangles of blue. A wall.
 
 "Something's not right, boss. He's totally unresponsive on the line."