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update from sparkleup

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Madison Scott-Clary 2021-11-17 20:30:04 -08:00
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writing/post-self/toledot/launch/sys/Ioan/001.md
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@ -10,7 +10,7 @@ Still shaking eir head, ey walked up along the streamer-lined path up toward the
Ioan need not have looked hard for Dear; the fox was already sprinting around the corner of the house. Fox*es*, ey realized, for as it ran, it forked off copies of itself of all sorts: that iridescent fennec ey remembered, yes, but also scampering foxes no larger than a double-handful, a few grinning copies of the Michelle Hadje of its past, and even a shoulder-high lumbering beast with eyes that crackled with a light of their own.
Dear --- the real Dear --- was easy to pick out, for it was dressed in mourners garb. A black suit, almost-but-not-quite masculine, with its eyes hidden by a gauzy black, almost-but-not-quite feminine veil.
Dear --- the real Dear --- was easy to pick out, for it was dressed in mourners' garb. A black suit, almost-but-not-quite masculine, with its eyes hidden by a gauzy black, almost-but-not-quite feminine veil.
One by one, the various forks quit, and Dear, Also, The Tree That Was Felled skidded to an unceremonious stop in front of the historian.
@ -74,7 +74,7 @@ Ey realized that the triad were staring at them. Ey shook eir head to dispel the
"Here."
Four heads turned to the watch the skunk, similar to Dear in so many ways but for species, padded around the corner. She smiled apologetically and bowed. "Sorry I am late."
Four heads turned to watch the skunk, similar to Dear in so many ways but for species, pad around the corner. She smiled apologetically and bowed. "Sorry I am late."
Dear brightened and bounced up to the skunk, part of its own clade, and once she stood straight again, hugged her. *"My dear, a pleasure as always."*
@ -157,7 +157,7 @@ It did not seem time yet to snap sobriety into being.
It had taken Ioan several weeks to get used to the skunk's affectionate nature. When she first moved in as the intensity of the project began to ramp up, it had taken em by surprise. Even the act of her moving in was unexpected and new. Ey had needed to have a series of awkward conversations discussing boundaries and intentions.
Now, it had become comfortable and familiar. May Then My Name was as she should be and Ioan had grown to enjoy that
Now, it had become comfortable and familiar. May Then My Name was as she should be and Ioan had grown to enjoy that.
As she slouched against eir side on that bench swing and ey settled eir arm around her, ey asked, "What's the story behind your fork? Or your stanza?"