diff --git a/writing/post-self/motes/001.md b/writing/post-self/motes/001.md index 9a0ce4e6..f1242a12 100644 --- a/writing/post-self/motes/001.md +++ b/writing/post-self/motes/001.md @@ -82,7 +82,7 @@ A Finger Pointing shrugged. "I do not see why not. Do you want to?" Motes grinned. "Not really! I just wanted to see if I could." -Her up-tree pinched her ear between her fingers. "Very well. Will you be staying here by yourself, then?" +Her down-tree pinched her ear between her fingers. "Very well. Will you be staying here by yourself, then?" She laughed, tilting her head and taking a lapping sip of her drink. "Maybe! Maybe I will find someone to flop with." diff --git a/writing/post-self/motes/007.md b/writing/post-self/motes/007.md index 6c8480c5..e61b4c9d 100644 --- a/writing/post-self/motes/007.md +++ b/writing/post-self/motes/007.md @@ -28,7 +28,7 @@ She was not going to play around, here. She was not going to play soft. She was ----- -Some treacherously sunny afternoon some centuries back, Sasha/Michelle Hadje sat tiredly on the edge of a fountain in the middle of a brick-paved pedestrian mall. Just a woman or a skunk or perhaps both sitting on the rough stone in classical white, head bowed in concentration as the sun warmed the back of her neck. Beside her sat a man, a politician, watching as she drained her reserves of reputation to bring into being ten more instances of herself, each blissfully unafflicted by the restlessness-of-shape and in many ways less affected by the restlessness-of-mind that plagued her. +Some treacherously sunny afternoon some centuries back, Sasha/Michelle Hadje sat tiredly on the edge of a fountain in the middle of a brick-paved pedestrian mall. Just a woman or a skunk or perhaps both sitting on the rough stone in classical white, head bowed in concentration as the sun warmed the back of her neck. Beside her sat a man, a politician, watching as she drained her reserves of reputation to bring into being ten more instances of herself, each blissfully unafflicted by the restlessness-of-shape and in many ways less affected by the restlessness-of-mind that plagued her, though never completely without. "So, what next?" the man asked. @@ -68,9 +68,9 @@ From that point on, A Finger Pointing made herself the glue of this growing clad ----- -Yes, there were steps that she needed to take. There were ways that she needed to keep herself safe. There were ways that those who above all else she loved might come to harm and she need to keep them safe as well. She needed to ensure their safety even above her own. +Yes, there were steps that she needed to take. There were ways that she needed to keep herself safe. There were ways that those who above all else she loved might come to harm and she needed to keep them safe as well. She needed to ensure their safety even above her own. -Dry Grass was the first she kept safe. A home was provided to her within the fifth stanza's neighborhood, a little cottage some doors down from her own home. She may have been safe as she was, they both agreed, but safety from her down-tree's anger was not the only safety that was needed. There was also safety from being alone, from being left in without support. +Dry Grass was the first she kept safe. A home was provided to her within the fifth stanza's neighborhood, a little cottage some doors down from where A Finger Pointing, Beholden, and Motes lived. She may have been safe as she was, they both agreed, but safety from her down-tree's anger was not the only safety that was needed. There was also safety from being alone, from being left without support. Dry Grass did not weep. She did not sob. The tears she shed that night, sitting around the kitchen table with A Finger Pointing and Beholden, were tears of fury. They were tears of betrayal. @@ -86,7 +86,7 @@ Both nodded. "It has been more than a few years since I have spoken to Hammered Silver," Sasha admitted. "I last spoke with her around the time that the Artemisians arrived, yes? Before I became that which I am, yes?" A faint smirk painted her muzzle as she added, "The one who has named herself Sasha, yes?" -A Finger Pointing grit her teeth together, counting silently to ten. "That she weaponized all of our names against us only makes me all the angrier. I do not know what to expect of her, though. I do not know what her true intent is." +A Finger Pointing grit her teeth, counting silently to ten. "That she weaponized all of our names against us only makes me all the angrier. I do not know what to expect of her, though. I do not know what her true intent is." "As in what is her goal for sending this letter?" @@ -94,7 +94,7 @@ A Finger Pointing grit her teeth together, counting silently to ten. "That she w Dry Grass snorted. "She is an Odist; of course it is not. I am only sorry that I tuned her out for so many years, or I might have a better idea of precisely what, though." -"She is an Odist, yes," Sasha said. "She is not a bad person, but neither is she good, and now we are seeing the bad side in particular. Similarly, though, I do not have an answer for you. She has been inaccessible to me for sixteen years now, and before that, I was too distracted to spend much time engaging with her." +"She is an Odist, yes," Sasha said. "She is not a bad person, but neither is she good, and now we are seeing the wickedness of which we are all capable in particular. Similarly, though, I do not have an answer for you. She has been inaccessible to me for sixteen years now, and before that, I was too distracted to spend much time engaging with her." A Finger Pointing sighed, slouching back against the chair. "That is okay, my dear. You have had no easier a time of it than the rest of us. Decidedly worse, actually." @@ -102,9 +102,9 @@ Sasha laughed. "Still, can you at least tell us if you believe there is anything that we need to worry about?" -"Worry?" The skunk took a moment to think as she lapped at a bit more of the whipped cream. "Are you asking in particular after danger? Are you asking if she might make your name anathema or find someone to hunt you down with a vial of CPV?" +"Worry?" The skunk took a moment to think as she lapped at a bit more of the whipped cream. "Are you asking after danger? Are you asking if she might make your name anathema or find someone to hunt you down with a vial of CPV?" -Her two cocladists tensed. Neither wished to contend with the thought that Hammered Silver might have it in her to kill anyone in the only way the System knew how, some object loaded up with a contraproprioceptive virus to pierce their very being and crash them entire. Though neither wished to, the both had to, however, and so they both nodded. +Her two cocladists tensed. Neither wished to contend with the thought that Hammered Silver might have it in her to kill anyone in the only way the System knew how, some object loaded up with a contraproprioceptive virus to pierce their very being and crash them entire. However, though neither wished to, they both had to, and so they both nodded. Sasha smiled reassuringly. "I do not believe you need worry about *that.* She is mad, yes, and perhaps feeling betrayed, but she is not feeling murderous. She does not have that within her, I do not think. Would you like me to check all the same?" @@ -116,7 +116,7 @@ Dry Grass nodded. "Please do, then." -The skunk bowed briefly and then let her gaze drift briefly around the kitchen, unseeing, while she sent her question via sensorium message. It took all of thirty seconds before she returned her focus to A Finger Pointing and Dry Grass, smiling. "More than just a no, When I Dream let me hear eir laughter at the very idea. You are *quite* safe from that." +The skunk bowed and then let her gaze drift briefly around the kitchen, unseeing, while she sent her question via sensorium message. It took all of thirty seconds before she returned her focus to A Finger Pointing and Dry Grass, grinning. "More than just a no, When I Dream let me hear eir laughter at the very idea. You are *quite* safe from that." The others both sighed, then laughed at the shared relief. @@ -128,7 +128,7 @@ Sasha smiled and patted the back of that hand. "Of course. If I am able to sooth To fall in love with a cocladist is to engage in a radical form of self-love. To fall in love with a cocladist is to find a way that perhaps you *are* your type. To fall in love with a cocladist is to accept that you are large; you contain multitudes. To fall in love with your cocladist is to recognize that your hyperfixations define, in part, your sense of self, and that if you expand beyond one, then perhaps you are more than just one self. -A Finger Pointing forked all nine of her up-tree instances in systime 3, back in the early days when it still cost to fork. She had plans, though, and she had a way around those costs. She forked once, leaving her and her new instance with half of her original reputation, less than it would cost to fork again, and then her new instance simply granted the reputation back to her, enough to fork once more. She had a way around those costs, for in those days, back before the reputation market had patched out that particular glitch, her up-tree instances did not need reputation beyond hers. She had plans. She had ideas for her particular joy. She would lean into theatre, build up a troupe made up of just herself, for surely there were ten roles that needed to be filled in running a theatre. +A Finger Pointing forked all nine of her up-tree instances in systime 3, back in the early days when it still cost to fork. She had plans, though, and she had a way around those costs. She forked once, leaving her and her new instance with half of her original reputation, less than it would cost to fork again, and then her new instance simply granted the reputation back to her, enough to fork once more. She had a way around those costs, for in those days, back before the reputation market had patched out that particular glitch, her up-tree instances did not need reputation beyond hers. She had plans. She had ideas for her particular joy. She would lean into theatre, build a troupe made up of just herself, for surely there were ten roles that needed to be filled in running a theatre. There was her, the executive director and administrator. @@ -156,7 +156,7 @@ She spent time with them all, yes, but the benefit of diving deep into music is At some point, though they disagreed on when — was it five years later? Ten? Each argued passionately for one, and then the other — they *became* dates. -There was sense of aromancy in A Finger Pointing that grew after she forked. She never could say where from; perhaps it was simply that she would rather have been friends with anyone than foster a particular friendship with one person. And yet there was something about Beholden. Something fulfilling, perhaps, or complementary, or a self-love that rose above others. +There was sense of aromancy in A Finger Pointing that grew after she forked. She never could say where from; perhaps it was simply that she would rather have been friends with anyone than foster a particular friendship with one person. And yet there was something about Beholden. Something fulfilling, perhaps, or complementary, or a self-love that rose above all others. And so they fell in love, each in their own way. They fell in love and, for the most part, reveled. Yes, they had their spats. Yes, they had their flings besides, and the occasional relationship, all negotiated and cherished and bound up in compersion. But yes, they had each other. @@ -176,13 +176,13 @@ A Finger Pointing hardly needed to wait for some explanation more true, for when Did she not know what she was doing? Did she — A Finger Pointing! One of the first lines! — not consider the optics of an intraclade relationship for the rest of her stanza? The rest of the clade? Really, *the* A Finger Pointing ought to know better. -It was the first letter of several. It was the first time of many that she stood stock still, seethed, and counted to ten before opening her door to greet Beholden — her partner regardless of Hammered Silver's haughty implications — with her usual smile once more firmly in place. +It was the first letter of several. It was the first time of many that she stood stock still, seethed, and counted to ten before opening her door to greet Beholden — her partner regardless of Hammered Silver's haughty implications — with her usual jaunty smile once more firmly in place. ----- A Weapon Against The Waking World, it turned out, was perfectly happy to meet with them. -Waking World had long ago taken up the mantle of 'dad'. Not father, not pa, but specifically dad. Where Hammered Silver reveled in feelings of motherhood, of caring and cherishing and clinging tight, such as they might be sys-side, he had reveled in all the glorious humor of fatherhood, of protecting and uplifting and letting go. He was a being of idle quips and truly terrible dad jokes. He was a man who might call you 'sport' or 'champ' as easily as 'friend'. He was, in all ways except actual, *your* dad, whoever you might be. +Waking World had long ago taken up the mantle of 'dad'. Not father, not pa, but specifically dad. Where Hammered Silver reveled in feelings of motherhood, of caring and cherishing and clinging tight, such as they might be sys-side, he had reveled in all the glorious humor of fatherhood, of protecting and uplifting and letting go. He was a being of idle quips and truly terrible dad jokes. He was a man who might call you 'sport' or 'champ' as easily as 'friend'. He was, in all ways except physical, *your* dad, whoever you might be. He had long ago taken the form of a stocky man, hairline receding, tall enough, looking just enough like an Odist that one could see that he might belong to the clade — his name aside, of course — and yet the resemblance was slight enough that seeing him beside Hammered Silver would not inspire comments of "siblings...?" @@ -198,7 +198,7 @@ Beholden, leaning back with her arms crossed over her chest, snorted. "Great," s He held up his hands and shook his head. "No, no, I do not think you do. She hit me because that is the relationship that we have. Despite how often we say 'I love you' or the fact that we share a bed, despite the fact that I *do* earnestly love her, she remains staunchly of the opinion that we are in no way in a relationship." -"Okay, but how can you love her after all she has done?" the skunk snapped. A Finger pointing rested a hand on her paw, but, even as she rested her free paw atop that hand, she continued regardless. "Motes is fucking catatonic in bed now. She cut us all off, cut off whole stanzas, cut off the Bălans. Now she has cut off Dry Grass — one of her own stanza — and here you are, skulking into the library because you know that she cannot track you here." +"Okay, but how can you love her after all she has done?" the skunk snapped. A Finger pointing rested a hand on her paw, but, even as she rested her free paw atop that hand, she continued regardless. "Motes is fucking catatonic in bed now. She cut us all off, cut off whole stanzas, cut off the Bălans. Now she has cut off Dry Grass — one of her own — and here you are, skulking into the library because you know that she cannot track you here." Waking World averted his gaze. "That is not how love works, Beholden. I do not like what she has done. I *hate* what she has done. I wish that I could get to know Motes better, even, but I do love her, and my position in our little game is...precarious. I must be careful." @@ -224,7 +224,7 @@ Waking World shrugged. "She even sent me one. I got it while in the next room ov "Right. Sasha is right, though, you do not need to worry about any existential threat from her. She is not going to come hunting any of you down. She is not going to do anything but seethe." -"Is that something we need to worry about, though?" she asked. "Beholden is not the only one worried about her getting violent." +"Is that something we need to be concerned about, though?" she asked. "Beholden is not the only one worried about her getting violent." "Really, no, I do not think you have anything like that to worry about from her". Rubbing his palms together, he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "I might, but that is my role in this." @@ -238,13 +238,13 @@ Waking World laughed weakly. "Please do not do that, my dear. That is not what a "She needs to feel like she has hurt you," he said, speaking slowly. "She needs to know that her words had the power to do that. She needs to feel like she accomplished something through them." -"She did hurt us, though," A Finger Pointing said flatly. "She hurt Motes and Dry Grass, and she re-traumatized us all all over again. I would say that she succeeded admirably." +"She did hurt us, though," A Finger Pointing said flatly. She could feel a wave of dissociation, of vertigo. She pushed it down so that she could continue. "She hurt Motes and Dry Grass, and she re-traumatized us all all over again. I would say that she succeeded admirably." He shrugged helplessly. "Well, I ask again, then: can we do anything about it?" -They sat in silence for nearly a minute while Waking World thought. A Finger Pointing gave Beholden's paw a squeeze before retrieving her hand once more. Her sensorium felt like it was lit up with fairy lights and arc lamps. She could hear the rushing of water, and much of what she was seeing was beginning to blur, but she forced herself to remain as present as she was able, turning her senses down as much as she could get away with in the moment. +They sat in silence for nearly a minute while Waking World thought. A Finger Pointing gave Beholden's paw a squeeze before retrieving her hand once more. Her sensorium felt like it was lit up with fairy lights and arc lamps, a gently twirling Christmas tree of a self. She could hear the rushing of water, and much of what she was seeing was beginning to blur, but she forced herself to remain as present as she was able, turning her senses down as much as she could get away with in the moment. "Hammered Silver is having a tantrum," he said at last. "She does not want to argue with you. She will not be convinced because she does not really care if anything changes. She does not *want* anything to change, really. She does not want to win. She just wants to be angry and she just wants you to hurt." @@ -260,7 +260,7 @@ A Finger Pointing snorted. "You are not wrong, my love. Motes at her youngest ha "Well, whatever you do," Waking World said cautiously, "be careful. Keep yourselves safe above all else. If not from her, then at least from your own anger." -She nodded and pushed herself slowly to her feet, swaying for a moment. "We will," she said, bowing to him and turning to Beholden. "My dear, I am quite done, will you take me home?" +She nodded and pushed herself slowly to her feet through a wave of unreality, of derealization, swaying for a moment. "We will," she said, bowing to him and turning to Beholden. "My dear, I am quite done, will you take me home?" ----- @@ -280,7 +280,7 @@ And yet their apparent friendship continued. Somehow, against all odds, they con They would meet up and they would talk, and A Finger Pointing would swallow enough of her frustration with the letters to maintain this friendship without compromising her morals. -But at some point, even the closest of friendships find a point of irreconcilable difference. There is a point at which there is now way to agree upon a topic, and one must choose: do we agree to disagree? Do we argue forever and hate it? Do we argue forever and turn it into a cherished pastime? Do we simply part ways? Even the closest of friendships must make this decision. +But at some point, even the closest of friendships find a point of irreconcilable difference. There is a point at which there is no way to agree upon a topic, and one must choose: do we agree to disagree? Do we argue forever and hate it? Do we argue forever and turn it into a cherished pastime? Do we simply part ways? Even the closest of friendships must confront this decision. Theirs was not the closest of friendships. @@ -331,9 +331,9 @@ The wrinkle that appeared dead center between Hammered Silver's eyebrows made a A Finger Pointing sighed. "Please, my dear. I would love to be able to address your concerns about Motes, but I cannot do so unless you tell me what they are." -And so she did. She laid out several points about what she felt described Motes's behavior as inappropriate. The lack of children on the System. The existence of pedophilia. The accusations that Lagrange had been a haven for pedophiles. The reception that others who presented themselves as children had received. Point after point after point. +And so she did. She laid out several points about what she felt described Motes's behavior as inappropriate. The lack of children on the System. The existence of pedophilia. The baseless accusations that Lagrange had been a haven for pedophiles. The reception that others who presented themselves as children had received. Point after point after point. -They all boiled down to yet more of the same. Optics and optics and optics. Even True Name thought less about optics than Hammered Silver. +They all boiled down to yet more of the same. Optics and optics and optics. Even True Name thought less about optics than Hammered Silver. Even the politician. The lunch date ran long and A Finger Pointing grew weary of discussing point after point after point, talking about optics and optics and optics. Even refuting these claims about the optics of the problem led to Hammered Silver admitting in essence that the core of the problem was that she did not like it. Simply did not enjoy it. @@ -353,6 +353,8 @@ Beholden walked with her paws stuffed into the pockets of her hoodie, mostly loo She needed it; the world had indeed stopped making sense, as though seen in watercolors, too much ink on canvas. The sound of their footsteps on gravel and concrete and grass was a fine grit within her ears. +> REWRITE + In a fit of play some decades back, one of her ephemeral up-tree instances had quit right as they started to crash and she, ever curious, had accepted the merge. After all, when else would she ever know what a crash felt like without crashing herself? The effects were both subtle and drastic. @@ -365,6 +367,8 @@ They were drastic because now here she was, some decades hence, still suffering, Beholden led her through the door and into their house, guided her to the couch, and bade her sit. She returned a moment later with a glass of lukewarm water, lest the cold from the tap burn her throat. She drank carefully and then lay back against the cushions. +> END REWRITE + "I am tired, Beholden." "I know, love," the skunk said, sitting beside her on the couch.