makyo
/
zk
1
0
Fork 0
Code Issues Pull Requests Projects Releases Wiki Activity

update from sparkleup

This commit is contained in:
Madison Scott-Clary 2024-01-16 19:05:06 -08:00
parent 3c4453eaa6
commit beb4aa5859
1 changed files with 52 additions and 3 deletions
Show Stats Download Patch File Download Diff File Expand all files Collapse all files

55
writing/post-self/motes/007.md
View File

@ -466,7 +466,56 @@ That was the time their friendship died, the moment A Finger Pointing received t
-----
Once she had had her water, and then a simple drink mixed by Beholden, and spent an hour resting, A Finger Pointing stood and walked to the back patio, out where the
((Contacting Hammered Silver))
Once she had had her water, and then a simple drink mixed by Beholden, and spent an hour resting, A Finger Pointing stood and walked to the back patio, out where the concrete ended in a sharp seam and the wild grass of the field threatened to tickle at her ankles, were it not for socks and slacks.
((fallout, or move to next chapter in conversation))
She forked, and her new instance moved to stand facing her. When she nodded, the instance opened a simplex sensorium message to Hammered Silver. It was essentially a recording of whatever the instance saw and heard that would be sent to Hammered Silver when she was finished.
"Memory Is A Mirror Of Hammered Silver," she began, bowing toward her recording instance. "I will not apologize for breaking our silence, but I will allow it to fall over us once more after I am finished with this message. This is simply too important for me to leave unsaid.
"The letters that you have sent to me, Dry Grass, and Motes have left in their wake a pain that I cannot adequately describe. Motes was pushed almost immediately into overflowing, leaving her all but catatonic and unable to interact with the world." She laughed, letting the exhaustion she felt show through along with the very real pain. "Hell, I wish that I could do the same right now, myself."
She sighed, took a moment to reclaim her calm, and continued from there. "I understand that we have irreconcilable differences of opinion on this. I will not attempt to sway you, just as I know that you will not attempt to sway me. That is the point of this no-contact order that you have levied, broken, and then reinforced."
She cursed herself mentally for that 'broken', a little bit of her anger showing through. She only hoped that it came across as yet more pain. She did not want this to turn into a fight.
"I will follow that order to the best of my abilities going forward, but you must understand that you have wounded us, well and truly." She bowed once more before saying, "I will expect no reply," and then falling silent.
Her recording instance sighed once the message was sent and then quit.
With that done, she turned to face out to the prairie, and spent a few minutes just enjoying a little bit of stillness, a little bit of quiet. The air was just on the cool side of perfect. There was the smell of rain. The sky was gray without being bruised.
And then, with a small ping of a notification, an envelope blipped into being at eye level and fluttered down to the ground before her.
"Of course," she mumbled, bending down to pick it up. Sure enough, it bore the expected handwriting, the expected address.
> **To:** Time Is A Finger Pointing At Itself of the Ode clade **(EYES-ONLY)**
> **From:** Memory Is A Mirror Of Hammered Silver of the Ode clade
> **On:** systime 238+292
>
> Time Is A Finger Pointing At Itself,
>
> I have received your message. I appreciate your acknowledgment that you will not change my mind. I hope that you consider that this is because there is a correct and incorrect way of thinking about these issues.
>
> May the pain be instructive, and may the silence between our stanzas be complete.
>
> Memory Is A Mirror Of Hammered Silver
She read the letter through twice and then committed it to an exocortex and destroyed the original.
"What a fucking bitch," she muttered to herself as she turned to return inside. "At least it fucking worked."
A simple dinner. A few glasses of wine. A quiet evening saying nothing while she lounged with her head on Beholden's lap while the skunk worked.
As darkness fell, as they planned on bed, she checked up on Motes for herself.
The skunk lay tightly curled beneath her covers, a pillow in her arms, eyes clenched tightly shut. She was tempted to stand there for a few minutes, simply watching her charge, her Dot, sleep.
Or...not sleep, but withdraw from the waking world.
Better to show what she could without bothering the girl too much, so she stepped quietly into the room and climbed up onto Motes's bed with her, curling behind her and draping an arm across her.
"I love you, Dot," she mumbled, burying her face against the back of the skunk's neck. "I am sorry."
There was more she could say — so much more — but for some reason, words failed her after that. Words and will both failed her, and so she simply lay there with Motes, replying to Beholden's gentle, inquiring ping with a soothing one of her own.
She lay there until she felt Motes slowly relax beneath her arm, heard her breathing slow, and then for a while after.