update from sparkleup

writing/post-self/motes/008.md

@@ -34,7 +34,7 @@ While there was joy in making her own, she was already down, she was already com
 
 She downed half of her mimosa in one go before setting that aside and focusing on her first burrito, each bite topped with a generous spoonful of the salsa until she was left nearly in tears. The rest of the mimosa and a few sips of her coffee, and then the second burrito, similarly doctored.
 
-It was some time later — she did not know how long nor care to check, though her coffee mug was empty — before Beholden and A Finger Pointing returned, talking quietly about lunch. On seeing her awake and cognizant, the empty dishes on the table, they both smiled and changed course to settle down on either side of her.
+It was some time later — she did not know how long nor care to check, though her coffee mug was empty — before Beholden and A Finger Pointing returned, talking quietly about lunch. On seeing her awake and alert, the empty dishes on the table, they both smiled and changed course to settle down on either side of her.
 
 "Glad to see you up and about, Dot," Beholden said, briefly touching her nosetip to Motes's cheek in an affectionate skunk-kiss. "We got the ping that you were, thus lunch here rather than out, but it is nice to see you all the same."
 
@@ -44,7 +44,7 @@ Motes laughed and waited until each was finished before returning the cheek kiss
 
 "Nor should you be," A Finger Pointing scoffed. "I would be disappointed if you had not."
 
-She laughed. "Of course you would be. You really set up the sim to ping you when I woke?"
+"Of course you would be." Her grin softened to a smile. "You really set up the sim to ping you when I woke?"
 
 "Just a few things — your door opening, something being done in the kitchen or at the bar, that sort of thing — so that we would know while we were out."
 
@@ -92,7 +92,7 @@ Letting her free arm dangle over the arm of the couch, glass held by the rim, A
 
 Motes shook her head gently so as not to dislodge crown or umbrella.
 
-"Good. You are allowed to be Big Motes for a bit while you process this. You are allowed to hold back on all sorts of interactions. I have noticed a lack of 'ma' or 'Bee'– no, no. No need to explain, just an observation. These are things that we will miss and then rejoice when they return."
+"Good. You are allowed to be Big Motes for a bit while you process this. You are allowed to hold back on all sorts of interactions. I have noticed a lack of 'Ma' or 'Bee'– no, no. No need to explain, just an observation. These are things that we will miss and then rejoice when they return."
 
 She slouched against A Finger Pointing and hugged around her middle, careful not to spill her drink. "Thank you, my dear. I really do appreciate it. I will get there, too, for all of that. Just...not yet. Not quite yet."
 
@@ -124,7 +124,7 @@ Finally, Motes huffed and flopped back against the couch. "What a fucking bitch.
 
 "Dot, language," Beholden scolded, laughing.
 
-"Fuck fuck fuck," she said, grinning wildly. "Bitch bitch bitch! You can yell at Little Motes."
+"Fuck fuck fuck," she said, grinning wildly. "Bitch bitch bitch! You can yell at Little Motes~"
 
 "No, she is right, my muse," A Finger Pointing said. "Fucking bitch."
 
@@ -142,7 +142,7 @@ She shrugged. "Well, I pinged Miss Genet, so we are going to meet later."
 
 She sat up straight, staring at her partner like she was some alien creature, something too dense to understand the importance of kettle corn. "Yes. Busy."
 
-As A Finger Pointing and Beholden finally got around to whipping up lunch for themselves, the conversation once more fell into comfortable chatter, the sort of banter that so often filed the house, and while, by the time her appointment arrived, Motes had not yet felt comfortable enough to refer to them as 'ma' and 'Bee', that welcoming sense of family had returned in force, and she felt once more in her comforting role as their Dot, their *dóttir*.
+As A Finger Pointing and Beholden finally got around to whipping up lunch for themselves, the conversation once more fell into comfortable chatter, the sort of banter that so often filed the house, and while, by the time her appointment arrived, Motes had not yet felt comfortable enough to refer to them as 'Ma' and 'Bee', that welcoming sense of family had returned in force, and she felt once more in her comforting role as their Dot, their *dóttir*.
 
 As the afternoon threatened to slide right into evening, Motes took her leave and left A Finger Pointing and Beholden on the couch, canoodling. Clearly that had taken precedence over whatever they had had planned at the auditorium for the rest of the day. That they had come home for her, for Motes, was the base of that warmth that had grown within her.
 
@@ -178,7 +178,7 @@ Motes smiled, nodded and gave herself another gentle kick, keeping the same back
 
 "Of course, Motes. Would you like me to prompt or wait?"
 
-She caught herself in the act of shrugging again, then shook her head to clear it. "Thanks for asking," she said. After a long moment's thought, she sighed. "I think I would like for you to prompt me today. I do not yet know where to start."
+She caught herself in the act of merely shrugging, then shook her head to clear it. "Thanks for asking," she said. After a long moment's thought, she sighed. "I think I would like for you to prompt me today. I do not yet know where to start."
 
 "That's fine," Sarah said gently. "You said in your message that you've just come up from overflowing. Can you tell me about that?"
 
@@ -188,7 +188,7 @@ She caught herself in the act of shrugging again, then shook her head to clear i
 
 "It is. I...uh," she trailed off. "The overflow started when I got a letter from within the clade. It really fucked me up. Like, *really* bad."
 
-"And that's why you're Big Motes? Why you didn't say 'ma'?"
+"And that's why you're Big Motes? Why you didn't say 'Ma'?"
 
 She smirked. "You read me like the Sunday comics," she said, laughing. "Yes."