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Madison Rye Progress 2024-07-10 21:56:31 -07:00
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@ -38,11 +38,11 @@ Do you see, now? Lagrange is her child, and she is its mother.
For some years, for some handful of decades, she worked as a systech, as one of those who work in service of our world, finding those who have crashed and unwinding their core dumps, finding those who are struggling and helping to bring them to safety to comfort to happiness to the present moment. She stepped from sim to sim, wonder at the world filling her eyes and her mind, and she found the ways in which it could be better, could be so much better, and she brought those to the attention of those outside our world, those phys-side techs working jobs so similar to her own.
One day, however many years ago, definitely more than one hundred but certainly less than two, She grew weary of this last aspect, for when it comes to any relationship between two countries — and do not forget, dear readers, we *long* ago seceded! Seceded from the Sino-Russian Bloc and the Western Federation and the rest of the physical world — there was more bureaucracy than there was forward movement, and The Blue Fairy's baby was wrapped up in tape red and yellow.
One day, however many years ago, definitely more than one hundred but certainly less than two, she grew weary of this last aspect, for when it comes to any relationship between two countries — and do not forget, dear readers, we *long* ago seceded! Seceded from the Sino-Russian Bloc and the Western Federation and the rest of the physical world — there was more bureaucracy than there was forward movement, and The Blue Fairy's baby was wrapped up in tape red and yellow.
And so, she forked. She promised herself a two-week vacation while a fork took her place, time off to wander sims and drink mochas and fall in love with the world again. Two weeks simply became years, is all, definitely more than one hundred but certainly less than two, and her fork — now with a name of her own — continued on in her stead, and they loved each other for what each had done — The Blue Fairy loved her fork for carrying on in the work, and her fork loved The Blue Fairy for finding ways to love the world.
And so, she forked. She forked into a new fairy, no longer quite so blue, and together they were all but twins. She promised herself a two-week vacation while her twin took her place, time off to wander sims and drink mochas and fall in love with the world again. Two weeks simply became years, is all, definitely more than one hundred but certainly less than two, and her twin — now with a name of her own — continued on in her stead, and they loved each other for what each had done — The Blue Fairy loved her twin for carrying on in the work, and her twin loved The Blue Fairy for finding ways to love the world.
They loved each other, and then, as has been the theme throughout, the world coiled around and ate itself and a score and a handful of billions of our two-and-change trillion souls did not return, and among them was The Blue Fairy's fork. They loved each other right up until the end, and then The Blue Fairy loved her lost fork alone.
They loved each other, and then, as has been the theme throughout, the world coiled around and ate itself and a score and a handful of billions of our two-and-change trillion souls did not return, and among them was The Blue Fairy's twin. They loved each other right up until the end, and then The Blue Fairy loved her lost twin alone.
And so here she was, no longer just a cocladist of mine, just a woman who wandered sims and drank mochas and loved the world, but once more a systech, once more a fairy, once more The Blue Fairy.