diff --git a/writing/post-self/toledot/launch/launch/Codrin-castor/001.md b/writing/post-self/toledot/launch/launch/Codrin-castor/001.md
index 63a04630..90c9769a 100644
--- a/writing/post-self/toledot/launch/launch/Codrin-castor/001.md
+++ b/writing/post-self/toledot/launch/launch/Codrin-castor/001.md
@@ -1,16 +1,18 @@
 # Codrin Bălan#Castor --- 2325
 
-After their "deaths", such as they were, Dear cackled madly and ran about the still roaring bonfire, prancing and leaping, forking dozens of copies as it went. Its sim had been set up in the Launch Systems, both Castor and Pollux precisely as it had in the L<sub>5</sub> System, down to all of the decorations and flames. As soon as they had transferred themselves over to those systems --- something which they had been told would take several minutes across the micro-Ansibles connecting the three systems, but which was as subjectively instantaneous as any normal transit --- they were alone. The crowd was gone, the singing was gone, and any chance of reversibility had gone with. There was no way that Codrin or Dear or Dear's partner could ever go back, as the transit was one-way. *"There is no going and there is no back,"* Dear had been saying for months now.
+After their "deaths", such as they were, Dear cackled madly and ran about the still roaring bonfire, prancing and leaping, forking dozens of copies as it went. Its sim had been set up in the Launch Systems, both Castor and Pollux, precisely as it had in the L<sub>5</sub> System, down to all of the decorations and flames. As soon as they had transferred themselves over to those systems --- something which they had been told would take several minutes across the micro-Ansibles connecting the three systems, but which was as subjectively instantaneous as any normal transit --- they were alone. The crowd was gone, the singing was gone, and any chance of reversibility had gone with. There was no way that Codrin or Dear or Dear's partner could ever go back, as the transit was one-way. *"There is no going and there is no back,"* Dear had been saying for months now.
 
 *"It is done! It is done!* the fox hollered. *"It is done and those poor saps did not even get to finish their song! Oh, to see their faces! Crumbling sim, friends forever cut off!"*
 
 Dear's partner also laughed, hopping to their feet and chasing after the fox in a mad dash, leaving Codrin to sit and smile and watch and think.
 
-There was no more Codrin in the L<sub>5</sub> System. Had ey ever existed there? Ey was only memories, and perhaps that is all ey had ever been. Navel gazing and existential crises mixed with the glee of having actually *done* something. No longer just the passive amanuensis, but now the active participant, to whatever extent.
+There was no more Codrin in the L<sub>5</sub> System. Ey couldn't remember being there, for were the sims not the same? And if ey had never been there, had ey ever really existed there? Ey was only memories, and perhaps that is all ey had ever been. Navel gazing and existential crises mixed with the glee of having actually *done* something. No longer just the passive amanuensis, but now the active participant, to whatever extent.
+
+Or, well, nearly so, for it was Dear who talked em into this.
 
 When Dear and its partner finally collapsed into a laughing heap amid the dandelions and shortgrass, Codrin stood, raised eir hands to the fire-dimmed sky, and addressed fox and human and flames. "Hwæt! We great three have made it! We have made it to safety and sanctuary!"
 
-Dear rolled up and focused on Codrin with a singular intensity that ey had seen countless times before and yet never gotten used to.
+Dear rolled up and immediately focused on Codrin with a singular intensity that ey had seen countless times before and yet never gotten used to.
 
 "We three, the heroes, the shield-bearers of Elf Hive had long since sought the beast. It lived in the caves, they said. It dwelt in the fields and disguised itself as tall grass, ready to ensnare the traveler. It was as large as a mountain and crouched beside the valley, unseen, traversed, summited, and still it claimed lives in its hunger. Who knows the truth, now, but us three? None who met its gaze had ever lived to tell the tale, and none now will ever hear, for we are the only ones who have seen it face to face and lived, and yet we escaped only by jumping from the world up to the heavens.
 
@@ -30,7 +32,7 @@ Dear rolled up and focused on Codrin with a singular intensity that ey had seen
 
 *"No swords could cut it!"*
 
-"No spears could pierce it."
+"No spears could pierce it!"
 
 "--and all we could do was hold off its attack to run away until true darkness fell and we could finally rest. The next morning we would take off running, and hope to gain some distance, but always the beast was there, ready and waiting--"
 
@@ -116,7 +118,7 @@ For as much as they had downplayed their ability, Codrin was pleasantly surprise
 
 "Weird though. They skipped the fire and went straight to beheading!" They finished with a bow and sat down grinning at the hearty applause. Both Dear and Codrin leaned in to give them a kiss on the cheek.
 
-There was silence for a while as the three of them sat and drank their ale and looked at the fire or looked at each other or looked at nothing. Perhaps they left for the prairie. Perhaps they huddled by the fire in shared warmth. Who knows? It did not matter in that moment. They were home, and they were together.
+There was silence for a while as the three of them sat and drank their ale and looked at the fire or looked at each other or looked at nothing. Perhaps they left to walk the prairie. Perhaps they huddled by the fire in shared warmth. Who knows? It did not matter in that moment. They were home, and they were together.
 
 It was only later, when Dear and Codrin had curled together in bed --- Dear's partner having fallen asleep on the couch --- that the fox elbowed Codrin in the side, and ey could hear the grin in its voice. *"Beowulf? You are such a nerd."*
 
@@ -134,7 +136,7 @@ Codrin poked a finger against the fox's stomach, getting a yip in return. "Did y
 
 "Happy to oblige."
 
-There was silence for a bit. Codrin had begun to nod off.
+There was silence for a bit. Codrin began to nod off.
 
 *"Codrin?"*
 
diff --git a/writing/post-self/toledot/launch/phys/Douglas/001.md b/writing/post-self/toledot/launch/phys/Douglas/001.md
index f3c9f7e3..c07c38b6 100644
--- a/writing/post-self/toledot/launch/phys/Douglas/001.md
+++ b/writing/post-self/toledot/launch/phys/Douglas/001.md
@@ -2,7 +2,7 @@
 
 When Douglas Hadje pressed his hands against the sides of the L<sub>5</sub> System, he always imagined that he could sense his aunt along with however many 'great's preceded that title, sense all of those years separating him from her, and he pressed his hands against the outside of the system every chance that he could get. If he was sure that he was alone --- and he often was --- he would press his forehead to the glassy, diamondoid cylinder and wish, hope, dream that he could say even one word to her. His people, now nearly two centuries distant from the founding of the System, forever felt on the verge of true speciation, of mutual incomprehensibility, from those within. Did they still think they same? Did they still feel the same? Their hopes were doubtless different, but were their dreams?
 
-But always his hands were separated from the structure by that thin layer of skinsuit, and always his helmet was in the way of the diamond shell, and always he was at least one reality away from them.
+But always his hands were separated from the structure by that thin layer of skinsuit, and always his helmet was in the way of the carbon shell, and always he was at least one reality away from them.
 
 He would spend his five minutes there, connected and not by touch, thinking of this or that, thinking of nothing at all, and then he would kick away from the cylinder out the dozen or so meters to the ceiling of his home, climb through the airlock, and perhaps go lay down.
 
@@ -12,25 +12,27 @@ But he never spoke, and he always closed his eyes. For some unknown reason, he w
 
 The System sat stationary at the Earth-Moon L<sub>5</sub> point, a stable orbit with relation to the Earth and moon such that it only very rarely required any correction to its position. Once a day, as the point rotated beyond Earth from the point of view of the sun and more briefly by the moon, it fell into darkness, but other than that, it was bathed in sunlight unmoderated by atmosphere. It rotated at a stately pace in relation to the moon and Earth such that its vast solar collector was always pointed toward the sun.
 
-The station itself comprised three main parts. At the core of the station was the diamondoid cylinder, fifty meters in diameter and five hundred meters in length. The solar collector was attached to the end of the cylinder facing the sun, spreading out in a series of one hundred sixty thousand replaceable panels, one meter square each, held in a lattice of carbon fiber struts. Surrounding the cylinder was a torus, two hundred meters in diameter and as long as core cylinder itself, such that it was forever hidden from the sun by the solar collectors. Seventy-seven acres, of living space, working space, factories, and arable land, all lit by bundles of doped fiber optic cables which collected and distributed the light from space and cast it down from the ceiling. The entire contraption rotated nearly three times per minute, fast enough that he had an approximation of Earth's gravity.
+The station itself comprised three main parts. At the core of the station was the diamondoid cylinder, fifty meters in diameter and five hundred meters in length. The solar collector was attached to the sunward end of the cylinder, spreading out in a series of one hundred sixty thousand replaceable panels, one meter square each, held in a lattice of carbon fiber struts. Surrounding the cylinder was a torus, two hundred meters in diameter and as long as core cylinder itself, such that it was forever hidden from the sun by the solar collectors. Seventy-seven acres, of living space, working space, factories, and arable land, all lit by bundles of doped fiber optic cables which collected and distributed the light from space and cast it down from the ceiling. The entire contraption rotated nearly three times per minute, fast enough that he had an approximation of Earth's gravity.
 
 That is where Douglas lived along with about twenty others.
 
 To fund such a project, the torus had originally operated as a tourist destination. Many of the living spaces consisted of repurposed hotel rooms. It had long since ceased to serve in that capacity as humanity's curiosity for space dwindled and spaceflight from earth once again began to rise in price.
 
-To build such a project, the area had been cleared of much of the Trojan asteroids that had collected there, either used for raw materials or slung out into space into eccentric orbits that would keep them from impacting earth or winding up once again captured in the same Legrange point. Even still, one of the many jobs was to monitor the area for newly captured asteroids and divert or collect them as needed. The material could be used for new solar panels, or perhaps the two five thousand kilometer long launch arms sprouting on opposing sides of the torus, the Hall Force Engines that kept the rotation of the system constant as the arms had been extruded from its surface, or of course the two new cylindrical systems at the tips of those arms that had, over the last two decades, been constructed as half-scale duplicates of the core.
+To build such a project, the area had been cleared of much of the Trojan asteroids that had collected there, either used for raw materials or slung out into space into eccentric orbits that would keep them from impacting earth or winding up once again captured in the same Legrange point. Even still, one of the many jobs was to monitor the area for newly captured rocks and divert or collect them as needed. The material could be used for new solar panels, or perhaps the two five thousand kilometer long launch arms sprouting on opposing sides of the torus, the Hall Effect Engines that kept the rotation of the system constant as the arms had been extruded from its surface, or of course the two new cylindrical systems at the tips of those arms that had, over the last two decades, been constructed as half-scale duplicates of the core.
 
 Little of this mattered to Douglas.
 
 He was, he was forever told, a people person. He was an administrator, a boss, a manager. It was his job to direct and guide and herd people into doing what was required for this twenty-year project. He was forever told that he had the empathy and skills to lead, though he forever doubted it
 
-He cared about this with a fervor that was dimmed only by the idea that, somewhere within the mirror-box that was the System cylinder, his ancestor dwelt.
+He cared about this with a fervor that was dimmed only by the idea that, somewhere within the mirror-box that was the System cylinder, his distant aunt dwelt.
 
-Douglas was the launch director. He was the *director*. He was high enough on the food chain that he had access to the textual communication line that connected the phys-side world to the sys-side world. He was the director, and he knew that, if he wished, all he need do was pull up the program and type up a letter, run it past security, and click 'send', and Michelle, his generations-gone aunt, would somehow receive it.
+Douglas was the launch director. He was the *director*. He was high enough on the food chain that he had ungated access to the textual communication line that connected the phys-side world to the sys-side world. He was the director, and he knew that, if he wished, all he need do was pull up the program and type up a letter, run it past security, and click 'send', and Michelle, his generations-gone aunt, would somehow receive it.
 
-And yet he never did. He didn't know why. He asked himself again and again what it was that kept him from reaching out to her. Was it that speciation? Was it the confounding societal differences? Was it that unfathomable distance between the physical and the dream? He did not know, he did not know.
+And yet he never did.
 
-Instead, he worked. He oversaw the construction of the launch systems, those two smaller cylinders that would be, before long now, released from either end of the launch arms at incredible speed. He worked with the sys-side launch coordinator to ensure that everything was working appropriately, that the micro-Ansible connection between the main system and the launch vessels was appropriately transferring entire identities.
+He didn't know why. He asked himself again and again what it was that kept him from reaching out to her. Was it that speciation? Was it the confounding societal differences? Was it that unfathomable distance between the physical and the dream? He did not know, he did not know.
+
+Instead, he worked. He oversaw the construction of the Launch Vehicle Systems, those two smaller cylinders that would be, in a few days, released from either end of the launch arms at incredible speed. He worked with the sys-side launch coordinator to ensure that everything was working appropriately, that the micro-Ansible connection between the main system and the launch vessels was appropriately transferring entire identities.
 
 Who this coordinator was, this confusingly-named May Then My Name Die With Me, he had no idea.
 
@@ -153,7 +155,7 @@ May Then My Name Die With Me of the Ode Clade
 >
 > Thank you for the updated status report. I am looking forward to the launch, and will provide you the best textual description that I am able as it happens from phys-side. I will attempt to provide real-time updates, though the exigencies of the situation will take precedence. Congratulations on making it this far, and thank you for all of your help. Status report follows.
 >
-> While we were largely baffled by the nature of your question, the launch commission and myself have accepted the task of aiding you and your companion in your history/mythology project. Answers(?) will follow in a separate message.
+> While we were largely baffled by the nature of your questions, the launch commission and myself have accepted the task of aiding you and your companion in your history/mythology project. Answers(?) will follow in a separate message.
 >
 > Thank you,
 >
@@ -190,7 +192,7 @@ May Then My Name Die With Me of the Ode Clade
         * *Launch arm integrity:* 100% (go)
         * *Launch arm path:* Clear (go)
         * *Launch arm cameras:* 100% (go)
-        * *Launch vehicle path:* Clear to transsolar 1.8AU, 5 nines confidence (go)
+        * *Launch vehicle path:* Clear to 1.8AU, 5 nines confidence (go)
         * *Capacitor charge:* 6 nines, on track to 100% (go)
         * *Speed:* 100% (go)
         * *Expected acceleration:* Nominal (go)
@@ -200,7 +202,7 @@ May Then My Name Die With Me of the Ode Clade
         * *Launch arm integrity:* 100% (go)
         * *Launch arm path:* Clear (go)
         * *Launch arm cameras:* 100% (go)
-        * *Launch vehicle path:* Clear to cissolar 1.2AU, 5 nines confidence (go)
+        * *Launch vehicle path:* Clear to 1.2AU, 5 nines confidence (go)
         * *Capacitor charge:* 6 nines, on track to 100% (go)
         * *Speed:* 100% (go)
         * *Expected acceleration:* Nominal (go)
@@ -252,7 +254,7 @@ May Then My Name Die With Me of the Ode Clade
 
 ## Message stream
 
-**Phys-side:** The launch vehicles in their sabots are settled into their creches and the doors are shut. Everyone's excited, but I'm pleased at the calm efficiency of the control tower I'm in (Pollux). We are 1deg offset spinward from the launch arm, so we should be able to see the launch well enough, but the arm appears to disappear into nothingness after about 100m, so the show won't be great past then. We'll all be watching the cameras. Even those won't be very exciting, given the speed the LVs will be going. Models suggest that we might feel a jerk and fluctuation in gravity, that will be quickly compensated by the engines.
+**Phys-side:** The launch vehicles in their sabots are settled into their creches and the doors are shut. Everyone's excited, but I'm pleased at the calm efficiency of the control tower I'm in (Pollux). We are 1deg offset spinward from the launch arm, so we should be able to see the launch well enough, but the arm appears to disappear into nothingness "below" us after about 100m, so the show won't be great past then. We'll all be watching the cameras. Even those won't be very exciting, given the speed the LVs will be going. Models suggest that we might feel a jerk and fluctuation in gravity, that will be quickly compensated by the engines.
 
 **Phys-side:** Given your apparent interest in the subjective aspects of the launch, I have to say that I wish there was a big red button I could hit to trigger the launch. Wouldn't that be satisfying? I picture it like one of the keyboards, where there's some sort of spring in there, and a satisfying click as the button snaps down that last bit and makes some physical electric contact Everything's done on a timer, however, and the chances of any manual intervention being required are essentially zero. Everyone in the tower here is essentially in place to take in data and give reports. I didn't receive permission to pass those on directly, however, so you're left with them being filtered through yours truly.
 
@@ -276,7 +278,7 @@ May Then My Name Die With Me of the Ode Clade
 
 **Phys-side:** Did you feel anything up there?
 
-**Sys-side:** Har har. No, nothing up here. I, like you, wish that we had, though. If there had been some sudden jolt or a flicker of the lights, I think that perhaps this launch would have felt more real. I suspect that my cocladist, Dear, Also, The Tree That Was Felled, would have simulated an earthquake at the exact moment of launch, destroying its home in the process, but alas, it was one of those hopeless romantics who transferred entirely to the LVs without leaving a fork. I will have Ioan (my pet historian) ask if it did so from the LVs. I would not be surprised.
+**Sys-side:** Har har. No, nothing up here. I, like you, wish that we had, though. If there had been some sudden jolt or a flicker of the lights, I think that perhaps this launch would have felt more real. I suspect that my cocladist, Dear, Also, The Tree That Was Felled, would have simulated an earthquake at the exact moment of launch, destroying its home in the process, but alas, it was one of those hopeless romantics who transferred entirely to the LVs without leaving a fork. I will have Ioan (my pet historian) ask it if it did so from the LVs. I would not be surprised.
 
 **Phys-side:** Your clade sounds fascinating. I don't understand a single bit of it.
 
@@ -290,11 +292,11 @@ May Then My Name Die With Me of the Ode Clade
 
 **Phys-side:** Numb because there was nothing to see. Not even a flash. The LVs were here, and then they were gone, and I'll never see them again. Giddy because it worked. Telemetry is good, speed is nominal, entanglement is nominal, radio communication is nominal, though the rate at which message times are increasing is surprising, though I knew that this would happy. How neat is that?
 
-**Sys-side:** Very neat. I feel much the same. I feel numb for the reason I mentioned above. They were here, and then they were gone, and there was no feedback from the action. As planned, we are hogging all of the entanglement bandwidth with communication, some of which you will be receiving on other streams. This is where the numb and the giddy cross, as in some ways, it feels as though they never left (modulo the fact that Dear would almost certainly rather talk via sensorium messages rather than text, but Codrin (Dear's pet historian) is much suited to words. Giddy, though, because this remains exciting for all of us, both here and on the LVs, and already they diverge, already they are no longer the ones who left here, already they are no longer us.
+**Sys-side:** Very neat. I feel much the same. I feel numb for the reason I mentioned above. They were here, and then they were gone, and there was no feedback from the action. We are still talking despite this. This is where the numb and the giddy cross, as in some ways, it feels as though they never left (modulo the fact that Dear would almost certainly rather talk via sensorium messages rather than text, but Codrin (Dear's pet historian) is much suited to words. Giddy, though, because this remains exciting for all of us, both here and on the LVs, and already they diverge, already they are no longer the ones who left here, already they are no longer us.
 
 **Phys-side:** That's not something I can picture, but I'll trust you on that.
 
-**Sys-side:** Different worlds, different problems. I must see to writing, Douglas, congratulations once more, and I will stay in contact regarding the LVs and my research.
+**Sys-side:** Different worlds, different problems. I must see to Ioan and to writing. Douglas, congratulations once more, and I will stay in contact regarding the LVs and my research.
 
 **Phys-side:** Thank you for all your hard work, May Then My Name Die With Me.
 
diff --git a/writing/post-self/toledot/launch/phys/Douglas/003.md b/writing/post-self/toledot/launch/phys/Douglas/003.md
index 089ad044..7dc93c29 100644
--- a/writing/post-self/toledot/launch/phys/Douglas/003.md
+++ b/writing/post-self/toledot/launch/phys/Douglas/003.md
@@ -4,9 +4,9 @@ May Then My Name,
 
 As promised, I'm returning to the questions you asked. The launch went well, we had our party, and now my plate is mostly clear. I have a bit of work to do with the launch arms, but responsibility has shifted over to the flight coordinator. 
 
-I suspect that you are still interested in the subjective view of things. It's a little weird, not having so much to do all the time. I tried to sleep in this morning, but wasn't able to. Who knows, maybe I'll relax over time, or find something else to fill my days.
+I suspect that you are still interested in the subjective view of things. It's a little weird, not having so much to do all the time. I tried to sleep in this morning, but wasn't able to. Who knows, maybe I'll relax over time, or find something else to fill my days. Take up knitting. Something.
 
-Anyway, to your questions. These are very strange and cryptic, but in the spirit of building a mythology, I'll try to answer them in earnest. If you need clarifications, I'll be here.
+Anyway, to your questions. These were all very strange and cryptic, but in the spirit of building your mythology, I'll try to answer them in earnest. If you need clarifications, I'll be here.
 
 > How long have you been working as phys-side launch director?
 
@@ -26,11 +26,13 @@ I've always had a fascination with the System and just how different it was from
 
 > What led you to remain phys-side rather than uploading, yourself? Will you upload in the future? Why or why not?
 
-I think I answered the first part up above, but I will add to it that there is some aspect of fear that kept me from doing so. Or, maybe not fear, but intimidation, if that makes sense? I felt like I would be outclassed there. I would be able to rub elbows with folks from 210 years ago! It makes me feel small.
+I think I answered the first part up above, but I will add to it that there is some aspect of fear that kept me from doing so. Or, maybe not fear, but intimidation, if that makes sense? I felt like I would be outclassed there. I would be able to rub elbows with people from 210 years ago! It makes me feel small.
 
 Will I upload? I think so. I think when everything is finished out here and I can comfortably leave my position and say that I did a good job, I'll head back planet-side, go on a week-long bender, and then go to an upload clinic when I'm still hung over. I've done a lot out here. I've given decades of my life to the System, and I think it would be a fine place to retire.
 
-There is one other thing, and I hesitate to mention it because I'm not sure if it would be uncouth, but doubtless you recognize my name. My great-great-something aunt was Michelle Hadje, who was formative to the creation of the System itself, was one of the earliest uploads, one of what I think are called the 'founders'. I know that I could just message her. I *want* to just message her! Something keeps me from doing so, though. I feel weird about it, or intimidated, rather in the same way that I feel intimidated about uploading. She's family, but so distant as to be a total stranger; she's more than two hundred years old; she's been essentially silent from phys-side for most of that time, so I don't even know if she's still alive. Some day I'll work up the courage to talk to her, but I'm not sure if that will be before or after I upload.
+There is one other thing, and I hesitate to mention it because I'm not sure if it would be uncouth, but doubtless you recognize my name. My great-great-something aunt was Michelle Hadje, who was formative to the creation of the System itself, was one of the earliest uploads, one of what I think are called the 'founders'. I want to meet her.
+
+I know that I could just message her. I *want* to just message her! Something keeps me from doing so, though. I feel weird about it, or intimidated, rather in the same way that I feel intimidated about uploading. She's family, but so distant as to be a total stranger; she's more than two hundred years old; she's been essentially silent from phys-side for most of that time as far as I can tell, so I don't even know if she's still alive. Some day I'll work up the courage to talk to her, but I'm not sure if that will be before or after I upload.
 
 > What led you to pursue your position as launch director rather than remaining in your previous position?
 
@@ -38,11 +40,11 @@ Like I said, I just submitted my resume on a whim, and before that, I was just m
 
 > Please provide a biography of yourself to whatever level of detail you feel comfortable.
 
-I was born Douglas Fredrick Hadje-Simon on April 9th, 2278 in Saskatoon to the last in a long line of Uranium miners. I got my implants along with the rest of my class at age five, and quickly took to the 'net. I spent as much time as I could in there, as did (and still do) most folks. I don't know when you uploaded, but Earth is not a pleasant place anymore, so the net is where one goes for literally anything but living in a shithole on a giant rock that is also a shithole, if you'll forgive the language.
+I was born Douglas Fredrick Hadje-Simon on April 9th, 2278 in Saskatoon to the last in a long line of Uranium miners. I got my implants along with the rest of my class at age five, and quickly took to the 'net. I spent as much time as I could in there, as did (and still do) most folks. I don't know when you uploaded, but most of Earth is not a pleasant place anymore, so the net is where one goes for literally anything but living in a shithole on a giant rock that is also a shithole, if you'll forgive the language.
 
 Like I said, I took a job working on Ansible stuff as soon as I could. I'll admit that this was a selfish act. I was hoping that I would eventually wind up station-side to get away from the mess down there. I don't regret it. I don't miss my family. I don't miss my friends. I don't miss home. This is home now, as much as anything. I will do my best to either upload or die up here rather than go back. I'll work myself to the bone if I have to.
 
-I moved up through the ranks quickly enough and, first chance I got, I headed up with a few other techs on a ship headed to some mining site on the Moon. I spent probably five minutes on the Moon before the other techs and I headed out to the station. I started out as a junior Ansible tech and made my way up to lead before making it to launch director. You know the rest.
+I moved up through the ranks quickly enough and, first chance I got, I headed up with a few other techs on a ship headed to some mining site on the Moon. I spent probably five minutes on the Moon before the other techs and I headed out to the station. I started out as a senior station-side Ansible tech and made my way up to lead before making it to launch director. You know the rest.
 
 > Please provide a physical description of yourself to whatever level of detail you feel comfortable.
 
@@ -52,7 +54,7 @@ I'm nothing special, I think? Average height (I've heard that shifts over time?
 
 I still tool around on the 'net (though since there's more than a second's latency to Earth one way, it's mostly entertainment sims rather than chat), and for the mandatory exercise, I like running well enough. We're not allowed to cook up here, but I remember being fond of that back planet-side.
 
-This is super embarrassing, and just between you and me. I'd prefer you not tell anyone about this, and please, please don't tell Ms. Hadje. One of my hobbies is picking up any EVA task I can get just so I can go touch the System itself. Hardly anyone's seen it, but it's beautiful. It's coated in an inch or two of diamond, and the inside is a glittery mix of gold on black that seems to go on forever.
+This is super embarrassing, and just between you and me. I'd prefer you not tell anyone about this, and please, please don't tell Ms. Hadje. One of my hobbies is picking up any EVA task I can get just so I can go touch the System itself. Hardly anyone's seen it, but it's beautiful. It's coated in an inch or two of manufactured diamond, and the inside is a glittery mix of gold on black that seems to go on forever.
 
 On these EVAs, I'll go touch the System and imagine that I can feel family in there.
 
@@ -60,7 +62,7 @@ I don't know if it counts as a hobby, but it's important to me, and it isn't wor
 
 > How do you feel about what you know of the founding of the System?
 
-I don't know what I feel. You have to understand that it's been existence for more than four times the number of years that I've been alive. I know some of the big highlights, I suppose. It was invented some time in the 2110s, and seceded in 2125. It used to be super expensive to get to, then in the 2170s when things started getting really bad, several governments started offering incentives to upload. It turned into a weird combination of a brain drain and a dumping ground for the poor. There were a few periods where one government or another would outlaw uploading, but it would never last. It was this huge allure to us, like some sort of perfect utopia. Some folks hated it. Some still do. There were even sabotage attempts on the launch.
+I don't know what I feel. You have to understand that it's been existence for more than four times as long as I've been alive. I know some of the big highlights, I suppose. It was invented some time in the 2110s, and seceded in 2125. It used to be super expensive to get to, then in the 2170s when things started getting really bad, several governments started offering incentives to upload. It turned into a weird combination of a brain drain and a dumping ground for the poor. There were a few periods where one government or another would outlaw uploading, but it would never last. It was this huge allure to us, like some sort of perfect utopia. Some folks hated it. Some still do. There were even sabotage attempts on the launch.
 
 I don't know, though. It's almost getting to mythical status out here, so maybe your work is coming at the right time.
 
@@ -70,7 +72,7 @@ You sent me this before launch, and it means less now, so I'll answer how I woul
 
 > If you were suddenly removed from your location in the extrasystem L<sub>5</sub> station and returned to Earth, how would you feel and what would you expect?
 
-See above. I'd rather die than leave the system.
+See above. I'd rather die than leave the station.
 
 > If the System shut down and all personalities irrevocably lost, how would you feel?
 
@@ -82,7 +84,7 @@ Obviously, if it's possible, I would just upload in all of these cases. If it wa
 
 > If everyone but you disappeared, what would you do?
 
-Um...I don't know! Much of the uploading rig here is automated, though I know there are some buttons and knobs that need doing. I'd probably spend every waking moment trying to automate it the rest of the way so that I could upload. If you mean the System too, well, see above.
+Um...I don't know! Much of the uploading rig here is automated, though I know there are some buttons that need pressing and knobs that need twiddling. I'd probably spend every waking moment trying to automate it the rest of the way so that I could upload. If you mean the System too, well, see above.
 
 > How do you feel about being alone for extended periods of time?
 
@@ -96,7 +98,7 @@ My dreams when I'm asleep? Rarely. They're usually confused images of long hallw
 
 I have to say, I started talking with de, one of the launch commission members, and we agreed that your questions grew exponentially weird starting about here. I originally thought I'd answer each in some snarky way, but the more I thought about them, the more I realized what you're going for. In that vein, I'll try to answer each as best I can.
 
-There are a good number of people who think that God/god(s) forgot about Earth. There are always doom-sayers and end-of-the-world-ites, but they have seen a huge uptick in my life alone, and I think this last century has been defined by coming to terms with how fucked up everything is. And it's not that we don't blame ourselves. Many of us do! But many of those same people tack it on God, too. "God is disappointed with us and that's why everything's terrible" or whatever.
+There are a good number of people who think that God/god(s) forgot about Earth. There have always been doom-sayers and end-of-the-world-ites, but they have seen a huge uptick in my life alone, and I think this last century has been defined by coming to terms with how fucked up everything is. And it's not that we don't blame ourselves. Many of us do! But many of those same people tack it on God, too. "God is disappointed with us and that's why everything's terrible" or whatever.
 
 Me? I'm not so sure. I was raised thinking much of that, but I also feel like I left those feelings in the shuttle station back planet-side. I don't think about God much anymore. Maybe that's part of the problem: when we forget about God, we get complacent and then get into trouble, and suddenly he's much more relevant again. Who knows. Life up here is easy. I work, I get tired, I rest, I eat well, I get to do the thing I love most of all. Did I forget God back on Earth? Did I leave him there when I came here? Is there room for God in space? Do you have God in the System, and is that God the same one we talk about phys-side?
 
@@ -124,7 +126,8 @@ I recognize this! We read it in class. I know that the next words are "twice tha
 
 I look back a hundred years and see illness and failure, and I look at today and see twice that and more *below*, but up above, as it were, I see only the clean purity of space and the steady brightness of stars. If I literally look up, beyond the walls and hull, there is the System, and while I probably hold overly optimistic ideas of what goes on inside, I don't think you have illness and failure to nearly the same extent as we do phys-side. I doubt it's a utopia, but I would be hard pressed to imagine it as any worse than outside.
 
-> Oh, but to whom do I speak these words? To whom do I plead my case?
+> Oh, but to whom do I speak these words?  
+> To whom do I plead my case?
 
 I am writing this to you, but if I have to plead my case to anyone, it's to myself. I have to make my case to myself that I am worth enough to upload, that I can bring *something* to the System, that I would be welcomed there. I'm a very harsh judge, though, and it's taking a lot of work to convince myself of that.
 
@@ -132,9 +135,11 @@ I am writing this to you, but if I have to plead my case to anyone, it's to myse
 
 Close. So close. I call out to myself from within myself. I call out to the system through a few inches of diamondoid coating and the fabric of my EVA suit.
 
-> What right have I? No ranks of angels will answer to dreamers, No unknowable spaces echo my words.
+> What right have I?  
+> No ranks of angels will answer to dreamers,  
+> No unknowable spaces echo my words.
 
-This is the crux of the problem, isn't it? I am convinced, on some level, that I don't have the right to want this thing. Immortality is for the gods, and that's what you seem like to me. You seem like gods, and here I am, the mortal working at sweeping the floor of your altar. The candles are out, the celebrants are gone, no ranks of angles will answer to a dreamer like me, and as always, sound does not travel in space.
+This is the crux of the problem, isn't it? I am convinced, on some level, that I don't have the right to want this thing. Immortality is for the gods, and that's what you seem like to me. You seem like gods, and here I am, the mortal sweeping the floor of your altar. The candles are out, the celebrants are gone, no ranks of angles will answer to a dreamer like me, and as always, sound does not travel in space.
 
 > Before whom do I kneel, contrite?
 
diff --git a/writing/post-self/toledot/launch/sys/Ioan/001.md b/writing/post-self/toledot/launch/sys/Ioan/001.md
index f9b3a3e4..752e145c 100644
--- a/writing/post-self/toledot/launch/sys/Ioan/001.md
+++ b/writing/post-self/toledot/launch/sys/Ioan/001.md
@@ -2,13 +2,13 @@
 
 The first thing that Ioan did when ey arrived before that low-slung house, there among countless acres of rolling buffalo grass, was laugh.
 
-The prairie was much as ey remembered. Grass tickled at eir lower calves even through the socks and slacks, clouds threatened rain as they always did, and wind tugged at eir hair in all the very same ways as it first had however many years ago now --- was it really twenty? And yet the house! Banners were hung about in deepest black, streamers running from pole to pole in a welcoming path, guiding visitors up to the house. This was lit about with flames of all sizes. Tea-lights scattered among the dandelions, elaborate candelabras set upon tables, braziers set upon tripods, wall sconces set beneath the cantilevered roof. A glow painting the grass beside the house suggested a bonfire out back.
+The prairie was as ey remembered. Grass tickled at eir lower calves even through the socks and slacks; clouds threatened rain as they always did; wind tugged at eir hair in all the very same ways as it first had however many years ago now --- was it really twenty? And yet the house! Banners were hung about in deepest black, streamers running from pole to pole in a welcoming path, guiding visitors up to the house. This was lit about with flames of all sizes: tea-lights scattered among the dandelions, elaborate candelabras set upon tables, braziers set upon tripods, wall sconces set beneath the cantilevered roof. A glow painting the grass beside the house suggested a bonfire out back.
 
 And there, the largest banner of them all draped from that roof shouted in stately capitals: "HAPPY DEATH DAY".
 
-Still shaking eir head, ey walked up along the streamer-lined path up toward the house. When the threshold was crossed, a soft chime sounded from within and outside the house.
+Still shaking eir head, ey walked up along the streamer-lined path up toward the house. When the threshold was crossed, a chime sounded from within and outside the house.
 
-Ioan need not have looked hard for Dear, for 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 fox ey remembered, yes, but also scampering fennecs 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.
+Ioan need not have looked hard for Dear, for 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.
 
@@ -20,7 +20,7 @@ Ioan bypassed this and went straight for the hug. "Dear, this is patently ridicu
 
 The laughter against eir ear was musical as the hug was returned. *"I hold no patent on the ridiculous. It is precisely as ridiculous as it needs to be. Come! Come around back. You are early, and that is perfectly fine, but folks will want to say hi."*
 
-Following after the fox and laughing at the way the occasional non-anthropomorphized fennec would blip into being, scamper into the grass with a (frankly rather horrifying) screech, and disappear, Ioan chatted with Dear. 
+Following after the fox and laughing at the way the occasional non-anthropomorphized fennec would blip into being, scamper into the grass with a (frankly rather horrifying) screech, and then disappear, Ioan tried to chat with Dear. 
 
 The fox was short on speech after the greeting, eventually hushing em. *"We'll all talk together."*
 
@@ -28,7 +28,7 @@ The fox was short on speech after the greeting, eventually hushing em. *"We'll a
 
 Ey smiled. "Codrin, you're looking well."
 
-What similarities the two had borne early on had since started to blur. Codrin had started out, as a matter of absent-mindedness, an identical copy of Ioan. While Dear could fork out all the unexpected shapes it wanted, Ioan had never mastered the art. Time changes much, however, and eir up-tree fork had deviated in style from Ioan's stolid adherence to form. Codrin's hair had long-since grown past Ioan's tousled look, and the curls ey hated so much adopted as eir own. Eir face, too, had changed, adopting a femininity that suited eir features well. The warm-colored sarong and tunic ey had last seen em in, however, had been replaced with clothes as funereal as Dear's.
+What similarities the two had borne early on had since started to blur. Codrin had started out, as a matter of absent-mindedness, an identical copy of Ioan. While Dear could fork out all the unexpected shapes it wanted, Ioan had never mastered the art. Time changes much, however, and eir up-tree fork had deviated in style from Ioan's stolid adherence to form. Codrin's hair had long-since grown past Ioan's tousled look, and the curls ey hated so much adopted as an integral part of em. Eir face, too, had changed, adopting a femininity that suited eir features well. The warm-colored sarong and tunic ey had last seen em in, however, had been replaced with clothes as funereal as Dear's.
 
 Matching, Ioan realized. They were a triad now, Codrin, Dear, and Dear's partner, and ey supposed there was no reason that the three of them shouldn't match on their so-called death day.
 
@@ -44,7 +44,7 @@ Ioan looked to Codrin, who shrugged. "I play the moderate, as always. I'm nervou
 
 *"Ey has a way with words, as always. I have been unable to be nervous, even about the irreversibility."*
 
-"A new project, then?" Ioan hazarded.
+"A new project, then?" Ioan guessed.
 
 It smiled wryly. *"You know me well. Yes, I cannot seem to think of anything else. Fewer things in life than we imagine are truly irreversible. Time is the one that everyone thinks of, and whenever they name some other process in life that seems irreversible, it really boils down to the ways in which it is bound by time. Breathing? Digestion? Aging? Death? All time-bound aspects that only bear the semblance of irreversibility.*
 
@@ -52,7 +52,9 @@ It smiled wryly. *"You know me well. Yes, I cannot seem to think of anything els
 
 "You're declaiming again."
 
-Dear stuck its tongue out at its partner, a gesture that bordered on cute on that vulpine face. Its partner laughed.
+Dear stuck its tongue out at its partner, a gesture that bordered on cute on that vulpine face.
+
+Its partner laughed. "It took you a surprisingly short time."
 
 *"It has already been established that I am excited. Permit me this!"* After a laughing pause, it continued. *"Now, however, we have been permitted the wonder and curiosity that drives so many images of the afterlife. Now, we get as close as ever to* knowing *that an afterlife exist, and ghosts will speak to us from beyond the heavens."*
 
@@ -62,7 +64,7 @@ Dear stuck its tongue out at its partner, a gesture that bordered on cute on tha
 
 The ideas touched on some subconscious musing that Ioan had carried with emself ever since the choice to remain had been made, and the group settled into a silence broken only by the crackling of logs on the bonfire. Ey didn't know what the others were thinking, there in the flickering light, but for em, the weight of that decision settled at last on em, and eir thoughts scattered before the implications.
 
-Ey had made eir own irreversible choice, and while ey knew that ey could technically reverse it up until that final point of no return this evening, ey knew that ey would not.
+Ey had made eir own irreversible choice, and while ey knew that ey could technically reverse it up until that final point of no return, later this evening, ey knew that ey would not.
 
 "Ioan?"
 
@@ -74,27 +76,27 @@ Ey realized that the triad were staring at them. Ey shook eir head to dispel the
 
 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."
 
-Dear brightened and bounced up to the skunk, part of its own clade, and once her bow completed, hugged her. *"My dear, a pleasure as always."*
+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."*
 
 Ioan waited for Dear to release May Then My Name Die With Me before getting eir own hug. After, she looped her arm through eirs, letting em play the escort and settling into a familiar pattern of constant touch.
 
 "Glad you could make it," Dear's partner said.
 
-"Of course! Would not miss it for the world. Besides, I am one of the honored guests, right?"
+"Of course! I would not miss it for the world. Besides, I am one of the honored guests, right?"
 
 Codrin smiled. "We've only invited honored guests."
 
 *"Of course! And here come more."*
 
-For the next hour, the chime of arrival was nearly constant as guests upon guests arrived. Much of the Ode Clade showed, though Ioan noted that some of the more conservative members were absent, grudges remaining even to this day. Michelle Hadje herself, the root instance, was notably absent, and a tug of still-unprocessed emotions pulled at the insides of eir chest.
+For the next hour, the chime of arrival was near constant as guests upon guests arrived. Much of the Ode Clade showed, though Ioan noted that some of the more conservative members were absent, grudges remaining even to this day. Michelle Hadje herself, the root instance, was notably absent, and a tug of still-unprocessed emotions pulled at the insides of eir chest.
 
-Ioan had only met her once before, shortly before this whole plan had been set into motion. She was unfailingly kind, though if madness rode the whole of the Ode Clade, it seemed to affect her deeper than the rest, and she was often taken by long silences, sometimes in the middle of sentences. During these, she lost coherence, her form rippling and changing, waves of skunk rolling down her form, followed by equally tumultuous waves of her usual human self. These spells would last anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes, and even after they were quelled and the conversation resumed, afterimages of mephitidine muzzle and ears would ghost suddenly into place and just as quickly disappear.
+Ioan had only met her once before, shortly before this whole plan had been set in motion. She was unfailingly kind, though if madness rode the whole of her clade, it seemed to affect her deeper than the rest, and she was often taken by long silences, sometimes in the middle of sentences. During these, she lost coherence, her form rippling and changing, waves of skunk rolling down her form, followed by equally tumultuous waves of her human self. These spells would last anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes, and even after they were quelled and the conversation resumed, afterimages of mephitidine muzzle and ears would ghost suddenly into place and just as quickly disappear.
 
 After that visit, Ioan had asked Dear about them. Its features darkened and it had averted its gaze. *"We all have our ways of dealing with loss. She could seek change if she wanted, but...it is complicated."*
 
 It was rare for the fox to leave a thought unfinished, but Ioan could not think of a way to ask it to continue.
 
-While every guest was noteworthy in their own way, a few names stood out to em. Dear's sibling instance, Serene; Sustained And Sustaining, arrived, a mad grin on her face as she ran directly at Dear and tackled it, the two foxes wrestling briefly on the ground before standing up and dusting themselves off again, both laughing.
+While every guest was noteworthy in their own way, a few names stood out to em. Dear's sibling instance, Serene; Sustained And Sustaining, arrived, a deranged grin on her face as she ran directly at Dear and tackled it, the two foxes wrestling briefly on the ground before standing up and dusting themselves off again, both laughing.
 
 "I cannot believe you are going to destroy this place, you asshole. I spent weeks on the grass alone!"
 
@@ -112,9 +114,9 @@ The party rolled on inevitably.
 
 A sudden peal of thunder, louder than any Ioan had ever heard, brought silence in its wake.
 
-*"It is time! It is time! Please gather around the fire!"* Excitement filled Dear's voice, though Ioan thought ey could now detect a hint of nervousness that had not been there before.
+*"It is time! It is time! Please gather around the fire!"* Excitement filled Dear's voice, though Ioan thought ey could now detect a hint of nervousness that had not been there before. *"There is no time for speeches, there is no time for goodbyes! It is time!"*
 
-The fox forked off several copies, all wide-eyed and feral-grinned, who helped to herd the hundred-and-change guests into a loose ring around the bonfire before quitting.
+The fox forked off several copies, all wide-eyed and feral-grinned, who helped to herd the hundred-and-change guests into a loose ring around the bonfire with shoves and snapping teeth before quitting.
 
 Ioan and May Then My Name took up places about a third of the way around the fire from Dear and its partners, the better to see without flames in the way.
 
@@ -122,17 +124,17 @@ The triad stepped forward, and the circle closed behind them. Each of them forke
 
 The weight of inevitability began to crest as midnight reared its head.
 
-No speech was forthcoming, but the three within the circle began to sing.
+The three within the circle began to sing.
 
 > Should old acquaintance be forgot  
 > and never brought to mind?
 
-Something about their posture forbid everyone else from joining in just yet. Their voices were raw, earnest.
+Something about their posture forbid everyone else from joining in just yet. Their voices were raw, earnest all the same, carrying above the roar and crackle of the fire.
 
 > Should old acquaintance be forgot  
 > and auld lang syne?
 
-Ioan realized that ey was crying, that many in the circle were crying, and when Dear raised its arms to the sky, all the gathered attendees around the fire began to sing.
+Ioan realized that ey was crying, that May Then My Name was crying, that many in the circle were crying, and when Dear raised its arms to the sky, all the gathered attendees around the fire began to sing as one.
 
 > For auld lang syne, my dear,  
 > for auld lang syne.  
@@ -141,15 +143,15 @@ Ioan realized that ey was crying, that many in the circle were crying, and when
 
 Before the final note of the song could be sung, Dear gave a jaunty salute, bowed with a flourish, and quit along with its partner and Codrin Bălan.
 
-With a deafening silence, the landscape around them crumbled into voxels, and those voxels joined together by powers of two, and with a soft chime, all the members of the party were shunted off to wherever they called home.
+With a deafening silence, the landscape around them immediately crumbled into voxels, and those voxels joined together by powers of two, and with a soft chime, a descending minor triad, all the members of the party were shunted off to wherever they called home.
 
 Ioan stumbled and fell to eir knees on the parquet of eir entryway, May Then My Name standing, defiant against the change in scenery, in air and light and gravity, beside em.
 
 "What an asshole," she laughed.
 
-Ioan and the skunk let the intoxication of the night cling to them a while longer while they sat on the balcony of Ioan's house, overlooking that perpetually lilac-scented yard, and talked. They talked of the party, of the modern house on the prairie, of Dear and the contradiction of formal intensity and playfulness that it seemed to embody. The conversation wound down, and then the two sat in silence. It did not seem time yet to snap sobriety into being.
+Ioan and the skunk let the intoxication of the night cling to them a while longer while they sat on the balcony of Ioan's house, overlooking that perpetually lilac-scented yard, and talked. They talked of the party, of the modern house on the prairie, of Dear and the contradiction of formal intensity and playfulness that it seemed to embody, and then they talked of nothing at all and the two sat in silence. It did not seem time yet to snap sobriety into being.
 
-It had taken Ioan several days 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, and ey had needed to have a series of awkward conversations discussing boundaries and intentions.
+It had taken Ioan several days 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, 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?"
 
@@ -157,7 +159,7 @@ Now, as she slouched against eir side on that bench swing and ey settled eir arm
 
 "Well, Dear said that it and Serene were forked when Praiseworthy wanted to explore an interest in instances and sims. Is there something like that which led to...to whatever your down-tree instance is forking?" Ey supposed that, were ey sober, ey might have better luck dredging up the lines from the stanza. Something about true names and god.
 
-May Then My Name shrugged, shoulder shifting against Ioan's side. "In the early days, I --- Michelle, that is --- did not have much direction to her forking. Forks were created at need essentially to handle the increased workload."
+May Then My Name shrugged, shoulder shifting against Ioan's side. "In the early days, I --- Michelle, that is --- did not have much direction to her forking. Forks were created at need essentially to handle the increased workload. The first ten were created all at once in a burst of activity."
 
 "Were the early days busy?"
 
@@ -165,17 +167,17 @@ May Then My Name shrugged, shoulder shifting against Ioan's side. "In the early
 
 Ioan nodded. "Dear said that Michelle had campaigned to include sensoria in the system."
 
-"Yes, though that word is something of an elision that has become shorthand for experiences rather than thoughts." Her voice was soft, though it still held the careful articulation of one who has realized that they are not sober. "We were not beings of pure thought, there were still experiences, but there was no guarantee that they would be shared. It was chaotic, as you might imagine from a set of unique individuals trying to dream the same dream.
+"Yes, though that is something of an elision that has become shorthand for experiences rather than thoughts." Her voice was soft, though it still held the careful articulation of one who has realized that they are not sober. "We were not beings of pure thought, there were still experiences, but there was no guarantee that they would be shared. It was chaotic, as you might imagine from a set of unique individuals trying to dream the same dream.
 
-"This was back in the early days, you understand, before the System had become a dumping ground for the world's excess population. We were all starry-eyed dreamers, and so were the engineers phys-side. Hard problems remain hard, however, and it kept getting deprioritized. Michelle and the rest of the founders provided arguments for the means by which we have consensual sensoria, as well as additional sensorium tools such as the messages."
+"This was back in the early days, you understand, before the System had become a dumping ground for the world's excess population." She smiled, far off. "We were all starry-eyed dreamers, you know, and so were the engineers phys-side. Hard problems remain hard, however, and it kept getting deprioritized. Michelle and the rest of the founders provided arguments for the means by which we have consensual sensoria, as well as additional sensorium tools such as the messages."
 
-Ioan restrained the impulse to bristle at this. The Ode clade was notorious for their fondness for sensorium messages, those sensations and images that barged in on one's senses. Ey found them unnerving. Instead, ey said, "Just how much of the early System did your clade influence?"
+Ioan relished the long-faded impulse to bristle at this. The Ode clade was notorious for their fondness for sensorium messages, those sensations and images that barged in on one's senses. Ey found them unnerving. Ey said, "Just how much of the early System did your clade influence?"
 
-May Then My Name's laugh was musical. "I am sure we have lost count. The first lines of each stanza quickly picked up interests of their own --- they were in much better communication back then --- and each picked up a project of their own, and whenever a new project would come along, they would petition the rest of the clade for the use of a line for a long-running fork. Everything was much more expensive back then, and we would sometimes have to pool our reputation."
+May Then My Name's laugh was quiet and muffled beside em. "I am sure we have lost count. The first lines of each stanza quickly picked up interests of their own --- even then they were not in much communication --- and each picked up a project of their own, and whenever a new project would come along, they would have to generate enough reputation to fork again. Everything was much more expensive back then, and we would sometimes have to pool our resources."
 
 "What was your stanza's project?"
 
-"We lost the idea that the whole stanza would be working on similar projects after a while, so they are not as tightly connected any more. The first line of mine, though, The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream --- True Name --- was heavy in the politics of the early System and its relations to phys-side."
+"We lost the idea that the whole stanza would be working on similar projects after a while, so they are not as tightly connected any more. Early forks were much more likely to share similar interests, if only because the individuation had not set in as strongly. The first line of mine, though, The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream --- True Name --- was heavy in the politics of the early System and its relations to phys-side."
 
 Ioan blinked, startled. "I had no idea. I'm guessing that's back when it was a bigger deal?
 
@@ -195,15 +197,15 @@ She shrugged noncommittally, then rested her head back on Ioan's shoulder. The a
 
 "You haven't diverged too far?" Ioan asked.
 
-"We try not to," the skunk murmured. "That is why I am acting as coordinator. It is a familiar role."
+"She would like us not to," the skunk murmured. "That is why I am acting as coordinator. It is a familiar role."
 
 Ioan nodded. "Close enough to politics, I suppose."
 
-Another moment of silence. The academic permitted some of the drunkenness from the evening to drift away, allowing em to think more clearly. May Then My Name relaxed further against eir side, and ey suspected she was not far away from sleep. Tomorrow, the work would begin in earnest, so ey was tempted to let her sleep, but a question nagged at em.
+Another moment of silence. Ey permitted some of the drunkenness from the evening to drift away, allowing thoughts to come more clearly. May Then My Name relaxed further against eir side, and ey suspected she was not far away from sleep. Tomorrow, the work would begin to pick up in earnest, so ey was tempted to let her sleep, but a question nagged at em.
 
 "May?"
 
-"I like it when you call me that," she mumbled
+"I like it when you call me that," she mumbled.
 
 "It's a good name." Ioan smiled. "I had a question, though. How much do you remember from back then?"
 
@@ -211,7 +213,7 @@ She sat bolt upright, wrenching at eir shoulder. "What did you say? Sorry."
 
 Ey reclaimed eir arm, rubbing at the shoulder. "It's okay. How much do you remember from the early days of the System? Before you uploaded or after, I mean."
 
-"You, my dear, are a fucking genius." She was on her feet now, pacing back and forth in front of the bench swing. She paused mid-pace to lean down and bump her nose against Ioan's forehead; her form of a kiss. "Fucking genius."
+"You, my dear, are a fucking genius." She was on her feet within a second, pacing back and forth in front of the bench swing. She paused mid-pace to lean down and bump her nose against Ioan's forehead; her form of a kiss. "Fucking genius."
 
 Given that she appeared to have sobered up, Ioan allowed emself to do the same. "What do you mean?" ey asked.
 
@@ -227,9 +229,9 @@ May Then My Name laughed. "You are talking to an Odist, of course you can fuckin
 
 "Alright, alright. Then what's your secret?"
 
-"I want to write an early history of the System to parallel the current. They are eerily similar, you know, but it has been two hundred years. We are well past history, and doubtless there are histories already written. Yes, I remember. Of course I do. I remember the secession, I remember uploading, I remember getting lost, I remember everything. The all the great and terrible things that we did. We could write a history, but that is all already there. There are paper trails and journals and everything phys-side already knows about us, but--"
+"I want to write an early history of the System to parallel the current. They are eerily similar, you know, but it has been two hundred years. We are well past history, and doubtless there are histories already written. I remember the secession, I remember uploading, I remember getting lost, I remember everything. Yes, I remember. Of course I do. The all the great and terrible things that we did. We could write a history, but that is all already there. There are paper trails and journals and everything phys-side already knows about us, but--"
 
-Ioan's eyes went wide as ey picked up on her idea. "You want to write a mythology."
+Ioan's eyes went wide as ey picked up on her idea. "You want to turn it into a story."
 
 She clapped and bounced excitedly on her feet. "Yes! Yes, a mythology. I know I have mentioned them before, and we had talked about incorporating that aspect with Dear and Codrin. The history is important, and perhaps we can write that too, but now is not the time for only history. Now is the time for--"
 
@@ -239,4 +241,4 @@ In a decidedly Dear-like move, the skunk forked several times over, crowding the
 
 "I worked with Dear, you nut. Of course I get stories." Ey laughed and reached up to grab her around the waist and haul her back onto the swing beside em.
 
-How different she was than Dear. Individuation is born in the decades and centuries. Ey would never have thought to be so physical with the fox, but as she laughed and slumped back against eir side, ey realized ey had long since fallen into the habit of physicality, of touch. Of, ey realized, feeling. Just as she'd said.
+How different she was than Dear. Individuation is born in the decades and centuries, though. Ey would never have thought to be so physical with the fox, but as she laughed and slumped back against eir side, ey realized ey had long since fallen into the habit of physicality, of touch. Of, ey realized, feeling. Just as she'd said.
diff --git a/writing/post-self/toledot/secession/phys/Yared/001.md b/writing/post-self/toledot/secession/phys/Yared/001.md
index 304aff76..06c195e3 100644
--- a/writing/post-self/toledot/secession/phys/Yared/001.md
+++ b/writing/post-self/toledot/secession/phys/Yared/001.md
@@ -20,7 +20,7 @@ He turned it so that she could see the cover. It was something on politics. Pop
 
 A look of understanding bloomed on her face and her expression shifted from confusion to a cautious smile. "No, I suppose you won't. Well, thank you. I'll give it to the library if I don't wind up reading it."
 
-Yared nodded and gave a gesture of thanks. It was only after the conversation was over that he felt a hotness in his cheeks. He had been lucky that the woman spoke English so well! She was very white, and while that might not mean anything, he *was* flying into the Sino-Russian Bloc, and she could just as well not have been a native speaker.
+Yared nodded and gave a gesture of thanks. It was only after the conversation was over that he felt a hotness in his cheeks. He had been lucky that the woman spoke English so well. She was very white, and while that might not mean anything, he *was* flying into the Sino-Russian Bloc, and she could just as well not have been a native speaker.
 
 The act of landing, of deplaning and customs, was as dull and rote as he expected it to be, and yet some protective action of his mind had buried that overwhelming anxiety under a blanket of numbness, which had soon spread to encompass all of his feelings and emotions.
 
@@ -38,7 +38,7 @@ Yared nodded.
 
 Yared could only smile back and move on through the line.
 
-He was met at baggage claim by a slight man who took him by the hand and led him out into the heat of the afternoon. He was shunted into the air-conditioned back of a black car --- so many memories of years ago beneath that blanket of numbness --- which took him to an unassuming office complex.
+He was met at baggage claim by a slight man who took him by the hand and led him out into the heat of the afternoon. He was shunted into the air-conditioned back of a black car --- so many memories of weeks and months ago beneath that blanket of numbness --- which took him to an unassuming office complex.
 
 Unassuming from the outside, at least. Inside, ey was met with white tile and calm, efficient staff who swished on the floor with white, paper booties.
 
@@ -230,7 +230,7 @@ True Name nodded. "That's us, yep. Michelle could not be here tonight, so I am h
 
 "You meet at a diner?"
 
-"We meet all over," Jonas said. "There is no headquarters, per se. We just find interesting places and meet there."
+"We meet all over," Jonas said. "There is no headquarters, *per se.* We just find interesting places and meet there."
 
 "Wherever's most boring." The nondescript person shrugged.
 
@@ -240,7 +240,7 @@ A mug of coffee was placed before him and Yared lifted it automatically for a si
 
 "No. I don't know why. I suppose just in case something goes wrong with the launch."
 
-"Nothing will go wrong. There is a backup facility, anyway," the weasel said. "Debarre, by the way. Nice to meet you."
+"Nothing will go wrong. There is a backup facility, anyway," the ferret-shaped one said. "Debarre, by the way. Nice to meet you."
 
 The rest of the council introduced themselves.
 
@@ -254,7 +254,7 @@ By the time they hit four, Yared was counting along with them.
 
 "Three!" he shouted.
 
-*This is what it was all for,* he thought. *Sitting in a diner, drinking bad coffee, and meeting friends.*
+*This is what it was all for,* he thought. *Sitting in a diner, drinking terrible coffee, and meeting friends.*
 
 "Two!"
 
@@ -266,7 +266,7 @@ By the time they hit four, Yared was counting along with them.
 
 Everyone began cheering at once. The windows lit up with a fireworks display. True Name stopped clapping in order to hug him around the shoulders, and after a moment's hesitation, he returned the gesture.
 
-"I think this is why you wanted to be the last one," she murmured in his ear just loud enough for him to hear. "You greedy son of a bitch. You just wanted to be the last one to join the party."
+"This is why you wanted to be the last one, isn't it?" she murmured in his ear just loud enough for him to hear. "You greedy son of a bitch. You just wanted to be the last one to join the party."
 
 He laughed. "You know, I think you may be right."
 
diff --git a/writing/post-self/toledot/secession/sys/Michelle/001.md b/writing/post-self/toledot/secession/sys/Michelle/001.md
index 921906ba..6dbdf325 100644
--- a/writing/post-self/toledot/secession/sys/Michelle/001.md
+++ b/writing/post-self/toledot/secession/sys/Michelle/001.md
@@ -12,7 +12,7 @@ The part of her that desired knowledge, that craved a reason in all things, that
 
 That part was Sasha. That had felt inverted to her, at first. Was not Michelle the rational one? She was the one who had maintained her ties to her body. She was the one who remembered all of the *things*, all of the *actions* of her past. She was the one who wanted to fork and keep all of those memories.
 
-But instead it was Sasha who felt incomplete, unwhole, when her reasons were unspoken. Eventually her gestalt came to the awareness that this was because Sasha *was* the one who felt, just as Michelle was the one who remembered, and thus she was also the part that desired compassion above all things. She wanted to explain herself so that others would not be left hurt. She was the one who decided, in the end, not to fork. Those memories that mattered --- really, truly mattered --- all of her instances already shared.
+But instead it was Sasha who felt incomplete, unwhole, when her reasons were unspoken. Eventually her gestalt came to the awareness that this was because Sasha *was* the one who felt, just as Michelle was the one who remembered, and thus she was also the part that desired compassion above all things. She wanted to explain herself so that others would not be left hurt. She was the one who decided, in the end, not to fork, to fix, to repair. Those memories that mattered --- really, truly mattered --- all of her instances already shared.
 
 Michelle did not want to tell anyone.
 
@@ -44,7 +44,7 @@ They came to her/they came to her.
 
 They came alone.
 
-One hundred and one of her stood in that meadow. Life Breeds Life But Death Must Now Be Chosen was gone, but there were two of her/there were two of her, and the number was still as it should be.
+One hundred and one of her stood in that meadow. Qoheleth was gone, but there were two of her/there were two of her, and the number was still as it should be.
 
 No, not as it should be. Not as it ought to be. There ought to be only one hundred of her there without Qoheleth, but she was of two minds/she was of two minds.
 
@@ -58,15 +58,15 @@ Her voice wavered, but she asked all the same. "Please fork. Please fork and mer
 
 In less than five seconds, the number of copies of her had doubled, and some inner part of her/some inner part of her smiled, sensing now that doubling that she felt as a core part of her being expressed in all those versions of herself that had grown these last nearly two centuries.
 
-"Since then --- 'tis Centuries --- and yet Feels shorter than the Day--" she murmured, words borne of a thought/of a memory. Many of the clade joined. "I first surmised the Horses' Heads Were toward Eternity ---"
+"Since then --- 'tis Centuries --- and yet Feels shorter than the Day--" she thought/she murmured, words borne of a thought/of a memory. Many of the clade joined. "I first surmised the Horses' Heads Were toward Eternity ---"
 
 Many were sitting now, some were pulling at tufts of grass, stalks of dandelions, anything to ground themselves.
 
 "I just want...we just want to experience...a little more," she choked out. "Can you give us that?"
 
-The reasons for the forks became clear, now, and over the next hour --- for some had diverged so far that a great amount of effort was required --- they began to merge their outermost instances down-tree, down-tree, down toward the root. Many looked shell-shocked as years and decades and centuries of memories poured into them, and then were passed on down. Many looked as mad as she felt.
+The reasons for the forks became clear, now, and over the next hour --- for some had diverged so far that a great amount of effort was required to reconcile conflicts --- they began to merge their outermost instances down-tree, down-tree, down toward the root. Many looked shell-shocked as years and decades and centuries of memories poured into them, and then were passed on down. Many looked as mad as she felt.
 
-She held up her hand when there the mergers had completed down to the doubled-versions of the nine first lines and one second line (for Qoheleth had been a first, Michelle remembered/Sasha remembered) standing before her.
+She held up her hand when the mergers had completed down to the doubled-versions of the nine first lines and one second line (for Qoheleth had been a first, Michelle remembered/Sasha remembered) standing before her.
 
 "We have a task for each of you who will remain. One last task." And she walked down the line/she walked down the line, leaning close to whisper into each of their ears, whether they were skunk or human or something new and different, what she wanted them to accomplish, whether it be vague or specific.
 
@@ -78,13 +78,15 @@ Of the twenty before her, ten merged into her, one by one.
 
 She was laughing/she was crying/she was furious/she was in love/she was knowledgeable/she was a being of emotions/she was an ascetic/she was opulent.
 
+She was.
+
 She was of two minds.
 
 She was of ten minds.
 
 She was of ninety-nine minds.
 
-She was of a thousand times a thousand minds as more memories than any one individual was ever meant to have poured into her and through her, in through the head, out through the heart, and consumed her. She cherished them one by one by one by one by one...
+She was of a thousand times a thousand minds as more memories than any one individual was ever meant to have poured into her and through her and consumed her. She cherished them one by one by one by one by one...
 
 "Oh," she said, feeling more singular than she had in two hundred years.
 
diff --git a/writing/post-self/toledot/secession/sys/Michelle/002.md b/writing/post-self/toledot/secession/sys/Michelle/002.md
index 881ba2e1..7a503efb 100644
--- a/writing/post-self/toledot/secession/sys/Michelle/002.md
+++ b/writing/post-self/toledot/secession/sys/Michelle/002.md
@@ -2,7 +2,7 @@
 
 Michelle Hadje mastered the urge to vomit.
 
-She knew that could change this. Change all of these things from so many dreams that pressed in against. She knew that she could will them away, or perhaps spring for a fork that would simply...not have them. She had enough reputation, by now, to fork a dozen times over. Some perks came with being on the council, after all.
+She knew that could change this. Change all of these things from so many dreams that pressed in against her. She knew that she could will them away, or perhaps spring for a fork that would simply...not have them. She had enough reputation, by now, to fork a dozen times over. Some perks came with being on the council, after all.
 
 But she didn't, and she was not quite sure why.
 
@@ -24,17 +24,17 @@ Sasha.
 
 That last hypothesis encompassed much of the previous two, and would explain why the looming tenth anniversary of the founding of the system seemed to make it all the worse. Ten years since the founding, eleven years since RJ disappeared, giving emself up to the act of creation.
 
-Ah well. She had lingered long enough outside the coffee shop, so she swallowed down her rising gorge and mastered a few waves of shifting form, skunk fur and human flesh fighting for dominance. The skunk form won today, anthropomorphized to a comforting degree, sitting just shy of cartoonish. It would do. She would be Sasha for the meeting.
+Ah well. She had lingered long enough outside the coffee shop, so she swallowed down her rising gorge and mastered a few waves of shifting form, skunk fur and human flesh fighting for dominance. The human form won today: round of face rather than mephit snout; curly, black hair rather than thick black fur. It would do. She would be Michelle for the meeting.
 
 The Council of Eight, for all its high status and demand, met in incognito in unassuming, downtempo sims rather than some conference room or grand palace. The eight of them would trickle into the sim over the course of a few hours, set up camp on a hilltop or in a cafe, enjoy the ambiance, and then set up a cone of silence to discuss business. They had been noticed once or twice, but never hounded and certainly not attacked.
 
 Debarre and user11824 were there already, slouching before their coffees in comfortable silence. Both looked up and waved to her when she entered, so she requested a mocha and joined them around the table.
 
-"Hey Mi--er, Sasha. Hows tricks?" Debarre asked.
+"Hey Sa--er, Michelle. Hows tricks?" Debarre asked.
 
 "Tricksy, as usual." She smiled wanly. "How about you two?"
 
-user11824 shrugged. His features were nondescript to the point where Sasha doubted that he even needed to work at being incognito. Eyes simply slid over him without pausing. "Bored. Boring. Bored."
+user11824 shrugged. His features were nondescript to the point where Michelle doubted that he even needed to work at being incognito. Eyes simply slid over him without pausing. "Bored. Boring. Bored."
 
 "How are you bored? There's always too much to do." Laughter came from behind her, followed by a friendly touch to the shoulder. Jonas, on the other hand, was perilously handsome, well past the point of standing out, and friendly with a casual ease that left all feeling envious.
 
@@ -42,23 +42,23 @@ user11824 shrugged. His features were nondescript to the point where Sasha doubt
 
 Jonas slid into the seat next to Michelle, coffee in hand. There were a few minutes amiable chatter as the other four octarchs trickled in: two well-dressed women, one well-dressed man, and one slouching form of indeterminate gender (and occasionally species) that looked more like a discarded pile of rags than anything.
 
-Sasha blinked, and a cone of silence spread around the table. The proprietor raised an eyebrow, but made no other move to acknowledge it.
+Michelle blinked, and a cone of silence spread around the table. The proprietor raised an eyebrow, but made no other move to acknowledge it.
 
-"So," she began, rubbing her paws over her face. "I know we just had a meeting, so I am sorry for stealing you all again, but I have a thing to ask of you all. A question, for sure, but it may morph into a favor, depending on the answer."
+"So," she began, rubbing her hands over her face. "I know we just had a meeting, so I am sorry for stealing you all again, but I have a thing to ask of you all. A question, for sure, but it may morph into a favor, depending on the answer."
 
 "Boring one?" user11824 asked.
 
-Sasha forced a tired chuckle and wobbled one of her paws over the table. "Maybe. Probably. Most things are boring to you."
+Michelle forced a tired chuckle and wobbled one of her hands over the table. "Maybe. Probably. Most things are boring to you."
 
 He rolled his eyes. More chuckles around the table.
 
-Swallowing down another wave of Michelle washing across her body, she continued. "I would like to create ten forks to delegate responsibility. Would that be okay?"
+Swallowing down another wave of Sasha washing across her body, she continued. "I would like to create ten forks to delegate responsibility. Would that be okay?"
 
 Jonas frowned. "That'd be pretty expensive."
 
 "Would it be worth the expenditure?" the pile of rags rasped.
 
-Sasha quelled the instinct to shrug again, nodding instead. "I think it would be. Just temporarily. At least for the next year or so. I will shift my role to a more managerial one, acting as consensus builder for my clade. I would not gain any more say in votes."
+Michelle quelled the instinct to shrug again, nodding instead. "I think it would be. Just temporarily. At least for the next year or so. I will shift my role to a more managerial one, acting as consensus builder for my clade. I would not gain any more say in votes."
 
 "Would you take on additional responsibility, too?"
 
@@ -68,9 +68,9 @@ Debarre gave a lopsided smile. "If it's simply about more hands on the ground, I
 
 She forced herself to keep tears out of her voice. "I feel like hell, if I am honest. I will ensure none of the forks have...all this."
 
-Nods around the table. The woman from the well-dressed trio spoke up. "I'm comfortable answering your question with a 'yes'."
+Nods around the table. A woman from the well-dressed trio spoke up. "I'm comfortable answering your question with a 'yes'."
 
-They went around the table, and none of the others said contradicted the first vote. Sasha slouched in relief, letting her control slacken and her form blur for a few moments.
+They went around the table, and none of the others said contradicted the first vote. Michelle slouched in relief, letting her control slacken and her form blur for a few moments.
 
 "Does that answer mean that you have a favor to ask?"
 
@@ -80,11 +80,11 @@ Jonas laughed. "You're allowed a vacation, Sasha. Go for it. I'm sure we can all
 
 "The Ode Clade."
 
-Debarre stiffened in his seat, frowned. Sasha did her best to maintain her tired mien, keeping her gaze on Jonas.
+Debarre stiffened in his seat, frowned. Michelle did her best to maintain her tired mien, keeping her gaze on Jonas.
 
 "No clue what that means, but hey, Michelle-slash-Sasha of the Ode Clade it is."
 
-"Do we applaud? Is this exciting?" user11824 asked. He looked honestly befuddled, and Sasha admitted that she could use a life so bound by boredom that excitement could go unnoticed.
+"Do we applaud? Is this exciting?" user11824 asked. He looked honestly befuddled, and Michelle admitted that she could use a life so bound by boredom that excitement could go unnoticed.
 
 "It's exciting for me. I get to sleep in."
 
@@ -94,13 +94,13 @@ The pile of rags shifted, rasping its words. "Are we comfortable with this as a
 
 "Can we come up with a mechanism for tracking hands on the ground, as you so eloquently put it?"
 
-Sasha nodded eagerly to the sharp dressed man. "Please. It is not my intention to take more work just so I can do more things my way."
+Michelle nodded eagerly to the sharp dressed man. "Please. It is not my intention to take more work just so I can do more things my way."
 
 "And we'll have to be careful not to overextend our reach. There being only the eight of us kind of limits our capabilities by necessity."
 
 "We can be open about it, set limits for ourselves. Maybe no more than ten per council member."
 
-"It might be handy to fork further for personal reasons down the line," Sasha said, carefully avoiding Debarre's gaze. "I can think of a hundred things I would like to do."
+"It might be handy to fork further for personal reasons down the line," Michelle said, carefully avoiding Debarre's gaze. "I can think of a hundred things I would like to do."
 
 The weasel's frown deepened.
 
@@ -114,9 +114,9 @@ The weasel's frown deepened.
 
 "There's some changes I've been meaning to make. Maybe I can even figure out how to make it like a real demolition process, too. Putting a sledgehammer through drywall? Exquisite. Simply exquisite."
 
-The chatter continued around the table. Sasha focused on her mocha, studiously avoiding Debarre's searching gaze.
+The chatter continued around the table. Michelle focused on her mocha, studiously avoiding Debarre's searching gaze.
 
-The cone of silence was dropped, and council members left at their own pace until only Sasha, Jonas, and Debarre left.
+The cone of silence was dropped, and council members left at their own pace until only Michelle, Jonas, and Debarre left.
 
 "So, what's the deal with the clade name? And why are you two being so weird around each other?" Jonas asked.
 
@@ -126,19 +126,19 @@ There was a moment's silence, then Debarre murmured, "You tell him."
 
 Jonas shrugged. "Well, fair enough. You didn't answer why you two got all weird, though."
 
-"Complicated stuff. Both Sasha and--"
+"Complicated stuff. Both Michelle and--"
 
-"We were both among the lost," Sasha interrupted, shooting Debarre a warning glance.
+"We were both among the lost," she interrupted, shooting Debarre a warning glance.
 
 Jonas held his hands up to forestall further conversation. "This is between you two. You can share what you want when you've got it sorted out."
 
-Debarre nodded sullenly. Sasha looked down at her paws.
+Debarre nodded sullenly. Michelle looked down at her hands.
 
 "While we're on complicated subjects, I have an admission to make." Jonas looked sheepish. "I have a small clade of my own on the side. All for personal stuff, of course, nothing tied to the Council."
 
 Debarre tilted his head, then laughed. It was an earnest laugh, full-throated, and Sasha realized that Jonas had said precisely the right thing to cut through the tension.
 
-"Do you have some equally stupid clade name?" Sasha said, grinning.
+"Do you have some equally stupid clade name?" Michelle said, grinning.
 
 "Oh, just the Jonas Clade. I'm going to keep forking as long as I have reputation, so we've been naming ourselves with syllables. There's plenty enough of those. I'll stay Jonas Prime, but there's already a Ku, Ar, and Re Jonas."
 
@@ -148,7 +148,7 @@ Jonas batted his eyes at Debarre. "Thank you. I try."
 
 After a bit more chatter, Debarre made his goodbyes and left the sim.
 
-Sasha and Jonas tacitly agreed to go for a walk down the street. The sim was of a comfortable, small town plaza, so it was a pleasant enough walk. They made their way to a central fountain and, while Jonas sat on the rim and watched, Sasha dumped hunk after hunk of reputation to create her ten forks. They alternated between looking like Michelle and looking like Sasha. Each introduced herself in turn.
+Michelle and Jonas tacitly agreed to go for a walk down the street. The sim was of a comfortable, small town plaza, so it was a pleasant enough walk. They made their way to a central fountain and, while Jonas sat on the rim and watched, Michelle dumped hunk after hunk of reputation to create her ten forks. They alternated between looking like Michelle and looking like Sasha. Each introduced herself in turn.
 
 "I Am At A Loss For Images In This End Of Days of the Ode Clade."
 
@@ -178,7 +178,7 @@ She laughed. "Oh, sure. Let us go with 'True Name'."
 
 "Is that heating up?"
 
-"Yeah, there's some real grade-A stupidity going on out there." Jonas paused to wave to the rest of the Ode Clade, which left the sim en masse. "Lots of this and that about how software can't be an individual blah blah blah. One particularly vile shithead suggested that if we wanted to be treated as individuals, we would need to contribute to society as equals with those still in the embodied world. He suggested we could split the system and dump individuals into flight computers and software rigs and other expert systems to run those so that they wouldn't have to."
+"Yeah, there's some real grade-A stupidity going on out there." Jonas paused to wave to the rest of the Ode Clade, which left the sim *en masse*. "Lots of this and that about how software can't be an individual blah blah blah. One particularly vile shithead suggested that if we wanted to be treated as individuals, we would need to contribute to society as equals with those still in the embodied world. He suggested we could split the system and dump individuals into flight computers and software rigs and other expert systems to run those so that they wouldn't have to."
 
 True Name frowned. "What a dick. Is that kind of opinion common out there? I am still coming off the mountain of work that was the reputation market."