update from sparkleup
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Madison Scott-Clary
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<h1 id="codrin-balancastor-2325">Codrin Bălan#Castor — 2325</h1>
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<p>The first interview that Codrin Bălan conducted was with an author who had chosen to invest completely in the launches, leaving no one behind. </p>
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<p>At first, Codrin wondered why it was that this author had chosen to be a part of the interview process, why it was that Dear had recommended him. He seemed, on the surface to be entirely uninteresting. He was an author. That was that.</p>
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<p>His name was Joseph Rankin, and while Codrin had not read any of his works prior to the suggestion, ey had certainly heard the name in various literary circles that ey trawled on occasion. A man prone to grand literary gestures, one who leaned heavily on the twisting of endless sentences, ceaseless streams of fragments, prose that bordered on florid even by Codrin’s relatively flowery standards.Ey knew that ey were prone to many of the same pitfalls, but this man took it to an extreme that they found frankly unreasonable.</p>
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<p>Cousin, to prepare for the interview, had read two of Rankin’s books. They were not without their merit, as might any such book that garnered so much attention, but they still took a good bit of work to get through. He wrote most often about contemporary life within the system in all its deliriously boring intricacies.</p>
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<p>His name was Joseph Rankin, and while Codrin had not read any of his works prior to the suggestion, ey had certainly heard the name in various literary circles that ey trawled on occasion. A man prone to grand literary gestures, one who leaned heavily on the twisting of endless sentences, ceaseless streams of fragments, prose that bordered on florid even by Codrin’s relatively flowery standards. Ey knew that ey were prone to many of the same pitfalls, but this man took it to an extreme that they found frankly unreasonable.</p>
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<p>Codrin, to prepare for the interview, had read two of Rankin’s books. They were not without their merit, as might any such book that garnered so much attention, but they still took a good bit of work to get through. He wrote most often about contemporary life within the system in all its deliriously boring intricacies.</p>
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<p>That said, much of his work was bound up in a sense of magical realism that was, ey had to admit, fairly enticing. This was something that Codrin has never managed to capture emself, and so ey set aside some time to study the ways in which Rankin used surrealism to, without distracting, enhance the story at hand.</p>
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<p>Meeting Rankin was exactly as they had expected. There was nothing about him that did not shout Joseph Rankin. He wore his identity on his face, on his chest, in the way his hands moved across the table as they talked, there at the cafe, there sitting out on the street, there sipping their espressos.</p>
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<p>“So, you are the illustrious Codrin Bălan.” His voice was imperious, veering dangerously close to pompous, as he sipped espresso, looking over the rim of the demitasse appraisingly at Codrin.</p>
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<p>“So, you are the illustrious Codrin Bălan.” His voice was imperious, veering dangerously close to pompous, as he sipped espresso, looking over the rim of the demitasse appraisingly at em.</p>
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<p>Something about the man grated at em. Ey was not quite sure what it was at first, whether it was the self-assured way he spoke, or the self-aggrandizing expression he wore on his face. Nigh on intolerable.</p>
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<p>All the same, ey tried eir best to keep up eir smile as ey spoke. “And you’re Joseph Rankin. It’s a pleasure to finally get the chance to meet you in the flesh. Thank y–“</p>
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<p>“What a curious choice of phrase, in the flesh.” His tone was droll, bored. “Have you stopped to think of all of the little idioms we bring with us from ‘phys-side’? Even that term! Phys-side. It spells out very plainly that we do not exist in that form any longer. We exist in <em>opposition</em> to it. ‘Sys-side’ contains no such sense of our abstract existence.”</p>
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<p><em>“They do not need to be. They are all the same.”</em></p>
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</article>
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<footer>
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<p>Page generated on 2021-09-24</p>
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<p>Page generated on 2021-09-25</p>
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</footer>
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</main>
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<script type="text/javascript">
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<h1 id="michelle-hadjesasha-2124">Michelle Hadje/Sasha — 2124</h1>
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<p>It took Debarre a matter of seconds to answer Michelle’s request for a meeting, and his arrival in her sim, the weasel blinking into existence next to her on that endless field of grass and dandelions, startled her enough to cause her to stumble.</p>
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<p>“Shit, you okay, Michelle?”</p>
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<p>She laughed, picking herself back up. “Yeah, I just was not expecting you right away. I thought that you would set up a time later.”</p>
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<p>She laughed, picking herself back up, feeling as unsteady as ever. “Yeah, I just was not expecting you right away. I thought that you would set up a time later.”</p>
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<p>“I was free.” Debarre leaned forward and helped brush some grass off of her side. “Is it not a good time?”</p>
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<p>“No, no. Now is fine. Thank you for meeting up in the first place.”</p>
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<p>“Of course.”</p>
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<p>“Only, I wonder.” His voice sounded distant, as though he were speaking to the sky rather than her. “I wonder if your forks changed in ways other than just not being split. I wonder if they’re really even you anymore.”</p>
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</article>
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<footer>
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<p>Page generated on 2021-09-24</p>
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<p>Page generated on 2021-09-25</p>
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</footer>
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</main>
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<script type="text/javascript">
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