From 1ffa87c6ccad3d30018623a60e16688fae7a75fe Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Madison Scott-Clary Date: Tue, 23 Jan 2024 18:20:10 -0800 Subject: [PATCH] update from sparkleup --- writing/post-self/motes/008.html | 7 ++++--- 1 file changed, 4 insertions(+), 3 deletions(-) diff --git a/writing/post-self/motes/008.html b/writing/post-self/motes/008.html index 07810d290..4ce7c7ff6 100644 --- a/writing/post-self/motes/008.html +++ b/writing/post-self/motes/008.html @@ -68,7 +68,7 @@

The skunk nodded. “Yeah, like that. I just have way less of that in me than either you or A Finger Pointing. You are both way better at this than I am. Dot means a lot to me. A whole lot, actually. That we have to have a systech on staff to kick her into forking whenever she dies on stage just kills me. It breaks my heart whenever I see that.”

Dry Grass winced. “Me too. I will not show up to a performance if I know that will happen.”

“Really? Shit. I am sorry. At least I am not alone in that,” Beholden mumbled, nudging herself to start swinging as well. “It is moments like those when I feel most like she is my kid, though. I feel that family dynamic most when she is at risk, you know? When Slow Hours and I argue about that sort of thing, that is when I feel most protective of her, like my sister is doing something bad to her.”

-

“Was it always like that?”

+

“Was it always like that?”

She hesitated, simply letting the swing carry her for a few moments. “I do not know. I was really caught off guard when she started calling A Finger Pointing ‘Ma’. I mean, so was A Finger Pointing, but that had a lot of implications for me, too, did it not? I was suddenly her mom’s wife, right? Or at least partner.”

Dry Grass nodded.

“So it took me a lot of getting used to. Even boss was a little caught off guard by that. I shied away from her for a bit when she started started, I am sorry to say. ‘Bee’ is a compromise that felt on the edge of comfort at the time, though now it feels really good when she calls me that. She calls you ‘Ma 2.0’, did you know that?”

@@ -87,8 +87,9 @@

Beholden laughed. “To her? Or as yourself?”

“Oh, to her!” she said, smirking. “Though who knows, maybe I would give the slide version a go, myself.”

The conversation of good things continued — Motes designing the playground, Warmth In Fire designing the chalk lines that followed the two of them as they ran around, A Finger Pointing and Beholden sitting on the stoop of their home to watch the sun set while skunks played in the grass — until they grew weary of the swings digging into their backsides and hunger started tugging them back toward home and what joys they had built began to fade in the face of the immediate past.

-

Lunch was, despite being a sauce served over rice, all the same dry and ashen in Beholden’s mouth as she struggled with so many swirling feelings, so many spiraling thoughts around what had happened. -(( Confusion and coming to terms with Motes in the family ))

+

With each step, a bit of color once more seeped from the world and a bit more worry once more gnawed at Beholden’s gut.

+

Lunch was, despite being a sauce served over rice, all the same dry and ashen in Beholden’s mouth as she struggled with so many swirling feelings, so many spiraling thoughts around what had happened.

+

Still, she managed to clean her plate, managed to straighten herself up for the meeting with Waking World, managed to only yell at him a little bit. She managed as best she could as they did their best to learn what paths forward they had.

(( Caring for A Finger Pointing ))
(((( Pointillist sighs wistfully. “She has recorded me doing all sorts of things in my day-to-day as well. There is a recording of my heartfelt laughter turning to dire sobbing after a really rough day. She chopped it into little slivers of half-recognizable samples and haunted an entire album with it like the world’s longest “Chihuahua or Muffin” slideshow.” ))))

(( The origin of struggling with emotions, tamping down grief in order to work with sound, ever AwDae’s thing ))