update from sparkleup

writing/post-self/scientist-subject.html

@@ -19,9 +19,9 @@
 <p>This, however, was not her goal. </p>
 <p>Motes walked these streets because she knew there was a bar there — granted, one she had only ever been to as Big Motes — and she was tired, and she was hoping only that she would be seen somewhere along the way. She knew she had a shadow, somewhere in this quilt of worlds. She just wanted it to find its way here, now. </p>
 <p>But there had so far been nothing.</p>
-<p>This was a test. It was a test and Motes knew it, for she was both subject and scientist. She was the one studying and the one studied. She walked the world in the hopes of being seen by the test&rsquo;s other subject and scientist, her shadow, and they each watched themselves, took note in changes. How was she feeling now? And now? How about now? </p>
+<p>This was a test. It was a test and Motes knew it, for she was both subject and scientist. She was the one studied and the one studying. She walked the world in the hopes of being seen by the test&rsquo;s other subject and scientist, her shadow, and they each watched themselves, took note in changes. How was she feeling now? And now? How about now? </p>
 <p>At first, there had been terror and excitement in equal measure. They were two sides of the same coin, after all: expectations amped up with adrenaline.</p>
-<p>There was terror because Motes — this Motes — knew what lay in the future for her. There would be pain, yes, and if she were unlucky, enough time to quit. </p>
+<p>There was terror because Motes — this Motes — knew what lay in the future for her. There would be pain, yes, and if she were lucky, enough time to quit. </p>
 <p>If she were unlucky, if she were not at the top of her game&hellip;well, no one knew. Not even In The Wind, who knew more about this stuff than just about anyone, knew what lay in store for a cladist whose body died in the Rift without them merging back down. Would they still be able to quit with some glimmer of consciousness? Or would they haunt the dreaming world, here, their spirit unalive, yet unable to die?</p>
 <p>And there was excitement because this was her game. This was her play. This was the way in which she dove ever deeper into knowing her true self. She had ever done so, sys-side (much to Beholden&rsquo;s chatting), but this unknowable fact here kept her from digging too much into those same feelings. <em>No one,</em> she had heard nearly all of her cocladists say, <em>wants to bury a body. No one wants to bury a child.</em> She loved them all too much to put them through that. </p>
 <p>But as the days dragged on, the excitement waned and the terror lifted. There was a brief phase of curiosity, of wonderment and exploration, but even this failed, and now she was just tired.</p>