update from sparkleup

writing/post-self/motes/008.html

@@ -92,6 +92,14 @@
 <p>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.</p>
 <p>She tamped down her emotions throughout, press-fit them into place within her so that they would not spill over into the world around her, bottled them up, wrote a label on the jar, and set it on a shelf high in her mind to deal with later, right next to all of the other jars about which she had promised the same.</p>
 <p>She had to, at least for now, at least for the time being. She would need to reckon with the person that she had built herself up into. She would need to deal with all of the compromises that she had made in order to be Beholden. She was Beholden To The Heat Of The Lamps! Sound and music director for the troupe! She was lead sound tech! This was the cost of engaging so closely with what had once been her dearest friend&rsquo;s specialty. This was the price she paid for being Au Lieu Du Rêve&rsquo;s very own AwDae. It was her fragility, and the only way she knew to reinforce herself was through setting such emotions aside. She would need to confront that, but not just yet, not with so much before her.</p>
+<!--
+Pointillist nods, sighing deeply after setting her cup down. "She is so powerful, you must understand, Laz. If ever you write a book about Beholden, do not let her nights under the stars or silent walks alone or need for compartmentalization fool you; she, of all the Ode clade, is perhaps one of the most entangled with em. Even moreso than I."
+
+A Finger Pointing pauses, gaze drifting. "Ey was involved in theatre, as we are, but we acted, and later taught. RJ was a sound engineer. I had a cat named Priscilla, named and modelled after eir own cat. I am sure she would have beaten me within an inch of my life if she had an ounce of malice in her heart for me." She smirks. "I may dance with RJ on the regular, but it is Beholden who shares time with em. It is Beholden who is with RJ under the stars, Beholden who is with RJ on her quiet walks, Beholden who is with RJ when she is working."
+
+"Or playing. Or crying. Or laughing. Or indulging." That smirk softens into a rueful smile. "She can never escape em, try as she might, and so, from time to time, a woman needs a break from grief."
+-->
+
 <p>And so, when A Finger Pointing stood, wobbled, and requested that she take her home, Beholden had been immediately ready to stand up and gently guide her partner from the library and back to the neighborhood. She let her partner hold onto her to the extent that she was comfortable, rather than the other way around, trusting that she would take only what touch she needed lest she get yet more overwhelmed.</p>
 <p>She knew well by now the ways in which A Finger Pointing had changed over the years, about how the crash had affected her. </p>
 <p>She knew well because she had seen the exhaustion or fear or slackness in her partner&rsquo;s expression when the dissociation would crawl over her, had heard how she would turn down her sensorium almost all the way just to survive. </p>