update from sparkleup
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<p>A pair of soft, fur-covered arms draping over eir shoulders and an equally soft-furred cheek pressing against eir own brought em out of eir reverie, if reverie it was. Ey tilted eir head against her cheek and held her arms to eir front.</p>
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<p>“Hey asshole,” the skunk said, echoing the epithet from a minute before.</p>
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<p>“Hi May.” Ey grinned, turning eir head enough to get at least a sidelong glance at her. “Well done on that ‘ever’. Thought you were going to punch me in the stomach or something.”</p>
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<p>She nipped at eir shoulder, letting em feel sharp teeth even through the thick fabric of the costume, before standing up. “That would be out of character, my dear. Both for my character and I. Might be fun sometime, though.”</p>
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<p>She nipped at eir shoulder, letting em feel sharp teeth even through the thick fabric of the costume, before standing up. “That would be out of character, my dear. Both for my character and me. Might be fun sometime, though.”</p>
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<p>They made their way backstage, letting the hands — several of whom were also them — deal with the scene change. Backstage, then back behind even that to their dressing room, where they were each able to get straightened up in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror.</p>
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<p>As always, when coming face to face with emself in costume, the feeling of being someone else all but disappeared, and ey marveled at the fact that ey’d even let May talk em into this however many years ago. If there was one thing that ey was, it was a historian, right? It was a writer. An investigative journalist, right? Ey was in no way a stage actor, right?</p>
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<p>But the Ioan that stared back at em, one skinny almost to the point of gaunt, one with sallow skin and sunken eyes, was proof of the opposite. It had taken em at least a year to really, truly master the art of forking over and over to carefully modify one’s appearance. It felt counter to so many instincts, and even still, ey left a Ioan back home, unchanged from the view of emself that felt most at home, just to ensure that there remained some tie to that. May had chided em for this, but ey couldn’t let go entirely.</p>
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<p>“And it is our job as Odists to fuck with you until you break out of it. I have faith in em, just as I had faith in you.” She slid the paper back across the table to em. “You just need to pass that on.”</p>
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<p>Page generated on 2022-04-08</p>
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<p>Page generated on 2022-05-13</p>
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<p>“A trade,” Sarah said thoughtfully. “Why, do you think?”</p>
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<p>Why Ask Questions laughed. “No clue. My personal guess is that it is a hedge, that they are wanting to meet on both vehicles so that we can see what their lives are like while they see what ours are like, but also it gives them a chance ensure that we still meet on territory that they control, just in case we decide to murder all of them when they arrive.”</p>
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<p>“Is that something we’re worried about, too?” Tycho asked.</p>
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<p>“It was Tycho#Artemis that brought it up the first place,” True Name said.</p>
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<p>“It was Tycho#Artemis that brought it up in the first place,” True Name said.</p>
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<p>He blinked, then shook his head. “I’ve only heard from him via sensorium message. He hasn’t merged back down yet.”</p>
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<p><em>“I will never understand taskers,”</em> Dear said, giggling. <em>“With apologies to present company, of course.”</em></p>
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<p>Tycho looked nonplussed.</p>
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<p>“And you, Dear?” Why Ask Questions asked. “I know that you are not joining us, but I am interested in your thoughts all the same.”</p>
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<p>The fox retrieved its paw from Codrin’s hand, choosing instead to wave it up at the sky. <em>“This is the first time that I have been to this sim. It is yours, is it not, Dr. Brahe?”</em></p>
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<p>The astronomer nodded.</p>
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<p><em>“It is truly a delightful place. I have stars in the sim where my partners and I live, but they are the familiar constellations that we remember from our time on Earth, though certainly more stars than I ever saw in the Central Corridor”</em></p>
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<p><em>“It is truly a delightful place. I have stars in the sim where my partners and I live, but they are the familiar constellations that we remember from our time on Earth, though certainly more stars than I ever saw in the Central Corridor.”</em></p>
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<p>“<em>We</em> ever saw,” True Name added, laughing. “We got the moon, a few planets, and the brighter constellations.”</p>
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<p><em>“Yes,”</em> Dear said with a hint of a bow. <em>“This, however, is incredible. We are seeing the stars as if there were a glass dome over our heads. They do not twinkle. The constellations are not quite as I remember them. They feel older, somehow. We are sitting beneath the universe, it feels, and above us lies eternity.</em></p>
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<p><em>“You must forgive me for monologuing, it is an old habit, but when I think about what is happening, when I hear about Artemisians and emissaries, I feel every minute of that eternity. I feel every molecule of that universe. You ask how I feel, and I would say that I feel small. Insignificant, even. We have been on our journey for twenty years and have made it only a light-month from Earth. How much of that eternity must they have been traveling?”</em></p>
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<p>“No more shop talk until dessert,” Why Ask Questions added. “Or I will have Tycho bounce you from the sim. There is lasagna, and I will not have you spoiling that.”</p>
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<p>Page generated on 2022-05-08</p>
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<p>Page generated on 2022-05-13</p>
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<p>“I imagine so, yes. Would you like a small break from language acquisition? If you are having dreams about them, perhaps you can come up with some specific questions and we can send them a message.” She patted him on the arm. “Time-boxed, of course, but it may give you a chance to come up with some ideas that we have not.”</p>
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<p>“Really? You’d let me do that?”</p>
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<p>She laughed, nodded. “Of course, Tycho. You are always welcome to ask to do something other than what you are doing. We would just request that you fork to do so. However, since this is not your area of expertise, I am sure that Answers Will Not Help will be willing to give you, say, two hours to work on something else if it will also serve to increase our knowledge of the situation. One moment, please.”</p>
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<p>There was moment of silence as True Name stood at the entrance to the central work area, sipping — or, well, lapping at — her coffee. After a moment, Answers Will Not Help showed up before her.</p>
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<p>There was a moment of silence as True Name stood at the entrance to the central work area, sipping — or, well, lapping at — her coffee. After a moment, Answers Will Not Help showed up before her.</p>
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<p>“Morning, dear,” she said. “Everything alright?”</p>
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<p>“Tycho would like to take a few hours to work on a message to the Artemisians. Are you alright with that?”</p>
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<p>The woman laughed and nodded. “Oh, by all means. We will get by without him for a bit. See you at lunch, Dr. Brahe?”</p>
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<p><em>This is why I’m a tasker,</em> ey thought. <em>I’ll never understand clades.</em></p>
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<p>“Should we also ask where they came from?” she continued.</p>
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<p>He frowned. “I don’t know about that one. It can be a very involved answer, and who knows, maybe even touchy. Perhaps a separate set of questions for science down the line, since those will take them more time to come up with. Maybe we can come up with a list of questions to have them prepare answers for at the conference.”</p>
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<p>“Oh! Wonderful idea!” She paused, likely sending off a note to one of her cocladists. “We will tackle that a separate time. I agree with you, though, that keeping this to more cultural and social topics will help. We can offer similar in return. Let us ask about leisure activities, then. What kind of stories do they tell? How do they tell them? Is storytelling limited to certain individuals, or considered a skilled trade? Is there a concept of work to make leisure time important?”</p>
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<p>“Oh! Wonderful idea!” She paused, likely sending off a note to one of her cocladists. “We will tackle that at a separate time. I agree with you, though, that keeping this to more cultural and social topics will help. We can offer similar in return. Let us ask about leisure activities, then. What kind of stories do they tell? How do they tell them? Is storytelling limited to certain individuals, or considered a skilled trade? Is there a concept of work to make leisure time important?”</p>
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<p>Tycho scribbled the rapid fire questions down on the pad, nodding as he did. Once he was finished, he said, “That got me thinking of another question, but I’m not sure how well it fits, so feel free to poke holes in it. How do you feel about asking if they dream?”</p>
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<p>She laughed delightedly and clapped her hands. “Oh, I absolutely love it, my dear. I only have one request of you.”</p>
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<p>“Yes?”</p>
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<p>He laughed, struggling to re-comb his hair with only his fingers, once more surprised at just how comfortable she made him feel. He liked her, whoever she was.</p>
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<p>Page generated on 2022-05-08</p>
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<p>Page generated on 2022-05-13</p>
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