From 72028e64753bb09830bed92670bdb26580137fc1 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Madison Scott-Clary Date: Sun, 2 Jan 2022 20:40:02 -0600 Subject: [PATCH] update from sparkleup --- writing/post-self/neviim/ioan/010.html | 6 +++--- 1 file changed, 3 insertions(+), 3 deletions(-) diff --git a/writing/post-self/neviim/ioan/010.html b/writing/post-self/neviim/ioan/010.html index 8746509ba..3a5b74057 100644 --- a/writing/post-self/neviim/ioan/010.html +++ b/writing/post-self/neviim/ioan/010.html @@ -15,16 +15,16 @@

Ioan Bălan — 2346

The dinner that Do I Know God After The End Waking had prepared for them was…rustic. That was the first term that ey had come up with to describe it, and no matter how else ey tried to nail it down further, ey was left with little else.

It was a venison stew with parsnips and onions, thickened with tack and stretched with some barleycorns. ‘Woodsy’ was not quite the right word, and neither was ‘simple’, for the skunk had spent the better part of an hour doting over the kettle ey’d hung over a low fire, adding salt in what Ioan felt were miserly pinches, as well as pepper and nutmeg as though they were the most precious items in the world to him.

-

When asked where he got the spices, barley, and tack in a forest, the skunk had shook his head and said, “I am not a fucking ascetic, Ioan,” and gone back to cooking.

+

When asked where he got the spices, barley, and tack in a forest, the skunk had laughed, shaken his head, and said, “I am not a fucking ascetic, Ioan,” then gone back to cooking.

So, rustic stew it was, that night. Very, very good rustic stew. End Waking had explained that, as he had no way to store leftovers, they would need to finish the entire pot that night. It turned out to be no stretch for the small gathering — Ioan and May, Time Is A Finger Pointing At Itself, Douglas, and End Waking himself — as they all went back for seconds. The ranger skunk even swirled in a little extra water once the pot was empty, using a fingerpad to wipe what stew remained down into that to make himself a thin soup to finish out of the battered mug he’d been using as a bowl for the night.

They’d each brought their own contribution for the night, as well. After dinner, A finger Pointing pulled out a bottle of over-proof white whiskey that they passed around the circle. Ioan and May brought with them a short, two-person play that they put on for the other three, full of crude jokes and self-deprecating humor. Douglas, having picked up music as a hobby since uploading, performed a trio with three instances, one on flute, one on a mandolin, and one on a cajón.

“Outclassed,” A Finger Pointing grumbled. “You said ‘bring something’, my dear, so I brought a bottle to drink, and you all bring plays and music.”

“You will hear no complaints from me,” End Waking said, grinning toothily. “Do you know how long it has been since I have had whiskey?”

She laughed and shook her head. “I will bring you a case next time.”

-

The skunk shook his head. “I am enjoying the ability to taste something again after years. It makes it special.”

+

The skunk shook his head. “I am enjoying the ability to taste something again after missing it for years. It makes it special.”

“Sap.”

He rolled his eyes and flipped her off.

-

The other Odist had fallen largely into the pattern of a human Michelle, though over the centuries, she had opted for a form that was a little taller, a little slimmer, and bore more heavily styled hair. She had also headed towards hedonism more than any of the other Odists Ioan had met. She ate heartily, drank more than all of them — though this manifested mostly in a ruddy glint to her cheeks and a somewhat more wicked grin than usual — and brought with her a very comfortable-looking camp chair.

+

The other Odist had fallen largely into the pattern of a human Michelle, though over the centuries, she had opted for a form that was a little taller, a little slimmer, and bore more heavily styled hair, prone to grand gestures and grand outfits in all black or all gray or all red. She had also headed towards hedonism more than any of the other Odists Ioan had met. She ate heartily, drank more than all of them — though this manifested mostly in a ruddy glint to her cheeks and a somewhat more wicked grin than usual — and brought with her a very comfortable-looking camp chair.

Even having worked with her for nearly a decade as a playwright and under her direction as an actor, ey continually found emself surprised by her simple desire to enjoy life, put on good plays, and be friends with everyone she could. It was a simplicity that was lacking from all of her cocladists that ey’d had a chance to meet.

“Do you wish that you had the chance to meet them?” End Waking said, once the fire had been stoked back up to stave off the deepening darkness.

“The Artemisians?” A Finger Pointing asked.