From 7b71ef394a783778b9d61ec9dd5aa3a2ad24bf12 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Madison Scott-Clary Date: Tue, 14 Nov 2023 16:05:48 -0800 Subject: [PATCH] update from sparkleup --- writing/post-self/marsh/006.html | 13 +++++++++++-- 1 file changed, 11 insertions(+), 2 deletions(-) diff --git a/writing/post-self/marsh/006.html b/writing/post-self/marsh/006.html index 5e810cd7e..23ce46d96 100644 --- a/writing/post-self/marsh/006.html +++ b/writing/post-self/marsh/006.html @@ -99,12 +99,21 @@ I’d met Jess a few times before at dinner parties or the like, and she def

I tightened my grip on my fork, leaving it stabbed into a pile of salad. “I’ve been dealing with a lot of that,” I said, voice cracking. “I keep thinking there has to be something more I can do, or wondering how I can do something like this.” I gestured at the table with a forkful of greens. “Having a dinner party while Marsh is gone.”

Dry Grass nodded. “Precisely that, yes.”

“I got super angry,” Hold My Name said, her comfortable alto dipping back into a tenor, as though the mood demanded less of her transfemininity. “Like, really angry. I had to move back into my own place for a while after, I was so mad. How could she do that? We were already unmoored by Qoheleth’s assassination, and now Michelle had quit, too. It stranded all the stanzas, leaving behind ten brand new clades.”

+

The Marshans winced, suddenly understanding the same of ourselves.

She shrugged, turning her glass of water between fingers. “I slowly calmed down, but that anger hit again after I learned about all of the shit the eighth stanza did, all of that controlling. There were even hints that Michelle had been nudged to quit by True Name, who I’d already suspected of being behind Qoheleth’s assassination. Now I had a target for that anger.”

I glanced surreptitiously at Lily, who was keeping herself still, tightly under control.

Another glance at Dry Grass showed her watching Lily warily in turn.

((Warmth stuff)) -Then the moment of tension passed uneasily, as Warmth In Fire spoke up next. “I will say as I always do, my dear: your anger is

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“I know that it is quite soon, and that there may yet be some solution,” Dry Grass said gently, nodding to Lily. “But what are your feelings on potentially being without a root instance?”

+Then the moment of tension passed uneasily, as Warmth In Fire spoke up next. “I will say as I always do, my dear: your anger is based around a memory that does not fit the reality of the situation. I have met Sasha through my friendship with Motes, through that association with A Finger Pointing, who ever stood up for Sasha, even when she was True Name. I have eaten dinner with her. I have watched the way she smiles. I have watched the distance at which she holds herself from time to time. I have seen the flashes of regret-tinted understanding when topics of the past crop up. She is not who she was, but neither was she who you say she must have been. I cannot even linger in discomfort around her.”

+

Hold My Name sighed, tired gaze level on her partner. This carried the cadence of an old argument, one had dozens or hundreds of times before.

+

Lily only gripped her glass tighter.

+

“She is no murderer. Not of Qoheleth, and certainly not of Michelle,” Warmth In Fire continued confidently, the gravity of their words held in tension with the ineffably childlike openness of her expression. “Yes, you may hate her, and yet I cannot. Yes, my down-tree, Dear, loathes her, and yet I do not. Yes, Dear’s down-tree, Rye, holds her own distaste, but on one thing we agree: she is no longer who she was. We are both suckers for character development. I am Dear. I am Rye. I am Praiseworthy, and Michelle too, but I am also my own person.”

+

“I know, Bean,” Hold My Name said, voice tired. “You have said this countless times before, and I appreciate the balance that brings, but I am also my own person separate from you. I hate her, you do not. We are allowed to not be alike.”

+

The skunk nodded, waiting for her cocladist and partner to continue.

+

“I did not even like Qoheleth all that much. I thought he was a putz who had lost his marbles,” she said, smirking. “But Michelle–”

+

Warmth In Fire waved its paw jerkily, a flash of despair washing over eir features. “Michelle was murdered, yes, but the act of violence took place at the root of her trauma. Of our trauma, My.” The skunk was crying now, quietly and bitterly. “The act of violence that led to us being so fucked up — beautifully, wonderfully fucked up — and which led to the creation of the System also destroyed someone centuries later because she was never given help. It was her right to quit as she did, leaving us ten clades and not one, but her murderers were all of us who did not help, not some wicked machinations of only one of us.”

+

At the sudden force of their words, Hold My Name’s expression shifted to one of alarm, and she reached out to take up one of her partner’s paws. Dry Grass did much the same.

+

“I know that it is quite soon, and that there may yet be some solution as you have said,” Dry Grass said gently, nodding to Lily. “But on that note, what are your feelings on potentially being without a root instance?”

Lily shrugged awkwardly. “I don’t know yet. I’m still dealing with the stress of everything. That’s a big part of why I wanted to come here in the first place. I was feeling left out and lonely.”

We all nodded, and I reached out to pat the back of her hand.

She smiled gratefully at me before continuing. “Actually, I was starting to get paranoid that maybe this wasn’t over. I guess there’s no guarantee that it is. Who knows, maybe more people will start disappearing? I was getting worried that more of the clade would go missing, or that I’d just disappear without a trace, too.”