update from sparkleup
This commit is contained in:
parent
32f68e07e3
commit
a482034e64
|
|
@ -46,7 +46,7 @@
|
|||
<p>They elbow-crawled over to drape unceremoniously over Motes’s front, sighing now that it had caught eir breath. “You are a nerd,” they said. “But I guess I like you all the same.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Pff, call me a nerd,” Motes scoffed, petting Warmth’s fur up backwards to muss it all the more. “At least I am a cute nerd!”</p>
|
||||
<p>“You are that,” the other skunk admitted. “So am I, mind. Probably cuter than you.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Mmhm mmhm mmhm.” She grinned over at Warmth. “Whatcha doin’, anyway?”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Mmhm mmhm mmhm.” She grinned down at Warmth. “Whatcha doin’, anyway?”</p>
|
||||
<p>It giggled and pushed its paws up over her face. “Motes Motes Motes! Look at you, all growed up, using contractions.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Mmnf! Is ‘whatcha’ a contraction?”</p>
|
||||
<p>“I do not know. Did you have to focus to say it?”</p>
|
||||
|
|
@ -59,7 +59,7 @@
|
|||
<p>“Is that why you were mopey? You got one from Pollux?”</p>
|
||||
<p>Its expression soured. “That was part of it. I do not want to talk about that, though. The day is sunny and bright and you are fun to be around and I also heard from Castor.”</p>
|
||||
<p>Motes nodded. “Tell me about that, then. I do not want mopey Warmth.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Good,” they said primly. “Because Codrin#Convergence got my last letter and started asking all the Artemisians ey could for foods that they liked to start sending me all sorts of different flavors. Ey is <em>such</em> a nerd. Ey practically set me a tome describing all of the different ingredients they showed em and what they looked and tasted like on their own, and then how they were put together into different dishes and what <em>those</em> looked and tasted like.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Good,” they said primly. “Because Codrin#Convergence got my last letter and started asking all the Artemisians ey could for foods that they liked to start sending me all sorts of different flavors. Ey is <em>such</em> a nerd. Ey practically sent me a tome describing all of the different ingredients they showed em and what they looked and tasted like on their own, and then how they were put together into different dishes and what <em>those</em> looked and tasted like.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“All of the Bălans are nerds,” Motes said. “Did you write back to tell em that?”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Mmhm! I accused em of going back to being a weirdo historian.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Good!”</p>
|
||||
|
|
@ -73,37 +73,37 @@
|
|||
<p>Figuring there was nothing for it, she gathered up a spoonful of the fluff, complete with a few pips, said, “Onetwothree<em>go!</em>” and stuffed it into her mouth…then immediately raced to swallow it. “Mmnglhfnnf!”</p>
|
||||
<p>Warmth bust into a fit of giggles and forked several times in quick succession, the crowd of em breaking into a wild applause, complete with standing ovation and shouts of ‘Bravo! Brava! Bravissimo!’, before quitting.</p>
|
||||
<p>“It tastes like passion fruit and licking battery terminals at the same time!” Motes cried, bringing into being a glass of water to rinse out her muzzle.</p>
|
||||
<p>“I know, right?” ey said dreamily. “I hate it!”</p>
|
||||
<p>“I know, right?” ey said dreamily. “I hate it.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“So do I!” At least the water seemed to wash the taste away quickly. “Are the other ones better?”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Oh, totally!”</p>
|
||||
<p>Motes dipped her fingers into the glass and flicked some of the water at Warmth. “Then why the fuc– why the frick did you give me <em>this</em> one?”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Because you are a fatty and because it would be fun and because I knew you would be honest in your reaction,” it said, preening.</p>
|
||||
<p>“Yeah, well, I honestly hate it.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Mmhm! But you saying ‘passion fruit’ was new! Rye just said it was “sour and sweet and unpleasant” and Praiseworthy would not try it at all. Now I can compare it to passion fruit and try new things.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Rye is always too polite,” Motes said, grinning. “But I like her!”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Rye is always too polite,” Motes said, grinning. “But I like her.”</p>
|
||||
<p>It nodded. “She really is, and I love her. She is…mm,” ey squinted up at the trees, hunting for words. “We are kind of like an extended family, yes? Like, you have your ma and Bee, and big sister Slow Hours, and so on, all super close, but my stanza is like a bunch of piblings and niblings. We all like each other, and we love family get-togethers, and Rye is the best at making them happen. She wants us all to be happy.”</p>
|
||||
<p>She waved away the fork and glass of water, flopping back onto the grass once more. “That is why I like her, yeah,” she said, folding her paws over her belly, pensive.</p>
|
||||
<p>She waved away the utensil and glass of water, flopping back onto the grass once more. “That is why I like her, yeah,” she said, folding her paws over her belly, pensive.</p>
|
||||
<p>Warmth dismissed the <em>frahabrodåt</em> and stretched out on their belly. “Now why did <em>you</em> get all mopey all of the sudden?”</p>
|
||||
<p>She shrugged, peeking over at the other skunk through the blades of grass and drooping columbines. “Just family stuff on the brain.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Precious little of that, my dear,” ey said, gently rapping her atop the head while making a hollow clicking noise with its tongue. When Motes merely stuck out her tongue, their expression softened. “Sorry, Mote. Why family stuff? Why is that mope-inducing? Usually you love that. Sometimes you go on about ‘ma and Bee this’ and ‘Sis Hours that’ and it is <em>lovely.</em>“</p>
|
||||
<p>“Slow Hours hates it when I call her that,” Motes said, smirking, then returned her gaze to the sky. “Just been lots of thinking and talk lately about how much trouble me being small causes.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Slow Hours used to hate it when I called her that,” Motes said, smirking, then returned her gaze to the sky. “Just been lots of thinking and talk lately about how much trouble me being small causes.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“But I am small.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“I know, but like the smallest. Like, the youngest.”</p>
|
||||
<p>Warmth huffed, indignant. “But <em>I</em> am the youngest! I am the babiest! That is my whole thing, yes? I am the most recently forked, the most recently-claimed line.”</p>
|
||||
<p>Rolling over onto her side, Motes smiled apologetically at her friend. “I know, I am sorry. We are the little ones, right? Dry Grass even calls us that! Her little ones.”</p>
|
||||
<p>The other skunk subsided. “I know. And I think I know what you mean, too: there is a difference between “the babiest Odist” and “Actual Kid: Motes In The Stage-Lights”, yes?”</p>
|
||||
<p>Rolling over onto her side, Motes smiled apologetically at her friend. “I know, I am sorry. We are the little ones, right? Dry Grass even calls us that. Her little ones.”</p>
|
||||
<p>The other skunk subsided. “I know. And I think I know what you mean, too: there is a difference between ‘the babiest Odist’ and ‘Actual Kid: Motes In The Stage-Lights’, yes?”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Mmhm. I knew it was weird and all, and a lot of people did not like it, but I am surprised to learn just how much some people hate it.”</p>
|
||||
<p>Ey furrowed their brow. “You are?” they asked dubiously. “I though you knew that, too.”</p>
|
||||
<p>She laughed, rolling onto her back again. “I know there are lots of people who hate the whole bit. I meant more like Hammered Silver cutting off our whole stanza.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Oh.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Yeah,” Motes said, sighing. “Like, Sasha was the last straw, sure, but it was also because of me being a kid and because we have the whole family dynamic.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Yeah,” Motes said, sighing. “Like, Sasha was the last straw, sure, but it was also because of all of that.”</p>
|
||||
<p>Warmth sighed, stretching their arms in front of em. “I know she has not <em>actually</em> cut me off, but she might as well have. Her and In Dreams both, with their stanzas.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“How do you mean?”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Well, they cut off Dear, right?” it said. “And I am rather a lot of Dear. I am Dear and Rye and Praiseworthy! I am all of my down-trees. I <em>like</em> being all of my down-trees. I am proud of it!” She grinned. “I think of all of those, they might like Rye okay, but they hate Dear, and I cannot imagine them being too into Praiseworthy after the <em>History</em> named her as the propagandist during Secession.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Well, they cut off Dear, right?” it said. “And I am rather a lot of Dear. I am Dear and Rye and Praiseworthy. I am all of my down-trees. I <em>like</em> being all of my down-trees. I am proud of it!” She grinned. “I think of all of those, they might like Rye okay, but they hate Dear, and I cannot imagine them being too into Praiseworthy after the <em>History</em> named her as the propagandist during Secession.”</p>
|
||||
<p>Motes frowned. “Wait, really?”</p>
|
||||
<p>“I mean, I have not actually talked to them, but they cut off Dear for less.” Ey laughed bitterly. “But again, I am also a little one, right? We also have our family dynamic, yes? Hell, Rye and Pointillist are <em>plenty</em> chummy, if you know what I mean.”</p>
|
||||
<p>She laughed. “They write each other letters!”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Yeah. Sexy letters.”</p>
|
||||
<p>She laughed. “They just write each other letters!”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Yeah. <em>Sexy</em> letters.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Well, okay,” Motes said, still giggling. “Do you really think they have cut you off? Effectively if not actually, I mean.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“I have not talked with them, but neither have they talked with me,” they said. “I think that I am one step away from being in their cross-hairs. I am over here doing my weird stuff, making things and food and whatever. I am not really political, I am not being sneaky or dating a Bălan or whatever. I <em>am</em> part Dear, though, and I <em>am</em> small like you.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Which do you think would piss them off more?”</p>
|
||||
|
|
@ -124,7 +124,7 @@
|
|||
<p>“Mmhm. Now, come on. Let us lick a battery terminal and eat a passion fruit and see how it stacks up against <em>frahabrodåt,</em> and then get some <em>actual</em> food.”</p>
|
||||
</article>
|
||||
<footer>
|
||||
<p>Page generated on 2024-01-15</p>
|
||||
<p>Page generated on 2024-01-18</p>
|
||||
</footer>
|
||||
</main>
|
||||
<script type="text/javascript">
|
||||
|
|
|
|||
Loading…
Reference in New Issue