update from sparkleup
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<p>“Lights, Dot.”</p>
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<p>Motes jolted at the sound of A Finger Pointing’s voice from the couch beside the door. “Oh! Yeah!” she said, forking off one more ephemeral instance to go flip the switch in the studio, make some spooky noises, then quit, all while #root climbed up to join her down-tree instance on the couch, slouching against her side.</p>
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<p>“All done painting?” Beholden asked, the other, larger skunk not yet looking up from where she was slicing a lime into wedges at the bar.</p>
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<p>“Mmhm!”</p>
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<p>“Mmhm.”</p>
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<p>A Finger Pointing ruffled a hand lazily through the skunk’s mane. “What were you working on, my dear?”</p>
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<p>“Same sort of thing,” she said, squinting her eyes shut lest they be poked by errant strands of that longer fur. “The shapes in my dreams are getting narrower and flatter, now.”</p>
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<p>“Are you going to wind up painting thin black lines in another hundred years?” Beholden asked from the bar, a grin audible in her voice. “Just a beautiful landscape cut in half by a hair?”</p>
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<p>Motes giggled. “I do not know! Probably. Are you making drinks, Bee?”</p>
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<p>Motes giggled. “I do not know. Probably. Are you making drinks, Bee?”</p>
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<p>The other skunk scoffed, tossing her head back, adopting a scolding tone. “Am I making drinks? Am <em>I</em> making drinks? And We Are The Motes In The Stage-Lights of the Ode clade, what happened to your brain?” She laughed, adding, “Why? Want one too?”</p>
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<p>Motes blew a raspberry in response. “Yes please!”</p>
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<p>“Beholden To The Heat Of The Lamps of the Ode clade, you had best not be feeding the child gin,” A Finger Pointing scolded in turn, scowling.</p>
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<p>They both nodded.</p>
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<p>“Can I come?”</p>
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<p>A Finger Pointing shrugged. “I do not see why not. Do you want to?”</p>
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<p>Motes grinned. “Not really! I just wanted to see if I could.”</p>
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<p>Motes grinned. “Not really. I just wanted to see if I could.”</p>
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<p>Her down-tree pinched her ear between her fingers. “Very well. Will you be staying here by yourself, then?”</p>
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<p>She laughed, tilting her head and taking a lapping sip of her drink. “Maybe! Maybe I will find someone to flop with.”</p>
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<p>She laughed, tilting her head and taking a lapping sip of her drink. “Maybe. Maybe I will find someone to flop with.”</p>
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<p>“Cuddly Dot?” Beholden asked, leaning closer to sandwich her between her two guardians, between Ma and Bee.</p>
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<p>Motes wriggled right in between them. “Mmhm. Not tired, just lazy.”</p>
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<p>“Flop away,” A Finger Pointing said fondly. “Who do you think you will ask?”</p>
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@ -105,7 +105,7 @@
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<p>It was her use of ‘ma’ that caused perhaps the most trouble. It was trouble that came not as a gentle suggestion from ‘on high’, such as it were, but this suggestion in particular had over time led to frustration and anger in her down-tree instance, A Finger Pointing. She kept it to herself, masked it well enough, but Motes knew the signs.</p>
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<p>Still, she did as she was told and kept this particular sense of family to herself and those she loved. She was a good girl, of course, always tried to be, but she was also as much an Odist as those who spoke so often of optics. She saw the trends, the prickly taboo against intraclade relationships like that of A Finger Pointing and Beholden, how the subversiveness of found family might rub up against that. She had her guesses, but–</p>
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<p>“Motes? Did you hear what I said?” Beholden asked, ruffling her mane all up.</p>
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<p>“Nope!” Motes said, smiling primly. “I have been ignoring you both.”</p>
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<p>“Nope.” Motes said, smiling primly. “I have been ignoring you both.”</p>
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<p>Beholden rolled her eyes. “Brat. Lost in thought?”</p>
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<p>She shrugged, sipping her drink yet more. “I guess. Was thinking of fusspots and all the trouble calling ma ‘ma’ caused. Glad it is not a thing anymore.”</p>
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<p>“<em>Less</em> of a thing,” A Finger Pointing corrected. “It is not <em>not</em> a thing. What Beholden was saying, though, is that we were going to head off. The offer stands for you to join us, Dot.”</p>
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@ -118,7 +118,7 @@
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<p>There was a moment’s silence, a sense of laughter, and then, <em>“Motes Motes Motes! How are you, skunklet?”</em></p>
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<p><em>“Booored. Ma and Bee left to go to a pub or something with May and Ioan, and I felt like flopping instead,”</em> she sent as she dug through the fridge — more a front-end to the exchange than anything. <em>“They suggested I see if you were free if I got lonely.”</em></p>
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<p><em>“And here you are, pinging me, yes.”</em></p>
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<p><em>“Mmhm! Was going to make a food or two. Do you want some?”</em></p>
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<p><em>“Mmhm. Was going to make a food or two. Do you want some?”</em></p>
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<p>There was a sensation of a haughty frown from Dry Grass. <em>“Are you allowed to be using the stove, my dear?”</em></p>
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<p>Motes sighed dramatically. <em>“Fiiine, I will fork older.”</em></p>
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<p><em>“Good girl,”</em> came the response. <em>“I have seen you catch yourself on fire before, and am not keen on a repeat of that.”</em></p>
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<p>“What is on your mind, kiddo?” Dry Grass asked. “Usually you do not want to just flop unless you are already worn out or something got you all thinky.”</p>
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<p>“I dunno,” she said. The use of a contraction itched, brushing against the linguistic idiosyncrasies that plagued all of the Odists, even these many years later, but she had practiced for certain occasions. She shrugged, careful not to mess up the current shape. “I spent the day with Slow Hours and Sasha, and they got to talking about the past because Sasha had a question. Just thinking about being me.”</p>
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<p>“‘Being you’?”</p>
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<p>“Uh huh, like the whole kidcore thing. I was thinking about how upset it made people for a long time. Even me! I would hear a thing and get all huffy for a while and go Big Motes for a month or two.” She giggled, shrugged. “It all seems really silly now, but it stuck with me.”</p>
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<p>“Uh huh, like the whole kidcore thing. I was thinking about how upset it made people for a long time. Even me. I would hear a thing and get all huffy for a while and go Big Motes for a month or two.” She giggled, shrugged. “It all seems really silly now, but it stuck with me.”</p>
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<p>Dry Grass hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I am glad that it has gotten to the point of being silly. Are you thinking about the clade stuff?”</p>
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<p>“A little, yeah,” she hazarded, finishing up the last of Dry Grass’s nails. “I was thinking about the whole optics thing, which I thought was all the eighth stanza at first, but I guess it came from all over.”</p>
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<p>“It did, yes. Most of it came from my stanza, actually.”</p>
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<p>Motes tilted her head, squinting at her.</p>
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<p>Holding up her hands disarmingly, Dry Grass added quickly, “Not from me, my dear. Never from me. Most all of it came from Hammered Silver. A lot of her up-trees did not particularly care, and you know I actively like it.”</p>
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<p>The skunk’s smile returned. “I know. You are nice to me! I had figured if not the eighth, then In Dreams would have been the one.”</p>
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<p>The skunk’s smile returned. “I know. You are nice to me. I had figured if not the eighth, then In Dreams would have been the one.”</p>
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<p>“Oh, she was definitely another one of the big culprits. Do not get me wrong, I like the seventh stanza alright, but In Dreams can be a stickler over…well, most anything, really.”</p>
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<p>“Yeah, she pulled me aside once and started talking about there being a time and a place and blah blah blah.”</p>
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<p>“There is something to be said for curating one’s experiences, but anyone who says the words ‘there is a time and a place for everything’ is just being a bitch. Pardon my language.”</p>
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<p>“I do not know. Certainly in part, though it is also in part because, if you are her, then you could not be her child. You could not be a different age.” She hesitated, then added, “It would mean that she had the capability to become you, yes? That any of us would have that, yes?”</p>
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<p>“Oh god,” Motes said, laughing. “I cannot imagine Hammered Silver as a kid. She would be one of those prissy, stuck up girls who was the daughter of the PTA president or something.”</p>
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<p>Dry Grass laughed as well. “She is already essentially the prissy HOA president. I respect her as a person, but I do not like her, and I <em>certainly</em> do not respect her authority.”</p>
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<p>“Right, because she wants you to not talk to <em>any</em> of us!”</p>
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<p>“Right, because she wants you to not talk to <em>any</em> of us.”</p>
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<p>She nodded. “She cut off the first, eighth, part of the ninth, and now the entire fifth stanza since you took on Sasha.”</p>
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<p>Motes groaned and rolled onto her back, holding her paws up in the air to inspect her claws. “Which is stupid, because Sasha is nice!”</p>
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<p>Motes groaned and rolled onto her back, holding her paws up in the air to inspect her claws. “Which is stupid, because Sasha is nice.”</p>
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<p>“She really is, though I have not had as much a chance to speak with her as I might like. She was the last straw in a whole series of events. She does not like Sasha, does not like you, she <em>really</em> does not like the family dynamic you have set up.”</p>
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<p>Bristling, Motes glared over at Dry Grass. “It is all well and good that she not like me, but to not like my family is bullcrap.”</p>
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<p>Dry Grass nodded, expression serious. “It absolutely is. She has gotten quite upset about it a few times, but I just smile and nod and tune her out when she goes into her self-righteous spirals. I am not the type to cut anyone out of my life, for better or worse, but I will absolutely ignore people.”</p>
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<p>“Perish the thought!” The Odist laughed and leaned over to hug her cocladist, careful of her nails. “I will not. Do not worry, my dear, you are stuck with me for a good while yet. I would rather tell Hammered Silver to go fuck herself.”</p>
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</article>
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<footer>
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<p>Page generated on 2024-01-18</p>
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<p>Page generated on 2024-01-19</p>
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</footer>
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</main>
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