update from sparkleup
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Madison Scott-Clary
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<p>End Waking grinned toothily.</p>
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<p>After taking another sip of the tisane and chewing on the resulting leaves, ey asked, “You’re obviously still here on the L<sub>5</sub> System, but did you send a fork along on the LVs?”</p>
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<p>He shook his head. “I did not. I am sure you will ask more about why as the questioning goes on, but for now, I’ll say that there are some intraclade politics that left a sour taste in my mouth about the whole thing.”</p>
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<p>“If you’re ever uncomfortable with a question, feel free to tell me you’d not like to answer, too. I forgot to mention that at the beginning.”</p>
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<p>“If you’re ever uncomfortable with a question, feel free to tell me you’d not like to answer.”</p>
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<p>End Waking nodded.</p>
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<p>“Were you involved in Launch at all? Was that part of the politics?”</p>
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<p>“Ioan, I was promised a shit-sandwich, but so far it is an open-faced one,” he said, laughing to take the sting out of the words. “I did not. And, to preempt your next question, I had not yet been forked during Secession, so I did not take part in that, either. I was forked a few decades after Secession.”</p>
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<p>“It was largely a matter of politicking. Strings to pull, ears to whisper into, suggestions made on both the governmental and DDR level. We played them like a finely-tuned instrument, the Odists and the Jonas clade. I would have long, serious talks with politicians; longer, more fun fun talks with DDR junkies, bless their stupid, stupid hearts. I coordinated with others to help influence sentiment here sys-side, encouraging people to write home and suggest to their families that they consider all of this in a way that aligned with our goals.”</p>
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<p>“What were your goals?”</p>
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<p>The skunk finished his tea and spent a moment fishing all of the leaves and berries from the bottom of his mug to the rim so that he could eat them, as promised. It meant a moment of downtime, during which Ioan sipped eir own tea.</p>
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<p>Sitting back and curling his tail absent-mindedly into his lap to brush it free of leaves and twigs, End Naming said, “Short term, to the lower the cost of uploading and make it seem ever more appealing. Middle-term, the goal was to pass the legislation that led to several governments paying families when an individual uploaded. It started as a sort of subsidy for the lost income, and I think some locales still think of it that way, but it quickly turned into an incentive. Did you have any siblings, Ioan?”</p>
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<p>Sitting back and curling his tail absentmindedly into his lap to brush it free of leaves and twigs, End Waking said, “Short term, to the lower the cost of uploading and make it seem ever more appealing. Middle-term, the goal was to pass the legislation that led to several governments paying families when an individual uploaded. It started as a sort of subsidy for the lost income, and I think some locales still think of it that way, but it quickly turned into an incentive. Did you have any siblings, Ioan?”</p>
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<p>Ey nodded.</p>
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<p>“And were you the eldest?”</p>
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<p>Ey frowned, nodded again.</p>
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<p>“We planted an idea, a subtle one, in many phys-side that it might be a good idea for the eldest child to upload and use the payout to fund a better life for the other children.”</p>
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<p>“We planted an idea, a subtle one, that it might be a good idea for the eldest child to upload and use the payout to fund a better life for the other children.”</p>
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<p>“I never heard anyone–“</p>
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<p>“This is what I mean by subtle. It was not something anyone really talked about. It was simply a convention that formed over time, and for everyone who followed it, the idea seemed to come to them of their own accord.”</p>
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<p>“But it didn’t. It came from you.”</p>
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<p>The skunk winced. “Yes, it came from me.”</p>
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<p>Ioan sighed and, seeing nowhere else to put it, set eir mug on the floor by the bed.</p>
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<p>“I feel compelled to repeat that I am not at all proud of what I did. This–” He gestured around. “This is my penance. I live my life in solitude in a place that does not know money, does not know the subtle machinations of politics, and should either of those enter, would not care one bit about them. People think of forests as fragile areas of land, and while this is true, they are also giant — truly enormous — singular entities that do not give a single, solitary fuck about you and your schemes, your thoughts, or your emotions. I have stumbled into ravines. I have had dead branches fall on me. I have broken my arm. I have bled on the land. I have learned the hard way which plants are safe to eat.” There was a long pause before he continued, “I hesitate to say that the forest hates me, but it comes perilously close. This is my penance.”</p>
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<p>“I feel compelled to repeat that I am not at all proud of what I did. This–” He gestured around. “This is my penance. I live my life in solitude in a place that does not know money, does not know the subtle machinations of politics, and should either of those enter, would not care one bit about them. People think of forests as fragile areas of land, and while this is true, they are also giant — truly enormous — singular entities that do not give a single, solitary fuck about you and your schemes, your thoughts, or your emotions. I have stumbled into ravines. I have had dead branches fall on me. I have gotten caught in land-slides, mud-slides, and flash-floods. I have bled on the land. I have learned the hard way which plants are safe to eat.” There was a long pause before he continued, “I hesitate to say that the forest hates me, but it comes perilously close. This is my penance.”</p>
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<p>They sat in silence for several long minutes while Ioan digested this and End Waking did whatever it was that the penitent architect of eir entire existence here on the System did. Repent, perhaps, but what did that mean in the face of such enormity?</p>
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<p>“Let’s walk,” Ioan finally said.</p>
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<p>End Waking visibly brightened and nodded. There was a small unwinding of the previous ritual, where the fire within the stove was banked, the mugs rinsed clean and replaced in their spot, and his cloak donned once more.</p>
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@ -100,7 +100,7 @@ what gifts we give we give in death,<br />
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what lives we lead we lead in memory,<br />
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and the end of memory lies beneath the roots.</p>
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</blockquote>
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<p>End Waking nodded. His said, almost <em>sotto voce,</em> “I sometimes…no, I often think that I belong to the wrong stanza. This is where I belong. I like her plenty and do not begrudge her the name that she owns, but I wish, sometimes, that I were And The End Of Memory Lies Beneath The Roots.”</p>
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<p>End Waking nodded. He murmured, “I sometimes…no, I often think that I belong to the wrong stanza. This is where I belong. I like her plenty and do not begrudge her the name that she owns, but I wish, sometimes, that I were And The End Of Memory Lies Beneath The Roots.”</p>
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<p>Ioan looked around at the trees, the ferns, the carpets of periwinkle and spots of mint and horsepepper and balm, the epiphytes climbing trunks, the moss on stumps.</p>
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<p>“I do not think that the author of the Ode meant literally,” the skunk said, laughing. “But you share my views on it. While it is not strictly possible on the System, I do hope that one day, the end of memory, that memory of all that I did, lies dead beneath the roots.”</p>
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<p>A few minutes of silent walking followed as Ioan was guided through a section of, yes, thick roots that threatened to entangle eir feet.</p>
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@ -127,7 +127,7 @@ and the end of memory lies beneath the roots.</p>
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<p>Rather than answering, End Waking took Ioan by the elbow and guided em back to the trail. “Let us get you back so that the berries are still fresh for May Then My Name.”</p>
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</article>
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<footer>
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<p>Page generated on 2021-10-17</p>
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<p>Page generated on 2021-10-21</p>
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</footer>
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</main>
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