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update from sparkleup

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Madison Scott-Clary 2024-01-22 20:40:09 -08:00
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writing/post-self/motes/007b.html
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<p>&ldquo;Protect our own,&rdquo; came the immediate answer. &ldquo;Protect ourselves. Protect our Dot.&rdquo;</p>
<p>And so they did. They circled around each other, brought Dry Grass into the fold as officially as they saw fit, providing her with a house. They set up a gentle watch on Motes, set up alerts throughout the house for when her door opened from the inside, for when the bar or kitchen were entered by her. They sought out Slow Hours for a meeting seeking her premonitions, such as they were. They sought out Sasha for a meeting to confirm that there were no existential threats. They sought out Waking World for a meeting to get a better sense of Hammered Silver&rsquo;s intentions.</p>
<p>All the while, Beholden did her best to remain calm, or to at least tamp down expressions of overwhelming emotions. There were walks. Many walks. Many excuses to step away to the auditorium or to get fresh air or stretch her legs.</p>
<p>She went always alone on her walks, pacing out along the deer trails or walking the loop of the neighborhood time and again, poking her way among the seats and catwalks of the auditorium.
(( A walk with Dry Grass to calm down the next morning after their meeting ))</p>
<p>She went always alone on her walks, pacing out along the deer trails or walking the loop of the neighborhood time and again, poking her way among the seats and catwalks of the auditorium.</p>
<p>Or tried to go alone, as always there was someone willing to go with her, asking gently if she needed company, even if that company was silent, or if she needed instead to talk. Slow Hours volunteered. Unbidden volunteered. A Finger Pointing, having spent so many years, so many decades with her, did not volunteer, but did look after her with a mix of worry and understanding in her face.</p>
<p>The only time she accepted the company was when Dry Grass did not so much volunteer as, wiping freshly-shed tears from her face, ask Beholden if they could go for a walk together so that she could talk. That Beholden had already slipped on her hoodie, had already drank a glass of water, was already heading towards the door suggested that this was a form of volunteering, but Dry Grass did certainly deserve the chance to talk through the position she had found herself in.</p>
<p>(( A walk with Dry Grass to calm down the next morning after their meeting ))</p>
<p>(( Confusion and coming to terms with Motes in the family ))</p>
<p>(( Caring for A Finger Pointing ))<br />
(((( Pointillist sighs wistfully. &ldquo;She has recorded me doing all sorts of things in my day-to-day as well. There is a recording of my heartfelt laughter turning to dire sobbing after a really rough day. She chopped it into little slivers of half-recognizable samples and haunted an entire album with it like the world&rsquo;s longest &ldquo;Chihuahua or Muffin&rdquo; slideshow.&rdquo; ))))</p>