update from sparkleup
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<p>When asked where he got the spices, barley, and tack in a forest, the skunk had laughed, shaken his head, and said, “I am not a fucking ascetic, Ioan,” then gone back to cooking.</p>
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<p>So, rustic stew it was.</p>
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<p>Very, <em>very</em> good rustic stew. End Waking had explained that, as he had no way to store leftovers, they would need to finish the entire pot that night. It turned out to be no stretch for the small gathering — Ioan and May, Debarre, Time Is A Finger Pointing At Itself, Douglas, and End Waking himself — as they all went back for seconds. The ranger skunk even swirled in a little extra water once the pot was empty, using a fingerpad to wipe what stew remained down into that to make himself a thin soup to finish out of the battered mug he’d been using as a bowl for the night.</p>
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<p>End Waking and Debarre’s on-again-off-again relationship seemed to be back on the rise, and so the skunk and weasel shared a seat on the log, tails draped across each other. So stoic was the Odist, though, that, while this was the only visible sign of affection between the two, it came off far sweeter than Ioan would have otherwise expected, especially given May’s constant touch in their own relationship.</p>
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<p>They’d each brought their own contribution for the night, as well. After dinner, A finger Pointing pulled out a bottle of over-proof white whiskey that they passed around the circle, taking burning sips. Ioan and May brought with them a short, two-person play that they put on for the other three, full of crude jokes and self-deprecating humor. Douglas, having picked up music as a hobby since uploading, performed a trio with three instances, one on flute, one on a mandolin, and one on a cajón.</p>
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<p>For his part, Debarre had brought fireworks. Or <em>a</em> firework, at least. The weasel removed a double fist-sized sphere of <em>papier mache</em>, and set it atop a small cylinder right next to the fire. With End Waking watching, hawklike, he directed everyone to stand back a few feet and lit the fuse with a small punk from the fire, explaining, “I’ve been working on this for the last seventy years or so. It’s only about fifty percent possible outside the System, but my excuse is that I never saw fireworks out there so I can do whatever the fuck I want.”</p>
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<p>The firework lifted off the cylinder it had been set on top of with surprising grace. Rather than rocketing into the air, it rose slowly, splitting in half a few inches and rising in a tight helix, the weasel explaining that the propellant was tightly controlled to allow such, until it was hovering about eight feet above the fire on a column of sparks as orange as those of the fire itself. From there, small balls of cool-blue sparks popped free and danced in slow whorls. Finally, in a fountain green fire, billowing into the shape of a tree, it fell back into the campfire with a hissing sigh to be consumed by the flames.</p>
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<p>“Outclassed,” A Finger Pointing grumbled. “You said ‘bring something’, my dear, so I brought a bottle to drink, and you all bring plays and music.”</p>
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<p>“Outclassed,” A Finger Pointing grumbled. “You said ‘bring something’, my dear, so I brought a bottle to drink, and you all bring plays and music and fireworks.”</p>
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<p>“You will hear no complaints from me,” End Waking said, grinning toothily. “Do you know how long it has been since I have had whiskey?”</p>
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<p>She laughed and shook her head. “I will bring you a case next time.”</p>
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<p>The skunk shook his head. “I am enjoying the ability to taste something again after missing it for years without. It makes it special.”</p>
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<p>“Sap.”</p>
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<p>He rolled his eyes and flipped her off.</p>
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<p>He rolled his eyes and made a rude gesture at her.</p>
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<p>The other Odist fit neatly into the pattern of a human Michelle, though over the centuries, she had opted for a form that was a little taller, a little slimmer, and bore more heavily styled hair. More chic, perhaps. She was prone to grand gestures and grand outfits in all black or all gray or all red. She had also leaned into hedonism more so than any of the other Odists Ioan had met. She ate heartily, drank more than all of them — though this mostly manifested as a ruddy glint to her cheeks and a more wicked grin than usual — and brought with her a very comfortable-looking camp chair.</p>
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<p>Even having worked with her for nearly a decade as a playwright and under her direction as an actor, ey continually found emself surprised by her simple desire to enjoy life, put on good plays, and be friends with everyone she could. It was a simplicity that was lacking from so many of her cocladists that ey’d had a chance to meet.</p>
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<p>“Do you wish that you had the chance to meet them?” End Waking said, once the fire had been stoked back up to stave off the deepening darkness.</p>
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<p>“The Artemisians?” A Finger Pointing asked.</p>
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<p>He nodded.</p>
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<p>“Kind of, yeah. I was pleased to hear that bit about how important they find stories, so I would like the chance to hear some directly from them and see what they think of ours.”</p>
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<p>“Do you wish that you had the chance to meet them?” End Waking said, once the fire had been stoked back up to stave off the deepening darkness. End Waking and Debarre’s on-again-off-again relationship seemed to be back on the rise, and so the skunk and weasel shared a seat on the log, tails draped across each other. So stoic was the Odist, though, that while this was the only visible sign of affection between the two, it came off far sweeter than Ioan would have otherwise expected, especially given his cocladist’s constant touch in their own relationship.</p>
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<p>“The Artemisians?” Debarre shrugged. “I’ve never been a huge fan of sci-fi. I suppose it’d be neat, but it feels really out there. I mean, I’m obviously excited, and I’d love to meet them, but it all sounds more like a fantasy than anything, so I’m not too put out.”</p>
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<p>He nodded, shifted his gaze to A Finger Pointing.</p>
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<p>“Kind of, yeah,” She said. “I was pleased to hear that bit about how important they find stories, so I would like the chance to hear some directly from them and see what they think of ours.”</p>
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<p>“And you, Ioan?” he asked, continuing around the circle.</p>
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<p>Ey shrugged after a moment’s thought. “I’m lucky. I get to share all the good stuff with you all direct from a cocladist. I wouldn’t turn down the chance to meet them, but I’m also happy with this.”</p>
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<p>“Why?”</p>
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@ -48,7 +47,7 @@
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<p>Ey laughed and nodded. “Pretty much, yeah.”</p>
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<p>“How about you, May Then My Name?” End Waking asked.</p>
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<p>“A part of me wishes I had the chance, but it is a small part. The rest of me is smug in my decision to remain behind preventing me from doing so. I cannot change that decision and go meet them, and that in and of itself is exciting, is it not?”</p>
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<p>The other skunk nodded and turned his gaze on Douglas.</p>
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<p>The other skunk turned his gaze on Douglas.</p>
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<p>“I think I’m probably the outlier here, in that I was — or am — kind of crushed by the fact that I won’t be able to meet them.” He poked a stick he’d found at the base of the fire. “Here I am, someone who spent eight years in university studying spaceflight, someone who did all he could to specialize in the System, and I’m stuck reading second-hand accounts on a five thousand year old civilization flying through space on a system of their own. I got over my frustration at having not uploaded in time for the launches years ago, but this is bringing it all back.”</p>
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<p>“What would you do, had you the chance to meet them?” End Waking asked.</p>
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<p>“Oh, I don’t know. That’s the thing. I don’t have anything concrete in mind that I feel like I’m missing, it’s just this envy over not having the chance. I’m sure I’d ask them a million questions about spaceflight and System shit, because that’s just how I am. I want to know how they keep their vehicle in working order over so long a time. I want to know how they can receive images and sounds and video instead of just text. I want to know all sorts of things, but that’s ancillary to the fact that I’m just not there.”</p>
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