update from sparkleup
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<p>Consequently, ey kept finding emself stumbling when presented with a pattern that fit one project and then failed to fit completely.</p>
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<p>At last, though, they had dotted all of the ‘i’s they could find and crossed all the ‘t’s that they could think of and gathered to begin the final preparations.</p>
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<p>The five of them trickled into the boardroom. They’d been told to dress ‘nice, but comfortable’, which didn’t change anything for True Name. Why Ask Questions had dressed in a matching outfit. Tycho had swapped out a plaid flannel shirt for a plain white one, but remained in his jeans. Sarah had opted for a blouse and slacks that fit well with her middle-aged, mid-career psychologist aesthetic.</p>
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<p>It left Codrin feeling somewhat overdressed for the occasion, but ey shook it off as best ey could. A few years prior, ey’d written a short paper on traditional clothing styles that had been ported into the System, many of which had seen a resurgence, up where cost was no longer a barrier. Ever since, when nicer dress was required, ey’d taken to dressing in various levels of traditional Romanian garb from the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. For this project, that meant an embroidered, wide-sleeved blouse and a simple, ankle-length wrap-around skirt, over which was layered a fotă, an over-skirt rather like an apron in rich, embroidered red, with a simpler panel of fabric hanging from the back.</p>
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<p>It left Codrin feeling somewhat overdressed for the occasion, but ey shook it off as best ey could. A few years prior, ey’d written a short paper on traditional clothing styles that had been ported into the System, many of which had seen a resurgence, up where cost was no longer a barrier. Ever since, when nicer dress was required, ey’d taken to dressing in various levels of traditional Romanian garb from the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. For this project, that meant an embroidered, wide-sleeved blouse and a simple, ankle-length wrap-around skirt, over which was layered a fotă, an over-skirt rather like an apron, in rich, embroidered red, with a simpler panel of fabric hanging from the back.</p>
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<p>Ey had even braided eir hair. Ah well.</p>
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<p>“Alright,” a Jonas said. He held a clipboard with a checklist he appeared to be reading from. “Greetings. True Name?”</p>
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<p>They proceeded down the line, each reciting their version of the Artemisian greeting while an instance of Answers Will Not Help judged and corrected them. Ey recited eir greeting when eir turn came, but only from the most automatic portion of emself remaining. The rest was spent thinking about how much ey’d miss eir partners. How much ey’d miss home. </p>
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<p>“I’m still not used to it, sorry.”</p>
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<p>Jonas waved away the comment. “You’re fine, Tycho. Not everyone is True Name.”</p>
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<p>Both instances of the skunk made a rude gesture at him.</p>
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<p>“Yeah, well, fuck you too.” He laughed. “Alright. The rest of the tasks will be specific to each group, so–” He forked, and the new instance continued, “–#Artemises, with me to Emissary Staging#553a49c. The rest to Artemis Staging#ad89ae3.”</p>
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<p>“Yeah, well, fuck you too.” He laughed. “Alright. The rest of the tasks will be specific to each group, so–” He forked, and the new instance continued, “–#Artemises, with me to Artemis Staging#553a49c. The rest to Castor Staging#ad89ae3.”</p>
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<p>Ey lingered for a few seconds and thought. One thing this project had that none of the others had had was the feeling of stepping away from home and leaving it behind completely. There would be no coming home for dinner after a day of interviewing or researching. There would be no returning to the tightly controlled chaos that had become the comfortable dynamic among eir little family. Ey stood, watching the others step away, including the other versions of emself, and soaked in the sensation of longing.</p>
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<p>When ey stepped through to the DMZ staging sim, ey was greeted by a nearly identical boardroom to the one ey had just left. There were, ey noted, far more whiteboards lining the walls, not to mention far more Odists and Jonases at work just beyond.</p>
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<p>“We have an hour,” Jonas said. “So let’s finalize our plans for information gathering.”</p>
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<p>Codrin was caught off guard at the lack of fanfare that their departure received. The Jonas who had been running the debriefing waved, and none of the others in the room did more than look over their shoulders as they were shunted over to the DMZ and ey was left blinking in the dappled sunlight of the meeting area.</p>
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</article>
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<footer>
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<p>Page generated on 2022-03-28</p>
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<p>Page generated on 2022-05-08</p>
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</footer>
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</main>
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