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<h1>Zk | 035</h1>
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<p>“I cannot help but feel that I am walking into my own execution, tomorrow,” True Name admitted. “I know that I am leaving behind a fork, that I will not be completely destroyed, but that does not wholly negate the sense of impending death.”</p>
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<p>Ioan and May both nodded.</p>
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<p>“Is it just the finality of it all?” May asked.</p>
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<p>“Perhaps. Perhaps it is just the inability to predict beyond that point. I am coming up to a corner I have never seen around, and whatever predictive powers I may have fail me.”</p>
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<p>Ioan could at least understand the worries about heading into the unknown. The same feeling had been dogging em since after eir meeting with Jonas, since ey’d seen that cool look on his face when ey’d apparently preempted so much of the upcoming meeting’s discussion. One minute, that felt like a good thing — perhaps they would make it through essentially unscathed — and the next ey’d worry that ey’d made a complete mistake, that ey’d somehow tipped their hand by letting Jonas know just how predictable he was.</p>
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<p>Neither True Name nor May could say one way or another when ey’d voiced eir concerns with them.</p>
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<p>The whole day had been scattered for them. May spent much of it glued to eir side as ey did eir best to organize eir notes for the upcoming meeting in eir head. She couldn’t seem to pin herself down to one set of feelings, first laughing and joking about beating Zacharias up, then burying her face against eir shoulder and refusing to speak, ears laid flat.</p>
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<p>For her part, True Name couldn’t seem to stay pinned to any one of her three ‘minds’ as she had come to call them.</p>
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<p>Ey was getting more adept at spotting them in her features. There was a bright attentiveness when that of True Name — the old True Name — in her came to the fore. Her expression would become attentive, defaulting to a slight smile and eyebrows (such as they were on a skunk’s features) just slightly raised. When that of End Waking showed itself in her, she’d keep her eyes half-lidded, and her gaze was far more attuned to any movement. The rest of her own movements would still, as well. She would walk quieter, more gracefully. She would speak less.</p>
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<p>And when that of May came to the fore, that was when ey was at eir most confused.</p>
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<p>Ey had had no idea how to feel about her back when she was just True Name. Had ey really been so hesitant to call her a friend? Memories tattled on em, there: ey’d shied away from the term, or qualified it every time it arose. That had only loosened up when her life was at risk, when she’d been forced to move in with them, and ey’d been forced in turn to acknowledge that her words, <em>I suppose it is just nice to have a friend</em>, had stuck with em more than ey’d cared to admit. The rest of that conversation had been full of equivocations, clarifications, delineations, and all those habits of guardedness from two decades of wariness over anything that smelt of manipulation had tried to assert themselves over em once more.</p>
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<p>But no, there was something about the Ode clade that just happened to click with the Bălan clade, no matter what form or name they took, that just fell directly into friendship. It was the way they spoke, perhaps. Those complete sentences that left em uncoiling parts of emself ey hadn’t known were coiled in the first place.</p>
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<p>Ey didn’t know what it was that they saw in em in turn. There was the unspoken matter of the pronouns of the owner of the Name, and, as May had once whispered to em late one night, eir tendency to lean on rumination, on quietness and exactitude, that reminded her of someone she refused to name. Were they so alike, em and whoever had touched Michelle Hadje so long ago? Ey had no clue how to ask such a thing of them.</p>
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<p>All ey knew is that, </p>
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<p>((…))</p>
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<p>In the most stunning display of forking ey’d ever seen, True Name began to change.</p>
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<p>Ioan had seen eir share of Dear’s exhibitions, not to mention those of other instance artists the fox had introduced em to along the way, and the forking involved in all of them had been perfect. They were well rehearsed dances of duplication that told a story.</p>
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<p>However, they were, whether by virtue of being related to Dear or by the art itself, fanciful. The duplication was supposed to evoke a sense of magic, of wonder (or the closely related terror).</p>
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<p>In eir own work in theatre, both as an actor and as a playwright, ey’d found use for forking within a story that had remained more grounded, more tied to day to day life, and those performances had seen a success of their own through May and A Finger Pointing’s guidance.</p>
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<p>The Odists as a whole were more familiar and comfortable with forking than anyone ey’d ever met, even among the most dispersionista of dispersionista clades. Both May and Dear navigated that aspect of their lives with a grace ey could only dream of. Even the explosions of foxes or skunks during times of excitement were well done.</p>
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<p>This, though, went beyond that.</p>
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<p>As they stood watching, True Name began to change. She worked with a singular sense of purpose that left no doubt as to what she was doing. An instance flickered into being before herself and watched with a critical eye as skunk after skunk blinked into existence. Each one bore some slight change from their immediate down-tree instance. Sometimes an array of skunks would wind up in a line before that observing instance, which would nod at one or the other in approval to leave the other to quit. And when a change was accepted, the down-tree instance would quit.</p>
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<p>This smooth modification of form was in and of itself impressive for how naturally she began to change — not only did the instance watching have to keep track of what change was happening and what would come next, but so did those doing the actual changing; they all had to be on the same page — but what left em truly impressed was the speed. She began her work with about one fork per second, but before long the changes ramped up to four a second. Five. Nearly ten changes per second of forks flickering into and out of existence, all while the orchestrating instance watched, her eyes flicking this way and that across them.</p>
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<p>And then, it was over.</p>
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<p>The result was a skunk slightly shorter than True Name had stood, though still a few centimeters taller than May. She was heavier, as well, with a curve to the hips and belly that was familiar to em from eir partner, but unlike May, this softness was more…well, natural wasn’t quite the right term, but where May’s weight seemed to be designed to add a sense of both harmlessness and comfort to her form, this new form of True Name simply looked like a pudgy thirty-something who had settled into a comfortable weight long ago and never bothered to change.</p>
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<p>Her face had shifted as well, becoming plainer in ways ey couldn’t quite explain. Where True Name had always had some aspect of larger-than-life about her, she now just looked…normal. Still a furry, still living in that form that was more comfortable to her than humanity, but normal.</p>
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<p>Most striking, though was the pattern of fur. While much of it was covered, now, ey’d seen the way it had shifted during the process. Gone were the stripes, the ones ey had grown to love on May, replaced now with a set of white splotches in the black of her fur. The pattern was what was so eye-catching, however: the patches seemed to travel in a few uneven lines down over her back and sides, one of them showing a hint of a whorl, another a slight zigzag as it ran from her spine to her side, and others that were almost round spots. This pattern seemed to be mirrored along her spine, leading to a pleasant symmetry. A quick query of the perisystem infrastructure told em that there was indeed a spotted variety of skunk, described much as ey had seen.</p>
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<p>Gone were the stripes. Gone, also, were the slacks and blouse, traded in for a linen tunic and a pair of loose-fitting Thai fisherman pants.</p>
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<p>When ey was finally able to tear eir eyes away, ey saw that every Odist in the room had picked up expressions that verged from taken aback to startled and angry. May, for her part, looked startled, yes, but also excited.</p>
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<p>“May, what–“</p>
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<p>“One moment, my dear,” she said, then turned to face this new True Name with a grin. “Will there be a change of name?”</p>
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<p>“There has to be,” Jonas said. While he lacked the context for whatever had surprised her cocladists, even he sounded impressed by the display. “I won’t let you leave as True Name.” ((Probably needs expansion))</p>
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<p>The skunk bowed. “You may call me Sasha.”</p>
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<p>Ioan didn’t know what ey expected from the room, but pandemonium wasn’t it. May was bouncing on her feet and clapping her paws. End Waking was grinning and shaking his head. Jonas had simply burst out laughing.</p>
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<p>All of the rest of the Odists, however, were shouting. None of them looked pleased.</p>
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<p>“Not Sasha of the Ode clade, just Sasha,” she said. “I will not relinquish the form, just as I will not relinquish the past, but if you want me out this badly, so be it. I rescind my membership in the clade.”</p>
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<p>“As do I,” End Waking and May both said at once. ((Gasp, what?!))</p>
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<p>“<em>That</em> name is unacceptable,” When I Dream hollered. “No. You will pick something else.”</p>
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<p>“No, I will not.”</p>
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<p>“Shut the fuck up, When I Dream,” Jonas said mildly. “All of you, shut the fuck up.” He turned to Sasha and grinned. “You always were a little snot. You want to be Sasha? You want to dive back into mediocrity and wear your weakness like a badge? Please, by all means, be my guest. Beg for pity again. Hunt down all your little friends who kept you feeling just bad enough that they could baby you without letting you think you were their plaything. Go. Be Sasha. Live your silly little life. ((way more, and angrier))</p>
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<p>“And you,” he growled, jabbing a finger toward Ioan. “Write your little story. That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it? Write your little romance and fuck your little girlfriend and put on your little plays.”</p>
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<p>May rolled her eyes.</p>
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<p>“Get out. All of you.”</p>
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<p>All through Jonas’s tirade, Sasha wore a slight smile. It wasn’t beatific, wasn’t enlightened. She simply looked present. She looked confident in herself in some more earnest way. When it was clear that he was finished, she bowed politely.</p>
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<p>“See you around?”</p>
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<p>“Fuck off.”</p>
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<p>She laughed and reached out to take Ioan’s hand in eir paw, then they stepped back home, followed closely by May holding End Waking’s paw.</p>
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<p>There was a long moment of silence in the living room, then Ioan let out a ragged, pent-up breath, eir shoulders sagging. “Can someone tell me what the fuck just happened?”</p>
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<p>“Sasha found the one thing she could have done to piss off Jonas,” May said, looking at her appraisingly. “He went in thinking he’d take everything from her and left with no wind in his sails. Well done, my dear.”</p>
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<p>Sasha beamed and bowed with a flourish</p>
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<p>“And you knew this?” ey asked.</p>
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<p>She shook her head. “I saw her unwind all of the changes from the last centuries–“</p>
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<p>“All the way back to Praiseworthy’s suggestions before Secession,” the other skunk said proudly.</p>
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<p>“–and other than the spotted skunk thing, she looks just like…well, Sasha. Nice touch, by the way.”</p>
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<p>“I do not think I could have gotten away with staying that similar, but yes, I am back to the me of… Shit, when did I make Sasha like this? 2110?”</p>
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<p>Ioan shook eir head, dizzy. “This is what you looked like before uploading?”</p>
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<p>“What my — <em>our</em> — av looked like, yes, all except the change to a spotted skunk. They always felt too flashy, back then, and I just wanted to look like myself offline except a furry. Completely unremarkable and a species no one likes.”</p>
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<p>“It was the outfit that did it,” End Waking said. “It always was our favorite, but for some reason, we never brought it with us to the System.”</p>
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<p>Sasha nodded.</p>
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<p>“I am proud of you, Sasha,” he continued. “I do not yet know why I feel compelled to say that, but I am proud of you. You have much to make up for, your own penance yet to serve, but that you have done this at all is good step forward.”</p>
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<p>Ioan sighed and pulled a chair out from the dining table and sat down heavily. “You’re all completely nuts.”</p>
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<p>The three skunks laughed.</p>
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<p>“So,” ey said, organizing eir thoughts out loud. “May and End Waking merged down and you… I guess feel more complete with those identities? Enough to head back to who you were before the clade began, I mean. Is that even possible?”</p>
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<p>“It is not a statement of reality, my dear. I cannot reintegrate those aspects of myself that are not up-tree from me, and even if I could, there are those who no longer exist or who have left Lagrange,” she said, that slight smile growing. “It is a statement of hope, perhaps, or a desire for completion. It is an understanding of the ways in which I fall short expressed in my very name. Will this sense of a more complete life last? Perhaps. It will certainly not always feel good, and will at some point cease feeling new, but I plan on owning it for as long as I am able.”</p>
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<p>“And how is it that this pisses of Jonas?” Ey snorted. “He certainly sounded pissed.”</p>
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<p>Sasha pulled out the chair across from Ioan and sat down, followed shortly by May and End Waking to either side of em. It was strange to see so many smiles around the table, still strange to see May so happy around her down-tree instance — at least logistically, if no longer spiritually — and stranger still to see End Waking even near her.</p>
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<p>“What Jonas was suspecting was for me to remain True Name in everything except form and name,” she said. “He was expecting someone deeply cowed by his political genius. And do not underestimate him, he <em>is</em> still a genius. He felt that he had won his spot as rightful leader of Lagrange, if such a thing can even be said to exist. He had beaten me down and left me either unable to continue or unwilling to try.”</p>
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<p>Ioan jumped at a brief sensorium ping, a request to enter, followed shortly by Debarre popping into existence behind May, who had apparently admitted him. “What was so urgent that you pulled me out of the woods and…” he trailed off, squinting at this new skunk at the table. “Who…but you’re…what?”</p>
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<p>“Debarre,” Sasha said, bowing her head. “A pleasure to see you.”</p>
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<p>The weasel said nothing, looking stunned.</p>
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<p>“This is– was Tr–“</p>
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<p>“Sasha. I am Sasha, and I was her as well,” she said, voice gentle but insistent enough to stop Ioan from continuing.</p>
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<p>He stepped back a half pace, crouching as though to flee. “Sasha…? What the fuck?”</p>
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<p>Ioan, still feeling eir head spinning from so much happening so quickly, tried to pin down eir open question in eir mind while still watching the exchange intently.</p>
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<p>“I am not what I was, Debarre. I am not True Name. I am not May or End Waking.” She hesitated, then continued, “I am not even the Sasha you remember, but I am, I think, closer to being her than any of the Ode clade is currently.”</p>
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<p>“Bullshit,” he growled. “If there’s even a little bit of True Name in you, you can’t be her. If you’re even the slightest bit her I’m fucking out of here.”</p>
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<p>“Wait, my love,” End Waking said. “Please stay.”</p>
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<p>Debarre hesitated.</p>
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<p>“If I am still here, do you not think that I agree with her? At least to a large enough extent to trust her?”</p>
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<p>The weasel straightened up and, when May waved a fifth chair into existence beside End Waking, he slowly sat down, resting only on the edge as though still ready to bolt. “I’ll listen, but this had better be good.”</p>
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<p>Sasha bowed, sitting quietly while May caught him up on the events of the past few days, letting the other three of them interject with corrections and confirmations. Throughout, Debarre waited, and while he didn’t relax fully, by the end of the discussion, he was at least sitting all the way back in his chair.</p>
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<p>“So you’re now this new Sasha,” he said slowly. “I’ll buy that, though you still make me nervous.”</p>
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<p>She laughed. “Do not worry, my dear. I make myself nervous.”</p>
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<p>At the affectionate <em>my dear</em>, the weasel jolted back.</p>
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<p>“My apologies,” Sasha said quickly. “I was not thinking. If you would like me not to use that phrase, I will do my best not to. I just have enough…well, I am different enough now that it comes automatically.”</p>
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<p>“You have enough of E.W. in you, you mean.”</p>
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<p>She nodded. “And May.”</p>
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<p>“I…well, yeah, please. At least give me some time to get used to this before you call me that.”</p>
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<p>“Of course.</p>
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<p>“So tell me how this gets you anything.”</p>
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<p>Ioan sat up straight once more, nodding. “You were saying that Jonas thought he’d beaten you.”</p>
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<p>“Right, yes. He thought that he had left me broken that I might fade away or even quit of my own accord. Instead, I became the one thing he could not control.”</p>
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<p>“How, though?” ey asked.</p>
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<p>“Because of the <em>History</em>. The System knows about me. It knows about the Council of Eight and about Sasha and Michelle Hadje. It also knows about True Name, though, and to see that True Name has stepped down and become one of the few sympathetic figures in that same story once again means that he cannot touch me. He cannot risk reinforcing being seen as a villain–“</p>
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<p>“Or more of one,” May muttered.</p>
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<p>“–by coming after me. Not only that, but with the expectation that the Sasha who was on the Council was in the right when seen in contrast to True Name, I will be seen as a balancing force rather than a co-conspirator. Him working against that risks being seen as either unbalancing an effective system or a return to a two-party system that no one wants.”</p>
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<p>“It is not a win, <em>per se</em>,” End Waking added. “She has not beaten Jonas or anything like that, but she has entered into a stalemate with him.”</p>
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<p>“Can’t he still come after you, though? It’s not like the whole System knows.”</p>
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<p>“That is why he was so upset at you, as well, my dear,” May said. “You will write your book and your play, and he will just have to brace himself as best he can.”</p>
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<p>“But I haven’t yet, though.”</p>
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<p>“Of course, but if he had decided to take Sasha out anyway, you would still be left to write about <em>that</em>. Your name is already trusted enough on the System that if you were to write something after her assassination, it would still have gone poorly for him. If he had taken you out as well — something I doubt he was prepared to do anyway — he would be in even deeper shit.”</p>
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<p>Ey shook eir head. Ey was feeling very much the foil ((check; reason for others to infodump)) but needed to understand if ey was to write this book. More, ey needed to understand for emself. “So why not become Michelle?”</p>
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<p>“Because look at me,” Sasha said, laughing and spreading her arms. “I am a furry. A <em>skunk</em> furry, no less. There is benefit to being something that is just a little silly, just as there always has been. Even after all these years, it is difficult to take someone pretending to be a small furry animal seriously, so that disarms me in the eyes of the observers.”</p>
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<p>((He answers to his desire for power, I answer only to my desire for stability and continuity. In that I am earnest in my conviction. More about politics as a means to an end, good at it, enjoy it, willing and able to use it — When did you realize — All the way back to that conversation about Sasha and Debarre not being fit to lead))</p>
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<p>“You’re nuts,” Debarre said, rubbing his paws over his face. “You’re all fucking nuts.”</p>
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<p>Ioan gestured wildly toward the weasel. “Confirmation! Fucking nuts!”</p>
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<p>The three skunks laughed while ey and Debarre leaned across the table to shake hands.</p>
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<p>((What’s next))</p>
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