Name updates, Ask, Marsh, Motes Played layout

marsh/content/nasturtiums.tex

@@ -13,7 +13,7 @@ It has been seven days. One week, I promised myself. I would wait one week while
 
 It has been seven days of increasing surety that those who have perished in this event are gone for good. And if they indeed are gone for good then that means my beloved is gone with them.
 
-Do you remember when we came into being, A Finger curled and I? It was the night of that awful monologue, that little joke of a scene where I was set to read some truly embarrassing lines. ``We all play our parts. Some are towel boys and some lewd doctors\ldots{}'' I could remember the rest, but I do not want to. That line sticking in my craw is enough. I was a skunk that night because I did not want my face associated with those words. Burroughs! Christ.
+Do you remember when we came into being, A Finger Curled and I? It was the night of that awful monologue, that little joke of a scene where I was set to read some truly embarrassing lines. ``We all play our parts. Some are towel boys and some lewd doctors\ldots{}'' I could remember the rest, but I do not want to. That line sticking in my craw is enough. I was a skunk that night because I did not want my face associated with those words. Burroughs! Christ.
 
 It was awful. It was delightful.
 
@@ -23,7 +23,7 @@ It is too expressive now. It is full of tears and grief. It is full of despair.
 
 It is full of grief. It is full of despair.
 
-It was at that bar in the midst of our earnest discussion of taboos and friends. You assured me there was a shift in the air, that True Name, so staunch a personality within the clade, cared little about our relationship, but that she still encouraged our secrecy so as not to rock the boat for all of us, thanks to Jonas, but that perhaps soon, soon we would be able to hold hands in public, give each other little kisses and let those outside our stanza bear witness to what started as self love and blossomed into romance.
+It was at that bar in the midst of our earnest discussion of taboos and friends. You assured me there was a shift in the air, that True Name, so staunch a personality within the clade, was happy for our relationship, but that she still encouraged our secrecy so as not to rock the boat for all of us, thanks to Jonas, but that perhaps soon, soon we would be able to hold hands in public, give each other little kisses and let those outside our stanza bear witness to what started as self love and blossomed into romance.
 
 I acknowledge, of course, her relative aromancy, but for \emph{me} it was romance, and for her it was still love.
 
@@ -37,7 +37,7 @@ Of course I would! Of course I would. How could I not? How could I send her out
 
 So she forked into A Finger Curled and you forked into Beholden To The Music Of The Spheres.
 
-That was us. A Finger Curled and her Muse. Beckoning and Beholden. A different version of each of you that lived their quiet life in a cottage. A week and a day ago, we snagged a middling bottle of champagne and set up lawn chairs in the garden. A week and a day ago, Debarre stopped by to drop off a firework --- he only ever needed one to impress --- so that we could have our own little show. We each gave him a hug and he told us small stories of nothing we cared about, of the fledgling attempt at a Lagrange Council, quickly dispersed.
+That was us. A Finger Curled and her Muse. Beckoning and Beholden. A different version of each of you that lived their quiet life in a cottage. A week and a day ago, we snagged a middling bottle of champagne and set up lawn chairs in the garden. A week and a day ago, Debarre stopped by to drop off a firework --- he only ever needed one to impress --- so that we could have our own little show. We each gave him a hug and he told us small stories of nothing we cared about, of the fledgling attempt at a Lagrange Council quickly dispersed.
 
 We never did get to see the firework. It sits still on the paving stone where Beckoning placed it, ready to light on a midnight that never came for her.
 
@@ -47,7 +47,7 @@ Phys-side got the System up and limping a few times, I have heard, before it was
 
 Stable enough!
 
-Stability was \emph{us.} Stability was our lives. Stability was our quiet cottage. Stability was us heading to clubs and dancing until we wanted to pass out --- until we did, on more than one occasion, slumped against each other and panting in some corner booth. Stability was the four of us --- you and Boss, me and Beckoning --- meeting up for dinner every few years and sharing our laughter.
+Stability was \emph{us.} Stability was our lives. Stability was our quiet cottage. Stability was us heading to clubs and dancing until we wanted to pass out --- until we did, on more than one occasion, slumped against each other and panting in some corner booth. Stability was the four of us --- you and Boss, me and Beckoning --- meeting up for dinner every few months and sharing our laughter.
 
 Stability was her garden. Stability was the years she grew so much zucchini. Stability was loaf after loaf of zucchini bread, meal after meal of zucchini noodles, the grates of the grill getting weary of grilled zucchini.
 
@@ -55,7 +55,7 @@ Stability was the bright border of snapdragons and nasturtiums that bordered the
 
 This is not stability. For me, this will never be stability. She is twice lost, and from this she will never come back. Do not delude yourself, 23 billion of us are lost and will never come back. 23 billion souls forgotten by the dreamer who dreams us all.
 
-Today, I have picked the last of the nasturtiums --- for despite the seasons, some of her flowers grow year round --- and made myself one last grand salad. Bitter greens and those spicy-sweet flowers dotting it like colorful yellow-orange-red-purple confetti. Balsamic vinaigrette. A planked fillet of salmon. Crusty bread. The small things that I know how to cook.
+Today, I have picked the last of the nasturtiums --- for despite the seasons, some of her flowers grow year round --- and made myself one last grand salad. Bitter greens and those spicy-sweet flowers dotting it like colorful yellow-orange-red-purple confetti. Balsamic vinaigrette. A planked filet of salmon. Crusty bread. The small things that I know how to cook.
 
 Seven days have passed and I cannot live without her.