Edits, finished majority of Idumea

idumea/content/002.tex

@@ -10,9 +10,9 @@ She stood before the mirror and preened for a moment, adjusting the way her shir
 
 The trip to the city was as it ever was. She said to herself a little prayer and opened the door to her closet. Taking a deep breath, she stepped through, and as she did so, she brushed her fingertips against the jamb as ever, and today it felt right enough that she stepped lively out onto the city streets, out where the leaves skittered anxiously around her footpaws in the faint February breeze.
 
-Stuffing her paws into her pockets, she made her way down the street, where her entrance was located, to the main drag. The city was on the small end --- more large town than full on city --- and so it was still the type of place to have a main drag, a street built for cars that it does not actually have, with wide sidewalks paved in brick and a trolley that ran down the middle.
+Stuffing her paws into her pockets, she made her way down the street, where her entrance was located, to the main drag. The city was on the small end—more large town than full on city—and so it was still the type of place to have a main drag, a street built for cars that it does not actually have, with wide sidewalks paved in brick and a trolley that ran down the middle.
 
-The Woman waited for the next trolley car to come and stepped aboard, tucking her tail down and around her leg as she held onto one of the railings --- she never sat, and never could tell you why --- to ride it for three stops. This was part of the ritual. Even when the car was busy and she was not feeling so good, there was a part of her that was happy that she got to stand on this trolley and hold onto this railing and feel this rattle-buzz of the wheels rolling along the track through her feet or paws. It was not even particularly pleasant for her, I think, but it \emph{was} fulfilling.
+The Woman waited for the next trolley car to come and stepped aboard, tucking her tail down and around her leg as she held onto one of the railings—she never sat, and never could tell you why—to ride it for three stops. This was part of the ritual. Even when the car was busy and she was not feeling so good, there was a part of her that was happy that she got to stand on this trolley and hold onto this railing and feel this rattle-buzz of the wheels rolling along the track through her feet or paws. It was not even particularly pleasant for her, I think, but it \emph{was} fulfilling.
 
 She made it her three stops and stepped easily from the trolley to find herself before her usual coffee shop. There was so much comfort in routine sometimes. Not all routines are rituals, after all, sometimes there was just a coffee shop that you really like because it makes good mochas and always gives you extra whipped cream without being asked.
 
@@ -22,7 +22,7 @@ Once The Woman had her mocha with extra whip, once she had one of her usual tabl
 
 \secdiv
 
-The Woman loved a good mocha --- even I love a good mocha! --- and so she was plenty happy to go to the coffee shop every now and then to pick one up, to sit by the window and watch and listen to the world go by, but this was not why she is here today. This was her errand.
+The Woman loved a good mocha—even I love a good mocha!—and so she was plenty happy to go to the coffee shop every now and then to pick one up, to sit by the window and watch and listen to the world go by, but this was not why she is here today. This was her errand.
 
 That day, The Woman was here because Her Friend had asked to meet up.
 
@@ -32,7 +32,7 @@ Her Friend was always so stable, always so ready to speak and so ready to listen
 
 That had been in the context of learning more about The Woman and her stanza, though. It had been in the context of trying to understand what made the tenth stanza the tenth stanza. There had been an offer of help, but a very gentle one. The Woman had been the one to accept that offer, but more than that, Her Friend really did just want to learn, rather than teach, to listen rather than talk.
 
-Her Friend really did just want a friend, too, for the seventh stanza were all friends with each other, she was promised, and yet they had their own struggles. In Dreams was, she was ever promised, eager to help, eager to teach and to learn and to listen and to talk. There was advice to be given and the knowledge of psychology gleaned over however many hundreds of years now on offer --- was it really nearly 300? There was--
+Her Friend really did just want a friend, too, for the seventh stanza were all friends with each other, she was promised, and yet they had their own struggles. In Dreams was, she was ever promised, eager to help, eager to teach and to learn and to listen and to talk. There was advice to be given and the knowledge of psychology gleaned over however many hundreds of years now on offer—was it really nearly 300? There was--
 
 ``End Of Endings?''
 
@@ -78,7 +78,7 @@ It had not been all of them for sixty years, though. Not since Death Itself had
 
 Fifty-eight years since the last meal they had all shared together.
 
-Even so, The Woman --- her and her whole stanza --- insisted for years that it was all of them who ate together, when the remainder of the tenth ate together. \emph{All} of them, all together. They insisted on that, friends, just as they insisted on leaving two empty chairs at the table, two plates of food set before them.
+Even so, The Woman—her and her whole stanza—insisted for years that it was all of them who ate together, when the remainder of the tenth ate together. \emph{All} of them, all together. They insisted on that, friends, just as they insisted on leaving two empty chairs at the table, two plates of food set before them.
 
 With a deliberate motion of sharp-clawed paws, The Woman drew a definitive line across the table, defining an arc around her. With this, she blocked the topic off, reflected the thoughts of loss and trauma away from herself, out somewhere else. It was a practiced motion, smooth and careful, and one that Her Friend knew well.
 
@@ -86,15 +86,15 @@ Ey nodded, understanding, and continued. ``The reasons we might not eat with eac
 
 ``Is that what happened this time?''
 
-Her Friend hesitated. ``Yes,'' ey said carefully. ``I said something to In Dreams, I said that I was feeling unwell, that my stress had been high and that I was worried I might be overflowing --- or at least on the brink of such --- but also that I was feeling particularly rough about the Attack. I was feeling grief and loss.''
+Her Friend hesitated. ``Yes,'' ey said carefully. ``I said something to In Dreams, I said that I was feeling unwell, that my stress had been high and that I was worried I might be overflowing—or at least on the brink of such—but also that I was feeling particularly rough about the Attack. I was feeling grief and loss.''
 
 The Woman's breath caught in her throat.
 
-When I tell you that breath is important even sys-side, you must understand all of the different roles that it plays. We are built to breathe, you and I, and so is everyone else. We can turn that off, sure, but the vast majority of cladists find such uncomfortable. Not Breathing still feels like holding one's breath, yes? Even without the rising CO2 levels in our blood --- blood that we must only imagine that we have --- it is uncomfortable to feel like one is holding one's breath for too long.
+When I tell you that breath is important even sys-side, you must understand all of the different roles that it plays. We are built to breathe, you and I, and so is everyone else. We can turn that off, sure, but the vast majority of cladists find such uncomfortable. Not Breathing still feels like holding one's breath, yes? Even without the rising CO2 levels in our blood—blood that we must only imagine that we have—it is uncomfortable to feel like one is holding one's breath for too long.
 
 We use breath for speaking, and even though I am not speaking to you right now, I am still breathing. I still feel the warmth of my breath against my paw as it brushes across the page with each line of text. We use breath for gasping, for sighing, for even snoring!
 
-So when I tell you that The Woman's breath caught in her throat, you must imagine the way your breath might catch in your own throat when suddenly you hear something that causes a rising tide of emotions that takes precedence even over that, even over breathing. You must picture the way that you feel when, if you were to breathe, you fear there might be a whine of fear or a moan of terror --- or even pleasure, because we are no less susceptible to that.
+So when I tell you that The Woman's breath caught in her throat, you must imagine the way your breath might catch in your own throat when suddenly you hear something that causes a rising tide of emotions that takes precedence even over that, even over breathing. You must picture the way that you feel when, if you were to breathe, you fear there might be a whine of fear or a moan of terror—or even pleasure, because we are no less susceptible to that.
 
 And here, now, The Woman was feeling most of all grief. She feared that, were she to let her breath out, it would be that whine of fear, that moan of terror, a wave of tears.
 
@@ -114,11 +114,11 @@ She bowed. ``I would appreciate that, yes.''
 
 ``Is that what you wound up doing?''
 
-Ey shook eir head. ``I did not need that, my dear. I did not need to be told to go to therapy. I did not want to schedule an appointment.'' Ey finally took a sip of eir mocha, but this seemed to be less about the coffee than an opportunity to gather eir wits. ``I just wanted a friend, honestly. I just wanted a hug --- no, I understand, perhaps not your thing, but I must be earnest, yes? --- but instead, I got told to find a way to \emph{fix} this. Fix grief. Fix a very real pain.''
+Ey shook eir head. ``I did not need that, my dear. I did not need to be told to go to therapy. I did not want to schedule an appointment.'' Ey finally took a sip of eir mocha, but this seemed to be less about the coffee than an opportunity to gather eir wits. ``I just wanted a friend, honestly. I just wanted a hug—no, I understand, perhaps not your thing, but I must be earnest, yes?—but instead, I got told to find a way to \emph{fix} this. Fix grief. Fix a very real pain.''
 
 The Woman's features softened and, steeling herself for the touch, she reached across the table to pat the back of Her Friend's paw. ``I understand, No Hesitation. Would that I could offer more. I am happy to be a friend, though; I have no interest in telling you to go to therapy.''
 
-``Of course,'' ey said, smiling once more. ``I trust you of all people in that. I know that you have mentioned --- however kindly --- in the past that you have worried that I am simply providing you with therapy on the sly, but I trust that you know that is not the nature of our friendship.''
+``Of course,'' ey said, smiling once more. ``I trust you of all people in that. I know that you have mentioned—however kindly—in the past that you have worried that I am simply providing you with therapy on the sly, but I trust that you know that is not the nature of our friendship.''
 
 She nodded.
 
@@ -148,7 +148,7 @@ After a long few seconds, Her Friend tilted eir head. ``Yes?''
 
 Her Friend laughed, shaking eir head and leaning back with mocha in hand. ``This is what I needed, my dear. I needed to speak with a friend. I needed chat about memories and watching the way you smile when you talk even these sad things, not sitting on some therapist's couch for the third time in as many weeks.''
 
-The Woman preened. This, you see, is more than just a brushing out of imperfections, but a shift in attitude. When The Woman preened --- when her whole clade preened, even! --- she would sit up a little straighter with a subtle shimmy, lift her snout, close her eyes, bristle her whiskers, and smile a smile that was just south of smug. It is \emph{very} cute, reader, I can assure you of that.
+The Woman preened. This, you see, is more than just a brushing out of imperfections, but a shift in attitude. When The Woman preened—when her whole clade preened, even!—she would sit up a little straighter with a subtle shimmy, lift her snout, close her eyes, bristle her whiskers, and smile a smile that was just south of smug. It is \emph{very} cute, reader, I can assure you of that.
 
 They fell then into comfortable chatter over just the small things: the coffee, the weather, the chairs and how they were \emph{almost} comfortable, but not quite. They fell into warmth and companionship, and all the while, the woman set that fleeting thought she had had just off to the side, where she could keep track of it without it distracting.