Final pass on motes, Marsh anthology

motes-played/content/005.tex

@@ -37,9 +37,9 @@ There is a very important set of reasons for this:
 \item
   Your insistence on both appearing as and acting like a child on a System where such remains transgressive both by its very nature and relation to paraphilia as well as by the fact that there simply are no children sys-side.
 \item
-  The `family' dynamic that you live within inside the fifth stanza. Treating Time Is A Finger Pointing At Itself and Beholden To The Heat Of The Lamps as your `mothers', as your other cocladists as your siblings, is beyond a mere dalliance, but a tainting of reputations outside merely your own; it is a way of dragging others into a behavior that has a very real impact on how they—and, by extension, the rest of the clade—are perceived.
+  The `family' dynamic that you live within inside the fifth stanza. Treating Time Is A Finger Pointing At Itself and Beholden To The Heat Of The Lamps as your `mothers', as well as your other cocladists as your siblings, is beyond a mere dalliance, but a tainting of reputations outside merely your own; it is a way of dragging others into a behavior that has a very real impact on how they—and, by extension, the rest of the clade—are perceived.
 \item
-  The inclusion of the one who has named herself Sasha in not just the daily workings of Au Lieu Du Rêve but the social dealings of the fifth stanza. If I Am To Bathe In Dreams and I hold no jurisdiction over the fifth stanza, but we do hold control over our interactions with each other, and we have made our stance on the one who has named herself Sasha and how she has affected the reputation of the Ode clade abundantly clear.
+  The inclusion of the one who has named herself Sasha in not just the daily workings of Au Lieu Du Rêve but the social dealings of the fifth stanza. If I Am To Bathe In Dreams and I hold no jurisdiction over the fifth stanza, but we do hold control over our interactions with each other, and we have made our stance abundantly clear on the one who has named herself Sasha and how she has affected the reputation of the Ode clade.
 \item
   The involvement of I Remember The Rattle Of Dry Grass counter to my requests laid out for the entirety of my stanza. This goes beyond her disregard of the no-contact order and into her willing participation in the actions of the fifth stanza in general and engagement with you specifically: these no-contact orders are expected to be upheld by \emph{both} parties. Yes, this is complicated by the individual nature of a cladist, and yet the request has been made, and plainly. For a member of a stanza to so flagrantly disregard a request and for that to be enabled by the other party leaves me feeling personally slighted.
 \end{enumerate}
@@ -74,7 +74,7 @@ Instead, she stood up, committed the contents of the letter to an exocortex, a h
 
 But no, she should not do that, either. She should not do anything so childish. She should not do childish things. When she was a child, yes, she spoke like a child and thought like a child and reasoned like a child. She acted like a child when she was a child. \emph{Was.} She was not, was she? She was an adult, and when she had become an adult, it had come time to put an end to childish ways. She was no longer a child, she should not aim to remain or become a child, she was no longer a child, she was an adult, she should put away childish things, she was an adult, she no longer thought or reasoned like a child, she was an adult\ldots{}
 
-Her mind became a mire, a marsh, a crowded bog full of unpleasant smells and tangled reeds and matted rushes and wilting lilies and sickeningly green watercress and spiky sedge and\ldots{}
+Her mind became a mire, a marsh, a crowded bog full of unpleasant smells and tangled reeds and matted rushes and wilting flowers and sickeningly green ferns and twisting roots and\ldots{}
 
 Her muscles clenched and bunched and tensed and pulled her down into a ball so that her feet were flat on the ground and her butt hovered some inches above and her face was buried in her arms where they crossed over her knees and in her ears was the rushing of so much blood and her vision was black and red and full of phosphenes and all she felt was the pain of her skinned paws and bloodied nose echoed in repeating waves radiating throughout her body.
 
@@ -90,7 +90,7 @@ She watched her body slowly relax, watched her face screw up and the tears once
 
 \emph{Interesting,} she thought dispassionately. \emph{Yet I acted like a child when I was a child. I am an adult\ldots{}}
 
-Her sense of self lagged behind—an idea of a mote of a Motes tethered like a helium balloon—as Beholden carefully lifted her unsouled-yet-still-living body and hoisted her up to carry her from her studio—\emph{the lights, she left the lights on}—to her bedroom. A place of soft things. A soft mattress, a too-thick duvet, stuffed animals and yet more stuffed animals. \emph{I should put away childish things, I am\ldots{}}
+Her sense of self lagged behind—a hint of a mote of a Motes tethered to her body like a helium balloon on a string—as Beholden carefully lifted her unsouled-yet-still-living body and hoisted her up to carry her from her studio—\emph{the lights, she left the lights on}—to her bedroom. A place of soft things. A soft mattress, a too-thick duvet, stuffed animals and yet more stuffed animals. \emph{I should put away childish things, I am\ldots{}}
 
 Beholden set her on her feet and carefully lifted her muzzle to face her. ``Motes, I know that you are overflowing, but can you fork for me, kiddo? Your nose is swollen and your paws look awful.''