Bumpnumbers

content/read/012.md

@@ -1,169 +1,203 @@
-# Yared Zerezghi --- 2124
+# Ioan Bălan - 2325
 
-> The discussion of speciation continues, I see.
->
-> And you know what? You all begin to convince me of this fact. If you have been following the System feeds, you will have doubtless seen the ways in which the System differs from life phys-side in levels so completely fundamental that they strain the imagination. We (by virtue of the fact that you are even reading this) have all used the 'net. To greater or lesser extents, we have all felt the ways in which it is different than 'real life'. I myself have often found the ways in which tactility differs here from out in the world: there is touch, yes, and there is something akin to the sensation of hot and cold (thermoception, the dictionary tells me), and it obviously could not function without a fairly accurate simulacrum of proprioception. If you don't know where you end and the rest of the sim begins, it is nigh useless as a shared space.
->
-> But touch? Touch is subtly different in so many ways. I remarked on this to a friend who is far, far more into the tech side than I am, and he immediately mentioned that he had felt similar. The reason, he explained, is that no matter how hard the implants try, they can only approximate the sensation of touch. Hearing? Fine. We have decoded the phenomenon of sound well enough that we are able to toss that sense in there just fine. Smell? Well, that's a bit more difficult, as I've read that there is some funny quantum aspects to that sensation. In the end, however, it is just a matter of simulating chemical interactions well enough.
->
-> Touch is so inexact, though. For each person it is different, and for each location on the body, the reaction is different. If you touch me on the shoulder, I might turn around to look at you. If you stick your finger in my ear (please don't) I will likely react much more violently. However, if *I* stick my finger in my ear, it elicits no such reaction, and can even feel pleasant.
->
-> Those in the System talk of such varied experiences, but when I brought this up over the chat-line with some friends that I've made over there (I've been asked to withhold their names), they seemed more confused than anything, and had me try in several ways to describe this difference in touch, the way I sometimes fail to sense a touch, or the way I sometimes feel a strong, sudden pressure (for who has not accidentally stubbed a toe?) with about the same level of intensity of brushing my fingers over a surface.
->
-> They said that there is no such issue within there. The dreaming brain is far more capable of coming up with the sensation of touch than the limited version we find in our implants.
->
-> An example: One of these friends is a furry, which means that her form (what we might think of as an avatar) comes with all the accoutrements that that entails. She has fur, whiskers, and a tail. Those may come with some expanded sensations via implants, but in there, in the dream, her body knows how they work. She can wag her tail (if that's a thing that her species does, I don't know the specifics), can feel the ways in which the teeth of a comb move through her fur, can lick her chops, and has even told me that she enjoys having her ears petted. None of these, she told me, were things that she found possible via the 'net.
->
-> This is a complete and total fundamental difference between us phys-side and those who live sys-side.
->
-> And what a small one, too! Consider the larger ones:
->
-> * *Forking:* Those who upload can create copies of themselves. Complete and total copies that live and experience completely separate lives. Not only that, but when a fork wants (*if* a fork wants!) it can merge back with the original copy or persona or whatever you want to call it, and then that persona has the memories of *both* copies. This beggars the imagination: we simply have no way to *actually* understand this, bound as we are by those pesky laws of physics.
-> * *Reputation markets:* Well, I say we're bound by the laws of physics, but on a subtler level, they are as well. The System only has so much capacity (though it is growing every few months), so in order to limit this potentially boundless expansion, there needs to be some factor which places limits on them, whether it's strictly for keeping bad actors at bay or simply to conserve space for new arrivals.
->
->   But of what use is money to them? They don't *need* to eat. They don't *need* to pay for travel. There is nothing for them to buy except this capacity to create, which means there is no money changing hands. Instead, they have decided on a currency of reputation. The more you do and interact and contribute, whether it is from being on the Council of Eight or simply having a really good conversation with a friend, you accrue reputation, and it is through this mechanism that one pays for expansion. Create more? Interact more? Gain the *ability* to create more, the *ability* to interact more.
-> * *Creative potential:* This is what happens when you combine the first point with the second. Say you are a mathematician. It can be frustrating to work on a complex problem one step at a time, and managing a team comes with its own problems. What if you had more brain power to throw at the problem, and that brain power had *exactly the same knowledge* going into it? Obviously, there are plenty more situations that require collaboration with other unique individuals, but this alone makes it worthwhile. Already, there have been great contributions to the fields of math, theoretical physics, literature, and sociology/psychology. Hell, some of these are already being used to earn money which is being put to use in the day-to-day demands of the System. For them, though, this is the basis of an economy that cherishes such pursuits. Already, we are seeing more individuals in those fields uploading than any other.
->
-> When I think about all of these facts, I have to admit, I think that you may be right on the question of speciation. It is not just that we cannot interbreed with them, for that is a question of biology, and one party lacks that aspect. It is not just that they are not of human stock, for that is demonstrably not the case. But it does come down to a complete and fundamental change in the very fabric of being.
->
-> The term "post-human" has been thrown around plenty, of course. It mostly fits, too, but I would argue that it also implies some remnant of humanity other than those within the System have (the creation of new, unique post-humans springs to mind). They are something *more*. They are something *different*. They are exohumans, perhaps. Post-biological. The language fails.
->
-> They are uploads, and we are not.
->
-> I stand by my firm argument against so many tired and played ones that I have seen. They are beings. A new species, perhaps, but we afford rights to *beings*. We afford rights to *individuals*. That they can fork presents new problems, but what has ever stood between humanity and a solution but staunch conservatism?
->
-> Vote for the granting of rights. Vote yes on *referendum 10b30188*
->
-> Yared Zerezghi (NEAC)
+There was a rhythm to research, Ioan had found. The ideas and information did not always flow smoothly; sometimes, ey would go days without breaking through the current blockage, or perhaps ey would rush forward in leaps and bounds, the periods of sleep and waking growing longer and longer until ey was out of sync with the world around em.
 
-As soon as he received confirmation that his post was visible on the DDR forums, Yared backed out from his rig and headed for the door, stretching a crick out of his spine as he went.
+But despite these peaks and troughs, there was a rhythm. Ey would find a pace at which the project would bloom, fits and starts or a smooth progression, and would slowly be able to predict the ways in which it would move.
 
-This had become routine. The action of posting a particularly frustrating essay to the forums had often been followed by going out for coffee, but now, as soon as he posted, he knew that Councilor Demma would arrive for a debriefing. This had turned into coffee together every two days. Yared would always go to the shop at the end of his street and wait for Demma's tireless driver to show up, buy three coffees and three pieces of himbasha, and lead him to the car. Sometimes, they drove out past the edge of the city to the fields of low-moisture corn and beans. Sometimes, they drove into the city center by Government House and circled the perimeter.
+There had been work before the launch, but the way in which it shifted after Dear's Death Day had knocked Ioan into enough of a different mindset that this felt like a new project. Ey supposed that it had to do with the sudden cessation of sensorium messages from Dear. That the fox was now restricted to text only must've been a shock to its system, and when eir thoughts would drift away from the task at hand of collating histories, ey would picture it sitting at a desk scribbling away, frustration on its features and agitation in its tail. 
 
-Or, as today, they simply sat in Demma's car, sipping on coffees and nibbling sweet bread while they talked.
+*Then again,* ey thought. *It still has plenty of company to pester up there.*
 
-"Mr. Zerezghi," the well-dressed driver said, enough acknowledgement for the day.
+"Woolgathering?"
 
-The owner of the coffee shop had already made their order as soon as Yared showed his face, so they collected their tray of drinks and food and walked through the late morning heat to the black car that stood idly by.
+Ey snapped back to attention and smiled sheepishly at May Then My Name where she had parked herself on the other side of the room. "Yeah, I guess. I get in the zone and then an idea gets away from me and I forget to keep working."
 
-As always, it took Yared a moment to acclimatize to the blast of conditioned air that greeted him when he slipped into the car, so Yosef Demma sipped his coffee and waited until Yared could speak once more.
+She nodded. "Well, come here, then. Let us plan instead of read or write or whatever it is you are doing over there."
 
-"Mr. Zerezghi, a pleasure to see you as always. How are you? Have you had a good day?"
+"Woolgathering, apparently," ey mumbled, but gathered up a notebook and a pen to go plop down next to the skunk all the same.
 
-"Yes, Councilor," Yared said, sipping at his coffee to stave off the chill of the air. "I trust that you have as well?"
+When May had moved in with Ioan the year before the launch, she had quickly requested several changes to the house. A desk for her to work at as well as a private room --- a cube with all grey walls --- in which to do whatever it was that she did when composing her mythos. She had also requested a few items that would work with her physiology. A stool for the desk that would let her tail drape down and curl around her feet, that sort of thing
 
-"Quite good, quite good."
+She had declined, however, another room or bed, which had initially staggered em.
 
-The formalities, those were also rote by now.
+"Are you going back home to sleep?" ey had asked. "I thought you were moving in here."
 
-"We have read your post. It is quite the well written essay."
+She had laughed and poked em in the stomach with a finger. "You have a bed, Ioan, yes? It fits two, yes? If not, just make it fit two."
 
-Yared nodded. "Thank you, sir."
+Ey had formed few attachments over the years, and certainly none which included sleeping in the same bed as someone. Eir confusion must have shown on eir face, as May had rolled her eyes and laughed.
 
-The councilor leaned back against his seat, switching his coffee for a slice of the himbasha. "You know, originally, my constituents and I were nervous about the idea of letting you craft your own posts. Many thought it unwise to let you choose your own words, thinking it best that we write your arguments for you and have you simply post them. I disagreed, as I think that something of your style would be lost in the process. You rely on a lot of imagery and word choices that are good at swaying readers, and I think this isn't necessarily a thing that my speech writers would be able to accomplish. You have recently changed their minds."
+"I do not mean anything untoward by it," she had said.
 
-"I'm happy to hear that. I like to think I'm a good writer."
+Ey had struggled to speak with a mouth suddenly dry. "If you say so. I just haven't slept in the same bed with someone...uh, ever, I guess."
 
-"You are, you are," Demma nodded. "But it is always good to see that working to your advantage. To our advantage."
+Her eyes had widened and she tilted her head. "Really? Never?"
 
-Yared suppressed a smile.
+Ey had shook eir head.
 
-"We are also pleased to see the way in which you incorporated our suggestion."
+"Well, I would still prefer to share your bed with you, it is just the way I work. I do not sleep well alone. But if you feel uncomfortable, I will be fine with another bed like yours."
 
-"I'm glad to hear. I was worried, I'll admit. It's not that I don't agree with the speciation argument, I just had originally worried that it was distracting from the topic at hand."
+So now ey slept beside a skunk.
 
-"Of course, Yared. You have your own reasons to argue for individual rights, and we do want to respect those. You must understand, however, that we have the benefit of a team of analysts on our side, and they have determined that, from the Direct Democracy angle, this is the most efficient way forward specifically for the secession movement."
+She had also requested a few beanbags that she could curl on, more comfortable than a couch for one with an outsized tail. Each of these was larger than Ioan had felt was strictly necessary, and it had required that ey expand the bounds of the rooms to fit them, but ey had quickly gotten used to them, as ey could stretch out on them just as well as May. They were a little too amorphous to sleep on, but still plenty comfortable.
 
-Leaning back into his seat and holding his empty coffee cup in his hands to leach the last bits of warmth from it, Yared sighed. "Of course. And as I mentioned, I'm not necessarily against the arguments you suggested."
+Ey sunk into a slouch on one next to the skunk, feeling the way it molded around em. Ey knew well enough by now to lift up the arm on the side where the skunk was curled, and she predictably scootched up by eir side to rest her head against eir chest at the shoulder, arm around eir middle. Ey let eir arm drop again, curling it around her shoulders.
 
-The note had come late the night before, delivered via courier, along with an apology that he had been given so little time to work it into his next post. *Begin to agree with speciation,* it had read, and a tang of distaste tickled at his senses. *Not quickly, just hint that you're being swayed. Say you're starting to be convinced, but that this only strengthens your arguments.*
+"Alright, planning," ey said, reaching eir free right arm down beside the beanbag for the lap desk which had proved so useful for times such as these. "What should we plan?"
 
-Demma reached out a hand for Yared's cup, as he always did, and crumpled it together with his to dispose of in a waste basket hidden in the back of one of the seats of the car. "Mr. Zerezghi," he said, bowing slightly in his seat. "Thank you once more. I won't take up any more of your time. You should have your next suggestion in the next day or two."
+"How about your forks?"
 
-Yared returned the bow and, as if that were the command he was waiting for, the driver opened the door to let him out into the growing heat of the day. He swayed once more at the shock of the temperature difference.
+"Right, yes. Do you think I should have one for both Castor and Pollux? And I'll probably need one for history, judging by what you've told me already."
 
-"Yared," the driver said, nodding, then slid back into the driver's seat of the car.
+She nodded, the fur of an ear-tip tickling at eir neck. "Start with one each. You can always cut down from there if it is unnecessary, or use them only as needed. If that first message from Codrin on Castor is anything to go by, better safe than sorry. Monsters and cults! It is all very like Dear. I bet it put Codrin up to it, what with me doing the myth bits."
 
-Once he could walk again without stumbling, he made his way back to his room and out of the sun. It was air conditioned, yes, but the unit in the wall had seen better days. *Much* better days.
+"Ey's been infected by Dear's weirdness."
 
-A sudden wave of exhaustion crashed over him, but all the same, he settled back into the chair before his rig and delved in once more.
+"It is an Odist thing. You will catch it, too, from me." She laughed.
 
-A message was already waiting for him at his desk, so, in the sim, he sat down before it, smiling inwardly at the oddly duplicated action.
+"I don't doubt I will. I'm thinking the triad on Pollux fell asleep instead. They're already diverging." Ey started a diagram on the page. "So that's three. Would it be four Ioans Bălan total, then, with me to collate the information?"
 
-> **Jonas Prime:** Yared! Beautifully done. Ping when you're back around.
+"Probably for the best, yes."
 
-He swiped a keyboard into view and instructed his desk to do just that.
+"This down-tree instance to collate, two for the LVs, one for early System history--"
 
-> **Jonas:** Welcome back. How goes?
-> 
-> **Yared Zerezghi:** Well enough. Hot as ever. Thanks, by the way. Think the post will help?
+"I will fork for that as well."
 
-Inwardly, he fretted, worrying that his counterparts in the System had picked up on the slow change in direction over the last few posts.
+"More Mays?" Ioan laughed.
 
-> **The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream:** Probably! I am pleased that you enjoyed my description of brushing and petting.
-> 
-> **Yared:** I felt it got the point across quite nicely.
-> 
-> **True Name**: That it did.
-> 
-> **Jonas:** We've been tracking the speciation argument, as far as we can see, and it's an interesting idea. I go back and forth on it. Sometimes, it feels like a distinction without a difference, and sometimes, phys-side ideas just leave me completely baffled. I've forgotten how strange the System sounded when I was outside of it.
-> 
-> **True Name:** Yes. It is a good talking point, but also a line that you should walk carefully. I worry that it will lead the discussion back to the "sub-human" arguments that pop up here and there.
+She poked the tip of her tongue out of her muzzle. "Are you complaining?"
 
-His heart dropped. So they had picked up on the change.
+"No, no, I'm sure it'll be fine. That's three forks. A fourth as needed for interviews for those who stayed behind." Ey tapped eir pen against eir lower lip. "How often should we merge?"
 
-> **Yared:** I'm worried about that as well. Still, when I've argued on the forums in the past, I've found that building a strong argument and then slipping a little bit of empathy for the other side nudges them to do the same.
+"I would suggest once a day to start with, perhaps an hour before you --- your #Tracker instance --- plan on stopping work for the day. You can use that hour to do your collating. You are less used to frivolous forking than the Odists, and much as I might enjoy multiple Ioans to canoodle with, I would prefer that you not get overwhelmed."
 
-A lie, but hopefully a helpful one.
+Ey laughed and shook eir head, jotting down notes on the paper as ey talked. "You're probably right. Besides, I'd have to make the house even bigger to have enough bedrooms."
 
-> **True Name:** I had not thought of that, but I was never big into the DDR. Calling it both "Direct Democracy" and a "Representative" made it sound disingenuous.
-> 
-> **Jonas:** I mean, it makes sense. If they start feeling our empathy in the equation, maybe they'll start feeling empathy towards us.
-> 
-> **Yared:** That's the hope! Some of these people though...
-> 
-> **Jonas:** Numbskulls.
-> 
-> **True Name:** Dipshits.
-> 
-> **Yared:** Both accurate.
-> 
-> **True Name:** Just do not generate too much empathy in them. I do not want them latching onto anything to use against you.
-> 
-> **True Name:** Against us, in the end.
-> 
-> **Yared:** Of course! I'll keep monitoring the forums and chatter, and it looks like some governments are waking up to it.
-> 
-> **True Name:** Whoopee.
-> 
-> **Jonas:** I'll have you know that she just rolled her eyes at me.
-> 
-> **True Name:** Jerk.
-> 
-> **Yared:** Haha. Still, I think it'll help. It means that this is is going to be taken into consideration and not just turn into a DDR-only referendum. If we get them discussing it, then we have a smaller target to influence. DDR votes carry less weight when gov'ts weigh in. They read the forums as much as any DDR junkie, so the arguments can sometimes carry more weight.
-> 
-> **True Name:** As much as it pains me to admit, you have a point.
-> 
-> **Jonas:** When you get a chance, you and I can go into it more in depth, Yared.
-> 
-> **Yared:** Have some thoughts?
-> 
-> **Jonas:** I was a politician phys-side, so, yeah.
-> 
-> **True Name:** WHAT
-> 
-> **True Name:** You are kidding.
-> 
-> **Jonas:** I'll have you know that she just punched me in the shoulder.
-> 
-> **True Name:** And I will do it again. Fucking gross.
-> 
-> **Jonas:** I'll have you know that she did, indeed, do it again.
+She tightened her arm around eir middle and shrugged. "Or the bed, but there will be only one of you. I may keep a fork or two around working on other tasks, but they can shift schedules if you would prefer not to have multiple mes crowding in on you at night."
 
-Yared laughed. He was pleased to see them in good spirits.
+Ioan brushed the fingers on eir left hand through the soft fur on the skunk's arm. "I'd prefer that, if that's okay. I'm only just getting used to sleeping next to one you."
 
-> **Yared:** Don't beat him up too bad, True Name. He probably does have some good info, even if it is a few years old.
-> 
-> **True Name:** ...
-> 
-> **True Name:** I GUESS
+Tilting her muzzle up, she dotted her nose against the underside of eir chin. "For which I am grateful! I struggle to be around people without being close to them. Thank you for indulging me."
+
+"Of course," ey mumbled, feeling the skunk's snout lingering beneath eir chin. "It's just new to me. Unexpected."
+
+"Why?"
+
+Ioan frowned and set the lap desk and notes aside, opting instead to brush eir fingers along her arm. This conversation had slid off course, and ey knew that it was hopeless to get it back. Once May began to talk about feelings, all was lost. It was evening, anyhow, and a good time to set work aside.
+
+"I suppose it just never occurred to me," ey said. "Forming attachments that would lead to something like...whatever this is has never really been a need of mine, so it just never happened."
+
+The skunk nodded against eir chest, and ey could sense a frown on her muzzle. "That is so counter to the way I function that I cannot even picture it. I am a being of attachments. I think we all are, just to greater or lesser extent."
+
+"I guess. I'm not a total recluse. I like interacting with others."
+
+"Just not beyond a certain point."
+
+Ey hesitated, then said, "It'd probably be more accurate to say that it's never happened before. I enjoy it now, it just didn't even really cross my mind until recently."
+
+"When you had someone addicted to close attachments move in with you?"
+
+"A bit before, perhaps, probably when working on *On the Perils of Memory*, what with all that went into that Qoheleth business, though I couldn't put my finger on it at the time. That's where Codrin came from, after all."
+
+May slipped her arm from beneath eir hand so that she could lace her fingers with eirs. "That makes sense. Do you understand it better now?"
+
+"A bit, though I suspect I have a long ways to go yet," ey said, squeezing her fingers between eir own. "Why are we talking about this, by the way?"
+
+She laughed. "We are part of this story, too."
+
+"Does that mean we're going to figure in your mythology, too?"
+
+"Oh, of course! The archivist of tales and eir lover, the painter of myths!"
+
+Ioan laughed. "Lover? Really?"
+
+"It makes for good reading," she said, poking her nose up at eir chin again. "Though I would not turn it down."
+
+Ioan tensed. Ey could feel eir cheeks burning. "Uh...there's another conversation I've never had to have before."
+
+"We will have it another time," the skunk murmured. "Your heart is racing and making my pillow uncomfortable."
+
+Ey forced a laugh. "What is it with you Odists? Are you all this good at turning everything on its head? Dear and Codrin, and now--"
+
+"You and me?" May giggled.
+
+"I was going to say, "And now you're pushing me in weird directions." I wasn't expecting Codrin to find emself in a triad, if I'm honest."
+
+"You, my dear, lack a certain self-awareness for someone who spends all eir time up in eir head."
+
+"Thanks, I think." Ioan shifted to the side enough to look down at the skunk. "How do you mean, though?"
+
+She laughed and licked em on eir chin. It was an odd sensation. "It is not surprising at all, knowing Dear. For as inventive and high-minded it is, it has a pattern of conforming itself to a situation such that those around it *want* to get close to it, and it does so in such a way that they think they want to be close of their own volition. It tailors its charisma to fit."
+
+"Are you saying it's manipulative?"
+
+"Oh, no. Not really, at least. I do not think it knows that it is doing that. It also lacks that self-awareness. It is more like..." She trailed off, visibly searching for the words. "It is like it knows what feels good but not why, so it has developed mechanisms to ensure that those good things happen more frequently."
+
+"More like a self-reinforcing behavior, I guess?"
+
+She nodded.
+
+"I suppose that makes sense, then." A silence fell during which Ioan thought about what self-reinforcing social behaviors ey had. "I like to work. It's a really fulfilling feeling. So I work. I try hard to do a good job, and when I do, it leads to more work. I developed a way to keep myself interested."
+
+"A coping mechanism for the terminally immortal."
+
+Ioan laughed. "'Terminally immortal'? How does that even work?"
+
+"I do not know. You are the word nerd, here."
+
+"The archivist of tales, you mean."
+
+She laughed. "Of course. And eir pet mythologist."
+
+"Oh, now it's 'pet'?"
+
+"I am still trying on labels. I am the one who has to write that sort of stuff, after all."
+
+Ey lay back against the beanbag and May made herself comfortable against em once more.
+
+More woolgathering. That's what the evening called for, more than work. More woolgathering for the both of them.
+
+Lovers? Ey let a tape run forward in eir mind. Ey watched the friendship ey had formed with May progress into some form of romantic relationship. How would it start? Would it start with em making a formal decision to let that happen? Or would it happen by accident? Would ey some day wake up and realize, *Holy shit, I think we're dating. Are we dating? I think we are.*
+
+And ey set a different tape to playing. A tape wherein ey set firmer boundaries, prohibited the friendship from progressing further than it already had. Or, worse --- strange to already be placing value judgements! --- a world in which ey pushed the skunk away, backed off from the physical affection, from the talk that bordered on flirty, from even the hypocorism 'May'. If ey let that tape play beyond that point, ey knew ey would find all of the ways in which that would hurt May and how, knowing her, seeing her express that pain would hurt em in turn.
+
+*How do they do this?* ey thought. *How do the Odists just worm their way into your life and make themselves comfortable, letting you think it was your idea? That's what she'd said, and now I'm in exactly the same position as Codrin twenty years ago.*
+
+"It is not intentional, Ioan, I promise. Not wholly."
+
+Ey jolted, blinking rapidly as her words registered. "Wait, what? What isn't?"
+
+"Getting close. Wearing down your inhibitions. What we were talking about before."
+
+"You reading my mind?"
+
+She shook her head and ey could hear the smile in her voice. "You mumble when you think really hard."
+
+"Shit, right. Sorry. I trust you on that. I'm not upset or anything, I like, uh...this, and don't have any plans from rolling that back. You mentioned a pattern, though, and got me thinking about it."
+
+"This is what I like about you, Ioan. What the whole clade likes about you, if history is anything to go by. You spend enough time up in your head that you start thinking about what you are thinking about and putting words to what you are feeling. You get surprised, and then you think about your surprise and break it down to make meaning of it. What you lack in self-awareness you make up in easy self-analysis."
+
+"Feels like overanalysis, sometimes." 
+
+"Mm, probably is, and sometimes I wish you would come back down out of your head to be present. But it is the same as we are prone to overdoing whatever it is that we are specialists in. Dear goes hard on instance art, I go hard on feeling."
+
+"What are you feeling about..." Ey forced himself to push away encroaching work-thoughts. Ey had been about to say *about this whole venture*, but instead went with, "About this?"
+
+"Now?" She squeezed eir fingers in her own before disentangling them to tap at eir nose. "I am feeling comfortable with you, and I am feeling happy about that. I am feeling like asking you to cook something because I am starving or asking you if you'd like to go to bed because I am tired or asking you to get back to work so that I can do the same."
+
+"That's a lot of feelings at once," ey said, grinning.
+
+"Like I said, we overdo it."
+
+"Well," ey said, focusing enough to fork off two more Ioans, which ey tagged #Castor and #Pollux.
+
+"I'll finish up work," #Castor said.
+
+"And I'll cook dinner," #Pollux said.
+
+"And we can head to bed after we eat."
+
+May's laugh was bright as she clapped her paws. "Well played." She slid off the beanbag and stood. She forked another May to go help #Pollux cook before stretching and offering a paw to Ioan to help em stand.
+
+"What?" Ey took the paw and let her help lever em out of the beanbag. She kept the grip on eir hand after. "Bed now? Instead of eating?"
+
+"Excuse me. We are adults in this house, Mx. Ioan Bălan, and adults eat at the fucking table and not on a pouf."