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# Codrin Bălan#Pollux --- 2325
# True Name --- 2124
Codrin was, as ey supposed everyone must be, primed to hunt for patterns.
It had initially taken some getting used to, meeting with one's up- or cross-tree instances. Michelle, in her role in helping tie the cost of forking to the reputation markets, had certainly done it a number of times before, but, as the cost of a new fork was only applied five minutes after it had been created, all of her forks to date had been short-lived in order to conserve her reputation for some imagined future date.
The Odists, as much as they tried to resist it, were as beholden to living within a pattern as any other group of individuals. Perhaps more so than other clades, but certainly well within the realm of societies, or even families. It wasn't just that they were all weird --- though they were --- nor that many of them fit the mold of either the human or skunk versions of Michelle Hadje --- though that was certainly true. It was a matter of bearing, of how they carried themselves, of how they expressed themselves. Not all were as excitable as Dear nor as affectionate as May Then My Name, but all of the ones that ey had met had the same walk, the same smile, the same sensation of quiet when they were quiet and the same way of speaking when they spoke.
The date had come and gone, now, so True Name --- and likely all of the other Odists --- had had to learn how to interact with the other copies of Michelle Hadje/Sasha that had sprung so quickly into being and immediately began to diverge.
The differences, then, were in the details. Where Qoheleth had opted for the biblical look, May Then My Name had decided on a comfortable softness that befitted her similarly comfortable, soft nature. And where Dear had wholly owned a look that somehow managed to be both painfully well-dressed and playful, the woman before em exuded all of the casual cool of one who was relaxing on a summer Saturday. It was a weekend look, and ey could not find any other way to describe it.
The fact that those who matched Michelle and those who matched Sasha were evenly distributed had helped at first. There had been some oddness in talking to a Michelle-alike, given the countless memories of the constant shifting between the two forms, but that had had a different flavor to it than talking to another Sasha-alike. Seeing a form and a face that so clearly mirrored her own was not exactly unnerving so much as uncanny.
Ey was surprised when ey had been contacted by her, rather than the other way around.
As the days and weeks went by, however, the forks diverged further and further, and different cares painted different faces, different habits were formed and dropped, and it became less like talking to an alternate version of oneself and more like talking to a twin, a sibling.
> Hey, there is this neat bar I know. Come check it out, and we can chat there.
>
> --- Why Ask Questions, Here At The End Of All Things of the Ode Clade
So it was when The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream met with That Which Lives Is Forever Praiseworthy.
It came as a letter. An actual, honest-to-goodness letter, slipped under eir door (which is how the sim decided to interpret it), written in a rounded hand on yellow legal pad paper.
Her initial impression is that the other skunk had shifted her wardrobe to look more professional, choosing a loose-fitting pantsuit in muted blue that had been in style before Michelle had uploaded. This also included a pair of pince nez glasses perched atop her muzzle which, when True Name inquired, Praiseworthy explained were non-prescription, and "something I am just trying for the moment. They are quite annoying, but still fetching."
Ey spent nearly five minutes just staring at the letter, turning it over in eir hands, inspecting the writing, the ink (shitty ballpoint, ey had noted with distaste), the creases. Ey could make neither heads nor tails of it. It was incredibly Odist while at the same time being totally unique.
Beyond that, however, Praiseworthy had decided to divest herself of many of the personality traits that had made Sasha Sasha. Gone were those aspects of childishness that Michelle had long held onto, and gone was the exhaustion that had lingered for years after getting lost.
When ey showed it to Dear, the fox rolled its eyes and handed it back.
*I have changed, too, at that,* True Name thought. *I have become the politician, working with Jonas. Praiseworthy has become something else.*
*"She is a shithead."*
The two skunks shook paws, and then Praiseworthy drew True Name into a hug. It was surprising. Something about it felt both natural and performative, as though this was just a thing that one did when one had a role to play.
"A shithead?" Ey laughed. "How so?"
"True Name," Praiseworthy said. Her smile was warm and earnest, and she spoke with willing paws, palms up. "It is nice to see you again."
*"She just is. That whole stanza is made up of assholes."*
She laughed. "I suppose so. You have changed quite a bit in so short a time."
"Should I be careful or anything?"
The other skunk bowed, laughing. "As have you, my dear! And that is why you have come here, is it not?"
*"No, no. You will like her, I promise."*
"I guess it is, yes. The more I work with Jonas, and the more I talk with the Council and phys-side --- the more politicking that I do --- the more I feel the ways in which my attitude and expressions are lacking."
Codrin refolded the note and tucked it into a pocket in eir tunic. "You sound less than fond of her."
Praiseworthy nodded. "Yes, you do still have some of the stiffness about you, and there are some sharp edges that could do with softening."
The fox shook its head. *"Not at all. I like her quite a bit, but I like her because she is good at making others like her."*
"Softening?"
"Aren't you all, though?" Dear's partner called from the couch. "Look at what May Then My Name is doing to poor Ioan."
"Yes. It is mostly a matter of appearance and affect, though. You should not blunt your wit or intellect, just your tone and features."
*"Yes, but she is particularly good at it, and that is why she is a shithead. She is more like some strange inversion of May Then My Name. It is a matter of intent."* It grinned at Codrin and took eir hand in its paw to give the back of it an affectionate lick. *"You do not need to be careful, though. She is harmless to any one individual, and any harm that she might cause to a group will be welcomed with open arms and all of the love in the world."*
True Name frowned. "I am not sure what you mean by blunting or softening, though."
"Sounds charismatic."
Praiseworthy took her gently by the elbow and started walking through the grass. They had decided to meet on a portion of Michelle's dandelion-ridden sim, far away from their root instance, but in a place that was still familiar to both.
*"That is not quite the right word, but it will suffice."* It laughed, pushing Codrin's hand away again. *"Go on, then. Enjoy. If it is the bar that I am thinking of, you will doubtless have a good time."*
"Take your walk, for instance. Even now, as we are just out for a stroll, you walk with purpose. Your shoulders move too much. Remember, if you keep them pointed straight ahead and shift the rolling motion to your hips, it will lead to others seeing more feminine aspects in you."
"And will I get more of this story that keeps coming up?"
She tried to keep her shoulders still as they walked, immediately feeling a slight strain in her hips.
Dear turned back to its desk where it had been working. *"Oh yes."*
Praiseworthy laughed. "You do not need to keep them level to the ground, just perpendicular to the direction you are walking in. But here, no need to practice too hard. Fork, holding in your mind a pelvis just a hair wider than your own, but keeping your hips the same width. It will mean slimming down a little."
And so here ey was, sitting across a trestle table from woman dressed from a weekend, up on the roof of a car park, drinking a very spicy, very clammy Caesar while she laughed about how terrible her cocktail was.
"I can do that?"
"Is it really that bad?" ey asked.
"Of course. Zeke dreamed some algorithmic magic behind the scenes. You can fork yourself into most anything that can be consensually held in the mind."
"Here! Here, have a sip. It is atrocious."
True Name nodded warily, holding this new image of herself in her mind.
Ey took the glass and sniffed it warily. It smelled of citrus. Ey took a sip, tried to swallow, but began coughing violently instead. "What...what the hell is in that?"
"Perfect," Praiseworthy said, moving to take this new fork by the elbow and nodding to the original instance of the skunk. "Now you quit. No need to incur a charge. Michelle, no need to accept further memories from us for the day."
"Neutral spirits, at least ninety percent, lime zest, and enough seltzer to make it not burn on the way down."
The skunks tilted their heads in unison.
"Not burn?" Codrin said around an ice cube. The spice of eir Caesar didn't hold a candle to the alcoholic heat of the drink.
"Michelle will be getting a pile of memories, if she wants, as I will have you fork a few more times yet. I have been letting her know when she can ignore further merges, as I have done this quite often."
"That is what they said."
The first True Name nodded, then disappeared.
"Then they failed miserably."
True Name felt down her flanks, taking a few more steps and finding it far easier to walk casually and still keep her shoulders pointed forward. She nodded approvingly. "Excellent. What other suggestions do you have?"
She laughed, earnest and joyful. "That is precisely what they excel at, here. How is your drink?"
"For your role, you will need to carefully balance cute, attractive, and competent. If you go too far towards cute, then it will be difficult for you to be taken seriously. The same if you go too far attractive because you will be just a pretty face. If you go too far competent, you will be seen as dour and unpleasant."
"Very heavy on the clam. I think there are some frozen into the ice cubes."
Praiseworthy stopped her and turned her gently to look at her face.
She reached out for the drink, and ey shrugged, sliding it over to her. She took a sip, made a sour face, then dipped her fingers into the glass to fish out one of the shellfish ice cubes to crunch on. The sour face turned to one of disgust.
"Now, first, your eyes will need to be just a hair larger, your ears slightly rounder, your cheeks fuller, and you will need fewer but longer whiskers. Can you hold those in your mind?"
The move was so innocent, so playful, that eir first reaction was to laugh rather than get upset at someone's fingers in eir drink. Ey liked her at once, then grudgingly admitted to emself that, yes, she was kind of a shithead for just how effortlessly she had made em laugh, not three minutes into meeting her.
She closed her eyes, picturing what she knew of herself in her mind, and forked.
Once ey had eir drink again, ey asked, "So, why did you invite me here?"
"Goodness."
"You are doing your thing with Dear, are you not? Your..." She spun her finger in the air as she pulled up the word she was looking for. "History? Your myth? It is so fascinating! There is so much story to be had after two hundred years. Creation, Secession, Launch; so much happened around those and between them, and sure, there are timelines and dry textbooks and whatever, but this! You are one of the first ones who is actually pulling a story out of it."
She opened her eyes again to look at the fork, immediately laughing and shaking her head.
Ey grinned. "That's the hope, yeah. I was originally going to just make it about Launch, but there are more parallels between Secession and the launch than I'd expected."
"Am I cute?" the new skunk asked.
"There are, yes. And you know, I wonder if we will start thinking of the launch in the same way as Secession. You can almost hear the capital-S in Secession, and now I hear it in Launch."
"Adorable, but that is not quite the direction we want to go. You look closer to a teddy bear."
"Perhaps. Maybe we'll just do it from here and the L<sub>5</sub> System or Castor will do something else."
She rolled her eyes, then quit.
"Mmhm." She grinned at em. "I have already heard from Castor via the System that we are starting to diverge in pretty major ways."
"Let us try one at a time. You will need to work fairly quickly to avoid the hit in reputation. Fork once, and then that fork will continue to look as you do now, while you work progressively on each of those steps." When True Name did so, Praiseworthy nodded. "First, rounder ears."
"I've heard similar through Ioan, yeah. I'm happy to share what I have, though. You're the first other Odist that I've talked with about this aside from Dear and May Then My Name."
The new fork perked up when her down-tree instance forked and quit, the new instance having slightly rounder ears. She nodded, smiling.
"May! Oh gosh, what a delight. Has she already tricked Ioan into falling in love with her?"
"Excellent. Now the whiskers. Great. Cheeks? And...eyes. Fantastic." Praiseworthy smiled after all the forking had been completed, then nodded to the first of the new instances, who quit.
Codrin laughed. "Tricked?"
The option for a rush of memories was provided to True Name, who, on a whim, accepted it, now remembering what it had looked like from the outside as her face had grown...well, cuter. It had worked well.
"Do not get me wrong, I do not think that she is disingenuous about it or that her intentions are anything but pure, but I have yet to meet a single person who has not fallen at least a little in love with May after spending any considerable length of time with her."
The two skunks worked through a short laundry list of changes. True Name grew an inch or so taller, her shoulders became the slightest bit flatter without getting broader, her back straighter.
Ey nodded, stirring eir drink with the too-large stalk of celery. "That's fair. And for what it's worth, yeah, I think she has. I don't think ey's ready to admit it yet, but yeah. Your whole clade is like that, you know?"
One last time, she forked to get a good look at herself to compare with what she remembered from before the process.
Why Ask Questions adopted a look of indignation. "Are you accusing me of being manipulative? Codrin Bălan, I would never! All I did was figure out that you really like nice paper, nice pens, and hand-written notes, find the best way to subvert that, invite you out to a bar that would clearly pique your interest, and beguile you into talking about your down-tree instance falling in love over terrible drinks."
She was, indeed, cuter, but this was tempered by a more conventionally attractive body type, staying shy of being both adorable and overtly attractive. This somehow combined into a look that was more professional. It made her look, she realized, like a public figure.
"What?" Ey laughed. "Did you really do that?"
"Oh, this is delightful."
The offended look slipped into a proud one that bordered perilously close to smug. "Of course. But I also did want to meet you. I really am a fan of this project, and I wanted to be a part of it, if you will have me."
Praiseworthy beamed. "I am glad that you enjoy."
"Well, alright. I'm happy to hear that other Odists are interested in it. I've been asking a few rote questions and then letting a conversation develop from there. Is that alright?"
They worked next on how to better her affect. Smile more earnestly, laugh more easily, transition from those expressions to stern or confident or pitying. There were a few more forks as they worked on ways to soften True Name's voice, pitching it just a little lower, rounding some of the vowels, practicing elocution. With each fork, she found that the lessons stuck more firmly. Perhaps what was in her mind before became more cemented in place.
"Of course!"
Finally, Praiseworthy had True Name practice forking into a Michelle-form for situations where a skunk would be out of place, and then they worked on perfecting that version of her, as well. It was surprising, at first, that she could even make so great a change with one fork, but then, she remembered precisely what it had felt like to be Michelle, just as she remembered what it felt like to be Sasha.
"First up, I have yet to check, but did you invest entirely in the launches, or is there still a fork of you back on the System?"
Eventually, when the practice and modifications had wrapped up, nearly two hours later, the two skunks sat at the top of a low raise in the landscape, and True Name discussed the other reason that she had sought out Praiseworthy.
"Oh, I left a fork back there. I am not nearly so brave as you and your family. And before you ask, that is who I have been communicating with to relay messages between the two LVs."
"I need help in spreading ideas. I know that you have settled back into acting and directing, but I do not have the time or energy to guide emotions and reactions to news while still working on this political angle." She plucked a few blades of grass, rolling them into little balls between fingerpads. "I know that propaganda is not the same thing as theater, but would you be willing--"
"Are your...well, let me back up. What are your roles? Jobs, interests, whatever."
"Yes!" Praiseworthy laughed. "Of course I would be willing to help. There is more than a little propagandizing in trying to get actors to do their fucking jobs, even when the actors are yourself. What precisely do you need? Speeches? Words whispered here and there? Posters?"
She laughed, shrugging. "I do not really have one at the moment. I helped a little with the launch, and rather a lot with Secession. My job was basically to work with crowds. I love talking one on one like this, but I always feel guilty actually manipulating individuals --- and not just the basic research I mentioned earlier. Crowds are another story. I can get a whole restaurant singing a song together whether or not they are drunk."
True Name laughed and shook her head. "Not quite the answer that I was expecting, but yes. Speeches and letters specifically. Some geared toward phys-side, some toward the Council, and probably a few towards other groups sys-side. I would not turn down a few words whispered here and there, though that will take some strategizing. There will be an instance of Jonas who will be working with you in shaping sentiment, as well."
"Dear did mention that you worked at scale, yeah."
"I will look forward to it, then."
"The fox also probably called me a shithead."
They sat for a while in the sun, each looking out into the fields. At one point, Praiseworthy took off her glasses and set them on the bridge of True Name's muzzle, shook her head, and slid them into a jacket pocket.
Codrin, caught in the middle of a sip of eir drink, coughed.
It was good to be around oneself, True Name realized. There was none of the pressure involved with interacting with others, none of the careful maneuvering required when talking with Jonas. They could just sit there, side by side, and understand that there was nothing between them that the other did not also, at least to some extent, understand.
"Of course it did! What an asshole. I love it for that."
"Have you talked to many others in the clade?" Praiseworthy asked.
"To be fair, it also told me I'd like you immediately, and I do, so at least there's that."
She shook her head. "Here and there. I have a meeting scheduled with Life Breeds Life, but that is about it. You?"
Why Ask Questions preened, saying, "Why, thank you. I am flattered. To get back to your question, though, yes, my goal was working crowds. I helped heavily with the campaign for Secession sys-side. My cocladist, Why Ask Questions When The Answers Will Not Help, was tasked with managing much of the phys-side campaigning."
"You were the last I had yet to speak with. It is interesting to see how we have each decided to focus on different areas. You dove hard into the political angle. I tried to get back to theatre, but enough of that desire remained in me that your propaganda job sounds fun. Life Breeds Life is quite strange. He has been focusing--"
"And you did similar during the launch?"
"He?"
"Yes. May worked the technical side, I worked the campaign side. There was little work to be done sys-side, though. Most everyone was on board immediately."
Praiseworthy shrugged. "I guess. He has been focusing on historical stuff. Documenting this and that, digging into old things. I have no idea where that came from. Loss For Images is writing, these days. May One Day is fiddling with reputation markets --- or at least as much as Debarre will let her --- and last I heard, Hammered Silver has just been either chilling here with Michelle or sim-hopping."
Codrin nodded, "I don't remember much in the way of arguments against the launch."
"How is she, anyway?"
"I like an easy job every now and then."
"Michelle?" Praiseworthy frowned, ears tilting back. "Much the same. I think the last of her energy went into us, and she is...I do not know. Empty? She spends a lot of time sleeping, a lot of time sitting and thinking. She came to a play, but left partway through. She is still of two minds."
"Was Secession that much more difficult?"
"And she still has not explained why she never fixed it?"
She leaned back from the table, twirling her drink thoughtfully. "I suppose, yes. It is not that there was not support for it, sys-side, but before we had seceded, the political situation was far more complicated. The System needed to agree to secede just as much as the governments outside needed to agree to allow us."
The skunk shook her head.
"This was back when the Council of Eight was a thing, right?"
"Any guesses?"
"Mmhm. It was their --- our --- last big work. We did a good job at getting everything set up so that it would just run, then we stepped back. The goal was always to guide rather than to govern, as I am sure you have heard."
"Nothing solid."
Codrin nodded. "Ezekiel put it almost the same way."
True Name nodded and turned her gaze back to the rolling plain. So much grass. So many dandelions. "There is a time and a place for dwelling in memory," she said. "But Michelle does nothing else. It is no wonder she is stuck. When...when ey died, I think she began to as well. When she she dumped the last of herself into the Ode, she sealed the deal."
"He is here?"
Praiseworthy said nothing.
The sudden intensity of her gaze, the drop of her smile, the sharpness of her voice made Codrin sit up straighter. "Yeah. I interviewed him a few weeks back. Why?"
"She is dead, I think. There is no more life in her. There is nothing to be done but let her enjoy that death as long as she would like. I do not expect that she will come back."
"I am just surprised that he agreed to come along on the launch at all."
"He invested entirely, actually."
"Oh did he?" She smiled tightly, sipping at her drink and wincing. "Well, how about that."
"Why did you not expect him to be on the launch?"
"You met him. He is not the person that he used to be. None of us are, I suppose, but he has lost some core aspect of his being. He lost what made him Zeke when he became Ezekiel."
"It was a pretty surreal experience," ey admitted. "Was he also a part of the plan for Secession?"
"Not really, no. That was mostly our clade and the Jonas clade."
"Was the Council of Eight really a council of eight clades?"
She laughed, then held up her finger to her lips. "Do not tell anyone. It was specifically not to be that, but the workload around Secession grew out of proportion for the two of us who were focusing on it, so we forked in the background to get all that we needed done. It was all above board within the Council, but no one else knew."
Codrin nodded and, remembering some of the caginess that Dear had shown, asked, "Do you want me to keep that part out of the history?"
"Oh, goodness no. Please keep it in! I may not be manipulative, but I am careful. I will not tell you anything that I do not want to wind up in your project."
"Dear said that if I pressed any one Odist too hard, they'd resent it and start lying."
"I suspect that it is right in that, too," she said. "But I will not let our conversation get to that point. I will just make you move on to the next question."
Ey nodded, considering eir next question. "So, how much did the clade work together back then?"
"It differed from person to person. Praiseworthy --- Dear's down-tree instance --- was keen on working with all of us, while some others essentially talked to no one. I did not talk to many of them at first, given that I was...well, it was not so much that I was not supposed to exist, that I was not supposed to be playing a role. At first, I looked almost exactly like my down-tree instance so that we might be mistaken for each other. I decided that I was done being a skunk some years after, though."
"Are you still in touch with your down-tree instance?"
She nodded eagerly. "Oh yes, we talk quite often."
"And she was the one who was organizing the campaign?"
"She and Jonas, yes. We played our silly little game of politics, and then after Secession, we had no reason to go so hard at it, so we simply became friends."
"While I'm on the subject, did you talk much with Michelle?"
"Next!" Why Ask Questions said gleefully, waving her glass at em.
"What? Oh! Right, okay." Ey let the thread drop and prowled through eir mental list of questions. "Alright. I talked a little to Dear about what the mood was like before and after Secession. I have my own experiences from before and after the launch, but I'm curious what yours were. Was the launch exciting to you? Just another day's work?"
"True Name was to organize Launch as she did with Secession, so I suppose it was a bit of both. We were all excited to have a fun project on our hands, and it was a lot of work, even if my role was easy. When the launch actually happened, we had our own little party separate from the fête that you and yours put on." She raised her glass. "The drinks were far better."
Ey laughed.
"It has calmed down since then, as I mentioned. There is little to do, and what remains of our stanza launch-side has started to drift apart once again. We are all friends, but we are coworkers first and foremost, and when we do not have to be at work, we will not be."
"You hang out with other friends, then?"
"Hang out, drink, go for long walks on the beach, watch plays --- did you know that Time Is A Finger Pointed At Itself has put on some really interesting ones? Michelle was a theatre nerd before she uploaded. She put much of that on hold after the whole getting lost kerfuffle and all of the politics that went into the first years after uploading, but still that desire sticks with us."
"Stepping back a second, you said that True Name was to organize the launch. What did you mean by that?"
"I would like to say 'next', but I will answer this question, and then perhaps we can just enjoy the day for a little while. Does that sound alright, Mx Bălan?"
Ey frowned, but nodded all the same.
"One of the last things that Michelle did with each of the stanzas was to give us all a task. Ours was not actually so specific as "See about launching mini versions of the System into space", so much as "Do something big, help us divest"."
"What did she mean by 'divest'?"
After a moment's silence, Why Ask Questions leaned forward, set her drink down next to Codrin's, then picked eirs up instead. "Come on. Can you believe that, in all of the years that I have been coming here, I have never actually seen the bottom level of the parking garage? I bet that it is full of rats and unexplainable puddles on concrete, reflecting harsh lights. I bet it is all sorts of murdery. Bring your drink."
She winked at em, and with that, the interview was over.
The other skunk drew her knees to her chest and folded her arms across them. "I think you may be right in that. Let her do what makes herself happy while her shade remains."
"I wonder if she knows it, yet," True Name said, then let silence fall again. The two sat together, watching as afternoon slid carefully into evening.