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Count the blessings...

A ten-hour shift today. And on the walk home I called a certain best friend of mine. Geeking over the database, general geeking, and me having a few words to say about work...

It's one of those things. The electricity's starting to trickle back in. We need regular, steady contact. This time it was around 35 minutes.

His mother -- his mother -- sees him in a state of perpetual grouch. And as much as I describe him as being a perpetual grouch -- he's not a perpetual grouch to me.

It's so very nice to have someone there for Naomi, someone we all trust. I think that's a large part of how it's working so well now. I inherit from Shanna and Joan-prime. Marah has divided -- it's Naomi(Marah) and Dagger(Marah) now, and Joan-at-work built on a steady base of Marah, Marah, and more Marah.

I have a bizarre vision of a future, where -- this is the sort of thing that gets you tagged as crazy, but if it does work out, and Darkside does come to realize how very much he does care for the lot of us -- he matches very well with Naomi. We've known for a while that Naomi is heir to us all, and the way we do things, it's not a fading-out, it's a melting-into. There are divisions. There are always new divisions. And we're Loonie more than Azz on the inside anyway.

I can get away with talking about the Collective to him in certain ways by saying "my inner geek" instead of "Naomi". He was made dreadfully skittish, once upon a time, and we don't wish to do that to him again. There's really no public perception of the multiple as benign. It's always a Crazy Reality Show House With Psychoes In!! rather than my quiet reality of a quartet of kind of wacky roommates with the same kind of roommate issues you always get when it's four girls together and who the hell was supposed to do laundry and wasn't that my attitude and you're wearing it today and weren't we going to vote on what color the carpets were supposed to be because who the hell got PINK?! There's a lot of giggling. There's always a lot of giggling. It's sort of like college dorms, except with less backstabbing and more RA.

He evades getting introduced to everybody formally, because names make him skittish, and make him feel like there are strangers he hasn't met, but one way or another, he's met everybody. It doesn't matter who's out usually, but we've noticed that he's a little nervous with Marah-who-was, stiff and formal like Dagger, by turns tired and excited and annoyed with me-Azz and Joan-at-work ... but oh, he opens up for Naomi.

So. For him. As we've done before. Except this time, to the observer, there probably won't be much change. Inside, it feels like a white rose bursting into bloom.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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