Diary of a Teenaged Mimic

Dear Diary,

Fucker got what he fucking deserved. Don’t @ me.

Same dream last night. That one itchy spot got itchier, which I didn’t think was possible, but what the fuck do I know. Maybe I’ve got a rash or something.

Woke up to the menace crawling into bed with me. Might not have woken up, except she was completely dressed, and the outside of the jacket fabric is more than a little scratchy. Maybe it wasn’t a rash, but some kind of allergy to the sheets? Wait, when were the sheets last washed? I sat there contemplating that, unable to drift back off, until Marie stirred.

”Hey Marie?”

”Yes?”

”How often do the sheets get washed?”

She shrugged. ”Weekly?”

That didn’t seem too bad, really. Way more often than I used to wash them back in Camden, anyhow. Don’t give me that look. Detergent’s spendy, and I’m lazy.

So when Marie got up I slipped out of bed, letting the menace stay under the covers for the moment. I debated wearing my uniform for the day, but I felt like I needed something to combat my deepening funk, so with Marie’s help I pulled on The Dress’ boots, then put it on over top them. With the panties today, because immunity to cold or not, I didn’t want to risk freezing my bits off.

With both of us dressed and ready to go, I carefully peeled back the blankets away from Isnomi. She curled into a ball, but when I lifted her by her armpits she cracked her eyes open just enough to grump at me. Then her eyes went wide as she took in what I was wearing. ”Mama priddy!”

”Aw, thank you, Menace. You ready to go with Marie today?”

She shook her head, ”wan see Siggy.”

I sighed. I wasn’t really up to momming today, but you gotta do what you gotta do. Besides, I suspected between riding Mr. Slither around on the ceiling and getting made much over by Sigyn, I wouldn’t have all that much to do. ”Okay, then, Menace. Hugs and kisses for Marie.”

Once we’d both given our Maenad her morning farewell hugs and kisses, Marie did her five-point harness thing around Isnomi, held her up to her face, and said, ”Behave.”

”Ah ga dis.”

I just shook my head, collected the menace, and headed for the Dining Hall.

We got there just after the doors opened, and with Lancaster missing and obviously still down for the count, I took my time eating. Okay, it’s more accurate to say ’we kept eating mass quantities until the Maids kicked us out.’ I poked my head into the Headmaster’s office. ”Just checking, is Cadet Lancaster still sick?”

Headmaster Miles nodded, then asked, ”will you be okay on the wall, or should I assign you some help?”

I shook my head. ”Don’t worry about it. I can handle it.”

He nodded. ”Be careful. Hero Velazquez tells me his scouting unit never returned. Them staying out overnight might be attributed to following a lead, but we’ve gotten no messages from them.”

I said, ”I’ll keep an extra special eye out for them. Later, sir.”

I stepped to Loki’s cave, then Co-Located myself to seven separate spots on my section of the wall. I’d noticed yesterday that six left some of the approaches through the trees a little less than covered. For a moment I debated switching over to my coat, but the bracing breeze kicking up snow definitely kept me awake and alert.

”Hey, Boss.”

”Good Morning, Tabitha. I take it from your presence here you don’t want to practice today?”

I shook my head. ”Not really. Today’s the deadline, I kinda want to keep an eye on Saffron, if you don’t mind?”

He nodded to me, then looked to Sigyn, who was busy tickling Isnomi. ”Could you please, dear?”

She one handed her bowl, a reminder that despite looking like a normal, if divine of ass, human, she was still a Norse god. She walked off and straight up through one of the walls; at least that’s what it looked like out of the corner of my eye as I unlocked Loki’s arms by rotating the stalactite tops and pulling them free. ”These give you any trouble, Boss?”

”While I could wish you had freed me entirely, I cannot complain about the vast improvement in my living conditions.” Sigyn stepped back in and, one hand holding it by the edge, set her golden bowl down beside Loki’s thigh. ”Would you like me to show you how to do this?”

I shrugged. ”Sure.”

Much like Saffron, he wove Mana in glowing strands I could observe; when they settled into the bowl, the surface of the water got staticky for a second, then cleared to show Saffron organizing units picking up what looked an awful lot like rafts with safety rails sticking up along the sides. He then passed a hand over the bowl and the water went staticky, then cleared so I could see the bottom of the bowl. ”Now you try. Just picture the one you seek to scry on in your head.”

I wove the same Shape, and it hung in the air a moment before I mentally pushed it down into the bowl. When it submerged, the water went staticky again, then cleared to show Saffron still working; it looked like she had each unit that came through picking up a single raft.

”What are they doing?”

It only took me a moment to figure out the answer to Loki’s question. ”Pontoon bridges.”

”Pardon?”

I shook my head, still staring at Saffron. I loved watching her work, and somehow her not knowing made it even more special. I have no idea why; maybe she just looked different when she knew I was watching. In answer to Loki’s implied question, I said, ”each unit is gonna carry a raft, and when they get to the river, they’ll drop them in and connect them together to form a floating bridge.”

He frowned. ”Not a very sturdy bridge.”

I shrugged. ”It’s not really intended for more than one use. So long as they don’t capsize, they’ll still float, too, so worst case a couple units get washed downstream.”

”Fascinating.” After watching a while, he said, ”I wonder if you could hang nets from those.”

”Why?”

He smirked at me. ”Among my other accomplishments, I am a patron god of fishermen, because I invented the fishing net.”

”Y’know, I’m pretty sure they have fishing nets in places you’ve never been.”

He gave me a ’really, Diaz?’ look. It had been so long since I’d gotten one I kinda missed it. ”I didn’t learn it from anyone, and none of my followers knew how before I figured it out, so I invented it.”

I nodded. ”Fair point.” Then I went back to watching over Saffron.

As usual, Loki’s cave screwed with time. Before I knew it, Saffron stopped for lunch. Hey, Goof. How goes?

I smiled as I watched her lips move just a little while she chewed. Not bad, Kitten. At Loki’s today, on top of being on the wall.

Isn’t that a bit distracting?

Eh. The view’s nice.

She snorted a little, then went back to eating. Of course you’d be staring at Sigyn’s ass.

I looked around at a shrieking giggle, only to see both Sigyn and the menace dangling upside down from Mister Slither as he crawled across the ceiling. I really shouldn’t have been surprised she could clench her thighs around Mister Slither tight enough to keep herself from falling. Honestly I haven’t been.

So what have you been doing today? More cleaning? Running errands?

I’ve been learning how to scry.

At that, she looked around until her eyes fixed on the scrying point. She smiled as she continued eating. I realized right then the difference between when I was watching her and when I wasn’t. When she knew I was looking? She smiled. So cute. I looked over at Loki.

”Is there a way to move the point of view?”

”The scrying point should follow your mental commands, although it will always have the same center point, the person, place, or object you’re scrying upon.”

I zoomed in on Saffron’s smiling face, then pulled back until I could see all of her where she sat, tailor fashion, in what had been General Lancaster’s personal pavilion, but had been repurposed to be used as a planning center. Apparently they’d gotten the hint that a big old tent was like a lit sign saying, ’Commanding Officer Sleeping Here, please do not murder’. I have no idea where the General and the Marshall were sleeping, but at a guess I’d say in one of the little pup tents like Saffron and her unit.

She finished eating, stood up and dusted crumbs off her uniform, then walked over to stand next to General Lancaster and Marshall duBois, who both were still finishing their lunch. I rotated the view a bit, and saw Potami standing on the far side of the pair, also waiting on them. The Marshall laughed and nudged the General with his elbow. ”Looks like we’re holding up the show, Leonard.” He pushed himself to his feet, then reached down to give General Lancaster a hand up. Saffron did so at the same time, and I noted that Lancaster took her hand rather than Marshall duBois’. They might work together with the City in danger, but it had become increasingly obvious they didn’t like one another much at all, and more than a little of the dislike was on Lancaster’s side of the equation.

The four of them left the tent and made their way first to the edge of the forest, then to a tent set in the middle of the field. It looked smaller than the one they met in before; then again, that one was way oversized for eight people, and it looked like there wouldn’t be more at the meeting today. Again, the sides were held down, but the notional ’front’ and ’back’ were open. The tent had a single table set in the middle of it, with four chairs on the far side and a bench on the Phileo side of the table.

”Well. That’s petty,” said the Marshall.

Lancaster shook his head, then said, ”Cadet Aetos, could you take the center, please?”

”Of course General.”

”Thank you. While wearing my clerical garb under or over other garments or armor has become second nature, I still have some troubles sliding sideways on a seat without it riding up something fierce.”

Saffron smiled up at him, with more than a hint of a smirk to the smile. ”I’m familiar with the phenomenon, although I don’t have to worry about it while in uniform.”

”Speaking of, I thought you would be wearing your own clerical garb?”

She just shook her head as she slid sideways on the bench. ”I’ll switch if it’s needed.”

”Oh?”

”A gift from the Goddess.”

The four of them sat there, pretty clearly trying to avoid looking bored or otherwise discomfited by the seating snub and being left to cool their heels. The far side of the tent had two normal chairs, one gilt throne-looking thing, and one fancy marble camp stool, the kind of thing a pompous general might have, just to show he was ’better’ than everybody else, like his ass was too good to sit on normal wood and fabric.

The fucking ’Damn negotiators left our four sitting there waiting until the sun was well past midday; when I spun the view around enough to get a view of the city, I caught a bunch of glare from the sun; some time soon it would be shining straight into the open Newark side of the tent. Apparently the final river twisted around at this point, leaving our troops facing west toward Newark’s gates, as weird as that seemed. I panned around to see that the big killing field was bordered on three sides by the river, with Newark’s walls just beyond it on all sides. I really hoped we could end this peacefully, because charging through that area looked like a surefire path to suicide.

Oddly, I only saw a few token soldiers atop the walls. I decided to take that as a good sign. As I panned around, I noticed a pillar of smoke rising to the sky from behind the eastern portion of Newark’s walls. In the far distance, out beyond where the river met the sea, I could just barely make out what looked like a ship, and I only saw it because it, too, had a line of smoke rising from it.

I don’t like this, Kitten.

I’m sure they’re just posturing, Goof.

I dunno...

At that point the drawbridge in front of Newark’s main gates started to ratchet down, exposing a massive pair of doors on the far side. What with New Amsterdam being a big trading city, and their best cropland being in what I thought of as their chunk of New Jersey, I imagined those doors stood open more often than not. The drawbridge sped up as it lowered, until it slammed into the ground with a resounding crash. At the same moment, the gates cracked open, and one of my seven selves watching from Camden Yard’s walls saw a tiny, thin smudge of smoke rising from the forest to the east. I heard something else, something almost drowned out by the sound of the crashing drawbridge, the creaking doors, and the rising portcullis. Something odd, almost like Vulcan, but he rode on Saffron’s back in his case.

I pulled my scrying point back out of the tent and panned around, trying to figure out what the other sound had been. When I got high enough, I noticed a veritable sea of blue and orange on the far side of the gates, and something else beyond them, a single wooden post, huge enough I couldn’t make out individual soldiers standing next to it. I pulled back further, frantically trying to figure out what I’d heard.

I almost missed it in the glare of the sun; a chunk of something airborne, headed for the tent in the middle of the killing field.

I Co-Located into the tent, mentally screaming, INCOMING! and throwing an image of what I’d seen to Saffron.

I almost made it in time. I glimpsed Saffron in the act of reaching out to either side of her, and then tons of rock slammed into the tent, obliterating the me inside along with everyone and everything inside.

Pain shot through every one of me, but pain wouldn’t stop me. Without a word I leapt back to the same spot I’d been killed. I stood atop a huge chunk of white marble, large enough that only a few scraps of fabric showed that there had once been a tent there.

Bloody fabric.

”No.”

In the distance, figures in orange and blue streamed out of the gates.

Pain ripped through me, pain at being too slow, too weak, too little, too late.

”No!”

To the north of Camden Yard’s north wall, figures in orange and blue streamed through the trees.

Loss cut at me. In one instant they’d stripped me of everything worthwhile about me.

”FUCK!”

Tabitha, are you...

Rage engulfed me.

Not. Fucking. Now. Boss.

Mana Blades extending from my hands, my elbows, my knees, my feet, I stepped into the crowd of orange and blue. Eight soldiers died before they knew the battle had started. I stepped and split myself, and sixteen more fell. A low feedback whine cut at my ears, and I gave it exactly the zero fucks it deserved. I stepped, and split, and thirty two more soldiers died. The whine got louder, and the edges of my vision blurred. I stepped, I split, and sixty four more blue and orange bastards died.

Step. Split. Dozens more died, some with multiple lines carved through them.

Step. Split. Hundreds fell, the snow and blood churning the ground below to crimson mud. My Smith made boots gripped the mud as well as they gripped everything else.

Step. Split. Kill. A constant whine deafened me, my vision starting to tunnel. Step, split, kill, hundreds of orange and blue soldiers torn apart like they’d been thrown into a blender.

I’d made it inside the walls, made it well past the tree line. Soldiers near any of me turned and fled, and it did fuck all to save them. Step. Split. Thousands died giving voice to screams I couldn’t hear, splattering carnage through the streets of Newark, through the woods to the north of Camden Yards. Even my skin got into the feedback, painful pins and needles across all my bodies.

One of me got close enough to see that huge pillar being pulled back, saw figures robed in fancy orange and blue robes pointing staves at another monstrous chunk of stone. I stepped, and along with thousands more soldiers, I sliced through the twisted sinew of the catapult that had killed my love, that had left her beneath so much stone I couldn’t even get to her to Revive her. The energy in that sinew, enough to fling a chunk of rock the size of a short school bus all the way across the killing field, lashed out, shredding the robed fuckers surrounding it, breaking their staves, and turning the me that had wrecked it into a bloody pulp no bigger than the remains of the mages.

All of me screamed in pain, the sound so loud I heard it even through the feedback whine, but even that slight distraction reminded me. The real culprits weren’t the poor bastards I’d been killing by the thousands. The real culprits were the ’Heroes’, the ones in charge. Octavio. Oliver. All of me looked for uniforms different to the others. Some of me saw them, hiding behind their cannon fodder in the woods and in the city.

I stepped. thousands died, including dozens of the fancy orange and blue scum that called themselves ’Heroes’. I stepped again, and some of me fell to the orange and blue cowards hiding behind their minions. Dozens of them fell. The rest went back to back, threw up Mana Wards, started running. I stepped after them, and all the runners died. I stepped inside the Mana Wards, and mages died too fast to scream. I stepped above the pairs and trios going back to back, falling on them knees-first, spinning as I did, leaving julienned ’Hero’ in my wake.

Some of them turned fast enough. Some of me died. Pain ripped through me. Not enough. Never enough. I screamed again. A batch of ’Heroes’ formed a double lined square, the inner ones facing upward. Another mage tried making a Ward just large enough to cover himself. I grabbed up pikes from fallen enemies. I stepped, surrounded the mage, skewered him from all sides, left him dangling from a dozen pikes each planted butt first into the ground. The rest of me stepped around the formation of fancy dress motherfuckers. Hundreds of overpowered Fire Bolts tore into them from every direction, leaving nothing but ash blowing in the wind and chunks of long pork raining from the sky as some of the bastards exploded.

Some of me died from those same bolts. Pain rushed through me. I stepped, split, and a thousand more orange and blue minions died as I screamed, ”OLIVER!” My skin rippled with pins and needles feedback. I ignored it, and stepped, killing anyone who fled, anyone who stood, anyone still standing in orange and blue. Something glinted from the top of Newark’s wall. I saw the same glint from the top of a siege tower standing still on the path leading to Camden Yards’ north gate.

I stepped. Atop Newark’s wall, Octavio held up his hand, tried to step away from me, out of the steaming puddle he’d been standing in. ”It wasn’t me! It was Oliver’s idea! I swear!”

He backed right into me, and I carved an ’x’ from his shoulders to his opposite hips. I stepped forward and grabbed his head by the hair, holding it up as the light in his eyes died. ”You should have FUCKING said NO, asshole.”

I landed atop the siege tower, landed inside of it, landed clinging to the sides of it. Tens of ’Heroes’ died before they realized I’d arrived as I spun in place. Two of me died as Oliver spun to face me, but one of me stepped into the air behind him and fell, slicing through his ankles before stepping to spin through the rest of the tower, churning the bodies, cutting through supports, splitting one of the axles in two. Oliver had managed to keep his balance without feet, but when the tower itself tipped, he fell, toppling off the side. As he slipped off the side, four of me stepped to him, two grabbing at his arms. He pulled at me, whether to pull himself up or pull me down with him I’ll never know, because the other two of me sliced his hands off at the wrist. One of me leapt out and grappled him, stepping to the ground, slamming him into it, ramming a finger up each of his nostrils, then ripping his nose clean off his face.

I looked down on him, and the rest of me stepped, grabbed at enemy heroes, slammed them into the ground, kneeling on them with Mana Blades to their throats. When I saw hatred push him past the pain in his eyes, I said, ”if there’s anything you wanted to see, FUCK YOU, TOO LATE!” and rammed my thumbs into his eye sockets, ripping his eyeballs free and throwing them to the sides. He screamed, and I shoved a short, fat Mana Blade into his mouth, burning the bulk of his tongue away.

I grabbed him by the hair and stepped back to the tower above the gate through Newark’s wall. I dropped him next to Octavio, then Fire Bolted each of Octavio’s limbs. I then lifted that asshole’s head and torso by his hair, and ripping Mana from the Newark Heroes I’d caught, said, ”Revive.”

Mana seared through me, and Octavio’s eyes shot open. I pulled a dagger from Oliver’s belt, slammed it into the stone wall, and hung Octavio there by the collar of his shirt.

He looked down at the bloody, burned mess I’d left of Oliver and whimpered, ”my son.”

At the same time, the Heroes that I’d pulled the Mana from all struggled, some of them getting away, some of them dying in the process. The cannon fodder, realizing I was inside the walls, streamed out, headed for our Army. I stepped, split, and thousands died, some fancy, some not, some running through Newark, some fleeing through the forest north of Camden Yards. I stepped, split, and thousands more died. I could barely see them now, just killing anything orange and blue. My skin rippled with agony.

Then a single word, louder than thunder, louder than the impact that killed my love, louder than the feedback whine in my ears, echoed loud enough to hurt. ”STOP.” Fuzzy Darkness filled the air, and all other sound died.

I froze. Because that voice?

It was Saffron’s.

Thunder rolled, and those of me in Newark saw her, kaiju large and dressed in her High Priestess garb, striding toward a wall that barely reached to her ankle. She pulled her leg back and rammed one stiletto heel straight through the wall. She did it again on the other side of the gate, each time ripping her foot up to rip away a huge chunk of the wall. Some of the pieces fell amongst living ’Damn soldiers. Some of them even fell on me, not that I cared.

She spoke again, her words like thunder even though she didn’t shout this time. ”Your walls are breached. You have lost. Surrender, lie face down on the ground, and no further harm will befall you.” After a pause, as I saw ’Damn soldiers and even a few ’Damn Heroes dropping to the ground without care whether they faceplanted in bloody mud or bloodier stones, she continued, ”any who continue to fight will be executed like the rest of your army was.”

All of the soldiers dropped. Most of the Heroes did. A few raised bows, or spears, or wands, or staves, pointing in Saffron’s direction.

One last time all of me stepped, and dozens of ’Damn Heroes died. They took some of me with them, and pain tore through me as they did, but at the end of it no one from New Amsterdam stood on the field or as far as I could see in the City.

As the Grand Army poured forward, no longer needing their pontoon bridges now that we controlled the drawbridge, I stepped to Saffron’s feet as she shrank down to normal her sized, pulling all of me into the body in front of her and putting my arms around her leg, then her waist, and finally around her shoulders as she shrank.

Standing there with my arms around her, dripping with blood from thousands of cuts, dozens of them my own, I said, ”I thought you were dead.”

She looked around the field, where our soldiers had trouble walking through the churned up bloody mud. ”I gathered.”

”How?”

She reached up and ruffled my hair, having to stand on tiptoes even in her elevator boots to do so. ”Your warning. The difference between your height and mine.”

”The General? The Marshall? Potami?”

”If Hero Potami weren’t Hero Potami, she’d need new slacks. General Lancaster and Marshall duBois are still recovering after being Revived, but they’ll be fine with some time.”

I frowned, ”who gave the Mana for that?”

She smiled up at me. ”I was in direct physical contact with my Goddess’ form in Metaphoric Space, and she denies me nothing.”

I smiled down at her, a little woozy from the cuts all over me. ”Y’know, I still have no idea what happened, but... you’re here.”

”I am.”

”You’re alive.”

”I am.”

”We won?”

”You did.”

I blinked owlishly at her. ”You kicked over the walls.”

She reached up and lay one palm on my cheek. ”To convince them to surrender, before you killed everyone in Newark.”

I winced, my head spinning. Hey, Boss?

Yes, my Glorious Champion?

Did Isnomi see any of that?

A few bits where the battle wandered out onto the killing field, but no more than that. By the time you stepped away, there was naught to see but that hunk of rock.

Oh good. Do you and Sigyn mind watching her until one of us can pick her up?

We shall watch over your beloved and precocious child, gleefully in Sigyn’s case, my most Glorious Champion.

”Loki and Sigyn are watching the menace. I think...”

When I petered off, staring at her eyes, she said, ”that’s good to know, but what are you thinking?”

”I need a nap.” I collapsed into her, and I’m glad she’d had so much practice keeping my weight off the ground, because I blacked out before my head hit her shoulder.