Diary of a Teenaged Mimic

Dear Diary,

”All fixed set patterns are incapable of adaptability or pliability. The truth is outside of all fixed patterns.”

- Bruce Lee

Y’know, I never really read anything by Bruce Lee back in the day, but the quotes I’ve seen here and now hit home, and they hit home hard. I dunno if that’s because dude was just wise enough to say things plainly enough for a dumbass like me to understand, if he and I have compatible dumbassery, or maybe, just maybe, there’s some kind of Dao of Awesome Shitkickery that’s just the right kind of thing for my brain to process. One way or another this one definitely hit home.

Seriously, I want to find the truth for a million different reasons. To be a better parent. To be a better partner. To maybe get why those words are anagrams, even if being or having an immature spouse is kind of shitty. To be a better fighter, a better leader, a better Goddess. Maybe even to be a better person. But I definitely want to find it, and it’s been really rough for me when I keep searching, but keep falling short.

Humans, and I’m including human adjacent things all the way up to and including gods in this one, are pattern recognition machines. Lately, it seems like the only pattern I recognize is me learning, and trying, and striving, and finally getting close to maybe understanding things, then failing in the most spectacular way possible. Like, I’ve begun to think understanding enough about anything to be a decent anything is just beyond me. But then this. This, this, this, holy shit this. If truth is ephemeral, or situational, or whatever, maybe the reason I keep falling short isn’t that I’m not trying hard enough, or not worthy, but because it’s always changing. And when I finally think I’ve run it down, I stop trying, and everything falls to shit. I mean, yeah, if I grab that shit with both hands, maybe I can take a break now and then, but I gotta stop thinking that ’oh, found truth, check that off, I don’t need to try any more’.

Just somethin’ I gotta keep in mind, I guess.

So yeah, apparently Marie picked up the basics of acupuncture a thousand years or so before coming to Phileo, and she’s refined it since then. Not, like, a dedicated area of study, but when you’re immortal you can get pretty fuckin’ good at even your side hobbies and shit. She even agreed to teach me, which I am saving for next time my naughty little Kitten starts making Penance noises. Still don’t want to hurt her, but it’s not like they actually make Real Dolls here for me to practice on, and I trust Marie to be a good enough teacher to stop me from actually injuring her. Okay, doing more than the superficial shit she’s been doing to me for the past couple which, I’ll point out, have left me all endorphin floaty for the cost of maybe needing a little iron in my diet. Fuck, if I’d bothered to get some Healing afterward I wouldn’t even have scars. Not that Marie left enough to notice, what with the whole fuckin’ roadmap plastered around my body. Frankly, the only reason my face is still mostly unscarred is pretty much because shit flying at my face triggers my duBois honed ’duck’ reflex.

Last night... Last night deserves a very special kind of hoo boy. Hero’s reward, part two. Toys. All the toys. Some of that leather is a swing. Some was a very special kind of belt. Saffron got adorably cranky about my whole ’playing my birthday toys first’ comments and declared that given my inhuman Endurance, that would no longer be possible after they were done. It is, in fact, no longer possible. Although I need to ask Conrad to replace one of the littler fascina. No, we did not break it. Apparently one of my extended moments of obscenity salad included the phrase ’sword swallowing’. Saffron lost her grip on the handle. When I bit her fingers. So now there’s a gap in the headboard until we get a replacement.

Guess I’m extra special glad for the oubliette of a digestive system at this point. Sixth is still sixth from either direction.

Mimic dreams including Marie turning the Poor Little Match Tentacle into Cole slaw make a weird kind of sense now that I realize her claws are capable of more than just mass destruction or anything rhyming with that. Chibi chef Saffron was a no show, but after her performance through the evening, I’m gonna say she earned the break. The chibi beans have split between telekinetic massage and a return to itty bitty shrimp throwing. Well, ’throwing’ is how it started, ’getting slurped up by overenthusiastic tentacle maw’ is how it went, but honestly they just taste so good.

Woke up to snuggle fest, and whispered to Marie, ”do you know any good bean recipes?” She nodded, and I settled in to enjoy the warmth and closeness.

When I disseminated myself after lunch, one of me pulled Menace, Liam, and Maze aside. ”You ready to start reading again, Maze?”

We’d finished Shepherd’s Crown yesterday, so I was totally unsurprised when she said, ”I think so.”

”Cool! Menace, can you sort out which of the kids want to listen? I don’t mind if they change their mind one way or the other, but constantly in and out is disruptive and a no-go.”

She looked at me, then walked over to Maze and stood in front of her, arms akimbo. ”You play wif us Freyday.”

Maze looked down at her, tilted her head, and said, ”Wotansday, since you’re being such a princess about it.”

Isnomi thought about that a moment, then said, ”Ah-tay!” and glomped her big sister around the waist. Maze returned the hug. Not sure, but somehow I think that might be a lot better way to declare agreement to a compromise than just a handshake, y’know?

At that point Liam asked, ”but... doesn’t Maze play with us every day?”

Maze and Menace shared a look, then broke down laughing. Maze was still chuckling when we sat down on the Lancaster House suite bed to read to the refugees and the kids who wanted to hear the next part of the story.

Menace, of course, was starting another round of tag with me as Maze refereeing. I’m pretty sure she’d absorbed some more local kids for her posse, but fuck it, it’s not like there was any lack of play space in Lancaster House.

At that point I had two of me in Lancaster House, one in our Academy suite office playing seat cushion for Saffron, and one playing stress ball for Marie where she kept watch. ”Mittens?”

She nodded, squeezed and rolled her claws across me in a way that made me go limp, but I waited until she said, ”Yes?”

”Could you maybe start telling me what each of these spots are supposed to do? I mean, I think you’re definitely doing some next level combo style shit, but I really wanna get this right for Saffron.”

She slid her hands up near my neck, pinched in a way that made my whole body go slack, then picked me up by the scruff and ran her tongue up the side of my face. ”Same.”

We spent most of the rest of the day with her saying shit like, ”numb,” followed by poking me in a series of spots that did just that; made some part of me from a finger to a limb just... go numb. Most of the day, but I’ll get back to that.

One more of me hopped over to the Lancasters and said, ”Bonnie, Larry, can I talk to you for a second?” They nodded, and I stepped the three of us to the Heir’s living room.

”What can we do for you, Commander?”

I shrugged. ”Not so much what you can do for me, Larry, as what you can do for Bonnie, and what both of you can do for your maybe new Lancasterites.”

Bonnie caught on immediately. ”You’ve found us a nursemaid?”

I shrugged. ”Sort of? Nursemaid, nanny, bodyguard.”

”A Maenad?”

”More like Maenads. At least two of them are interested.” Both of them looked a little surprised, and that drifted into concern.

Larry broke first and asked, ”how shall we pick between them?”

I nodded. ”Don’t.” When he looked confused for a moment, I explained. ”Look, we’ve got to get the Maenads and refugees into semi-permanent accommodations before the fall weather hits, right?”

Bonnie nodded in turn and said, ”I almost wish I could get them all in tonight. There’s a storm coming in.”

”Leave the doors open. They’ll come in if it’s bad enough to put the kids in danger. Just... don’t close them in. Let them come in their own time, and don’t make them feel trapped.”

”You make them sound like wild beasts, Commander?”

”Larry, if you had to live in the wilds because Spartans had been hunting you, personally, for being a Lancaster, for three and a half centuries, do you think you’d really retain any fucks to give over shit like ’cutlery’, ’underwear’, and ’small talk’?”

He sighed. ”Fair point, commander. Bon-bon? Do we have the coal to keep the entryway warm?”

She pulled him in to a hug. ”I’ll figure something out.” Then she turned to me. ”But... about the nursemaid? Nursemaids? How will that work?”

”They’re pretty well self-organizing, especially if you convince one of the Academy Maids to stay on. I’m pretty sure if they need replacements, one or two of the newcomers will find a place they can tolerate working in the Academy basement surrounded by other Maenads. So just... take them all in. Maybe put them on rotation with your little bundle. Maybe have one in charge of each of them, if you’re gonna have more?”

She pulled Larry’s face around to look at her from a distance of about half an inch away and breathed, ”what do you think? Want to put another... bun... in... my... oven...?” She punctuated each of those words with a little kiss, each one lingering a little longer.

”Commander? I... er... uh...”

Bonnie smirked and, her forehead never leaving Larry’s, glanced over at me. ”What my dear Larry is trying to say politely is, I think, fuck off. Unless you wanted to join in? What’s that really stupid phrase, Larry? Prima Noctis?”

”Little late for that,” I choked out.

She laughed and pulled Larry down so she could look right at me over his head. ”Oh, no! Leftovers!”

”Yeah, I gotta get over to my time with Loki today, so I’m gonna have to take a rain check. Thanks for the offer bye!” Those last few words came out in a rush as I stepped to Loki’s to avoid Bonnie’s blouse, which Larry had kinda flung any which way in his haste to get it out of the way.

”Kitten?” I whispered to the Saffron on my lap.

”Yes, love?

”I think Bonnie just chased me out of the Heir’s suite.”

She laughed gently. ”I remember that phase of pregnancy. I was angry for nearly a whole month. Possibly two or three. It got a little fuzzy for a bit.”

”Oh, shit. Are you gonna be angry at me for a whole Season when I get you pregnant?”

I adored the little pouty moue her lips set into. ”I don’t know. Are you going to keep me celibate for months while I’m craving sex?”

”Why the fuck would I do that? Will you being pregnant make me stupid?” After a second’s thought I asked, ”why were you pissed?”

”I wasn’t about to hook up with someone again, had no partner, and couldn’t reach. Infuriating.”

”I solemnly Vow that, whether or not you are pregnant, I will perform the spouse’s duty of reaching things you cannot.”

”Such a sacrifice.”

I laughed. ”You don’t want that?”

”Oh no. In fact, I Vow in turn to reward you in kind.”

I laughed along with her. ”Good thing. No idea if I’ll be able to reach or not.” She got all quiet, and I said, ”what, I’m gonna be getting you preggers, you don’t want to return the favor?”

She sighed. ”Of course I want to, love, but while there are tales aplenty of Deities impregnating Mortals, the reverse are fairly thin on the ground.”

I whispered in her ear. ”I have faith in you. My Priestess? Make it happen.”

”Is that a command, my Goddess?”

I froze. ”Uh... wow. Holy shit. I really, really want it to be. I’m kinda surprising myself with how much I want it to be. But yeah, no, not unless you want it to be, too?”

She shrank a little in my arms. ”I... I fear failing you.”

I lifted her and spun her around to face me, straddling my legs. ”I have no fear whatsoever, Kitten. I have absolute, unquestioning faith in you. Take as long as you need, do whatever you need to do, but so long as it doesn’t hurt anybody else?”

”Yes, my Goddess?”

I leaned my forehead against hers and whispered, ”when the time comes that we’re ready to make babies together? Yeah, I hereby command you. Im... preg... nate... me...” With each syllable I paused and pressed another brief kiss on her lips.

Yeah, she needed a break from coding anyway. Never thought an Academy chair’s indestructibility would be quite such a useful feature.

Meanwhile back at Loki’s, boss-man leaned his chin on his palm, elbow on the table. ”Co-Located for the day again?”

I slid into my chair and mirrored his pose. ”Ayep.”

”Die this week?”

”Nope.”

He sighed. ”Well, that’s something. Anything interesting happening?” I let the grin from Saffron and my current shenanigans slip across my face, and he rolled his eyes and laughed. ”Anything I should know about?”

”Marie’s teaching me acupuncture. Kinda using me as a training dummy at the moment to do it.”

He frowned a little. ”That... could have complications, given your Divine nature, hers, and both of you being Psychopomps.”

”Oh. Fought some Undead. Didn’t die at all, though. I don’t think? Nah, pretty sure I didn’t.”

He sighed, then chuckled. ”Well. Do you think perhaps you can take a break, all of you, at some point during the day, that I might reassure myself that my Daughter has not, in fact, done herself a mischief?”

”Sure. I’ll have everybody take a break at lunchtime.” Then I shook my head, a frown replacing my smile. ”I kinda lost my shit on some Spartans.”

”Did you want to talk about it?”

So, there in Loki’s cave where time flows oddly, we talked about it. Under his patient, persistent questions, I spilled every gory, humiliating detail. I mean, I wasn’t humiliated at the time. Far from it. I guess given everything I’ve seen or done since I got here, I really shouldn’t have been humiliated by any of it. But, y’know, he’s my dad.

But then, maybe that’s what I needed, I think. There are like two people in the world I’d feel safe talking to about shit turning me on so bad I couldn’t think without it, y’know, turning me on so bad I stopped thinking and did them there on the table, and I sure as shit wasn’t going to discuss that kind of thing with Larry. Especially not with Bonnie in a ’the more the merrier’ kind of mood. So we talked. I might have cried a little. I might have cried a lot. We talked for minutes, for hours, for days, for years.

With a nice little break for lunch in the middle. Marie and Sigyn brought tarts. The little pastry kind, not the street corner kind. Loki complimented Marie on her acupuncture skills, because apparently both of us having the same Divine Psychopomp nature cancelled everything out and wound up with it just working more or less like normal acupuncture.

Really glad the Undead seemed to have taken the day off, because by an hour after lunchtime I was about as self-motivating as an actual inanimate stress ball. My Murder Mitten’s got Skills.

Endorphins good.