Dear Diary,

"If you find joy in someone,

Tell them that to share your joy,

But do not obligate them."

Doctrine of Tabitha, Book of Ecstasy

This one's definitely a can of worms, one that I'd rather leave closed and walk away from, but that's not the mature adult thing to do when you're responsible for shit. Like, yeah, 'not my circus, not my monkeys' is definitely a thing. If you're not the person ultimately responsible for shit, it might even be the right thing to do if everybody involved seems like a consenting adult and you're not really interested in consenting to that particular activity, adult or otherwise. But in this particular case, what with me having the Domain of Ecstasy, and so many people finding their deepest source of euphoric joy in their partners or kids or whatever, it is in fact my circus, which gives me a Duty of Care to the monkeys therein.

To start with the positive on this one, I absolutely find joy in my kids, in my partners, in Siobhan and Marie and Saffron. Oh, fuck do I ever find joy in Saffron. She is absolutely the person who makes me forget how much I've hated myself for so fuckin' long. That's not to say I don't find joy in the others. I... don't know what I'd do if I lost her. I mean, I try real hard not to 'lose her' in the do something so stupid and offensive that she walks away and never comes back sense. What with literally Reviving people from death like Siobhan and I did with Devorah I don't think I can lose her that way. But if I did? If someone some asshole Deity did something to her that meant she was gone, out of my reach forever? Other than 'turn the Deity responsible' into the world's largest arm bangle for my spikiest tentacle, I'm not sure what I'd do after that. I mean, I'd go on. I've got people who need me. I think I'd even keep trying be a better person, a better Deity, a better Mom, a better partner, just because not doing that would dishonor her memory or something. But I'm not sure how badly I'd fuck it up.

Of course I'd fuck it up. Have you met me?

But I've told her I feel that way about her, I think she feels the same way about me. Marie finds joy in caring for us, in wifing for us, it's pretty fuckin' clear. Gotta find the right time. Christmas, maybe? Wait, do they do that here? What else do they do then? Yule? Anyway, Siobhan clearly finds joy just being around us, being our playful little bed toy, even though we all know she's more than that, but that's the role that makes her happy, so we all let her play it. So the whole idea of finding joy in others, and having them find joy in us in turn, isn't inherently a bad thing.

But... then there are other times. Like, parasocial relationships brought out a lot of the kind of thing where a fan found joy in their chosen celebrity, but then took it a step further and, when the celebrity didn't reciprocate, lost their goddamned minds. Like, telling somebody 'omigod, I'm your biggest fan, you bring me joy'? Well, shit, some not insignificant portion of the celebrities out there became celebrities for just that kinda feedback. Gaga even sang a song about that shit. Hell, the more honest, braver ones might even reply with 'hey, fan, I see you, your joy brings me joy' or some shit like that. A kind of positive mutual cycle, less intimate but no less joyous than the ones I have with my fam. But then some fans take that next step and say, 'oh, hey, let's make babies', and while the lead singer is gonna say yes for tradition's sake, and the bassist might do so out of the sheer novelty of being asked, not every person on the stage wants to get with a groupie. Plenty of them are not socialized well enough to say 'oh, hey, thanks, flattered, but my doctor put me on a no-groupie diet' or some slick anti-rizz like that. Some fans lose their shit right there. Others are like, 'cool, no problem, just wanted to let you know that my vajayjay is open any time should you have need of one, I'll be cheering from the stands'. Even with the groupies who get their fill of Jagger's baby batter, where the healthy ones might cling to that shit like a polaroid or a really hot stripper's panties, a sleazy yet fun memory to be take out and embarrass your grandkids with, some of them start making wedding plans. Again, if you've got that good grippy grippy in the v, maybe you'll get them to charter a flight to Vegas, and maybe all that shit will work out, but more likely they're gonna give you the rest of the vodka, and you're gonna wake up in the motel room alone.

So yeah, I gotta put something in there that while being ecstatic about somebody else just, y'know, being can be cool, and letting them know in a non-possessive way can make somebody's whole day, it will not in fact always make their hole weak to penetration. So, y'know, Joy? Good. Honesty? Good. Shared joy? Great! Treating people like property, even well loved property? Bad.

Speaking of sharing joy, definitely got some urges in the direction of some very physical joy sharing as the sun went down on yesterday. Then the wife and I got interrupted by a very quiet, nebbishy mental voice welcoming me back. Which is really weird, since I didn't think they were referring to our visit yesterday.

Hello? I sent back, since I saw, like, nobody except Saffron anywhere nearby.

Then a lump of dirty rock on the far side of the weird pattered dirt from us unfolded into a very familiar Octopus, one I'd last seen minutes before the shooting started at the Aquarium. Chosen.

Dude! Long time no see! How you been? Along with the mental words and the motion-imagery, I sent memories, images of the octopus enclosure at the Camden Aquarium. I realized right then that if I'd aligned myself right, the pile of dirt and looping red lines sat just about where the big fake treasure chest had been in the octopus enclosure. Always seemed kinda cheesy to me, but I figured it was a spot the octo could hide if she wanted, or maybe some kind of shell hiding monitoring stuff, or some other kind of way of disguising something necessary but not picturesque.

I got back something not entirely unlike a chuckle. I also realized that my little octopus buddy was somewhere between 'nervous' and 'scared shitless'. Forgive me, Chosen, but that was not me. I... met you here, when the Dragon attacked.

You. You were the smaller Kraken who accompanied Tabitha... who led the Chosen to the Dragon attacking the Aquarium! Trust my Kitten to help out when my fucked up, fucked with memory failed.

I am that one.

Keeper? I asked.

The little guy... gal? Wriggled, spun, like she didn't know what to do with her arms. No! No, no, no, not... well... They slumped, I guess. She... The Keeper is gone. I was her... apprentice? Caretaker? Servant?

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Friend? The octopus shrugged. Which is a pretty strong expression when you're made of shoulder. So... you were here that day. Was she?

That... they slumped. That was her final act. Her finest moment.

Can you show me?

I... they shuddered. I can.

Will you?

Must I?

I stopped. Thought for half a second. Shit. You could show me, but what happened with the Humboldt... with the Hunter will happen?

It is... possible. Likely, even.

I could try to be gentle?

I... I'm sure you would. But it's not that. You're so... large.

That threw me for a second. So... if I were littler, you'd be less scared?

Of course, but... They stopped talking as I focused on my shapeshifty bits and just... shrank. Littler, littler, until I was maybe twice the size of the octopus in front of me. Is this okay?

All of their arms had gone limp, and just kinda dangled to the bed of the enclosure. You... would lessen yourself for me?

I want to know what happened to the Keeper. I don't want to hurt you. So... mini-me. I jetted over, just outside of tentacle reach, and lifted two tentacles. I would like you to show me, if you can do safetly.

They extended two arms. One went into my siphon, just in enough to say it was there. The other slipped into my mouth, sliding in until it felt just a little weird. I reciprocated, my tentacle slipping into their siphon, which felt really nice in a lubricated love tunnel kind of way, the other sliding into their mouth until...

The Keeper and I sang the song of impending loss, the song every Kraken, true or not, knows from birth, the song our mothers sing to us, with us, the song of the end of giving, the song of receiving the final gifts. Her charge, which would never be my charge, because her life was, after seasons, after lifetimes, after eons, finally coming to its long, painful end. So we mourned, cradling our charge in our arms, enduring the faint burn of the chains binding her, ignoring the subtle poison of the wood enclosing her, ignoring everything but the faint song we knew could not reach her. But sometimes, the Keeper had told me, one does what one does not for others, but because we hope that someone would do the same for us were the situation reversed.

So we sang, and sang, and sang. The song of impending loss is long, as one might expect, and has no proper ending. It ends when our mothers do, as is right and proper, and we sing it once more when we become mothers ourselves. I knew not how the Keeper knew her charge yet lived, so I sang while she did, as long as she did, though that might break me, because while I might not be a True Kraken, I was the Keeper's companion, and I would accompany and support her or die trying.

Her voice stuttered, slipped. Went silent. Then she gasped out, she didn't... Then she turned to me, imperious and beautiful as she drew in every ounce of power available to her. Guard me. Let none near. Let none interrupt. Should any try, end them.

I shall end them or die trying!

No excuses, little one. End. Them. She turned back to the mighty chest, bigger than I was by far, and assaulted it. The chest she'd been set to watch over, to guard, and she attacked it with the berserk frenzy of an entire shoal of Hunters. Tentacles and arms both ignoring the burn of the chains to shake them, to rattle them, to loosen them just the barest margin. She wrapped herself around it hammered her beak into the gap. I longed to help, to make a difference, but her words drove me. I circled the Keeper and the box as she tore into it. Just as it seemed she might be succeeding, that there might be the slightest gap, something above the surface of the water exploded. Surface people screamed, screamed so loud I heard it even here in the depths, and something roared rage and defiance and hunger. I sucked in, preparing to spend my life ending whatever it was...

Power. Power blasted through the water. Power enough to stun me, leave me jetting in a small, stunned circle, the Keeper and her box sliding through my field of view. Power that had only just caught me in its edges. She glowed as she shoved her beak into that gap, her thinnest tentacles writhing in an attempt to get inside before... before... She slowed, stilled, the glow disappearing.

Something floated away from her, away from the box. I darted in to see what it was. A body. Maybe the screaming surface dweller. I looked into its eyes... I lost myself in its eyes, so like my own. Identical to my own. Just like the thing floating in my arms. I stared, not understanding, but I reached out and touched my fellow. Come! We must defend the Keeper!

I found the Dragon. I attacked it with all my might. All for naught. Then, just before I succumbed, she was there. Larger than a True Kraken, shaped like me, and so full of rage as to be incoherent. Where I'd barely inconvenienced it, she...She demolished it. Shattering its limbs, squeezing it until it burst, then crushing it to a pulp and burying it beneath the silt at the bottom. Then, with a rush of power, she was one of the surface people again. Entirely out of her element, bubbles flowing from her mouth. I had no idea how to help her, but I knew surface people needed to be on the surface, and she was sinking. I grabbed her, jetted for the surface, and flung her to the shore. I saw others there moving about, helping the fallen. I'd done what I could.

I rushed back to the Keeper, still frozen as she embraced the box. I reached out, hoping that maybe I could wake her gently.

The moment the tip of my arm brushed against her, she fell apart. Starting with the point I'd brushed, she sifted away in the current, fading to dust as I watched. Her bones, falling away from her disintegrating flesh, fragmented when they hit the riverbed. Within seconds, only her beak remained, wedged between the box and its lid, holding that thin crack open. Deep within the box, something moved.

I... didn't know what to do. I settled in to watch, to stop any who might interrupt the Keeper. I didn't know what to do, so I sang the song of impending loss...

I slipped away, blinking, as the vision from the little octopus faded. I was reminded right then that the 'little' octopus had to be at least twice the size of the Humboldt squid. Still half my size, and I'd shrunk myself down to less than half of what I'd started at. What happened to the chest?

They blinked. Y... you. You returned, Chosen, and finished what the Keeper started. Destroyed the trap imprisoning you, freeing your greater self. Beginning the Song of Impending Loss of All Worlds.

That did not leave me copacetic, but that wasn't this guy's fault. Why did you stay?

I... I still guard this place, as my Keeper bid me to. I guard the memory. I sing the Song of Impending Loss. I... They paused, and I waited, doing my best to project comfort, calm, acceptance. After so long, I am home here.

You want to stay here?

I... I should find something else to do. The Keeper is gone.

I knew what I wanted to do. I just didn't know how. Kitten?

Of course, love. She reached out, reached through me, and touched the little one hovering beside me. As one, she and I grew. She shifted, writhing, until we three Kraken all hovered there above the final resting place of one of our own, buried in the remains of Mimic's prison.

No. She's not. I reached out, stroked her mantle gently. Someone very special gave herself, body and soul, to save me, to free me. You greeted me here. This place is special... is holy to me. This is your task, Keeper. Any may enter. Any may look. Any with ears to hear may listen to your tale. Save I say otherwise, none may touch.

If they do?

Warn them well before they do. If they touch without intent, eject them. If they try to touch with intent? End them.

With that, I wrapped my arm around Saffron and teleported us back to the Bay, then jetted us away toward the open ocean until we had some privacy.

Love?

Yeah. Um... You wanna?

She writhed toward me tentacles wrapping around and arms slipping into surprising places. Or maybe the other way around. I thought you'd never ask.

Yay!