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Diary of a Teenaged Mimic
Day Four Hundred And Fifty-Four

Day Four Hundred And Fifty-Four

Dear Diary,

"Egalitarianism,

To be judged for who you are,

Not judged for your origin."

Doctrine of Tabitha, Book of Egalitarianism

I think this one's gonna take a lot, and I hope I can cram everything I want into it. People hear about the idea of egalitarianism, of equality, of equity, and the typical initial response is 'yeah, treat everyone equally'. Trouble is that we're fuckin' not, and any five year old can tell you that. Saffron's smarter than me. Marie's so much more Skilled than me it's silly. Siobhan's just genuinely nicer than me, or come to think of it anybody else I've ever known. I'm really glad she seems to have enjoyed the inevitable conclusion of our date, because I'd hate to think I ruined something that should be so special for her, because she of all people doesn't deserve bad things to happen to her. Menace is younger than me. Maze is better in front of crowds, for all that she's shy when she's not in front of one. Bonnie's prettier than me. Larry... okay, maybe that's why I was willing to make him my Champion. Nah, now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure he's faster than me.

But with the exception of Siobhan, none of those have any kind of moral component. Shit, I kinda wonder if just being sweet tempered is moral or not. If you never actually get the urge to rip a motherfucker's tongue out through his asshole, are you a better or worse person than somebody who gets that urge and then doesn't? Serious question, because I'm supposed to be the Moral Compass, and I sure as shit don't know. But what I do know is that thinking about that kind of shit is important. If you're trying to figure out if somebody deserves a pat on the head or a kick in the ass, everybody gets that you've gotta look at what they did, but you also gotta look at why they did it. Their situation, their whole everything. Like, okay, if Karen broke into a building on a cloudless day in August, there's a legit chance she did so because if she didn't, she'd fuckin' fry like a human shaped strip of bacon. Meanwhile Andre Lands? That super dark skinned dude? Not so much on the turning into a lobster. Of course, he'd still need shade from the heat, maybe, or some water, so that's a really fuckin' bad example, but I didn't know that until I started thinking about it. Which kinda proves my point, you gotta think about nuance when you're applying consequence.

I mean, for most shit. You see somebody killing babies, and... Fuck, not every fucking person in the world can stop fucking time and do what I do with infants who are tryna die. Not even every fucking Deity can do that. Shit, as far as I've seen, the only people active when I do that are me and Dommy Mommy Domnu, and unless I ram my hand up her ass and work her like a puppet, I don't think she's gonna be saving any dying infants. So yeah, if some poor dumb bitch of a High Priestess has a direct line to her Goddess open, and some grieving parents come up and say, 'our baby is gonna die', and neither you nor anybody you know has the mojo to fix her? Yeah, when you can literally ask your Goddess to make sure she gets to the right afterlife without any problems, maybe euthanasia is the right fuckin' move.

Fuck. Where the fuck is the line? I don't fuckin' know. But again, what I do know? Is that there is a line, and looking for it is important if you want shit to be fair. You gotta look for that nuance. You gotta be the best person you can be, and give other people the benefit of the doubt when they aren't. But you also gotta make sure that when they aren't, and they fuck shit up, that they are the ones who wind up cleaning up the mess. Or at least that they are part of the clean up crew, if they just wound up epic levels of unlucky.

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Motherfuckers who exploit others for personal gain definitely fall on the far side of that line, though. Ones who get self righteous about doing it because of the origins of the ones they're exploiting? They're gonna get extra special attention from me. Or maybe not, maybe I'll just yeet them to Niflhel or Tartarus. There's value in having a specialist do a job, y'know?

So yesterday I had the extremely unpleasant privilege of having my Soul ripped out of me and spread across a couple dozen cubic meters. Then my lovely ladies, my dad, and my son took extensive notes on the curse I'd been whammied with, while cursed me tried not to scream too much. Or whine so much that it disrupted them, because I might be a moron, but I understood that the best chance they had for fixing this bullshit was them figuring out who did it. When they finished, I discovered that having Conrad's machine suck my soul back into my body, some of it going into the machine itself, stitch me back together along my plethora of handy dandy 'cut here' scars, then pump my Soul back into me hurt worse than getting flayed and having my Soul ripped out of me in the first place.

Fortunately, Marie stood behind me with her hand atop my head through the whole procedure. Once the machine had me stitched up it rotated me back around to lie supine, Saffron stepped up and took my left hand, Siobhan stepped up and took my right. I don't know if they made it hurt less, but just having them there helped me focus on them rather than the agony of having the me stuffed back into me. I lost track of time, but I know at one point Siobhan yawned.

"Goddess, I'm so sorry!"

Saffron shook her head, slowly. "Do not apologize for being Mortal, Sister. The fact that you are, yet stand here nonetheless? Is a tribute to your devotion to Tabitha."

Their fingers interlaced across my belly, and I couldn't bring myself to ask them to move, even though it hurt like somebody had dropped a hammer on my abs.

The moment Conrad turned away from the machine's controls to remove the suction cup from my crotch, Saffron and Siobhan scrabbled at the others, while Marie pulled the cuffs off first my wrists, then my ankles. By the time she finished, and I'm not sure she left them in completely operable condition, the others had the rest of the connections undone, and Marie lifted me gently and strode out of the Workshop. Moments later she lay me in our bed, and before I could really get my bearings, she slipped something into my...

Tiara in place, I groaned out, "Smite. For the love of all that is holy and good in the world, Smite me until I can't form words, please."

My beautiful petite paramours, both light and dark, did exactly as I'd asked. Saffron was a little faster, but they both whapped me with Smites until I lost count. Sweaty Saffron leaned against equally sweaty Siobhan and almost panted, "better, love?"

I groaned out something and lifted one thumb, which prompted Siobhan to gasp out, "Tabitha!" The feel of mint flowed over me a second later, right before my Ice Pop's cool face planted itself in my abs.

Wha?

"You've bled all over the sheets, love."

Ah, shit. Sorry, Marie.

"De nada."

You need to move me or something?

"No."

That was good enough for me. I lay there for a bit while Saffron leaned on Siobhan. After a bit Marie pushed her cart in filled with bath supplies.

Dunno if I can get in the bath, Mittens.

"Still."

She spent the next I don't know how long sponging me clean. Eventually she got to where Siobhan lay snoring, her head still pillowed on my abs, and went to move her. Can it wait?

She looked at me, one eyebrow going up. Then she nodded and moved past where both my littler ladies lay listlessly snoring and sponged the rest of me clean. When she finished she pushed her cart out, then looked longingly at the bed. Get over here, you adorable fuzzy freak.

She grinned at me and crawled onto the bed, maid uniform and all. Right about then I stopped hurting enough to feel the sun going down. Ah, shit. What day is it?

"Saturnday." Then, as the sun slipped below the horizon and the room went dark, "Sunday."

"Oh. Good. I'mma take a nap now."