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Diary of a Teenaged Mimic
Day Four Hundred And Twelve

Day Four Hundred And Twelve

Dear Diary,

"If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything."

- Mark Twain

Mister Clemens, that's a clear sign you've never had to deal with a gaslighting asshole. Because just because I'm telling the truth doesn't mean the other guy is, and if you're dealing with that flavor of shitlord, they're gonna spew bullshit with such devoted conviction that unless you've seared the actual events into your memory, you will absolutely wind up believing that you imagined shit. It only gets worse if you know anything about how shitty human memory generally is, because sure as shit once you know that, you realize that you could have misremembered the whole thing. Fuck, then there's the goddamned Mandela effect, where you and a bunch of other people remember something that flies in the face of every bit of evidence in the world regarding what you're talking about.

I mean, yeah, I get it, if you make a habit of telling the truth, you don't have to remember what you said, because, y'know, you've been telling the truth so all you gotta do is check the facts. Worst case, you were wrong, and you apologize and move on. Okay, worst case you're a dumbass who is perpetually wrong, but then you learn to stop saying authoritative shit.

Of course then a bunch of people decide you're a Goddess and make you a Queen and Champion and General and won't stop listening to you no matter how often you tell them that you are an utter dumbass and in no way capable of leading cats out of a sack, let alone an army made up of troops from six cities, four different command structures, and at least eight or nine different cultures. Because if you try to tell me that 'Phileo' and 'Lancaster' are the same culture, I'm gonna tell Potami you said that and sit back with popcorn. Laughing will be involved. Pointing and verbal mockery are likely as well. Pretty sure the Jotnar had their own thing going on in their fishing villages separate from the Thralls and Karls and Jarls as well.

So yesterday I rubbed Orla's nose in some facts she really didn't want to smell by bringing General Hargreaves and Artemis as witnesses to testify that I am, in fact, shit at lying and had told her nothing but the truth about Apollo, Garland, and the Plague. After that, she blabbed everything she knew about the Undead order of battle and dispositions. I pretty much just sat there in the cell with her, nodding when she hesitated. I'm not sure if she wasn't sure whether I would be upset by her talking, upset by her not talking, or if she needed to be sure I'd protect her from 'The Master' if he felt some kinda way about her switching sides. Again, really, since she started out a newbie Calverton Hero, then became a Death Knight, and now was kinda sorta on track to become a Calverton Hero again. She was definitely an Alliance asset, and would be staying in the brig until such time as I could be sure she wouldn't turn on us or wind up getting shanked by some over-eager Jarl.

Maybe fifteen minutes into the interrogation, I stepped one of me just outside the brig and pulled Artemis out of the room, guiding her up to the deck. "Where were you when Marie found you?"

"With Dionysus in Phileo," she replied just as quietly as I'd asked.

"At that little diner on South Street?" She nodded, I took her hand, and stepped her there.

When I led her inside, Dionysus looked up from at least a half dozen self-mobile rugrats on and around his lap and called out, "thank the Fates, you've returned."

She stepped forward and sat at a table next to Dionysus', only to be swarmed by the kids. "Where'd those come from?"

Artemis nodded toward the kitchen. "Two are children of the staff here. Two are friends of theirs. Most of the rest are friends of friends or similar." She paused, then lashed out lightning fast to snag one who'd been sneaking up to grab the dangling ends of her blindfold. "This one, however, I found sleeping on the street one night. I've returned her to the temple every night since, and yet she continues to find her way back here."

I stepped over, lay my hand atop her head, then ran it down one side of her hair until my palm covered her ear. Then I leaned in until my mouth brushed against her other ear and breathed out, "good girl," before I collapsed back to the me listening to the interrogation.

Right about then General Hargreaves looked at one of the Thralls and said, "keys."

"No."

He froze. "As you wish, Majesty."

I sighed and said, "look, right now she's singing like the proverbial canary. Telling us everything we want to know, at least as well as she can remember."

"I swear to you, Lady, I am!"

I slumped. "Yeah. Yeah, I think you are. But really? Not only am I a dumbass who could be conned by any half decent actor, which you might be," I held up a hand to forestall her interruption, "but even if you're telling us every little thing, there's still a possibility that The Master or one of his Lich flunkies could, I dunno, reactivate that mind control mojo they have over all the Undead."

"I..." She stopped, slumped. "I understand," she whispered.

"Yeah, I'm not sure you do. I'm not, repeat not, gonna leave anybody locked in a box forever. I'm not even real comfortable with keeping you in here right now, but that's just me, and I gotta shut up and soldier. But you remember what I told you?" At her confused look, I explained, "if I want you dead? I'm gonna kill you. You've been cooperative since I pulled your head out of your ass, so if I or the Imperator or somebody else I trust decides that you have to die? I'll tell you, and give you a chance to, I dunno, pray or put your affairs in order or say your final words, and I'll make it as quick and painless as I can. Or do it however you want it done so long as it's not gonna put anybody else in danger somehow. But for right now?" I waited until she cocked her head. "I don't want you dead, and don't think you need to die. Get it?"

She looked utterly lost, but replied, "I... understand, Lady."

I shook my head. "Can we keep it to 'Champion', if you can't just call me Tabitha? Fuck, I'll take Diaz at this point."

"As you wish, Champion."

I nodded, nodded again to Hargreaves, and leaned back in my chair to let the conversation flow over me. To be honest, I didn't really focus on the interrogation the whole time. Even watching Saffron's coding windows through her eyes while I played seat cushion was less painfully boring than listening to the two of them hammer out where she'd last seen every fuckin' Undead in Calverton. Sure as shit listening to Maze read The Shepherd's Crown beat it all to hell. Oddly enough clinging to Marie while she absentmindedly mauled me with her off hand should have been boring, but for whatever reason when I focused there the tidal bore of endorphins flipped the creative switches in my brain.

As the sun hit the horizon, some sailors arrived with dinner for the guards. I looked over and said, "she gets dinner too. Same as anybody else at this point." The two guards made to hand their dinners in; I took one, handed it over to Orla, then shook my head. "I'm fine, I'll get dinner back at home. But even if we've got to keep her locked in here for everybody's safety, that includes her own. No torture. Got it?"

"Yes, Majesty."

I sighed, shook my head, and collapsed back to the me on the mast. A blast of Happy Brain Chemicals, not to mention maybe a little bit of lightheadedness from constant blood loss, hit me again. "Mittens?"

"Vlickies."

"You mind staying here with me until bed time?" In answer, she pulled her hand away, licked it clean, then carefully put the binoculars back in their case and hung it from a convenient hook. Then she twisted me around to her front, leaned back against the mast proper, and purred as she set to mauling me some more. "Oh. Uh... you've been nursing some of those kids, right?" She nodded. "Good." She raised an eyebrow, but I just grinned, shut the fuck up, and enjoyed how her mauling ramped up half a notch.

If I were a normal person, I'd say I chowed down at dinner, because that's how I do with fried chicken tendies and waffles, but I'm me. I scarfed down my own tenders, a couple of Saffron's, plus a few more leftovers from the rest of table, plus another serving Marie brought out for me special. Plus a big fuckin' bite of waffle, because Lancaster House waffles are good. I mean, all but a few bites of waffle that Menace and Maze teamed up to steal wound up in Saffron's belly, but that's just the proper disposition of anything sweet.

After we got everybody in bed, I collapsed the two of us on the mast to our little room, pulling a Saffron in as well. "Finally, your reward." I shook my head, and she rolled her eyes and groaned.

"Nah. In a mood. Feeling... creative." Frustration and curiosity danced in her eyes, so I whispered, "tomorrow. I promise." Frustration evaporated, leaving nothing but my Kitten eagerly awaiting my nefarious schemes. I looked up at the red-clawed Marie with us, ran a hand down her front, and said, "you haven't collapsed in any of you that have been nursing, have you?"

"No."

"Bring one," I sang, and a second Marie joined us. This one was just a little more buxom, and there was no fuckin' way I could miss the extra nips down her front. "Together." She collapsed into herself, and I slid my hand down her front as slowly as I could while I asked, "so tell me, Murder Mittens, do all those nipples of yours get sensitive when you're nursing?"

My gaze had followed my hand, and when Marie didn't answer, I looked up to see her eyes crossed, a tiny bit of drool painting her fur at he corner of her mouth. "I think you got your answer, love."

I laughed, and when something approaching coherence came back into Marie's eyes, said, "guitar."

"Oh, you are evil." When I looked at Saffron just a little sharply, she smiled and said," in all the best ways, love." At my raised eyebrow, she explained, "I would never have thought about using the nursing sensitivity like that."

"Did it with you."

Her eyes widened. "That was on purpose?"

"Happy accident."

She slid up next to us, rubbed herself against me and purred. "Very happy."

I sighed. "I'm gonna need you with me on the Black Dragon tomorrow to talk to Orla."

She got a comical pout at that. "I'm going to miss you 'playing Marie like a guitar'?"

I smiled down at her, scooped her in for a kiss, and when I finished looked down into her eyes and said, "maybe some later bits. But only because we do unto you like you did unto me last night."

"Oh. Well. Oh. My. Uh..."

I laughed. "When the war is done and we have time, I'll be sure to arrange an encore concert just for you."

"Yay!"

I sat down on the edge of the bed, pulled Marie down to lay across my lap, ran my hand up and down her front, then frowned. "No, this just won't do." I gently lowered her to the floor in front of me, then got up and pulled the saddle out of its drawer, setting it next to me on the bed. I looked at Marie, nodded, and she started to climb into the saddle. I shook my head, twirled my finger around, and her eyebrows shot up, but she turned her back onto me before settling in. I pulled her backward across my lap, admiring the way her back arched, her elbows holding her shoulders just off the surface of the mattress. I looked up at where Saffron had settled onto the divan, smiled, and said, "oh, no, you can't possibly hear this properly from over there."

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She stood and sashayed over to stand right in front of me, and I spread my hands across Marie's front as Saffron leaned across her to kiss me. One hand slipped around Saffron's waist, and when our lips separated I said, "yeah, Marie?"

The vibrato in her voice spoke of the strain I'd put her under to maintain the arch. "Yes?"

"Oh, Mittens, does that hurt?"

"Yes?"

I gently stroked her front. "We can stop."

"NO."

I grinned over at her. "Are you anywhere near your limit?"

"No."

"So... push?"

The grin on her face told me everything I needed to know. "Okay then. You've got better things to do with your arms than that." Her shoulders thumped to the mattress, I hoisted a squeaking Saffron above her proper seat, and asked, "how fast can you put her to sleep?"

"Not."

I paused. "Not what?"

"Guitar."

I laughed. "Okay, yeah, but guitar sounds cooler than 'zither'."

She snorted, her eyes fluttering as she caught wind of the treat I'd dangled above her and said, "Psaltery."

I rolled my eyes, looked at Saffron and said, "guitar, zither, psaltery, none of them ought to be talking. So your job is to shut her up for as long as you can." Then I took one more look at Marie's beautiful face and said, "and yours is to make that as short as possible," before covering it up.

Then, because I'm just the kind of cool musician to, y'know, have an electric psaltery, I reached over, poked a few buttons until my... uh... amp warmed up, and got to playing. Interesting bit of trivia; when played properly a Maenad psaltery doesn't speak either, but the sounds coming out are almost like a cello. Also, the Worship of a properly played Maenad psaltery can keep me up all night and leave me pleasantly refreshed in the morning.

In the bathroom, when Maze came past for toweling, I pulled her in close enough to murmur, "ready to start reading for the group again?"

She thought about it a second, then said, "can I finish Shepherd's Crown first?"

I smiled and said, "sure thing, Horse Girl."

So after breakfast and a quick check in with Anna, I split into one of me refereeing for the kids, one of me sitting with Maze reading Pratchett, one of me clinging to Marie like a limpet while she scanned the City, and one of me in the Academy office settling into the chair, about to pull Saffron onto my lap.

Right about then she shook her head, thwapping me a couple times with her pony tail, and said, "while I do enjoy this, you needed me with you for further interrogation of your converted Death Knight?"

"Orla."

"Orla then." She paused, humming. "Well, I suspect I'll need to concentrate enough on that that I won't be able to work here anyhow.

"Aw."

She looked over her shoulder at me. "You can't tell me you enjoy sitting here watching me work that much."

I grabbed her ass, squished just a little, then slipped my hands to her waist and pulled her down into my lap, wiggling her waist to squish her butt against my thighs. "You feel good on my lap. You smell good. You make the cutest little humming noises while you're thinking. You wriggle when you get excited because you just figured something out. Even your hair feels nice against my face. What's not to love?"

She twisted around and leaned into me, pressing her forehead against mine. "You like it that much?" she breathed into my mouth.

"Yeah."

She swallowed, "you... you promised tonight."

"Yeah."

A Grin stretched her lips. "Won't... won't this make it worse?"

I answered her Grin with one of my own. "Oh. Yeah."

"Well then. Let's get Orla's interrogation over with so I can get back to my very important Shaping research." Funny, what with us being in absolute agreement, we didn't leave for at least like twenty minutes after that.

When we dropped to the deck of the Black Dragon, I remembered something from the day before. "What did you say about research yesterday?"

Oh. Yes. Unfortunately, I've found a possible description for your condition, and... what I'd intended might not work.

You mean the exposure therapy?

Yes.

But... it might work, right?

She sighed. It could also hurt you, love.

I shrugged. "Fuck it. We ball."

"Does that mean what I think it means?" I nodded. "Ooh, so I can begin tonight." I shook my head. "Why not?"

"Promised my Kitten something about rewards. So not tomorrow night either. Promised her that night too."

She looked up at me, a little confused. "When?"

"Just now."

She laughed through her frown. "I'm going to make you regret that, you realize."

"Am I going to enjoy regretting it?"

She laughed again. "Knowing you? Probably."

I nodded sagely. "Fuck it. We ball."

We stepped into the brig laughing, Saffron snuggled up under my arm. I stepped us into the cell, and Orla hopped to her feet. "Champion."

I nodded toward her bunk, said, "go on, sit, we'll probably be here for a while." Then I dropped into my own chair, pulling Saffron onto my lap.

Orla looked a little uncertain, but moved to sit down. Halfway there, she froze as Saffron snarked, "oh, sure, don't introduce me. I'm just your lap candy?"

I looked away from Orla to see Saffron had folded her arms and had on her best 'annoyed now make it up to me' look on. "Oh, no. You're not just my lap candy. You're my favorite lap candy."

I almost got Orla with that. Saffron was made of sterner stuff, and set her mouth in an annoyed little moue. "You could at least introduce me, rather than leaving me as just your unnamed doxy."

I glanced at Orla, then at her bench. Her butt hit the bench and I said, "Orla, former Death Knight, once and future Hero of Calverton, this is my very favoritest person in the world, my wife, my therapist, my Imperator, and most importantly right now, Archmage twice over Saffron Aetos-Diaz. Archmage, this is the Death Knight I un-Undeaded."

When I said 'Imperator', Orla leapt back to her feet like the bench was a hibachi grill. Before I even finished the second half of my introduction, Saffron waved her back down, saying, "Please, sit. With my wife running the meeting, your legs will give out before she's done trying to get into my skirts from flattery alone."

"I can do that?"

"Well, considering you don't need the flattery at all, of course you could."

"Aww..." I snuggled her, glancing at Orla and pointedly glancing at her bench again. "Okay, Orla. You were a Warrior before the Plague, right?"

"Well..." she temporized as she gingerly sat on the edge of her bench-bunk.

"Look, correct me if I'm wrong. I'm used to that shit when I think I know something, and right now I'm not sure I know anything. Go on."

"The term in use for melee focused Heroes in Calverton was... is Knight. Not Warrior. To differentiate us from the more numerous Archers."

I nodded. "Okay. Cool. So you're a Knight?"

She paused a moment, then said, "if... If it pleases the Champion and Imperator to treat me as such still. Although I was, technically, a Mage-Knight."

"Weird. Are you guys actually cavalry?"

"Are we what?"

"Never mind." I cocked my head. "So... mostly Mage with a little Knight, mostly Knight with a little Mage, or half and half?"

"The middle one. I had not the temperament to study enough to become a proper Mage, but I do have the Sight, and I learned enough to cast a few Spells, to create a few Mana Shapes. Mostly I studied non-Spell Shapes that could enhance my Skills."

I chewed on that for half a second, then asked, "the other dude with you. He didn't seem to respond to my offer to un-Undead him. Was he just a dick who liked the Death Knight life, or...?"

She paused, her gaze drifting off to the wall as she thought. "I'm not certain, but... he never hesitated when a Lich gave him orders. He never seemed bored, or like he wanted to take the initiative and attack the Trolls when they overextended. I'm certain I could have taken out at least a squad or two before they responded, at the cost of only a few Zombies at worst."

"Zombies? The basic bitch Undead, the ones that just kind of shamble around unless they see somebody with a pulse, or a Lich is driving them?"

She nodded. "Exactly. But like I said, he didn't seem to have those same impulses to squash."

"Why didn't you tell the Lich about the opportunities?"

She shrugged. "He was an ass, forced me to silence the first time I tried."

I put my arms around Saffron. "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin?" When she hummed noncommittally, I said, "The only ones who we've seen with any kind of self-direction are the Liches, who were Mages before becoming Undead, and Orla here, who was in part a Mage."

She nodded. "I had noticed that."

I took a deep breath and blew it out. "Okay, Orla. Part of me really wants to get you back on the front line, show the rest of them that somebody can be saved from Undeath." She practically vibrated with eagerness, and I hated to squash that, but... "That's not gonna happen, though." When she deflated, before she could ask, I said, "your protection and theirs. If anything goes wrong, you'll get blamed."

"I deserve it."

"Oh, you gonna betray us?" Her gaze shot up, but I interrupted her reflexive denial. "Didn't think so. But they will. Unless you do, you don't deserve shit. You got dealt a shitty hand, and when somebody offered you a new one, you took it. Even when I had to burn your Soul and twist it inside out to give you that chance, you took it." I sighed. "Yeah, maybe you'll have to prove yourself a lot, and you'll get a chance to, but for now? You're staying here. More reason than that though."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I get that this hurts to hear, but you might just be some kind of awesome actress, and The Master sent you to fuck with us. Or maybe you're playing straight with us, you really do want another chance, but you're some kind of poison pill The Master sent to fuck with us without you knowing it, which would make him even more of a bastard, but anybody who dumps every baby in the City into a pit to fuck with us is bastard enough to do any other bastardish thing I can think of." I waited until she nodded, then said, "finally, at least the final thing I can think of, is... can you guarantee that whatever mojo that Lich used to control you is gone? That The Master couldn't reach out and take control of you?"

"I would fight him!"

I shook my head. "Yeah, I get that. Wasn't even questioning it. But can you absolutely guarantee that he doesn't have enough of an in with your Soul, your mind, or your body to jostle your elbow, to make you hesitate at just the wrong moment?"

She slumped. "I... I cannot."

I nodded. "Yeah. Okay. So you get why I can't send you back to the front?"

"Yes."

"Okay then. The reason you're staying here, in the brig of the Black Dragon, is that this is probably the best protected, securest place in the Alliance right now. You've got two or more guards watching you at all times. To make it clear, even if you wanted to? Right now you can't do shit."

She slumped until her back leaned against the wall behind her. "I understand."

"Good. D'you know what you can do? Especially since you trained at least a little as a Mage, so you know the lingo?" She perked up. "You can answer questions to help Archmage Aetos here figure out if there's some way we can disrupt the Liches' control over the rest of the Undead in Calverton."

"Aetos-Diaz, Goof."

"Woof."

We spent the rest of the morning grilling Orla about her time as an Undead, specifically what she noticed about the Liches. Okay, mostly Saffron did. I just sat there playing booster seat and enjoying the feel of her ass on my thighs. I'm a simple woman, I feel squish I press like.

Okay, when we went back to the office after lunch, I felt squish and grabbed boob.

"Well, just distract me while I'm working why don't you?"

I went still. "I'll stop?"

She huffed. "A question before I decide whether I'm going to be mad at you for starting or mad at you for stopping?"

"Sure." My hands moved on their own at that point. Totally didn't tell them to or anything. Also, I'm lying.

"Will this make tonight better or worse for you?"

I thought about that for a minute, my leg bouncing on its own to add to wifely jiggle physics . "Both." At her inquisitive hum, I said, "Totally gonna make me think about it the whole time I'm sitting here, but since I'm not gonna get to go any further than this it's gonna be totally frustrating. So since I know you're gonna tease the fuck out of me now that I've told you that, it's gonna be so. Much. Worse. And that's totally gonna make it so... Much... Better."

"Who says you won't get to go any further?"

"Uh..."

"Your hands stay on me. As you might say, this is excellent training for my ability to focus despite distractions." With that she started moving her hands through the air. A quick glance through her perceptions showed that she was, in fact, working on some entirely new Shapes.

"What do I get if I actually, uh, interrupt you?"

"Oh, you want further rewards, my Champion?"

I shrugged, enjoying what that did to her perception of my hands. "Hey, I'm also your personal trainer today, so, yes please?"

Her coding never stopped as she huffed and said, "fine. Every time you make me stop working for more than ten seconds, I add ten minutes to your torment tonight."

"Uh..."

"Ten more deliciously agonizing moments between each of the times I make you spout that lovely word salad, my love."

I snugged her back against my chest and growled into her ear. "Buckle up, buttercup."

I have no idea what freaky 'concentration' skill she's got going on, but three times out of seven she didn't even stop working, let alone for ten seconds.

When we finished for the night, she made me feed her dinner, bite by agonizing bite, at the dinner table with everybody including the kids watching, so I couldn't even, y'know, feed it to her erotically or anything. By the constant Grins she shot me, not to mention the ones Marie added when she delivered more food, that was absolutely deliberate. She took her fuckin' time about bedtime, too. By the time she yoinked the three of us to the Love Shack, I was, as Beetlejuice says, 'anxious'.

She shoved me back into Marie's lap where my favorite Maenad sat on the end of the bed, then nodded. "Three."

Marie's arms wrapped around me in a suspiciously identical configuration to how I'd been holding Saffron all afternoon. I squeaked out, "Three?"

Saffron nodded and asked me, "you know I listen to you almost constantly, right love?" At my wordless nod, she asked, "you don't consider that an invasion of privacy? Two."

I swallowed, thought about how to respond, and then in the spirit of 'fuck it, we ball', said, "Invade me. Two?"

She smiled at me and stepped forward, reaching to cup my face in her hand, but at the last second reaching up and sliding her palm across Marie's cheek instead. "Beloved Marie, you deserve to know that our Tabitha has postponed our wedding..." Marie whined just the tiniest bit. "Until she acquires the Skills to properly consummate our union." Happy Marie noises replaced the whine. "One."

I trembled as I said "Are you trying to wind me up with that whole countdown thing, becauhahaha..." I lost control of my mouth for a moment as Marie interrupted me with one strategically placed finger. "Totally fucking working. Working very well. Wound. Wound tight. Holy shit."

Saffron stepped forward, molding herself around Marie's confining arms, pressing herself against me around them, and leaned her mouth next to my ear. Then with two syllables, just half a word, signaled Marie to set my ecstasy induced involuntary profanity stream loose.

"...pation."