Dear Diary,

Y'know, back before my mom died, when she'd been diagnosed and knew she was dying, but before she got too sick to work, she used to pull all kinds of crazy hours. I didn't get it at the time, why she didn't just stay home and try to get well. From what I could tell later, that's why I had that insurance money to live on after she passed. I didn't get it then, I wanted more time with my mom, not money.

I kinda get it now. Mom powers activate, I guess?

Nothing new on the dream front. Just trying to vibe and ignore the itching.

Woke up with each of us in our own 'bed', save Saffron, who's still with the Army. On the one hand, that means they haven't even seen enough of the enemy to make firing Vulcan worthwhile. On the other hand, they're getting really close to Newark, and if they don't see the Newark Army today, that means they've pulled back behind the walls. I don't remember too much about Military History, as compared to Mythology, but the one thing I do remember is how many people would die on both sides from dumb shit like dysentery. I hope the folks here and now have gotten better about latrines and shit, but given that indoor plumbing is still iffy, I kinda doubt it.

Then again, Vulcan will definitely make a hell of a siege weapon.

So I slipped out of bed in the early morning darkness and wandered over to Isnomi's little toddler bed. When she's asleep she's such a little angel. I mean, she's got her mom's dark curly-wavy hair, but other than that? She's almost the spitting image of one of those little cherubs you'd see in old paintings or modern religious holiday stuff. Then again, she's lost some of the baby fat already. Not all of it by any means, but enough that she no longer looks a little bit overinflated the way really little toddlers do.

From what Saffron said, she's maturing about half again as fast as a straight human kid would. She was born in late winter, so I'm guessing she's around nine months old, which would put her right around one and a half, I think? Mentally she's way ahead of that, because Saffron, because Blend, because Mor. I can't help but think how frustrating it would be to be, like, nearly an adult mentally, but still a kid physically.

Wait, no, I know exactly what that's like.

She stirred a little in her sleep, and I crouched down next to her and quietly sang that stupid 'hush little baby' lullaby she liked the other day. After a couple repetitions, I got the ultimate Mom reward; quiet little baby snores.

I'd focused so much on Isnomi I hadn't even thought about the third person in the room. Marie rolled over and kind of enveloped me; arms going around me, pulling me into her warm fuzziness. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," I murmured.

"De nada," she whispered back.

"Do you have to go to work yet?"

"No."

"Good."

We lay there for a bit, quietly reveling in the silence, the softness, the warmth of each other's bodies. It's weird; after days of dealing with the unholy freezing cold outside, the chilliness of the room didn't seem so bad. It definitely wasn't too bad with someone there to warm me up. Odd, I'd never really thought of quiet and gentle and Marie all at the same time, but I learned how much I'd been missing out. Afterward, as we both lay there, I snagged a blanket to drape over both of us, because even quiet and gentle can get a little bit sweaty. After a while, I realized Marie's melancholy expression mirrored my own.

"You miss her too?"

"Yes."

I scooched up until I could cradle Marie's head in my arms, then just lay there holding her for a while. I'm not sure if the moisture came from sweat or tears, but she squeezed me to her and didn't let go for a long time.

Eventually she shook herself and said, sadly, "Work."

I pulled her back around and kissed her thoroughly before letting her get up. At first she stiffened in surprise, but after a moment she responded in kind. Just before it turned into something that would make us both late for the things we had to do, we pulled apart by mutual agreement, only to hear, "silly mama," from the direction of Isnomi's toddler bed.

I sat up and looked to where she sat tailor fashion on her bed. "And how long have you been awake, little Menace?" She just shrugged and grinned. I shook my head and shoved myself upright, pulled the armoire open, and tossed her one of her little uniforms. "Time to get started dressing, Menace." I then modeled good behavior like Good Moms do and got myself dressed. Including panties, since she was obviously watching and thinking of not wearing them. She sighed and put them on before the rest of her uniform, which got a laugh out of me as I pulled my own slacks on.

Marie headed to her cart as I pulled my blouse on. "Same as yesterday, pick her up after breakfast?"

"Yes," Marie said, still with that melancholy smile.

I walked over and pulled her down for another thorough kissing before letting her go. "When this is all done and she's back, we're all missing a couple days of classes and work."

This time she said, "Yes," with a hungry twinkle in her eye.

I got back in time to remind Isnomi how to tie her shirt without making a huge Gordian knot out of it. So far she hadn't managed to make anything Marie couldn't untie with her Laundry Legerdemain, but I saw no reason to give her more work than she already had. The menace managed a passable bow knot, and then I showed her how to double tie it so it didn't slip loose. Funny, I'd never really thought about how to tie stuff like that until I had to do it behind my back, but that experience made teaching someone else that much easier, I guess.

So breakfast was breakfast. Six Cadets and one toddler, all packing it away like we'd never seen this mystical item known as 'sustenance' before. Today, instead of toddling around on the table, Isnomi stood at her mom's place and demanded stuff be passed to her. Little scamp made it work, too.

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"You guys never pass me food like that."

"She doesn't wipe out the whole tray," said Raven.

"She's cuter than you, too," added Angel.

"Oh, so I'm cute now?" I replied between bites.

"Nobody ever said you weren't cute," said Bill. "Just that you're scary."

"How can something be scary and cute at the same time?"

Fred answered that with, "Faeries," shuddering as he did.

Everybody seemed to take that as gospel truth, so I filed it away and got back to the Serious Business of eating. Right as the trays were running out and not being replaced, Marie came by to pick up Isnomi. I gave them both hugs before they trundled off on a day of carting and Marie things.

"Okay, see, that? That right there? Utterly adorable, and goddamned terrifying." Angel said as she and Bill headed out.

Today I decided to try my luck at finding Dionysus and seeing if I could get any more info on what was going on Underhill. About halfway to the wall, right about when Lancaster caught up to my sauntering self, I did Loki's co-location trick and sent one of me to South Street. Luckily, I'm not half bad at walking, so I only stumbled slightly until I got my feet under me. He gave me a look and asked, "first day on the new feet?"

"Yeah, no, I think I discovered yet another ice patch. I seem to have a talent."

He shot me a lopsided smile. "Yeah, you're full of those." His smile dissolved into a more natural Lancaster Frown of General Disapproval.

"Jealous?"

He just sighed, shook his head, and trudged on toward the wall. I followed, wondering what I'd said or done to warrant the shift back to the silent treatment. Other than, y'know, being unrepentantly me.

So, nothing new to report from the wall, although I've gotten good enough that Lancaster has to work to smack me with his sword. Which is a sentence that should be taken out behind the woodshed and shot on general principles. Swordplay is also burning its way into my muscle memory; enough that I could talk with people on South Street without pausing my practice dueling with Lancaster. Unfortunately, while I found out that he's around, and going by 'Den' or 'Denny' depending on the gender of the person talking about him, or maybe whether they've been sucked into his less clothed revels, I still had no idea where to find him. The folks who know him all pointed me 'thataway', with no two 'thataways' being the same.

Also, wandering around South Street in the freezing cold is weird, because the only people outside either look to be immune to cold, desperate for income, or serious adolescent-guy-hard cases. Weird thing, although not a bad one; apparently my clothes are duped along with me, because I still had my big fuzzy Lancaster hand-me-down fur coat. It did kinda make me blend in on South Street a bit, though.

Funniest moment was when I stopped to talk with someone who fell right in the middle of that Venn diagram of people braving the stupid cold; a cute, effeminate guy wearing booty shorts and a crop top who told me his name was 'Cherry'. I asked him about Denny, and he wound up talking my ear off with some really lurid details of Big D's latest revel, which Cherry had apparently attended professionally and vocationally. Right as he was using some hand motions to illustrate some improbable revel gymnastics, a dude in a hooded fur coat stepped out of an alley and said, "This guy bothering you, Cherry?"

"Nah, Boss." A really short answer for somebody as apparently loquacious as Cherry.

The new guy drifted close enough to speak quietly, and hissed, "I really hope you're not trying to snipe my employee, whoever you are."

It took me a second to get it, but when I did I couldn't help but bark out a bit of laughter, which did not help matters. Before he could go off, I said, "Wouldn't think of it. Just looking for Denny. Big guy, can't miss him, fills up whatever room he's in?" I looked at Cherry, "unless you don't want to be working for this guy any more?"

Cherry shook his head, "nah. Maurice's cut's fair, and he's never hung any of us out to dry when a mar... client does something they shouldn't."

When I asked the question of Cherry, Maurice's face went from suspicious to angry, so I pulled one hand out of my coat pocket, held it out to him, and said, "Tabitha Diaz, Freshman Cadet, High Priestess of Loki. Good to meet you."

He looked at my hand like a poisonous snake, but after a long moment reached out and shook, "Maurice Breedlove. Agent and manager for Cherry and a number of other intimate entertainers." He paused while we shook, and I saw his eyes flicker to my wrist, where the cuff of my uniform jacket stuck out slightly. "I gotta say, I didn't expect a friendly greeting from somebody in your line of work. Or is that the Priestess talking?"

I shrugged, and as soon as he let go of my hand returned it to my pocket, because even if I can't get frostbite the cold was massively un-fun. "More that if you're providing a real service for a cut of the cash, I got no problem with it."

He raised an eyebrow. "And if I weren't?"

"Then we'd have an entirely different kind of 'discussion'." I didn't bother to gesture or posture, I just let the statement stand.

He just stared at me for a bit, then asked, "and if somebody in my line of work came to you about a client refusing to pay?"

I shrugged. "Work is work. You do work, you get paid. Somebody doesn't pay, that's stealing. Which, last time I checked, is illegal."

That got a genuine smile out of him. "What I'm doing isn't?"

I shrugged again; the coat gave me the shoulders to do some really impressive shrugging. "I'm sure taking a cut of someone else's work without providing any kind of service is some kind of illegal, but that's not what you're doing, is it Cherry?"

"Nope. Maurice even makes sure we have a place to stay and food and everything, even if we're sick or injured. He's even set up some really lucrative gigs now and again. He's a good," here he couldn't help but snicker a little, "agent and manager."

"See?" I looked back to Maurice, "everybody's got a job, everybody's happy with the job, nobody's stealing nothing, I don't see a reason to get all bent out of shape about it." I remembered something from Camden back in the day and asked, "unless you've got the folks you represent addicted to something?" The look on Maurice's face showed me without words what he thought of that. "Sorry, didn't mean to imply anything. Just... I've known some of your peers who do that kind of shit."

He turned his head and spat on the ground. It says something about the temperature that it froze solid and kinda skittered off rather than splattering on the ground. "Those lowlifes aren't my peers. They're an embarrassment to the entire profession," here he nodded to Cherry, "his and mine."

I smiled at them both, "see? We're all on the same page then." I paused, "let me know if any of that sort show up and start making problems?" He shrugged. I got it, nobody wants to be known as a snitch. But I'd put the offer out there, so if somebody went so off the rails that the community needed them gone, I might hear about it. I had a sudden inspiration at that point. "If you can't get in touch with me, tell Denny about it. I'm pretty sure he's got the same view on it we do. Anyway, thanks for the directions and story, Cherry. See you around."

They both nodded, and I continued down the street. When I looked back, Maurice had disappeared, but Cherry stood on the corner, not a care in the world. Kinda envied him the ability to just say 'fuck you' to the cold like that.

After a full day of looking for Denny and fighting against Lancaster, both of me was kinda beat. I walked back alongside Lancaster, and just before South Street me stepped back into myself, a shadow covered me, and a jovial voice from behind me said, "I heard you were looking for me?"

I know he's on my side, as much as any God short of Loki would be, but a dude that big just appearing behind me? 'Startling' doesn't begin to cover it.

Which totally explains why I jumped away, landed on a patch of ice, and landed on my ass again.

Of course it does.

Oh, fuck you, Boss.