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Diary of a Teenaged Mimic
Day Three Hundred And Twenty-Three

Day Three Hundred And Twenty-Three

Dear Diary,

Part of me wonders if at some point I'm going to hurt myself too much to keep going, enough that no amount of Healing Magic, Loki Shiatsu or, I dunno, Mimicking a healthy person will bring me back up to anything resembling healthy.

Should you ever fall too far to rise once more, my Daughter, I will rearrange the Heavens themselves to make a monument worthy of what you've attempted.

I didn't think stars and shit were part of your Portfolio?

They're not.

Oh. Thanks, Boss. You're the best.

I know.

So, yeah, folks intending to avenge or memorialize me when I inevitably push a step too far aside, I really wonder where that step will be. I mean, shit, I think I may have technically offed myself at New Years. I'm not really sure. I've definitely taken enough damage to kill half a dozen normal people. I mean, shit, I deliberately goaded Karen into stabbing me in the gut until she got tired. That alone would do for two or three people, I'm sure. Falling into the ocean from a mile up? Yep, that'd do it. Oddly enough, I'm not sure that two inch hole through me would be an immediately lethal thing.

Getting hit by that much lightning probably should have been though.

I dunno. I've felt myself die. That's probably the most fucked up thing about Co-Location, really. Although according to duBois, that should probably have killed me too. Maybe it's 'cause I spread the load so much, with so many other mes around? I mean, who the fuck do I talk to about shit like this?

Of course, I could pull my head out of my ass and remember that it's Monday.

So yesterday after giving Olga, Weyson, and Svart their marching orders, I asked them how long it would take for everything to be ready. They sort of looked at one another, then both of them deferred to Weyson.

"At a guess? Three days minimum for the Trolls to gather. More likely five. Five days minimum for the Jarls and our Raiders to gather; more likely seven. Nine for the ships."

"Why so long? And is that a minimum?"

Weyson shook his head. "No. Although we could probably cut two days off if we told all our Captains to cast off immediately rather than taking on supplies for a Raid."

"Do we have the supplies here to give them?"

He held out a hand and waggled it. "Yes, but no. We do have enough supplies to get them all to their destination, but it sounds as if we'll be wanting our supplies here at the capital to be available to supply the Alliance. Raiders who run out of food just turn around and go home if they can't steal more. If we're clearing the Undead out of Calverton, we'll want supplies for a longer duration."

"Speaking of, it's warm enough to grow crops down here now, right?" At their nods, I asked, "is there anything we can have folks plant that will grow fast enough to matter for this campaign?"

Svart cut in. "Do we care about feeding everyone through the winter as well?"

"Duh. Yes."

Svart nodded. "Then we'll mostly want them to stay with what they've planted, but we can always break ground on some new fields, maybe plant some of those laying fallow. It might hurt us years from now, but no worse than having an Undead Calverton City."

I nodded in return. "Okay. Get the word out to do that as well then. Also, if you've got them, plant corn and lima beans."

Everybody blinked. "We... don't have nearly as much livestock as the Cities north of us."

I shook my head. "Trust me on this one? If it doesn't work you can just blame me."

They looked at each other. "If you say so."

"Okay, anything else I'm missing?"

After a pause, Olga said, "not that I can think of." She leaned down to get closer and speak more softly. "Do we have your permission to put things in motion if they're needed and we can't contact you?"

I thought about that. "Anything to do with the Calverton Campaign or the Thing, yeah. Otherwise... put whatever it is on ice until I get back." She nodded. "Okay, then, I gotta get going."

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I didn't really have to get going, but having people looking to me for direction and leadership gave me hives. I spent the rest of the day reading my Marital Arts book looking for the most embarrassing submission holds I could find. Turns out there's a big overlap between what's nigh incomprehensibly hot in private with paramours and what's probably gonna be embarrassing as hell in the Practice Yard. Then again, maybe shit'll Just Happen. Right now that sounds like an okay option, because hives.

So other than dubious Combat Training research, watching as our Healing class tinkered more with the Smite Spell and took turns letting Marie expose portions of their Souls for the others to study, and just lying there staring at Saffron as she worked on her new Inspect, I didn't do much of anything Sunday afternoon. Sunday night wound up being an all night Marie-fest, although the weird regimented submission thing down in Norfolk got... not stronger. More regimented? Stronger isn't exactly wrong, but it's not right, either. I dunno. Maybe I'm imagining it.

How many times have I told myself that so far since I got Isekaied? Gotta be at least twice, which isn't a lot, but it's just weird that it would happen twice.

Lazy slow morning, but not badly lazy and slow. We missed breakfast in the Dining Hall, but we still caught breakfast at Drivers. After the four of us stepped over to Loki's cave for the day, I snuck back and got another armful of crème stuffed crepes. When we all sat down to breakfast around the table, I pouted until Saffron let me feed her. Okay, I'm not sure if it was the pout or me offering her half of mine, but one way or the other when she finally agreed she cut loose again, hopping over to sit in my lap and kinda melting, draping herself over me to focus entirely on each bite I fed her. I gotta admit, I almost didn't go through with today's Nefarious Plan.

But then I thought about how much I really, really wanted to, and went through with it anyway. Wait, that might also be a pattern. But what with the whole 'Nefarious Plans to Spoil My Wives... uh... Wife and Concubine Rotten'? I'm gonna keep it up anyway. Anybody who doesn't like it can go find their own wife and / or concubine and not spoil them.

At any rate, a fully Blended me stood there handing over crepe after crepe, and I fed every damn one of them to Saffron, one torn off bite at a time. by the time I finished, she just kinda lay there, draped over me, groaning a little. Eventually she forced words out past the food coma. "I don't know how you did that, but if you keep doing it, I'm going to wind up spherical."

"Eh. Whatever. I'll just ride you like a yoga ball."

She snorted. "You would, Goof."

"Damn straight. I mean, yeah, you're hot as fuck, and I've got no idea how you managed to keep that nice layer of soft over the abs I know are hiding under there, but my Kitten cravings don't come from your stupid sexy silhouette."

"No?"

I shrugged. "I mean, yeah, it helps, but... no, really. It's you, Kitten."

"You realize that my body is, in fact, me?"

I snorted. "Yeah, not the most important part."

Softly, she whispered, "what is?"

I smiled down at her. "I can't decide." I lay my fingers on her forehead. "This." I ran my fingers down her cheek, feather light across her throat, and lay my palm against her breast above her heart. "Or this."

"I am going to kiss you now, Tabitha Diaz, and if I vomit from trying to do so while stuffed to bursting with crepes, it is entirely your fault and I shan't stop until I'm satisfied you've been fully kissed."

I laughed. "Oh, can't have that now." Then I lifted her gently and lay my lips against hers.

Time flowed oddly in Loki's cave. I brushed my lips against hers for the briefest of moments. I kissed her for a minute, an hour, a day, an eternity everlasting. Eventually, long before either of us had any need or desire to come up for air, a certain Menace interrupted. "Siwwy."

Both our lips curved too much to keep kissing, and we both looked at her. While Saffron urped a little at the combination of post kiss bliss and unwanted giggles, I said, "Someday, you might not mind so much."

Isnomi gave me all the side eye and said, "Isnomi siwwy?" She pondered briefly, then said, "nah!"

We both laughed, then I followed up with, "well, if you ever change your mind, you know who to ask about how to do it, right?"

She nodded. "Mama."

I shook my head. "Nope."

Now Menace looked kinda doubtful, like I was putting one over on her. "Ma?"

"As incredibly good as she is at it, no."

Her brows drew down and she pondered. I let her do it, because it totally distracted her from how my free hand wandered while Saffron remained too food coma to resist. Eventually she looked up. "Siggy?"

I tilted my head, considering, because I hadn't really thought about that whole 'Goddess of Marriage' aspect of our local Victory Goddess. But I shook my head and went with my first answer anyway, because 'Goddess of Marital Devotion' might have some good kissing skills, but 'Demigoddess built to party' still had an edge there. "Marie."

Menace's eyes got wide. "Riwwy?"

I nodded, solemnly. Isnomi looked at her Ma, who nodded as well. Then she turned to Sigyn, who said, "I'm thinking of asking her for tips myself now that my daughter mentions it."

Everybody turned to look at Marie, who managed to look serene even as her blush turned her fur pink. Okay, her fur didn't really get pink, but so much of it was so thin and her skin so pale that a strong enough blush made it seem that way. She nodded and said, "Yes."

Isnomi took a minute to digest that, then nodded and said, "oh tay!" Then she scampered over to Sigyn and said, "up! up!" Sigyn, of course, scooped her up into a hug. Girl has her priorities straight.

After a while spent just vibing, Loki said, "if you don't mind your wife lounging on my bed, I suspect after facing down the cream of Norfolk, you'll be needing some correction?"

I stood, carried Saffron to the bed, which now had something that, with the right imagination, might be considered a 'mattress', and laid her down. Before she could complain, I stripped down and folded my uniform up for her to use as a pillow. She pouted. "What's wrong, Kitten?"

"I wanna watch."

I rolled my eyes, then shifted her around so she lay across the bed with her head angled to see the table before I walked over, hopped onto the table, and lay down. Face up. because that's where the hole was. I mean, had been. Really. Totally why.

Loki and Sigyn both just stared at me, almost like they were trying to glare and couldn't. Eventually Sigyn broke down laughing. At that, Loki smiled. "Even now, as my daughter, you insist on taunting us both." He chuckled a little. "Does your mischief know no bounds?"

"C'mon, Boss. Have you met me?"