Dear Diary,

I'm really not sure how I keep winding up like this, but if the only common thread is me, maybe it's my fault?

So yeah, after falling from god knows how far, I woke up in bed.

At a guess? Two miles. No more than three.

How in the fuck did I survive that?

Maybe you landed head first?

That got me, I snorted out a laugh before I even opened my eyes. Which hurt like fuck, but then, everything hurt like fuck at the moment, but at least I got a chuckle out of it. Thanks, Boss.

Always glad to lend a hand, Champion.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, you know it. You're the best.

I know.

I hadn't dreamt prior to waking. I don't know what that's a sign of, but it sure as fuck can't be anything good. I could only remember hurting, being torn apart from the inside trying to hold as much Mana as I could. Every bit of me that had burned, had torn trying to hold all that Mana? Still hurt. Not, like actively ripping hurt, but post-rip, post-scabbing, 'don't move you dumb fuck' hurting.

Despite my everything telling me not to, I opened my eyes. I looked around as much as I could without moving; we had new curtains. Thick ones, the kind that could make it pitch black even with the sun shining straight into them. The ceiling had some new decorations as well; twinkling lights that reminded me of stars. By the charcoal gray fur, Isnomi lay on my chest, fast asleep. Marie's white made a wall to my left, and that meant the brunette curled up on my left with her head against Isnomi's was Saffron.

I opened my mouth and tried to say, "hey," but what came out was more of a pained whine, because even moving my mouth that much pulled at what felt like stitches along one side of my face.

The moment I made a sound, Conrad stood up so I could see him without moving. "Mother dear? Are you awake?"

It really said something about how beat to shit I must have been when they went to sleep that they went to sleep with, y'know, Conrad in the room. I groaned out, "mm hmm", and he bowed his head.

"I'm sorry, Mother. I failed you."

All I could get out was an interrogative, "hmm?"

He heaved a sigh. Pure acting, but top shelf acting, like I'd expect from him. "Apollo. When we saw you fall, instead of doing as you said and healing, his first action upon leaving my workshop was to flee to Metaphoric Space." He shook his head, a faint smile tracing itself over his lips for a moment. "Also his last action. Local Metaphoric Space was... not healthy for him."

I snorted out something like a laugh, and then whined at how it pulled at whatever injury ran up the right side of my face. Before I could convince myself not to, I forced out, "s'kay, son."

He shook his head, but said, "thank you for understanding, mother. There wasn't much left, but I made you something." He reached back behind him, I guess to something laying on the windowsill, since the curtains moved just enough to let a lance of light spear through and leave me whimpering. He held it out where I could see it without turning; a rod, maybe three foot long, about the size of a cane. A snake wrapped around the outside, its skin either leather or so masterfully crafted that it looked like leather. The snake's head bent ninety degrees from the rest of the thing; the handle of the cane, if that's what it was. Otherwise it was a really mean looking back end for a club. Or, worse, front end, what with, y'know, the fangs. Not viper fangs like Mister Slither, either, but shorter ones, like you'd see on a non-poisonous snake. Also, short enough that they wouldn't snap off if I whacked somebody with it.

I tried to lift my right arm, but trying to do so introduced me to more stripes of pain all up and down my arm, not to mention across the upper right of my chest. "Fgk."

Marie managed to move around until she looked into my eyes, all without moving her weight off my arm. "No."

Kitten, you awake yet?

Mrrphrrh... TABITHA?

Saffron shook herself awake, and I couldn't stop myself from whining a little as she jostled me doing so. "You're awake!"

Yeah. Sorry, talking hurts.

"It would, given your injuries." Her matter-of-fact tones let me know that whatever had happened, she was both relieved to find me awake and really pissed at me for something.

What'd I do this time?

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "You mean other than nearly, or possibly actually killing yourself to Cure all of New Amsterdam and Newark at one go?"

What you mean, 'actually'? I'm in pretty sad shape, but rumors of my demise have been exaggerated. Always wanted to say that.

Her voice dropping to a whisper, she said, "your Kraken got to you before I did."

So where is she?

She shook her head. "They. So many." A self-deprecatory grunt of laughter forced itself from her. "I'd have been so much Kraken chow if they hadn't recognized me. They're... they think differently. So strange. So alien. Some of them so very old. When I found you, two of them had died to get you as whole as you are now. I couldn't even tell if you would survive Healing, so all I could do was bring you back here and pray. I can only assume they've been praying as well. You..." she trailed off.

How long was I out?

She looked up toward Conrad and asked, "What time is it?

Smart boy that he is, he replied, "it has been twenty three hours since Mother Cured two Cities. Give or take the several minutes you took Shaping that Mana, or the time it took you to fall afterward."

Well... fuck. Can you guys sit me up?

Saffron gently lifted Isnomi off of me. Of course that woke the Menace up, and she took one look at me and said, "MAMA!" before lunging for me.

Somehow Saffron kept her from getting away, although it was a really close thing. "Momma is hurt, my girl. You have to be gentle with her. No leaping, no grabbing."

Isnomi turned those solemn toddler eyes on her and said, "gennle," before nodding. Saffron set her on the bed, and she crawled over, careful not to touch me, until she could reach me and lay a single hand on my face.

Saffron looked to Marie and said, "can you help her sit up, please?"

"Yes." Before she did anything else, Marie reached over to where her uniform lay folded up on an end table I didn't remember us owning, rummaging through the pockets until she came out with a small corked vial.

"Marie, what is that?" Saffron asked.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Marie slid one hand under my back, balancing my head perfectly on her thumb, then lifted me into a sitting position. With me not trying to flex anything, the pain limited itself to a single long stretching, maybe tearing sensation along one side of my lower back. She pulled the cork with her teeth and upended it into my open mouth, then spat the cork out and said, "Good."

Anise. Cinnamon. Vanilla. Some other smoky, completely sus shit that reminded me of the stairwells back at Eastside when the stoners were done with them. Also enough alcohol content to get fuckin' Marie drunk, I'm pretty sure, and all that in something that was half a shot, at most. It washed through me, blessed numbness spreading outward from my mouth. "Fug, shezz righ. Good shit."

"You realize we could now injure her further and not realize because she won't feel it?" snapped Saffron. Then she put one hand over her face and said, "I'm sorry, Marie. I'm sorry, I know you wouldn't hurt her. I'm just so worried. You... you didn't see her there. Before things scabbed over. She..." she cut herself off with a shudder, then repeated, "I'm sorry."

Marie, for her part, had piled pillows up and slid me until they braced me sitting more or less upright. Without the constant sensation that I was tearing myself apart, I looked around the room. Conrad still held that weird cane thing out toward me, so I waggled my hand. As carefully as Marie had been, he slid it under my hand and wrapped my fingers around it. Now that I got a look at them, the charbroil lines from when I tried to cut my fingers off with Mana Blades had been joined by a spiderweb of little cuts. All scabbed over now, and no longer burning whenever I moved, but holy shit did it look like somebody had run me through a food processor and then stuck me back together.

I closed my hands around my new cane, and the weirdest sensation ran through my hand. Like, an eternity of itching all over the space of half a second. "Guhhhgghh. That's so fuckin' weird." I looked at my hand again once the feeling had passed, and some of the spiderweb of scabs had split open. No blood, though; just a matching spiderweb of scars. They still ached, like, y'know, I'd stuck my hand in a blender and hit 'puree', but it didn't feel like I was tearing myself apart by flexing my hand. It kinda burned, like it was not happy about moving, with the burn following the lines of scars, but I could move.

I worked my hand to wiggle the staff so I could run my fingers across the carved surface of the snake. I still couldn't tell if it was leather or not. I opened my mouth to ask, then thought better of it. "Thank you, son. That's really handy."

"I do what I can, Mother Dearest."

I lifted the cane as best as I could with just my fingers, rubbing it against my thigh. That same thousand year itch tagged me everywhere I managed to rub it. "Fuck that's weird."

Saffron looked at Conrad, then back at me. She lifted my hand, and the cane dropped as she did; it just lay on my thigh doing its itchy thing. My arm hurt a little where she moved it, but Marie's super-shot dialed it back from 'you stuck your arm in a jet turbine' to 'you tried to give a cat a pill'. Which got me laughing almost hysterically, since in point of fact my cat had fed me medicine. Saffron worked my fingers around, asking, "does this hurt?"

"Uh. Yeah. Ow."

She jumped like I'd slapped her, then gently set my arm back on the cane. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to.."

"No, s'ok. Can you maybe rub that stick all over me for a bit?" Conrad shook his head, just the tiniest of jerks side to side. "Second thought," I gripped the cane as hard as I could, ignoring a the remaining stiffness and ache. "Lift my hand?" Saffron lifted my hand with both of hers, careful not to jostle the cane free. "Now, rub it all over me." She tilted her head and shrugged, then started with rubbing it along my left arm. "Gaaaggghhh..."

She froze. "I'm sorry!"

"Nggghhh... It's okay. It... doesn't hurt. Not exactly. Okay, it kinda hurts, a lot, but..." I tried to lift my left arm, at which point my left tit and the surrounding area reminded me that moving an arm requires more than just, y'know, an arm. "Oh, fuck. Ow." Instead I just flexed my arm, moving my forearm around. A few of the scabs flaked away, showing the shiny skin of new scars underneath. "Worth."

For the next little while, Marie moved me around while Saffron gripped my hand with both of hers, rubbing Conrad's gift as many places as it could reach while in my right hand. Without moving my right arm all that much, because the rest of it still wept from the scabs when she moved it. Isnomi spent the whole time with one or both hands on my cheeks, quietly whispering, "oh tay, Mama. You oh tay."

Eventually, once they'd passed the thing over most of my torso and all of my legs, I said, "okay, gimme a sec, and a little room?" Saffron picked up Isnomi and stepped back. I reached over with my left hand and picked up my new cane, then ran the handle over as much of my right arm as could reach. When the torturous itching died down, I looked at Marie and said, "gimme a hand up?" Moving inch by inch, she helped me get my legs over the side of the bed, then pulled me to my feet. When I waved her back, she let go, at which point my thighs and lower back informed me that they had in no way signed off on this 'standing up' and 'moving under my own power' bullshit. I grit my teeth and bore it, although I might have been leaning on my new cane more than a little bit.

"Ow." After a few seconds, that seemed like it wasn't quite enough to describe things. "Fuckin' ow." Conrad still stood beside the chair that had been dragged into the room. I noticed that of all four people in the room, he was the only one clothed. On the other hand, he looked about as bothered or interested as he normally did, which is to say not at fuckin' all. "Hey, Son?"

"Yes, Mother dear?"

I nodded down at the cane; I wanted to hold it up, but at the moment it was holding me up, so the nod was all I could do. "That's super handy. Do I want to know?"

He smiled and shrugged. "As I may have implied, the materials were in a sad state by the time I acquired them; this was the best I could do."

I nodded, forcing a smile despite the side of my face not liking the whole 'having expressions' thing. "I love it. Thank you."

He nodded, then tipped his head toward the connecting door. "I had some things I needed to look in on?"

I nodded as well. "Go on, then. Unless you'd rather stay?"

He shook his head again, that one tiny jerk from side to side, and then left.

I looked down at my cane and said, "damn. This is a really nice New Year's gift. Kinda wish I'd been awake for it."

Saffron tilted her head, "for what?"

"Y'know, New Year's."

She smiled at me. "You're in luck, then. This year has two intercalary days."

"Inter what now?"

Saffron laughed, said, "Such a Goof. Every fourth year New Year's lasts two days instead of one. So you've still got an hour or two left," came over to stand in front of me, then wormed her way under my right shoulder. Between her on that side and the cane on the other, my legs and back decided that they wouldn't go on strike just yet. "So, what do you guys do around here to celebrate New Years?"

Saffron looked at Marie, then glanced to Isnomi, then looked back at Marie. She didn't make a sound, but her shoulders shook with more suppressed laughter. Marie grinned back at her. "Darling Marie, could you and Isnomi be so kind as to go acquire us a celebratory feast?"

"Hey, I can make it to the Dining Hall. Just, y'know, slow."

She looked at me, then pointedly stared down the front of me. Lots of scars. More than I'd had before. Some of them starting to fade, others brand fuckin' new. After a moment I got her point, that none of them were, y'know, covered. What with me wearing zero articles of clothing and only bearing one accessory that didn't really cover anything, no matter how good it was at helping me stand.

Without thinking about it, I did our little 'insta-dressing' trick, covering myself with The Dress. Every single scar on my body flared red along the edges, like I'd been working out well past any recommended duration. A moment later the low-tide reek hit me, and I whimpered, "Marie, could you maybe get this off of me and, y'know, make it not stink like dead fish and whale poop?"

She finished dressing first, and wonder of wonders the Menace managed to dress herself without any major sartorial flaws. After that Marie carefully removed The Dress and her boots, stowing them on the lowest shelf of her cart. "Yeah, could you maybe bring a bath back with dinner?"

Marie nodded, then plonked the menace down atop her cart and left. I didn't want to get the stank on our sheets, since I'd probably want to sleep in them after not too much longer, so Saffron helped me settle into our chair. Despite the complete lack of anything resembling ergonomics, it still felt good to get off my feet, and if it had zero padding, it also had zero flex, which let me lean back on it with the utmost confidence that it wouldn't break or fall over or anything like that. I groaned out my relief at my legs and lower back ceasing their screaming, then said, "okay, so what exactly is the New Year's tradition that required getting Isnomi out of the room?"

Saffron settled on the bed, leaning back on her elbows, making it really clear that she was, as noted, sans clothes. Laughter bubbling under her voice, she said, "There's a reason so many children are born at the end of Rooesh and the beginning of Beh." When I shook my head, she smiled and said, "ten months after New Years, Goof."

I can't say the clue was 'free floating', what with her bouncing it off my skull once before tossing it my way a second time, but I finally got it. I laughed, giving my sore everything exactly the zero fucks it deserved, but said, "Sorry, Kitten. You know I'd love to, but I don't think I can move enough to participate. Hell, I'm not sure I could move enough to, y'know, be a passive participant."

She pouted, a cute little moue that didn't reach her still-laughing eyes. "Oh, no. That's terrible. I know you're so devoted to participating in all of your new home's traditions. If only there were some way you could take part without having to do more than sit there." She stretched, her hands sliding back across the bed, her back arching until she held herself up off the bed with the back of her head and the backs of her knees on the edge of the bed. Hell of a view, lemme tell ya. Then she slid her hands back down across each other, then down the rest of her until they rested atop her thighs.

At which point she hummed out seven notes to hammer Pavlov's button. "I'll take care of myself then."

What else can I say except to quote the poet? "My chick bad, my chick hood, my chick do things that your chick wish she could."