Diary of a Teenaged Mimic

Dear Diary,

Yeah, I'm really not thrilled about yesterday. So many fuckin' layers of disappointed in myself.

First and foremost losing my temper with Conrad. I didn't go so far as to actually hurt him, and I'm sure he'll never admit to being terrified of me, but that's just the thing. A parent isn't supposed to terrify their kids. We're supposed to be their protectors, defenders, their living breathing source of safe space. Yeah, kids need to get experiences outside safe spaces, because you can't really grow in a safe space. You can get bigger, sure, but part of a place being safe is the lack of anything new or surprising or scary. Y'know, the things that challenge you and make you learn and grow as a person. But kids need those safe spaces to process what they experience when they're outside of them, and parents are supposed to provide those safe spaces.

Yeah, I know what I said about sometimes you need to pull the curtain back for older kids. Teenagers, Young Adults, anybody who's nominally capable of defending themselves if they have to. You take them by the hand and lead them out of their safe space, letting them take risks, fail, maybe even experience pain, but with the sure and certain knowledge that someone with their best interests is right there ready to pull the plug and evacuate them if they wind up in danger they can't handle yet. Some people need that. They won't take risks themselves, and it sets up a self-reinforcing loop where they wont take risks because they've never taken risks, and they've never taken risks because they have no experience with taking them.

But you don't get angry, frustrated, at your wits end, and then decide to scare them yourself.

If Conrad weren't my son, I might feel a little bad about it, but somewhere along the line the fact that he's a centuries old personification of terror that even Gods fear just stopped mattering to me. Which is maybe a good thing, since I am the fuckin' Walking Ragnarok. He is my son. Full stop. I should be able to cut him off with a warning, or failing that sit him down and talk to him about why what he's doing isn't appropriate. I shouldn't let the darkest parts of Her Dark Fatass drool all over him until he stopped being so... Him. Because that's what I wanted right then. To have him stop displaying all those pesky personality traits that make him more than a faceless embodiment of fear.

I failed as a parent, and I'm gonna have to live with that. I'm gonna have to go to him and apologize for it too. But not today. Maybe in a few days, when I'm sure I'm not gonna slip back into that state again. Or, even if I need to give him the Mom Look to end all Mom Looks, I know it won't go any further than that. Even if he doesn't. Not any more. Because I fucked up.

Dammit.

I'm also not fully copacetic about Franklin. Okay, the man literally destroyed Souls for a vanity project. That maybe deserves setting a spell getting his own used as the filtration system for a Hole Spawn Tank. Kinda like destroying the Soul of a child because she inconvenienced you might deserve some donut shaped time on the time out spike. But I don't think anybody deserves eternal punishment like that. Punishment, sure. Eternal? Yeah, no. Might as well just toss 'em in the Maw if that's what's gonna happen. Oh, fuck, I really hope I don't have to wind up doing that, because I don't even want to eat that Soul with Mimic's mouth now.

But maybe I can get Saffron to forgive him? That seems like a good 'your punishment is done' line. I mean, for all the heinous bullshit the man did, I don't recall hearing anything where the suffering he inflicted was the point. Fuck, it seems more like it was just as incidental as the good he did. Which, y'know, he did. He lit the streets of Phileo, he connected Phileo and Camden Yards in a way that let the people of Camden Yards get to Phileo without dropping part of their daily earnings on ferry fees. Yeah, according to Saffron his Inspect is so poorly written it's a fuckin' miracle nobody's noticed the problems with it before, but even with that project, from what she tells me one of the side effects of all those Souls he bought was, in fact, Drivers'. Yeah, entirely an unintended consequence, but because of him nobody in Camden Yards has gone hungry for a long fuckin' time.

Yeah. I think maybe once she's done her victory lap she'll be down for, I dunno, letting him live out his eternal rest as a desk lamp or something. I mean, for an old horndog like Franklin, my Kitten's cleavage wouldn't be the worst thing to contemplate for eternity.

So everybody sacked out hard. I was emotionally drained, Saffron was exhausted, and the other two. Those two went straight to sleep just to join Saffron playing in the Maw. Shit, I really hope they don't go through with that stocking shit. Not because I don't want it. But because it really scares me how much I do.

Anyhow, woke up and got to teaching. Yesterday's lesson was about dealing with more than one attacker at a time. I brought out the Lancasters; we had enough now that every group of three had one between them, so I had the defender using that, but with the stipulation of 'light contact'. Still enough to sting, maybe bruise, but not enough to actually injure somebody. Still had a couple people go to the Infirmaries, but mostly due to stupid accidents, like somebody lunging themselves onto the end of a Lancaster. Holy shit I have to tell Bonnie about that.

We had a couple Cadets out on sick call, so I assigned Vickerson to work with Citron and Hildegarde while I circulated. Turned out to be great for the two of them, not so great for her. Yeah, I Co-Located, Blended, and watched, because while I wanted to make sure I put some time in with everybody else, I also needed to keep these three moving forward rather than stagnating. Vickerson is an absolute natural combat partner, although some of that may just be experience in real world combat. She instinctively rotated to the far side of their opponent, then worked to keep them off balance. Against Hildegarde, she lunged in and grappled, forcing Hildegarde to turn her attention away from Citron. With his reach, he disarmed Hildegarde and gave her a quick tap on the head to indicate she'd lost. I dropped a stealth Stabilize into Vickerson after that, because while she'd boosted her Endurance enough with recent practice to not pass out, she did not look entirely stable after being in Hildegarde's ungentle clutches for a good thirty seconds.

Against Citron, who was a much more aware combatant, she wound up taking a lot of hits to the forearms, which we'd declared 'safe' for blocking. Not fun, still painful, but 'safe'. Like, going with the 'Lancasters are training Mana Blades', assuming folks had Dragon Hide vambraces or some shit like that. I'm told that outside of Calverton, Cold Iron is fuckin expensive as hell, Which is why Norfolk only had some stolen pieces and New Amsterdam and Phileo had dick all. But good training, so forearm blocks were legal. They backed him into a corner, at which point he tried to lunge through them. At that point Vickerson went for his legs, getting smacked on the crown of her head with the Lancaster for her troubles. Meanwhile Hildegarde grabbed his other hand to keep him from blocking her, then punched him in the balls. Not a full on haymaker, just a love tap, but his eyes went out as much as she'd shoved his testicles in, and his grip on the Lancaster slipped enough for her to yank it away. Then tap him in the balls with it to signal he'd lost.

Now, don't get me wrong. Those were just two spars over the course of a day. For the most part Citron or Hildegarde with a weapon was more than a match for any two people without. But the times when the unarmed won, it was Vickerson moving to make the sacrifice play and let her partner get the takedown.

The times she had the Lancaster were, honestly, kinda embarrassing. Seriously, she'd gotten pretty good at just not getting hit, and she kept most of her attention on Hildegarde like any sane human being facing the pair of them unarmed, but just because Citron wasn't a one man skeletal restructuring machine, that doesn't mean he didn't have a hell of a lot of reach and enough leverage for a punch to ring her bell if she didn't dodge, duck, dive, dip, or dodge. Over and over again, she wound up getting bullied, disarmed, and taken down. Even the other two started trying to coach her when they were teamed up against her. They didn't actually go easy on her, or I would have stepped in and kicked their asses, but they gave her all the right advice. I mean, the advice they would have needed in her place, and frankly I'm not sure what she needed in any case. Definitely needed to talk to the Marshall. Maybe Marie? Or no, maybe Potami. I needed somebody who had the same kind of reach problems as Vickerson, but also wasn't a furious ball of aggression like Hildegarde or, y'know, me.

Not long before dark I got a little tired of it. I stealthed in and hit them each with a short Stabilize, then stepped up to them. "Okay, guys. This isn't working. Cadet Vickerson, I'm sorry," she tensed. "I'm not the teacher Marshall duBois is. I know you've got it in you to compete here, but I'm not seeing how to bring it out."

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"I'm... not sure what you're seeing is really there, Ma'am."

That... kinda annoyed me. I held out my hand. "Lancaster." She tossed it to me. I proceeded to Co-Locate half a dozen times, throwing a Lancaster to each of them, keeping one each for three of me, then collapsed the rest away. "Cadets! Give us a little room!" I circled around the three of them, and watched as Vickerson, then Hildegarde, then Citron realized what I was about to do. "Defend!""

I lunged in, pushing each of them, a flurry of strikes and blocks, then jumped back. I did that a few more times to get a feel for them. Then the mes facing Hildegarde and Citron slowed, backed half a pace, and smiled. The final me leapt for Vickerson, Lancaster coming down like an absolute guillotine.

They took the bait. Citron spun and got his weapon in the way to deflect my shot toward Hildegarde, who took a two handed grip and met me strength for strength. I mean, I wasn't actually tryna make two half Vickersons, so I wasn't at full Ericson smashing oomph, but she still caught an avalanche and held. Hildegarde blocked my strike.

Vickerson wasn't where she had been in any case. The moment I leapt, she'd spun, and while she moved away from my leap, she wasn't running. She'd turned to face the other two of me, swinging without even really looking. Inches before I would have given both Citron and Hildegarde a taste of being kancho punched by a Lancaster, her feet slammed into one of my mes hips, and her Lancaster sank home right in the crotch of the other one. Honestly, I think she'd been going for the crotch shot with her feet, but the angle wasn't right. Hildegarde still got poked in one buttock as I stumbled sideways, but I missed Citron entirely, because fuckin' ouch. Vickerson herself wound up lying on the floor, bleeding from a broken nose where she'd faceplanted into the paver.

"Hold!"

"Ow."

I collapsed back into the one of myself who'd gotten shoved sideways. Before I could move to help Vickerson up, the other two already had her. "Yeah, getting poked with one of those sucks." At that point I had to shut up, because laughing while Vickerson tried to stem her excessively bloody broken nose. "Hildegarde, please get her down to the Infirmary. I'll let Sister Siobhan know you're on the way." Incoming shattered nose, Ice Pop. Be nice to her please, she got it doing a successful sacrifice play, and she's having some confidence problems.

Of course, Dear.

Ooh. I kind of like that, Darling.

"Vickerson, before you go," She and Hildegarde paused. "Yeah. Definitely something there if you could stop two of me when your partners could barely stop one. I've even got some ideas. But for now? Get yourself patched up and then down to dinner."

"Yes, Ma'am."

I turned to the class. "Okay, you lot. Put the Lancasters away, one lap walking to cool down, then down to dinner!" I held Citron back with a hand on his arm.

"Ma'am?" he asked quietly.

"You three have been working together, haven't you?"

He looked a little taken aback. "You... you suggested we do so?"

By that point, the rest of the Cadets were all on the perimeter, chatting as they finished their cooldown walks. Way too wrapped up in their own shit to notice me having a little heart to heart with Citron. "Yeah, I did. Didn't really intend to suggest you three doing horizontal workouts though."

The rectal kumquat arrived right on cue, and I silenced it with the Mom Look I'd been working on, that one that says 'don't play the offended innocent card, because I know it's bullshit'. He blushed enough to be seen even in the gathering dusk, then muttered, "precious little was horizontal."

I laughed and gave him a quick fist pound on the shoulder. "Nice! I always say, if you're gonna do it, do it right."

"Really?"

"I mean, no, not really, because my mouth is full way too much of the time, but the sentiment is there."

He blushed again and shook his head. "No, I meant... I thought..."

"That I'd feel some kind of way about you three hooking up?" He shrugged, then nodded. "Yeah, I mean, I guess I'm happy you three are having fun. I'm also glad you did, because... Okay, have you had DeLeon's Brotherhood of Thebes lecture yet?"

"Not exactly, Ma'am." I tilted my head. "My Devotional Day is Wotansday. The day Doctor DeLeon teaches Geography and World Cultures." I shook my head a little, still not getting it. "Hero Castro teaches our section of Geography and World Cultures on Moondays. But she told us that the curriculum and most lectures were prepared by Doctor DeLeon. So... I suppose it's still 'his' lecture?"

I chuckled a little. "Good god, if either of them ever wants to peg you, they're gonna need a diamond bit auger." I ignored his spluttering and said, "Do you understand why she moved like that?"

He stopped spluttering immediately. "To protect us."

"Yeah. Thing is, she moved without thinking. And when she stopped thinking and started doing, her kinesthesia and her... shit, I don't know quite what to call it. Can't remember duBois' term. But her sense of the flow of the fight? Both of those were near fuckin' perfect. She's not as fast or strong as you. She's not as tough or strong as Hildegarde. But her big problem is that she doesn't trust herself, her instincts. She keeps trying to think before she acts, which... Shit."

He chuckled. "Indeed."

"Yeah. Great thing for an officer commanding a squad, even a small one. But shitty for an actual combatant. But I don't want her losing that constant thinking. She just needs to start acting while she thinks."

"How can we get her to do that, Ma'am?"

I shook my head. "That's my job, figuring that out. I'll work on something. You guys, on the other hand?" He nodded attentively. "Could maybe really help her confidence a little."

"How?" I just stared at him. "Really?"

I shrugged. "Look, I don't care how you do it, just don't lie to her about it. That'll be worse than not building it up. But yeah. She's feeling down about her, uh, physicality. I'm sure you two can think of some way to make her feel better about that if you really, really work at it." I grinned up at him. "Teamwork makes the dream work!"

He shook his head, trying not to laugh. "Uh, Ma'am?"

"Yeah?"

"Maybe you could explain to her how you act and think in combat?"

"Pfft. Me? Who says I think?" He stood there staring. "Like, ever? Anyway, go get some dinner. Dismissed."

I stepped home, only to have to wait for a while before a grumpy Siobhan flopped down in my lap. "Tell me you did not do that to that poor girl."

"Nope. I'm innocent as the driven mud this time." She crossed her arms and pouted. "No, seriously, I didn't hit her at all. She hit me. Twice."

"Really?"

"Yep."

Saffron looked up from where she had Marie's head in her lap, where she'd been feeding her broken off bites of pastry. "Did you let her?"

I shook my head side to side. "Not really? I mean, I wasn't going full human blender on some poor Cadets, but I wasn't throwing the fight, either. But in this case I was going three of me versus a team of three Cadets. I was attacking her two partners from behind while the third me distracted them, and she managed to hit both of me after I'd committed. Solid enough shots to make me miss one of my swings, and turn the other from a game ender into a minor pain in the butt."

"Impressive."

"Yeah. She's got good instincts, she just doesn't trust them. She's constantly overthinking shit she ought to just be... I dunno, doing."

My Kitten spent a moment feeding Marie, then finger combing her hair. "Would you like me to talk to her?"

I snorted. "Y'know, there are gonna be accusations of favoritism if you do?"

"Oh! Is this Cadet Vickerson again?" I nodded. "I'll definitely talk to her then. Bring her here next time you've a one on one mentoring session scheduled."

"But..."

"But nothing." She smiled at me. "There is a reason those with unusual blessings are often called 'touched by the Gods'."

"Yeah, I don't think they meant that way."

She leaned toward me the tiniest bit. "I think they did." Then she stared at me until I laughed.

"Okay, okay, you win." I turned back to Siobhan and hugged her. "Thanks for taking care of her, Darling."

"It's literally my job, Dear."

I looked at Saffron. "Isn't that so cute?"

"Absolutely adorable."

"In all seriousness, did you manage to get her nose fixed?"

Siobhan nodded, leaning against me. "It took a bit of effort, but yes. I'm glad she had her friend there with her to hold her still."

Dinner went pretty quietly after that. Lots of meat pastries. Little ones, like two or three bites each. Saffron probably could have fed them to Marie whole, but breaking them apart and eating them that way was part of the fun.

Dreamt of all of my ladies snuggled up on top of each other like living rafts, floating in the middle of the maw like it was a moat keeping them safe. So tasty.

Woke a little stiff, so I decided to go visit Dad. He took one look at me, had me get up on the massage table, then set me in my chair after only like half an hour. "I'd swear you nearly got yourself killed less than a week ago, but there's barely any sign of injury."

"Yeah. Um. Concentrated Worship by my favorite Worshippers." I stopped, kinda aghast. "Wait, that's not right, having favorite Worshippers, is it? That's like having a favorite kid or some shit."

He laughed. "Of course you'll have favorite Worshippers. Worshippers are not children, and they come to you for many different reasons. Some will be relationships of convenience; they want power, you need Glory and Worship, and you find their behavior acceptable. Others will fit you well in some ways but not in others. Some may align with you perfectly in a moral sense, but you will find their personalities odious. Others will be morally questionable, but enjoyable. Then... then there will be those few, those special few..."

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and as I let it out one face filled my minds eye. "Saffron. Always Saffron."

He smiled softly at me. "Indeed. I take it you came here to talk about something?"

I squared my shoulders, took a deep breath, and nodded. "Yeah." I told him about the other night with Conrad. Stepped him through everything. We talked about every little detail. About my actions, my words, my reactions, my emotions. We talked for hours, we talked for days, we talked for minutes and moments and forever.

We'd both just acknowledged without words that we'd been talking in circles for the last little bit when a quiet voice in my head silenced us both. My Murder Mittens, her voice stealthy even in the privacy of my head.

Bearsign.