Dear Diary,

"Redemption needs penitence, If you don't know you did wrong, You can't try to do better." - Tabitha Diaz, Doctrine of Tabitha, Book of Redemption

In this Verse Tabitha makes clear the reason one must repent in order to be Redeemed. To earn Redemption, one must right the wrongs one has done. Clean up one's messes. We must see the mistakes we have made, own the consequences of our actions, and work to undo the harm those have caused to others, and even unto ourselves. Because if we do not admit to mistakes, if we do not acknowledge our failures, if we do not recognize what harm we have done, how can we hope to heal it? - Priestess Most High Above All Others, Archmage Imperator Saffron Aetos-Diaz, Commentary on the Doctrine of Tabitha

Y'know, I'm kinda glad Saffron has ended some of these with questions. Because along with telling people to be mindful, to think about shit, I guess, no, I think, no, I know it's important to give them things to think about.

I'm not arrogant enough in my knowledge to think that I can tell them what to think. If I remember right, I really tried to avoid that with most of my Books, most of the Verses. Especially these first three, the abstract ones. I mean, when talking about Justified Homicide, I'm pretty okay with outright saying, 'don't do a Homicide if it's not Justified'. Not only is that objectively correct, and no I'm not taking criticism on that particular stance, it also sounds like something you'd hear Eminem or Kendrick say, and that just makes it cooler.

But when talking about abstract shit like 'Agency, Egalitarianism, and Redemption', I'm gonna try to hold off on too much 'this is an absolute objective truth, handed down from on high'. Not only am I shockingly unqualified to determine Ultimate Truth, the only time I'm handing anything out resembling 'on high' is when Her Dark Fatassness has gotten into Tallulah's grain supplies.

Okay, I really hope that's not literally true, because not only is Devorah a sweet woman with curves for days, I low key promised to let her get me drunk, and even if she's not into me once she's got me sloppy drunk, I'd still feel better getting drunk for her than just sitting there staring while downing shot after shot of honey booze. Wow. How weird is it that I'm not looking forward to getting drunk to relieve the endless ennui of life, or to get up the courage to spread my legs for some questionable dude, or even as a super slow form of self destruction, but because I want the woman making the booze to feel good about herself.

Shit, next thing I know I'm gonna start doing sex to improve... peoples... self...

Well. Fuck. I keep thinking 'nah, I can't be grown up and healthy and doing Good Things, because I'm a terminally traumatized freak who's now too powerful for anyone to force into therapy', and then I go and self examine and realize that I'm actually doing arguably good, mature, positive things, and here's the fucked up, I cannot believe it's not butter, utterly inconceivable thing about it: I'm not doing different shit. I'm still getting my fuck on. I'm still gonna go get drunk off my ass. I still, on increasingly irregular occasions, kick the shit out of someone, or threaten someone, or shit like that. But I'm doing it for entirely different reasons, and that makes all the fuckin' difference in the world.

I really hope I'm not lying to myself.

Of course, if somebody told me tomorrow that if I deliberately set myself back to utter self-hatred and self-destructive behavior, but it would absolutely guarantee Marie a smooth delivery of eight completely healthy kittens, and the rest of Siobhan's pregnancy would be at least as smooth as Marie's has been, I'm dead certain I'd be looking for ways to fuck myself up. Which... is not entirely healthy, since 'giving birth' is not the end of things. I think I may still have some self-destructive tendencies. But, y'know, at least now they're totally focused on 'price I would pay to help my loved ones' and not 'something I'd do to get rid of my worst enemy'.

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I'd say I'm not my own worst enemy, but then I realize that I've come to fully own the fact that I'm Mimic, that Mimic is me, and I would not have stopped Saffron if she hadn't stopped pushing Siobhan down. I don't know if it's more disturbing that I know that's true, or that I don't feel some kinda way about it. Okay, that's not exactly true. I feel hungry, and vaguely ashamed, and weirded out because this is not the eating disorder I expected to have.

So I brought home the new normal of crab burgers, cheesy egg paninis, salad, tartare meat paste, tureens of soup and salad, some cubed steak in a nice citrus sauce, and like four kinds of bread. Black, rye, unleavened, and crunchy Norfolk flat bread. Kinda pushing how much I can do in the kitchen, especially since the Academy Dining Hall, like always, is comparatively mainstream here and now stuff like medium well beef, rehydrated salt pork, and lightly salted basted chicken. I'd long since stopped wondering about the high meat content of everything there. Seriously, when I think about it, I'm surprised the Cadets aren't just eating the fuckin' tables. The less beefy cadets are lifting weights I'd expect from gym rats. Hildegarde and Saffron lift shit that would put them in the Olympics or strong man lifting competitions. Helen. Shit, Helen is a straight up super hero.

I'm not sure whether Saffron is way out of the norm one way or the other, either. Like, she never did the serious hardcore weight training like I did, and she certainly isn't doing that now, but I suspect some of her Titles boost her up a bit, and I'm not sure how that affects things.

So last night after dinner, after bath time, after everybody slipped off to sleep, I stepped up to my office. Then to the top of the West Tower. Then to M-Space.

I kinda wobbled there, looking down at... oh, holy shit my ladies looked absolutely delicious, and I had no idea what to do with that information, especially since they were, to the best of my knowledge, literally made of foodstuffs. It did not help in the slightest that somehow Karen had delivered them all spray bottles full of hot sauce, and they were all running around the jungle of tentacles writhing around and over my Maw, spraying one another with wild abandon, screaming mostly in apparent glee, with the occasional interruption like when Tallulah managed to land a full face spritz on Saffron, who screamed out, "oh, you bitch!" then dove into my Maw, splattering when she hit the surface, reappearing a few moments later to ram into Tallulah at speed, splattering again, whereupon Tallulah crumpled under the soupy assault, her cake crumpling to pieces as the two fell into my Maw giggling.

Why does my lady made of cake have the least cake?

Yeah, I stood there pondering that. I'd say something like 'no self service occurred, my hands remained on the railing the entire time', but let's face it, I was right next to the heart of my tentacles.

At one point late well into the night I realized that the sun would be rising soon, and someone had been whispering, calling to me, singing to me in a really creepy creaky voice that sounded almost like Other Mother tryna cosplay Jessica Rabbit. Still couldn't tell whatever whoever it was was tryna tell me, but as the singing, crooning call faded, it faded into the sun last.

Woke up in the bedroom as everybody else finished dressing. "Did you enjoy last night?" whispered Siobhan.

"Uh. Yeah. Kinda. Your idea?" She nodded. "Why?"

She smiled at me, fluffed her hair. and smiled even wider. "Because I can feel the edges of your guilt when you look at me." She sighed, pulled me close. "Would you die to make me happy?"

"Maybe. Probably. Yeah, I think so."

She snorted. "Easier for you than me, since you've done it before, but still. Why would you think I'd do less for you?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, no, I'd walk away from it. If stupid high Endurance doesn't do it, Co-Locating will."

She nodded, smiling softly. "As you wish. May it be so."

"Uh, what?"

She just grinned. "Don't worry ab..." I scooped her up and stepped to the water closet just in time.

In the Academy suite, as I settled her in for the day, Saffron paused and asked, "do we have a direction?"

I shrugged. "East, I think."

"You think."

I might have blushed a little, then grabbed my own private stress balls to distract myself, not to mention Saffron. "Yeah. Uh. Got distracted last night."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

She leaned back against me. "Good."

"But didn't you need a direction to start looking for those voices and shit?"

She shrugged one elbow, brought her hands around to adjust mine, squeezed my fingers together until she let out an amused, satisfied little hiss, then said, "we have one. More information would always be useful, love, but never fear. If 'east' is all we have, 'east' is what we'll work with."

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