Diary of a Teenaged Mimic

Day Seven Hundred And Fifty


Dear Diary,

"Justification does not, Mean freedom from Consequence, Just that I won't Deny you." - Tabitha Diaz, Doctrine of Tabitha, Book of Justified Homicide

In this Verse of the Book of Justified Homicide, our Goddess reminds us of the lessons of the Testament of Values, wherein she spoke of Agency, Egalitarianism, and Redemption, but throughout reminded us that Actions have Consequences. That Agency is the greatest power given to Mortals, and as she has said to me in private times of prayer, with great power comes great responsibility. Thus when we use our Agency to commit Homicide, even when it is Justified, we may still be tried, for the Consequences of our actions cannot be set aside. She also, in this Verse, assures us that should we kill and it is Justified, that she will remain by our side, not denying us so long as we decide to accept the Consequences of our Homicide. - Priestess Most High Above All Others, Archmage Imperator Saffron Aetos-Diaz, Commentary on the Doctrine of Tabitha

Okay, this one makes me feel a lot better. Not just because Saffron makes it clear that my Holy Book, the Doctrine, really does come together as a Holy Text, with shit referencing other shit and reinforcing the earlier concepts, meaning it's got some possibility of not turning into a Manual for Fascist Dictatorship. Also because I'm not the only one who occasionally needs to be a little silly.

I'm not sure, but I think that's way more important than most people realize. Sure as shit back in the day I watched so many people ignore good things, fun things, even sometimes the Right Thing, because it would ruin their gravitas. I can maybe almost get it if they were doing it for the aesthetic. Although to be clear, I don't think maintaining an aesthetic justifies letting people die. Full stop on that, I will not be accepting criticism on that position. Anyone thinking 'my image is more important than that person's life' has their priorities fucked. Possibly fucked beyond repair.

I remember at one point way back in the day, I think it was in ROTC, but it might have been Social Studies or History, one of my teachers talked about gravitas. About how leaders need to maintain an image or people won't follow them. Thing is, gravitas isn't just 'image'. It's a particular image, built around being calm and unflappable and clearly not bothered by whatever the fuck is going on. Which, I get it, sometimes as a leader you need to get people to follow you when they've got no reason whatsoever to follow you. But here's the thing; the answer to that doesn't have to be gravitas. Lots of different shit will work.

I mean, I got people following despite being the antithesis of gravitas, because I let them know that I would absolutely throw down on their behalf, would be leading from the front, turning former enemy strongholds into parking lots, leaving my troops nothing to do but paint the lines. Yeah, at the time I wasn't there yet, especially while I was still recovering from the Battle of the Walls, but what I did was leadership, not management. That shit where you scream 'follow me, boys, to death and Glory' and charge the enemy like there is less than zero possibility that you will fail to get your Glory on. Which hits harder when your people have seen you go one on one with shit that makes Heroes shit themselves, but we were talking about times when you don't get reputation.

I guess what I have is confidence, which is fuckin' hilarious from inside my head. Gravitas, if they used it right, would be about unflappability. You can also be the scariest motherfucker on the field of battle, and folks will fear you worse than whatever else is in the way. But way too often I saw folks going on like if anyone ever saw them laugh, or God forbid laughed at them, then the next time there was a crisis they'd be useless. Makes me wonder if they've got worse self-image problems than me, or if it's just another Toxic Masculinity thing.

In my experience, those two things go hand in hand.

Huh? Sorry, Dad, still not firing on all cylinders, can you explain that one to me?

He chuckled in my brain. Of course, Daughter. I have discovered that is, in fact, the third most important duties of the father of an adult daughter.

Third?

After spoiling my grandchildren and supporting your mother.

I laughed at that. Okay, but you were saying?

I've come to realize that while masculinity often, in our imperfect world, requires a man to be capable of violence, it need not require employing it on every occasion. I can, as you did with the Griffon yesterday, choose to be gentle. Choose to de-escalate, to use your words.

Huh. How's that tie in to gravitas?

There are those who are not confident in their strength, their character, their impact. and anything that calls it into question causes them to lash out. Which is, as you've noted, counterproductive. Toxic is the word I heard you use.

Huh. Thanks for the explanation, Dad. You're the best.

I know.

So yesterday after a Griffon learned better, the girls wanted to bring it home as a pet, but I'd noticed something when I grabbed her, and gently but firmly told them I didn't think it was a good idea, and that I'd explain why when we got home. Which is how I wound up carrying a full grown Appalachian Griffon around through most of the afternoon. Which, to be fair, wasn't a big deal. Nigh infinite number of limbs for the win.

Unlike the one that blindsided me back during the Expedition's march to Lancaster House, I managed to get a decent look at this one. It was smaller than I'd thought, but that shouldn't have been surprising, what with having to fly and shit. Overall its basic body layout was 'mountain lion with wings'. Its head reminded me as least as much of the Draconic shit I'd seen here and now than an eagle or anything. I mean, it wasn't un-eagle-like, and if somebody told me it was the result of some Mage sort experimenting with crossbreeding big raptors with big cats, I'd roll with it. But some part of me remembered Hole Spawn, and Dire Bears, and...

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Y'know, I was never really into tabletop games like D&D back in the day, but you can only see so many memes before you sort of understand the concept of the Horny Bard by osmosis if nothing else. I'd just realized that the Dragons of here and now might very well be the Horny Bards of this world. The Rikers and Kirks, if you will. The X rated Ash Ketchums, although that would more be furries, and as I've already mentioned, that's Bag.

Of course I realized as we all strolled back into the Courtyard that I'd yet to see a Dragon Bag Hybrid. That thought was immediately banished by the sight of working women glancing at the group of us returning, waving in greeting, noticing the Griffon hovering along behind me wrapped up in semi-corporeal tentacles, shrugging, and going on about their day. Really made me wonder how far that particular nonchalance could be pushed. I kinda pondered about carting Siobhan around behind me like a sexy stress ball, and that might have gotten a little detailed until she whispered into my brain, any time you like, my Hero.

Didn't think you'd be into that kind of public, uh...

I'll admit, it does scare me a little. Which...

Oh. Yeah. I chuckled. Maybe when you're not miserable all the time? Wouldn't want you to not enjoy it.

So considerate.

The guys helped everyone brush down the Nightmares, and when we broke out the feed for them and Baby, which was basically big hunks of questionable cuts of bear, liberally mixed with nicer cuts, I grabbed up what looked like a leg. Big bone with muscle wrapped around it. The girls followed as I carried the Griffon outside, at which point I said, "Okay, girls. Don't get too close, because she's not a pet, and I don't want to scare her, but take a good look at her underside."

I turned her a little; by this point she didn't so much squirm as sigh. The girls looked, and I nodded to Lindsey when she spotted it first, but she just shook her head. Then Ria said, "she's nursing?"

I nodded. "Yep. Which means?"

Of course at that point Isnomi's eyes got wide and she said, "kiddens!"

"Yep. Kittens. And if she's nursing them, they're too little to survive on their own."

"Bwing dem home!"

I shook my head gently. "I'm sure you could convince her to be sort of calm, but... where are they?"

She got such a puss on her face at that. "Dunno."

"You can't exactly ask her, either, can you?" She shook her head. "So the reason she came at us is because she's hungrier than she is smart. So the best we can do is give her some food and let her get back to them, right?"

"Ah, tay." She walked slowly over to the Griffon, and I held it still while she lay a hand on it. Okay, it trembled a bit when she got within reach, but more trembling in terror than anger. Not that it would matter if it snapped at her. "Go home, gwiffon."

It went still, I waited for Menace to step back, and then I laid the meat in front of it and set it down. It looked around at us, then at the meat, then back to us. Between one second and the next it lunged at the big hunk of meat, then bolted off, taking the to sky. The girls all waved good bye, then went back in to use up all that 'wanting a new pet' energy on pampering Baby and the Nightmares. Okay, Mister Slither got some of that too, to the point that he followed us all in when we went inside.

Dinner. Oh, lord, dinner. Marie was back, baby. Sushi and tempura. So good. We also teamed up to make a shit ton of fried rice. None of it went to waste, even the fried rice, because my magnificent Maenad carried all the leftovers up and shoveled them into me where I lay feeding kittens. I totally get why they want me on kitten feeding duty; if my milk is in fact the superior baby feed, I want my kids getting as much as possible.

Dreamt of the ladies turning my Maw into some kind of assembly line designed to turn shrimp and beans and Worship of all kinds into milk into kittens.

Woke up and whispered to Saffron. "Hey, Kitten?"

"You're talking to me now?"

I chuckled. "You will always be my Kitten, Saffron. Always you." She smiled and snuggled into me. "Yeah, careful with the regimentation, please?"

"It really bothers you that much?"

I thought about it. Nodded. "Yeah. I can just about convince myself that you guys aren't hurting yourselves doing that. That I'm not actually eating you alive. But... when it gets all mechanical, I worry that it'll happen and I won't even notice. Or something like that."

"So our Goddess is mandating whimsey?"

I rolled my eyes. Then chuckled a little. "Mandatory Fun." She looked at me, a question in her eyes, and I explained, "album title. Singer named 'Weird Al Yankovic'. Just... really funny songs."

She rolled over and looked up at me. "Should I ask your father to scry on him, that we might recreate those songs for you?"

I thought about that, then shrugged. "Not gonna push you to do that, but I can't see where I'd be upset by that. If you want?"

She nodded, and then it was time to go about our day.

My day, which included bodyguarding two Heads of State, pampering one poor Healer, although I now had three other women sitting with me in the bedroom doing that as well, visiting the Infirmary to make sure things were getting done, which included pitching in with paperwork and a bit of triage. Oddly that latter mostly was just Stabilizing Cadets who'd come down with heat prostration. Without really giving it much thought, I popped one of me up to the Courtyard, where Lachlan had a class doing Endurance training. I didn't want to jostle his elbow, but I did set up some weight equipment, shrank myself down to about Menace sized, and did some lifting. Gotta keep training if I'm gonna be lying around all day. Speaking of, along with taking the kids out to help in the fields under the supervision of the women responsible for them, I lay around all day feeding two voracious kittens at a time. Bonnie and Lucas were still with us, and I think at one point in there he wound up latched on. Fuck it, not like Bonnie did more than snerk and smile when a kitten found her instead of Marie or me.

I'm just glad I can Co-Locate while doing that, because holy fuck is that shit boring as fuck when it's just Marie and me; neither of us is one for small talk or gossip. I think my mind was turning to tapioca as I did it. I mean, Bonnie's non-stop chatter about Lancaster House's daily domestic drama did the same thing, but it was ostensibly adult converstion. Still, I can Co-Locate, so that's definitely gonna be what I'm doing while the kittens are growing.

Okay. Mostly what I'm doing. Because for a little bit after each new kitten attached, I just laid there vibing with them. Stroking a hand across their head, watching as they blinked their eyes open bit by bit. Spending those tiny intimate moments with my newest daughters. I kinda wonder if they're gonna have the same vocal problems Marie does; hers aren't as bad as her sisters' any more, but she's still not able to just, y'know, talk. Then again, after millennia of searching for the Perfect Word, I'm not sure she'll ever be chatty.

What she is, though, is very good at making her intentions clear. Like when instead of sending one of me up to our Suite, where I'd towed Saffron to start working on her Inspect again, when it was time for lunch, she brought it herself. Just one of her showing up with a tray, but before I could do anything there were six of her there. Double pit stop for the win. Even better when Saffron, once Marie fed her all of today's sushi platter, including all the wasabi and pickled ginger, turned her head just enough to lock her lips to mine.

When she sat us gently but firmly back in our chair, wrapping my arms around Saffron's waist, Saffron and I chorused, "thank you, Marie."

She collapsed down to two of her, kissed us, collapsed back down to one of her, and grinned at me as she, very obviously reveling in her ability to do so, said, "You're Welcome."

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