Dear Diary,

"Don't forget Bloodlust is still lust, And Agency still matters, Give your opponents a choice." - Tabitha Diaz, Doctrine of Tabitha, Book of Bloodlust

Again in this Verse our Goddess reminds us of her previously stated Values and how the intersect with her Domains. In this case, she makes it clear that while she accepts Bloodlust is a tool we may need in order to achieve Vengeance, to commit Justified Homicide, we are still not to ignore or arrogate the Agency of others. While we are of course ending their Agency, doing so by using Bloodlust to empower our Vengeance is acceptable; seeking Vengeance to gratify our Bloodlust is not. She makes it clear that we must, whether by battle cry or statement of intent, let the villains we seek to destroy know the extent to which we will enjoy their end. Tabitha herself has done so, and allowed those who chose surrender rather than destruction to make amends for their actions. As her devout followers, we ought strive to do no less. - Priestess Most High Above All Others, Archmage Imperator Saffron Aetos-Diaz, Commentary on the Doctrine of Tabitha

Yeah, I feel a little bad about Saffron telling folks to look up to me sometimes. Not even just me being down on myself, either, although that's got plenty of dog in this particular fight. No, I feel bad because while I may be down on myself when it comes to morals, or decisions I've made, or my looks, or my lack of an ass, or any number of things that are way more subjective than my subconscious will let me admit to, I am a fucking Primordial Force of Nature. I mean, I'm not precisely sure which one still, because even though I want to know and suspect certain family members know, I also know they know I want to know, and would just tell me if it weren't something likely to set me off into some kind of depressive tail spin.

Yeah, that's not something I'm really happy about, but then what I know is that as Mimic, I'm a Primordial of the Pantheon of Terror. Which means whatever my core Domain is, it's something that routinely violates the virtue of the hindbrain in creepy awful ways. I know it's not Chaos, Darkness, Drought, Fire, Predators, or the Sun, because each of those belongs to somebody else. There's one more I'm aware of that I'm not saying, because it would be rude and I'm not that kind of Bad Mom. Technically I'm the Primordial of 'Blight', which is a fancy way of covering both Disease and other Disease adjacent shit, and Death, which I really need to pay attention to, because I do not want to accidentally off somebody. I'm still not confident that I wasn't in some small way responsible for the Plague hitting Grandmother's Village.

So... something terrifying that's not on that list. Some part of me wants it to be something weird from the myths I read back in the day, like 'Hope', because even though that shit is terrifying, I could live with being the Mor Primordial of Hope. Which, unfortunately, means it's not. Not something I could look at with any kind of pride. Either that, or it's something that maybe I could be proud of, but something about it is gonna fuck with my head, big time. Which makes me think my Kitten knows and has threatened everyone else who knows with a slow, painful death that makes The Morrigan's current situation seem like playing with whipped cream or some other kink barely worthy of the word.

My point, though, is that I am a fuckin' Primordial Force of Nature, and my major problem when it comes to dealing with assholes who I'm gonna get off on offing is keeping the collateral to furniture, buildings, and maybe some landscaping. Y'know, shit that at the end of the day can be rebuilt, repaired, or at worst recycled. Holding other people to my standards just doesn't seem fair. Although I guess I'm the ultimate judge of both whether they succeeded or not, as well as what prizes and penalties they're gonna receive. So telling them to aim high might be a Good Thing, just so long as I'm not making such a big ask that they give up and go all Dexter and shit. The serial killer, not the mad scientist.

Fucking shitballs, Conrad is Dexter. Like, both of them at once. I have no idea what to do with that information.

So yesterday, after having the Marshall stay over two nights running and not spending either of them doing more than hanging out getting a little lit on Devorah's miracle mead, as the day came to a close Saffron met us right outside East House.

"Imperator. You've a lovely Homestead, and the past few days have been... Surprisingly restful, but I think..."

"Come now, William. No need to be so formal. After all, it's not like you'll be heading back yet."

DuBois sighed. "I work for you, Imperator."

She smiled. "Oh, William. Call me Saffron. Mrs. Diaz if you absolutely must." She hooked her arm through mine and tugged me close enough duBois couldn't avoid hearing her and whispered, "although if you don't scream 'Saffron' at least once while we're having our way with you, I'll be deeply disappointed. In myself, mostly. Although incoherent noises of pleasant lack of control would be fine." She turned and stood on tiptoe to plant a kiss on my cheek. "Don't you agree, love?"

I snorted, wondering if she intended to kick off the Marshall's Gold Watch early. Also kinda wondering what it would be like to be with a guy named William. Then I had a vaguely concerning thought. "Uh, Marshall?"

"Yes, Champion?" I glared at him, and he rolled his eyes and said, "Yes, Diaz?"

I smiled, warm fuzzies in my chest as I said, "you're into girls, right? Like, into enjoying getting into them?"

He shook his head, but more in completely understandable frustration at my never ending bullshit than any kind of negation. "Yes, Diaz. I enjoy the intimate company of women."

"Oh. Cool!" I turned to Saffron, but kept talking to him. "So, uh, you wanna try some more kinds of pizza? Friday is usually pizza night, and..."

I trailed off as Saffron shook her head, chuckling. "What else is on Fridays, love?"

"Oh. Oh, shit. I almost forgot."

She outright laughed. "Are you bored with having your way with Worshippers from every corner of the Alliance already?"

"No! Fuck, no. It's never really been about 'interesting' anyway. Although yeah, most of them are. It's..."

I trailed off again, because she was smiling and laughing again. "I know that, love."

I took a deep breath, pulling myself back, dropping dinner off in the dining room, bringing everyone home as I collapsed back to one of me. Madeline?

Yes, Goddess?

Are there any other Volunteers at Norfolk?

Not as such, no. Although by the time you return there, there likely will be. But...

I heard the hesitation in her mental voice, and kept my own cheerful and encouraging. Sixth. Okay, my sense of humor was a bit heavy on in jokes. Never mind, what's up?

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Priestess Most High Above All Others had a request, and the rest of us all agreed to it, if you Consent.

I looked down at my Kitten. "You wanted something particular tonight, Kitten?"

She nodded. "I do. But before that," she turned to duBois. "William, would you like to see what awaits you at some unspecified future date?"

He snorted, then shrugged and shook his head. "I can't tell if that's a stupid idea, a brilliant one, or somewhere in between, but... Sure. I'd love to."

She reached out, and his big paw engulfed her hand. She turned to me and thought, so, love. Do you Consent?

I still don't have any piercings.

Oh, you will. But not tonight. Do you Consent?

Why do I feel like if I say 'yes', I'm Consenting to a whole shit ton more than I expect.

She smirked at me. Because despite your constant self-deprecation, you are a very smart woman. Now, I ask you a third time, do you Consent to my request, Goddess?

I looped my hand around her waist, pinning one of her arms behind her, pulling her tight against me. You're getting me a little nervous, which does not lubricate the love tunnel the way it does with Siobhan. So... She Grinned up at me, ran her tongue across her lips. Okay, yeah. I Consent.

The next few moments were a blur. I know the three of us, for the briefest of moments, shared the Bedroom with all of my ladies in their stripperiffic wedding gowns. I'm not sure William even caught that, or that for an even briefer moment, one of the two Karens in the room touched his hand where Saffron held it. My Blend dropped, spread, rose around us. A moment later the two of us occupied each of my Altars, a High Priestess nearby in all but Norfolk.

Olga sat cross legged with Svart in the hollow formed by her legs, both of them smiling at the Altar like somebody waiting for a summer blockbuster premier. Madeline held out one hand, pulling Marylin into a sloppy waltz around the perimeter of the Altar. Marie prowled the perimeter of the New Amsterdam altar, sniffing the air and purring at our arrival. In Phileo, Karen settled the Marshall into one of the better top row seats, dropping into his lap with what looked like a steak pre-sliced into bite sized pieces, lifting one in front of him. "Since I know you haven't eaten yet, Marshall."

I say 'occupied' because Saffron had posed each pair of us under cover of my expanded Blend. In New Amsterdam we knelt facing one another, her arms slipping around my face and drawing me in to kiss me. In Norfolk she straddled my lap, facing Olga, arching and twisting just enough to whisper, "Olga's never seen this before, love," as I slipped inside her. While my newest High Priestess slowly spun her partner in endless circles around the Altar, Saffron reached his hand down to wrap around both our rapidly expanding boy parts. He smiled up at me, both of us standing upright on the altar. "Madeline and Marylin are both enamored of the Patroc novels in your collection." In Phileo, he looked down at me with a hunger I hadn't seen since the day we tore the old Temple down. "I think it's time and past time we really put this Altar to the test."

Before I could argue or even comment, Saffron dropped all my expanded Blends. Worship flowed as my Kitten engaged my senses and thrilled my Worshippers in four different Cities.

Well, she dropped all but the Blend on the helicopter pad at the rear of the Black Dragon, where she hopped up to plant a more or less chaste kiss on my lips before saying, "do try to pay attention to the Marshall's briefing, love," before collapsing back into herself.

For his part, the Marshall's hand kept clenching. I sighed. "Go on. If it makes you feel any better. I get it, I'm not gonna get all pissy with you."

He pursed his lips, then shook his head. "This isn't even you."

I reached out, took his hand, not reacting when he snatched it away. "Yeah, yeah it is, Marshall. Still me. Still dumbass Diaz."

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, let it out, then looked at me. "No. I saw you. Saw you at the Battle of the Walls. Underhill."

I nodded. "Yeah. That's me. So is this. I can be more than one thing at a time." Right about then, I was doing more than one thing at a time. Doing more than one Kitten at a time, and holy fuck that was both awesome and distracting. Literally holy fuck, apparently, what with it being right there on my Altars. Maybe not literally doing more than one Kitten at a time, what with at least one of me entirely in 'being done' mode. I shook my head. "Let's get inside."

I kept my Blend up and turned to see Orla standing there, waiting. I reached out with a tentacle and pulled her into my Blend. She snapped to attention and saluted. "Marshall! Champion!"

"Not you too." I sighed. "Lead on."

Without another word she did. By the time I got a few decks down, I felt kinda weird. Almost like during the Liberation of Calverton. In fact, almost exactly like I had right before that fuckin' helmet melted down. "Uh, Orla? Is this a good idea?"

She opened a hatch, waved me through, and said, "the Imperator believes thousands of tons of water-cooled Cold Iron should be enough to avoid melting."

I sighed. "Okay. Could you, uh, let me know if the water outside the hull starts boiling or some stupid shit like that?"

"Will do, Ma'am." With that she closed the hatch, leaving the Marshall and I... in a store room. Definitely not some place anybody was likely to scry on at random.

I flopped my ass down on a pile of sacks, which by their lumpiness contained some kind of root vegetables. Probably not potatoes, but maybe. Not like this wasn't the Alliance flagship. Then I turned to the Marshall. "Hey, Marshall. Cop a squat. You need to brief me on Boltophsberg, and I think you and I need to maybe talk about things. Before or after, your choice."

He frowned, nodded, went to say something, and his face split in a huge yawn. "Sorry." He shook his head. "Sorry, Cadet, er, Cha..."

"No. I'm good with Cadet. Feels weird, my mentor deferring to me about... anything, really."

"I'm not your mentor."

That... that stung. I slumped. Shook my head, trying to think of something, anything to say. "Please?"

He frowned at me. "Seeing you like this is just... You looking like Tabitha is one thing. I think maybe I forgot who you really are."

I sighed. "I am Tabitha, Marshall. I..."

"No. No, you're not. I don't know what you did with her, or when you did it, but..." He frowned. "It was at the Battle of the Walls, wasn't it? She died, and you took over her identity?"

I sighed, realized I couldn't slump any more, realized I really shouldn't slump anyway, and pushed myself up into something like a seated Attention. "Sorry, Marshall, but you're not in possession of all the facts."

He frowned. "So when did it happen?"

I shook my head. "Take a seat. This might get long, or it might be one of those 'you flop on your ass when you hear it' things. Trust me, you do not want to flop onto one of these sacks. Comfortable they are not."

He rolled his eyes, but sat. "So. What tale are you gonna tell me?"

"It starts seven hundred and sixty seven days ago, in a city called Camden, across the river from a city named Philadelphia." Over the course of... I'm not sure how long it took, but I told him. I told him about cutting school, and getting shot, and waking up in the Aquarium in Camden Yards. I told him about waking up in the Academy Infirmary, and Sister Siobhan giving me just enough of a shove to get me rolling toward being a Hero. I told him about finding out I was Mimic, and told him about finding out what that meant.

He asked questions. He frowned a lot. He barked out a few laughs at some of my dumber dumbass stunts, especially ones he hadn't heard about, like getting hosed with Hole Spawn guts. Slowly, ever so slowly, the tension left his shoulders. By the time I got to getting married to Marie, he'd leaned back against the wall, hands on the sack he sat on, bracing and balancing him. "So. That's the story. I'm... I'm Mimic, yeah. Both this," I waved a hand at myself. "And the continent spanning mass of tentacles. And I'm Tabitha Diaz. Especially here," I tapped my forehead.

He sat there for a while, silent. But not tense. Eventually he snorted, then let out a single bark of laughter. "Y'know what?"

"Chicken butt?"

He opened his mouth, closed it, frowned at me, then shook his head again. The worried frown replaced by a far more traditional and comfortable 'WTF, Diaz' look, he said, "I was just thinking to myself that nobody in the fuckin' world would possibly believe all that bullshit. Hell, nobody sane would even think it up. Y'know the only one with the right combination of stupid and crazy to even try?"

I shrugged. "Karen?"

He laughed. "No, Karen's smart. Probably why she thinks I don't know she's pretending to be me at the moment." I'm not sure what he saw on my face, but he smiled. "Mirrors all over the room and I'm not gonna notice her sneaking up behind me and Shapeshifting into me?"

I cleared my throat, and when he raised an eyebrow, said, "just because I'm tryna be extra honest with you, Mimicking you."

He shuddered. "Yeah. Only my fuckin' protege Tabitha would say something that dumb trying to make me feel better." I opened my mouth, and he glared. "I am not completely copacetic with this, just so you understand." Then his expression softened. "But hell. Maybe after all the dumbass shit I pulled when I was your age, this is my chance to set shit right. To somehow convince... no, show the Walking Ragnarok how to be..."

When he paused, searching for words, I smiled and said, "a Hero?"

"Yeah. Yeah," he interrupted himself with a huge yawn. "Yeah, I can live with that."

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