Chương 332: Day Three Hundred And Thirty

Dear Diary, Some days I really don't know why I try to be nice to people. Okay, I know why I try. Yeah, my murderfuck rampage on Johnson's Green was fun and cool and all, but to be honest I enjoyed the after party way more, and yesterday's pounce fest was even better, and nobody died. I don't feel guilty about killing King Shitdick or his lackey, Shitdick Two, Wrath of Berserker Shitdickier. I barely even feel guilty about getting off killing Ericson at this point.

But I do kinda feel guilty about not feeling guilty, if you see what I'm saying. So yeah. I try to be nice to people, because if everybody were as nice and kind as we could be, just maybe the world would be a better place. Not perfect. Shit still happens. People die. Food goes bad, diseases evolve, accidents and natural disasters happen, and people die. But shit, in Phileo we all pitched in against the fuckin' Plague, and guess what? We lost, I dunno, a few thousand people.

At a guess, half of them because of the actions of a few assholes who didn't get the message. I mean, I get it. Pennypack was just some random asshole who didn't get it. But... after that first dude, how did the others not get it? At what point does 'ignorance' become 'complicity'? And why, holy fuckballs why the fuck am I having to think about this shit? I never asked for this kind of power. I just wanted to fuck around and watch sharks. Sometimes it seems like it just doesn't pay to do the right thing.

So yesterday we got to class in the afternoon, and I mostly sat there grinning like an idiot about how many little hickey spots I'd have if we hadn't all been fuzzy in the morning. Seriously, Conrad's foam darts had little suction cups on the front, and they stuck to flat surfaces hard when they hit. Against fuzzy targets like Marie, Menace, or me and Saffron Mimicking Menace? They bounced off. Oh, they tagged hard enough we knew we'd been tagged, but not much harder than flicking somebody with an index finger.

Which makes me think we should have been wearing eye protection, but that's what Heal Spells are for, right? At any rate, Saffron stood up at the front of the room working on the Smite Spell all afternoon. Unfortunately, while weaponizing a Healing spell definitely falls under the umbrella of 'wrecking shit', in this case my own contribution amounted to the initial inspiration and not much else.

But at the end of the day, after everyone else left the classroom, Saffron came up to me and said, "I'll need your assistance on Wotansday, love."

"What happens on Wednesday? Other than me finally getting my Battleships?" She chuckled a little at my ongoing infatuation with riding a Queen of the Seas, then said, "I'll be emplacing my second Global Spell." It took me a second, because I am, as noted, a dumbass.

"Oh, shit. Smite is ready?" She nodded.

"And you're making it Global?" She shrugged.

"Can you think of a reason we would deny someone the ability to protect themselves against Undead?" I pulled her to me, bonked our foreheads together.

"I am so fuckin' proud of you, Kitten."

"None of this would have happened without you, you realize?" I rolled my eyes.

"Shit, Kitten, you do all of the heavy lifting. I just pump you full of Mana." She giggled.

"You make even that sound titillating, but no, you inspired all of this. Just an offhand comment, yet it set all this in motion. Just... trace it all back. You being you, refusing to be other than you, and all of this is the result." I frowned.

"A town full of Undead is the result." She frowned right back.

"Did you fire those arrows?" Before I could answer, she cut me off.

"Did you miss? Really, love, you need to stop blaming yourself for what other Gods do when they throw tantrums because you refuse to allow them to use us as playthings."

"I've, uh, kinda used you as a plaything. More than once."

"With my explicit consent, Goof. Never forget that."

"I don't." I sighed.

"I think if I forgot about that? I'd probably end myself. Or go full on demon. Honestly, I hope I'd off myself, but I think I'd probably just become the monster people assume I am." Saffron's hands on my shoulders, her Mana Blades slid out behind my neck.

"Don't even joke about that, love. Promise me you will not kill yourself."

"What if it's the right thing to do?" She narrowed her eyes.

"Then you will discuss it with me, and if I'm in agreement, we will see to it together." I let out a lungful of air.

"What if you're... biased. You've told me, you'll be fine with me being a monster." She pulled me into her breast, Mana Blades dispersing.

"I would be, love; and if you're happy that way, I will be happy as well. But... I will bow to your wishes. My Goddess. My Wife. My Love. My Goof. Should you become a monster you despair to be, I will see to it you do not live to fall prey to that despair."

"Thank you." Not sure if the frantic pace of shrimp delivery to Mimic last night came from that discussion, from my subconscious need to avoid falling prey to my Lizard Bois need for a monster to lead them, or just because Mimic liked her shrimp and chefs, and her chefs liked feeding her. Including feeding themselves to her. God that fucks with me. Remember, daughter, your alter-ego lives in Metaphoric Space. Where Metaphors are often as real as those who perceive them.

Yeah, I'm not sure I like the metaphor that I'm literally consuming the people who love me. Ambrosia and Idunn's apples are red herrings. Worship is the one true food of the Gods. That your worshippers are so zealous, despite your reservations? Speaks volumes about their opinion of you. Yeah, well. I'm not sure I agree with them. So strive to live up to their opinion of you. Yeah. Yeah, I think I can do that. Thanks, Boss. You're the best. I know. Woke up surprisingly refreshed.

After some pleasant three way canoodling before Menace woke up, a solid breakfast with items stolen from the Academy, Drivers', and Lancaster House's kitchens, I dropped Menace at Loki's with a Marie to watch over her. Saffron snagged one of me and one of Marie to keep her nominally entertained in the Love Shack while she went about her day of coding, and I pulled a Marie and Saffron, both decked out in their finest, along with me to Norfolk.

I decided to go with The Dress in her normal form, because while I'm all for being Turbo Slut Nine Thousand, I didn't feel like deliberate full frontal during my planned troop review. When we arrived, all four of the folks I'd mentally dubbed my 'court' in Norfolk were chatting over breakfast. From the next room over I heard the dull roar of a cafeteria sized room full of people eating and socializing. One leg draped over an arm of my throne, Kitten in my lap, Marie to my left, I greeted everybody.

"Hey, guys! How goes?" Skasn looked down at me and said, "well enough; who are your companions?" I turned to my Kitten and said, "Imperator Aetos-Diaz, these four are the ones who've been helping me transition Norfolk into the Alliance." Waving at each one and giving them a moment to nod, I introduced them.

"Guild Master of the Duelist's Guild, Duelist Champion Skasn; former Jarl Mage Weyson, who is probably the most knowledgeable local I know when it comes to Norfolk Law, former Jarl Svart, who has been handling most of our operational organization; and his mate, Skasn's daughter, and my presumptive choice for next Queen of Norfolk, Duelist Champion Olga... Skasnsdotter?" Olga nodded.

"Your accent is atrocious, but close enough. If there's another Olga out there wanting to claim what's mine, I'd be glad to discuss it with her." I sighed and nodded toward the open door. Skasn took the hint and nudged it closed, cutting off some of the sound from the other room.

"Olga, Svart, Weyson, Skasn, this is the Imperator of the Inter-City Alliance, my wife, Saffron Aetos-Diaz." I nodded to Marie.

"Marie, this is everybody, everybody, this is Marie, Head Maid of Phileo City Heroic Academy and Psychopomp Maenad of Dionysus." Olga sucked her teeth.

"Kind of odd that you'd bring a God to the table, and not one of ours at that."

"She's our Concubine. Gonna be our Wife as soon as we can convince her it's safe. My kid's a little disruptive, or I'd have brought her along as well. But now that I think about it..." Boss? Cool air flowed out from behind me, and with a shriek of, "Mama!" Menace leapt from Sigyn's arms to join Saffron on my lap.

"Yes, Daughter?" Loki's full Jotnar-sized hand settled on the back of my throne. Without ever turning away from the court I said, "Thanks, Dad." After a brief pause I said, "I'm not bringing Gods here to impress or intimidate you four. If you weren't intimidated by me getting off popping Ericson's head like an overripe melon, or by killing Shitdick with pure Mana through his Cold Iron Juggernaut Cosplay, you're not going to be intimidated by, y'know, Gods and shit."

I paused half a breath to let that sink in, then said, "I'm introducing you to my family." I stared at Olga specifically.

"So maybe you get how I feel about things." She frowned, nodded, and quietly asked, "have you heard aught of my son?" I sighed and shook my head, "no, sorry. But, y'know, it's been long enough, I think." I reached inward to where my connection to Domnu's Emergency Coring Tentacles hovered and tugged. Not hard enough to force her appearance, but firmly enough she ought to get my fuckin point. Everything in the room got colder, darker, and then she stood facing me in all her dark glory.

"Daughter."

"Mom. Where's Johnson?" She blinked, confused for a moment, then said, "oh. Him." She made a weird hand gesture and a bit of a full body twitch, and Johnson, stark naked, sopping wet, and semi-conscious, dropped to the floor.

"Ow."

"Willy!" Olga didn't bother to stand, she just fast-crawled the dozen or so feet to where her son lay, scooping him up and snuggling him not unlike I'd do with the Menace. Not unlike I did a moment later to Menace and Saffron both, just because I could and Domnu's presence made me all kinds of cranky.

"So. Mom. How have you been?"

"Worshipped." A pause.

"Adequately." I might have shot a glare at her, and she shook her head and muttered, "extremely adequately."

"Put the boy down, woman! He's a grown man, he doesn't need you coddling him!" I wasn't gonna say anything, but apparently Sigyn gets testy when she's reminded of how Mom-shaped Domnu is.

"I think Domnu's coddled him plenty." Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"Really, mother, I'm fine." Johnson actually speaking coherently seemed to mollify Olga, who set him on his feet next to Svart, who reached up and shook his hand. I lost a minute to noticing that Johnson did not, in fact, drag on the ground hanging soft. Not quite. Sort of like D in that 'impressive in the abstract, but Way Too Much in reality' way. Okay, if D saw Johnson he might be envious. Just a little.

At any rate, he drew himself up and, casting adoring eyes on Domnu while still dripping with what on closer inspection did not move quite like water, said, "My Dark Goddess Domnu, I present to you my mother, Champion Duelist Olga of Norfolk, and my father, Jarl Svart of Norfolk."

"Former Jarl," grumbled Svart. Domnu rotated to face Johnson without moving her feet, and when he finished his introduction, took a minute to stare blankly at Olga and Svart before deadpanning, "Champion. Former Jarl. Your Spawn is..." she glanced at me, exasperation clear in her expression and tone.

"Exceptionally Adequate. I find him Acceptable." Almost as an afterthought she said, "You may and ought be proud." Olga sat there, mouth open, like she definitely wanted to say something, but had no idea exactly what to say to a naked Primordial of Privatives who had just declared her son 'Acceptable'. Before she could undoubtedly start shit that would leave me the unenviable task of finding yet another ass to replace mine on Norfolk's throne, I said, "Olga?" She blinked.

"Yes, Liege?"

"If I'm gonna be putting you on the throne, I need you to understand something." She nodded, and I continued.

"Being King or Queen is a job. It's a responsibility. Yeah, you give the orders. You get the nicest house and first pick of desserts. But..." I paused until she nodded again.

"You get those perks because you need some of them to get the job done. If any of those perks get in the way of getting the job done, I expect you to set them aside for as long as you need to. Get it?" She nodded.

"And the job is?" I smiled up at her. I think she got it; the job wasn't 'giving orders'.

"Your job, your responsibility as Monarch of Norfolk, is to make Norfolk the best place to live for everybody in Norfolk. Not just the Jarls. Not just the Heroes, or Warriors. or whatever you want to call your fighters. Everybody." Her lips pursed.

"The Jarls... many of them won't like that."

"The Jarls can suck my ass and pretend they're getting mouthfuls of chocolate cream. If after bitching about not being allowed to rape and murder they convince me my shit is actually the best thing they've ever tasted, I might, and I emphasize might, not do unto them as I did unto Ericson. If they don't, I'm gonna let Domnu hurt them." She nodded.

"Many of them will say it's unnatural."

"Yo! Johnson!"

"Yes, my Seneschal?" I smiled at him.

"Yeah, yeah, get cocky just because you play a meaner guitar than me. How many Thralls have you raped?" His mouth worked, his brows drawing down.

"Dude, I'm not accusing you. How many?" He blinked, then shrugged when he got it.

"None." Weyson cleared his throat. When I looked at him, he said, "I hate to say this, but legally, it is impossible to 'rape' a Thrall. They are property." I glared at him a little, but shit, fucker was just doing his job. I took a deep breath, let it out, and said, "okay. As of right now, no more Thralls. Norfolk is, like the rest of the Alliance, now a zero-slavery zone. No slaves, no Thralls, nobody owns anybody else.

Fuckers want to walk somebody around on a leash, let them find a puppygirl like God and Anime intended." I... you... You realize I'm right here. Yeah. Your support is noted, appreciated, and I'll find a leash and some puppy ears as soon as... AS SOON AS? Y'know, you tell me if you need that collar in Mom size or Jotnar size. Nobody batted an eye when Loki lost his shit laughing. Score one for me.

"Some of the Jarls will no doubt protest that as well." I shrugged.

"Okay, Johnson, since 'not raping Thralls' didn't get my point across, how many Thralls did you have carnal relations with?" When he opened his mouth like he was gonna quibble, I said, "how many did you fuck, or do fuck-adjacent things with?" He got a real sheepish look before he said, "two."

"Dafuq? Really, Johnson?" He threw his hands in the air.

"They snuck into my bedroom! I woke with one of them on my face and the other attempting to impale herself! They refused to let me up until I agreed to teach them, and then refused to let me 'forgo their thanks'! I am but a man, what was I to do?" I couldn't help it, a snicker escaped.

"You telling me that you're the one who didn't Consent?" He waved his hands around in the air, "how could I not and call myself a Man of Norfolk?"

"I... I'm not touching that with a ten foot pole. Or touching your ten foot pole."

"It's not..."

"Look, man, I'm not here to argue about your length or girth. I'm just pointing out that you had more Thralls than any other Jarl I've seen. Hotter ones too, not to put too fine a point on it, because it looks like you managed to feed and clothe them properly, and you didn't rape any of them. Or, y'know, force them to be fuck toys. So you are a walking, talking example that not only can it be done, your whole shit is nicer than theirs because of it."

Olga leaned forward incrementally, getting everybody's attention through sheer size.

"Some would call my son and his policies unnatural."

"Yeah," I growled.

"I'd introduce you to the High Priestess who said and did bad things to my Menace here," said Menace took the opportunity to wave at everybody.

"But she's suffering from an acute case of 'stabbed through the face until her brains splattered all over her bitch Goddess' altar." A slow smile spread across Olga's face.

"So should such find themselves unfortunately underfoot?"

"So long as it's a legit reason and not an excuse for you being lazy?" I grinned back at her, "I'll be real mad if you don't scrape that dogshit off before it stains your shoes."

"Boots."

"You get my point, you big dork." She chuckled.

"I can work with this. Are you ready to review your troops?"

"Can we get them all lined up on the Green?" She frowned.

"On the Green? Yes. Lined up? May be difficult."

"Let's go then!" She nodded, turned, and stepped to the doors into the next room. Slamming them open, she hollered at ear-splitting volume, "okay, you lot! Your Queen is here, and she commands all of you to the Green," she paused just long enough for a few grumbles to start, then shouted, "NOW!" By that point Olga had Skasn on his feet behind her, not to mention Svart and I backing them up.

I'm not really sure how much those of us of normal stature really added to the threat level, what with Olga going full on Angry Giantess, but the room cleared, fast. She turned and nodded to me.

"After you, my Queen." I nodded to her and stepped to the front of our group, then jogged forward to let the bigger Jotnar walk at something approaching an amble rather than shuffling. Loki mentally poked me a second later. Do you need us further, Daughter? Nah. Stick around if you want, take Menace back home if you'd rather. Thanks for having my back, Dad. Any time, Daughter. You're the best. I know.

As we approached the door, the assorted Norfolk Warriors outpacing us in some kind of effort to be first to the Green, Olga murmured down to me, "how did you manage to be adopted by not one but two Deities?" I shrugged and smiled up at her.

"Clean living and humility?" She snorted and stumbled.

"I entranced them both with my rapturous beauty?" She raised an eyebrow.

"You are pretty cute." I shook my head and crossed my forearms in front of me.

"No! I said no to being a Jotnar cock sleeve, I'm also saying no to being a Jotnar dildo. Just no."

"But you'd make such a good novelty... what are those things... the ones small folk make from sheep intestine?"

"I AM NOT A JOTNAR CONDOM!" I roared. Okay, my voice broke in the middle and the rest came out as a squeak, at least in part at how much Olga, Saffron, and Skasn were laughing. Hell, even Marie had got her snicker on.

"Fine. I tricked him and overpowered her. Happy?" If anything, the laughter only got louder.

"Fine, keep your secrets, my Queen." That got me, I don't know why. When we got to the Green, Olga straight up scooped up a fuckin' six foot tall mound of dirt for me to stand on and whomped it down so I wouldn't sink into it. I hopped up, dragging Saffron with me, and looked at the milling crowd. I amplified myself a little with a Message Spell, "Okay, guys, line up!" That got a round of boos and jeering.

One big guy up near the front, who had a crowd of hangers on beside and behind him looking like mini-bosses, shouted out, "we are not Trolls, woman!" I shouted back, "yeah, the Trolls are an actual army, know how to take orders, and I'd be afraid of facing off against all of them at once," I held up one hand, finger and thumb the tiniest bit apart.

"just a little bit. And you call me Queen. Liege. Diaz, if you have the stones and don't want them any more." That got a laugh out of some of the crowd. Mr. Mouthy frowned at the idea I'd got more laughter than him.

"NOT MY QUEEN!" I hopped down to land in front of him. My voice still amplified to carry, I called out, "Oh, is that so? If I'm not your Queen, you're not one of my guys, which means you're just an armed asshole in reach of people I actually give a shit about. Care to adjust your statement?" He looked down at me and, almost like I'd cued it up, roared and swung. I spun, Mana Blades blinking out and back in just long enough to slice off his hands and feet. He stumbled to a stop as I hopped backward.

I caught him by the ears, my thumbnails hovering over his eyes, petite Mana Blades along their edges.

"Look, asshole, I don't know you. I don't care enough about you to get pissed at you. I'd force you on your back and shit in your mouth to make a point, but I don't really need to go that bad right now. But like I said, I don't give a shit about you personally. But I'd hate to think that somebody useful got waxed in Calverton because you weren't there to take the hit. So, how are we gonna get you to the point where you're gonna acknowledge the basic fact of 'me big bitch in charge, you do what I fuckin' say?"

Gotta hand it to him, he had a set of lungs. He thrashed, almost taking his own eyes out on my thumbs, and screamed out, "FUCKING WHORE!" I screamed back, "I AM NOT A WHORE! I DO NOT TAKE PAYMENT! I AM A SLUT, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!" Then, in a voice that matched my sudden boredom with dealing with all this shit, but still amplified to carry across the green, I sighed, "Domnu, remove his testicles and cock as painfully as possible." He screamed. He screamed a lot.

He thrashed, moving me about as much as he did earlier. There were wet noises from beneath as I dragged him back to the mound of dirt, then hopped up and held him by his ears, spinning him so he faced the crowd.

"Imperator, could you put his hands and feet back on, please?" Saffron rolled her eyes at me, then hopped down, collected his hands and feet and, with blinding flares of Mana, reattached them. Meanwhile I did a quick count of his now cowering lackeys. Eight of them all told. Then I leaned over to his ear. Still projecting my voice I said, "okay, dipshit. You need your hands and feet to be useful in Calverton. If you find twenty five people involved in freeing Calverton who tell me you were useful?

You can have the rest back." I dropped him, and he slumped into a groaning heap at the bottom of the mound.

"For the rest of you, LINE THE FUCK UP!" Yeah, it took like five minutes of me looking ever testier, but they got in something approaching lines.

"Good! Now, I'm not gonna tell you all how to fight, or where, or any of that shit." I nodded to Saffron.

"That's her job. Before any of you get any ideas, I'm just gonna tell you this. I'm the NICE one of the two of us. I am, in every way that you all will ever care about, her bitch. Woof. Fuckin'. Woof. On the other hand, she's way smarter than me, and she doesn't like it when her toy soldiers get broken, so as long as you're her toy soldiers, you'll probably remain unbroken toys. Get it?" They all muttered some confused shit.

"This is a simple yes or no question, guys! She is in charge. Do. You. Get. That?" That got a grumbled, mumbled, "yes," out of the crowd.

"Okay. That wasn't hard. Now, she's in charge, she's the one that's gonna direct all y'all to victory and the rewards thereof in Calverton. For those of you who think in small words like me, Follow her, win, get rich. Got it?" That got a big old cheer. Let's hear it for thuggish self interest.

"Okay, guys. Three more things. First, when we're done here, I want you all to send your," I lowered my voice, "former," then raised it again, "Thralls out here to the Green with instructions to line up and listen while my Imperator talks at them. Got it?"

"YES!"

"Cool, cool. Second thing, starting tomorrow we're gonna have a Thing, and we're gonna be putting some Laws together for Norfolk, ones that we're gonna put on paper, ones that other Alliance folks have to follow when they're in Norfolk. Can't make people follow Laws unless you write 'em all down and shit. We'll have scribes and shit copy them all down so everybody gets a copy, and everybody gets their say, but once they're out there, they apply to everybody, okay?" Grumbles.

"Even me."

"Yes!" Okay, note to self, veto any 'Queen must fuck all wannabe fuckbois' Laws. Even if it would be goddamned hilarious to watch Olga ride some dipshit like a disposable Sybian attachment. Shit, now I almost wanted to risk letting those laws through.

"Final thing; I don't want people arguing about old business while we're dealing with lawmaking or Calverton, so today we're gonna do Moots to settle any outstanding debts and shit. If you can't come to a conclusion after..." I did some shitty mental math.

"fifteen minutes, you look for somebody to arbitrate for you. If you can't agree, you come to one of them," I waved at the court, "to arbitrate. If you still can't agree, you come to me. I will absolutely come up with a solution nobody likes, and it will be permanent and binding, and may permanently include me binding your dick up your own ass if you argue. Everybody get that?"

"Yes!"

"Okay then, get your asses back in the longhouse and start Mooting! And don't forget the thing I said about Thralls!" At that point like ninety percent of them cheered and thundered off somewhere. Not sure where. Didn't care, either, because I was, in fact, sick of doing angry violent shit to people who might or might not deserve it. Worse, I knew I likely would have to again before the day let out.

I leaned on Saffron, who snuggled under my arm, and turned to face the four person court I'd just dumped a shit ton of arbitration on. They looked surprisingly okay with the idea, but Olga slipped down into a tailor's seat and bent down to talk a little more privately.

"The Imperator's bitch, huh?" I just smiled, thinking about how much I enjoyed turning my brain off and doing whatever the fuck Saffron told me, especially as regards, y'know, fuck.

"Yeah." She looked at Saffron.

"You're the mean one?" My Kitten shrugged.

"She cares what people think of her. Marginally, at least. She also, not to put too fine a point on it, cares about people. All of them. Even her sworn enemies, although she won't let that stop her from killing them if they force her hand. She even felt marginally guilty about what she did to Ericson, until I convinced her otherwise. Mostly she felt other things, but she did feel guilty." It never ceased to amaze me how un-prudish some of the people here and now were.

Even as some of them screamed out shit about whores, others just took the existence of fucking in stride, like a normal part of life that everybody did. Olga smirked a legitimately giant smirk and asked, "so, if she only felt marginally guilty, what else did she feel?" My Glorious Kitten looked up at the would-be Queen of Norfolk, licked her lips with the maximum amount of suggestiveness, and said, "gritty."