Chương 342: Day Three Hundred And Forty

Dear Diary, Y'know, I think I unintentionally discovered my theme song during the Battle of the Bands when I decided on 'Bitch'. Not the whole 'I'm a bitch' part, even though being a perfectly content vagina haver and the Imperator's Attack Dog would, in fact, make me canonically a bitch. So yeah, I'm a bitch, but I wasn't really talking about that. I'm talking about the whole 'tomorrow I will change and today won't mean a thing' part of the song.

I've never really noticed it before, because I've never really spent this much time really looking at myself, doing the therapy thing. Okay, I'm not talking to a therapist now, because good intentions aside, a massive incursion of Undead who have apparently already spread into the Chesapeake is, in fact, more fucking important than the shit that's fucking around inside my skull.

But I'm still taking time on the daily to self-examine, to think about who and what I am, to ponder, as the age old question goes, 'why am I like this?' It turns out I'm not a bad fit for being a Trickster, since there are good odds the answer to that question, no matter what 'this' I'm talking about, is 'I thought it would be funny at the time', which is pure Trickster if I ever heard it.

Then again, the second most common reason I do anything I do is best described by a word one of my friends back at Eastside came up with.

'Nanastay'. Which translates roughly to 'the horny in me recognizes the horny in you'. Pretty much if I'm not doing shit for the lulz, I'm doing it because the vajayjay hungers for the flesh of men. In the 'humans' sense of that word, not the 'penis havers' sense. Now that I think of it, that part of me really worries me more than the deep dark Primordial Deity which Hungers for the Flesh of All Things.

Seriously, 'being Mimic' is just something I gotta get used to, get control of, get over, in the 'get over yourself' kind of meaning.

'Being the biggest horndog since Zeus' is pure me, and I do not want to turn into fuckin' Zeus. God, why am I like this? I'm not sure it will ease your mind, but... Sleipnir. Huh? Oh. Wait. Yeah, you banged a boy horse. Or would it be got banged by a boy horse? The terms you're looking for are 'stallion' and, appropriately enough, 'getting railed like a mare in heat'. Okay then. Yeah, so 'like father like daughter', but, I mean, Zeus? I see your Zeus and counter with Hilde. I don't...

wait, so it's not the 'I want to fuck the world one hole at a time' that's the problem, it's the 'so I'm gonna do it, no matter the opinion of the hole's owner about me fucking it'? Exactly. That's, oddly comforting. Thanks, Boss, you're the best. I know. So okay, I guess me having 'eternal horndog' as my second driving factor isn't as damning as my upbringing in Neo-Puritan central raised me to believe. Third on my list would be 'nom all the things'.

Which again, Mimic takes to horrifying levels, and I really need to have my Jotnar Femurs shipped back to Phileo. Oh, fuck, I just realized that not only did I think it would be cool to turn the thigh bones of a living, thinking being into chew toys, I decided my wife would like them as gifts, and she totally did. Or said she would? Fuck, now I don't know if she thought 'Jotnar Femur' was an inappropriate gift or she really was pissed that I wanted to give her the extra one.

Hell, now I both feel guilty for coming up with and enacting the Jotnar Femur Chew Toy Plan, offering my wife an excess femur, and also for considering ditching said femurs, since I did kill a motherfucker to get them, and now I'd be wasting femurs, because some part of me bought into that whole, 'waste not, want not', 'starving kids in Africa', 'using every part of the animal makes it moral' bullshit. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Saffron? Yes, love?

Am I a monster for turning Olaf's femurs into chew toys? No, love. Am I a bad wife for giving them to you? Shock colored her reply, Of course not! You wanted those, and you offered me something you obviously wanted for yourself. I found myself slightly put out when I realized you were offering me the extra one, but still, it was obviously something you felt strongly about having, so I accepted the gift in the spirit it was offered. So I'm not a monster? Of course you are. Dafuq?

Love, you are the Avatar of a Primordial Deity of the Pantheon of Terror walking the Mortal Realm. You are, were, and will be monstrous so long as that is true. So I shouldn't be here? Suddenly, interrupting my evening's meditation on the day, she was there, in my lap, legs wrapped around me so tightly it strained Glowing Midnight's skirt slits.

"Never think that, love. You are my dearest love, mother to my child, lover of my concubine, my joy, my humor, my passion. Yes, you are a monster, but sometimes the world needs monsters." She drew me in for a kiss that lasted so long I almost forgot what I'd been thinking about. Almost.

"I don't want to be a monster though." She wrapped her arms around my chest and lay her head on my breast.

"You don't want to be a villain, you don't want to be a monster, you don't want to be Evil." She sighed into my chest, then snuggled into me in a way that distracted me from everything for a little bit.

"You will always be the villain in someone's story, and that has more to do with who they are than who you are. You are a monster not because of who you are as a person, but," she paused, drew a breath. I apologize, my Goddess, "because of what you are. Which you had no choice over, I will remind you."

"I choose what I do with it." I lost all sense of time as she drew my mouth down to hers, devouring my mouth with sudden passion that would have confused me had I given the slightest shit about 'why' in that moment. When she pulled away gasping for breath, her face flushed, a beatific smile on her face, she said, "and that is why you are not, and never will be, Evil, my love.

You make mistakes, but you've shown the world that not only is that not exclusive to Mortals, but that the Divine can, in fact, apologize and do better." I snorted.

"When the fuck have I ever done that?" She grinned up at me.

"Alphabetically, categorically, or in order of importance?"

"Most recently." She leaned in and, when I brought my ear around so she could whisper, took my earlobe between her teeth and nibbled on it while my attention just refused to span anything wider than Planck length. As I drifted in a pleasantly confused haze after that, she whispered, "just yesterday you waxed wroth with me for doing my duty as your High Priestess, Imperator, and most of all wife, and prepared to vent your wrath upon me."

"I'm sorry," I interrupted. She shut me up by nipping at my earlobe.

"None of that. You have apologized and made ever more full amends, because when confronted with your wrath's inappropriateness, you could have chosen to smite me, but instead, you chose to be a..." At this point the Saffron still overseeing my stress testing in the Love Shack spoke in unison with the one in my lap, albeit instead of whispering she screamed it so loud I could hear her clearly even with my ears completely covered like they were, "Good Girl."

I'd like to say that ended my whole 'am I a bad person' spiral, but honestly I think that happened right after, when I demonstrated my ability to Smite both Saffrons and the Marie with us in the Love Shack simultaneously. I don't want to be Evil, but let's face it, I've pointed out more than once that my Moral Compass does not, in fact, point to 'Good' and 'Evil'. Everything got a lot quieter in both locations after that.

That beatific smile had returned to Saffron's face, and after brushing her lips across mine, she leaned back in my arms, just staring into my eyes. I felt a little bit guilty about surprising her with a Smite, so I said, "uh, saved another ten Trolls today. That makes, uh, twenty five out there on patrol tonight. By this time next week we should be in Calverton." She didn't reply, she just stared at me.

"Did you want to do something tonight?" She nodded without ever breaking eye contact, still smiling.

"Stargazing?" She shook her head, still gazing into my eyes so raptly I'm pretty sure she could see the hamster running for all it was worth to keep that wheel spinning.

"Uh, I'm down for going home and maybe, uh, shenanigans?" I asked hopefully. She just shrugged, still not looking away. By now I'd gotten just the tiniest bit absolutely flustered, and I might have been a little whiny when I asked, "so... What do you want to do tonight?" Her smile got just the tiniest bit wider, and without ever looking away she breathed, "I'm already doing it."