Chương 452: Day Four Hundred And Fifty

Dear Diary,"There are good and bad reasons, Choose because you feel it's right, Not 'cause someone told you so." - Doctrine of Tabitha, Book of Agency I worry a little bit about repeating myself as I put together my little bits of poetic not quite nonsense. Only a little, though, because as long as I'm saying it a different way, and I'm repeating important shit, at least maybe there's a chance one of the ways I say it will get through to some dumbass who desperately needs to hear it.

I know I'm still focusing on Agency at the moment, but I guess there's just too much of me that thinks second chances are important. Seriously. That's entirely why I'm here in the first place. That's what reincarnation isekai is all about, getting a second chance at life, right? I mean, I dunno if that's why I'm here in the 'somebody wanted to give me a second chance' kind of way, but it sure as shit is a second chance.

I don't know if I'm doing it right or just fucking it up in new and exciting ways, but I figure if I got a second chance, everybody deserves one, right? I gotta be careful with that, though. Not all second chances are equal. Yeah, Bonnie wanted another go at getting Larry to give her a go, but Garde probably would have found a way to off herself, even if I delivered her to Hel instead of Reviving her.

I'm still not entirely copacetic with that, like maybe if I'd found a way to keep her waiting until here and now had shit like proper therapists it might have made a difference. But the only way I could do that would be to put her in a box. Whether it was a literal box to keep her from offing herself or the metaphoric box of sending her to Hel and having my sister take personal care of her, it would still be a box.

That's not even going into the difference between somebody who got shafted by life, somebody who fucked up but wants to do better, and some asshole who Fucked Around, Found Out, and wants the starring role in Fuck Around Two: Fuck Harder. I'm all for giving somebody a second chance to do better, but not so much when their clear intent is to do worse. Spent all day yesterday giving my Co-Located ladies back rubs. It's a different response to rubbing certain other parts, but sometimes I think I like it more.

As the sun dropped to the horizon, Marie stood from where I'd laid her out in a nest of pillows on the floor and stretched, followed by Saffron snuggling Siobhan and murmuring, "no more overwork for you, little Ice Pop." Siobhan pouted a little, replying, "maybe just a little more work later?" She was so cute I couldn't help myself, I knelt down next to the bed and quietly said, "you know if you want the pillow princess treatment again today all you gotta do is ask, right?"

She turned to reply and I proceeded to lick her throat clean of any nonsensical reply about 'duties' she might have made.

"All this time to reflect has filled our Goof and Goddess with wisdom. You should listen to her. Although we'd all best drain that wisdom away before she ruptures something." I broke away from a grinning Siobhan just in time for my Kitten to lunge in to take her place. When she'd kissed me to her satisfaction, I pulled away just far enough to say, "spending all day giving you sponge baths and backrubs, then having you take turns with me the moment you're done work. Makes me feel like I'm the toy here, not Ice Pop."

I think Siobhan was about to pout or something, but then Marie yanked me around and said, "Yes." Then proved her point by taking her turn with some quality liplock time.

"You love it, you know it." Marie flipped me around to lie on my stomach, all while maintaining her grinning kiss, and Saffron and Siobhan went to work on thighs and back, respectively. Bereft of words, in part due to my amorous tiger, in part due to the utter relaxation the other two imposed on me, I just kinda groaned out my thanks into Marie's mouth.

Eventually I melted enough that I couldn't keep my head up to continue the kiss, and after giving me a brief kiss on the forehead, Marie set to work on my neck and the back of my head. After a bit I muttered something like, "wasn't there, uh, plan for, um... a trip?" Saffron rendered me nonverbal by moving on to my feet as she replied.

"Yes, but first I'd like to get you as relaxed as possible." I sent images of flipping me over, and she snickered and said, "without putting you to sleep, Goof. Or any of the rest of us."

"Better stop soon then," I managed to force out before I yawned.

"Long quiet day make sleepy Tabby."

"You heard her, ladies." A moment later all the wonderful hands went away, followed shortly by the lovely hips that had been using my ass as a seat.

"Hold still a moment, love?" I felt loose enough to consider lying there even if she asked me to move, so not moving just made sense. A few seconds later Mana washed through me, a Smite that left me utterly at peace with the world. Even my scars didn't so much ache as feel stiff.

"Lie still, love." Marie's gentle hands carefully rolled me over, then slipped under me to lift me into a princess carry. I just kinda lolled there, utterly limp. Marie lowered me enough for Saffron to lean over and kiss me, her hands going around my... Waking up to someone kissing me was not exactly what Sleeping Beauty made it out to be. I surprised myself by not freaking out, although that might have been the strong arms cradling me, or the already familiar lips against mine. J...

Saffron pulled away, smiling down at me.

"Hello, love. How are you feeling?" I shifted a little, maybe to stand up, but Marie curled me to her chest and nuzzled at my neck.

"Not bad. Am I hurt or something?"

"No, love. But we're going to be moving you today." I kinda wanted to tense up at that, but holy shit I did not feel like any kind of tension would be worth the effort. Either I really trusted these lovely ladies, or I'd indulged in some primo weed recently. That or maybe percs. I'd only tried them once, because they put me too far under to enjoy the lack of tension.

"Where are we goin'?"

"We'll be heading to our suite at the Academy, love. Conrad and Loki are waiting for us there." I laughed.

"Who? And... Loki? Really? Who calls themselves Loki?" She blinked, and lay a hand on my arm.

"Conrad is your adopted son, and possibly the most knowledgeable single being in the Mortal Realm and Metaphoric Space alike. Loki... Loki is your adoptive father, and," she paused, shrugged, and forged forward with, "he calls himself Loki because he is Loki." I chuckled.

"Yeah, son of Laufey and everything, huh?" Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. She smiled.

"Exactly, love!" I couldn't stop laughing. Definitely high.

"Did you guys drug me or something?" I couldn't really bring myself to give a shit, because, y'know, high as balls, but I figured it would be nice to know. She shook her head.

"No drugs. Massage, and a Spell that accentuates feelings of calm."

"A spell?" I asked, ignoring how Saffron somehow had the ability to drop capital letters where they ought not go and make me hear them. She nodded.

"I could show you? Although I'm not certain you'll be able to see it." I shrugged.

"Sure. What the hell." She waved her hands in the air.

"I could do this without the gestures, but I'm trying to put as much Mana as I can into this." Something flickered in the air; I couldn't quite trace it in the gathering gloom, but when she made a flicking gesture with her hands holy fuck I felt it. All of my fucks, gone. Inner peace, achieved. Probably psychosomatic, or a placebo effect or something, but didn't matter. If it's stupid and it works, it's not stupid.

"C'n I ask you somethin'?" I muttered.

"Certainly, love."

"Why you doin' all this?"

"Because you are our Hero, Tabitha," Siobhan said from over near my feet. I flopped my head over and saw her standing there in a simple white dress with a matching headdress. Made her look kinda like a nun. Only all in white, to match her hair. Which I couldn't see, what with her headdress hiding her hair.

"Hey, Siobhan."

"Hello, Tabitha." She reached out, almost shyly, to touch my thigh. I reached down to hold her hand.

"No need to be shy, Siobhan. Not like we haven't been... uh... a lot less shy." I frowned.

"Are we okay?" She sighed, interlacing her fingers with mine.

"I'm just afraid for you. Afraid that you'll be forever forgetting everything we've... forgetting our history together."

"That's part of why, obviously, but there's another reason as well." I frowned at Saffron.

"Whazzat?" Definitely high, slurring my words and everything.

"You are more than capable of es... fleeing and hiding from us, and I worry that whoever inflicted this amnesiac state on you will find you before we can." I frowned, although it took an effort to do so.

"So, like, you think they're gonna try to put some extra whammy on me?" She nodded.

"Or hurt you. Or do something else we've not thought of. You are more than capable of defending yourself against physical assaults, but more subtle things..." I laughed.

"Yeah, I can run a con, but I'm always falling for them, too." I thought about it for the split second it took for me to realize that if these three had wanted to do something bad to me, they could have done it already.

"Okay. Let's go. Not gonna rabbit." I chuckled as Saffron opened the hatch and Marie carried me through.

"Might hide behind Marie if these guys are scary though." She leaned over and nuzzled at my neck, muttering, "Vlickies." I swear I heard her voice saying, while I live, you are safe. Weird thing for me to think she said, anyhow. When we stepped out onto the deck, I looked around.

"How are we getting to the Academy, anyhow? Are we close to Annapolis? Wait! We're in the Chesapeake, aren't we?" My stream of consciousness didn't seem to bother them, but Saffron said, "Yes, love! We are! Aboard our flagship. Your ship. The Black Dragon. You summoned her at the height of the Battle of the Bay, when all seemed lost to the Undead."

"Wait, wait, wait, my ship? Summoned? Like, when did I get the authorization to summon up... Black Dragon? That's the fuckin' USS New Jersey, BB-62. She's got the number right on top of turret number two, I saw it!" I turned to look at her, and my head swam as we weren't aboard ship any more. Instead the four of us stood in what looked like an art student's dorm room. Red poofy fabric covered the floor, stretching up the walls to about waist height.

What looked like a leather and wood hang glider decorated with weird kill markers hung from the ceiling, and two doors stood open; one to a bedroom with a much nicer, much softer looking, much bigger bed, which had me thinking thoughts of the four of us making use of that bed. Weirdest thing, my brain definitely thought it would be more fun than the small bed in the cabin, but my gut told me it was, in fact, my third or fourth choice for nookie related activities. The other door was in the back of a wardrobe.

I half expected to see a snowy forest beyond it, but instead I saw what looked like a maker's workroom. Like, one of those dudes who had too much time and money and bought every stand alone power tool out of the Grainger catalog. Only everything had a kind of steampunk feel to it.

"If Thomas Willeford comes outa that closet, it's not my fault if I drool. Just sayin'." That got a chuckle out of a guy behind me. I twisted a little, and Marie turned to let me see a Marshall Mathers lookin' dude lounging in a chair completely unsuited for lounging in, the chair itself leaning against a big fuckin' chunky black desk. Said dude wore a double breasted green jacket with ruffles at the collar, his crossed legs making it very clear that he had the legs and attitude to pull off black leather pants.

Painted on black leather pants.

"Uh... does Jareth know you rifled through his wardrobe?" He chuckled again, the sound totally not doing unfortunate things to my southern regions.

"Since I haven't, I doubt he does."

"Please tell me you're not my adopted son? Because incest is not the look I'm tryna cultivate here." He laughed outright at that.

"No, daughter, it is not. And I am not. In case 'daughter' did not make that clear." He rose in one smooth motion, reaching up and ruffling my hair. Normally I'd bite some asshole who tried that shit with me, but the same part of me that knew without question that Marie would fuck up any motherfucker who tried fucking with me leaned into his hand.

"Dad?"

"Indeed, Daughter of my heart." He lifted the chair around and set it in front of him, facing me.

"So, we've work to do, and while I'm certain you could remain standing, it might be more comfortable if you sat?" I nodded, and Marie gently sat me in the chair. Didn't fucking matter how gentle she was, the fucking thing was an ode to painfully uncomfortable furniture. As I sat, his hands slipping around my temples, I noticed two other bits of furniture in the room. A lacquered case with an enameled crossbow inside, and a toddler bed. Right. I had a kid. Kids. Fuck, another kid, which made seven. I had seven kids.

"Uh... where's?" I nodded toward the little bed. Saffron stepped up and stroked my hair.

"At Lancaster House with her sisters. I've set Karen to watch over them while we focus on you, never fear."

"Karen?" She nodded.

"Your Highest Priestess." I snorted.

"If she's half as high as I am right now, I'm not sure I'd trust her with kids." She laughed, touching my cheek. I'm not sure why everybody seemed so touchy feely. Normally I'd be a lot less copacetic about that, but again, the ladies in the room had given me plenty of reason to look forward to them touching and feeling and doing whatever the hell else came to mind. That bed in the other room was looking better by the moment.

Then my lady bits curled up and every part of me capable of being tense went tense as fuck.

"Mother Dearest, is that you?" Look, I may not be the best at reading people, or seeing through cons, but one thing that's been honed sharp as fuck is my ability to spot danger. Danger stepped out of the armoire and strode toward me, hands open, smiling welcome. I scooted my chair back until it hit the desk behind me, then pushed myself upright as the scary motherfucker closed with me. He frowned, a perfect fake look of hurt imperfectly covering his murderous nature.

"Mother Dearest? Why do you pull away from...?" His face darkened, no longer trying to hide his deep and abiding fury.

"Who has done this to you? Mother? Tell me, that I might express my displeasure. Please." My mouth worked, but no sound came out. Saffron stepped to my side, slipping her hand into the one opposite Siobhan, who'd somehow never quite let go of me.

"Son. Whoever did this, its primary effect appears to be loss of some memories." She turned to me.

"Tabitha, this is our son, Conrad. He has also been known as The Weyland Smith." The fucking Weyland Smith. I'd read about him in a big fucking brick of a book about mythology back in High School. The Weyland fucking Smith. I'd read a book that talked about the rapist Greeks, the psychopathic Norse, and even some bits about the bloodthirsty Aztecs, but... The fucking Weyland motherfucking Smith took shit to another level.

Didn't even fucking kill people; he turned them into fucking modern art, all without killing them. Motherfucker did shit the demons from Hellraiser would look at and say 'dude, you need to chill the fuck out'. I did the only thing a sane, rational person could do in the situation. I fainted.