Chương 486: Day Four Hundred And Eighty-Four

Dear Diary,"Vengeance is not what you think. It never becomes justice, But it's better than nothing." Doctrine of Tabitha, Book of Vengeance Yeah, Vengeance is like Violence. It's utter bullshit to say that 'violence never solves anything'.

Look, if you have some little asshole addicted to the dopamine rush of making other people feel like shit, and nobody in a position of authority is gonna sit them down and stage an intervention each and every time they pull that shit, nothing short of violence is going to make them wake up and say 'I really ought to stop doing that'.

Of course, that comes with all kinds of other problems, like getting detention for kicking the shit out of them, maybe catching some weapons charges, probably getting grounded, and definitely having to stay in the house until you find a senior guy in their social circle and do some crotch fluid extraction as a kind of apology. Look, nobody wants to get jumped. And that brings me back around to the whole Vengeance thing.

I'm sure everybody's heard the old saw about 'if you seek vengeance, dig two graves', and most people have even heard a variety of second halves ranging from 'one for your target, one for yourself' to 'it makes it harder to find the body'. Thing is, nobody looking for vengeance is going to listen to that shit. There are two categories of people who go looking for vengeance. The first are entitled petty assholes who think minor inconveniences should be responded to with deadly force.

The second are people who've been pushed so hard for so long that they have nothing left to lose, because everything they had has been taken away. Neither group really has an idea about 'restraint' or 'proportional response'. Nah, they've got a target and they're gonna hit that target as hard as they can, and if that causes a bunch of fuckin' collateral it's fine with them. Now, that first group can get fucked. Seriously, I don't want worshippers like that.

If you respond to social gaffes by ruining somebody's life, you need to take all the seats. Only thing going in my Holy Book for them will be 'if this is why you're after Vengeance? Don't.' The other group are the ones I gotta talk to. The ones where there's no chance of a 'back and forth' series of strikes, because anybody their targets' family would strike back against has already been struck.

The folks where they're not looking for justice, they're looking for wrecking somebody's shit because they've been hurt so bad they can never personally rebuild. Because those are the times you actually get otherwise untouchable oppressors getting touched; when someone has been pushed so far that they'll do just about goddamned anything to push back. Yeah, I'm gonna have to be real careful about this shit.

Start out with, 'this isn't going to help anyone', pass through, 'if you do this for petty reasons, fuck off and find a different Goddess', and then wind up firmly in 'focus your death run, because That Kind Of Asshole is really good at deflecting them'. Now that I think about it, if I've got time maybe I could redirect some folks into more 'Count of Monte Christo' sorts of Vengeance. Y'know, 'living well is the best revenge' kind of shit.

Because like I said, actual violent revenge never winds up making things better. Just different. But sometimes different is a good change, because the different is something that can be built on. Today was shitty for the pettiest reason I can think of, and it makes me sad to think about it. So yesterday we all spent another day staring at the edge of the vast, undulating fields of tentacles that is Mimic in M-Space. Or Underhill? I guess it's all the same place.

By nightfall when Karen arrived with her message from Overlord Crow, Saffron was lookin' a little worse for wear. I snuggled up and said, "anything I can do to help, Kitten?" She put her arms around me, laid her head on my chest and said, "Stabilize me?" I shrugged, pushed my Mana into that Shape, and laid the resulting weave of Mana against her chest. Her whole body heaved, her eyes shooting open before she settled back down.

"Again? More?"

"You sure? I don't want to hurt you." She smiled.

"It's a Healing spell, love. The worst it's ever done is knock someone unconscious. More often than not, it wakes them up." She paused, considering.

"Well, perhaps once you almost caused me Mana Burn when we hooked ourselves into a Stabilizing loop until you dropped. But you had a lot less Mana to work with then." This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"That's supposed to make me feel better about it?"

"Well, not only do you have far more control over things, you've also got enough that I wouldn't wind up 'Mana Burned'. Probably just knocked unconscious." Still not copacetic, I Shaped my Mana again, this time pouring Mana into the center of the Shape until it shone like a little star in the palm of my hand. Right before it touched her chest, far too late for me to pull back, she said, "or burn me to ash." This time her arching back pulled her almost out of my grasp, and light blasted from her mouth and eyes.

The moment she slumped, unconscious, I grabbed at her face, shaking her, trying to get her to wake up.

"Saffron! Saffron! Are you okay? Are you alive? Kitten? Kitten!" A grin stretched her lips even as her tongue darted out to taste the air.

"That might have been nicer a little lower down. Also, it's been quite a while since you just dropped it all in at once rather than letting it go slowly."

"I'm sorry!" She silenced any further apologies by kissing me. Her grinning giggles had started shifting to hungry growls when I pulled away.

"No need to apologize, Goof. That is incredibly refreshing, no matter how you do it. Perhaps a bit abrupt, though, when you do it like that."

"I... I'll try to do it right from now on."

"It's fine, Goof. In fact, try that. Right now." She pulled one hand around behind her neck, then held the other a couple inches from her chest.

"Now. Again. Just that much, only slowly."

"I don't want to risk burning you to ash, Kitten." She smiled and shook her head.

"I'm sorry, love. I was joking. I... I forgot. That you'd forgot. I think it was you playing with Marie's fur earlier."

"Huh?"

"You don't remember? You were brushing it back and forth with your hand, watching how the light reflected off it differently." I shook my head. I barely remembered the feel of her fur on my palm, but couldn't remember why I'd been doing it, or what I'd been looking at. No Fae woo, that I could tell. Just plain old fashioned intoxication.

"Fuck. Now I wanna do that more." She pulled my hand closer to her.

"This first, please?" I frowned a little, and she bit her lip and raised her eyebrows, silently pleading. Which she never did, which made me realize she was playing just for me. I smirked at her, then whomped her with the biggest Stabilize I could. Slowly. I absolutely did not let her push my hand lower than her bellybutton, because if she wanted me to do that, she could ask me openly about it. Which, a while after sunrise, after a night spent with the three of us playing with Marie's fur, she did.

Fun to watch after watching starlight against the patterns we drew in Marie's fur with our fingers. I know, not exactly the intellectually stimulating activity that would normally keep me occupied for a dozen hours, but as I've repeatedly noted, that Fae Field stuff was the good shit. I think for the most part my intellectual capacity was about capable of understanding something like Boobahs. The kid's show, not the kid feeding, mate attracting chest accessories.

Although Saffron proved that those could get my attention just as well shortly after dawn when she stretched, shaded her eyes, looked at the sun and said, "you know? I think sunbathing is the order of the day today."

"Sunbathing?"

"Mmm. It was surprisingly fun after your musical battle with Jarl Johnson." I just sat there, utterly unable to figure out if she was joking or not. Then Marie arrived with a few blankets, and the moment she had the first one floofed out across the tentacle tips Saffron shucked off her dress and flopped back onto it, arms spread out and eyes closed.

"Fuck it. Sunbathing it is!" I claimed the spot next to her, and felt some kinda way when Siobhan stood there looking vaguely upset.

"It's okay, Ice Pop. If you're not okay with it, you can just lie down with us. Or with Marie. Pretty sure Murder Mittens doesn't tan. Do you?"

"No." Then one of her showed up sans clothes and curled across one of the blankets.

"Warm." Really should have seen that coming, what with the whole 'cat and sunbeam' thing. Siobhan, looking like she was about to sob, said, "no, it's not that. I... I sunburn easily." I snickered, snorted, and shook my head before I broke down laughing.

"Okay, okay, so we'll, I dunno, maybe get you an umbrella?" Without moving, Saffron said, "I can do better than that. Join us, Siobhan. If you want to. I'll see to it you don't burn." Mana danced above her, then expanded into a nearly transparent dome that covered all of us and our towels. Siobhan didn't need any more encouragement than that.

Her face lit up like a kid on Christmas, and she ditched her dress, at which point I realized she was in fact 'the beacons are lit, the Alliance calls for aid' white all over, and flopped down next to me. Of course, within about ten minutes she had her head pillowed on my belly.

"That can't be comfortable." Saffron popped one eye open just a slit to look at us, then proceeded to crawl over and do the exact same thing from the other side. Then both of them closed their eyes and slumped down like they intended to go to sleep. Like Marie had already done, apparently.

"This is gonna leave me with the weirdest tan lines."

"I certainly hope so," murmured Saffron. At that point it actually sounded kinda funny to me, so I just went with it, lay back, and soaked up the sun for a while. We lay there for a while. We lay there for minutes, for hours, for years. As the sun approached the Rockies on the horizon, I glanced around and sighed.

"Well. Shit. Guess the Fae Field flowers have worn off."

"Hmm?" I looked to where Marie lay, furless and just as pale as Siobhan.

"Not seeing our Murder Mittens as herself any more." Then I remembered something and got pissed.

"Dammit!"

"What's wrong, love?"

"I really wanted to see what a Troll looks like."