Chương 754: Day Seven Hundred And Fifty-Two

Dear Diary,"If you're gonna kill someone, Don't be a dick about it, Just make 'em dead already." - Tabitha Diaz, Doctrine of Tabitha, Book of Justified Homicide In this Verse of the Book of Justified Homicide, Tabitha reminds us of the wisdom of simplicity, of efficiency, even of mercy. Homicide by its nature ends a life, reduces Agency.

If we have determined that a person needs to die in order to protect Agency, it is in everyone's best interest, even the person who must die, if the deed is done quickly, efficiently, and effectively. There is a temptation, especially in the case of those who have used their Agency to repeatedly harm others, to seek some form of balance, to inflict pain, to cause them to suffer as they have caused others to suffer. This is problematic for three reasons, all of which our Goddess explains in various other Verses.

First, inflicting harm can be addictive, can lead us to seek out others on thinner and thinner premises. Second, there is no certainty that the one who inflicted harm will feel the same fear, pain, and above all shame and regret their victims might have felt. Finally, and this practical consideration overrides all others, any delay in killing someone whose death is justified creates the chance that they will escape that justice.

So it is in all cases, once justification has been proven, to kill simply, swiftly, and even mercifully. - Priestess Most High Above All Others, Archmage Imperator Saffron Aetos-Diaz, Commentary on the Doctrine of Tabitha I'm still a little sheepish about yesterday's Verse. Like, seriously, how can anybody take me seriously as a Goddess to look to for life advice and moral direction when I can't even remember to edit my shit.

Although, and let me make it clear right now that I get that I'm probably rationalizing my failure, but fuck it, I'm tryna be kinder to myself, I guess if my daughter is gonna wind up being a Primordial Goddess in her own right, getting her a few Worshippers who already have their heads on nominally straight is a good thing. To be clear, I'm not saying that their heads are on straight because they're my Worshippers. More that once Saffron and Karen are done with them, they're that much less likely to be twisted.

Shit, add Tallulah and Marie to that list. Siobhan... well, look, if I were gonna pick somebody to be a Goddess out of our little crew, I would pick Siobhan. She's kind, gentle, good natured, and willing to do for others even when she's not at her best. She's the kind of person I'd want looking after the world. But then, I'm not sure she could really rein the assholes in. Because there are always assholes. The trick, I think, is to avoid thinking that everybody's an asshole.

If you think that, then all kind of asshole behavior is justified, because everybody would do it. But if you realize that assholes are a minority, then all of a sudden asshole behavior isn't a justified default. Shit, we all are assholes now and then, I guess. Even Siobhan probably has what she thinks of as 'asshole moments'. Okay, she might not think of them like that, but I'm sure she has moments she looks back on and considers failures to adhere to her own moral code.

Because at the end of the day, that's really what the worst asshole behavior is; the times when we do shit that we know is wrong, but we do it anyway because we're rationalizing it away as 'not that bad' or 'shit that everybody does'. Which... I guess that means I just have to live with one of the Verses of my Holy Book being written by my gleefully violent and murderous little Menace. Own up to it, realizing that I made a mistake.

I made a mistake not erasing it right then, I made a mistake not proofreading my Doctrine before handing it out. Maybe I made a mistake leaving the rough draft of the Doctrine out where the Menace could get to it. But I'm not gonna compound that mistake by tryna retcon that shit now. Two different versions of the Holy Book just leads to fuckin' schisms and Holy Wars between groups of people who ought to be on the same side. Holy shit. Am...

Am I actually being mature not only about owning my mistakes, but about thinking about consequences and shit? I need to go lie down. So after the smashing success of yesterday's tendies and French fries, Marie and I fried... Everything. Just everything today. Not all of it came out great, or at least I didn't think so, but surprisingly the kids ate all of it. I mean, it shouldn't be surprising.

We've got seven kids, five adults, two visiting Deities, our in house Heroes and the Homestead women all drifting through at dinner time now. I mean, most of them still get most of their food from North House or South House, but it's like they've heard that Marie is Back and cooking up a storm, and they don't want to miss out. So it all got et. Deep fried sweet potato sticks, carrot sticks, onions, cabbage, radishes, celery, rhubarb, corn, tomatoes, you name it, we deep fried it and brought it home.

Even some fish and bear and eggs for protein. Like I said, some of it came out less than pleasant, at least to me, but we've got so many people from so many different places, it really shouldn't be surprising that no matter what Marie throws on that plate, somebody's gonna be all 'ooh, this is just perfect'. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Okay, the deep fried celery and lettuce were more 'blanched' in deep fry oil than fried for any length of time, and those got Lindsey and Loki going 'oh, this is interesting' more than 'OMG, perfect new awesome food', but still. It was interesting. I think granddaughter Lindsey actually enjoyed it, although you might want to confirm that with her. Thanks, Dad. You're the best. I know. Dreamt of my ladies and the chibis all doing another whole choreographed thing.

Like, real similar to last night, but smoother, more coordinated. Almost like they're doing rehearsals. Fuck, they probably are or something. Which... I can't really say this is joyless or regimented. Hell, at the end of the whole thing, Saffron did a kind of high dive off the West Tower. The M-Space West Tower, which is... Look, shit in M-Space tends to be what it is, but moreso. The West Tower is tall.

She started cackling halfway down and ran out of breath before she hit and splattered soup dumpling soup all over my Maw and everybody dancing in it. Right around then I heard that voice. Calling. Begging, only not really. Obedient to the will of my Tiny Tyrant, I Co-Located, leaping to the Academy Roof. Funny, my Maw, especially in my dreams, is never silent. Even on quiet nights there's the soft sound of my ladies paddling around, playing with my tentacles and each other.

But there in night time Phileo M-Space, the only sounds were a quiet, distant creak of... maybe a cart? Maybe something leather and not oiled properly? I dunno, I just lurk here. At any rate, I heard it. I closed my eyes and turned, quietly hovering above the Academy's roof, and pointed one finger, one arm, outstretched in the direction I heard that voice from. I heard it that much more clearly now. A voice, calling my name. Like I said, almost begging, only not.

I took the last few minutes before I woke memorizing my position and orientation. Woke up and immediately got distracted by all my assorted duties. Bodyguarding. Momming. Nursing, in both the 'feeding kittens' and 'taking care of sick and injured' senses. Maiding. I'm not sure if that's a word, but it covered everything I did on the daily with Marie at the Academy. She hadn't said anything, but she smiled every time we crossed paths in the hallways, in the basement.

Funny, even the other Maids gave me polite nods now. Like they approved of me sticking around, even now that their Glorious leader Marie had returned. I swear, if I figure out a way to keep some Glory rather than feeding it all into the Fattest Ass in Creation, I'm gonna make my hot Maenad Momma so fuckin' rich. Okay, I dunno from rich when it comes to Glory, but I'm giving her some, because she fuckin' deserves it. Didn't remember my marching orders until after our mutual pit stop.

Some part of me thinks I don't deserve that, but the part of me that adores the smug look on Marie's face afterward ganged up with the part of me that enjoyed why she was so smug teamed up to beat that first part of me into submission. Bitch probably liked it, she's masochistic like that. At any rate, as Marie sashayed away, leaning into the tentacle I caressed that fabulously fuzzy tail with, Saffron straddled my lap and asked, "so, did you get a direction?"

I sat there with my mouth open for a second, then laughed and Translocated us both to the roof. Where I stood, stumped, staring at the complete lack of recognizable anything.

"I... this... huh?" When I'd completed a full spin in place, Saffron grabbed my hand.

"To M-Space, Goddess?" I stepped us both there, spun, and immediately recognized where I'd been the night before. I pointed my finger, and said, "That way." She stepped us back without moving me, then stared for a minute, her mind obviously racing far faster than I could follow. After a bit, she nodded, and gestured for me to put my hand down.

"It's a bit hard to be absolutely certain, but it's not New Amsterdam proper. Not Manhattan Island." She shook her head.

"If anything, it seems almost to be too far East to be Long Island, although I can't be certain."

"Anything I can do to help, Kitten?" She sighed.

"Perhaps, tonight, do the same thing you did right here, but atop the West Tower? Or... are you familiar with anywhere in.... No, I have it. Tonight, please do the same atop Treachery Rock."

"You got it, Kitten. What now?"

"Now, love, we return to the office. I've Shaping to do." Never thought I'd be attracted to one of those Type A sorts. But hey, she's got curves for days. I'm a simple woman. Tits? Ass? Horny for, or at least near me? I press like.