Chương 825: Day Eight Hundred And Twenty-Three

Dear Diary, It's funny. In the 'ain't that just a thing' sense, not the 'haha stop my sides' sense, by the way. But back in the day I remember reading an article about how folks on the spectrum aren't inherently disabled, they're disabled by environmental factors that fuck with them more than they do everyone else. Little things like the sounds electric shit makes when you plug it in or turn it on.

Flashing lights that barely get most people's attention, but leave them clutching at their eyes like they've got a migraine. Fuck, for all I know they do get migraines from that.

'Sensory overload' was the term I read. Unwritten social rules, although those I struggle with myself, because most of them just fuckin' aren't rules, they're assumptions people make, and ain't nobody making the same fucking assumptions. No idea why I'd be thinking hard about Autistic folks lately. Which is clearly a fuckin' lie, because even if Saffron occasionally strikes me as maybe having a few symptoms, Tallulah is absolutely somewhere on the spectrum.

I'm not a head shrink, but sometimes the signs are just really fuckin' clear to anyone paying attention. Especially when she takes the mask off. Which she tends to do when she takes her clothes off, which she's done a time or two around me now. Honestly, that makes me feel even more special.

No, seriously, while I'm no longer a proponent of having sex with some dude just to get him off my case, the fact remains that with some strategically applied spit I too could allow any cock-haver to ejaculate in my vajayjay without ever really baring my soul or any shit like that.

I don't think I'd do that here and now for any particular reason, because if someone needs sexual convincing to do something they ought to do anyhow, I absolutely will thread a tentacle up their spine and make them do it without if it needs to be done that badly. I guess if it was just a want, and not a need, like one of my kids wanted something for their birthday, and the only way to legally and morally procure it was to put out for some dude I would otherwise not share a zip code with, I might do that.

But that's a total edge case. My point, and I do have one, is that Tallulah baring herself to me without a mask makes me feel way more special than her baring her tits and hoo-hah without any clothing. Which... I think maybe is how it should be, although I've read Demi folks are like, the opposite of that, where they can't get busy without getting emotionally vulnerable. Then again, Cherry. Who I still gotta come up with a way to impregnate before I cycle back around to the Phileo Temple again.

I dunno, I really do try to learn, but anything on the Ace spectrum is so far away from my own personal truth that I'm not sure I'll ever really understand it on a visceral level. So I just gotta use my brain and take my long tall Sidhe Lady at her word about shit. Oh, and talk stuff out that I'd normally assume. Because making assumptions makes an ass out of Uma Thurman, and her ass is way too pretty to make an ass out of. Fuck, I do not believe I could miss which way I leaned back in the day.

I'm pretty sure if I'd never gotten shot, I would have eventually be sitting next to my gay as fuck trans lesbian granddaughter saying some stereotypical shit like 'oh, everyone looks at women's asses, they're cute' or some shit like that. Anyway, my original point was that I'm not, to the best of my knowledge, on the spectrum, but I am so fuckin' ADHD it's not even funny, and I think the same thing might be true.

Like, back there I wasted so much fuckin' time doom scrolling, or playing endless rounds of PvP video games, or watching video reels, which is just doom scrolling: the movie, or any number of other stupid time wasters that fed me droplets of dopamine, just enough to keep me watching or playing. But here and now, for whatever reason, I've got shit I'm good at. Like, I never would have thought that I'd be good at standing watch. Seriously, 'stand in one place and be bored as fuck'.

That's how most people would see standing watch. But here's the thing; like that old meme about 'I am the distraction', I can sit there half daydreaming all day, because I've mostly disconnected my eyes, which are looking for something interesting. Because boring shit isn't normally shit you have to watch out for when you're standing watch.

Okay, yeah, I get that there are sneaky motherfuckers who can sneak up on somebody standing watch and slit their throat without looking like anything interesting happened, but they do that with everybody. The kinds of things that I need to watch for here and now, like hordes of undead, signal flags, giant bears, Dragons, and fuckin' Jotnar Titan hybrids? They stand out a little. They're interesting.

Maybe there are ADHD folks with different symptoms that would be shit at standing watch, but other than the occasional bitching when I temporarily run out of mental masturbation fodder, I am baller at standing watch. I'm also not half bad at playing with kids or, apparently, teaching them math. But I don't think that's related. I could be wrong. My point stands, though, that the really awful symptoms of having ADHD back in the day were, or at least might have been, artificial.

So yesterday after being told to wait for sunset to visit Hades, I played with the kids a bit, did some chores around the Homestead and Academy, then remembered I could Scry on my old world and lost a whole fuckin' day to watching some other poor bitch doom scroll through her video feed. Thankfully Marie pulled me out of it by poking me with a claw a few minutes before sunset.

"It's Time." I took a deep breath, took her by the hand, willed Dad's Holy Garb on, and thought, I'm heading to Hades now. Have fun, love. Remember to show me if he's going to die or Persephone decides she desperately needs a threesome with you. I snorted at that. You keep acting like I'm some kind of hot commodity that everyone wants to make sexxors with. Marie shut me up with a simple, "You Are." My face felt hot when I stepped us both to the path outside Hades' little office. The place was dark.

Not just Hades' office, but the whole realm. Then again, we'd stepped halfway around the world, into a big assed cave. I knocked, and when someone called, "come in," stepped through the door, Marie in tow. Two women sat at the desks in the room. One, tall and willowy, stood as we entered and stepped up behind the raised counter.

"May I help you?" I nodded, trying to stay friendly.

"Yeah, Tabitha Diaz, here to see Hades about something?"

"Are you," She paused, squinted at me for a second, then glanced to Marie and back to me before asking, "pardon, but are you a psychopomp?"

"Well, yeah, but that's not really what I'm here to talk to him about. Okay, it's on the list, but it's pretty far down." When she just stared at me, not an atypical reaction for someone hearing my stream of consciousness bullshit start up, I added, "I'm, uh, the Patron Goddess of the Atlantean Inter-City Alliance. Also maybe the Matriarch of the Alliance Pantheon, and I need to talk to him about afterlife stuff. Oh, and..."

I shut my mouth before mentioning Tartarus, because if he was the one responsible, I really didn't need him prepping to throw down. As far as I remembered, he was one of the three brothers who'd beaten the Titans, and I'd gotten three very recent lessons about how tough those big bastards were.

"Maybe ask his wife if she wants a skylight?" I finished, hoping I didn't sound too lame. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. The tall, willowy, kinda fair brunette just stood there, jaw dropping in the face of my stream of nonsense, but the shorter one, a short stack with a sort of olive complexion, just chuckled and said, "yeah, um, we just keep the books while Herself is in residence.

Lord Hades checks in now and then, but it's been," she turned to the taller woman, "what, weeks?" She just shrugged.

"He hasn't checked in since she got back from visiting her mother this year." Then she looked a little thoughtful.

"There was one winter a couple years back when he didn't check in at all."

"Didn't she go home early that year?" The tall one snorted.

"She did. That's also the year she took us back up with her."

"Oh, right! Left Himself all alone for the summer." Then she looked back at me.

"Anyway, just head on up to the royal palace. Just be careful, things have been, uh, energetic this year." I paused, half turned toward the door.

"Uh, how so?" The short stack shrugged.

"He went up to open up the palace for her arrival. Left us here watching the desk like normal. Little bit after that, things got loud. Some screaming, some hollering, bit of crashing. I think Himself might wind up needing to do some repairs to the palace."

"They were fighting?" The tall one said, "of course not!" Almost at the same time, the shorter one said, "fighting, fucking, 'making love', who knows with those two." I sighed.

"Ah, man. I always thought they were, like, madly in love and shit." The short one snorted, and the tall one said, "oh, they are. But..." When she trailed off, her partner said, "he's a 'Lord of Olympus', and she's the Queen of the Underworld. He's kinda quiet most times, but if there's one thing he's passionate about, it's her. She's passionate about a lot of things, but nothing so much as him."

"Uh..."

"Passion comes out in a lot of ways. Sometimes it's throwing parties, sometimes it's throwing her over the kitchen counter and railing her like a mare in heat, sometimes it's her throwing him on the bed and riding him like a stallion in dire need of breaking to the saddle, sometimes it's throwing all the crockery in the palace at each other." The taller one, who'd been getting redder the whole time, hissed out, "Minthe!"

"What? You know it's true, Lucy."

"That is not my name!" Before the pair started throwing account books at each other, I nodded, said, "Minthe, not-Lucy, thanks for the directions, but I need to get going," and stepped out the door, towing my Murder Mittens along behind me. My Murder Mittens snickers filled the air, as did her purrs.

"Which way to the Palace again?"

"This Way." She stepped past me and began leading me along the path that led through Hades' vast underground domain. After we walked like a dozen paces, I asked, "couldn't you just, y'know, Translocate us there?" She pouted at little, glanced at me and then away, and muttered, "It's Inappropriate."

"Okay, okay." I chuckled a bit.

"Lead on, lover." Marie blushes are best blushes. I decided. Just to be clear, Siobhan blushes are also best blushes. I'd say it about Saffron and Tallulah's too, but I haven't found a reliable way to make either of them blush yet. So we walked. I definitely got the sense that like a lot of other M-Space locations, time flowed oddly in Hades. Marie led me, hand in hand, through some really pretty avenues. No sunlight, no vegetation to speak of, but some nice villas stood to either side of the street.

Not packed in or anything, although each one kinda sprawled. We got to the top of a low rise eventually, and looked out over a huge... Necropolis, I guess. City of the dead, what with everybody here being a departed Soul. While the view was breathtaking, even the smaller houses in the distance, climbing up the edges of the cavern, looked quaint and kinda pretty.

I think there were even other caverns connected somehow, but a sort of mist in the air kept me from being able to see further than this one, admittedly huge, underground area. Marie turned me a little and I saw the palace in the center. Something tickled the edges of my consciousness, and a moment later I heard Saffron's voice quiet in my head. Is everything okay, love? Yeah. Just kinda taking the long way to Hades' palace, I guess? Marie chimed in with, Approaching Respectfully.

That got us a quiet teeth sucking sound. You are in his Demesnes uninvited, so if he is not responsible for the things being sent against us, that's probably for the best. Take all the time you need, Tallulah and I are watching over one another and the Homestead. I blinked. Wait, is it sunrise already? What fuckin' time is it? That got me a laugh. It's a bit before noon, love. Don't worry, we'll contact you if something comes up that requires your personal attention. Do that, please. Love you, Kitten.

Love you too, Goof. I turned to Marie.

"Okay, let's hurry a little?" She frowned, almost a pout.

"Wait. Are you enjoying the walk with me or something?" She looked away, suddenly shy. I sighed.

"Okay, Murder Mittens. Lead the way. But let's not take too long, the kits need to be fed." She smiled.

"Am."

"So why are Saffron and Tallulah guarding each other? And the Homestead?" She put one claw in front of her mouth, grinning.

"Sneaky." I grinned up at her in return.

"You're all Blended to a fare thee well and watching over them as they guard each other?" She nodded.

"Why?"

"Adorable." I fake frowned at her.

"We can take as long as you want on this walk on one condition." She cocked her head.

"You gotta show me that shit." She was right. Saffron in her uniform standing at ease behind and to Tallulah's left, doing her very best to look stoic, was super cute, but Tallulah following Saffron around in what I guessed was the Rich Man's Port Naval Academy uniform, which was the basic Academy uniform in, get this, red, white, and blue, was even more so. Especially when she kept the stoic bodyguard bit up while Saffron spoke with Cailyn and George about something. No idea what, really.

Something about fishing rights and trading with Boltophsberg. Too much cute in my brain to follow. While Marie fed those images into my brain, she led me down the hill, then back up to the palace. As we got a little closer I realized the women in Hades' office weren't kidding. The place looked more than a little worse for wear. Overall the building looked like it maybe was a cross between one of the bigger, nicer villas that ringed it and some kind of temple.

It definitely had that whole 'temple look' on the front, with columns holding up a broad, triangular bas relief. Well, mostly holding it up. Most of them looked a little worse for wear, and the ones in the middle had straight up been knocked sideways to obstruct the front door.

"That does not look good," I muttered.

"It Doesn't." agreed Mittens. Right about then both Tallulahs and Saffrons stepped home. I checked, surprised to realize that the sun was in fact headed for the horizon.

"Is time always like this here?" Marie shrugged.

"It Varies."

"Right. Well, I'd knock on the door, but these are in the way." I reached out and wrapped a tentacle around each of the tipped columns. I lifted them out of the way of the door, but instead of just tossing them somewhere, I figured I'd do something helpful as a gesture of goodwill. If Hades wasn't involved of his own volition, maybe I could convince him to rejoin the side of not getting my foot up his ass.

I shoved the columns back into place, pushing the sagging bas relief up to something resembling level, then used smaller tentacles to lift broken chunks of masonry to fill in gaps and Mineral Bond stuff together well enough that it wasn't in any immediate danger of collapsing. Just as I finished, before I could even pull my tentacles back, the doors slammed open, flinging debris everywhere.

I hadn't been under the impression they opened outwards, either, but the woman standing in the doorway, and by 'standing in the doorway' I mean filling it pretty much entirely, did not look like she gave a fuck about which way big stone doors opened. I'd half expected somebody not unlike Lucy from Hades' office, but 'willowy' did not describe the woman in the doorway in any way.

'Farm Girl' might, maybe; she had the kind of build described as 'healthy', and what with her being close enough to Marie's height to maybe give me a complex about being short and shit, that meant she definitely would turn Tormund away from his Briene fixation in seconds. When I got a look at her face, though, I totally got why Hades got smit. I have no idea how Dolly Parton wrote a song about this woman from a whole assed universe away, but holy shit. Flaming locks, auburn hair, green eyes.

The only thing that maybe was the tiniest bit off was that the ivory of her skin had maybe the slightest olive undertones. Then again, she had dirt under her fingernails and in the wrinkles of her hands where she clutched a scepter in one hand and a weird, four headed torch in the other. They looked more like symbols than serious weapons, but the woman holding them gave every impression that she had and would again brain somebody with either or both.

Completing the entire crazed fit, she wore a ragged, filthy, flimsy teddy. Before I could even begin my patented bullshit banter, she screamed out, "what the hell do you think you're doing!" Fuck. I was tryin' so hard to keep things diplomatic.