Chương 986: Day Nine Hundred And Eighty-Four

Dear Diary, Something is wrong, and I have no fuckin' clue what it is.

I remember all those woo posts about 'follow your instincts' and 'listen to your gut' and all that shit, because inevitably they wound up being posted either by folks who somehow managed to get through their entire life prior to the post without any of the kind of trauma I wound up taking for granted, or by people more like me whose instincts wound up ignoring red flags to allow Biggus Dickus to explore their Cave of Wonders because he followed the Bro Code with the kind of fervency normally associated with religious converts, so of course he had to be a 'high value man', right?

Honestly the only difference between that latter group and me was that I knew on some level that my shit was fucked. I mean, not literally, not most of the time, even if I didn't have quite the aversion to that then that I do now. But then I hadn't been shot directly in my asshole multiple times back then. Or even once, excepting the time my exceptionally hot boyfriend insisted that I'd do it if I really loved him and wasn't a coward.

Fuck, now that I'm thinking about it, I'm pretty sure that latter reason motivated me more than the former one, because while my lady parts salivated just looking at that handsome asshole, even back then I knew the difference between Love and Lust. Double fuck, I have literally started a religion that blends those two together like fuckin' Morimoto with different cuisines. Yes, I am absolutely willing to stick that blend in my mouth on a regular basis, as I've shown on multiple occasions during Revels.

Thing is, I think there is a natural connection, a kind of synergy between Love and Lust. Like, the two are not the same thing and shouldn't be confused for one another, but if you love somebody it doesn't really matter what they look like, you're gonna see them as the most beautiful, sexy person you've ever seen.

On the flipside, when somebody you barely know induces repeated dopamine release to the point that you've gotten more feel good chemicals in that one night than you had in the six months previous, that can definitely make you catch feels for them.

When you find somebody who you genuinely care for, who reciprocates those feels, who also grabs hold of your dopamine release button and mashes that shit as often as possible, it sets up a sympathetic resonance that can turn even the worst of situations into a kind of paradise. I'm not even gonna go into somebody who fits like a custom crafted glove and literally programmed an orgasm button into my psyche, because I think I've spent nearly a thousand days singing her praises, and I'm not gonna stop any time soon.

So I'm not gonna throw shade at myself for giving my Worshippers a place where the existence of that synergy is celebrated, where they can observe it in others and seek it for themselves. In themselves or in others, with nobody dissing them for seeking, so long as their joy doesn't come at the expense of someone else's. To roll it back, though, because digression is only acceptable in a narrative if it's closed out or really fuckin' funny to leave hanging, I know my instincts are all kinds of fucked up.

The whole 'listen to your gut' would have me behaving like the stereotypical dog; if I can't eat it, fuck it, or both, piss on it. Honestly, I'm not sure why I don't have more impulses to do that last one, and holy fuckin' shitballs I am the Imperator's Attack Dog, the Patron Demigoddess of the Alliance, my ass spans the eastern half of the continent of Atlantis, I have basically pissed on the entire fuckin' eastern seaboard.

But right now something is not right, and I can barely tell what, let alone why, or what the fuck to do about it, which is holding a blow torch to the fuse I've been trying to keep from lighting over the past few days, the one that leads directly to the tension that's stockpiled itself due to the Spartans playing fuckin' hide and seek instead of just coming at me like the kaiju did.

So last night, after yet another day of my internal rage spring winding itself ever tighter, I collapsed down to one of me at the Homestead, dragging my partners home with me as they finished their duties. Okay, I'm pretty sure Marie's duties are never 'finished', but it gives me warm fuzzies that at the end of the day, as defined by Saffron and Tallulah heading home and me calling the kids in for dinner, she sets all that aside to come home and just be at home with us. Tonight was a little bit of an odd mix.

A mixed cheese soup, with some bacon that tasted a little bit smokier than bacon normally does. Not sure what's up with that, but it worked. A savory souffle thing added more protein, and both the souffle and the cheese soup had bits of veggies in. I think maybe she diced them then flash fried them, because they had both a little bit of a crunch on the outside, but were fully cooked to the point of melting on the inside. Just little bubble bursts of roast veggie flavor throughout the meal.

Everybody also got varying amounts of a little fried meat disc, maybe the size of a cheap assed burger patty. Very meaty, very flavorful, enough that Lindsey and Ria split one and called it a day, where the kits each ate like four. Marie put a small stack on each of the new kids' plates with a firm look. Nothing mean or cruel, just the kind of look that said, 'mom said eat this, it's good for you, and mom loves you, so you don't want to disappoint her, right' without a single word.

My Murder Mittens be good at that kind of thing. Siobhan ate like eight of them, until she clutched at her tummy and groaned as I carried her up to the Bath.

"You gonna be okay, Darling?"

"So good," she groaned out, while she clutched at Hailee's claw with her off hand. Okay, Hailee and the rest of the kits didn't really have the same 'claw' situation Marie had going on. Their claws were subtler, clearly retractable, and definitely shorter. My kits' claws aside, I smirked at Siobhan and said, "you'd almost think they were liver." She just nodded, smiling. At that point Hailee chimed in with, "they were." That kinda shut me up for the rest of the trip to the Bath.

I mean, I know my Murder Mittens has next level culinary abilities, because even now that I've learned how to make a bunch of things, and even done some experimenting with her careful supervision, I have no fuckin' clue how she started with liver and wound up with those things. I suspect mincing was involved, and I'm ninety percent certain she fried it, maybe deep fried it, but that's about all I could tell.

Still kinda boggles me that I can figure out that much just by eating it, or that I'm pretty sure I could figure out how to make it with enough time and materials. Probably would never get the spices right, but it might be fun to try, which again is one of those boggling things for me, that I could actually not just follow recipe directions correctly enough to make something edible, but reverse engineer the kind of masterpiece my Murder Mittens make. The new kids still hadn't told me their names.

I wasn't sure if they'd told any of the other girls, and honestly if I wound up learning their names when they got appended to a door, I wouldn't be super upset. Yeah, I might feel some kinda way they trusted their sisters more than me, but that's just it, sometimes sisters are less intimidating than moms. Which is again, not a sentence I thought I'd think with my own brain three years ago. Fuck, I've been here nearly three years now. So much fuckin' joy, so much fuckin' pain.

I dunno if I'd recognize me from back then. At any rate, we all soaked until we got good and loose, nice and sleepy, then I carried everybody, purring Murder Mittens included, down to the bedroom to sleep. Okay, Marie nudged me at that point, once everybody else was settled, and I wound up getting Mittens pie for dessert. So amazing, watching that beautiful agony in the mirror as her fingers interlaced with mine. Dreamt of more war room.

Really gonna need them to do a pool party or some shit if this goes on much longer. Maybe on the Equinox. Or Siobhan's birthday. Fuck, even my next Revel maybe. The thought that all three of those things are on the same day, this Friday, that woke me out of bed with my heart hammering, the thought that I had to get Siobhan a present racing through my head.

Then I remembered I'd gotten Conrad to work on something for her, and even if it was a little bit of a gag gift, and no I do not mean an actual gag, I thought she'd be amused and enjoy it. Woke up, helped Marie get everyone a solid breakfast of Waffles, eggs, scrapple, and chunked up fruit. Nothing so clean as proper dicing or cubing, because there's just something about irregular chunks of fruit that makes them more fun to eat.

While she wasn't looking I whipped up an extra big batch of sweet whipped cream, then Co-Located to pull each of my ladies into my lap and feed them chunked fruit dipped in sweet whipped cream, one bite at a time. Siobhan giggled, and my lap got a little warm under her. Saffron did that cute face she makes when I feed her sweets. Murder Mittens purred when I pulled her into my lap, and if she looked like the fruit wasn't exactly her thing, she murmured, "Vlickies," and gently nipped each chunk from my fingers.

Tallulah looked just barely more amused than scandalized. When I asked her why, after she chewed and swallowed that chunk, she hummed and said, "I've never been the lesser partner." I couldn't keep the booger look off my face.

"Hey, nobody's lesser around here."

"You are a Goddess."

"And you are my partner. Our partner. Part of the mom collective, with all rights and privileges thereof." She snorted.

"I suppose that argues against my Title as well, but still, not what I meant." I softened a little.

"What did you mean then?"

"Only that in the past, if my partner pampered me, I took it as my due, if I didn't outright order them to do so." This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. I thought about that while I fed her some more.

"So. How's it feel to get pampered when the person doing it doesn't have to?" Her lips curled up, and somehow I knew the expression was one of those faked, but faked to show the real emotions hiding under her face.

"I think I prefer it."

"Good." After breakfast the girls asked me to visit the Temple of Love to help Karen set up for the New Year's celebrations. Well, some of them anyhow. Davey looked like she intended to go, but when Menace, who'd started the whole thing, was joined by Alex, Lindsey, Ria, Maze, Anise, and Felicia, she decided to stay home and work with Daya, the rest of the kits, and the new kids to prep our place for the Equinox.

So while one each of me took Saffron to the Grand Council, Tallulah to the Overlord's Keep, and myself to the Scrying chamber under Alliance HQ, half a dozen went to the Academy with Marie, one took the girls to the Temple of Love, and another stayed behind with the rest of the girls and our new boy. Sarah decided to join in with D, helping reach high spots for little decorations, most of which were fresh flowers and candles. Never decorated for an Equinox before, kinda fun learning new things about my new home.

Then, not long after lunch, shit went sideways. The first thing I noticed was a disturbance in the Scrying room. Nothing on any of my mirrors, but across the room one of the Scryers cycling through the Watchtowers muttered something to one of the runners in the room. Something about it bugged me, so I snagged the runner before they got out of the room, pulling them to me with a tentacle.

"What was that?"

"Ma'am, I'm supposed to report to the Imperator directly." Kitten, you listening? I am.

"She's listening. Report." The Cadet, from Newark by the color of their jacket and shirt, blinked a couple times before nodding.

"Yes, Ma'am. The north Muscogee Watchtower reports smoke from the southern walls of Muscogee." Right then, back at the Homestead, where I'd been lifting the new boy to put a candle in a covered sconce on the front wall of East House, Lily dropped out of M-Space.

"Tabitha Diaz! Your enemies are at Muscogee, and the city burns!"

"Shit!" Everyone catch that? Saffron led a round of affirmative responses, after which she appeared to take the boy from me and said, "Go." The moment Saffron had him in her hands, I collapsed down to one of me, Co-Located to the top of the East Tower in M-Space, where I started drawing Mana, then took Lily by the hand and stepped us to Muscogee. Yeah, she gave me a booger look when we wound up in the honeymoon suite. Fuck it, it's the place that I could envision fastest. Also, Lily.

"Yeah, yeah, you like men. Lead me to them." She went straight out the French doors and over the balcony, leaping directly across to the roof across the street. I followed, Translocating rather than jumping, because while I think I could make the jump and land, I wasn't sure if the roof would hold my weight hammering into it at speed. The moment I landed next to her, she pointed at the southern wall. A single glance showed a section of the walls engulfed in flames.

Before I could move, I heard something and glanced north. Where wisps of smoke showed those walls catching fire as well. I took a deep breath.

"Fuck. Can we get everyone onto the ships in the harbor?" Lily looked at me like I'd grown another head.

"How?"

"Uh, walk? Run? Carry them?" She shook her head.

"No, I meant there are not enough ships."

"Slow month or something?" At her blank look I asked, "why aren't there enough ships to hold everybody? They don't need to stay afloat long, just get out beyond where the sails will catch." She shook her head.

"Since your last visit, more visitors have come from your Alliance, from Jackville, from Compton and Boltophsberg even." She waved one hand around the city.

"Most of these houses are homes now in truth." For half a second I froze.

"FUCK!" I think it was Lily's half sardonic, half panicked, "not now, Tabitha Diaz," that snapped me out of it. I smirked at her as things fell into place in my head.

"Later then." Kitten, I need Heroes, ones who know how to fight fires and evacuate people. Ladies, I need the Jotnar and the Trolls, as many as you can, here at Muscogee. Mittens, watch the kids?

"FUCK!" That last was because I'd just seen the fire leap from the outer wall, which was a pitiful little thing barely a dozen feet high, to the first of the very wooden, highly flammable houses. I leapt to the house, Created Water over top of it, and did the same over the conflagration the walls had become. Which is when the flames on the walls washed out to both sides, carried by the water that was supposed to douse them.

"What the fuck?" Greek fire! Saffron's shout into my brain made what I was seeing make sense, and before I could think I threw up a Ward against water and fire, expanding it to push both back. It got as far as the wall before it collapsed in gouts of steam. Orla? Yes, Goddess? I hate Cold Iron. Yes, Goddess. Right about then I saw a dozen little pots flying up and over the walls. I reacted without thinking, dumping a massive amount of Mana into another Ward, this one a massive one against fire and physical objects.

On the one hand, the Cold Iron in the Molotovs was not enough to drop my Ward. On the other hand, the outside of the Ward was now coated in flaming napalm, forcing me to stand there pouring Mana into it, because I knew as soon as I stopped those fuckers would toss enough Cold Iron to break through, at which point the flames would move into the City again. Kitten! I have this side, Imperator.

Tallulah's incongruous comment confused me until I glanced over to check on the far wall and saw another napalm covered Ward there, the Overlord standing atop a building, Shaping Ward after Ward, matching my raw power with skill and speed. We lost our Scrying connection to the Trolls when you moved, and the Jotnar are too big for us to move quickly.

Saffron's words could have been an accusation, but she remained calm, just assessing the situation and letting me know what was going on, utterly unfazed by the fog and chaos of war. Go, Mistress. I will watch over the children. Siobhan's voice in my head was followed by a roar, first in my head, then doubled over my shoulder, as Mittens and Sarah landed behind me. They both leapt, and it was all I could to do punch openings through the wall of flames before they hit it.

I felt like an idiot when Mittens Translocated them entirely past the flames, but there you go. We definitely needed to coordinate our top tier ass kickers a little more, I think. Careful, Mittens! There are like eighty of them! She snorted, Six. into my brain a moment before the roaring doubled. Then, freezing me in place due to the sheer disbelief in her mental voice, she thought, more retreating? Then Saffron was there next to me.

"I've got this side, love. Go, take the Spartans to the north." I nodded, but as I felt her take over maintaining the Wards, pulling Mana from me and Shaping it faster and cleaner than I ever did, I said, "I don't want to leave you alone and exposed like this." That's when Orla dropped in, four Heroes in Calverton colors flanking her, hands on shoulders.

"She's not alone." I felt Mads doing the same next to Tallulah, and turned back to Saffron, a feral smile stretching my lips.

"Be right back, Kitten. I gotta go fuck some shit up." Yeah, that got me a Grin, and I stepped to Tallulah, then up into the air to see over the wall of flames. A dozen Spartans split into two groups, one nearby winding up to throw more napalm, the other further back, shields out but swords still sheathed. Six of me stepped down, overpowered Mana Blades pulling on my Mana from M-Space swinging down to the Spartan's outstretched arms.

Four arms lopped off at the forearm, dropping their little explosive payloads onto the ground. The other two had Cold Iron in their Vambraces, which went from body temperature to molten iron in zero point zero seconds flat. At which point the nearby volatile concoction exploded.

"FUCK!" You seem to be saying that a lot, love. Is everything okay? Do we need to hit the Bedroom when the battle is done? No and yes and I just splashed the fuck out of four of me with burning napalm. I never would have thought all the fuckin' pain and agony I'd suffered, not to mention all the scars I'd accrued, would have a good side. Collapsing back to one non-burning me got rid of the napalm, but broad swathes of my skin still felt like I'd been char broiled.

A quick glance showed some parts angry red except for the white tracery of scars, other parts just faint pink, like I'd touched a hot stove rather than lit my shit on fire. I did that assessment from midway between the two groups of Spartans, where I'd stepped the moment the forward group lost the ability to launch Molotovs at Muscogee.

"Be with you in a minute, boys!" I called over my shoulder. I brought two of my big tentacles across, not so much to smash shit as because I'd just realized, remembered really, how much pouring that much Mana through myself, through one tentacle tip, wore me out. My big tentacles weren't up to anything fancy, but they had all the fuckin' Mana in the world. I slammed a Ward down around the six burning Spartans. Nothing fancy, nothing complex, just a Ward against air.

Positively humanitarian, that, since it would stop the poor bastards from burning, eventually. I kept stepping from side to side, slowly advancing on that Ward, half expecting a wave of Molotovs or spears or something else nasty from the Spartans behind me. I couldn't help but smile as the first Spartan forced his way through my Ward. The Mana drain to keep the Ward up was enough I felt it even through my big tentacles, but the screams as the Cold Iron in their armor melted or even boiled away was music to my ears.

I stepped to a spot between the City wall and the Ward, impressed despite myself when I saw the blackened wreckage of a dude, one leg gone from mid-calf down, one arm missing, the half of him missing an arm still on fire, still charging toward the Muscogee wall. I might not be traditional about my Sparagmos, but with the Cold Iron out of the picture, twin Mana Blades served to remove his limbs two at a time.

Erasing the poor bastards still screaming head really did seem like mercy at that point, no snarky bullshit required. It took a bit before the final Spartan stumbled out of the smoke-filled Air Ward. By that point I'd taken to just erasing their heads, since all but one of them seemed blinded by the heat and smoke. The moment the last one fell, I turned to face the other six. They were nowhere in sight. Love? I could use some help here. I stepped back to Saffron's side.

"Air ward around the fire?" She shook her head.

"I tried that. This fire had burned longer, the heat is enough to reignite things the moment I drop the Ward." She snorted.

"I've had my hands full keeping the heat from igniting anything outside the Ward." As I stood there trying to think how to deal with the complex problem, the temperature dropped. Like, 'conflagration to walk in freezer' in half a second. A moment later the flames froze, flickered, and died. In the gathering twilight, I spotted a twist in the air, only visible because of the thin dusting of snow swirling through it.

"Matriarch." I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding.

"Jack. Good to see you." I glanced north.

"Any chance you can work your mojo on the Spartans who ran?" He shook his head.

"In moments I will no longer be Jack Frost, but Witty Jack once more."

"That gonna light back up when you do?" I nodded to the former fire. He shrugged.

"Not unless someone ignites it. It will melt quickly though." I nodded, glancing around at the Heroes bracketing Saffron.

"You guys can help with cleanup, right?" They nodded, and I turned back to my Kitten.

"Can you get someplace safe-ish and coordinate? I'll need to hunt those six down." Before she could reply, I remembered.

"Fuck." Mittens? Hunting. Wait, some of yours rabbited too? Cowards. Now and then, and now was definitely a then, something reminded me that my beautiful Murder Mittens Marie, first among Maenads and Queen of the Murderfuck Cult, was in fact Spartan by birth. She sounded positively offended that any of the Spartans had run. Any chance you can help me with the ones to the north? Yeah, I got a definite sense of rolled eyes as she thought back, Later. Hunters.

Which is how, as the sun went down, I found myself in the company of my six trackers and Lemonkyenin, running northward from Muscogee, tracking down half a dozen fleeing Spartans. Something about that struck me as deeply wrong, but I could not for the life of me figure out what. Other than the fact that these fuckers were making me miss my New Years Revel, my Friday Revel, and Siobhan's birthday all at the same time.