Chương 991: Day Nine Hundred And Eighty-Nine

Dear Diary, Sometimes I forget that I'm a forgetful bitch. Which sounds kinda redundant, but believe me, it's a whole 'nother layer of suck. Seriously, if you know you're forgetful, you can take all kinds of steps to help work with that. Lists. Patterns. Notes. All kinds of shit that just helps jog the memory. Of course, I think some of that is mostly useful for people who have basically structured, reliable memory, rather than the random bullshit in my brain that passes for it. Saffron is a great example of that.

When I feel her mind against mine, whether it's me seeing and feeling through her or her reaching into me, there's structure there. Her Mind is a book with a complete and comprehensive index, a filing cabinet with those little plastic tabs on each and every folder, a library with a whole assed card catalog and shit. Yes, I know about card catalogs. The library at Eastside had one. We all learned how to use that before we got to learn how to use the computers in the room.

Which all of us already knew mostly how to use, even though we'd learned by looking up how to use them with our phones. The computers, not the card catalogs. Nobody looked those up, because nobody wanted to listen to some nerd drone on for an hour about the superiority of three by five cardstock. Motherfucker. I mean, beyond referring to myself, I think I might have missed out on some prime bean polishing material there.

Seriously, earbuds in, hand slipped into my blouse and down under my skirt, nerd video with nerd nerding out about their nerddom of choice, that shit would have been like pornographic ASMR for me. The fact that I'm kinda in the mood thinking about my Kitten's library brain and its cardstock filing system tells me more than I ever wanted to know about myself.

Okay, that's not true, but I'm kinda mad that I never twigged to that, because holy shit but what's the librarian gonna do, tell me to stop watching videos about how to use the fuckin' card catalog? Shit, I never knew until it was too late that having weird kinks would be useful. Thing is, some people with bad memories just have, like, misfiled books, or poorly written indexes. Poorly managed card catalogs. All that kind of shit. Me, my brain is the internet.

No, really, there's all kinds of random factoids in there. Most of it irrelevant, pornographic, deliberately offensive, or some combination thereof. Seriously, I'm pretty sure at this point I could Scry on the lemonparty folks and summon up their tub, or that fucked up ice cream machine. Yeah, I was an absolute edge lord bitch back in the day, of course I knew each and every image or video that could do psychic damage just by looking at it. All that memetic kill vehicle shit.

Makes me wonder if, like, instead of any of that stuff Dad talked about, the contents of my brain just breached containment or something and started doing psychic damage to me instead. Fuck, maybe that's what that fuckin' 'underlying damage' is, all the shit I put myself through back in the day. Then again, I did that just to feel shit. Because... Fuck on toast. Fuck buckets.

The past couple days, basically since New Year's, I've been having this whole fuckin' deal where any kind of emotions I feel hit a point and just drain away, leaving me empty. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Leaving me like I was before I got fuckin' isekaied. Shit, I don't know what that means. Not really. Part of me thinks it might be important, but most of me wants to trust my Dad. My Wife. Maybe even my Son, if that's who we wind up taking this to. Fuck it.

"Da..." After Saffron and Loki Smiting me all day long, my body didn't want to body. I wasn't entirely sure I hadn't dissolved down to a tentacle tip at some point. Dad? Kitten?

"Yes, love?" I could hear the sweat in Saffron's voice, and if I'd been one whit less Smote, I'd have jumped on her just to smell it. I just realized, the way I'm feeling when everything kinda bleeds out of me? Is how I used to feel. Back in the day. Before I came here. Weird, I could feel my Kitten rooting through my brain, Loki's brain, and her own at a rate that I couldn't quite follow, but definitely appreciated.

"Perhaps the assorted damage has hurt your connection to your greater self?" What, I broke my main tentacle or something? She chuckled.

"Oh, love. I don't think there is a 'main' one. But perhaps metaphorically that's not inaccurate." I snorted. I tried to snort. Too calm. Too serene. Aren't I made out of metaphoric stuff? She hummed.

"Well, Lord? What do you think?" He rolled his head around to look at where she sat, leaning against the side of his bed.

"I think you've more than earned the right to call me 'Dad' if you like, Daughter-In-Law." Her eyes rolling, she said, "well then, Father Loki, what are our best options for treatment, and should we do them concurrently or in sequence?" He took a moment thinking. He took forever thinking. Time had gone all wonky again.

"I suspect that she ought receive treatment from your Son as a first step." Yeah, even a day long Smite session didn't prevent my ass from clenching a little at that. Y'mean...?

"Sadly, yes. That machine put you back together with nary a new scar. If it can manipulate Soul stuff, it ought to be able to reconnect your Soul properly. Although at that point you'd want more Healing of the sort we did today, then perhaps some additional Warding on your Soul. At that point..." I'd be cured? I'd be cured, right? Saffron sighed and took over my brief.

"No, love. Or rather, the damage done to you would be set, like a broken bone, and ready to begin healing." I sighed. No chance there could be some kind of anesthesia during the procedure, is there? She flopped one shoulder.

"We can ask." Okay. I hated whining like a little kid, but... That fuckin' Machine. So what about after that?

"After that we return here, do more of this, then Father Loki does what he can to reinforce your Soul, after which you spend some time recuperating." More time at the Homestead?

"Some, yes, but I've got other ideas. If you trust me?" Absolutely.

"Then I'll set it up. In the meanwhile, sleep, love." Kinda wanted to go home with the kids. She rocked her head back and forth.

"Not until our new pair can join you here." How long? Her shoulder rocked.

"A day or two. By the time you're done and ready to begin recuperating." Okay. I tried to stop myself, but I couldn't help it. Will you stay with me? She chuckled, hefted herself up, and crawled up onto the table with me.

"Of course, Love." We got hugs and kisses from the kids before they headed home. Dreamt of my ladies running long handled, soft bristled brushes over my tentacles. Woke late, with the sun overhead, which I could still tell despite being deep underground in Loki's cave. Saffron sat there watching me.

"Are you ready, love?" I closed my eyes. Worked my mouth.

"No." I snorted.

"But I'm never gonna be. Still not real mobile. Carry me?"

"You just want to be princess carried."

"Not even gonna try to deny it. I'll walk." She rolled off the table and, before I could move, scooped me up.

"No the fuck you will not, love." She nodded to Dad.

"Father."

"Daughter-In-Law." Then she stepped us to Conrad's Workshop. He already had The Machine out and set up. It did not, in fact, have any method of anesthesia.