Diary of a Teenaged Mimic

Dear Diary,

Of all things I did not expect, a sudden return to classes might have been near the top of the list.

So last night went as my nights lately have gone. Full night of lounging by the lake, psychedelic tadpoles tickling my bits in the lake and the bits in the little rivulet running underneath me. Y’know, if they can get between me and the ground, maybe they’re not tadpoles? I know there’s other shit that lives in the water until it, like, goes into a chrysalis and you know what? I’m not gonna think about that any more. More itchy bits; I still couldn’t be arsed to move, I just scraped myself against the rocks over there. When I looked I could kinda see something moving. Ants? Way too small to be ants. Maybe really little ants? Fuck, I’m a etymology geek, not a entomology geek. Okay, we all know I’m a mythology geek by now.

Woke up to the melodious sounds of Isnomi singing. I might be a little biased, but I don’t think I’m actually full on Mom-psycho either. I lay there, eyes closed, as I listened to her sing a little tune. Not, like, straight up ’next Taylor Swift’ or anything, but she wasn’t incapable of carrying a tune in a bucket, and she had some rhythm in her. I’d kind of drifted into a half-asleep meditative state listening to her until I heard Saffron trying to hide a sniffle beneath me.

You okay, Kitten?

That song. I used to hum it to her when she was littler. Before I met you. My Mom used to sing it to me before... Grandma sang it to me after Mom died. I just...

I shifted to put my arms around her, then cracked my eyes open to look over to where Isnomi leaned against her bed, sitting in her little toddler version tailor seat, swaying as she sang to Vulcan, holding one hand carefully hovering an inch above him. Her hand drifted back and forth as she swayed to her own song, but never wavered up or down. I don’t know how long we lay like that, but the tune of our little one’s little lullaby cycled a couple times before Saffron joined in, her quiet voice muffled by my hug, but still making Isnomi’s head snap around to stare at us while she kept singing.

”Sleep, my darling, while I guard you,

I rock your cradle to put you to sleep,

Sleep, my wee girl, luck will ward you,

Let Tyche your Fate, your Destiny keep.”

Isnomi held her hand rock steady as she and Saffron went quiet. I held up one finger and nodded to the menace. She grinned a big old goofy grin, then gently lay her hand on Vulcan’s stock, stroked it once, then lifted it away. She turned to him and said, ”ga na, bada”, then pushed herself to her feet and tiptoe ran over to us. I scooped her up and lay her in between Saffron and I.

”You’re a very good Big Sister, my girl.” Saffron hugged Isnomi to her, and I put my arms around both of them and pulled them close. We lay like that until Marie came in with her cart.

”Mawa!” the menace squirmed out and dove off the bed, Marie managing to catch her as her face brushed the padding on the floor. She scooped her up and plonked her down on the cart. I realized at that point I’d forgotten something when going over Isnomi’s Rules For Vulcan.

”Isnomi?”

”Yeh, mama?”

That got Saffron and Marie’s attention as well. ”Okay, you know the promise you made about playing with your brother, right?”

Her eyes narrowed a little. ”Yeh?”

”I’m not changing the rules, but there have to be consequences if you break the rules.” Her little arms folded, and her lip stuck out. ”That’s the breaks, kiddo. Right, Mom?”

Saffron nodded, ”exactly right, Momma.”

”Right Marie?”

”Yes.”

The lip stuck out further, but I pressed on. ”So, you’ve managed to follow the rules so far. You didn’t touch until I told you that you could, and we didn’t say anything about talking or singing to your brother, so you’re fine there. But if you break the rules and touch him without permission, or play with him some other way, no cart for three days.” I held up three fingers.

She squawked, ”tee? Na! Too!” and held up her index and middle fingers.

I shook my head. ”Three.” I held up three fingers again.

”Too!” She held up one finger, ”Un!” then another, ”too!”

”Three, Menace. If you keep fussing about this, I’m going to start thinking you’re looking for a way to weasel past the rules. After all, if you follow the rules, you won’t lose any cart days, will you?” She folded her arms again, stuck out her bottom lip, and let out an enormous fart. ”Oh, good God, who have you eaten, Menace? Are we gonna have to put you back in diapers again?”

Of course she took that opportunity to push herself up to her feet, with her hands still on the cart, and waggle her noxious, yet somehow sparkling clean ass at us. ”Ptthffppptt!” Then she tumbled forward off the cart, laughing as Marie snatched her up right before her head hammered into the floor. At this point I’m pretty sure the floor would have gotten the worst of it.

Marie handed over all but one Isnomi-uniform worth of clean clothes, then set to getting the little one presentable. Meanwhile I put the laundry away while Saffron got dressed, then I helped her tie down and button up before turning to our shrine. I blinked in surprise to find The Dress missing; when I turned to Marie she held it out, completely cleaned. ”Thank you!”

”De Nada.” I swear, by her posture and downturned gaze, she’d be blushing if she could. I swept her into a hug, then let her dress me up. I mean, I kinda needed the help with the boots, and it was kinda a trip to hop up onto her cart and perch next to a wide-eyed Isnomi while Marie put them on.

Shortly after that, Marie and Isnomi rolled out for their day of carting fun, and Saffron and I made our way down to the Dining Hall. Only a few trays of spicy eggs, but extra jalapeno scrapple, and endless sausages today. Lancaster walked up mid-sausage-fest and sneered, ”Father says you’re to attend Intermediate Heroic Skills today.”

”Fuck!”

He jumped a bit at my exclamation, ”you’d prefer to run all day, rather than learn something? Of course you would.”

”No! You made me lose count.” I shrugged. ”Didn’t really know how many I needed to eat anyhow.”

That drew a confused, ”how many?” out of him.

”How many male Lancasters are there?” I asked as I swallowed a sausage whole.

I saw the beginnings of a leer creep across his face as he said, ”forty two, nine still living, not counting Lachlan and myself.”

”Hey, thanks! Wanna see a trick Loki taught me?”

His face went full teenage-boy-leer, right up until I Mimicked however Isnomi did her shark-jaw thing and ripped the sausage in my hand into a greasy, torn up mess. I had a tough time not spitting it out laughing as his hands seemed to jump to cover his crotch of their own accord. He spun around and stalked back to the Barbie Brigade table, shaking his head and muttering something about ’crazy Bag bitches’. I couldn’t even get mad at him, since he wasn’t even right, and it would have been pretty stupid to correct him, since while Isnomi and I were both Bag, the shark-jaw thing was a Mor thing, not a Bag thing.

The rest of the table managed to hold it in until he got back to his own table, then everybody broke down laughing. Despite having to restart my count, and Saffron wanting to leave early, I still managed to messily shred forty three more sausages before breakfast ended, staring straight at poor Larry the whole time. At one point he half rose, turning like he intended to go tell his dad, but I just ravaged another sausage while he watched. I mean, what’s he gonna do, go tell daddy that I scared him with my messy eating?

Intermediate Heroics wound up focusing entirely on a new Spell, ’Air Shield’. It functioned kinda like Filtration Ward, except it didn’t allow nearly so much give, and pushed back everything except air itself, and according to DeLeon could only be formed into a flat, round cushion. He said it would straight up stop most lighter projectiles, and worked pretty well for keeping someone from faceplanting when plummeting. Kinda handy. I expected they wanted Saffron and the other Cadets to know it for when they got to the front, which sorta ruined my whole appreciation for a day when I wasn’t running all day.

After lunch even that went to suck, what with us getting pulled back into training, and me going to endless laps of the Boulevard. I started making up Jody calls on my own. I mean, based on stuff I’d heard or read, but still. Apparently there’s no HR here in Phileo, because I went full NC-17 with the calls, and both the men and women in the units laughed so hard they had a hard time keeping the pace while calling them back to me.

”I don’t know but I been told,

Loki’s got a three foot pole.

I don’t know but I been told,

Sigyn’s ass is good as gold.”

I am entirely uncertain as to what I am going to do with you, High Priestess.

You want me to stop, Boss?

Even without looking through his eyes, I still got the impression that he’d facepalmed. I... This is the first organized worship Sigyn or I have had in centuries, you realize?

Really? This counts? Cool!

Yes, but the, ah, secondary effects, due to the nature of your hymn... He broke down and growled out, you couldn’t have waited twenty more minutes?

What can I say? I’m absolutely Loki’s faithless devotee, and best High Priestess who would never do anything mean to my God.

Yeah, right. I sang louder, getting everyone running with me to do so as well, because I am absolutely That Bitch.