Diary of a Teenaged Mimic

Dear Diary,

I never really realized how much I lean on my hyper-focus when it comes to learning shit, nor how much I loathe reading shit that defies focusing on it.

I mean, I guess I kinda realized my first real Monday here and now. Trying to read some of those books I borrowed from the library? Utterly painful. Like, I’d rather sand my nips off with a rusty cheese grater. But then time passed, and I only had to dive into those books to, like, find specific shit about laws or whatever. It’s pretty clear how much I didn’t do even that, what with not really knowing much beyond, ’I am the law’. Which, now that I think about it, is just another step on the shit pyramid.

Wait, is the Shit Pyramid like, an Egyptian Great Pyramid smoothed sucker, or one of the earlier chunky ones, or a Mesoamerican stepped one, or even one of those East Asian ones I don’t know the name for? Because the Egyptian Golden Age one seems streamlined to have as much shit as possible wind up at the very base, whereas while the Mesoamerican ones had those rockin’ blood grooves to drain off the excess sacrifice juice, pretty much every stepped layer would accumulate its own layers of shit. Meanwhile I don’t remember the name of the East Asian pyramid style, but I think they were temples, and they had, like, shingles and shit. So they’ve got the whole Deity connection and would probably be as good or better than the Egyptian ones at delivering shit to the bottom of the pyramid.

On balance, though, given exactly how much shit I realize Larry received before I, y’know, took him on as my very own special, ’fuck you, Lenny, you use my wife as bait, I un-dysfunctional your family’!’ project, I’m gonna have to go with the Mesoamerican ones. Y’know, I kinda wonder if any of the pyramids exist in the here and now.

Boss?

Yes, Daughter?

Are step Pyramids a thing down in the isthmus between Atlantis and whatever continent is south of us?

I’ve never actually been down there.

Really?

Some of them are a little... extreme for my tastes.

Whoa. Do I need to put them on my list of people who need a stern talking to?

Silence reigned in my head for a minute. Okay, the background noise hadn’t stopped in as long as I can remember, but you know what I mean. Should you choose to interfere in the affairs of other Pantheons, might I suggest you speak with the Tricksters of those Pantheons, perhaps arrange a non-violent meeting before you, how did you put it, ’roll in guns blazing’?

Aw, you’re no fun.

...

Okay, fine, you’re a blast and all, but I had so much fun down in Norfolk.

Another pregnant pause. Isn’t that what you were afraid of, Tabitha Diaz?

Fuck. Oh, fuck me. Fuckity fucking fucknuggets. Thanks Boss. I need time to think about this.

Even though you fail and fall, I cannot help but admire and be proud of the heights you aspire to, Daughter.

Thanks, Boss. You’re the best.

I know.

So, I dunno if step Pyramids are a thing. But now I want to make a giant washing machine, shove the Great Pyramid at Giza halfway into it, then steal a Pyramid from Mesoamerica and prop it up on the one that’s stuck in the washing machine. I mean, if nobody’s gonna get your jokes because they aren’t Men of Culture, you might as well tell them so loud they echo through the ages, right?

Back to reading, though, I spent all day yesterday in our suite, trying to puzzle out the three books I found. Of course, the first one I pulled out had to be ’Principles of Heroic Magick’. Because apparently I hate myself enough to not yeet that shit into the sun like it desperately deserves. By mid morning, I tapped out of the fuckin Library Love Shack after the fourth time I found myself focused entirely on the texture of Marie’s fur. Before you ask, ’but weren’t you supposed to focus on Combat Training?’ I figured there might be something useful to Lug’s stuff. I mean, ’Strong Arm’, ’Swift Foot’, and ’Thick Skin’ might be the most unimaginative names I’ve read, but you can’t deny they sound like shit that would be useful in a fight.

With that in mind, I went through the steps the book listed for learning the Skills. ’Strong Arm’ listed out some pretty basic arm workouts. Curls, one armed presses, stuff I didn’t know the name for, but had seen football players back at Eastside doing when I went to the weight room by the gym for research purposes.

What? Researching imagery for my mental spank bank is still research. I take my me time very seriously. Well, as seriously as I take anything.

At any rate, a Co-Located one of me went through the equipment sheds looking for weights. On the plus side, the Academy had a couple decent weight sets, both the ones we’d used for testing and training, and a couple others used for folks focused on Strength training in Individual Physical Training. Unfortunately, I didn’t really think about the side effects of having Mimicked the guys down in Norfolk. I’m not sure how much the dumbbells weighed, but the biggest one looked not entirely unlike somebody’d built a semi tractor dual wheel out of metal. Feeling kinda goofy after spending too much time trying to figure out bullshit, I reached out, wrapped my hand around the grip, and yanked.

I think I might have knocked another tooth out. I swallowed something when I smashed that shit into my face, at any rate. I sighed, brought it with me out of the shed, and stood there doing curls while I focused on reading ’thick skin’. Which, frankly, I’m not sure I needed, but the other Cadets might. Apparently, the trick was to let yourself get injured. I checked my Status, saw no ’Thick Skin’, and figured if I didn’t have it yet, I wasn’t going to get it. Then I remembered that whole ’Juveniles don’t get Skills’ thing and hit myself in the face with the dumbbell again.

Before I even looked at ’Swift Foot’, I decided to ask an expert. I walked over the armoire, slid the door open, and called out, ”Son, do you have a moment?”

Somehow he popped up from the top of the door, but without transiting the space between there and the floor, he stood in front of me. ”Yes, Mother dear?”

”I had maybe a couple questions about Heroic Skills.” I waggled the book at him.

His lips twitched.

I closed my eyes, sighed, and said, ”out with it.”

”I’m afraid I might be at least partially at fault there. Although in my defense, I was much younger at the time. And it was, in my opinion, hilarious.”

I held the book up, not sure whether to bludgeon him with it or not. ”You wrote this?”

”NO!” He actually looked offended. ”What do you take me for? The grammar in that pile of incoherent ramblings is atrocious. No, I simply created enough copies to see that it would never truly cease to be. I have a few more...” he snatched the book away, flipped through the pages, ”although in much better condition, with much better initial quality, stored around here somewhere.” He handed my copy back. ”I just find it hilarious when would be ’Heroes’ turn to this... thing.”

”So it’s so much bullshit?”

His face scrunched up, more expression than I’d seen on him in a while. ”Not as such? Nothing in there is technically incorrect, but it’s written from the perspectives of individuals who paid little to no attention while they were acquiring their Skills, and thus had only the vaguest of ideas how to acquire or enhance them.” Then he snickered again.

I put on my best Mom face and voice. ”And?”

”I think it’s hilarious how far those training to be Heroes will go to get ’Thick Skin’.”

My lips twitched. ”Like?”

”I am still uncertain if he thought his body would become immune to damage, or to the loss of his head, or... I’m not certain what other things the dolt might have thought, but the ’Hero’ who auto-decapitated in an attempt to improve his ’Thick Skin’ will always remain a fond memory.”

I couldn’t help it. I’d hit the point of laugh or cry. I laughed, for more than a little while.

”Okay, Son. I need some advice on how to learn physical enhancement Skills.”

”Really?”

I shrugged. ”I’m supposed to be teaching other people. I can’t do that if I have no idea what I’m doing.”

He nodded, sudden enlightenment shining in his eyes. ”Ah! Yes, I can offer advice then. First, you’re aware that Mana is, in fact, a form of Energy, yes? Like heat, or light, or electricity?”

”Wasn’t aware as such, but yeah, that makes sense.”

He nodded again, then said, ”Mana is generated exclusively by living things.”

I nodded in response, then stopped and tilted my head. ”What about ley lines?”

He shook his head the tiniest bit. ”Ley lines do not generate Mana. They are flows of Mana from places where it is created in excess concentration to places where it is either less common or more easily dispersed.”

”Uh. Okay, yeah, I can get that. What about Skills?”

”Almost all living things, even some incapable of manipulating Mana in any other way, use Mana to enhance themselves. While sapient living things have found ways to Shape Mana to create effects not seen in nature, the simplest things to do with Mana are to enhance what a living thing can already do.”

I thought about that for a second. ”You mean, like, just dumping mana into my arms when I want to lift more?”

”I would strongly recommend reinforcing your legs and spine as well, but yes, Mother dearest, that is the meat of it.”

”So if I really wanted to learn this stuff, practicing according to the book while channeling Mana into my body would help?”

”Indubitably.”

”Okay. Thanks, Son!”

”Any time, Mother Dearest.”

”Gotta go get back to work.” I stopped at the door. ”Open or closed?”

”I’ve no preference.”

”I’ll leave it ajar, in case you need us?”

”Thank you, Mother dearest.”

So I set the me down in the Practice Yard to doing laps, as per the listed method for ’Swift Foot’, focusing on my internal Mana flow, trying to nudge it down to my legs. Of course, the book said to ’race someone who might be faster than you’, so I popped off another me and had them spend the day doing ever faster laps.

Meanwhile back in the suite I set ’Principles of Heroic Magick’ aside and picked up... well, when I picked it off the shelf, a combination of six AM and lowered lights made me think I’d found an absolute treasure. This one had the title on the first page inside the cover, and when I absentmindedly read, ”A Exhausted Comprehensive Gide to Powerful Eastern Marital Arts, with Detailed Lifelike Illustrations, as compiled by Hirshfeld and Scott’, I might have made the natural misread. On the other hand, this one sure as shit had my complete focus for most of the rest of the afternoon. I even rejoined Saffron and Marie in the Love Shack to try some of that shit out.

On the one hand, by sunrise on Saturday I definitely had at least two new kinks, for a granular enough value of ’kink’. On the other hand, for somebody with no body modesty, sense of personal space, or shame, some of those positions were really fuckin’ hardcore submission holds, and those adjectives apply in any combination you can think of.

Next Thursday would be way more fun than this one.

Of course, right around sunset somebody knocked on the suite door. Marie answered it, came in, and shook me until I crankily dropped out of my reader’s trance. Closing my book around my finger so as not to lose my place, I walked over to the door to find duBois leaning against the doorframe. He either didn’t recognize the book or chose not to comment, just said, ”I kinda hoped you’d be here. Any chance you could at least take a break with the laps in the Practice Yard?”

I shrugged and brought those two mes to a sliding stop. Which turned into at least three ricochets off of corners. ”Uh...”

”Yeah. Thanks. The Cadets training didn’t dare try to get out. I came by here because I heard them yelling.”

The mes in the Practice Yard looked around to see the other Cadets darting through the door opposite where I stood. ”Why didn’t they say anything to me?”

He just smirked. ”Good book?”

I collapsed those mes back into me and flipped him off. ”I’ve been trying to read up on combat techniques, or at least how to get Skills that might apply.”

He tilted his head, looking at the book in my hand. ”I don’t recognize that one. Did you pick it up outside the Academy?”

”Uh... yeah.”

”Mind if I take a look?”

I clutched my prize to my chest. ”Uh. Maybe when I’ve really mastered everything in this one.”

He shrugged. ”Okay. I look forward to you showing me when you do. G’night.” I’m not sure if he noticed me choking on my own spit or not, or why he chose to ignore it and walk away anyway, but I decided right then and there that ’submission holds’ would feature prominently in his Gold Watch. Don’t look at me like that, you know as well as I do that Future Tabitha will absolutely forget that shit.

The following day in Law and Custom, still maybe not entirely coherent after a night of intense study of Marital Arts, I stole Saffron’s attention away from her coding. ”Can you maybe help me put together something like ’Law and Custom’ for Norfolk?”

”The ’Law’ portion will be excessively short, you realize?”

”Yeah, well, I gotta figure out a way to beef that up then, and get buy in, which means I need to learn those Customs, don’t I?”

She folded one arm under her breasts, propping her other elbow on her hand, tapping at her teeth with her fingernails. ”You know I’d rather be working on Inspect.”

I lay a hand on her shoulder. ”I know, Kitten, and I don’t want to foist off all my work on you, but... there are more girls like Hilde down there, who shouldn’t have to wait on my insufficiently organized brain to have someone turn their world into something less oppressive than daily rape and scullery duty.”

She blew a dual lungful of air out of her nose. ”Fine. Spoilsport.”

I gave her a bit of ’down the nose’ side eye at that. ”What?”

She put on an absolute mockery of Menace’s mulish face and said, ”I don’ wanna help,” then her whole posture shifted, becoming vaguely confrontational as her eyes fluttered half closed. ”Make me.”

Yeah, one shoulder grab and a Co-Location later, Submission Holds were Employed. I never said they weren’t fun as shit. Just really fuckin’ impossible to get out of. Which is absolutely why I was weaponizing them as fast as possible. Next time some asshole comes at me all, ’I kill you, I kill your family, I kill your cow!’, I’m gonna see if I can make him auto-fellate himself. Sure as shit seems more merciful than using his skull to show off my mighty Kegels, y’know?

’Needing to be forced to’, and I can’t even say that with a straight face, or not, Saffron helped me find, decipher, and understand everything in the Library on customs which did or might apply to Norfolk. By the end of the day we had enough notes to make an actual ’Law and Custom of Heroic: Norfolk Edition’, and I knew that the next thing I’d have to do is call for a, and I shit you not this is the actual name, ’Thing’ where all the Jarls met, with multiple possible Moots to dispense with any potential personal disputes before we all sat down and hammered out some actual Laws for Norfolk.

Shit. I thought I’d dodged this particular bullet when I made Saffron Imperator.