Day One Thousand Two Hundred And Seventeen

Dear Diary,

Apparently yesterday wasn't some kind of weird fluke. Between the Revel a few weeks back when one of my Jotnar Worshippers wanted me to cook him dinner, the upcoming Harvest Feasts, and above all the ridiculously bountiful harvests the Alliance had this year, folks are gearing up to some kind of massive celebration in a few weeks, and they're using my Revels as a kind of practice slash competition.

One that I very politely declined being a judge for.

No, seriously, I get the whole 'participation trophy' thing. I understand that competition can be a way to push somebody into doing better than they ever thought possible. But I'm also realizing that I'm in the kind of position that can destroy somebody's whole fuckin' self-image with a careless gesture. I am consciously choosing not to put myself in a position to do that.

Accept the first slice or bowl or whatever of something as a kind of offering? Shit, yes, I will take that. As I've noted many times, my trunk had junk for a reason. Gourmand rather than gourmet, really, but I'm still a Foodie at heart. I love me some eats, and... I dunno, I think when I'm sitting there on my Altar and somebody brings me something they put their whole heart into, I taste that... I'm not gonna say 'taste that shit', because it's not. Shit. It's something more precious than... I really can't think of anything more precious. More precious than just food, really. More precious than Worship. It's...

I taste the juncture of their Passion, their Worship, their Skills, and their... Their love, I guess. I think? I definitely feel some of that same intimate connection that I did with all the people I've sat with on my Altar.

Wait. Fuck. Along with all my other Domains of questionable virtue utility, I really don't know what I'm gonna do if I'm becoming a Goddess of Cooking. That's Marie's job. I mean, not in a way that I'd foist on her, but I really only got into it as a way to get closer to her, and if I wind up a Goddess of Cooking when she's right there, I'm gonna feel some kinda way about it.

As you've said to me more than once, Daughter, there's a lot of overlap between yourself and your partners, Marie most especially.

Yeah, I guess you're... Wait, was that a double entendre?

I have no idea whatever you could mean.

Seriously, I know I'm an adult woman, but you're still my Dad, and sex jokes are just...

Sorry, can't hear you, going into a tunnel.

You... Nope, can't get me with that one again.

True, that would only be a single entendre.

Yeah, I should know better than to get into a battle of wits with a millennia old Trickster God. Pfft. Only if Mom prefers that, oh Deity who taught me Co-Location.

Tabitha! Are you trying to give your father marital advice?

Nah. My dad doesn't need it. Because he's the best.

Still disturbing when I can hear Mom's voice through Dad's brain. He knows.

I guess Marie and I do have a lot in common. So I guess if I wind up a Goddess of Cooking, maybe she'll wind up as a Goddess of Homemaking.

Oh. Oh, fuck. I just realized another thing. We've got Hearth and Home, Marital Devotion, Children, and now maybe Cooking and Homemaking. I've thought a lot about how the Pantheon seems to have more than its fair share of Trickster types, but how am I only now realizing that we're a Pantheon of, I dunno, Maternity? The Mom Pantheon?

I dunno. Maybe I'm putting too much thought into it. But then, I spent at least half of yesterday nomming. Went over to my class of Cadets before I fell into a food coma, only to find them all staggering in circles around the Practice Yard in Newark. Like, obviously tryna keep up the motion, but equally all in the same condition I was.

"You all spend some time at the Revel last night?"

That got me a group reply of, "yes, Champion!"

I almost pushed them. Almost. But somehow I couldn't force myself to make them all puke up everything that had been shared. "Okay then. Here's what's gonna happen. Today, instead of sparring, you're all gonna walk.. Walk, I said, not run, laps until dinner. But I expect to see each of you in Phileo on Monday or Camden Yards on Wednesday, bright and early."

"How?" one of them shouted out.

"That's up to you. I know you can all make the run overnight. Maybe work something out with your other classes. Maybe shift your Devotional day around and call it a bribe or something. But that's part of the job of being a Hero. Getting the job done even when shit gets weird."

Yeah, they all looked a little put out, but not in any kind of bad way. More like they'd expected to be given specific instructions, and instead I'd just handed them a goal and told them to make it happen. Which, if this was the class I'd started with, would have left them all just sitting there staring, utterly at a loss.

Instead, I had a class of Cadets looking for ways to adapt and overcome.

Guess I don't suck as bad as I thought. Or maybe even I can get some spirit into someone given enough time and effort.

Got home, had dinner, most of which was leftovers. I mean, Marie and I had made all those pies and pastries, so each kid and mom had some kind of little savory entree; we'd warmed up the ones that needed it in the oven, and put all the leftovers we'd brought home from the Revel on the table in the middle. It's not like my faithful didn't do plenty of eating on their own, not to mention the visitors the smells had drawn, but when it seemed like every one of my Worshippers had brought a dish that would feed a dozen people, that left a lot of leftovers, with each of them not eating for a dozen.

Hell, even Marie was only eating for nine.

Got into the tub, where even Anise, Felicia, and Isnomi seemed ready to just float and digest. When folks started to nod off, I scooped them up, dried them off, and carried them down to the bedroom. I know we've slept in the Bath before, but some part of me still believed in that 'don't go in swimming after a big meal' thing.

Woke up, got all the kids down to Calverton, where Furtim dropped off the Troll girls. I'm still stunned at how fast they're picking everything up. Like, faster even than the kits did. Although when I think about it, I remember something about some lizards popping out the shell ready to rock, just littler than they'd eventually be. Which, as noted, if these five are anything like Isadora, they're gonna rival some of the shorter Jotnar, while also being Troll tough.

Scary thought, sort of. Except...

Menace. Whose biggest impact on the culture of the Alliance so far, at least as far as I can tell, is Trick or Treat.

Maybe with the right parenting, the next generation of Trolls won't be so much 'alien scary lizards from the dawn of time' as 'just another Human Adjacent species living in the Alliance'. Only hopefully, if they've got anything like their mom's dedication and discipline, the kind of thing where folks will see them and think 'thank the gods, I'm safe'.

You mean like they do with you, especially when you're in your Holy Garb?

Aw, Dad. You're making me blush.

It's true, though.

Thanks, Dad. You're the best.

I know.

Yeah, really prefer those interactions with him to the ones where he tries to get me to reach for the brain bleach.