Diary of a Teenaged Mimic

Dear Diary,

Not much to talk about today.

After seeing Saffron to the Infirmary for Sister Siobhan to check her out, I returned to the Practice Yard and ran laps for the rest of the day. I made it a little challenging by sprinting at top speed until I nearly fell down from exhaustion, then jogging until I felt I'd got my wind back enough to sprint again. I kept hoping someone would twig to the fact that two of the ROTC crew had beaten me, but nobody else wanted to risk the kind of beatdown I'd given the Barbie Brigade.

Only one nightmare last night, although I'm not sure I should call an eternity of staring at a tiny glowing crack in the ceiling a proper nightmare. I woke up to Marie knocking on my door. I opened the door sans clothes, thanked her for the clean laundry she delivered, and went about my day. Okay, she gave me a good long look up and down, smiling before saying 'de nada' and wandering off to do Marie things, but that's pretty much my day.

I forgot to ask her for a bath last night, and I didn't see her at breakfast, although I got there a little late. Okay, really late, I spent a little alone time in my room before dressing and heading out. No spicy eggs left for your girl Tabitha.

I picked up Loki in the park outside the school, and he led me to a really nice hole-in-the-wall café down on the waterfront next to Delaware Ave. We just sat there vibing most of the day, commenting on passerby and shooting the shit about nothing much.

I did have one question that had bugged me since my bout with Angel. "Hey Boss, how is it that Angel could keep me in that hold?"

He looked a little confused, so I kind of pointed my brain at him the way I'd do when I needed his attention and ran through my memory of the event.

"Ah! I see. Were you really feeling trapped, confined, and so on?"

"Maybe, yeah, sorta."

He nodded, "so much so that you'd break your friend's fingers to get away?"

I shook my head, "No, not so much."

"There you go then. Magic, whether divine, arcane, or any other variety I've heard of, tends to follow the wielder's subconscious desires in the absence of conscious direction to do otherwise. In that situation, my blessing could have gotten you out, but the simplest, most straightforward way to do so would have been to break your friend's fingers."

"Important safety tip. Thanks, Egon."

That led us into an entire discussion on the Ghostbusters. Not a super easy task without letting you know who know about you know what.

I'm guessing my god given gifts don't work on sticky situations I really don't want out of, either.