Finding a need

The trip home is equally pleasant, but I have a hard time enjoying it knowing my failures. It still gets my motor running so to speak, but with the cloud over my mood, that feels more like an annoyance than an imperative. We walk invisibly into my apartment, close the door behind us, and she drops her illusion, while I add one to myself to ease interactions as I put my ring back on.

I sit down on my couch, and Gertie joins me. “We couldn't save them all.” Ugh, my voice is annoying. I sound like a whiney porn star.

“No, we can't. No one person, however powerful, can save everyone…” the angel takes a breath, “...which is a hard lesson to accept. Still… there are three sets of parents who will have their children back, two hundred and sixty eight that are fully freed from life threatening illnesses, and seven who will at least get no worse going forward. It is important to learn from your losses, yes, but do not lose sight of your victories.”

“You mean YOUR victories,” I answer bitterly, “I did almost nothing.”

“Hmm…” the angel by my side considers, “Where did I come from?”

“Adam's rings,” I shrug.

“Why does he have them?” The angel presses.

“Because I…” that stops me. “Because I gave him the power to make them.”

“There you go,” Gertie nods, “I wouldn't exist were you not involved. You are giving me credit for my portion of the work, and rightly so. You may not have had as direct of a hand as you would like, but do not minimize your own contribution: What I did would not have been possible without your actions.” She smiles, “You're a good child. There are some harsh lessons you still need to learn. But your heart is good. Please keep that.”

“Pretty tarnished,” I shake my head, “I can't stop thinking about…” ugh.

The angel seems to have a bead on my impure thoughts, “My holding you in my naked bosom, caressing your body, eating you out, sticking my fingers in your holes, maybe me turning into a male and breeding you, that kind of thing?”

I can only swallow in response, and she continues, “Keep in mind, I'm from ADAM'S mind, and an adult of any species naturally has some desire to breed: It's the only way the species continues, there's nothing wrong with the desire itself: ‘Wrong’ comes from how you try to carry it out, who you choose to try it with, and so on. Thinking that a man or woman is attractive is not a problem, wanting to bed them inappropriately is. As for what's appropriate…” she looks deeply into my eyes, “...remember, I come from Adam.”

“...and he's a horndog,” I get it, I think, “probably enjoys girl-on-girl action and sees nothing wrong with relationships with significant power imbalance.”

“I inherited those, yes,” the angel chuckles.

“Hmm…” I consider, “...except you're a Simulacrum operating under orders: You literally can't tell me no when I tell you to do something, and that bothers me… so I'm never going to come onto you: Like hitting on your waitress, it's simply not ‘fair’.”

She pauses, and nods slowly, “I can respect that, I suppose.”

“Good,” I cringe, “...and I need to empty my milk jugs… my chest is aching.”

The fake angel nods, as I get up and head to my bathroom. Once there, I lock the door, climb into the tub, start rubbing my chest, and figure out how to hand pump. I hear moaning very quickly as I heat up... oh, that's me. Well…at least as far as chores go, this one is very pleasant. I'm screaming out my joy four times before I have all my tanks drained.

That done, I take a shower out of habit: I have a spell keeping me clean, but… well, I just got coated in milk and juices from anatomy I'm not supposed to have.

Drying off with a towel, trying to figure out how to get my hair dry, I walk into my living room, and spy a pair of scissors. I smile: At least I can do something about the hair. Pick up, snip, snip, snip, and I have four feet of load off my mind and in my hand. I roll it up into a bun, toss it in the trash, and sit down on my couch to TV surf. Flipping through the channels, I find my recent activities haven't made the news. Surprised, I check online… despite having the names of the formerly dead kids, all I can find in the standard search engines is a bunch of different folks decrying the reports as garbage rumor mongering: I can't even find the original videos and posts that the decryers reference… although some clips and quotes from the originals make it in.

Weird.

When I get up, I feel my hair brushing my backside, frown, and trace it out with my hand… all the way down to my ankles. Frowning more, I get the scissors, cut it again, go to the trash… and see the hair I cut the first time. Shrugging I toss the newly cut hair into the trash, and look into things a bit more. Eventually, I find a few posts complaining about how their account was banned on another platform just for saying their daughter was healed… and when I click quote on the post to reply, the quote block is empty with a red ‘TOS violation’ note from a moderator account. I hit back, refresh the page, and find the original posting account is in ‘Banned’ status, the original post edited to nothing.

Okay… that's some pretty heavy-handed censorship going on… which is kind of scary in the land of the free.

I scootch my chair back, stand up, and feel a pulling on my scalp. Tracing with my hand, I find my hair is caught under the chair legs. I untangle it, and find… it's down to my ankles again. I walk over to where I left the scissors, and just stare at them. I walk over to the trash, and note that, yes, my hair faded into existence after I cut it, and the trash can is quite full of my ebony locks. I consider that for a bit… ah, I get it: My hair counts as part of me for my Waxen Regeneration, and every time I cut it off, it grows

[back.

So](http://back.So) I need to get it styled to get it out of the way, because cutting just won't work… what's it called… I do some research online: Ah, an ‘updo’. Okay… I look up instructions… ugh, I don't have any bobby pins, because I'm not a girl. Or, well, wasn't until recently? I'm not sure now… regardless… I end up using a couple of pens I have lying around in lieu of bobby pins, and manage a “Volume boosted messy bun” from a guide online. I can't really tell how well it turned out… but it's up and out of the way, which is the real point.

I then consider… “Okay, so… I need money. I have a few weeks… but that's it. I can bum off of Adam… but I'll feel better with an actual job. What can I do that won't get in the way of earning experience…” I pause, then smile, “extermination services, maybe? Maybe a slaughterhouse would be better: An infinite procession of low value kills…. hmm. Oh, I need to re-select my Spheres talents… and it's not a temporary selection, so I can grab a tradition. If I go with Conjuration, I can get Elongated Summoning and Life Merger to grab Greater Summoning and Lingering Companion: A one minute spell for a twenty four hour Companion built to my specifications…

I get to work and design a stand-in for myself: A Biped with the Warrior archetype, trading the martial weapon proficiency for a martial tradition, which I use to get the creature armor and firearm proficiency, plus Ceaseless Ammo and Close Combat Specialist (so he doesn't need to worry about reloads or getting interrupted by a guy standing right next to him, respectively), having him take Capable Companion for a bonus feat, spending that and his base feat on Transformation and Shifting Disguise, so he can make a convincing me via shapeshifting. I also redo my prepared spells at the same time.

I then spend a minute to summon him.

He shows up carrying the two weapons I selected for him in holsters on his back: A rifle and a light machine gun. Yes, I have a disposable pocket soldier; if he's killed, I get him back the next day. He shows up otherwise nude… I QUICKLY look away, and start giving him his marching orders, pulling up an old picture of me on my phone (which requires I set it down…), “Please disguise yourself as this guy, name is Dan, then dress up…” I fetch some of my old clothes that have yet to be ruined.

Before long, I'm staring at a close facsimile… but I know my old face very well from the mirror, and have very good Perception, which means I can tell relatively easily where he went wrong. But that's okay - it's an at-will for him. With me to judge, he can take twenty setting this up. So we do. When we're done a few minutes later, I have a very accurate representation of myself in front of me… and I can have him fake being basically anybody the same way.

And when I'm done, my chest is feeling full again.

I empty my jugs, have Gertie connect me telepathically with my newest minion, and we go shopping. The target? Pumps. Also bags for the milk: I understand hospitals sometimes buy the stuff? With my minion all dressed up as me, we get in my car, and head to the local big box store (I drive, using an illusion of myself). Once there, I dismiss my illusion, and I look through their inventory, using my visible minion to handle doors and things. I find the right zone, and look at the selection of breast pumps… it makes me feel really weird that I need to, but… strange times.

I settle on a two hundred dollar wearable model, and start picking the lock on the display case, using picks from the Summon Tools spell (Frog God Games).

Gertie picks up on what I'm doing, ‘You hardly need to steal.’

‘I am actually very short on funds. If you're worried about the ethics…’ I pause, ‘...go hang out in the break room and listen to the supervisor talk to the staff for a few minutes. Don't smite anyone. I'll wait.’

True to my word, I set my tools aside and wait.

A few minutes later, I get a response on the telepathic channel, ‘Are you certain you do not wish me to smite anyone?’

I chuckle and get back to work, ‘As much as I dislike management here, I'm not so sure they deserve to be slaughtered. I don't really mind making them unprofitable, though.’

She pauses for a bit, ‘I can work with that,’ I somehow feel her grinning over the link, ‘meet you back at the car in, oh, five minutes?’

Huh. What have I done? Eh, whatever. I'm sure her target deserves it, I worked here for a little while. ‘Okay.’

I finish unlocking the cabinet and disabling the alarms, grab two pairs of wearable pumps, and toss them in my bag, enhanced by an Arcane Pocket spell so that they're not on this plane (which also means they don't set off the alarms). I head out with my direct conjured servant, and meet up with Gertie at the car. As we start to head home, curiosity gets the better of me, “So what did you do?”