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Isabella doesn't really want to own as many things as a human. She likes the simple wardrobe, the one glorious vehicle that carries her under the stars, the rental house. Hair can do without shampoo as long as it's not accustomed to the stuff; no one really needs to own a copy of Monopoly; she sleeps comfortably in a hammock instead of having to come up with the hundreds of dollars for a mattress (let alone a frame).
She sometimes wishes she had her own computer.
She has a phone, which Charlie insists she carry with her, so that's all right and no one's going to call her unwitchly for indulging a beloved mortal. It will do simple web browsing. When she wants to do less simple web browsing, she goes to the library.
So here she is, in the Rockland Public Library, looking up alethiometers.
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dark_light
dark_light
"Okay," laughs Isabella, "but can you tell me anything about what that means besides the tautology that the set-apart-specified-thing is reliably the set-apart-specified-thing?"
truthwright
"Not really," Kas says cheerfully. "But if you wanna do finding-stuff-out magic at me about gender and then quiz me about what the hell it's trying to tell you, that might be fun."
dark_light
"Maybe." Isabella wills the firepit on and starts turning the turkey over it while it burns a complete absence of fuel. "I'm afraid it's not going to be able to get any more precise than that. Spells have a very small vocabulary."
dark_light
"So, are you just fundamentally unclear on why people being men or women is even a thing?" laughs Isabella.
truthwright
"...A little?" he says. "I mean, I can tell it is a thing. People have genders. They're all different, but a lot of them are a lot like each other. Mine's just extra weird. But I'm extra weird, so that's not huge news."
dark_light
"Huh. So you wouldn't say unequivocally that, say, me and Metis share a gender."
dark_light
"In what sense do we not? I mean, we're not only both female, we're also both witches. From the same clan, even."
Path flies over to peck Isabella on the back of her head. "Turn the turkey," he says. She resumes turning it.
Path flies over to peck Isabella on the back of her head. "Turn the turkey," he says. She resumes turning it.
truthwright
"Well, yeah," he says. "That's how you're the same. But I bet you don't both feel exactly the same way about it, and that's how you're different."
dark_light
"Huh. I'd ask Metis if she and I could look at each other in the circle and see what we get on that score, but I don't think it has enough fine detail to tell us anything but 'yep, female, witches'."
truthwright
"Another thing to ask the alethiometer about when you find one," he suggests.
dark_light
"That has fewer symbols," Isabella laughs. "It can turn it into an arbitrary number of meanings, but it's still not natural language. It's worth a try, though, sure."
truthwright
"Well, ask it about your gender and hers and see if it spits the same answer back twice."
dark_light
"That'd work. It does answer in complete sentences -insofar as symbolic meanings with no grammar form sentences." Turn, turn, turn, won't do to cook only half the bird.
dark_light
At length, bird is ready, and Isabella carves and serves and pours everyone a dish of the leftover vinegar and sage to dip their bites in.
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