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The following morning, Bell hears what sounds like a fire alarm. It's not in their building - it's at least a block away. From her window, she can clearly see the house that's caught, near the train station, and just as clearly see that there isn't any bucket brigade handling it yet.
She seizes her wand from the nightstand and assumes control over the fire; if there's anyone in the unburnt part of the house they'll be able to get out. "SHERLOCK! TONY!" she calls.
Bell wants a second opinion before she snakes this fire down the corner of the house and over the grass to destroy the train station.
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she_sells_seashells
dark_light
"That'd be really cool, although I don't know how often I can expect to be spending time there. I'm more likely to have Shell Bell's rare visits than Jarvis's perfect door-opening control."
dark_light
Isabella raises an eyebrow. "Yes. My failure to be a house is exactly why I am likely to resemble Shell Bell in any given respect."
poeticterms
"My ability to summon Milliways is a statistical rarity," says Jarvis, "especially since, of course, I have never been there myself. The fact that I am a house is the most obvious explanation."
dark_light
"I understand. It just sounded like Shell Bell finds doors less often than most non-houses, even."
toblameforit
"I'm not sure door habits correlate across alts that well," says Tony. "Other Tony can summon it and I totally can't."
dark_light
"Oh. Huh. Good to know," says Isabella, peering at the pretty lights.
poeticterms
The pretty lights form a row of tiny geometric ballerinas and do a pretty little dance, angular skirts rippling.
she_sells_seashells
Meanwhile, in Milliways, Shell Bell bites down the urge to ask Matilda how they're coming along. Again. Matilda said she'd tell them if she saw any sticking, it could take days...
Matilda is fiddling with some kind of diagram on her laptop, but she does look up at her floaty people every so often.
On one such occasion, she blinks, then lowers Tony to the floor.
"You've got magic now, but not enough to do you any good," she says. "Sorry."
On one such occasion, she blinks, then lowers Tony to the floor.
"You've got magic now, but not enough to do you any good," she says. "Sorry."
she_sells_seashells
"Rats," says Bell.
There's still hope for her and Sherlock. There's still hope for her and Sherlock. There's...
There's still hope for her and Sherlock. There's still hope for her and Sherlock. There's...
Time passes.
"On the bright side," says Matilda, "I'm starting to figure out cornucopias. On the not so bright..." Shell Bell descends floorward. "You're not going to be casting any spells, I'm afraid."
"On the bright side," says Matilda, "I'm starting to figure out cornucopias. On the not so bright..." Shell Bell descends floorward. "You're not going to be casting any spells, I'm afraid."
she_sells_seashells
This rates a:
"Shit."
Bell kicks the floor.
She stares into space, somewhere near Sherlock's shoulder.
"Shit."
Bell kicks the floor.
She stares into space, somewhere near Sherlock's shoulder.
she_sells_seashells
Bell hugs back hard. "Luck," she says ruefully. "Heh. May the odds be ever in your favor."
she_sells_seashells
"This was a really good one, though, and it took me so long to find it. I've probably spent almost a year solid here, all told, by now. And what I have to show for it is a stick and two amulets and contagious magic that doesn't like me."
she_sells_seashells
"And a witch alt who will assassinate Snow for us," Bell amends. "She's useful. She's very useful but I don't think she can win an entire war for us."
sicaria
"Perhaps we will find things that are not directly magical but are nevertheless of some use."
she_sells_seashells
"Like other-Tony's tech? Yeah. I guess that will help," sighs Bell. "I just... really... wanted... magic. Like every single other me I've ever heard of who I get mistaken for who ever accomplished anything. I wanted magic."
