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She wonders if Coin would be late to fewer things if she gave her a teleportation power.
She's saying so, to Sherlock.
And then instead of the ruins of flooded Europe she's in a featureless white room facing some grumpy person in a blue robe, wearing everything she was wearing, less her coin bandolier but including her crown, and something's wrong, her thoughts are slow and won't speed up, her memory's as slippery as it ever was before she met Stella, and how did she get here, why doesn't the brainphone work, where's Sherlock?
Where are her coins? Where's her magic? She can't teleport either, not even across the room - she bites her lip just a little and she can't even remember how moving pain left to right is a thing and it goes right on stinging without regenerating -
Where is she?
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arenaria
"...I'm friendly," she says. "People at the Crescent are friendly, more or less. Librarians are friendly. Anyone else you meet might not be."
"Violence, usually."
arenaria
Shell Bell has never particularly pretended to herself that she's unselfish.
And she does not try to do it now as she suddenly, intently wishes that Sherlock were here with her. She needs her. Tony could do without, she's met a Tony without, Tony would be miserable but he'd go on, and Bell needs her.
She's wishing her girlfriend dead, and she hates that she's doing it and she's glad that wishing doesn't make it so anymore, but everything would be easier if Sherlock were here.
"What are the best ways to avoid that?"
And she does not try to do it now as she suddenly, intently wishes that Sherlock were here with her. She needs her. Tony could do without, she's met a Tony without, Tony would be miserable but he'd go on, and Bell needs her.
She's wishing her girlfriend dead, and she hates that she's doing it and she's glad that wishing doesn't make it so anymore, but everything would be easier if Sherlock were here.
"What are the best ways to avoid that?"
She shrugs. "I'm sorry, I don't really know."
They exit the station by Bell's house and emerge onto the street. It's nighttime, and the sky is featurelessly black except for a distant glow over one horizon; the only illumination at ground level comes from streetlights, and there are no clouds to reflect them.
They exit the station by Bell's house and emerge onto the street. It's nighttime, and the sky is featurelessly black except for a distant glow over one horizon; the only illumination at ground level comes from streetlights, and there are no clouds to reflect them.
"It's different above the cliffs."
She points at the glow on the horizon.
"Those cliffs. You can see them much better from the library or the Crescent; big landmarks tend to be closer in. See the dark vertical line in the middle? That's the tower, where we started out."
"Those cliffs. You can see them much better from the library or the Crescent; big landmarks tend to be closer in. See the dark vertical line in the middle? That's the tower, where we started out."
arenaria
"And you live up there and it's less - violent? How do you come to live up there?"
"You don't 'live'," she corrects gently. "And you don't come to belong up there. You're either sent there first thing or you're not."
arenaria
"I had an argument with a vampire once about whether he was alive," Bell says. It's hard to remember. She's gotten so used to things being easy to remember, and before that she was used to having them recorded if she needed them, and before that she had nothing important to remember. "He walked and talked and thought. I thought that was enough to count even though something that looked a lot like death had happened to him. I walk and talk and think now."
Something occurs to her. "Would it be," she says, "if violence is such a commonplace - a bad idea to wear the crown?"
Something occurs to her. "Would it be," she says, "if violence is such a commonplace - a bad idea to wear the crown?"
She glances at the crown as she leads Bell along the street.
"If you want to keep it, yes."
"If you want to keep it, yes."
arenaria
"I -"
Bell has to think about whether she wants to keep it. She takes it off, looks at it.
"Will it be safe if I leave it at home?"
Bell has to think about whether she wants to keep it. She takes it off, looks at it.
"Will it be safe if I leave it at home?"
"Probably," she shrugs. "Safer than it'll be on your head."
"Oh, is that what the crown is for?" she asks politely. "Here's your building, let me see..."
The apartment building has a screen and keypad on the wall in the little pre-lobby area inside the front door; when the guide enters Bell's residence code, she receives a happy little green light and a floor number (four), and the door into the lobby opens.
The apartment building has a screen and keypad on the wall in the little pre-lobby area inside the front door; when the guide enters Bell's residence code, she receives a happy little green light and a floor number (four), and the door into the lobby opens.
arenaria
"Yes. My world was - badly managed. I fixed it. I made myself a crown. It seemed like the thing to do." She frowns, still looking at the crown in her hands. "...I think the president of the somewhat-better-managed part of the world that I had not included in said empire took exception and assassinated me."
"These things happen," she says philosophically. "I'm sorry. You sound like a good person."
Yet another elevator, this one wholly unmagical, brings them to the appropriate floor. The individual apartments have wildly mismatched numbers on their doors, listed on helpful signs pointing each direction along the hall; the guide finds Bell's and opens it.
Yet another elevator, this one wholly unmagical, brings them to the appropriate floor. The individual apartments have wildly mismatched numbers on their doors, listed on helpful signs pointing each direction along the hall; the guide finds Bell's and opens it.
arenaria
"I try. How are these places assigned?" Bell asks, looking around, assessing, seeking a place to tuck away her crown.
"Mostly at random. You can move to an empty place, or swap residences with someone else, if you're authorized for a place that size; how much space you start out with depends on how much you're mourned, but it's possible to transfer space between accounts, or merge if you want to move in with someone."
arenaria
"...Does it look to you like I have been mourned much? I don't have a scale for this, I don't know if I should be assuming that Tony didn't like me all that much after all or that Sherlock shut down completely instead of feeling anything... poor Sherlock, my Sherlock - Do people who aren't from my world count, assuming they find out about my death? Do I have to be mourned on a personal level or should I be learning things about how good an empress I was for people who never met me?"
"I don't know how people who aren't from your world would find out..."
She steps inside and looks around.
"...Are you sure your girlfriend wouldn't let herself die?"
She steps inside and looks around.
"...Are you sure your girlfriend wouldn't let herself die?"
arenaria
"I - not absolutely certain. I don't think she'd leave Tony alone. But it's not impossible that I'm wrong, or that Coin killed her too even though she wouldn't know she'd need to and there'd be fallout all over a populated area and Sherlock would most likely have noticed a nuke in Three or the palace. Then - then Tony would probably have died as well, they were both in the house - we'd all be here - Can I find out? If I go back to the Tower and look for them, or is there a book of names - if she's here then - why do you ask? Does this place look - suggestive of that?" Shell Bell glances around the nice, well-designed furniture, the pretty rugs and the wallpaper. It doesn't exactly scream Sherlock is dead to her, but she's not an expert. She goes up to the bed - everything but the bathroom's squished into one room, kitchenette and bed and empty bookshelf and dresser, but it's arranged to allow walking paths between everything. She puts her crown in the drawer of the nightstand and sits on the bedspread.
"You can't find out who's in the queue," she says. "But there's a complete directory of Downsiders in the library, and you can search by name and time of death, and narrow results by universe of origin... you can probably find her if she's already here." She gestures around at the tiny, beautiful apartment. "This kind of thing, a very small place with very nice decor, usually means you weren't mourned very much but you were mourned very intensely. I usually don't see cases this extreme, but when I do, the mourner tends to show up as a suicide."