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"She expects to succeed at things," Angela says, "when she really tries."

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"Of course she does," he says, smiling fondly. "But no one succeeds at all things."

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"Still, she expects that if she means to strongly enough she will manage, and she may assume that you expect the same of her, and so she could suppose that if she fails you'll believe she didn't really try."

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"Then I'll tell her differently."

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"There you are, then. Let's see. Where does she come from? I'm trying to imagine what sort of world hers is."

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"I think she said she was from the village of Les Fourches," he says.

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"...Well," says Angela. "That's cute, but it doesn't help me. The specific village almost certainly doesn't matter. I mean the world. The magic, the politics, the sorts of people who live there."

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"I've been trapped alone in a castle for a hundred and fifty years," he says. "I don't know much."

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"But, for example, you don't expect people to have wings. Things like that," says Angela, fluttering her feathers.

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"They're very pretty," he says. "But no. Of course, I don't expect people to have fur and fangs, either."

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"I was born with my wings," says Angela, "to a mother with wings; it's not any sort of magic."

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"Are there a lot of people with wings around?"

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"Not very many. Shy of a hundred and fifty. But we're generally known to exist."

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"I like your wings," he reiterates.

"How'd you magic my fur away, anyway?"
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One of Angela's wings goes around Micaiah, settling there comfortably. "One of us, nicknamed Stella, comes from a world with a form of magic that works by wishing. She's been able to share this magic with several others of us, including me. If I wish on a wishcoin -" She makes a little triangle, and shows it to him - "then what I wish for happens, as long as the wishcoin is the right kind. Triangles like this are for trivial little wishes. Turning you human took a pentagon."

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Micaiah snuggles up to her.

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"You're sweet," says Beast. "Do you have any more advice for me, or can I borrow your husband now?"

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"I think I'd have to meet her to get any more specific," says Angela. "Borrow away."

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He holds out his arms.

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Micaiah leaps into them.

A moment later, they both disappear, still cuddling.
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Angela goes up to the Belltower.

She has a rather significant entry to insert.
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A little while later, Micaiah appears, looking slightly rumpled and very pleased with himself.

"He woke up," he reports. "Or disappeared, anyway. What's new with the Bells?"
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"Apparently there is an afterlife and it has got to go," says Isabella. "I am also advised in the strongest possible terms not to ever turn into a Sunshine vampire. Juliet has been minted, with some mishap. Awful things have befallen Shell Bell but she has recovered. Coins can apparently be made with as many as nine points."

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"Nine," he says, and grins. "Imagine that."

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"I'm not sure I want to imagine that. But the Joker has made several and Stella wrote that she intended to see about her Alice and the staff mints."

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