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"Yes," she says. "If you'd like, I could point you at some people who I'm sure would love to have any lingering effects of Chelsa removed - two Jokers, Harley and Corona."

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"Okay. Maybe Papa knows where they are." [Papa?]

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[Yes?]

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[Me and Keziah have this ingot power and we can get gooky magic off people and there's this lady who won't let us take it off her, but she says Harley and Corona are other Jokers who might, do you know where they are and if they want us to ungook them?]

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[What kind of gook do you suppose Harley and Corona—? Never mind, I think I know,] he says. [I will find them and ask them.]

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[Okay, thanks!]

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A very short while later, he says, [They are sitting outside together and would be happy to see what you can do about their gook.]
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[Thanks, Papa!]

"Can you teleport?" Céleste asks her alt, and when Keziah shakes her head, she does it herself, and there they are.

"We are here to ungook you. There isn't nearly as much of it on you, though."
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Harley and Corona are sitting side by side on the platform that rings the space plant, tucked up against the outer wall of the main room. Corona has his arm around Harley's shoulders and Harley is leaning into him comfortably.

"Yeah," says Harley, "probably 'cause Elsie got most of it."
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"Well, she didn't get it all. It's - it's like -"

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"It's like if someone burned down a forest and salted the earth and then put a bunch of fake trees, and then someone took away the fake trees," says Céleste. "I think we can get the salt, too."

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"...yeah," says Harley, "that would be awesome, do that."

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"Okay," says Céleste, and she and Keziah put their hands on Harley's head, and unsalt him.

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He shivers;

he beams;

he vanishes.



Corona laughs. "I bet he's off to hug his wolf," he says. "Chelsa doused him from everybody. He's got most of it back - it's easy to get Jokers to like people, hard to get them to stop - but I guess not all."
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"We can do you too."

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"...Yeah," says Corona, folding his hands in his lap and looking down at them, "that'd probably be... good."

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"Are you okay? Do you want another of Dad here when we do it?"

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Corona shrugs. "I'll be fine," he says. "I'll go find the rest of us after, it's not like there's a shortage."

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"It's true. There are quite a lot."

She reaches for his head.

They do their magic.
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For a moment there is no visible effect; he breathes out calmly, looking a little distant.

And then he pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them and drops his head into the space thereby created and cries.
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"A-are you okay?"

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"I'm—fine," he sniffles, shivering. "Just—there were so many..."

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"So many what?"

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Too much crying. Cannot answer.

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Keziah hugs him, fluffing one wing around his back.

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