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Here is a bar. At it is a girl, late teens - ? - dressed in wide bands of black silk tied ragged edge to ragged edge in a neat pattern. There's a small owl on her shoulder and a stack of napkins at her elbow and she's nursing a cup of something steaming and spicy.
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make_opportunity
"I was hoping you could cut it down to less than a decade. But yeah, as long as I turn up immortal after, that's an important time management skill is 'be immortal'."
The orange of Bob's eyes flickers almost blue for a split-second, and despite not having a mouth, he grins nevertheless. "We can do this."
Some weeks pass, as they are wont to do. Bob continues to work with Bella in Harry's basement, as May turns to June, Harry starts getting out of bed most days again, and David continues to attempt to get his human half to sleep with him.
One Friday, a knock comes on the door. Faint voices mumble into the basement, mostly inaudible, except for the sound of a girl giggling with the airy delight that comes of recognizing the existence of a cat.
Bob looks up from a rune, chattering his teeth excitedly. "Oh, Ivy's here! Carry me up, I want to visit!"
A girl, looking about ten based on her size and pigtails, currently has her face buried in Mister the Cat's fluff. Mister himself appears to have grimly accepted this fate.
A disconcertingly average-looking man sits on the couch, currently holding none of the several guns which are obviously on his person, nor any of the innumerable guns not obviously on his person. Beside him sits Harry, who looks relatively comfortable despite his proximity to that much live firepower. On a nearby ottoman sits David, who looks like he is physically restraining himself from clapping his hands with glee.
"Hey! Tiny! Evil Uncle Bob's here to corrupt you!"
The girl releases Mister, giggles some more, and waves to Bob. "You are not currently evil, as far as I can tell! For one thing you have just called me 'Tiny,' which is a distinctive verbal characteristic of your normal self."
"Fine, you got me. Still gonna corrupt you, though!"
"I contain the entire recorded contents of the Internet, Bob."
A disconcertingly average-looking man sits on the couch, currently holding none of the several guns which are obviously on his person, nor any of the innumerable guns not obviously on his person. Beside him sits Harry, who looks relatively comfortable despite his proximity to that much live firepower. On a nearby ottoman sits David, who looks like he is physically restraining himself from clapping his hands with glee.
"Hey! Tiny! Evil Uncle Bob's here to corrupt you!"
The girl releases Mister, giggles some more, and waves to Bob. "You are not currently evil, as far as I can tell! For one thing you have just called me 'Tiny,' which is a distinctive verbal characteristic of your normal self."
"Fine, you got me. Still gonna corrupt you, though!"
"I contain the entire recorded contents of the Internet, Bob."
make_opportunity
Oh.
Bella doesn't say anything. She looks for good places to put Bob down so she can go back in the basement and memorize her runes.
Bella doesn't say anything. She looks for good places to put Bob down so she can go back in the basement and memorize her runes.
Ivy kisses Bob on the forehead(?) and turns to Bella. "Hello! We have not been introduced!" She curtsies, which would probably be more effective if she were wearing a skirt instead of what looks to be a tailored pantsuit. "I'm Ivy! What do you go by?"
"Bella..." She mulls the name over. "Italian and Latin roots, derived from Bella, beautiful, sometimes connected to Belladonna, deadly nightshade, also beautiful in some ways. I like your name! Latin names are lots of fun."
She giggles. "Yep! Harry came up with it. It's a talent of his. Which is honestly a little bit scary if you think about it, a talent for naming, but a lot of things are a little bit scary if you think about them. I mean, I'm a little scary if you think about me. I mostly don't."
She spins around in a circle repeatedly for a few seconds. Guns Man places a hand on her head, causing her to spin to a stop. "Dangit."
She spins around in a circle repeatedly for a few seconds. Guns Man places a hand on her head, causing her to spin to a stop. "Dangit."
"Waaaaaaait a minute."
She peers at Bella, appears to do some mental math, and says, "White Council of Wizards, registry for year 1992, potential wizard applicant Isabella Swan daughter of Charlie Swan and Renee Swan née Higgenbotham placed with... and then I got that letter... and medical records show height and weight percentile and growth consistent with..."
She claps her hands to her face gleefully. "Oh my gosh!"
"You wrote me a letter! I mean- it wasn't a very nice letter, no, but it was - my mom died, and I was blowing out my candles and suddenly a bomb exploded in my head and I didn't have any idea who I was, and then I got a letter! It showed up in my head and it was addressed to me and it wasn't about Othello or Duke Ortega or Fanny Hill, it was about me, you were talking to me! It was... something I could really make my own. I was in this weird monastery, you know, training, to be an impartial observer, and it was all about nullification of the self, but, you know, I was four, I didn't want to make peace with the void, and I just thought, 'yeah, nothing is real, but- somebody wrote me a letter. Somebody thought I had to hear what she had to say.' And I- it was a really nice thought." She pauses. "I never got many letters."
"We're not really... supposed to be the kind of entity you get in touch with. On any level but 'Archive, by Clause 182-CX, we invoke that you oversee a duel by blade in the courtyard of Neuschwanstein tomorrow at 4:30 PM.'" (She assumes a deep voice for this order, with her fingers making little fangs at the sides of her mouth.) "Nobody wants to know how I feel. Or even talk to me like I'm a person. I mean, except Harry, but he's... Harry." She shrugs.
make_opportunity
"Whereas my entire complaint was that you were a person. Okay, I could see how that could be a refreshing change of pace."
"Yep! Also, not many people have historically bothered to get mad at us. Or at least they haven't written it down."
She nods thoughtfully. "Well, I'm glad you did. Also, you'll probably be happy to hear that I'm not planning to reproduce!"
fortheliving
Harry chokes on his water, which he has been drinking since he choked on his coffee several seconds ago during Ivy's previous monologue. "W-what?!"
"She was very clear in the letter that I 'should probably not reproduce, as while it is not your fault that you were born and have therefore read my diary and all of the other private writing ever, it will be your fault if you make it continue to be a thing that happens,' which I see as a fair point." She shrugs. "Plus, I'm pretty sure I'm not going to like boys anyway, so it'd get pretty weird. How do you select for the sperm that will make the omniscient sorceress-arbitrator of the next generation? A contest or something?"
make_opportunity
Bella makes a small surprised sporfling sound into her hand. "Yes, I am happy to hear that. This is so much less awkward than I had imagined it would be."