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"...Tony's parents," says Cam, raising an eyebrow at this extremely Tony-resembling person.

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"Ah, of course, I have failed to introduce myself. Sherlock Holmes, clone publicly masquerading as twin. Would you like that story too, while we're here?"

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"...Sure, can't hurt. This world is disturbingly similar to mine as far as Wikipedia's concerned for having AIs and vampires and clones, oh my."

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"One AI and one clone, to my knowledge," he corrects. "Both byproducts of Tony's intensely lonely childhood. He cooked me up when he was twelve, I caught up to his development when he was fourteen, and in between he had very little idea of what to do with me and consequently ignored me as much as possible. So I grew up on literature and Jarvis and acquired a name from the former since the latter was at a loss on the subject."

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"And now here you are. Okay then. Do you have a use for demonic help with the assassin? Tony already summoned a fairy, so you can maybe retrieve him with added snazzy magic powers if all else fails if it works like that, but this being a brave new world that has such people in't I'm not sure I can vouch very confidently."

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"Ha," he says. "Yes, I'll be wanting to do one of those myself before too much longer. Do you care to provide cookies?"

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"Sure, you want to do that now?"

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"May as well. To the basement we go."

He heads down the hall in full expectation that the elevator will be waiting for him when he gets there. It is.
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Cam follows along and makes a box of assorted cookies.

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"Charming talent you have there."

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"I like it."

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"I can see why you might."

And basement!

"D'you suppose it's worth re-summoning the same fellow from earlier?"
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"May as well," shrugs Cam, "he seemed nice enough." He makes a sheet of paper that will aim for that specific fairy. "You got a comprehensive summary of events, huh?"

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"Yes. You may assume I have heard about anything that passed between you and Tony, if not necessarily in full detail."

He locates a writing instrument, takes the sheet of paper, and begins copying the diagram onto a clean patch of floor.
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"Noted. Unrelatedly, what's your opinion on how likely I am to get shot at or summon a SWAT team or whatever if I go flying around at night?"

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"Hmm. I could offer decent advice if you were going to be wandering on the ground - take a laser pointer, is the main thing - but I lack the relevant experience in the air," he says thoughtfully as he works. "Perhaps you'd be fine. Perhaps you'd attract hostile attention of some kind. Can't be sure until you try it."

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"I'm indestructible versus conventional forms of destruction but I don't know how that will hold against, say, weird offworld magic."

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"In that case, I recommend flight only as a last-resort escape from terrestrial perils. But I'm told I can be excessively paranoid."

Circle complete!
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"Man, that's gonna get claustrophobic. Oh well."

Here is that one fairy! "Hi again! You want me to take more cookies off your hands?"

Cam smirks and hands over the cookies.

"Awesome," says the fairy, batting his wings.
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"Enjoy!" says—the summoner.

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"Hey, anytime," says the fairy. "You know how to find me."

Cam snorts.
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"Yup," says the person who was certainly Sherlock a minute ago.

And the unsummoning should be taking hold right about - now.
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Poof goes the fairy with his cookies.

"Just for your personal amusement?" hazards Cam.
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Sherlock resumes being Sherlock. The difference is very noticeable, even when he's just standing still - for one thing, he stands still, no fidgeting, posture impeccable.

"That and I didn't feel like taking the time to explain."
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"Fair enough. So, now, you too may possibly if it works that way become a daeva one day."

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