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"Yes," agrees sleeping Bell. "Boots brightness pencil."

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Sherlock laughs softly.

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Bell continues babbling at a more or less steady rate throughout the time she spends sleeping.

Uninterrupted, this will amount to an hourlong nap.
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Sherlock would not dream of interrupting.

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Halfway through pronouncing "incandescent", Bell yawns awake. "Hallo there," she says, presenting Sherlock with a kiss.

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"Are you aware that you speak nonsense in your sleep?"

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"...Huh? Nonsense? What kind of nonsense?"

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"Completely arbitrary words without any syntactic structure."

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"Oh. That's weird. I wasn't even narrating my dream? In my dream I had a daemon like Isabella's except mine was a dragon and, for some reason, named Sponge."

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"No dragons, daemons, or sponges were featured."

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"How strange. I wonder why I do that. And how the words are chosen."

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"I have no idea," says Sherlock.

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"It just occurred to me that I forgot to add a section in the Belltower guestbook about the power a lot of us seem to have in common, which I don't have - the immunity to psychic stuff. I'm not even sure if Isabella has that," frowns Bell. "I should go add that as long as I'm here. And buy the bra." She stretches and sits up; a tendril of white hair falls in front of her face and she frowns at it and brushes it aside before wadding up all her dyed tresses and sticking her stick through them as usual. "Then home? Or is there anything else we should do here?"

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"No—home, I think."

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Bell nods and goes up to the Belltower. Sherlock can accompany her or not, as she likes.

In it, she finds a box that turns out to contain several dozen unicorns, tied up with a pretty ribbon and addressed to Shell Bell. She grins.

She also finds the guestbook right where she left it. No new entries yet, but she adds to the template at the front and then to her own, so the full thing now reads:

BELL SWAN
"Shell Bell"
Human
Pearl Beach, District Four, Panem, Earth; world "Atlantis" (not worth this name yet but I'm going to fix that)
September 13, y53 (Panem years; help matching to standard calendar appreciated)
Ranae Swan (née Haien), Sharles "Shark" Swan
No siblings
Grew up in District 4, found Milliways age 6 and 1-2 times/yr thereafter, traded seashells for adequate nutrition and read books, faked slightly touched in the head to get away with keeping clamshells near all doors. Began work on clam boat age 8. Age 13, began being recognized as various alts and trading advice as an alt of assorted empresses for stuff. Age 16, selected in lottery for the Hunger Games (coercive gladiatorial combat of teenagers in subject Districts under totalitarian Capitol) but was replaced by a trained volunteer (she died). Age 18 (by calendar, some uncounted difference subjective), encountered Sherlock and Tony Stark in Milliways, decided to overthrow the government, faked my death by 'running away to Atlantis' for parents, stowed away on train to move in with the Starks, and later met Isabella Amariah (next entry) in Milliways and founded Belltower.
Sherlock and Tony, aforementioned; Matilda, who has contagious magic and is nice about trying to infect people with it
Sherlock is my girlfriend
Any person from the Capitol of Panem can be considered my enemy, but Isabella Amariah is going to help me with the most pressing one
I have a stick that does fire and some other small magical artifacts (generator, cornucopia, water-purifying-and-generating unicorn figurine, minor protection amulet)
I do not have the mental opacity property in any form
Overthrowing the Capitol
Any resources, particularly magical or high-tech things the Capitol cannot expect/match, are highly appreciated
That's pretty much it

And then she tears out the last page of the book - it has spiral binding and the paper comes out clean - and writes a note to Isabella on it, notifying her of the change.
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Sherlock awaits her downstairs.

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Shell Bell comes down with the box of unicorns, discreetly solicits the selected bra from Bar, and links elbows with Sherlock on their way out.

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"Aww, you got a present!"

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"Yeah, Matilda left us a bunch of extra unicorns," says Shell Bell. (The box now also contains the bra.) "Also, reportedly, I talk in my sleep."

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"Well, that's adorable. Love the hair, too."

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"Really? I hate it, but," she shrugs, "must blend in by looking as ridiculous as possible. On the day of it will also be curled and under a stupid hat." She transferred her Capitolish clothes to the box too and some ruffles are poking out. She produces the hat and holds it up.

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"It's ridiculous, but it's a cute ridic—oh my god that hat."

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"I know, right? It's a tweaked version of what the District Four escort wore this year. More lace, less other crap, different colors. The dress is worse." She pulls it out.

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"...When you take over the world," Tony announces, "I am going to call you the Empress of Ruffles and no one can stop me."

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"I regret showing you this thing," groans Bell. "See if I grant you an imperial title, so there."

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