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She wonders if Coin would be late to fewer things if she gave her a teleportation power.
She's saying so, to Sherlock.
And then instead of the ruins of flooded Europe she's in a featureless white room facing some grumpy person in a blue robe, wearing everything she was wearing, less her coin bandolier but including her crown, and something's wrong, her thoughts are slow and won't speed up, her memory's as slippery as it ever was before she met Stella, and how did she get here, why doesn't the brainphone work, where's Sherlock?
Where are her coins? Where's her magic? She can't teleport either, not even across the room - she bites her lip just a little and she can't even remember how moving pain left to right is a thing and it goes right on stinging without regenerating -
Where is she?
arenaria
She shakes her head.
"You'll see most of them eventually," she offers. "You have the rest of eternity to look forward to."
"You'll see most of them eventually," she offers. "You have the rest of eternity to look forward to."
arenaria
"No, they're going to live forever, like I was, as soon as they find out what happened to me they'll patch the hole and it'll never happen again," Shell Bell says, burying her hands in her hair. "Sherlock still has magic, she won't let Tony die, she wouldn't let herself die while he's alive to miss her, she'll take care of my parents - if what you're saying is true I'm never going to see them again. My Sherlock."
arenaria
"How do you know what you know - that there's no communication, that I'm stuck? How is this known?"
"The administration."
Looking slightly worried now, she comes out from behind her desk.
"Could you come with me, please? I need to show you how to find your residence."
Looking slightly worried now, she comes out from behind her desk.
"Could you come with me, please? I need to show you how to find your residence."
arenaria
Shell Bell follows her, but she doesn't stop asking questions. "Who's the administration? How do they set rules? Why is my magic gone? What is this folder for?"
"I don't know anything about your magic," she says. "The administration built this place. The folder contains your residence code - you'll want to memorize that number - and sentencing information."
They enter an elevator. It has three buttons. The woman in the fuzzy pink sweater pushes the bottom one. The doors close. The elevator descends.
They enter an elevator. It has three buttons. The woman in the fuzzy pink sweater pushes the bottom one. The doors close. The elevator descends.
arenaria
"Sentencing? And who is the administration? Do you mean they built the building or the entire afterlife?"
She opens her folder.
She opens her folder.
"The entire afterlife," she says. "Asking about the administration isn't going to get you much of anywhere."
The first page of the small sheaf of papers inside has only four lines on it:
BELL SWAN
98066714331^1
DIANA 1:12
9:00 CH
All the following pages are densely packed with an inscrutable code involving a lot of numbers and punctuation.
The first page of the small sheaf of papers inside has only four lines on it:
BELL SWAN
98066714331^1
DIANA 1:12
9:00 CH
All the following pages are densely packed with an inscrutable code involving a lot of numbers and punctuation.
arenaria
Well, it's clearly not going to get her anywhere with this person. "Can you tell me what this means?" Bell asks, showing the lady the first page of her file.
"That's your name and residence code, your judge, how far into her shift she was when she got to you, and your sentence," she explains. "...Oh. My. Um, here, you'll be wanting this."
She fishes in a pocket and produces a stack of identical business cards, off which she hands Bell the top one. It bears a logo consisting of a thin crescent with the words FOR YOU inscribed between its downward-facing points, and a number: 9246938^0.
She fishes in a pocket and produces a stack of identical business cards, off which she hands Bell the top one. It bears a logo consisting of a thin crescent with the words FOR YOU inscribed between its downward-facing points, and a number: 9246938^0.
arenaria
"Why will I be wanting this? My sentence for what? My sentence to what?" Bell asks, taking the card.
"Your sentence for everything bad you've ever done in your life," she says. "But if you visit the Crescent—that's the res code on the card—I'm sure you'll find someone to take it for you."
"Nine hours," she says. "With Chainsaw. He's a torturer. ...I'm sure you'll find someone to take it at the Crescent."
arenaria
"Okay. I am pretty sure this is unfair. Who's Diana - I mean, she's my judge, but - where did she come from, where do judges come from?"
arenaria
"I mean, I am here because I died. Are you here because you died? Is Diana? How did you get your job? How did she? What about the torturers and contractors?"
"Everyone is here because they died," she says. "I got my job by applying at the Tower. So did Diana, but the requirements for judges are much stricter and I'm sure she had to wait a few centuries for her interview. Torturers are trained and certified at the Cross in caret null, and the Crescent has their own academy but it's not necessary to be certified as a contractor before taking someone's sentence. It's just easier for the sentenced and the volunteers to find each other that way."