This post's authors have general content warnings that might apply to the current post.
View Flat HTML
View Metadata
Search Post
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
arenaria
"Oh, yes. As of the last time I checked I think I was the only Bell who'd met all five of the others. I think Juliet's met more of you than I have, though. I can't remember exactly... but I think so. So it was never exactly group photo time. But it was fun."
finaldiscussion
It's a short conversation.
"Contract," he says succinctly when it ends. "I should go. Torturers are a notoriously impatient bunch."
"Contract," he says succinctly when it ends. "I should go. Torturers are a notoriously impatient bunch."
arenaria
"Okay. Thanks for the tea and conversation and invaluable warnings," says Shell Bell, swallowing the last of her beverage and getting up.
arenaria
She giggles, and writes her code down on a corner of a file page and tears it off - very carefully; she might take a while to find more paper - and hands it over.
finaldiscussion
He reads it, then steps back inside to put it down. Things tucked in one's pockets are not safe during contracts.
arenaria
"Bye!" calls Shell Bell, and she heads for the transit station.
She realizes when she steps out of her destination that she must have mistyped something. Oops. She turns around to go back to the correct neighborhood.
She realizes when she steps out of her destination that she must have mistyped something. Oops. She turns around to go back to the correct neighborhood.
arenaria
Shit.
Shitshitshitshitshitshit.
Can she move her eyes - can she talk - Strat didn't mention -
She can move her eyes, yes, and she can talk. Whoever is puppeting her doesn't seem inclined to make themselves known, though. She walks down the unfamiliar street, and whoever it is follows along behind.
arenaria
"I'm not interesting," Shell Bell squeaks. "I'm - I'm not a fun toy. I don't have anything to recommend me."
"Are you sure?" a soft voice inquires from behind her. "You might just be saying that. How do I know, until I try?"
arenaria
"I'm a terrible liar," Shell Bell whimpers. "I'm a complete wimp, it'll be no challenge to get me to scream, I don't scream interestingly either, please please please just let me go -"
"You can't win this, you know," the voice says in friendly tones. "You think you want to be boring, but I think you want to do whatever makes me happy. Let's see who's right."
arenaria
Shell Bell has nothing clever to say.
So on the off-chance that obedience will invite lenience -
she shushes.
(She cannot, quite, quiet the sobbing.)
So on the off-chance that obedience will invite lenience -
she shushes.
(She cannot, quite, quiet the sobbing.)
They walk together like that for a long time - at least an hour.
And then Shell Bell finds herself walking up the front step of a cozy little house, and opening the door, and closing her eyes, and stepping inside. The door shuts behind her, and she keeps walking—around a corner, through another door, down some stairs.
She raises a heavy stone lid, and climbs into a narrow stone box, and lies down in it, and the lid closes over her with a thunk and her body is her own again.
And then Shell Bell finds herself walking up the front step of a cozy little house, and opening the door, and closing her eyes, and stepping inside. The door shuts behind her, and she keeps walking—around a corner, through another door, down some stairs.
She raises a heavy stone lid, and climbs into a narrow stone box, and lies down in it, and the lid closes over her with a thunk and her body is her own again.