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"I have no basis on which to prefer any other order. So you think there is a torrent of Jellybeans, huh? Well - to be sure -" Cam pulls out Grace, turns her to a blank page, and murmurs softly in Speech, "Hey, you wanna draw me a picture of Jellybean? I bet you do, c'mon."

And lo, a picture of Jellybean in full mahou shoujo garb. "There lots of these running around?"
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"Ah, you have hit upon the Bells' most common companion. The individuals are Jokers; the collective is a deck. Handy fellows to have around. I believe there were eight at last count, not all connected to Bells."

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"Wow. Okay. And I am the only boy Bell. They're going to be all over me. I'm not sure if it's Christmas or Armageddon."

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"Can it not be both?" he inquires.

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"Perhaps it can. And there's more of you too, huh? I'm going to need to see a list at some point." He tucks Grace away into his bag. "Get everything written down."

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"There is such a list, as it happens. Fair warning, I am the only Sherlock who is likely to flirt with you. Shall we go find my girlfriend?"

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"Others only like girls or something?" asks Cam. "I think I'll have enough to deal with if there's eight more Jellybeans. And yeah, let's go meet your girlfriend. What's her name? Belinda, Arabella, Isabelle, something like that?"

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"Isabella, goes by Bella, I call her Juliet and to avoid redundancy so do most other people if there's more than one of her cluttering up the conversation."

He opens the door.
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"I guess if I'm the only boy I can just carry on going by Cam," says Cam.

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"Indeed you can."

[Dear Juliet,] he says by brainphone, [I found a Bell!]
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Here's Juliet! She steps through the door. "Yeah? Where is she?" she asks, bouncing on her toes.

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Sherlock laughs.

"Cam, Juliet. Juliet, Campbell Swan."
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"Hi," says Cam.

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"...Okay, that's new, how do we know you're an alt and not just a coincidentally named brother-type?"

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"Apparently notebooks are a thing?" Cam offers.

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"They are till we meet the peal and make 'em redundant by hexing up perfect recall," says Juliet.

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"Don't say that, you'll scare her," says Cam.

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"His notebook is named Grace," Sherlock chips in. "She is magical in some way."

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"She's particularly well-loved, and I've warded her and everything, but everything talks, she's just particularly cooperative 'cause she's mine," says Cam. He takes Grace out and pats her. "Don't worry, you're not redundant," he soothes in Speech.

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"You're talking to your notebook," says Juliet. "In a weird language."

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"You could talk to yours if you were a wizard. What are you instead? I'm getting a general impression of some kinda magic."

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Juliet grins.

She flares aura.

"Oh, me? I'm just a mint-enchantress-Slayer-incipient empress-manager of the afterlife who wears a multidimensional goddess 'round her neck and dates a vampire."
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Cam takes a half-step back.

"Oookay, I feel like I should be terrified, but I think I should be asking how I can get in on some of that action."
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Sherlock picks up his girlfriend's hand and kisses a flicker of flame between her knuckles.

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