They and most of their friends are all here on Planet Rainbowsand II, to celebrate the addition of Sarion, the elf one, and Aurora, the one with a sister.
"Yes," she concludes.
It's almost like falling away into unthoughts like when the demon concentrated, before, except she's lucid.
"I have read your nametag, and know that you are an alt of my beloved, but I have learned little else about you."
"I'm the snuggly one," she says cheerfully. "Which is why the aura, not because of the aura. The aura does things other than cuddly. Did anybody tell you about Voice?"
"Sometimes Jokers have brothers," says Queenie. "They tend to turn out pretty fucked up. Voice is mine. He was a serial killer when he was alive, and when he died he took to keeping people in a box in his basement, one at a time. He got Shell Bell, and then a while later he got me."
Then: "This is why I am referred to as being broken 'like Shell Bell was'," she concludes.
"Probably," she agrees. "I'm not broken like Shell Bell was, but it fucked me up pretty bad. It's better if I touch people a lot, so - cuddly."
"I was not kept in a box. It seems unlikely that my form of breakage is the same as Shell Bell's."
"Perhaps we are simply the only two Bells who have broken at all, and there is more than one way to do it."
There is a double meaning to by myself.
"I do not know how much my beloved has said about how I came to be broken."
She glances around the room.
"It seems that each Bell who found herself in company with a Joker is romantically involved with him. Except for me."
She doesn't know what she thinks of this - well, she doesn't think anything of it, yet, thinking is still hard - but it is on her mind.
"You love your sweeties," Queenie points out. She has spoken to the sweeties in question. She knows.