we are not truly immortal

[dark_light]

After Glass's party is over with, Amariah and Kas go home.

Amariah fetches down their alethiometers.

"It's about time I took care of Alethia's afterlife, whatever it may be," she says quietly. "What can the alethiometer tell you about what I'll find?"

Comments

[dark_light]

I have no idea how we're going to find her! There are millions - billons - of shades here - and space is all folded in on itself - Kas, if we can't get her, how long will it take the damn thing to get bored with her and move on?

[truthwright]

...answer's basically 'How the fuck should I know?', in alethiometer-speak. These things can't tell the future or anything. It could be - any amount of time.

[dark_light]

Sue, if you've been concealing some ability to make people do things via link and you can force her to teleport, or sleep, or something - this is when to fess up. Otherwise I don't have any better ideas than flying around asking shades if they've seen her. Fuck.

[pythbox]

Sue wonders if she is fucking kidding him. No, he cannot do that.

...he can wish the daemon asleep, though.

Or -

no. No he can't.

[sicaria]

I have a better idea, says Sherlock.

[lifes_sake]

Let's hear it.

[sicaria]

I will find her.

[lifes_sake]

How?

[sicaria]

If you knew my template, you would not ask that question, she says.

She boosts her remote-viewing powers and her flight speed as high as they will go, and telekinesis for good measure. She sights on the river, extending her sense of physical space until she understands the boatman's route.

Then she flies.

Left alone on the dock, a white falcon screams. But not for long. Sherlock is moving fast.

He spreads his speckled wings protectively over Shell Bell's smew.

[arenaria]

"No, no," mumbles the smew miserably, but he can't muster the wherewithal to force himself away from comfort a second time; he doesn't move away.

[dark_light]

Is there anything we can do to help?

[sicaria]

Show me everything you know about where she might have gone.

[pythbox]

Ghosty gives up keeping tabs on everyone else and focuses on Shell Bell's location, getting as wide a 'view' as she can with her not-very-visual perceptions and sending it on to Sherlock. She can't manifest properly, though, with part of her attention caught on the other side of the river.

[dark_light]

Amariah pushes what she saw of Shell Bell's initial trajectory.

[lifes_sake]

Cam tries assorted phrasings to get answers out of the alethiometer that might help find her.

[truthwright]

The alethiometer gives Cam directions, but they are cryptic and unhelpful-sounding.

Kas tries, too, and he just pushes the meanings directly to Sherlock through the link.

[sicaria]

Every available piece of information settles into her mind, and she turns and flies and turns and flies and dives and flies and turns and flies.

There.

That is Shell Bell, and that is a harpy. She gives the harpy a telekinetic shove as she comes to a stop just beside Shell Bell.

[arenaria]

Shell Bell looks up just long enough to identify Sherlock's face and then she flinches away.

[alicornucopia]

The harpy banks with vast black wings and screams at Sherlock, and in the scream is not so much words as the distilled essence of shame.

Don't leave me, no, please, I missed you, not yet, please -

No wonder the smew wouldn't let Sherlock hold him, she was always going to leave -

[sicaria]

She scoops up Shell Bell and teleports them both back to the dock.

[pythbox]

Ghosty tracks the harpy.

[alicornucopia]

The harpy is confused. Also, all the shades nearby took advantage of her preoccupation with her live victim to flee the area. She takes off and departs in a random direction.

[arenaria]

Shell Bell struggles in Sherlock's arms, crying; she wouldn't be hard to restrain, but if Sherlock's going to let her wrench out of her arms, there is some risk of her falling near enough their daemons to come into contact with the gyrfalcon, unless he moves out of the way (and the smew wouldn't follow).

The smew has quieted, but he's still shivering.

[sicaria]

"Talk to me," Sherlock says softly. "Tell me what's wrong."

She doesn't let go.

[arenaria]

"Shouldn't - shouldn't -" Shell Bell whimpers, scrunching her eyes shut.