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

[arenaria]

"We're sorry we're sorry -"

And the smew is now beyond words, and appears to be trying, if ineffectively and with mixed feelings, to get away from Sherlock.

[lifes_sake]

"What is the harpy doing to Shell Bell?" Cam demands of the alethiometer.

[sicaria]

Sherlock cuddles the smew, but doesn't hold him prisoner.

[truthwright]

The alethiometer says to Cam, "The harpy is causing suffering in her."

[lifes_sake]

"How?" Cam snaps.

[arenaria]

"Shouldn't - shouldn't," the smew is murmuring under his breath, and eventually he manages to flop out of Sherlock's hold and fall gracelessly to the dock, where he huddles and whines to himself.

[pythbox]

Ghosty is spread out a little too thin to get clear details, but there is a harpy by Shell Bell, and it is shrieking. She forwards this information to the link.

[truthwright]

"It is in their nature," says the alethiometer.

[arenaria]

The smew is not doing too well without Sherlock's comfort to mitigate whatever the harpy's doing, and he's wailing his lungs out where he's flopped on the dock but refuses to make a move towards his person's girlfriend. Occasionally he looks at her, but then clumsily hides his face under his wing.

[lifes_sake]

Kas, can you get any better answers out of your alethiometer than I can out of this one about what's going on with Shell Bell?

[truthwright]

Kas tries.

Harpies have a kind of magic that makes you listen to what they say, and they use it to make people feel horrible.

[arenaria]

The smew pretty obviously feels horrible. Yep.

[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.