we are invariably pleased to welcome tourism

[cross_and_bow]

Sherlock is usually very puncutal. He's only one minute late, but that's still not quite as punctual as usual. Bella peers out the window, not yet allowing herself outright concern.

Comments

[eversomuchfun]

"Hell-Orifice," Sherlock says flippantly.

[cross_and_bow]

"No," says Juliet, snorting. "I think I'll go with Sunshine."

[she_sells_seashells]

"Worlds are harder to name than ourselves," says Shell Bell. "Of course, I didn't even pick my nickname, everyone's been calling me it since I was eight."

[luminous_regnant]

"Easier with a theme," comments Golden.

[eversomuchfun]

"What's wrong with Hell-Orifice? I'll bet you what you like that neither of their worlds has one," he says, gesturing to the two non-Juliet Bells in the room. "Whereas they almost certainly have sunshine, damn the luck."

[cross_and_bow]

"Because I don't want to say 'hey, why not come hang out with me in Hell-Orifice for a while', and also the Hell-Orifice is a specific location within the world in general," Juliet says, writing up her profile on the page after Golden's.

[she_sells_seashells]

"It's ironic," volunteers Shell Bell.

[luminous_regnant]

"You have the sunshine thing?" Golden asks Sherlock. "That sounds inconvenient."

[eversomuchfun]

"If by 'the sunshine thing' you mean that certain frequencies of ultraviolet will in sufficient concentration light me on fire, yes," he says. "Yes I do, and yes it is."

[luminous_regnant]

"Being on fire is not fun," says Golden. With a slight hint of inside joke and an adjustment to her hair, shorter than Juliet's or Shell Bell's.

[eversomuchfun]

"I imagine not," he agrees. "Do I take this to mean you have personal experience with that fact?"

[luminous_regnant]

"Oh yes. Short of stranding us on the moon or otherwise managing to starve us to death, the only way to kill my sort of vampire is with fire, albeit not solar sourced fire. This is traditionally much easier if we're pulverized into small chunks first, though. My witch power is sufficiently interested in my mind's continued existence as well as its integrity to force me back into a survivable configuration if someone manages to attempt this on me. Twice."

[she_sells_seashells]

"Ow," squeaks Shell Bell.

[eversomuchfun]

"Fascinating," says Sherlock.

[luminous_regnant]

"You could put it that way."

[cross_and_bow]

"I'm glad you're alive," volunteers Juliet.

[she_sells_seashells]

"Me too."

[luminous_regnant]

"Thank you," says Golden. "I'm glad I'm alive too. I don't imagine being set on fire would have been any more comfortable if my enemies had succeeded at what they had in mind, after all. Although there are drawbacks to finding such extreme conditions survivable. The previous occupants of my position as secret vampire world leader found it convenient to keep people with useful witchcraft stored as heaps of rubble in a dungeon, including my husband and my sister-in-law, for five years."

[eversomuchfun]

"Damn," says Sherlock.

[luminous_regnant]

"Rather. Yes. And in that time Edward thought I was dead, which was worse. Diamond vampires - as I have decided to call us - mate for life in the most serious sense possible."

[eversomuchfun]

"Well. That's unpleasant," he says, not quite as flippantly as he means to.

[luminous_regnant]

"I thought he was dead too. I turned out to be mistaken regarding the identity of an ash heap. I was, just barely, functional - it helped that there was Elspeth, even before I took her from her grandparents and aunts and uncles."

[she_sells_seashells]

"Do you want a hug?" asks Shell Bell.

[cross_and_bow]

"Yeah," agrees Juliet, "hugs, available things."

[luminous_regnant]

Golden has to think about this, but it takes an imperceptible amount of time.

"All right," she says, and she receives hugs, which she returns very, very carefully.