"Run that by me again." - Said Samuel - "You're saying that angel girl will open a portal, pass the bell through it, and open another one above me and to the side so I can catch the bell? How did she get that ability again?"
Robert blushed. "I'm afraid that is hers to tell, Mr. Pitchford... I can't guarantee she will, however."
The two heard wings flapping and turned to the balcony of the belfry. Lucas flew in shortly afterwards.
"Hey, er... Dude" - She said, blushing. - "Terribly sorry, but I'm horrible with names..."
"It's Sam Pitchford, yes..." - Said Sam - "So... How did you develop this... ability of yours?"
"An RPG goddess gave it to me." - Said Lucas, with a light sarcastic smile.
"Interesting." - Said Samuel. There was, however, no trace of sarcasm in his voice.
Robert facepalmed.
Lucas realized her mistake and turned pale(r). The sarcastic confession should have worked for such an absurd claim, even by post-Sun standards.
"Lucas... You may have failed to remember his name, but surely you remember his profession?" - Said Robert.
"Oh. Right. Movie studio exec... So, tropes such as sarcastic confession..."
Sam chuckled, smoke lightly spewing from his mouth. "I'll understand if you don't wish to say more. By what I could gather this is a rather sensitive issue. I suggest, however, that you refrain from trying this in the future..."
"Right." - Said Lucas - "Anyways. You ready?" - She added, intending to change the subject quickly.
Pitchford nodded and gently pulled the bell from its hook. Lucas gestured, a portal appearing, and Pitchford dropped the bell there. Lucas then went in. A few seconds passed and another portal appeared.
"Ready?" - Said Lucas from the portal.
"Yeah." - Said Pitchford.
The bell fell surprisingly lightly, and Sam caught it and repositioned it. It was fully back to normal, exactly as it had been before the fire. Lucas jumped from the hole right after Sam put the bell back, closing the portal behind her.
Robert smiled. "I thank you both..." - She looked at the antique in happy disbelief - her misdeed undone like this, and the bell was perfectly restored.
"Sorta reminds me of that other bell you guys have as sort of a symbol, I think it's in Pennsylvania? I remember the looks, but not the name or story behind it..." - Said Lucas.
"I believe that's the Liberty Bell." - Said Sam - "At any rate..." - he looked behind Lucas - "I think we should leave her be for now..." - he chuckled.
Lucas turned back to see Robert looking at the bell, as if mesmerized. She giggled. "Yeah. Let's give her some time with it. I bet she can't wait to ring it."
The two left the belltower. Once they were at the entrance of the church, Sam turned to Lucas. "Don't worry about me telling anyone. No one would believe me anyways, especially seeing as you gave me no specifics."
Lucas nodded. "Yeah, sorry about that... Trust me, it's actually a complicated deal... It goes beyond fixing stuff, yes... And I do want to tell you. Heck, I want to tell everyone about everything. I can't, sadly."
"And on the pedestal, these words appear. My name is Ozymandias, king of kings. Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair." - Said Sam, quoting Percy Shelley. - "And if you can't tell people, you'd damn well better stop trying to use sarcastic confessions as an outlet for your urge to boast."
Lucas nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I know. Pride comes before a fall and all that."
Her mood had soured a bit. She remembered the "It went to her head" throne she had built in the morning, in jest. Maybe there was some truth in that joke, and that worried her.
If Sam noticed, and he likely had, he pretended not to.
"Anyways. I've gotta get back to work. See you later, Lucas..."
"Laters." - Said Lucas, pensively.
She entered her space on the Moon again, this time going specifically somewhere empty. She sat on the lunar sand to think, aided by the silence, hindered by the knowledge that the silence - as everything there - was linked solely to her will.
So much she could do. But just because you can do something doesn't mean you should. So much she could say to so many people. But just because you can say something doesn't mean you should.
She wanted to say it, though. So. Very. Much.
The need to "show them", to "show them all", was an old itch of hers. For - usually - the less power one has or feel they have, the more subtlety they need, but that doesn't mean they are subtle by choice. She had a very strong desire to actually say a lot of things to a lot of people.
She would love to rub it in the face of those that used power as a cudgel, to laugh at them and reveal that she had cornered them into impotence. That she now controlled the game. Oh, the look on their faces, she used to think. Yet, now she knew better. Well, somewhat better, she thought as she remembered her intent to go to the media about it not a full day ago.
She remembered her waving to the pastor and smiling not a week ago, a move that ensured said pastor would know fully well who to blame for the end of his career, for his public humiliation. She did this because she knew he was beaten.
However, she was now playing in the big leagues, where, power or no power, you have to be subtle. She would have to rein in on her urges. Or at least to control them a lot better.
Besides - she thought, comforting her wild side and nursing her own annoyed ego - it should actually be rather fun to picture certain people crying out 'what happened?'...
That thought felt oddly familiar and comfortable to her.
Hello, trickery, my old friend...
