unconsciousness would be an undesirable outcome

[self_composed]

On Sunday, Bella drives to the movie theater with Angela in tow, and her car breaks on the way home from Angela's house. She calls a tow truck, and calls her dad, and she goes home in the cop car and her station wagon goes on vacation to the mechanic.

On Monday, Charlie drives Bella to school.

As she's been discharged from the car and Charlie pulls away, a van driven by a panicking teenager screams out of nowhere towards Bella.

Making wishes is easy.

It is not automatic. It is not instantaneous.

The van creams Bella, good and proper.

Comments

[edgeofyourseat]

...heh. Left foot smashed up, huh? Now that's funny.

With the medical knowledge he wished himself, he now has a very complete picture of what it's like in there. Better to try too much first than too little, because the worst it can do is just quietly not work: he picks up a pentagon and wishes her fixed.

[self_composed]

The pentagon continues to exist. Apparently it's not quite up to that.

[edgeofyourseat]

Okay.

Then it's piece by piece, and he knows what Bella would probably care about most. He wishes her head better first.

[self_composed]

A few visible scratches above her neck disappear, as the only observable sign.

Also her eyelashes flutter and she makes a small noise.

[edgeofyourseat]

Okay. Just to check, he tries to fix everything else. No dice.

Maybe it'll help if he wishes the pins out of her broken bones first. He can use a square for that.

[self_composed]

"Nnnnnng."

Bella is apparently waking up. She was unconscious; they didn't bother dosing her with painkillers.

[edgeofyourseat]

"Hi," he says. "I know it hurts, sorry, don't worry, I'm gonna fix it."

How about just her ribs and spine?

[self_composed]

A pentagon obligingly disappears. Bella takes a deep breath.

She opens her eyes and squints against the light.

"Heh," she says. "I don't remember. Did I get one?"

[edgeofyourseat]

"You did," he beams, "look—" and he bites his lip and shows her the triangle, with a sullen hint of red lurking for a moment in its black depths.

Then he tries fixing all the rest again, just to see.

[self_composed]

"Nice," she says, and she yawns. "Heh, you fixed me. I was getting a pentagon like every five seconds. Now I'm just tired."

She closes her eyes and opens them again. "Where's my dad?"

[edgeofyourseat]

"He went home," says Alice. "It's been a while. You want all these back?" He gestures to the pile of pentagons in his lap.

[self_composed]

She peers over at them. "Uh, maybe, I dunno, I have six new ones now... How are we going to explain this medical miracle?"

[edgeofyourseat]

"Well, it's not like I'm ever gonna need to borrow from you again," Alice says cheerfully. "Might as well keep 'em on your necklace for now, right? And I don't have a fucking clue, you're the smart one here. My brilliant plan for getting in here to see you was to wait for visiting hours and cry a lot."

[self_composed]

"Mkay." She squares the pentagons out of his lap. "Uh, hm. Medical miracle. Including pin-vanishing. Is my backpack in here? I dunno how big a coin I need to Jedi mind trick my dad and a bunch of doctors." She closes her eyes. "Plus my mom. He'd have called her."

[edgeofyourseat]

"Yeah," he says, and fetches said backpack.

[self_composed]

Her various extremities are still in casts and the like. She squares them away. "Make sure nobody comes in before I have a good plan. Is there some obvious option besides brainwashing everybody, re-injuring myself, and allowing the media to descend upon me to find out how I got God to heal me?"

[edgeofyourseat]

"...We could just change all the actual, like, records," he suggests. "...Nah, probably wouldn't—well, wait, hang on, what if we just wish you up to look like you've still got a shitload of broken bones?"

[self_composed]

"Then I lie in this hospital bed for months, I guess, but that still might be best. Maybe I can refuse medical care and 'recuperate' at home? No, I'm a minor..." She digs through her backpack and seeks Helpful Charts.

[edgeofyourseat]

"We could," he stops, swallows, tries again, "just let your dad in on the whole magic thing. He seemed... okay, I guess."

[self_composed]

"Charlie would be good about it," Bella says. "But he wouldn't like it. He'd freak out." She chews her lip. "Which might actually help. I could call him and tell him I want him to bring me home, and that I can explain if he really wants but he could also just trust me. And then I get someone to bring me schoolwork and work on my plan to take over the world until I could realistically make public appearances again."

The Helpful Charts do not list "Jedi mind trick" as a possible thing.

[edgeofyourseat]

"...that sounds pretty workable," says Alice. He sounds fairly uncomfortable with it, though.

[self_composed]

"My dad is not like your dad," Bella says. "Would I live here if he was?"

[edgeofyourseat]

"Oh, I know your dad is not like my dad," he says. "But I don't... know it. You know? Like, I get it on the head level, but the gut level still wants to be about a state away from anything to do with him."

[self_composed]

Bella nods.

The Helpful Charts do list illusions of various sorts. She expends a square; convincing appearances of casts appear where there had previously been real ones. "This will probably hold up to casual scrutiny as long as no one tries to write their name on one and I don't absentmindedly scratch my arm," she says. "I don't suppose my phone survived impact. And I don't really want to see how long I can fool a doctor with fake casts. Can I borrow your phone?"

[edgeofyourseat]

"Yeah," he says, passing it over.