I finish grounding myself, and blow out the candles. The house and shop wards seem fine, which is a relief.

The air shimmers. I feel like my ears need to pop. The pressure mounts, and then goes away without a warning. Standing across the room is a reflection of myself. Same clothes (black silk frock coat, black and white stripey full skirt, Victorian blouse, top hat), same perplexed look that I just know is on my face.

Clovis, sitting by the cauldron, looks back and forth between the two of us.

”TWO gothygirls?”

“Who or what are you?” I ask my reflection.

“I think I’m the bad twin”, she replies.

“Huh. So, do you have any urge to destroy me?”

“Not really. I think you should be a lot bitchier to people sometimes, but that’s not worth destroying you over.”

“So we don’t have to fight."

“Nope.”

My evil twin and I turn to face Clovis, who has not suddenly gone binary.

“I wonder why his evil twin didn’t show up”, I muse.

“Prolly because his good and evil sides are pretty similar.”

“But I have an evil twin.”

“Well sure. When I said ‘a lot bitchier’, I meant it. Oh, and thumping clueless baby Goths with the parasol.”

“Right.”

“So, wanna go shopping?”

“Okay.” I look at Clovis. “Go keep Pete company.”

Clovis toddles off, looking even more round-eyed that usual.

“Honey! I’m going to run some errands!” I shout, as my evil twin and I leave the ritual room.

Pete stands in the studio doorway, his eyes as big as Clovis’.

“Jilli?”

“Yes?” we answer in harmony.

“Why are there two of you?”

“Evil twin. She just materialized.”

“But since I don’t have any need to fight her, we’re going shopping.”

Pete eyes us speculatively. “I don’t suppose …”

“Nope.”

“Just because I’m the bad twin doesn’t mean my sexual orientation’s changed. Sorry.”

He shrugs. “It was worth asking. But you’re going shopping.”

“Uh-huh.”

He looks down at Clovis clinging to his pant leg. “You’ve traumatized the rabbit.”

“have not. just not sure about TWO gothygirls. might mean double baths.”

We wave to my (our?) husband and Devilbunny, then head out the door.

“This should be interesting”, I say.

“Maybe we’ll have twice the luck finding things”, my evil twin responds.

With a vicious squawk/unearthly howl, the bad Miracleman transmutes into a sort of pterodactyl thing. With chicken feathers. His massive wings catch the air and he begins to swing around and up.

I fly off north at a rapid pace. Behind me, the Miracledactyl screams and launches a stream of white hot flame from its mouth. Crap.

I have to think, I have to think. Can I kill this guy? If I do, what happens to me? Is this a part of me, an alternate dimension me, a magical construct that has almost nothing to do with me aside from, y'know, being me?

I fly faster, firing lightning wildly from my staff over my shoulder. I don't know if it hits or not.

The beating of wings sounds closer...

Two Knuts, two Miracleman's (Miraclemen?). I look down. Only one of me- thank goodness I was seperated from my twin at birth. The porny, silly me is the only one Blood's going to have to deal with.

Aimee is at the window. Our Miracleman- the good one- is outside. He seems a little panicked. I shrug, make a quick request, and the house moves six feet sideways, bringing MiraclemanG and a pterodactyl inside, and leaving poor Hector halfway into the wall.

Making friends with the houses can be worth doing- and they're getting scared. //A shop in the center says it's got two gothygirls,// Dagfari reports. //I've got a very bad feeling here.//

'Go shave a Wookie,' I tell my Lucas-loving house, and help Hector out of the wall.

and help Hector out of the wall.

I don't know...he kinda looks funny with his leg and arm waving frantically.

I feel the guy's better out. He can't help eat Jell-O monsters with his face in the wall. So what? I have a soft spot for misunderstood bogerts.

Yeah, you're right. It just reminds me of my childhood. Our older sister was constantly doing that to him.

I'm glad to be able to bring back happy memories for you. You might want to dodge a little if you want to keep them, though.

Skootches over about 5 feet

realises that moving Aimée out of line of beak has put me in

moves aside quickly

Hey, Miracleman! Be more careful when you're having magical battles in enclosed spaces- you nearly deaded me!

The house lurches sideways, and Miracleman is back inside, along with a pterodactyl-looking thing whose wingspan should be longer than the room is wide, but then, I'm no interior decorator. Funny.

"Ye gods!" I bellow as the pterodactyl-thing exhales a stream of flame. Am-Chau sidesteps it, and only the draperies are set aflame.

"Hold, foul creature!" I advance on the winged monster. "It is time you faced a foe worthy of--"

He slaps me with a wing, and I am thrown into the wall. Through it, actually. As I fall towards the street outside I hear a faint screaming, and it sounds like the house.