2010-06-22 - Moonbeam brings home another girl

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Moonbeam brings home another girl
Summary: For an irascible middle-aged princess who already has her application in for a waving-cane, she sure picks up a lot of kids. Moonbeam is asked by a mysterious diplomat to bail Lenore out of jail.
Who: Moonbeam, Shadowgirl
When: June 22nd, 2010
Where: A police station, then a breakfast place.



"This bloody well bites, doesn't it?" Lenore growls as she stares out the little, barred window. The view? She gets to see the parking lot! Isn't that just grand? She turns and paces. Five steps to the bars. Five steps back to the wall. Three steps to the cot, where she sits down. "God, I've been here fucking forever." She mutters. In fact, she's been here a little less than twenty hours.


Princess Moonbeam was awakened ungracefully as she slept in her nicely appointed but not really posh East Village brownstone. This time it wasn't her cellphone going off with the 'disco alarm' ringer, or a plate crashing against her wall, or a banshee shriek or any of the other signs of Lola's presence either. It was a foreign gentleman knocking at the doorframe with a delicate polished ebony cane. A favor was requested. A demon was...inconveniently attached to a young girl, could Moonbeam please get her out of custody before the situation became worse?

And so our princess got hastily dressed and appeared at the station with a rush-job forgery giving her at least temporary custody of one Lenore Higgins, and like a thousand bucks in bail money.

So when the nice officer comes to Lenore and tells her she's being let out, she'll eventually get to a lobby where Moonbeam is waiting, looking bleary-eyed and grouchy, holding a cup of terrible police-station coffee.


"Who the bloody hell are you?" Lenore growls. She was expecting someone from the school or, worse, her 'rents. Not some fluffy brown-haired bunny creeping gracefully towards middle age. "Did my mum and dad, send you? You don't look like embassy staff. Probably some blokes poor nanny..." She shakes her head. Her shadow, though, whispers in words that only she should be able to hear (the operative word being should. Faerie princesses do break a number of rules).

"Careful with this one," a silky, Persian female voice whispers, "She's more than she seems..."


Moonbeam coughs a bit and makes a face after sipping some of the coffee, and sets it down almost gracefully as Lenore emerges. She stands, makes a futile gesture at straightening her hair again, and raises her eyebrows. "Nanny." she grumbles. "I'm Princess Moonbeam, Rider of the Green Hills, Duchess of Flying Wort Castle." She exhales a bit. "A...friend of...your friend...asked me to get you out as a favor." She squints her eyes a bit, narrows them, searching the air around the young woman. "But no I don't work for your parents, and thus far this whole incident has escaped their attention."


"Princess.... Moonbeam..." Lenore processes that information. "Right-o. I suppose I should be grateful." She walks forward and claps Moonbeam on the shoulder. "Good job, then. I really appreciate it. Nothing worse than spending the night in the pokey and all of that. You're a beauty, you are, for getting me out. Don't be a stranger, eh?" She winks and begins to walk past, heading for the door. Freedom!


"Not quite so fast," Moonbeam murmurs, clapping a hand with a surprisingly iron grip onto Lenore's bicep. This is a family trait, her mother is also able to do it. "You've gotten yourself into something of a pickle with that thing in your shadow and I don't think just dropping you on the street is quite the right response." An eyebrow raises slightly, both challenge and question. "And where were you planning to go, anyway?"


"You... can see her?" That stops Lenore cold. She turns to face "Princess Moonbeam", then glances back to her shadow as if listening to something. "... huh. Scheherazade says you're the real deal." One can almost see her eyes calculating. Her brain working out the proper course of action. "I'm sorry. I thought maybe you were just a looney with some green. My bad, eh? I guess I'm in a bit of a pickle, here, and I'd appreciate some help?" The change in attitude may be abrupt but her pitch, facial expressions, and body language flow to perfectly match the new, subservient tone.


"Hmph." Moonbeam is not entirely fooled; she was raised part of the time by faeries, and the rest by girls' boarding schools. Still, she just gestures with her head towards outside now, and moves along with the girl. Her cellphone is flipped out and she calls a cab. "Yes, I've been asked to assist you a little, since you are somewhat...afflicted as my mother would say. She'd probably just cut your shadow loose and exercise it, then sew it back on again without letting you get a word in edgewise, but I'm a little more relaxed and also dislike sewing."


"That doesn't sound pleasant." Lenore admits, "I'm not exactly ready to sloff off Scheherazade anywho. She saved my life and, well, I like having her around." She follows along just behind the princess. "Besides, I earned her fair and square, what?"


"Nobody 'earns' a demon." Moonbeam grumbles. "Even the...slightly more benign non-Judeo-Christian ones." She opens the door to the cab and gestures for Lenore to get in before she will do so herself. "I'm hungry, so we're going for pancakes. According to the cops, you were at the scene of a fairly violent altercation, though you're not under too much suspicion for that part, but you've got a fairly long rap sheet of other, unrelated incidents. I'm not usually a youth advocate or anything but I can suggest a slightly better life path."


"I don't have a rap sheet. I was never convicted of anything." Lenore grumbles, "I just match the description of a bird who ripped a few people off. Complete coincidence." She climbs into the cab. "And the warehouse was self-defense. Not my fault they tried to feed my hand to Scheherazade. Idiot didn't even know what he had."


"They usually don't, which is why amateur infernalism is a practice widely discouraged." Moonbeam slides into the cab and shuts the door, gives the driver a street name. As they pull away, she continues. "Self-defense is fine, and the guys aren't dead and you aren't--as I say--being charged with anything for that. But it does mean you've got a 'friend' there that you need to learn to control or at least negotiate with effectively. Also, all those complete coincidences are catching up with you and should really be halted."


"What do you suggest?" Lenore says as she buckles up. She's been in a NYC cab before. She doesn't want to take any chances. "If you've got a plan, I'm all ears. I don't feel like getting deported. I like it here in the colonies."


Moonbeam just gives a snort to 'the colonies'. "I suggest finishing school and training yourself a bit in the genuine mystical arts and then perhaps taking up the cause of preventing similar disasters, since having a demon gives one a leg up on finding other demons, less constrained."


"Didn't intend to drop out of school." Lenore leans back in the seat. She tilts her head, listening to something else. "... really? You think she has a good idea, then? Target... what are you..." She frowns and looks to Moonbeam, "Is she right? Am I going to be a target for everyone who wants their own, personal attack demon?"


"Yes, more or less. Since you are young they will assume you are vulnerable, and in some respects you are whether you are willing to admit such or not. I recommend staying with me for a while since my house is at least warded." The cab comes to a stop outside the pancake place--it's a little family-run sort of diner, and Moonbeam gets out. "Just never open the door under my stairs even if there is knocking or something behind it begs you to do so."


Lenore slips out of the cab behind the princess. "Hold on a tick." She says, arms crossed over her chest. "I'm not going another step until you tell me who you are and how you know so much about all this. You say you're a princess. Princess of what?"


"Of faerie of course." Moonbeam says like that should be obvious. "I even have my own unicorn, though he's on sabbatical at the moment. Some kind of meditation seminar." She waves a hand in the air. "I'm like eleventy-fourth in line for my father's throne, and that's good because glory be, fae are backstabbing bubbleheads. My mother is Doctor Eternity, you may have heard of her, and oh, I have a business card." She shuffles in her purse a minute and produces one.

Princess Moonbeam Ruler of West Farthingland, Rider of the Green Hills, Duchess of Flying Wort Castle Member of VANGUARD

<Contact information>


Lenore stares down at the business card. "Blimey." She mutters, "You're not joshing me, are you? Well, fuck me. This is... yeah." She tucks the card away in her pocket, "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I knew all this stuff existed... you see tights and capes on the telly every night, after all. Still..."


"Still, yes, when it brushes against your own life it can be a bit startling." Moonbeam acknowledges. "Come on, they have really good waffles here." She gestures, tries to lure Lenore into the restaurant. At least it's a public location? Also their coffee is probably less terrible than the police station's, which may be a major part of Moonbeam's motivations.


"I am a bit peckish." Or a lot starved. Lenore follows the Princess into the pancake place. When she's settled, she picks up the menu and examines it, "Still can't get over how Americans gorge themselves. No wonder they're all getting fat..."


"It is a plague, yes. A delicious plague." Moonbeam mutters distractedly as she surveys her own menu. She seems to settle on a selection fairly quickly, but she's been here before, as evidenced by the waitress greeting her by name and filling her coffee cup.


Lenore orders coffee, some orange juice, and waffles drenched in strawberries and strawberry syrup. Nothing too fancy. "So, what's in all this for you, then? What do you get for taking me in and making sure I don't get my shadow snipped by some nasty?"


"Social capital, mostly." Moonbeam orders blueberry pancakes with bacon and hashbrowns. "It's good to have people owe you favors. Also you might be a friend for Emily, another girl I helped out of a jam in faerie lately--or she might be a friend to you, one can never predict such things."


Lenore grunts delicately as she considers this. "That's something, then. Not sure your reasons are valid to my way of thinking but, anywho... my folks'll have to be dealt with, seeing as they think I'm in school and all."


"Mm, yes. There are a couple of ways to handle that. I could just tell them you have a magical talent and offer to train it, without mentioning particulars. The other option is to bribe the officials of your old school into saying you are still present while enrolling you somewhere more convenient. Really, at least it's summer right now so there's a bit of time to consider it." When the food arrives, Moonbeam is silent for a few moments to eat it.


"My school's year-round." Lenore shakes her head, "They'll figure out I'm not there in a day or so, when my roomie decides to report I'm missing. She thinks I'm shacking up with a girlfriend for a few days." She shrugs her shoulders. Then there's food to be eaten and Lenore discovers she's utterly famished. She eats quite happily.


"Hm." Moonbeam ponders things as she eats, the decision of how to properly dispose of Lenore's legal standing taking on some urgency. Not enough to spoil her pancakes at least. "Do you normally skip school to shack up with girlfriends?"


"A fair amount. The school's pretty quiet about reporting to the parents." Lenore explains, "They don't want to lose their funding so we can get away with a fair amount of shit. As long as I keep my grades up, aren't violent or preggers..."


"Not much chance of 'preggers' with that method," Moonbeam mutters dryly. "Where is this school located?" She might have read it in some paperwork the cops gave her and promptly forgot, sue her.


"Not far," Lenore says, "Just outside the city. Pretty place. Stern looking teachers who care more about their paycheck than teaching and rich bitch birds who just want their own way." She grins. "Guess that's a bit like me now, huh?"


"Well, I wasn't going to say anything." Moonbeam states deadpan, but then smiles a little. "I went to several fancy boarding schools until I was able to settle into one which did not cramp my personal style too much so I know how that goes. Unfortunately New York commutes are a bit of a pain. We'll see what we can work out with them as far as keeping your enrollment current but pulling you off the campus a little." She gnaws idly on her bacon.


"Hey, if a faerie princess can't work it out, who can?" Lenore's liking this idea. Perhaps this can be the start of something good. More freedom, at least. And helping people out can't be all bad. On occasion.


On occasion. "I admit I can be charming when I put some effort into it." Moonbeam agrees, dryly. She means it quite literally of course. It's magic. "So what is your demon's name again?" She doesn't really seem to find anything wrong with discussing this in the diner. Perhaps they're just used to it, here.


Lenore glances around but then shrugs. There's no point in not discussing it. "Scheherazade. She's a Qareen. Some sort of ancient Arabian genie demon. She says they're mentioned in the Quaran. I'll look it up, someday. Maybe."


"I have a copy at home. It's in English, so the words of the prophet are diluted according to orthodox sources, but we work with what we have." Moonbeam says with a shrug. "Any relation to the teller of tales?" She asks. Who knows, right?


Lenore listens, then says, "She says that's complicated.." She frowns as she listens. "... she was first summoned and bound to that Scheherazade's daughter and named after her mother. She liked the name so she kept it."


"Huh." The Princess absorbs that thoughtfully. "Well, fair enough. It's at least easy to remember." She sips some coffee. "You seem to be adjusting to her presence fairly well, no shrieking or trying not to explain to doctors that you are hearing voices."


"That's me. Quick to adjust." Lenore says with a wan smile, "There's no point in trying to cry over it. No point in denying it. Just another angle to work out. A posh one, too. I can't say I won't enjoy having powers."


"Hrmph, well, don't enjoy it too much and forget she's still a demon." Moonbeam grumbles a little. "But certainly it is more interesting than the usual youth-trauma angle."


Lenore finishes her coffee. It IS good coffee. Though not tea. "I won't forget." The young woman promises. Which means she totally will, "And you'll be there to remind me, eh? Not like I don't have a mentor in my new world of powers and such." She pauses. "I'm not wearing a costume. Just so you know."


"You might wish to consider at least a domino mask unless you want to be 'on' all the time." Moonbeam instructs, this time with the weight of experience. "Mostly though you really, really mustn't forget that she's a demon, though, and will lie to you to get what she wants. At any rate--" She stands, after finishing her coffee. "We should get going, I'll show you the place." Money is dropped on the table.

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