2010-07-08 - Mumblemumble Stealing is Bad, Here's Some Condoms
From Four Color Comics MUX
| Mumblemumble Stealing is Bad, Here's Some Condoms | |||
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| Summary: A rousing moral lecture by a prim headmistress to a star pupil. Also Moonbeam talks to Lenore. | |||
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Moonbeam has just recently emerged from her 'garden' as she calls it, and is wearing a somewhat-grubby pair of jeans, a little white sleeveless shirt, and a sun hat. She also has a little canvas shoulder bag lightly embroidered with sunflowers in which she seems to keep tools and gloves. Of course, her 'garden' is through the door under the stairs that she very incredibly sternly instructed Lenore never to open when she's not around and keeps locked with a huge padlock for good measure--though there are some indications that that is to keep things behind the door from getting out as much to keep Lenore or other visitors (such as her occasional girlfriend) from getting in.
When she emerges now, she blunders out a bit, tripping in her gardening crocs and stumbling over to one of the various little decorative vases and other bric-a-brac she keeps in her home. Some of them were made by the various starving artists she occasionallypatronizes. Some are family heirlooms, and often impossible to tell from the new things. A few have a look that can only be described as 'elves made it'. Her furniture is much of a similar mixture.
On this occasion, however, in the process of saving her unique art object/heirloom/elf relic, Moonbeam discovers that it is full of a huge wad of cash.
This is withdrawn with some surprise, and given that Moonbeam pretty much never remembers to carry cash unless it's for something really specific, it probably isn't hers.
"Lenore!" She calls upstairs to her occasional tenant. "Have you been selling drugs?"
"No!" Lenore calls out. It takes a moment. She's in her bedroom, working on a brand new driver's license. This one has her named as Misty Barnes and puts her age at exactly twenty-one. Well, twenty-one and three days now. She sighs, sets down the hologram sticker (carefully held in a pair of tweezers) and walks out of the room. She peers down the stairs. "Shit." She mutters. "I won that in Vegas..."
"I'm not even going to ask how you got to Vegas and honestly if you can make it back in time for school it's not really a big deal. But seriously, 'won'?" The princess asks, tilting her head a bit. "Either you scammed your way into a casino or you are pulling shenanigans again." The cash is waggled a bit in the air. "Also when I do the cleaning, the rats will find just about anything you hide outside your own room, and it's not even because I'm trying to get into it."
Lenore rolls her eyes. "I don't gamble. Its a sure way to lose money. You think I'm a scam artist? You should see the sort of crap those blokes at the casinos pull." She walks down the stairs, still dressed in a "Manchester United" jersey and a pair of running shorts. "I did con the quid off a couple of fatcats, I admit, but I'm going to give half to charity. I swear."
Moonbeam makes a face. "With the gambling, at least people sort of know that they are being scammed. With you scamming, it's just sort of a matter of time until you are in jail again and I might not be able to bail you out so easily. Even if they're rich and obnoxious, it's not really a good idea to go robbing them. Especially when you have enough money on your own, full meals whether here or at school, and other basic necessities covered." She isn't trying to super-lecture, but it is still kinda.
"If it helps..." Lenore says, "I saved a life? Ran into a girl in an alley. Some blokes about to rape her." She makes a face now. Distaste and disgust. Anger. "They'll not be trying that again with broken arms, I'll tell you what. I made sure she'd press charges before I left."
Again, Moonbeam makes a face. It's a slightly different one, a sort of dismay this time. "Well, I mean, that is definitely a good use of your talents, but in doing that you haven't earned a 'reward' of stealing from others, do you see? I get shanghaied into fighting nazi robots or whatever periodically but I that doesn't lead to much more than the occasional souvenir." She points over her mantle, where a metal plate bearing the serial number of a Steel Behemoth rests puzzlingly by an imposing family portrait and a vase of flowers that changes pretty much daily.
She saw it. She's priced it. She's considered putting it up on eBay. She hasn't. Lenore sighs. "Alright. Just... do something with the quid then, eh? You decide. Give it to some worthy charity. Can't exactly give it back to the owners. I'm not sure who they were or where."
"Oh, I could probably find out, but in the end, charity is perhaps the best home for it." The money vanishes into Moonbeam's regular purse, which is sitting on a ledge by the door where she cannot possibly forget. "I mean I understand wanting something to do, but like, couldn't I just get you a gameboy or knitting needles or something?"
"Gameboy's old, luv." Lenore puts her hands together, makes a pair of shadow wings and leaps from the stairs. She floats down easily. "I don't really have any hobbies. Listening to music, I guess. Clubbing."
"Clubbing. You are sixteen." Moonbeam mutters. "Could we like, try to figure out some hobbies for you then? I could take you to some of my gallery shows if you promise to be responsible about the wine." The free wine that they just give to whoever asks, assuming that anyone who got in the door is eligible. "And by that I mean 'moderate', it's not going to kill you with one glass." She flaps a hand a bit, trying to get back on track. "I mean music is also good, there's like a million live bands playing pretty much all the time in New York. Did you ever want to learn to play yourself?"
Lenore shakes her head. "No interest. I don't mind going to galleries. I enjoy art." And isn't bad at forging it, though there are better, "I never drink to excess. Losing control of myself so some bloke can paw all over me and claim it was consentual? No thank you."
"Well, the law pretty much states that a drunk person can't consent, and that pretty much means 'drunk girl, particularly under 18'. But still, a good path to follow." She murmurs. "I can get you memberships to some of the museums around town if you want to visit those now and again. Oh! Martial arts classes. Of course. If you want to do crime-stopping and stuff." She rests her hands on her hips thoughtfully.
"I... suppose I should learn more about that." Lenore says, though the idea of all that physical labor obviously leaves a sour taste in her mouth. "I do have a little problem." She pauses, then says. "I ran into this bird in Vegas. Cute. Mouth on her. Knows how to throw down an insult or three. She got my goat a bit and my special friend started moving on her own."
Moonbeam's brows raise a little bit. "Moving on her own? Like aggressively?" She inquires, looking a bit more concerned; peering at Lenore's shadow more directly. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?" She adds, addressing Scheherazade directly.
The shadow shrinks back a bit. It knows, apparently, better than to piss off a faerie princess. There's a hiss. A whisper. ~Anger and desire rose in Lenore as if twin pillars of fire. In anticipating her needs this humble shadow forgot her place. Forgive me, oh beautiful Princess.~ Lenore actually blushes a bit. "... was not..."
Moonbeam makes a weird sound that is actually trying not to laugh and covering it a mite poorly with a mock-choke sound. "Was not what, angry or desirous?" She asks of Lenore. "And you, just don't do it again--rising up without direction attracts cut-rate exorcists flies, and they are a lot harder to get rid of."
~As the Princess commands.~ The shadow hisses and then sinks back into the floor where it belongs. Lenore sighs. "She was a bit hot. I like a girl with spunk."
There, Moonbeam does just gently chuckle. "Well, the spirited ones do keep life interesting." She says simply. "You favor girls then, overall?" This, fairly clearly, is not something she considers a negative.
"About fifty-fifty, physical wise." Lenore clarifies. "Leaning towards woman when it comes to personality. Most guys are conditioned to be arseholes, eh? Girls know how to spar without it being one big, leering put on."
"I suppose that they do. Fair enough." The Princess says simply. "Are you using any protection?" It's blunt and matter-of-fact, and while she flushes a little to even be having this conversation, it's at least far less awkward than her own such discussion with her mother.
"I'm not on the pill." Lenore admits. "Its easier to get in the UK. Here, the school nurse would call my folks and I do NOT want to have that discussion with mum. When I'm with a girl I'm usually careful. Condoms. Dental dams. Same with boys. Not that I've been with anyone since coming to the US."
"Hm, hm. Well, we can probably get you on the pill here without any fuss, and it will involve me pretending to be your legal guardian in a slightly unethical way, but better safe than sorry." Moonbeam murmurs, running a hand through her hair, dislodging her sunhat to hang by its ribbon at her neck. "It's probably important enough. So, gallery passes, martial arts lessons, pill. I think those are the major things to cover."
"... you're being very kind." Lenore says after a moment. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to betray your trust with... that." She nods towards the purse, where her stash is now tucked away. "I guess old habits are just hard to break."
Moonbeam exhales a bit, her shoulders slump a little. "Well, I mean--I'm not very used to having children around. Or teenagers, or whatever. Fae are for the most part not actually rational by human standards, so it's nice to be able to work with something that can actually make that decision." She crosses her arms a bit. "The rest is just--well, I haven't had to think about it much."
"Hey. No being down on yourself, now." Lenore steps forward and puts a hand on Moonbeam's shoulder. She squeezes, gently. "You're a beautiful person, eh? Taking me in. Helping me. Not just me. Others, too. I could stand to be a bit more like you, probably."
Moonbeam takes a breath, musters a smile again. "You're also quite kind. No more stealing. I need to shower and such, the garden is a mess--I'll show it to you at some point, but it's not quite--in season--exactly." Time being a funny thing over there. "Anyway, it'll all work out."
Lenore thinks about that for a moment. She honestly does. Then she nods. "I believe you. For some reason, I trust you. Maybe its your faerie powers. Or..." Maybe its something else. She lets the thought trail off. "Go shower. I need to finish my project and then spruce up a bit myself."
"Alright then. Have fun." She doesn't ask what the project is, perhaps choosing--naively--to believe it's a thing for school, at least for the moment. Or at least probably not a car-battery bomb like some other heroes' sidekicks might do. She trots up the stairs towards the shower, with its welcoming scented products.
