12389/Urban Legends: East Village Godmother

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Urban Legends: East Village Godmother
Date of Scene: 24 August 2022
Location: East Village, NYC
Synopsis: In chasing down the East Village, NYC 'Fairy Godmother' who left DeMarcus Winston full of cancerous tumors incongruous with life, Phoebe Beacon finds a familiar face. Delores Klein finds that vigilante investigators don't like signing paperwork, and Donovan Roawland meets acquaintence of one of the occultists out of the Curio in Gotham City.

Phoebe still is very suspicious of *any* fae dealings.

Cast of Characters: Phoebe Beacon, Delores Klein, Donovan Rowland




Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    There are always bigger things in the dark.

    NYC, a city that never sleeps. It can be the city of heroes, like Spider-Man, the Fantastic Four -- or it's the city of horrors. The things that go bump in the night, that drag the unsuspecting down dark alleys and into abandoned basements, never to be seen again -- or to turn up mysteriously at the coroner's only because the body at the morgue looked so wrong.

    It had taken a bribe paid off to the coroner's assistant to get into the morgue and examine the body for herself. She took copious notes, and then had sat on them for a brief while to consider just what could *do* that to a person.

    And now she was wandering the old haunts of the lad who'd been killed.

Delores Klein has posed:
    "Old Haunts" in this case is largely seedier parts of town, bad neighborhoods that have too many gang members and too few police officers even if there weren't any gangs. In a part of the town there's a memorial for a recent shooting victim. A table-sized arrangement of candles and momentos decorates the temporary shrine. Sirens somewhere nearby fade in and out as a police car rushes to an emergency.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Feels just like home, minus the presence of Batman over her shoulder. Phoebe pauses a moment, brushing her fingers over some of the faded flowers of the memorial, bringing them back to vibrancy with her touch.

    She stands up, wearing a black hoodie with no sleeves, an athletic sleeve on her right arm, and she purses her lips, looking up over the worn brick and concrete of the building facades.

    She withdraws a scrap of spandex and cotton from her pocket -- the left sock of DeMarcus Winston, found on his person, stolen from an evidence packet. Who misses their left sock?

    And she draws out her rose quartz pendelum, and goes to try and track his movements.

Delores Klein has posed:
    It takes time, but the sock leads her to various locations...or is it the pendulum...she's led to various locations that have stood out psychometrically in the recent life of the deceased, young man. A gas station. A supermarket. His home address (or at least the stoop in front of the building). A crime scene still wrapped in tape: The scene of the shooting. Finally, the forces at play lead Phoebe to a nondescript door in an alleyway. It's the back door of a fairly new herbal supplements store.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Herbal Supplements. What a dastardly enterprise.

    But doesn't explain how DeMarcus suddenly was filled with tumors and sickness.

    Phoebe leans back on her heels a moment, her gaze looking to the back door as she purses her lips, and crosses her arms. It was going to be a challenge to figure this one out, but it felt needed. It was just too strange a case to surrender to unfinished business.

    So she comes around the block, to the front of the store. She pulls her hood down to look less intimidating, and goes to slip in the business to check out the front end.

Delores Klein has posed:
    In a tri-city area with--what, a hundred million people combined?--meeting someone randomly at two separate places is so unlikely that it might as well be impossible. And yet, at this place connected to the young man in question, stands Delores, owner and proprietor of Klein's Bottles. She's talking to a bit of a silver fox type gentleman, but she looks at the door as it opens. She smiles. "Oh, hello," she says. "You're the friend of Detective Chimp." She gives a wave as dimples form distinctly in her cheeks. Her smile brightens. "Welcome to Klein's Bottles. What can I get for you?" She then puts a pad of paper and a pencil from under the desk up on it, facing away from herself. They're for Phoebe to use.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Oh no. What was the liklihood of walking into Klein's own herbal supply shop?

    Phoebe balks a moment, blinking as she tilts her head in curiosity, the tightening of her jaw subtle before she gives a smile, and steps up to the counter.

    'Good morning!' she writes. Regardless of actual time. 'I was looking for something a little esoteric, I'm not sure if an herbal shop might have the right stuff. My normal route abandoned me :( :(' she adds the frowny faces to show specifically how very distraught she was.

    She does give a warm smile to the older gentleman. Just a normal, mute teenager. Nothing unusual here!

Donovan Rowland has posed:
    Donovan had recovered well. He looks rested and refreshed after his two-week period of unconsciousness, and as he stands speaking with Delores, his clothes and coat are freshly cleaned and pressed, with a set of old-fashioned leather gloves over his broad hands.
    Turning to Phoebe as she enters, he gives a polite wave and a warm smile, glancing down at the notepad for a second before realizing that the teenager is mute. He makes a mental note to ask who exactly is Detective Chimp and surely they are not an actual chimpanzee. Surely?
    "Hello." Just a normal, old guy. Nothing unusual here!

Delores Klein has posed:
    Delores reads up-side down as easily as she does right-side up, it seems, for as soon as Phoebe's done writing the words and starts in on the analogue emoji, she's already ready with her next question. "What is it you're looking for?" she asks. "I can't promise anything, but I've got quite a bit in stock right now."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe gives a smile, looking to the leather gloves a moment on Donovan's hands, and then writes in her very neat handwriting:

    'Looking for high quality extract of digitalis' she writes down, 'along with Asclepias rosa'.

Donovan Rowland has posed:
    Donovan withdraws a pair of reading glasses from a coat pocket and puts them on, peering slightly at the notepad. He doesn't recognize most of it, but he does recognize digitalis and mentally attempts to locate it in the store as he removes his glasses. "I'm no herbalist, but if you're lookin' for quality, you came t' the right store. Ms. Klein here is nothin' short of a miracle worker, with how well the stuff she's given me has worked."

Delores Klein has posed:
    Delores rolls her eyes, her smile not fading. "And this is why I got mad at him for spilling secrets," she says. She sighs and looks at the girl. She looks like she's about to respond to Phoebe or to Donovan before she furrows her brow. She stares out into the middle distance for a moment. "Hang on," she says, her smile's position weakening as her dimples nearly disappear. "Those are fairly mundane ingredients with no real alchemical uses I'M aware of." She looks intently at Phoebe and says, "What are you trying to do?" She lets the 'high quality' slip, since everything she makes is high quality, and a poorly distilled extract could be considered to be 'low quality'. It's hardly a concentration, though. Technically, Tropicana is high quality extract of orange, but that doesn't make it alchemical.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    'Not alchemical, medicinal. Digitalis can be used in small quantities to help liver function, and milkweed is a diuretic. Have someone that is having a hell of a hangover after being turned to stone and restored.' Phoebe writes, and she just gives a bright smile. 'Miracle worker, after all.'

    And the teenager raises her eyebrows, her lips set in a neutral smile as she looks to Delores.

Donovan Rowland has posed:
Donovan blinks. He hadn't meant to spill any secrets, anyway. Clearly this teenager knows about Delores's alchemy, too - he can't help but wonder how far the network goes, so to speak. "... I- y'know, I meant it more figuratively, but- yeah." The old man shrugs, glancing around the store idly. "Turned t' stone? Good grief, that must be a nightmarishly bad hangover."

Delores Klein has posed:
    "Yeah, this isn't that kind of herbalism store," Delores says, dryly. She shakes her head. She moves to the back room through the bead curtain, then pokes her head back out. "Hang on, I'll be right back." She ducks back and poofs for the moment.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe just gives a mild smile to the dry statement and the shake of Delores's head.

    It's not like Phoebe can't distill the items herself, but it was convenient.

    She looks to Donovan with that same smile, and gives a nod before writing 'not as bad as some' she writes on the piece of paper Delores handed her, and then she grabs the pen and paper, and goes to hop the counter and pursue Delores through the beaded curtain.

    Apparently she's not content to wait for her to re-appear! Does Donovan give chase?

Donovan Rowland has posed:
Donovan opens his mouth to speak, but just lets out a stifled "ah!" as Phoebe opts not to wait for Dolores's return, and vaults the counter and heads in through the beaded curtain in the back. "... Good grief. Kids these days," he mutters under his breath.
    He doesn't jump the counter himself, but does close his eyes for a moment and attempts to use his power to locate Phoebe, just to see what the hell she's up to back there.

Delores Klein has posed:
    Delores is in the employee break room. It's a relatively normal-looking, out of date breakroom, and she's got several spice bottles of dried ingredients, pinching out something then dropping it into a tea kettle atop a gas flame. She looks toward Phoebe and smiles, which is an odd reaction. "What's the matter?" she asks, gently. "Do I need to give Mr. Rowland a strict talking to for inappropriate behavior?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe stands a moment in the doorway. Liminal spaces feel safe. She produces the paper and writing implement provided, and then she writes a name.

    DeMarcus Winston.

    And she looks to gauge Delores's reaction to the name.

    She hadn't given Donovan a second thought, though strangely he may not be able to sense her precise location.

    That white tattoo around her left wrist helps block most forms of divination against her, a gift from a caring parent/remarkable demon.

Delores Klein has posed:
    Delores reads the name, furrowing her brow. She looks back up at Phoebe with a clueless expression on her face. "Should I know that name?" she asks.

Donovan Rowland has posed:
    Donovan's eyes widen with surprise as, for the first time in a long time, his powers have a hard time locking onto someone. He can feel her presence in the store - and he did just see her go back there - but try as he might, he can't sense her exact location, or even approximate it. How? he wonders. Nobody's avoided my ability, not in decades. He realizes that there's definitely something special about her, but with little else to go off of and no desire to go back there and find out, he just shakes his head and waits for the pair to emerge.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe's eyes narrow a moment as she looks to Delores, and then she steps into the room, scribbling hurriedly.

    'Investigating how a boy with no history of cancer suddenly was full of tumors at his time of death. My pendelum brought me to your back door. Someone who works in the shop has a connection to his death. Rather not get Chimp or my other friends in Gotham involved'

Delores Klein has posed:
    Delores walks around behind Phoebe and looks at the paper, reading each word as it's written. She walks to the bead curtain and closes a door on the employee side of it. "You know, I like you," she says. She turns the deadbolt on the fire door. "I don't want things to become...complicated."
    Delores reaches out and puts her hand on the pad. "Don't talk," she says. "Just listen." She takes the pad, but not the pen, from Phoebe. She walks to the teapot and sets it down on the counter as she continues putting ingredients into the teapot. "I'm not an unreasonable person," she says. "I don't give anyone anything they don't ask for in advance." In between ingredients, she reaches up and grabs a slip of paper, bringing it down to place it atop the pad Phoebe was using before. "I will give you the information I think is relevant to your investigation if you read this and sign it."
    The paper is an NDA. It's clearly been written by a laywer, what with all the legalese in it. It's properly formatted, and there's space for a printed name and a signed one. It states that anything discussed or observed in the employee room of Klein's Bottles is not to be communicated in any way with anyone else. Granted, in a criminal case, it wouldn't hold up, which perhaps made it doubly interesting, now.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe delivers a 'are you kidding me right now' expression to Delores as she sees the NDA. She brings her her dark eyes up to the alchemist, and then she tilts her head back, exhales in a huff and then brings her forefinger and middle finger to her left temple, and sweeps outwards, casting Broadcast. Definitely going to make things easier.

    <You realize the futility of telling someone who's mute to 'don't talk', right?> she broadcasts her thought conversationally. <I don't think an NDA counts unless I plan on bringing you in on legal charges. I have the distinct feeling there's not normal law written for the involvement of what went on. Also, don't sign my name unless my lawyer and magical advisor are present. Too many encounters with demons and fae.>

Delores Klein has posed:
    Delores doesn't look up from her work. She doesn't think back at Phoebe through the link. She doesn't speak. She reaches down and taps the agreement. The word used is 'communicate'. It's pretty inclusive. She starts screwing lids on the tiny bottles and putting them away in the cabinets. She puts the lid on the tea kettle and turns to face the girl. "From what I've seen, I've more to lose in this arrangement if I'm not careful than you do. Read it carefully. A contract, magical or not, isn't valid if the terms change. Read it carefully, pay good attention, try to think of ways it could be twisted, and sign it." She huffs out a sigh. "Then we can get this settled and get all this noir detective play out of my breakroom."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    <I should feel insulted; noir detective play? A kid turns up in the morgue riddled with cancer that he didn't have at his last appointment and his family gets a payoff. How many times has it happened? I can pull the information from the morgue, run a compilation of the information against sudden bank errors and debt clearances, but I'd rather handle it without involving a whole lot of others. I have a vested interest in the magical community in the tri-city area. I'd rather nip a problem in the bud and find out what's happening before someone further up the food chain comes down.> Phoebe states, and she hands the NDA back to Delores. She's not signing it. <If you had something to do with his death -- which now I suspect you do pretty strongly -- it'd be better to talk about it voluntarily.>

Delores Klein has posed:
    "I told you I don't want this to get complicated," Delores says. "Were you aware that Mr. Winston recently killed a man?" She looks at Phoebe. "No? Well, that's not information /I/ could genuinely provide, as I had no way of knowing such a thing." She turns toward Phoebe. "But if someone came to me in such a predicament, with money woes and facing ruination, and I offered them a way out of all of their financial problems and freedom from the consequences of their actions, and they took it knowing full well what was in store for them--" She lifts the tea kettle off of the burner without breaking intense eye contact with the young lady before her. "--providing proof of all that without the other party twisting my words into something unnecessarily antagonistic toward me would prove...complicated."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe's head cants, and she listens, and then gives a slow nod, giving a sympathetic look to Delores in the process as she comes to her own understanding.

    <As long as you're not half-truthing them and they know what's in store, then I've got nothing to do with it, all I wanted to know. Other than my curiosity on how it was done, but I have a feeling that's a trade secret.> she states, and gives a wave.

    <Nevermind about the foxglove and milkweed, ma'am. Opportune excuse to not break in through the back door.>

    And Phoeb turns to make her exit.

Delores Klein has posed:
    "I know," Delores says, calmly. "It was a weak ruse." She interrupts Phoebe before she can undo the deadbolt. "If you really have a friend with a hangover, no matter the cause, I'm brewing up a diluted potion that will cure it." She holds up the tea kettle. "Detective Chimp can testify to its effectiveness, assuming he ever stopped drinking long enough to use his."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    <Ouch.> Phoebe remarks, giving a slight smile. <Usually I brew my own items. No lie, I don't have access to my old garden anymore, but luckily after a saline drip and some asprin, he was fine and went home... and no, I don't think Chimp does stop drinking long enough. Long enough in the business and I don't think you can.> she remarks, <though I'm sure the gentlemen out there is wondering just why I jumped the counter. I should probably make my exit.>

Delores Klein has posed:
    "If you wish," Delores says. "Hey," she says, still trying to interrupt the girl leaving. "Come find me sometime. I'm curious what you know of Alchemy. It's been a while since I've seriously considered taking on an apprentice, even in the back of my mind."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    <Thank you for the invite. I'm sure you can find me through the Curio to set up a time.> Phoebe gives a slight smile. She reaches for the deadbolt to let herself out, and quietly withdraws from the room.

Donovan Rowland has posed:
Donovan is idly browsing his phone when Phoebe emerges. He turns towards the counter and pockets the device, putting both hands in his coat pockets and sighing quietly. "There you are. Hell was that for? You can't just jump the counter at a store, y'know."

Delores Klein has posed:
    Delores follows Phoebe out, watching her exit the staff-only areas. She folds her hands on the counter. "Our young detective--investigative reporter--whatever her ambitions, we seem to have come to an understanding."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe gives a :| expression at being labeled a detective.

    She takes out what looks like an aged playing card, and she holds it out to Donovan Rowland.

    It's an advertisement for a bar in Gotham City's 'Cauldron' neighborhood, called the Curio.

    She flicks it, and what surely was slight of hand it turns into a business card.

    PHOEBE

    C/O The Curio

    Warding, Ghosts Dismissed, Exorcisms, Occult Research.

    And a Gotham-based cell number.

    

Donovan Rowland has posed:
    "... Uhuh. Long as there's nothin' to worry about, I won't pry." Donovan shrugs. Though there's still the matter of the magic he slightly sensed and the fact that his power didn't work on Phoebe, he decides not to push it for the time being. He takes the card from Phoebe and inspects it for a moment before pocketing it with a smile.
    "A paranormal investigator?" Donovan withdraws a business card of his own from his coat and hands it to Phoebe, then hands another to Delores, realizing he doesn't recall having given her one. It reads, among other things, 'DONOVAN ROWLAND - REPORTER' with his Boston cell number, email, and Twitter handle. "I'm an investigative journalist myself. Retired, but I freelance. If y' ever want some advice from an old-timer investigator, feel free to send me an email."

Delores Klein has posed:
    "Oh," Delores says as she looks over the card. "Electronic mail. Right. I'll have Sarah take care of that, should I need to talk to you," says the woman whose cash register isn't even electronic.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe gives a nod at the Paranormal Investigator. Much better than noir detective.

    She accepts Donovan's business card, looking over it a moment, and then giving it a pocket. She then gives a smile to the two.

    Mostly because the other investigative journalist she knows has a tendency to leave SO MUCH GLITTER around her.

    She signs -Thank You- in ASL to Delores, and then turns to exit the shop, pulling her hood over her head a sa dark expression crosses her face, her shoulders drawing up.

    This might be a bit touch and go for her present mentor.

Donovan Rowland has posed:
    Donovan smiles back to Phoebe. Counter-hopping aside, she seems like a nice young woman. Turning to Delores once Phoebe leaves, he quirks an eyebrow, lowering his voice subconsciously. "So I definitely shouldn't be concerned, right? I felt... *somethin'* mystical get cast back there. Dunno what, but I felt it. Couldn't tell if it was you or her."

Delores Klein has posed:
    "I don't have magic," Delores says. "She cast something. I only hope it's not permanent. She also didn't sign the contract, so I hope she doesn't say anything to anyone else. Especially with the detective's...indiscretion."

Donovan Rowland has posed:
    "Contract?" Donovan perks up a little. "Wish I'd have known. I'm very good with contracts, as a matter of fact. Fae business, you know." He shrugs and heads out to leave, speaking over his shoulder as he does. "Let me know if you need assistance in th' future. If anything, I can make sure your contracts don't have any embarrassin' loopholes."