capeandcowllogs | Oh, we do not miss tea, dearie.

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Oh, we do not miss tea, dearie.

WHO: Beatrice, and OPEN.
WHERE: Madame Cleo's House of The Occult (under new management)
WHEN: Sunday afternoon.
WARNINGS: Nada!
SUMMARY: Beatrice is holding a tea party/open house thing to gather customers for the occult shop she just took over.
FORMAT: Paragraph to start, whatever afterward.

It had been incredibly easy to obtain the shop, almost disappointingly so. All she'd had to do was teleport her way in here, create a believable enough mess and paint a semi-accurate magic circle from memory up on the wall. After that, when "Madame Cleo" saw her beloved store in shambles, the stupid woman immediately started apologizing to the "spirits" and shouting other nonsense. That had been enough to tell Beatrice she knew nothing of real magic. True ghosts never accepted apologies.

After she had appeared in front of her, Madame Cleo was so agreeable it was like taking candy from a baby. She even told her where the safe was. Beatrice was going to do something a little more theatrical then, maybe take the stakes out for a spin, but by that time the woman had run off so fast that there was no point. It was all very boring in Beato's eyes.

But, at least now she had a way to make money, and although she despised getting her hands dirty with anything that might be considered work, running the store had proven to be quite fun. She'd gotten rid of all the silly scarves lining the ceilings and the tacky light-up crystal balls that lit the store, and replaced them with some much more elegant decor: yellow-gold roses, some polished wood tables, and, for light, her golden butterflies, fluttering peaceably about the room. It was not quite the Golden Land, but for here, it was close enough to be a very pleasant atmosphere.

But, apparently, the customers hadn't agreed. In the week since she took the shop, only a few people had shown up to the store, and, to her chagrin, never bought a thing, not even a Tarot reading. So, in an effort to drum up business, and hopefully convince Madame Cleo's former customers that just because a witch took over the shop didn't mean the same things weren't sold there, she decided to hold a tea party, as an open house of sorts. After all, what better to convince others to come into a shop than the sweet aroma of black tea? And even if no one did buy anything today, it would be so fun to meet more of the fascinating humans that lived here.

So, with her typical elegance, she'd changed the dingy fortune-telling room into a tearoom, and had placed an invitational notecard, along with one of Madame Cleo's cheaper teacups, on a small table out front. Beatrice herself sat in the highest chair in the tearoom, teacakes and teapot at the ready.

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Fortune telling wasn't Lyra's primary interest- she was no longer able to use the alethiometer, and that wasn't really fortune-telling anyway. But tea... Well, she'd gone out for a walk in a very bad mood, and tea might help cheer her up. So she wound up walking in anyway, her daemon by her side, although hidden behind an illusion.

"Hello?"

A small sign stood by the door, pointing customers to the back. Golden butterflies danced about, leading Lyra to the the tearoom, where Beatrice sat, waiting.

"Hello there," she said courteously. "How do you like your tea?"

Lyra's eyes widened at the butterflies, although dipped into a curtsy before seating herself.

"Cream and sugar," she said politely, "And... what were those butterflies?"

"My magic," Beatrice replied lightly, as she poured Lyra's tea and began adding her requested cream and sugar. "You see, I'm a witch."

Lyra nodded, politely. She'd met witches before, although perhaps not the same sort as this woman, since those witches did not live in cities or run magic shops.

"Ah," she said politely, accepting that explanation.

"Were you brought here by the 'porter?" Lyra asked, resting a hand on Pantalaimon's head and easing the illusion away. If the woman was a witch, she probably wouldn't complain about Lyra having a daemon.

"If you mean that machine-woman, then yes, I was," Beatrice said, handing Lyra her teacup. "Careful, it's hot."

Her eyes flickered up to Pantalamion as the illusion faded away.

"I suppose you were as well? You seem to have some magic of your own."

Lyra shrugged, waiting to see if the woman could tell if Pantalaimon was not an animal-was in fact, a part of her, as she accepted the teacup.

Lyra nodded politely. "If you want to call it that," she said, setting the teacup down and conjuring an illusion- a moth, translucent and glowing, the color of moonlight that fluttered around Lyra's head before fading as Lyra lifted her teacup and took a sip of tea.

"This is good, really."

Beatrice gave Lyra's illusion and appraising look, studying it closely before nodding her approval. It really wasn't a bad bit of magic at all, especially for a girl so young.

"You think so?" she asked. "I have a servant that can make it much better, but he's quite far away now I'm afraid."

"Back in your own world, I suppose?" Lyra said, as Pantalaimon's head peered above the table.

"Funny... Most people here don't have servants... Not like back in our own world," she added, taking another sip of the tea.

"They're missing out," said Beatrice wistfully. "I can't imagine how anyone here does so many things on their own."

"Well, there are lots of machines and technology here that do work" Lyra pointed out, "So maybe they don't really need them?"

She let a hand rest on Pantalaimon's head as the two of them looked up at the woman.

"Those butterflies... Are they real, or just an illusion, like the moth I showed you?"

"Oh, they're very real," said Beatrice, taking a sip of tea. "They couldn't scare people if they weren't."

"A lot of people here are scared of illusions though," Lyra informed her- people were certainly scared of Lyra's illusions, especially the ones with giant spiders and centipedes.

"But your butterflies... even if they're kind of frightening, they're beautiful," Lyra said, taking another sip of tea.

"Thank you," said Beatrice, feeling a surge of pride. The butterflies, unlike most of he magic, were as much a part of her as her own hair, so to hear them called beautiful was like hearing the word in praise of herself. "It does so please a witch to hear her magic called beautiful."

"Ah. So you are a witch," Lyra said, "I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself, have I? I'm Lyra Silvertongue, and this is my daemon, Pantalaimon."

Both girl and daemon bowed their heads politely, before taking another sip of tea.

Beatrice inclined her head to both Lyra and Pantalaimon, looking at him in particular very curiously.

"I am Beatrice," she said. "Now, you say he's a daemon, yes? Is he a sort of familiar to you, then?"

"That would probably be the best way to put it- he's part of me," Lyra explained, stroking said daemon's golden-red fur.

"It's how we were born. Everyone from our world is like us," Lyra said, leaning forward slightly.

"Interesting," said Beatrice, nodding at the daemon. It seemed intelligent, somehow, and she wondered if it could speak.

"So, in your world, everyone is born with a bit of magic?"

"You could say that. Although to us... It's just what's normal. Most people can't imagine how a human couldn't have a daemon," Lyra explained.

"Do you have a daemon... Or some kind of familiar?"

"The closest things I have are these," she said waving her pipe and conjuring up a set of butterflies. "They are, as you say, a part of my soul, in a sense."

In truth, they were often the only form she was allowed to take, and at times she suspected they were her true form. But this girl did not need to know that.

"Really?" Lyra was fairly amazed, "I wonder what that says about you?"

Beatrice cackled.

"Well, it says I'm very beautiful, don't you think?"

"Well, definitely that, but symbols... Symbols can have lots of meanings. It's just that most people don't know them," Lyra's expression grew distant, as she thought of the alethiometer.

Ever since coming to the city, Josh had wondered if he could find some information here that would help him with things back home. Specifically, more things about alchemy and magic. If he was really lucky, maybe he could find someone to Awaken him.

Googling hadn't turned up too much information so he decided to go see what he could find on his own. He figured that checking in actual occult stores would probably be a bust, but he couldn't think of where else to go. So, he found a list of shops like that in the City and started looking. With his sword hidden inside a backpack he headed out on foot to check out a few places.

Madame Cleo's House of The Occult was his first stop and a sign by the door directed him to the back. Right away, he noticed this wasn't your usual sort of occult shop, namely with it being so clean and with all the butterflies.

"Hello?" he said when he reached the back, looking around in amazement.

[ooc: She's welcome to tell that Josh has a super powerful magical object in his backpack if she's sensitive to that sort of stuff.]

Beatrice heard a young man's voice from her seat in the back, and immediately sent out a troop of butterflies to lead him there.

"I'm here," she said, as the butterflies danced around him.

Josh was a bit wary of the butterflies but tentatively followed them to the back of room where the woman was waiting.

"Hi, I'm Josh Newman. Are you Madame Cleo?" he asked.

"Didn't you read the sign?" Beatrice asked, a little offended that someone could look at her and think her name was something as ridiculous as Cleo. "I'm the 'new management'."

She picked the teapot up from it's setting, and began pouring him a cup of tea.

"My name is Beatrice."

Josh glanced around a bit and sad down, setting his backpack close to him on the floor. It seemed like a harmless place, but he knew that could be deceiving.

"Nice to meet you, Beatrice. I'm Josh," he said, pausing a moment. "Hey, you're the witch, right? I think I talked to you on the network."

"Oh, yes, I remember you. We had quite an interesting talk, didn't we?"

Beatrice finished pouring his tea, then looked up at him.

"How do you like your tea?"

"Yeah, about witches," he said, nodding as he reaching for his tea cup. He paused though, just short of drinking it.

"I'm not going to get turned into a butterfly or anything if I drink this, am I? Because I have people that no where I am and will coming looking for me if I don't come back," he said, although that was a lie, Scatty had no idea where he was.

Beatrice threw back her head and laughed. It was a long, cackling, and creepy sort of laugh to be sure, but after she was done, she gave him what was, for her, reassuring smile.

"No, it's only tea. You're my guest, I wouldn't just do something like that to you for no reason. Only weak witches are malicious with no purpose."

And so were those who were stronger than her, but that, Beatrice thought, was beside the point.

"Yeah, because that laughter isn't creepy or anything," he mumbled to himself, looking again at the tea. The tea was probably safe to drink. Probably.

Very hesitantly, he took a sip of it and set it back down. He waited a moment to see if he'd turn gold or sprout wings. He didn't.

"That's pretty good tea," he said.

"Thank you," said Beatrice graciously, ignoring the part about her laugh. She'd heard it called undignified and creepy enough times by now to be used to it.

"So you really know about real magic and things like that?" Josh asked, giving her a serious look. If he wanted to know more about magic, Beatrice was probably a good person to start with.

"Indeed I do," she said, looking at him closely. "Are you interested in learning, young man?"

"I-" Josh started before hesitating. He wasn't sure he if did or not. No, he certainly did want to know, but he wasn't sure if he should. Still...

"I do," he finally said.

This was magic? Or what passed as this world's magic?

He had been taught magic by the greatest of Gerudo witches - and that was no exaggeration, as for all of their...eccentricities, Koume and Kotake were incredibly talented magicians - and most of what passed for such here was parlor tricks, at best.

The butterflies, however, were what caught his attention. Those were different, and no mere trick of the light. Ganondorf stood just inside the entrance, watching one before abruptly making to grab it out of midair.

Beatrice felt a strange twitch in her pipe. A butterfly had been touched. Another twitch. No, it had been harmed, hadn't it? She felt a strange surge of indignation. Certainly, the Ushiromiya's had quite regularly and uselessly tried to attack her butterflies, but at the time she'd been trying to kill most of them. Now she was just giving these stupid humans a nice source of light, and someone had to go and mess with it.

Furiously, she stood up from her chair, and marched out to the store to see who had dared to do such a thing.

((OOC; Am going to assume that he was able to catch it. If this is not okay, please lmk and I can repost!))

No mere trick of light and mirror. It may as well have been a fairy, but there was no indignant cry. Ganondorf peered at the light in his hand suspiciously, wondering just who was responsible-

Ah. There. He regarded her for a moment before opening his hand. "These are yours?" he asked, sizing her up.

"Yes, they are," Beatrice said carefully. How dare this man be so nonchalant about harming her butterflies? Sure, she could conjure new ones easily, but it was the principle of the thing.

"Now, what made you decide to destroy one of them? Aren't you afraid of incurring the wrath of the owner of such wonderful works of art?"

If Ganondorf didn't already know that looks could be deceiving - he might have said something brash. Arrogant. As it was, he knew well that an innocent exterior could be absolutely fightful within.

Especially if she showed little fear of his rather...imposing presence. This was not arrogance - most on the street avoided him for more than his rather exotic looks.

He decided to err on the side of caution, and tilted his head in what could have been apology.

"It was not my intention to destroy it, merely to examine it more closely."

"And do you just grab at everything you want to examine?" she asked furiously. The butterflies, which had retreated to the ceiling as soon as he had grabbed one of them, came back down to float around Beatrice, glowing just a little brighter than before.

"When it dances so prettily, yes."

Oh, look at that. They seemed angry, as she herself did. But...he would offer a true attempt at placating her. Ganondorf put a fist to his chest and half-bowed. "My sincere apologies, Lady Witch. I trust no harm was done to you, but even if so, I ask the chance to earn your forgiveness."

This had better not be a waste of his time, like pledging loyalty to the King of Hyrule had been all those years ago.

At that, Beatrice seemed appeased, if only because so large and strange a man was so afraid of her as to bow. It was an incredibly pleasing feeling, to be feared once again.

"Well, I hope you've learned your lesson about disturbing a witch's magic, then," she said sternly.

If Ganondorf was able to see her 'insight' - he would have laughed aloud. This was but part of a game.

"Two raised me as their son," he explained, lowering his arm. "I have a respect for them, you might say."

"Raised by witches, huh?" Beatrice said with a cackle. "I almost pity you. We're not really the most maternal creatures."

"Perhaps not by normal standards."

He held up his left hand, and enforced his will. Swirling energy surrounded it, violet and black, causing the very air around it to shiver despite the relatively small use of power. A parlor trick of his own - like her butterflies.

"But I took their lessons to heart, you might say."

The energy faded, and Ganondorf lowered his hand. "I am called Ganondorf. And you...?"

Beatrice watched his magic with an appraising eye. It was a bit impressive, yes, and an excellent manipulation of raw energy. Beatrice smiled. She was meeting so many interesting people today.

"I am Beatrice, the Golden Witch."

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Oh, we do not miss tea, dearie.

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