<Crion> NOW: "I HEAR YOUR HEAARRRT BEAT TO THE BEAT OF THE DRUMS / BUM BUM" -- yes, she does the drums along with the song -- "OH WHAT A SHAAAAME THAT YOU CAME HERE WITH SOME ONE UN." Frankly, given that the little Changeling is at this point obviously pretty drunk and basically just shouting out lyrics, it's kind of incredible how on key and really, very good she is. "SO WHILE YOU'RE HERE IN
<Crion> MY ARMS -- LET'S MAKE THE MOST OF THE NIGHT LIKE WE'RE GOING TO DIE YOUNG!" She's staring at something just above eye level, tears in the corners of her eyes. "WE'RE GOING TO DIE YOUNG!"
<Crion> EARLIER: The knock on the door comes around 5:30 PM, as the sun has made it's way mostly behind the horizon line in Baltimore, propped up by the city's buildings. It's followed by two more knocks, and an impatient third. Then a "Yoooo!" If Maggie checks the blinds or the peephole, she will discover...this is a teen. And what's more, she's a Changeling teen.
<Crion> What's Maggie's door like right now, anyway? Where's she been living?
<dammitwho> It's not really a great place, down at the end of the hall of a likewise not-great building, but Maggie has found she make a place feel homely fairly quickly. Anyway you can't expect much when you're getting paid under the table.
<Crion> "MAGS!" The girl is not quiet, and if she cares about the neighbors it doesn't show in her volume. What's Maggie been up to?
<dammitwho> Maggie levers herself up from a chair ("ah, jeez") bustles to the door - she bustles everywhere - and opens it a crack. "Hello? Oh, hey there!"
<dammitwho> She just got in herself, and was vaguely wondering what to do with the rest of the evening when Samaritan turned up.
<Crion> She stares at Maggie with affected disdain for the briefest moment, then leaps forward and hugs her -- then leaps back just as quickly, her hands in the pockets of her hoodie again. She's grinning. It's kind of hard to clearly see her unless you're looking directly at her -- shouting "MAGS!" didn't seem to garner much attention either -- but her voice is quite distinctive. She's young;
<Crion> college freshmen at oldest. Her mom was Chinese; she's talked about that once, before clamming up.
<Crion> How many times has Maggie hung out with Samaritan?
<dammitwho> A few times at least. Samaritan was among the group that was able to cool her down and give her the 'this is what you are and what happened to you' talk, and it was Samaritan in particular who suggested the name 'Maggie', on the principle that she "looks like a Maggie". Her Mask does, anyway: an older woman, perhaps mid-50s, with shoulder-length reddish-blonde hair. Stocky in build,
<dammitwho> and deceptively strong - somebody's aunt, if their aunt used to be a legbreaker for the Irish mob.
<dammitwho> Her mien is a different matter. She looks like a woman welded together out of old, rusted iron, with small pipes embedded here and there on her limbs - what can unkindly but accurately be described as a pot belly has a thick-tined grating on the front that shows a crackling fire in her gut, making the metal of her body pleasantly warm.
<Crion> Samaritan's dressed in all white -- she seems to like to flout the whole thing about being a Darkling whenever possible; she's loud, brash, impulsive, and she wants you to see her. And right now she's bouncing between the balls and heels of her feet. She's excited. "Tonight's the night. Amelia wants to see ya."
<Crion> If she doesn't get an immediate reaction: "This is a big deal!"
<Crion> Amelia Banthem, of course, is the Queen of Spring. When Queen is in season.
<Crion> *when Spring is in season
<dammitwho> "Oh! Yeah, sure! How far is it, do I need to bring a coat?" She chuckles at Samaritan's eagerness. It's not actually difficult for her to keep up with the excitable Darkling, though sometimes she gets the feeling. that it should be
<dammitwho> "Oh! Yeah, sure! How far is it, do I need to bring a coat?" She chuckles at Samaritan's eagerness. It's not actually difficult for her to keep up with the excitable Darkling, though sometimes she gets the feeling that it should be.
<Crion> "Pffft. Only if you get cold. Kinda sweatshirt weather. We're heading up to the center." Maggie's picked up by now that this is the North Avenue Community Center, an at-risk youth and family hub that is still, to the absolute annoyance of the people (who think they're) in charge of the city, taking up a piece of prime real estate on the east-west road that bisects north Baltimore.
<Crion> Samaritan might say down here, actually, if Maggie's paying cash.
<Crion> That usually means above 27th Street.
<Crion> But below Hamden and the county line of course!
<Crion> Samaritan's plan is to take an Uber. Does Maggie have a car? Does Maggie...know what 'an Uber' is yet?
<dammitwho> "Ah, that sounds nice. What've you been up to, Samaritan?" She does not have a car. She has heard the term enough to assume it's some kind of taxi company.
<Crion> "Oh, just the usual shit. We're in Autumn, so. We don't get to DO much unless we run it by the weirdos."
<Crion> She futzes around with her phone for a second, then nods in satisfaction.
<Crion> Well, her 'phone.' Doesn't really look like any phone Maggie's seen before she got back.
<Crion> An SUV driven by a disinterested bald guy will drive up in five minutes or so. Maggie have any questions before that?
<dammitwho> "Aw, they seem nice. I should talk with that Lauren gal about those new phones, there... never seen anything like it!" She peers at Samaritan's with interest.
<dammitwho> "Anyhoo.. how's this usually go?"
<Crion> Samaritan laughs. "Yeah you should get on a plan. Though man these things are more trouble than they're worth sometimes."
<Crion> She perks up at that. Maybe more at 'anyhoo' than anything else...? "So, Amelia's gonna want to talk to you herself, give you the look over, ask you if you're going to do any heinous bad shit and you're going to say no of course, and then we're going to party!"
<dammitwho> Party? Agh! She doesn't have any hotdish to bring!
<Crion> Samaritan seems to read her hesitancy. "You don't have to dress up or anything! This is for you!"
<dammitwho> Maggie grins sheepishly and rubs the back of her head.
<Crion> The Uber arrives then and takes them to the community center on North Avenue. There's a homeless person or two out on the fringes of its lot, reminding of the structural rot the city in general suffers from; the staff doesn't make them leave. There are a lot of murals; some kids playing pickup basketball in the lot.
<Crion> Samaritan doesn't quite walk through the game, but she cuts through the backcourt, and when it looks like one of the kids is going to hit her she just dances out of the way...and almost falls over, but recovers.
<Crion> She laughs, and waves Maggie up the steps to the center proper.
<dammitwho> Maggie will look around the center with interest; she's never been. Any changelings about, or just regular humans?
<Crion> One or two, actually; there's a middle-aged Beast with a modest Spring Mantle she's never met before running what looks like an indoor tennis practice on a handball court, occasionally picking up a racket herself to exchange with the kids. There aren't tennis courts in the inner city after all, but they all love Serena. And there's David Smitten, looking positively less inviting and
<Crion> engaging than he did at that job fair. He appears to be explaining to a member of the Baltimore Police Department the reason he can't give out information on a kid who routinely drops by.
<Crion> "If you can get the warrant then maybe this conversation isn't this conversation, but a different conversation."
<Crion> The cop leans forward. "Then we get the warrant. To him, and maybe some other shit. And then I'll be back."
<dammitwho> What a strange way to word that!
<Crion> "Hope you're here," he snarls.
<Crion> David Smitten smiles without any warmth. "Me too, baby."
<Crion> "The fuck you just say to me?"
<Crion> Smitten: "I said get the fuck out of the North Street community center before your shift lieutenant has to come get you. Officer."
<Crion> "You know why."
<Crion> *North Avenue
<Crion> When the guy opens his mouth again, the officer's partner takes him by the arm.
<Crion> And the cops...leave?
<Crion> When they're on their way out, Smitten can turn his attention to you. "Samaritan! Maggie!"
<dammitwho> Maggie: "Mr. Smitten! Good to see ya there!"
<Crion> Samaritan: "Nice, with the cops."
<Crion> Smitten sighs. "They'll be back. Not those two, but others."
<Crion> "But hey. Amelia's back in the choir room."
<Crion> "The one with the grand piano." Smitten smiles at Maggie. "Hope I'm able to say hey to a new member of Spring when you walk out of there."
<Crion> Samaritan grins and walks over to one of the big swinging metal doors in this building. Same ones you'd find in an old inner city school, or a prison.
<Crion> She holds it open.
<dammitwho> Maggie'll bustle in quickly then, so Samaritan doesn't have to hold the door for very long. Ooh, this is actually pretty exciting!
<Crion> There's a lot more to this place than just basketball outside and converted tennis courts. This looks like a whole music wing, and she's pretty sure she saw classrooms down another hall.
<Crion> The door at the very end of this cinderblock, paint and steel hallway is propped open.
<Crion> There's music coming from it.
<Crion> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YHDVZ64cxFs
<Crion> And some...muttering...?
<dammitwho> "Oh, this is just nice, you know? Sports and music and such for the community..."
<dammitwho> Muttering?
<Crion> Among it, the only thing she can decipher: "Do you feel that you have more freedom now?"
<Crion> Samaritan grins. "You should see it in the Spring."
<Crion> She'll bring Maggie up to the door itself, but it's up to her to step in.
<dammitwho> She'll hesitate for a little bit, then open the door. She won't announce herself, though, because it might be rude to interrupt whoever's singing.
<Crion> When she does, an older African-American woman who is more beautiful than any model in her twenties sits at the piano in an empty room with the choral risers closed and pushed back; beige and white and the black of the instrument. The singing stopped when they approached the room; perhaps she heard the footsteps? The woman stares stares, unsmiling, at some point inside the piano, long
<Crion> fingers playing beautifully by rote, until the song suddenly ends. The piano faces the door. All the sightlines in the room seem to run to her.
<dammitwho> Jeez.
<dammitwho> That's really something.
<Crion> When the song is over and she looks up, Amelia Bantham sighs and pulls the key-cover shut over the thing's teeth. Then she leans forward on the piano and rests her chin on her crossed arms. "Thank you, Samaritan. Please close the door."
<Crion> In the Mien, the pupils of her eyes are white; the cornea is black. Every way you turn your head, if you can still see her, she draws herself to the center of your attention. And the room around her usually has that perfect Renaissance painting spiral.
<Crion> "Hi, Maggie."
<Crion> Samaritan closes the door, and the two of you are alone.
<dammitwho> "Hi there, uh-" Shoot! She should've asked Samaritan what to call her? 'Queen Amelia'? 'Ms. Amelia'? Does she have to curtsey or something?
<dammitwho> "-ma'am." She finishes lamely.
<Crion> The woman behind the piano smiles. "Amelia is fine. We're not in season, and you're not a courtier, yet."
<Crion> She inclines her head towards one of two comfy chairs that are sitting on the other side of the piano, pirated perhaps from some office.
<dammitwho> Ah, nice. Maggie'll take a seat then, albeit somewhat gingerly - she's worked out by this point that she won't set anything aflame or accidentally crush it somehow, but the first few days were hard on the nerves.
<Crion> How long's she been back, by the by?
<dammitwho> Couple months, thereabouts.
<Crion> "How are you settling in? Samaritan says you've got a place."
<dammitwho> Maggie: "Oh, yeah, I'm doing alright. A little machinist's shop pays me under the table for working with engines and such - I don't know what they were expecting, but it sure wasn't me!" She chuckles. "I have to take the bus out and about but I don't mind that, it lets me see the city."
<Crion> "That's good to hear. That's good." She leans back from the piano. "It was Jackie Ordinary who found you coming out of the Hedge, yeah? And Samaritan who...well. She was Samaritan. I understand if you feel a debt of gratitude there, but I feel compelled to tell you that you don't owe us anything."
<Crion> "Let alone signing on in Spring."
<dammitwho> Maggie demurs with quiet 'oh, no no no's.
<Crion> Amelia raises a brow. "What's wrong?"
<dammitwho> "Hm?" She looks embarassed. "I was just... I wasn't thinking about *owing* anyone or anything like that!"
<Crion> She smiles. "You don't owe us shit."
<Crion> "I just want to make sure you're here with eyes wide open. That you know you can explore your other options, if that's what you want. Samaritan can be a bit enthusiastic. Maybe too much, sometimes."
<Crion> "I want to emphasize that for everyone who comes in here, to join us. Choice. Consent."
<Crion> "The Spring Court of Baltimore is older than me. And the history of the Spring Court of Baltimore is...something we've learned from."
<dammitwho> "Hmm?"
<Crion> The smile flattens out. "The last time time this freehold went to war over itself, it was because the King of Spring used his crown and his mantle in the worst, most abusive ways that Desire can imagine. And that is the thing about desire, when placed against fear and anger and sorrow -- it's the one that can make you complicit."
<Crion> "I killed Mere Jacoby and I took his crown and his mantle. And now we do things differently."
<dammitwho> There doesn't seem to be anything to say to that, so she nods. After a bit, she says: "Well, I don't know anything about that. It seems like a fine place now, is all."
<Crion> "Before anyone joins us fully, there are some classes. It's not because we don't trust you. But you've been gone awhile, and we need to make sure you know what is and isn't acceptable, if you want to reap the glamour of desire."
<Crion> "Everyone has to take them."
<Crion> She leans back. "I don't really do a good job selling the court, do I?"
<Crion> "I love the Spring."
<Crion> "We have fun here. We enjoy life. At our best, we are the ministers, counselors and therapists to our people -- both in the neighborhoods and the freehold. We do great things. We can be great people."
<Crion> "In the past we haven't."
<Crion> "But I can't imagine making people angry or scared or sad all the time."
<Crion> She pulls the cover up off the piano keys. "This is what they call the hard sell, I guess."
<dammitwho> "I don't think I'd like those much anyhow. I have thought about Autumn," She admits. "But I don't think I'm very frightening."
<Crion> She laughs. "Don't sell yourself short. And just between you and me, I don't find much of Autumn scary myself. They're a bunch of puppy dogs."
<Crion> "But I appreciate that you haven't shown yourself out by now. Most thought you'd got to Summer."
<Crion> *go to
<dammitwho> She looks surprised. "Really? How come?"
<Crion> "Honestly? You look like you can fuck someone up."
<Crion> "Summer scouts that sort of freshman, and we...well, we're not in a position to argue.
<Crion> "
<Crion> "But I'm not going to argue. You good with the classes about to hire the glamour of desire?"
<Crion> "But I'm not going to argue. You good with the classes about to how to handle the glamour of desire?"
<dammitwho> "Oh, you betcha. Is that all I have to do, just take some classes?"
<Crion> Amelia leans forward on her elbows. "Well, you have to take them seriously. And you also have to let us take you immediately from here to The Sidereal up in Hamden."
<Crion> "Some gangs beat you in. We party you in."
<dammitwho> She claps her hands together once, briskly. "Sounds good!"
<Crion> When they leave the choral room, Samaritan, who was waiting right outside, will hit Maggie with another one of those quick hugs. Amelia will grab David Smitten from the desk and Gia Eyetooth -- the tennis instructor -- from the locker room. And there will be some cars waiting to take them to The Sidereal, which Maggie understands is the great social gathering place of changelings in
<Crion> the Baltimore freehold.
<Crion> And the Spring has bought it out in her honor.
<dammitwho> Uff da.
<Crion> Here's the good news: when they get there, they don't like, announce her or anything.
<Crion> It's just a giant party.
<Crion> With karaoke on the main stage!
<Crion> The one concession to the woman of the hour is that Amelia has a private booth for them in the corner, right next to the bar and the kitchen with a full view of the floor, and it's just the Queen of Spring, Maggie, and whoever Maggie wants there. Amelia will check with her before bringing anyone else in.
<Crion> Who does Maggie tap, if anyone?
<dammitwho> Samaritan, of course. And Jackie Ordinary, if they'd like. Those are the people she knows, really.
<Crion> Ordinary doesn't turn up until halfway through the party, but they're garrulous and down two beers before flopping down in a corner seat at the table.
<Crion> "Christ, but do I sometimes hate the gobs." They start in on their third. "It's not their fault. So you're in it, now?"
<Crion> Samaritan has...not often been by.
<Crion> Oh, she's around: when Maggie checks, she's by the stage with a boy, or by the bar with another boy, or laughing with a couple of girls near the entrance, or by the front with a bouncer. And she's always holding a different drink.
<Crion> Ordinary is now just sipping after their two beers, but Samaritan is...going hard.
<dammitwho> Golly. Well, she's a big girl. Maggie makes a mental note to help her get home safe when all is said and done, though.
<dammitwho> "She hasn't had me sign anything yet, but I guess this is it!" She raises her beer cheerfully.
<Crion> Ordinary laughs and toasts. "Ain't Autumn, Maggie. You're in as far as you want to be. Glad you are."
<Crion> Amelia laughs and joins the toast as well.
<dammitwho> Ah, and Samaritan's got the Queen herself looking after her too! That's good news, then.
<Crion> Speaking of! That's when Samaritan flits in to the table, finally, clinking her red plastic cup easily and carefully with theirs before just, smoothly sitting crosslegged on the table. She's small enough it doesn't even unbalance it. "To Spring!"
<Crion> "To Spring," says Amelia, smile slightly strained.
<Crion> "To Maggie!"
<Crion> Both Amelia and Ordinary's "To Maggie!"s are fully genuine.
<dammitwho> Maggie drains her glass. Aaaaah, that's good! And you know, it feels right. As long as you take care that everyone's safe for tomorrow morning, what's wrong with having a little too much tonight? You only live once.
<Crion> Yeah.
<Crion> Samaritan has suddenly scooched across the table, somehow without spilling any drinks, to sit in front of Maggie. "Let's do karaoke."
<dammitwho> Maggie: "Let's do what now?"
<Crion> The...DJ? MC? is a changeling. He's kind of hunched over, with two small decorative horns coming from his head; he looks old, but he runs the ceremony perfectly. Harlan Jape.
<Crion> Samaritan's grin widens. "Let's sing some shit! Come on!"
<Crion> She'll grab Maggie by the hand and half-drag her to the stage, though that's easy to resist given she's all of ninety pounds. If that's what Maggie wants.
<Crion> On the way, though, she finishes another drink. And her path takes them by the bar.
<dammitwho> Nope! Let's see what Samaritan's got in store for her!
<Crion> Samaritan, fresh with a new drink that looks like a double vodka and something called 'Red Bull,' leans over to whisper in Harlan Jape's ear. The old(?) man's eyes flick to Maggie and a hideously distrustful look comes over his face, before resolving almost immediately into a broad, facile grin. "It is ladies' night," he says.
<Crion> "Choose a song," Samaritan says. "I'm going first, of course. But if it's not in his book he'll just play it. That's Harlan's thing."
<Crion> The changeling sizes her up, and removes an acoustic guitar from beneath the turntables.
<Crion> "What's your favor?"
<dammitwho> That gives Maggie pause. What songs does she even know? She racks her brain and then, somehow, remembers: "Mary Ellen Carter."
<Crion> Harlan Jape nods like that's the most natural request in the world. "You want me on the guitar?"
<Crion> Samaritan blinks and smiles. "You sung back there? In the past?"
<dammitwho> Maggie doesn't really feel up to finding out if she can play guitar or not. "Yes, please. If you would." To Samaritan: "Nnnnnooo... let's find out if I did it at all before *that*."
<Crion> "Haha!"
<Crion> But there's something else behind that laugh, as she kills the rest of her...fifth?...drink in under ninety minutes. Samaritan tries to hide it, and she hides it well; very well. But behind the pep and the spunk and the bouncy energy, in that moment her eyes almost go black, and Maggie can see in her face the full weight of the young woman's despair. Bordering on nihilism.
<Crion> "Don't worry about it," she says.
<Crion> "The past is another country." She grabs Harlan's beer, and winks. "And the future doesn't exist at all!"
<Crion> Then Harlan hits the track.
<Crion> "I HEAR YOUR HEAARRRT BEAT TO THE BEAT OF THE DRUMS / BUM BUM" -- yes, she does the drums along with the song -- "OH WHAT A SHAAAAME THAT YOU CAME HERE WITH SOME ONE UN." Frankly, given that the little Changeling is at this point obviously pretty drunk and basically just shouting out lyrics, it's kind of incredible how on key and really, very good she is. "SO WHILE YOU'RE HERE IN MY
<Crion> ARMS -- LET'S MAKE THE MOST OF THE NIGHT LIKE WE'RE GOING TO DIE YOUNG!" She's staring at something just above eye level, tears in the corners of her eyes. "WE'RE GOING TO DIE YOUNG!"
<Crion> The song goes on like that for some time.
<Crion> When it's done she bows to the crowd -- who goes wild -- and says into the mic, "AND NOW THE LADY OF THE MOMENT!"
<Crion> "Give it up for Mags!"
<Crion> Then tosses the mic to Harlan, leaps off the front of the stage, and seconds later finds herself with a double whiskey and coke from the bar.
<Crion> So?
<dammitwho> Maggie steps up to the mic, squints into the lights, grins and does a little bob. She'll wait for Harlan to start playing, close her eyes, take the mic in one hand and start to sway a little in the manner of someone unused to singing for others.
<Crion> Harlan shuts off the turntables and takes the barstool he was sitting on and puts it on stage. Then he climbs up, pulls another mic assembly in front of the guitar -- far enough from her mic that there won't be feedback or bad interaction -- and waits.
<dammitwho> "SHE WENT DOWN LAST OCTOBER IN A POURIN', DRIVIN' RAIN / THE SKIPPER, HE'D BEEN DRINKIN' / AND THE MATE HE FELT NO PAIN..." She belts out the words loud and clear, and as she gets into the rhythm of the song, the timbre of her voice changes - like someone's stoked a fire deep inside that travels up her throat and lends strength and richness to the song. "WITH EVERY JAR THAT HIT THE
<dammitwho> BAR / WE SWORE WE WOULD REMAIN / AND MAKE THE MARY ELLEN CARTER RISE AGAIN..." The bottles and glasses on the bar don't rattle when she hits the 'rise again's, but it almost feels like they should. "BUT WE PATCHED HER RENTS / STOPPED HER VENTS / DOG-HATCH AND PORTHOLE DOWN / PUT CABLE TO HER FORE AND AFT / AND GIRDED HER AROUND..." She's in full flow, and the song has a force to
<dammitwho> it that seems to carry the audience along, wild and pure and forever free. They hit the final verse, the one that everyone remembers, like swimmers leaping into clean water. "AND YOU TO WHOM ADVERSITY HAS DEALT THE FINAL BLOW / WITH SMILING BASTARDS LYING TO YOU EVERYWHERE YOU GO / TURN TO AND PUT OUT ALL YOUR STRENGTH OF ARM AND HEART AND BRAIN / AND LIKE THE MARY ELLEN CARTER
<dammitwho> RIIIIIISE AGAAAAAIN!"
<Crion> By the end of it, Amelia is standing and applauding alongside Ordinary. And when the Queen of Spring stands and applauds...well, that's not just because it's your night at the bar. From next to her, Maggie hears Harlan say, "Holy shit. Holy SHIT," once he's killed the mics. Then he offers her the guitar. "You own this more than I do."
<dammitwho> Lord, she hopes they won't ask her to do that again. Where on Earth did that come from?
<Crion> At the bar, Samaritan is grinning. And there are tears pouring out of her eyes. One of the boys she was flirting with is still poleaxed by the song; the other turns to her and says something lame. Samaritan ignores him, still crying, still smiling, kills the rest of her drink, nods -- nods again, and again, like she's convincing herself of something -- and heads for the backdoor.
<Crion> Amelia keeps clapping as she peels off after her.
<Crion> Maggie's choice here is following or staying.
<dammitwho> Maggie will take the guitar. She's distracted by Samaritan so it doesn't occur to her to make an embarassed refusal, and she'll jump down off the stage and follow after Samaritan.
<Crion> Ordinary intercepts her. She's grimacing. "I wouldn't follow them. But then, I ain't you. I'll hold the guitar, at least."
<Crion> *They're
<dammitwho> Maggie hands off the guitar and follows the pair anyway. How else is Samaritan going to get home? She's in no condition to call herself a cab.
<Crion> When Samaritan steps through the back door of the club into the alley, she finds both Amelia and Samaritan. Amelia's leaning against the alley wall, and Samaritan is having a full-on heaving-sob breakdown into her coat.
<Crion> jesus
<Crion> When Maggie steps through the back door of the club into the alley, she finds both Amelia and Samaritan. Amelia's leaning against the alley wall, and Samaritan is having a full-on heaving-sob breakdown into her coat.
<Crion> The Queen of Spring looks over and meets Maggie's eyes. "Not your fault," she says. "Not your fault."
<Crion> "This was..."
<Crion> She trails off.
<Crion> "Not your fault," finally.
<Crion> Rain is begins to fall. It's uncharacteristically warm out, for September.
<Crion> Well. Maybe not anymore.
<dammitwho> Ahhhhh jeez. Maggie will walk over to Samaritan and give her a consoling pat on the shoulder, and a hug if she seems of a mind to accept one.
<Crion> Samaritan isn't quite in that state of mind, so what Amelia will do is make it a group hug, which Samaritan will accept.
<Crion> It takes her about five minutes to finally get it out of her system.
<Crion> "Ah fuck. Ah shit."
<Crion> Wait. Another two more.
<Crion> When she's done she pulls way from them and leans against the alley wall. "I'm sorry."
<Crion> "I embarrassed you both."
<Crion> "I embarrassed the Court."
<dammitwho> "No, honey, no!" Aww, this poor kid!
<Crion> Samaritan: "I...I..."
<Crion> Amelia Bentham, Queen of Spring, firmly but kindly: "You did nothing of the sort. And no Spring courtier will say otherwise."
<Crion> "But I do think perhaps it is time the three of us called it a night."
<Crion> She thumbs something into her phone quickly, while squeezing Samaritan's shoulder. "I'm sending for a car. See her back safely, will you?" she asks Maggie.
<dammitwho> Maggie nods.
<Crion> The car comes around and Samaritan climbs into the backseat first. Before Maggie can follow, Amelia: "Maggie, a final word."
<Crion> Samaritan, still sniffling, looks at her questioningly. Amelia bows slightly, and Samaritan, reassured, climbs into the back of the car.
<dammitwho> Maggie'll stop and turn, then.
<Crion> "In private."
<Crion> That just means close the door or walk over.
<dammitwho> Then Maggie will close the door and walk over. Jeez, this sounds important. "What's up?"
<Crion> "This has been building for...some time. The drinking, the acting out. This was going to happen eventually. It is for the absolute best, I think, that it happened like this." She pauses. "I questioned earlier why you wanted to be in Spring, Maggie. I apologize for that."
<Crion> "I no longer have any questions."
<Crion> And that was how Maggie Bakehead joined the Spring Court of the Freehold of Baltimore.
<Crion> --Fin
<Crion> Samaritan, still sniffling, looks at her questioningly. Amelia bows slightly, and Samaritan, reassured, climbs into the back of the car.<dammitwho> Maggie'll stop and turn, then.
<Crion> "In private."
<Crion> That just means close the door or walk over.
<dammitwho> Then Maggie will close the door and walk over. Jeez, this sounds important. "What's up?"
<Crion> "This has been building for...some time. The drinking, the acting out. This was going to happen eventually. It is for the absolute best, I think, that it happened like this." She pauses. "I questioned earlier why you wanted to be in Spring, Maggie. I apologize for that."
<Crion> "I no longer have any questions."
<Crion> And that was how Maggie Bakehead joined the Spring Court of the Freehold of Baltimore.
<Crion> --Fin