Cleveland, Ohio is a name that means different things to people depending on whether or not they live there. To outsiders, it is often considered to be the Mistake on the Lake. If there's one thing it's famous to outsiders for, it's finding new ways to lose. They saw losing sports teams. They saw long-held traditions being lost to the chaos of a city that was now embracing a community of magical beings that caused trouble only decades before. Formerly secretive mages, now taught magic classes at Cleveland State and conducted experiments supposedly to better mankind. Vampires claimed they had successfully developed a synthetic cure for bloodlust and now roamed openly in Cleveland's club scene. Werewolves were common in the Cleveland Metroparks, and many outsiders thought they were unsafe. And the news media always played up any magical mischief or botched experiment like it was the end of days. But insiders saw it differently. Insiders saw people of all races gathering together to root on those sports teams, even in the face of futility. Vampires made downtown more interesting. The werewolves solved the deer overpopulation problem and it made the Metroparks a less attractive spot for criminals. Where the outsiders saw traditions of secrecy and separatism being lost, insiders saw new traditions of openness being created. The sensationalized chaos was simply long overdue growing pains. People, magical or otherwise, were welcome in Cleveland. One such person on the magic side was Jerry Maxwell, a local mage who recently started a private investigator business called Moonlight Investigations. He had just gotten out of bed and now parking his wheelchair behind his desk. He was enjoying a pair of oranges and some toast for breakfast. His apartment, though dusty and under-decorated, doubled as his office. Being that Moonlight was a new firm, it was sparsely furnished and contained the bare essentials along with space for his service dog Buster, who Jerry was now feeding. After he finished that, he took his epilepsy medication and got ready for the day. He had short black hair and red eyes. He put on a black sweater to go with his blue jeans. The one thing that made him unusual among his fellow private investigators was his wheelchair. He had cerebral palsy and couldn't walk on his own very well. He was also prone to seizures. His front door opened. It was his business partner, Luna Hawking. "Hey, Jerry!" She greeted hyperactively.

Jerry waved slightly as he made green tea. Luna was a fairy. one of many magical beings that roamed Cleveland and other cities. She had silver eyes and was dressed in seemingly normal winter clothes but there were two things that made them stand out. First, the clothes had fake shiny stones in them. The fairies tended to like shiny things and it was common to see them wearing shiny stones of some sort in their clothing. Second, her black winter coat and blue sweatshirt had rips in the back for her silver, bug-like wings on her back to come out. This was also typical among the Fairies who lived among humans, many of whom struggled to find clothing adapted for them. What was not typical was the fact that one of the wings had been ripped off. By fairy standards, she was disabled as well. She couldn't fly and using magic took a lot more out of her. Not to say that she wasn't capable of using magic. However, she had different ways of doing so. "Hey Buster," she said as she went over to his service dog. "Has Jerry been good? Did he take his medicine?" Buster barked. Luna, like most fairies, could communicate with animals. It was really handy since Buster was typically the first to know something was wrong with Jerry, seizures or otherwise. "Good boy!" She said as she scratched his ears. "Jerry should get you a treat!" Jerry rolled his eyes but reached into the desk drawer and got a bag of treats out, throwing one to Buster. "Of course I took my medicine," Jerry said. Like many people from Cleveland, he lacked a defining accent. "I'm not a fan of seizures. And if you're going to ask me stupid questions, ask me, not the dog."