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 The King to Awaken (Avalon), Snow White, Arthur
Neal Cassidy
 Posted: Jun 5, 2017 | 9:00 pm
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Baelfire
player: Ren
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Soft kisses of electricity danced across his skin, but it gave way to a dampness that was almost a solid being. There was the finest film of water that coated Neal as assuredly as if he'd ended up right in the water. Coming out of the portal, though, was less 'stepping' and more of ending up on his knees in the wet grass. He would love to get through a portal at least once and be able to stay on his feet. It wasn't even that it was undignified, it was both dangerous and annoying. But as Neal looked up, he was glad that he was already on the ground. Mists thick as wool ebbed and flowed in the air, keeping rhythm with the tide that he could hear lapping up on shore. There was a shadow in the distance, in the middle of the lake, but then right before his eyes it was gone again.

Avalon...

For having visited as many legendary places as he had in his life, Neal couldn't help but be in awe every time. From behind him and just above his head, a large bell started to ring, cutting through his stupor and reminding him that he needed to get his ass in gear. Looking beside him, Snow was still firmly held in his grasp. Okay.. at least one person he'd gone into a portal with hadn't left him. That was a plus. Slowly, his stomach had stopped it's twisting cycle after the portal trip and Neal was feeling better. Raising himself onto his feet, Neal felt a lot stronger than he had just a few seconds ago. He was here on a mission and the sooner that they took care of it, the sooner things would start going back to normal. Though he didn't know his grandmother, he did know the Shadow and the idea of anyone being under it's sway was enough to get him motivated.

"Looks like it's Arthur first."

Looking out over the shore again, Neal focused back on the edge of the water closer to him, feeling his stomach give a warning lurch, reminding him that he still wasn't far away from being sick; and throwing up on the doorstep of a heavily enchanted place just seemed really rude. Climbing to his feet, Neal looked out into the Mists as he considered the task before him. Right. All I have to do is to part Mists who aren't terribly fond of parting for anyone who isn't supposed to be here, search all over this Island that doesn't like trespassers for the tomb where I need to wake up the former King of Camelot who's been sleeping for who knows how long. Piece of cake...

Really difficult cake.. like one of those turn-over ones, or something you had to literally set on fire. But for all his faults and all his distrust of the man, Neal was mostly positive that his father wouldn't send him on a mission that would knowingly get him killed, nor was his father one to give someone (at least someone he at least had a passing like of) a truly impossible task. Hard, sure, dangerous, more than likely; but rarely impossible.

Which meant that he could do it. Right now the biggest question was How.

When he saw his father do magic there was always this weird little hand gesture and he wasn't even sure that this required real magic. Looking out over the mists, Neal just tried focusing,

"We need to get to Avalon, please."

Who was he talking to? This was ridiculous.He was being ridiculous. Rolling his eyes at himself, Neal let them fall closed and dug down deep inside himself and thought, hard.

Blood of Avalon...

His father had said that phrase at least twice which meant that it was important. Very important... Without another moment's hesitation, knowing that Snow would have had something negative to say about his idea, Neal reached out with his hands and slammed them hard on a sharp looking rock that was sticking out of the shore. He felt the sand and grit dig into his flesh as it tore and he bled on the rocks, a few droplets rolling down the rough surface and landing in the dark water. As he hissed a bit in pain, he hoped this was going to work... It needed to work because Neal was mostly out of ideas. His next one involved swimming and he had a strong feeling that if he stepped into that water, Avalon wouldn't be the place he ended up...

After several minutes of feeling pretty damn stupid, there was the softest bump that made him open his eyes. Bobbing at the shore was a wooden boat and Neal almost couldn't believe it, someone had clearly taken pity on his sorry ass. Taking a few steps forward, he took a deep breath and made the quiet decision to leave that kind of self-depricative talk here on shore. He needed to be confident, not cocky, but sure of himself. He had this.

Stepping into the boat, Neal reached back and gave Snow a hand into it before getting settled at the back, putting his hand out to push off from shore but already they were moving. So Neal just let his hand trail in the water, almost acting like a small rudder as he kept his focus on that feeling in his chest; the water stung his ripped up hands a little, but he left it there anyway. Looking up he saw the hints of stars and he remembered just how he'd been taught to read them, the months and years that he'd carefully carved constellations and star maps into coconut shells while he hid from Pan and his Shadow. This was how he was going to get to Avalon, Neal had always had good instincts with following his gut, so that was what he was going to do.

Time to wake up, Arthur... we need you.


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Snow White
 Posted: Jun 13, 2017 | 7:40 pm
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Mary Margaret Blanchard
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It felt like her stomach was twisting and she had a feeling of electricity that made her feel like her limbs had fallen asleep. When she landed next to Neal it took a minute to get her bearings. She’d landed on her feet and managed to keep her footing in the dew soaked grass. The scent of it filled her nose and she blinked her green eyes to clear them from the mist that seemed to tickle around her like an old friend.

It took her a moment to get sight of the wonderful island that so many novels had spoken of. It could barely be glimpsed in this thick mist. It was the island of legends and she wondered how the women of the island had thrived for all those centuries. The closest she could get to understanding it, was the convent of the faeries that had been nuns in Storybrooke. The bell ringing made her glance up to try and place where it was coming from. “That makes sense.” Snow nodded to him. Better to get the good part of their errand dealt with rather than the most difficult part where they would be dealing with a person that did not have their best interest at heart.

Arthur was honorable and good. He would be fair and with luck they would be able to prevail upon him to free Morgause from her Shadow prison. His heart was pure and that was a good thing. It would help them and with hope he’d be willing to work with them. When they attempted to remove the shadow from Morgause then they would need a distraction and someone to help her. No doubt she would be confused and lost after all. She might be severely weakened and need a lot of recovery time. There was no way of knowing. “You’ve got this, Neal. There is more to you than you realize.” Snow murmured as she watched his reaction. It was said more for herself than him. He didn’t seem to want encouragement but it made her feel like she was doing something useful.

Seeing what Neal did she gasped, blinking wide eyed at the violence of the cut he’d given himself. The response of the island distracted her as she looked at the boat. Then, with a solemnness she reserved for such things, she stepped into the boat and settled herself. After a few moments she asked softly, “Are you okay, Neal?” She didn’t know what they would use to staunch the wound and she hoped it wasn’t too bad. Her hair gleamed in the light as the staired at the stars. They were beautiful and reminded her of happier times.

With luck, they’d find Arthur and have a hero to help them in their task. This was a good start to things and she hoped it would bode well for them. It was time to wake the King. He needed to help people and she hoped that he’d be willing to. As she looked at the stars in the sky she had hope for both of them.

Neal Cassidy Arthur Pendragon

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Neal Cassidy
 Posted: Jun 15, 2017 | 9:10 am
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Baelfire
player: Ren
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Resting with one hand still trailing in the water, Neal had settled back and he was watching the sky, keeping them on course to the best of his ability, even without knowing which barrings he was supposed to be using. At this point he was just throwing faith into the wind and hoping it wasn't going to blow back in his face like so much in his life already had. The water stung at the cut on his hand slightly, the other one still oozing blood as he squeezed and unsqueezed it gently, rhythmically. He wanted to try to keep it from closing too much just yet, he didn't know if they were going to need it again or not, his blood. It didn't hurt too badly, the edge of it was focusing, driving him on toward their goal. It reminded him he had a purpose here. His eyes flicked down at Snow when she spoke, breaking the kind of trance that Neal had let himself fall into, a kind of peace. Was he okay? Was he okay?

Right now his stomach was in knots from nerves, what if this whole thing went right to shit? What was he going to do if they got all the way to Avalon and couldn't wake Arthur? He didn't even know how he was going to go about doing that. If it was as simple as shaking him awake, then people would have bothered him for a lot stupider things than this a long time ago.

On top of that, he was having the small existential crisis that he was not only using the very things he'd spent his entire life trying to get away from - magic - but also found out that he wasn't just adjacent to it, but that thanks to an ever-growingly complicated bloodline, he had it, in him. The whole time. He didn't feel the desire to voice any of this out loud, however, and Neal had a feeling that she was talking about his hands anyway. Letting his hand squeeze closed again, but making sure to catch the few drops of blood leaking around the side of it on his pants rather get them somewhere where they could later be used against him, Neal just nodded,

"All magick comes with a price." and those were the only words he would say for the rest of the trip to the island.

As politely as it had arrived to pick them up, the boat finally bumped against a small dock that had risen out of the mist and Neal couldn't help but stare at it. As they climbed out and the boat vanished back to wherever it had come from, Neal turned and surveyed around them with curiosity. Everything here was... tired. It was the only word that Neal could think of to describe it that came anywhere close. Avalon wasn't dead, far from it, even Neal could feel a humming coming from deep inside it. That humming had its eyebrow cocked at Neal a little, curious, he could feel that. Looking at all of it, Neal just felt... sad. There was beauty to be had here, but this was not it's full and former glory, this was not all Avalon could be, but there was no one really here to take care of it. Hopefully, after they punted the Shadow out of Morgause, she might want to come back home and rest and everything would start to come back to life, help bring her back to life.

"Come on." Neal muttered, voice low as he started to walk up the trail that led away from the water. He just had a hunch that they were on the right track. They'd need to put Arthur somewhere safe, somewhere where he wouldn't be disturbed. Unless they stumbled on a building that looked like the right kind of place, Neal was going to bet his money on a cave of some sort.

Walking along, Neal kept his eyes sharp as they swept from side to side, taking in every building, every outcropping. It wouldn't be in plain sight, he just had a feeling about that. He'd stolen enough things in his life to know that the best stuff was never the stuff kept out in the open. If there was something nice out in the open, it was often a ruse to keep you from looking for what else could be there. From the little he remembered from the stories, even though there had been several years of rocky history between Arthur and Avalon, that he'd still died beloved of the Island, otherwise they wouldn't have taken him in; his sister wouldn't have been the one to ride with his body back home to keep him safe.

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Snow White
 Posted: Jun 23, 2017 | 6:02 pm
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Mary Margaret Blanchard
player: Merry
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Snow did her best not to distract Neal as they travelled the lake. He didn’t need endless prattling while he tried to sort himself out and plan. She was concerned about him if truth were told. He kept so many things inside himself that she hoped he had someone he could confide in. He looked as if he had the world on his shoulders and she didn’t blame him for being somber after everything he’d been through. It was a wonder he found good things to be happy about. Those were the things she wanted for him; the good side of life. She had faith in him and his ability to summon Arthur. She would have hope for both of them. Things would go well and they would work through the challenges together.

Shuddering she nodded, noticing he didn’t have any indication that he wanted his cut to be bandaged just yet, and if it was needed to enter any place it was probably wise for it to remain open a little bit longer. She hoped Neal would not have to pay a price that he could not. Things were hard enough without having more payments and hardships. Stepping out of the boat carefully, Snow surveyed her surroundings to get the lay of the land. It was dismal and overgrown. The place had been neglected for a long time. Nodding silently to his words she moved forward.

Following behind him, Snow glanced about as they walked the path from the boat dock. Her dark green gaze was thoughtful as she scanned the dilapidated area. Her steps were soft, uncertain what, if anything, resided still in this place. This was hallowed ground and she would do her best to be mindful of that. She was here to help Neal if he needed it. This was his heritage and part of his story. This place made her sad to see it so abandoned. She wondered what this place had seen in the many centuries ago before the anger and deception had destroyed it. When she’d read the stories of Camelot she pictured a castle similar to her own save for a round table with room for the noble knights of Arthur’s Court.

Avalon had always been something she couldn’t quite sort out in her mind. It had been such a mystical place that she’d always imagined it covered in fog and green from the constant moisture in the air. After that, her mind would go blank because it didn’t feel right to picture human dwellings in Avalon. It was a sacred space and even in her mind she hadn’t wanted to diminish its presence. That sacredness made her silent as they walked the path. She was a guest here and she would behave as respectfully as she could. This place felt ancient and she was in awe of it as she glanced about herself. The normally chatty woman found herself silent in contemplation as they moved forward.

Had other women trod similar paths in contemplative silence? She felt as if she was on the edge of something momentous and wonderful and it made her more aware of her surroundings than usual. The flutter of newborn life made itself known to her once more and she was silently grateful for the unexpected blessing it was. Places like this reminded you that everything was interconnected and it was a humbling experience.

Neal Cassidy Arthur Pendragon

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Neal Cassidy
 Posted: Jun 23, 2017 | 11:00 pm
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Baelfire
player: Ren
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It was as if the whole island was holding its breath and there were moments that Neal even caught himself holding his own. It was so still that any noises he became hyper aware of. Had the Nightmare realm reached this place too? Anything could come crawling out of that lake or out from under those bushes. Somehow his heart dismissed this idea as ludicrous, but that didn't stop his head from being on high alert. Everything was so still, that despite having never set foot here before, Neal's brain tried to supply the sounds that he thought should have been going on in the background. Sure, you could still vaguely hear the sound of the waves lapping against the shore from here, but there should have been birds... A place like this just seemed like it should be filled with just a shit ton of birds.

Ahead of them the road started to fork off to one side or the other. Neal completely ignored the side that lead toward the forest, it felt like it was too deep in. Something told him that they wouldn't have wanted to carry his body deep in towards the center of the island. No, instead Neal followed the path that traced closer to the shore, but gone was the stretch of sand like they'd landed at. Instead, the ground rose up to the side of them in a craig, a bit of cliff that was maybe three or four stories tall if Neal would venture a guess.

Here.

There was direct access from the water, and only someone who was likely pretty stupid would chose to try to go down the way they were coming. As the trail led down along the craig, it forced them to go single file. Hard, dangerous, but not impossible. Neal was actually afraid of the day that something came easy, he didn't trust it. Anything easy was usually a trick. Carefully picking his way down the path, Neal kept his hand braced on the wall beside them, not letting it scrape but rather lifting it and making sure he had a good grip in case he lost his footing. Going tumbling down the side of a cliff was not on the agenda today and he was not interested in changing the lineup.

As his hand came down next in the middle of a spill of vines that had clearly over grown at the top and cascaded their way down, Neal nearly lost his footing. As he stepped he expected his hand to meet stone under the vines as it had for the last several hundred feet. Instead, his hand went straight through and met no resistance at all. Twisting his hand quickly into the vines, Neal managed to catch himself before he went tumbling over, but the motion had turned his body completely around and he was now half seated on the ground, looking up at Snow with wide eyes.

"That almost sucked." Neal broke his silence as he took a deep breath to steady himself before hauling himself around and pulling on the vines. He couldn't tell if they were thorned or barbed, but they cut at his hands and arms as he reached up and started pulling some of them down, careful to hold on to others that were still anchored as he did so. There was an opening here. Sonovabitch.

Please be a secret door...please be a secret door...

After some work, it was very clear that there was a dark passage there behind the vines, Neal broke out in a slightly triumphant grin as he didn't even hesitate before he walked inside. There was nothing but ambient light from the mouth of the tunnel to guide them, so Neal's hand went back to the wall, careful about where ever he put his feet so he didn't go tumbling into some huge hole in here.

That would just about be his luck.

It didn't take long to realize that the path in here was sloping downward and not long after that, there was a slight glow up ahead and the echo of lapping water returned. Ahead the path opened up rather abruptly into a sizable cavern, not small by any means, but you could still see every wall without struggling. There was a kind of moss that was growing along the walls and the edges of the floor that gave off a kind of bioluminescent glow that gave off the only real light here. The shadows were long and dark, but Neal had eyes for the man on the dias-like tomb before them. Laid out on the stone was a fit, blond man maybe about Neal's age. This had to be Arthur. How many damn people would be so secretly buried on this island anyhow?

Taking a deep breath to help steady himself, Neal walked forward and did the second stupidest thing he'd likely done today and shook at the man's shoulder. His skin was chilled, but it gave like living flesh, so that was a very positive sign. "Hey! Nap time's over. Your kingdom's gone to hell and your sister needs your help."

Neal was very aware that that wasn't going to work, but always try the simplest thing first, that way it avoids over complicating things.

Looking down at the man, Neal had his face screwed up a little in thought before he reached into his pouch and pulled out the small stone that his father had given him before they left. A stone that hummed with magic, but that Neal had not been given much about his attributes or abilities. Was this how they were going to wake Arthur?

Walking around to the other side, Neal first tried placing the stone in the palm of Arthur's hand. Nothing. Finally he tried resting it over the King's heart, waiting a few tense heartbeats to see if anything at all was going to happen.

Standing on the other side of the dias that held Arthur, Neal looked across at Snow with a weary sigh.

Maybe we should have gone to see the Shadowman first...

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Snow White
 Posted: Jun 28, 2017 | 6:32 pm
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Mary Margaret Blanchard
player: Merry
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Snow moved cautiously, keeping an eye on her footing so she wouldn’t risk falling. It helped that she had a wall that she could use if she needed to. They didn’t have to rush this, it wouldn’t do them any good if they fell to their deaths trying to get to Arthur. Snow slowed her breathing. Keeping her eyes out for Neal she reached out a hand instinctively until it looked like he had righted himself.

“I’m glad you’re okay. Here let me help you.” Snow said, mindful to tear away some of the weaker ones carefully so as not to fall herself. It took some time from this odd angle and it wasn’t the most comfortable but eventually they removed the last impediment to their reaching the cave. A quiet nod met Neal’s grin and Snow shifted so she could make her way down the path. The sound of water was an eerie counterpoint to their journey and she did her best to ignore it. The lake released the smell of the damp vines filled her nose as well as the scent of the ancient stones themselves. Telling of their age and how long this place had been abandoned.

The bio-luminescence did help them to spot Arthur as they moved closer inside. Seeing Neal shake Arthur’s shoulder she bit her lip. Everything she had read was that Arthur was dead. He hadn’t been asleep in the cave it had been true death that had ended his reign. She watched as Neal placed the stone his father had given him in Arthur’s hand. “I think he’s truly dead, Neal.” She said quietly, not wishing to be irreverent in this place. His commentary made her shrug slightly and her eyes began to scan the cave for something they could use.

There had to be a way to make this work. They’d come so far, gone through so much, there had to be a way to move forward. They just had to find it. “The magic brought us here for a reason…” she murmured to him as she scanned the room, “Maybe there is a niche for the item your father gave you…” she said absently as she bit her lip and thought out loud.

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Dr. Facilier
 Posted: Jul 25, 2017 | 4:18 pm
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The Shadow Man
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Now… What?


It was like he had been born under some kind of cursed star. Try as he might, every damn time he got his feet back under him something else came by to sweep him off again. If it wasn’t those damn frogs, it was a damn Curse. And while his Friends were able to steer him further South than Maine, New York City without any memories or magic was certainly downright bullshit. Try as he may Facilier seemed to be playing with a bad hand, no one was dealing anything new and the House was once more set to win. It was why the second he started remembering why jazz pulled at his heart the same way his river ran to the gulf, the retired Shadowman had to genuinely contemplate the parameters of his forced retirement.

It was his friend, that distinction with less capitals and the threat of the other side looming, or more accurately his magic breaking that woke him up. Remembering the who and how of his identity was certainly a shock for the fry cook. A part of him wondered if that was the bitter irony, being stuck doing the same damn job as that plan ruining little slimy headache that was What’s Her Name. But just because he knew who he was didn’t mean anyone else did. For months he fought to remind his Friends who he was, months of scrapping and clawing for any semblance of magic. It was like a wound; skin healed over a splinter and irritating from deep inside that meant he had to rip his way down to find it. It was a price he supposed. And Facilier knew how and why he had to pay.

It was around when he decided to find his way back down home to Louisiana that once more reality decided to kick him squarely in the teeth. He could still recall how the sickly smoke swirled along the window of his ratty apartment before spilling inside and wrapping around him like a fist. Of course…

The one thing he had to say about this “Nightmare World” was his Friends were significantly easier to find. Of course that meant that they were uppity more often than not, and he wasn’t entirely sure that was the best of solutions; but without any other well, that was somebody else’s problem. The world felt like his old “dark” acquaintance and not all at the same time. It was unsettling to say the least, but with everybody abandoning their homes to flee in terror into the night, well finding somewhere to roost and contemplate it wasn’t much of a problem. He had made quite a comfortable den for himself; in fact yesterday he managed to find some stashed wine bottles and cured meats. Today was going to be a day of Relaxation. Recuperation. Maybe even some Rumination.

And of course there came the TUG

Rolling his eyes and swearing up a blue streak, Facilier swept up onto his feet before glaring at his shadow gesturing urgently. ”Yeah yeah, I heard you the first time!” He took as much time as he dared to pull on something more presentable than what he had previously been clad in. Grabbing his hat and adjusting a long lash with a quick flick of his pinky, The Shadowman stepped into his namesake and fluttered off to who knew where. He stayed shrouded in their protection as he took in the surroundings. Narrowing his gaze, he rolled the purple glowing eyes before they returned to their more natural mask of brown.

”Well it’s a good thing you don’t know nothing about life or death, then. But that also means you didn’t pay attention the last time you were in the same situation.” Stepping out from across the dais, Facilier swept himself from tallest pride to gallant bow in a flow of otherworldly grace. His hat spun into his hand; sweeping out in a flourish before finding it’s place back atop his brow. ”Magic also likes watching the uninitiated struggle, just so you’re aware. Though I am of no such spirit today. Tip of the hat, from Dr. Facilier. You called? ”




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.::| ❦ |::.

scríobhaíso... hopefully i have his voice down, apologizing now for the sass but facilier is a little shit

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céilíthe princess and the frog soundtrack

ina dhiaidh sinneal, snow

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Neal Cassidy
 Posted: Jul 31, 2017 | 6:52 pm
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Baelfire
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As if he hadn't already, Neal felt more than a little foolish, he was rarely if ever caught without a plan, okay that wasn't true. Neal was often caught without a plan, and even that one time without pants, but he was usually an expert at winging it. Always landing on his feet so to speak. Rarely was he caught with no plan without even a spark of inspiration on what to do.

Yet here he was, on a lost island, standing in the living tomb of a lost king, trying to save a long-lost grandmother feeling like a kid who'd been called on to answer a problem on the board when he'd been sleeping through the entire lesson.

Namely lost and praying for a miracle. Or possibly for the earth to just swallow him whole.

Rude as it might of been, Neal ignored Snow for now as he prowled around the dais wracking his brain; that kind of negativity was going to get them nowhere. Arthur wasn't dead, not really. If he was dead they wouldn't have been sent on this mission, quest, thing. If he was dead they would have arrived in this very picturesque cave backdrop to find nothing but a pile of dust with pieces of weathered bones laying in it.

If Arthur was dead they were screwed.

The accented voice from the shadows caused Neal to whirl around toward the owner of the voice. His eyes narrowed a fraction as a flash of recognition sparked across his brain, but every bit of criminal instinct in him kept his face a passive, blank mask. He couldn't be sure of much at all anymore. Instead he inclined his head politely and squeezed his clotting hand against his pant leg that had a large spot of blood on it from where he refused to just leave his blood around just wherever. Taking a deep breath and hoping that his brain wasn't too far gone from what it used to be, Neal took a half step forward,

"We did." Neal did his best to keep the surprise at having the other man step out of the shadows. Apparently, this actually... worked. Instead of going to one place then the other, having both their stops in the same place was convenient as hell. Though Neal was very curious how the hell the good Doctor had gotten here, though he supposed if you were in the habit of making deals like this, it was just good business to be able to show up where you were being discussed. Neal made a mental note to start watching what he said out loud again, New York had made him lazy. "We're interested in making a couple of deals if you're able and willing. One for each of us. First of them being, waking him up," Neal jerked his thumb over his shoulder as he half glanced over at Arthur. He could be respectful and polite, but Neal was rarely one to stand on ceremony, "As for the other..." Neal took that same half step right back where he started and gestured at Snow with his hand, letting her have the next chance to speak.

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Snow White
 Posted: Jul 31, 2017 | 9:44 pm
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Mary Margaret Blanchard
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Snow was not overly worried that Neal was not chatty. They were both working hard to figure out a way to solve the first part of the Quest they were on. This wasn’t exactly like anything else they’d experience thus far and so caution was understandable.

Patience was a virtue that might serve them well in this case and she wasn’t going to rush it. She didn’t know what spells this cave – or Arthur, might have. If he was truly dead like she thought he was then he had to have a preservation spell? Her thoughts were all in a whirl as she mulled options in her head quickly and discarded them. Was this a sleep curse of some sort? If so how would the Shadowman help them with it?

The voice in the shadows made her turn as she heard it, taking in the sharply dressed doctor and blinking in surprise. You’d think she’d be used to people popping in unexpectedly by now but it still surprised her how unique each of them was at it. She got the distinct impression she could trust this man who had come from the shadows and it helped her focused on the moment. The voice sounded charming and Snow felt she like she was talking to an old friend a genuine smile graced her face, her eyes sparkling in happiness. He'd been nice to come to their aid and she hoped he could help them. She nodded her head politely to him, feeling chagrined that she may have annoyed him, her face turning crimson from the faux pas, "Point taken, Sir. I appreciate any help you can give us and I'm sorry if we kept you from anything. As you can see...we're drawing a blank on what to do. she gestured gracefully with her right hand to emphasize her point. Anyone dressed as well as he was had to be a busy man.

She stepped forward when Neal was finished and gestured to her; her pale face determined in the phosphorescent light of the cave, her boots nearly silent, as she did so, her green eyes imploring him as she spoke “The second deal being that you remove a certain dark entity that has taken possession of the one who cast this curse of endless night that surrounds all of us.” Snow said respectfully, her hands were folded in front of her to prove she meant no threat to the man that they had come to ask a boon of. She hoped she had been circumspect in her naming of both beings not to attract their attention but had given enough information for the doctor to be able to know to whom she was referring. Even Rumple had been careful in the language he had used and that had not gone unnoticed by Snow.

This was too important for her to make a mistake. Too many people depended on her. Words mattered and names held weight and while it seemed safe to speak Morgause’ name in Rumple’s castle she wasn’t entirely certain that that safety extended outside of it. Rumple had centuries of protections on the Dark Castle, such protections did not exist here. If someone like Dr. Facilier could find them with a mere mention of his name then there was a good chance that the Queen of Nightmares could as well.

It was a sobering thought. She hoped that the doctor would be willing to help them. She had no idea what the level of difficulty their requests were to him but she hoped he’d be willing to assist them. He was the best chance they had for ending this curse.

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Dr. Facilier
 Posted: Nov 13, 2017 | 10:35 pm
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The Shadow Man
player: NPC Account
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Gritting his teeth a little at the look the boy he remembered frequented his bar back in the Big Apple, Facilier bluntly responded to the unspoken question. ”You used my name, hiccup, in a place saturated with magic much like my own bones are. How’s a body supposed to ignore a door once someone comes knocking?” It was cool, if not a touch chiding. ”As for deals and promises, I am always willing if not but for a price. And more than able, thank you very much.” He chuffed under his breath, a touch insulted by the displaced lost boy and his assumptions of capabilities.The good doctor pulled a deck of tarot out from a pocket of his silken jacket, casually rolling and shuffling the cards back and forth across each palm. Stopping to flash a single card from the Major between his second and third finger, with a flick of his wrist to show the image to the pair before him.



The Emperor




Proud and true painted in gouache was held up in front of his right eye, the other cooly calculating the pair before him before tucking it back into the deck. ”Waking a dead man from his slumber… that isn’t cheap. Or without impressive value in trade.” While he was a bit miffed at the boy, it was the girl now queen who he made sure to smile broadly at. After all, it was suicide to make oneself an enemy of a queen. Especially this particular bandit. ”Darling, you aren’t keeping me from anything save a boring evening.” As she spoke, his eyes shined for a moment with a violet light from within. With the ceremony befitting any New Orleans showman, Facilier gestured for the pair to follow him over to one of the flat hip tall rocks along the back of the cave. It put the dead but sleeping king in the foreground as long fingers pulled three cards, laying each face down upon the stone before spreading the rest of the deck out in a semi circle around it. ”Now a Dark Entity… that’s significantly more vexing than just a dead man. King or no. I’ll help you, little snowflake. You’re a queen. It’s only good and proper after all. You know I’m royalty myself on my mother’s side?” His smile was cat like, playful and designed to be relaxing. It was important to get them to relax now, especially after the cards were shuffled and dealt. Made things easier. ”Besides, I need sunshine. This red moon and darkness is wrecking havoc on my skin.” His shadow moved independently of himself, bowing to genuflect to the woman and gesturing for her companion where to stand. Graceful hands reached out for the cards turning the first over with a measured poise.



The High Priestess




The gouache shifted, the first blonde then rapidly darkening haired woman aged from playful young maiden to dignified and regal pregnant capable woman until twisting into herself curling up on the ground a broken and lost almost crone. ”You’re talking about Sidhe of the Fae. And I do mean the more magic meaning of that word “sidhe”; though the double meaning certainly does tickle my fancy. Poor thing, lost her way to a lost boy king. And found herself swept up into something so much larger than herself. Poor dear. Poor thing.” He tsked under his breath, shaking his head with a compassionate if not pitying look upon his face. ”So many people think they know her story and half the time they can’t even get her name straight. But it’s not Morgan le Faye that’s the problem here. No… it’s what’s skin deep that you’re concerned about. Or at least should be.” He chose to say that old name of hers, knowing that out of all of her aliases and roles perhaps the thing that corrupted her had yet to find her core of cores dating back to Avalon itself. Facilier reached out once more, flipping the second card with the same reverence and prestige as the previous card.



The Devil




”Old Scratch, ain’t that always the way? But this isn’t about no Christian Devil. No this wicked little monster is all green eyes and much older than a fallen angel. The Shadow eats at her heart like a cancer. Just like it did on her trickster love.” The normal countenance of the devil depicted on the card immediately shifted to a blacked silhouette of Pan with glowing eyes of similar purple lighting to his own. This time though, the figure shifted to the face of the card until all that was displayed were his eyes, and the feeling that it could distinctly see the pair of questioning adventurers. ”But you’re lucky you were sent to me. And they don’t call me The Shadowman for nothing. I can trap a shadow into a vessel, easy as you please. But there’s one thing you’re gonna need…” He wanted a moment, for the moment to thicken and the anticipation to grow before one final time revealing a card.



The Lovers




The pair on the card were separated by a wall of crystal and shadow, interwoven into a braid. The black haired High Priestess was still crumpled up on the ground with her hands ripping at her hair as the golden haired Emperor slammed his fists against the wall that separated them in desperation, obviously shouting something repeatedly. Perhaps her name?

”Whoever sent you to me is a clever sort of devil in and of themselves. I can help you, but nothing is free and magic least of all. It has a price and one that must be worthy of the favor asked. Now then, Lost Boy; the man you wish to awaken was a king felled by his kin. Ain’t nothing worse than kinslaying, is it? Though I suppose Kingslaying while kinslaying takes the cake. A murdered King and the Shadow possessed Queen to be free of the creature within. All within my power. Then we have ourselves a deal. But first…” The three cards were swept up by his left hand before being tucked into his pocket with a flourish. Standing tall, the Shadowman held out two hands, crossing them at the wrist to offer them to both of the questing heroes.




”Well come now, won’t you shake a poor sinner’s hand?”






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