Ask Rumple

Who let you in? Get out.

[askrumple]

If i say Rumplestiltskin three times will you appear in my bedroom?

That depends...will you be in your bedroom in a state of scandalous undress?

[hotcroissantrp-blog-blog]

She casts a sideways scowl his way as she retrieves the pork from the cabinet and roughly hands it to him. “I could drink you under the table, imp,” she mutters. Her lack of memory from that night was unsettling. Who knows that that man had done to her. Some kind of magic… or perhaps he had just slipped something into her drink, had his fun and was done with her. Magic seemed the kinder of the two options. 

“It’s all speculation at this point. I have no idea what details to remember for the casting of a curse…” Every random out-of-place memory was surging forth, and it started do make her anxious. She was ready to say to hell with figuring out what had caused it.

[askrumple]

Rumplestiltskin, though he was busying himself with preparing their breakfast, could tell she was unhappy with the vein of conversation in which they’d found themselves. He was extraordinarily good at reading people, a trait he’d had originally that had been heightened by the curse, like all of his senses. Normally, when a person he was conversing with became unsettled, he continued to push them, it gave him the power, he lived to make others unhappy. But with her--he felt responsible for her and rather protective, and a connection with her other than curses. He changed the subject. “I’m afraid I’m used to cooking for one and my meals can be described as merely edible at best. Can you cook?”

[hotcroissantrp-blog-blog]

“I… well…” Her voice gets quiet and eyes wide. “I can’t remember what happened after I told him goodbye.” How was that even possible? There was no memory there. No walk home. (No cold bath of regret). Nothing. She didn’t have an unusual amount of mead that night, and surely she would have noticed any injuries that could have knocked her out so suddenly. Why couldn’t she remember?

[askrumple]

Rumplestiltskin turned to look at her. “So you’re a light weight, hmm? I’m not the best person to warn you about the dangers of liquor;  I myself am a high-functioning inebriate who’s father named me after a drink.” The imp shrugged. “Perhaps the two are related in an infinite loop of sorts.” He turned back to the skillet and placed it atop the wood stove. “Well, it could be worse. Look on the bright side--yer not pregnant. Well, that’s the bright side for you. Downside for me. You see, I’m often very fond of dealing in exchange for the offspring of fools. Hand me a thick cut of salted pork in that cabinet, would you?”

[hotcroissantrp-blog-blog]

“No!” She slams the drawer and pushes away from him, “There was none of that! We had drinks, and we talked - nothing else. Nothing that must be circling around in that twisted little head of yours. I pierce hearts. I don’t win them.”  

[askrumple]

The imp waved a hand dismissively before hefting down a cast iron skillet hanging above the counter, “Whatever you say, dearie. No need to get so defensive, it’s not as if anything happened between you two that would make you remember him so vividly.”

[hotcroissantrp-blog-blog]

“I’d much rather give an in depth account of the torture methods we used in the dungeon…” She mutters a few other things in protest, but finally continues. “He was slightly taller than me, black hair, brown eyes. Had a bit of an accent similar to yours, a few scars going across the base of his neck, and he tried to hide the fact that he carried not one, but two daggers in a holster on his back under his coat. There, are you happy?! Gods, why am I here again?” She starts opening random drawers in the kitchen, hunting for food or a way out from the current conversation.

[askrumple]

“Well well well, it would appear that admirer of yours is rather suspicious, wouldn’t you say?” The imp slid towards her and spoke animatedly, wistfully, dramatically, “Perhaps you were blinded by your love and affection for him, so entranced you were by his chocolate eyes and raven hair that you simply lost all understanding of the world and threats around you.” his eyes found hers and he delighted in her enraged face and further flushed cheeks. “I’m only here to help, dearie.”

[hotcroissantrp-blog-blog]

“There was this man that I spoke to off and on several nights a tavern. He seemed well travelled and had a dark sense of humor, which I tend to like, so we had a few very nice conversations. He was very interested in learning about me as a person… which is rare. The last night I saw him, he seemed like he was in a bit of a hurry… He wanted me to go away with him, but of course, I said no…” Her cheeks flushed a pale shade of red. She hadn’t had many romantic encounters, if that was even meant to be one, and speaking about it made her uncomfortable. “But that would be ridiculous if it were him. Anyway, what were you thinking about making?”

[askrumple]

The imp waggled a finger at her face and sent her a devilish grin. “Naughty, trying to derail this perfectly delightful conversation about a fellow. Was he the tall, brooding, handsome type? Or short, quirky and funny?”

She sent him a glare but her face was still flushed so it lost it’s angry effect. “Details details!” Rumplestiltskin cried, his fingers wiggling in the air with glee “This is the most interesting conversation we’ve had since you’ve been here, now speak, or has your tongue suddenly been cursed, too?”

[hotcroissantrp-blog-blog]

Her head snaps forward at the mention of possible food, and she jumps up eagerly to follow after him. The last meal she had was a squirrel that managed to find its way into her rudimentary trap from a couple of nights ago - hardly the normal hearty meal she was used to. “Oh don’t worry… I’m not a picky eater in the slightest - a little ash on your food is good for you…or some shit like that.”

Behind the ravenous thoughts of her next meal, thoughts of the man she knew from the tavern kept coming back. “…Would there be any reason for someone to do this to me, even if they didn’t wish me ill? I’m sorry if that sounds stupid…” Her words trail off, thinking the notion rather stupid.

[askrumple]

The imp sent a quick, questioning glance over his shoulder at her. “No, not stupid, just not likely. That’s not to say it’s entirely improbable, mind you. Unless the person was simply trying his hand at a bit of magic and had something go awry, which is often the case with foolish beginners.” They finished their walk through the halls and wound up back in the great hall, cutting across it to get to the kitchen. “Why? With a question like that I get the feeling you have someone in mind. Do tell, dearie.”

[hotcroissantrp-blog-blog]

She furrows her brow and reflects on her past work. “I dealt with problem people nearly every day. It’s hard to narrow it down to one that I might have wronged unjustly. I enforced the law, whether it was fair or not was not for me to decide - surely they would understand that.”  

Her hand fiddles aimlessly with the hilt of her sword as she tries to recall crimes and faces. A certain face does surface, but not one that was one of her prisoners. Before the “change”, she and her fellow captains would frequent a tavern. There was a man there. She shakes her head as if to shake the thought away. Not him - he had no reason.

[askrumple]

“That’s the thing about people,” the imp began, pushing away from the table and standing as his stiff muscles protested. “They don’t understand fairness. The concept completely eludes them, perhaps because they’re all trapped in their own selfish heads.” Rumplestiltskin moved past her towards the hall, rubbing his sore neck. He saw her eyes glaze over in thought and he wondered what went on in her mind, or in the minds of anyone. Even his own mind eluded him so often, the curse turned his brain to briers. Was she remembering something, or someone? Was her own curse ripping her memories to shreds, as his had? 

“I’m half starved,” he mumbled aloud, lost in his thoughts. “I’ll try to make us something for breakfast that isn’t completely burned, but don’t get yer hopes up!”

[hotcroissantrp-blog-blog]

She rolls her eyes at his trickster comment. “I’m fully aware of what you are, but you turn it on and off so easily that it’s easy to forget at times.” Last night she felt like she was occasionally talking to a normal person. It probably wasn’t the best idea to have her defenses down with him, though if he had wanted to cause harm to her, he would have done so the instant she knocked on his door… right? In all honesty, the bookworm in front of her and the imp she had heard rumors of in her previous life seemed like two separate entities. 

“At this point, I’m getting far more curious about the who rather than the what. Who the hell did this to me?” She leans on the table and folds her arms, barely interested in the musings of old wizards. Knowing who had done this was probably the only thing that she could take action with. The idea that there was some secret enemy of hers out there, who obviously meant her harm had her on edge. 

[askrumple]

“Well let’s start with you, shall we?” He asked, lacing his fingers together and stretching them out before him to satisfied cracks. “Have you any enemies? People who would want to curse you? Perhaps a botched mission for his royal largeness the king made some man a widower?”

[hotcroissantrp-blog-blog]

The leap in her heart fell almost as quickly as it had risen. She shoves him in the shoulder, face newly covered with an annoyed expression, “Don’t do that!” They had already determined that she was going to try to live with the curse the previous evening - no need to give false hope. 

The documents scattered on the table contained lots of microscopic scrawling with only a few characters and symbols she recognized. A large sketch of a dragon breathing fire towards a group of shielded soldiers catches her eye, and she slides the sheet towards her. Such a literal reminder of her current plight.

[askrumple]

“You come to this castle to seek help from the most notorious trickster in all the realms and you’re actually surprised when I make a joke at your own expense? Come on now, you’ve known me a full half day now, surely that trait of mine would have become scathingly obvious.” the imp barely stifled a yawn with the back of one curled hand before watching her stare transfixed at an old etching. His eyes watched the emotions drift over her carefully controlled face. Fear, anger, loathing, pity, sadness. He was once again reminded of himself, or a form of himself, centuries ago, when his new affliction had taken hold of him.

He began shuffling the papers before him into a stack and slid the one she was staring at away from her nonchalantly and buried it in the pile with the others. “I was doing a bit of research on blood magic and curses. I know the basics, but I don’t use it often enough to offer reliable counsel on such matters.” He placed a claw on on rather thick and dusty tome whose leather had turned grey over the years. “This says blood magic is all based in ritual magic, while this,” he pointed to a thick scroll with an old wax seal broken centuries ago, “says it’s based in casting magic. They’re both wrong, according to this fellow,” he pointed to the open book he’d been sleeping upon, “who says it’s based in wizard’s blood alone and can only be done after years of concentrated focus.” He slammed the book shut like a dissatisfied toddler, a cloud of dust rose into the air. “Either way, I think we can safely assume you’ve got it rather nasty indeed.”

[hotcroissantrp-blog-blog]

She enters the library and immediately begins taking in the sight of the wide array of books and documents lining the walls in the room. Never in her life had she seen so many, even in the library at her former castle, which paled in comparison to this. The library was a place she would escort the prince to or walk through on her way to somewhere else. When she was younger, she learned the basics of reading, writing, and arithmetic, but that had been the extent of her time with books. It was difficult to wrap her head around why one would need so many.

“Long night?” she finally asks, noticing that one of his cheeks seemed irritated.  

[askrumple]

“To put it mildly,” the imp grumbled, thinking on the long wakeful hours he’d spent and the few he’d slept. “But, fear not, I may have found a solution to your affliction!”

Her eyes widened and she approached him eagerly. He smiled at her paused several moments for dramatic effect before throwing his arms out to his sides for joyous dramatic effect. “There is none!” he giggled with mirth.

[hotcroissantrp-blog-blog]

The next morning, a sliver of soft light streams in from the curtains and rests on top of an empty bed. Silvia was already awake and doing morning stretches on a large rug in the middle of the room. She leans gently to her left, where the arrow had struck and pushes it until the pain is nearly too much to bear. After holding the position a few moments, she returns to the middle. 

Once finished, she leaps to her feet and walks over to the bowl of water, a bit murky from last night’s washing, and splashes a few drops over her face and neck. It was remarkable how much better she looked without the grime of battle and the forest. Her black leggings and top were still a bit tattered and crusted over in places, but even still, she felt like a new person.

She takes the cord of the black sword and secures it to her waist, then leaves the bedroom.

[askrumple]

Light footfalls filtered through the gloom of his dreams like the daylight delicately shimmering against the dust of the library where he’d fallen asleep. Rumplestiltskin awoke like rain; first slowly, his brain scattered about, then all at once his consciousness crashed into him in one continuous stream. He sat bolt upright and to his unpleasant surprise a piece of parchment was stuck to his face from where he had rested his head. He peeled it off delicately with two fingers and placed it before him among the others.

By this time the steps were near, and he noted the gait sounded more confident than it had yesterday evening. It would seem Sylvia Quinn was growing accustomed to her surroundings and her host. “In here, dearie.” he called out, massaging his still sore neck that the morning hour and his uncomfortable sleeping position had aggravated.

[hotcroissantrp-blog-blog]

She pauses momentarily before entering the room and looks back at him. “This is the first time I’ve had a room to myself.” She flashes another grateful look before disappearing into a room with a full canopy bed. It was of even finer quality (minus the dust) than the guest rooms from her previous home. She hardly felt worthy to be able to use such a room. 

After placing the armor in a pile near the door, she keeps one piece in her hand- A slightly curved, slender blade kept in a polished black sheath. She places it carefully on top of the dresser. The mirror mounted on the wall nearby reflects the appearance of an exhausted, damaged woman. It wasn’t like her to care too much for her looks, but she was rather embarrassed by the state of her appearance.

A bowl of warm, curiously steaming water sits ready on a smaller table by the dresser. She sighs thinking it was going to take forever to get herself into an acceptable state before crawling into bed. She finally resigns herself to the task, not wanting to dirty the bed with gods-know-what rubbing off onto the pristine sheets.

[askrumple]

After the door had closed behind her, Rumplestiltskin stood and stared at it for a moment. It had been a long time since anyone had shared the castle with him, and he knew nothing about this Sylvia Quinn, only speculation on his part and her own word, if he were to take that for truth. He lifted a hand and a magical barrier shimmered down against the door to prevent anyone from entering or exiting until dawn when he’d surely be awake and ready to defend himself, if for some reason his new housemate decided to get fighty.

The thought still lingered in his mind that she could be an assassin sent to gain his trust with a plea for help and kill him when his guard was down. It was a perfectly wonderful idea for murdering him--revealing her terrible affliction to him upfront, claiming to have no control over it when in actuality she was a demon assassin who could kill him after discovering his weaknesses. Well, perhaps not kill him. Only his dagger could do that. But what if she were to learn of it? What if she already knew? He stalked down the hall and traveled up two flights before he came to his own room, but upon arriving he found he wasn’t the least bit tired. With a sigh, he descended back down to the first floor library and buried himself in researching curses of the scaly variety by the light of flickering candles.

[hotcroissantrp-blog-blog]

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.” Her expression shines of gratefulness, and she moves to the table to collect the pile of armor and swords before following after him. If he had an armory somewhere in this giant place, she could probably get some of the dents out herself. The red cloak fell from the pile to her feet. Adjusting her grip on the other pieces, she leans over, picks up the cloak and stares at it for a moment before tossing it into the fire. The flames hiss with the new, unexpected kindling, sending embers scattering into the chimney. 

[askrumple]

The imp led her up old twisting staircases until they arrived at the third floor west wing. The corridor was dim, lit with the occasional torch on the wall that magically never went out. The wide hall was lined with doors equidistant apart that all seemed to look the same. He held out an arm to the hall before them. “Pick whichever you like. They all ought to be outfitted with everything you need, limned in a fanciful layer of dust.” 

She went forward down the hall to choose a room, and he watched her movements. She was still favoring her bad side, which she ought to, but she walked with a stern, methodical gait that, despite her cautiousness, was self-assured. Her muscular arms held her armor--she must have exercised every day of her life. He smiled softly to himself. A soldier turned renegade, how very interesting.

[hotcroissantrp-blog-blog]

“I’d like to use it. For what purpose remains to be seen, but I suppose that doesn’t need to be decided right away,” she finishes off the tea, setting the broken cup down on the floor as gently as she can muster. 

“Would you mind if I stayed here for a while to figure it out? I can’t say I have any physical thing for payment, but I’m fairly good at physical labor.” The thought of attempting to thrive among normal people made her nervous. A small chat in a tavern could turn ugly quickly. At least Rumplestilskin was capable of defending himself if she got out of control.

[askrumple]

“Certainly, stay here as long as you like. I’m sure we can think of some way for you to repay me later.” The imp had a number of things in mind but knew he couldn’t bring any of them up without revealing his motives. Rising from his chair, he went on, “I have a number of spare bedrooms, you’re welcome to whichever you choose. They’re on the higher floors, allow me to show you.”

[hotcroissantrp-blog-blog]

“I would love to learn how to control it, but I wouldn’t really know how to use it to my advantage. No king or queen would let me fight for them like this. Dragons and demons are the stuff of nightmares, not for heroics on the battlefield. Not that the battlefield is a terribly heroic place to begin with…” She takes a seat on the footstool again. There she was trying to revert back to her former life again. It was going to take a while to get used to he notion of living for herself rather than a kingdom. Rumplestilskin had obviously managed well for himself, having survived for… centuries, was it?

She feels a small give in her right hand and looks down to see that the handle of the teacup had been separated from its base. She palms the piece sheepishly.

[askrumple]

Rumplestiltskin eyed the piece of broken porcelain in her hand with a sigh. “It’s mugs for you from now on. Or perhaps a trough of some sort.” he placed his cup on the end table beside his chair again and laced his fingers together. “Now, in regards to your occupation crisis, has it ever occurred to you that your past life is over? It’s no more. Ceases to exist. Your new life has begun--what do you want to do? Do you want to use this power, or shove it deep down in you some place, nervously anticipating for the rest of your life the next moment that could trigger it?”

[hotcroissantrp-blog-blog]

Finally she is able to grip the poor handle in an aggressive way and smiles at her accomplishment. “How else would those poor people realize their dream of becoming a luxurious side table?  Can’t think of many others that can do that.” She takes a more controlled sip of tea. “I’ve heard about you so much in passing… You’re a very popular man. It’s quite impressive the range of what you’re able to do for people.”  And just how much you can take away, she thinks to herself.  

[askrumple]

“Well I am the most powerful wizard in the realms, but I don’t like to brag. Except for all those times that I do. Like now, for instance. I suppose what I’m getting at here is that I was afflicted with this curse of mine centuries ago, and I’ve found a way to use it to my advantage.”

That wasn’t true. He was barely alive. Everything he did, everything he said, all he thought was a product of the curse within him. It had shaped him, twisted him into a malformed shadow of the man he once was. Even now, he could feel the curse rising up within him as he reflected with cognizance upon his condition, and before he could finish his train of thought, a giggle bubbled out of his lips, strangling his mind into submission. “Perhaps you could learn to use your curse to your own advantage, yes?”