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@piiixiedcst
Ask - Muses - Rules - Open Starters
A break sounded nice. Leonard squeezed Dr. Hopper's hand before letting go, leaning back against his padded wall. A change in direction sounded nice, and already his headache was easing.
"Leaving? You mean, outside of the hospital?" All he'd seen of the outside world for as long as he could remember was the tiny, barred window near the ceiling of his room. He could see a bit of sunlight and a metal pole. At night, light would still flood his room from that pole, likely meant to keep a parking lot illuminated. It made it so hard for him to sleep. He'd wanted to move for a long time.
"Do you really think I'm ready? I ... well I'd listen really well! I don't remember a lot of things, but you'll help me, right? Once I remember how to cook again I could do really well on my own, I know I could!" Until then, he'd need help with food. But Dr. Hopper would have thought of that. He'd make sure Leonard was taken care of.
"Please, can I really? I don't have family, or money. Not that I remember anyway. Is there really a place for someone like me out there?"
Archie couldn't help a bit of a smile at Leo's eagerness towards the idea. He would've understood completely if the prospect seemed to soon or too daunting to someone in his position, having been in isolation for three decades and awash with confusing, conflicting memories that the breaking of the curse had seemingly only worsened- but at the same time, his desperation to be free made perfect sense too, and it was exactly what Archie had been hoping for all this time.
"Yes, Leo, I think it's time," he assured, not adding that he thought it was time long ago, that this isolation was inhumane for anyone, let alone a former beloved ruler that had brought prosperity to the land for decades. "You won't have to worry about any of the specifics, I'll have everything in hand- and, if it's alright with you, you'll be under the constant care and supervision of a professional, including myself. There will be no pressure to do anything you're not ready for; as always, we'll take it all one step at a time. I really do think this will make all the difference in clearing your mind."
The only troublesome matter left was to figure out where, exactly, Leo would go. Archie had considered his own home, of course, but felt that might be a conflict of interest with Leo being his patient. There was someone else though, another professional Archie knew quite well, that he felt might be up to the task. Whether or not he'd be willing was another matter entirely.
"I need just one day's time to get everything in order for your release. In the meantime, is there anything in particular you'd like to have at your new residence, for the sake of comfort or familiarity?"
Which, he knew, might be a moot point considering what constituted as 'familiar' for Leo might be conflicting and confusing, but Archie felt it worth asking all the same.
Now it was Killian's turn to circle the other 'Hook' taking both the older pirate in and his surroundings. He listened and he observed, deciding on whether or not to attack this imposter. No, not imposter. More like another version of himself. The future? No, that accent was far too english and his hair was not curly. Then he got his answer, a crocodile did in fact take this Hook's, though in the literal sense. A beast lurking in the water searching for him.
"My croc takes the form of a scaled man. A coward that was a weak and pathetic man that turned to magic and became corrupted and an evil sorcerer. Arguably far more dangerous than a wild animal." Killian explained and let his hand leave his sword so he could turn away from the other pirate to caress the railing of this ship. He knew every inch of the Jolly Roger, this was not her.
When the other captain suggested an alliance he turned back to face him. Lips parted to say something but his words caught in his throat as he stared past the older pirate at the island the laid on the other side of the ship. A glint of frustration and anxiety crossed his expression. "If that's Neverland behind you then you're in luck, I know how to get away from here. "
A scaled...man? A scaled man sorcerer? How curious, James thought to himself. He felt the younger composite's account that a man, even one with supposed magical abilities, was much more fearsome than the huge actual crocodile he knew was a dubious one at best, but he thought better of saying so. After all, the younger Hook might indeed get to see the beast and decide for himself before their acquaintance had reached its end. Perhaps so too would James get to see his sorcerer.
That seemed even more likely as he watched the younger Hook survey the ship with what seemed to be an air of disappointment, as though reaching for the familiar and finding instead something entirely different. As he seemed without his own vessel he'd really have no choice but to accept the offer of alliance. For this reason, and perhaps in some measure because of the odd, undeniable similarities between them, James chose not to take advantage of the fact that the younger man had turned his back to him. Such an unfounded sense of trust. It was almost endearing.
James was doubly grateful he did not take any impulsive, violent action when the younger Hook revealed a key piece of knowledge he hadn't been anticipating, freezing him, for a moment, near dead in his own tracks.
"Do you now...?" he asked, trying in vain to hide his own eagerness. It had been a gargantuan effort to finally escape the binds of Neverland's harbor, but now they sat, once again, frozen in place just some paces away- trapped, all over again, seemingly all his efforts for naught. But if anyone was going to know how to actually escape the clutches of this prison, it would be someone of his own ilk, wouldn't it? Someone who, to an extent anyway, was him.
"And here I thought you had already sufficiently peaked my interest," James commended him in that charming, snake-like way he had perfected over his long life, sauntering over to stand beside the younger Hook at the railing. "Perhaps 'twas fate after all that we should find each other- I can offer passage to find your Jolly Roger, and you, Hook, can help me escape. But, please, do explain 'how' we'll accomplish this. I'm ever so intrigued."
A true sentiment, even as much as James was laying on the charm as thick as he could. He knew the boy couldn't have been lying, being that he must have escaped his own 'Neverland' to now be here, missing his ship. Perhaps he had discovered something in his travels, in some other land where crocodile sorcerers abound.
PSA: Stay out of RP tags for a while.
For the uniformed, over the previous week there have been sock accounts that have indeed been posting shock images of irl gore of a variety of subjects in the tags. Even if that doesn't make you personally squeamish, the clear intent is to expose people to it to potentially trigger / traumatize them. The tags they're spamming with these images range from 'oc rp' to outright '(fandom) rp'. While other blogs have been informing people of these accounts to block, and thankfully tumblr staff appears to be taking the blogs down within a 24 hour timespan, the fact that as of writing this person (or a copycat) is on their third blog and probably won't stop. And if they do, it might just be for a short period of time to get people's guards down. The best way to avoid this is, for the time being, stop browsing rp tags for a while and try to stick with the dashboard. On top of that, while I imagine it is tempting to commentate on these situations, outside of telling people the new URL to block, simply try to continue to use your blog as normal. Don't feed the troll, especially when this is a blatant case of using 'shock images' to elicit a reaction out of a niche community. The 'person' will get bored or realize that their blogs will continue to get banned eventually. PS. If you're concerned that you may get stuff sent directly to you, remind yourself of tumblr's safety features and how if a non-mutual tries to send you an image, it will be blurred out. You are safe as long as you stay out of the tags and avoid the 'for you' page (I'd recommend blacklisting popular rp tags if you feel exceptionally antsy about this situation).
Dr. Hopper always knew how to advise him. Leonard took a few, deep breaths, letting the calming presence help him calm down. He pulled a bit at his hospital gown's sleeves to help ground him.
Things were changing? What could have everyone confused and yet be a good thing? Leonard couldn't figure it out on his own, but he trusted Dr. Hopper. He always had, or at least he had for as long as he could remember.
"Okay. I trust you Dr. Hopper." Slow sounded nice. It sounded like less of a headache anyway.
He closed his eyes so he could focus, trying to figure out what else he could remember. "It's mostly my daughter. I can see her smile. I can feel her hair, like I'm patting her head. I ... I think I called her Snow. Must be a nickname. Maybe she liked winter."
It felt odd to see her in that dress, but Dr. Hopper was saying that was fine, it wasn't regressing. That was okay.
"I remember ... I remember not wanting to talk about memories. Being scared. I don't know why." Dr. Hopper was right here, so it was okay to think harder.
He could see a woman standing in front of him. A queen, his brain said. Her hands reached to either side of his head, and he tried to pull away, He was trapped, chained to a chair sitting up. When she touched him, he could feel a headache growing.
He could hear her yelling, and he opened his eyes, grabbing for Archie's hand in a desperate attempt to make those horrible feelings go away.
"There was a woman. A ... a queen. She was using magic. She wanted my memories. I can't think anymore Dr. Hopper, it hurts. My head hurts. It hurt then too." He wanted to figure out what she'd wanted to know, but thinking hurt too much, and Dr. Hopper had said he could take it slow.
"It doesn't sound ... crazy does it? A queen, magic ... it sounds so weird. Like another world."
Archie already knew, no matter how slow they took these pushes to remember, that it was going to be strain on Leo. It was a lot to ask and in many ways (even within the world of psychology as he'd known it) they were navigating uncharted waters here. There were no studies he could reference on what kind of trauma these exact circumstances could have on the mind after all, so he'd had to suffice himself on those that got close to similar cases of memory loss and reacquisition.
Ultimately, he reckoned it might be a bit like exercising a muscle, like physical therapy for the mind, so to speak. As such, he didn't expect Leo to be perfectly restored after one session or even, as the case may be, several dozens more, but slowly, over time, perhaps they could put the pieces of this puzzle back together.
Things started to take a turn for the worst when Regina entered back into Leo's recollection. Archie took his hand when it extended towards him, held it solidly and firmly to hopefully give a physical reminder that he was safe now, that nothing and no one could hurt him the same way again.
"No, not at all," Archie reassured him to the question of whether it sounded crazy or not (a word he personally discouraged with most of his patients, but in Leo's case it made sense he'd view it as such). "You've done wonderfully- and, again, I assure you this isn't a regression. Let's take a break with the recollections for now though, alright? I know this isn't easy."
As much as he wanted to reaffirm what Leo was recalling, it felt far too soon to do so, too much of a strain on an already blurred conception of reality- and, more to the point, Archie didn't want to lose his trust. For now, he'd just assure and encourage, and leave the big reveals for when they'd reached a more stable point.
Which...as he'd felt like for years now, wouldn't happen in this padded isolation.
"Leo, I have another question for you. I think this one will be a bit easier." He looked his patient in the eyes as he asked squarely, "How would you feel about leaving this place? Maybe going somewhere with a bit more comfort and, if you'd like it, more freedom? I know it might not feel like it right now, but you're making enormous strides forward and I don't feel like this room is appropriate placement for you to keep making progress. This decision is entirely up to you though, I promise."
Archie felt it was important Leo knew this, that for as much he'd like to move his patient to somewhere more humane immediately, that said patient still had complete control over the choice. Changing Leo's scenery would be a bit of an upheaval for him, Archie knew, and something of a risk, but nothing was going be accomplished in prison-like isolation either.
"If you do decide to move, rest-assured that I will be with you every step of the way. We'll continue to work together regularly and I think...things will begin to become much clearer in a healthier environment. What do you think?"
Snoballs were an excellent form of bribery. One drawer in his desk was dedicated to establishing a hoard, just in case Mary Margaret ever found out he had broken his vow (not a promise, not a dwarven oath, not anything remotely enforceable) to be more mindful of his cholesterol and blood pressure. "Oh, i've got a fantastic supplier..." His hand reached out to snatch the sugary sweet indulgence and pop it into his tweed jacket. Hand off complete. "You're my favorite..." Doc had to pause and stare at Emma for a moment. They never had a chance to figure that out. The seven of them had carved and fashioned toys alongside Geppetto and wondered what names Emma would call them all. "You're my favorite something. I will never tell her. Besides, I'd get in more trouble than you. She's got me promising I'll eat better." There was a mischievous cackle that tapered off immediately into a look of guilt. Reaching back into his pocket, Arthur presented Emma with the two snack cakes. "You want to do an old dwarf a favor? I never got a chance to supervise any princess tea parties or princess dragon slayings for you. You, uh, wanna share this one with me?" He shook the package, causing some of the coconut flakes to fly around the package. "C'mon. We can sit on the hood of my miata. Every witch, giant, and who the hell knows what already does."
Apart from obviously never knowing a sense of true 'family' before now, Emma had never really had any actual stable 'older adult' figures in her life- none that she'd known very long, anyway. The life of a foster child, at least in her case, meant moving around constantly, never recognizing any one place as 'home', learning early on not to form bonds with people she could be ripped away from at a moment's notice and never see again. The trauma of that still lingered in the walls she put up with most everyone she met, never too close, never too attached, always at least a few steps back.
Naturally, this crazy, sudden Storybrooke chapter of her life meant getting a crash course in learning how to make those bonds and let herself feel secure in them, but even now it was still often difficult to do so, like learning how to ride a bike for the first time. It would be easier to run, to put up those walls again and sequester herself somewhere safe, away from others who could leave or disappoint or lie.
But then there was Doc. Arthur. She didn't know quite what it was, but there was something to him, to their growing bond that never felt that 'scary'. There was an ease to it, like she'd known him her entire life and had long ago grown secure in the fact that he'd always be there, as though (or at least what she imagined) a loving grandfather or uncle. There was something about being around him that made her lonely, suspicious inner-child less so. Not superior necessarily, but it was different to the other relationships she was trying to kindle in this 'new' place.
"You're my favorite something too," she admitted with a grin, accepting the sugary gift as well as the offer of a seat on the Miata hood (though still, delicately, as she was pretty sure he'd just gotten the last dent buffed out). "Maybe next time we can get some tea from Granny's to go with it- catch up on at least one of those milestones. No promises on the princess dress...unless you wear one too."
His mention of missed opportunities reminded her of the rather sad fact that he probably would've been like an uncle or grandfather or both at the same time much earlier on, had the curse not come to pass and her life had been a completely different one. A better one, no doubt, but then...she, too, would've been a very different person by now as well, someone she probably wouldn't even recognize.
"I dunno...do you think you'd have liked me as much if I'd grown up, y'know...the way I was meant to?" It was an intrusive thought she'd been having more and more since the reality of her birth had come to light, and he was easily the only one she felt comfortable enough sharing it with. "A spoiled little princess? With perfect poise and prose, no salty quips?"
She took a contemplative bite of her snoball before confessing further, "Honestly...I'm not sure I would've liked me that much."
Henry frowned. In all the chaos with the curse breaking and Henry reuniting with his family, he'd forgotten abut Graham's death. He felt a twinge of guilt for forgetting so quickly. He had the book. He was supposed to remember all their stories when they couldn't, and yet he'd forgot about the brave huntsman.
"I ... told him to go to the vault," Henry whispered, clutching his backpack to his chest. "I told him that was where his heart was. That's how she found out he was waking up." Was it partially his fault that Graham had died?
That thought was all the more reason why he had to be brave now. They had to get the hearts before Regina decided someone else was in her way.
Emma's hand on his shoulder reassured him. Henry followed her out of the car, slinging his backpack onto his shoulder and trying to look brave. He could have done this alone, if he'd had to, but Emma being with him made it so much easier. Henry followed close behind her, using her as a sort of shield from the creepy fog.
Henry stopped to ponder his mother's question, tilting his flashlight up toward the roof of the mausoleum. "That's the same symbol that was above the Evil Queen's vault of hearts. This has to be the place," Henry insisted. As for where exactly the hearts were, he wasn't sure.
"Let's look around. How long did you have to look last time? They might be really hidden." Henry pushed open the door himself, more scared of the graveyard than his mother's vault. Death was something he'd only experienced when Graham had passed, but magic was something he was well versed in.
He looked around, letting the flashlight's beam follow his gaze. Everything looked normal at first, and he frowned, until he shown his light on the floor. "Mom, look! Scuff marks!" He put the flashlight in his pocket, the beam of light hitting his shoulder and the roof as he started to push at the fake tomb. The light wobbled as he managed to make it move a bit. "This has gotta be it! Help me move it!"
Emma followed Henry's lead entirely as they opened and entered the creepy vault (for her, anyway, even creepier than the cemetery itself- but she really had no idea just how creepy it would become in a few short minutes).
"Well...not super long..." she replied to Henry's question as she scanned the area with her flashlight, searching for a hidden switch or trapdoor or some indication of another storage room. "Long enough that Graham and I determined there couldn't be any hearts here...at least, not in this part. But I bet your detective skills will uncover some-"
She was cut off by the very thing she lauded him for, as it was then that Henry revealed scuff marks near the center tomb.
"Hokaaay, little Sherlock Holmes!!" she grinned, genuinely impressed. "That eluded me and the former Sheriff. You might have a future in detective work."
She did as Henry instructed, even as the tomb looked far too heavy to budge even under the strength of both of them together. That heaviness was clearly deceptive, as with a little bit of combined effort it began to give way towards a staircase leading down to a lower portion of the vault. That was when she heard it.
"Is that-...?" The words caught in her throat. Thump. Thump. Thump thump thump. A rhythmic, almost synchronous beating, like a million bass drums repeating in tandem. "Holy sh-....crap. That can only be one thing..."
She exchanged a look with Henry before assuring him, "I'll go first..." and then easing her way down the stairs, finding that the sound got louder and louder still...until they were both on the ground floor and could easily see what looked like dozens of little safety deposit boxes, all of them resonating with those tell-tale thumps.
"Oh my god..." she gasped, flicking her flashlight over each box as she'd done earlier upstairs. It wasn't that she hadn't believed Henry when he told her this vault would contain dozens, maybe hundreds, of hearts (at this point she'd believe anything he told her, having already learned her lesson from second-guessing him before) but more that she hadn't been prepared for the horrifying reality of it all. "They're alive and beating...? This is...grotesque..."
Who all had Regina stolen vital organs from?? How many people up top were walking around with hearts, completely at her whim?
Emma shook her head to try to overcome the shock and regain some urgency. Those people were counting on them and they had a job to do- fast. Even with Henry here there was no telling what Regina might do to stop them if she showed up.
"Okay...okay. I guess we'd better get to collecting these..."
She dared to take one of the boxes out of their slots, to get a better idea of how many she could carry in one go. It took her a moment to get used to the feel of the thumping in her hand.
"I think I can get about three...maybe four of these at a time. We can carry them up the car. How about that backpack of yours? Think it could carry more?"
"It's not a story. Well, it is. But I assure you, I didn't make it up. I certainly didn't steer you wrong with that drink." He wasn't sure if he imagined it, but it was probably the best water he had tasted. August had allowed himself to wander off the straight and narrow that he had mentioned. It had led to amazing sights. It had led to tasty watering holes. He hadn't lied that simple well water in Storybrooke had a certain crisp taste to it. He had a mission. He had failed, of course. It was a partial failure, but he was back to try again. The weight of the world or rather, the world he had been sent from was weighing heavier on his shoulders this time. August wanted to blurt out that he knew. He knew every time Emma had been broken and crushed. He knew about that one time she was almost happy and somehow it was snatched away. He wanted to tell her about how each time he almost took her with him or the time he was tossed back into foster care because he stopped to play with her at the playground when no one showed up to a birthday party. He remembered what she wished for that year, too. She wished for mostly the same thing every year with slight deviation. He wanted to tell her that he found her at the homeless camp and told her she was just a cygnet looking for her family. She was lost. When you're lost in a group of ducks, they don't understand you or how beautiful you are. They also don't understand one day you'll grow up to rip someone's arm off. "Sorry." August shook his head with a little chuckle. "I got lost for a second. It's going to sound a little corny... Your eyes are the perfect shade of wishing star blue." He rose from his seat. The metal dragged against the old tile and seemed to blend perfectly with the cacophony of the diner's hustle and bustle. "It's a short walk. Wishing star tree is right behind the convent. That's what my intel told me." Straightening his jacket, he made for the door and held it open for Emma. "I'm more than happy to be a distraction from paperwork. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." August winked. "My work feels like play, so I can't say that I'm a dull boy. Jack should get it together."
Oh, he was so....what was the word? Undefinable? The kind of person that played his personal cards close to his chest while still, somehow, having that an air of warmth and welcoming about him, like a delicious mug of hot cocoa with indescribable flavors and seasonings that, of course, could be poison, but she kind of wanted to drink while falling asleep in front of a fire place anyway. That was usually never a good sign when it came to people, but with him specifically there was also this...odd feeling of familiarity- not only that she'd met him before at some forgotten, long ago time and place, but that she'd known him a long time beyond that. That was, of course, ridiculous, because she couldn't remember having met or knowing him before, but it did go some part of the way to explaining why it was so easy to trust him despite everything.
"I guess I'll have to take your word for that," Emma said teasingly of his comment towards the blue of her eyes, trying to hide the fact that it probably got a bit of a blush out of her nevertheless. Hadn't she heard all those lines before? Well, not that one specifically, but still...she really needed to work on not reverting into a wide-eyed teenager at every charming quip he sent her. After all, they were just friends having fun, right? Not everything had to be so serious all the time.
Granny, however, seemed to have noticed her reaction as they both got up to leave, as she sent Emma that sort of knowing look before collecting their discarded plates.
"You kids have fun!" she called after them, still with that hint of suggestion that she knew more about what was going on than they did. Emma gave her a quick smile, but would not further dignify those subtle gestures with a verbal response.
"Kinda fortuitous the wishing star is within walking distance," Emma felt obligated to point out as they departed into the cold night air, securing her hands in the pockets of her jacket- in part, because she'd forgotten her gloves, in another, out of some subconscious tendency to give some physical distance. Not too much, but...just enough. "Has it been there behind the convent the whole time? Just kinda...hanging out, waiting for a wishful soul?"
She was, again, teasing him, not trying to condescend, but knowing August, he'd get where she was coming from as he always had before.
"Wait, what if one of the nuns used it?" she playfully challenged, gaining a bit of ground ahead of him to walk backwards, facing him. "Or are wishing stars not finite? Listen, if that's the case and this actually works, I think we have a moral obligation to tell everyone in town. In my experience, small towns are usually teeming with unrealized dreams and potential."
As she skipped back to a regular walking pace beside him, she added with a little smirk, "But you're so seemingly well-traveled, I'm sure you know that already."
@piiixiedcst
Leonard had his head in his hands, but as soon as Dr. Hopper entered his room, he looked up and relief flooded his face. "Dr. Hopper, you're here! I think I'm getting worse."
He wasn't aware of anything that happened beyond the four padded walls of his room. All he knew was that he'd gotten weird, jumbled memories flooding his head recently.
"My daughter, I can see her wearing a princess dress. And there's a throne room. I talked to fairies and crickets! Nice ones, but they don't exist. No wait ... do crickets exist?" Everything was blurring and confusing. He rubbed at his temples, trying to ease the headache that came on every time he tried to think too much.
"I know I said I wasn't crazy, that I do have a daughter, but ... maybe I am just that confused." He didn't want to believe it. The ten-year-old girl he always saw in his dreams looked so happy when she called him Daddy. His eyes teared up and he looked away from his therapist, not even aware just how much things had changed since his last session.
It had been a busy, hectic, and emotional week since the curse broke, perhaps the most of all of those things Archie could remember in a very long time- but with all that had happened and the unusual situation they found themselves in, memories were somewhat relative and fluid for everyone, of course. Certain things were immutable now though, knowledge and identities that had been ripped away were now restored. That meant, at least for him in his capacity, there was a whole host of people -many of them his patients- unjustly imprisoned in the psych ward beneath the hospital, people that Queen Regina couldn't have risked wandering the town freely, that needed to finally be released.
Even so, given what had been done to their minds and the impact of having been sequestered away in isolation for 30 years, a system had been devised in which Archie would individually reevaluate each person and best decide on the best placement going forward. Not everyone would be ready for full independence yet, but his goal was to set them each on a path of care to which that could, hopefully, be achieved.
There was one patient in particular he'd been on pins and needles to see again, someone he had campaigned for different treatment time and time again even before the curse broke and had been met with defiance. At least now Archie knew why that was.
When he entered the room that had served as King Leopold's 'cell' for the past few decades, something he had done once a week for years now, it was the first time he was having to resist the very pressing urge to call him 'your majesty'.
"Leo..." It was a greeting and an attempt to soothe the poor man's sudden onslaught of distressing, confusing memories at the same time. "It's okay, everything's okay, I promise. Let's take it all one step at a time."
He really hadn't been sure until now what kind of effect this new, overwhelming development would have on Leonard's mental state- perhaps hoping, in some measure, that it would make everything clear again instantly, restore the beloved, benevolent monarch they all knew and had believed to be murdered.
That was seemingly not the case- at least, not yet, but so too did Archie foresee this as a possible outcome. He took a seat across from his patient and paused a moment to choose his next words.
"I need to tell you that...things up top have changed- all for the good, I promise, but...it is entirely normal and even expected that you would feel more confused than ever right now. Many people are. You are not regressing, of that I can assure you."
And that was the truth. The formerly unbelievable reality of their situation was manifesting itself as best it could in Leo's mind which, despite his current distress, was an encouraging sign.
"Let's...just take a moment here and try to go over everything you're feeling and seeing in your mind right now. As I've said before, there's no pressure. If anything starts feeling too overwhelming or confusing, we can stop- and we'll go as slow as you need. Is that okay?"
Archie had already begun taking notes of what he'd heard from Leo when he entered, trying to catch up.
"You said you remember a daughter in a princess-styled dress and a throne room, as well as fairies and crickets that spoke to you." The latter of those two he knew, better than anyone, but now seemed too soon to reveal who exactly those 'crickets' were. "If it's not too overwhelming, can you tell me of anything else you may have seen?"
"...got you something." She sidled up next him like they were conducting some kind of shady drug deal- which, in many ways, they kind of were. The width of her hand covering it as she slid it to him didn't fully hide the way the tell-tale plastic crinkled, or the pixie-pink sugar crystals for that matter. "Saw it at the pharmacy and thought of you. Told Tom it was for me- which, is believable, as I indulge myself on these a bit more than I should too."
After a shifty look around around the area to make sure she definitely wasn't here, Emma said in tease-warning, "Don't tell my mother or I'm never treating you again."
@leaderintitleonly
They had the same idea. Henry smiled. "Yeah, cocoa sounds great!"
He stood next to Emma as she got the papers ready, and tilted his head in thought at her question. He hadn't thought this far ahead.
"Well, they won't need surgery. They didn't in the book. Regina just shoved them back in." Could someone without magic do that? He wanted to pull out his book and look for the answer, but there wasn't really time.
"Maybe we can ask the Blue Fairy when we get them. She'll know how to put them back. We might need her help." Henry thought you could just shove it straight in, but he didn't want to risk hurting anyone by accidently crushing the heart instead. He shuddered just thinking about it as he followed his mom to the car.
"But I do know how we'll find who they belong to!" As Emma drove, Henry explained that if you whispered to the heart, you commanded the person connected to it and they would have to do what you said.
"So all we have to do is tell them to come to us, and then when we get there we can whisper to one heart and tell them to raise their hand. That part will be easy!"
The hardest part was, well, right now. Henry stared at the graveyard as his mom parked the car, and he gulped. Had it always looked so foggy and creepy? Maybe just at night.
"Um, why don't you lead the way?" he suggested as he grabbed his backpack, digging around inside until he found a flashlight.
The Blue Fair-....! Did she even know who that was yet? Right, yes, the Mother Superior of all people. Apparently she had been a kind of leader of the fairies who, fittingly, were in a similar kind of 'order' back in the Enchanted Forest. Now there were literal fairies involved. It was difficult to believe sometimes, particularly in the thick of all this recent chaos, that she hadn't completely lost her mind. Henry was the only evidence she hadn't. This was all exactly as he said it would be and his preexisting knowledge of all of this would be invaluable to detangling all the knots.
While cruising down main street, then into the side road leading to the cemetery, she listened intently as he described how heart-acquisition magic worked. Another piece of the puzzle slotted in then as she immediately thought of Graham and the toxic, fucked-up 'relationship' he'd had with Regina. Completely against his will, apparently...and then, what came after he finally rejected her...
"Graham..." she sighed with regret, slightly under her breath. "God...if only I'd known then..."
She gripped the steering wheel a bit harder, trying to contain the utter rage that was simmering just beneath the surface. She was Sheriff, and Henry was with her, and so she knew she had to remain as impartial as possible, at least on the surface. He didn't need to know exactly what had happened there, not now, anyway.
When they finally pulled into the parking area beside the cemetery Emma could tell Henry's fear levels were raised exponentially- whether that was from the general creepiness of foggy cemeteries after dark or an already preexisting fear of his other mom, or some combination of the two, Emma wasn't entirely sure, but something that felt like a parental protectiveness took over her then.
"You got it," she assured him, and then chanced a comforting hand on his shoulder before they got out. "It'll be alright, okay? We're here together and we've got each other's backs. Now, let's just take this one step at a time and we'll get those hearts without any issues."
Something close to 'I'll never let anything bad happen to you, I promise' had bubbled up in the back of her mind while giving him this pep-talk, but it felt...a little too soon, too fast for both of them- and also, something of a lie, considering bad things had already happened to him despite her best intentions. She could only hope that wouldn't be a trend that continued, now that she was back in his life.
Emma then grabbed her own flashlight, stepped out of the car, and started making the trek through the very Night of the Living Dead-esque area towards the mausoleum, remembering that night not that long ago, very similar to this one, in which she and Graham had come seeking nearly the same thing.
"Another question..." Emma called over her shoulder, back to Henry as the neared the doors. "I, uh...full disclosure, I've been in this place before. The mausoleum, I mean. I didn't see any...heart containers, or anything like that." Not that she'd know what a typical 'heart container' looked like. "Do you happen to know if they're hidden somewhere inside or...?"
"Very wise. Spoken like someone who was just lucky to survive out there." There was a wild animal within his heart that wanted to reassure Emma that he understood and knew. He had languished in foster care and fled. Trying to hold onto the idea of wishes and dreaming felt like a crock, even when you came from that world. Staying doe-eyed and idealistic was impossible and even he had given up until he came here. Such things would remain under lock and key for now, at least. Perhaps one day that animal could be fed and cared for. For now it could howl at the bars and beg for comfort. "I wasn't very normal as a kid. Henry seems much more well adjusted than me. I was hopping on buses and skipping town. Henry has you. You'll keep him on the straight and narrow. He might be a dreamer, but I don't think he'll head off on a whim to start a rock band or go hiking in New Mexico with friends he just met." August used his fork to paw at a bit of lasagna. He could taste a bit of freezer burn that had settled into the pasta, but much like his other feelings, that comment would stay buried as well. One knew better than to say something about Granny's cooking or, in this case, lack thereof. The prongs of the fork tapped along with the music idlily. "Well, someone told me that when your wish is stuck, you often have to find a way to unwedge your wishing star. It might be in a tree somewhere. That same person also told me that princes occasionally get stuck in trees." August set the fork down on the marinara splattered napkin and raised his eyebrows as he formulated a plan in his mind. "What say you and I look for a lost wishing star? Maybe one of your wishes just got stuck and needs your help. I don't think they really have that whole GPS thing down just yet. Unless, of course, you've got work to do tonight."
Emma huffed out a small laugh at the concept of Henry running away on a whim to start a rock band and/or hike in New Mexico; she knew what August meant, of course, but this was the same kid that stole his teacher's credit card to hop a bus and find his bio-mother in Boston when he was only 10. She didn't think such things were entirely out of the realm of possibility for him, particularly when he got into his erratic teen or very young adult years. But then, as August said, maybe her being a part of his life now would lessen the chances of further impulsive behavior as he got older.
She was, after all, like August apparently, a former serial run-away that knew of and could educate Henry on the costs and downsides of doing such things. It seemed he took her word seriously on many things already. Maybe the years of running and searching fruitlessly for a sense of belonging would actually serve a greater purpose.
It also didn't escape her that August was being more forthcoming about himself and his past than he was usually, than he had been before, perhaps. Of course, given that he was committed to that 'mysterious stranger' sort of vibe it was possible he was lying. She didn't think so though. Beyond having a knack for telling when people were, that story sounded too-well-suited to him (or a past-him, rather) to be at least entirely made-up. She made a mental note to ask him more about that New Mexico-era of his later.
"You know, you don't have to make up a story about 'lost wishing stars' to get me alone somewhere, right?"
Oh. Wow, Emma, okay. The urge to make a witty retort seemed to fire off before the rational part of her brain could caution her not to sound so damn flirty. It wasn't that-....August wasn't really cute, because he was, and it wasn't that she didn't like him, because she did- and, of course, their banter had become such that it always sounded a little casually flirtatious anyway. They had one of those effortless rapports that meant they could meet each other every time, quip-for-quip.
But her past track record with dating was about as clean and functional as her criminal one and it had occurred to her a few years ago that maybe she needed to refine her taste in people a little more before diving back in. A therapist had also informed her (and she was sure Archie would agree) that she had a tendency in the past to be impulsive with relationships as a way to seek the affection and intimacy that had been largely absent from her formative years- that, in particular, had stuck with her.
And all that aside, she was really enjoying having August as a friend (one that she kind of playfully flirted with anyway, of course, but still a friend) and didn't want to do anything that might screw that up. Maybe it could be something else later on, but...she had to be slow and careful.
"I just mean that I trust you now- and, if it's not too soon or weird, consider you a friend. So, yeah, it's a beautiful night, why not go looking for a 'wishing star'? Couldn't hurt, and I need all the help I can get. I also need a break from the files at the station anyway."
The beloved pumpkin cheesecake was also all but completely decimated at this point, and so too did August seem just about done trying to make the freezer-burnt lasagna work for him. Most of the Storybrooke regulars had learned to avoid it entirely (making Emma wonder why Granny even still ordered it) and maybe now, so too would August. Little-by-little he was acclimating.
But would he stay and put down roots as she was trying to do? Or would he up-and-leave one day, continue to wander as he seemingly always had? Another reason not to get too attached, too quickly.
"I can get this," Emma said, tucking a folded wad of bills just under the lip of her plate. "If you'll drive us to the 'wishing star'."
Those who don't believe in magic will never find it.
@piiixiedcst
It wasn't every day that he almost sat on a cricket.
Leopold had simply been taking a stroll around the gardens. He'd paused near a pear tree to rest, and heard a chirp when he tried to sit down. At least, it had to be a chirp, didn't it? Not a verbal objection like he thought he heard?
He stood, looking a bit baffled at the tiny insect before him. Was it holding ... an umbrella? Goodness, but no matter how people tried to keep him up to date on magic, new things were always surprising him.
"I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Cricket! I didn't see you there. I hope you're having a good day in my gardens?" He was only half expecting an answer.
From the start, Jiminy didn't think it was the best idea for him to be here, within the Royal Gardens- not so much because anyone in their right mind would accuse and jail a cricket for trespassing, but simply due to the fact that it was a bit...risky. Sure, he was immortal for as long as he needed to be, but having been trodden on and swatted at and even sat on before he could say firsthand that it was far from pleasant.
No, he preferred open, empty fields and the garden at home where there were no random humans that didn't already know of his existence and to be careful. He didn't have the luxury of that choice today, as Geppetto was currently preparing a few pieces at the palace workshop to present to the King, ever hopeful he might become a royal artisan if he proved himself. That would certainly mean more funds and better living conditions for all of them, Geppetto, Pinocchio and Jiminy included.
But as Geppetto worked on his presentation pieces for the King, Jiminy's hunger beckoned, and as he didn't want to get too far away from the Palace he decided to take the risk and scope out the gardens- in which he found several lovely leaves, a few pieces from which no one would notice...but the pear tree.
Oh, did Jiminy love pears, particularly when they were at peak ripeness as these were. One had even fallen on the bench just underneath, not likely to be picked up for the Royal Family's consumption anyway....and what were the odds anyone would sit on this bench as he had a little snack? Truthfully, the risk-weighing gave way to his hunger and he went ahead and started nibbling.
That is until...a shadow appeared. A human posterior. Jiminy clicked and chirped as loud as he could, desperate not to be 'squashed' again, and in a moment of sheer panic, almost resigned to the fact that he would be. But the shadow subsided and the figure turned around, and lo and behold...it was the King. Of all people! The King!
Jiminy had heard before that King Leopold was kind and just, far more so than most fellow peasants not to mention royalty of far off lands, and as the King so politely and graciously greeted him he learned first hand that those rumors had not been misplaced.
He cleared his throat, focused on willing the magic the Blue Fairy had taught him to speak properly to humans, and with some struggle he finally discovered his human 'voice'.
"Y-your majesty!!" Jiminy hurriedly bowed, pear all but forgotten at this point. "My deepest apologies, I-...I hope you will not consider it too bold or presumptive of me, but I meant only to satiate my hunger with this pear...it had fallen, you see, most likely to be left to the bugs and the ground anyway, and seeing as I am the former..."
He then realized he hadn't even properly introduced himself yet.
"Oh gosh, where are my manners- my name is Jiminy, your majesty. Jiminy Cricket, some call me, which is, of course, fitting...I apologize again if I've intruded on your gardens- or your solace in any way! I'm here only to support a friend of mine, your majesty...he hopes to perhaps become one of your royal artisans. I can return to the palace workshop immediately, if you bid it!"
After feeding a few coins into the jukebox, August has retreated to his seat. There's a twang and a warble as the song begins. "I can't help but feel like it's a little sad. He says he's dreaming his life away, as he can only have them in his dreams." August's smirk fades. "That's a terrible way to live. But I've got a secret." He hovers a fork over a slice of pie, beckoning with the utensil. "Dreams can come true. Might take a little wishing or some pixie dust." The smirk returns in full force. "What?"
( @piiixiedcst for...anyone. LOOK WHO I FOOOUND. )
The choice of an Everly Brothers song in the diner felt apropos, making it seem even more like they'd been suddenly transported to 1960. The only thing missing was a shared milkshake and talk of going to the sockhop later on. But that was-...well, silly, sure, but also a bit date-like and Emma didn't really want to examine too deeply as to why those particular vintage images and archetypes came to her first.
It was only when he spoke again that Emma realized she'd been grinning to herself all the while (and to her personal slice of pumpkin cheesecake- a new variation on a classic Granny had recently debuted that she'd become perhaps a little too obsessed with- it really was that freakin' good...maybe that was why she agreed to this little pie-focused hang out. Must've been).
"Oh, no, nothing, don't mind me..." she dismissed, despite knowing full-well she was going to tell him anyway. "It's just-...you sound so much like Henry sometimes. That's a good thing, though...I think. I just...I think it's good he has some adults around here that reaffirm his beliefs, even if they're-...well."
She didn't want to describe said beliefs in a term that would've been offensive and/or distasteful to either Henry or August for that matter, so she swallowed the rest of that sentence in another bite of pumpkin cheesecake. Admittedly, she was also coming around to the idea that Henry's beliefs didn't have to be seen as maladaptive- not entirely, anyway. He was a kid after all, and one with a big imagination, and for most children that in and of itself was entirely normal.
And maybe...she didn't exactly know what 'normal' was for a child when she'd hardly gotten the chance to be one herself.
"No, sorry," she corrected. "'Even' nothing. They're, y'know...a normal part of childhood development, so I hear. I guess I just worry so much about him being disappointed, having that world-view shattered to pieces one-day that, I-....I've pushed back a little more than I should, maybe. And, anyway, the world needs a little more whimsy, I think. Believing in pixie dust, fairytales...that dreams actually can come true."
There it was again. That pressing impulse that seemed to be getting stronger the longer she stayed here and put down roots.
"It's just..." She hesitated, debating confessing such personal things outloud while scraping her bits of leftover pie with her fork. "When so few of one's dreams have ever come true, in their entire life, it's difficult to believe that could ever be the case...y'know, when the real world has been so harsh, when that's all someone has ever known..."
And then, finally, the most personal revelation of them all,
"But even then...there's an element of wanting to, despite everything. Wanting so desperately for there to be hope around the corner, to believe that there is. Somewhere."
Some Mun Facts!!! (while I procrastinate working on drafts)
Name: Annie
Age: 35
Zodiac: Capricorn
Height: 5 ft 7 in and a half, sometimes 5'8 if stand straight enough lol
Hobbies: Gardening, cooking, writing (RP and fanfic and original stuff), 3d/digital art and animation, gaming, piano and hoping to take up guitar again soon!
Favorite Color: Pretty much any shade of blue, but especially darker tones like Navy
Favorite Books: East of Eden by John Steinbeck, No Country for Old Men by Cormac McCarthy, Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston, To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, Lord of the Rings series (and yes I know a lot of these are middle/high school standbys most everyone had to read, but I minored in American lit along with my education major and taught hs/ms English for a second, so I come by these choices honestly OKAY- also my other picks are just too embarrassing to name in mixed company lmao)
Last Song: Lane Navachi by Lunascape (highly recommend this one actually, it's pretty old and obscure but SO pretty/eerie)
Last Movie: Inside Out 2 (I FINALLY FINISHED IT WITH MY KID)
Last Show: Once Upon a Time, I'm doing a steady rewatch rn
Recent Read: The drafts I need to work on lol
Fun fact: I'm not good at 'fun facts', tbh, because I'm pretty bad at determining what counts as one apparently. I also don't think I -have- a lot of 'fun facts'. But, I guess, relevant to this blog, I've been RPing online for 20+ years so there's that!
Tagged By: @fairestmusesofthemall / @leaderintitleonly
Tagging: Anyone who wants to!!
;;I'm baaack from my little vacay!!! Been driving many hours so my brain's a little fried. I'm gonna be so fr with you chat I'm probably not going to be working on replies tonight because of it, but I fully intend to get back into it tomorrow. As per usual in the meantime you can check my starters and my memes, reply to and/or send any of those in as you like, or HMU in ask or messages if you have any plots or just want to say 'hi', but be warned I'm a little manic with fatigue rn so that's the version of Annie you'll be getting. Probably the best version if I'm honest. ANYWAY. Love yall!!! Have a beautiful night/day/afternoon whatever it is where you are