Dr. Émile Facilier (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bokor) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
castle_perrault2016-10-11 01:03 am
bokor) wrote in castle_perrault2016-10-11 01:03 am
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[INTRO; OPEN]
The tall thin man was standing more or less near one gathering of gravestones in the evening dusk. Most people would be avoiding a place like this, and truthfully so should Facilier have been, if defiance hadn't temporarily overridden his common sense. He reasoned that the place wasn't so frightening even to a man who'd so mightily pissed off the spirits and so deeply overdrawn his finances that they'd dragged him off when he'd made the mistake of blurting that he couldn't pay them.
Maybe this was payment, or punishment, or maybe it was a third thing altogether, but Facilier knew second chance when he saw it and he knew landing on his feet when he had to. He could flourish in the sidewalk cracks like a weed, or he could... spend his time outside the castle assessing it nervously from a graveyard in which he paradoxically just felt more comfortable. That was right. Plenty of room around here to see anyone coming, plenty of space to escape if he felt uneasy, and no bokor had anything to fear from the dead that they didn't owe.
When he'd calmed his racing heart enough to actually pretend to be casual, he decided to make his way closer to the castle proper. Maybe there'd be a newspaper. Creepy Gothic Herald, with a date, which was about all he was interested in. He bothered with nothing like brochures, and this was far from New Orleans, but the same rules applied. Talk to people. Get friendly, pick up whatever unbiased, usable information presented itself and pick up the biased stuff too, but it might be harder to sift through that here.
He'd have to hope folks here were friendly enough to avail himself of their hospitality, a fish completely out of water as he reluctantly left even the shadow of familiarity with the graveyard and went people hunting.
And what that meant was lurking in shadowy halls, shuffling his tarot deck and keeping a look out for people who looked like suckers. Or at the very least like they wouldn't just attack him.
Maybe this was payment, or punishment, or maybe it was a third thing altogether, but Facilier knew second chance when he saw it and he knew landing on his feet when he had to. He could flourish in the sidewalk cracks like a weed, or he could... spend his time outside the castle assessing it nervously from a graveyard in which he paradoxically just felt more comfortable. That was right. Plenty of room around here to see anyone coming, plenty of space to escape if he felt uneasy, and no bokor had anything to fear from the dead that they didn't owe.
When he'd calmed his racing heart enough to actually pretend to be casual, he decided to make his way closer to the castle proper. Maybe there'd be a newspaper. Creepy Gothic Herald, with a date, which was about all he was interested in. He bothered with nothing like brochures, and this was far from New Orleans, but the same rules applied. Talk to people. Get friendly, pick up whatever unbiased, usable information presented itself and pick up the biased stuff too, but it might be harder to sift through that here.
He'd have to hope folks here were friendly enough to avail himself of their hospitality, a fish completely out of water as he reluctantly left even the shadow of familiarity with the graveyard and went people hunting.
And what that meant was lurking in shadowy halls, shuffling his tarot deck and keeping a look out for people who looked like suckers. Or at the very least like they wouldn't just attack him.
sorry, there's a ghost partner in the house and he's piiiiissed
And then Facilier freezes, and Barnaby halts immediately. Even if he's trying not to show his displeasure with this little revelation, Barnaby can tell he's uncomfortable. The tone of his voice, the way his shadow moves... it would all point to discomfort even if Barnaby couldn't read his thoughts. Is he going to be abandoned again?
But then Facilier starts speaking again, and he seems a little more interested in this situation. More than that, he's... understanding Barnaby's position in a way that so many people before him haven't. He doesn't dare hope yet. He knows he's a poor excuse for a toy, and that he has no right to have another owner... but if there's a chance he can still do better...
A vase nearby shatters. Barnaby has learned to ignore that happening by this point.
"It's not at all what I want, sir," he answers, a little desperately. "I'm supposed to find a new master. If you would take that role, I would be in your debt forever."
Forever is what Kotetsu said when Barnaby asked if he'd support him... forever is a very good word. Surely this stranger would like to hear it?
There's a crumbling sound as a crack forms in the wall, as if someone had punched it.
Oh no PERFECT
He was distracted from the conjecture by the exploding vase, and his nerves had been sufficiently steadied by the past few hours that he turned to look at it almost imperiously, as if he couldn't believe the audacity of the universe to try to shake him again so soon after the last time. "Now what in the blazes is wrong with this place??"
His shadow was busy looking between the broken pieces and Barnaby as if trying to connect them, but there was no real evidence of collusion, and the shadow shrugged at a glance from Facilier. No clue.
The Shadowman refocused with a kind of bitey energy on Barnaby, sensing that desperation like gasoline to a fire, Forever... Forever was a wonderful prospect. Master - was not.
"Shame I can't accept that offer, actually. The M word turns my stomach some, you understand. Or maybe you don't, and you'll have to take my word on it. In any case... I do hear you. And I comprehend your - need," He tiptoed around the word with delicate emphasis. He was about to go on, but then the second peculiar thing happened and he turned accusingly to Barnaby. "You got any other secrets you wanna tell me? Or should I just drop you right here in the hall like the last one did?"
no subject
He looks over at the vase not with offense, but with something like guilt. He really isn't sure why this keeps happening to him wherever he goes. Maybe he's cursed?
He doesn't have time to think about it, though, before Facilier turns on him, and everything starts to go wrong. He feels his chest get tight. He thought this time for sure he had found the right person. He thought he would finally be told what to do again, and he wouldn't be left overwhelmed by his own emotions and thoughts. He can't let another person leave.
...He knows what happens when he's left alone. The nightmares, the memories, the strange feeling like someone important is just out of reach. He doesn't want to be left to deal with those again.
"...I understand, sir. I can call you whatever you like... I understand it's difficult, but I won't be able to survive if I don't find someone to control me soon..."
And then more things start shattering. Again. Someone is going to get hurt or try to hurt him again, and he's not at all prepared for that prospect. His eyes dart nervously around the hall, hoping that whoever keeps doing this would just reveal themselves already, or at least just leave him alone.
"Please don't leave me here. I-I don't know what's doing that, sir, but I promise it isn't me. All I know is it keeps happening around me."