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Posted: Nov 14 2017, 01:16 PM
you see puzzles
I SEE GAMES
The hands on Moriarty's watch ticked by, second after second. After second. After second.
She couldn’t help being drawn to it, to pick it up and study it. Something about it drew her in - her appreciation for art, for beauty, for something different. Maybe it had been tossed into the woods, but someone had kept it clean and it looked expensive at the very least. At first Jamie just thought of that - the straightforward ways to make a bit of money. Beggars couldn’t be choosers after all. She could sell it, maybe find someone who appreciated art as much as she did.
It. The thing she'd found in the woods. The thing that had almost called to her, the thing she could've sworn she would've gone past if it weren't for something...else. Because there was…there was that feeling about it, too. Something under the surface, something...almost alive, tingling under her palms. The spider was used to the shivering of each strand of her web, the minute brushings of potential prey against her network of spies, assassins and the rest of the rogues’ gallery she employed to do her jobs. But nothing quite so…literal. Or so powerful, thrumming under her fingertips. The lantern she'd found? It was something special. Jamie could almost sense it.
She hadn’t gone to an expert. There were some in town, she knew, those more skilled in magic than herself, but it grated on her to consult any expert but herself about any topic regardless of what it was. And from what she’d heard of some of the experts in town, such as a certain Mr Gold, she was wise to keep her prize for herself anyway lest it be torn from her hands and find a new home amongst some other hoard. The thought sent her teeth on edge. And as for allies - there were none to be found. An empire of the kind she was used to wasn’t going to work. Not here. Not with the level of disinterest these criminals showed towards anything that was in the least way ambitious. She shifted in her seat, her new wound still smarting from one criminal's earlier rejection - a certain Ezekiel Jones. Ugh. How dare anyone attempt to commit to anything larger than themselves? How dare anyone try to better themselves? This was the way to do it - to find something people needed and to use it against them; it was textbook, and if everything went well it could be very lucrative. But if no one was interested here, if they were content to wallow in their own petty crimes, she’d just have all the spoils. Maybe she'd said to Sherlock that she'd teach in his school, would deal with his insufferable little protégés, but old habits died hard. To host another competitor in this game would be…foolhardy, anyway. The less people involved the better.
That the lantern was a prize was obvious - and, of course, it had to belong to someone. Someone who might need it. Someone who was willing to pay any price to get it back.
Jamie had no love for magic - that force that she had only just learnt about, that she couldn't master and couldn't, as of now, understand. The lantern was of practically no use to her - and especially not in a town that was full of people who knew magic better than her. Jamie was nothing if not aware of status, where power lay and who it was harnessed by. Sherlock had said it himself - with a mayor versed in magical skill, and surrounded as she was by people who would be able to stop her if she tried anything, she was unlikely to get anywhere on the magical front. She was…restrained. Restricted. Contained. But as much as those invisible bonds chafed there were other ways, other methods, of getting something out of this that didn’t involve actually using the lantern - other ways of turning this to good use. And so it came that a note was left in the window of Granny’s.
Magical artefact found outside town.
Not in Granny’s itself, of course. The cafe slash B&B slash whatever the hell went for entertainment in America (which was, in Jamie’s view, far removed from the classical entertainments of Europe - obviously) was far too open and the bar too seedy for her tastes. This, whatever this was, had to occur out of the way of prying eyes; but Jamie was still, regardless, a stickler for comfort. She would arrange this matter in luxury, as she always did. And there was one place like like that she could find: the mansion. It was where she sat now, as the afternoon heat blazed down and she swept her eyes over the object d’art, the elegant furniture over beamed ceilings.
It was familiar, too. She’d been here once before, and had failed in her mission then. This, she was sure, was going to go far more her way.
No time and no date had been attached to the note. That detail, naturally, had been deliberate. Anyone could want to claim a magical artefact - would want to have it for themselves for amusement or otherwise. Jamie certainly would, and she didn't believe that was a desire just left to the intellectually superior such as herself. But it was only those who could be bothered to scout out at the place every day for her to turn up who would be desperate, who would be the true owners - or those who would be willing to bargain. It filtered out the curious, the careless, those that the spider found distinctly...irritating. The detritus of this consumerist little world, the driftwood left broken amid the flotsam and jetsam of the real players on this chessboard. The ones willing to lie in wait for what they really wanted.
So far? No luck. No one had come to answer the summons. But Jamie was nothing if not patient.
She crossed her legs in her chair, leaning back into its padded confines. The lantern itself wasn’t here, of course. This was like any other transaction in her line of business...and no business, blackmail or otherwise, took place with the desired object in full view ready to be stolen. She had a photograph taken earlier that day but she wasn't letting her prize go that easily. She was quite glad she didn’t have it, in reality. Something about it...unsettled her. Even her, with what she had done, with what she had accomplished during her years as director of her criminal enterprise. It was...dark. Not evil - it was far too emotional such a childish word. But something was wrong with it, something not quite right.
Tolerate it for the deal. Yes. She couldn't give up now that she was so close to getting something out of this. Her eyes traced the skies out of the open window, waiting for the unlocked door to click.
Sig/Av by Bach! <3
Posted: Nov 14 2017, 06:59 PM
How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?
It is love we must hold onto, never easy but we try.
Things had been thrown through a loop with Sally ever since the smoke cleared from the first curse. With the reemergance of magic, the seers powers went from wierd moments of deja vu into full on visions. It had started out over time manifesting into a stronger power. Her magic wasnt nearly as strog as many of the others, but her sight gave her a knowledge and clarity that most would kill for. However, it had seemed only to burden her the more her powers grew. They came in small pieces at times, just names or faces, but other times in meant painful, prophetic visions. It was out of her hands at times, but with focus she could gain necessary information. While it made working in a hospital painful at times, it also managed to help. She could stop mistakes, help in a way many others couldnt. And now, she wad usig that gift to help Silas.
Something about Silas drew her in. His complexity, his prescense, the memories of a monster made of the earth as she had been. Two spirits that were so incredibly different, yet held some similarities that she couldnt ignore. He seemed so irritated with her opposite views at times, and yet he always had a way of showing up and seemed as if he almost had an instinctive need to be around. She felt it within herself, and simply thought he was merely as confused and curious about their magnetism as she was. She worked at finding the beast's soul contained witin a special lantern-- one that she could see in images, finding a vision of a blond woman and the name Moriarty plagueing her thoughts. She looked up the records, only meeting one man named Moriarty since she had come to Storybrooke. However, the woman seemed a ghost. She hadnt been to the hospital, so there were no records to look through..
Then, she saw it. Walking into the dinner, she noticed the memo, touchig it a moment. The visions flooded her as she took in the woman's prescense she left behind. Jamie Moriarty, the blond from her visions. She could see her sitting, waiting with pictures of the lantern from her visions. She left the card, and pulled out her phone to check on Silas. She went for the call button, only to freeze. He was dying, and well, this particular woman was one for a game of cat and mouse. She sighed, putting her phone back in her pocket. He likely already saw the damn card.. Knowing him, he'd wander off there without her.. And she would just have to show up. She touched the card again. Her eyes turned white as she started using her gift to see what would be. Yep, he was going. She could see it.. she stopped, rolling her eyes a bit," Stubborn Son of an Edelwood.." She went out the door, hoping to get there with enough time.
Sally arrived at the mansion, parking her car as she waited to see him arrive. She could see the woman in fleeting images, still waiting. He was crazy to think she wouldnt show.. Then again, he couldve very well assumed with all her digging that she would see what he was doing when it came to the images of this Jamie character. She sat, waiting for him to show, hoping to catch him as he went in. She sat, flipping through her phone a moment before getting out of the car. She could feel him near.. She stepped out, leaning back against the door as she closed it.
"Silas.. Be careful of this one.." She warning in a calm low tone, openning the door to the mansion and walking towards the room where the visions had pulled her. She gestured to the door, saying nothing as she waited. She wasnt particularly excited about any of this, but she felt she needed to do it. Whatever alternative Silas had in mind was likely inconcievable in comparison..
Posted: Nov 15 2017, 01:04 PM
come wayward souls
His search had come up with nothing, much to his disappointment.
He pooled the remainder of his energy searching after his lantern. Its value was limitless, and within the last couple of weeks, he’d been starting to notice the side effects. The oil was running low for sure, his mood had become rather unbiased, sleep came more frequently and most of all he could feel the beginning of a rot. The way the trees had begun to wither and die, he could feel it again. That same internalized feeling, like his insides, was slowly turning into tar. He knew the spirit he had long ago banished was not due to return since both Wirt and Gregory had rid the Unknown of it. The fear of returning to that weakened state it what drove Silas to not only see the note by Granny’s but to act upon it.
It was an instant and cohesive moment, he took the paper and set it in his jacket, ducking behind an alleyway only seconds later to melt into the abyss of shadows that spread their veins over the sunlight. Jaime had been right, what was currently contained within the lantern was dark, smothered in the cruelty of nature, with all the allure and terror associated with a shadow. He knew the greed of humans and creatures all too well. However, he had little to no money to give if that’s what it came to. He spent what little money he kept on newly mortally acquired needs like food and water. It never really occurred to Silas to worry about such things. He had placed his pawns carefully before even traveling in the shadows within a mile radius of the mansion.
But there was a car in the driveway now.
The beast held back to the shadows, not approaching the door, the only indication of his presence the stark white of his eyes, illuminated within the shadows. He tilted his head before restraining to make a few steps forward as he saw movement from within the car. He knew instantly that wasn’t who he was here to meet. There was no way she had the lantern already. Why the hell was she even here? This wasn’t her issue or problem
He hated the name, merely for the sheer fact that he could explain nothing about her, yet all his wits and manipulations were nothing but a transparent sheet to her. The parallels between them were undeniable, and for some reason, which Silas had little explanation for, they always seemed not to be too far behind one another. There was a certain pull from the woods, somewhere tangible within the winds that passed between the trees, carefully pressed between the moon’s shadow. It was hypnotic, alarming and confusing. Thus he resolved to avoid her, and the odd feeling altogether.
Then he heard her voice carried over the wind. The shadow maneuvered through the shadows, dipping through the black blankets that were cast through the window. Within the mansion sat a blond girl sat on a cushioned chair, he let his eyes linger a few minutes until the shadows peeled away from his form, stepping out in the dimly lit area, his head tilted slightly and his mouth ajar, white eyes being traded for his newly coveted blue ones. This would be simple. It always was.
He stood absolutely silent as his eyes raked and crawled all over her face, her body language, anything that would give him a prime indication of what she knew, or didn’t know. It almost brought a smile to the beast’s face. He made sure to stand tall, despite the sickly feeling that had consumed his newly found mortality in the last week. He knew very well to keep any indication of weakness to himself, he could only hope Sally-- if she came in, did the same.
His eyes never left Jaime, even as his head tilted to angle his ear to the door to listen for footsteps. A slick smile spread like oil across his lips and the beast merely, stretched out his knuckles as he eyed the girl potentially in possession of his lantern. He reached slowly into his jacket and pulled out her note, smoothing it out over his chest. “I do hope you're the person I’m looking for,” He purred, glancing down at the note and quirking an eyebrow, “Moriarty, I take it?”
Salina Finkelstein Jamie Moriarty