He felt warm. Much warmer than what the usual temperature within his hotel room on a cold, snowy morning in Lake Tahoe, Nevada was. Finding difficulty in opening one eye, Alan squinted as the morning light streamed down onto his face, forcing his eye back shut immediately as a pressing headache formed it's way between his eyes. Peeling open his eye in a second attempt, Alan let out a tired groan wanting at least a few more minutes to sleep in, but he had his work cut out for him today. Taking stock of his limbs, Alan opened his second eye to find his cheek pressed intimately to the bare backside of a woman and an arm wrapped around her waist, hand resting on her abdomen. The events of the night before slowly filtered through his sleep-induced mind and Alan couldn't help but to smirk at his good fortune. Taking great care to untangle himself from the still sleeping woman, Alan placed a gentle kiss on the backside of her shoulder before he managed to sit upright on the bed and fish around for his clothes, finding his t-shirt first and slipped it on. Standing up, he pulled his worn blue jeans back on, working on the belt as he made his way over to the front door of her apartment and wiggled his shoes on, not even stopping to bother with the laces. Taking a minute to run his fingers through his long, shaggy brown hair, Alan slipped out the front door quietly, so as not to wake the waitress he had met at the bar just last night. The last thing he needed was for her to get the wrong idea that last night had meant something. She didn't seem like the type that would, but then again, anything was possible when you were drunk. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Alan began the walk to the main street where he could hail a cab and make it back to his hotel room for a quick shower and change of clothes before heading to the ski lodge. Taking a quick look at the clock on his old flip-phone, he found that if he hurried, he would have just enough time to arrive before the throng of tourists did. It took fifteen minutes; even at the crack of dawn the city was traffic-busy, pressing the thought that he might want to think about saving up for a motor bike to get around quicker... maybe they had bike rentals at the lodge? He hadn't even thought to check on that before. He had arrived in Nevada a day short of a week ago, dreams of his past haunting his sleep. He was made of wood again, constantly calling out for his Papa, wandering among never ending hallways with no doors feeling more and more frightened with each step he took. A heavy weight was brought down on his chest, making him stop to look at the necklace The Blue Fairy had given him, her final words to him echoing around in his wooden head again and again. *"Remember Pinocchio... if you help the children to remember who they are, you will have the chance to come back some day. And if your heart proves you to be selfless, brave and true, you will finally become a real boy. Stay with them Pinocchio, they need you."* Alan physically scoffed as he remembered the subject of his dreams lately. Selfless, brave and true? Boy had he fallen far from that mark! But he still had a promise to keep. He supposed it *would* be easier if he hadn't been separated from the group upon their initial arrival to Earth, but that was neither here nor there. Fate had it out for him making everything he did one step forward and two steps back. Pulling out the necklace from underneath his shirt and letting his thumb brush over the tiny pendant, he raised it to his lips for a kiss. He would not be returning home, not when there was no hope of not being turned back to wood, but there was still hope for the others. He just had to get them to believe. With a quick shower and a change of clothes that was better suited for the snow-dusted morning, Alan headed back out to the busy streets, stopping at a corn-dog stand on his way to get something into his stomach, grateful for the break in softly falling snow underneath the kiosk's umbrella. "Lookin' a bit tired this morning. Rough weekend?" The man behind the corndog stand asked. Alan smirked, reaching to his back pocket to pull out a couple one's from his wallet. "Eventful." He replied, slapping the money onto the kiosk, putting his wallet away before grabbing the two corn dogs handed over to him. "Ah, well, could be worse I suppose. You take care ya?" Alan gave a half-assed salute with one of the corn dogs, chuckling a bit to himself as he then bit off the end and headed on his way down the street. He was nearly finished with the first one when he felt a pair of eyes on him from behind. Stopping, Alan turned to find a young boy, no older than eight, staring hungrily at the second corn dog in his opposite hand. Alan didn't have to guess where the boy came from, or what he wanted. It was clear in his ragged clothes and unwashed hair that he was living on the streets, and had been for a few months now. But it wasn't the clothes and the unwashed hair that let Alan know this, it was the look in his eyes, the same look he himself held for a number of years before landing a job as a street performer and managed to save up for a tiny studio apartment back in Manhattan. It could have been days since the boy had found something to eat, and his heart went out to the kid. Adjusting his weight a bit, and popping what was left of the first corn dog into his mouth, Alan headed over to the boy, handing him the remainder of his breakfast. Wide eyed and full of awe, the boy graciously took the corn dog from Alan and turned to leave. "Hey kid!" Alan called out, reaching back to his front pocket. The boy turned, fearful at first that it was all just a trick and Alan would take the corn dog back as some cruel joke he had been subjected to over his experiences of begging for food. Instead, Alan pulled out a crisp ten-dollar bill he had swiped from the man at the kiosk while he had been paying for his corn dogs and placed it into the boys hand. "Dinner on me yeah?" Grinning madly, the boy bobbed his head up and down, the worn woolen cap on his head threatening to topple off his large brown curls. Alan just smiled and patted him on the back, sending the boy on his way. Feeling a bit lighter in his step, Alan turned back around and called for the cab that would then take him to the ski lodge, humming a jovial tune to himself as he waited.

Daria leaned back in the black car that was driving her to stay at the lodge for a week. Her parents always did this, gave her sometime to hang out with whatever people she chose and they would join her at the end of it and the three of them would stay together for another week. Daria was pretty it was just so that they could have sex for a week straight but she wasn't going to complain. She got to go snowboarding at least once a year for full two weeks and got a week away from her parents to do as she wanted. She brushed her hair out of her face and put her feet up on the back of the passenger chair in front of her. Her chauffeur, Clyde, looked over his shoulder at her, "Are you excited to see your friends again, Miss Daria?"

The girl smiled and thumbed the gold necklace around her neck, "Always. I only get to see them once a year... at least."

She looked down at the necklace and smiled as she rose it to her lips. It had a funky little pattern on it that looked like some kind of language that the world seemed to have forgotten. Her parents had thought it might be a clue to who her parents were and hand a bajillion people look at it to figure it out but no one of them could pick out the language let alone translate it. She didn't even know where it came from... She liked to think that her parents gave it to her for whatever reason they left her in someone's backyard but... she couldn't remember. She couldn't remember anything about her life before this one. The doctors and psychiatrists that her parents had been sending her to over the years always gave sad looks saying how it must have been something so horrible for her to suppress every single memory she had before the age of six, so much so to even forget her own name.

Daria dropped her necklace back to her chest when the car slowed to a stop in front of a very familiar ski lodge. She had been her once every year since she was adopted. It was a kind of 'Yay we're a family' celebration. Daria always liked coming here because there were two girls who were adopted the same year she was that worked her. They kind of all bonded over that when they first met. She flicked her hair over her shoulder and walked into the building, leaving Clyde to bring in her things. When she got to the front desk the woman behind it handed her her room key, "Here you are, Daria."

The girl smiled, it was sweet being recognized everything seemed a little more special when it had her name attached to it. She didn't have to wear or carry around one of the hideous VIP badges, everyone just knew and if they didn't... Well, they learnt pretty damn quick. She drummed her fingers against the counter and looked at the woman, "Have you seen Eliza and Annelise yet?"

The woman looked at her watch before shaking her head, "I can't say that I have but with how busy it is supposed to get today they'll definitely be on duty... They should be up and about soon."

Daria smiled and nodded her head, "Thanks."

She turned around and took a deep breath. She had been travelling all day and had little interest in heading out on the slopes by herself right now. Besides, she'd have two weeks to go snow boarding. She headed over to the lounge area of the lobby and sat in front of the fire before she shed her coat and enjoyed the heat emanating off of the flames.

---



Rapunzel sat on the fire escape just outside her room and looked down at the streets below. It was pretty early in the morning so the streets were yet to be busy. Even the trolley, when it passed now and again, was only half full. She pulled her hair over her shoulder and stood before climbing back into her room in the small apartment that she shared with the woman who found her, Agatha. Her room was pretty empty with only a bed, a desk, and mirror. However, Rapunzel couldn't complain this felt familiar even though none of it really was. Not to mention, Agatha had spent her money elsewhere on Rapunzel as she bought the girl clothes and paid the full rent for the two of them. Rapunzel was just glad that the woman had given her a job in her salon and allowed her to pay her back in someways. The money that she did make Rapunzel bought paint supplies and books and other little things that made her happy, like a miniature model of the Golden Gate Bridge.

She took a seat at her makeshift vanity and looked at the mirror just above her desk. She played with her long hair for moment before she began to braid it. Braiding her hair always took a while and she had learnt how to make quick work of it. When she tied of the ends she pin it all up into a bun and smiled as she grabbed her sketchbook and climbed out her window and down the fire escape. If it were just to Rapunzel she would keep her hair down and even longer than it was but she wasn't really sure how she had ever managed to grow it that long and be comfortable with it. The wind off the bay was enough to bug her now when she left it down and it all blew into her face.

Rapunzel walked down the street a ways before hoping on the trolley and made her way to the docks where she could see Alcatraz. Agatha didn't seem to excited by the place but Rapunzel had never seen anything like it... In fact, she had never seen anything like a lot of the things San Francisco had to offer. Cell phones, cars, computers, sour dough! Agatha laughed and always said it was like she really had been stuck in a tower or under a rock all these years.

When she reached the docks, Rapunzel took off her shoes and sat down. She let her toes rest in the cold ocean water as she opened her sketchbook in her lap. She began to sketch the prison and felt as though she had some kind of connection to it. Although, it didn't make much sense... After all, she wasn't a criminal and had certainly never ended up in a prison. However, the feeling of being trapped seemed to resonate with her in a way that she didn't understand....

Rapunzel packed up her things off the dock and looked at her picture as she stood. It was nice, the dark lines of the prison were bordered by thinner lines of shading. The entire picture was grey-scale and filled with shading. When she was done looking at it, she stuffed her book back into her bag and stood before she headed back to the hair salon. When she got there Agatha was holding and envelope. She handed it, grinning, to Rapunzel. The girl took it knowing well what it was. Once Rapunzel had gotten settled she had gotten straight to work and hadn't stopped since she got here a year ago. Agatha thought it was about time that the girl took a break and told her that she was going to send her on a vacation to Lake Tahoe. Agatha wasn't going to come though as she used excuses like Rapunzel needed time alone or to find friends her own age but really it was because she could leave work and Rapunzel knew that. She admired that.

"The car is out front," She hugged Rapunzel, "I'll see you soon, kid."

Rapunzel nodded, "Thanks, Aggie."

She quickly ran upstairs and grabbed her bag out of her closet before she pulled it over her should and headed out the door. She waved to Agatha through the window as they drove off. She made sure she had packed her art supplies because, well, she didn't have the heart to tell Agatha that she didn't know how to snow board or ski... Her talents were very much of the indoor variety. However, she knew that the ski lodge she was going to had some beautiful pictures taken that she wouldn't mind trying to get down on paper.

Rapunzel had taken her hair out of the intricate bun and left her hair braided. She had also changed into her warmer clothing, putting on a hat and jacket. She thanked and paid the man when they pulled up to the ski lodge and pulled her bag over her shoulder, pushing her braid to the other. She could already see people heading up to the hills to snowboard or ski. She wandered passed a ground of people, three girls and two men (one of which looked at though he had rolled around a little in the snow), before she headed into the lodge to check in. When she was given her key and pass, she handed off her bag to a bellman, who was to take it up to her room.

She kept her purse with her though as it had all of her art supplies in it. She bit her lip trying to decided where it was that she wanted to go, when someone came inside. As the door opened, she saw the lift going up the mountain behind them. She grinned as she found out where she was going. She trudged through the snow to the lift and stood behind a guy with brown hair, who she assumed was heading up the mountain to go down due to his snowboard. She was slightly curious as how it looked to everyone else to see her standing there with no skis or snowboard just a purse... She laughed a little at the thought. It took only a moment to realize how much stranger that made it all. She covered her mouth and looked up at the boy... man... She wondered if they would have to go on the lift together... She wondered if she could even get on it.

--- Peter Trent ---

Peter raises an eyebrow as he hears the laugh. He looks to his left and his right. There’s no one there. So, he looks over his shoulder and sees a young girl standing there. She looks gorgeous and Peter immediately flushes dark red and faces back forward. From the looks of how the line was going and how many people were there, they were probably going to ride up with each other. He takes a deep breath and looks over his shoulder again. She probably thought he was a freak for looking at her so… unsubtlety. He smiles quietly before facing back forward. The line begins to move forward and he notices that he and the girl are next in line for the lift. So they are going to have to sit next to each other.

He coughs and says, “Um, hi. My name is Peter Trent and I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t have a snowboard or skis with you?” He hopes that he doesn’t sound too impolite for asking, but he was curious at the moment. When you’re at a ski resort, you normally have ski things with you and this girl did not. He smiles kindly at her, waiting for an answer.

--- Rapunzel ---

Rapunzel jumped at the sound of someone clearing their throat. She looked up at the guy in front of her to see him looking at her. She had noticed him looking at her a little before and was curious about it. Normally, she was the one staring (no matter how much Agatha told her not to... There were just so many things that she didn't get about people) it was different being the one who was being stared at and that peaked her curiousity. She wondered what it was about her that made him stare. Maybe her hair? People always found her hair strange.

Um, hi. My name is Peter Trent and I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t have a snowboard or skis with you?

She made a bit of a face, "Is it that strange? Was that why you were staring," Rapunzel gasped and sucked on her bottom lip, "Sorry... I wasn't suppose to notice that," She laughed a little, "Honestly, I don't really know how to ski... or snowboard... or really get on this lift... I've never done any of this before and I'm not with anyone that I can try it all out with. But I figured I'd try it... I'm sure it there is a great view up there and I was hoping to paint it or draw it... or both," She adjusted her bag on her shoulder a little as she noticed she had begun to ramble. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, "I'm Rapunzel... Just Rapunzel," She gave him a small smile. People always asked for a different name, a real name, not a nickname and it always led to the less than comfortable conversation about how she didn't know her real name. She played with her long braid a little before she flicked it over her shoulder, "It's fitting."

She looked ahead at the lift in front of them and waited a moment, "So... Do you know how to do this thing?"

---



Esmeralda was pacing, she did this a lot now but what was she supposed to do? She liked running and walking and leaving and none of those consisted of being trapped. She was very much trapped. The jingling of the chains played in with the jingling of the bracelets that she adorned on her right ankle and wrists. She was a prisoner, a captive, to some brute who just wanted to see pretty girls dance.

"Stop. Pacing," A voice tore Esmeralda out of her head to look at the woman who sat against the wall looking up at her, "You're clanging is getting on my nerves," She said gesturing to her bracelets.

Esmeralda made a less than kind gesture to the woman before she took a seat at the wall opposite to her. The woman wasn't a gypsy nor any kind of outcast, she was privileged girl who could fumble her way through a dance well enough not to get killed. Despite the two of them both being nothing more than objects to their captures, this woman still saw herself better than the Romani scum. She probably even though them blessed not to have been killed off upon capture. Esmeralda thought otherwise. She'd rather die than dance for some man who put her in chains. She dance for money, she'd dance to perform but she would not dance with her feet shackled and her hands bound. She rose her hands to her face and brushed away the hair that had fallen into her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. She adjusted her scarf before she laid her legs out in front of her. She looked at the woman across the way dead in the eye before she started to wiggle her feet letting the sound of her bracelets and chains hitting each other fill the room again.

Esmeralda didn't take orders very well.

Standing high on the curtain wall surrounding the Agrabah Palace, Jafar's dark brown eyes narrowed on the royal slab of architect he had called home his entire life. For twenty-eight years he had always felt at peace with his living space, content to share it with the others and keeping to himself in the royal library, brushing up his knowledge on alchemy, modern science and history. But now, as he looked upon the Royal Palace, Jafar saw nothing but a gaping tomb; a cavernous prison holding fast to the life that he had left behind after the Sultan had so viciously betrayed him. It had been exactly five year ago when he had received the most wonderful news of his life; far surpassing taking his father's place as the Royal Vizier. He was going to be a father, born from the woman he had fallen in love with so many years ago with the knowledge that she might not ever be able to bare him a child. But after years of trying, the news came that she was indeed with child... his child; and nothing could be sweeter. Fresh with the overwhelmingly emotional news, the Guard Captain had tracked Jafar down to deliver a message. The Sultan had finally allowed a diplomatic meeting between himself and the other assistant Vizier's to go over the growing problem of economic inequality in Agrabah. His wife had gone with him, eager to listen in on what would become of the people of the lower class from where she came from but the moment the Sultan laid eyes on her, the Sultan had claimed her for his own. It did not matter that Jafar and she were married. It did not matter that she was with child. The Sultan took what he wanted at all times, and though Jafar had put up a decent fight to protect the woman he loved he was no match for the bludgeoning weapons of the Royal Guard. The meeting was called off, and Jafar was forced to watch, beaten, bleeding and bruised as his Sherrezade was taken from him to be added to the Sultan's harem. He had lost her to the Sultan and six months later (having stayed to fulfill his royal duty to the kingdom as Vizier) word had reached Jafar that he had then lost her to death. Childbirth; the child in question dead long before Sherrazade was. That had been his ultimate breaking point. Throwing all sense of formalities and duties to the wind, Jafar left the Palace to change his fate, spending years locating the second half of the golden scarab that was rumored to lead him to The Tiger Head Cave where he could do just that. It took a few years, and he had to slit a few throats along the way, but the second half of the golden scarab was recovered and with it, found The Tiger Head Cave. Once inside Jafar recovered a lamp; legened to have a Djinn nestled inside that could grant him any wish he desired. There was only one thing he desired, truly, and though he was a man of science and facts he couldn't help but to hope that this legendary Djinn could be the very answer to his prayers; that he could have his family back. The Djinn, despite it's absolute power, was unable to grant his wish. Outraged that the last five years had been for nothing, Jafar grabbed a golden staff with the head of a Cobra at the top from the vast amounts of treasure that surrounded them and in what he was sure was a rare moment of surprise, caught the Djinn off guard and beat him mercilessly. What happened next wasn't anything short of luck. Even one as Jafar knew that you can't kill a Djinn, not really. So when a swirling blue smoke came from the solid form of the body at his feet and welded itself to the golden staff Jafar was still holding he had been caught completely by surprise. A surge of magic pulsed up from the handle and into his hand, traveling through his blood stream until his entire body felt as if he were on fire. But as quickly as it came, it ended, now bestowed with the abilities of a genie without the limitations of one, Jafar knew that his chance had come. So as Jafar stood there on the curtain wall, glaring down the Royal Palace with fire dancing in his eyes and his grip closing tight onto the golden staff in his hand; he knew his chance had come to destroy the Sultan, just as the Sultan had destroyed his life five years ago. The question was; how? His powers, though great, were new and he knew not how to wield it. It would be nothing short of stupid to barge back into his home after being gone for five years and expecting everything to just... fall in place... He needed something. No, he needed someone. "It's such a shame isn't it darling...?" A soft voice flowed over the gentle breeze as it carried over to him from where a woman stood in the shadows, her body leaning against one of the walls just behind where his towering figure watched over the kingdom that had so long ago turned its back on him until he had been completely shut out. Lifting her hand up she curled her fingers slightly her attention turning to her nails as she looked them over making sure that not a single chip or scratch adorned them, "The waste of human life that sits upon the throne claiming to be Sultan of this great and bountiful nation..." Jafar turned to the sound of her voice, finding a woman of exquisite beauty standing before him. She was small, a good head shorter than he was with a tight figure that would draw any man's attention away from their current task, but what caught Jafar's eyes wasn't the alluring look she was giving him, but the pair of vibrant auburn horns protruding from her crown and curling back over the elegant shape of her head, making her already feminine features more pointed and angular. He needed no introduction to know who this woman was; although never meeting her before there were stories spreading across the land, stories of The Dark Queen: Maleficent. Pushing away from the wall she let her bare feet carry her closer to him, the light from the hot Arabian sun shining down upon her skin causing the color to dance like the flames of a hot fire, matching her eyes as they flashed slightly with excitement. "Would be such a shame if something happened to him though... Well, I mean not really, they always have you-..." She stopped herself in the middle of her words, her hand curling up in front of her mouth as she let out a single, innocent-sounding giggle before she turned to him shaking her head, causing her long (though loose), dark brown ponytail to sway back and forth behind her. "Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot; they rid themselves of you the moment they took what they wanted..." At this, Jafar's upper lip curled up into a snarl over his teeth, his dark brown eyes blackening as her words brought back flashing memories that had been haunting him for years now reentered his mind. He tore his eyes away from her to look back down at the village just below them. Closing the gap between them, Maleficent lifted her arm, gently taking hold of his stubbled chin as she forced him to look into her eyes, her expression showing him just how serious and dangerous she could be. "They ruined your life and got away with it. You think you can take back what is rightfully yours with just the small pitiful power of a Djinn? You disgust me..." Roughly pushing his head aside she turned her back to him, her hips swaying from side to side with every step she took away from him before finally she came to a stop, her eyes gazing out at Agrabah below them. "However, you're in luck... You wish to make them pay? I can help you. All I ask for in return... Is your eternal loyalty and devotion to me, your rightful Queen..." "It seems to me that the 'pitiful power of a Djinn' would be the last thing you would want from me... my Queen." Jafar replied in turn, his tone condescending with the title and angry throughout. "Besides," He began, his voice letting up a bit as he forced himself to remain calm despite the blood boiling in his veins. "there is only one man I wish to pay halfheartedly. An eye for an eye, a wife for a wife. Those remaining can bathe themselves in the riches of the treasure room for the rest of their days for all I care. So for that, I'll keep my loyalties to myself, thank you." Leaning against one of the pillars she dropped her head back slightly, her laughter filling the air as she turned her body, staying against the stone while her arms wrapped over her bare midriff. "And you truly believe that the revenge on one man will lead you to a true and happy life? You are a fool to think that the next in line would allow those he rules over to even touch the tiniest trinket in the royal treasury." Dropping one arm down to her side she lifted her other wiping a tear of amusement from her eye as she glanced over at him, her lips pursing slightly as she tried to figure him out; something about him drawing her attention. "What happened to Sherrezade was... Unfortunate... But if you truly believe that those little parlor tricks will get you everything you desire then please, by all means, go a head." Jafar's face remained completely stoic, his blackened eyes just watching her expressing her amusement at his expense but he remained unmoved; unreadable. It had taken nearly five years but the pain he felt for the loss of his family was easy to hide. Arching her back Maleficent slowly pushed herself away from the wall before she slowly began to wander past him. Her hand came up to slide down his chest as she passed him, her expression once again becoming cold and uncaring. "But do not come crawling back to me for help the moment you fail, Jafar. This is the only chance you will ever get to have power beyond your wildest dreams; the only chance for you to become Sultan... I have offered you all that you wish for, let it be known that I will not offer it again." Picking up her pace she headed away from where he stood her hand rising up as a thick plume of smoke slowly began to surround her creeping over her figure from her feet upwards. His grip tightened on the golden staff in his hands. He only wished for the Sultan to pay, not to take his place. But if that was how he was to exact his revenge, then so be it. Pushing his pride to the side for the first time in years, Jafar called out to her. "What would you suggest... my Queen?" He asked, the condescending tone to her title no longer present, a clear indication that he had already agreed to meet her price. If all he had to do was tolerate the woman for the rest of his days in order to bring the Sultan to his knees before him, then so be it. Turning her head slightly she looked back over her shoulder to where he stood, her arm slowly lowering and in turn causing the smoke to dissipate. "You give yourself to me... Well, that's a start..." Moving back over to him until she was standing directly in front of him, her chest brushed up against his own as she lifted her hand up, a small smirk playing on her lips as she took hold of his chin. "Now, I give you what you desire..." Pulling him down by his chin she pressed her lips hard against his, her lips seeming to burn slightly as she passed on the necessary knowledge he would need to get what he wanted, the tiniest amount of power seeping through her lips into his as she allowed it to. The moment her lips touched his his eyes flew open, his body instinctively stepping away in some hope that the last five years in memory of his departed wife could still be salvaged. His free hand flew to her wrist and gripped down on it tightly to pull her off of him but just as he did, he felt something... strange. It wasn't at all... unpleasant, not like he had initially thought. He found his body starting to relax, his shoulders falling as his lips finally eased back into hers, seeking out whatever it was that she was filling him with. It took another half a moment, but at long last he was able to pinpoint just exactly what it was that she was doing. A hot breath of air blew out through his nose, pushing his lips into her further to drink in what she was giving him. Power. Pure, raw power and he was getting drunk off of it ultimately craving more. Every hair on the back of his neck was standing up straight, his entire body underneath the multitude of black robes under the scorching Arabian sun getting covered in gooseflesh. He could feel the power running through his blood; vein by vein until his entire body had grown hot with magic. What came next was understanding, as if he had spent the last five years studying under the very Djinn he had taken the powers from; knowledge on how to wield these powers pumping into his brain in hot flashes that ultimately forced him to pull his lips away from her and take a few steps back, gasping for breath as he was unable to hold on any longer and holding onto his staff tightly for support with both hands, sliding down it as his legs gave out and brought him to his knees before her feet. Folding her arms over her chest she watched him pull away from her gripping his staff for dear life as he tried to catch his breath, the smirk she had held moments before the kiss still playing over her lips. Lifting her hand up she let her fingers brush gently over her lips, savoring the feeling that the kiss had brought her. A bead of sweat trickled down from the creased forehead of Jafar's turban and down his cheek, catching on the strong line of his jaw. He remained there, on his knees panting in the heated air, his dark eyes looking up at Maleficent with a face that clearly read 'bewildered' on it. "Well now... That was much more enjoyable than I originally thought it would be... Seems I might have use for you elsewhere thanks to your... Talents..." Taking a few steps forward she placed both her hands on her knees, leaning over so that she could look into his eyes, her head tilting. "What you feel is just the tiniest particle of my power coursing through your body, giving you the power and knowledge that you will need to take Agrabah as your own..." Standing back up straight, her arms folded over her chest, one hand coming up to wave dismissively. "It will take you a while to get used to it of course, not every being can handle this amount of power. But I'm sure you will figure out something... Any questions? Not that I will enjoy answering them, but I thought it the 'moral' thing to ask at this point..." He was sure he was giving her a stupid look. With his mouth still open and his chest heaving... he could only clamp his mouth shut and shake his head no. Words were absolutely beyond him at that point; but she very well already knew that. "Good. Serve me well and you shall be rewarded... Disappoint me... Well, I'm sure you can understand what comes with letting me down Jafar." Tilting her head to the side she reached out her fingers, slowly trailing over his cheek in a seductive manner. "And believe me when I say I would hate to see all your potential go to waste darling... Yes... I will certainly be keeping you close to me; you will be my favorite toy... One I play with often..." Feeling compelled by a force he didn't quite understand, Jafar bent his head down in a bow, keeping his eyes on the stone beneath him. "Y-yes my Queen." A quiet shiver rolled over his spine at the prospect of becoming her new 'toy.' He wasn't naive, he knew exactly what it was that she was implying. What was beyond him was why. He wasn't exactly a catch, he knew he wasn't something pleasing to look at and five years of celibacy in memory of his wife had certainly caught up with him by now... so why? But then he realized... he knew exactly why. Control. Power and absolute control; nothing more. The thought of breaking his vow to Sherrezade had his stomach twisting into very uncomfortable knots, but that would be for a later time to think on. For now, he had only one thing on his mind and that was what he was going to make the Sultan do for him first. Lifting his head to meet Maleficent's eyes, still on bended knee, he blinked to find that she had completely vanished as if she were never there. By Allah, what had just happened?

Clear skies, stars glimmering in the distance like millions of lightning bugs, twinkling in beautiful mystery. The only sounds that could be heard outside were the crashing of waves against the shoreline, receding back into the tide and repeating themselves eternally. The sound of water granted the Sorcerer comfort, as though keeping him company in the long silence that came with midnight's turning. Seated at a marble stone desk that was littered with papers, the Sorcerer had been drawing various sketches and diagrams for longer than he could remember, the writings themselves comprised of a strange language; unlike any other known outside these lands. Each parchment, however, contained one thing in common: an image of a great monstrosity, a creature of magnificent size, resembling what can only be described as some sort of lobster. Containing two sets of pincers that looked large enough to crush a sea vessel with a single snip, the beast looked as though its only purpose was as a war machine; a harbinger of destruction. Engrossed in his work, the Sorcerer neglected to hear the sound of bare footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing slightly louder the closer the footsteps came. A woman made herself known in the common room, garbed only in a thin sarong that covered her womanhood, the woman appeared to hold no reservations being bare-breasted, though showed no intention of purposefully flaunting her voluptuous physique for appeal. The woman moved closer until she was merely inches from the back of the Sorcerer's chair, leaning in slowly and resting her head on his shoulder. "It is late, you should be in bed." The woman said quietly, though her voice was neither stern nor upset. "I was just about to do so before you came down." The Sorcerer replied with a soft smile, returning his quill to its inkpot. Straightening her posture, the woman let her fingers dance through his hair for a few moments before speaking again, this time her tone sounding somewhat more nervous, apprehensive, "I could not wait...there was something I had to tell you." Narrowing his eyes in confusion, the Sorcerer stood up from his chair to speak to her face-to-face. "What is it?" He asked, his tone becoming wary as his stormy blue eyes searched hers for any information. "I am with child." The woman replied, a mixture of excitement and slight fear in her eyes as a small smile played on her lips, unsure as to how the Sorcerer would react to such news. The Sorcerer at first did not respond, instead keeping his gaze fixed on the woman as he seemed to internally process the information. "That's....that's wonderful!" He returned excitedly, beaming as he had finally begun to realize what was going to happen...he was to be a father. Pulling his wife into a tight embrace, the Sorcerer felt fresh tears of joy stream down his face, feeling wholly and completely elated... *~*~* The Sorcerer's eyes fluttered open as he once again entered the world of reality, both a nostalgic and painful feeling settling in his chest as he held onto the memory of days long past. Rising to his feet, the Sorcerer heaved a small sigh as he looked out the mouth of his cave, feeling the beams of morning sunlight providing him with warmth. The early birds sang their chirping songs, and dew on the grass glistened like chrysalis in the sunlight. The Sorcerer held a single gloved hand out in front of him, a smooth black orb apparating in his palm. A perfect sphere, the orb looked as though it simply did not belong in the world. There appeared to be a dark storm or flurry of wind inside the orb, shifting and turning in a constant maelstrom. The Sorcerer raised his free hand above the orb, waving it in a slow circle as he watched the storm seem to fade away and clear, revealing an image of Earth, specifically Lake Tahoe. The Children...well, they aren't children anymore, living their lives in blissful ignorance; unaware of who they were or where they came from. The Sorcerer had watched them since they first came to Earth, all young, all forced into a strange new world with no family there for them. There were days when the Sorcerer felt an inclination to speak to the Guardians, but that was not his position. He was a watcher, an observer...the Guardians would do their job, and the Children would return - when they were ready.

Funes knew why he was visiting a ski resort, but that did not ease his awkward feeling. He never had a chance to try skiing before his accident, and afterwards he had only tried it once. The experience of crashing had been scary enough for him the first time, and he did not need any more memories of it. On previous visits, he spent most of his time sitting in room reading, sometimes looking at the scenic mountain view outside his window. He limited his social interactions to what was necessary for his job as a guardian, observing the two children without engaging them or doing anything to raise suspicion.

This time he would have to talk with an old acquaintance, Ilya Muromets. They respected each other even if they did not always agree. Their worst interaction had ended with Funes mocking Ilya's lack of education and Ilya mocking Funes' cowardice. Funes trusted Ilya but still doubted he would have that much to tell him about the girls, at least not much that was both relevant and unknown to him. The lack of surprise he experienced upon hearing that news was almost exactly the same as the emotions he felt now, when the taxi cab dropped him off at his destination. The ride took the same amount of time, the lodge and the landscape looked exactly the same. The only thing that had changed was now he saw his friend Ilya walking up to help him with his luggage.

Esmeralda's attention was torn away from the woman who sat across from her when the door to their small room opened. She looked at the man who entered before turning back to the woman across the room. The woman was on her feet with a look in her eye that told Esmeralda the woman was terrified. "The King wishes to see you."

The Lady scuffled to the door, trying to make the least amount of noise as possible. Esmeralda, however, didn't move. Her gaze fell on the solider boy, "I have no interest in seeing your King."

The man's face hardened before he stormed over to her and pulled her up to her feet by her arm, "You don't get much of a choice."

"I assume women don't get much of a choice around here, do they?" She asked angrily before she spat in his face. The man growled before he pulled out a dagger and held it to her throat as he brushed away her spit that was starting to run down his face, "I think I'm going to have fun with you, Gypsy."

Esmeralda leaned into the blade slightly, which was clearly not what he was expecting, and smiled, "But you won't get to will you. You retrieve the prisoners... You don't get to play with them."

The guard's face tightened before he lowered his blade and pushed her toward the door, "Move," He grunted which caused Esmeralda to laugh.

The three of them made their way down the hall and Esmeralda looked around as much as she could as she took in the place. She wouldn't be getting much of anywhere with her hands and feet bound the way they were but a girl could dream and this girl would most certainly plan. If handed the chance, she was not being caught again.

They entered a large room with many people standing around and one singular man sitting. She assumed him to be the King. As the woman beside her curtsied, Esmeralda stood tall, staring him down. There was a fire behind his eyes, a dangerous fire.

"Your majesty," The woman said beside her, causing Esmeralda to shake her head little. She was a prisoner; he didn't want to hear her talk. She was curious if this woman had just sealed her fate, "My name is Marguerite Dewinter."

---

Eyes still closed, even after hearing his guards coming back with the prisoners in question, Scar remained perfectly still for a few moments, quelling the anger that was bubbling up inside him at the mention of his brother's name. Thirteen years later and it was still near impossible to keep the beast inside in check; still beyond his control when his anger got the best of him and forced him into changing, still unable to remember a single thing he did or saw *while* transformed. It was perhaps for the best. When that foul sorcerer had cursed his body by bringing out the 'beast' inside he had lost any and all sense of himself, shredding his family of whom he had loved so much with a few quick swipes of his claws.

Opening up his eyes slowly, Scar looked down at his hand, palm facing up. He flexed his fingers, moving them around imitating that of a claw and watched the muscles in his forearm flex. Many lives had fallen victim to this very hand, but none weighed so heavily on him like the blood of his wife and child; despite thirteen years of pampered baths, he felt he was still unable to wash his hands of.

Perhaps it was for the best... Despite years upon years of tormenting nightmares of being forced to watch while a beast tore his family apart, he was sure that the memory of the true instance would have been far, far worse.

Bored with watching his hand, Scar lifted his head up to find two girls standing before him, brought by his soldier as he had asked. Hefting himself back up from the settee, he walked over to them, his eyes flashing dangerously at the girl who spoke so casually to him. With a striking motion, the back of his hand was brought across her face with such a force that she was forced to the floor at his feet.

"Curb your tongue, whore. Now *get up*!"

Marguerite scrambled back to her feet, whatever amount of light she was holding in her completely gone and in its wake, she showed nothing but fear. Her hand itched to touch her now bleeding lip, but pushed her hand back down to her side afraid of even blinking without even so much as his permission. Scar kept his dark eyes trained on her, seeming to size her up. His hand went out to hold her chin, turning her neck this way and that, squinting his eyes a bit. He simply shook his head a bit, releasing her chin from his hold, clear disappointment written on his face as he gestured over to one of the soldiers.

"Put her with the other slave girls; one third the rations. Her face is too full and her hips too narrow..."

Nodding, the soldier took hold of Marguerite and led her away, causing Scar's eyes to happen on the second female brought to him. His expression lightened somewhat, taking in her feminine features, his eyes not at all subtly sizing her up.

"A Gypsy... now isn't this a surprise?" He asked out loud, more to himself than anyone.
He put a finger to his lips, as if in deep thought, crossing his other arm across his chest tucking his hand underneath his armpit, continuing his examination before nodding his head up and down a bit. "You can dance?" He asked.

---

Esmeralda watched as he inspected his hand for some time. This King was clearly insane, although that could be gathered from his stealing of women and league of slaves. She sighed slightly as he rose and walked to Marguerite only to slap the girl with such force that her small frame collapsed to the ground. Esmeralda did her best not to flinch at the sudden show of aggression. She supposed that she should not have expected any less when she had already been preparing herself for the 'worse'. When he turned away from Marguerite Esmeralda was quite sure that she was staring in the eyes of the 'worse'. As he looked her over, she took the time to do the same. He was huge and it was clear from the state of Marguerite's lip that it wasn't all just show.

She pressed her lips together as he spoke aloud. His voice was rather deep, threatening, and was far more fear inducing now than when it was directed at Marguerite, even if he had more anger behind it then. Maybe it played into the way he was looking at her. She had seen men look at her like this before but she was always in a far more favourable position. She was free to do as she wished and could normally nab their knife, if they had one, before they could really try anything. She had always had the option to run. Now, she was truly trapped. She rose her chin in a small act of defiance when he asked about her dancing, "I can," She said simply and coldly, "But not like this," She rose her wrists showing off the rope wrapped tightly around them, "And I dance for money. Not your pleasure."

She was almost certain that in her words she had also just sealed her own fate. She wasn't trying to impress him or hide her displeasure in being in his presence. Her candid response could get her killed or physically harmed by a man who had anger in his heart, an anger that practically radiated off of him.

She lowered her arms back to her lap and stared him in the eye, "Are you going to pay?"

---

Scar dropped his hands back to his sides, reaching one hand out to close his hand around the throat of the Gypsy, applying just enough pressure to make breathing a slight bit more difficult. His face remained the same, however, no new wave of anger at her words, or a look of annoyance; instead, he spread his lips into a wide smile, keeping his dark eyes on hers.

"You dance for your life." He corrected her quietly before forcefully pushing her back out of his grip. Eyes leaving hers, he motioned over to the key guard and had her shackles removed while Scar turned his back and headed back to the settee, stopping at the servant who had his wine along the way. The servant girl poured him another goblet, which Scar took and drank almost immediately, attempting to quench his thirst. Once finished and handing the goblet back to the servant girl, Scar turned his attention back to the Gypsy, walking over to the settee.

"Dance." He instructed and sat himself back down.

---

Esmeralda did her best not to let her face change any when he wrapped his hand around her throat. She couldn't help but let her mouth hang open slightly to make it easier for her breath as he made it difficult. She stumbled slightly when he pushed her away from him and glared daggers into his back when he wasn't looking. She pulled her hands away from the guard after he removed her shackles and rubbed her wrists slightly. At this point, she just wanted to turn and run but she couldn't guarantee that she could get away. She'd get lost in the halls and be caught in no time.

When he turned his attention back to her and ordered her to dance, she made a small face. Orders… that was all she was getting today. People telling her to do whatever was in their best interest. She took a deep breath before she slowly rose her hands over her head, crossing them at the wrists. She began to dance slowly, just her arms moving but it did not take long for the rest of her to begin to move. Her hands went to her skirts, picking them up as she kicked and stomped. Her bracelets clinked all the while, adding an abstract kind of music to the silence of the room. She couldn't stand the quiet much longer before she began to sing quietly in a language that was most likely lost to the people in the room who did not share her upbringings. She moved and she danced and when things got more sultry, large movements of the hips or the shaking of her shoulders, she looked away from Scar and most of the other inhabitants of the room, choosing to stare at a blank wall over another human face. Ultimately, Esmeralda allowed herself to enjoy the dance and song all the same. She might not have wanted to dance for this man or these people but if she was going to be forced to, she might as well enjoy herself. He wasn't going to break her or scare her. This was just another performance in the streets. It was just a slow day where no one gave her change.

She finally brought the dance to a close and for the first time since it started, she looked at Scar. She didn't say anything as her chest rose and fell with her quick breathing. She had no words for him as she rose her chin again her defiance showing through again.

---

Something that resembled amusement was written on Scar's otherwise stone-like features as he watched the Gypsy girl dance in front of him. Relaxing back into the settee with his arms draped on its back once again he simply sat and watched. Though amused, his dark eyes were constantly looking for flaws, anything that would render her incapable of becoming one of his many dancers, but the longer she danced, the more he was enjoying himself; forgetting all about Sarabi who had been chained up to his bed for his later use. When the Gypsy girl had finished, a slight smile split his lips as he simply just looked back at her.

"It's been quite some time since I've seen a woman move for me like that." He complimented. "Perhaps you can teach my dancers a thing or two on pleasing their king?" He raised an arm and snapped his fingers, giving the order for the guards to return the shackles to her wrists and new ones to her feet.

---

The cool feeling of metal wrapped around Esmeralda's wrists and ankles again. She stared at him after his twisted compliment. She bit her tongue wanting to say that she didn't dance for him that she had danced for herself, he had merely told her to move. However, she knew saying this could cause great risk to her well-being if she did so. He had already showed her once that he would not take her defiance by choking her; she did not wish to see how he might demonstrate it again. It was his question that toked the fire in her. She stood tall despite the chains on her hands weighing her down, "I will not," She said, looking him in the eye, "My dances are for Gypsies. You learn them from birth or you do not learn them at all."

This wasn't true. People had joined the Romani, after living lives that were viewed as normal to the mass majority, learnt the steps, and joined the dancing. There was no way though that she was going to teach a bunch of captives traditional Romani dances just to please a sadistic king. She held her hands in front of herself, "If you wish to see my dancing... You'll just have to keep me alive."

She supposed that was one way to ensure her safety. So long as he enjoyed her performances, he would not want to kill her... That being said, it didn't mean that he wouldn't...

---

Scar's wide smile turned into a twisted smirk, a light huff almost considered a chuckle coming out in his throat as he removed himself from the settee and stood up tall once again. Crossing the room back to her, knowing there was very little she could do now that she was bound again, he reached a hand out to grasp her chin roughly with his thumb and jerked her head to the side, forcing her to crane her neck to him.

"You've got fire..." He observed, jerking her head in the other direction as he let his eyes settle on the angle of her neck and the muscles hidden there beneath the skin. Releasing his hand from her chin then to allow her free motion of her own neck, Scar turned his head and nodded over to the direction of the guard who had control over the keys to her shackles. "Let's see if we can't amend that." Scar finished without even so much as looking back at the Gypsy, instead keeping his eyes on the guard that seemed to be getting the idea of what was on his King's mind. "Perhaps after a good lashing you'll be more compliant." Finally looking back at her, he raised his arm once again to brush the backs of his fingers against her cheek, tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear in what would have been an intimate gesture if it weren't for the man behind it. "It pains me to have to mutilate your body in this way but you leave me no choice. I am your King, and you will remember your place in my presence."

The soldier had reached them by this time and grabbed onto Esmerelda's forearm, forcefully pulling on her to have her follow.

---

Esmeralda wished to risk a small step back as Scar walked up to her. He didn't seem angry... amused almost but that seemed to scare her more. Something about an insane man finding amusement struck an unnerving cord in her. She stood her ground all the same; the step wasn't going to stop him advancing. She swallowed as he took hold of her chin and stared up at him before he forced her to turn her head. She looked at him from the corner of her eye and was utterly confused at what it was he was looking at. She said nothing to him as he turned her head the other way without tenderness or warning. She moved her head back slowly when he released her chin, taking time to be gentle to her neck in ways that he had not been. She looked up at him as he spoke, his eyes elsewhere in the room and her heart felt as though it stopped when he spoke of lashing.

She stared up at him, her eyes wide and he was enjoying this. No matter the words that came out of his mouth about it being difficult, he was enjoying this! She winced as he touched her cheek, revolted entirely by him. She kept her eyes on him as the man grabbed her arm and pulled her away. It wasn't until they came to a standstill that she looked away from him. Esmeralda was forced to her knees and was held as another soldier removed one of her wrists from her chains before wrapping her arms around the pole in front of her and trapping her hand in the metal once more.

Her breathing picked up when she felt cold fingers against her back before the sound of cloth ripping filled her ears as her dress hung loosely at her sides. She closed her eyes tightly and tried to keep calm but she could not help but cry out as the whip cut into her skin. She wanted to be strong to not make a sound through the torture but it hurt. It brought tears to her eyes as the man ruthlessly bore down on her with no sign of stopping. After sometime, she managed to get her wits about her, her back actually numbing to the stinging of the open wounds and searing of flesh being ripped. She tightened her hands into fists, the fire in her erupted with each lash; she was more and more infuriated with what Scar thought it was in his right to do. She took a deep breath, "I will not teach them," She yelled before the whip came down again and caused her to grunt, "I will not teach them," She said again and again, each time the whip was pulled back she'd yell before it cracked down again and again.

---

From behind her, Scar let out a frustrated growl as he stormed over to the soldier in control of the whip. Despite her bare backside being red, bloodied, and raw against her darkened skin it wasn't enough. She refused to give. Grabbing the whip from the soldier and forcefully shoving the man aside, Scar stooped down behind her, balancing himself on the balls of his feet with his legs bent in order to bend his neck forward and reach his lips to her ear.

"Shall we play a guessing game? Hmm?" He asked, using his free hand to brush her raven locks to the side so that her neck was no longer hidden from him. With her hair out of the way, he brought his hand back to her shoulder, fingertips dancing across her neck as he did with such a light touch he could barely feel her skin under his calloused hand. "How many strikes, by *my* hand, before you black out?" He kept his voice low in an almost whisper, his tone even and collected despite the nature of his words. "If you're wrong, and when you wake, we will play again... and again... and again until you get it right by sheer luck. I will not hold back, not like Banzai over there who still holds onto a shred of empathy for some of my slaves."

He removed himself then from their close proximity and stood up tall, slapping the end of the whip into his outstretched hand forcing the leather to wrap around it a few times.

"Now, give me a number *Gypsy*."

---

Esmeralda's entire body tensed as she felt Scar move alongside her before he spoke softly in her ear. She looked at him from the corner of her eye as he pushed the hair away from her neck, her jaw clenched all the while. Her breathing quickened, her chest pressing against the now loose fabric of the shredded cloth she once called a dress. Her heart was pounding her chest, which she could assume was not any good for her back as it pumped the blood out of her wounds. When he moved away from her, she wiped her wet cheek on her shoulder and licked her dry lips, her body relaxing ever so slightly. When he asked for a number she hesitated before speaking, "I will not play your game, *Your Majesty*," She said with a sharpness to her tone.

She stared straight ahead at the post in front of her, trying to breathe through the sting pain, "Your kind have toyed with the Gypsies and I for long enough... I will *not* willingly entertain you’re sick and twisted amusement," She looked over her shoulder as best she could, a fire burning behind her wet tear filled eyes, "You are a monster."

---

Somehow, through the bitter bite of the Gypsy's words, Scar found amusement. Scoffing lightly he removed the leather strip from around his hand he used his wrist to flick the whip a bit to get it into a straight line.

"You won't play my game, but I will." He responded coldly before bringing his strong arm back and with the power of an Elite Guard Captain brought the whip down on her back, the force nearly ten-fold as the soldier who had been given the task of whipping her in the first place.

"One."

Scar pulled his hand back, watching a fresh wave of blood staining her skin from torn gash across her back and brought the whip back down on her again, hitting the same exact spot.

"Two..."

---

Blood rushed in Esmeralda's ears as the King spoke. She took a deep breath and prepared herself, she considered this all just a small break from the torment that he wished against her. She tightened her hands into fists and prepared herself. However, nothing could have prepared her for the pain that erupted through her back causing her to scream against her wishes. She wanted to be strong against him. She wanted to stare him down and hold her ground. That was not going to happen and she knew it as the whip bore down on her again with horrid precision causing her to cry out again and in a moment of weakness between stroke, even whimper.

She did not last long before spots appeared in her eyes and a ringing tore through her ears. She could not imagining standing as kneeling in front of him caused her to wobble and shake until her body could no long handle anymore. She did not go far as she slumped against the pillar and onto her side. The blood from her back slowly trickled down and onto the floor.

---

Watching the Gypsy finally slump to the floor, a satisfied smirk came across his lips as he handed over the bloodied whip to a guard. Tilting his neck slightly one way and then another, he just looked down at the unconscious girl and shook his head, watching the blood pool down onto the marble floor beneath her.

"Get this place cleaned up." He barked to a guard, turning his back on the girl and began to head towards the double doors that would lead him out of the room. "Make sure she gets new clothes to match the others... dark blue I think and then put her with the others. Keep a guard on her at all times and alert me when she wakes."

"Sir!" The guard bowed quickly and went to collect the girl. Scar pushed open the doors and walked briskly through the corridor towards his bed chambers. The torture wouldn't stop at the Gypsy girl.

There was a small group starting to gather in the lobby, though most kept their distance almost everyone within thirty feet of the man in the center had their heads turned to him, giving him their attention even if they didn't want to. It was the same thing every day for a week now. In order to start familiarizing himself with the area, Alan had figured that his best shot at getting the job done was to get his face well recognized. Sure he could have just purchased an all-access pass to the resort and got his name spread around that way, but there were plenty of other things he'd rather blow his money on and this... this was just too much fun. "Alright, alright... who's got a quarter? Anyone got a quarter?" Alan asked, directing the crowd in a way that made one wonder if he was just born with a high aptitude for charisma. A few people fidgeted, digging around in their pockets and purses until one girl finally found what he was looking for and handed it over. Alan took the quarter, flashing the girl a smile and then palmed it in his hand, making sure those close enough were able to see. "You know how people change the consistency of metals?" He asked, in return getting a few blank stares back, causing Alan to re-illiterate. "You squeeze a piece of metal and it gets hot in your hand right? You change the consistency of metal..." He explained, bringing awareness to the small crowd. "Well look.. watch..." He pinched the quarter between his fingers, licked his lips a few times and brought the quarter to his lips and stuck it halfway between his teeth, keeping his fingers away so that everyone could see. With what looked like a bit of struggle on his end, Alan eventually pulled the quarter from his clenched teeth and revealed what looked like bite marks on the quarter, as if he had taken a bite out of a cookie. This caused a small amount of panic and unbelief to those around him watching as Alan just smirked and 'chewed up' the bit of quarter he had 'bitten' off. "Wait... wait... watch, look..." Alan said, calling their attention back to him. Holding up the bitten quarter for them to see with his thumb and forefinger, he made a spitting gesture and the quarter was made whole again. The crowd's reaction doubled, one girl even screamed getting the attention of the very few in the room who didn't want to be bothered by such a nuisance. He wasn't exactly sure why he had ended up in a ski lodge in Lake Tahoe of all places. All Alan knew was that one minute, he was living a pretty good life of Street Magic on the streets in New York, getting paid decently for his impromptu shows (and even better after cashing in the little trinkets he managed to snatch from his customers while they weren't looking) but for the last month before his surprise trip to the other side of the country he had been getting some very strange, vivid dreams. The dreams themselves didn't explain anything, they were just flashes of his life back home, back with his Papa Geppetto; flashes of The Blue Fairy and of a cloaked sorcerer who gave him the necklace he never went without, and then flashes of this place. He wasn't sure why *this* place of all places in the world was somehow linked to his past, but each time these dreams came he woke with a start, the necklace around his neck burning hot against his skin forcing Alan to remember why he had been sent here in the first place. While the crowd worked off their excitement, Alan couldn't help but to feel the weight of the small pendant around his neck, worn underneath his dark blue t-shirt in case it drew any unwanted attention. He had made that mistake already by running into one of the guardians who apparently worked at the lodge who recognized it first hand. He wouldn't be making that mistake again; that conversation had been awkward enough but at least he knew he was in the right place. He had come to the conclusion long ago that it was the necklace that was driving him to remember these things; even if it was in dream. Something wanted him here, and after waiting thirteen years for even a sliver of a clue as to what he was supposed to do, it finally came. Gods. Had it truly been thirteen years that he had been here? It certainly didn't feel like it was that long. He could still remember the very day he came out through the other side of the portal, he could even still remember the feeling of overwhelming fear that came over him when he realized that he had come through alone. There were so many people around him when the portal opened, so many children though younger than him, were still children he could relate to. There were two older guys with the group as well, but he hadn't been paying them too much attention though the brute he had run into at the lodge on his second day here had been one of them. But as he watched the portal closing up behind him he had the sickening feeling of complete isolation, realizing that he had been somehow separated... he vomited. That was when he had also come to realize he was no longer made of wood. It was strange to get used to all the... fleshy bits and needs of a true human body. And though he was alone from his world, clutching onto the necklace given to him by the cloaked sorcerer for dear life, help had arrived as he had run into a group of homeless boys that took care of themselves, reminding him of his time spent on Pleasure Island... but without the donkeys. It took nearly four years after that before he started to forget about why he had been sent here. The children he was sent to look after only just flashing images in his brain as it was getting harder and harder to remember what they looked like. However with the constant companionship of the necklace given to him by the cloaked sorcerer, he could never truly forget, but how was he to watch after the children if he couldn't find them? And so he pushed aside his duties as guardian and tried to focus more on the life that he was creating for himself here. It wasn't much of a life... but what else could he do? Pulling himself from his thoughts as some of the people around him started to beg for another trick, Alan pulled out a brand new, sealed deck of cards from his pocket, handing it to the a red-headed woman who was new into joining the group. "You wanna see some magic?" He asked the girl. From what he could tell she was somewhere in her mid twenties, maybe a year or two older than him... worthy of a second glance as she took the deck from him and muttered a shy "sure." "Go ahead and open that up. There are fifty-two cards in that deck... I want you to pick *one*. Show those around you but don't show me." The woman did as he asked and unwrapped the new box, handing one of her friends the plastic garbage so that she had a free hand. Thumbing through the deck she picked out the four of diamonds and showed everyone, going out of her way to make sure Alan didn't see. "Put it face down on top." He instructed and the red-head complied before Alan took the deck back from her. "Alright, I'm going to cut the deck in half..." He did so. "and put it back in the box." He slipped the cards back into the box and then handed it back over to the woman. "Alright, just hold onto that but not too tight, just loose enough that you feel like you might drop it but don't actually drop it." The woman nodded and Alan pointed to the top of the deck where the flap was still open. "Alright now I'm not sure if I can get this to work... it's a new deck after all..." There was a change... suddenly, a single card from the middle of the deck seemed to be wedging it's way out of the deck, like an invisible finger was pulling it up from the box millimeter by millimeter. Just that was enough to shock everyone around them and the red-head nearly dropped the box, making Alan put his hand on hers to keep her from doing so. "Just watch, I need to know if I got your card right." A few silent moments later, and the top of the card was revealed, the four of diamonds.

Daria's gaze was torn away from the flames that had been warming her feet when a man gathered a small group asking about a quarter. She was slightly confused at first, this was a high end resort after all... Peddlers were not even allowed on the property so much as actually in the lodge. It took her a moment to realize that he was doing magic. She stood and walked over to the group and watched as he performed his second trick. She crossed her arms as she watched him with the girl. Her father had a fascination with magic tricks, he would have gotten a kick out of this guy. She'd have to tell him all about it when they called. She looked at the guy and smirked, she was pretty sure she knew had the trick worked. It was all just counter weights and fancy packaging but she wasn't going to ruin that for everyone who seemed genuinely impressed. That would be just cruel.

Her attention was caught then by the buzzing her pocket. Reaching into her coat, she pulled out her cellphone to see a text from Annelise. She squealed a little as she walked away from the group quickly heading toward the door as she texted the girl. _Checked in a short while ago. OMW!!_

As she walked out the door, she passed Clyde as he carried in her skis and her snowboard. The former for when her parents arrived and the latter for the week on her own. She grabbed her snowboard and her boots from him and quickly slipped off the shoes she was wearing and handed them to him before kissing his cheeks, "Thanks tons!"

She put on her boot and picked up her board before she headed out into the snow. She got to the ski lift and spotted the two girls and squealed again before she hugged them, "Gosh, I have missed the two of you!!"

Peter smiles at her and says, "Yeah. I have been skiing my whole life." It is their turn to go up and he walks slightly ahead of her, smiling at the man. One of the chairs begins to come back around and he walks up there, pulling her up with him carefully. The person manning the ski lift looks curiously at the two as they walk up, but he doesn't notice. Peter watches the ski lift chair swing all the way around until it was a few feet away from them. "Get ready," he says before grabbing her waist and lifting her up onto the ski lift. As soon as he sets her down, he jumps on and the lid begins to ascend. He looks over the mountain, his beanie pulling at his hair as he turns his head. It's beautiful. The white snow glitters under the sun and he smiles, looking over at her. "See, that wasn't so bad was it?" He grins at her.

He looks away from her again to attach his custom made snowboard to his boots. Once he has them clipped on, he looks over the mountain again with a smile and a sigh. He leans back in the ski lift slightly and it tilts a little. He doesn't notice that much. "I've always wished I could stay like this," he tells her. "Just kinda being like a kid forever you know?" He says this with a sad smile and looks down to see some of the kids he brought up going down the Bunny Hill. "Those kids are what keep me a kid, though. I love them to death. I don't know what I would do if I had to leave them." He sighs again and faces forward.

---

The hand around her waist brought Rapunzel pause. It was unexpected from the man whom she had only just met but she said nothing of it as he lifted her off of her feet and placed her onto the ski lift. She wondered if he always was like this... Agtha said some people were just overly touchy. She had done the hair of an elderly lady who just loved to pinch her cheeks and touch her shoulder and pat her hand. This wasn't the same though, she supposed he had a purpose for the touching, which made it a lot less strange. She laughed a little, feeling slightly foolish about thinking it difficult, "I suppose not."

She gasped a little when they left the small little station at the bottom of the hill and it opened up to the entire mountain side and they started rising. Heights had never really bother Rapunzel, although, she wasn't really sure why. She leaned forward slightly with Peter as she looked around and he spoke. He didn't give her much of a chance to answer his question but she waited quietly as he spoke about some children on the Bunny Hill. She wondered if he looked after them at all. When he faced forward, the chair lift shook more than it had the first and caused Rapunzel to jump and wrap her arms around Peter's arm. She looked around them then slowly back at him. She laughed a little, loosening her grip, "Umm... I don't know actually," She said quietly as she brushed a piece of hair under her tuque, "I don't actually... remember what it's like to be a kid... Or much of anything else..." She laughed awkwardly before releasing him and looking over her shoulder at the lake behind them, "I-I knew there would be a good view...."

---

He grins at her as she grabs his arm. She makes the comment about not knowing what it was like as a kid and he nods carefully, facing forward again. "Yeah, neither do I so much. Well, I remember a little bit. But how those kids act, the ones I look out for I mean, makes me wish that I did remember. That way I could know what it actually feels like." They almost reach the top of the mountain as she says, "I-I knew there would be a good view..." He nods again with another smile.

"Yeah, the view is always fairly good from up here." They reach the part where they are supposed to get off. The small rise that lets skiers and snowboarders slide down with ease comes up and he grabs her arm. "Here we go." He gently picks her up, placing the front of his snowboard on the top of the rise. He tilts down and they slide down into the open area above the hill. He sets her back down and smiles, pulling down his goggles. "You going to be okay up here? I will be doing a couple run throughs."

---

Rapunzel loosened her grip on his arm more so as they came to the top of the hill and the ground became considerably closer. She looked at him when he took hold of her arm, waiting for him to tell her when to get off. She had watched the chair in front of them swing by, she was sure she could just jump off and run. However, it seemed as though Peter had a different idea as his hand moved from her arm and he was picking her up again. She couldn't help but squeal a little and cling to him as they slid down the small slope with her perched at the front of his board.

When they came to a stop, she laughed and stepped off the board and looked up at him as he pulled his goggles on and asked if she was going to be okay. She nodded her head, "Ya, I'll be fine."

She walked away from him and got down on her knees and placed her hand in the snow. She had never seen this much snow before. Piling the snow up, Rapunzel fashioned a lovely seat of herself before she drapped her outer coat on it. She picked up her bag and grabbed her book out from him. She placed it on her lap and began to draw the view that she saw laid out in front of her.

---

Peter looks back at her as she creates a snow chair. He gives a little smile before pulling his gloves on farther and adjusting his goggles. He slides over to the top of the slope. He stares down at the long drop before him with a smile and looks back over his shoulder at Rapunzel. He then faces forward once again and drops down onto the slope with an excited yell.

Daria made a face when Annelise told her that she should have texted them sooner, "Sorry. It was a long trip here and I asked about you guys. So when the desk lady said you'd probably be around soon... I curled up in front of the fire... There's a guy doing magic in the lobby too. He's hot."

However, she started to shake her head when Eliza told her that she had to head back in because she had to get to work, "No, no, nooo, you're going to be working all week! Surely your dad won't mind if you're like... *five* minutes late."

Eliza took off all the same, quickly followed by Annelise. Daria looked at the girl with a slight look of confusion as she fell in to stride beside her. When Annelise pulled Eliza's board from her sister's hands before running off, Daria's jaw dropped before she started to laugh a little. She smiled at Eliza and took hold of her hands, "Come on, it is just one run and I promise that I will help you plan the most lovely party because we both know that I can throw and damn good party."

She adjusted her tuque and grinned at her friend as she walked backwards towards the lifts. She shook her own board in front of her a little, taunting Eliza, "You know you wanna."

With that Daria turned and ran to the ski lift and hopped onto the chair beside Annelise, "She's going to kill you... You are aware of that, right?"

Esmeralda woke up slowly as she struggled to stay awake from long periods of time. She came in and out of consciousness with no sign of being awake other than her eyes opening for moment. When she finally managed to keep her eyes open, she took everything in. Her back stung and was quite sore but she was grateful to have been placed on her stomach, not wanting to know what it would feel like to lie on her back in this state. She could also feel something slimy on her back and wondered if someone had actually attended to her and put salve on it or if she was still bleeding.

She started to sit up when she felt a large hand on her shoulder. She winced away from it and lowered herself back down onto the surprisingly comfortable bed, "Don't touch me," She hissed unaware of who the hand even belonged to.

The hand removed itself from her shoulder before hitting her on her back without remorse, "Learn you place, Gypsy, I believe that is the reason you are in this position."

Esmeralda bit her lip through the pain that erupted through her back before it faded back to a dull pain. She didn't meet the man's eyes or even look in his direction but instead allowed for her gaze to fall upon her shoulder and the extremely thin strip dark blue fabric that she wore. Someone had changed her and although she was somewhat glad to be out of the now rags she had been wearing when she arrived, she felt now as though she were the King's property. She dare not think about who it was who had changed her into the clothing and that she could only assume from Scar's personality didn't cover much. She spoke to her shoulder when she finally did, "What is it that you are doing here?"

"King Scar has ordered that a guard remain with you at all times and to alert him when you are awake," He told her in a cool and stern tone.

Esmeralda sighed, "Well... I am awake am I not?" She did not wish to come face to face with the Beast King ever again but she knew that she would have to. Sooner or later this soldier would realize that she was awake that that he was to tell his King. She had might as well get it over with rather than wait. She heard the soldier murmur something before a door opened and a second voice spoke. Then there was running and the door closing, more murmuring before a chair was moved slightly and someone sat down.

She sighed as she continued to look at the only piece of clothing she could see.

---

With the back of the chair facing front, Scar sat down, stradeling his legs on either side of the chair and rested his arms on the top of the back, resting his chin on the top of his hands. She wasn't looking at him, but he didn't care, she didn't need to. She need to only hear his voice and understand the words that came from him. He didn't bother with having her brought back to him in the room they had been in beforehand. Once he heard that the Gypsy had woken up only an hour after blacking out he came straight to the chambers reserved solely for his dancers. It was a large room, fit for the Queen herself if there was one. Lavish furniture filled the room; beds, couches, cushions, chairs... not a single inch left untouched by physical comforts. There was, however, a smaller room adjoining this one that remained practically empty for the dancers to practice their craft for him. Each dancer was dressed to match, the only difference being different shades and colors of cloth but the Gypsy was the only one in dark blue.

The dancers were absolutely given more priveleges than anyone else in the castle, including Scar's royal guards. Not a single woman was shackled, free to roam around the rooms as they pleased. They had bathing rights whenever they so wished and a never-ending supply of fresh food, water and wine to indulge in when one wasn't forced into giving up this luxury when her body began to fill out in places Scar didn't approve of. Overall he took very good care of his dancers, they were his main source of entertainment after all...

"Are you ready to play again? Or have you decided to make this easy on yourself?" He asked keeping his tone light and casual. Lifting his chin from his hands he looked down at her and with a sweeping motion of his hand, gestured to the room around them despite her not meeting his eye. "Take a look around you Gypsy. Everything you could ever want, right here. Does this not please you?"

---

Esmeralda flinched at the sound of Scar's voice behind her. All she could think of was the humor in his voice as he spoke about his sick little game. She took a deep breath and slowly sat up with a great deal of effort and pain. She looked down at herself for a moment to find her stomach completely exposed to him and one of her legs sticking out of a slit that ran from the bottom of her floor length skirt to the belt of fabric that hung low on her hips. For the first time, she took in the room. It was... amazing. Living on the streets was not a lavish lifestyle. She danced most days for money to buy food and here it was just sitting there waiting for her. The riches in the room enticed her but they did not please her. She finally brought her gaze to Scar, "No. I want my freedom. I do not see that here."

She slowly pushed herself to her feet and walked away from him, creating more space between the two of them. It hurt her greatly to move as she was but she pushed through it not wanting to be near him. She wrapped her arms around her waist as she fixed her gaze toward the other women, who seemed so happy to be held captive. None of them were Gypsies. Esmeralda was not too surprised. The Romani had fled the cities years ago, going back to the country side where they had roamed for so long. If any man or woman tried to steal a Gypsy from their camps... They would find themselves in less favourable positions. The Romani weren't always very forgiving folks. She stared at them as she addressed Scar's first question to her, "I've said it once and I will say it again, my dances are for the Gypsies... I will not teach it to your slaves, *Your Majesty*."

She turned to him, her chin high, "I... will dance for you as you wish but my dances will die with me."

---

He remained in the chair, resting his arm back down on top of the other and just looked upon the Gypsy girl thoughtfully. His eyes looked her over once, twice, three times before he met her gaze, mentally congratulating himself for the choice of dress design he had created for his dancers.

"You don't give a *pet* freedom." Scar replied, practically spitting out the word but her remained otherwise calm. If anything she was only bringing him more amusement causing his normally blackened eyes to lighten into a soft brown shade. He had been putting up with girls like these for far too many years to let her words irk him... there were ways around it.

"Well now, it seems you still haven't learned your place here in my kingdom. I'd be more than happy to remind you." Sitting up a bit on the chair, he brought in his lower lip into his mouth and gave a short whistle, gaining the attention of the guard standing watch at the doors. "Bring the whip, the willow one. Leather is too soft." He ordered the guard who in turn nodded and left the room. Scar, smirking, turned his attention back to the Gypsy. "How many times this time do you think?" He asked sounding genuinly curious.

---

She exhaled sharply through her nose when he called her a pet. How badly she wanted to be free of this disgusting man. To put on him all the ill tortures he had put on herself and the many before her. She was not sure that any of it would sit well in her stomach though. Esmeralda had killed once before. She had drove a kinfe between a man's ribs that turned into a fatal blow but she had done so in self defense. She viewed that differently to actively seeking out and enjoying the pain of others. She tore her eyes from the women on the other side of the room and was curious as to how many lashings they had recieved or witnessed. Maybe they had given in to him quickly, glad to dance in exchange for a lavish lifestyle that he offered them. That almost disgusted her as much as Scar did. Giving up their freedom for material possessions.

Esmeralda took a deep breath was he questioned her again about how many lashings she believed she would remain conscious through. She glared at him, "I will not give you the satisfaction of playing your sick game with you," She walked over to him before she turned and lowered herself to her knees. She placed her hands against the bed and prepared herself. She hoped that her being so compliant in this part of the game while refusing the other would make it all a little less enjoyable for him. However, she believed him actually curious in seeing what all it was that she could withstand... Whether she played the game or not, whether she fought him or not, he was going to enjoy himself because, "You're a sick bastard," She said speaking to the floor as she awaited the next lashing.

---

Watching her as she put herself on the floor at his feet, waiting for the beating that she knew was to come, Scar shook his head no and got up and out of the chair. Grabbing onto her wrist, he pulled her back to her feet forcefully and turned her around so that her back was to him.

"Not yet." He snapped before moving his hand from her wrist to the strap on her shoulder that kept the bra-like top on her chest. Sliding it down her shoulder with a gentle touch, he moved his hand to do the same to the other side, the fabric practically falling to her feet with the support no longer there. "No sense in bloodying up a perfectly good outfit." He explained with a cold snicker and then with his hand to the back of her neck, forced her back down onto the ground on her knees. The soldier had returned by this time, handing Scar the willow whip he had asked for. With his hand still on her neck he pushed her forward onto her hands with her already marred back exposed to him entirely.

"Last chance Gypsy." Scar warned, flicking the whip forward a foot or so away from her face so she could hear the cracking sound it made in the air.

---

A gasp escaped her lips when she was suddenly pulled to her feet. She looked at him confused for a moment before he turned her away from him. She felt his callused fingers on her shoulder again as he removed one strap of her top and then the other before removing the garment entirely and allowed it to fall to the ground. She brought her hands up to cover her chest and she huffed a little at his comment. She lowered herself to the ground as he applied pressure to the back of her neck and listened as footsteps approached him and heard something exchange hands, the whip no doubt. Her hands dropped in front of her when he pushed her forward onto them but she snaked on arm up to keep her decent while the other remained on the ground a moment after.

When the whip cracked next to her ear, she flinched away from it slightly, however, his words infuriated her as he continued to toy with her. She looked over her shoulder, "For what? To beg for mercy," She spat at his feet before turning back around, "It disgusts me that you think that Gypsies are the kind of people to beg on their hands and knees."

---

Scar took a few steps and squatted down beside her, using his free hand to brush her hanging hair behind her ear a bit so he could see her eyes.

"You don't have to beg." He told her quietly. "Not if you play nice and do what it is I have to say." He moved his hand from her hair to touch gently at her bare shoulder, running his finger along the skin, his eyes on his hand as he moved his finger back and forth slowly before letting his black orbs settle back on her.

"Teach the other dancers Gypsy, and I'll leave you be. Refuse me, and I'll make an example of you yet." He said, his voice getting harder and threatening. His other hand moved forward, flicking his wrist a bit so that the tail end of the whip was lying out on the floor in front of her, showing her what it was that he would embed into her flesh if she didn't comply.

---

Goosebumps rose along her skin as he ran his fingers over her shoulder. Esmeralda let out a ragged breath as he spoke to her, his voice not matching the seemingly tender movements of his hand. Her eyes lowered to the ground when she heard the whip hit the floor in front of her. She stared at it for sometime before looking back at Scar. She looked into his dark eyes and brought up her courage again. She spat in his face, her jaw tense, "Do what you will."

She turned her head away from him, "There is nothing that you can do to me that will make me teach them."

He could be tender, she had seen it in him... For just a moment. However, she had more pride in her than to ever think of teaching Gypsy dances because she wanted his tenderness. She casted it aside from her head and brought up all horrid things he had done in the incredibly short period they had been together. Slapped Marguerite so hard that she bled, he had choked her, forced her to dance, he had a man whip her and, when that wasn't good enough, he whipped her himself. Now, after just waking up from the torture he had done upon her he was going to do it all again. Her eyes hardened as she stared ahead of her awaiting the whip.

---

The moment she spat on his face his free hand shot out and grabbed her jaw, thumb on one side and the other four fingers on the other. His hold on her was so tight that her lips were forced open and pushed outwards a bit.

"You *will* teach them." He replied in a cold whisper. "I've only just begun." Tightening his grip on her even more before he pulled away, Scar stood back up and used the back of his arm to wipe her spit away. He moved back behind her and rolled his neck around his shoulders, rewarded by a few cracking sounds that brought immediate release to his tightened muscles. Drawing the whip back, he flexed the muscles in his arm and hailed down the whip onto her back, cutting the flesh where it had been left unmarred with deadly force. He pulled his hand back again and let the strip fly back down onto her back, brushing up against the cut that he had given her the previous time knowing that the skin surrounding the laseration would be at its most tender.

Two more times and the Gypsy finally collapsed, though for good measure Scar let down the whip on her back once more. As two soldiers scrambled to collect her off the floor, Scar handed the whip off to a third.

"Find me another Gypsy, I don't care if it's male or female, young or old. Just get me one. If she won't break by her body, then I will break her by her mind."

Taking the whip, the solder nodded and hurried off. Scar took a moment to look back at the Gypsy as the soldiers hoisted her up onto a bed after wrapping her wounds (so as not to get blood on the sheets) and sneered. She would break for him. This he was certain of.

---




Peter slides down quickly, swaying back and forth on the run. He notices that on this particular run there are jumps and logs to do tricks on. He goes toward one of the jumps and ramps up it, doing a flip as he does. He lands safely and leans forward, increasing his speed. He shifts side to side and he speeds up, going down the slope faster. He does this with a smile and skids to a stop once he is down at the bottom of the hill. He immediately gets back in line for the lift and keeps going again.

After his fifth or sixth time, he pulls up next to a stop next to Rapunzel. He looks over her shoulder to see what she is drawing before saying, "You should ride down. It is fun. Come on!"

---

Rapunzel gasped when Peter's voice piped up next to her. Luckily, she had been inspected how the light was hitting the lake below and wasn't in the midst of drawing anything to accidentally run her pencil across the page. She looked up at Peter to seem him looking over her shoulder at her sketch book and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She shook her head, "I haven't got a board or boots... and I don't know how to... I'll ride down the chair lift," She said with a smile. She'd probably be the only one but she wasn't going to walk down the mountain while people were doing crazy tricks all around her. Besides, it was an awfully long way down.

She smirked at him, "Although standing on the front of your snowboard from there to here was fun... I don't think it would be entirely safe to do it all the way down the mountain."

She flipped her pencil over and erased some of the shading of the lake to make it look like the light bounching off of it. She caught sight of her fingers and saw the beds of her nails had turned purple at some point. She stood and grabbed her coat off her snow chair and pulled it back on before she closed her book and put it back into her bag, "I should probably get back down to the lodge anyways... Before I get hypothermia..."

She played with her braid after she pulled her bag back onto her shoulder, "Enjoy the rest of your snowboarding," She said with a smile.