The Chamber of the Black Queen

[Shego]

[glow=green,2,800]Shego watched the two converse, and like Beatrix remained quiet, if only for a while. She felt a little at the notes within her secret pockets and contemplated long and hard for some sort of solution. She stood up from the Victorian chair, and looked to Sarah, giving her a fake, though convincing innocent smile, "Well, rest up, Sarah." she would speak in a soft tone, "If you need anything, feel free to ask Acteur here." she nodded to the man, knowing he wanted as much information from the girl as the thief did.

"Sadly, I have some chores to do, so I can't stay and chat." She turned in place and headed to the door, "Still Call me, beep-- ..." she stopped herself, clearing her throat, "Contact me if you need me, Poe, ya know how." - She left, leaving the door opened behind her, in case Beatrix wanted to join. The green woman, once out of the chambers, shivered at her own sweet act. It could of KILLED her to be so nice to some girl! Yet, she shrugged it off, and started to make her way toward the dark library.

"I need a plan... I need a plan." she repeated, opening the doors of the quiet study hall, and looking about, searching for books here, and there. Opening to pages, blank ones... examining older books which had the same consistency and feel as the Notes she possessed, "Think Shego, think..." she mumbled, scavenging similar papers. She rushed over to the table, and brushed it off ANYTHING that wasn't her new project. She set everything down nice and easy. Blank, old looking papers in front-- and now ink. She would look through the cabinets and small slots to get a... (She took out the keyblade notes and looked at them a moment) ... Yes, a feather pen and some ink. An idea was slowly brewing, "Good good...this is good." she continued to mumble to herself, retrieving similar looking ink and a dusty feather.

The thief grunted a little, moving a Victorian chair closer to her working station, sat down, and began to examine the letter. She had 4 pages, and out of those four, she would use one to practice. First, she wrote down what was on the page, a few sentences to get the feel of the handwritting....

'Chasers are the original creators of the Keyblade...'.. The first try was not bad, but she had to be better. 'Chasers are the original creators of the Keyblade.' she repeated, almost there. 'Chasers are the original creators of the Keyblade.' she would write again, this time seeming almost identical...

Now, under the three sentences, she would begin a new one with the same style of writing: "Drifters... are the.... creators of... Keychains." she tried to test it, comparing the handwriting to the original one, and pondering.

Shego wrote part of the original down:' Currently, however, the term “chaser” applies to any person with the ability to craft a Keyblade.' - It looked identical to the original. Alright, getting there.

She then wrote something false, in identical handwriting: "Currently, however, the term "drifter" applies to one person who can first..." she paused, trying to think of something good, "... harness and control their dreams." she continued, "I believe that a specific kind of dream is required, and that these people held some sway over their mind, as the Keyblade and the mind seem irrefutably connected by... thoughts?"

The thief looked down at her false note, looking for errors here and there. She was talented when it came to falsifying signatures and letters, so it was second nature... she just needed help on the damn wording. She grumbled, reaching up to rub a little at her forehead with gloved fingers, "I think I might need a little help..." [/glow]

[Atticus the Fallen]

"Do you require assistance, Shego?" that familiar voice would echo against the darkness in the chamber where Shego had begun her work. If she looked behind her, she would notice Atticus walking THROUGH the door, his form transluscent at first until solidifying once he was all the way inside, like a ghost or demon...

"I did not wish to frighten you... so I came in the traditional way. Through the door," pun. Cuddles would scamper past him and attempt to look on the table to see what Shego was doing, standing on tip-toe with his yellow eyes barely able to peek over the edge. The dark one would look up a moment, the castle rumbling below his feet.

"Jafar has awakened... I think things are about to get very interesting..." he then walked forward and observed the theif's work, nodding. "It would seem you've proceeded with your original plan to lead the heroes astray..." he observed, then waited for her response...

[Shego]

[glow=green,2,800]"Just a simple part of the plan... I have the hand movements right, I just... don't know how to word it." She grumbled, rubbing still at her head. Something told her Atticus would be joining her, so she wasn't too spooked this time,"I'm using the notes as templates, don't burn 'em yet... since we have these, and the one I remember, the 4th one... maybe the heroes don't know what they hold. If they don't, they'll be following these false things, thinking they are the real thing!"

The thief would lean back and relax against the chair, deep in thought, "One way we could do it is if we can make fake ones, and put them somewhere that the goodies can get it." she started, " We can always let them 'save' Beatrix... and Bea Bea can be all grateful-like, " she held her hands up and spoke in an enthusiastic voice, "and say 'Oh, by the way, they have keyblade notes, lets get them' and they'll be all, 'Oooh. Good idea.' hm.." she groaned, " but WHAT can be written so as they think its real??"[/glow]

[Acteur de la Noir]

In the Queen's Chambers:

"Sarah Appleton," Acteur repeated in his smooth, subtly-ghostly voice, rolling the syllables of the schoolgirl's name across his proverbial tongue as though pronouncing the title of royalty. "A fine name...noble. Stately. In it, I hear hints of a focused upbringing, and of purity." He paused, giving a nod to her uniform. "From your attire, I would say that your education comes from an academy of some repute--a school with high standards, particularly in etiquette and order. From the meticulous state of your clothing, I'd say you try your best to meet those standards...you're the sort who plays by the rules."

Pausing, the theatrical noble tilted his head to one side, his gloved hand whipping across his mask in a seemingly meaningless gesture...except that when his palm had passed, the few features on that smooth expanse of porcelain had changed from a broad grin to a sad frown. "And yet, behind your innocent features, I sense a hint of tragedy. Perhaps 'tis my dramatic nature, placing meaning where there might be none...and yet, I cannot help but wonder. Have you felt duress in your life? Have others demanded more from you, claiming your choices are insufficient? Have you, deep in your heart, wished for things to change?"

Pulling a plush, velvet-cushioned chair forward, the Victorian performer slumped into it and leaned forward, elbows on his knees and a sympathetic note to his voice. "Tell me your story, my dear...as one who appreciates the subtle details, you'll find me a worthy listener."

How better to begin luring one down the path of the dark--or at least make one sympathetic to those who walk it--than by presenting oneself as a friend?

[serpentoflore]

"Rules..." Sarah spoke, one hand going through the now loose hair. Part of her began to go back to Middleton. To the world that she found herself kept prisoner in. Her parents constantly pursuing some sort of phantom that didn't exist. Her siblings constantly taunting her with their achievements in academics. Her eyes narrowed a little, one hand turning into a fist, as if trying to hold back the dark thoughts inside her. "I hate rules. They always make someone have to believe in some sort of faith. No one understands... Rules will never create anything but a cage."

The fist continued to loosen and tighten. "That's all they ever wanted from me. It was to be like them. We aren't even that rich and they insist on sending me to schools that will make them bankrupt if they lost their jobs." Her voice let out a sharp, almost contained anger. Anger, sadness, helplessness that had been building up in her system.

"I can only play instruments with amazing talent. Yet they enforce that I have to keep amazing academics. They refuse to admit that I may be better than their precious breadwinners..." She wanted to do something, break apart something inside her. It took a few moments for her to realize what she was doing. Her eyes widened, feeling a deep regret.

What was she doing? She was supposed to be telling her story and she ended up complaining! Not only that, she was blaming her parents for things they may or may not have been the instigators of. It felt strange to blame them. Yet, it liberated her to a degree she had yet to understand.

[General Beatrix]

[glow=red,2,300]Beatrix stood quiet, not even stepping in to bow when her name was called by Acteur. She stared at this girl with mild interest, but more disgust. Intruders, really? First Cloud, and now some school girl? What has Maleficent been doing lately?

When Shego left the room, she turned and watched, then looked over to Acteur. "I am going to see myself to my private chambers. I have some things to look over."

She gave him her signature salute, walked by him, placed a hand on his shoulder, and exited the room, only glancing back once more at the Appleton girl with a look of utter disdain.

"I should seek out Maleficent at some point, as Her Majesty should be informed of all her failings of late..."[/glow]

[MeadowSong]

***From the Towers of Destruction***

[glow=Purple,2,300]Maleficent walked the long halls in stride, so-to-speak, a smile glued to her face. Things were all coming together quite wonderfully, she thought, and her power was about to double.

Jafar had returned, this was spectacular news. Shego was under control--no need for the collars just yet--and Beatrix had seen the errors of her ways with Shego's help. Good. Atticus was playing his part well, but this only led Maleficent to look back to how her former ally Xehanort had betrayed her after spending years seemingly working below her. He'd have to be watched, Acteur as well. Heartless could rarely be trusted, that much she knew; however, there were a lot of advantages to keeping the intelligent ones around.

Perhaps I might find some leverage against them both should they betray me? I have Kim Possible, I have this crystal, I have nothing to use against Kefka...and he is dangerous in his own right...where was Atticus from, again? And Acteur for that matter?

The queen made her way to the doors to her bumbling servant's chamber and slammed it hard with her bony fists. "Pete!" she called.

After a moment of silence the hulking cat-like creature emerged, staring at his mistress in the headdress.

"You will look into and investigate each of my allies a little more; all of them this time, you fool. I want to know what makes them even tick, for Evil's Sake. Do you understand me?"

She leaned in a little bit close to him and whispered the full plan into his ear, as well as some extra information regarding what she wanted done as soon as she finished her work with Jafar and, if she could, Hades. If not, then Kefka would provide an excellent replacement.[/glow]

[Atticus the Fallen]

Removed from the trappings of Acteur, Sarah, Beatrix, Maleficent, and Pete... the dark one leaned over Shego, examining her work carefully. Notes. Yet more had been found, but they were far too dangerous to keep, in his opinion. Yet, she asked him to spare them... so he would honor it until she had finished her work. Afterwards, he'd send these wretched things to oblivion.

"Wording?" He asked politely, reaching down to pick up the original she was working with. He read through, and examined the choices. "Drifters..." he repeated, mirroring her original changes... "Try this..."

Drifter (driff-ter) n.
-One who drifts or wanders aimlessly in a dreamlike state
-One who moves from one thing to another
"Drifters are the original creators of the Keyblade. They are the originators, the architects, the designers. They are the ones who first discovered how to harness the amazing magical properties of the mind in order to create such a wonderful weapon. Currently, however, the term “drifter” applies to any person with the ability to craft a Keyblade. I believe that a specific kind of chemistry is required, and that these poeple held some sway over the mind, as the Keyblade and the mind seem irrefutably connected... The exact method would have to involve chaining one's thoughts and hopes to the weapon itself, as hope is the strongest emotion one can possess..."

Atticus paused, looking to Shego. "Even if they succeed with this false information, their hopes will be tied to their weapon... and if that breaks, so do they..."Meanwhile, a very simple, very to the point message would echo in the darkness of Acteur's mind...

"Finish your business then come see me in the towers. I have a job for you..."

Only this, and nothing more.

[Jafar]

The hallways would grow cold and dark around Maleficent as she whispered to Pete. Deep despair and dread would creep over all living things in these white-turning-black tunnels through the Castle of Naught as he approached... A being beyond death and darkness. A presence far deeper than pain, far richer than terror. Before any could react, he was upon them... standing directly behind Maleficent as his body, with its loose grip on reality, faded in and out of the shadows like he were one of them...

"Paranoid, are we?" he whispered, his voice deep yet terrifyingly soft. His snake staff seemed to stand by itself when his hand disappeared from vision only to return a moment later, blazing from the mouth and eyes as though filled with hellfire. The dark one himself would look at the first Black Faerie with eyes that were not there, but rather allowed a glimpse into the power beyond. As for the atmosphere around him, only one other possessed such an oppressive force... His "creator" of sorts.

"Some don't like having their pasts meddled with..." he whispered, his voice smooth like polished stone. "Sometimes... it's better to trust..."

[Shego]

[glow=green,2,800]Shego wrote it all on the practice sheet, and when she was done, she looked it over. Everything that Atticus had dictated, she falsified to look legit. She grinned widely, "Wow, this is good." she chuckled, and with that began to write on new paper...

"Drifters are the original creators of the Keyblade. They are the originators, the architects..." she went on, writing everything that was previously mentioned. Soon, a false Keyblade note would of been made. She thought it was good progress for now, and so she picked the original notes and folded them nicely before placing it in her pocket. She retrieved the false information and bent a few pages, to make it seem antique. Now it was time for a test....

"Cuddles.." She called out to the small creature, winking to him before grinning curiously, " Help me find Beatrix."

The small one would churr and wiggle obediantly before dripping into she shadows, and disippating within it's darkness to find the General.[/glow]

[Acteur de la Noir]

Acteur nodded silently as he listened to Sarah's story, his keen yellow eyes glittering with interest. Not one for the rules after all, this bookish lass...indeed, from her tale, she had long suffered under their weight. And nowhere more so than home...a haven turned into hell by the overbearing demands of her parents and the callous gloating of her siblings. From the black soil of misery, sowed by seeds of mocking and cruelty, it was clear that a black flower had begun to grow in Sarah's heart--oh, the bookish maiden bore it well; it was clear that the light presently outshone the darkness...but with proper tending, the scales might well tip in the opposite direction. All it would take was sympathy to her plight--a friendly ear, support of her talents, and subtle nudges towards the virtues that one could find in the dark. From there, the black flower in Sarah's heart might very well bloom...and considering the source, Acteur was quite interested in seeing what would come of such a dark blossom.

A waste of time? No doubt a soldier like General Beatrix would think so...but as a performer at heart, Acteur saw value in the effort. To those who knew how, the various arts had their own kind of power...even magic! Thus, as far as Acteur de la Noir was concerned, Sarah was worth the attempt to convert. And if he failed...well, the heart of one so versed was a rare and delicious treat, sad as it might be to lose her company.

"I can only play instruments with amazing talent. Yet they enforce that I have to keep amazing academics. They refuse to admit that I may be better than their precious breadwinners..."

At this remark, Acteur would straighten up suddenly. A swipe of the gloved hand changed the features of his mask as though through magic; the mischievous smile giving way to an expression of shock as he rose from his chair. "Only play instruments?" the aristocratic puppeteer echoed with righteous indignation. "Bah! There it is, that social decay of the modern age...no proper appreciation for the arts, anymore!" Shaking his head, the elegant eccentric began to pace back and forth, gesticulating in dramatic fashion. "'Tis a sad and shameful thing, really. What set Rome apart from the other empires, back when barbarism was the norm? What stimulated the senses and challenged the mind, causing the human race to develop in the complexity of its thinking? What inspired imagination, one of the parents of invention and innovation??"

Stopping in his tracks, Acteur whirled to face Sarah--and now his eyes were visible, a ghostly yellow that glowed in the dimness of Maleficent's chambers. "Music! Art! Poetry! Those creative works of the theater, which so captivated the hearts and souls of the public and elite alike! 'Twas a gesture of class to attend such performances of the arts; a mark of one's personal talent to practice them! Even now, in the modern age, the mark of the arts can still be seen!" A pause, and those gleaming yellow eyes sought out Sarah Appleton's pale, silvery-violet pools. " 'Only play instruments,' indeed! You have a rare talent, my dear--let no one tell you otherwise."

Then Acteur shook his head, a quick blur of motion accompanied by a hearty chuckle. When it ended, the smile had once more appeared on his mask, and his voice danced with theatrical wit as he looked at Sarah. "But enough of my prattle...would you like some tea, my dear Miss Appleton?"

[MeadowSong]

[glow=Purple,2,300]When Pete set off to his duties, Maleficent turned on Jafar, her reptilian eyes narrowed on the tainted visier; though she was, for lack of a better word, happy he had returned to her, she couldn't help remembering all the times he had run off scheming on his own, betraying her and abandoning her for the dogs.

But so too did she recall all of his better qualities and achievements. In their time, they were almost--all due emphasis on 'almost'--good friends. She gave Jafar a look of fond remembrance, but seeing him now only reinforced all of his negative points, and the longing smile faded.

"Jafar," she began, adjusting her grip on Faeries' Wrath with a mutter of discomfort and removing him from her gaze. She turned away from him after he spoke and tried her best to ignore the here and now.

"Sometmes, dear, it does not matter what others wish; you, most of all, must understand that, coming from a land where obtaining a genie can stunt everyone else's desires in favor of nourishing your own. And besides, it is much too dangerous letting those you cannot comprehend run free. I seek to understand; if that is not possible, then we destroy them. Now you and I have some work to take care of..."[/glow]

[serpentoflore]

Her mind felt relaxed at Acteur's words. Another part of her was going against his influence, but she began to push it back with more effort. This man understood her feelings towards the arts. The more he talked, the more she felt this sensation of being freed from some sort of cage.

"Tea would be wonderful." She spoke, beginning to show a smile on her face. She adjusted her glasses a little, testing her body. She could probably stand up by now. "Mr. Noir?" Sarah's voice sounded a bit confused. She placed her legs down to the ground. "I feel liberated somehow. I don't know why... but these feelings are..." Her eyes closed halfway, starting to completely let go of what was making her feel uncomfortable.

[Jafar]

If there was any comprehension in that moment of Maleficent's memory... the shattered wraith of Jafar didn't show any. The look in his face barely even resembled him as he was in life, a twisted mockery of all that he had once been, a result of his multiple trips through hell and back.

"How human of you..." he whispered... "to fear what you don't under-" his head jerked violently to the side, his whole body twitching in response to unchecked magicks. All about him, open doors slammed shut and paintings rattled on the walls. His snake staff erupted red flame from its eyes and mouth, Jafar's skin even taking on a momentary hellishly red glow. Slowly, he came back to normal, even if his image seemed only partly there...

"My apologies..." he muttered, gripping his staff as though weakened only a moment before standing upright. "I've much to get used to..." He then lifted an eyebrow at the woman, smirking a bit as she spoke to him.

"Work you say?" he asked, his voice a ghost of that slithering drawl of his. "Do tell..."

[General Beatrix]

[glow=red,2,300]When the general did find Maleficent, she was having a conversation with a familiar--albeit more frightening--sight. She watched them talk, and even backed away at the fright when Jafar's wild magic began acting up. She nearly got her fingers crushed between a closing door, but kicked it open rather fast, to ensure the continued existence of those appendages.

"I..." And then she heard the call of Darkness, and was informed that Shego was searching for her. She turned, and saw "Cuddles" standing before her towering frame. She glared down, and then her gaze softened a bit. Who could resist the gushiness of this unique creature?

"Very well."

She collected the Heartless in her arms and proceeded back down the hall, completely ignoring her former task, as it seemed too dangerous to interrupt the queen.

She traversed the dark halls, corridors and flights to reach her desired location. When she entered the room Shego was working in, she set Cuddles on a velvety chair nearby and took her place at the thief's side as she worked.

"You wished to see me, Miss Shego?" she said, her arms folded dutifully behind her back, her posture perfect. She stared down at Shego's project with interest, and even made a note of it aloud.[/glow]