The Chamber of the Black Queen

[MeadowSong]

[glow=Purple,2,300]"Indeed, but first let us take refuge in a more...quiet and protected location. The Audience Chamber (Go to "A Dark Alliance") is perfect."

She turned, her companion bird sitting on her shoulder, his eyes unwavering as he stared down the visier. She opened a Corridor and stepped through, only stopping to look back when she thought Jafar would not follow.

"We will make greater time if you do not dawdle."

***Off to A Dark Alliance, in The World that Never Was***[/glow]

[Shego]

[glow=green,2,800]Shego seemed to fiddle with the note, making it look older, and tattered, when Beatrix came into view. She would grin happily, looking up to the general as she stood next to her. "I made something at arts and crafts, mommy." She spoke with a tone, holding it up for her to read. It was the false note of course, "Do you think your friends will like them?"

She would allow the woman to take the note up and examine it. In the mean time, she would rise from the not-so-comfortable-chair anymore, and stretch a bit in place before resting her hands upon her hips, " Just a small project I working on. No big." she paused, reaching up to scratch at the back of her head, 'no big?? what the heck...'

"A-anyways, Chuckles." She cleared her throat, now crossing her arms in front of her chest, "You feeling ready to reunite with those friends of yours? How do you wanna do it? Escape, or let them rescue you? I can make it look good, if you want the second option... heh heh." she joked, cracking her knuckles.[/glow]

[General Beatrix]

[glow=red,2,300]Beatrix collected the notes and read them carefully. She looked back to the table, and then the notes once more, and finally she glanced at Shego with a raised eyebrow.

"An excellent forgery, Miss Shego. This will be perfect to set those morons off-course. Of course, they could still manage to make one, even without the correct path..."

She folded the notes back and delicately placed them on the table. When Shego stood, she put a finger to her chin in consideration. "Where are the originals?"

Beatrix thought of her own notes, and recited the contents in her head a couple of times, just to reinforce her understanding. Then she came back to reality, and looked back to Shego.

"Yes, I was thinking of that myself. They will be coming, or at least make an attempt. Going back would sort of seem, well, odd. Being 'rescued' would be the safest route. You're going to have to make it look real; I warn you, you touch the eye patch or my nose, and I'm going to make you wish I'd killed you back in Radiant Garden, is that understood?"[/glow]

***Off to One of the Many Prison Rooms***

[Shego]

[glow=green,2,800]Shego stretched once again in place, letting all of Beatrix's words sink in. She heard her ask for the originals, and she gave her a grin, "They are safe." she simply stated, looking down to the false notes a moment...

"Yes, I was thinking of that myself. They will be coming, or at least make an attempt. Going back would sort of seem, well, odd. Being 'rescued' would be the safest route. You're going to have to make it look real; I warn you, you touch the eye patch or my nose, and I'm going to make you wish I'd killed you back in Radiant Garden, is that understood?"

Shego looked up, rather psychotically toward Beatrix, giving her a light chuckle before she was about to speak.. until suddenly, there was a light pain at her forehead. It was the darkness, giving off information EVERYWHERE, in a panic, because of an SOS. "Ack!" she grunted, holding her head, getting a little miffed, ".......Bea bea.... You... WERE able to kill that guy, right??"

She hissed a little, the headache increasing. She turned over to the doorway, "Damn, we might not have much time! The babies will take care of them...." She looked to Bea, her grin coming back, "As for you..." She dashed, and since it was a good short distance from her, tackled her, "NO PROMISES!" she hissed, and pushed them both inside a corridor-- toward the dungeons![/glow]

[Acteur de la Noir]

On some level, young Ms. Appleton was already opening her heart to him. That much was clear—Acteur saw it in the way her pale amethyst eyes brightened subtly, in the faint curve of her lips as she begun to sit up...and, of course, in her response to his rant about the true value of the arts. By her own confession, the lonely musician liked what she heard—undoubtedly, it reflected the torment that lurked deep in her soul; the resentment and indignation at her parents and siblings for their thoughtless dismissal of her musical talents. Indeed, Acteur found himself wondering if Sarah had ever had this discussion before—if there had been anyone she could confide in about her situation, at her academy or otherwise. Somehow, the Heartless puppeteer doubted it…a fact that would make his influence all the greater. A lonely youth, frustrated and friendless, could easily be guided down a certain path if encouraged properly.

And how better to remove a potential threat—what was the lass doing with those Keyblade notes?—than to turn said threat into a friend?

Offering a gloved hand to Sarah to help her rise from the bed—were she to take it, the musician might notice that his palm and fingers felt rather stiff, as though made of wood—Acteur de la Noir nodded in understanding. “ ’Tis no small thing, cherie,” he chuckled. “I daresay it’s been a long time—am I wrong, in fact, to assume this the first?—since you’ve had anyone on your side in this matter?” He paused, shaking his head wistfully and covering his mask with one hand, as though overcome. “A sad tale, indeed… a lone artist amid a crowd of merchants and philistines, their sole concern being profit and influence.” Then the gloved palm fled, revealing those spooky eyes and Cheshire-worthy smile. “But never fear. Even if society favors their tormentors, an artist can always find someone who appreciates them…” Another pause, and his voice dropped to a silky, ghostly whisper. “Even if they come from places the artist never thought of looking.”

Then Acteur blinked, cocking his head to one side before snapping his fingers. “Which reminds me—I promised you tea, did I not?” Closing his glowing yellow eyes, the elegantly-dressed eccentric raised his gloved hands in the air—a carnival ringmaster addressing the crowd. Of their own accord, the skeletally-thin fingers danced in midair, as though tapping the keys of an invisible piano in a complex rhythm. Or, perhaps, manipulating a set of puppeteer’s crosses to produce a complex display. Perhaps, if Sarah’s travels had left a particular mark on her, she might catch the hint of a ghostly whisper flickering through the air.

A few minutes later, Acteur lowered his arms and head, those strange and eerie eyes dancing with wit as they met Sarah’s violet pools once more. “A bit of puppet-work, my dear," he explained. "As we have a few moments before the tea trolley shows up, I’m certain you have a fair number of questions to ask. Feel free to present them—you’ll find I’m as adept at providing answers as I am at offering a friendly ear.”

[serpentoflore]

Sarah could feel it, the logic that had led her to following her parents snapped away. Touching his hand and feeling the wood had allowed her to let go of the uncomfortable feeling inside her go away. Acteur's words made her feel free, without the restraints of a society that was ready to throw away her talents.

"Even ones who claimed they were my friends ignored it." She spoke in a soft voice that held more emotions. "They only wanted to be my friend so they could hear my music. They had no intention of appreciating the fingers that created it." Her eyes looked towards Acteur's, hand reaching to her glasses again. "All I wanted was to be able to create that music. To have someone appreciate the talent that created it."

Her smile became slightly cold at her next question. "I've always wanted to teach a lesson about music. My parents never understood that if a pitch went high enough..." Her hands went around an amount of air, holding an air clarinet. "That I could kill them with just the sound. Is it wrong to desire to kill with music? Shakespearean plays had incidents of death from the audience..." The cold aspect left, leaving her in her relaxed state.

[Acteur de la Noir]

Acteur de la Noir's eyes glittered with delight as he listened to Sarah's words. Already, this bookish musician was showing a lovely darkness to her personality--the way she despised her so-called "friends" for their failure to come to her aid, the way she accepted his hand (and its peculiarities) without complaint, and the way she mentioned the prospect of music's lethality with a morbid interest. To the Heartless puppeteer, these were the sort of angles he'd expected to have to convince her into following! And yet, without so much as a single touch from his mystical puppet strings, here she was, pondering them of her own free will! Too early to celebrate, granted--there was a difference between ranting on such matters and genuinely wanting them to happen--but still, Acteur had a feeling that the gap was not as great as it otherwise might have been.

With all of this in mind, the elegantly-dressed individual tipped his hat cheerfully to Sarah, the smile in his voice matching the one etched into his mask. "Never fear, Ms. Appleton…I am hardly as petty or shallow as the others. Talent is nothing without the one who wields it.” His eerie yellow eyes finding hers, he added, “I appreciate you, cherie…surprising though it may seem, coming from one such as I.”

At this moment, there was a sudden rapping at the door, causing Acteur to look up in surprise. “Eh? Ah, of course—that’ll be the tea, I suspect.” With a swirl of his tattered cape, the elegantly-clad figure strode to the ornate doors of Maleficent’s chambers, making a gesture with one hand. By its own accord, one of the massive doors swung open partially—while a tea tray was visible beyond, the details of whoever was carrying it were obscured by the ornate panel. However, depending on the angle, Sarah might’ve been able to make out a lithe, shadowy figure, with glowing yellow eyes that seem hauntingly familiar…

In the next moment, however, Acteur had taken the tray and whispered something to the bearer, who disappeared from sight. Balancing the sizeable platter delicately on one palm, the eccentric performer walked back over to where Sarah was standing, humming a tune in that spooky-yet-cultured voice. “I think you’ll find it to your liking cherie,” he said as he presented the tray, laden with an elegantly-wrought teapot and cups of black-hued china, traced with unearthly patterns of smoky purple. “Some of the most exquisite herbs have been found in the night’s darkest depths.”

As he waited for Sarah to accept one of the cups, he let his eerie yellow eyes find her pale violet pools, their glowing depths seeming to appraise her. “On the subject…to those properly versed, music’s power can be quite versatile. To strike terror in the hearts of others, or even drain the life from their bodies…it is a long-obscure branch of music. Difficult to discover; even more so to master.” A pause, and the mysterious puppeteer chuckled softly. “How delightfully refreshing…very few artists express an interest in previewing the darker elements of their craft.”

[serpentoflore]

Sarah hadn't noticed the creature, too relaxed to really notice the danger she was in. Her hands gently held the cup he offered, a smile on her face still. The herbs of the night reminded her of the Phantom in one of the musicals she heard. "I've often wondered what secrets lay in the music of the night." She spoke, eyes focusing on the tea. "Though I am supposed to be someone who desires to play the music of the Sun, I enjoy the Moon the most. I often wonder what dark powers lay inside that realm. Can it destroy the minds of the player? Enchant children to run into their death?"

She closed her eyes, taking a sip of the liquid in the cup. "I have often been left alone to my thoughts. As much as I enjoy music, I haven't been able to reach the goal I wanted. I have often desired to destroy something. I have never been able to achieve such a rush, to witness my talent become something so visual. Music is not meant just for the ear, but to felt by the body." The cold look was coming back into her eyes. "I want to be able to achieve something more than just a beautiful melody. I want to show whoever doubts such power that they are wrong to push it off as nothing." She took another sip, not seeming to care if she spoke so morbidly now.

"It is the first time I've been able to speak so freely about this desire. Thank you, Acteur."

[Acteur de la Noir]

The elegant figure in question dipped his head forward in a nod to Sarah's words, those strange yellow eyes glittering like a serpent's as he set the tea tray down on a nearby nightstand. "Think nothing of it, m'dear," he chuckled softly. "As a performer who studies the darker aspects of the theater, 'tis a rare treat when I discover a kindred spirit. Especially such a charming beauty such as thyself." A pause, in which Acteur poured himself a cup of tea; all the while, his gleaming orbs remained locked with Sarah's pale amethyst pools. "But why stop at speaking of this desire? I can help you make it reality."

Letting those words sink in, Acteur lifted his teacup to the crescent-smile gap in his mask...but did he sip? It was hard to tell; when he lowered the cup, the "water-line" seemed barely affected. But there was little time for Sarah to reflect on this oddity; the elegant eccentric was speaking once more. "Perhaps you've gathered this detail from my garb, but I too am a performer..." He began gesturing for grand effect, his tone taking on the oratorical quality of a ringmaster. "...an actor, dancing on the stage of the night! A puppet who has learned to pull his own strings, and those of his fellow cast! A scribe who takes the quirks and follies of the story's characters, turning them into most fitting lessons! And, above all, one who weathers the harshness of his critics..." A pause, and those spooky yellow eyes momentarily flashed bloodshine scarlet; the ghostly undertone to his voice more pronounced than ever. "...for he plots for the day when the last laugh shall be his."

With those words, Acteur offered his hand to Sarah Appleton, his voice as smooth and dusky as the unique flavor of the tea that flowed across the lonely musician's tongue. "And I would share my knowledge with you, cherie," he murmured. "Come and walk down the path of the night, with me...and I can show you such secrets of the arts as no academy of your world could ever imagine."

[serpentoflore]

Listening to Acteur's offer had cut off the last piece of the uncomfortable feeling she kept feeling. "It will be an honor to learn the secrets of the night." She spoke, putting her hand in Acteur's. It had been a long time since she had the chance to truly explore the world she had so desired to enter. It wasn't just a vague, morbid desire... It was desire that had been building ever since she had been unable to truly find a way to teach the value of her talent.

Even if he were to turn out to be like Eric in Phantom of the Opera. She couldn't imagine why Christine had chosen the light over the darkness, but that was not of her concern. Whether Acteur was real or not mattered little to her. He was the one offering what she had wanted most of her life.

[Acteur de la Noir]

The sibilant hiss of breath that drew in through the mouth of Acteur's mask was a thing of delight, subtly laced with hints of triumph. To hear such words from this maiden of light, the genuine desire that they betrayed...for one who walked the path of the darkness, it was a rare and beautiful thing. As the eccentric performer took Sarah's hand in his own, the lonely musician might once again notice the rigid, artificial nature of her host's fingers. Whatever their physical nature, however, the intent seemed quite genuine--Acteur's grasp was surprisingly gentle, as though handling a fragile and precious treasure. Lowering his head, he lifted Sarah's wrist to the crescent slash of his mask's mouth, letting out a soft gust of "breath" across the smooth, creamy skin of her hand--a gesture that might be taken as a gentleman's kiss.

"The honor is mine, Mademoiselle Appleton," Acteur murmured softly, lifting his head so those spooky yellow eyes could meet the musician's pale violet pools. "Even were I to scour all the worlds, I would be hard-pressed to find another so deserving to learn the dark beauty of the nocturnal ways."

There was a pause, in which Acteur glanced to Sarah's ebon teacup and then back to her. "Once you've finished your tea and feel fit to travel, I will lead you to the theater of this castle...there, we shall begin your tutelage in this rarely-explored discipline." A pause, and the eccentric performer cocked his head to one side, his ghostly-yet-elegant voice laced with a sort of playful curiosity. "Speaking of such...what instrument do you favor? There are many ways in which the night can be channeled into the performing arts; thus, the medium you wield determines which abilities will come most naturally to thee."

[serpentoflore]

Sarah blushed a little at Acteur's kiss to her wrist. She gently let go, grasping the tea cup again in her hands. What sort of instrument did she want to learn in such a way? It had to be something that one could carry but not heavy. She had once played a tuba, and despite the fun, it was rather heavy. One would not want to mess with a tuba player, but it was not something she could wield easily.

It was then she remembered an Arabian image. The one with a man calling a snake out of a clay jar. The instrument was portable, but not as refined as an orchestra instrument. However, there was one instrument that could do the damage of a brass instrument and be portable. The lightest of instruments, a Piccolo. It had a range of pitches and could easily be trained in the dark arts.

"Is a Piccolo suitable for such arts?" Her voice came out in a curious tone, taking another sip of her tea. She kept looking at Acteur, sipping her tea slowly until she could finally set the cup gently down. She would not rush the process, for any art took a lot of time to master.

[Acteur de la Noir]

Acteur de la Noir let out a thoughtful hum, stroking his jaw as he pondered Sarah's inquery. "A piccolo, you say?" he mused. "A relative to the flute...indeed, both instruments are part of the woodwind family. And yet, a piccolo possesses a variety of melodies entirely its own. With its higher octaves, it provides resonance to the songs of the violin and flute. In the works of the oldest composers, it always had a place; even among its more visually-impressive brethern." A pause, and a soft, dusky chuckle escaped Acteur's porcelain mask. "In summary, it was a deceptively formidable instrument; both accentuating others and capable of standing on its own..." Another pause, and his keen yellow eyes held hers. "...Ergo, one that suits you rather nicely, cherie. Time, I think, for another bit of puppetry..."

Saying thus, the eccentric performer's arms once more rose into the air. Once more, those spindly fingers danced in than subtle complexity, as though tugging the threads of an unseen cast of puppets. Depending on any latent sensitivity to magic or darkness, Sarah might have been able to detect whispers along those particular wavelengths.

Then it was over. Lowering his arms, Acteur tipped his hat to Sarah, one of those glowing yellow orbs disappearing as he winked. "I've sent the word to my brethern...when we reach the theater, you'll find your instrument waiting."

[serpentoflore]

Sarah took the last sip of her tea, placing it down like she had received it. Her hands remained in her lap, smoothing her skirt before standing up again. She could not thank Acteur enough, but her voice stayed inside her. She continued to keep her smile, unable to really see the danger she was in.

"Thanking you isn't enough for everything you're offering Acteur." She bowed once in front of him, remaining relaxed.

[Atticus the Fallen]

As the two were conversing, a screen of swirling darkness would open right in front of Acteur's face. The image of the Fallen appeared, his glowing eyes looking dead into the mask of the madcap actor.

"Acteur..." he spoke, his voice calm though with the slightest edge of annoyance. "There have been issues out here. While we have much to discuss regarding that... minor discrepancy... I need you for a very important operation in the works... Wrap up whatever projects you have and meet me outside Disney Castle... I need you to find a door... and break it down."

The screen whisked away, disappearing into the air without another word...