Sit Down At My Table

Sit Down At My Table
Date of Scene:	17 November 2012
Location:	Dr. Facilier's Voodoo Emporium
Synopsis:	Jasmine stumbles into the Voodoo Emporium, hiding from Heartless. Dr. Facilier kindly agrees to let her stay for a while, and she thanks him generously -- but eventually gets suckered into making a fateful bargain. Also, there is singing.
Cast of Characters:	Dr. Facilier, Jasmine

---

Jasmine has posed:

Where Jasmine goes, the Heartless follow.

This has become an axiom of her existence. But after her audacious use of herself as bait, combined with the sudden awareness of herself as a conduit to the Light (which has dialed up her GPS presence on the cosmological map from 'bright blinking LED' to 'magnetic pole'), she's never had a harder time keeping one jump ahead of the headsman, so to speak. A lucky discovery of a portal helped her get some distance, but they've caught up with her faster than ever before. Relatively few are the Dark Swordsmen of her own world; most rise straight out of the ground, in whatever shape or size the local brand produces.

Having had the common sense to pack a bag of SeeD supplies, she's managed to choke down some food now and then, but she's hardly rested, and the long chase is beginning to take its toll. Her heart pounds in her throat, and she can't stop trembling.

She pounds down a street, feet slapping the ground loudly, chicken feathers flying as she startles birds into flight. One gets caught in the veil of her rough brown robe, and flutters wildly. The back of her neck prickles, warning her that trouble isn't far behind. Left, right, and left again, she cuts some fast, tight corners through a labyrinth of alleyways.

Her eyes widen as she realizes she's lost line of sight for the first time in hours, but... it's only for a few seconds. There's a door -- and no time to knock -- and it's unlocked. It's her only chance, and she knows it. A moment later, it's slammed shut behind her, and she leans forward, gasping, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.

It takes a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the darkness...

Dr. Facilier has posed:

Was that door there before? It must have been, right? Yeah, it definitely was.

Right?

When Jasmine's eyes adjust to the darkness, she's greeted to the sight of... one Dr. Facilier, in his chair at the far end of the room, up on the dais. It's tilted back, and there's some sort of booklet resting over his face; he appears to be dozing.

Out of sight of Jasmine, however, beneath the table, Facilier's shadow has noticed the girl's entrance; it looks back and forth, wrings its hands anxiously, and then reaches out to tug on the leg of Facilier's chair.

It rocks forwards onto all fours, and the impact starts Facilier awake, the booklet tumbling off of his face and onto the floor. "Eh, wha?" he demands, looking back and forth in confusion. It takes him a moment to process that Jasmine in the room... but once he does, he switches instantly to full 'on' mode, rising out of his chair and spreading his arms in a welcoming gesture.

"Hello, hello!" he cries, a broad grin on his face. "Welcome to Dr. Facilier's Voodoo Emporium1" As he speaks, he shimmies out from behind the table and starts across the room towards Jasmine, stepping quickly down off the dais. "What can I do for y'all?"

Jasmine has posed:

Jasmine almost jumps out of her skin at the slam of Facilier's chair, but as he approaches her, her eyes widen, full of a mix of guilt and relief. The reason why becomes quickly apparent: "I'm really... very sorry..." she explains softly, glancing anxiously behind her at the door. "There were... monsters, Heartless, chasing me, and I... I came in here to hide." She felt terrible, just barging in like that, and her apology is quite genuine.

Bowing her head and looking up at the doctor through a veil of silken black hair, she implores, "Please let me stay. Just... for a little while, until they go away. If they knew I was in here, they would have already come after me." And the door behind her is blessedly silent, if nothing else.

She sways on her feet, exhausted.

Dr. Facilier has posed:

Facilier's initial reaction is... lukewarm, at best. He squints uncertainly as he draws up to Jasmine, his smile fading; once he's got a good look at her face, however, the smile returns in force. He opens his mouth to speak--

-- and what comes out isn't speech, but song, backed up by music that springs up from every corner of the store.

               o/` Don't worry yourself none mademoiselle! o/`                 
                 o/` My hospitality's known far and wide! o/`                  
          o/` In here those heartless are completely harmless... o/`           
                o/` 'cuz I got friends on the o-ther side~ o/`                 

As he sings, he gestures dramatically, circling Jasmine like a circus performer (or a shark); as he sings the last line, he throws his arms around her shoulders and gestures broadly up towards the dais at the end of the room, which prompts an echo from it, when five voices sing, in harmony,

              o/` (He's got friends ooon the o-ther siiide~) o/`               

As the line echoes throughout the room, Facilier urges Jasmine across the room towards the table and one of the smaller chairs set there, guiding her with the arm around her shoulder. "That's an echo, my dear," he assures her, as he does. "Just a little somethin' we have back in Louisiana, a little parlor trick, don't worry!"

Jasmine has posed:

Jasmine is unstartled by spontaneous song, but she does seem faintly troubled, all the same. The way Facilier seemed to change his mind when he got a better look at her... that could mean many things. The rather possessive way that he rings round her, many more. Still, she can't help but return his smile with her own, slightly tremulous one: he is generous to provide her with temporary sanctuary, and she, in turn, is very grateful.

"Thank you," she replies simply, tucking more honest relief into two words -- two SYLLABLES -- than most people express in a year. They come out rather musical, as well; most phrases do, her voice a sparkling, silvery thing, but never more than now. Allowing herself to be led to the chairs, she takes a seat after gracefully shifting the skirt of her robe out of the way. Her legs -- interestingly, shod in light but sturdy-looking running shoes, rather than pointy-toed slippers -- hook daintily at the ankle.

Folding her hands politely in her lap, she looks around the room very curiously. At last her eyes return to where they began, on Dr. Facilier, whom she gazes at quite steadily; if she's the least bit taken aback by his appearance or his 'echo', she never gives a hint.

And then her voice rises into a sweet descant, the tones winding around and above the Friends' harmony, her major key mingling with their minor in a way that transforms creepy into glorious:

                   o/` I have run through the worlds... o/`                    
                    o/` Rarely stopped to enjoy them. o/`                      
    o/` Always must I move onwards... without time to see the sights. o/`      
                   o/` So please grant me the leave... o/`                     
                       o/` To ask a silly question: o/`                        
        o/` What's a Voodoo Emporium -- what have I found tonight? o/`    

Dr. Facilier has posed:

Facilier is actually a little taken aback, when Jasmine starts singing. He's... never actually had anyone sing back before. The apparently disembodied instrumentation in the room falters, too... bt around the beginning of the second stanza, it picks up in support of Jasmine.

Facilier's surprise, however, dissolves quickly back into his usual smile, once he's come to terms with what's happening.

So when he gets the opportunity - about when she asks what she's found tonight - he leaps directly into song again, scooting Jasmine's chair up closer to the table as he starts. The instrumentation, ready for it this time, don't miss a beat.

                        o/` Sit down at my table! o/`                          
                        o/` Put your mind at ease! o/`                         
                 o/` If you'll relax it will enable me... o/`                  
                     o/` To do... anything I please! o/`                       

With Jasmine safely seated, Facilier starts to move around the table... he breaks it up, though, by dancing as he does. He's got some moves that can be officially be classified as 'dope-ass', too.

                      o/` I can read your future... o/`                        
                   o/` I can change it 'round some too! o/`                    

About here, he leaps onto the table and busts out more aforementioned sweet moves, complete with a ridiculous backflip and his contractual minimum of one Michael Jackson pose.

              o/` I'll look deep into your heart and soul... o/`               
                 o/` Make your wildest dreams come true! o/`                   

Facilier turns, leaps down off the table in the direction of his own chair, and then whirls on Jasmine again, thrusting out his left hand; from it dangle a number of tiny, adorable dolls, tied to his fingers with string.

                            o/` I got voodoo-- o/`                             

His right hand goes out. In it is clutched... a... live chicken???

                            o/` I got hoodoo-- o/`                             

The wall behind Facilier's chair swells outwards, fading into darkness as it does; Jasmine may notice the reaching tendrils of a Heartless poking through the wall--

--and then Facilier whirls on it, dropping the chicken and the dolls, and strongly presents something he pulls out of his coat, with a cry of,

                   o/` I got things I ain't even TRIED! o/`                    

The Heartless apparently don't want none of that, because they retreat back through the wall immediately. Facilier huffs and turns back to Jasmine, tucking the thing back into his pocket as he does so - it is, apparently, some kind of small pendant.

Either way, Facilier flips his tailcoat up and lowers himself into his seat, which scoots itself forwards to meet him. As he does, he reminds Jasmine,

                o/` And I got friends on the o-ther side~ o/`                  

A heartbeat later, once again, it echoes throughout the shop; this time the voices are noticably closer, but it's hard to tell from which direction; it's almost as if the building itself is singing.

              o/` (He's got friends ooon the o-ther siiide~) o/`               

Jasmine has posed:

At first Jasmine is into it, in a casual way -- you'd have to be deaf to not appreciate the quality of Facilier's voice, and blind to not see that he's a good dancer, but as his words, to say nothing of the imagery, get more disturbing... well, she gets more disturbed.

By the time he's at 'look deep into your heart and soul,' all the blood has drained out of her face. She stays sunk deep into her chair, hands hidden within her voluminous sleeves, mostly because there's no other option; when the Heartless arrive, she starts to rise, but the good Doctor takes care of it before she can.

That said, in the moment that the Heartless reach out, his shadow and friends on the other side may well sense the primal force that stirs in her, rising with the fire in her eyes. It settles, afterwards, but continues to burn brightly within. That power may be holy, but there's nothing tame about it, nothing safe. She has to squeeze her eyes shut, concentrating fiercely, to get it to back down from its desire to pour out of her. The Light, she's fast discovering in the past several days, wants to be used, now that she knows it's there. Or it wants to use her. Some of both, probably.

When her eyes open, they are somewhat calmer, though her burning core remains. A single eyebrow raises, eloquently expressing her concern. She clears her throat into the silence that reigns after Facilier's backup band dies away. And her voice, while in tune with the song and in time with the beat, is no longer actively singing. The question is not as innocent as it could be, but not sarcastic, either. It's definitely a little bit worried.

"Dr. Facilier... if you don't mind my asking... who /are/ your friends on the other side?"

Dr. Facilier has posed:

The good(?) news is, this appears to be the end of the singing, at least... for now. If Facilier notices anything about Jasmine's sudden urge to spray light out of all of her orifices, he doesn't show it; when she opens her eyes again, he just looks concerned, presumably for her health, and the instrumentation is dying away.

He shrugs it off, when she asks her question. "Trade secret," he assures her, with an apologetic shrug. "Y'all understand, of course. If I went around tellin' everyone that, I'd put myself out of business."

That said, he reaches under the table, and comes back up with a small deck of cards, which he sets on the table in between himself and Jasmine. "Now," he continues brightly, apparently eager to get away from the topic of his friends on the other side, or at least their identities. "Y'all're welcome to spend the night, if you need to; my assistant will be coming in tomorrow, and she'll make sure you get to wherever you're goin' safe."

"But until then... perhaps y'all'd be interested in making use of my services?"

Jasmine has posed:

Jasmine doesn't press the question, letting it go with a tiny nod, but she doesn't exactly melt into his arms with understanding, either. She looks... skeptical. The blood is starting to return to her face, at least, warming her complexion back to its usual golden-brown caramel.

When he offers to let her stay the night, she draws back, fractionally. "I couldn't do that," she protests, in an understated, quiet way. One of her hands slips back out of its sleeve to be held up in a forestalling way. "It's very kind of you to offer, but I won't repay your kindness by staying more than a few minutes. I don't wish to cause more trouble."

And she already has, of that she's certain: it was comforting to see Facilier banish a Heartless, but also demonstrative that she's not as safe here as she'd like, and therefore, neither is he... or his assistant.

As for his second offer, she seems extremely reluctant. "I... have been ill used by mystics, of late," she explains, after releasing her lower lip from an unconscious, worried bite. "You seem very nice, but I'd rather not truck with forces that I don't understand." Well, it's already too late for that, but the first one wasn't her choice. "I'm too far over my head as it is."

Truer words never spoken.

Her other hand emerges having slipped a small item out of a pouch. When it opens, palm up, its contents catch every bit of radiance in the room, reflecting and refracting dazzlingly. "This is the Eye of the Dawn," she explains, the lovely Agrabic name auto-translated by the duct tape that binds the multiverse together. It's a devastatingly large ruby, seemingly without flaw; it has a story behind it, essentially guaranteed, but that's not why she's brought it out. It warms the room with its presence, but not half as much as her smile, as she meets Facilier's eyes: shining, shimmering, splendid. "Please take it," she implores, "For sheltering me. You do have my sincere gratitude."

Dr. Facilier has posed:

Dr. Facilier doesn't bother to hide his shock when Jasmine produces the Eye of the Dawn, because /oh my God what./ He's aware of Jasmine and her deal - her various deals, in fact - but he hadn't realized just how... /loaded/ she was, if sh can be throwing around things like this for a few minutes of save haven.

The emotions he feel next are... ... confusing. On the one hand, she seems an alright sort, so perhaps he ought to show her a gentler touch than he would a few of the other Princesses. On the other hand, she's clearly rich as hell, there's no way this well is dry; he ought to wring her for all she's worth.

But... she's not white. What-- do-- what is this i don't even

Very slowly, Facilier reaches out and takes the ruby, lifting it up to the dimly-lit electric chandeleir over his table so he can get a better look at it.

"This..." he says slowly. He's practically spechless, which is... unusual, for him.

After a beat, however, he lowers it and looks back to Jasmine. "... well, I can't let y'all walk away empty-handed, now. How about a tarot reading? No commitments; just a little divination. Completely harmless!"

Jasmine has posed:

As a matter of fact, Jasmine /doesn't/ have twenty Eyes of the Dawn stuffed in her pocket -- not that that's possible anyway, since it's very much one of a kind. Most of the jewels she ran off with the night of the coup are much less ostentatious (though one or two might be as valuable). They aren't actually all with her anymore; some have been given away to others she deemed more in need, and others deposited in the Bank of SeeD.

But... Facilier saved her life, as far as she's concerned, or close enough to make no difference. Things were getting /very/ tight, and she was very tired, and if he'd kicked her back out into that alley, where the Heartless had surely caught up to, she isn't at all convinced she'd have been able to fight them off.

And a princess always pays her debts. Like a Lannister, but less blond and incestuous. Her life may or may not be worth a ruby, but his reaction pleases her; she's happy he's happy, and her expression shines on, unwavering, as he sorts through his feelings and ultimately accepts her gift. He seemed like the type to appreciate a thing not just for its value but for its beauty. It'll look fine next to one of the shrunken heads.

She can't refuse this offer, though; it would be ungracious to refuse his counter-generosity, and that's one thing she'll never be. "Okay," she consents carefully. "Just... please be careful. People who get mixed up with me... often get hurt. I don't want that to happen to you."

Great, now she's worried about /him/.

Dr. Facilier has posed:

Facilier has to actually take a moment to regain his composure; he clears his throat, tucks the ruby into one of his coat pockets, and carefully adjusts his hat. "Okay," he mutters under his breath; he taps his foot once, twice, three times...

... and then the instrumentation starts up again, and he scoops up the cards on the table, and begins shuffling them. Not just /shuffling/ them, of course; he starts with a few normal - if showy - shuffles, and then moves on to the straight-up impossible, rolling the cards up one arm, end-over-end, and then across his shoulder and down the other end the same way, to land in a neat pile.

As he does all this, he is, of course, singing.

             o/` The cards; the cards; the cards will tell... o/`              
            o/` The past; the present; and the future as well! o/`             
               o/` The cards; the cards; just take three... o/`                
           o/` Take a little trip into your future with me~e... o/`            

As he sings the third line, he scoops up the cards again, spreads them out in a fan and presents them to Jasmine.

Jasmine has posed:

Jasmine is appropriately delighted by the display. Cards weren't actually a thing where she grew up; he could probably get an embarrassing amount of money by shifting this tarot reading into a gambling game. Although once she learned the rules, that might change; she does have a damn decent poker face, after all.

But she beams at the shuffling and the song, even claps her hands a little at one of the more spectacularly impossible parts. She's taken by wonder after wonder, for all her reasonable suspicions about magic. As she said in her own song, earlier, she's hardly had a chance to slow down a little and appreciate the marvels of the many worlds, lest she be grabbed by their horrors.

"Hmmm," she muses, two fingers tapping her cheeks as she regards the spread thoughtfully. Hopefully this won't, as he put it, 'change her future around some too.' Is the act of choosing three cards going to, in itself, determine her future? If she took them, but didn't observe them, would it make a difference?

Before the princess gets too far into imagining quantum theory, she gets on with it and chooses her damn cards already. The very last one, the very first one, and the one in the exact middle. It seems someone has a liking for symmetry.

"Ah -- should I look at them?" She checks first -- he's the expert, after all.

Dr. Facilier has posed:

To his credit, Dr. Facilier stays away from games of chance.

When she asks her question, though, he shakes his head. He sets what remains of the deck aside, and reaches out to take Jasmine's trio of cards. "The order they're revealed is very important," he explains, as he sets them out in front of him. "Now..."

He reaches out to lift the first card, glances at it, and then shows it to Jasmine; it's a stylized drawing of... Jasmine, standing on a marble pedestal above a throng of people.

               o/` Now you my dear you ought to be proud... o/`                
              o/` For you're so much purer than the crowd... o/`               

Facilier flips the card over, so that its back faces Jasmine... except instead of the card backing, there's now the same image... or, well, a similar one. Now Jasmine is clutching her hands to her chest, and the throngs of people beneath her have become Heartless, who are reaching up towards her.

                      o/` The light shines forth... o/`                        

He flips the card, this time upside down, and the image changes again; now the chest that Jasmine is clutching bears a heart made out of light, that is casting rays all across the card, prompting the throngs of Heartless beneath her to recoil and cower. This final transformation is accompanied by the addition of the symbols 'XIX' at the top of the card.

                       o/` And the darkness goes... o/`                        

Facilier carefully sets the card down, and slides it across the table towards Jasmine, so she can get a better look at it.

       o/` So nowhere in your heart is there any darkness to show! o/`  

Jasmine has posed:

Jasmine relinquishes the cards easily enough, and listens earnestly to his explanation, short as it is. Her brows lift at her very personalized appearance in the cards -- well, this /is/ magic, after all. It's impressive... and mildly disconcerting.

She is not immune to flattery or charm, but she finds Facilier's first statement a little bit distressing, and shifts uncomfortably in her seat. Her legs swap ankles, in terms of how they're crossed. "I have very little to be proud of," she mutters, quietly enough to not interrupt the song. Her sheltered, pampered status, that gilded cage she fought to escape... it shames her, now that she's seen how so many others live, even within her own city.

But she gapes, her jaw dropping, as the shining heart appears -- recoiling from the card as the pictured Heartless recoil from /her/. There are so many implications there. A Dark Knight's whisper rebounds in her ears, that mysterious title he'd bestowed upon her coming back, now. She hadn't had time to think about it, much.

Without touching the card slid in front of her, she leans forward to study it very closely. A hand drifts up to tuck a lock of her dark hair back behind one ear, a troubled gesture. She drags her eyes from the card to the man. "I'm not sure what to think of this," she says at last with complete honesty. Or, more accurately, she has entirely TOO many thoughts; some quick to argue, others recognizing truths in what he's sung, parallels to her recent experiences. She wishes it were harder to believe than it is, though it will take her a long time to come to grips with aspects of it. A heart of pure light? She too feels depression, and anger, and fear, after all.

It may be that her pity for Jafar, rather than her undying hatred, is the definitive difference that put her over the edge. She despises what he's done to her people in general, and her personally, but... mostly she wonders how unhappy he must be, to be driven to such depths.

Blinking back out of her thoughtful reverie again, she ducks her head. "Sorry about that. There's magic in how thought-provoking this is, for sure..."

Dr. Facilier has posed:

"It's no problem at all," Facilier assures Jasmine, with another broad smile. He has awfully shiny teeth, offset only slightly by the gap in between the two front ones. It's a charm point!

"Y'see, mademoiselle," he begins, reaching across the table to draw two more cards from the deck as he does, "In every one of us there exist two natures. Good..." He casually tosses one of the cards he's drawn onto the table, and it lands neatly in front of Jasmine, face-up; on its face is a man, posing dramatically, in golden armor and a cape and with a head of windswept platinum hair. The symbols 'XX' feature prominently at the top of the image.

"... and evil," Facilier finishes. He tosses the other card, and it lands next to the first. The two are much the same, but this new card - although it features the same pose - has the man facing the opposite direction, and instead of bearing the first man, shows someone wearing a full-body suit of black armor, face obscured entirely by metal.

"It's the curse of mankind," Facilier explains, "That these two sides are constantly struggling... but not inside yoU!" he exclaims, reaching out to tap the card bearing Jasmine's image. "Your heart ain't got nothin' but light in it. No darkness at all!"

Aaand then he bursts into song again, rising out of his chair as he belts.

    o/` It's the light; it's the light; it's the light's your plight! o/`      
                 o/` But when I look into your future... o/`                   

Facilier leans forwards to touch the card, and flips it onto its back once more; this time the first image is gone, replaced by an image identical to the third, with Jasmine and her heart of light... but, notably, the Heartless are gone.

                        o/` Everything is alright! o/`                         

Jasmine has posed:

Jasmine returns Facilier's smile, then sits back a little as he goes on, which is to say, she's no longer practically got her nose to the table -- back to typically princessy perfect posture, though it's hard to see under the huge brown robe, anyway. Amusingly, the 'good' image doesn't really do it for her; she wrinkles her nose a little at the Perfect Prince, her lips quirking into an ironic smirk. With that thought in mind, she doesn't seem terribly taken aback by the 'evil' image, either. It's intimidating-looking, sure, but you never know who's under that shell.

She puts aside the question of whether or not the battle in her has truly already been won before it was ever begun (it's fairly difficult to accept, frankly, and that continues to show on her face) when the doctor makes his final proclamation. Then the hope begins to dawn, lighting up her whole face. She may be slow to trust the concept that she herself brings hope, but the concept that everything will turn out in the end... that's something to live by, something she embodies, without realizing it.

Still, it's hugely comforting to see it confirmed in the cards.

The young woman stares up at the fortune-teller. "Do you really think so?" Her voice trembles with raised expectations.

Dr. Facilier has posed:

Dr. Facilier returns to his seat, and reaches out to finally pick up the second card and turn it over. He normally saves this bit for when he does couples, but... this girl has an awful lot of baggage.

In short, he takes it to the bridge.

          o/` Oh you come from a land... from a faraway place... o/`           

As he sings, he picks up the second card and shows it to Jasmine; it's... Agrabah, or at least the desert, and surprisingly featureless save for the upside down 'V' at the bottom of the card.

                   o/` Where the caravan camels roam... o/`                    

As he sings, Facilier reaches up, grabs the bottom of the card, and pulls... and it lengthens, extending downwards like a measuring tape. Sure enough, the image lengthens, too, expanding to include a... well, caravan of camels.

    o/` Where they cut off your ear... if they don't like your face... o/`     

The card lengthens further; now it shows a group of people standing outside a gate. Specifcally, two Heartless are holding down a certain street rat, while a particularly large guard lifts a sword over his head in a two-handed grip, ready to strike down at the grappled riff-raff.

Over the affairs presids who is unmistakably Jafar, with a big stupid smirk on his face, Iago perched on his shoulder.

                      o/` It may be bar-bar-i~ic... o/`                        
                        o/` But hey... it's home! o/`                          

The card lengthens one final time, to reveal that the gates the group stands before are the gates to the palace in Agrabah.

Facilier releases the bottom of the card, which whips back into normal card size... although the image changs, becoming a collage of all of the subjects its face touched upon before. He sets the card down, and without waiting proceeds directly to the third.

               o/` But in your future the place /I/ see... o/`                 

Facilier flips the card over, and pushes it across the table towards Jasmine; it's a picture of her, sitting on a throne. Seated next to her in a smaller throne - a sub throne, if you will - is a handsome man in a big poofy white hat with a feather in it. Off on the periphery of the card stand Jasmine's father, on her side, and a beaming square-jawed man on the side of the mysterious male. The entire affair is helpfully labelled 'III.'

           o/` Is /exactly/ the place you always wanted to be! o/`             

Jasmine has posed:

Jasmine can't even deny that stuff about her homeland, though she's glad enough to see it. The first time she went out, she almost lost her hand -- and in saving it, a boy might have won it, if he hadn't been brutally put to death (or so she's been told). Indeed, when those images appear on the card-scroll, her eyes fill with tears.

There's been a lot of atrocity in her life lately, but nothing quite so personal as the execution that started it all. All those dead SeeD (and Agrabah Heartless) weigh on her soul, but not nearly so dearly as that of the boy in the marketplace. She never even learned his name, and he died for the crime of helping her.

She smiles a bit wetly as Facilier gets to the grand finale, though there's a flash of resentment at the necessity of a prince. Her inability to assume the throne without one rankles, but she focuses on the positive: her father happy and healthy, herself with a true love or at least some sort of reasonable compromise. "It's true," she admits, "I used to be so desperate to go out and see the world, but now I realize... I guess it's true, that you only know what you've got when it's gone."

That sounds like a song -- here come the violins, for the last few bars of a poignant chorus:

                         o/` A whole new world... o/`                          
                       o/` That's where I'll be... o/`                         
                          o/` I'll find my home o/`                            
                            o/` No more alone o/`                              
                            o/` With family... o/`                             

Trailing off, she blinks back up at Facilier. "Thank you," she says for about the eighth time tonight. "Really. This is exactly what I needed to hear right now. You've really got a gift, Doctor."

Dr. Facilier has posed:

The ghost(?) instruments are on the ball, now, and transition directly into supporting Jasmine without misstep.

Once she's sung her part, he grins at Jasmine, and assures her, "Well, down in New Orleans--" he says it 'nawlins', of course, "-- folks like you and I, we find it real important to stick together."

"Now," he continues, leaning back in his chair and stroking at his chin. "If y'all wanted, I could help you with your little... issue," he offers, gesturing towards the second card. He starts to say something else... but then hesitates, and sighs.

"Unnnfortunately," he admits, "I'm afraid that lovely gem wouldn't quite cover something of that... magnitude. For a sweet girl like you, though, I'd be happy to provide the service at cost."

"Which would meannn," he murmurs, doing some quick mental math. "All I'd need from you is... hmmm! Well, a token, really. A trifle!"

Jasmine has posed:

"I..." Jasmine hesitates, tempted. So close, so close!

Her heart flutters in her chest. Her eyes are a little bit glazed; she's been on an emotional whirlwind with the cards, and was pushed beyond all limits of endurance before she even showed up on the doorstep of the Voodoo Emporium.

"...have to know what you mean by 'help' before I can accept it, or pay for it." Missed it by THAT much!

She also gestures to the second card, one fingertip touching the visage of Jafar.

"My father got more help than he could stand, and our people have suffered greatly for it," she points out, sadly. "You're very kind. Please understand why I'm concerned... I don't want any further harm to come to them, even with good intentions."

That isn't an outright /no/...

Dr. Facilier has posed:

Facilier... remains undeterred. This /is/ a qustion he actually fields pretty regularly; few people will leap right into an agreement without some discussion of terms first, and he's rarely so eager or desperate that he has to lambast someone directly into the agreement.

"Well, it's like this, mademoiselle," Facilier explains, leaning forwards in his seat again. "It's real hard to change the future... but it's real easy, too, if you know what you're doing. This..." He reaches out to tap the Empress. "... will happen, almost no matter what. Won't change unless someone tries reaaal hard to change it."

"But who knows how many folks'll die, before then? /When/ it happens, that's the question."

"Now, what /I/ can do," he explains, "Is give y'all a little... nudge in the right direction. Changin' the future with brute force, that's hard, but I can give things a little shake, and... speed up the process. Nothing... invasive, if you get my drift?"

"And y'all've paid me so much already," he notes again, "That all you'd need to do is make me one little promise."

Jasmine has posed:

Oh, Facilier's good. After the last few minutes, Jasmine's not exactly hard to read in terms of motivations, but he still slices right to the heart of things -- her heart, that is, and what it cares for most.

She tilts her head to one side, a fluid, feline motion.

"A promise? What... do you want from me?"

Curiousity killed the cat.

Dr. Facilier has posed:

Facilier makes a big showing of thinking, tapping his chin and scratching the side of his head and hemming and hawwing.

Eventually, though, he makes up his mind with a nod. "Well, you've been so generous already," he begins slowly, turning his best friendly smile upon her, "Y'all just agree to come by and do me a little favor sometime? I've got all sorts of things around here that might could use a woman's touch, sometime."

"My assistant - Rapunzel - she's sweet, but she's just a young girl, and sometimes she has... problems... that a man like me don't know how to help her with," Facilier explains, with a thoughtful frown. "So it'd be nice to know there was someone I could call on, in case of... emergency."

Jasmine has posed:

This particular big show isn't exactly in Facilier's favor; Jasmine's got a minor in seeing through the wiffley-waffley of courtiers and viziers, acquired at Agrabah Palace University. He already knew what the trifle was, right? Why all the show? She looks a little bit impatient, and for the first time very like the teenager she actually is. Come /on/ already, her expression suggests.

But then he does, and she looks... mollified. This is a promise people keep asking for her, and she just keeps giving it, because... showing up and helping someone? Isn't that what she does anyway?

The name does distract her. "Rapunzel? She's with you?" That does a little more to further Facilier's credentials, though the two girls only met briefly. "I'm glad she found a place to work, I was a bit worried about her." All that /hair/. At least her own mane is able to be tucked inside her veil, though the huge hump it creates makes her look like the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Quickly, though, she comes back to the topic at hand. "Actually, I know exactly how you can help my future accelerate. I need information a lot more than I need magic. You've given me a lot already, but one glaring question remains unanswered."

Out of her robe -- what all does she KEEP in there? -- she pulls a ragged scroll. It's been painstakingly painted with an imperfect but basically accurate picture of a certain Sorceress Supreme. The horns, the green skin, the disdainful smirk, the nose looking like it's just smelled a fart and no, it ISN'T hers.

"Who is she, and what does she really want? If you can tell me..." Then we might just have a deal.

Dr. Facilier has posed:

Facilier accepts the scroll, and studies it thoroughly; after a few seconds, a frown appears on his face, and it grows larger over the seconds.

Eventually, however, he shrugs, and offers the scroll back. "I can't tell you," he admits, with an apologetic shrug.

It's not... technically false. Maleficent would bite his head off, if he told Jasmine about her.

"Rapunzel's just fine, though, don't y'all worry," he assures her. "And I happen to agree; you /do/ need information. But magic can do a whole lot more than make a bunch of light and noise. I'm happy to ask my friends on the other side what y'all need to do to put you on the right track."

"So how about it?" he prompts, once Jasmine's taken the scroll back. He opens his hand, extending it in offer to shake. "Have we got a deal?"

Jasmine has posed:

Jasmine disappears the scroll as smoothly as any magician. Her lips purse, disappointed by not terribly surprised. It /was/ a long shot. Maybe she can trick Jafar into telling her, next time she screws up badly enough that he's in earshot.

Then she does something reckless and stupid, because you know what, she's had just about enough of running away from the shadows. It's time to do something PROACTIVE. Something that will move her future FORWARD.

Something like making a deal with the nice fellow who's so very eager to help her out! Yeah!

All of this flickers across her face -- the frustrating, the defiance, and finally, ultimately, the trust Facilier's been waiting for. Life's too short, and the stakes are too high, to turn away all the help she can get, especially for such a /reasonable/ price.

"You ask your friends what I need to do," she repeats, carefully enunciating as she picks her way through the deal, "And I come when you call me for help, once." She grins a little, self-aware enough of her own follies to add, "I can't promise I won't keep helping after that, but it isn't required."

She extends her hand, so delicate and soft, though it's beginning to criss-cross with calluses that weren't there before SeeD got their hands on her.

And she shakes on it.

Dr. Facilier has posed:

Facilier's handshake; firm, dry, three seconds.

Even before he's released it, his smile broadens. And then he /does/ release, and he rounds on the wall behind his chair, one hand snapping outwards towards it; something flicks out of his hand, strikes the wall, and explodes into a plume of purple smoke...

... and the wall sort of falls away, revealing a twisting maelstrom of purple and black. The instrumentation springs up in full force again... joined by the good doctor's 'backup singers', who finally reveal(?) themselves. The wooden masks hanging above Jasmine's head abruptly float off of the wall and forwards, over Facilier's head and into the swirling black and purple void, rotating to face Jasmine and Facilier as they do. Rather than singing, though, they're just providing an a cappella backbeat, in the form of, 'bum bum BUM BUM BUM BUM bum bum'. Facilier, meanwhile, joins in with,

                           o/` ARE YOU READY?! o/`                             

This does prompt a response from the masks, in the form of,

                          o/` (Are you ready?!) o/`                            

And then... the music changes? The heavy drum beat transitions, over a few seconds, into more of a march, and a parade-like trumpet fanfare joins in. Rather than what next, Facilier changes it up;

                         o/` Are you rea-DY for-- o/`                          

Facilier reaches back onto the table, grabs up the Empress, and hurls it into the abyss. It vanishes a beat later, and whre it did, a hole in reality rips open. The masks immediately switch formation, forming into a circle around it; as they do, the hole reveals itself as a window, an image shimmering into view through it.

That image, as it turns out, is of... the man in white with the poofy hat, engaged in a battle with a bunch of Heartless.

        o/` Prince... A... LI! That's who you need! Ali Ababwaaa! o/`          
                o/` Strong as ten regular men; definitely! o/`                 
                   o/` He'll face the galloping hordes! o/`                    
                   o/` A hundred bad guys with swords! o/`                     
                 o/` With sixty catapults! Horses galore! o/`                  
                     o/` With his spears and archers! o/`                      
                         o/` Hashashin and more! o/`                           
            o/` With his forty fakirs! His cooks! His bakers! o/`              
                  o/` His friend that fights with a KEY! o/`                   

As he sings, the 'camera' sweeps across the battlefield; it is, apparently, Agrabah, and it casts a very heroic and A-Team Safe view of the battle, with the Good Guys cutting down Heartless en masse. As Facilier lists this 'Ali Ababwa's' many assets, they're featured through the window, culminating in a young boy with brown hair who is wielding a key as a weapon, and also it shoots lasers??? This is stupid.

                  o/` Make WAY! For PRINCE! A-A-LIIIII!! o/`                   

As Facilier belts the finale, the hole closes, the masks float back into place, and the wall rises out of the ground to return the room into being... a room, and not a door into a weird psychedelic dimension.

Jasmine has posed:

Jasmine doesn't swear. She does not, in fact, know any swear words.

But her face swears for her, when the portal pops up and the masks start floating. This, quite frankly, may have been more than she was prepared for, and she's seen a lot of crazy things. She leaps to her feet, blanching again. Her jaw practically hits the floor, her eyes bug out of her head, and depending on how much attention Facilier is paying to her, he might see her going for something very big and very gunmetal black hanging on a harness under those robes.

She stops, though, letting the SeeD Special Forces Assault Rifle stay sheathed on her back for now, when the window shows... a man. No, look at that turban: a Prince. Capital P. Her arms... fold. Still, him and his warriors, and that little boy -- who she recognizes, actually, from a Missing Persons picture she once saw -- they do a fairly impressive job of retaking Agrabah.

Just the other day she saw enough of the horrors of war to question how very clean that battlefield was, but now's not the time.

"Prince Ali Ababwa," the girl repeats slowly, instead, when the whole song and dance is over, turning the words over thoughtfully on her tongue. She looks much more comfortable after the room's a room again.

"A deal's a deal," she says readily enough; she's never one to welch. "My name is Jasmine. Call me when you need me, and... thank you for all of your help tonight." From her tone, she obviously has the feeling that revealing her name is only a formality, that he knew (presumably told by his Friends) who she was. "All of you."

She extends her thanks to the masks as well, giving them an exquisite obeisance, a bow of her head and sweep of her 'skirts' full of respect.

Because frankly, she respects the hell out of those Friends, and pissing them off by not giving them credit where credit is due is the last thing she wants.

Dr. Facilier has posed:

There's no response from the masks, who appear to have gone back to being completely inanimate... but Facilier does recoil, as if struck, when Jasmine reveals her name. "I never did introduce myself, did I?" he realizes, damn near horrified by the fact.

He makes up for it by reaching up to remove his top hat (underneath it, his hair has grown to fill all available space), and gives a sweeping, overwrought bow. "A tip of the hat, mademoiselle, from Dr. Facilier! I do hope y'all can forgive me for my rudeness."

"And it is, of course, our pleasure to serve," he assures her, as he straightens up and re-dons his hat. "I'll let you know when I need to cash in that favor, of course, of course. And I'll pass on your well-wishes to dear little Rapunzel."

"Other than that... I reckon it ought to be safe outside, by now. Y'all be careful, and feel free to come back any time," he says, with a small wave.

Jasmine has posed:

"No, no, the fault is mine," Jasmine demurs softly, returning the bow with another one of her own, less over-the-top and more elegant, but in no way diminishing his own. "You told me your name right away -- Dr. Facilier's Voodoo Emporium. And surely you could be no one but the proprieter," she points out. "So, please, forgive me. And yes, please say 'hi' to Rapunzel for me... and let me know when you need me to come by."

She glances significantly at the door. "I'll do my best not to let them catch me before you call me, but... you may not want to wait too long," is her honest suggestion. For all that things may work out well in the end, in the short to mid-term, they aren't looking very bright. And if she /can't/ come to him because she's locked up in some dungeon, well... that would be a shame.

"Thank you again, Doctor! Please be safe... these are troubled times."

And with that, she disappears back onto the street.