InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I write in purple crayon."

tɦɛ iɳquiรitѳʀ (freemarched) wrote in valarlogs,
@ 2016-04-18 21:36:00

Entry tags:

!complete, emma swan, henry townshend, kenzi malikov, maxwell trevelyan (the inquisitor), regina mills (evil queen)

Who: Trevelyan, Kenzi, Regina, Emma Swan, and Henry Townshend (with ghost Hook)
What: A seance, to contact the deceased Killian
When: This weekend sometime
Where: Regina's crypt
Rating/Warnings: Mostly low - some creepy ghost shit and Max is possessed for a little bit
Status: Complete

Considering the attendees (Evil Queen, anyone?) the ambiance could have evoked a very ‘Haunted Mansion’ sort of feeling. It even smelled similar, a little, down in the depths of a magic-imbibed crypt; the scent of musty carpets, dusty furniture, graveyard grass, wilting flowers, even old, stale pies neglected after a funeral - baked goods the neighbors brought, that just were left to get all crumby. The incense Max brought helped alleviate - cinnamon, sandalwood, frankincense - along with the candles, and the white cloths draped over the back of the chairs (lighter colors attracted the friendlier spirits, it was just a rule).

Though they were looking to contact only one spirit this evening - it had been awhile since Trevelyan oiled the cogs and remembered how to conduct a seance. People tried to all the time - there were about a thousand ways to do it, and it was one of the ‘frequently asked questions’ in the shop he made a home in, growing up partly in Pike Place. And while Regina was technically at the head spot, he knew one thing.

“If he needs to talk through someone, let it be me,” was the Inquisitor’s suggestion. ‘Medium’ was in his job description these days anyway; he was like catnip for ghosts, as any Necromancer would be.

Settling at the table, he glanced at the other participants. It was a good number - you always wanted more than three.

Fine, fine, let the one with the creepy sixth sense ability take the reigns in regards to the communication. It was only logical, and much better than another pregnant woman having a ghost sucked into them (thank fuck for Mary Margaret’s ‘strong placenta,’ whatever that meant). For this particular event they were seated around a wide table with a dark, reflective surface - a black mirror, its potential with magic vast. In front of every willing participant was a small pewter cup filled with the contents of ‘special tea.’

Emma might remember it from their Adventures in Storybrooke. Regina had already warned them to not drink it, by the way - its presence was meant to summon a vortex to the other side. Don’t be idiots, people.

“Fair enough,” she sighed, hold her hands out to each direction. Trevelyan was on one side, considering she’d want to be close to the one possibly channeling Killian. “Everyone hold hands and get ready to focus on him.”

“Is it possible to, uh, ohhhhh, I don’t know,” Kenzi began nervously, wiping her sweaty, clammy palms against her jeans before holding them out for this Friendship Circle of Ghost Summoning. “Accidentally call on something else? Like, this vortex isn’t going to unleash a bunch of ghosts, right?”

Or maybe she watched too many scary movies, but hey - in the end she’d trust this whole thing. Kenzi had to. All or nothing, bitches. Come at us, Bubba.

Considering the very vivid memories that Emma had of the last time she’d been at a seance, trying to contact Cora for information on Zelena, she sort of knew what was going on. The air wasn’t just as thick with tension as it’d been then, but there was something else a little less easy about it all the same. Probably just the general ambience for a seance in general.

Thankfully, little Niko wasn’t being a total fuss or moving around so much so that Emma was overly anxious, although at Kenzi’s question she just glanced at Regina. It wasn’t like Cora had slipped through the last time. They’d been trying to contact her in the first place.

Placing her own hands up, still trying to put the deja vu feeling aside, Emma frowned a little, “There’s probably a failsafe on that, or something, right?” Of course now that Kenzi brought it up, she was curious herself.

Vortexes? Goblets full if a liquid Henry couldn’t identify (and honestly didn’t want to)? Possessions? Ghosts other the one they wanted to talk to? Fail safes? Henry was so entirely out of his element here. He’d dreamed of ghosts and monsters, had fought them both in his Dreams and here, but a seance was an entire different kettle of fish. His attention was bouncing around the table from one person to the next, amber eyes widening each time someone spoke. He had no idea what anyone was talking about. He felt as though he were a little kid again listening to his parents as they talked over his head about things he had no hope of understanding. He was used to that by now. He wandered through his Dreams not understanding a goddamn thing. At least Max Trevelyan was here to guide them along, right? He wouldn’t let them wander off, or let anything else wander in?

Henry hoped so.

He glanced at the man seated next to Regina and then to Regina herself as he placed his hands palms up on the table to take the hands of those seated next to him. He did not speak - he didn’t know either Max or Emma - but he may have been just a little bit apprehensive of whoever decided to show up. The last time Henry had seen Killian, the pirate had just pulled his hand out of Henry’s chest, heart and all. That image was going to be staying with him for a good long time. However, Regina had asked him to come - or more appropriately had suggested that he come - and he wanted to be there, if for nothing else than to give Kenzi the support she’d given him.

Right, drinking the Death Tea was not how Trevelyan wished to meet the Maker. He heeded Regina’s advice when it came to what looked like black silk, swamp goo in dainty cups, and left it alone. As for the aspect of summoning forth other, less friendly entities? “I’ll disperse them if something unwanted shows up,” he promised - Max had been working on both his Necromancer spells and the ones tied to the Spirit tree of things; there were incantations that would disrupt hostile magic, and push it away. He could use that as a backup.

For now though, he cast peaceful aura - one of those Spirit spells, a barrier of sorts, and it lit up in a brief flash of light in the shape of the correct runes, before gently fading. Now it protected the whole table, and would make anything hostile less likely to come through and try to attack.

His hand held Regina’s, with Kenzi on his other side. “Ready when you are?” To the Queen herself.

Kenzi didn’t have the intention to, uh, raise panic or anything - the question seemed legit, considering the circumstances. If anything happened, they’d take the pregnant one and skidaddle while the more magically inclined handled any threat that crossed over. But whatever would happen, she was ready. This stupid place, these stupid dreams, were all hardening her to take the weird supernatural bitchslaps to the face and return the gesture.

Sensing Henry’s apprehensiveness, she squeeze the hand that held his tight. Reassurance purposes, and she offered him a teensy, morose little smile. “Hold tight, Monster Boy.”

“He’s our failsafe,” Regina added as an answer to Emma’s inquiry, taking Trevelyan’s hand. Though she’d been able to defend Snow from Cora’s very unfriendly ghost with some energy blasts, they had an actual medium whose specialty involved spirits. Maybe he was a bit green but if anything, pressure had a way of kicking your ass into gear to figure things out - magic often worked that way. “Emma, if things get a little strange for you, let us know.” Otherwise they’d stop, no matter what. “But if everyone would close their eyes, stay still, and concentrate.”

Staying still. That was key, and Kenzi followed her lead with a nod, breathed in deep and closed her eyes. Story has it that when this had been attempted over in Disneyland (technically Storybrooke, but also technically Disney?), dearest Killian kinda messed it up by hitting his knee against the table. Let’s not do what he did, guys.

It got more and more complicated as time went on, didn’t it. But at least they had someone a little more trained in contacting spirits, rather than just relying on their own magic to muddle through things. Even if they muddled fairly well through it all, she at least had an idea of what to expect from the first time around.

Concentrating wasn’t hard, staying still was slightly more complicated for a pregnant woman with aches and pains in all the worst areas, but Emma was fairly good at being stubborn enough for this. Linking hands with Henry and Regina kept her grounded enough to just settle and focus and hopefully the baby would stay settled at least until they got through this with some answers.

Anxiousness over the whole thing probably wasn’t helpful, but Emma could deal with whatever heartburn or the like came from it later. She’d silently suffer it if it helped to get some contact with Killian.

Henry watched a set of runes light up and fade away. More magic he had no hope of understanding, but he was getting used to that now and it didn’t really bother him the way it had when all this started. He just accepted it for what it was. If things happened to go south, it would be his and Kenzi’s job to take care of Emma - should she need it, Henry didn’t like to make assumptions about people he didn’t know - while Regina and Max did battle with the forces of evil. Even so, Henry felt a little more protected, a little safer now in their little circle made of people trying to look beyond the veil of death.

He felt Kenzi give his hand a squeeze and he glanced at her. He returned her morose smile with a rueful one of his own, ever her cheerleader, always ready with figurative pom-poms. They had this, his smile told her silently, she’d be talking to her brother again in no time! And if this worked, then maybe whatever other plan Regina said she had would work as well. Henry honestly hoped it would, for the sake of everyone sitting there.

He looked away from Kenzi at Regina when she gave them instructions to concentrate. Henry closed his eyes and kept very still. His brows furrowed together tightly as he focused his mind on his pirate mentor, willing him to come to them.

The protective runes that had been cast blocked the invasion of anything else when that cloudy portal above their heads began to split open - first there was a gust of wind or two, something chilly, that made the candle flames flicker precariously but not snuff out. The focusing, the summoning had worked - but not entirely. There was simply the ghostly door to the next life, whatever lay in the beyond, a swirl of darkness and sound, the wind continuing to ripple through the room.

As long as they didn’t unlink their hands, it would be alright. Max thought so, anyway.

He glanced up, squinting at the vortex that had been created. Never before had he seen anything like that, but as he was learning, there was a first time for essentially everything in Orange County. “Try harder - I don’t think he can get through. Is there...a sign, maybe?”

Was he really here? If so, Killian would make his presence known - but it felt like there was still something separating his spirit from crossing realms; the prickly sensation crawling up and down the back of Trevelyan’s neck seemed to be amplified.

It was safe to crack open those eyes, she figured - from peeking she could see Max and Gigi staring up at what legitimately looked like some malignant vortex that would suck them into the fires of hell if they just so farted the wrong way. Kenzi gulped, keeping mostly still, but her grip on the two hands she held onto tightened. “I don’t - he’s supposed to be crapped out of that?”

“Not the words I’d personally use,” mumbled the queen, anxious threads knotting together within her core. Silence from the other side either meant that the spirit didn’t want to talk, or there was nothing there. In their case they already knew where he was, Regina didn’t think there’d be a reason why he wouldn’t want to contact them - so maybe they needed an extra boost, some encouragement to the soul trapped between life and death. “Killian, it’s us. We’re here. It’s me, and Emma’s here, and so is your sister and Henry, and there’s someone who can talk for you. You can trust him.”

Maybe her voice would would transcend that thin veil, maybe it’d urge him to connect. They attempted to beckon Cora the same way, so perhaps -

“Don’t make me whip out the peanutbutter!” Okay, it was an impulsive outburst but she was trying to help, alright? Kenzi was only following the leads here.

Deja vu was a pain in the ass for sure, especially when she half expected to be able to turn to the side just to see the pirate at her other side, instead of the mishmash of Killian’s friends and the seance master in the making. Similarities and differences aside, it seemed like they were needing a little more juice in some department if they were going to successfully get anything out of this.

As much as Emma wasn’t entirely sure what Killian’s aversion to peanutbutter might be, she could catch on to just what Regina was hoping for. “Do we need something familiar to draw him closer? Or just get a steadier connection?” It must eat up a fair amount of magic, transcending the barriers between life and death and all that. Of course all of them throwing something at it might just end up complicating matters.

“Maybe try getting him to answer something?” Was there an instruction manual somewhere on what to do when contacting dead loved ones? Emma was starting to think that should be a thing they looked into -even if she was desperately hoping there would be no more dead loved ones.

Henry kept his eyes tightly shut and he remained perfectly still, except for tightening his grip on the hands of the women on either side of him. Something was happening, Henry could tell, but he willed himself to keep doing as he’d been instructed. Sit still, keep his eyes closed and concentrate. It was Kenzi’s comment that made him open one eye and peer up out of sheer morbid curiosity. When he caught sight of the swirling vortex above him, he opened both eyes and just stared.

It reminded him, vaguely, of the hole in his bathroom wall, that big gaping maw into another world, both foreboding and beckoning at once. He stared at it a little slack jawed for just a moment before he closed his eyes tightly again and turned all his thoughts and concentration again to Killian. Come on, you old salty dog. Say something. Do something. Show them - show us - that this isn’t for nothing!

The tension in the room was so high that when Kenzi blurted out her threat about peanut butter, Henry couldn’t help but snort, pitching forward over the table just slightly with the effort to keep his laugh contained. He opened an eye again, but instead of seeing a ghostly visage a la Jacob Marley hovering over the table giving a brotherly glare Kenzi’s way, all he saw was that swirling vortex.

Henry frowned. He glanced towards Emma next to him when she spoke. He had no idea if anyone had thought to bring anything familiar to draw Killian out and Henry had a half dozen or so questions to ask, none of which seemed appropriate for the situation.

Old salty dog, eh? Well, alright then. Tug and pull at a spirit, and the spirit answers. Max wasn’t about to cast simulacrum again, and render himself unconscious even if it was definitely a way to summon Killian - instead he just had to assume this would work. Which it did, it simply took a minute - speaking across ‘the void’ was no easy task, after all. If it were simple, all the lost souls of the Underworld would be chattering up a storm and the line at the ridiculous London-inspired phonebox wouldn’t put the ones at Disneyland to shame.

The vortex continued to swirl but then there was a flash of light, a blue that gave off an arctic chill, taking shape into something that resembled a floating spirit there on the dead center of the glass table. His face was recognizable, those handsomely rugged features and the grin was just as cheeky as his loved ones could remember. Now he needed a way to speak, as a final step.

Trevelyan felt a jolt then. Mind and body shared with a spirit - dark eyes turned blue too, looking lyrium-infused, but when he spoke his words weren’t his own.

“You have me come all this way and you don’t even offer me a drink besides tea from the bowels of Hell? Utterly rude.”

No instruction manual that Regina knew of, sadly - the original ritual itself (albeit a simple one) was a rarity among spellcasters, merely because the correct routine of it was to also have the murderer and murder weapon in the same room present (along with the goop of deadly tea, but the aforementioned two components were often hard to come by with other people). But this was a variation of it, which was a nice way of putting ‘we mostly know what we’re doing but we’re also winging the fucking crap out of this, partly due to desperation, and adding someone else’s magic to the pot.’

Regardless, it worked - she could feel the frosty change of energy through Trevelyan’s hands, ones she remained linked to for the sake of keeping the circle in tact. “We made all this effort to have you come our way and all you talk about are bowels,” shot back the queen, in what seemed to be the most fondest sass there ever was. Terrible table manners, Guyliner. “We’re coming for you, Killian. We just need some answers.”

Cheeky was good. Cheeky was nice. Cheeky was familiar. Though the weird glow of eyes Max was wearing while possessed by Captain Hook - a little creepy, mmkay? Kenzi worried about this turning his brain into mush, and didn’t know if there’d be any other side effects to channeling a spirit of the dead. Constipation? Heartburn? A late period?

Anyway.

There was a lot of things she wanted to say, so much bubbling in the surface - but she didn’t want to overwhelm the purpose of this entire thing by her sideline commentary or word vomit, even if she had valid questions. Like what’s the deal with Hades, and if they need to battle their way through a throng of Underworld Zombies for his release. Waving would break the circle, so she acknowledged him by the obnoxious gesture of sticking her tongue out.

It was pretty weird, hearing what was effectively Killian through Max, the eye shift, although familiar enough that it wasn’t really a question about if it was him or not. The fact that through this, Regina was able to sound fondly exasperated at Killian was enough to maybe loosen a little of the tightly wound tension too.

“Unsurprisingly, Regina’s making plans to storm Hell.” Or the Underworld at least, lost souls and all that. Since Emma hadn’t caught up to that great adventure and was still wading her way through Camelot’s history, she had to assume there were a few barriers in the way when it came to just slipping on into Hell to get something back. Death probably didn’t like being cheated.

“We know how well she takes no for an answer.” Something Emma fully understood, accepted and agreed with in this case. Despite the potential backlash it might bring, whatever it took, right?

An interesting and odd set of emotions ran through Henry when he heard that voice. Emotions he’d been sorting through since receiving back his heart. Emotions he’d thought he’d gotten a handle on and had overcome. However, hearing that cheeky voice summoned them back anew. Henry opened his eyes and peered upwards first at the visage of Killian floating at the center of the table. Then amber eyes fell back towards Max. A cold shudder ran down Henry’s back and over his arms.

He took a breath and steeled himself. There was so much he wanted to say, but it wasn’t his time. Not now. He glanced over at Kenzi next to him. He squeezed her hand to get her attention and nodded his head towards her brother’s spirit, silently urging her to say what she wanted to, what she needed to. Then his eyes darted to Regina, then back towards Emma. They were going where to get Killian back? Was...was that even possible?!

Well. If Max had any period thanks to being possessed, they were all in trouble. But Kenzi could rest assured that he felt fine now - granted, he wasn’t exactly there; it was a similar sensation to casting simulacrum, that out-of-body, this-happened-to-someone-else sort of thing. He could handle hosting a spirit for a little while - it was what his magic was made for, oddly enough, it gave his body the fortifications necessary. Another person without those defenses, that brand of armor, probably wouldn’t be able to; their brains would leak out their ears and nose in black blood.

“I’d rather discuss your bowels than this asinine plan you’re apparently concocting,” he spoke Killian’s words, a scoff to them - which was also fond in its own way. His concern was due to not wanting to see his loved ones trapped the same way he was. “But if you’re insisting...”

Answers. They needed answers, yet what were the questions? Killian didn’t have much time; Max couldn’t stay possessed forever. “It’s a soul for a soul, that’s how it works - you can’t take mine back unless one stays in my place. But this place is about unfinished business. If more souls leave because they’ve got no further business, it’s detrimental to Hades.” They could take that as they would - he also couldn’t say everything. In addition to limited time, he was also probably being monitored and should anyone make the King of the Underworld angry, there were dire consequences.

“At any rate, if I’m not back by the time Swan pushes out that embodiment of True Love then someone finish the blanket, hm? Oh and, ah...sorry about the heart, lad.” That was for Henry. Obviously.

Quips aside, Regina listened. A soul for a soul sounded like a chilling exchange, didn’t it? It wasn’t surprising how steep the price was - miracles didn’t happen, things of this grand scale would come at some kind of cost. But those who were going to venture down below in this more benevolent version of hell were banking on a loophole, because those did exist. Storybrooke and the Enchanted Forest had plenty of their own contradictions, and she hoped this wouldn’t be any different.

“Trust me, we are insisting,” she snorted, her fingers around Max’s hand tightening. Instinct, really - she just didn’t know if Killian would feel it. “It won’t be long before we’re down there, and we’ve got a plan. You’ll be back in time to finish that blanket, I promise.” There wasn’t letting go of any of this, and Emma was right. No wasn’t going to be an acceptable answer. “Just don’t give the God of the Underworld any lip. You’re going to see us again sooner than you think.”

Yeah, Killian, try not to sass the flamed-haired overlord, would you? As to what the plan was that her highness alluded to, Kenzi wouldn’t freely indulge the details. Probably because the ghostly pirate might take a ghostly shit on his ghostly self. “And no one wants to test my knitting skills,” Kenzi mumbled. “Is there a place we can find you? A landmark? Like a McDonald’s, if the Underworld even has one?”

That way they wouldn’t be stumbling around too blindly. A general idea of where they could meet up in this purgatory would do them good.

McDonalds in the underworld, that was a chilling concept itself. Bad enough up this side of things, give it a devilsh twist and what would you get? The good thing was that no one was wasting time with the ‘oh no, you shouldn’t’ nonsense, it was pointless to give that a go anyway. Emma might not be entirely thrilled at the idea of Neal trudging into the underworld with Regina et al to bring back the pirate, but she was even less okay with just leaving him there either.

They’d been prepared to tether another soul to the Dark One curse to free Killian, if they needed to sacrifice a soul to get Killian back, well, it wasn’t like Emma was going to worry about the minor details in the whole thing. “It won’t take that long at all.”

Maybe not a hop-skip and a jump, but definitely not months. Emma wasn’t popping out the sprog until June, this would all be a horrifically traumatising and distant memory for them all by then. Hopefully.

Henry was sorry about his heart too, for several reasons. But, again, now wasn’t the time to talk about that. Not when the others needed all the information they could get to launch a rescue mission into Hell…or Hades…and they seemed to be on a time crunch. Henry forced his voice to work around the lump in his throat. “Forget about my heart,” he said as ruefully as he could muster up from under his feelings of remorse and anger. “We’ll talk about it when you’re not using someone else’s mouth to speak, Captain.” He would much rather talk to Killian about what had happened face to face and alive, thank you.

He lapsed into uncomfortable silence so that Regina and Kenzi could ask their questions. Important questions that needed answering if they were going to put this plan of theirs into action. And they had to at least try, right? Henry was chilled at the thought of the two of them – Regina and Kenzi (surely the pregnant Emma would not be joining them?) – venturing into the Abyss itself. He was also a little chilled at the cost that would need to be paid to bring Killian back with them. However, it was not the first time the talk of trading a soul for a soul had been brought up in connection to all of this. Henry had been willing to go along with it then and that hadn’t changed with the return of his heart.

Henry’s eyes lowered to the table’s reflective surface. He was angry, yes, but just like the rest of them, he wanted this plan to work. He wanted Kenzi to have her brother back, Regina her lover, Emma the godfather she’d chosen for her child and Henry himself wanted his Captain.

Killian himself wished to return to the land of the living as well - the key was unfinished business, that was why he was stuck in the Underworld in the first place, and he hadn’t been ready to say goodbye to those he loved. He’d sacrificed himself and had taken the death blow with Excalibur specifically to ensure that the Dark One’s curse would never show up in Orange County again, the way it had been flitting to and fro and taking different forms for over a year now. His life was a price he was willing to pay - it was also penance, for all the wrong he’d done while under the curse anyway.

He wasn’t so sure that this plan would work. Or that he’d get to talk about anything in person ever again.

Regardless, he wouldn’t take a necroplasmic shit on everything. “You lot are stubborn,” he sighed, and Trevelyan squeezed Regina’s hand in return - it wasn’t the pirate’s hand, but it was very much him behind the gesture. “When you get here, find the tavern - you’ll know it when you see it. I think you’ll need a guide. It’s...dangerous here, for living souls.”

The Captain paused, struggling to maintain the connection - but he had to go, that was the way it had to be. Killian didn’t want to fucking kill the person whose body he possessed - it could only take so much. “I miss you all the time, every minute,” he added, sounding remorseful, addressing those who had come here tonight. “Even you, Townshend. Hopefully you’ve gotten better with the handcuffs.” Ooh, that sounded kinky, didn’t it?

There was nothing left after that - his time had run out, and Killian left the same way he arrived. Another gust of wind, candle flames flickering, the smoky incense billowing - and then the swirling portal above them closed; Max blinked a few times, not breaking the circle with their hands - but that jolt of a spirit leaving had been a rougher landing that time.

Gods, she didn’t want him to leave. That blackened heart of hers arched, but also served to cement that indestructible resolve of bringing him back - it wouldn’t be long now, Regina would make sure of it. Clearing her throat, she released Maxwell’s hand with cautious hesitance. The room wasn’t so icy now that Killian departed, though the cold had been an oddly comforting presence because at least it was a sign that he was there. “Are you alright? I’m sure that must have been uncomfortable.”

Kenzi sighed through her nose, muscles she didn’t even know that had been tense finally relaxing. Official communication achieved, information gleaned, and now it was putting forth all they knew into tangible action. “Yeah, dude, your brain isn’t pudding, right?” Her eyes blinked to Henry, then Emma. “What about you guys?”

All in all, it felt a little anti-climatic. Although a relief that they’d made contact at all, that they’d gotten the information they needed; Regina had a starting point for finding Killian now, not wandering around blind in the underworld looking for a miracle. It was solid ground to start with. And Killian knew they weren’t leaving him.

Drawing her own hands down to her rounded belly, Emma just nodded slightly at Kenzi’s very creative concern. She figured Max probably took the brunt of all this, playing marionette for the spirit as it was. “Fine. Yeah.” More so since they had some answers and this proved to be a success for the most part.

Henry sat back in his seat and pulled his hands from the table to his lap. He looked at Kenzi and nodded. He was going to need a few drinks when they were done here, but other then that, sure, he was fine. He hadn’t been the one to have been possessed by a ghost, after all. He looked towards Max and wondered for a moment what it had been like for the other man. Where had he gone while Killian was here?

He shifted his eyes towards Regina seated between Max and Kenzi. “You’re really going after him, aren’t you,” he said. “That was the plan you mentioned the other day at my apartment. Did you get the information you needed to find him?”

“Brain’s still intact as far as I know,” Max promised, hands scrubbing over his face - it was also just odd; he’d never seen a seance go the way this one had, and he never had been possessed before either. The feeling of it was cold, and hollow now, it was like something had been set off-kilter and he’d need to straighten everything out again to rid himself of that icy, prickly feeling. “I’m just glad I was able to help you all.” He didn’t know Killian, but if he had the magic that could be useful to ease some of the heartache, then it made sense for him to do what he could.

Probably that Inquisitorialness or whatever peeking through - he’d never thought himself much of a leader in the past, per se, but that didn’t stop him from jumping in to do the right thing rather than choosing to run away. That was something he wouldn’t do.

The mage was concerned about the trip to the Underworld, however - anyone would be. “Sounds like they really are going,” he lifted an eyebrow. “And I know it goes without saying, but be careful. If I can do anything up here while you’re gone, just tell me.”

“That’s the plan,” Regina confirmed for Henry, interlocking her fingers atop the mirror table. It wasn’t something she wanted to announce completely, either, in the scenario their efforts were squashed early on and the last thing she wanted to do was ignite people with false hope - that was unnecessarily cruel, to everyone involved. “It’ll be a small group. Three go in, we split a heart, then four come out. And technically…” A nod was sent to Emma’s direction. “It’s her plan. From another life, that I’m also apparently supporting one hundred percent there, so it’ll lead to something.”

In theory it’d work. Kenzi was all for it. If it meant giving up half of her heart, groovy, she’d be happy to. No questions, doubts or second thoughts on that. “And we know it’s where he official is. We’re not going in totally blind, and we’re probably as prepared as we’re ever going to be when it comes to snatching up a soul from Hades’ stash of the departed. My throat-punching fist is ready for this mini-vacation.”

Her throat-punching fist was her right fist, by the way. It was raised in determined fury.

Honestly, Emma wasn’t entirely sure why Regina 100% supported Emma’s idea (Emma’s idea was a terrible idea, their son was in hell in her idea, clearly Emma had been sleep deprived when she came up with her idea.) “This one has been modified by the Evil Queen though, so there’s a higher success rate.” Although she doubted they’d let anything hold them back in either world. Something the Charmings and Regina had in common was their stubborn determination, a family trait it seemed that didn’t rely on bloodlines.

“Either way, whatever happens, we’ll be waiting on this side, ready to lend whatever help we need should something need doing.” Emma wasn’t going to the Underworld, not like this. She would’ve, of course, had she not been pregnant, but instead she and Henry would stay here, and Emma figured she’d borrow books from Lina or just spend as much time at Lina’s reading through books, just in case they needed a back-up plan.

Worst came to worst, she was sure she could rely on the Guild to help her get her four wayward friends back if they couldn’t get out of hell themselves.

Henry had told Revy that he wouldn’t be as forthcoming with his offers to help in the future, but he truly could not fight his altruistic nature and concern mixed with determination was on his face. These were his friends. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for them. But what could he do? He was no magic user, he didn’t share this dream world, and he didn’t know the first thing about getting souls out of the underworld. Plus, he couldn’t leave Orange County, not with Satan’s Asshole in his bathroom left unguarded for anyone to get their hands on. His shoulders sagged slightly and he sank a little in his seat.

He knew Regina and Kenzi were determined and there would be no stopping them from getting what they wanted, but he had never liked feeling useless, just sitting and waiting. He looked over at Regina. “What do you want me to do?” He asked hoping that there was something he could do to help their trip on this side of things.

Splitting a heart was something Trevelyan was skeptical about, but if that was a type of magic from their particular dreamworld? Then, alright, seemed legit - even if he didn’t quite comprehend the connection between that and leaving with the correct number of souls. He just hoped that it would work because it seemed to be an ‘all or nothing, go big or go home’ type of situation.

“They might need someone to watch the physical body?” he suggested, but really, hell if he knew. It just seemed the logical conclusion - in what was apparently a glass coffin, the body of the one they were looking for was preserved by magic, yet they were going to retrieve his soul. A soul couldn’t survive without a physical body and vice versa - it was important everything remain intact. “Well, not a vigilant watch, but...you know what I mean. I could be wrong though.”

That was clearly up to the two ladies even going on this strange and morbid mission.

Taking Henry (not the one in their presence, obviously) down below with them was a terrible lapse of parental judgment, but regardless, Emma’s plan seemed sound enough - impulsive, perhaps a little insane, but they were the type to never let someone they loved go without a fight. This was the fight, and Regina was always prepared for one. “Someone to watch the body, yes,” she confirmed with a nod, because if all went according to plan, she wouldn’t want him to wake up in a class coffin alone. “We’ll talk more about what we’ll need when we polish up the details of what we’ll be doing.”

Kenzi propped her chin on her palm, tapping her mouth with restless fingers. “And we can always find a phone booth,” snicker, “down there, to communicate with you guys somehow? Let you know we made it. And come up with a safeword in case everything goes funky. Like pineapple, or bicycle.”

Those were two riveting options, weren’t they?

It was all about piecing things together, how to work it properly and logically, rather than just running in and hoping for the best. They had the skeleton work from the dreams it seemed, now it was fleshing it out to a working plan. Emma was trying not to worry about what would come next, not knowing what was unfolding in the dreams made it harder, but she knew Regina wasn’t quitting, and Neal wouldn’t either.

“A safeword actually sounds like a great idea, that way we know if we need to storm the underworld too.” Although how that’d work if it was already failing, Emma didn’t know. “Once we have all the details ready, we should have a contingency plan.” One that would hopefully be redundant all things considered.

Henry nodded. Watch the body? Sure he could do that, no problem. He’d been to a few wakes with open caskets before. Henry remembered attending his grandfather’s wake, how it looked as though the man was about to sit up, yawn, stretch and ask what was for breakfast. Of course, Grandpa had been embalmed. Henry assumed that Killian probably hadn’t been, not if they planned on shoving his soul back inside. All the chemicals of the embalming process would probably kill him all over again. Regina had probably magicked the body somehow to keep it from rotting away while they went on this errand into Hell. Henry hoped so because yuck. No one wanted or needed a Zombie Captain Hook.

They were talking about safe words now, and finding ways for the away party to communicate with those left behind. “Do they have phone booths in Hell?” He blurted out, then felt his face turn a brilliant shade of red. Of course there weren’t phone booths in Hell, Henry. Jesus, pay attention! He sank a little low in his seat. “I mean, yeah, contingency plan. Good idea.”

Oh, Henry, there actually was a phonebooth in the Underworld (distinctly not hell, it was more like purgatory) - but that was a story for another time. “Pineapple’s a memorable safeword, at least,” Max chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll buy you drinks when you all come back. Chocolate milk for the ones expecting.”

Emma looked ready to pop. He just hoped that the trip to the Underworld’s version of Orange County (there was apparently a tavern? Based on stories, he didn’t think eating or drinking anything was a good idea, but) didn’t take so long as to coincide with the birth of a baby. It was kind of comforting, that circle of life - and also knowing that life carried on, no matter what.

They just had to pull a fast one past Hades, Holder of Souls, but stranger things had happened. If you didn’t have hope and belief, well, you didn’t have anything.