Strange Names & Guessing Games | 1x1 | RP

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[Thanks to Noelle for help with story development]

"I will give you three days’ grace and if during that time you tell me my name...."

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The story of Rumpelstiltskin is a lie.
And you're about to hear the truth.





Once there was a miller who was poor, but in no way was he humble. He possessed a beautiful daughter...one so beautiful that often she was confused as royalty. One day, during the presence of the king, the miller, foolishly boasting, told the king he had a daughter who could spin straw into gold.
Now the king was a curious man. He was intrigued by this girl who could do the impossible, and he called for her presence. He placed her in a small room full of straw, and promptly left her there to spin the straw into gold. The miller's daughter, although clever, could not possibly spin this straw into gold; for if she knew how to, would they still be this poor?
We all know what happens next. There comes a man, a tiny one with strange clothes and a mischievous smile, and he offers to spin the straw into gold for tiny treasures in exchange; the girl's necklace, her ring.

But this, in fact, is where the story goes wrong.

Wandered into the room was a woman of infinite life, an immortal being with nothing better to do but travel the realms and repeat the endless cycle of life. Feeling pity for the poor girl in this foolish land of people, the woman kindly offered to spin the straw for her, and asked nothing for exchange.
She did this again, for the next night, and even on the third night, she finished spinning all the straw into gold although it had exhausted her. On this third night, however, the miller's daughter felt so grateful that she demanded to know what this mysterious woman would like in exchange, and finally, for she had always craved a child of her own, she mumbled,
"Would it be alright, after you marry, if I obtained your firstborn child?" for the miller's daughter would be marrying the king the next day.
The miller's daughter, too wrapped up in her attempt to be able to repay this beautiful woman, agreed immediately. Years passed, and the daughter soon forgot of this promise. However, when she did decide to have a baby, the immortal traveller stopped by, young and beautiful as always, and held her arms open for the tiny boy that would become her son.

The miller's daughter was horrified. She loved this boy more than anything, and she was overcome with jeaousy for the young beauty of this woman.She shook her head, vigorously. "I'll give you all the riches in the world, just not my baby."

The immortal sighed. "I'm sorry, but we had a promise, did we not? Something alive is dearer to me than all the treasures in the world," and she smiled reassuringly. But the miller's daughter would not relent. Finally, the immortal woman struck a deal; if the miller's daughter, now the queen, would be able to guess her name, she would keep her baby.

The immortal woman was not foolish. She did not reveal her name in a song. It is said that when the queen guessed Rumpelstiltskin's name, he yelled, "The devil told you that name!" A part of that is undoubtedly true, for a demon, very like the immortal woman, from the world of demons, came down upon Earth and whispered the name into the queen's ear. The bundle of life the woman had yearned for was stole away from her, and yet she still loved him as her own. She watched him grow, and then when she could not take it anymore, she left.

And that is the end of the story.
Well, not...quite.


...................


"The demon lord always gets what he wants, no matter how long it takes him."







Centuries passed. The little kingdom became a blooming city, and the story of the immortal woman had become a vague interpretation; a folkstale about a tiny man named "Rumplestiltskin." Life was normal, as normal as it could be. Streets of the city would be ridden with crime at night, and yet life would go on, and no one would question the evil that had continued to fester in mankind.

All but one.

A boy, one with a remarkably similar face to the baby of the queen so long ago, questioned it. He questioned everything. And it wasn't long until thsi very questioning brought that same immortal from that story, back to him, to the very place where long ago, a woman refused to keep a promise.

......

Who was this immortal woman, you ask? An offspring of the dark, she carried within her demon blood, and she had escaped the constraints of hell itself. That is why, on that third day of name guessing, did the demon lord come down and whisper into the queen's ear, the woman's name. She was wanted back in hell, but no demon had enough power as she, and they couldn't remain on Earth for long. However, the woman knew that one day, the demon lord would catch up to her. Until then she continued to travel, seeking nothing and everything. Seeking...love.

It was a matter of fate that drew her back to the wretched place she had lost her chances of having a baby to call her own, a spark of life she could not create. For a moment she did not realize where she was, until she saw him.
And suddenly, she knew.

She had to have him.

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Morning light broke through a crack in the thick, sun-blocking curtains which cover the windows of Calcifer's small, one bedroom apartment in a residential area of town. He can hear children laughing outside, probably his neighbors, and the voices of adults warning them to stay away from the swampy area just past the line of trees that the complex is backed up against. He really isn't the sort who prefers to rise early, although many would not consider 9pm to be truly early, and therefore first desires to shut the out of reach curtains and eliminate the pesky light. However, memory serves to remind him of a job in an hour or two, downtown, and if he wants to eat breakfast out (As he does on most days) it will be necessary to leave fairly quickly. With a lazy groan, the strikingly attractive young man kicks off the plain black covers of his bed so that they fall onto the floor, before stepping into his favorite pair of cozy slippers so that the cold wood of his bedroom floor won't send shivers up his feet. The boy typically prefers cold whether, and so spends quite a pretty penny keeping the apartment chilled during the warmer seasons- not that he can't afford it, however. Photography isn't known for being a very well paying business usually, but as a handsome and talented young fashion-photography who lives alone and only really spends money on clothing and food (and dates, of course) he can afford it. The rent is really cheap, as well, but not due to being in a bad area. The apartment he lives in is fine enough as well- the swamp nearby is what causes the low prices, because apparently the last time there was a lot of rain, the bottom floor apartments flooded slightly. Not that he, on an upper-level apartment, should be bothered, but the small price is very much appreciated. It leaves more money to spend on his precious camera equipment.

The young man hops in the shower, smelling like strawberries by the time he comes out because, hey, guys can have nice-smelling hair as well, can't they? He dresses fashionably, in dark jeans, a plain white T-shirt, a vest and a fedora, looking very ska, or perhaps swing. Anyway, the last accessory is the ever-present camera equipment, carefully loaded with love into the bag he has over his shoulder. A brown leather wallet is in his pocket, holding the ID that identifies him as a nineteen year old caucasian citizen named Calcifer Goldenrod. Of course, the ID doesn't mention his career, love of strawberries, or nickname 'Cal', but such government-issued things never include the really important details, do they? Tugging on a pair of shoes, the young man spits a swig of mouth wash into the sink and then heads out, pulling out a pair of sun glasses to protect his lovely violet eyes from the sun. People greet him as he walks to the parking lot, he smiles and stops to hug a child here and there, or chat with an elderly women. Men eye him suspiciously, especially fathers of teenaged daughters, because chances are he has played around with their beloved little girl once or twice before. Upon reaching the parking lot, he unlocks his. . . .bike. Not motorcycle, or car- his bike. Not the coolest mode of travel, but ecofriendly and cheap- plus it keeps him in shape, and is lovely for riding through a park with a girl sitting on the handlebars or standing on the short metal poles that come out from the back wheel. Soon he is off, riding for about fifteen minutes before reaching his customary diner, 'Billy's', and pushing the bike into a stand.

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When he enters, Calcifer is warmy greeted by a busty red-haired waitress who had seen him through the window and rushed over to be the one to show him a seat. Of course, he sits at the booth next to a dark-haired young women whom he hasn't seen before, and smiles charmingly in agreement when the attractive young waitress leans over the table -showing him a fair amount of cleavage in the process- and asks if he'll be having the usual. The charming young lad's usual being a triple stack of pancakes with whipcream and strawberry on top, with a strawberry smoothie for the side. She remains to flirt a bit, something which he readily mimics with easy smiles and sweet words that come as naturally to the young man as breathing does to the average person. Eventually, however, an older waitress snaps at the girl to get back to work, so with an indignant expression she departs. While waiting, Cal's gaze slides over the diner and its customers, as well as the cheerful and picturesque scene outdoors. His eyes land on a young woman with raven hair and mesmerizingly blue eyes, and instantly has a fairly common urge to snap a shot of the subtly lovely woman. So, without any restraint, he slides out a camera and snaps a few shots, not bothering to hide his actions because he very rarely has to, given his looks and smooth nature.

Cutting into the photo shoot is the red-head once more, looking slightly miffed that his attention had been diverted to another, though she is well aware that no relation will spark between she and the young man. She is too much a constant in his life for the fickle boy to really be interested in her, regardless of her sleek hair and alluring body. She slides the strawberry smoothie down towards him and reports that the pancakes will be out shortly. When she leaves once more, Cal switches to the seat just behind the raven-haired girl's booth and rests his hand over the top of the bench casually, head twisted to face her. "I don't think I've seen you around here before," he reports in a voice of unintentional milk and honey, his lavender eyes sparkling with curiosity, as they so often are.

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Calcifer chuckles, not unkindly, at her burst of words, which are followed by a shocked covering of the raven-haired young woman's mouth, making it seem that she isn't normally one who randomly blurts out responses. Or does, and always regrets it immediately after, of course. The young photographer smiles very charmingly at her, as he does with pretty much any woman. There is a reason girls so easily fall for him, and that smile is at least a quarter of the cause for it. His smile fades slightly when she suddenly turns away and begins wolfing down her food almost desperately, before swallowing and informing him that she must go now, her hands shaking like a leaf. Did I frighten her? Impossible! He wonders, not without genuine concern, at the very odd reaction she seems to have to interacting with him, one he hasn't seen before. Nervousness, sure, but this looked very much like pure fear, despite having only just met each other. It is quite unnerving for the generally well-accepted and popular young charmer.

"Are you sure? If you are new here, I can show you around sometime?" he offers, still puzzled, reaching out and slipping his card into her free hand- a card with a pattern of a starry sky in the back, only having his first name and then, under it, his number. For a business card, it is very sparse in information, but perhaps his primary use for it isn't actually business. (hint, hint) Soon the redhead has returned and places the pancakes in front of him, so that Calcifer glances only once her way, even further irritating the attention-seeking waitress, who practically sulks away as Cal's attention remains on the woman before him.

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Although his puzzlement furthers at her nervous rejection of his offer to show her around, one that is very rarely met with anything resembling a no unless a girl is merely teasing, Calcifer's charming grin does not vanish, only fading slightly. He'd pursue this mysterious woman further, for she has certainly snagged his interest with her elusiveness, but unfortunately career, and his love of it, will put the beloved chase on hold for the moment. The photoshoot is in twenty minutes, which is approximately how long it will take him to get there. Calcifer turns around, gobbles down one and a half of his pancakes, and then stands up to leave cash on the table and glance once more at the dark-haired girl with a quite beauty that is almost easy to overlook. "It is rather warm, being summer," he agrees, before using a slightly exaggerated action to check his watch and then beam at her.

"Unfortunately, lovely lady, I must now depart. I do hope to see you again, however- simply call the number on the card, if you will. Fare thee well," he says before bowing dramatically with a teasing smile, running a hand through his disheveled blond locks, and then darting off. He gets on his bicycle and is soon riding off. It is not until he reaches the studio and is half way through a photoshoot, casually flirting with the stunning, blond-haired model, that he realizes that he never caught the name of the mysterious raven-haired girl at the cafe. Hopefully I can fix that, he thinks before smiling at the model.

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Calcifer smiles at the model, who leans against the wall right next to where his arm props him up against the wall, giving them the stance one might view as either confrontational as romantic, protective or aggressive. In this situation, quite characteristic of the smooth young man, it is flirting, as the blond beauty before him bats the thickly mascara-covered eyelashes that frame her baby blue doe eyes. Much to his confusion, and the girl who floats to his mind has caused a good deal of it in the short period he has been aware of her existence, those blue eyes make him think of the ones that dominated the raven-haired girl's face. He shakes the thought away and leans in closer towards the very indulgent model in front of him, who smiles dazedly, quite smitten with this photographer, and leans in to kiss him on the mouth. He pulls away and smiles sheepishly at him, before pulling her in for another long locking of the lips. This continues for around ten minutes before he decides that a drink is in order, and asks the model if she would care to join him to the convenient store for a soda. Although the girl doesn't drink caffiene, she agrees for the sake of his company, and they duck out of the studio. Soon she has wrapped her arms around one of his, while the lanky young man hardly notices, so accustomed to the feel of a woman at his arm. They walk on, flirting and joking quite casually -for him anyway- and pedestrians glance at them and see a very beautiful couple out for a walk- very picturesque, indeed.

The two purchase beverages, he a strawberry soda and she an iced herbal tea, and go to sit down in a nearby park together while on their hour-long lunch break between photoshoots. Although the young model has worked with him before, and had her heart broken by him as well, she seems to forget those happenings while leaning her petite head against his shoulder and taking a sip of her drink. She looks at the clouds, and he at the people and scenery surrounding them. Every now and then, his arm moves to grab his camera and snap a shot of an interesting scene.

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Calcifer was chatting firtatiously with the young model when, in the distance and partly hidden from vision by several trees, he spots a familiar face smiling down at a small child, before walking over to the playground within close proximity to them. After watching the entire scene of her helping the boy and being rewarded with a kiss go down, he can't help but smile to himself in amusement. The model frowns slightly, "Cal? Cal? Earth to Cal?" She says jokingly, twisting her head around to look at what has distracted his eyes. However, on a whim, he pulls her back around before she can see the raven-haired girl and plants a kiss on her lips, preventing her from knowing exactly what had captured his attention moments ago. Why he did it, the young man cannot say, although perhaps because something about the raven-haired girl seems slightly different, slightly off, and he definitely wants to be the one to find out what that is, being a competitive person on top of his insatiable curiosity. Although the model's eyes are closed, his open to watch the raven-haired girl longer.

When the kiss is broken, the model smiles softly, undeniably beautiful but in a rather common sort of way, and glances down at her watch. "We still have half an hour," she comments softly, looking back at him in a suggestive manner which makes him raise his eyebrows with both amusement and skepticism at her implications. "Oh, my lovely Angela, there are children here! How indecent," he says with a charming and teasing grin.

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When the elusive raven-haired woman walks away, leaving the park it seems, Cal glances with a slightly dimmer smile at the model and makes an exaggerated motion of checking his watch, just as she had, and shaking his head. She looks at him, puzzled, as the young man stands up and steps away from the bench, smiling at her but posed in such a manner that makes him seem about to walk away. In turn, she stands up and faces him, her smile bemused, "Are we going back already, Cal? We have time, still, you know," she says with a sort of pout, crossing her arms slightly as if to signal some sort of closing. "Sorry, Angela, but I've just recalled a brief appointment made with a friend that I really must dash to. Besides, the next piece you are to wear is the center of the entire spread, and very elaborate. You should go back early to get ready for it, hair and makeup and all that, right?" Angela sighs, but sees the logic in this, overlooking the sudden excuse of a pre-made appointment, and nods slowly.

"I'll see you in a bit, then," she tells him before turning around and walking off. Even her casual walk has a sort of power to it, for she is one of those models who can be found on both the magazine cover and the catwalk. After the beautiful blond has departed from his sight, Cal's smile grows once more, his eyes sparkling with curiosity usually reserved for children (although he is hardly an adult at this young age) and turns to run -not walk, but run- in the direction that the woman had walked off. He glances at the playing child she had assisted on his jog after her, smiling to himself as usual and stopping momentarily to snap a picture, and the runs off once more. He slows to a walk when she is back in sight, and watches as she enters a cemetary with a forlorn look that is hard to find, even in the most sad of people, because there is a strange age in it that doesn't match her physical age. It prompts him, just as he had in the diner, to take out his camera and snap a photo of the elusive young, to him at least, woman.

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Calcifer was focusing on the face of the young woman so that he wouldn't have to look further at the tombstones- namely the one which he had stopped visiting two years ago when it finally became to painful, when he convinced himself to move on. Instead of answering her question, voice nearly choking up with apparent pain that he cannot see the foundations for unless she is visiting a dead loved one here, he smiles at her and takes another picture of the delicately hesitant expression on her face. The young man then strides over to her and shakes his head, letting the camera drop back down around his neck, a motion which sends a little familiar chill through his spine as the cloth thuds tightly against the back of his neck. He runs his fingers through unkempt blond locks and flashes the raven-haired young woman another dazzling and somehow comforting smile, his eyes normal sparkle slightly dulled by the setting, though the childish curiosity remains. She stands right in front of an unfortunate place, two graves which hold the names 'Ronald Goldenrod' and 'Cynthia Trice'. The last name of the former marks him of some relation to Calcifer, should one know his surname, but the female doesn't seem to give an intimation as to why they would be set six feet under but next to each other. That is, until one notices the twin death dates on the tombstones, which raise questions and imaginings.

The violet-eyed young man stretches his arms upward towards the limitless sky, and then sticks one out to shake the petite hand of the raven-haired young woman. "I didn't catch your name earlier- and now that we've met twice, I feel I should," he insists sparklingly, doing his best to ignore the graves she stands in front of.

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Calcifer kept his eyes systematically trained on the raven-haired woman's face as she glances back at the graves bearing the names Ronald and Cynthia, not wanting to look at the headstones once more. Not when the sky was so bright, the day so lovely, and the woman before him so mysterious and, therefore, alluring to the violet-eyed young man. She seems to have calmed slightly, her hand no longer trembling so violently, but still uncertainty hangs in those midnight-blue eyes- causing Calcifer to raise the lense in front of his eye once more, and action which gives him a vastly better perspective on people. Looking at her in this manner, he zeroes in on pale and fragile looking hands, a mouth that lacks the normal amount of laugh lines, and eyelids that sink just slightly with some sort of exhaustion or inexplicable emotion. As soon as the camera is dropped, however, he can no longer clearly see any of those details, only remember them. And so, as a substitute, he talks once more, her name reminding him of something.

"Umbra, is it? That is very lovely, doesn't it mean shadows or something of the like? Pulvis et Umbra, I beleive?" he says, quietly proud of himself for being able to identify this, due to taking two years of latin during high school before switching over to French. "How suitingly bewitching. Yes, may name is Calcifer. Calcifer Goldenrod- a pleasure to meet you, again." The dramatic bow from their first encounter is recreated at the end of this greeting, and he resurfaces with a reviatalized twinkle in his eyes and smile on his mouth.

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Calcifer grins happily when she confirms that he is accurate in his estimate of what her name means, thinking that this is probably the only time those years of learning the language will ever come in use, since he doesn't want to be a scientist or tattoo artist. The fact that she was surprised with his knowledge did not even give him the thought that she may have found him dumb- his ego only heightens with the certainty that she is impressed with him for knowing the phrase and meaning of her name. Why such a lovely young woman would take on a word meaning shadow for her name, he naturally does not know- however, before he can inquire further on the topic, she is changing the subject with a strange look in her eyes. Had he been paying more attention earlier, the young man might've actually witnessed the evolution of her recognition, although what she recognized would have been completely lost on him either way. How is such a boy, a soul still very young, to ever imagine himself the descendent of someone inadvertantly wrapped up in a tale now universally dismissed as fictional? Of course, he has always believed in fairy tales, even the girly ones, to some extent. He loves the idea of a beautiful princess waiting for him, her prince, or of clever animals outwitting selfish humans. It all is so enchanting to him, with his curious and childish mind, one that seems at odds with his flirtatious mannerisms. Another thing that he fails to notice is that she took on her own name- or rather the oddity of that. He assumes she is concealing her name with an alias, or changed it once she became old enough to do so (not that she looks very old at the moment).

His smile dims slightly when she dismisses herself, but he knows it is about time for him as well to leave. Something about her leaves the impulsive young man with a whim itching on the back of his mind- something in her eyes, something strange about her mannerisms. He walks up to her and grabs her arm gently, eyes curious. "Why must you go so soon? Does my breath smell bad?" he jokes a little bit but, as always, is genuinely curious about it.

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Calcifer raises an eyebrow questioningly when she rushes to assure him that his breath doesn't smell, surprised by her sincere reaction to what had clearly been intended as a joke of sorts. Her genuine attempt to comfort him is somewhat endearing, however, causing him to smile slightly at the frazzled young woman standing before him and fretting over words already spoken. She hesitates before calling him kind, a word that somehow amuses him further, because though he hears it often, generally not with such a timid nature to it. He is the sort who usually maintains good relations with his exes, and so is rarely viewed as especially cruel, except perhaps by those who may have had to deal with the girls' broken hearts and flowing tears. Her skin flushed the color of pink roses, a positively alluring color, and her eyes dart with apparent nervousness that she seems ill-equipped to make any attempt to hide. He felt some sort of inexplicable force drawing him to this unassuming young lady, stronger than his normal interest towards any given fling of recent times, and and so doesn't let go of her arm.

Suddenly she inquires if he would like to go for a walk with her, and his eyes sparkle whilst she quickly covers her mouth in shock at the apparently impulsive words that had jumped from her rosebud lips. However, before he could make any sort of response, the young woman breaks into an abrupt fit of tears, the fat drops of salt water rolling down porcelain cheeks, staining them with streaks slightly darker than the normal hue of the skin. He freezes up, eyes widening in severe shock at the sudden burst of emotion, and his mind goes completely blank at the sight of this. Calcifer isn't the most adept at handling the tears of women, and hence his lack of control of this sudden stillness. His mind reels at once, trying to find a way to stop these terrifying tears, before he leaps to a whim at the way he generally uses to stop a girl (whom he knows, of course) from crying. The young man leans in and kisses her.