Hey guys. I don't own Facilier, or any other characters from the movie. I didn't want anyone to get confused. ;) Okay. Also, I need to throw in as a further disclaimer that this is a HIGHLY self-indulgent story.

Story begins BEFORE the movie. By the next chapter I'll have decided if it's a few months, or a few years before… And I may stray from cannon, in terms of plot. Bear with me, you'll like it. Probably.

Let's go.

xxxx

Facilier liked to people watch when business was slow at his little table on the main street. That wasn't too often, but it was summer, and the tourists were seeking better climes at this time of the year. It was such that he was actually playing with the idea of turning in back at the emporium early, and taking a lazy afternoon. But…he needed all the money he could get. He only brought out his table a few days a week.

He frowned, looking around. No potential customers. Facilier had had only one girl at his table today. He may need money, but he wasn't going to get it sitting there. The air was thick and humid, the sun beating down, and Facilier was dressed all in black. Quitting for the day was getting more and more attractive.

Lazy wails from a saxophone floated through the quarter. Facilier looked over to the musicians sitting in the shade by the shops and restaurants, and saw the saxophone player. It was a white young man, odd, but not shocking. What was worth noticing was his long, long black hair, reaching down to his hips. Not even women wore their hair that long, or even in the manner this boy did, free and tousled carelessly…except while….

Facilier shook his head. What ever- the boy was probably some stupid run-away-youth with romantic visions of New Orleans in his head. Or a crazy person. But who was he to really say or care? Most people thought similar or worse about him.

He decided to pack up and go, losing interest with the heat sucking out his energy.

xxxxx

Out again, a few days later. The Quarter was far busier, it being Saturday. The Witchdoctor was busy with a group of white teenagers.

"Well, little darlin' –lookin' at this card it's plain y'all be married before spring arrives."

The girl squealed, nuzzling her beau, who seemed a bit abashed at the attention.

Though he couldn't help but roll his eyes at the predictability of their reactions, he still found the attention intoxicating, and putting on a little show was something that meshed with him like sugar and beignets.

Facilier was about to ask who would be his next reading when the guys in the back looked behind them and moved aside quickly, alarmed by what they saw but trying to hide it at the same time.

"Hey, what do you think youre doing?" One of them said.

The rest of the group looked back one by one, stepping aside.

It was the saxophone player. He looked back at the high schooler, one brow slightly raised, the corner of his mouth teasing up as if to go into a smirk.

"I think I'm waiting to see the Witchdoctor." His voice was calm, with a faint lilt that was only found in the speech of someone educated. "Do you mean to say I'm in the wrong line?" He made a play-face of being distressed and gasped, putting a hand to his chest. "Say it aint so!"

The girls laughed, the boy who'd spoken earlier turned red.

"No, you're in the right place, Tommy just don't like bein' snuck up behind." A blonde in a blue dress spoke, putting a hand on Tommy's arm.

Tommy stuffed his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders.

"Come on, guys, this stuff's stupid anyways." He said. He started walking off, the blonde clinging on his arm trying to cajole him back. The rest of the group looked at each other. Facilier stood up.

"Now, come on, just cuz your friend's upset don't have to ruin y'alls fun-" He stepped out from behind the table, bending down to one of the girls "don't you wanna take a little trip into your future with me?"

She smiled, tilting her head to the side.

"I wish I could, but we're wanting to move on to the shops. Maybe another time." She handed him some bills, and nudged her friend to do the same. "Thank you though," She smiled at him again, "It was a revelation." She winked and then the group was off.

Facilier looked at the young man now before him, feeling sour about losing the group.

"Welcome to the table of Dr. Facilier." He said, with a little bow. Can't get into a mess over every group that wanders off early. He sat down, and splayed his hand in a gesture toward the young man. "So, what can I do for yuh?"

The saxophone player walked up to the table, looking at Facilier with a weird intensity. Facilier resisted the urge to frown.

"Well, I like to visit a fortune teller or occultist now and then, and see if they're the real deal or not." The young man smiled.

It was pretty rare when Facilier felt the tingles on his neck, but there was that "off" feel about this guy. Yes, tonight he'd be making sure this guy wasn't following him 'round back to the Emporium. He's had some situations before…

"Well, young man, I can assure you Dr. Facilier is as genuine as they come." He added his own graceful smile. Usually it would warm the usual sucker right up and nice.

The young man laughed.

"You all say something like that." He set down his saxophone case (which was a thick, leather briefcase) upright and sat on the top. "You really ought to provide your customers a chair- or maybe that's your way of shuffling them along quickly, eh?"

"You're observant."

Now that the young man was closer, he began looking over him intently for any clues he could gather. He was clearly intelligent, probably arrogant. And though he was dressed in a button-up and trousers with suspenders like the rest of the street musicians the quality was much higher, and he could tell without touching it that it was softer than what they sold to the lower class. Wealthy? Aside from his long, black hair, he was also visually distinctive with yellow-colored eyes. Or maybe they were just a very, very light brown and the light hit them funny. But then again, Facilier himself had purple eyes, so odd eyes weren't too wild of a thing to accept. His face had a Greek profile, his skin had a faint olive tone, though he was lighter than the Mediterranean immigrants. Maybe he was Italian? Doesn't talk like it…

"You probably are too, considering your profession."

Facilier stopped and looked back at the young man's face. He was grinning broadly, clearly amused. Facilier grabbed his tarot deck and began shuffling, annoyed that he had let himself blatantly stare.

"Well, let's get this thing goin'. Maybe you already know the process, but you're gonna take three cards from me, and we'll take a little peek into your future and see what we can see."

The young man pulled out a cigarette case and slid one out, putting it between his lips. He tipped the case towards Facilier.

"Care for a burn?"

Facilier had never heard it referred to like that before, and didn't know where it could be common to do so.

"No, I prefer cigars myself…need a light?"

"Yeah, thanks." The young man hid away his case.

Facilier continued to align the cards together with one hand and brought out a little silver lighter with the other (he kept around for this purpose). He noted that the cigarette hanging in the guy's mouth was of a brand prized by the elite for its smooth smell and taste. His previous dismissal of this guy being a naïve run-away entered his mind again.

"Say, mind tellin' me your name, young man?"

He flicked the lighter lid up and the little flame danced around. The young man leaned forward, putting the end of his cigarette in the flame, holding it just before his mouth between two fingers. But his eyes were on Facilier sitting across the table the whole time. Creepy. Facilier narrowed his eyes, frowning despite being "at work". He snapped the lighter's lid closed and brought it back towards him when he saw it was lit. His customer leaned back and took a long drag, closing his eyes briefly before blowing out.

"Ross."

Facilier raised a brow.

"Do yuh gotcha self a last name there?"

Ross chuckled.

"Haven't had one of those for a while. Guess it's about time I get one again, the world seems to be getting to a point that everyone has to have one to be credible." He sat, elbows on his knees, chin planted on top of one hand. "And you- Dr. Facilier- have you a first name?"

"Haven't had one of those in a while." He replied. He finished shuffling, and spread the cards in a fan before Ross. "Just take three."

Most people grabbed three next to each other, Ross picked his cards one at a time, but quickly. He laid them on the table, face down, as Facilier put the deck to the side. Facilier looked at Ross again, to get a sense impression. Usually it was clear and straight-forward. It was pretty clear this time, but he doubted its accuracy. His sense was that this was not a man who was anywhere near young, and who was drifting aimlessly in the world. He didn't look a day over 20. Facilier felt his gut twist and an incredible sense of dread, as he stilled himself, feeling for any images or impressions on this man's past. It was mostly black. Usually this happened with people who were in denial, or had made themselves forget some horrible event. He did catch glimpses of a woman, laughing- and the sense of being grabbed from behind. He drew back and grounded himself, not wanting to look further. Facilier looked around at the street to put himself back fully in the present.

"I don't suppose y'all remember much about yourself." Facilier said wearily. He turned over the first card. He felt a bit of self-satisfaction as he saw a flash of recognition on Ross' face.

"No one's ever known that..." Ross said softly.

Facilier felt a surge of desperation come from him.

"And you wish y'all could remember but you're scared of what you'll remember…and that's why y'alls here to see me." Facilier watched Ross' face carefully, who nodded.

"To know the truth." Ross said.

He always was right about his customers, but he felt excited all the same. He loved unraveling people.

They looked at the card.

It was black.

Facilier shrugged.

"We already know you either don't remember much or in denial about what did-" Ross looked at him "so let's see what else the cards got to say."

He swept his hand over the card to get the next image. Since the card was an object it would find memories far easier than Facilier could, as a deck of cards wouldn't succumb to emotional overload from prying around in someone's psyche. Plus, he could pick up impressions from the cards with minor stress.

This time the card showed a child version of Ross curled in a corner of a library, sleeping.

"As a child, whenever you could, you'd sleep in your dead daddy's library. You were hiding from something, someone, and you felt safe there. Your youth was filled with fear. But y'all came from a family with money. Y'all's daddy was a Lord."

"Yes…I remember the library. I remember going to the Prince's court with my…" Ross stiffened, "mother."

"Let's change the picture." Facilier ran his hand over again.

He sat back, startled. Ross put his hand to his mouth, eyes wide.

This time Ross was slightly older, a teen perhaps, stark naked and upside down with his hands and feet bound. Reminiscent of The Hanged Man, thought Facilier. On the card Ross was surrounded by blacked out figures, with knives and medieval devices, shadow limbs and bodies all over Ross. He sensed that the card was not being metaphorical; that Ross had been literally subjected to what was depicted. He had been very much a slave. But how? By whose will?

Facilier ran his hand over again, the card showing dead bodies, maimed and in pieces. He was hit by the impression that Ross had done this, he was saving someone, lost himself in the moment. But also he felt that killing was frequent.

"Life was violent, none of it was ever of your choosing. It was forced on you. Lot's of things were forced on you." Facilier felt uneasy, Ross shifted on his briefcase, looking uneasy. "It's not gonna look brighter if I keep goin. We can just go on to the next card if y'all want."

"Just…one more, then go on."

Facilier sighed. He wanted to stop. He almost wanted to look away as he ran his hand over again. Then he relaxed, it was just a blonde noblewoman reclining on a chair, seductively, at that. But Ross leapt up.

"No!" He looked terrified, and of a little card. Some people in the street looked over at the table, wondering what the fuss was about.

Facilier looked at the card again. This was Ross' mother. The one responsible for the previous images, and far more.

"Listen, darl-" he caught himself "Ross, we're gonna move on- no body here likes what's been showin'. I can see y'all got a past worth cryin' 'bout, but I think we oughta see what bright shiny things are waitin' in the future." He swiped the 'past' card off the table and into the middle of the deck. "How about it?"

Ross took a few puffs off his cigarette, staring at the table. He reached into his pocket and tossed a small bundle of bills onto the table.

"Maybe later. Sorry about chasing off those teenagers earlier."

He turned around and quickly walked off.

Facilier didn't try to stop him, just watching him go- until he noticed he left his briefcase with the saxophone behind. He stood up.

"Hey- boy!"

Ross disappeared behind one of the shops and into an alley. Facilier sat back down, sighing. He wasn't leaving his table to return some guy's briefcase. If it's that important he'll come back and get it himself.

Facilier scooped up the money and hid it in his coat, and turned his attention to the other two cards. He flipped them over. They were blank. He slipped them back into the deck, put out that he couldn't satisfy his curiosity.

xxxxx

That evening Ross hadn't returned for his saxophone. Facilier packed up his table, and decided to take it with him and be back out in the quarter tomorrow. The man did give him one hundred dollars. When he actually counted it he nearly fell over. He was not usually the recipient of generosity, though, in this case his customer had been extremely flustered when he left. He hoped he wouldn't ask for any of it back. Facilier would say he already spent it. As he walked to the Emporium he let everything slip from his mind, talking with his shadow all the way.

xxxxx

Let me know what you think- although admittedly there might not be much to say at this point. Things will pick up more next chapter and be more "interwoven", I was just itchin to get started though.

Thanks for reviewing! Oh…I mean reading, reading….*hinthint*