Author's Note: Howdy! Just wanted to get my head on straight for a second; for reference, I started the first story with Facilier around eight, then skipped to how his parents met, then went to Facilier around twelve. This one'll take place when he's around eighteen or so, and just starting to dabble with the Other Side. Also, I'm looking for good historical references for the future, or people who know a lot about the types of voodoo he may have used.
Anyhow, sorry for this interruption, and hope you enjoy the stories. Reviews are absolutely loved, along with any ideas for what y'all want to see next. c: Thanks!
He couldn't take his eyes off his own reflection. So normal, so average, exactly as he noted it to be… except for his eyes. Funny how something so tiny as the color of his irises could twist his entire appearance. He shut them tightly, trying to recall his face without these additions – handsome, thin, but with warm brown eyes that kept him from looking like a skeleton. Human eyes.
But now? Facilier opened his eyes again, to once again marvel at how they changed him. It was as if a part of him was gone now. Years and years of having his mother's eyes were suddenly wiped clean. There was only a moment of grief… more at his own dashing good looks than any resemblance to his mother… before he realized the undeniable freedom of this minute change.
He was a self-made man. Every good in his life came from him. His work, his ambition, his success… All him. None of that silly woman, none of nobody but himself. He stopped being revolted at his reflection, and started feeling pride. One of a kind fuchsia eyes. Showy, unique, and the stuff that brilliantly stands out amongst all the little people of the world… his style.
"Mama Odie said there'd be some side effects, eh? Didn't think it'd be something quite so lovely." He said aloud, speaking to no one in particular. "…Well, she's an old bat anyways. Not as though I'd trust her judgement." He ran his hand through his hair, which returned to its peculiar shape shortly after, and then rubbed his chin slightly. "…Now just to put all that she told me though to good use."
The young and very joint-y man turned on his heel, and clapped his hands together, before eagerly scribbling shapes and dotting the premises of the dusty old building, newly bought, with all sorts of this-and-that. To be honest, Facilier didn't believe (at first) that the other side would arrive with all this so-called voodoo going around… but one puff of smoke as he tried to conjure something tiny just the other day, and bam. Pigment rearrangement – and the opening of a new- no, hundreds of new doors.
After frenzied labor, Facilier finished, wiping the chalk on his hands off on his face, and smiling wide with pleasure at the end result. Intricate, yes. He didn't quite understand why, not like them dead guys needed it… However, it did look darkly splendid, and in a way he could almost feel the power rippling through it. His voice was slightly sarcastic as he began to speak, eyebrows raised in a mix of excitement, and lingering skepticism.
"Oh great Loa of the dead," A pause, as he admired the key to the ceremony, a tribal mask stolen from a guy who stole it from who-knows-where. Its mouth was nothing but a razored grin, its empty eyes and horns clearly spelling demon. He returned its wicked smile, and then continued his little speech. "Friends… How y'all doin'? I know y'all have a lot to attend to, but I need to ask you a little favor, if you don't mind."
Suddenly there was a rush, as all the candles of the room were extinguished. Although his voice shook, there was something ecstatic, anticipatory about his tone. "Now this is what I'm talkin' 'bout."
Swirls of color, the faint shapes of shadows. Tormented souls and twisted figures of animals and people. He could only see them clearly out of the corner of his eyes it seemed. Whenever he tried to focus on one, it would vanish. They didn't speak. They only made noises somewhere between screams of agony, and angry groans. Yet he could understand their words perfectly.
What do you seek?
"I'm in the market for success. Power. Money, you name it. I'm lookin' to be good pals with y'all, if you can hook me up."
What do you have to offer?
"Well. I'm a little broke right now y'see. But I promise y'all I'll pay you with twice what I'm asking. Swear. My word's sound, honest. Facilier always repays his debts, or dies tryin'."
Groans and cackles filled the room as they seemed to think it over, before shadows filled the air, and screams of all kind. Colors twisting and turning, the jaws of the tribal mask ripping open as a funny little trinket was spat out, coming from a Technicolor abyss that he assumed to be the underworld. The Other Side. He tried to take it all in, all of the sounds, and the unholy sights. It was gone in only a matter of seconds though, before he was in a still and chalky room once more, only memories of the nightmarish flash filling the air.
He grabbed the knick-knack, and held it up in the sunlight, admiring it from all angles. A necklace of some kind, made out of a pair of bear claws. A dark laugh sounded in his throat as he lifted it over his head, slipping it cheerfully over his neck.
"Yes, yes… Yes!" His shout filled the room, sending a few birds perched on one of the windowsills fluttering away. Hands in the air, he screamed his story of success to the ceiling, waiting for the necklace to take effect. …And yet, nothing happened. It's a pity that voodoo didn't come with an instruction manual for beginners. However, everyone has to start somewhere, even if it is on the wrong foot.
