It takes about ten minutes for Regina to arrive at Boxer Park; her journey slower than that suggested by her phone as she stops several times to drink in her surroundings curiously. She has grown so used to living in Storybrooke that the idea of navigating her way around a city has very little appeal; a notion somewhat solidified by what Henry had told her about his last trip over the border with the blonde and golden imp in tow. There's very little order out here; very little hierarchy or respect for one's standing, and she supposes this must be something Emma finds perfectly acceptable, but the busy hum of strangers fills her with a sense of anxiety that making mortal decisions and ruling a kingdom never had.
The sign for the park has been decorated with synthetic cobwebs and a couple of plastic spiders, and she wonders- yet again- why the strange beings outside of her control will banish and fear things for eleven months out of the year, yet embrace them and celebrate them come fall.
Idiots.
She muses, although she has to admit that the structure she spies as she enters the park is rather impressive. What looks like it was once a small factory building left standing empty on the outer edge of the park has been dressed up with spooky accents and has gained a graveyard made up of suspiciously new-looking headstones. The boarded-up windows have had SOS messages spray-painted on them in black and red paint, and as she watches, a tall man in a black knitted cap makes his way from a truck through the faux cemetery with three lifeless bodies trailing hay clutched under his arm. He is met by a short woman who helps him inside; her gender only discernable due to the cut of her coat, her face covered by a grotesque hag's mask.
I will never understand these people...
No, but the Queen's bemusement reminds her that she's come here under the impression that she might find Emma- the very epitome of confusing life choices in her eyes- and so she approaches the building with her hands balled tightly in her coat pockets until she stands close enough to read the signs that have been hammered into the soil outside the entrance.
BEWARE!
KEEP OUT!
Seem to be the most popular salutations, but conversely, behind one of the signs warning any who read it not to enter, the admission times and costs have been listed in chalk, along with some frolicking ghosts.
Haunted House - Enter if you Dare!
Open from 6pm - Last entry 10.30pm
8+
Under 12s must be accompanied by an adult.
Adults- $4
Children- $2
All proceeds go to the CPOFOF
Please don't touch the actors
And most importantly- HAVE FUN!
"House doesn't open for another hour or so, Miss."
A voice informs the brunette, startling her, and she glances over her shoulder to spy the man in the knitted cap making his way back to his truck.
"Oh, I wasn't...-"
She frowns, not sure she can think of much worse than fumbling around some old building with a hoard of fear-seekers and actors lowering themselves to scare-comedy.
"Shame."
Her companion smiles, offering her an appreciative nod, and she returns his grin with a polite shrug; not minding the attention in the slightest, but not about to change her stance on horror houses.
"What's CPOFOF?"
She asks, gesturing towards the sign.
"Children and Partners of Fallen Officers Foundation."
The man replies, and the brunette raises a brow as she asks curiously
"You're an officer? A cop?"
"Me? No. No, I'm the law, but not that kind of law. I'm an attorney; crime of all shapes and sizes. I have my foot in the CPOFOF pot so to speak as I deal with the police a lot in my line of work. There are a lot of us that help out with these events that don't wear a badge but have their reason for lending a hand. Some are volunteers, and some, like myself, are what we call Outsiders. Lurkers behind the law."
"I see... And that would include bail bonds work and the like?"
"Bail bonds? You don't strike me as a bounty hunter."
"I'm not, and I'm very much alright with that, thank you."
Regina sniffs arrogantly, and the man grins in response.
"It's less glamourous than it sounds, I'll give you that. Bonders generally work solo, but we have a couple of familiar faces that come and help out. Why? Were you looking for someone?"
"Oh, I... I suppose I was just curious."
The Mayor replies uncertainly; wanting to ask after Emma specifically, but concerned that if the blonde is lending a hand- very much unlike her, but then it is Halloween- she might be led inside and introduced, and she hasn't quite decided what it is she plans to say to the younger woman when she finds her.
She's saved any further intrigue when the pager clipped to the man's belt buzzes against his hip, and he glances down to check what it says before offering the brunette an apologetic smile.
"Sorry, I need to get moving. We still have a room full of corpses to set up."
"Well, I'd hate to keep you from that."
Regina pulls a face, raising her hand in reciprocation to her companion's farewell, before turning around as she hears a familiar voice approach her from behind.
"Come on, if we're quick, we can choose a good place to jump out from later!"
Henry beckons Freya as he hurries up the path to the Haunted House. For a moment, Regina fears that he might recognise her from the street outside his home, but he's too busy chatting to his friend to spare her a glance. Both he and Freya now wear purposefully ripped and dirty clothing, their faces slathered in white paint with ghoulish shadows smeared beneath their eyes.
How horrible...
Still, she imagines that's the point, and she allows herself a small smile as she catches Henry holler a greeting to the man unloading his van and the woman that emerges from the house in her hag's mask and purple rain boots.
"Henry Swan, you look positively ghastly!"
The hag greets; her voice muffled behind cheap latex, but not so badly that Regina isn't able to hear what she says, and she feels her heart break just a little.
Well, what did you expect? He doesn't know any better. Emma doesn't know any better. That's why you're here.
True, but, while it had been she that had given the blonde her altered memories in the first place, she finds herself placing blame on the younger woman out of sheer habit and decides that, somehow, the Saviour has given their son ammunition to wound her on purpose.
After all, it does help to make her feel better.
"Thank you."
Henry smiles at the hag in response to her insult, and she removes her mask to reveal dark skin and bright pink hair cropped close to her scalp.
"Did you bring the wristbands or am I going to have to punish your mother?"
The hag-not-hag asks; simultaneously offering Regina confirmation that she has now located both missing members of her family, and vocalising a sentiment the Mayor has frequently felt inclined to administer herself.
"Got them."
Henry holds out a cellophane wallet stuffed with thin strips of orange plastic, and the young woman takes it before leading both Henry and Freya inside.
What now?
The brunette asks herself, pulling out her cell phone and checking the time.
5.10 PM.
Slipping it back inside her pocket and raising her gaze to the sky, she considers the purple tinge of oncoming darkness before glancing back towards the van where the man she'd spoken to earlier pulls out a wheelbarrow and begins loading it with further gory props.
"Excuse me, is there anywhere good to get coffee around here?"
She calls over, and he straightens up from his doomed task and nods.
"Head up the path and out of the main gate and you'll see a little cafe with a blue awning. Crafts. Or, if you want something boring and unoriginal, there's a Starbucks a little further down."
"Thank you."
Regina smiles, unsure what would make one cup of coffee 'boring' over another, but she knows that asking further questions is unlikely to be wise.
"Got your fill from thirty feet away, then?"
The man grins knowingly.
"Not quite. But, as you said; you don't open for almost an hour."
"You're coming back?"
"I might."
She nods. Turning around and heading off in the direction of heat and caffeine, she slips her hand into her pocket to rest around the small packet of charmed candy corn; supposing she'll just have to wait and see what tonight brings.
There's no rush, that's what you need to remember.
Better safe than sorry.