Bad Intentions

[Dr. Facilier]

May 17th | Open to the entire Blackblood Legion. Simba is suffering from major amnesia and does not remember a thing. Have fun, and do not mention IC to Simba who he actually is. (please note you do NOT have to write a novel, I just needed to set the scene!)

“Why are humans so foolish when it comes to supernatural beings?”

“You tell me.”

The two demons stood behind the lanky form of Facilier, who was offering an amulet of sorts to the Loa, represented by the voodoo masks hanging on a wall in his private chambers, hidden by a massive velvet curtain. It wasn’t much in the way of the amount of spirits he had promised them, but it was something. The larger mask on the wall accepted the gift, as smoke drifted from its jaws. 

“I know it isn’t much, but if I can just have a little more time---”

“Quit grovelling and let’s get this over with. They’re just masks on a wall, what can they do to you?” Alastor hissed, as he tossed a bag of chalk towards Facilier. The witch doctor caught it rather quickly, with a scowl on his face.

“You’d be surprised.” Facilier growled, as he tightly clenched the bag in his fist. He then undid the drawstring, and took out a stick of chalk. Within a few minutes, a sigil was drawn on the floor, with some guidance from Alastor and Corson. The candles were lit and placed on the sigil, and the stage was set.

“So tell me why this is necessary, when there are three fully functioning demons within this army that can do exactly what you need to be done?” Corson asked, meeting Facilier’s eyes.

“Because what I need done requires stealth, and Agrabah already knows who you three are.” Facilier said, as he dusted his pants from chalk dust. Corson rolled his eyes in response, and pushed the leather-bound tome towards Facilier. The witch doctor opened it and set it atop his desk, turning the pages until he was looking at the same exact sigil that was on the floor. He had never had to use a Latin spell, but there was always a first for everything, he supposed.

Attenrobendum eos,

ad consiendrum,

ad ligandum eos,

potiter et solvendum,

et ad,

congregontum eos,

coram me.

A blindingly bright white light emerged from the sigil on the floor, knocking the candles over with force, as Corson and Alastor looked on with neutral expressions, while Facilier covered his eyes with his arm. When the light finally faded, there stood...a very familiar red-maned lion, where the demon should have been. The trio’s eyes widened as they slowly realized exactly who it was. But before either of them could speak, thick black smoke began to swirl around the lion, materializing into the demon that the three of them were expecting. His yellow eyes carefully observed them, before settling on Facilier.

“I’m quite surprised you felt the need to waste my time when you’ve got two powerful demons right here.” the demon said, narrowing his eyes at Facilier. The witch doctor scowled in response, and opened his mouth to speak, just as the demon made a fist with his hand, effectively cutting off any vocalization from Facilier. Alastor and Corson repressed the urge to laugh, watching Facilier claw at the air for words.

“That’s better. Now, before you waste my time any more, I’ll leave you with this parting gift. I’m sure the Legion will make good use of the former lion king. But, do be warned, there is a catch. Should he disobey his summoner, the human, he will perish once more.”

The demon disappeared without so much as an explanation, leaving the trio with Simba, who now stepped forward, as he shook his head and looked at the three of them.

“Where...am I? Who are you guys?” Simba asked, as his worry grew exponentially. He remembered absolutely nothing prior to this, and at the very least...he was terrified. Facilier looked back towards Corson and Alastor for a moment, before stepping towards the lion king. He was quite familiar with Simba, especially as one of the former Sultan’s overseers. But perhaps the most amusing part was that Simba couldn’t remember a thing, it seemed.

And for the Blackblood Legion, it was their perfect opportunity. 

Corson leaned down to Alastor’s level, as he whispered in the other’s ear.

“Isn’t that the lion that Scar’s family--”

“Quiet, you brute.” Alastor snarled, shoving into Corson with his shoulder before he could finish his sentence. The less that Simba knew, the better.

“You’re in Agrabah, your new home.” Facilier purred, as he slowly approached Simba. Simba watched Facilier circle around him, following the witch doctor’s every move. Something told him that this man couldn’t be trusted, but with his current state of mind...he really had no other choice. Eyes locked onto Facilier just then, as the former king asked the most important question of all.

“Who...am I?”

Facilier chuckled, and began to guide Simba towards the door, leading him outside of the room. He gestured for Alastor and Corson to follow, as the four of them walked out towards the courtyard.

“That’ll be answered soon enough, my friend.” Facilier finally said, as he pushed Simba forward, and right into the line of sight of some of the Legion’s finest members. Simba’s head turned from left to right, observing the others around him. He knew none of them, not even the other lions that were standing before him. Facilier rested his hand atop Simba’s head, gesturing towards him with his other hand for the others to see.

“I’d like y’all to meet our new friend...Mekonnen. It seems that he’s bumped his head, so I’m gonna need y’all to be a little patient with him.” Facilier said, winking at the others in the hopes that they would understand what he was trying to convey.

[Morren and Esca]

Morren could feel her clenched fists shaking and Esca beside her both felt and mirrored her growing rage. The wolf's heckles were up, his lips curled back into a terrifying but silent snarl. Her eyes jumped between Facilier, his...creatures, and the new feline (she still wasn't quite sure of its species despite seeing its kind about Agrabah). She could feel the spirits that flitted about Agrabah calling out in horror and shock at what had just happened and she knew it could only be one thing that was setting them off so.

Necromancy.

The thought that Facilier had done something so wrong, so againts the laws of nature, made her stomach turn. Some things should never be tampered with. Some lines should never be crossed. Her hand rested on the hilt of her obsidian dagger as she contemplated just rushing forwards and slitting the feline's throat. A quick death to release him back into the oblivion of death where he belonged.

"Don't! His creatures will stop you before you can do it. They'll kill you before you can kill the cat." Esca's warning echoed in her mind and her hand slid from her dagger. Of course he was right. Still, she was not going to remain silent at this abomination. This may be too public a place to immediately confront him but Morren would not hesitate to corner him later.

[Perthmail]

Fingers had been drumming against his forearm when Facilier graced the room with his presence. He had known beforehand he was doing something he probably shouldn't, the stir of power within the room over had warranted his attention. It had only increased as further demonic essence bled into the palace grounds. There were already enough demons here, another would probably just cause a civil war. So when Faciliar strolled out with a red-maned lion a dark brow quirked on the pirate king's face. Wasn't that...?

Mekonnen.

Facilier called him a name that he was not, and while he could give drinking points to the tall lanky man for his creativity he could not help narrow his gaze. He knew full well who Simba was, Kula's memories had been shared with him and he could almost swear her hate was his own. Despite this he pushed away from the wall he leaned on, pushing through the gathered members and over to Corson, Alastor and Facilier. A small glance was given to Alastor and Corson before he focused his attention on Mekonnen.

A smile crossed his features before he moved to get eye level with him. Kula was probably going to lose her mind over this. "Mekonnen... Nice to meet you. I'm Perthmail."

[Nasira]

Nasira covered her shock by lifting an eyebrow. How the hell...? 

Her mind immediately reeled back to Simba's demise. Nasira had fervently orchestrated the ambush that ended Simba's reign, but it was his own sister that delivered the coup de grâce: Kula. Nasira remembered it vividly. Kula cut a great gash in Simba's throat. He screamed like a banshee, and as Nasira jubilantly looked on, blood gushed out of him in a continual tide as he clawed feebly at his sister. Then his head lolled unnaturally to one side, and he was unquestionably dead.

Now back to the present, Nasira watched Simba through narrowed eyes. Why would Facilier bring him back as opposed to...literally anyone else? Simba was their enemy, and Nasira would have thought Facilier would have chosen to bring Mortaray back. The amount of power needed to bring someone back from the dead was as scarce as hen's teeth. Why waste it on a monster?

I could have brought my brother back, Nasira thought despondently.

"I'd like y'all to meet our new friend...Mekonnen. It seems that he’s bumped his head, so I’m gonna need y'all to be a little patient with him."

Nasira recovered her equanimity. She had questions, but now was obviously not the time to ask them. For now, she would play along. 

In the corner of her eye, Nasira thought she saw Morren reach for her dagger. The vizier quickly stepped forward, passing Perthmail. "Welcome to Agrabah, Mekonnen," Nasira said evenly, her dark eyes unsmiling. "My name is Nasira al-Taweel, and I would like to take this opportunity to formally welcome you to the Blackblood Legion."

[Tabs]

Tabs made it his business to know everything. He’d made it an art; gaining information. It was his job to know -- not his job as Overseer, oh no, his capital “J” Job as a subject to the Producer. His loyalty to the Blackbloods was unquestionable, but he always had his bigger Master to please as well, and Tabs would use his skills gained in service to the entity as readily in his tasks on Earth. Ergo, where big things happened, he was never far away...

Even if at first he wasn’t seen.

Of course he knew who Simba was. If it was important to the Blackbloods, Tabs knew it. Lion kings and their various exploits meant nothing to the perspective of a million year old eldritch demigod. The unavoidable drama that was likely to happen may as well be the squealing of pigs to Tabs. But, many things would be below a creature of his stature… humans, Earth, this entire war as a whole. Needless to say, he got involved in the business of those “below” him quite often anyway.

Tabs couldn’t give a toss about feline royalty, true -- but he could see value in having control of a figure so important to the Freedom Fighters.

Clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack

Seemingly from nowhere, came the tell-tale footfall of three keratin hooves. The four-face stood over the majority of others. Tabs didn’t walk for long before he stood at the front. Long curved claws twitched slightly as he lifted them to his chest. He leaned up, giving an acknowledging sweep to those gathered, and gave a low bow on their behalf. No one could put on a show like Tabs.

“Surely I speak on behalf of all in welcoming you back, friend,” he spoke in a rehearsed way, too theatrical to have been wholly spontaneous, “And I am Tab Lloyd Inquirer… friends call me Tabs.”

[Shan-Yu]

The lion’s crimson gaze swept over the slowly growing crowd, as he looked from the rather slim woman approaching him, to the giant monster with four heads. He had no idea who or what they were, all he knew is that the only beings he could trust was that lanky human male and the two zebras next to him. Mekonnen found it odd that they bore no stripes, and that they were a lot larger than what he was used to seeing on the savannah.

"My name is Nasira al-Taweel, and I would like to take this opportunity to formally welcome you to the Blackblood Legion."

"The…the Blackblood Legion?” Mekonnen asked, as if unsure about the name. He then turned his attention towards the monster with four faces, and raised a brow in response.

“Welcome…back? I’ve been here before? I’m sorry, I can’t remember a lot besides waking up in the cave that belongs to him.” Mekonnen said, gesturing towards Facilier. The witch doctor came to the former king’s side as he spoke, intent on supervising the exchanges between his fellow Legionnaires and “Mekonnen”. Before the lion could speak again, a large figure cut through the small crowd that had gathered, pausing only when he was next to Nasira. He bowed his head in respect to the Grand Vizier, before turning his golden gaze onto the witch doctor and the strange horses next to him. Shan Yu still hadn’t quite grasped the fact that both Corson and Alastor were demons, and far more dangerous than any horse he had ever owned. He crossed his arms over his chest, as he watched the red-maned lion speak.

“I’m sensing some…unease here. Is there something wrong with the lion?” Shan Yu asked, keeping his voice low enough only for Nasira to hear. Facilier shot a glance towards the Hun, locking his violet eyes onto the man, as if to say “don’t you dare say another word”. Shan Yu raised a brow, supressing a laugh from deep within. He still found it amusing that Facilier would challenge him, knowing that he could break that man’s neck with such little force if he really wanted to. Shan Yu raised a hand to dismiss his question, and stepped foward to introduce himself to the lion.

“Hello Mekonnen. I am Shan Yu, the overseer for training here. I’m glad to see you’ve chosen the right side of the war.” he said, curling his lips into a devious grin. Mekonnen tilted his head in confusion, looking up towards Shan Yu and the tall woman, who seemed to be the authority here.

“A war? For what?” Mekonnen asked.

[Sarafina]

"Why, for our homes and freedoms!" The voice was light as air. Cheery, even.

Sarafina parted from the crowd like water off a crocodile's back, a smile that would do any such animal proud slitting her face perfectly. Padding forward the lioness took herself right up to the former lion king and let her expression brighten like a lover reunited. "You couldn't have forgotten, Mekkonen!" Resting back on her haunches Sarafina took Simba's muzzle in her paws, brushing his mane from his face as though she'd done it all his life. "The Blackblood Legion promised every member the happiness they deserve, free from the tyrants that stole the Pridelands from us!"

Slow on the uptake Sarafina was not.

Turquoise eyes studied Simba's face with a heavy regard. Whatever the lioness seemed to search out must have been vacant, for her expression became crestfallen. "Oh, Mekkonen -- you truly don't remember? Not even me...?" There might have even been a mist of tears clinging to Sarafina's lashes as she smoothed his mane back again.

Right before wrapping her forelegs around his neck with all the desperation of a wife clinging to her dearly departed husband.

Sarafina sniffed delicately, half-burying her face in Simba... Mekkonen's mane as though she couldn't resist cuddling into the male. The expression that met Facilier's over his shoulder though was raging and cold as the furthest reaches of space, promising many questions once she wrangled him into private quarters.

And a price to be paid in blood if the answers failed to satisfy.

Warmth had returned to the lioness' face before she pulled away enough to meet Mekkonen's gaze again, head tilted and a smile that spoke of soft sadness on her muzzle.

"... I guess it's alright. What matters is that you're back with your family now. Thank you, Facilier," Chips of ice met the witch doctor's eyes, a dissonant pairing to what fully appeared to be an expression of grateful love. "for finding my son."

[Tabs]

Tabs just let things go on for a while without interference -- nothing good came out of smothering. It was his opinion that it would be better to weave the illusion that Simba had been a Blackblood the entire time -- those that knew him would be confused all the same, but if he thought the Blackbloods were his family, it would be all that much more difficult to convince him of the reality of things. Tabs knew the strength of emotions and that strength could be all theirs if they were able to weave the illusion of a bond.

A soft noise of approval sounded from the enigmatic being. The lion queen Sarafina seemed to be picking up what he’d laid down. That was good. Sound of his hooves came again as he began to make a wide circle around the two, allowing them ample space. Tabs’s movements were casual, but eight red eyes observed keenly, expertly tuned to each facial expression as he gazed into them. He caught some unspoken ill will directed at the witch doctor. That… was not good.

He concluded his little walk and placed himself right at Facilier’s side. The message was clear as it was silent; he would stand with him. Granted, such a.. frankly extreme exercise of magic warranted a little bit of discussion to say the least, but Tabs was ever paranoid of the escalation to violence given the colorful personalities around him. A claw lifted slightly and just barely brushed Facilier’s back to get his attention.

“If you’d like it,” Tabs’s voice hissed for only Facilier to hear, “you may have my support if anyone gives you.. too much grief for this.”

It was hardly a promise by any means, but Tabs didn’t want to stand idly by as someone who’d been polite to him might find themselves in a little hot water. He wasn’t anti punishment; he just didn’t want things to get out of hand. It paid to be careful he thought.

[Nasira]

Nasira raised an amused eyebrow. Sarafina's masquerade was so convincing that Nasira could not help but wonder if she was in on it too - despite the fact that it refuted Facilier's explanation that Mekonnen was a new recruit. But the look Sarafina gave to Facilier over her "son's" shoulder was far from conspiratorial and dispelled that possibility as quickly as it came. Like a pearl that had haphazardly fallen from a merchant's stand, Sarafina had snatched the opportunity.

But as impressive as Sarafina's charade was it was glaringly clear that the whole thing was in danger of unraveling. How were any of them supposed to keep their story straight if one had not been decided on ahead of time? It was a good thing Mekonnen was so disorientated; otherwise he might have noticed the inconsistencies.

Nevertheless, Nasira made a help yourself gesture with her hand. It was too late to go back on Sarafina's contribution, and she had her own pearls to catch. "I'm sure you and your son have a lot of catching up to do," the vizier said placidly. "Why don't you show Mekonnen to his room and get him settled in?" Mekonnen needed to be isolated until Nasira could meet with the overseers, and she might as well leave him with Sarafina while she questioned Facilier. Nasira was painfully aware this gave Sarafina plenty of time to weave an even bigger web of lies, but apart from throwing him in the dungeon, Nasira's hands were tied. Ah well. Sarafina will fill them in later. 

Tabs whispered something to Facilier, but Nasira ignored him and spoke to Facilier as if the propagandist was not present.  "We need to talk." Her voice had lost all of its conciliating warmth. "Walk with me." 

"The rest of you are dismissed."