YoshiSkittlez — Roleplayer Guild

The little bell connected to the entry door of Mr. Gold's shop 'dinged,' however this time Mr. Gold didn't even bother looking up as he was busy wiping down the very last book of it's grime and dust, not to mention that he already knew who it was that was coming to see him.

"Madam Mayor." Mr. Gold said civilly, setting the final book down on top of one of the stacks of clean books lying on the counter top. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Regina made her way to the back of the shop and rested her elbow on the counter top, turning sideways though so she could still keep a close eye on him.

"Rumor has it, a stranger rolled into town this morning. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" Regina asked, her voice still calm and collected.

"As a matter of fact, I do." Mr. Gold flashed Regina a wry smile and used the dust rag to start wiping down his counter. "I showed him to Granny's Bed and Breakfast early this morning-"

"You did what?" Regina asked flatly, though there was an undertone of anger hidden just beneath it.

"He was looking for a place to stay, and I showed him one." Mr. Gold answered in a slow, easy to understand sentence, as if talking to a child. Regina narrowed her light brown eyes, clearly not appreciating the latter comment.

"Well?" She then asked, causing Mr. Gold to look up from the counter he had been wiping down.

"Well what?" He asked innocently.

"What did you learn about him? Where did he come from? What's he doing here?"

Mr. Gold just let out a small, airy laugh, his lips turning up at the corners of his mouth.

"You're the Mayor...you find out." Mr. Gold jabbed at her. "All I managed to get was his name...what was it again?" He snapped his fingers, remembering. "Ah, yeah, Henry!"

Regina's narrowed eyes snapped open and her mouth hung open just a bit, but Mr. Gold kept going as if he hadn't noticed.

"Not a very common name around here, is it? Henry..." He said again. "Wasn't that the name of your dearly departed father? The one you go visit every Wednesday with an arm-full of flowers?" There was a slight hint of mockery in Mr. Gold's voice, and Regina caught onto it straight away, causing her eyes to narrow once more.

"Yes..." She said plainly, letting the word draw out, making it clear that she was thinking on something.

"Well, if that's all you've come to me for, I'm afraid I have no other information to give you. Now if you'll excuse me..." Mr. Gold quickly dismissed Regina from his shop, but the Mayor had no intention of leaving. With this...stranger walking about...she only had more questions. She slammed her hands down on the edge of the counter, making it clear to Mr. Gold that she was indeed, not finished, however just as she opened her mouth to protest, Mr. Gold finished his sentence with a simple, "...please..."

Regina looked shocked as she found herself straightening up, and her feet starting to carry her out the door. Upon her exit, the small bell rang again, and Mr. Gold stopped to watch the door close with a golden grin on his face.

After finishing breakfast, Henry left the diner almost as swiftly as he came in; not forgetting to grab his coat on the way out.
Feeling the wind hit him as he left the threshold of the door, he put his headphones back on as he walked down the street; making a mental note to pick up his car before anything else.

The journey back to the pawn shop was a simple one, as the town was small and easily navigable, though he still received odd stares from the other citizens and could hear the occasional whisper, though nothing other than that.

He stopped just before the entrance to Mr. Gold's shop, wondering what his next move should be. Making a quick, internal decision; he let curiosity get the better of him and headed towards the door, pushing it open with a single hand.

The old bell connected to the door chimed, alerting Mr. Gold that someone had entered his shop. He wasn't too hard to find, even amongst the somewhat cluttered shop. The floor had but just a single pathway between the door and the main desk in which Mr. Gold was standing behind, if someone wanted to take a closer look at something in the far corner, they had to find or make their own path in between the stacks of books and glass cabinets holding an assortment of jewelry, all pushed together tightly like an elaborate puzzle.

The walls were covered as well with all sorts of paintings, tapestries, dream catchers and mounted weapons. Even the ceiling had things hanging from it to make most of the space such as bikes, a couple kites and even a small child's glass unicorn mobile that seemed to be the center point of the entire shop.

Upon the main counter where Mr. Gold stood behind was a collection of old, dusty books. In one hand, Mr. Gold held a dust rag and in the other one of the books off of the cabinet. He finished dusting off the jacket and set it to the side with the few other books he had been busy cleaning that morning and set the rag down on the counter, resting his palms on the edge of the wood and giving his attention fully to Henry.

"Looking for furniture already are we?" He asked, keeping his one hand busy by taking up the rag again and started to wipe down the parts of the counter that weren't covered by books.

Henry took the first few moments of his entrance to survey his surroundings, bobbing his head subtly as he seemed to almost critique the shop within his own head. He removed his headphones once again as he (carefully) made his way to the front of the counter.

"Nah, not yet anyways. Just figured I'd pop in and have a peek." He answered cheerily, placing emphasis on the 'p' in "pop", almost as if making the sound himself.

"Also, I decided it would be nothing short of rude if I didn't thank you for directing me to the inn." He added friendlily.

"Ah, yeah..." He agreed, keeping his focus on the rag in his hand as he finished wiping up the counter before looking up, tossing his head to the side a bit to keep his long greying hair out of his face on the one side.

Immediately, his dark brown eyes happened upon the tiny key that Henry kept on a chain around his neck, and Mr. Gold let up a crooked smile.
"How charming." He commented, keeping his eyes on the key. "Now that's something you don't see every day. Forgive my impertinence Mr. Carlyle, but as an antique salesman, I keep an eye out for the un-ordinary. Might I have a look?" He asked, his Scottish accent having become thick in his speech. He abandoned the rag in his hand, leaving it on top of the counter and held out the palm of his hand, expecting to be handed the key.

Henry's warm expression quite instantly fell into that of defensive wariness, making no effort to disguise it. His hands twitched at his side as he slowly reached up to his neck, lifting the key up and over his head.

He held it in his hand for just longer than a moment, contemplating as to whether to hand it to the enemy or not...finally, with a deep sigh, he hovered his closed hand over Mr. Gold's, releasing the key into his open palm.

Mr. Gold clasped the key tightly, pinching it between his fingers and holding it up to the dusty yellow light that the lamps in the shop gave off. He admired the key for a few moments, twisting it around in his fingertips and muttering a couple things under his breath.

"And how is it you come by this key, Mr. Carlyle? Judging from your...automobile...outside, you don't quite strike me as the collector type." He set the key on the counter between himself and Henry and then started to go through the stacks of books on his counter, as if looking for something.

Henry took a few moments to respond, trying to formulate a good answer in his head. "Family heirloom." He settled on, letting confidence bloom in his tone once again. "It was given to me before I left home. Keep it with me ever since." He lied, his face not showing any sign of slipping; though the cold expression was still frozen on it.

"And having been passed on from family member to family member, the item of which that key belongs to has long since been lost." Mr. Gold guessed, walking to the opposite side of the counter where the books that had been dusted were separated. "As it so happens, I have a book that has been missing it's key for quite some time..." He fingered through the spines of the books until he found what he was looking for and pulled out a small, very old book out from the bottom of one of the stacks and put it on the counter next to where he had set the key down.

The book was smaller than most, just large enough to fit fully in one's hand. It was leather bound, the material having become old and tattered throughout the years, whilst still showing signs of expert craftsmanship. The pages, however, were crookedly placed and almost translucently thin. On the front cover were decorative square-shaped engravings on all four corners, two larger, more elaborate engravings seemed to shoot across the front from the spine of the book. And on the edge of the front cover was a simple, small lock that held a leather clasp in place.

Henry's mouth was agape, his eyes rife with a mixture of remembrance and disbelief. The diary was destroyed - the key all he had left of Alice in this life. This was not possible.

"Perhaps..." Mr. Gold said interrupting Henry's thoughts. "...there was something more than just luck that brought you here to Storybrooke..."

Mr. Gold reached out for the key once more, and held the book gently by the spine while he eased the key into the lock. It slipped it easily, and with the turn of his wrist, there was a distinct 'click' sound. Mr. Gold stopped there, keeping the book unopened and now holding his dark eyes on Henry.

"After all this time." Henry commented in a hushed, almost reverent manner. "How did you find it?" He asked, looking Gold straight in the face. He could have it - her last words, the last essence of his sister that remained here...all he had to do was reach out: and take it. Unfortunately, he didn't think the pawnbroker would be so kind as to simply give the diary to him. Mr. Gold shrugged nonchalantly.

"There are a great number of items here in my shop, it's hard to say what came from where really." Clearing his throat, Mr. Gold twisted his wrist once more, locking the book back up tight and set the key back down in front of Henry, giving it back to him, though keeping a hold on the spine of the book, holding it close to his person as if protecting it. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, and then smiled. "How much is this little old book worth to you anyway? I'd be willing to part with it of course...for a price..."

"The question isn't what it's worth..." Henry began, swiping the key off the counter and into his pocket with an almost cat-like swiftness. "The real question is why you're so keen on keeping an old diary - without a key." He finished in a cold, business-like manner. He had taken enough risks with Rumpelstiltskin. It was time for the game to change.

"I'm a collector." Mr. Gold replied coolly, and with another, uncaring shrug. "Tell you what...I'd be willing to part with this old book in exchange for some of your volunteer work." Mr. Gold began to explain, and then set the book back down on the counter between the two of them, picking up the book he had been in the middle of dusting earlier when Henry had come in.

"You'd be helping me, actually, by solving a little problem Mayor Mills has come to me about recently..."

"A problem, you say?" Henry repeated, his eyes darting down to the book for a split second. "I might be interested." He added with a short nod, and a small smile - though this one lacked the usual cheeky happiness. Instead this smile seemed more fit for a plotting villain.

"How would you say you are with children?" Mr. Gold asked, pausing in his effort to dust the large book jacket. "We've seem to have fallen short of English teachers recently, you'd be doing me a kind service of filling that spot...temporarily of course...and getting the Mayor to stop talking my ear off about it." He split a sideways smile, flashing his golden capped teeth. "You put in whatever time you can during your short stay here, Mr. Carlyle, and the old book is yours."

Henry sat on the offer for a minute or two, his expression lighting up somewhat. "Sure, I can teach. Consider it a deal." He accepted, quite hastily at that, and held out his hand for the older man to shake.

"Better than gallivanting through realms to rescue disassociated doctors from London." He thought to himself with a small smirk tugging at the edge of his lips.

Mr. Gold released one of his hands from the book and shook Henry's hand across the counter, matching the travelers' smirk.

"Then I assume we are done here...unless there is something more I can help you with?" He said, briefly looking down at the book between them, a small sign that Henry was free to take it, as he retracted his hand to finish dusting off the book jacket in his hand.

"Nah, I think we're good here." Henry answered with a nod of gratitude, gently grabbing the book and tucking it under his right arm. However, before he could turn to leave, he let his eyes slowly move down to the book in Mr. Gold's hand: 'Once Upon A Time'. Though he hadn't recalled seeing the book before, he felt a certain yearning to read it; inexplicable, but there.

"Actually - do you mind if I take a look at that?" He asked Gold, stepping up to the counter once more. "I can pay you for this one."

"Oh what? This?" Mr. Gold turned the book around in his hands to take a look at the title and then tilted his head to the side just slightly, and then looked back to Henry. "I'm afraid I can't...actually..." He then replied and wiped off the last bit of remaining dust in the corner of the book. "I was actually cleaning this off for one of our hospital volunteers...there's a coma patient...been in there for years. One of the volunteers finds that reading to her to be easier than striking up a conversation, and I couldn't argue with that since no one knows who she really is..."

Henry nodded slowly as Mr. Gold explained why he couldn't hand over the book.

"Well..." Henry began, letting his hands fall into his coat pockets once again. "I might be able to go to the hospital, maybe I could read to this 'mystery patient', eh?" He offered, flashing his warm grin once again.

Mr. Gold looked at Henry with a thoughtful expression for a moment, a slight glint in his eye that vanished just as quickly as it came.

"Now what sort of man would I be if I kept a man from wanting to volunteer his time?" He asked with a rather coy, twisted grin. He set the book down on the counter and pushed it towards Henry. "Seek out Dr. Stevenson once you get there; she'll get you to where you need to go."

Henry nodded in acknowledgement, taking the second book from its place on the counter. "I thank you for your help, Mr. Gold. I owe you one." He finished.

"As if I didn't bloody owe him enough..." He thought to himself bitterly before turning and heading towards the front door.

"Oh no..." Mr. Gold said quietly to himself as he watched Henry leave his shop. "...thank you."

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