Neal Cassidy doesn't have a custom title currently.
Born: 15 September 1986
writing, photo/video editing, history, music, vlogging, school, animals, LGBT rights, crafting, cooking, photography
Plotter: No Information
Fairytale Name: Baelfire
Character Age: Looks 36 but is a couple hundred years
Tracker: No Information
Occupation: Former Thief and Current Interior Designer
OOC Name: Kay
Player Age: 29
Preferred pronous: She/Her
Joined: 23-September 15
Last Seen: Jan 17 2018, 07:34 PM
Local Time: Jan 24 2018, 06:08 AM
58 posts (0.1 per day)
( 3.43% of total forum posts )
Jan 1 2018, 10:57 PM
Neal sat in the diner, staring at the mug of hot cocoa with cinnamon. His hair hung in damp ringlets; he’d showered just before coming over to the diner. Little driblets of water lingered on his sweater-clad shoulders even, but actual dripping water had stopped awhile ago. What was I thinking? Why did I agree to meet papa so soon after docking? I should be checking on Henry right now. I should be getting ready for my doctor’s appointment,
he rationalized. They had gotten back an hour ago. And why are we meeting in this place?
He liked Granny’s. The two times he had eaten there he had enjoyed his meal. But it did not seem like a place that Rumplestiltskin would visit too often. The French restaurant down the block and around the corner seemed more up his alley. But his father insisted on meeting here. At least it was lunch time. Neal could eat while they talked, if Rumplestiltskin didn’t mind. Frankly, Neal was going to eat even if his father minded. He was hungry.
Drumming his fingers on the table, he glanced up at the clock. His father would be here any minute. What would they talk about? What did Rumple want to talk about? The meeting seemed a little weird and it made him a bit apprehensive. With the request to meet there had been no explanation – just a time and a place.
He shifted in his seat and glanced at the clock. Less than a minute had passed. This was going to be a very long five minutes. He hoped his father would show up soon. Rumplestiltskin
Dec 18 2017, 12:17 AM
Groggy, Neal blinked. Dazed and confused he stared at the dirt that was under his nose. Fingers gripping the dirt, he tried to work out where he was and what was going on. The sound of pre-teen and teen boys cut through the humid, forest air. It hit him. Neverland. He was in Neverland. How the hell had he gotten here?
Last Neal remembered was Emma telling him she loved him and he’d said the same thing. Then, Neal let go of her hand and fell. He must have blacked out in the decent. Showing up in Neverland was a shock. He hadn’t expected that. Granted, Neal had had no idea where his particular portal would end up. Granted, he hadn’t been thinking about anything except for the fact Emma had been right, he’d been betrayed (and shot), and he was leaving his family. Plus, pain pretty much clouded all other thoughts.
Here in Neverland, Neal couldn’t help but note, his shoulder did not hurt as bad as back in Storybrooke. What sort of magic did this place have? There was little time to think about it when someone’s shoe connected with his side. Neal’s face contorted. “Hey. Hey. Watch where you’re walking,” he grumbled while rolling over on his back.
Blinking a bit more, he stared at the Lost Boy kicking him. “Long time no see, Felix,” he greeted. He did not dare and move. The Lost Boys seemed grumpier than usual. That was a bit unnerving. Scanning the camp, Neal found a lot of familiar faces, but none so as familiar as one. “Pan. What do you want with me?”
Dec 3 2017, 09:44 AM
Neal perched on the rock with a stick in hand. He worked on two different maps. One was the actual star map on how to get home once they saved Henry. The other was of the island itself. The first map was perfectly detailed.
That one could never change. The stars stayed in place. The other he made as best as he could. Neal didn’t know if Pan had put in any new traps, but he assumed that he would have done it – Pan tended to get bored very fast. That was something Neal did not like. It made the rescue more difficult.
Placing the stick aside, he rubbed his healing shoulder. Gun shots hurt like hell. Pressing his hands together, he looked at the maps. “This is as close as I can get,” he said to himself. It didn’t feel like enough. The man let out an exasperated sigh. “I hope this will be enough.” It had to be.
His eyes scanned the camp. He knew about half the people here to save Henry – some more personally than others. One Neal only knew through the stories and from bits of what he’d overhead. He hadn’t actually gotten to talk to his son’s adoptive mother.
Feet planted, Neal pushed himself up and went over to Regina Mills. “We’re going to save him,” he promised, leaning against the tree next to her. He stared at his father sitting off by himself. “Wonder what he’s got planned? I know that look. It’s never good.” Neal nodded towards his father.Regina Mills
Aug 25 2017, 11:05 PM
Neal perched on the log, staring off into the void of the forest. Hands clamped tightly together and chin resting on the double fist, he frowned. Waiting wasn’t something he was very good at, especially when his son was in danger and he was in the place of nightmares. He wanted out of here. He wanted to get his son and go home. Neverland needed to be put behind them all and the time spent here needed to stay in the past. He was getting impatient as Regina and Emma worked out some sort of puzzle.
He wasn’t the only antsy person. The dwarf, Leroy, seemed ready to hack every tree down in order to find out where Henry was being held. He could hear rustling behind him – probably his father or Killian. Then there was another man. Graham, Neal thought he heard him called. He seemed nervous and apprehensive.
Pushing himself from his seat, he grabbed Killian’s rum flash. Sure, getting drunk on Neverland was probably not the best idea, but it was a way to pass the time while the puzzles were riddled out. From the looks on the two women’s faces it was going to be awhile.
“So, uh, thanks for spilling your guts back there in the caves. That couldn’t have been easy,” Neal greeted, sitting down beside the other man. Nothing was easy in the place. “So… I was wondering… care for a game of have I never? I nabbed us some pirate rum.” He held up the bottle and sloshed it. “What do you say?” Graham Humbert
Aug 10 2017, 09:34 AM
Staring up at the hospital, a shiver trickled down the spine. Hospitals were not appealing. They were not great places to visit at all – too sterile in looks, too antiseptic smelling, too crass with noise. This was never a fun spot to stop. But, while it was not wanted it was needed. Because of that, visiting would happen, even if it was an uncomfortable outing.
Getting shot was also unappealing. It was not fun. It hurt like hell. It made a mess. It also meant betrayal. Betrayal sucked, too. Disloyalty hurt just as much as a gunshot. It was almost as messy, too. Granted, there was never any blood getting shed with the lies, but that didn’t matter. The wounds were deep seeded. The wounds cut to the quick and caused every bit inside to ache with distaste. The fresh wounds stirred up old scars and served as a reminder of the standings in life. I will always be left and always will be alone. It’s been that way since childhood. It’s fine.
The thought popped up and sounded bitter in the brain. Perhaps there was some bitterness there. Why wouldn’t there be? Mother left. Father let go. Left adopted family members; left a lover with heartbreak; and ultimately left an unknown son, but leaving him nonetheless. It sucked. It never seem like it would change, either.
Hopefully being in this town, in Storybrooke, would indeed mean change. Hopefully a new lease on life could be found here. Hopefully leaving would be the thing of a past. This was, for the first time in a long time, there was any sort of hope in this life.
Family found. That was the first step. Second step was staying. That made sense. That meant needing a job. What sort of job could a former thief do? The job in Manhattan had not really felt right. That also meant needing to find housing. Granny’s Inn would not be a good permanent home. That also meant finding out if health was in tip top shape.
That was not happening. There was a wound afflicting the shoulder. Sure, there had been minor wound care back in Neverland, but that was not enough to get it healed up. The bullet was still in there. There was a red ring around the hole, too. It probably was infected and an antibiotic would be needed. That decision, though, was best left to the good doctor – Dr. Viktor Whale.
After entering the hospital and waiting for a moment, the journey continued on to a room in the emergency room. The nurse got the vitals. The nurse handed over a gown. The nurse left. Left alone in the small room led to boredom, boredom led to pacing, and then the pacing led to fidgeting with all the little tools. Except for the ones on the table – those were not touched and in fact were avoided like the plague. I do not want stabbed. That would suck.
It seemed a lot of things would suck.
The door creaked open. Standing in the middle of the room with the so far unused iv rack while dancing around room with it was not the best way to meet the doctor. It might be one of the most interesting ways to meet the doctor, though. That seemed almost preferable – almost, but not quite. “Sorry about that. Boredom got the better of me. Hospitals aren’t fun places to be. Although you might think different,” came a rambling greeting. “Former fiancé put a bullet here….” With that came pointing to the shoulder in question. “Help please?”Viktor Frankenstein