[PSL] Retreating - for chippedvaliance

[ There is no lock on the cellar doors, but what lies at the bottom of the stairs looks, sounds, and smells almost exactly the same as anyone who'd been down there last might care to remember it, right up to the chicken wire cage and the man in the suit seated within it, though not atop a stool. The sunlight creeping in from the door leading out shows swirls of heavy dust in the air, picking out the subtle profile of the man sitting there, a vague shimmer in hair that curtained his eyes from catching the light (and needed washing). The splintered remains of what had been a spinning wheel are strewn about the dirt floor of the dim chamber. The cage door is not locked, just slightly ajar and ignored. ]

[PSL] Session 2 - for contocricket

Rumpelstiltskin didn't know what to expect when he came in for his next appointment, given what directly preceded it. He heard Belle make the phone call; he knew the cellar might come up, and a day just hadn't been ample time to prepare himself, not when he couldn't even really find the words to explain to his wife how or why he ended up there, beyond "I just needed to be alone."

He couldn't even think of a different subject to start off on just to avoid ever bringing the conversation in that direction.

The state she'd found him in was not apparent when he sat down in the office; he was clean shaven, the suit like new -- a red shirt, today, under the black jacket and vest. He was already fidgeting, perhaps to be expected. Their last session had been like pulling teeth, and while his general MO seemed to run in that circle when it came to disclosure of any kind on his part, he had the decency not to look as though he was having any more fun dodging than Archie likely had trying to land a shot.