storybroken | [event: flashback]

Entry tags:

!flashback

[event: flashback]

Once upon a time, the people of Storybrooke were once the characters from the fairy tales we all grew up with. Then the curse hit and everyone was trapped without their memories in the town we know quite well already.

We all know that story, of course, but what about before the curse? Well, that's where this post comes in. There are untold stories from before the curse that we would like to investigate and these flashbacks posts are where you tell them. Post with your character (with a location or plot idea if you wish) and tag others, as long as they are in their fairy tale forms (sorry Henry and Emma players >: ).

Remember, everyone, play nice and have fun.

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[ They continue on in relative silence. Occasionally bursts of conversation start between different members and peter out soon after, small tidbits of their lives intertwining and continuing despite the presence of the prince they have in their care. Robin is especially jovial about it all, having brushed off the half-loss now that things seem to be rapidly spinning in his direction. He laughs sometimes, initiates jokes or falls into comfortable silences whenever it suits him.

Once there's hardly any light to travel by, the sound of bustling about and crackle of torches scattered about would alert James to their destination. Scattered voices call up in greeting to their returning men, two of the men detaching from James' entourage, leaving Little John to take the prince's arm. ]

We're here.

[James listens closely, or as closely as he can without winding up tripping and falling flat on his face--and it's a close thing, once or twice. The easy camaraderie makes his chest tighten a bit; it wasn't anything like bandits as he would have expected. Well, he already knew that, but it was difficult to think of them as thieving scum when he was hearing them as people.

[He turns his head toward Little John, his hearing acute now he'd been blinded for so long; he can hear the curious notes in the voices of the men in the camp.]

So I hear. May I have my sight back now?

Of course, Your Highness.

[ They may be bandits and Robin may have a distinct lack of respect for James in some ways (okay, mostly just the ways pertaining to his royalty), but Little John seems more inclined to treat the man fairly. ... well, more than Robin at any rate. He removes the blindfold to show what appears to be a small village right in the heart of the forest. There are no buildings, but speckles of tents and occasional torches as lampposts, fire pits as randomly places as anything else, men crowded around in spots and sharing drink and stories and milling about to do one job or another despite the hour, there's even the sound of a sparring sword match off in the distance, quiet but unmistakeable.

Robin's town is alive, if small, and if James looks behind him, he'll see the king bandit himself dismounting Penelope and personally leading her off to the makeshift stables along with James's gelding. He's already been approached by several different men and said a few words, all without losing his stride. This world is his and he's in perfect tune with it, much like James might be back at the castle despite the radically different atmosphere. ]

There's sure to be some food laying around if you'd prefer, or we can find a place for you to sleep for the night. Seeing as you're our... guest, we'll let you decide.

John! [ It's for this that he stops, barely within sight of the flickering torchlight down the not-really-a-road. ] Take him to the keg cart, I'll meet the both of you there when I'm done. We've come all this way, we may as well show some hospitality, right?

[ ... and then he's off again, leaving plenty of his men to begin reacting to their guest now that Robin is no longer in the vicinity. Curious looks and questions to each other abound, a quiet murmur among the camp. ]

[James blinks rapidly when the blindfold is removed, and then can't help but stare, looking around himself. Whatever he'd expected, it wasn't this; this wasn't merely some bandit's camp. It was much more than that. And its inhabitants--there were so many more of them than James somehow imagined, even having heard stories from the yeomen. John's words come at a bit of a distance.

[When Robin speaks James turns to see him, shaking off the fleeting reverie. He frowns and steps forward, ignoring the attention he's receiving.]

Wait; I need to take care of my horse.

[If he had been home and needed in a meeting, come home from a long journey, he would have given his horse over to the stablehands. But for a pleasant day's ride and all the times he'd stopped at inns on his journey now, he had always groomed and stabled his horse himself, and he isn't going to stop now.]

[ Robin stops, rolling his eyes to himself before he turns and makes a grand gesture for James to hurry the hell up. Then he points toward Little John and again off in the distance. Plan is still the same, their guest will just be heading somewhere else first. ]

Come on, Your Royal Pain, if you want to take care of your horse, you're going the whole way.

[The ridiculous nickname makes James frown even as he follows, his pace fast to catch up and then matching Robin's.]

I have a name. I'd prefer if you use it.

[Somehow James felt he wasn't going to get Robin to address him by his proper title, but the least the man could do was refrain for stupid names.]

[ Robin leads his horse simply with a hand along her shoulder and, by proxy, leads the gelding. He turns to regard James as he walks, brow quirked in consideration and amusement. ]

I do use it. Haven't you heard already?

[James gives him a look and moves forward to take his gelding's reins and lead his own horse himself.]

As you say, oh Earl of Assington.

[Yeah, he knows about that little title, Robin. Don't think he doesn't.]

[ Unfortunately, Robin was fulling expecting to remain more or less anonymous... so he gives James a very searching look for the retort. It's caught halfway between amusement (oh, come on, it was a good comeback!) and unsettled. He turns forward to watch the path before he speaks. ]

I'm just a man, like all of the rest here. No Earls in this group, that's for sure. You, on the other hand, are certainly His Majesty, the Insufferable.

Why? Why aren't I 'just' a man also, if you're not an earl?

[Half a demand, half plaintive. Then he lifts an eyebrow, his mouth tilting ironically.]

And what would I have been if I had won?

[ That earns a very flat look, James. It's not the same situation at all. ] Did your father disown you when I wasn't looking?

Well, we'll never know, will we? [ He musters a cocky smile for that one. ]

Did yours?

[It sounds like the same situation, other than the difference in rank.]

[ Robin laughs, then shakes his head. ]

No. You misunderstand. Never mind, we've arrived.

[ He nods up toward the bundle of trees connected by makeshift fences, a very crude facsimile of a stable. There were a handful of horses milling about, several asleep at this time of night. Robin steps aside to circle Penelope somewhere comfortable before he starts taking care to remove the saddle, the reigns, brush her down. For him, the conversation is over. ]

[James shoots him a puzzled look, but nonetheless steps his gelding around so he can still speak easily enough to Robin if necessary. The prince hesitates a bit but then unbuckles his scabbard and arm-guards and lays them aside, rolling up his sleeves before removing his horse's tack.

[He has to hunt a bit to find the brushes, but soon enough he's settling down to groom the gelding. At first he remains quiet, but then speaks up.]

So what is the truth of how you came to be here, then? I've heard a lot of speculation, but gossips are only vaguely related to the truth.

That's just the way I like it, James. What have you heard? I mean—which story is your favorite?

Tell me the truth and I'll tell you my favourite.

[ Shaking his head, Robin laughs. ]

No deal. I have to keep my air of mystery about me, you understand.

Oh, really?

[James peeks around his gelding's neck so only his eyes can be seen, gleaming with mischief.]

You just look like a sore loser to me.

[ Robin sneers, somewhere between genuine and playing along. Rub it in, James, because Robin's determined not to let you win anything further. ]

What was that, Your Lowness?

There isn't much mystery to a child who pouts at a loss, little redbird.

That so? You're pretty dogged for a man who's supposedly not after a bone.

I gnaw on the bones I find along the way.

Then you won't need this one, will you?

But it's the tastiest one I've ever found.

I'm sure you'll survive without it. Nobody likes a glutton, anyway.

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