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). We ask that you warn for spoilers in your subject line if you intend to use knowledge gained from tonight's episode in your scenario. Thank you!

Remember, everyone, play nice and have fun.

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[ The sudden gust of wind manages to cause for half of the twigs in her hold to scatter across the snowy ground, and Snow can't help a very unladylike curse-- but it's been long since she'd been a lady. Her frustration mounts, and she can't help but give the snow a childish kick before she sulks off towards the cave, the remainder of her gathered firewood clutched in her grasp. ]

[Frost chuckles a bit, but it sounds like nothing more than a rustle of leaves. Silly little girl. He swirls around her again, mockingly--the timing of it even makes it seems as if there is purpose there. Be respectful, girl--he can help you.

[He senses a stack of twigs and wood beneath a fallen log, left there by some other creature--an imp, perhaps, a dwarf, a leprechaun. It doesn't matter. The snow swirls a little more forcefully, without deliberately trying to dislodge the woman's hold on her wood; if anything it seems to be trying to guide Snow's attention. Beyond the next few lines of trees, close enough to see but not close enough for detail, Frost sculpts his physical body of ice and sharp-edged limbs. His icicle hair chimes as he flashes his presence for barely a moment before letting the body disintegrate. This way.]

[ The chilling wind picks up again, and she wonders if this is Mother Nature's way of mocking her. Even as she tries to move against the current of the swirling flakes, everything seems to guide her direction toward the trees. Her eyes glance around the area, and when she catches the brief sight of what seems to be a body composed of ice, Snow freezes.

The work of magic?

She has never associated magic with anything good or positive, but it can't help but pique her interest. Cautiously, Snow makes her way towards the place where the figure had just appeared, a hand dropping down to the hilt of her dagger for protection. ]

[She's not unobservant. Good; that will make things easier. The breeze swirls around her again, and that whisper that comes seems to come out of the snow around her, so light that hearing it could be a trick of her ears.]

This way.

[Frost drifts further away, in the direction of the wood-pile. He reforms briefly through the trees, his hair tinkling, his ice body looking blue-white in the overcast day; then he's gone again, enveloped in the whirl of snow.]

[ It could very well be a trap, especially with the way Snow thinks she hears the wind whispering to her. But she continues to follow where she thinks she's supposed to head, through the trees until her eyes fall upon the fallen log. Is this what she's supposed to find?

Snow glances around the area, checking if this could possibly be an ambush. ]

[Once she's near enough Frost uses a wind to kick up the snow on the log, sending it everywhere. Once it settles again the little hollow should be visible enough--though she may need to look closely to find what's in it. Regardless, in that hollow would be a good store of wood; certainly more than she now had in arm.

[The breeze dies to nothing more than the faintest trace. This is where he meant to lead her.]

[ The sudden kick of the log startles Snow who is already on edge, and she takes a step back, her dagger unsheathed and held out to defend herself. When she realizes that it's nothing more than the wind, though, she cautious steps forward to peer into the hollow.

Her wary expression quickly turns into one of delight as she spots the store of wood, much more than she could have hoped to gather on her own. Glancing around, Snow sheathes her dagger before carefully gathering the firewood in her arms.

She feels a bit foolish, but she knows that she didn't happen to come across such a finding by chance. So she clears her throat, before hesitantly calling out to the wind: ]

Thank you.

[Frost acknowledges her gratitude with the soft touch of a breeze and drifting snowflakes in her hair. At least she has that much respect and awareness of the forest's magic; it deserves clearer warning, at least. So with the next breeze he whispers.]

The deep forest is not meant for you. Take your rest and go.

[ Snow is sure she isn't imagining the whisper in her ear anymore, and the words she hears only cause for her chest to clench. She knows whoever, whatever has good intentions... but she doesn't have many options. ]

The forest is all I have left.

[All she has left? What an arrogant phrase; it's not hers. The next breeze is cold enough to be faintly cutting against bare skin--a warning.]

The forest does not belong to you.

[ She shivers from the breeze, but the words that come with it is what freezes her. But soon anger flares within Snow, and she can't help but snap a bit. ]

I know I do not own the forest. But it is my home.

[ She feels silly for arguing with something she can't see. Perhaps she is going crazy-- the cold is finally settling in beyond just her skin, causing her mind to imagine things. Her grip tightens on the firewood she has just discovered, and she turns on her feet to head back in the direction of the cave. ]

[The wind and snow swirls, focussing on a point only a few feet in front of her; in only a matter of seconds the snow has gathered and Frost is standing there. He looks basically like a man, but made of ice, his body sharp-edged and face forbidding, his blue eyes narrowed.]

What right do you claim to make it your home?

[This time his voice issues from his mouth instead of the air, but when he speaks it comes with an arctic blast. Most humans, when they come this deep, seek only to claim the forest for their own.]

[ She stops when she sees the body form before her, and other than the widening of her eyes, her surprise is masked. Nonetheless she stands her ground, her chin tilting up as she finds her voice. ]

I only wish to live amongst the forest until I can make my way to the next realm.

[He tilts his head, bird-like and studying, unnerving in his intensity.]

What is keeping you from making it?

[The winter only began recently; she must have had reason to journey to the deep forest at its onset, rather than bypassing it to the next human kingdom.]

[ Though she tries to appear strong and unwavering to the magical being, Snow is very much anxious inside. Her previous encounters with magic have never been pleasant. ]

My fortune is not yet great enough to afford the passage to the next realm.

There are better ways to make your fortune than in the deep forest.

[He's not convinced she has any reason to truly be there, and it shows in the way his eyes narrow further, the cold his body radiates. The snow gusts, the frost on the branch nearest him spreading.]

It is difficult for me to make my fortune in this time of the winter, regardless of where I am. But I cannot seek refuge in any of the nearby villages.

[ If possible, the air around her seems to be lowering further and further, to the point where she cannot help shivering, even the lightest of her breaths visible. ]

[The air around him billows out again, colder than before.]

You are a fugitive.

[It isn't a question; why else would she be unable to seek refuge where her own people are?]

Why should you be allowed to remain here, where others might come to seek you? Who hunts you?

[ Her teeth are chattering now, and she's sure that icicles are beginning to form on the tips of her lashes. But she knows she can't escape from this conversation, and she knows that lying will not aid her situation. ]

T-the Queen of Celan seeks my h-heart

[He hisses, snarling, and this time the air blasts around them. His features suddenly seem sharper, his hands curving like daggers in the air.]

Her.

[Yes, he knows of her--a witch who seeks to control more than her due. Abruptly the wind and cold cut off, as if drawn back into Frost so they no longer press on the woman before him. Instead the winter man watches her through slitted eyes, still suspicious but no longer quite so threatening.]

If it's she who seeks you, you may yet find sanctuary here. What are you called?

[ The temperature returns back to normal, and Snow lets out a grateful sigh. Even though it is still cold, feeling begins to seep back to her fingertips. ]

I am Snow White.

[For the first time Frost shows something other than anger or intensity; rather, he looks startled. Then abruptly he laughs and throws out his hands; it makes the snow swirl around him, but it seems to be more in play than in threat.]

You are aptly named. I am Frost.

[ Snow isn't exactly sure how to react with the sudden laughter and the swirl of snow, but his words draw a small smile from the female. Some days she thought her name was somewhat of a curse, but she's glad that someone thinks otherwise. ]

It's a pleasure to meet you, Frost.

[It would be silly to disapprove of a name so in keeping with his own nature. Frost tilts his head, a bird-like movement that makes his hair chime once again.]

I will not stop you from remaining here, Snow White. Still you should not linger more than is necessary.

[ Snow bows her head to show her appreciation, and she nods in understanding. ]

I do not wish to impose on the forest longer than needed. I will take my leave as soon as I secure my passage to the neighboring realm.

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hairchimes - 2011-12-08 05:20 (UTC) - Expand

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