[Patients had come and gone from his office that day, leaving him with nothing to do for a short while. Times like that, Archie saw as perfect for getting a little fresh-air and giving Pongo his daily walk.

And so out they both went, strolling on down the streets, different conundrums on his mind about patients, what was best for them and what was best for himself.

Finally, he came to a stop on the curb across from the clock-tower.]

Huh...

[It was still a nice sight to see the large time-device working again- although, could he really say 'again' when he couldn't ever remember it working before...?]

[Just on the corner of the main street and an offshoot is Storybrooke's Ice Cream Parlor. It's not like your usual ice cream shops; the ice cream is all made by hand in churns like long ago, and the flavours are limited to the classics or fruit sorbets. There's an upside, though--this shop serves the best ice cream in Maine. No one's quite sure how the proprietor manages to get his ice cream that perfect state of creaminess given his more archaic methods, but he does.

[And he's there almost constantly, making more ice cream and refilling the tins, preparing for outside orders and birthday parties moving around with a calmness that belies how busy the shop can get. Often he churns his desserts just over the counter, where it can be seen; it's something of a favoured hangout for some of the younger children, who enjoy watching the process.

[Right now he just happens to be making a cake out of ice cream for some lucky child's birthday.]

[It's after the normal lunch rush that Malcolm is sitting in his usual booth at Granny's, having a simple lunch while he takes in the diner around him. Even though he's on break, he's assessing how many ways the diner could be broken into and how he would fix it if he was allowed the chance (Granny always told him no since the diner's never been broken into and no matter how much he argues this could change in the future, she hasn't changed her stance on the subject).

He takes a sip of his drink as he notices a couple on the other side of the diner whispering to each other as they stare in his direction and try to point at him subtly and failing. Malcolm sighs, knowing that they're probably speaking about the possibility that he's Archer. If only he knew how the thief was getting past his security, he could fix it and stop them just so that his name could be cleared finally and he could return to his good standing once more.]

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.

[Ever since Emma came to town, Regina has been irritated. Her son instantly taking to her instead of his own mother. Him sneaking out of his house, without her knowledge. It's getting on her nerves.

So she takes to driving about town, stopping once in a while at a cafe or a shop while Henry is in school.]

[Mary Margaret was around, wandering about up and down the stores of Storybrooke, mostly just window shopping. No tests from the kids to immediately grade for Monday, and her volunteering stints at the hospital just didn't seem to bring the satisfaction they used to after the John Doe incident. This should be fine for her, though, shouldn't it? Relaxing, calming? She stops before a grocer's, considering some ruby red apples displayed in the window, in thought...]

[Being on the wrong side of a dungeon cell isn't something Charming is used to. At least it's a nice cell, he has to concede; it's not even underground. It is, however, on display to whomever chooses to walk into the Sheriff's office. (Those who are observant might notice his shirt has a hole in the sleeve, as if it had been cut.)

[The prince has spent most of his time alternatively pacing in the cell or up against the bars, watching those who enter with a frown. Occasionally he sleeps--sort of, anyway.]

((OOC: After this 'log' here.))

[It's the witching hour in Storybrooke, a time when all good, honest folk are fast asleep in bed.

And then there's Maggie.

Her headphones are down around her neck and the volume on her iPod is turned all the way up; the voice of Joey Ramone cuts through the otherwise silent air. Mags is dancing a sharp shuffle of a dance, all elbows at angles and quick jerks of motion. The tip of her cigarette glows bright as she takes a drag.]

[[OOC: You're not seeing things: I edited the post to be more respond-to-able. Now with bonus Character Info.]]

[Mr. Gold's been keeping to his estate for the evening instead of going out like he normally does at this time of night, his daily routine being to wander around the streets to catch somebody unlucky enough to be around for him to make a deal with. No, he's staying inside tonight for important reasons and surprisingly, it had nothing to do with his current guest.

He had been keeping an eye on Chris to make sure he goes through with the theft of a dagger from Regina and he knew tonight would be the night that he would go and do the deed. So he was staying inside tonight, sitting in the parlour and listening to music softly play in the background as he closed his eyes and waited for Chris to show up, knowing that it would be any time now.]

[He can't move. He can't even open his eyes. He can hear things, though, and feel the bed under him; ever since he'd heard Snow's voice reading him a story, he could hear the things around him. The witch, Emma's birth, the attack on the castle ... had it all been a dream?

[All he can do is sleep, listen, wait and hope desperately someone will take pity on the poor man who can't even open his eyes--just enough to speak to him for a while.]

[ There isn't much to do when you're stuck in the clink. Nothing interesting, anyway, especially when the guy in the other cell is as grumpy as he is. Sheriff Graham has stepped away for a moment and now Chris is left to expertly toss a deck of cards into Graham's forgotten hat, one card at a time. Not a single one is missed.

Someone comes in and he glances up, points to the hat. ]

Hey, pass me that, would you?

[ ooc; more information in his profile! ]