Original story time.
Jun. 27th, 2009 12:17 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
indiana_jWell, a snippet. I'm trying to work on a short story that involves fairy tales - basically, modern day infused with the characters from the stories. And multiples - those that follow the Snow White and Rose Red paths, for example, are all descendants from the House of White, the original Snow White and Rose Red. All the fairy tales have a path and because it's tradition, most of the magical folks tend to follow that path. But there's a growing group of people who buck the trend - like this Rose "Red", who lives off the grid entirely, and who's "Snow White" 'older sister' had the bad luck of being born a guy who's determined to find his own prince charming. ;)
Plot is basically there's a group that intends to force the leaders of the various Houses to blacklist those that don't follow tradition (like the Sleeping Beauty 'cousin' who runs a flower shop - under stress, she tends to fall asleep so she takes a lot of weed ;) ). Here's a snippet - Rose meets Jack Frost.
Rose rounded a corner and couldn't quite stopper the cry of disappointment when she found herself face to face with a dead end. The bricked wall of the building rose several stories up and the alley she'd run down had no other exits, no other doors or windows. And the footsteps behind her weren't slowing.
She spun around and thought about making a run for it but knew pretty immediately that running was out of the question - it would be four against one and running had been her only option. With that taken out, Rose was seeing no other way out. Standing her ground sounded good in theory but in actuality, she knew it was going to hurt like hell.
The hand that clenched around her upper made her scream, especially since it had come from behind her, where there'd been no one before. No door to come through and no one there. Though, Rose thought as she tried to turn and yank free, that didn't mean much in the Fringe.
But she couldn't break free and panic welled up because where the hand clenched around her arm, a bone numbing cold was slowly spreading even through the light jacket and shirt she wore. She found herself staring up - and <i>up</i> - at a gangly guy she'd never seen before. But she felt as if she knew him...
Though it was early fall, he was dressed as if it were the deepest part of winter and the fur of his long jacket brushed against her as he shifted, tugging Rose backwards towards a door that was now in the brick wall. His skin was blue tinged, lips white as frost and eye lashes as blue as his eyes. White hair stuck up in spikes that looked more like icicles than real hair and she could see little puffs of air escape from between his lips.
No, she'd never seen the man in person but she knew who he was. He came by every year without fail - sometimes harsh, other times mild - and one year, he'd made it snow on her birthday because she'd been sick and little and had cried in her sleep. Her birthday was in August.
"Jack Frost," Rose said, blinking.
"Adam sent me," he responded. "If you want to get away, I can take you to him."
Jack Frost could be as dangerous as he could be generous but if Adam sent him, than Rose could put her trust him in. It wasn't like she had a choice, after all. "If we're going," she said, "I vote we go now."
He nodded ad his hair didn't move an inch. "Breath shallowly as we go through and stay close. Winter is not kind to flowers of any sort." He looked concerned. "It will be difficult for you..."
It was all well and good that he was worried but Rose decided she'd take her chances with him than with the thugs chasing her. She shoved against him and sent them both through the door he had created and they tumbled through the other side. With a grunt, she landed on her knees in a snow bank but the shock of the cold drove her back to her feet.
Rose didn't know much about the passageways that dotted the kingdom; she'd heard that the Fringe was loaded with them and that sometimes in the main part of the city, they lost the odd car or two every few weeks. No two passageways were the same - some were sprawling cities within cities while others were lonely paths in a dead forest. Some were fixed while others could be molded to the travelers who stepped in through the opening.
And this one was molded by the bringer of winter.
Snow and white, that was all that Rose could see. There were no distinguishing marks or changes - just white as far as the eye could see.
And the cold, gods, the cold.
She had thought the cold from Jack's touch was awful but the cold in the passageway was indescribable. Rose tried to curl in on herself as she felt her hair freeze, the air in her lungs harden and her skin start to crack. But Jack ruthlessly yanked her back to her feet and against his chest where the fur coat fell around her.
It wasn't much better but it was something and at least he kept the wind from cutting her to shreds.
"Walk." It wasn't a request or even a plea, it was a command. And Rose followed Jack Frost's command to walk through the never ending snow, foot after stumbling foot. His encouragements were sharp words and a harsh grip but they worked.
They worked until another door opened in front of them and then she was falling, landing on hardwood floors that scorched her frozen skin. She screamed as Jack crouched above her, hands hovering above her shoulders but not touching for fear she'd shatter like ice. He was yelling and someone was yelling in return.
Adam.
And the season's least favorite son moved back and Rose felt knuckles gently brush against her cheek and then nothing. And then - the yell, the cloying sense of magic as something normal sized rippled and was replaced with something much bigger.
Gently, something large and warm curled around her and the scent of Adam's cursed form filled her senses. And then she let sleep pull her the rest of the way down.\
Don't know if that sucks or if the idea does but it amuses me.
Plot is basically there's a group that intends to force the leaders of the various Houses to blacklist those that don't follow tradition (like the Sleeping Beauty 'cousin' who runs a flower shop - under stress, she tends to fall asleep so she takes a lot of weed ;) ). Here's a snippet - Rose meets Jack Frost.
Rose rounded a corner and couldn't quite stopper the cry of disappointment when she found herself face to face with a dead end. The bricked wall of the building rose several stories up and the alley she'd run down had no other exits, no other doors or windows. And the footsteps behind her weren't slowing.
She spun around and thought about making a run for it but knew pretty immediately that running was out of the question - it would be four against one and running had been her only option. With that taken out, Rose was seeing no other way out. Standing her ground sounded good in theory but in actuality, she knew it was going to hurt like hell.
The hand that clenched around her upper made her scream, especially since it had come from behind her, where there'd been no one before. No door to come through and no one there. Though, Rose thought as she tried to turn and yank free, that didn't mean much in the Fringe.
But she couldn't break free and panic welled up because where the hand clenched around her arm, a bone numbing cold was slowly spreading even through the light jacket and shirt she wore. She found herself staring up - and <i>up</i> - at a gangly guy she'd never seen before. But she felt as if she knew him...
Though it was early fall, he was dressed as if it were the deepest part of winter and the fur of his long jacket brushed against her as he shifted, tugging Rose backwards towards a door that was now in the brick wall. His skin was blue tinged, lips white as frost and eye lashes as blue as his eyes. White hair stuck up in spikes that looked more like icicles than real hair and she could see little puffs of air escape from between his lips.
No, she'd never seen the man in person but she knew who he was. He came by every year without fail - sometimes harsh, other times mild - and one year, he'd made it snow on her birthday because she'd been sick and little and had cried in her sleep. Her birthday was in August.
"Jack Frost," Rose said, blinking.
"Adam sent me," he responded. "If you want to get away, I can take you to him."
Jack Frost could be as dangerous as he could be generous but if Adam sent him, than Rose could put her trust him in. It wasn't like she had a choice, after all. "If we're going," she said, "I vote we go now."
He nodded ad his hair didn't move an inch. "Breath shallowly as we go through and stay close. Winter is not kind to flowers of any sort." He looked concerned. "It will be difficult for you..."
It was all well and good that he was worried but Rose decided she'd take her chances with him than with the thugs chasing her. She shoved against him and sent them both through the door he had created and they tumbled through the other side. With a grunt, she landed on her knees in a snow bank but the shock of the cold drove her back to her feet.
Rose didn't know much about the passageways that dotted the kingdom; she'd heard that the Fringe was loaded with them and that sometimes in the main part of the city, they lost the odd car or two every few weeks. No two passageways were the same - some were sprawling cities within cities while others were lonely paths in a dead forest. Some were fixed while others could be molded to the travelers who stepped in through the opening.
And this one was molded by the bringer of winter.
Snow and white, that was all that Rose could see. There were no distinguishing marks or changes - just white as far as the eye could see.
And the cold, gods, the cold.
She had thought the cold from Jack's touch was awful but the cold in the passageway was indescribable. Rose tried to curl in on herself as she felt her hair freeze, the air in her lungs harden and her skin start to crack. But Jack ruthlessly yanked her back to her feet and against his chest where the fur coat fell around her.
It wasn't much better but it was something and at least he kept the wind from cutting her to shreds.
"Walk." It wasn't a request or even a plea, it was a command. And Rose followed Jack Frost's command to walk through the never ending snow, foot after stumbling foot. His encouragements were sharp words and a harsh grip but they worked.
They worked until another door opened in front of them and then she was falling, landing on hardwood floors that scorched her frozen skin. She screamed as Jack crouched above her, hands hovering above her shoulders but not touching for fear she'd shatter like ice. He was yelling and someone was yelling in return.
Adam.
And the season's least favorite son moved back and Rose felt knuckles gently brush against her cheek and then nothing. And then - the yell, the cloying sense of magic as something normal sized rippled and was replaced with something much bigger.
Gently, something large and warm curled around her and the scent of Adam's cursed form filled her senses. And then she let sleep pull her the rest of the way down.\
Don't know if that sucks or if the idea does but it amuses me.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-27 07:57 pm (UTC)