#ptrp task

[littlebear-orson]

POSTCARDS FROM FAR AWAY.

"Life itself is a wonderful fairytale...." Once Upon a December 》Task 010.

                                     Once upon a time ago…

That’s how it always goes, right? Well nevertheless, this is how this one will go. Every person has a beginning. Every person has a past. Every person has a story to them that needs to be told. So with that, that’s why we’re here. This story will unfold deep within the forest. For in the middle of the forest was a quaint little cottage where there lived a family. This one was the typical cookie cutter set that one could imagine, a father who did whatever he could to provide for his family, a mother who took care of everything within the household and wellbeing of the family, and a son who lived his days carefree and joyfully as the sun would rise and then set every day. It was just that this group was not your ordinary family --- oh, they were far from it since they were bears.

                                                        Yes. Big, furry, black bears.

However, they were no ordinary bears. They were bears that could talk. They were bears that could do anything that a human could. They ate like humans ate. They walked like humans walked. They lived in a house that in a way that humans would have it, not some dark, dank cave. However, there was a reason to why they acted this way and that was because they are human. It’s just that they are humans with the ability to shapeshift into a bear -- well, that’s was before a wicked and cruel witch laid a curse on them where they would stay as bears forever. It wasn’t their fault either --- the reasons they ended up angering her was only because they had to invade her home for shelter. An unforgiving, bitter winter night and they were nowhere close to their cottage, the young couple and their son stumbled across a what seemed like a desolate, empty place of residence. They sought after it for warmth and protection for the night until the sun was illuminated in the sky once more. It just happened to be their mistake as the hag would come entering in, only to discover her home invaded. As unforgiving and far from being understanding, it was there that they would forever be stuck in the form of bears for the rest of their lives.

And that’s all that could be said about it --- just for Orson’s end however. Not like the youngling would know it in details though, he was only a wee lad at the time. His memory of it happening was completely a massive blur since you can't remember a bunch of things when you were a kid. This was now all many years later after coping with the curse. So, there was that. This was the present as it was new morning in the woods.

                   The sun was shining. The birds were singing. The flowers were blooming.

In the kitchen filled with darling furnishings was Papa Bear and Mama Bear. Just like the typical family morning get up, the father sat at their massive wooden dining table while he casually talked with his wife. Nothing more than daily plans for the day, the mother listened well as she did her usual thing in the kitchen. Cooking away as her paws stirred a wooden spoon that went at the contents of the large pot, she tended to her concoction with motherly care. A sniff at the aroma that was filling up the air in the home, she took a taste of the porridge at hand in order to see if anything was needed. By the look of her furry face, the glisten in her eyes held a sensation of questioning wonder. For it did needed something and she figured that it was most likely salt. So her large paw soon grabbed just that and added that to the mix. Once more with the taste test, it was all better that she moved the pot over to the table along with other necessaries. Things like a small pitcher of honey and some bowls of various berries, the table was all set. It was just missing one other thing. Mama Bear knew exactly what -- or more like who that was as she called out to just that.

                                                        “Orson! Come downstairs! Breakfast is ready!”

Like any good child would, a little black bear came upon the calling of his name. From upstairs and where his bedroom resided, the door was opened with such eager energy. Soon, tiny bear footsteps were heard as Orson made his way down the stairs and sat his furry rear on his perfectly made chair. Since he was finally at the table and in the presence of his parents, he greeted his parents with such pleasantness.

                    “Morning, Papa. Morning, Mama~”

Just with any greetings especially ones from family, they both returned the favor. Exchanging of the words from both mother and father along with a tender kiss from mommy dearest, it was there that they would go on with breakfast like any other family would. Good food with people who loved you always and you would love them back, it was just that what the day held would be something that they wouldn't expect at all. For they too would get an intruder of their own, seeking comfort from their own household ---

                               -- just like they were when they needed shelter those many, many years ago.

[technicalhiro]

Origin Story || Once Upon A December

They were almost ready. Hiro had been working on them for a month straight, staying up all hours and drinking so much coffee it was a wonder his hands were still steady enough to work a screwdriver. He had presented his invention at a showcase last week, and the response he received had been overwhelmingly positive. Reporters went nuts, flooding the news with stories about what they had seen. The word was out. Hiro Hamada was developing an invention that could change the world.

He’d been throwing a few names around in his head, trying to find the perfect fit for his creations. The answer came to him as he stared at his first bin full of them. Microbots. Now, after the showcase, it seemed ‘Microbots’ was the word on everyone’s lips. People were excited for the tech in a way they hadn’t been for a long time, the air buzzing with anticipation for the invention’s release. Everyone seemed desperate to get their hands on them.

See, there was magic in the air in Fantasia Grove. There were the lucky few who could touch it, use it and bend it to do whatever they liked, but most people had no way of reaching it. All the benefits that magic could provide were completely lost to them, and sometimes they were the people who needed it the most. Well, with the Microbots, Hiro hoped that would all change.

Hiro had been thinking of the Microbots as physical representations of magic. A wizard could wave his wand at a pile of books and they’d all fly back onto the shelf. With the Microbots, you could think about moving the books and watch as the bots picked them up and tidied them away. They could build, lift, transport, create in a way that only magic could before. Granted, it had its flaws. The bots weren’t nearly as neat as actual magic, being visible and quite an ugly shade of gray. You needed to carry them around with you if you wanted to use them, along with the matching headband to control them too. Plus, there were a whole host of magical things that they simply couldn’t do. There was so much more to magic than just moving things around, but it was a start. A start that could change so many lives.

The superhero part came accidentally. The story sounds longer in Hiro’s head, more dramatic and exciting, but really it all happened very quickly a few days ago. He had noticed a bug in the Microbots’ spatial system, causing them to interlock in an uneven pattern if they weren’t immaculately clean, which lead to them falling apart when placed under stress. Normally, they could support the weight of an elephant – actually, way more than that –, but if they were leaving gaps when they stuck together, they couldn’t support anything. And what use would they be if you couldn’t get them dirty? It took a little while, but Hiro eventually found a way to solve the problem. The fix for it worked on a small scale in his workshop, but he needed to test it on a larger scale to be properly satisfied with it, so one afternoon he collected up as many bots as he could and took them out on a test drive.

He was out on the boardwalk when it happened. He was testing how well the Microbots fared in the ocean – if they could survive salt water, they could survive anything – when a startled cry and a loud splash caught his attention. He was barely thinking as he sent the Microbots over towards the sound. He was surprised when they were so… efficient. Of course, he had been hoping for efficiency when he made them, but his plans for them were more along the lines of helping out around the home, or with production or agriculture – something to improve lives. Saving lives never really entered his mind, up until the moment when his Microbots dove down under the water and came up cradling a young girl. The bots lifted her out of the ocean and back up onto the boardwalk, over the railing she must have slipped through and into the arms of her sobbing mother.

He did that. Him and his Microbots saved that girl’s life. Hiro saw the world opening up in front of him. Sure, the Microbots could build and transport, but they could do so much more. Hiro could do so much more. As he returned home, his mind raced with possibilities. He had been designing the Microbots for mass accessibility, but maybe he could indulge in more personal creations. Inventions for him to use. He could build more tech, stuff specifically designed to help people. To help save more lives. Maybe this was his purpose. Maybe that was why he’s here. He was given this big brain, this incredible intellect and knack for inventing so that he could start giving back. He could be a real hero.

If he stayed up all night designing a kickass superhero suit, well, no one had to know.

[oceanusamare]

Once Upon A December || Atlantica

There were various Mertribes in Fantasia Grove. Atlantica just happened to be one of the larger ones. With her father given the title of the Great Sea King, many surrounding tribes saw theirs as a threat. After all, what made their King the King of the Sea? And if such a King were to exist, what stopped him from taking over the entire ocean? Needless to say, with such hostility starting to brew in the seas, Ariel and her sisters were kept under strict watch. They were not allowed to explore outside the walls of Atlantica. They had to be home by the time the moon settled in the sky. And, by no means, were they allowed to lift their heads above water.

It seemed simple enough. Atlantica was a beautiful and large city full of friendly mermaids, fun mermen, and silly fish. Their home had enough to keep his daughters entertained with their coral reef parks, scenery, and activities. Little flounders racing and seeing which can make bigger bubbles around the park. Sweetlips performing near the castle Ariel and her sister’s lived in. A marketplace to keep the girls browsing for hours! It wasn’t like the girls were kept prisoners in their home, not in the least. Their father tried to offer them what he could within reason. It just wasn’t what interested his youngest.

Ariel loved Atlantica. She loved her friends Urchin and Flounder. But she loved humans too. Their culture, their stories, their world. She wanted more than what Atlantica had to offer. As a child she would spend hours by her bedroom window, staring out beyond the city. Anytime she inquired about humans her father would grow angry or pained. Her sister’s would immediately hush her and change the subject to keep their father from having to answer. After those handful of times she tried to inquire it to him--the one man she believed knew everything--she knew it was a subject to bring around in his absence. 

For a time, she was entertained by the stories the fish had to tell her. Even Urchin who saw her interest was peaked when that topic was broached, had told a fable of how he had met one. In her excitement, she believed him for a time being. With humans she was entirely naive, believing every word they had to say about them aside from all of them having such a cruel nature. How could a world that makes such wonderful things be bad? 

It wasn’t until she walked past a rickety store that she thought to explore further into humans herself. Ariel was eleven when she entered the aged, elusive ‘Ocean’s Melody.’ The door took quite a bit of strength to yank open seemingly stuck to the...wood. That wasn’t something she saw often. The store was in a complete disarray; walls were covered in different aquatic mosses. She had to hover over the sea floor in order to get further into the store! Every spot seemed to be covered by objects she had never seen before! Yes, there would be the occasional shell necklace or a woodwind instrument but most were what she could deduce as...land objects!

She had seen few of these in other stores, and even a couple in her house from the time her father did like buying things that came from the land. However, nothing to this degree! Young Ariel wandered around the store, analyzing the objects that seemed they haven’t been moved for ages. The store was empty, dark, and with each turn she wandered if this was some sort of trap. Quietly swimming, she whispered a hello, not sure whether she wanted to be heard or not. This store was at the very far end of Atlantica and if they were to know she was King Triton’s daughter, she may as well kiss this store goodbye. No one wanted to get into trouble with him and a store filled with human artifacts was certainly treading on that.

As more time went by she grew more bold exploring the store. Filled with glee, she would twirl around and run her fingers through the surface of each object. By accident she had hit a string of some oddly shaped thing and the string had flung up from the vibrations. A gasp left her lips and she moved back. Her earlier glee melted into apprehension and curiosity. Slowly approaching the object once more, Ariel reached out to touch it.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” An old grouse voice spoke revealing himself from another room. 

Ariel immediately swam back, clutching her hands together and looking at the old, large fish. Her frown pleaded for forgiveness but her stance was ready to run away if need be. “I’m sorry--I didn’t mean to intrude. I-I thought I could browse around and--”

The old fish stopped her then with a raise of his fin and stayed in his place to show he meant no harm. “It is a store--a mess of one but a store nonetheless. You are free to look around, though touching may cause some consequences.” Looking at that stringed object, he directed his explanation to it. “That ancient thing almost cut my fin off the first time I touched it! Some instruments are just not meant to be played underwater.”

“An instrument?” Ariel asked. Always being a lover of music, it was interesting to hear that they too dabbled in the art. What sort, she wondered. Was it different than down here? Surely. 

“A geetar to be exact.” The wise fish told her, moving towards it to explain it better. “On land humans stroke these strings and sing about a sailor’s life. Horrid, sad songs when you listen to the words. Though, they sing it with such gale. Odd things those humans.”

Ariel had let down her guard almost completely trying to imagine it. Human’s singing! Playing music, laughing, it was just like here! Alright, maybe that wasn’t a surprise to anyone else but most things she’s heard that they do are horrific! It was such a different and new insight, she couldn’t contain her awe. “You’ve seen them? Do they have more instruments?”

The old fish laughed, a tired, old smile rested on his face. “Most instruments of ours came from them. They created music, we adopted it.” 

Ariel looked at him in shock for a moment before her face turned into complete disbelief. Their instruments? No one had ever told her such a thing. She had simply assumed that they created them. Aside from that, they have been playing music for an incredibly long time--it didn’t seem possible.

The old fish knew she didn’t quite believe this. It didn’t bother him, of course. She must have grown up thinking almost everything from Atlantica was made by mermen. “Your father holds a lot of resentment towards humans. But he never could fully turn away from music.”

There was a time he was pained by hearing music. Two years without any song being sung in the concert hall. She always correlated it with her mother’s death seeing as she had the most wonderful voice and would constantly sing songs to them. But perhaps there was something more to it. A sailor’s song. Roused out of her thoughts from alarm, Ariel blinked and looked bashfully at the fish. “My father? How do you know that?”

His smile was turned into one touched by sadness. “Your father and I are old friends from a happier time. I’m not surprised you don’t remember me. You were but a guppy then.”

Confusion rot her mind, she wanted to know more than that but it seemed that he would not tell her more. She had an aching feeling that if she asked further, he would tell her she must go back to her father so to prevent that she changed the subject. “Where do you get these things from?”

Knowing all to well that this curious mermaid may get herself into trouble if she knew the answer, he quipped a vague one. “Here and there. Now, it’s getting late. Your father will start looking for you if you don’t go back to him.”

Oh, fantastic! She thought she was being clever with her questions but it seemed that any question she would’ve asked would’ve had her sent home! With an obedient nod of agreement, Ariel hurried back to the castle. However, that was not the only time she had sneaked past her guards and visited the old fish. It took quite a few visits before he told her where his collection came from.

The Ship Graveyard. Now, she didn’t know the location of that, but the very name was chilling. She wanted to see it for herself. She wanted to start a collection of her own. 

Hours were spent staring out the window beyond Atlantica’s borders. One of these days, she swore it, she would find the Ship Graveyard.

Within a year, Ariel finally found it. An eerie, depressing, murky place. A place that did look like all ships came to rot. There were far too many to count and too big to explore in one go. With a little red sack in her hand, Ariel did a very quick search to add the first collection she got on her own into her growing grotto. 

[maristhompsons]

I’ll Think of a Mermaid Lagoon | Self

Peter hadn’t come by to visit since that girl had visited Neverland.

Maris woefully stared up at the night sky, desperate to see her friend fly through the clouds with Tinkerbell’s tiny, illuminated form darting around at his side. She desperately missed Peter. Hell, at this point she even missed Tinkerbell. The pair had never gone this long without visiting the mermaids before. It had to be because of that stupid girl Peter had brought by. That Wendy Bird had ruined nearly everything with her visit to the island. That brat had caused Peter and Tinkerbell to fight to the point of Tink being banished, something Maris had previously never thought possible. Now it seems that bitch had ruined Peter’s friendship with the mermaids as well. It broke her heart that Peter would choose some ugly human over his loyal mermaids. What was so special about that girl anyways? Her dress had been drab, her voice shrill, and had no sense of humor to speak of. That prissy little thing had gotten so upset at Maris and her friends for trying to drown her, she couldn’t possibly have been good company to keep around. Could Peter really be mad at the girls for their actions? It had all been in good fun. Hell, he had even laughed along with them when it happened before he had taken the Wendy-Bird with him to go save Tigerlily or something. So why hadn’t he returned? Maris scowled at the moon that was not quite yet full, angry at it for making her wait to be able to do something about this nonsense.

In Neverland, the moon was the source of everyone’s magic. When the moon was ripe and full, the magical creatures of the land were able to do as they pleased without fear of being killed by the pirates or Indians. The moon heightened their powers, making them all invincible for a few hours. No pirate could escape a bloody death from fully formed fey if they were stupid enough to venture into the woods. There was no hiding on those nights; the only ones who had anything to fear were Hook’s crew. The mermaids preferred to use their powers to bring a stray sailor to a watery death or grow legs in order to go off and explore the island in peace. In a few days time, Maris would become part of the latter. She planned to go off on her own to demand her answers from Peter but her patience was wearing thin. She wanted to talk to him now; it wasn’t fair of Peter, or the moon, to make her wait like this!

The more she thought about it, the angrier Maris got. She began to absentmindedly thump her tail against Marooner’s Rock as she racked her brain for the right things to say when she would finally confront Peter. She wanted to be mean, she wanted her words to sting the way his absence had stung her. Not realizing how loud she was being, Maris nearly jumped out of her skin when someone tapped her on the shoulder. “Genevieve!” Maris complained, pouting as her friend began to chuckle, “You scared me!” On her other side, Maris suddenly felt a hard pinch on her waist. “Ow! Adrianne!” She glared at the other mermaid who only smirked back in reply before diving back into the water, effectively drenching the redhead. “That’s what you get for being the noisiest mermaid in existence,” Genevieve dryly replied, stretching before lying back on the rock to gaze up at the stars. Adrianne soon resurfaced, climbing back on to Marooner’s Rock with a mischievous grin. Maris stuck her tongue out at Adrianne who easily reciprocated as she sat next to her friend. “So what has your tail in a twist?” The brunette asked, bright green eyes looking over at her curiously. “Peter,” Maris spat, the scowl on her face deepening. To her surprise, Adrianne rolled her eyes in annoyance at the source of her troubles. “This again? Darling, you have to get over this. It is not a big deal.” Adrianne laughed, only upsetting Maris further.

”Not a big deal? He’s abandoned us! For that stupid, human!” Maris exclaimed. “Um... guys?” Genevieve asked from behind them but Adrianne shushed her. “Of course he did. Peter’s a boy, Maris. He likes new and shiny things,” Adrianne replied in a bored tone.

“She’s not even shiny,” Maris grumbled, “Her face is stupid, her dress is stupid. Everything about her is stupid.”

“Guys?”

”True but you know how flighty Peter can be; he adores us but he’s easily distracted. Once the sheen wears off, Wendy-Bird will be out of our lives for good and things can go back to normal.”

“You really think so?” Maris asked, a glimmer of hope in her voice. “Of course; everything will be fine!” Adrianne assured her friend, giving her a small, sincere smile.

”Maris! Adrianne! For the love of Elune will you turn around?!” Genevieve exclaimed, causing both girls to jump and look back at her. Fear was evident on their friend’s face and Maris quickly turned her eyes towards the sky, mouth dropping open in shock as Adrianne screamed in fear besides her.

Hook’s ship was flying.

It was heading straight for Mermaid Lagoon; their panicked shouts awoke their sisters who had surfaced to see what was going on. A panicked chaos soon ensued with most of them diving underneath the water to avoid whatever hell Hook and his crew were about to bring down on them. Maris, Genevieve, and Adrianne held onto each other tight; they were too scared to move from Marooner’s Rock. As the ship got closer to them, Maris noticed a tiny ball of light flitting about the now-golden sails. “Wait...” Maris murmured, leaning up to get a better glimpse of the ship. “Isn’t that-”

“COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!”

A familiar cry came from the ship causing Maris’ face to break out into a grin. “It’s Peter! Oh, Peter!” Maris called, waving frantically at the ship as it descended gently onto the waves nearby. “Peter!” The name echoed throughout the lagoon bringing back the mermaids who had fled. Soon all the mermaids were surrounding the ship, talking and laughing with the Lost Boys who were also on board. Maris dove into the water, swimming as fast as she could to see her friend. She felt like her heart was going to burst, she was so incredibly happy to see him.

“Where have you been!?” Maris exclaimed the second her head popped out of the water.  “More importantly, what the hell happened to Hook’s ship!?” Genevieve asked as she came up next to the redhead. “Did you kill him?” Adrianne asked eagerly from besides Genevieve. Peter threw back his head and gave a hearty laugh causing Maris’ heart to melt with joy. He looked so happy; no wonder he had disappeared for a few days. If Maris could leave to explore the worlds on a flying ship, she would too. All previous anger-fueled thoughts had dissipated; he was instantly forgiven in her heart.

She watched him sit cross-legged in the air, Hook’s hat sitting precariously on top of his his head and she moved in closer to the ship, knowing Peter was about to tell them an amazing tale of his most recent adventures.

“Well... it all started...”

[gamblingtheunderworld]

Once Upon a December || PTRP Task 10

A chill swept through the Underworld, gently tugging at Hades’ robes and causing the crown of blue flames to flicker and sway as he stood at the edge of the precipice. ‘Winter.’ The god inhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders back and peering down into the void. Moans from below echoed in the stone chamber, a ghastly chorus of the dead and damned swirling endlessly in that deep cavern where the Styx pooled and the current dragged them deeper into the icy waters. A wail surged up from below, and Hades sighed. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“Lord Hades!”

Sound traveled well in the Underworld. Near-constant level of ghostly screams filled every nook and cranny of his domain at all hours of the day. And yet somehow Pain’s grating voice managed to stand out above it all like a shrill bird crowing in the distance. Hades closed his eyes, rubbing the spot between them with his fingers as he shook his head. “Just ignore him, Hades. He’ll shut up once he realizes you’re not gonna answ—”

“LORD HADES!”

The flames on his head briefly sparked into an orange-yellow hue, spreading down his shoulders as he gave a growl in his throat. “Oh for the love of—” With a quick sweep of his hand, Hades disappeared from the precipice in a plume of black smoke and reappeared on the shores of the Styx where he’d told Pain and Panic to go up to the surface to help Charon with ushering souls into his boat. When he arrived near the steps leading to the surface, he watched with a narrowed gaze as Pain and Panic came barreling down, eventually tripping over themselves before landing face-first onto the hard stone at his feet. Swooping down, Hades grabbed Pain by his tail, and hoisted him into the air, glaring at him, yellow-gold flames emphasizing his words. “What, Pain? What, in Hera’s name, is sooo important that you need to screech my name from across the Underworld like you’re a godDAMN HARPY?!” They knew better than to make him come so close to the entrance of the Underworld this time of the year. He could feel the breeze from the surface, after all. And all that did was remind him that it was winter already.

Pain cringed in fear, panting for breath as he dangled there in front of Hades. He could barely push words out, his little hands flailing around as he tried to get his point across. “Someone...entrance...king!” “Oh gods,” Hades groaned, dropping the imp unceremoniously onto the floor before pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. “Panic, please decipher this idiot’s sentence for me.” Shivering as he helped Pain to his feet, Panic nodded furiously. “Y-Yes my lord! W-We went up to the surface to ch-check if there were more souls there waiting, and...and...we saw more. Well, no, not souls, but mortals. People. We saw them and—” “Is there a point to this story?” the god interrupted, shooting a look at Panic over his hand. “There’s a...a man, a king, at the entrance of the Underworld, Lord Hades,” Pain finally managed to spit out, hunched over as Panic took cover behind him. Hades gave both of them an irritated look, scowling. “And, what? He needs someone to hold his hand on the way down to meet Charon?” He could hear the low, watery chuckling of Charon a few yards away, pushing his boat away from the shore and guiding the next batch of souls into the depths of the Underworld. “I don’t understand what the problem is, boys. I mean, it’s not like we don’t have kings floatin’ around the Styx as it is—”

Panic shook his head once he poked it up above Pain’s shoulder. “N-No, my lord. H-He says...um...he says he h-has need of your...erm...p-protection—” “He says he has something for you!” Pain blurted over the other imp, only to shrink back in case Hades got upset at him raising his voice. Instead, however, the god looked entirely annoyed by this revelation and gave a ragged sigh. “Can’t you guys just, I dunno, turn into a manticore and scare him off? I don’t have time for this. I’m...I’m busy.” Pain and Panic exchanged glances; they knew what that meant this time of year, but the man at the surface had been adamant. Pain swallowed hard, building up just enough courage to offer a soft, “But he said its important.” Instantly the flames on Hades’ head shot up in a golden flare as he bent down to their level. “I DON’T CARE!!” Pain practically scrambled on top of Panic’s head while the other was trying to do the same to him, and the two fell back in a knot of flailing limbs and tails as Hades straightened up again and his coloring returned to normal. “My guess is his majesty up there wants to offer some gold in order to buy himself maybe a couple more years on the surface. Or maybe he wants to get a nice palace in Elysium. I don’t know. I don’t care. I don’t want to deal with him right now.”

Hades was just about to snap his fingers and return to his precipice when Panic somehow managed to squeak out one last thing from behind the stone he was taking cover from. “It’s not gold!” He crouched down lower as Hades snapped his head around to look at him. “I-I-It’s a p-person.” The god’s expression fell slowly as he realized just what the boys were trying to imply. Once everything clicked into place, the god let his head fall back and gave a loud, “Fuck!” Returning his attention to his imps, he spoke to them (but mostly aloud to himself) as he dusted off his chiton. “Like I don’t have enough dead bastards around here clogging up my river. I’m not about to add human sacrifice victims to my growing list.” He crouched down and grabbed Pain and Panic by the scruff of their necks, glaring at them. “Show me where they are,” he murmured, and the three melted into a dark wisp of smoke.

The wind howled unpleasantly outside the gaping maw of the cave causing the melted-down candles to dance in the breeze it created, casting wild shadows on the wall of the cave. Two armed guards stood near the entrance with torches held aloft, which at this point had started to grow dim as the night wore on. King Creon paced the rocky floor, passing a hand over his lips and shaking his head at his own thoughts. Seated on a large boulder covered in the wax of many burnt-out candles, Megara sat in her cloak, protected from the cold and the prying eyes of anyone who’d seen them leaving the palace that night. She watched her father move restlessly back and forth, noted the fear in his eyes, the worry. Creon eventually stopped, his back to his daughter, as a heavy sigh escaped him. He sounded so tired, so disappointed that his prayers had not been heard. He’d been at it for hours now, and still nothing. “I don’t think he’s coming.” He hesitated before turning back to his daughter, defeat clear on his face. The god of the Underworld clearly had better things to do than to hear the pleas of a mortal. He should have known it wouldn’t work. “We may have to come back another night. But at this point I can’t even be sure he hears us.”

“Oh ye of little faith.” The king, his guards, and Megara all turned their attention to the mouth of the cave where, out of the shadows materialized a hulking and dark figure. “Hey boys.” Fire suddenly sprang from his head and the guards stumbled back and dropped their torches before drawing their trembling swords at the figure. “Whoa, whoa...listen, I really don’t feel comfortable with people pointing shit at me, so just—” the figure grabbed the ends of the swords, which instantly glowed red-hot and caused the guards to yelp in pan before releasing their weapons as they burned their hands. “There we go.”

As the guards continued to backpedal towards their king, Creon could only stare in wide-eyed awe at the figure now lit by the candles glowing around him. “L-Lord Hades,” he breathed. “Yeah, hi, how ya doin?” The god gave a toothy smile, only for it to crinkle into a sneer when the king dropped to the floor. The guards followed suit, as did Megara once her father gave her a side-long glance from his position. “Huh,” Hades grunted, only to look down at Pain and Panic as they clung to his robes from behind. “How come you assholes don’t bow like that for me anymore?” “Lord Hades, please. Please have mercy on us,” Creon murmured, drawing the god’s attention back to him. “We have come a long way, and w-we did not know if you would hear our prayers.” “Uh-huh. Sorry about that. Things get a little noisy down there. What with all the wailing and screams of the damned.” The god moved past them, making his way over to the opening that led down into the depths of the earth. He made sure to get between the mortals and that entrance, not wanting any of them to get any funny ideas about trying to get in there. When he realized that they were still bowing, the god rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright, you can get up now. Sheesh.” He gave a flick of his fingers, drawing a heavy stone towards him only to sit down atop of it as the men and cloaked figure all rose to their feet and turned to face him. “So, to whom do I have the great pleasure of speaking to?”

Creon stepped forward, bowing his head. “King Creon of Thebes, my lord.” Hades, however, was busily plucking at the threads on his chiton, not even bothering to look up at the man. “Thebes. Nice place.” After a few moments, he laced his fingers together and sat them on his lap, now meeting the mortal’s gaze with a sarcastic smile. “So, I hear you have a little present for me, huh?” Nodding, Creon gestured for Meg to come closer, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Uh...yes. I...” he hesitated, looking towards his daughter one last time before turning to the god. “I present to you my—”

“Stop.” Hades held up his hand, with startled the king and caused him to halt mid-sentence. Leaning back on his stone seat, Hades propped himself up with an elbow and gave the king a bored expression. “A couple things, your highness. One, I don’t like visitors to my temple. Which, let’s be honest,” he spread his hands out, gesturing to the damp environment around them, “it’s just a big fucking cave with some candles in it.” Definitely not like Zeus’s fancy marble temple filled with incense and who knows what other nice things. “Two, I like it even less when visitors bring me shitty offerings. Three, human sacrifices make for shitty offerings. I mean, it’s great in theory, but it just really messes up the flow of the Underworld, y’know?” He watched the king frown, opening his mouth to protest, but interjected before he could. “‘Cause now I got this dead guy hanging around, and I gotta tell him that he died in vain because I don’t accept bribes from some mortal who thinks he’s better than everyone else and deserves a nice piece of real estate once he shows up on my doorstep. So, thanks. But no thanks. Keep your shitty offering.” Hades raised his hand once again to twist it in the air, ready to vanish, when the King suddenly surged forward.

“My lord, wait, please! It’s not a sacrifice!” Hades gave him a bland look, and the king shied backwards. “Well...in a way it is. It...It’s my daughter, Megara.” Creon turned to the cloaked figure, nodding, before looking at Hades once again. He could see Megara beside him carefully removing the shroud that covered all but her eyes. He watched Hades’ expression falter, and a frown start to crease his brow as he sat upright on his rock. Once Megara had removed the bland cloak and handed it to the guards, all that was left was her black chiton, dyed in an attempt to appease the lord of the Underworld, along with the heavy golden jewelry that hung around her neck and dripped off of her wrists and ears. Creon brought his daughter close to his side once again, an arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders as he stared at Hades’ slack-jawed face. “If it would please you, Lord Hades, I...I would like for you to take her as a bride.”

That got an instant reaction from the god. He slipped right off of the stone to his feet and waved his hands in the air. “Whooooa-ho-ho. Time out. Bride? Ha, no, I-I think you got me mixed up with another god. You’re probably looking for Zeus, he’s the one with all the wives. I don’t...I don’t have a place for a bride in the Underworld.” Not after the fiasco with the last one. No. The Underworld was his domain. Alone. Creon seemed to blanch at his words. “No, not Zeus.” He watched as Hades narrowed his gaze at him, swallowing past the knot in his throat. “We know the tales. Lords Zeus and Poseidon...they are...” he trailed off, but Hades knew where he would have gone with that thought. Zeus and Poseidon weren’t exactly husband material. The king shook his head. “I can’t leave my only daughter with them. I’d never forgive myself if something were to happen to her.”  Hades grimaced, still very much displeased with the reason why they were all here. He would rather it have been human sacrifice at this point. His gaze wandered back to Meg, who was staring at him. Funny, she didn’t seem afraid. “We were told by a prophet that she would die at the hands of the man she loved,” Creon continued, bringing the god’s attention back to him. “I feel that would only be more likely if she were to be given to one of your brothers.” That was met with a slight, half-hearted shrug and nod from Hades. He wouldn’t deny that that was probably true. “But you, my lord...I can’t imagine you would kill her. Otherwise her soul would be torturing you from the depths of the Styx for all eternity.”

The god sighed, folding his arms over his chest as he felt Pain and Panic peering around him. “Yeah. That would be kind of a bummer.” His focus returned to Megara, studying her closely. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit she was beautiful. Why anyone would want to kill someone like her was unthinkable. But Hades knew better than to doubt words of prophecy; if they were told she would be killed, then that was that. He took a few steps towards Meg, wanting to see if she’s shy away like the others. She didn’t. “So what’s the catch here?” he finally uttered, looking towards the king.

Creon seemed perplexed. “Catch?” “Yeah. Like, what,” he gestured to her dress, “is she half goat under that tunic or something? Did Zeus put you up to this?” The king and his daughter exchanged looks before he shook his head. “No, no, nothing of the sort. All I ask of you is to protect her. I know that the Underworld is no place for mortals, so her true love cannot travel there to harm her. She will be safe with you, and that is all I can hope for.” Hades clicked his tongue against his teeth, the vicious points gleaming in the candlelight. Turning back to Meg, he addressed her directly. “What about you, Princess?” His lips curled into wry, cruel smile. “You okay with daddy signing your soul over to the king of the Underworld.” Megara didn’t seem to bat an eye, though her voice did waver slightly. “It’s better than dying at the hands of a man who said that he loved me.” Hades pulled an impressed face, forking his thumb at the girl as he looked at the king. “Pretty and profound.” Creon apparently didn’t see the humor as he failed to laugh, and Hades’ smile wilted as well. So this was serious. Fine, he could play serious for a while. He mulled over the man’s request, all the while keeping Meg in his sights. Would it really be so bad to accept? He’d have a pretty girl around and some company that seemed more intelligent than what he was currently stuck with. The cons? Another marriage under his belt that was clearly not meant to last. Still, at this point, he didn’t want the king going to his younger brothers for help; gods only know what Zeus would do if he got a look at this girl and decided he wanted her for himself. Hades may have been the king of the underworld, the most reviled of his siblings, and the least-appreciated god in the cosmos...but he had some compassion. He couldn’t just let the girl die. Then he’d really be stuck with her nagging him for eternity about how he could have saved her with this deal. “Well, your highness, I guess you caught me in a rare good mood. I’ll take your deal.” A look of relief seemed to wash over the king, though it seemed mixed with fear. Not that he blamed the mortal; giving your only daughter to the god known for hanging around dead people for eternity wasn’t really a step-up in life. But at least she’d be alive. Oh the irony. Hades flexed his fingers before holding out his hand for the king to accept to seal this deal. But before Creon could, Hades pulled his hand out of the way, furrowing his brows at the man. “IF you promise to never speak of this to anyone who is not already privy to the information.” Creon arched his brow in confusion before Hades gave him a less menacing look. “See, I can’t have a bunch of mortals coming around, offering me wives ‘n shit. I’m a busy god.”

That seemed to ease the king’s mind once more as he nodded in agreement. “You have my word.” Hades smirked, holding his hand out again before taking hold of the king’s. A flash of light seemed to erupt from their hands, temporarily blinding the king, his guards, and the young woman after being in such a dark cave for so long. After the deal had been struck, Creon pulled his hand back and studied it in the dim light; a mark was burned into the flesh of his palm. Painless, but it looked as if it had been scarred into his skin. The mark of Hades. The mark of a deal with the king of the Underworld. Hades folded his arms again, waiting until the king and the others looked at him. Raising his brows expectantly, he gestured at them with a flick of his wrists. “Go on. Say your goodbyes and then skedaddle.”

The god didn’t bother watching them say goodbye. He didn’t want to deal with the tears and the hugs and all of that sentimental nonsense. Megara promised that she’d see her father again someday, and Hades snorted in the background. ‘Does no one understand the rules of the Underworld?’ Well she’d learn sooner or later, and by then it would be too late anyways. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the king gathered up his guards, his daughter’s cloak, and pressed one last kiss to her forehead before they walked out of the cave’s entrance. Hades sighed, turning towards his new ‘bride’ and saw that she was staring at him. There were tears still in her eyes and wetting her cheeks, but other than that there was no emotion on her features. Well, there was a little bit of what looked like anger, which made the god scoff again. “What?” “Nothing,” she spat. “Good, that’s what I like to hear.” He walked up to her and took her by the upper arm. Despite his god-like strength, his hold was still gentle albeit a bit cold. He could see goosebumps prickle up on her skin from the touch of his icy fingers. Without another word, he gave a flick of his wrist and inky smoke consumed them. Pain and Panic still clung to his robes, but when they reappeared in the palace of the Underworld, the two imps tumbled forward and scrambled to untangle their tails from one another. Hades, on the other hand, released Meg and took a few steps back from the girl. “There we go! Home sweet home. And now that we’re all settled, Pain, Panic, say hi to your new mommy.” Meg frowned again, only to gasp when she saw the imps appearing by her feet. Her expression turned to disgust before shooting a look at Hades. The god merely smiled at her. “I know. They’re hideous. Pers used to say they took after me, but I don’t see the resemblance, honestly.” He snapped his fingers, brows lifting up slightly. “Oh, and speaking of her,” another smooth gesture of his hand formed a ring of smoke, which materialized into a solid gold wreath crown that he gently held between his fingers. The crown was made up of hammered leaves and petals of gold that formed flower-like structures. Garnets embedded in the center of each flower provided a rich, deep red color that reflected what little light there was in the Underworld. Walking over to Meg, the god unceremoniously plopped the crown atop her head and gave a soft hum in his throat. “Well would you look at that? It fits.”

Meg still frowned, but her hand gently reached up to touch the flowering gold wreath on her head. Her mind wandered back to his earlier words, only then putting the pieces together in her head. “Pers...Persephone?” She watched the god’s wry smile fall again, his black eyes hardening upon hearing the name. “You mean she’s not still down here?” The god’s gaze narrowed. He didn’t reply, but it was clear by the look he wore that this wasn’t a topic he wanted to broach right off the bat. They’d only been together all of a minute and already she was prying into his life. But just as Hades turned away, ready to make his way over to his throne, Meg took a few steps after him while fussing with the crown so that it didn’t slip off her head. “But it’s winter, and the only reason winter comes around is because Demeter—”

Hades spun around on his heels, his body exploding in yellow-orange flames. “I know the story!” He watched Meg’s eyes go wide in surprise as she jerked backwards, and Hades gave a snarl in his throat as the flames fizzled back down into their typical blue color. “I know the story. I am the story. You don’t have to tell me. I know.” The two stood there for a moment, staring at each other. Hades was doing this woman a favor by keeping her alive. The least she could do is not inject herself in his personal business. The god frowned, glancing down quickly when he saw movement, only to snarl, “Pain!” when he saw the imp getting a little too curious about what might be under the girl’s dress as Panic was busy studying the material beside him. Pain quickly stood at attention, as did Panic, and Hades pressed his fingers together as he sneered at them. “Boys, show the nice lady to her room.” Megara, who had tried to kick Pain away once she realized what he was doing, scowled at Hades again. “Wait, my room? Don’t you mean our room?” “No, I mean your room. My room is the big one with all the skulls and pointy rocks and yours is gonna be the one filled with nice furs and frilly, girly bullshit.” Hades took a few steps closer to her, placing his face in her. “Listen, Meg. Can I call you Meg? Your dad and I made a deal.” He prodded her with his finger against her sternum, not caring if she winced at his touch. “You’re my wife now, Princess. But don’t think that means anything is happening between you and me. I’m not going down that road again, got it?” The young woman said nothing, the crown shifting and tilting down lopsidedly on her head as they stood there. Hades offered her another cold smile and reached up to fix the crown, much to her chagrin. “Good.” With that, he nodded at his imps, who took Meg by the hem of her dress and began to tug her towards the throne-room doors. Meg tried to protest, but Hades only spoke over her, waving goodbye as she was pulled out of his sight. “Goodnight, dearest darling of mine! Sleep tight! Don’t let the shades bite!”

The doors closed behind Pain, Panic, and Meg with a heavy thud. The moment they did, Hades closed his eyes and his smile fell from his lips. The god shuffled over to his throne, a gnarled mess of pointed rocks and cooled molten stone that had been formed into a vaguely seat-shaped mass. Sighing Hades propped his head up on his hand, scrubbing his features with his fingertips as he let his decision sink in. He’d taken on another wife. Only this time, she had every reason to stay with him. Still, it was painfully obvious that neither of them wanted this, which was just another added stress to his life. A groan slipped from his lips as he shook his head, only able to utter a soft, “Fuck me,” as he began to doubt the terms of this deal.

[eleanoire-york-blog]

Once Upon a December |task pt.2|

A few days after the encounter with the witch was when Eleanor’s life changed. And not for the better.

She was at home, in bed with a fever. Sicker than she had ever been. A doctor had come by, but he didn’t know why she was sick. Mother hoped it was just a cold, Eleanor knew it was something more. Something worse. Something more sinister. 

She didn’t tell anyone about her meeting in the woods. She had gotten a quick lashing from mother for being out so late. But that was all. And she had hoped it was the end of it. Of course, it was not.

Her sickness just got worse. She couldn’t handle the sweating. And the pain. The horrible tearing pain just below her ribs that was making her entire lower body ache and twist in muscle spasms. She wanted it to go away. She couldn’t handle it.

It was night. The witching hour had come again. Mother was out, trying to find a potion to cure Eleanor’s illness. No. Eleanor was the only one who could fix this. 

Mustering all the strength she had in her tiny body, Eleanor ventured out into the field. Her hand shook as she carried the witch’s lantern. Not out of fear, but in sheer pain. Her legs had never hurt so much in her entire life. Not even when she fell out of a tree. 

Eleanor rested against the rock she had climbed on just a few nights ago. 

“I have your lantern!” she cried out into the night. “Take it back! You can have my ribbon too. I don’t care, just take the pain away!” Eleanor waited, but there wasn’t a response. She cried, screaming out for the witch to make the pain stop. Suddenly, there was a sharp laugh.

“Silly, stubborn girl,” the witch hobbled up to her. She snatched the lantern and the ribbon from Eleanor’s hands. “The pain will go away soon. But you will always feel it.” She laughed again, putting out the lantern and disappearing into the dark.

A local man found Eleanor in the field the next day, crying and shaking. He carried her back to the village, and told Mother where he had found her. Mother wasn’t angry this time, just scared for her little girl.

Eleanor slowly started to feel better, but the pain in her legs wouldn’t go away. She at least was beginning to function again. She was able to pick flowers and play in the market like she usually did. Everything was good again for a few weeks; Eleanor had almost forgotten entirely about the witch. Until her twelfth birthday.

Her birthday had been just another day, aside from a small pastry and present from Mother. Eleanor picked flowers, watched the birds, and played in the market. When she got home, there was a note from her mother on top of a small package. The note read, “Dearest Eleanor, I’m terribly sorry, but I had to travel out to get more fabrics. I love you so much, and happy birthday. Make a good wish.”

Eleanor found a candle and lit it, holding it next to the pastry Mother had left on a plate. She thought of a good wish. I wish the pain would finally go away, and she blew out the candle. She waited a moment, but her wish hadn’t come true yet. That was okay, Eleanor just wished it did soon.

The present from mother was a book. Eleanor read the first few chapters before going to bed that night. As she slept, she noticed the pain fade from her legs. Everything was going to be good now, she told herself. Everything was better.

If only that had been true.

[eleanoire-york-blog]

Once Upon a December |task pt.1|

Eleanor didn’t know what she thought about anything. She didn’t have many--if any--friends. She was somewhat of a recluse, living in a shack in the middle of a field. The field was surrounded by acres of dense forest. She liked the quiet of it all. Well, now she did.

When she was a little girl, Eleanor lived in a village in the woods. She would come out to the field of wildflowers to play. She would run around and pick flowers to sell in the market. She was happy. Everyone in the village loved Little Ellie, a sweet little seamstress’s daughter. She was always smiling. But, she was a child. And children have tendencies to be greedy.

There was a day, Eleanor was only eleven. She was laying out in the field in her favorite yellow dress, her hair curled with a single pink bow atop her head. She watched the clouds pass, calling out the shapes she could see in the fluff. Soon, she drifted off to sleep. Not for long, but long enough for it to be almost dark when she woke up.

Her little heart dropped, filled with terror as she sat up, searching the dark field for someplace to go. She could barely see past the tree line, the forest so thick. Eleanor ran to a large rock and climbed atop it, scanning the field. Suddenly, she saw an old woman walking through the flowers, a lantern in her hand. Eleanor ran to her. She collapsed against the old lady’s hips, embracing who she thought to be her savior.

“Can I please borrow your lantern?” Eleanor rushed. The old woman lifted it, and Eleanor could see her face. She looked to be hundreds of years old, with matted and wiry grey hair. Eleanor let go of the woman out of fear.

“What a pretty bow,” the lady touched Eleanor’s head, “A pretty, pretty, bow.”

Trying her hardest to be brave, Eleanor swallowed and then asked again, “Could I p-please, ma’am, borrow your light? I need to get home.”

“But if I give you my lantern, how will I see to get home?” the woman said. “How about a deal? You give me your pretty, pretty bow, and I will walk you to your house.”

“It’s my bow,” Eleanor said. “My mother puts it in my hair every day. I like it a lot. I don’t want to give it up.”

“But I don’t have a pretty bow for my hair,” the old woman said, “And you don’t have a light to guide you home. So it seems we both have something the other wants.”

“I don’t want the lamp, I need it,” she didn’t want the old woman to take her home. Mother wouldn’t be happy if she knew Eleanor was out past dark and talking to strangers. “You don’t need a hair bow.”

“A greedy little girl, yes?” the woman cackled. “Stubborn as a mule.”

“I just want to get home to my mother, please!” Eleanor was almost crying. “At least let me light a stick on fire to make a torch. I just want to get home.” it was even darker now. A mean boy that lived in her village told her that once the sun was down, and if you were out in the woods, that you were going to be taken by a witch and made into pie. She didn’t believe him, but that’s all she could think about now. It was the witching hour, and this woman looked like a witch.

“A stubborn, greedy, little mule,” she cackled louder. “Never to find her way home.”

In a panic, Eleanor let out a cry, shoving the woman and grabbing the lantern. She ran as fast as she could to the village, never looking back at at cackling witch.

[littlegodfreygirl-blog]

Once Upon a December | Task10

By late afternoon, long shadows were being thrown across the path. The pines reached up towards the sky, they stood a little straighter with the frost melting. Oma said that they were yawning after having slept through the long winter, stretching up to the sun. That was why the dirt would get looser in the spring, she would say. Oma always had stories like that, about the spirits that lived in the trees or the sprites that took her sewing scissors.

Scarlett didn’t really believe in sprites, at least not the kind that had nothing better to do than steal from old ladies. She knew all about magic and she was glad that, for the most part, i had managed to stay far away from her village. They had enough problems without worrying about dragons running amok or someone accidentally blasting down carts in the market place. There were a few things of course, but they were rare and it mostly just opened up opportunities for liars to sell ordinary objects while claiming them to be enchanted.

Up ahead, one of those enchanting things was twirling, stolen red cloak billowing out around her. Even though it was chilly, Scarlett felt warm when she got a glimpse of an impish smile that rarely left her companion’s face. Gretel trilled from down the path, “I’m Red, sweetheart of the village, defender of men and slayer of beasts!”

When they’d met, it had been somewhat of a spectacle with Scarlett running in, wielding her knife like it was a war sword only to skillfully end the monster that had been chasing Gretel through the woods. Somehow, blood spattered and heaving for breath had made quite the good impression. Two years later and Mother called them the two headed monster, always attached at the hip or the hand though Scarlett always preferred their attachment to be by the lips.

The same knife bummed dutifully against her hip as she strode over to close the gap between them. She reached out and took Gretel’s hands, tugging her close. “First of all, I’m not a slayer of beasts for killing a wolf or two in defending people.” She made quick work of swishing the cloak back onto her own shoulders before Gretel had a moment to process the action. “And second of all, making fun of me for being well liked only worked if people that are not me and you are around. You would be well liked if you didn’t keep snatching things that weren’t yours.”

To this, Gretel pouted and Scarlett leaned up to deliver a small kiss between her brows. Ridiculous. Even though they were a year apart in age, Scarlett still managed to act as the mature one.

“It’s going to take forever to get home at this rate and you know it. It’s already getting dark.” 

Scarlett waved an idle hand to the remark, knowing full well that they should have left earlier if they were going to get back before supper, but it was so rare that they were able to leave he village for anything that lingering in town had been inevitable.

“We’ll make it in plenty of time for there to be leftovers if your pig brother doesn’t eat them all first.”

“There’s an easier way-“

“No.”

“I know, you said that last time, but I thought that maybe this once we could just…”

“I said no. We can make it back on time without any of your short cuts.”

“Fine. Let’s just be late then. It’s on you.”

“I can live with that.”

Red threw her arm around Gretel’s shoulders, pulling up her cloak with it so that they were both under it while they set out again.