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Posted: Nov 14 2017, 01:43 PM
mirrors reflect our moods, our desires,
Ingrid was just staring at the clock.
It was bigger than she expected close up, easily dwarfing her. She hadn't realised how big it was back in Storybrooke; it had been too far away to ever really think about, just becoming part of the scenery. But she could see it now, right up close, its hands broken and still across its numbered face. She looked down, at the remnants of the tower scraped into the pavement - and the ground thrown up around it in crumbling fragments. It was like it had been driven into the ground, an open wound into the earth like a scar. Ingrid frowned and went down on her knees, hesitantly reaching out to touch it. "I don't understand," she murmured, staring at its face. She didn't know what she expected to happen - a flurry of sparks, maybe? - but it just sat there, sad old and...decaying.
She stood up, brushing some of the dust and dirt off of her dress. Storybrooke but not Storybrooke. Ingrid had gotten used to that now, as much as anyone could, but this was the first time she'd been able to look carefully at the damage. It wasn't a war, that she was certain. She wasn't even sure who it would be a war against down here, though she'd seen her fair share of villains...people she crossed the street to avoid. Maybe it was...that? "No," she muttered. It was different. She didn't know how, didn't understand how she knew. But if it was war there would be more damaged, more buildings rather than just the clock. It was almost as if it had been worn away. Not hunted down or some trophy of war but...mindless decay. Destruction. Death, though she supposed it was fitting. What wasn't, on the other hand, was the feeling she was being watched.
There was someone looking around the corner at her. In the red half-light of the Underworld it took a moment for her eyes to adjust - only to frown. There were children here? Children in the Underworld? Big wide eyes looked at her, barely blinking. Ingrid took a step forward. "Hello?" she ventured. The child's eyes narrowed warily, almost going to hide back around the corner. Uh oh. The Snow Queen knew what that meant. The foster children had been like that at first, wary and guarded and careful of adults. She knew how to read them - it didn't take much to piece together the signs. But this wasn't fear. This was something almost like terror. "It's alright," she called, stepping away from the clock, getting that bit closer. For a split second Ingrid took her eyes off the child to look around. What was the child so scared of?
There was no way the child could know Ingrid's powers, no way whatsoever, but the thought still made her distinctly sick. But as she looked around at the street she could see no one else she could be looking at. The roads were deserted, with only the rustle of curtains and the distant shut of doors to indicate anyone was here at all. It was like a ghost town, and the thought made her shiver. But if there was nothing here to be afraid of, what was the child so scared of? And what was a child doing in a place like this to begin with? She turned back, her temples furrowed with a confused frown. "There's nothing out here to - "
The child was gone. Vanished, as if she wasn't there at all. "Hello?" Where had she got to? Worry clenching at her gut the Snow Queen rushed forward, coming off the street, onto the pavement and through the buildings into one of the little streets going off the main. Thank God it's like Storybrooke. Why this was she didn't know, and at some point she'd have to find that out. The place was easier to navigate now she knew her way around. But that didn't allay the fear, the awareness that this Storybrooke wasn't safe - that no Storybrooke was safe, really, not for a child. Not when there were people like her.
"Oh!" Ingrid had rushed around a corner and suddenly collided with someone. She stepped back, her pulse thudding in her head. Her chest rose and fell as she recovered her breath. "Oh - I'm sorry - I - " A tumble of apologies came from the Snow Queen as she came away, trying not to trip on the length of her own dress. But as she looked up at who she'd bumped into she stopped. "Wait. You're not..." Not the child she'd spotted. This was someone else. Her words died in her mouth, suddenly aware this was someone dead. Someone in the Underworld. In other words, someone entirely like her.
ADD.: Evanna | WORDS: 790 | NOTES:
Wonderful graphics by Bach!
Posted: Dec 2 2017, 02:38 PM
Evanna had a routine in the Underworld, one that changed only a small bit after it was redecorated to look like Underbrooke. The redecoration had actually worked in Evanna's favour, there were now various buildings and things that had never been there before, and she found a much better large house to use to keep the children safe and sheltered. Some of the older children, the ones that were very nearly adults themselves, helped her look after the younger children. Most days she would make sure all the children in her care were fed and then she would go off on errands. Get supplies, walk around and look to see if any new children had arrived, stop around to visit a few adults she had made friends with.
She had been doing this routine for so long, at least a few centuries, though she wasn't really sure just exactly how much time had passed. It all sort of blurred together, the seasons never changed, even the day and night didn't really seem all that different from each other. Ever since she found her calling though, to help protect and care for any children that died young and with unfinished business, she hadn't really been concerned with her own unfinished business, or how much time was passing. She had yet to find any children too young, it seemed the gods weren't so cruel as to make babies and toddlers be judged on whether or not they had unfinished business. So far the youngest she had seen was more in the eight to nine age range, and even that was a bit more rare than the twelve and up.
Today was like most days, she went around on some of her errands, and when she didn't find any new kids around the forest, she decided to take a walk through the park. The weather never changed much in the Underworld, always just sort of this balmy average temperature, same season, same, same, same. Sometimes Evanna missed the seasons, missed weather patterns, the warm spring rain after a long cold winter, the first fresh snow fall after a long hot summer, it had been so long she wasn't sure she even remembered what those things felt like. Eventually she made her way back towards down and was headed down the street where the clock tower was when one of the children she watched after, Greer, ran up to her and said she'd seen a new person. Evanna told Greer to head back to the house, and that she'd go see who the new person was, but before she could get around the corner, she found herself nearly running over the woman in question.
Evanna smiled warmly as the woman composed herself from the surprise, she'd had lots of practise at this after all.
"Ah, yes you met Greer I believe, she can be a bit shy, she's one of the youngest children I've seen in all my time down here. She's headed back to the house now, I'm Evanna, I look after many of the children that find themselves here, with unfinished business."
tag Ingrid // notes: Meeting in the UW
Posted: Dec 7 2017, 12:14 PM
mirrors reflect our moods, our desires,
The Underworld was so silent and deserted that even after her shock subsided Ingrid was looking at the woman. No - staring. She hated to stare, and never did usually...well, not in the past, when she wasn't - being a villain, she thought, skipping over that part. But she was openly staring now at the sight of a dead person. This woman's dead, she found herself thinking. Dead. Actually dead. Deceased, somewhere. Bones, somewhere. The realisation that this was real came thudding into her like a ton of bricks.
And I'm dead too.
Dead. She was glad she was, of course. Glad that hopefully with her absence the Spell of Shattered Sight had met its end without anyone getting caught, that she could've stopped the madness before it had reached its deadly conclusion - and she'd have done it all again if she could. But it was still a shock to realise she'd done that, that it had all actually happened.
"Greer?" She stood there dumbly for a second until she realised that had to mean the little girl she'd seen before. She looked around but she couldn't see her anywhere - it was like she'd gone and vanished. But she looked back to the woman as she continued to speak, trying to catch up. Briefly she wondered what 'all my time' meant, but it wasn't like there was much of a chance to ask - and she was just trying to absorb it all. After a split second Ingrid realised she still hadn't said anything and this woman was probably waiting on a reply.
"Ingrid," she said after an awkward half second's delay, extending a hand. Even in the Underworld, manners and politeness still had to go - well, hand in hand. "Nice to meet you, Evanna." She smiled back at the woman's response, although there was a trace of confusion in her expression. How could she be so relaxed? They were in the Underworld. They were dead. And yet she was being spoken to as if this was all normal and the Snow Queen didn't know quite how to react to that. She'd been expecting anything other than shaking hands with a kind woman in the middle of an undead Storybrooke. She'd have almost preferred the pitchforks.
But there was one thing that was odder than even the Storybrooke around them, and she found herself compulsively asking a question, almost blurting it out as she thought aloud. "Children are down here? If you're dead, and I'm dead, then that girl..." she dropped off, trying to look past Evanna to see if she could still catch a glimpse of Greer. She couldn't, of course, but she could still remember how young she'd been. Children, dead? It was disconcerting and she couldn't help a shiver going down her spine. She paused as she went on, wondering how to phrase 'I'm newly dead'. It seemed far too stark. But as she looked to Evanna she found the words from somewhere, if only to just explain why she looked like she'd seen a ghost.
It took a moment for her to realise they were all ghosts. That was somewhat the point.
"I'm sorry. I just arrived," she managed, giving her a bit of a loaded look. It wasn't aggressive but certainly pregnant with that meaning she didn't know how otherwise to express. It was obvious, she supposed; not everyone went around looking nervous. But she still wanted to reach out and this woman seemed kind. Everything was just so confusing down here.
ADD.: Evanna | WORDS: 590 | NOTES:
Wonderful graphics by Bach!