REVERSE PICTURE PROMPT MEME.

[lucency]

① leave a blank comment.
② pick a character. put them in the subject line.
③ receive pictures.
④ do the thread.
⑤ rinse and repeat.

Comments

cooper!

[industria]

[caffeinisms]

[industria]

[ Spring break and Allison is out of Beacon Hills for a bit. She's driven up the coast and has ended up among the trees, sitting across a diner table with a fresh cup of coffee set out before her. ]

Did you say this was the best?

[ A smile pulls at her lips. She knows. She just wants to clarify. Life is a mess. Not that it's any better up north, but she does appreciate finally meeting someone outside of her bubble who knows about what she has been going through recently.

She survived the fall. She is alive and that's what matters. It only makes her more driven to really live and accomplish what she set out to do. ]

[caffeinisms]

I did.

[ he beams at her from across the booth, his hands folded across the table. he knows allison isn't exactly here to sample the coffees of washington, but presents every day, and all of that. she'd said it's spring break. she deserves to relax.

he's got a half-downed cup of his own with the rest of the pot to go with it, and he takes a sip of his own. ]

Now, I can't speak for that one in particular, but this place? [ he leans in, as though telling an amazing secret. ] Best food I've had this side of Philadelphia.

[industria]

[ Near death experiences and the recovery that follows - it would be hard on anyone, but for a seventeen year old girl who has lost several people she cares about - it's a heavy burden. There are things to figure out and address once she returns, but after being deemed healthy, she had decided to leave town for a week.

Besides, she finally has a chance to meet someone she's come to admire and have a nice sit and chat. Good coffee helps. Once she's taken a sip, a smile spreads across her face before she realizes it. ]

That is good. The coffee at home is a little lighter than this.

ariel!

[itched]

[hushful]

[itched]

[ It's summertime and the Stiefels have somehow managed a trip to the beach. Moritz is glad because a) they never go on vacation and b) he doesn't have to suffer through his father breathing down his neck for a full day. He didn't even suggest bringing Moritz's supplementary summer coursework and that's just grand.

The palest, scrawniest guy on the beach makes his way along the coastline, barefooted and too chicken to even pull his shirt off to swim. He needs to work up the courage.

There's a lighthouse over there that he's curious to explore. Or, rather, stand outside awkwardly. The rumors say that it's haunted, but he just thinks it's old and unused and he wants to know what it looks like from the top, overlooking the sea and watching the boats come in. ]

[hushful]

[ ariel isn't exactly used to these whole leg things yet. she's got a voice, and that's all well and good, but it's diminished slightly when she can't quite get her balance or her sense of speed. it's difficult and strange having her bottom half not moving as one entity - so many more bones and muscles and what do you mean she's not supposed to wiggle her toes at all times?

clearly, the best option for a girl who doesn't quite know how to walk yet is to climb the stairs of that super tall lighthouse. she doesn't know about the rumors or the supposed hauntings or why it's absolutely soaked on the inside, but she's trying to make a mad dash up the stairs.

until she falls.

that screech isn't a ghost, moritz. it's just ariel having no clue about anything. ]

you know whom i seek

[quackery]

ACTUALLY I DON'T

[lucency]

SO HERE'S TWO

[therapeutics]

actually hold up let me tentatively try this

[bloodwritten]

pick whoever

[topmodel]

fair warning i am super canonblind here!!

[keytars]

Belle!

[madehervows]

[lucency]

[fat albert voice] hey hey hey

[remodeled]

[transacting]

[remodeled]

( it was cold in the stairwell.

not that it ever was otherwise during this time of year, but this was the first observation that dawned on dorothy after she had rehabilitated from her first ever (and hopefully last ever) negotiation tailgate, where she had experienced her first ever (and hopefully last ever) bout of brainwashing at the hands of mr. beck. this was all following her first ever (and hopefully last ever) kidnapping, which had come as a result of her first ever —

— well, there was a common theme to the recent events in dorothy's life.

a common color palette, too. it was growing dark; the first traces of winter unfolding outside. not even pausing to take in the dusk through the bow windows across the second floor stairwell, dorothy started down the stairs - step by step - aiming for the spaces between the balusters with her duster proper. from her vantage point, she could see norman talking to roger on the first floor, and she could hear roger grunting a noncommittal reply to whatever that was said. something to do with dinner, most likely. 8:30pm, sharp. never a minute more, never a minute less.

setting her duster by her feet, dorothy places her hands on the rail and redoubles her stare at roger from his open study room. humans could not refocus their senses so much as to perceive things directly out of their line-of-sight... at least, not immediately. how long would it take him to notice he was being watched? would he ever notice he was being watched? if he did not notice, was that a critical failure on part of a professional negotiator, who was supposed to be especially sensitive to these kinds of things?

thirty seconds. she'll give him thirty seconds. )

[transacting]

[ to his credit, he doe realize he's being watched, somewhere within that thirty second timeframe. she interrupts his thoughts, it seems - some introspective monologue cut short with a record scratch as he turns around quickly, something of a gasp going unvoiced, even as there's a flicker of his eyes going wide.

when he sees who it is, however, he merely chuckles, brushing it off lightly, as though nothing had happened. nothing to betray his apparent calmness. and it's not that there's anything to be afraid of, really. no apparent threats, no kidnappings, no brainwashing, and so on and so forth. perhaps that's what sets him on edge, the fact that there' nothing to concern himself with - and roger isn't the type to go searching for cases, lest he miss the ones that conveniently fall into his lap. ]

Hasn't anybody told you not to stare, Dorothy?

[ surely he thought they were past the human etiquette stage, sardonic remarks aside. he turns away from her again, idly flipping over one of the hourglasses on his desk. ]

you know who { pretend i don't owe you a quarter million tags

[undealt]

gj chris

[lucency]

[undealt]

[With Zelena dealt with and things back in their proper place- well. Perhaps not proper. They were, after all, still back in Storybrooke and not their home realm, though Gold could scarcely say he minded. The Enchanted Forest held few good memories- what he had to hold onto was here in this land.

But the point is, things had settled. Everything was routine again. There were fewer mishaps, of course, which meant the shop remained mostly devoid of patrons and Gold was content with that. It meant he and Belle could spend plenty of time in the backroom.

(No, not like that.)

It had been an idle thought- one Belle had likely hoped would be picked up on, if he knew her. And at first he'd deigned to ignore it, because the concept was frightening and dangerous, but magic is both those things and more in the hands of someone who has never had any practical experience. Among other reasons.

So one day, during one of her visits to the shop, he led her to the backroom where he'd shoved enough things around to make a space big enough to work in.]

I've been... giving it some thought. [He murmurs, sheepishly.] And perhaps you ought to start learning magic.

[lucency]

Magic? [ she repeats bluntly, head snapping back at him from examining the sudden space around the room, and peering at hum curiously. yes, the idea had crossed her mind - things would be so much easier if she knew magic. she'd be more of a force to be reckoned with when the moment really counted, less susceptible to human weaknesses and faults and -

and it's still magic.

it's still magic and the thought sends something twisting through her stomach, because this is something beyond spells given to her, or fairy dust. ] What makes you say that?

[ because in spite of all things, she is curious. and it would be practical.

but she's also picked up on how rumplestiltskin operates as a teacher. and while this is storybrooke and he is different, it begs a point of attention, even if she does trust him. ]