Emma Swan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
untoldtale) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
taxonomites2013-01-07 11:08 am
untoldtale) wrote in taxonomites2013-01-07 11:08 am
Entry tags:
01 [holo] A Whole New World
"What is that?" Emma whispers, staring at the purple smoke speeding through town from the forest.
Beside her is Henry, the boy who moments before had been dead (a thought which fills her with emotions she can't name or tolerate), the boy with all the answers. He's staring along with her and shakes his head. "Something bad."
Before she can ask what that means the smoke fills the window and her vision, and when she blinks it, Henry, and in fact the entire hospital are gone. Instead there's a circular metal room, some steps leading down to an opening doorway, a big machine thing, and a pedestal with a familiar sword and scabbard leaning against it.
"What. The. Hell." She reaches for the gun holstered under her jacket, remembers that a) the clip is empty and b) how useless it was last time she employed it, and strides over to pick up the sword instead. This doesn't look like any fairy tale she's heard of, but the past few days have taught her to prepare for anything. Awkwardly she pulls the scabbard's strap over her shoulder, trying not to think too much about her three awkward dates with Ken the LARPer from South Bend.
Though maybe she should have paid more attention to all his talk about the best way to kill an orc.
"All right, Regina, whatever you've done, whatever you've got planned--" She steps out of the doorway, then whirls back around as it seals itself up again. What now? Guards? Wolves? The flying salamanders of Zo?
"Who's there?" she calls and starts down the hall, reaching back to (again, awkwardly) draw the sword. She adjusts her grip until it feels right. "I swear to God if you've done anything to my son I'll shove this thing straight up your ass!"
Later she'll regret how cliche that is but now's not the time for creativity.
~*~
Sometime after getting the low-down...
Beside her is Henry, the boy who moments before had been dead (a thought which fills her with emotions she can't name or tolerate), the boy with all the answers. He's staring along with her and shakes his head. "Something bad."
Before she can ask what that means the smoke fills the window and her vision, and when she blinks it, Henry, and in fact the entire hospital are gone. Instead there's a circular metal room, some steps leading down to an opening doorway, a big machine thing, and a pedestal with a familiar sword and scabbard leaning against it.
"What. The. Hell." She reaches for the gun holstered under her jacket, remembers that a) the clip is empty and b) how useless it was last time she employed it, and strides over to pick up the sword instead. This doesn't look like any fairy tale she's heard of, but the past few days have taught her to prepare for anything. Awkwardly she pulls the scabbard's strap over her shoulder, trying not to think too much about her three awkward dates with Ken the LARPer from South Bend.
Though maybe she should have paid more attention to all his talk about the best way to kill an orc.
"All right, Regina, whatever you've done, whatever you've got planned--" She steps out of the doorway, then whirls back around as it seals itself up again. What now? Guards? Wolves? The flying salamanders of Zo?
"Who's there?" she calls and starts down the hall, reaching back to (again, awkwardly) draw the sword. She adjusts her grip until it feels right. "I swear to God if you've done anything to my son I'll shove this thing straight up your ass!"
Later she'll regret how cliche that is but now's not the time for creativity.
~*~
Sometime after getting the low-down...