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[freezespirited]

[No one can see him, not even himself. He forgot a long time ago what he looks like, and he wonders if anyone even remembers who he is. Not that he can exactly go and ask someone. He holds onto his cloak, digging his hands into the fine, intricately detailed fabric, more of a decoration than a barrier against the cold. Snow falls wherever he walks, sticking to the ground a bit longer than normal snow. He talks to himself to keep himself company, mostly commenting on anyone else he sees. The curse missed his voice, even if it silenced it from everyone else. Right now he follows someone carrying groceries.]

Heading home?

[No answer.]

People are talking that there could be a blizzard. [No they're not.] Sure that's enough if you're stuck in your...whatever you call what you live in?

[No answer.]

[So he tries harder. He talks and talks, about the mundane and the extraordinary, until without thinking, he gives one light tug to the bag, causing the person to drop it, ruining everything and making a mess. Jack laughs, loudly and a little wild. He feels a little guilty afterward, but no real harm done, right? Now that the distraction's over, his mood sours once again. He doesn't know what else to do, but what other choice does he have but to keep trying? The snow whips around him violently, as he wanders, looking for someone new to follow.]

Comments

[notdogmatic]

They cannot see you.

[The speaker is a white-robed, translucent figure, standing easily a few paces off the ground, with light streaming from an unseen source behind him and refracting into geometric patters as it passes around his head and shoulders.]

[freezespirited]

That was very helpful, I didn't notice that myse--

[Wait. Waitwaitwait. Jack stares, mouth agape.]

Can...can you?

[Is he floating? Maybe he's imagining this. Maybe he's so lonely, and so desperate, his mind conjured up what he wanted.]

[notdogmatic]

That's right.

Be not afraid, Jack. I am as real as you are.

[He smiles and spreads his hands, an inclusive gesture -- almost intrusively so, with the knowing look in his eyes.]

[freezespirited]

I do not fear anyone.

[A little unnerved, maybe, but also intrigued. He rises to his full height, keeping his expression carefully neutral.]

How do you know my name?

[notdogmatic]

I know all the names of all free-willed beings in my demesnes.

[freezespirited]

Explain what you mean.

[notdogmatic]

I am of the Grigorim. All beings with the sentience and sapience to make informed moral choices are my wards, and therefore I am granted knowledge of them.

[rule_britannia]

Did I get everything I.. yes, I certainly did.

[Arthur is walking (or, rather, meandering with vague purpose) with a package held under his cloak. He doesn't have the look of a typical wizard - he's fairly young, or appears so, lacking the beard and ample ear-hair of your stereotypical male magic user - but he's dressed the part and is muttering distractedly to himself as he passes by some poor sap who's just dropped their groceries.]

Hm.

[None of his business. He doesn't stop to help. What does distract him though, is the trail of snow on the ground.]

Well, now.. that's not right. That's not right at all. Localised-- too localised. Hm!

[He looks up, pushing the brim of his hat up to glance around himself. A sprite, perhaps? Perhaps..]



((ooc: Your call if he can see him or not! If not, working out how to communicate might be fun :3))

[freezespirited]

You don't seem so sure about that.

[A wizard. Or at least Jack thinks he's a wizard. He never understood why, with all their magic, wizards were so adamant about looking old and not using it for fun. His hopes aren't very high, but tagging along will be entertaining for him and it's not like he has anywhere he has to be.]

That's...that's right! Keep looking! It couldn't have been natural, could it? It's almost like--

[He's bouncing with excitement now.]

Somebody made it.



[ooc: Wanna see how they try to communicate? X3]

[rule_britannia]

It's almost like somebody made it...

[He mutters it almost in unison with Jack, not that he knows it. The package under his cloak is shifted around, pushed into one of many pockets far larger inside than out, and he brushes his fingers over the frosted ground.

Who, or what would go out of their way to make a trail of frost like this?

Arthur stands, adjusts his collar and hums softly in thought.]

A strange time of year for something like that... [He pauses, then speaks again, more carefully this time.] ... Is someone there?



((ooc: Yeeees X3))

[freezespirited]

[He jumps in delight, rubbing his palms together.]

It must not be natural. [He goes still, stunned, bouncing and jumping even faster seconds later.] Yes! Someone's here! It's me, Jack Frost...why am I talking to you, you can't hear me.

[He looks at Arthur, then at the snow, deciding to try something he's done before. Only last time, it ended in fear. It doesn't take much effort to create the snowflakes, letting them dance around his palms as they become the special ones that bring joy. He sends the snow around Arthur, falling on the ground to form patterns of swirled ferns, trees that seem to reach the clouds. Then, Jack kneels down, and scribbles into the snow: Yes.]

[rule_britannia]

[It's not fear, but there's certainly an element of surprise in the soft gasp that leaves him at the snow swirling around him. He pulls his hat off, looking up, around at the swirling flakes as they settle in his scruffy blond hair and against his skin.]

My stars.. [He mutters it, knowing some kind of magic is at work here. Arthur takes a step forwards, snow crunching underfoot, then looks down.

... What is that, now? He crouches down and draws a line under the word written in the snow, tilting his head to better make it out. Yes?]

... Very well.. sprite or spirit, you have my attention... Who are you?

[freezespirited]

[Jack jumps back as if he has somewhere to hide, fearing at first that, once again, he's scared someone off. Peering at him cautiously, he approaches once he realizes Arthur isn't about to run.]

Sprite? That's a first.

[He makes a face, but this is his chance. He starts scribbling in the snow excitedly: No, human, Frost, Overland, Can you really read this? He pauses, then looks at Arthur and wipes away the words to start again. Greetings, Wizard. My previous outburst was uncalled for. It has been many years since I have spoken with anyone. I am called Jack Frost, but my name is rarely spoken anymore. Perhaps you have heard of the Lost Prince? Tell me, what is your name?]

[easy_a]

[Lo and behold, a fair maiden on her way home!

...Or one grumbling about touchy-feely tavern patrons and a witch's curse. Both would be accurate in this case. She tugs her shall up over her bare shoulders, her gait brisk but casual, eyes never meeting anyone's as she ambles down the rue.]

[freezespirited]

[Fair maiden! Jack smiles at first, then winces when he catches what she says. Her, too? Curses mean nothing but pain. Which is probably why they're curses.]

Rough day?

[He starts to walk next to her, the previously angry snow calming down around them.]

[easy_a]

[Her brow furrows and she turns her head to the side. That's odd... she could have sworn she heard someone.

Only once she's sure she doesn't see anyone around her does she return her head to its proper, upright position.]

And here I thought things couldn't be stranger.

[freezespirited]

[He might be looking straight at Alisha, but he feels her eyes go right through him. He smiles, then looks in the same direction as her, as if she were talking to him.]

You know what I've found? They tend to become much stranger when someone goes and says that.

[easy_a]

[She stops in her tracks, looking around again.]

...Simon?

[Well, he had the ability to turn invisible. Sure, he wasn't around anymore and the voice she semi-heard didn't sound like him, but it's the first thing that pops to mind.]

Er, hello?

[freezespirited]

[Jack stops as well. He's suddenly breathing very quickly, and he asks, hesitant because he's afraid he'll be disappointed.]

...Can you hear what I say?

[coimiceoir]

[ Despite the chill and bitter breeze, something odd is happening to the plants beside the pavement. They're visibly growing. Grass and flowers stretch taller, brightening to a vibrant green that suggests early spring, looking as fresh and tender as though they had broken the soil yesterday. Birds fluffed their feathers and looked about, chirping inquisitively before bursting into full-throated song. Everything was growing brighter, more colorful, somehow more alive than it had been a moment ago. Snowdrops began to appear.

And from behind him, a sweet girlish voice spoke.]

Come now, geimhreadh buachaill, don't fret.

[freezespirited]

[Jack laughs at the sight, running through the glass and flowers and kneeling down to admire the Snowdrops. He takes none of the flowers though, he knows better. You don't just go and take things from nature without asking, or else you risk angering someone. However, admiring the vibrancy, he starts to add a soft blanket of snow--stopping and turning, wondering if the voice was addressing him.

Slowly, he points at himself, as if asking if he can be seen.]

[coimiceoir]

[A gently amused curl of laughter comes from a girl clearly watching him. At once both young and ageless, she stands only a few yards away, clad all in gold, with snowdrops pushing at each other to form a pool of white about her feet. The circlet on her brow crowning her with oak leaves, the gleaming torc at her throat, the regal bearing and unconscious grace all mark her as something other. Something more than mortal. He may have heard of her, and if he had been paying attention to the broadcasts flying about the island in the last few days, he might have caught her message - this was most certainly the Queen of the Forest. The Faerie Queen, as some called her.]

Of course I can see you. Are we not kin, under that spell?

[She tilts her head, smiling kindly, and makes a fluid gesture as she half turns back toward the woods of her domain.]

Walk with me.

[freezespirited]

[It is clear to see she is noble, even more obvious than when facing the most extravagantly decorated mortal. He isn't sure how to answer that, was she under a similar curse? Perhaps it was only rhetorical. But he knows who she is, even before he knows of her most recent messages, and he feels humbled by standing in her presence, even as he stands proudly.

He also knows it is not wise to refuse the requests of any like her, especially not the Queen. But he would follow her anyway, thanks to his own curiosity, and happiness over being seen. He walks beside her, looking to the woods.]

I didn't freeze any of your plants, if that's why you're here.

[coimiceoir]

Not yet. Not before it is time.

[The acknowledgement is easy and calm, accepting the concern and dismissing it for now.]

No, sneachta, it is not for that which I come to you.

[She lapses into a brief contemplative silence, letting it stretch before breaking it.]

You sorrow and mourn, and yet you avoid those who would welcome you. I would know why, if you would tell of it.

[freezespirited]

[He keeps his voice light and playful, but it's not quite enough to hide a little cynicism.]

I kind of figured no one would want Winter around, with it being Spring and everything to do with plants and warmth and sunshine. Especially when Winter's been unpredictable lately.

[Being cursed tends to do that.]