( This is just a story I'd been fooling around with: I'm getting back to all my older stuff soon. This might be a thing, who knows. Like and respond if you'd like to see more. Later.)
It was chilly, frost forming in small circles on the window panes, the snow falling gently outside.
I came into the room quickly, shivering from the cold in a towel, fresh from the shower.
I dashed around to get clothes, struggling into jeans as my teeth chattered.
" Ah, damn stupid winter!" I groaned, as I fell over and bonked my head on the floor.
Dressed, and still in a bad mood, I powered on my computer, clicked through some pop ups, and started researching the paper on legends and folk lore Mr. Montervaruise wanted by Monday, the Friday already passed wasted playing video games.
" Let's see.... arctic fable.... Snow Queen.... jack frost?"
The link took me to a garishly done site devoted to this idea, claiming Jack Frost was a boy of 19 who drowned saving his sister during the 1700's, and lived on as the " lord of the ice and frosts "
" Well, that's.... insane."
I said, scrolling through it.
I glanced out the window at the falling snow, at the frost forming....
the guy staring in at me.
I was up in a moment, throwing open the window despite the cold. " Hey creep..."
No one was there, just frost and snowflakes.
" kiddo, gotta be quicker than that!" A mocking voice said.
I looked up to see a face smiling down from the roof peak, un lined and young, framed by pure white hair .
" What the Hel... ahhh!"
I lost my footing, and fell on my ass hard, the window slamming shut against the snow outside.
Breathing heavy, I got to my feet slowly, carefully sliding the window up again.
" Hello?"
Only the wind at first, whistling through the trees like a tortured soul....
and soft breathing.
I turned to see the guy, tall and thin, stupidly barefoot in this weather, balanced on the ledge outside the window frame, Staring at me.
" What, never seen snow before?" He laughed, the sound incredibly deep for one so young appearing.
" No, just weirdo guys hanging out on my house. "
He stared, eyes wide, fingers clenching loosely on a wooden staff he clutched.
" You... can see me, kid?"
" Well... DUH. You're right outside my window when its, like, -1. What the Hell's wrong with you?"
The guy didn't answer, simply stepping off the ledge.
I backed away, ready to head to the phone to report some loony taking a header off my house, when a soft thud made me turn.
He'd somehow swung through the window, landing catlike on the balls of his feet, still staring at me with interest in his sky blue eyes.
" So... you really see me, huh?"
He kicked his staff upwards with one swift motion, catching it with pale hands and laying it on his shoulders like a yoke.
" That's a nice change. " He said with a grin.
" Huh?"
The guy grinned. " Nuthin."
I sat down on my desk chair, and looked the guy over: tall, but muscular, like a wrestler on the slim side, his sweater dusted with frost.
He didn't wear actual pants, just leggings that only came to mid lower thigh, seemingly strapped on with bands of leather.
And no shoes, his feet pale and cold looking.
" Dude, you should wear more clothes in this weather. you wanna catch cold?"
He laughed, flopping down onto my bed like he owned the place.
" That's a good one, there, kiddo."
" I'm not joking. And it's not kiddo. Quit that, its annoying. "
The guy laughed again, his eyes lighting up.
" So what is your name, bro?"
" Max, not that its any business of yours."
He smiled, but didn't say anything, just twirled his staff thing along the carpet.
I watched with annoyance, then fear: frost formed where the staff touched, beautiful fern patterns that defied the heater and reasoning.
" what.. are you?" I chocked out.
He leapt to his feet nimbly, then jumped on top of the crook of the staff, toes curled around the edge, perfectly balanced against all laws of gravity and normalcy.
" I have many names.... Mr. Icicle, old Man Winter.... I prefer Jack Frost. "
You can imagine how well I took this.
" What? But... that's kinda a..."
Fable... myth... legend...
truth: the boy balanced on a oak wood staff in front of me proved it.
" Not many people see me at your age, Max. "
" Must be my meds."He laughed, the sound almost like the wind when it rushed quickly through snowy grass.
" Why me?" I asked.
" Why not? You see..."
He leapt across the room in a flash, landing on the top of my shelf like an over large bird.
".. it gets boring being a legend. a faceless myth. You seemed.." He chuckled. " Cool."
That was the start of a ton of stuff, but those are other stories. For now, lets leave it here, as the snow piles up, and myths become reality.
( This is just a story I'd been fooling around with: I'm getting back to all my older stuff soon. This might be a thing, who knows. Like and respond if you'd like to see more. Later.)
It was chilly, frost forming in small circles on the window panes, the snow falling gently outside.
I came into the room quickly, shivering from the cold in a towel, fresh from the shower.
I dashed around to get clothes, struggling into jeans as my teeth chattered.
" Ah, damn stupid winter!" I groaned, as I fell over and bonked my head on the floor.
Dressed, and still in a bad mood, I powered on my computer, clicked through some pop ups, and started researching the paper on legends and folk lore Mr. Montervaruise wanted by Monday, the Friday already passed wasted playing video games.
" Let's see.... arctic fable.... Snow Queen.... jack frost?"
The link took me to a garishly done site devoted to this idea, claiming Jack Frost was a boy of 19 who drowned saving his sister during the 1700's, and lived on as the " lord of the ice and frosts "
" Well, that's.... insane."
I said, scrolling through it.
I glanced out the window at the falling snow, at the frost forming....
the guy staring in at me.
I was up in a moment, throwing open the window despite the cold. " Hey creep..."
No one was there, just frost and snowflakes.
" kiddo, gotta be quicker than that!" A mocking voice said.
I looked up to see a face smiling down from the roof peak, un lined and young, framed by pure white hair .
" What the Hel... ahhh!"
I lost my footing, and fell on my ass hard, the window slamming shut against the snow outside.
Breathing heavy, I got to my feet slowly, carefully sliding the window up again.
" Hello?"
Only the wind at first, whistling through the trees like a tortured soul....
and soft breathing.
I turned to see the guy, tall and thin, stupidly barefoot in this weather, balanced on the ledge outside the window frame, Staring at me.
" What, never seen snow before?" He laughed, the sound incredibly deep for one so young appearing.
" No, just weirdo guys hanging out on my house. "
He stared, eyes wide, fingers clenching loosely on a wooden staff he clutched.
" You... can see me, kid?"
" Well... DUH. You're right outside my window when its, like, -1. What the Hell's wrong with you?"
The guy didn't answer, simply stepping off the ledge.
I backed away, ready to head to the phone to report some loony taking a header off my house, when a soft thud made me turn.
He'd somehow swung through the window, landing catlike on the balls of his feet, still staring at me with interest in his sky blue eyes.
" So... you really see me, huh?"
He kicked his staff upwards with one swift motion, catching it with pale hands and laying it on his shoulders like a yoke.
" That's a nice change. " He said with a grin.
" Huh?"
The guy grinned. " Nuthin."
I sat down on my desk chair, and looked the guy over: tall, but muscular, like a wrestler on the slim side, his sweater dusted with frost.
He didn't wear actual pants, just leggings that only came to mid lower thigh, seemingly strapped on with bands of leather.
And no shoes, his feet pale and cold looking.
" Dude, you should wear more clothes in this weather. you wanna catch cold?"
He laughed, flopping down onto my bed like he owned the place.
" That's a good one, there, kiddo."
" I'm not joking. And it's not kiddo. Quit that, its annoying. "
The guy laughed again, his eyes lighting up.
" So what is your name, bro?"
" Max, not that its any business of yours."
He smiled, but didn't say anything, just twirled his staff thing along the carpet.
I watched with annoyance, then fear: frost formed where the staff touched, beautiful fern patterns that defied the heater and reasoning.
" what.. are you?" I chocked out.
He leapt to his feet nimbly, then jumped on top of the crook of the staff, toes curled around the edge, perfectly balanced against all laws of gravity and normalcy.
" I have many names.... Mr. Icicle, old Man Winter.... I prefer Jack Frost. "
You can imagine how well I took this.
" What? But... that's kinda a..."
Fable... myth... legend...
truth: the boy balanced on a oak wood staff in front of me proved it.
" Not many people see me at your age, Max. "
" Must be my meds."He laughed, the sound almost like the wind when it rushed quickly through snowy grass.
" Why me?" I asked.
" Why not? You see..."
He leapt across the room in a flash, landing on the top of my shelf like an over large bird.
".. it gets boring being a legend. a faceless myth. You seemed.." He chuckled. " Cool."
That was the start of a ton of stuff, but those are other stories. For now, lets leave it here, as the snow piles up, and myths become reality.
Edited by TheTimidLight