So...I recently saw Rise of the Guardians, and I just gotta say...
Best. Movie. EVER!
I really wanted to write an OC for it, because there was just so much room to write one (there were even some possible ones mentioned in the movie, for crying out loud!) so I did some brainstorming and here's what I got.
This may very, very loosely resemble Neil Gaiman's Stardust, because, well, it shares some of the same aspects-namely the star that fell to Earth. However, it was based on a one-shot/drabble thing (also RotG) that I have posted somewhere on this site-if you wanna see it, feel free!
P.S. I do own Rise of the Guardians. Or at least, I own Rise of the Guardians in my mind. Unfortunately, the real world would tend to disagree with me.
For centuries, people have believed in the magic of the stars.
See the first star of night glimmering up in the sky? Every night, millions of children pray to that star in hopes that their dearest wishes come true. Little voices whisper silent petitions to the Wishing Star, and she does her best to answer.
Yes, I said she.
Scientists would argue that the first star of evening is actually the planet Venus rising in the sky, or maybe a ball of flaming gas and dust a million miles away. They would be dead wrong. The First Star, the Wishing star, is a she. A she with mood swings and a temper and a strange love of watermelon.
She has sat up in the sky for a good four centuries, shining and twinkling and generally acting star-like. She's listened to every child's prayer, every petition. She acts as the emblem of hope and dreams for the world below. Hell, she has several songs dedicated to her.
Naturally, she is bored to tears.
How do I know all this?
Because I am the Wishing Star.
Trust me, there's not much worse than floating in an inky blackness for all eternity, listening to the faint songs of your sisters and the much, much louder wishes of the children below. Don't get me wrong, I love kids, it's just…
Why can't the little buggers just shut up?
I have held this job for four hundred and fifty-two years. I don't know who I took over for, and frankly, I don't care. The only company I have is MiM, and while he tells the best stories, he is annoyingly silent whenever I ask him the one thing I want most to know: Why me?
I mean, what is my purpose? Why do I have to be the one to sit up here, watching the joy and pain and love of humanity play out below, never getting to experience it first-hand? Why do I have to choose whose wishes to grant and who to disappoint?
Over the centuries, I have watched the world grow old from my vantage point high in the sky. None of the children or even adults on Earth suspect they're actually wishing to an eternal teenager with a rather quick temper. Hell, even the Guardians—the protectors of Earth, of childhood—have no idea that I exist. To them, I'm just another flaming ball of gas and dust.
Lovely.
Yes, I am the Wishing Star. I have lived in the sky for 452 years and I was just about to wish for a bullet to put through my head when something happened.
I am the Wishing Star, and the best day of my life was the day I fell from the sky.
Well, here it is. The intro. If you think that this might be a good story, I would love, love, love a review.
Thanks!
