( This is a little rough, but I think it's ok. There will be lots of OCs in this story, both evil and good, and lots of drama [as to be expected from a fanfiction]. Feel free to leave feedback, or ideas for story plots, or critiques...anything. Just be nice [not that I can't handle brutal comments, I just respond better to constructive criticism as opposed to "your story sucks. I hated it all" and not telling me how to improve—just a note). Thank you for reading this! Truly, it's much appreciated! :D )
Snow sprinkled the sky in little tufts of white, floating gently down to the Earth's floor. Blankets of white covered the city in long stretches, almost as if it were the ground's own personal rug. In its own way, it was beautiful. The ideal packing snow! And, as we all know, not just anyone creates this type of precipitation. A certain person is in charge of it, the very essence of winter, the reason for snow days, blizzards, freak sledding accidents, the fall of a certain Boogeyman...somebody who, many years ago, was finally realized to be real.
Jack Frost.
Laughter, rich and full, burst from his mouth as he flew above the town, sending a blustery wind down the alleyways. He did a few flips, grinning from ear to ear, allowing himself to be carried about for awhile. He wasn't the Guardian of Fun for nothing—nobody knew how to enjoy himself better than Jack did.
A particularly cold gust of wind settled him down on the street, feet feather-light with the assistance of the air, his landing graceful, posture poised. He is what most might describe as "handsome"–a deep blue hooded sweater with frost collecting around the collar rim and rather old, tattered looking brown pants that stopped a bit below his knees, along with bare feet. One might wonder why a semi-average looking teenage boy wouldn't be wearing boots or at least some type of footwear in the winter, had they not known he was the epitome of the season itself. Unruly snow-white hair laid upon his head, some strands sticking out in odd directions, complimenting an ivory skin tone, save for a few gently colored freckles tinting his cheeks. His angular facial features contained dark silver eyebrows, eyes pale blue like ice shards, a defined nose, and a large, lopsided grin. It was a trademark characteristic of the man—he was almost always smiling. To complete the picture, he held a long staff, taller than he was, that was almost completely layered with ice, with an end that hooked like a candy cane. It was used to channel his magic; he'd had it from the day he died and was resurrected as Jack Frost to the present.
A few kids raced pass him, throwing snowballs (a war that Jack himself had started awhile ago), but didn't see him. Despite that fateful day seventy-eight years ago when a young child named Jamie had seen him and believed in him, along with his family and friends, the idea that he existed didn't quite catch on. Some people tried. But in time, the thought died out, leaving Jack weaker than he had been back when Pitch Black roamed the Earth freely. Aggravating as that was, they hadn't had any troubles since then that required anything of him since, anyway; actually, the world had been downright peaceful. Too peaceful. Now, almost reaching his 378th year of existence, Jack was bored. And so far, he saw no way of changing that.
With a sigh that conveyed his many levels of exasperation with the world for being such a dull place, the Guardian of Fun ambled along, staff placed across his shoulders lazily and his arms draped over it. Though life was more interesting with his friends, North, Bunny, Tooth, Baby Tooth, and Sandy, he had to admit that he was kind of going through the motions. Plaguing random countries with ice, the occasional blizzard, snow days galore, snow ball fights that seemed to have no originating source (due to the fact that invisible Jack started them himself). He wanted something new. Eyes flickered about the street he was on, searching for somebody interesting to taunt, or play jokes on, or to brighten the life of.
After a moment he spotted a girl with long hair. She looked to be about sixteen or so, just walking along silently like a shadow, probably one of those people who weren't kids anymore and were "too old to believe in fairy tales". Jack followed, deciding that playing a few harmless pranks wouldn't hurt anybody. Besides, seeing some prissy girl slip on ice or get her hair tangled in something might be amusing. Maybe it would even get him out of his funk!
Blue oculars narrowed at the prospect of a challenge, energy and mischievousness alighting in those vivid orbs. He darted after, flicking his staff at the ground in front of her feet, creating a layer of frozen water. To his delight, she skidded a centimeter, arms spreading out and pinwheeling, before catching her balance and straightening up once more. For a "prissy girl", she had fairly fast reflexes—this could be more fun than he had originally thought! Already a broad grin was spreading over his face. With a new sense of purpose, Jack pointed at her, sending a forceful breeze her way. She wasn't wearing a dress, just baggy jeans and a sweatshirt, so she wouldn't need to worry about her skirt flying up or anything. However, she was petite; he figured it might bowl her over, which would be worth a good laugh. Of course, Jack wasn't a mean spirit, and he fully intended to catch her with wind or snow or something when she did fall. "Taaaaake...this~!" He crowed, guffawing, flying a step or two back to watch her reaction.
A determined expression ebbed over her delicate features, a pout forming on full lips. Instead of tipping with the high winds, she leaned forward, letting its strength keep her upright. The wind blew her thick, tousled amber tresses away from her face, and her eyes narrowed to slits against it, too proud to give into his games. He realized she wasn't too prissy looking after all—in fact, her skin was bruised and scarred from a lifetime of adventure. Jack raised a brow; whatever had caused him to think she was prissy? There had to have been something! It was probably just the fact that she was in her teens, the time when suddenly those older kids didn't consider themselves children and started being "too good" for the Guardians. She couldn't see him—no teenagers ever could–but apparently he'd misjudged her.
And, unwittingly, he'd just done it again!
The female turned toward him, her hair almost completely covering her face, masking her startling appearance, balling up her hands into fists. "S-stop," she snarled at him; it might have been intimidating if not for the stutter. He blinked; she had some sort of accent, but her voice was so quiet and feeble he couldn't quite place it. Either way, she seemed to be blaming her predicament on somebody.
Jack didn't reply, knowing she couldn't see him. These days, nobody could. Though he did let his gaze roam, searching for anybody nearby who may be close enough to accuse this of. To his bemusement, there was nobody. That was funny...
Her index finger jabbed into his chest roughly, ripping his attention back to her. His eyes widened, staring at the finger, and then at her. Though he could barely see her face through that odd hairstyle of her's which covered all of it, he could see the downturn of the corners of her mouth, portraying her anger. But it wasn't her fury that stunned him—it was the fact that she was seeing him, talking to him, even! Touching him! "I k-know y-you c-c-c-can hear me. You-you're looking right at m-me!" For a moment she just looked (at least he assumed she was looking—he couldn't really see her eyes) at him in outrage. Then, as if realizing what she'd done, her mouth opened it an 'o' of surprise, a sharp inhale following. She shifted, as if to take away the finger-
-when Jack grasped it in his clammy hand, tightening over it so it wouldn't move. Her body tensed, preparing to fight him off if necessary. But one look at his expression and she slowly relaxed; he meant her no harm. She could see that. From beneath her hair he saw the glint of eyes he could hardly identify as they widened slightly in wonder, probably trying to figure him out.
Then he grinned. The girl was baffled. Picturing her expression, he chuckled.
Releasing the finger, the boy put his hands on his hips and stared down at her, obviously very pleased with life. Teen or not, he towered over the little lady. "You can see me!" He told her gleefully, beaming. "Me! You're looking at me!"
He could just imagine her eyebrows shooting up. "..Yes." She replied carefully, considering her words before saying them. "...I c-can." No doubt she was concluding that he was nuts. Most people would. But he didn't care about that.
"...!" For a moment he was speechless with unconcealed happiness. Then he let out a loud, joyous laugh, putting his hands on her shoulders and giving her a little shake. "That's amazing!" He exclaimed, hopping eagerly from foot to foot before releasing her and spinning in a full circle on his heel. "It's been years, years." Jack threw his hands into the air, ecstatic. Now he could tell she was confused. Maybe even concerned for his well being. The female took a hesitant step back, hands fidgeting, chewing her lower lip. Before she could say anything, or worse, run away, Jack waved a hand cheerfully at her with another warm, slightly rasping chuckle. "Jack Frost! That's my name."
That didn't seem to surprise her much, actually. Taking it in stride, she offered a polite hand to shake. "..I-I'm Tabitha." He stared at the hand, not quite sure what to do with it. After an awkward moment, she let it drop. Tabitha took a deep, steadying breath. "So...y-you're not exactly h-h-human, are y-you?" The wheels were obviously turning in her head, putting two and two together about him being the Jack Frost, questions about the "pranks" he'd tried to pull on her evaporating. If he really was Jack Frost, then everything that had just happened made a lot more sense.
"Straightforward, aren't you?" asked the male, grinning. "You're not exactly a non-human, are you?" He shot back, not taking things seriously, as always. Already he could feel his powers returning, stronger than they had been in for what felt like forever. It was an incredible feeling to be believed in again. Absolutely spectacular!
That did it—a tiny smile crossed her face. Speaking with such a refreshing person was fun, she decided. And he wasn't like the others. "N-no. I s-suppo-ose n-not." whispered the girl in return, scratching the back of her head in embarrassment. Strange as she was, Jack was enjoying himself. Talking to somebody new was awesome. Even if she was she shiest person he'd ever met.
"Tabby!" They both started at the nickname, and Jack noticed with a frown that the name made her wince. Turning to look over her shoulder, they both watched a smaller girl walk toward them, head lifted in the air. Despite her shorter height, she had mastered the art of looking down on them anyway, her arrogance numbing the air more than any frost Jack had brought along with him. She had blonde hair to her shoulders and olive green eyes, her features resembling the little he'd seen of Tabitha's. Though, unlike Tabitha, she seemed grumpy and unfriendly. People like that were not people Jack got along with; he took an instant disliking to her. "What's taking you?"
Tabitha seemed agitated now. "H-hi, A-Angela. N-nothing...j-just talking to J-Jack Frost.." Was it just him, or had her stuttering gotten worse? Tabitha gestured meekly over her shoulder, and the girl Angela narrowed her eyes at Jack. Maybe seeing him was a family trait? But then Angela snickered, and his halfhearted surge of hope evaporating. Perhaps he hadn't wanted somebody like Angela believing in him, anyway. She seemed obnoxious.
"You're really cracking up this time, Tabby." Another wince at the disdainful title, and a flinch away at the comment of her cracking up. Unlike Tabitha, this girl was all-American, with no accent whatsoever. "Can't you be a good role model for your little sister and not talk to imaginary friends?" At the last comment, Tabitha frowned, glancing over at Jack. He gave her a rueful smile and a shrug; he was denying nothing. "Now hurry up," Angela was saying as she turned around, shaking her head, "and stop rambling about things that don't exist. We're lucky our parents never lied to us about those fake people like all my friend's parents did, like Santa Claus, and the rest. Like, that's just bogus. I can't even believe they did that! Jack Frost is just an expression." Jack glared. He hated when people said that. "You're gullible." The annoying girl glided away, sneering, muttering something about Tabitha losing it as she went.
Another flinch from Tabitha. However, the further Angela got, the less nervous the redhead seemed to become. Then, resignedly, she turned to Jack. "I h-have to go.."
Disappointment coursed through him. But then he shrugged easily, tossing his staff from hand to hand. "Cool. When will I see you again?" Tabitha gawked. "I'll come see you, alright? Tomorrow?" After a moment, she allowed another small smile and nodded. Jack grinned and jumped into the air, letting the wind take him away. He watched her stare up at him before turning and walking away, acting natural. Tabitha walked after her younger sister, and Jack thought about the conversation with Angela—was it true that some parents didn't tell their children about North and Bunny? If that was true, than why had Tabitha seemed so put off by those statements? Did she believe anyway? And how could she see him if Angela couldn't, and they'd both been raised not to believe? Angela had called her "gullible". Perhaps it was that sheer naïvity that allowed her to see him. The idea made him smile. There were firsts for everything! And goddamn, that girl was something.
There was nothing else to do in this city. Jack figured he might visit North—now that he was allowed into the workshop, with no further need to break in and attempt to pass the Yeti, he went to explore it often as he could. It was a nice pass time whenever he had nothing better to do, and North, Guardian of Wonder, had many incredible inventions and devices that had not yet been released to the general public of the world. Jack flew off in that direction, still smiling to himself. Below him he heard a honk of a car horn and a crash, and sniggered; probably just due to his ice. Nothing to worry about. Honestly, the idea was an amusing one. No car could prevail against his powers! With a fleeting grin, he sped off toward the North Pole, calling out, "Wind! Take me to North's!" And, as if it wasn't being controlled by Jack and could actually understand him, it did.