Disclaimer: Rise of the Guardians character names belong to Christina Steinberg, Nancy Bernstein, William Joyce, (and so on) unless stated or implied an OC which in case belong to the author, andshecryz. No copyright infringement is intended. Plagiarism is theft so is prohibited. Do not copy or create a reproduction of this work in any language without express written authorization of the author, andshecryz. Thank you...Please enjoy. c:
Pitch x Oc
Enjoy~
Chapter 1; 'Becoming'
She could recall nothing before the moon, the air...cold, and the forest...dark. It gave her light as she dragged herself onto bare feet, the circle's surface cratered and marred, standing beside the stars in some oddly dignified appearance of strength and protection.
The crisp feel of autumn leaves beneath her toes surprised the girl with its eerily familiar crunch, their texture rough against the naked skin of her heels. She was unaware for most of her awakening, her cold breath lost in countless thoughts as she struggled to remember her own tongue. She sniffled, the woods so thick that she couldn't see beyond the first stalk of trees and the air so freezing that a fog had formed from her breath when she'd parted her colorless lips. She swallowed to soothe the dry ache in her throat before looking back up, the moon still teasing her escalating curiosity as it lay still and clear through the only opening in the tree tops for, as far as she could tell, miles.
She set a hand against one, the bark hard...and it took the child a moment to remember why the texture was so familiar...and what it was called. Her breathing was finally even, eyes still staring at that lone source of light as endless woodland banter echoed in the distance. Her attention continued to waver, confusion and the strong memories of general knowledge forming within her mind at a painfully slow pace that only tortured the girl more.
You are Hallow.
Breathing hitched...she heard it. She was stunned as he spoke to her...his existence suddenly known in her developing mind as the light reached to her transparent form with his words.
You are the keeper of Hallow's Eve.
Her head began to hurt...and every memory of the previous keeper flooded her thoughts in a wave of despair, realization, and fear. Stingy Jack, a tricky blacksmith who'd enjoyed his share of pranks too often to be safe. After his 'retirement', along with the denial of passage to a proper afterlife, he was made a guardian as the last resort for his soul. And as of late...he was finally free to dissipate into nothing but dying beliefs; he had faded because he was no longer real...not even to the Guardians. Hallow was his replacement, because it was required and a holiday could not be left without watch. But she feared, because no one had heard of her...the though of fading away just as quickly as she'd come still forcing her longing questions to hesitate against the white of her lips.
Hallow.
The Man in the Moon had repeated her name faintly, his tone a mere whisper against her ears as it had even the first time.
She immediately understood, her lungs finally discovering the air to expel her inquiries without fear.
"Why me?" She'd asked so thoughtlessly, his reply simply a silence filled with nothing but stiff, cold, wind. A chill caught the girl off guard, and her arms quickly wrapped around her shivering form as the leaves blew with the gusts of air and tickled her ankles. Her rags whipped around in the breeze, and she realized she was not normal.
Purple eyes caught sight of her hands as she made an attempt at warming herself. They were...near invisible. A small dim outline running along her skin and clothes, ensuring that a figure could be seen upon her arrival. Were all people...transparent?
No. Hallow remembered that well. They were different colors; maybe pale or dark or tanned, but she...she was...nothing. Her balance had wobbled in a step as her foot set itself firmly on something rounded, the solid feel of the wood too smooth to be a simple stick. She bent down and clutched it in her grasp, the object covered in leaves and ruffling as Hallow pulled it further into her view. A broom. A broom?
A broom.
Simple, sturdy...floating. A small hand, gripping it as tightly as possible, was raised with the object...a sensation of completion unfolding within the depths of her tiny body just by the mere feel of the utensil as her toes left the moist ground. Despite its abilities it was old...sturdy and made of wood and thin branches that were wrapped to the end of the stick with a thick, brown cloth. Crooked; imperfect. She enjoyed it, and as it rose higher the youth pulled her weight up and straddled it to keep balance...as one would a horse.
A horse. She didn't know how she knew that...she just knew what a horse was. And she knew she liked them as well.
And the question of 'why?' became repetitive with each evening that the moon was full.
He never once answered her questions. He simply watched, and she knew it too.
She never once spoke to the moon again after their first encounter, after her becoming. She paid no attention to him...she had people to entertain and preparations to make during the year. She had thoughts to...think over. She was not a 'named' Guardian...but Hallow simply watched over her beloved holiday, making sure that the children were happy and devious in their fun that maturity and age squandered.
The children meant so much to her, their laughter and mischief and brightly contagious smiles upon the evening of Halloween. She took care of them and their sweetened needs and cravings for fruit and breads and candies on that one day. Their laughter was even better than their smiles; their squeals and hums were pleasant and the single day that belonged to her caused them. She enjoyed it despite her own youth; the girl was still 'young' even after two hundred years. Young enough to enjoy the meager tricks paid to those who had no spirit for the holiday, costing them time or tolerance.
Of course this earned her a prime spot on North's naughty list...but that was the fun of it! The looks of unsure disappointment that were a mix of humor and concern.
"You must find your center..." He'd told her upon their very first meeting as he stitched together a rag-doll bear. Little did the Russian know at the ghost's center was deviance; not necessarily ruthless deviance...but fun or casual abnormalities that defied the average actions within society. She cared no more of opinions than she did about Christmas. Yet, one would expect such a ruffian to have a carefree personality. No, she was often quiet. Only expressive upon absolute comfort or within the safe and nonjudgemental confines of her mind.
"Trick of treat!" Simultaneously they all sang it with a form of excitement that Hallow genuinely appreciated, a form of exasperation that beckoned her attention. The woman inside gave them each a measly, worn-down button...and Hallow could envision herself frowning as the children's shoulders slumped slightly in disappointment at such incivility. Her holiday was for sweets! Not useless household items meant to pose as insults!
Of course nothing was fancy at this time. The year was early into the 1800's...a year which always slipped her playful mind that was consistently wrapped around deceit. Either way...a treatless Halloween was unacceptable. Rude, inadmissible, and aberrant!
She flew forward, feet dangling and toes barely skimming the dirt as she approached and swiftly phased through each child as if the wind, this thin sparkle of mischief glowing faintly within their eyes as she granted their imaginations to run humorously wild. This was, after all, trick or treat.
The woman quickly scurried from inside her cabin yelling as the children released the hitch on her front gate, the cow shuffling out with a ringing bell on its neck to warn her of some upcoming calamity. She quickly took off after it, and Hallow swiftly carried forth three peaches from the home with a content expression; hands being held forward as an offering to the kids as they shared a laugh. She had hoped that they would accept her...she prayed that they would appreciate her.
The first observation as the first blonde child turned around was her transparent form...she was clear and see through and...a ghost. Through the years she had earned herself many names or references of legends: witch, ghost, phantom. All terms of fear or mockery that she'd become accustom to. Blue eyes widened and his laughter ceased, expression quickly fearful and face pale. His second companion did the same, and third simply went silent.
So, as expected, the children ran. Only the third staying behind with a gaping mouth to admire her unique appearance. It was reassuring to see that they all believed...but...they ran. They always ran.
"Wow, you-...you're a ghost!" The boy yelled a little too loudly and ran forward, the thought of trick or treat less than exciting by this point. His clothes were rags, his sweets bucket a hollowed out turnip with a carved evil face and his feet were naked on the dirt. His hair was a rugged mess of greasy red and the freckles on his nose crinkled as he sniffed from the cold. She smiled warmly, and he held out his little turnip bucket expectantly of the fruit in her palms.
Hallow didn't like turnips...she would have to change it, preferably to pumpkins one of these days. She liked pumpkins. And although they were much more popular in the Western part of the world, they were her favorite.
"Here." Her voice...it was whispy. It was like a faint echo barely capable of holding a steady tone. It made him flinch back a bit, despite the soft expression of love in her face. That had always been vague, usually going unnoticed for obvious reasons. She appeared dead, something she'd assumed that the Moon hadn't intended.
"That's bloody amazing!" Purple eyes widened a bit as her grin grew, surprise still evident by this boy's outgoing behavior. Fearless, and confident even as she came closer and dropped the peaches into his hollow turnip with care.
She smiled again, and in response he laughed a bit and thanked her before turning heel and taking off to go gloat at his friends in hopeful excitement. He had stayed and received something worth while, while the others had taken off in fright of her arrival.
Despite all of their fear...she loved the children with all of her soul. Fear did nothing...it only beckoned a lowly creature into her territory. His eerie presence made her stiffen; she didn't like his company much less his powers. Her bright mood of play and fun was eradicated upon his visit.
"I see it never changes?" Such a snide remark, she noted, came from behind her. The chuckles that followed it making her rigid in caution. His voice was so twisted with sarcasm and suggestion that she could never truly be sure of the actual intentions of his words. He swung around, the fluid movements seeming too surreal to be so unnaturally evil as he inspected the unbothered countenance she wore. The pearly teeth that dug roughly into her bottom lip and the scrunching of her petite nose that implied irritation made up such a daring face. He couldn't have cared less.
"Pitch..." That was her first mistake; how unintentionally shaken she seemed as Hallow sputtered his name. His smile stretched slowly, that sound so obviously enticing to the man that she assumed couldn't last a day without hearing the sound of his own voice.
"I figured you'd be out West." In the rising America, Hallow'd thought. With countless children that seemed to outnumber what few adults that'd originally settled there. Europe apparently wasn't safe from his touch either, nor had China, Australia, or Russia been. He was this bellowing plague of insufferable arrogance and pompous egoism. Focused on only encasing the world in his detrimental fear.
"I decided to...delay such a trip." It was not any form of verbal speech, it was a hiss of darkness that she'd found to be nothing short of a threat.
"And why come to me?" Sounding calm had seemed easier in her head, even with that ghostly overtone she held...that whisper she would echo seemed like the sweetest sound in comparison to his own. Still he seemed throughly amused by her inquiries, the sheer expression of daring confidence she forced meaning nothing with that slight break in her voice. It was oddly endearing.
"It hasn't become obvious?" Another smirk, so haughty and pressing as he leaned forward to meet her slanted gaze. He was so much taller, and it irked her to no end. She had to tilt her head to even steal a glance at his ugly mug.
"Apparently not." Her answer forced on a frown. A simple success that she basked in for only a moment. He circled her as if a predator, and in this situation he truly was. Nimble fingers traced the curve of her throat as he pulled her closer from behind. His touch felt like acid, and she felt like a stiffened brick set into the concrete of fear.
"...Curiosity." It was a whispered breath that flowed smoothly past her hair and into her ear. Curiosity?
"I have no current nor previous life. I see no reason to be curious, Pitch." Had he not been so confident he would have winced at the sound of his belittled name. Yet he didn't. Everyone feared him...even that damn tooth fairy feared him. Pitch had no reason to not be confident.
"Curious as to why you continue your feeble attempts at surviving when no one believes in you, darling." Again so snide.
"Hmm. Now you've made me curious." She pulled his grasp away swiftly, turning to face the Bogeyman with the most courageous and impulsive look she could manage. Not that it did much, considering she appeared no older than a mere teenager and had the eyes of a woman who lived on her own desperation. Though he knew she was anything but.
He only laughed at such an attempt of fearlessness, striding forward in one quickened step. His palm encircled her chin, fingers pressed into the soft chubbiness of her cheeks and eyes focusing on the suddenly pursed form of her lips.
It wasn't often that he felt lust...but the amount didn't matter. It was simply the disgustingly truthful fact that he felt it even if only on rare occasions. This was unfortunately one of them. But...how could he not? Such an adorable toy, obviously fearful of him yet unwilling to admit it in any form. A challenge is how he saw it. Something he wanted to-no...something he needed to break.
Even as he smoothed his thumb over the lightly speckled skin beneath her eye, he felt the relentless compulsion to crack such a porcelain-like doll. There was so much to someone so seemingly lifeless. So many little and visible things that beckoned questions; that rounded scar on her forehead, the need to appear strong, that distant look in her stare. It made him observe her further, tightening his grip only slightly to bring her face closer to his own.
She surprisingly did not struggle, but only glowered in begrudging resentment while meeting the warm gold of his eyes as he lifted her an inch off the ground by her chin. Her grip around the handle of her broom became tight, the loosened crack of her knuckles exposing the concealed discomfort she'd refused to show him.
Another smirk of pride, so uncomfortably close to her own pursed frown that it felt like some odd violation of her being. His other hand pushed transparent lochs of hair behind her ear, and a flashback from a nightmare seemed to return to haunt her. Hallow swallowed thickly and Pitch noticed, responding with a faint breath that skimmed her nose with the warm smell of pine. Disgusting despite how realistically pleasant it was. At first glance one would assume he'd carry the stench of death...but nothing of the sort.
"My dear Hallow, while my curiosity is but a mere game, yours...will get you killed." He set a kiss upon her forehead, the press eerie and gentle as she felt his smile spread against her skin. A shiver of plain fear rattled through her bones, and she quickly used her ability; allowing him to phase though her already transparent body, earning a rather startled and mildly irritated look from the other Guardian. She stepped back from him in urgency and responded with a gaze of thick, unwavering hatred. Her own form of a warning; reminding him of what little power she held, and what little power she could use.
"I have work to do. It's Halloween...there are children to-"
"-Terrify?" He mocked, merely toying with her emotions as one cruelly would an animal, his frustration dissolved at the opportunity of derision.
"To care for." She snapped back, and in one flighty gust of wind he found her gone. Rags, hair, broom and all.
This was fun, he'd concluded. Bothering Hallow was so, much, fun.
~End Chapter One
A request for; Detailed-Reaper. Happy birthday, I hope it's what you were looking for! c;
I saw this movie about a month ago, give or take, and loved it. Enough to want to read the novels. 'The Guardians of Childhood' book series is supposedly amazing and worth while, taking place about 200 years before the movie. Yes, awesome sounding.
Anyway, I know my Transformer followers will look at their emails and more than likely pass this one by (which I really don't mind considering we all have our own taste in fandoms), but it was a request, and since I do happen to know Detailed-Reaper personally...I felt obligated to do it as quickly as possible for her birthday and Christmas. Plus the movie was great and I loved the bad guy enough to create a pairing...as always. Pft.
As a final note; Late Merry Christmas, Hanukkah, and/or Kwanzaa! Hope your holiday goes smoothly and joyous! c:
Please Review?