A/N: I fully realize that I have not one but THREE stories that are not complete, two of which aren't even halfway done, and I apologize for that. I absolutely loathe authors that don't finish their works and it appalls me that I am one of them.
There are no words for my shame.
Even more so when I'm starting yet another story; this one doesn't even have a determined plot yet.
It's actually more along the lines of a glorified rant in the guise of being a story.
Nevertheless, it popped into my head out of the blue and refuses to shut up.
I get stories like that a lot.
WARNING: I've never really done a story like this before (you'll see what I mean) so prepare yourselves for a rough start.
Please R&R and keep your torches and pitchforks at home, in the shed.
[GOOOOOOD MORNING STORYBROOKE~!]
A sudden and loud voice boomed throughout Emma's room, startling her wide-awake and causing her back to say hello to the floor with a pronounced 'thump'.
"What the hell?" the blonde grumbled as she untangled herself from her sheets to glare at her clock radio. She'd been in the middle of a good dream and out of nowhere this girl's voice piped up to tear her away from it.
[-Wakey~wakey, Brookies! It's a beautiful day out there just waiting for you, so get your butts outta bed and face it head-on!]
Wincing at how loud the voice was, Emma scrambled across the room to turn the damn thing down while vowing under her breath to get Henry for A) setting her alarm to tune to a radio station instead of beeping and B) turning the volume up way too loud.
Rubbing her back, the Sherriff contemplated the voice. It was a girl's voice; early twenties if Emma wasn't mistaken, possibly even a teenager.
Definitely enthusiastic sounding.
Standing there in her sleepwear, the blonde unwittingly, wondered the exact same thing everyone else in Storybrooke was thinking:
Who the hell was talking on the radio?
[Now, I'm sure you're all wondering 'Who this is chick and more importantly what the heck is she doing on the radio', right?]
'Spot on,' Emma thought wryly.
[Well I'll tell ya.]
[Sorta.]
[Let me explain.] She cleared her throat.
[As I'm sure you all remember, a while back Prince Charming made a speech about how 'since we were all stuck in Storybrooke we should try to make the best of it'.]
[Well, that's what I doing: making the best of it.] She sounded very proud of herself.
[And in my eyes, that means doing what I've always dreamed of doing: being a radio show host.]
'You have got to be kidding me,' Emma thought as she stared at the radio as if she could see the DJ herself through the speakers.
[Did you know that Storybrooke had its own radio station?] the voice questioned, [Cuz I sure didn't till a few weeks ago.]
[Yep: found the place, asked the guys here if I could DJ and they said sure. No one else was doing it, so I guess they figured, hey, why not?]
[But I'm digressing; the point is that I'm going to be running a radio show until such a time, as I am unable to.]
[I.e. until someone comes and kicks me out of the recording booth.]
[Most likely our lovely Sherriff.]
[Or Mr. Gold.]
[Or Madame Mayor.]
[Although I guess she isn't the Mayor anymore, is she?]
[Or the Queen.]
[So what should we… And there I go, getting off topic, again. Sorry.]
'I'm noticing a pattern here.'
[What I'm trying to say here, is that in order to keep myself from getting killed, or horribly cursed in some way… More than I already am that is, I'm keeping my ID a secret.]
'Oh joy.'
[For now I'm just gonna settle with being called, I don't know, the Voice of Storybrooke, or something.]
[Cuz that's what I am.]
[And what is this crazy girl gonna do, you ask?]
[I'm gonna talk.]
[Or tell you about the weather and news.]
[Or play some music that's actually decent.]
[Whatever fits my fancy at the time.]
[So~, stay tuned for some music; change the station; or turn off the radio altogether; whatever floats your boat. I'm happy enough with just the fact that you can hear my voice.]
[Actually having you pay attention to it is just a bonus.]
True to the girl's word, music began to pour from the radio's tiny speakers in Emma's bedroom. Turning the radio off, the blonde quietly moseyed downstairs; wondering what in the world had just happened.
Granny's was abuzz with gossip over who had been on the radio this morning. It wasn't even nine o' clock and already people were theorizing about who the girl was and giving their two cents on what they thought of her show.
"Morning Emma!" Ruby called as she walked over with the blonde's daily bear claw.
"Hey Rubes," the Sheriff replied, pulling cash out of her wallet.
"Any ideas on who the 'Voice of Storybrooke' is?" the wolf asked.
Smiling ruefully, Emma replied, "Was hoping you could tell me, O' Queen of the Gossipers."
"Ha ha-very funny. But no, seriously, I've haven't a clue. Which is kinda scary."
"How so?" Emma mumbled around her pastry.
"I know pretty much everyone here; like you said, 'Queen of Gossip', but I don't recognize this girl's voice," Ruby glanced around before leaning over the counter and whispering, "You don't think someone new is in town, do you?"
"I doubt it, Red," Granny said, bullying her way into the conversation. "Didn't you hear what she said? She talked about Charming's speech like she was there, and I think we would've noticed if someone new had been in town for so many weeks."
"So she's a local," Emma concluded.
"Gotta be."
"What are you gonna do about it Emma?" Ruby wondered.
"For now? Nothing. As far as I can tell she hasn't done anything illegal, so really there's nothing I can do. Besides, she seems harmless enough."
Granny suddenly made a dash to the diner's lone radio.
"Speak of the devil- she's back on everybody!" she raised her voice loud enough to be heard on the din of her patrons.
As everyone quieted down, sure enough, there was the Voice of Storybrooke coming in loud and clear through the speakers as Granny turned up the volume.
[-That was some of the greatest hits of the 90's. Good morning once again, Storybrooke! It's shaping up to be a pretty gorgeous day out today. I'm looking at the latest weather report right now and it seems likes we're gonna have a high of 75°and a low of 50 later this evening with some scattered clouds and a slight breeze.]
[In short: my idea of a pretty good day.]
[To those of you just tuning in for the first time today, I'm the SRB's newest radio host, the Voice of Storybrooke.]
[Atleast until I come up with a better name for myself.]
[Or someone comes to kick me off the air.]
[Whichever happens first.]
[Anyhoo; I'm basically gonna be spending the weekday playing some awesome music and talking about whatever piques my interest.]
[Speaking of which; while I was heading over here this morning, I came across a flyer for a missing person, drawn in crayon, and it gave me an idea.]
The Voice seemed to turn serious. [Since the curse broke, and can I just say a HUGE 'thank you' to Sheriff Swan for breaking it~]
The diner erupted into applause and Emma did her best to hide from the adoring crowd.
[-A lot of people, after remembering who we really are, have been having trouble locating their loved ones that they were separated from during the curse.]
[So, here's my idea; since the flyers don't seem to be working super-duper well, this town being a whole lot bigger than it looks, I decided to collect as many different flyers as I can and read them out loud at the top of every hour.]
[If I do, someone is bound to find whom they're missing, or atleast help to point them in the right direction.]
A murmur of agreement and appreciation began to come from the diner's patrons, and Emma herself couldn't help but smile at the Voice's gesture.
[You guys can help as well. If you've lost someone, just call the station and I'll take down a description to read with the rest of the flyers.]
[Entire families have been separated because of the curse for over twenty-eight years, people!]
[And I'm gonna do everything in my power to get them back together again.]
The diner broke into applause again, and the Sheriff could've sworn she saw a few tears being shed.
[Alright Brookies, here we go~! The first flyer here is for a little boy…] the Voice began to read flyer after flyer; saying the person's name, their description, who was looking for them, where to find them, and any other information she could glean from each scrap of paper.
By the time she had read every flyer, over fifteen minutes had passed and Emma had long since lost count of how many names she had said.
Of how many people were lost.
The Voice cleared her throat after a few moments of silence, her voice having broke a few times. Especially the ones for little kids.
[That's all the flyers I have folks right now folks. I'll check in front of town hall again before my next session and see if there are any new ones.]
[If you're one of the people whose name I mentioned today, or if you know someone who was, I urge you to please help put these families back together.]
[And remember; if you're looking for someone, just give the station a call and I'll add his or her name to the list. The number is (604) 277-6828. Again, the number is…] she read the number again before wishing everyone a good day and playing songs from today's Top 40.
The diner, which had been silent the entire time the Voice had been reading names, aside from one or two who had gasped and run out of the diner after hearing a certain name, came back to life and began to talk about the Voice even more than before.
Saying her good-byes to Red and Granny, Emma began to make her way to the front of the diner. Along the way she heard snippets of various conversations concerning the town's newest change.
Some thought that it was a wonderful thing the girl was doing.
Others said that family affairs were private matters and she should mind her own business.
Others still thought it was a plot thought up by Gold or Regina to complete some nefarious scheme.
But out of all the conversations the blonde heard, the most amusing one by far was how some people took to be christened as "Brookies".
A/N: What do ya think? I know. Weird right?
Just randomly popped into my head while I sitting alone in my pole shed.
So.
Worth continuing?
Or am I just kidding myself?
I know this chapter wasn't very funny, but I couldn't work the funnier bits in right off the bat.
As for the whole "Brookies" thing.
I wanted something to call the people of Storybrooke and thought that something like "Storybrookians" was way to freaking long.
Plus: Brookies is funnier. ^w^
Also, FUN FACT:
The first 6 digits of the SRBS (Storybrooke Radio Broadcasting Station)'s number are the legit umbers for Steveston, BC, which is where all the town shots for OUAT is filmed.
As for the last four digits;
Let's just say there is a rhyme to my reason and I'll give you a high five if you can figure it out. ^^