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The Frog Prince

"Bow to your prince..."

0 · 355 views · located in The Queen's Castle

a character in “Dark Tale”, as played by Sonata

Description

The Frog Prince

Image


Name: Frosch (Prince Emmanuel Beyer)
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Height: 7'3" (6’2”)
Weight: 535 lbs. (175lbs.)
Personality: The prince has grown bitter and wicked since the day he was transformed into a monster. Before, he used to weep when people would run from him frightened. He still clung to his humanity. On the inside, he was still a prince! After spending years as a monstrosity, the names people would call him, the way people would treat him, what was left of the prince within him was rotting away. His conscience was beginning to warp, becoming what everyone said he was: a monster. He was becoming what his reflection in the lake always portrayed him to be. And now that is who he is.

Emmanuel is now a walking nightmare. When Fantasia fell into darkness, he was the monster devouring those who had once despised him. He has long lost his appreciation for human food. When he gazes at fine wine and roast, he doesn’t smell or see anything desirable as he once did, but flesh is another thing. As a frog, he not only just enjoys the slurp and crunch of insects and vermin, but the chomp and chew of human meat.

Frogs follow him around and bask in his presence for the prince has become their prince. He is the frog prince! The amphibians watch as he devours humans left and right, humans that once fried, boiled, and ate them as fancy dishes. The prince adored the appreciation of his amphibious subjects, plummeting further from humanity until he no longer thought he was ever a man. He had forgotten who he was.

Though now a monster, the prince's self-conceited attitude still lingers. He is arrogant and cocky, willing to take any job for nothing seems too difficult to him. He feels invincible as long as his frog subjects keep praising him. He has become numb to insults though flattery is something he takes to heart; and if pissed off, he won't hesitate to lick the face from a person's skull.

Likes: Women, eating others, amphibians, bugs, ponds, and flattery.
Dislikes: Peasants, insults, frog legs or frog dishes, and people who murder his frog subjects.
Psychological Disorder(s): Trust issues, pride, self-loathing, and superiority complex. The prince often listens to his frog subjects. They have become his manipulative family and know how to pull the prince's strings. He is afraid that they may abandon him if he doesn't listen to them for they regarded him as a prince and not a monster.
Background: Once upon a time, there lived a prince in a glorious castle. He was handsome and wealthy, and felt that he could have anything he so desired: the hearts of women, riches, and endless pleasantries. One day, a dark woman floated through his bedroom window. She glowed like the moon and had wings as black as night. She told him that if he slept with her and was able to please her, then she would bestow upon him great power. The prince was unconvinced at first, feeling cautious of the fairy, but she wasn't only beautiful but clever. She had learned of the prince's behavior one night when she attended one of his formal parties in disguise. She knew he was arrogant, and so told him that if he didn't think he was good enough, then she would leave. The prince annoyed with the fairy and eager to prove her wrong, took her into his bed.

The prince knowing he had beaten her at her own game demanded that she give him the great power she had promised, but the fairy was sour. No human had ever won. Instead of giving the prince great power, she instead left him with a curse. She told the prince that he would soon see what she had given him and left.

The next few days, the prince began to notice his changes. No longer could he taste his fine food and his skin was beginning to turn green. Growing fearful of his new disease, he cancelled his parties, meetings, and hid away in his room, continuing to transform and grow until he was no longer a human. The prince had become a monster. His servants no longer recognized him and refusing to believe he was the prince, he was chased from his kingdom. The world around him saw him only as a monster; and over the years, the prince had become exactly that. It was when the new queen had taken the throne that the prince unleashed his anger and went on a rampage, devouring humans left and right. Frogs began to praise him and follow him around, calling him their prince. The prince soon grew drunk with the power that was given to him by the fairy, and thanks to his amphibious subjects, they had told him of her whereabouts. The prince found the fairy in the castle of another prince and snatched her from him with his tongue. The frog prince fled into the night having eaten the fairy and satisfied his revenge.

He was now Frosch, The Frog Prince, unaware that his loyal servant Heinrich was searching for him with the intention to cure him.

Frosch's Appearance: Frosch is about the height of a door and his warty skin is smooth, slick, and rippling with muscles. Veins run across his arms as he stands slightly hunched over. His massive fists have sharp, protruding nails with webbing between each of his fingers. His chest and upper abdominal muscles are solid but his stomach is globular and bloated, hanging over his black, shredded trousers. His mouth is wide with a few canines poking out like an ogre. The large, black warts that cake his back, calves, and arms are tough enough to stop a blade if ever he is attacked from behind and secrete a mucus that can be sticky as well as poisonous if touched. The length of Frosch's tongue can reach extraordinary lengths. His longest is five yards. Frosch carries a foul odor that isn't pleasant around others, but he could care less.

Partner: Heinrich – NPC – Emmanuel’s servant that is searching for him. He sympathizes with the prince and has his cure.
Weaponry: Tongue, venom, appetite, strength and frog servants.

Powers

Devour - as a frog, the prince can devour almost anything. People, weapons, magic, if it goes into his mouth, chances are, it won’t be seen again.
Venom – A disgusting sludge the frog will spew from his mouth to coat anything in its path and reduce it to nothing.
Mucus Guard – The frog can secrete a sticky film that covers his body and acts like a glue to cling to several things.
Tongue Lash – The frog’s tongue is dangerous. It is what he uses to snatch up food.
Vocal Shield – The frog’s vocal sac swells and deflates when he is croaking, but it can also swell to become a shield against frontal attacks.
Leap, Climb, & Cling – The frog can leap great distances and cling to large buildings.
Frog Form - The prince can take on the form of a common frog.
Water Absorption – When in frog form, the prince can reach colossal heights if exposed to a body of water. His body absorbs the water and thus increases his size, but when not around water for too long, he’ll shrink back into a dinky frog.
Night Vision - Self-explanatory.
Breathe Underwater - His gills are in the pits of his arms.
Inhuman Strength - About as strong as an ogre. One does not want to get punched by this guy.

Passive traits: The frog carries a foul odor and frogs migrate wherever he goes. He is a prince after all. One may notice the plague of small frogs entering a town or city before they see the beast that’s following.

Frog Form Written Appearance: The frog is small (can be enormous), warty, and one can smell the beast from miles away. He smells like a bog, and it’s even worse when he’s in close proximity. When he’s a tiny frog, it’s not as awful. The frog’s skin is thick with protective black warts and sticky with mucus. The frog is fat and round with a short, tadpole-like tail.

Image


If the prince ever becomes a prince again, well, then this profile will read a bit differently, but for now, he’s this way for whatever events take place IC.

So begins...

The Frog Prince's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: The Snow Queen (Evelia) Character Portrait: The Final Death of the Moon (Death for short) Character Portrait: The Frog Prince Character Portrait: Big Bad Wolf
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And so, the meeting began.

Wolf's icy blue eyes glowed brightly in the dimly-lit room as he sat on the chair to the right of the queen. His movement barely created any noises at all and he closed his eyes, listening to the queen's words as he was deep in thoughts. His mind was a mess right now. The last person he had disguised turned out to be insane and as a result, he was gritting his teeth to endure the torment his mind was going through right now. His fingers, which laid harmlessly on the table, twitched slightly every few seconds and if one looked carefully enough, they might see the sweats that were pouring from his forehead despite the fact that the war room was quite cold. Wolf took a deep breath and tried to ignore his mind as it screamed 'waffles and pancakes' for some strange reasons and his frowned deepened even so slightly as another voice yelled inside his head 'Lemons and orange juice!'. He really should stop disguising as a madman...it really left a bad impact on his mind. He massaged his temper as his fingers twitched again. This time, the voice demanded for blood and sacrifices. He bit his lower lip slightly as he felt his mouth curled into a dark smirk and he depressedly held himself together and kept his emotionless mask on.

“Dear members of the Court, it has come to my attention that a rebellion is stirring in Fairy Woods, we must shut this down before it takes on a larger form that even we cannot destroy. Knowing this, I must hear what role each of you plan to take in the Dark Court. What areas of the Kingdom you intend to guard as your own quadrant, and most importantly… who will lead our forces into the woods to make quick work of the vermin?”

Finally, his queen had raised her angelic voice. Wolf opened his eyes and set his face into a calm expression as he folded his hands neatly in front of him, pondering on her words. Hmm...another rebellion? So soon after the last one...He tapped his cheek with his index finger as his mind - the sane part of his mind, wandered on its own again. Well, obviously, there was nothing much he could do beside spying and collecting information. He could lead the army and squash the rebellion with the information he collected but he wouldn't do it. He knew his boundaries and his abilities and while leading an army seemed like a tempting suggestion, his reputation as well as the queen's trust on him could be ruined if he failed. As the queen said something about guarding areas, Wolf looked at the map laying in the center of the table, in front of him and he studied it with a raised eyebrow. Well, East and West were too much for him seeing that he was not much of a fighter and was more of a strategist and information expert. Those two parts of the kingdom were always tensed and ready to go to war at any seconds...He sent a look at Frosch - the frog prince as he calculated his next move. Obviously, Frosch suited the role better than Wolf. His eyes shifted slightly as he observed the next two parts of the map - the South and the North. To be perfectly honest, he preferred the warm weather of the South more than the cold, harsh weather of the North. Plus, South always seemed to be quite peaceful, suitable for someone with Wolf's fighting skill. He nodded his head slightly. That settled it then...he would be the one who guarded South...with the Queen's permission of course... He raised his head as Death the talking white wolf spoke softly.

''My Queen...I may be able to gather animals for your army.''

Wolf raised an eyebrow as he looked at the white thing in front of him. 'For someone with the intelligence the size of a normal animal, she decides fast...' The cocky, unstable part of his mind whispered hastily. Wolf suppressed a smirk...It was true...to some certain extend...because after all, he was a wolf, too...though he had taken the form of a human, he still used to be a wolf like her. 'That's not true...I always know we are special...more special than any other animals...' Another voice said and Wolf gave a small, barely noticeable nod as if he agreed with the voice. 'you shouldn't be too cocky...focus on the matter or the Queen will be displeased...' A serious voice said as Wolf's thoughts became jumbled...again. Wolf coughed slightly, trying to clear his voice and at the same time, paying attention on the meeting. His eyes shifted from one person to another as he decided to speak up at last...

"...your highness...as a master of disguise and information expert...I believe the role that suits me best is collecting information and plans of those...talking things as well as their silly rebellion...I will do my best to bring the most reliable information back to you..."

Wolf sneered at the word 'talking things' as it left a bad taste in his mouth. Those things with the intelligence of an ant... dared to rebel? Who was they kidding? It was a joke...At least the white wolf in front of him now was smarter than all of them combined...He paused, choosing his words carefully as he continued after a minute or so."...and I can help you guard the South part of the kingdom, your highness...the first reason is that I do believe most of the people there have been manipulated by me..."

Tapping a small black spot on the map with his finger, Wolf continued calmly..."as for the second reason...you see this spot? this place is the pigs' place...they can help me by spreading lies and half-truths to the people and report back to me. It is easier than the North, West or East for them as well as myself since their house is in the North part of the country...and the third reason is a minor one...however, it is not any less important than the previous reasons. As you can probably see, your highness, combat skill is not my strong point...and the violence on the West, East, and North is always more intensive than the South...I do not think I can handle being in the center of the violence for too long, especially when I have to carry the task of collecting information and resources...as for the final reason...please look at this..."

Wolf tapped the symbol of a castle on the map and then another symbol written 'South Headquarter' He took a deep breath and licked his lips "... the South Headquarter is actually nearest to the castle...if I need to deliver some important information, I can make it in time and probably sooner than any other places..."

He retracted his finger and folded his hands on the table again. Looking at the Queen, he spoke in his usual cold tone of voice he used to deal with the Queen and the generals "...of course, the final decision belongs to you, your highness... this is, after all, just my suggestions and ideas...my thoughts on the most logical course of actions...the rest is up to you to decide, your highness..."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Vivan (The Faithful Maiden) Character Portrait: The Frog Prince
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#, as written by Sonata
The Prince’s Chamber; and then finally, the War Room

The maid passed through the halls, totting a steel bucket of beetles, worms, centipedes, and creatures that often spread their glossy wings to land upon her cheek. She squeaked as she shook her head wildly, her cinnamon strands flaring. The roach calmly fled her cheek before she slapped it and brushed her hair behind her ears. She had pulled the shortest straw, and though she had thought goblins made the best servants for a monster, here she was with the prince’s lunch. Most women would have screamed, cried, and begged for mercy upon seeing the bucket of insects she was carrying, but Catherine had been a servant of the Dark Court ever since her home was overtaken by evil merchants, and since she was sold into slavery. Catherine had never laid eyes on the frog prince before, although she had heard terrifying stories about him. Stories like how he had devoured one of the imps for accidently stepping on one of his frogs. In fact, stories about him devouring servants were quite common.

As Catherine carried the pail, her skin broke out in goose bumps and felt chilled despite the black sleeves of her dress, hugging them snuggly. The white apron that tied about her neck was smudged with the mud from the gardens when a previous servant before her had the duty of filling the bucket. She wouldn’t have minded filling the bucket if it was to spare her from being eaten by a monster prince, but then again, she might not have enjoyed the toiling work. Her gingerbread eyes gazed down into the crawling bucket, her face paling the longer she focused on the squelches and clicking of the creatures within.

With a foul odor building in the hallway, it became evident to Catherine that she was nearing the prince’s room. The smell was rancid, wet like a swamp and almost humid. She came before a door the color of human excrement and gazed upon the bronze knob that looked covered in some sort of greenish-brown sludge. Catherine reached out to grasp the knob, but then thought against it—her fingers clapping against her palm as she retracted her attempt. The pail lolled in her right hand like a weight as night crawlers pelted the black carpet and crane flies dispersed from it with the grace of pixies. Slipping her hand beneath her apron, Catherine grasped the slimy doorknob, feeling the moisture begin to seep through the material and pushed open the door. As it opened, her hand immediately abandoned the knob as her forearm rose to cover her nose, trying desperately to protect it from the funk that dumped from the prince’s chamber like a hot deluge.

“Ugh,” Catherine said in disgust.

The chirps of the frogs were like crickets singing in the night. The maid’s eyes lowered to the floor of the dimly lit room. A window veiled by a white, tissue-thin curtain bathed the interior in a deep blue as the silhouettes of amphibians of several sizes became accentuated by the golden light of the oil lamps that spilled into it from the hall. There was no furniture in the room. There was ivy along the white marble floors, a few bird baths that had frogs soaking in them. A dark pool was before the window with the curtain and the far right-most wall was a bed of tall grass. The prince was nowhere to be found.

That relieved Catherine as she sighed and kicked the door closed with the heel of her laced boots. She started over toward the pool, suspicious that it might have been too good to be true. The frogs watched her silently, their eyes upon the bucket. One hungry tree frog leapt from his perch on a bird bath to plop into the bucket of bugs, the noise startled the maid as she stopped and peered down at the creature.

In a flash, Catherine felt a breeze travel across her skin. She blinked her wide, copper eyes as they moved from the tree frog over to her flat tummy and the black lingerie that cupped her breasts and hugged her hips. The maid dropped the bucket in fright as she whirled around to gaze back at the door. Her arms crossed about her bosom as she glanced to her left and then right. A clear, cool fluid dripped from the ceiling to glide down the right side of her nose and dribble down into her tight cleavage. Her gown then dropped from the ceiling like a black and white blanket and slowly her eyes rose to gaze upon the back of a creature.

The back she gazed upon was covered in black, bulging warts that dripped with a slime that hung from its back in clear ribbons. The beast uttered a low croak that made her lips tremble until a shriek climbed its way free from her throat. A head budded into her sights as two glossy, yellow eyes gazed down at her.

Catherine’s mouth opened in terror. A shriek was building in her throat as her legs instantly became weak with fear and collapsed beneath her. The back of her hand rose inches before her lips as she bit back the scream that escaped her on timid whimpers.

The creature had been eying her quietly until her silence made him giggle. “Is this how you greet a prince?”

It then dawned on her that this monster upon the ceiling was The Frog Prince. Fearfully, Catherine lowered her hand and pleaded, “Forgive me, My Prince for we have never met!” She wasn’t sure what the right words were to say to such a creature. “I-I have a message!”

“Pick up the bucket,” the prince’s low voice demanded.

Catherine, feeling her muscles quivering, crawled over to the bucket on her hands and knees. There were numerous frogs huddled about it, gobbling up the bugs that had spilled free. She took the bucket slowly, making sure not to dump the rest of its contents out and held it within both of her hands. The prince’s cold tongue reached down to wrap about her, spiraling up her waist and across her bra before she was lifted to the ceiling. Catherine yelped and clung to the bucket until the prince’s large arm wrapped about her, and she settled upon his smooth pectorals. She clasped her hand over her nose and mouth as she thought she might puke. He smelt of garbage: eggs, rotten meat, and old sweat. Her thighs clinched tightly together as she gazed upon his mug. His wide mouth curled with delight and his eyes gleamed like amber. His pink tongue flicked out of his mouth to drag along his left eye as a string of slime snapped free upon its return into his maw.

“Since when did they start sending me humans? I’ve had only devils, imps, goblins, and gnomes, but humans? It must be my birthday,” said the prince as his chest quaked beneath the maid with his laughter. “Reach your hand into the bucket and feed me some of those delectable vermin. As you do, convey your message.”

Catherine lowered her shaking hand from her mouth and she reached deep into the bucket, frowning in disgust at the handful of worms and beetles she withdrew. She held her hand out to the prince as his mouth opened to clamp upon it. She felt his tongue scrape the bugs from her palm as she then removed her hand from his mouth to gaze upon the thick saliva that dripped like syrup from her fingers. It made her nose wrinkle in disgust, and as the prince munched audibly on his meal, Catherine suddenly remembered his request.

“The queen requests a meeting with all the members of the Dark Court,” she reported. She slipped her hand into the bucket to gather another handful that she held out to him.

“Mm,” the beast hummed with intrigue. He snagged the next handful from her hand and resumed his crunching. “If she requests the entire court, then it must be urgent.”

The prince’s vocal sac abruptly billowed enormously. Catherine pressed her hand against it as it nearly pushed her from his chest. A low croak escaped him before a belch gusted into the maid’s face as his sac deflated. Its volume made her wince as it left the prince’s throat like a deafening blast and speckled her bare skin in bits of worm, chitin, and wings. She then squealed in protest when his tongue lapped along her tummy and then up her bosom to her face, collecting the bits of insect.

The prince’s arm looped about her waist as he detached from the ceiling flipping right side up to land upon the floor with a thud that shook his entire room. The pail had tipped over to spill the rest of the insects across the floor before clattering off into a corner. The frogs crowded the spill as the prince released Catherine. She slid down his chest and round belly until she slumped to her knees at his feet. With an unenthusiastic sigh, the prince stepped past the maid over to his bedroom door.

“You will be my servant. If anyone else comes here, I will cook them in my bowels. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Catherine answered. She must have been cursed. What misfortune made her the primary servant of the prince?

The prince left the room, leaving the door ajar as his amphibian subjects hopped after him. He strode down the hall. His shredded trousers swaying against his thick, green legs and his massive hands dangled at his sides. His eyes blinked leisurely, seeming to meld into his skull before they swelled like two bumps upon his head. His black warts protruded from his shoulders like mountains descending down his back, and freshwater weed dangled from his navel.

The War Room

By the time the prince had arrived at the War Room, flies had gathered about his head and shoulders and the halls of the castle were permeated in his stench. His webbed feet slapped upon the marble floors of the conference hall, the sight of the queen, exciting the corners of his mouth to twist with devious content.

The prince then leapt toward the smooth table with the map of Fantasia sprawled across it. His form swiftly shrank into a round, ball of a frog that landed on the table with a splat. His frog subjects were entering the room behind him in waves, occupying the chair behind him, its armrests, and some joining him upon the table.

He had arrived just in time, and never too soon to stink up the room with his putrid perfume. He had chosen his frog form because his stench wasn’t as potent, but knowing that he was present was very evident. One just needed to breathe his very air.

As the mouse eavesdropped on The Dark Court, a large horned frog hopped in front of her. Its yellow eyes offered her a side glance, the hunger it felt when gazing upon her gleaming in them. The frog didn’t move. It instead waited to see if she’d twitch a muscle, which would be its cue to snap her up.

The meeting so far was sounding like a situation Goldilocks and her ward could handle on their own. Frosch was the size of a bull frog, his girth comfortably spread about him, making him resemble an amphibious blob, but he was quite comfortable as he listened to The Wolf go on in his strategic nonsense. All the queen had to do was tell him to handle it, and the prince would. His eyes sank back into his head as he kept his thoughts to himself. His attendance almost seemed like a waste of time. The meeting had interrupted his fun with his new servant.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Goldielocks Character Portrait: The Final Death of the Moon (Death for short) Character Portrait: The Frog Prince Character Portrait: Little Match Girl Character Portrait: The Wolf
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#, as written by Sonata
The War Room

The wicked queen calmly sat at the head of the table, lavishing her attention on none of the beings that sat before her. Her head was held high upon her long, stark-white neck, her brown eyes half-lidded beneath a thick fan of lashes. She listened first to Goldilocks’s pet and replied facetiously, “I do hope so. We can’t have a war without soldiers now can we?”

Fool. Only an employ of one of her generals would make such an obvious proposal. “Goldie, dear; please don’t bring your pets to the table next time.”

A soft and proud smile curled at the rose-red lips of the queen. She was a cold woman and expected only clever suggestions in her War Room. The Wolf was next. He seemed overprotective as usual. The castle and its regions were nowhere near in danger. The uprising was hardly what it sounded to be. Goldilocks seemed to echo similar sentiments as her pet.

The queen closed her eyes and opened them in a matter unlike a normal, swift blink.

“I would like to see this uprising,” the wicked queen said. “Mirror; my love; my darling; come here please.”

From the thick shadows behind the queen came the sound of heavy footsteps. The light from the candelabras hanging above the conference table flashed across the glossy face of a full-body mirror. The mirror approached the table on four lion paws sculpted from white marble and stopped once it was next to its master. The queen scooted back in her chair and turned to face the creature. She rested her fingers upon its back, lightly stroking its spine.

The mirror was beautiful, burnished, and without a sharp or jagged edge. She found herself caught up in its touch. The stone was eerily warm as though it was flesh and she wrapped her black lace-covered arms about its mane. Her breasts squishing against its flank as her black satin gown pooled at her feet.

“There are creatures who seek to oppose me. Mirror, show them to me so that I may destroy them,” the queen asked.

She released the mirror and slid back into her seat. The mirror leapt onto the conference table as its weighted landing resonated throughout the room. A few frogs had tumbled from the table, due to the vibrations and startle. The lion mirror stood in the presence of The Dark Court. Its marble tail flicked about as though it were living before it settled upon its belly. It raised its head, directing its long, oval face toward the ceiling. It then sank into the table until its glass face could be seen by all who sat around the table.

The mirror flashed and presented a small army of beasts led by a black unicorn marching through the Fairy Woods. There had to be one hundred, and they were advancing on Goldilocks’s animal slave camps to free their brethren.

The black unicorn stopped. His red eyes were wide and triangular ears perked in alert.

“What’s wrong my lord?” a buck questioned.

The black unicorn’s nostrils flared as he snorted uncomfortably. “There’s…there’s a disturbance…”

The buck spread his own ears and turned his head left and right, listening to the woods. “I hear nothing.”

The black unicorn’s hoof stomped the earth. “It’s magic. We’re being watched.”

His horn then began to turn black before a black orb began to fill the mirror, blinding the arcane eye of The Dark Court. The wicked queen frowned and rose abruptly to her feet. She couldn’t believe the magic of a unicorn was able to block the all-seeing eye of her mirror.

The wicked queen looked to Goldilocks, her eyes glinting with accusation. She pointed a manicured claw across the table at her and said ominously, “This is your problem. Do what you must to fix it, but you will bring me the unicorn alive. If not, bring me his horn!”

She lowered her hand. “The rest of you do as you wish…”

The queen then noticed Adeen in the back and she regarded the girl in momentary silence. Her painted lips then curled into an impish smile as she crossed her arms beneath her bosom, gazing at Adeen with much interest.

“Goldie, dear, be sure to take Adeen with you. She loves to burn things and what better to set fire to our enemies…and their home (Fairy Woods).”

The mirror climbed out of the table and approached its queen. She rested her hand upon its shoulder, petting him tenderly.

“My poor baby…did he hurt you? He won’t do so for long. We’ll get him,” she cooed to her mirror. As the mirror hopped down from the table, the queen turned her back to those in meeting. “This meeting is dismissed.”

She and her mirror then eluded into the shadows, vanishing from the room.

The frog prince gazed at Goldilocks and smirked. He knew how she always detested him and his frog servants. How he had control of all the frogs in Fantasia. He knew that she had tried to win the loyalties of his servants once, but she was not a frog. He was their only prince. She had often flaunted how she had control of all the animals in Fantasia, but here they were revolting.

“Your power is waning,” the prince taunted. “Little girls should stick to their toys and let the adults handle adult problems. I would have that unicorn’s head on a platter and his army in my belly.”

Because you are our prince! a frog chirped.

Yes, our powerful prince! croaked another.

The queen should have sent you, Sire!

Frosch grinned arrogantly at Goldilocks, flaunting triangular rows of teeth.




The horned frog that had been watching Vivian hopped after her as soon as he saw her flee. He stopped before a mouse hole, gazing down at the hole that he was too big to even attempt to squeeze inside. Upon hearing the praises of his prince, the frog turned and hopped away back towards the conference table.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: The Snow Queen (Evelia) Character Portrait: Goldielocks Character Portrait: The Frog Prince Character Portrait: Little Match Girl
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The mirror's appearance and subsequent movement onto the table did not cause Adeen to stir. Her only movement were her eyes flicking over the glossy surface and skimming over its features. However, when the mirror's face shimmered and revealed the black unicorn and his followers, she leaned forward slightly to get a closer look. He cantered forward in strong, even steps and the power that lay throughout the animal was evident - more so when he broke the sight of the Queen's mirror.

Adeen sat back, pondering about the unicorn and the growing amount of rebels but keeping an eye on the queen and an ear open to her orders. Only moments after, she saw the queen's eyes gaze on her and she immediately focused on the present, standing at attention. "Goldie, dear, be sure to take Adeen with you. She loves to burn things and what better to set fire to our enemies... and their home." At those words, Adeen's eyes gleamed with suppressed eagerness and her lips curled up into a small smile. Soon she would be able to put some rebels to the flames. Finally, she would be able to do something. She bowed her head as the queen left and then turned her scrutiny to the frog prince and Goldilocks.

"Excuse my interruption," she said, her voice in a quiet volume she preferred, but uttered in a way that carried her voice clearly to the intended recipients. "But Her Majesty's mirror showed that those animals were nearly at the camp. I believe we should be going rather than sparing time to talk about who might be better?" The faster they got there, the faster she would be able to watch the lives join together in one magnificent flame. She would be able to watch the rebellion bleed out of their eyes, to become nothing but cold ashes. Soon. First they had to actually leave the castle and head out.

The setting changes from The Queen's Castle to Brogdin

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: The Snow Queen (Evelia) Character Portrait: Goldielocks Character Portrait: The Frog Prince Character Portrait: Lil' Bo Peep
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#The Queen's Castle **
Catherine walked up to the Queens chambers but was stopped by a guard. "Your highness!" She yelled as the Queen slightly turned her head. "I have news of the animal rebellion... They are..." She couldn't decide whether to lie or tell the truth. She loved her friends from the animal rebellion and didn't want them to die... But she didn't want to die either. "They are almost at the camp. We should get there as soon as possible. Those useless creatures need to be stopped, I know which area of the forest they are coming from, we can get them before they even strike." She explained. She felt so powerful, just being in the Queen's presence. She pulled on a piece of curly hair hanging by her face. She felt as though the Queen was her mother at that moment and she was just being her perfect daughter. She knows she has no other family than the Queen, so she looked at the guards by the doors and they opened the doors. "Shall we?" She said showing the way of the opened doors.

The setting changes from Brogdin to The Queen's Castle

Characters Present

Character Portrait: The Frog Prince Character Portrait: Lil' Bo Peep
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#, as written by Sonata
Goldilocks

Resting her hands upon the table, the blonde slid from her chair as the Queen concluded the meeting and started for the doors of the War Room. Her blue dress bounced along with her fat, golden curls. She resembled a little girl, but she was much older than she appeared. She stopped when she heard the low voice of The Frog Prince, it sounded like two stones grinding against each other. Her sapphire eyes rolled like two orbs to the corners of her eyes as she turned one over her shoulder to regard the putrid creature seated like a stinking bridge-troll upon the table. His title as a prince was the only thing she would agree with. A prince of frogs and toads and nothing more seemed to suit his status.

“And frogs should remain in the bog, not trouncing around claiming to be princes,” Goldilocks retorted sweetly in her child-like voice.

If the frog prince had brows in his frog form, they would be furrowed as he still managed to retain his smug smile.

“The rebellion is nothing but a game. My pets have bitten the hand that feeds, and they will now be punished.”

Goldilocks marched past Peep without a word. What was the servant going on about? Did she think she was participating in the battle? The Queen had not commanded her to go.

Frosch watched Goldilocks leave and then arched a froggy brow at Peep. “What use is a chambermaid in a battle? The scum around my pool needs to be scrubbed.”

The Frog Prince hopped down from the table and with his amphibian servants springing behind him and took his leave. He uttered a deep croak and yawn. A nap was in order.