Regina Mills (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
heartinabox) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomtownies2019-07-08 10:18 am
heartinabox) wrote in fandomtownies2019-07-08 10:18 am
Entry tags:
Port of Fandom, Monday, Daytime
The smoke cleared, and just as Regina expected, she found herself standing at a small town harbor instead of in a castle. The only trouble was, it clearly wasn't Storybrooke's harbor. And she was alone.
"Henry?" she called, turning in a slow circle, irritation and panic warring within her. She knew that curse inside and out, had cast it any number of times. Hell, she'd finished it once while her son was actively dying in her arms. She'd been sure her adjustment would work. She looked down, checking her clothing: a stylish pantsuit, sharply cut. Definitely Regina Mills, mayor of Storybrooke, not Roni, bartender, or the Evil Queen. A look around the harbor only helped to further establish that she'd missed her landing. The place was a strange mix of old fashioned and modern more common to Europe than to Maine, and the sky, dark and oppressive with what smelled like coal smoke, seemed more like something out of an old Victorian novel than anything you'd find in a modern town — at least not one where she'd expect to see a "taste of Thai" restaurant.
The castle on the hill above the town didn't exactly scream "real world", either.
"Where the hell am I?" She set her hands on her hips, running the curse she'd cast over in her mind, trying to work out where it might have gone wrong — or been tampered with. She looked around again, this time scanning for any of the various iterations of her son. "HENRY!"
"Regina Mills?"
She jumped and spun, her hand going to her heart, only just stopping herself from summoning a fireball for defense. She glared at the man who'd come up behind her. "Who wants to know?"
The man, unremarkable to a level that was nigh uncanny, wasn't impressed. "The guy who was paid a lot of money to hand this off to a lady on the boardwalk shouting 'Henry', who goes by 'Regina Mills'."
Regina scowled at him, faintly wishing she was still the sort to rip the hearts out of people who irritated her. "Paid by whom?"
The man smiled faintly and held out the envelope. Regina scowled harder and took it, then turned to walk away.
"What," the man asked. "No tip?"
Regina waved him off without turning and examined the parcel. It was a simple, legal sized manilla envelope, addressed to her care of "the Port of Fandom", with no return address. Nothing about it screamed "danger", and it was her only hint as to what the hell had gone wrong, so she slit it open with a fingernail and pulled out the sheaf of papers within. A real estate contract between herself and a name she didn't recognize, detailing the change of hands of a place apparently called "Luke's".
"I own a diner?"
She was missing Seattle already.
[open! Because why not bring in a new character on the first day of Silent Hill?]
"Henry?" she called, turning in a slow circle, irritation and panic warring within her. She knew that curse inside and out, had cast it any number of times. Hell, she'd finished it once while her son was actively dying in her arms. She'd been sure her adjustment would work. She looked down, checking her clothing: a stylish pantsuit, sharply cut. Definitely Regina Mills, mayor of Storybrooke, not Roni, bartender, or the Evil Queen. A look around the harbor only helped to further establish that she'd missed her landing. The place was a strange mix of old fashioned and modern more common to Europe than to Maine, and the sky, dark and oppressive with what smelled like coal smoke, seemed more like something out of an old Victorian novel than anything you'd find in a modern town — at least not one where she'd expect to see a "taste of Thai" restaurant.
The castle on the hill above the town didn't exactly scream "real world", either.
"Where the hell am I?" She set her hands on her hips, running the curse she'd cast over in her mind, trying to work out where it might have gone wrong — or been tampered with. She looked around again, this time scanning for any of the various iterations of her son. "HENRY!"
"Regina Mills?"
She jumped and spun, her hand going to her heart, only just stopping herself from summoning a fireball for defense. She glared at the man who'd come up behind her. "Who wants to know?"
The man, unremarkable to a level that was nigh uncanny, wasn't impressed. "The guy who was paid a lot of money to hand this off to a lady on the boardwalk shouting 'Henry', who goes by 'Regina Mills'."
Regina scowled at him, faintly wishing she was still the sort to rip the hearts out of people who irritated her. "Paid by whom?"
The man smiled faintly and held out the envelope. Regina scowled harder and took it, then turned to walk away.
"What," the man asked. "No tip?"
Regina waved him off without turning and examined the parcel. It was a simple, legal sized manilla envelope, addressed to her care of "the Port of Fandom", with no return address. Nothing about it screamed "danger", and it was her only hint as to what the hell had gone wrong, so she slit it open with a fingernail and pulled out the sheaf of papers within. A real estate contract between herself and a name she didn't recognize, detailing the change of hands of a place apparently called "Luke's".
"I own a diner?"
She was missing Seattle already.
[open! Because why not bring in a new character on the first day of Silent Hill?]