drag me to Hel // Belle/open?

[hela]

Midgard was...well, it had never been exactly what one could call high on her list of places she enjoyed visiting. Even back in the days before she had become the way she now was -- closed off, cold, hateful -- she had never been particularly fond of the realm of the mortals. Though there had been a time when the strange, unfamiliar land had appealed to her more than the cold, dark expanses of Hel. There had been a time, back when she was still young, when she had attempted to flee to the realm of the mortals. To live among them, that had been her plan, absurd though it seemed in hindsight. She had though that perhaps if she could make it to an entirely different realm, away from her home, that she could outrun fate itself.

Perhaps it would have worked, were it not for the fact that the plan had been hatched before she had gained free movement through any of the nine realms. Heimdall had refused her passage, refused to open the Bifrost for her, despite her pleas, no matter how desperately she had begged him for his aid.

Of course, the plan had always been doomed to fail in some way or another. It was many years later that she finally did pay Midgard a visit...and when she did, it was through her own means, rather than having to rely on any guardian. Now that she was back for a second time, however she was absolutely amazed by how much things had changed since her first visit to the realm. Absolutely nothing here was familiar to her...and as she walked the smooth, black stone road, her attire -- or perhaps her demeanor? -- garnered her several...quite strange looks. It was as though these mortals, these humans had never seen a god among them before. Although, perhaps they had not. It was rare for an Asgardian to deign to visit certain realms...and Midgard was certainly among them.

Perhaps she truly was the first god to walk these...strange streets. The first to grace these mortals with her presence. Several of them shied away as she swept by, likely more than aware that she was no force to be trifled with. After all, should they so much as touch her, it would mean death for them. Soon enough, though, her path drew her away from the streets, to the outskirts of the town. A man there was dying...a mortal man, and yet, he was one of hers. He had not died in battle, so he was no hero. But he had, until his dying day, paid his loyalty to the gods of Asgard, herself among them. She had even granted him a boon on occasion, knowing just how rare it was to have a worshiper from the mortal realms...never in overt ways, of course, as she would have had to make a journey to the realm in question to affect any major changes, but just in subtle gestures, shifts of luck and other such things.

Ah, but here he was, dying a slow death. Struck by one of those...monstrous metal machines that the mortals were so fond of, perhaps. As she moved to kneel before him, and claim his soul, however, nearby movement gave her pause. "There is nothing can be done for him," she spoke, cooly and firmly, without bothering to turn. "His life is already lost."

[ravenna]

Ravenna hated stealing youth from men. They were the brutal, stupid side of humanity... certainly not worthy of death at Ravenna's hands... yet, she was getting more and more desperate each day. Her beauty was withering as quickly as it had in her own world and, although Storybrooke had plenty of people to pick from, she needed to find someone fast. It certainly couldn't be out in the open, either. She needed to make a good name for herself in Storybrooke. Wanton murder certainly wouldn't gain love from Storybrooke's citizen... quite the opposite, obviously. While the street wasn't a very subtle place to kill someone, she had transformed herself into a different form... not to mention the street itself was abandoned. Unfortunately, she wasn't Queen in this world. She couldn't do anything she pleased - she had to be careful here. It was a strange feeling, not being totally in control.

Mere moments ago, Ravenna had easily taken the soul of a man. He was a weak man, far too weak to put up any fight at all. In fact, he had rather pathetically given up the moment Ravenna had wrapped her hand around his neck. Not that she'd really expected any different. Ravenna had come to notice that most people gave up when they were so obviously outmatched. But, that was not important. What was important was that her beauty and power had been restored... leaving her victim withered and close to death. She planned to do away with the body after making sure her beauty had been restored. Transforming out of her false form, Ravenna began to move away from the body and into a nearby building.

While in the building, Ravenna chanted a simple spell and conjured up the golden surface that was her Magic Mirror. She stared into the mirror for a moment, watching it as if expecting it to do something. Instead of asking the mirror to tell her of her beauty, she only needed to see that her beauty had been restored. After ensuring that, the mirror disappeared. Ravenna, as she was exiting the building, heard a voice coming from the body's location. She'd been noticed. Ravenna turned, looking this new woman over. She seemed to think that she wanted to help this man somehow... Yes, that was good. She didn't see that she was the one who had murdered him.

"...I'm very sorry to hear that." Ravenna said, her voice soft and sad. She was thankful that, over the years, she'd gained quite the skill in acting. She needed it to manipulate and overthrow kings, after all... and for things like this.