The name's Jack; Jack Frost. Also known as the ice-conjuring, nose-nipping legend that brings the snow during the - wait, you can see me?
Tag: thewinterspiritofmischief
Independent multi-verse role play blog for Jack Frost. Not affiliated with the actual Jack Frost or Dreamworks whatsoever.
“I prefer the term confident.” She reached out to her side table and checked on the time. 4PM, it read. Why did time have to go by so quickly? “I should be heading out soon,” she said. Because of her vampiric traits, she was more accustomed to going out from the afternoon until night, but she still went out during the day though. “Better think fast.”
He chuckled, and playfully rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, fangs.” He rested his staff on stomach and began to fiddle with it, a habit he has formed over the years. “Heading out?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “But it’s nighttime in a few hours.” The fact that the girl was a vampire had completely passed his mind.
“I don’t need practice,” she scoffed, and leaned back with her arms crossed. “So do I get a prize, Frosty?” She looked up at the winter spirit and noticed how tall he was, considering how they were lying in the same position.
“Wow, cocky, are we?” he said, noticing a slight familiarity with the conversation. Usually Jack was the cocky one and the other would either try to top him or get pissed off. In most cases, the latter. But this time it was the other way around. “I’ll think about it." He shrugged playfully.
Up close, Marceline was able to study him further. The worn tips of his white hair, the tired-looking blue eyes, and the paleness of his skin gave her some hints. She scrunched up her nose in thought, and the answer came to her in a daze. “Three hundred plus your physical age,” she said confidently. “I’m crap at math, so…” She shrugged.
Hearing the correct answer, a smirk began to form on his lips. “Impressive,” he said, still looking down on her. “Then again, a thousand years seems like enough time to practice.” He chuckled. “But yeah, you’re right. Three hundred and eighteen to be exact.”
She smirked at the challenge and observed the boy’s features. Normally, one wouldn’t be able to tell the real age of an immortal being, but Marceline has beyond mastered that. Still, guessing was a challenge. She got up, grabbed the boy’s arm and dragged him over to the bed for a closer look. “Now you stay there.”
“What the–” He was cut off when the vampire dragged him over to her bed. Trying to feel comfortable, he rested on his elbow and faced her. He felt himself beginning to blush at the sudden closeness but he was able to hold it back luckily. Shaking his head, he tried to distract himself. “Don’t take this too seriously, fangs.” He let out a small chuckle and looked down her while waiting.
“Okay, fair point.” She chuckled, leaning back. “How old are you, anyway?”
He raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised that the vampire gave up on the topic. “Guess.”
“But I’m not you,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s been a thousand years. I must’ve lost track of my moral code.”
“Maybe not, but then again, we’re not so different either.” He shrugged back. “I’ve been around for a long time, too.”
The vampire arched an eyebrow. “Mm, are you asking for it, Jack?” She relaxed on the bed, not lying down but not completely sitting up straight either; it was probably somewhere in between.
He chuckled. She might not be intimidating anymore, but darn she was still good. “Well, I guess I’m just a man of my word,” he said, leaning back onto the wall.
“Well, unlike most vampires, I don’t necessarily drink only blood. It’s actually the colour I like,” she said with a shrug. Looking around her room, the absence of red objects was evident. It seemed like Marceline had been really hungry lately. “I thought you said you were going,” she said, heading back to her bed.
Now the intimidation was completely gone. Which was a good thing–he found the girl interesting, anyway. He nodded, but he didn’t really get it. How would one actually eat or drink a color? “I thought you said you were gonna punish me,” he said with a small smirk, following her.
“I asked you if you had anything red on you,” she repeated. Rolling her eyes, she inspected the boy to see if he had or was wearing anything red, but she finished in disappointment. “I guess not. Okay, you can go now.” She pulled away in slight disgust. Not with the boy. But with the fact that she wasn’t able to find anything red.
He was more than relieved when she let go of him, but because of the things she’d said, and that he was a naturally curious person, he suddenly didn’t want to go as much now. “Wait, what do you mean, red? What’s it to you?” he asked, tilting his head.
She shrugged. “Just the fact that you’re being helplessly cornered right now, that’s all,” she said, leaning over. She placed both hands on the wall, on either side of him, and looked straight at him in a creepy manner. “You don’t happen to have some shades of red on you, do you?” she asked, almost whispering the words.
He leaned back onto the wall. Damn, the girl was really intimidating for some reason. When she asked a very odd question his worry seemed to lessen. He thought she was going to suck him dry. “Huh?” he asked in confusion.