The Writers Guild Presents: 2/28/2014

Hollywood, California

Click! Click! “Okay, if you could just stand here.”

Wolverine scowled at the man with the camera lens monocle around his neck as he clicked his fingers at him.

“Click’em again bub,” warned Wolverine “And you’ll lose’em!”

He stopped and looked at the X-Man, pulled his black and white striped skivvy down on anger and marched over towards him.

“I would expect this diva tantrum from Hugh Jackman! You, are no Hugh Jackman!” he growled into Wolverine’s face. “Now stand over there so we can get this over! Okay?”

Wolverine was taken aback by his fury. The man spun deftly on the toe of his Fendi Zucca-Print Low-Top Sneaker and skipped over to the man in the black robe waiting patiently off to the side.

“And what is this?” he asked as he flicked the black cloak around his shoulders.

Luke Skywalker looked at him “It’s a Jedi robe.”

“Did your agent not pass on the memo? I want white Skywalker!”

“I haven’t worn white since 1977”

“It shows!” He clicked his fingers “Now could you stand over there next to our rude Canadian friend.”

“Sorry I’m late,” said Superman as he landed. “I had to…”

“Superman, dahling!” cried the man faux fainting onto his chest “Thank heavens you’re here! You two! This, THIS! Is a professional!”

Wolverine and Luke Skywalker looked at him with utter disgust. Superman gave a small awkward wave. Wolverine responded with a less than friendly one fingered salute.

“Clark, may I call you Clark?”

“How di…”

“Now Clark, I need you in the centre between the Jedi and the Canadian. Did you read the brief?”

“Yes, but how do you know my se…”

“So in the centre, heroic pose, slightly flying.” He paused “Is that how you want your hair?”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Superman ran an instinctive hand through it.

“This dangly thing!” he tapped the spit curl on Superman’s forehead. Superman’s eyes flashed slightly red. The man gulped and pranced away.

“Alright people!” he yelled to the dozens on the set “We have four hours to make magic! Where is my camera?”

An intern handed him an expensive looking camera. He turned it on and focused on the trio who were talking amongst themselves.

“Right you three! Are you ready for this?”

“Yes…” the moaned in unison.

“Okay. I want action! I want energy! I want something that will make the fanboys cream! Let us once for all find out which is the strongest: Adamantium, Kryptonian or Lightsaber! LIGHTS! WIND MACHINE!”

He zoomed in as the trio took their initial poses “GO!”

I rushed forward, seizing the boy by the throat and ripped the shield from his hand.

"Where did you get this?"

The boy, Peter, let out a shriek and then went red. He looked as if he was about the cry.

The girl with the rifle scrambles to her feet "STOP! Let him go. I'll tell you everything. My name is Lyra, the other girl is Ana, the boy scowling over there is Anton and the little kid you are trying to crush the life out of is Sasha."

"What the hell are you doing here and how did you get that shield?" I drop the kid and he half runs and half scurries towards the girl Lyra.

"We are from a Bunker called Safe Harbor, it was on the outskirts of Novosibirsk. Our parents survived.... What came before and found refuge in Safe Harbor. Afterwards we were all born there."

"You were born in a Bunker?"

"Yes. About a year ago we started to run out of supplies. Our food was beginning to run low so our parents... Our parents sacrificed themselves so we could live. We continued on, learning how to survive, but the food eventually did run out. We left the Bunker with a map that would direct us to all the other Bunkers around the city in the hope that there would be other survivors and food, but this was the first time we had even ventured outside the Bunker and all that was left of the city was a skeleton. All we found was death. We began to make our way out of the city and came across a traveling trader. He was carrying the shield. He said he found it in these woods on his travels, but we didn't believe him. We knew he had stolen it so we took it from him and have been traveling here to return it ever since."

Children. That's all these people were. Just lost children in a cold and lonely world. "Idiots. He didn't steal it, I gave it to him. I no longer need it."

"You.. You gave it away?! But why?" Ana blurted shocked at the fact that anybody, that I, could do such a thing.

The little one, Peter, said "Sir, what happened to the world.. What happened to you?"

"Your parents didn't tell you?"

"No, they told us about the heroes, but that's all. They wanted us to start anew, innocent of the past."

"Son, let me tell you, there isn't anybody alive that's innocent. All the heroes, all the real heroes died in the war. All that's left now are the cowards. 17 years ago on the day the Heroic Age ended, the Earth was plunged into war. Mutants fought Human who fought Inhumans who fought Eternals. Chaos and death rained across the world. The leaders, they were the first ones to fall. I heard reports of Thor, leading a one man suicide mission to Olympia, the city of the Eternals. While hero fought hero, the villains roamed unchecked. An ancient mutant known as En Sabah Nur was the one to finally bring it all down. He turned the Hulk into a Gamma Bomb and infused it with Terregen Mist then detonated it above New York City. Half the world was turned to ash and the other half was warped beyond recognition."

Lyra looking as if she was going to be sick, asks "What about you? How did you survive?"

"Like a coward. When the bomb went off, me and my team were ordered to evacuate the high ranking government members to the nearest Bunker. I let the people... My people die so I could save bitter old men in suits. That is why I no longer need the shield. I'm not a hero and I have nothing to protect."

Lyra was shaking her head like she didn't want to believe any of it "No, you're wrong. There is still people to protect, you can still be a hero."

"The world is over, everything is gone"

Lyra shook her head and retrieved a small metal box from her coat pocket, it looked like a receiver. "Not everything."

A voice crackled from the speaker:

"The heroes have fallen and the world has turned to ash, but the walls of Latveria still stand. All Hope Lies In DOOM!"

The icy wind blew across the frozen mountaintop in an aggravated fashion, blowing away the powdered snow as if it was polishing the ice into a sparkling shine. Young Kristoff wasn't cold though, despite his wind reddened nose and cheeks. He had been born on this mountain, found one day by the ice harvesters in a snow drift, or so the story went. To see the boy romp through the snow, some of the men joked Kristoff had been born by the wind and snow itself.

He had been carried by one of the men to the reindeer stalls, where he was fed on the rich milk of the beasts of burden. It was also there that he had met a reindeer calf called Sven, so named because despite being born small, and of weak form, he had found he's feet, and refused to be jostled about by the other calves. He and Kristoff had taken to each other like the snow to winter, and the two were now inseparable.

And like young boys will do, the pair wished to prove their worth by helping with the ice harvest, despite only being able to move one small block between the two of them on a small sleigh. It was on such an unforgiving night that he and Sven were hauling there meager block of ice, and they had fallen way behind the other ice harvesters when they saw a pair of riders thunder past with haste, as though Old Man Split hoof himself were on their tails. More curious though was the trail of frost following in their wake, so close they came that Kristoff felt the wind from their passage on his brow. They were too far down the mountain for ice to be found in the forest at this time of year. "Ice?" Kristoff asked Sven in amazement.

This was a new thing, and adventure to go have. Kristoff threw off the rope tying Sven to the puny sled, and straddled his friends back. "Ride like the wind-- Whoa!!" Sven sped off faster then expected, following the fresh trail of frost.

* * *

Six years later:

"Hey hey hey Sven! You're breaking the first rule of ice selling. Never sample your own stuff." Kristoff told Sven, who paused from licking at the block of melting ice. "But its such a long way to town and I'm thirsty now." Kristoff said in a different voice, speaking for Sven. "Oh alright, just a few more licks." he smiled, scratching the scruff of Sven's neck. They had a way to go, but it was early still. They could afford a short break from ice hauling.

"Help me please." Came a voice from behind the sled.

"What happened? Got your tongue stuck?" Kristoff began to chuckle, the stopped. "Wait, when did you start talking on your own Sven?" He asked, stepping around the sled slowly.

"I don't know anyone named Sven. Please help me." An olive skinned girl replied before collapsing in a heap. Sven nudged her gingerly with his nose.

"Well, this is something new." Kristoff commented, shaking the girl by the shoulder. "Hey, what's wrong? Who are you anyway?"

"My name is Vivian, I am a magicians apprentice. An evil wizard is trying to kill me" She gasped, then fainted. Kristoff and Sven exchanged a glance of confusion.

"We should take her home. The trolls will know how to keep her safe." Kristoff told his trusty reindeer.

"No!" the girl, Vivian, suddenly came awake again, startling Kristoff and Sven. "I mean, that is most generous good sir, but I have a ship I must catch in Arendelle. I must get back to my master. Can you and your stead take me to port Arendelle?" She blinked her big green eyes, and Kristoff felt he could fall into those pretty eyes.

"I.. uh... um..." He stammered, looking away from her eyes at Sven to hide his sudden awkwardness. "I guess we are going that way anyway." he replied, helping her up onto Sven's back.