frozen concept

rumbellewillruletheworld asked:

bed, wed and behead: Ingrid, Colonel Ives, and Nova!

Shit. I wanna do all three with Ives. (The beheading for my own protection.)

But if we’re playing by the rules…

Wed: Nova
Bed: Ives
Behead: Ingrid and the whole Frozen on OUAT concept with her

anonymous asked:

Everytime I see Frozen concept art, I want to cry. God, this movie could have been amazing.

The concept art of Elsa and Anna interacting actually invokes more feeling in me than the end result in the actual movie. I guess that says something

The Art of Frozen

Charles Solomon

In Walt Disney Animation Studios upcoming film, Frozen, the fearless optimist Anna sets off on an epic journey—teaming up with rugged mountain man Kristoff—to find her sister Elsa, whose icy powers have trapped the kingdom of Arendelle in eternal winter. Encountering Everest-like conditions, Anna and Kristoff battle the elements in a race to save the kingdom. The Art of Frozen features concept art from the making of the film—including character studies and sculpts, color scripts, storyboards, and more—alongside interviews with the film’s artists about the making of this comedy-adventure. © Disney


It had been some time.

Time since.. everything. His Kingdom was structured, his son was tucked away safely in his palace-like cathedral. The purifier had kept himself busy, however, as he made preparations and decisions. There were still things that needed done, of course. The Secretaries needed taken care of, and the land outside of the fourth Zone still needed dealt with. Yet he felt proud of his accomplishments so far. He had taken the right steps for his new beginning. He had his firm foundation, it was time he could begin his action.

Time had passed, but it did not feel like it had. What was time in this world but a frozen concept? The days of waiting for completion of his mission were over; he had all the time in the world to do as he pleased. However. There was one instance in which it felt as if time still existed, and it gnawed at him. Time existed as an absence. An absence of a presence.

How long had it been since he last saw her? The Puppeteer. The paragon. His friend.

The monarch thought on this as he walked through his halls, his stride long but collected as he moved though the foyer and out the front doors. It had been long, too long since he last saw her. Touched her. Held her. When they last spoke she had given him his son back, and he said he would alert her when he had everything together. But as that moment has now come, he was at a loss on how to contact her.

They were no longer connected to one another. She was a Puppeteer, she had other puppets and files to look over now that his was pure. It would take guess work to find her if he were to go looking now, no yellow brick road to follow. Yet a part of him still hoped despite the time they had been apart, they still shared some sort of connection to one another. Perhaps that was why he still called out: