Peter Pan - Dark Neverland (Closed)

mad_as_a_hatterx · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **mad_as_a_hatterx** on Fri Apr 09, 2010 2:28 pm

Peter ignored Wendy's comment about being 'only human'. Pah! He was so much better than someone only human! He could fly, he could fight, he could crow, he could imagine things into existence. Yes, Pan could do so many marvellous things that he was sure he was more than human. It was something he'd thought about quite often, in fact. He was not entirely human; he was sure of that much. He was far to amazing for that to be the case (he chose to over-look the fact that he had once had a human mother and a normal father, living somewhere in London). He had thought, at first, that he might be partly fairy, but then something had happened (he could not recall what) to disprove that theory. 'Slugs and snails and puppy dog tails; that's what little boys are made of!' Peter had heard someone say that once, and yet he had no shell and no tail, so he thought that the rhyme must be nonsense.

It was then that he'd thought up the theory he liked best. He had been human. Once. Then Neverland had got to him; claimed him for its own. The magic of the place had seeped into Pan's veins and changed him - for the better, naturally. And because of this, he liked to think, he was indestructable. Neverland might have turned into a dangerous place, but it was his Neverland, and a childish voice in Peter's head informed him that while he was in Neverland, nothing could truly hurt him.

Turning these thoughts over in his head once more, Peter watched Wendy, waiting for her to begin a story, chin resting on his hand. He was rather perplexed, therefore, when Wendy claimed not to be familiar at all with the stories. What? Had she forgotten? Truly? Surely...Brows drawn together, realisation dawned on him. "Liar" he stated quietly, rolling his eyes as Wendy seated herself.

The lost boys did not hear Peter, however, and their eyes were fixed on Wendy. "You've never heard the stories?" Curly asked, shaking his head as though pitying her.

"They're awfully good" agreed the Twins together.

"They're about Peter and a girl called Wendy and the adventures they had" Tootles explained, gathering his bed covers around him, face shining with excitement. Strangely, it still hadn't dawned on the boys that Wendy was the Wendy from the stories. "Peter brought her to Neverland once, but then...Well, then Peter says I shot her (though I don't remember it) and we all built her a house (though none of us remember that either - but we're very forgetful, you know) and...Well, they had so many adventures. The mermaids tried to drown Wendy once, and then Hook captured her and Peter had to rescue her and...Oh, it was all very exciting..." Tootles trailed off, sighing wistfully. "Peter tells the stories best though" he added, smiling over at Peter.

Peter merely rolled his eyes again, sticking his nose up in the air. He didn't like to think about Wendy knowing that he hadn't really forgotten her. It made it seem as though her cared about things. And Pan most certainly did not. He was completely care-free - nothing to worry him and nothing to weigh him down (or so he liked to think a majority of the time.)

"They are good stories...Though I never liked the ending very much at all," Slightly spoke up, hanging upside down from his bed. "It was more than slightly sad, I think."

Sirius Baren · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Sirius Baren** on Fri Apr 09, 2010 5:25 pm

Wendy heard the soft word from Peter's mouth and looked at him in much surprise. How dare he call her a liar! It wasn't even true! Well, partly. She did know of plenty of stories he probably told them, but she honestly didn't know if he had made some up for the Lost Boys or actually told them truth and fact that they weren't likely to know. She sighed for a moment with her own thoughts. She really was starting to wonder how she had fallen into this mess of Peter Pan and Neverland in the first place.

"No I haven't, at least not from Peter." She told one of the boys who she figured must be Curly. She missed her brothers, her own lot of Lost Boys. How could Peter Pan not care? He had easily replaced them and then promptly forgotten about the previous group. Did he truly and honestly not care about anyone else but himself?

Wendy's eyes widened as the boys spoke. So perhaps Peter Pan did care. The thought made her stomach flutter slightly for a moment before she was suddenly smiling. She felt happy that Peter Pan had not forgotten her and had even gone on to tell the Lost Boys about the adventures she had had with them.

"Oh I remember them now!" she exclaimed and saw instant curiosity spring to the boy's faces. "Yes, it was a sad ending-" she shot a glance at Peter for a moment. "But you must realize it wasn't the end. There can never be a true end to a story, merely a pause before it can pick up again." She said before she stretched her arms, completely ignoring Peter for the moment.

"Ah yes, come to think of it, you remember the end where Wendy was taken home and Peter Pan was left all alone?" she glanced at Peter. She wondered how he had handled losing everything so close to him. "It was actually many years since Peter had seen Wendy, and I'm sure that they both were sad. Wendy was forced to grow up." She paused as the thought saddened her. She had never liked the thought of growing up, but one must grow up as you can't stay a child forever. "She had many brothers to look after you see, and well, she couldn't do that if she were just a child. She had thought that Peter Pan had forgotten her and that he was nothing but a dream." She smiled as the boys looked at her mesmerized.

"Now it was on an evening when Wendy had finally decided to let Peter Pan go when he flew back into her life. Naturally she wasn't ready for him or more adventures, but that was not how Peter Pan saw it. He wanted more adventures with Wendy, and so he more or less conned her and then kidnapped her." She saw the look of shock and horror on the faces surrounding her and saw the defiant outrage and defence about to pop the air. "At least that's how a grown up would see it. Peter Pan was actually doing her a favor, letting her feel like a kid again." She glanced at Peter Pan, the cocky and irritable fool, with a gentle smile.

"I suppose it's time for bed, it really is late."

mad_as_a_hatterx · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **mad_as_a_hatterx** on Sun Apr 18, 2010 3:39 pm

Pan listened to Wendy speak, leg still draped lazily over his chair, a rather uncaring expression on his face. Peter really was quite a good actor; it really did seem as though he were barely listening. However, appearances can be very deceptive, and in reality (or perhaps it is unreality in Neverland), Peter was listening intently to every single word.

He half wished he wasn't, however, as Wendy began to talk of the ending of the story. Pan winced inwardly. He was sure Wendy's assurance that there was no real end should be comforting; something he should liked to hear. For reasons Peter couldn't quite pin down, however, the idea unnerved him. Stories had to have an end - of that he was sure. After all, if a story did not have an end, then how could a new story possibly begin? Or perhaps life was more like a book - divided into...What were they called? Chapters. And the 'ends' Wendy spoke of were merely the ends of chapters, during which whoever was reading would pause and reflect before moving on?
Shaking his head slightly, Pan dismissed all such thoughts. They were far too philosophical for his liking.

Wendy soon moved on however, and Peter found himself being torn in all directions by different thoughts. Pleased that Wendy had been sad without him. Resentful that she claimed he had been sad too. Pan was never sad! Indignant at the mention of kidnap. Pleasure again, that Wendy revealed she was pleased to be back in Neverland. Ahh - so many different thoughts! They were like pesky fairies flying round one's head and entangling themselves in one's hair.

"I suppose it's time for bed, it really is late."

"Ohh noo!"
"Not yet"
"It's not so late!"
"Peeteeer - can't we stay up?"

As soon as the statement had left Wendy's mouth, the boys began to protest. And Peter seemed quite content to let them do so. They were Lost Boys, after all. They were obedient to Peter, yes, but really...Now Peter thought about it, bed time seemed like such a grown up thing.

"Wait. I'm more than slightly confused" Slight piped up, pouting just a little. "If there's no real end to a story, then why do people always say 'the end' afterwards?" he asked, looking straight at Wendy and then at Peter. "Who's lying? It can't be the end but not the end all at the same time - that's nonsense!" he exclaimed, folding his arms.

"I don't care whether it's the end, the beginning or the middle so long as whatever it is, it's happy..." Tootles mumbled sleepily, eyes starting to drop.

"I don't think happy endings are so brilliant - they always involve thimbles and I think thimbles are icky!" Curly exclaimed, an expression of distaste written all over his face.

Peter took a deep breath, pulling a face. "People say 'the end' when they want to stop talking, Slightly" he explained, shrugging his shoulders. "They say 'the end' when there's nothing more to say or if they don't want to talk about what happened next" he elaborated, still apparently uncaring. He shot a glance at Wendy, and then at the boys who were hanging on his every word.
"But yes, Curly, you're right" he added, glancing once more in Wendy's direction, a small smirk playing about his lips. "Thimbles are quite gross."

Sirius Baren · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Sirius Baren** on Sun Apr 18, 2010 5:45 pm

Wendy was put in shock as the boys suddenly were in outrage as she had mentioned bedtime. She perked up an eyebrow for a moment as they were suddenly shouting defiance against bedtime before they turned their innocent faces upon Peter Pan and were pouting about going to bed. Wendy wondered how Peter would handle this. He had seemed distant this whole time and wondered where his mind had been while she was telling the story.

She looked at Slightly who did seem very confused. She realized then that perhaps she shouldn't have given them such a hard concept since they were only children after all and couldn't possibly understand.

Wendy's eyes shot to Curly for a moment before her attention was fixated upon Peter Pan as Curly had mentioned thimbles. Peter Pan had kept with the ooey-gooey, lovey-dovey, romance in his stories? She could hardly believe it. She remembered when Captain Hook had opened her eyes to how Peter Pan used to feel for her.

For a moment Wendy looked immesurably sad. She wished that she had stayed with Peter and enjoyed endless adventures and just loved him, but she had been a silly girl. There was no future in that path and she knew that she had made the right decision. Peter Pan was just a boy after all, he couldn't love her, he only knew love from stories, not experience.

Wendy watched Peter carefully as he gave her a small smirk. She realized he was taunting her and provoking her, but she wouldn't take it.

"What do I care if you think thimbles are nasty?" she said loftily before she got to her feet. "Now protest all you want, you all are going to bed. I was once your mother and now I'm your mother again, and what I say goes." Her eyes darted to Peter in utter defiance of her own as she knew that reinstating her motherhood among this fresh bunch of boys was the only way for her to be able to have some control over them.

mad_as_a_hatterx · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **mad_as_a_hatterx** on Thu May 06, 2010 5:58 pm

Peter wrinkled his nose at the lofty tone of voice; it made Wendy sound so grown up. As though she were bored, snobbish and uncaring all at the same time. It was the way adults generally sounded, Peter thought, rolling his eyes. This was probably because adults were boring, snobby and didn't much care about anything except boring things; it was sad to think that Wendy was so nearly an adult.
Still, Peter reminded himself - she was in Neverland now. He had forever and a day to correct things. Make them as they had been before; as they should be.

"Why Wendy, everyone cares what I think - you should know that" Peter remarked, quite unable to stop himself. He was an incredibly egotistical individual, but really, as Neverland -his world- really did seem to revolve around him, it was understandable. Rising into the air, Peter watched as Wendy attempted to assert her authority. He didn't interfer - he saw no need. Not yet, anyway. No; Peter was in the mood for some fun. So instead of saying anything, he merely sat cross-legged above his chair, chin cupped in his hands.

"I don't want to go to bed!"
"I dunno what a mother is, but I'm sure I don't want one!"
"Not sleepy yet!"
"Peeetteerrr....I don't want to sleep. The nightmares will come and..."

Peter rolled his eyes at the clamour that erupted, echoing round the underground den, though a small smile formed on his face. "Boys..." he murmured, floating down so that he stood, hands on hips in the middle of the room. Now it was time to show Wendy who was boss - who had the power in Neverland. For one reason or another, Peter wanted to show Wendy that the only way she could have any authority was if he gave it to her. What a strange dictator Pan made; childish, daring, leaf-clad and often a little tyrannical. Almost the instant he had spoken, the boys hushed their noise, eyes widening in fake innocence.

"Yes, Peter?"

"You are all to do as Wendy says. She is now your mother and you will always listen to her..." Peter trailed off, a grin appearing on his face. "Unless I tell you not to, of course, because I'm incharge. Still - bed - now." Pan finished, making sure to fix the boys with a stare that they could not very well ignore. One by one the boys settled down under their blankets and assorted animal pelts, suddenly quiet and obedient.

"There." Job done, Peter shot a glance in Wendy's direction. "Well, that was easy."

Sirius Baren · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Sirius Baren** on Thu May 06, 2010 9:29 pm

Wendy sighed, Peter Pan was such a child, didn't he know how to use his eyes? She felt ready to get angry at him, for his arrogant prudeness, but she decided that was below her and would only give him some sort of sick satisfaction to get her upset. "Actually Peter Pan, I don't care for half of what comes out of that hole you call a mouth." She said snidely. She really didn't like this Peter Pan, or at least the grown up Wendy didn't. Was that all that changed? Was it just Wendy who had grown out of Peter?

She frowned as the boys began to fuss and complain. It irritated her, but she stared at Peter as he demanded respect. If Peter had one thing, of redeeming value that is, he knew how to receive respect. These boys would walk the plank if he asked them to, never mind if he was joking about it. Wendy knew they'd die for him, and why? Because he filled their heads with silly stories.

Wendy watched in a hidden fascination as all the boys quickly ran to their beds, if you could call them that, and tucked themselves in. She sighed as Peter smirked her way.

"Well naturally, because Peter Pan is so perfect." Her voice oozed with sarcasm as she left the tree. She exited in a much more lady like way then the way she came in and sat down next to the tree. She didn't dare leave, she was sure that things were definitely more dangerous here. She sighed and looked up at the stars. She missed home, she didn't want to be here anymore.

mad_as_a_hatterx · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **mad_as_a_hatterx** on Sat May 08, 2010 5:21 pm

"Well naturally, because Peter Pan is so perfect."

And there was that nasty, adult way of talking again. Had it not been for her tone of voice, Peter would have most happily agreed whole-heartedly with Wendy's words. As it was, they had the effect of confusing him a little. It was irksome; truly irritating when people said one thing when they meant the exact opposite. It was like a lie, and despite the fact Peter often told tales tall enough to reach the moon, he hated being lied to. The hypocrite.

As Wendy left the den in her elegant way, a troubled half-frown, half-pout forming on his face, lingering there for a fraction of a second. Peter too, lingered for a few minutes in the den, watching as one by one, the Lost Boys drifted off to sleep. When Pan ordered that something should be so, after all, the Lost Boys generally strove to appease him as quickly as was possible. And besides - being a Lost Boy could be very tiring.

Soon soft snores and the occasional whimper could be heard coming from the sleeping boys, and by the way their eyes flickered back and forth behind closed lids, Peter determined that their sleep was not the peaceful kind. Which, needless to say, troubled him more than the young man would care to admit. It was not natural, you see, for dreams to enter Neverland, much less the frightful nightmares that so often plagued the band of boys. To his great displeasure, even Peter was not immune to these malicious dreams. After all, children dream of Neverland, and so the children of Neverland have no need to dream. Neverland and its inhabitants was an impossibly fantastical dream come true. Or at least, it had been. Until it had begun to change. Pausing to think about it, Peter realised that the change had begun around the same time the dreams had started to slip through. Dreams of strange, terrible things; greif, despair, anxieties, hopelessness.

With a soft shudder, Pan wrapped his arms around himself, tearing his eyes away from the now fitfully sleeping Lost Boys. There was nothing he could do. He had tried commanding the dreams to go away, of course, but to no avail. Not even Pan could guard his friends against dreams. It was with these thoughts in mind that Pan exited the tree, an unusually solemn expression on his face.

Green eyes lighting on Wendy, Pan quietly settled himself on the branch just above her head. The way she was looking up at the winking stars struck Peter as being...Wistful? Was that it? Perhaps. It was the done thing to wish upon stars, after all, Pan reasoned with himself. As for what she was wishing for - he knew. Of course he knew. However, he chose to ignore what he knew simply because he did not like it. Not one bit. Instead, he decided to approach things in a slightly more sensible, and what he hoped would be a more profitable way. He had decided to appeal to Wendy's practical side. For she had always been a practical sort of person - always ready with a good idea or a solution to a problem. "Wendy," he began, the slightest note of caution in his voice, "seeing as you are so very sensible, perhaps you can help me think of something..." Peter trailed off, flipping down from the branch so that he now hung upside down from it, green eyes glinting in the gloom. "Nightmares; exactly how does one go about preventing them?"

Sirius Baren · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Sirius Baren** on Wed May 12, 2010 8:17 am

Wendy was sitting quietly, thinking. Her whole life had been turned upside down again, and by the same person no less. She didn't like it. She was almost grown up, she had almost given up on this fairytale world and was ready to embrace the new and strange adulthood world where's she'd get married and have kids. Her aunt had all ready set her up with a young man, and Wendy couldn't say that she honestly disliked the fellow. He was sweet and chivalrous and he had made her laugh like Peter Pan had used to do. Now all Peter Pan did was frustrate her to no end. Why couldn't the boy just grow up? It was rather infuriating.

She stared up at the stars, wishing upon them foolishly. All she wanted to do was forget about Neverland. She was finding that it was too painful to be here. She sighed softly to herself and suddenly jumped. Peter Pan had snuck up on her. She felt anger for a moment, but it melted away as she stared up at him. She watched him a little perplexed for the moment. Nightmares? Since when did Peter Pan get nightmares?

Her motherly instincts kicked in instantly at the look on his face and the tone in his voice. She sat up straighter with a prolonged sigh before she shook her head. "Nightmares are a really strange thing Peter Pan, I never expected you, the boy with no cares, to have them." She stated quietly before she thought. "The only way you can get rid of them, is if you face them. They're just your fears manifesting in your sleep. The only way to overcome them is to face them like a man, stare them down, and make them more scared of you than you are of them." She told him gently as she watched him sway slightly upside down.

"Peter-" she stopped and glanced away. "Why did you bring me here? If Neverland really is sick, I don't know the first thing in helping it get better. Why'd you bring me?" she repeated the question once more.

mad_as_a_hatterx · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **mad_as_a_hatterx** on Sun May 16, 2010 6:02 pm

Peter listened to Wendy's words, swaying back and forth in an almost hypnotic manner, arms folded across his chest. "Oh, I never hav-" he began to protest, before trailing off, rolling his eyes in frustration. Denying it wouldn't really do any good, he supposed, but he disliked the way that Wendy had jumped to the conclusion that they were his nightmares. What did she take him for? A coward? Peter Pan might have been a lot of things (mainly good things, naturally), but a coward? Never! No - never that! He was not frightened by some silly, ridiculous, nonsensical dreams! A little colour rose to Peter's cheeks at the thought - or perhaps the red flush was due to the fact he was hanging upside down.

Still, Wendy's gentle tone calmed Peter a little. She was not speaking to him as though she thought him silly or as though she were mocking him. Wendy was using her motherly voice, and naturally, it caused Pan to cast his mind back days, weeks, months, years...To the days of story telling, treasure hunts, 'never-ending' night time parties and then basking lazily on the rocks when the sun rose. It was for this reason that when Pan took the time to process Wendy's words, he was surprised to find that they weren't exactly what he wanted to hear.

Wendy had got it wrong. She didn't understand - not like she used to. Peter distinctly remembered (or thought he did, anyway) that Wendy had used to be able to make sense of things; comprehend them perfectly. And she had been especially good at understanding Peter, complex and some might say 'troubled' individual that he was. Now though? Her advice seemed sound, good even, but it was not what Pan had been looking for. Peter knew all about facing up to things - why, he was sure he was the bravest, most brilliant being in Neverland! He fought pirates, flew loops, wrestled with crocodiles - with bears! And why? For fun, of course. "You don't understand..." he muttered, swinging himself back up onto the branch with ease, an almost sulky expression on his face.

"Why'd you bring me?"

A groan escaped Peter's lips and he drew his knees up to his chest, slapping a palm to his forehead. "...Because..." Once again, Peter fell silent, colour rising in his cheeks. Admit that he didn't know what else to do? No - never! That would be just like admitting a weakness. Pan was not a coward and he was most certainly not weak. "Because...Because you know about medicine and stuff" he replied, words a little hurried. "You made me and the boys drink medicine, remember?" Peter questioned, feeling that he had managed to create quite solid reasoning in very little time. He was rather proud of himself, actually. "But you're no good if you don't understand..."

A silence followed as Peter tried to conjure up the right words; the words that would make everything clear. Not 'abracadabra' or anything like that. Words that an adult mind would...Would be able to process. And that, as you can probably imagine, was a hard task for Peter Pan. He was used to talking to children, after all; he was used to thinking like a child. "They're not my nightmares...Well, they are, but...It's not what I'm scared of (because I'm not scared of anything)," Peter paused, allowing a couple of minutes for this news to sink in. "It's stuff I've not seen before - like...Like...Fire, explosions, burnt buildings...and...Pieces of paper with 'We are sorry to report' and 'missing in action' written on them" he explained, wrapping his arms around his knees. He wasn't quite sure how he knew what was written on the pieces of paper, for he could neither read nor write himself. "The nightmares don't bother me" he lied, drawing in a deep breath. "But they scare the boys and so that's why I brought you here. I need to know what medicine to use to get rid of nightmares that don't belong to you."

Sirius Baren · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Sirius Baren** on Sun May 16, 2010 11:21 pm

Wendy looked upon Peter like an adult would look upon a child, but how could she not? She truly was reaching her adulthood and Peter Pan was still a child. She knew no other way to look upon him as she was growing up. She did not understand what Peter expected of her, or what he believed she could do. She had no abilities that would work in this situation, she highly doubted needlework would save Neverland. She saw the hope dwindle in Peter's eyes as he had expected her to come up with some fantastical solution that wouldn't fail, but she had nothing. She merely gave him the advice her father had given her.

"Medicine? Peter I don't think my knowledge on medicine will save Neverland? Unless you know how you can get it to rain more than just water here." She said as she watched him. She could see the embarrassment flood his cheeks. She knew he hadn't thought his decision through, and that was a fault of Peter Pan. He had never thought before he had acted. She sighed as he pointed out how she had had him drink them medicine before with the Lost Boys. "Oh Peter, that was different. This is so much bigger than a cup full of medicine." She wanted him to understand. She knew she didn't understand, at least not like she used to.

Her patience for this type of thing was running thinner faster than the first time she had been here. It was obvious that threats in Neverland were real. The Indians weren't going to untie you after having their fun of catching you and the Pirates weren't simply content with having you stand on the plank before letting you go and trying again. She could see the seriousness in Peter Pan's eyes as he spoke and she realized in horror that he began to describe everything that had been plaguing her own dreams and her world.

Wendy bit her lip as Peter described the nightmares that him and the Lost Boys had been having. It was horrible to listen to. Every day was fear for her, every day she was living with the war and she saw now way out of it. She was the one seeing the reports of missing people and the long suffering in her real life, these boys were merely getting the reprecussions in their dreams. Did they really have nightmares about what Wendy was living through? For the first time in a long time she felt helpless.

"These aren't nightmares Peter, that's my reality." She told him with a concerned look. "I don't know what to do." The fear finally crossed her face as she looked completely helpless.

mad_as_a_hatterx · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **mad_as_a_hatterx** on Thu May 20, 2010 4:27 pm

"I don't know what to do."

The words echoed in Peter Pan's head, causing him to tremble for a millisecond like the dying leaves of the Nevertree falling from the branch. As they bounced around his head, the words seemed to mock him, growing louder by the second; a reverse echo. Because all things in Neverland were a little topsy-turvy. Neverland was the product of many over-active imaginations, of course, and young minds often become muddled or confused, simply because of the abundance of thoughts and notions constantly popping in and out of them. Hand flying up, Peter gave the side of his head a swift slap and shook his head, attempting to stop the ringing in his ears.

"I don't know what to do."
"I don't know what to..."
"I don't know wh..."
"...Don't..."

The reverse-echo soon righted itself and, like any normal self-respecting echo, it soon died away all-together. Well, this was not strictly true; the words did not die in Peter's head. It was just that upon receiving the thump to the side of the head, the words had become jumbled and had toppled out of Peter's mind, only to be lost to the night air. It was so often the case with Pan though; things went in one ear and flew straight out of the other. It was a little strange though that this time they had seemed to require encouragement. It was rather a shame, therefore, that the expression of vulnerability and fear seemed to linger on Wendy's face. If it had not been for that, it's likely that Peter would have been able to forget about the whole conversation with relative ease.

Sighing, Peter let his chin rest on his knees for a moment, shadow beside him on the trunk of the tree. In fact, one couldn't really tell who was mimicking who. Both the shadow and Peter looked equally downcast and for once the two seemed to be in perfect harmony. Something of a novelty these days, Peter found - an obedient shadow. These days his shadow seemed quite keen to go about its own business for one reason or another. Somewhere in the Neverforest a wolf howled, only to be answered by another and then another. Then, the sound of gunfire, the cawing of startled Nevermore ravens and Nevertree crows and then silence. Peter barely moved his head, though his skin prickled. "Oh Wendy..." he began at last, a sigh escaping his lips. He was interrupted by another gunshot and more squawking.

The noise seemed to revive Peter from his almost melancholy state and he slipped quietly down from the branch, landing with a soft thud beside Wendy. "We'll think of something but I can't have your reality coming here...Because that's how reality starts, you know - with dreams" he stated, placing his hands on his hips. Whether this was strictly true or not, Peter had not the foggiest idea, but it sounded true, and if Pan believed it to be true, then that was what it was. Naturally. Pausing, the young man wrinkled his nose, an expression of distaste passing across his features. Why? Well, Peter Pan had never been fond of the smell of gunpowder; the smell of piracy. "We should go back in...The pirates are getting closer" he added, narrowing his eyes momentarily.

Then, in an uncommonly gentleman-like manner, Pan extended his hand to Wendy, intending on helping her to her feet. It wasn't exactly the cleanest of hands, stained with the juices of plants and it had a shimmering sheen to it, due to the pixie dust, but it was a hand all the same. At least Peter was minding his manners. "If that's your reality....Then...Would it really be so terrible? To stay here with me? Just for a while?"

Sirius Baren · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Sirius Baren** on Mon May 24, 2010 11:16 pm

Wendy watched Peter carefully, afraid. He seemed to not take that news very well. She watched him as he appeared to have something stuck in his head, buzzing around like a pesky fly. She wasn't sure what to say now. She really didn't know what to do. Her reality was leaking into Neverland, and that was obviously causing a lot of trouble. If the characters in this enchanted land mirrored real time events, then Wendy knew that this was not going to be good and that Neverland was spiraling downwards into further chaos.

The sudden sharp sound of gunfire had Wendy jump where she sat. She looked around, her eyes alert. The pirates were real now, they were true barbarians. They weren't going to be satisfied with letting their catch go. They were going to really make them walk the plank. This made Wendy shiver and shudder as her blood chilled from the prospect. Her only hope of survival was a boy so full of himself that he was deaf to anyone who said anything against him.

Her eyes turned upon this boy, who was looking less and less like a boy, as he sighed. She frowned. Well it really wasn't her fault that her reality was mixing with Peter's fantasy. She had no control over it! She looked at the ominous trees once more as gunfire echoed through the night air. "I'm sorry Peter, but I don't know how to make my reality go away. It's not under my control, I'm practically a child." She said rather dismally. She wished she could control her reality, then maybe people would stop fighting.

She watched the boy in a curious manner as he said they should go back in. She was quite ready to retreat into the safety of the tree, but Peter Pan was offering his hand to her which was a very chivalrous thing to do despite the lack of cleanliness to the hand. She had never known Peter Pan to have manners, and yet he was displaying them now, as well as having his Lost Boys use manners as well. It was unorthodox the way with which they used manners as they probably didn't understand them well, but Peter Pan had a certain charisma about him and Wendy knew she'd have competition if they ever went to London together.

Wendy stared at his hand as he spoke. She thought about it, and she knew it would be terrible to stay as she might forget home, but she accepted his hand. "I suppose Neverland might have a lesson or two for me still." She said as Peter helped to pull her to her feet and they retreated into the tree.

mad_as_a_hatterx · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **mad_as_a_hatterx** on Wed May 26, 2010 6:12 pm

A grin worked its way onto Peter's face as Wendy took his hand, pearly white teeth gleaming. It was a friendly grin, charasmatic and full of mischief; if there was one thing that summed Pan up, that was it. Yet, for all the charm of the smile, all the humour, there was something just a little unsettling about it. If his teeth had been sharp and pointed, one might well have thought that he had stolen the smile from the crocodile. A crocodilian smile designed to fool people - to trick them. For the smile did not quite reach his eyes. It was a practised grin that more often than not these days, Peter plastered on for show - to try and convince himself that Neverland was not crumbling and that everything he had known was not falling away from him. A lot of the time it worked; if he was cheerful all day, smiling and distracting himself with new adventures, it was quite easy to forget the more serious issues that had come to plague Neverland.

I suppose Neverland might have a lesson or two for me still."

Lessons? Well, what a strange thing to say! As the days drew to a close in Neverland not one inhabitant had ever been able to reflect on the lessons he or she had learnt that day. As adventures came to an end there was no moral message to be drawn from them - no deep and meaningful lesson to take to heart. Events occurred, passed and were forgotten, leaving the same silly mistakes free to be made the next time. And the time after. (Unless of course you were Peter Pan, who incidentally had not made a single mistake in his life...Or so he believed). Still, if Wendy wished to pretend there were lessons flitting through the trees of the Neverforest and skulking onboard the Jolly Roger, he saw no reason to deny her that. Pretending was good for the soul, after all.

Upon entering the underground den the first thing Peter did was pad softly over to the beds of the Lost Boys, bestowing a brief glance on each of them. Finding each one in their proper place, an expression of what could almost be called relief flitted across his face. It was almost as though he had expected to find that they had gone; desserted him - been stolen. But no, no. They were all there, eyes moving restlessly under closed lids, strings of frantic nonsense words tumbling from their lips on occassion. As per usual, Tootles had thrown his cover off and was close to rolling off his ledge bed. With a sigh Peter picked up the worn, tattered blanket and carefully draped it over Tootles, giving the small boy a nudge to discourage him from rolling any closer to the edge. It seemed to work and satisfied, Peter took a step back, stretching his arms above his head before turning round to face Wendy.

"Well, unless you've any objections, you can have my bed tonight" he stated generously, folding his arms. "Oh, and sometimes fairies like to sleep at the end of my bed so...If you feel anything tickling your toes, don't worry" Peter added, raising his eyebrows slightly as he flopped down in his chair, one leg draped over the arm of the chair. "And tomorrow...Well, I should think we'll be able to manage at least three adventures...Or lessons if you prefer to call them that. I don't mind."

Sirius Baren · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Sirius Baren** on Sun May 30, 2010 12:39 pm

Wendy watched Peter as he walked over to the Lost Boys individually and checked on them. She was in a bit of star struck awe as she stared at this young boy. When had Peter Pan grown a heart? He was obviously concerned for his boys, and that made her wonder. Peter Pan was really growing up, even if he wasn't going to accept it yet. He was a lot more responsible than the Peter she remembered. He was actually tucking the Lost Boys in, and that made her smile. She quickly hid it, she didn't want an outburst from Peter. She merely watched as he was tender with the small children.

Once again Peter offered her his bed. The Peter she knew wouldn't be so generous, at least not without an obvious fit. She wouldn't have minded sleeping on the floor, or something of the sort, but she was rather intrigued that Peter was offering up his bed for her personal sleeping comfort. "All right Peter, I'll sleep in your bed, but it probably needs washing or something." She knew that putting up a small fit would give Peter some sort of pleasure. She wondered how long it would be before Peter realized he was very different from the boy he had been all those years ago.

Wendy disappeared from Peter's sight and into his room. She walked over to his bed, and she was right, it did need cleaning, but she hardly cared. She flopped on the bed feeling very exhausted. It had been such a long day and she was feeling very tired. She rolled over in the bed and looked at the ceiling. There were a few tree roots hanging from the ceiling and she smiled. For the first time in such a very long time, despite the arrogant boy, Wendy felt truly at home. She hadn't felt so safe in a while, and now that she did, she easily slipped off into a peaceful slumber without waking.

mad_as_a_hatterx · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **mad_as_a_hatterx** on Wed Jun 02, 2010 9:56 am

It's true that most people do not sleep so well when not in their own bed. Either the substitute bed is too hard, too soft, too lumpy, too short or the wrong width. In short, there is almost always something 'not quite right' about any bed other than your own. This can lead to a lack of sleep either because of the amount of time required to get comfortable or because of strange dreams caused by a strange environment. The truth was though, that Peter slept as well as he ever did, despite being denied his own bed. He had never been a deep sleeper (not that he could recall, anyway), and so he really only ever got half the amount of sleep that an avergage person would.
The reasoning for this was simply that Pan regarded sleep as a very dangerous activity - it made you very vulnerable. So Peter only ever half slept and he had taken to keeping one eye open at all times, just in case Danger should rear it's ugly head. Though Pan had always been able to smell it a mile off, even in his state of half-sleep.
Recently though, with the arrival of the dreams, it had become harder to sniff out the real danger from the apparitions that masqueraded round Peter's mind, dressed as Danger and it's companions. Lately, therefore, Peter had become extra vigilant, making sure to wake himself every so often.

So, upon the arrival of one of these 'every so oftens' (Peter didn't know how long exactly, for he and Time had never been able to get along and so Peter had practically banished it from Neverland) that Peter's other eye snapped open. It took a little while for his eyes to adjust to the dark, but at length they did. Standing up quietly, hands on his hips, Pan turned his head first one way and then the other, surveying the little room. Everything was normal here. Nothing had crept in while he was half-sleeping; nothing had come to trouble Peter and the boys in their (well, Peter's, really) underground den. Yes, there were the boys, still sleeping fitfully and....Something flashed through Peter's mind quite suddenly. There was someone else in the den. Someone who was not usually here...His lips curled and Pan's hand flew to his dagger. Who had dared enter the.....Oh. He'd remembered. Peter breathed out slowly, allowing himself to relax. The unusual presence was, of course, Wendy.

Half walking, half hovering, Pan drifted towards his own bedroom, moving silently. He could certainly have been mistaken for his own shadow, were it not for his eyes, glinting in the gloom. Carefully, Peter pulled back the curtain that served as his door, just a little, of course. On his bed he could make out Wendy's figure, and he could hear her breathing softly as she slept. Well, it was only natural that she should be sleeping well. His bed was the best bed ever to exist. Much better than those things back in L....Lon...Peter wrinkled his nose. He couldn't recall what Wendy called the place she lived. Regardless, he thought his own bed much superior to the beds there. Why, the only thing they had been good for was jumping on with Wendy and....John and....Michael. A frown crossed Peter's face as he let the curtain fall back into place. London. That was it. Perhaps Pan remembered more than he cared to admit.

With that, Peter padded back to his chair to return to his state of half sleep.

---

As the sun rose, the moon complained a little, but soon relented. Night had passed and it was now morning in Neverland.
Naturally, Peter was the first to wake. It seemed that sleep had a firm hold on the others though, and the Lost Boys still lay, snoring in their beds. Ah well. It was nothing unusual - this was how the morning usually proceeded. Peter would wake early and as the boys slept he would go and retrieve breakfast. Today was no different, and true to routine, Peter left the den and returned with an assortment of breakfast foods. Now all that remained was to wait for the others to wake.

Sirius Baren · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Sirius Baren** on Sat Jun 05, 2010 1:46 pm

Wendy seemed to be sleeping peacefully, at least at first she was. Even though Peter's bed wasn't her own, and it was definitely strange, she was perfectly comfortable in it and felt as though nothing in the world could touch her while she was tucked away in the layers of warmth. She had a few fitful dreams, but nothing that bothered her very much. Something suddenly changed in the atmosphere of the room and Wendy's eyes opened of their own accord. She looked around puzzled and saw a familiar figure disappear behind the fur curtain. She just stared at the curtain for a moment before she smiled. She knew it would take a very long time for Peter to admit it, but he was growing up a lot faster than anyone could've previously assumed.

Once more Wendy fell back into a comfortable sleep. The dreams that had seemed to plague her back in London were scarce here. They left her alone and she actually felt completely rested for once.

The next morning Wendy woke up after Peter did. She sat up in the bed and stretched out her arms. She yawned before she scratched the back of her head. She frowned. The one thing she didn't like about being in Neverland was that her hair was impossible to take care of. She sighed as she ran her fingers through her hair in a poor attempt to take some of the tangles out. She finally set her feet upon the floor and left Peter's room. She came out into the large open area that some might consider a family room or the living room of the old tree. Wendy spotted Peter instantly as he had brought plenty of food to eat.

"Good morning Peter," she smiled at him and went over to the food. She picked up a few berries before she looked back at him. "Thank you kindly for letting me use your bed." She sat on the floor as she stared up at Peter still.

mad_as_a_hatterx · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **mad_as_a_hatterx** on Sat Jun 05, 2010 5:06 pm

"Yes, today is a good morning" Peter agreed, glancing at Wendy, pleased that she seemed to be in a good mood. With her hair slightly tangled too, she looked a great deal more like herself, Peter thought. "Oh...That's alright" he replied, shrugging his shoulders slightly, though he couldn't help but smile. It had been a very chivalrous thing to do, he thought. But then, he was just like that - chivalrous and brave in the best possible ways. A silence followed, during which Peter was not entirely sure what to do or say. The way Wendy stared up at him seemed almost...Expectant. "...I...Uhm..." Peter paused, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "We'll have to make you your own bed at some point" he continued, relieved that he had found something to say. "I'm afraid your little house broke, and I never did get round to putting it back together" he stated, pulling a face.

He was lying, of course. He hadn't ever intended to put the house back together. Once Wendy had stopped coming to clean for him (he had forgotten that it was he who had neglected to collect her), the little house had fallen into ruin, and annoyed, Peter had decided that it would stay that way. If Wendy could no longer be bothered to come and see him and keep house, then he would leave it to rot! And so he had. Now it was probably little more than a pile of slimy leaves and wet, rotting wood. Peter shrugged the thought off. He'd had more important and adventurous things to do anyway.

"Arrrgh!"

Thoughts of the Wendy House were completely forgotten and Peter turned his head in the direction of the yell. Tootles sat bolt upright in bed, damp hair clinging to his forehead, face pale and teeth chattering. The other Lost Boys stirred from their slumber, peering curiously in Tootles' direction. "S-s-sorryy..." the small boy stammered, barely able to force the words out. "B-b-ba-ad...Dre-am..." Having said this much, he slid from his bed, wandering over to where Peter stood.

"Well?" Peter demanded, crouching down so that he was at eye-level with the young boy. "Was it worse than last time?"

"Much worse..." Tootles croaked, gulping. "There were...Were essplosions and...And lots of people crying and screaming and -" he stopped, hanging his head. "Sorry" he muttered, shuffling his feet uncomfortably.

Peter listened, a slight frown forming on his face. "It doesn't matter, Tootles" he replied at length, straightening up. "Remember - you're a Lost Boy, so you're not allowed to get scared. If you get scared, I will banish you from Neverland" Pan declared, placing his hands on his hips. "Now...Eat breakfast because we have a whole day full of adventures to get though" he added, settling down cross-legged, hovering just above the ground. "We might raid the pirate ship...Or...No! I know" Peter grinned, glancing in Wendy's direction. "We'll build a house - a better one than before."

"Before...?" Slightly asked, settling himself down beside Wendy.

"There was a little house but it fell down" Peter explained, somewhat hurridly.

"Ohh...I like the idea of building a house. You have such good ideas, Peter" Tootles added, sitting down on the other side of Wendy, his nightmare seemingly forgotten.

"And then...And then..." Peter rose a little in the air, a sure sign that his head was buzzing with happy thoughts. "We'll have a...A..Uhm...Warm house party or something, that's how things are done, isn't it, Wendy?"
"Oh....And you slept well, right?" he added, smiling. Far be it from Peter Pan to neglect his manners.

Sirius Baren · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Sirius Baren** on Mon Jun 14, 2010 12:09 pm

((I'm really sorry about the delay, I've been rather busy working full time, but here's a post for you! I'm going to try better!))

Wendy watched Peter as he seemed to be thinking about something. She smiled slightly when he mentioned the house that had been built for her. She really didn't care that it was gone. She'd much rather be with the crowd of boys then to be on her own in her own house, then again she might enjoy privacy once in a while since she was a girl after all. She suddenly looked over at Tootles who had cried out.

For a reason Wendy couldn't even fathom, guilt swam in her stomach as Tootles explained his nightmare. Was it really all of Wendy's fault that Neverland seemed to become so unbalanced? She watched the small boy as he shuddered. She looked to Peter and gave him a harsh look as he told Tootles he'd banish him for being scared. That was completely ridiculous in Wendy's mind. Peter Pan declared to never grow up and to always stay a child, yet he was telling the boys to get over their fears and to never be scared, that was definitely a grown up thing to say. Wendy suddenly realized that Peter Pan was not a child anymore, he was growing up. Naturally Peter was in denial about it, but for how long?

Wendy watched them as they got excited. They forgot things so easily and were readily eager to just be content in letting their troubles go. She was surprised when Peter suddenly addressed her. She had been very lost in her thoughts as she had many things to think about.

"Oh yes, I suppose that it how it's done." She said in an airy voice that suggested her mind was elsewhere. She wanted to make Peter see he was growing up, then maybe he would stop this foolish fantasy and realize reality even more than he had all ready.

"I slept fine, thank you Peter." She told him before she looked at Tootles who was sitting very close to her. She glanced at Peter, almost as if she were defiant before she touched the small boy on the head and leaned down. "It's okay to be scared Tootles." She whispered in his ear. She didn't think it was fair to have Peter expect so much from the Lost Boys, they were just children. She knew it was unfair to tell them to grow up when he himself was refusing the inevitable fact.

Peter Pan was a hypocrite.

mad_as_a_hatterx · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **mad_as_a_hatterx** on Thu Jun 24, 2010 11:38 am

OOC: Oh, that's alright. Sorry I've been a while with my reply. A-levels and all that.

BIC:

For some reason, Wendy didn't seem impressed by the idea of a new house and to top it off, a party. The airy, nochalant way she had spoken had alerted Peter of that, and to be frank, he was a little put out. After all, he was used to being...Well, fawned over, to put it bluntly. The Lost Boys all thought him marvellous, the faries catered to his every childish whim, and the few mermaids that remained in the lagoon had declared on more than one occasion that they were never content unless Peter was nearby. In fact, the only inhabitants of Neverland that seemed to dislike Peter were the pirates, and that was completely understandable. He'd stolen enough treasure fund the building of a very large palace, cut off or gouged out various body parts (eyes and hands, mostly) just for fun, and went out of his way to be generally irksome. However, Pan fancied that the pirates would be very bored without him; they'd have no purpose - nothing to do. It was true that all of Neverland seemed to go to sleep when Pan was absent.

So why was Wendy being so...So...Unbothered? She just didn't seem to understand what a huge honour Peter had decided to bestow upon her. He had chosen her to be the co-saviour of Neverland, and all she could come up with was phrases like 'I don't know' or 'I suppose so'? Hmph.

The sudden bitterness that had been coursing through Peter's veins only intensified as he heard Wendy's whispered words. However, he caught Wendy's defiant glance as easily as if it were a common cold, and he realised something. She was playing a game. And she was challenging him to be her opponent. Pan returned the stubborn, defiant glance with a cool indifference, readily accepting the invitation to play. "I'm glad you slept well" he replied, a rather breezy quality about his voice. "And it's not ok to be scared - rather - it is, but you should keep it to yourself, because fear's infectious, you know" he stated, sparing a glance for Tootles, who nodded, swallowing, shuffling closer to Wendy.

"I've never built a house....How d'you do it?" Twin One suddenly asked, smiling brightly.
" You get some walls, stick a window to them and then put a roof on top, silly" Twin Two supplied, helpful as ever.

"You don't stick windows on" Nibs informed them, rolling his eyes slightly. "You have to build them into the wall."

"It all sounds slightly complex..But fun!" Slightly added.

"Mmm...But before any of that, we'll go to the lagoon. Clean up a bit" Peter stated, a smile finding its way onto his face.

"We'll fly?" Tootles questioned.

"Of course" Peter confirmed, grinning. "Think happy thoughts, Boys and...Oh..." Peter turned to Wendy, raising one eyebrow. "I don't suppose you can fly yet?" he asked, folding his arms. "Got any happy thoughts yet?"

Sirius Baren · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Sirius Baren** on Sun Jun 27, 2010 11:02 am

Wendy could see that Peter was rather irritated with her, but she hardly cared. She knew that he couldn't really do much to her, it was his fault she was there anyway. If Peter Pan didn't like how Wendy was acting, well it was his problem. Wendy wasn't about to pretend to be enamoured with him or play along with his silly fantasy of everything having to revolve around him, that just made her irritated when he expected everything and everyone to absolutely worship him. It was highly unfair to expect that sort of attention from Wendy, after all, she was a very civilized lady now.

"Fear is only infectious if you allow it to be. Stop trying to make them grow up Peter." Wendy spoke in a hard tone as her eyes were narrow at him. She glanced at the twins and suddenly smiled. They were adorable.

A sigh escaped Wendy as things once again changed quickly in the atmosphere. It almost upset her at how willing and ready the Lost Boys were to obey Peter's every command. It made her wonder. She frowned as Tootles questioned whether or not they'd fly there, and naturally Peter grinned brightly and confirmed that they would fly there.

"No I can't, I'll walk." She said defiantly as she rose to her feet and brushed the dirt from her dress. She gave Peter another defiant look before she marched the the exit and left the house. Peter Pan really did bother her, but she'd bother him in return.

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