Setting
Default Location for Neverland's Fall
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Neverland is a part of 
Neverland's Fall.
17 Characters Here
Peter Pan [5] "Seeing isn't believing~"
Ram [3] "Don't call me a sheep, understand?"
Trees [3] "Ever heard of personal space? You're invading mine." (WIP)
Eloise Kingsley [3] "If I had to give someone a single piece of advice that they should live by, it would be this; Like what you do, do what you like."
Joshua V. Kingsley [3] "I am the self-elected protector of my siblings."
Callum Kingsley [3] Callum Kingsley: "Call me a brat, it's a compliment, really,"
Flint [3] "What I see is very different from what I look at."
Hook [3] "Nothing's better than the ocean and the feel of the wind... and the thought of Peter dead. Well, that's nice too."
Roan Haiku [2] "Call me what you will, orphan, prat, zilch but a lost child. Now THERE'S an insult"
Soleil Ada [2] "I love the open sea... It just makes my worries vanish, you know?" [History TBA]
Start Character Here »
Kensington, London. A quaint little district nestled in the western fragment of the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea, itâs notorious for being the best shopping alley across the expanse of England. With itâs plethora of boutiques, bakeries, antiques and entertainments, it isnât a wonder why civilians of all social spheres flock to the cobblestone walks, each length teamed with artfully crafted oaks. Though, despite the boulevard providing endless thrills for this eclectic medley, only a select few have the first rate heaven of residing within the Victorian flats looming in the backdrop...even a smaller percent of that elite class being a full fledged family. And yet, this is precisely where our story takes wing.
As twilight descends on the abandoned focal square, the winds holding an iced spite from the North, it is here that the true face of Kensington springs to life. Those aforementioned high class patrons are bustling about in their homes, each one ruffled with anticipation for whichever soiree is being fabricated that night⊠however, one family in particular is scampering about a tad bit more than itâs neighbours. The Kingsley household, with itâs 5 members, call home to the second largest suite within this sectioned off heaven; Number 14 on Bloomsbury Avenue...and, while impressive, it has a pricetag to match itâs prestige. However, with a highly regarded lawyer and socialite, the father and mother respectively, money has never been an issue for this purebred name. Though, if one was judging their class by the standards of their children, one would have to scoff at the notion of them even glancing at Bloomsbury. Even now, as Mr. & Mrs. Kingsley are preparing for an evening laced with champagne, dancing and laughter, the rambunctious attitude has yet to cease. While the mother hounds the two youngest, the Prince and Princess of the family, to quell their racing argument, the father has busied himself with doling out strict instructions to the eldest, the tertiary guardian of Apartment #14⊠yet, the headâs parting words will soon be all for naught. Unbeknownst to Mr. and Mrs. Kingsley, their beloved children are being carefully watched by a figure that has only existed within the sisterâs goodnight stories; Peter Pan.
Meanwhile, upon the Mainland, the typical summer climate has been chilled to wintry blanket, white snow encasing the earth and ice protecting the sea. Sensing itâs nonofficial kingâs absence, the magic within this otherworldly realm has receded from its inhabitantâs everyday lives, most now struggling to carry out even the most undemanding actions (such as flying or changing forms). Though that isnât the most pressing concern at the moment.. no no, itâs far from that. The ship of the infamous pirate captain, James Hook, has been spotted not too far off the coast line, currently held in place by the frozen waterâs greedy embrace. However, itâs only natural that they would attempt to make a movement to seize the Mainland at this point..what better time to do such then when the all powerful Pan is away?
Thankfully, the King, like always, is two steps ahead from the pirates; before leaving to retrieve the Heirs, the Lost Children were given explicit instructions. While under the Second-in-Commandâs constructed administration, this group of orphans are to stalk and track the movement of the crew, attempting their best to keep the scoundrels off the land...and, if need be, fight tooth and nail to protect the beaches. However, the pirates have a similar interest regarding the Lost Children; capture and interrogate them to reveal Panâs whereabouts, his plans. After all, with luck, maybe the King has disappeared for good?
As the Lost Children and Pirates begin to generate foul play with one another, the tribes have begun to do the same. Tensions are starting to arise between the three races, the lack of their Heirs sprinkling even more stress unto their councils more so than before. In fact, accusations are now being casually dispensed, each clan eager to pin the blame on another...some even targeting their King, Peter Pan, for his neglect to provide protection.
As twilight descends on the abandoned focal square, the winds holding an iced spite from the North, it is here that the true face of Kensington springs to life. Those aforementioned high class patrons are bustling about in their homes, each one ruffled with anticipation for whichever soiree is being fabricated that night⊠however, one family in particular is scampering about a tad bit more than itâs neighbours. The Kingsley household, with itâs 5 members, call home to the second largest suite within this sectioned off heaven; Number 14 on Bloomsbury Avenue...and, while impressive, it has a pricetag to match itâs prestige. However, with a highly regarded lawyer and socialite, the father and mother respectively, money has never been an issue for this purebred name. Though, if one was judging their class by the standards of their children, one would have to scoff at the notion of them even glancing at Bloomsbury. Even now, as Mr. & Mrs. Kingsley are preparing for an evening laced with champagne, dancing and laughter, the rambunctious attitude has yet to cease. While the mother hounds the two youngest, the Prince and Princess of the family, to quell their racing argument, the father has busied himself with doling out strict instructions to the eldest, the tertiary guardian of Apartment #14⊠yet, the headâs parting words will soon be all for naught. Unbeknownst to Mr. and Mrs. Kingsley, their beloved children are being carefully watched by a figure that has only existed within the sisterâs goodnight stories; Peter Pan.
Meanwhile, upon the Mainland, the typical summer climate has been chilled to wintry blanket, white snow encasing the earth and ice protecting the sea. Sensing itâs nonofficial kingâs absence, the magic within this otherworldly realm has receded from its inhabitantâs everyday lives, most now struggling to carry out even the most undemanding actions (such as flying or changing forms). Though that isnât the most pressing concern at the moment.. no no, itâs far from that. The ship of the infamous pirate captain, James Hook, has been spotted not too far off the coast line, currently held in place by the frozen waterâs greedy embrace. However, itâs only natural that they would attempt to make a movement to seize the Mainland at this point..what better time to do such then when the all powerful Pan is away?
Thankfully, the King, like always, is two steps ahead from the pirates; before leaving to retrieve the Heirs, the Lost Children were given explicit instructions. While under the Second-in-Commandâs constructed administration, this group of orphans are to stalk and track the movement of the crew, attempting their best to keep the scoundrels off the land...and, if need be, fight tooth and nail to protect the beaches. However, the pirates have a similar interest regarding the Lost Children; capture and interrogate them to reveal Panâs whereabouts, his plans. After all, with luck, maybe the King has disappeared for good?
As the Lost Children and Pirates begin to generate foul play with one another, the tribes have begun to do the same. Tensions are starting to arise between the three races, the lack of their Heirs sprinkling even more stress unto their councils more so than before. In fact, accusations are now being casually dispensed, each clan eager to pin the blame on another...some even targeting their King, Peter Pan, for his neglect to provide protection.
The branches of the trees bow with the heavy load they are carrying, bending towards the floor. If only they could shake themselves like a dog covered in water does; they would be free. Everything glistens, as if a fairy has sprinkled her dust over the entirety of Neverland. Colours are brighter against the pure white blanket that spreads as far as the eye can see. There is a momentary hint of blue sky, and even this bit of light was enough to release a flash of diamonds across the wide landscape, so oddly disfigured by its snowy adventure. The clouds thicken once more and cover the sky, creating a mirror-like white blanket similar to the snow covered ground; the horizons blur together, except for the deep ocean that remains a shimmering grey reflecting the white sky. No matter what time of day it was, the clouds hid the light, preventing definite shadows. Since Pan's absence, the days of sunshine have been rare; when he returned, it would be less than a day for the magic to fuel Neverland once more. Still, the airs smells pure and fresh. Everything seems quieter, almost muffled. There is a sense of serenity in the atmosphere, adding to the eeriness and quietness.
Heavy white boots leave fresh, crisp footprints in the snow, as if he is the only person to have ever been here. Snowflakes fall gently from the sky, but are whipped up by the occasional gust of wind. At a distance behind Flint, the wind gradually covered his tracks with snow, leaving the terrain as smooth as it was before. The icy air whistled around his ears, causing his skin to tingle and sting. Thanfully, his fingers and toes are not numb. He was snug inside his many layers of clothes; his usual outfit was layered over with snow-appropriate gear. Every piece of this winter clothing is white or a light shade of blue, making it easy to blend in with the blizzard. To be honest, he likes this new sort of wintry weather, for it only started to happen when Pan leaves Neverland; it is not because of the snow, but because of the peace the lack of magic brought. Everything here lives and thrives on magic, but he does not. Still, he missed the clear night sky and moonlight that came with it. Yes, he really does want to return to the warm nights under the moon. Hurry up, Pan.
He treks up the steep hill to end up at the top of the bare cliff overshadowing the forest below. It was the prime spot for star gazing, meditation, or to throw oneself to oblivion, but his purpose is to survey the land. He slides his goggles onto his forehead to get a clearer view of the scene. The whistling wind catches his ears and he tugs on the ends of his hat, pulling them closer to his skin. Narrowing his eyes in the chill breeze, Flint focuses and takes in what he sees between the snowy white outs; the forest extends out for another couple kilometers, then shifts into a sandy, now snow-covered, beach and then the ocean stretches out to the blended horizon line. It was a picture he has seen many times over and he knew it all so well. However, the only things that change were those not of nature: ships and small boats that dot the ocean of ice. He glares at the ships he knows to belong to various pirates. In this cold, unforgiving climate, they are bound to try to approach the land some time. How long has it been, Hook? How long has it been since you... What? Left us? No... Abandoned. The memories frustrate and anger him. After all the years of not seeing anything of Hook, Flint is left to brew in his hatred. He brushes aside his emotions and reaches a couple fingers inside his collar; he pulls up a scarf over his face, slides on his goggles again, and turns around to make his way back down the snowy cliff.
Sliding down the snow is the easy part; a slight jump, and he can dig his feet into a pile of snow as it slides an carries him down the hill. Grabbing hold of branches and rocks to guide his way, he makes it back to the bottom in a fraction of the time it took to climb to the top of the cliff. He makes his way into the forest he had just surveyed, heading to the rendezvous location where he would regroup with the Lost Children. Each of them had their assignments from the night before. Target: Western coast. Once I have surveyed the from the cliff, I will be approaching from the East. Fang will be approaching from the North. His skills and reflexes, not to mention his reliability (in his own way), make him the ideal person to be in the forefront of the group. The forest is thinner in his area but this way he can keep a good view of the shoreline and monitor activity close up. Ram will be leading the way from the South, followed by Trees; their objective is to survey within the forest. Ram's tracking and sight makes her the perfect one to be in the forest because, despite the crowded atmosphere, she can see much that others cannot. Trees is to accompany her because he does best traversing a forested area. Hopefully Ram will get him to shut up that loud-mouthed boy when she needs to. Truly, Flint did not want to have to deal with this sort of mission right now, but he, too, had his responsibilities.
Flint finishes his mental checklist and approaches a particularly taller tree. Glancing up, he takes a couple steps back and then sprint up the side of it, gripping onto the lowest branch. He lifts himself up through the tree and climbs to the top, situating himself to a point where he is able to see over the tops of the trees to the ocean. Snow falls from a few branches and covers his mess in the snow. His clothing still allows him to blend in with the whitened canopy of the tree. While he is able to remain concealed, he can see the ground directly below the base of the tree. Now that he is off the cliff, he has a more direct and level view of the ships. He stares, or rather, glares, at the one assumed to belong to Hook and his crew, for they have yet to confront his particular band of pirates. Knowing he would be the first to arrive at this point, Flint waits, perfectly still and silent.
The day had been a long grueling one indeed, as his parents had sent orders across the whole family household, ordering left and right for clothes to be washed immediately, jewelry to be brought to the main suite room, and fresh bouquets to be bought to the Queen of the Kingsley house. His mother had a keen eye on everything that happened- it was not surprising that the children and the servants all called Mrs. Kingsley âHer Royal Highnessâ. It was of utmost importance that the Queen presented herself and her husband in the best of lights possible, lacing flowers into her hair and making sure that he was dressed in nothing but the finest of silk. Their shoes were made by the best shoemaker to be found across the whole world, and their fur-lined coats were made of wolves fur as imported from Canada. This opulence did not escape the boundaries of the Kingsley children, though. Out of all the royal families, it was obvious that the three children were the most pampered, even compared to the royal family that now resided in Birmingham Palace. Though, however, the distribution amongst the three children did vary. For Eloise, the Kingsleyâs bought dresses, skirts, books on womanly etiquette and beautiful embroidery tools in an attempt to calm the boyish young girl down. Rather improbable. Joshua had thought, chuckling lightly, when the embroidery case had been found broken and alone in a solitary corner of the large mansion.
For Callum, the Kingsley parents bathed with presents and candy, bestowing whatever the boy asked for. When Joshua was younger, he did envy his younger brother- but Joshua grew up and in turn also started to pamper his brother, handing him whatever of interest passed through his hands. Never was Callumâs needs passed by without an answer, and the Kingsleyâs placed a large emphasis on the young boyâs happiness. It was a ominous thing indeed within the Kingsley household if Callumâs laughter was not heard throughout the hallways along with the following shouts and pealing laughter of Eloiseâs beautiful voice. The two were, what Joshua believed, the young little cherubs of the Kingsley family- happy and free, not burdened by the potential future of the Kingsley family that controlled many facets of life and business in England and to the New World and Asia, controlling the lives and incomes of many a family throughout the different continents. They were free of the burden that Mr. Kingsley had placed on Joshua the moment he had been born, wailing in pain as cold air bathed over him and his motherâs voice had determinedly named him âJoshua Vernon Kingsleyâ.
As such, Joshua received near nothing of âfun-valueâ, or so most would say. He barely received any candies; rather, he received large novels and books on foreign lands and barbarians, and then later on economics and politics. He never was handed over personal servants; rather, Joshua personally selected his own house-tutors, learning the many languages of the world and the interesting, separate customs that each country had developed over the past few years. When Callum and Eloise had been easing through their English and French classes, Joshua was already fluent in Mandarin, English, French, the Germanic languages, Latin, Russian, Hebrew, Spanish, and most importantly, Italian. But the two younger siblings had definitely rubbed off on Joshua; he had been right beside his mother on both occasions as the Kingsley family had welcomed their two new young additions- and right then, Joshua knew that it was his life mission to protect the two from any harm. I am the oldest! He had said to his father once, when the head of the Kingsley family had asked if Joshua felt stressed by his future expectations. His father had only laughed, stating that Her Highness had given birth to a Guardian Angel more so than a future successful entrepreneur.
And so life continued within the Kingsley family household, each person settling comfortably- or not so much- into their respective placements of complacency or fierce competition; and this night was no less different from before.
Time: Present Day, 21:00 p.m.
Location: No.14, Bloomsbury Avenue
Joshua stood beside a row of maids each holding an opened box. Within each, upon expensive red satin cushions lay ties of many different colors, each obviously made from extremely expensive fabric from all corners of the world. âJoshua, your mother and I will be back at midnight,â Mr. Kingsley said as he allowed two butlers to fix on his pants and make sure that his dress shirt was impeccable and perfect. âI expect Callum and Princess off in bed before 10 oâclock, understand?â Joshua nodded, though he had already heard these orders many times before already. âJessica will help you with those two, as always. Tell them to not stress her out too much- she is already 80-years-old.â The eldest Kingsley member turned and checked his suited attire in an elaborated rimmed mirror. âGood. I will call for you two later, Smithson, Lynchester.â Mr. Kingsley tugged at his suit once, firmly, before turning around and walking towards a maid that stood on Joshuaâs other side, not with the women with the necktie choices. She held out a pair of white gloves almost reverently as the Master of the household slowly placed one on after the other, his face stern. âFor you, I expect lights out at midnight, no tomfoolery-,â His father took his cane that another servant held out for him, â-from you, especially. You know your mother and I hold high expectations for you, son.â
Mr. Kingsley patted him on the back and then motioned for Joshua to follow him. The two walked in silence until they reached the grand entrances of the mansion, all the maids and butlers of the Kingsley family already lined up in two rows, their heads bowed. Callum and Eloise were beside their mother as Mr. Kingsley and Joshua walked up to them. âWe will be on our way, then. Be a good girl, Princess, and you, too, Callum.â Mr. Kingsley placed light kisses on their foreheads. Mrs. Kingsley laughed and did the same as well, placing neat, little pecks on the three childrenâsâ foreheads. âBe good.â She said, her eyes lingering especially on Eloise before she meticulously placed her hand on her husbandâs arm and without another word, the two whisked off. âHave a nice time, mother, father.â Joshua called back to their receding figures, as a resounding âHave a nice time, master and mistress.â boomed throughout the halls of the Kingsley mansion.
Finally, the large doors closed behind the Kingsley parents and the maids, servants and butlers started to disperse to finish up their last jobs of the day. Joshua turned towards his two younger siblings, a small smile on his face. âWell, since we have our time to ourselvesâŠwhat do you two want to do now?â He asked, preparing himself for whatever antic his younger siblings were going to throw at his face. The halls of no.14, Bloomsbury Avenue was now within the jurisdiction of the two younger Kingsley children- but obviously, there were ears and eyes that kept them in check. What Joshua would never guess was that there was another separate pair, hovering in the air, waiting for the most opportune moment to strike at the stained calmness that constantly permeated throughout the Kingsley mansion.
"Damn it!" Said the captain of all pirates, James Hook. He kicked furiously at the ice encasing his ship and twitched with annoyance. Snow, winter, cold; they were things that most pirates found devastating, ugly, and disgusting. Hook displayed the most negative emotions when he felt even the softest blow of a chilling wind, "Why'd if have to snow all of a sudden? It's in the middle of summer!" He grumbled and began to climb back onto deck after nearly slipping clumsily on the ice. He cursed to himself as he regained the correct footing back on deck and straightened his coat before lounging back on the rail.
Hook always enjoyed summer. Summer. Summer was heat, cicadas, long days and short nights. Or in other words; Long days to cruise the ocean and feel the cool breeze with his crew while he spent the rest of his time on land, fooling with women and drinking his troubles away. What troubles, you may ask? That would be Peter Pan.
Hook cringed at the thought of his name.
Pan, the very man that Hook was after because of his cruel meaning for removing one of Hook's arm. But he has both arms, you may say. No, he doesn't. It may be an illusion, it may be a trick, it may be some kind of magic of his, he won't tell. But the fact is, Hook lost one of his arms, and he wanted his revenge. It was always on his mind and he wanted it badly. He'd sacrifice his own life to get Pan's and would even go as far as sacrificing his crew-
Wait... Would he really?
Hook looked at his crew; Soleil, Scout, Roan, and Lucifer. They were a small bunch, but then again, they were all he needed, and after abandoning, or rather, being killed out of the Lost Children from a long while ago, they were his next and new family. Would he risk them, too, to get at Pan?
Hook sighed and let his head hang. He was far beyond frustration, "I need a cigarette..." He muttered tiredly and then called a little louder, hoping, childishly, that someone on the deck would hear him and bring his needs. He coughed for attention, "I think it'd be really nice if I could have a cigarette at the moment." He said a little louder.
A snowflake landed on his nose and he sneezed, then grumbled, 'Damn its cold...' He thought and looked up at the grey sky that produced the very thing that he so much hated. He went back into his deep thought, one that made him wear an emotionless face that was unreadable, even by his crew, who knew him so well. Whenever Hook went into that phase, no one could tell what he was planning or thinking. That was the way it worked and always was. Then, he thought, 'Right... Pan wants them, the heirs. Maybe... Maybe I'll find them before him and blackmail? That sounds nice, although there's a lot of risk in that too... And it'll be trouble trying to find them... Mmm...'
Even outside his thinking, the side that everyone else saw, Hook was making odd faces as he thought. He might have always been seen as the villain, but he, too, used to be something called human.
Ram paused in her footsteps for a moment. She ran her fingers gently along the line of tracks belonging to a man, 'Large, heavy, slow, headed towards the shore...' She looked up to where the obscured footsteps sunk into the piling snow that lead straight ahead. A normal person's eye sight wouldn't see as well as hers. Perhaps her name should have been Eagle, because she could track and hunt anything if needed. Ram's bow began to fall off her shoulder and she readjusted it while she stood up tall and then rubbed the back of her neck, puffing out a cloud of frustration into the frozen air, "Hook... He wouldn't be alone. This would be someone belonging to his crew, probably. But it's a man's foot prints. Or perhaps its a drunken man's? Its headed towards the shore though, that could lead to something..." She murmured to herself out loud and began to follow the footsteps, only hoping that her little brother was following behind her.
That's who they were tracking, wasn't it? Hook. The name made Ram grimace with disgust. They knew him. They actually knew that monster, and were attached to him in such a friendly family way that it was only until he betrayed them that they realized what a mistake they made by putting their trust in that man. Ram frowned, recalling those beautiful memories that now faded to horrifying nightmares of the past.
But while she thought about these things, she realized that the expression she was making was not one she'd want others to see, so she wiped it clear off her face and huffed out another cloud and continued walking, now smiling while she saw the little specks of white fall from the sky, "Isn't it summer? Wasn't it summer? Since when did the seasons pass so soon?" She asked herself and holding her palm out as a light flake fell onto it, then melted slowly into a small drop of water.
Ram loved winter. She loved the snow. It was her favorite season of all, and the coldness embraced her more like a blanket than a chilling sense. It was wonderful, and she loved it.
But she had to focus.
Pan wasn't with them; the only leader that Ram actually looked to. Flint was second in command, however, she could never see him the same position as she would with Pan. To her, Flint was just another one of the Lost Children, but not someone with command in power. Although, she did somewhat see him as an elder. Maybe that was why she was going on the mission that he tasked her and the others to do. Or maybe it was because she just wanted to find the man who betrayed them all.
She didn't quite know, and right now, she didn't have time to think about what she knew and didn't, so she focused her eyes back onto the trail. There was a quick sound of blowing wind past her ear and she immediately grabbed an arrow, putting it between her fingers and laying into the bow's placement and shot it without hesitation to where this noise was coming from.
A bush wavered at the hit of her arrow and a crow flew out into the open sky within a blink of an eye. Ram sighed and brought her hand to her forehead, stressed, and muttered, "Why is it that I always tend to shoot any noise in such an empty area..." She called to her brother, Trees, for him to follow her as she continued to follow the tracks.
There's one little individual among all the hectic around the 'queen' of Kingsley's manor who is different than the others, doesn't seem to share their stress but instead, thoroughly enjoyed all the hurry with a radiant delight. The fourteen years old boy had his eyes on one certain box, wherein a certain cloth dwells he desired for long. Batik, a traditional fabric from Indonesia, he even heard all were hand-made. He researched and found several of motives, all of them he really liked. How can he resist to that temptation? Right answer: He can't. He refused to resist. In fact, five minutes from now, it'll belong him and him only, he was sure of it. And once he was determinate doing something, he would never give up until he reached the goal.
It seemed that he was lucky. Even without doing anything, the fabric was rejected by the queen, knowing well that it wouldn't be appropriate wear apropos the party which she'd be coming to. Therefore it wandered, from hand to hand, from maid to maid through the big and beautiful halls without any pause. Callum merely followed, pretending he was strolling around (a very lousy attempt to pretend because he was too excited, but not like anyone notice anyway) until eventually the fabric made its stop at the storage among all the other clothes. For Callum: This was obviously heaven.
He then went inside, tiptoed and reached for the treasure with his both hands... and there it was. A brown background with several of repeating motives placed on it, flowers, feathers, whatsoever for Callum's heart content. A beautiful cloth he soon secretly put inside his pockets, which were suspiciously stuffed...
It did not take long until he received the presents. Of course, he was happy. He thanked both of his parents in an appropriate manner, but that seemed to be it. No one would've suspected him to be ungrateful; his act full of glee and happiness was too deceiving to be untrue. However, sadly, that was the case. No, it was not because he wanted more. Callum was not greedy in such things. Rather, it disappointed him that they didn't know what he really desired. True, he could just tell them what he wished for, that wasn't a problem at all. But what were they for parents who didn't even know what their children desired? Even the maids know better! Callum quietly sighed. Perhaps in that aspect, he could count as a tad bit greedy and selfish.
"Don't eat everything at once!" Was the advice they gave him, and he just grinned. Knowing well one individual who wouldn't be saving if it's about sweets... He took several (okay, the most) boxes full of candies and put it on his sister's bed. No, heck, not due to kindness! On the contrary! He wanted to enjoy her little outburst; or with other words, he wanted to pick on her two years older sister for his own pleasure. Nothing weird to do, agreed? And Callum suspected she needed that little "entertainment", because again, her presents were all things she disliked. Clothes, she disliked. You can bet that Callum made a fun out of it, to tease her about that. "Well well now, you must agree that my clothes are way better right, my Barbie doll?" He said then while he laughed and ran away from her, as always, until the queen came to lecture them on their childish and inappropriate behaviour.
âWe will be on our way, then. Be a good girl, Princess, and you, too, Callum.â
"I'll be a good boy, of course, have I ever disappointed you, ma, pa?" It was a rhetorical question, wasn't to be answered. "And I will watch over my dear sister to do the same, so do not worry!" He smiled to reassure, but failed miserably through how naughty it looked like. Callum enjoyed their touch, winked and went back inside. âWell, since we have our time to ourselvesâŠwhat do you two want to do now?â Callum stared up to his brother (one can feel the evident difference of height) and laughed. "Brother, was that question directed to me?" There was a hint of a naughty hidden agenda swinging within his voice. "Let's party in our chambers 'til midnight!" He said with a smirk and soon dragged both of his older siblings upstairs.
It seemed that he was lucky. Even without doing anything, the fabric was rejected by the queen, knowing well that it wouldn't be appropriate wear apropos the party which she'd be coming to. Therefore it wandered, from hand to hand, from maid to maid through the big and beautiful halls without any pause. Callum merely followed, pretending he was strolling around (a very lousy attempt to pretend because he was too excited, but not like anyone notice anyway) until eventually the fabric made its stop at the storage among all the other clothes. For Callum: This was obviously heaven.
He then went inside, tiptoed and reached for the treasure with his both hands... and there it was. A brown background with several of repeating motives placed on it, flowers, feathers, whatsoever for Callum's heart content. A beautiful cloth he soon secretly put inside his pockets, which were suspiciously stuffed...
It did not take long until he received the presents. Of course, he was happy. He thanked both of his parents in an appropriate manner, but that seemed to be it. No one would've suspected him to be ungrateful; his act full of glee and happiness was too deceiving to be untrue. However, sadly, that was the case. No, it was not because he wanted more. Callum was not greedy in such things. Rather, it disappointed him that they didn't know what he really desired. True, he could just tell them what he wished for, that wasn't a problem at all. But what were they for parents who didn't even know what their children desired? Even the maids know better! Callum quietly sighed. Perhaps in that aspect, he could count as a tad bit greedy and selfish.
"Don't eat everything at once!" Was the advice they gave him, and he just grinned. Knowing well one individual who wouldn't be saving if it's about sweets... He took several (okay, the most) boxes full of candies and put it on his sister's bed. No, heck, not due to kindness! On the contrary! He wanted to enjoy her little outburst; or with other words, he wanted to pick on her two years older sister for his own pleasure. Nothing weird to do, agreed? And Callum suspected she needed that little "entertainment", because again, her presents were all things she disliked. Clothes, she disliked. You can bet that Callum made a fun out of it, to tease her about that. "Well well now, you must agree that my clothes are way better right, my Barbie doll?" He said then while he laughed and ran away from her, as always, until the queen came to lecture them on their childish and inappropriate behaviour.
âWe will be on our way, then. Be a good girl, Princess, and you, too, Callum.â
"I'll be a good boy, of course, have I ever disappointed you, ma, pa?" It was a rhetorical question, wasn't to be answered. "And I will watch over my dear sister to do the same, so do not worry!" He smiled to reassure, but failed miserably through how naughty it looked like. Callum enjoyed their touch, winked and went back inside. âWell, since we have our time to ourselvesâŠwhat do you two want to do now?â Callum stared up to his brother (one can feel the evident difference of height) and laughed. "Brother, was that question directed to me?" There was a hint of a naughty hidden agenda swinging within his voice. "Let's party in our chambers 'til midnight!" He said with a smirk and soon dragged both of his older siblings upstairs.
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