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Peter Pan

"Growin' up is a terrible hin' "

0 · 735 views · located in Worlds of Wonder

a character in “Three Teacups Full of Fairy Dust”, as played by Ivisbo

Description

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"Followin' others is fur tha' troaps that dorn't know what the' want in life.






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Name: Peter Barrie Pan

Nickname: "Ye can call me Captain. Or Peter...Or Pan. But Captains bet'er"

Age: 19

Accent: Scottish

Likes:
General mischief
Sunny days
Forests and the outdoors
Adventures, but only ones that were his idea first
Sparkly things, such as treasure, glitter, blonde hair, or faeries

Dislikes:
Storms
Dishonesty
Growing up
Orders or rules in general
Authority figures
Death in any way, shape, or form
Television



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Fears:"Becomin' one ay them...and death. Not fur me'self but fur others I know"
What Peter fears most is growing into an uncaring, boring adult. He is also terrified of death and fears witnessing it first hand. He can't even stand to watch someone die on the tele.

Hobbies: "Flyin' and playin' tha' flute. And ay coorse, causin' mayhem fur those crusty old adults!"
The general hobbies Mr. Pan entertains himself with are flying, usually in the woods were he can dodge trees like an acrobat, and playing the pan flute (which he has grown quiet good at). Of course, there is his daily hobby in which he terrorizes the adults that try to put him in his 'place'.

Powers: "Weel, first aff, I can fly. Also, I can dae this craz'y thin' wit' mah shadow"
Peter can fly, as the story books told, but he can also control his shadow. His shadow manipulation only extends to shadows that he himself casts, not to shadows around him. He can use his 'other' to search out information for him, confuse his enemy, and even fight against a foe. Peter also enjoys the numerous pranks he can pull...shadows do scare people. But, if he is not careful with his treatment of his shadow, the dark form can go against him and do its own wickedness. Its a tricky business playing with the darkness and you have to be on your toes to do so correctly.

Strengths: "Ah, everythin'! I'am good at everythin'!"
Acrobatic, playing the flute, and working his way out of impossible situations. For instance, Peter could be in the clutches of a cop and being dragged to a police car, but somehow he is able to weasel his way out and escape. He is also honest to the bone, though most people think he's a liar. He can manipulate his words to benefit himself, but he never ever tells a lie. Lies are for adults and Peter never wants to become one.

Flaws:"Are ye sayin' I have a flaw?"
He can't cook at all, though he can boil water and pour cereal. He also holds a certain disdain for televisions and has once thrown a shoe through someones large flatscreen. Peter hates school, but what people don't know is that its mostly because he can't read. He was never taught, but he gets by all the same.




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Personality: "Weel, I'am fantastic, that's aw ye need tae know."
Peter has a massive ego. He thinks very highly of himself and isn't afraid to show it. He has a flamboyant, charismatic personality that makes people want to do things with him. Others are just naturally drawn to his large boyish grin and happy aura. Peter never allows people to see his true feelings, always hiding behind a mask of grinning mischief. He loves to pull pranks and cause general mayhem, especially to anyone that even attempts to tell him what to do. He detests orders, authority figures (teachers, police, mailmen) and usually makes his opinion very obvious. Peter rarely lies, unless its a small white lie that helps him with a prank. His feelings for others are obvious and point blank- sometimes he appears rude because of his lack of 'holding back'. But this is all apart of Peters charm, he seldom lets others get hurt by his opinions, rather he simply states the truth.

Peter misses Neverland dearly. He dreams of it in his sleep and stars off into the distance while he's awake, imagining the cool breeze and unnaturally blue waters. His mind is stuck there, stuck in the land that welcomed him as a King and saved him from a lifetime of misery. Others will often catch Peter stuck in his state of dreaming, though he will shake it off instantly and go back to his normal, smiling self. Beneath his facade, Peter is miserable. He longs for the island so much it has sunk into his bones, sometimes even giving him trouble with flying. Happy thoughts are hard to come by when all you can think of is the past.

History: "Mah past? Weel, I hail from th' stoatin islain ah Scotland. I grew up near th' sea wit' mah mum an' da'..."
They were a poor family, almost unable to even buy bread for themselves, but somehow they got by on a few mouthfuls of food a week. Peter was only eleven when it became apparent his mother was pregnant with another child, and nether parent knew what to do.

Months past and his father slowly started drinking his worries away. He would come home and drunkenly scream and yell at Peter and his mother, but he never touched them. Six months into his mothers pregnancy, during a horrible storm and lashed against the house with wailing wings, Peter was awoken one night to the sound of slamming doors and loud footsteps. They pounded up the staircase and burst through his door, three men covered in head to toe in black. He screamed and scrambled away, yelling for his mother and father as he frantically tried to escape. The men grabbed him, gagged him, and tied him up. The largest one threw him over his shoulder without a word and left the room, heading for the kitchen and front door exit. His father waited by the front door and Peter wiggled to try and escape the man. His father would surely save him, he was fine...

One of the men handed his father a pouch full of coins and smirked...then without a word they left the small cottage with Peter strung up and crying. They threw him in the back of their horse drawn cart and took off into the night. Peter did not move, did not try and escape, he simply laid amongst the wet straw and cried, wishing what he saw had not been true. His father, selling him for a small sack of coins....it could not be.

Peter was taken to a slave house in the city and thrown in amongst other boys around his age. They were kept in horrible conditions, their own filth filled the floors and the food was covered in flies. The adults that took care of them were less them pleasant- one man didn't have any teeth and enjoyed smiling at the boys and running his tongue along his digesting black gums. Peter was not sure how much time passed in the slave house, but eventually they were dragged out to the docks and forced onto a boat. The boys were crammed below in space barely big enough for them to stand and then the ship left port.

The seas around Scotland were not calm as the slave ship sailed across the sea. Choppy waters swung the ship back and forth, causing the boys below to grow sick (which only led to more sickness). The whole time, Peter remained tucked into a corner, his tired eyes restlessly watching the entrance to the deck above. He knew he had to escape before they reached port, it was their only way out. So he waited, his eyes never leaving the latched door.

A rather nasty storm had picked up outside, forcing the ship to push on through massive cascading waters. It thrashed the slaves below, sent them flying and wailing, and sent water over the railings above that leaked downstairs. Peter saw his chance right then and took it. He surged forward, leaping over the crying boys below him, and threw the latched door open onto the ship deck. Crew mates were hurriedly tying ropes, hoping to control the sails as this beast of a storm took control of the ship. Peter wet unnoticed by the crew and that was exactly how he wanted it to be. He slipped up onto the deck and closed the latched, then moved to go towards the dingy hanging off the side.

Just then, the crew started screaming. The ship took a violent turn, hefting itself towards the left as if someone- or something- had pushed it. Peter grabbed the railing and peered over the side, his eyes growing wide at the sight before him. A massive swirling vortex of water awaited the ship, its waters pulling the vessel closer and closer while the sails fought against it. Peter screamed, his chest heaving for air, but it was too late. In under twenty seconds, the ship was sucked underwater with the crew aboard.

Peter has never been sure what happened after the ship was pulled in, but one second they were drowning and screaming and praying, and the next to ship sprang up onto still waters. A beautiful island lay before them, a cloudless sky above, and the brightest waters he had ever seen around them. Peter stared, his eyes wide with wonder and amazement. The island called to him, played a song for only his ears, reaching her warm fingers for the little boy clutching the ship. He answered her.

Neverland cared for Peter like a mother, helped him find food and shelter, even allowed her faeries to treat the poor boys wounds. The island whispered to him at night, crooned into his ears and made him feel safe. When it asked what he most desired in the world, Peter answered that he never wanted to turn into an adult. He never wanted to become one of those misshapen humans that only thought of money and forsake love and happiness to get it. Neverland granted him this and allowed Peter to never leave the form of a 16 year old boy.

Peter became Peter Pan, Prince of Neverland and Captain of the Lost Boys. He saved the slave kids from the ship and brought them to the island, where they became the Lost Boys and partook in his various schemes and shenanigans. They never had to worry about anything, Neverland made sure that the boys were taken care of and stayed happy. The ship Peter and the Lost Boys had arrived on turned out to be a pirate ship, crewed by a gruesome sort of men that remained a black mark of evil in the beautiful island waters. Peter took it upon himself to drive the pirates crazy, as they were adults and deserved it. But he never hurt anyone, Gods no, not until the evil Captain tried to feed him to a crocodile and instead had his own hand bitten off. He continued from then on, flirting with the mermaids, helping the natives, saving kids from the horrors of growing old, and playing with Tinkerbell and the other faeries.

Peter lived happily for years, centuries, hours? He had no idea how much time he spent on Neverland, as time was not a matter to be thought of. Either way, on the day that the great a great hole ripped open in the skies above him and proceeded to suck him in. He screamed and fought the pull, but soon enough he was ripped from his island and forced through the fissure. He landed on the forest floor, face down and crying. The world around him was not Neverland, not even close. Here the shadows did not sing songs, the lights did not twinkly brightly and call to him. The leaves did not move to encompass the boy King and Peter could no longer hear the sweet voice of his mother Neverland.

So begins...

Peter Pan's Story

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Character Portrait: Peter Pan
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#, as written by Ivisbo
Morning times were always the worse for Peter. Days that he awoke and still thought he was with the Lost Boys, days that he wanted to fling himself from wherever he happened to sleep that night and crow at the top of his lungs. Mornings was the time to celebrate new day filled with adventure, but not anymore.

Peters mornings now meant a mad scuffle to pack up his blankets into his dirt caked bag and hurry off to the homeless shelter for food. Mornings meant standing in line, his dirty red hair crusted with grime and soot, as he followed behind the old men in front of him for a free meal. Mornings meant that he had to look down at himself once more, see his too-short jeans that revealed his bare ankles, his dark green hoodie that no longer reached to his thin wrists- all the signs that pin pointed that he was growing.

Two Years.

Two years Peter had been surviving in the real world without the love and care of his dear Neverland. The Lost Boys had been abandoned, Tinkerbell was lost to him, and Captain Hook probably sailed his damned ship without a care in the world. For two years, Peter had longed for Neverland and dreamed of her blue waters, green tropical forests, and high mountainous peaks. He ached for his world so badly it hurt him physically; he sometimes found himself clutching at his chest in pain when he thought back to his glory days.

Now, all he did was survive and move and grow. He was already much taller then he had been in Neverland; lanky and thin. Someone (an old homeless lady with missing teeth) had once guessed him to be around 6’1 and though he really didn’t understand measurement, he knew that he had grown incredibly fast since he crash landed on this world. His hair grew now; he had to cut it to keep it from falling into his face. The color was no longer bright and vibrant; orange had turned into a mixture of red and brown. Thankfully his eyes still shone green, but they were now filled with sadness instead of the boyish excitement that once gleamed from their depths.

Peter was not made for this world and it showed in every movement he made and every line of his face.

He moved around the inner city of London, staying close to the shelters that offered him free food and occasional lodging. When he first arrived he would have scoffed at the idea of standing in line with a bunch of adults for a sorry cup of soup. He was caught many times for stealing, sent to jail, grew a record…but he was Peter Pan; King of Neverland and Ruler of the Lost Boys.

Then winter hit, a winter filled with snow and cold and shivering muscles. Peter had never experienced cold; Neverland was a place of perpetual summer. He starved the first week, got sick from sleeping outdoors in the snow, and a week later finally allowed the shelters to treat him and give him a place to sleep.

He looked for a job for a bit, but he couldn’t read and had no identification; he basically did not exist. After that, Peter gave up. This world was not made for him at all and he was not made for it.

He went about his same daily schedule without a second thought, following like a cow called to the slaughter house. Peter realized that his actions were causing him to age but he had long since decided that he did not want to remain young in a world he did not want to even live with. He couldn't even fly anymore; happy thoughts had left him. His shadow occasionally allowed Peter some company, but even controlling his shadow was difficult now.



Peter stared out att he harsh shoreline of the furious sea, his dark green eyes running along the rough waves as they toppled over each other in a mad rush for the shoreline. He imagined walking out into it, allowing the salty waters to envelope him and pull him back to his world of perfect blue waters and softy sandy beaches. He would see Tink again, the Lost Boys, maybe even Wendy awaited him in Neverland. SHe would be so confused if she arrived their and the King was gone....but she would also be confused if she ever saw him now.

He turned his head away, casting his vision down the ocean side road and banishing the thoughts of suicide and silly girls. Brighton was filled with beeping cars and loud tourists pointing and yelling; a great place to find a few scraps of food and a couple coins for a good bed. Tourists loved to throw money at him; he was once told he had the right look for pan-handeling. Sad, boyish looks that made people want to make him smile. Brighton was a tourists paradise and Peter would be taking advantage of that for a few days. With one last look towards the sea, he pulled his overfilled backpack over his shoulders and lopped across the street, striding right into the heart of the city to find a good spot to set of shop for the day.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alice Kingsley Character Portrait: Peter Pan
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"The tea is wonderful today, Hatter!" Alice smiled brightly as she stood on top of the table, holding her cup over the ruckus bellow her. The mouse was crawling over the tables and chairs with the hare behind him, holding the hare's watch.

"Thank you, Alice, and a happy happy un-birthday to you!" The hatter said, grabbing the stopwatch from the mouse and spreading peanut butter over the clock face in another attempt to get it working.

"You've said that five times, Hatter! But a merry unbirthday to you as well, I suppose!" Alice giggled and held her cup up high into the air in a toast before taking a long sip of the tea. It was herbal and nice-tasting and smelled like non-sentient flowers. Sentient flowers smelled just fine too, but they were horribly mean. After a moment, the hare and the mouse sat back into their seats and toasted their un-birthdays while Alice cheerily dodged the hare's cup-- which was thrown at her the moment the toast was over. Though, that didn't seem to last long, because after a moment they seemingly just disappeared into the nearby air. Alice, thinking it was them hiding for an un-birthday surprise party, looked under the table, but they were no where to be found.

"Hare? Hatter!?" she said with a hint of anxiousness to her tone, jumping up and down on the table she was standing at. But they were gone. She frowned and sat back down in her chair, looking around for them. But they weren't coming back, so she simply shut her eyes and waited for a moment. They did that sometimes- they wanted to surprise her and would just wait around until she played along. When she opened them, however, she wasn't in wonderland. She was sitting Indian style outside of the rabbit hole, which was filled in with dirt.

"No no no no nonononono," she said as she leaned forward and started to dig through the dirt covering the rabbit hole at a hectic pace. "Not happening, not happening. It's just a trick. Hatter! It's not fun any more! I'm not having a very good unbirthday!" her fingers began to be packed with dirt, but she didn't care.


Alice awoke with a start, her fingers still clutching at imaginary dirt and tears still staining her eyes. She looked around the room, still expecting herself to be outside of the rabbit hole. But no, she was at home. With Wendy. Suddenly she became very claustrophobic. She would go to her room, but she knew she couldn't. Wonderland was ingrained in the walls there. So outside it was.

"Wendy- I'm going out again. I'm just going to... I'm going to change," she said slowly, standing and walking to her room. She opened the door quickly and rushed to her closet, pulling it open and closed behind her. There was no way she could look at her room right now, not for longer than she had to. She pulled her clothing off at a hectic pace, the constant feeling she was going to be horribly sick filling her senses.

She changed into a simple yellow top with capped sleeves and blue jeans before pulling on a pair of sandals and rushing out of the room, going out of her window instead of out of the door. She couldn't face Wendy at the moment. She just couldn't. The questions would hurt. She grabbed her purse as she jumped out and rushed down the street, her face downcast. She walked for who knows how long, but she stopped about five minutes after she began when she ran into someone.

"I-I'm sorry. My minds somewhere else. It's in... it's somewhere in the stars," she mumbled, not wanting to say wonderland just yet. And wonderland wasn't really in the stars, of course, but in her mind it should be. It belonged in the heavens, not down in the dirt. As she looked up at the person, she suddenly became even more sad at her predicament. He looked, well, homeless. Matted dirty hair and clothing several sizes to small. She shook her head for a moment- how could she be sad about one of the best experiences in her life when there were people homeless out and about!

"Oh, you poor thing!" she said quickly as she looked him over. His face wasn't right, but his hair reminded her of the hatter. Not quite the correct shade of vibrant red, but his eyes were. Vibrant green. Missing the specks of gold though. Without her even truly knowing what she was doing, she raised her hand up and placed it on his cheek. She blinked a few times and even muttered "I missed you" before she realized that no, he was not the hatter. He was just a face on the street. She quickly drew her hand away and backed up a few steps and apologized more than once before she felt it was okay for her to talk to him again.

"I-I'm sorry. You reminded me of someone... someone I used to know," she said before looking at him sadly. "Would- Would you like to stay at my house for tonight? You look a bit... out of shape," and you remind me of him... I need someone to remind me of him, she almost added, but she didn't.

"It's just up the road. You can smell the sea. My roommate won't get in your way. Wendy just reads and writes a lot. She's real fun to talk to though... loves to tell stories. Sometimes we take turns telling each other stories!" she said, trying to make her home sound fun for him. "Never mind that. You can sleep on the couch. Come on hatter!" she said happily before grabbing his hand and turning. "Oh, sorry. I called you.. I called you the hatter just then, didn't I? I'm sorry, what is your name?" she said quickly, letting go of his hand. You let yourself go again, Alice. They aren't coming back. You aren't going back. You are here now. You live with Wendy and Ranvir and Cheshire, she thought as she brought herself back to reality.

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Character Portrait: Alice Kingsley Character Portrait: Peter Pan
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#, as written by Ivisbo
The streets of Brighton were fairly crowded, forcing Peter to snake in and out of crowds, trying to avoid knocking people with his bag. Most of the citizens barely glanced his way as he passed- he was after all, just another street kid. The thought didn't bother him as much as it once would have, mostly because he just didn't care anymore. The attention he once craved and seeked in his younger days had eluded him- now it seemed more of a chore then anything.

The dirty red head slipped out from a rather massive crowd gathered in front of a bakery (they were advertising their over priced muffins for 30% off- a deal, for sure, but still overpriced). He turned just in time to catch sight of a blonde head before she crashed into him, causing him to knock his bag against one of the customers waiting in the line that had carried out to the street. Peter muttered a quick apology to the man, who gave him a disgusted look, before turning back to the blonde girl.

"I-I'm sorry. My minds somewhere else. It's in... it's somewhere in the stars," The girl mumbled softly, almost too faint for him to hear. He peered at her, very much interested in her choice of words. He had once been amongst the stars and it was definitely the place to be.

"No need ta-"

"Oh, you poor thing!" The girl cried out, interrupting his sentence. He had been about to tell her not to apologize for having your head in the stars, that the stars were where ones head should be, but he let his sentence run could. Peter frowned at her, wanting to turn and leave as soon as he heard the pity in her voice. He hated the pity that liquified in peoples eyes when they look upon him- it made him feel small and insignificant.

The girl continued to talk a mile a minute and Peter simply wanted to walk by her, when she suddenly said something that caused him to swivel his green eyes down to her blue ones, "Would- Would you like to stay at my house for tonight? You look a bit... out of shape. It's just up the road. You can smell the sea. My roommate won't get in your way. Wendy just reads and writes a lot. She's real fun to talk to though... loves to tell stories. Sometimes we take turns telling each other stories!"

She barely gave Peter a second to answer her, continuing on like she had a motor strapped to her jaw. Peter frowned at her, then simply waited for her to stop. Yes, he would probably take her up on her offer, especially if dinner was available. It wasn't often a stranger would offer him a place to sleep, especially one that was not creepy or crazy (though he wasn't so sure the blondie wasn't crazy. His eyes flickered a moment at the mention of her roommates name, but he had learned that many girls were named Wendy. Just because she happened to tell stories did not mean that she was the same stubborn girl.


"Never mind that. You can sleep on the couch. Come on hatter!" Peter did not move as she grabbed his hand and attempted to pull him off back the way she came, "Oh, sorry. I called you.. I called you the hatter just then, didn't I? I'm sorry, what is your name?"

"Now slow doon a minute lassie!" Peter finally blurted out, placing his hands on his hips as he arched a brow at the shorter girl, "You calmed down? Alrecht....my name is Peter an' Ah woods be delighted tae stay wi' ye, " He forced a brilliant smile reminiscent of his old days, hoping she wouldn't suddenly retract her offer, "I'm a wee confused at tae why, but if ye have a hot plate an' a bed Ah won't be turnin' it doon. Ah loove stories an' Ah got a few good ones myself Ah can offer as payment if ye woods like."

Peter took a step away, towards the direction she had started in and tilted his head down he road, "Lead th' way....whats yer name?"

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Character Portrait: Alice Kingsley Character Portrait: Peter Pan
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Alice tilted her head to the side when he said his name was Peter. Wendy had mentioned a red-haired Peter on more than one occasion. Still, she didn't want to over think things. He was probably not the Peter that Wendy talked about sometimes. When he mentioned being confused, she giggled a bit and nodded her head.

"Confused is good! It means you aren't big headed and think you know everything. I once met a woman- a queen, that is, the Red Queen- who was so big headed in her brain that her head grew ten times to big. She thought she was the prettiest thing in the world still though. Had her cards paint the roses red. She was a funny thing," she muttered, thinking back to her days in wonderland.


"Lead th' way....whats yer name?" he said, and she crinkled her nose as she thought about it. She was still stuck in wonderland, where everyone knew her name without having to ask her. That had started to be the norm for her, then. "Oh, My name is Alice. Alice Kingsley," she said before skipping away back to the house, in a much better mood.

The room was very dark when she oped the door, which caused Alice to wonder where Wendy might have gone. "Wendy! Wendy! Darling, Where aree you?" she said as she left the open door and looked under the couch, though there was no way she could have found her way under the couch. She could have gotten into my shrinking potion, she thought to herself as she looked under the other pieces of furniture, every so often running her hands over the floor.

"Did you leave, Wendy! Was it the Pirates again!?" she said and giggled at her own words. She often joked with Wendy about her need to call her brothers every few days so they wouldn't worry she was taken by Pirates. Though, Alice supposed she shouldn't joke about that. If she'd been gone for longer than normal people had the right to worry the Red Queen had escaped exile. "I can call your brothers! Tell them to man up and go find you!" she said before realizing there was someone else in the room.

"Oh, sorry. You probably think I'm mad. I think I might be. I was just looking for Wendy though. She probably went our for food with Ranvir. Wonder why she didn't take Cheshire too though..." she muttered before pointing to the cat that was still sleeping on the couch. She patted the cat's head and sat down on the couch before looking back at Peter.

"Make yourself comfy. Wendy is out right now. She can figure out where you can sleep-- not my room or her's, of course, but the couch is a little bit lumpy so she might not want you to sleep on that. Oh! And the shower is just through there," she pointed to the back near her room, "It's right next to my room. You can use it if you like. I'm sure we have clothing somewhere around here you can borrow. I bought clothing for the Hatter once-- just in case I ever saw him again. He needs more than that patchwork suit. You can use some of those," she said as she got up and walked to her room, running over to her closet and grabbing some unused male clothing out of the back. She placed them into the bathroom before smiling politely and walking back to the living area.

She patted Cheshire's head and pulled one of her books from the shelves in the corner. Wendy's books had a distinct lack of pictures, and Alice loved pictures. She flipped through the pages as she read, occasionally looking over to the door. She knew Wendy was perfectly fine, probably, but she couldn't help but worry.

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Character Portrait: Alice Kingsley Character Portrait: Peter Pan
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#, as written by Ivisbo
Peter followed behind the strange girl named Alice, still slightly confused but fine with following her for now. His only other plans would have been to sit and beg for money for a hot meal and this way it meant he got it for free and little to no work. Peter was still extremely confused why she was readily bringing him into her home- he could be a murderer for all she knew. Or he could steal everything in her home...which wasn't a bad idea...

The walk was filled with mostly Alice prattling on and skipping- to which Peter paid little to no attention to. Girls were still confusing to him, even though he had been in this world for two years now. Most girls ignored him- he smelled bad and was usually covered in dirt. A few of the street kids found him attractive, but after hearing a few of the more 'adult' things that happened between a man and a woman, Peter basically stayed away from the whole 'girl' thing.

Peter hung back a bit as Alice walked into her home, calling out to this 'Wendy' of hers. He was little disturbed by the name and wished she would stop repeating it, but he wasn't about to complain outwardly. He awkwardly stood by the door while she searched her home- would this Wendy really fit underneath the couch? After a bit Peter took a step inside, glancing around the nicely furnished home while he tried to keep his muddy shoes off the clean carpet.

"Oh, sorry. You probably think I'm mad. I think I might be. I was just looking for Wendy though. She probably went our for food with Ranvir. Wonder why she didn't take Cheshire too though..." Peter watched her stroke the cat softly, then sit down on the couch. He had never been one for pets, most of the animals on Neverland could talk so it would have made it strange to 'keep' them.

Alice continued to prattle on, something he was starting to grow fond of. Tink used to gesture wildly ad talk like this girl...she even had the same light blonde hair. Peters eyes flickered up to Alice's locks as she spoke, slightly caught by the light soft of them. Reminded him of the glitter of treasure that Hook was to obsessed with....

"....You can use it if you like. I'm sure we have clothing somewhere around here you can borrow. I bought clothing for the Hatter once-- just in case I ever saw him again. He needs more than that patchwork suit. You can use some of those"

Peter wasn't exactly sure what to say to her Hatter comments, s he just smiled and nodded, "Dae I really reek 'at bad? Yer shovin' me in th' shower first thin'! Alrecht, I'll be back in a moment...." Peter turned and started to walk back down the direction she had showed him the bathroom was located in. He paused fora second though, scratch the back of his head in embarrassment, then turned, "And Alice? Thenk ye, yoo'll ne'er understan' what thes all means tae me." Peter smiled brilliantly at her, then whisked himself off to the bathroom.

He stood in front of the mirror for a moment, staring at himself in the reflection. God, he was older. He had been in a bathroom not to long ago and even since then his face had aged. He could even see the beginning of stumble growing along his chin, mixed in with the massive amount of freckles that contrasting strongly against his pale face. He had never been this light, not in Neverland. Peter was used to having sun-kissed skin, a gift from the land of perpetual summer. He locked with his eyes for a moment, his brows pulling together as he attempted to read himself. He could feel the weight of his years dragging down on him, the whimsicalness of Neverland disappearing from his bones and being replaced by the dragging gravity of Earth. He could imagine what it would be like to grow old, grow a beard, have kids....something he never ever thought about in Neverland.

Quickly, Peter ripped his eyes away. He turned the shower on full blast, pulled his grimy clothes away, and stepped into the warm mist. He allowed his body to relax under the steamy spray, imagining instead a hot spring waterfall and the mermaids surrounding him...

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Alice laughed loudly at his comment over his smell before he rushed to the bathroom. In truth, she wasn't really bothered by it. The caterpillar always smelled like smoke in Wonderland, and the hare almost never bathed and was caked in dust from head to toe almost constantly. In fact, while most people and things in Wonderland regularly bathed, it was home to a host of strange smells and sights and things of the like. She'd just grown used to them.

As he disappeared to the bathroom, she began to pick up the couch cushion that she had haphazardly thrown over her head in search for Wendy. That may have not been the best first impression you could have given, Alice, she thought, thinking in Cheshire's voice. She did that sometimes- had simple conversations all her own with her wonderland friends. Oh, pipe down Chess. I was looking for Wendy, she told the voice, and a chorus of other wonderland voices, the loudest of them the Hatter, rushed to tell Cheshire off for pointing out her less-than-normal attitude around her guest.

However, the voices hushed to a low murmur as the sound of the phone hit her ears. She smiled and hopped over to the counter where the loud piece of machinery sat. She picked it up off of the receiver as she jumped onto the counter-top, folding her legs underneath her and breathing a cheery hello into the phone. Unsurprisingly, the voice at the other end was Wendy.

"Alice? It's Wendy. I'm at the pub--sorry for not leaving you a note, I thought you wouldn't be home for a while--and I wanted to know if you were hungry. I can bring you something home, if you'll just let me know what you and the Cheshire want. Would have brought him, but you know how Ranvir is. Especially when he's been drinking." Wendy's voice said over the line, and Alice nodded her head when she mentioned Ranvir's less than accommodating nature when it came to the cat when he was drunk. On more than one occasion Alice had to lock Cheshire within the confines of her room while the dog sobered up, which was never fun. As if in agreement, Cheshire wagged his tail in a threateningly angry way, causing Alice to wonder for a moment if the cat was mad. After all, hadn't the real Chess said that he was mad because, unlike a dog, he growled when he was pleased and wagged his tail when angry?

"Oh yes! I would love something to eat. Cheshire will take any table scraps, but you can get him a tuna sandwich for today- he doesn't like being cooped up and I get the feeling he might have to be today. And for me- or is it I? Is it 'and for me' or 'and for I'? I don't know. Anyway, I think it's 'and for me' so we are going with that one. And for me, I'll have whatever you think would be best. You do so have the best tastes, Wendy. Oh! And I brought someone home with me! He was homeless, and he looked so very sad..." she trailed off, looking over to the bathroom where the shower had recently sprung to life.

"Anyway, maybe bring something for him as well? I can cook something if I have to, but I would rather not. Just not something too rich, though, because I get the feeling he hasn't had a rounded meal in quite some time and it would be a giant mistake to let him have something rich right now," she said as she bit her lip and jumped off the counter, jumping and ducking about the room in an attempt to entertain herself while she talked.

"I will see you in a bit Wendy!" she said after a few seconds of empty time, realizing she had nothing else to say. She pressed the end button quickly before placing it back in its rightful place and skipping to her room. Once safely inside she collapsed onto the bed, humming a tune from wonderland. It was one the hatter had taught her when she was only a child, the time she thought was a dream for most of her life. She hummed it slowly and carefully, as if trying to bring herself back on her singing alone. That didn't work, however, and she quickly turned around when she got board with reminiscing, as it only made her said.

"What should I do now, hm? Chess, what do you say?" she said as the raven cat walked through the open door and hopped onto the bed, curling up next to her and letting her run her hands over its fur.

"I say you figure something fun out to do, Alice. You always were the best at fun. But, I suppose, if you are feeling a bit stupider than normal I can provide some assistance. Climb a tree, fall asleep, tell a riddle, mock someone. That's what I would do for fun," she heard Cheshire's slow, monotonous, mocking voice from somewhere above her head, but she didn't bother to look up. She knew he wouldn't be there.

"Yes, but I cannot fathom doing any of that now. There aren't any sturdy climbing trees about and you best me in the game of riddles, Chess" she muttered, groaning and throwing her head into the pillow she was curled up with at the moment. She hated the feeling of being bored, even for a second. She was never board in Wonderland, and she hated to know that she was missing something else from there- the feeling of excitement. "Well, I do best you at those, m'dear, but you do have.... potential" the heard his voice say before she knew he was gone for good, probably off to have fun with some other soul.

"

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"Oh yes! I would love something to eat. Cheshire will take any table scraps, but you can get him a tuna sandwich for today- he doesn't like being cooped up and I get the feeling he might have to be today. And for me- or is it I? Is it 'and for me' or 'and for I'? I don't know. Anyway, I think it's 'and for me' so we are going with that one. And for me, I'll have whatever you think would be best. You do so have the best tastes, Wendy. Oh! And I brought someone home with me! He was homeless, and he looked so very sad..."

"Oh bugger," Wendy thought. She hoped it was a stray animal and not a stray person--it was not unlike Alice to use "someone" when speaking of a non-sentient being--but she wouldn't put the latter beyond her. Alice could handle herself, but still... best to get home quickly, then. Just in case it was a person and Alice needed assistance.

"Anyway, maybe bring something for him as well? I can cook something if I have to, but I would rather not. Just not something too rich, though, because I get the feeling he hasn't had a rounded meal in quite some time and it would be a giant mistake to let him have something rich right now,"

"Sure. I'll get your favorites and Chess' tuna, and something simple for our... guest. Oh, and Ranvir's been drinking again, so I'll let him sleep it off in my room so Cheshire can eat without being disturbed. I'll be right there."

Getting up quickly, thankful she was completely sober, Wendy found a waitress and ordered the food to go, adding that she was in a rush. The waitress smiled. She knew the girls, and was willing to do a little extra for them as they both tipped well, for both Wendy and Alice knew the consequences of food and drink that had been tampered with. Ranvir's head had fallen to the ground with a thud when Wendy got up, so when she came back he was almost asleep. "Ranvir!" she hissed. "Ranvir, we need to go home."

"Wendy. I almost caught the tiger. Give me a minute," he mumbled.

Rolling her eyes, she waited a few minutes until their food came out and thanked the waitress profusely for rushing the order. Paying for all their food, and tipping very well, Wendy walked and dragged Ranvir from the pub back to the apartment, her canine companion whining all the way. Back at the apartment, she juggled the sack of food, the leash, and her keys to open the door and walk inside the apartment, all as quietly as possible. Setting the food quickly down on the floor, she picked up her sword from the umbrella stand by the front door, and, holding the leash in one hand with an almost comatose Ranvir at the end, used the other to hide the sword behind her back. "Alice? I'm home with the food!" Wendy waited in front of the door to see who would come to her first, her knuckles white on the hilt of her weapon. Best case scenario, Alice had found a puppy Ranvir could spoil, or a new book Wendy would like... that Alice thought needed to eat. Slightly worse case, another cat, for Ranvir's sake--Wendy actually quite liked cats, usually. Worst case? A dangerous homeless person trying to find things to sell for drugs. Alice's heart was so big Wendy never knew if she thought of her own safety or not, so Wendy was prepared for anything.

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Alice, who was almost asleep by the time Wendy got back, jumped up when she heard her voice. She rolled off the side of the bed and rushed into the main area of the home. Wendy was standing tensely by the door, and she tilted her head to the side at her posture, one hand behind her back as if to hide something.

"Welcome back Wendy! Peter is taking a shower- or he was, when I went to my room and dozed off. I think he is still in the bathroom though- you called just as he was getting into the shower and things of that nature tend to take quite some time- for me at least, because water is awfully fun to think about, and you are already here!" she rambled, reaching for the bag of food and pulling out Cheshire's tuna sandwich, her potato soup, and the carton of what appeared to be hot soup for Peter as well. She put the plastic bag the items came in away before grabbing a spoon and popping open the carton of her soup.

"Peter is the guest, by the way," she mumbled after swallowing the first bite of soup, thinking back to try and remember if she had said that before. She shrugged when she couldn't remember and went back to her soup, taking small sips of it as she walked to the side of the counter in the kitchen that served as the serving area for Cheshire and set the tuna sandwich down on the floor. She placed her carton of soup back up on the counter before walking back to her room and rousing the sleeping cat in question from his sleep. The lazy cat hissed at her and she rolled her eyes at him.

"No need to be rude, Chess. You have food to eat and I could just as easily save it for later, but I won't, so come on," she scolded the cat before picking him up and depositing him on the ground next to the sandwich, which he immediately took notice of and began to chew on the side of it.

"Thank you for the food, Wendy. I'll take all of us out to eat tomorrow, okay? We can go to the docks and eat at that nice, animal-friendly restaurant you said you wanted to eat at last week! It'll be fun! You, me, Peter, Cheshire, Ranvir, and maybe even the white queen! That is, if she can be bothered to come visit, as I assume she is busy what with getting everything back in order after the downfall of the red queen, but maybe, just maybe she could and wouldn't that be fun!" she said before taking a long sip of her soup and smiling at the taste. Potato soup was by far the best food available in the 'normal' world, though almost everything in Wonderland surpassed it. Minus the cake and juice, of course, which tasted horrid but could be forgiven for their horrible qualities by the magic they possessed.

Cheshire seemed to finish his sandwich quicker than normal and was pawing at Alice's foot in an attempt to get her to pick him up. He did that a lot, after he finished a meal. His face would be messy and, being the clean animal he was, would get frustrated when he couldn't get all of it off and make Alice clean it off for him, which is exactly what she did. She grabbed a paper towel and cleaned the fickle cat of the tuna that was still stuck to his face before leaning over and cleaning up the remains of the sandwich on the floor.

"Anyway, Wendy, where do you think Peter could sleep for tonight? Our beds will be occupied, of course, but the couch is a bit lumpy and we do have that air mattress from when my room was being painted and you told me I couldn't sleep in there due to the fact that 'wet paint fumes can make you high'-- I think those were your words. Do you think he could sleep on that?" she asked as she finished off her soup with one last gulp before throwing it into the trash bin.

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"You, me, Peter, Cheshire, Ranvir, and maybe even the white queen! That is, if she can be bothered to come visit, as I assume she is busy what with getting everything back in order after the downfall of the red queen, but maybe, just maybe she could and wouldn't that be fun!"

Wendy was never sure if Alice genuinely expected her friends from Wonderland to enter the 'real' world, or if she had forgotten where she lived. Sometimes she was sure Alice thought Wonderland was just around the corner, through a wardrobe or using just the right antique key, or when the moonlight was just right. Wendy didn't begrudge her the notion, although it made her worry on occasion. Watching Cheshire consume his tuna sandwich, she was glad Ranvir wasn't awake to see it. He liked tuna, and when three sheets to the wind wouldn't be above trying to take it.

"Anyway, Wendy, where do you think Peter could sleep for tonight? Our beds will be occupied, of course, but the couch is a bit lumpy and we do have that air mattress from when my room was being painted and you told me I couldn't sleep in there due to the fact that 'wet paint fumes can make you high'-- I think those were your words. Do you think he could sleep on that?"

So it was a person, then. A boy, it sounded like, named Peter. Wendy was already predisposed towards suspicion with the name alone. Subtly swinging the sword down beside her leg, she answered, "We'll have to see," as she walked towards her room. Alice was probably not paying attention, but one never knew. Even if she was, hopefully Alice would see the sense of letting Wendy get a good look at their guest before allowing a strange man to sleep in a small apartment with two girls and fairly flimsy room locks. Closing the door of her bedroom with Ranvir inside--and dragging a dog of that size was not exactly relaxing--she waited at the bathroom door. A whispered conversation at sword point wouldn't go awry, and if it was a shady character she could throw him out on his ear. Thankfully Alice couldn't see the bathroom door from where she was in the kitchen, and Wendy heard the shower turn off. They could have a private little chat while Alice and Chess sat in the dining area, and if the boy made a scene, well, she kept the sword sharpened for a reason.

As Wendy waited, she decided it would be too risky to hold the sword at throat height, for dramatic effect. What if the boy came out and accidentally killed himself? Alice would be very upset, and it was much harder to hide a body in Brighton than other places elsewhere. Besides the fact that her conscience would destroy her if she hurt someone who was actually an innocent person who just needed shelter for the night. It didn't sound like Alice had found a child, but it wasn't worthwhile to take the chance. Leaning against the door post, she held the sword loosely at her side in a position where she could swiftly swing it up to put it at the 'guest's' throat as soon as he opened the door.

The swept hilt was gold filigree with a gem in the pommel, which was a particularly fine blue sapphire, big as a crown. The blade was engraved in fancy script with a line in a language Wendy had never learned, one of the fairy languages she'd been told. It had been a gift from... well, from Neverland, or had ended up there from elsewhere. She'd considered selling it a time or two, for education or when she'd wanted to move into a flat, but she could never bring herself to do it. It was her favorite blade, perfectly balanced, and she polished and sharpened it regularly. It made her sad, sometimes, but it brought many happy memories and one couldn't go wrong with a a good sword, even if she didn't get the chance to do anything but practice with it very often. Usually undesirables found a sword anachronistic and threatening enough, but she preferred to make things very, very clear. If a sword at the throat didn't do the job, there were other places to hold it that might work better with the male stranger. Wendy took the safety of those she loved with strict solemnity, and she'd been on the run before if it came to that.

She couldn't see the face, at this angle, but she could see that it wasn't a child as the bathroom door opened. Wendy swiftly raised the sword up to hold it just at the stranger's throat, close enough for him to feel the chill of the steel on his skin.

"I want to know who you are and if you have a criminal record," she said softly. "If you are on any kind of drugs or you plan on stealing anything, I suggest you leave immediately and give some excuse to Alice. If, however, you mean us harm, I feel I must inform you that I can and will use this sword without any hesitation, and sharp as it is it won't take much to hurt whatever I aim at." Melodramatic, sure, but it was best to get the honest bit out of the way. Neither of the two girls were harmless, Alice just usually looked more so. Wendy had no patience for hiding that sort of thing.

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#, as written by Ivisbo
Peter stayed longer then he should have in the shower. It was mostly due to the soft melodic effect the steam and pummeling heat had on his back, but also he was a bit embarrassed by the amount of dirt he saw wash down the drain. Peter would never have described himself as a clean lad in Neverland, but he still swam in the ocean daily and never had he seen so much filth come off one person.

The soaps were mostly flower scented, which Peter did not mind at all. He lathered his hair in the lavender smelling cleanser and took a bit of time in styling it into a mohawk as he had seen his fellow humans doing in this world over the years. Peter would never cut his hair- except for the occasional trim- but the mohawk sure was an interesting style. Tink had a thing for Peters hair, she would spend hours brushing it out and trimming the minuscule locks that grew past her idea of perfection. As an honor to her, he tried to keep it in the same style, but he was no where as talented as the little fairy.

As always, memories of Neverland sent a wave of depression cascading down on Peter. He stood for another five minutes under the spray, staring at the white tiles ahead of him with a gaunt and tired expression. Where the water hit felt numb and he was no longer enjoying the warmth of it. Quickly, he shut the faucet off, exited the shower, and grabbed a towel, drying off his body before he glanced down at the pile of neatly folded clothes on the counter top. Bright yellow t-shirt accosted his vision as well as a pair of dark brown cargo shorts and boxers. They out fit seemed fairly normal, apart from the haphazardly colored socks and felt fedora hat with a matching ribbon wrapped around its top. Forgoing the socks and hat, Peter pulled on the short, boxers, and shirt, which fit him well enough in the length, though a little large for his thin frame.

Once again, Peter found himself staring into the mirror. His skin was still pale, though now flushed with the heat from the shower. He had to admit he had a little more glow in his features now that he was clean and did not smell of sweat. He still hated the light stumble on his chin, but there was not much he could do for that (unless he asked Alice for help, which Peter Pan would never do...he still had some semblance of an ego!). The bright orange of his hair was dampened by the water that dripped down his face. He shoved the wet locks backwards, then grabbed his towel and hastily scrubbed his hair into a wild mane.

Figuring he might as well figure out what the hell had lead him to here and that he had hid in the bathroom long enough, Peter turned and opened the door slowly as he continued to work the dampness out of hair with the towel.

Peter had not felt the coldness of steal in a very, very long time. As the tip of the intricately carved (and familiar) sword touched his jugular, a beat of fierce longing flew through him. In that moment it was as if all of Neverland came rushing back to him, singing to him, calling to him. His eyes widened, his heart practically burst from his chest, and he was sure he made some sort of sound int he back of his throat.

"I want to know who you are and if you have a criminal record...If you are on any kind of drugs or you plan on stealing anything, I suggest you leave immediately and give some excuse to Alice. If, however, you mean us harm, I feel I must inform you that I can and will use this sword without any hesitation, and sharp as it is it won't take much to hurt whatever I aim at."

He had not fully focused his eyes on the wielder of the sword until she spoke, still staring down at the perfectly balanced blade pointed at him. When he was King, a sword of this stature would have been at his disposal with a click of his fingers. In fact...the carvings and markings along the handle looked like...

Peters eyes carried down the blade, to the handle, up the nimble but strong arm that held it, and to the face before him.

Wendy.

The towel fell from his grip as he stared at the girl before him, the girl that had left him for this world of age and time. He blinked, blinked again, stared....wishing and praying for this moment to be true and not some trick. No, there was no way that after all this time he had found her among all the millions that resided on this planet.

Peter was not that lucky.

But here she was, staring at him with that same defiant look in her eyes, prattling out accusations and threats. But this was Wendy. His Wendy, his partner, the only one that he had ever thought back on when he was in Neverland. He wanted to rush forward as he would have when he was younger and pull her into his arms, spin her in the air and fly up into the treetops with the stars of Neverland all around them....

Peters green eyes narrowed for a moment as the rested on her blue ones. She did not recognize him; and how could she? Not only was he older, grown up...taller, thinner, stumblyer- but she had also not seen him in years. She could hate him for all he knew.

"W-Wendy?" He finally managed to work out in a soft, very un-Peter like voice. It was drenched with worry, sadness, confusion, and dread. If she hated him or had forgotten about him, he was done for right then and there.

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Years later, Wendy would still feel horribly embarrassed at when she did next. She dropped the sword, swore and couldn't make herself drop down to pick it up again as she stared into eyes that were both familiar and a stranger to her. Cold chills wend down her spine and her knees weakened a little.

"Peter?" She whispered. "But..." Wendy hiccuped a half-choked sob and put her hand over her mouth, trying her best not to let her eyes fill with tears. "Peter." He had always been the boy to her, something she'd found empathy with in Doyle's detective tales and a woman called Irene. The boy. The one who had taught her so much. Who had shown her things she'd never dreamed of. The kind of companion she never thought she'd have again. The one she'd... had to leave. He had been everything to her for such a short time, and now...

Firming her spine--and her knees--and putting her hand at her side again, Wendy took a good look at her 'old friend.' It was jarring to see him older. He was even taller than her, now, where he'd been about the same height before. Muscles had filled into his lean frame, nothing like someone who went to the gym regularly, more like someone who was used to using his body and had made it strong. Even more peculiar was the shadow of a beard she saw on his jawline, bright coppery and blonde stubble. She had to physically and mentally stop herself from reaching up to feel the evidence that Peter was a boy no longer.

Not only that, but the joy she'd always seen in his eyes was gone. The joy that had set Peter apart, had lifted him, had made him a leader and a dread foe to those who would threaten his home. Where was the crow she could always sense was just a moment away from his throat, the combative spirit that defied even death itself? Wendy thought that might be more sad than this meeting itself. Who was Peter without that joy? Forget the age--despite Peter's insistence on never maturing, Wendy had always known he had the courage for it, and the makings of a man that could make a real mark on whatever world he happened to be in. But Peter without that spark of life? That wasn't right.

It wasn't right, too, that Peter had aged without her. Why hadn't he found her? Why hadn't he just... the anger that she'd felt so many years ago came roaring back to fill her with fire, chasing away the chill and sorrow. She knew she didn't have the strength to meet him like she'd always dreamed. That was gone, and she was older now, older than he, and yet it was still hard to find the right words to say. What could she say? I missed you? Truth, but too simple and too pale a phrase for what she'd felt. Good to see you? An understatement, and the truth was much more complicated. Before she could craft the perfect phrase, as if her life were a fairy story (when nothing could be further from the truth, several of those aspects were missing) she blurted out,

"It's me, Peter. It's Wendy Darling. And you should use the couch tonight, or however long you need it," she babbled on, unable to stop herself. "And I've got blankets and a pillow in the closet and there's food on the table. You should eat, you're too skinny. It's from the pub, and you probably could use some water, I can get you a glass from the cupboard." She mentally slapped herself in the forehead. How impressive, Wendy. You meet the boy again and you start mothering him, like the older sister he'd never had and what you never actually wanted to be. So very mysterious and mature, Wendy, so very not like what you always dreamed of saying to him when you met him again. Where was the anger, the long speeches she crafted late at night when she missed her dearest friend like an ache that never went away? That was life, she figured, as she attempted to suppress a blush but felt it on the back of her neck anyway. Figures that the one grudge she had a right to hold more than anyone completely evaporated when confronted with a freckled face she'd once been so fond of, she thought, conveniently ignoring the fact that he still occasionally showed up in her dreams.

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#, as written by Ivisbo
"Peter? But...", Her voice was still as clear as he remembered it, rich and full and beautiful- like the birds that hunted in the treetops of the forests around the Fairy Village. He hadn't heard his name spoken like that, "Peter.", in a very long time. It sent a burst of joy through him, though the joy was short lived. He was still here and though Wendy was as well....he knew that things would be different now.

"It's me, Peter. It's Wendy Darling. And you should use the couch tonight, or however long you need it," Peter half expected her to kick him out, scream at him, something other then invite him to stay the night. It could be because Alice (where had that crazy girl gone too?) wanted him to stay, but Peter knew Wendy better then that. She would never allow something to take place under her roof unless she was 100% certain of it.

Peter simply watched her as she continued to babble, saying something about blankets and food and pubs. Truly, he was far more interested in examining her adult face, a face he recognized but didn't at the same time. Her hair was the same color, her face had the same expressions....she was just different. One of the many things Peter hated about growing up was that you changed- he could just never put his finger on what exactly changed. He supposed it could be the eyes, as he looked into Wendy's he recognized a tiredness that had not been there before. She was more....grounded, as if even pixie dust couldn't lift her anymore.

"Ah dornt understan'....Wendy....how?" He managed to say, ignoring her prattling words, confusion slithering through his words as he tried to convey his utter disbelief. He had no clue how long it had been for her, Neverland always worked a bit different when it came to time. His memories of Wendy as the mother of the Lost Boys were clear as day, but it had been ages ago. Peter never paid attention to the pacing of time, but he was sure Wendy had not been to Neverland in many, many years. Though looking at her....

Peter scrubbed his freckled hands over his face, ran them up through his wet hair, and pulled it back in frustration, "How ar' ya 'ere? How am I 'ere?", he cried out, turning his wild eyes to her, "Wendy, its got tae mean somethin', mebbe yer supposed tae help me..."

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"How?" Wendy finally had the strength to pick up the sword again and held it loosely at her side--old habits died hard. "But Peter, you know how. We left Neverland the same way we came, remember? That was ten years ago, this world's time. And..." This was the difficult part. She'd already made a mess of these introductions, no need to make her sound any more like the girl she'd been, so she gave it a moment to martial her thoughts.

"How you're here is a more difficult question, Peter, because I really don't know. If you remember, we came through a portal to Neverland, and returned the same way." Without you, unspoken, because that was a conversation she didn't know if she'd ever be able to have again. It was enough to have to go through it once. Watching him, it was odd to see the same gestures, like pulling his hair when he was working through a particularly difficult problem. Sometimes she could have sworn he must have pulled half his hair out and regrown it, over and over again, especially when dealing with something he found very troubling.

"Helping you? Peter..." She took a deep breath and clenched her hand on the hilt of her sword again, letting the breath out slowly. "Peter, you want to go back to Neverland, don't you." It wasn't even a question. Peter had belonged to Neverland for so long he didn't know how to be anywhere else, and of course today would not have made any difference. Age or no age, Peter was still Peter. Clearing her throat, she looked at the ceiling, blinking her eyes quickly. More than anything Wendy wished Ranvir was awake to save her from the turmoil of this conversation, but what was done was done.

Time to be a big girl, Wendy. You've done it before, you've done it every day, and you can do it again. Just one more deep breath, relax your hands, and look him straight in the eyes.

Calmer now, if only on the surface, Wendy's face settled into solemn lines as she looked at Peter's face. "The way we came back, Peter, it came with us when we left. And I'm afraid that as soon as we arrived the spell burned itself to ash. We always figured that it was Neverland protecting itself from adults, or that you had closed it from the other end, because if it hadn't... well, never mind about that. As for getting back there without it, your guess is as good as mine."

Be the adult, Wendy. You can do it. Just stiffen your spine and get it out. You are a strong, independent woman and you have survived worse. And my inner voice is melodramatic today, look at that.

"However, Alice and I both have connections in the city and elsewhere, as well as a wealth of books and bookstores to choose from. If you truly want to go back, I'm sure she and I can at least make a very good attempt at finding a way. Alice, especially, is in tune with that sort of traveling, and if we ask she'll be more than happy to help you get home." She was proud that her voice didn't falter on the last word. One must take one's victories where one can.

"In the meantime, Peter, you can stay on the couch. We'll need to find you some better clothes if we'll be wandering about town, so a bit of shopping will also be in order. As well as getting you some kind of temporary ID, just in case." Because when in doubt, Wendy girl, stay with the practicalities and muddle your way through.

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Character Portrait: Wendy Moira Angela Darling Character Portrait: Alice Kingsley Character Portrait: Peter Pan
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Alice, who had been sitting quietly while petting Cheshire on the head and reading from a book of short stories that included lots of pictures, looked up at the kitchen table and frowned. Peter's soup was still sitting there, untouched. Steam was coming off of the bowl in smaller amounts as well. Alice's eyebrows knotted together and she set the book down before walking over to the bowl and picking it up between her two hands with care.

"I'm sorry, little soup bowl, that you were neglected so. Let's go find who you belong to so you can fulfill your duty of being eaten!" she smiled and held the bowl in the air on the last part, spilling a bit over the edges. She hissed lightly as the droplets fell on her skin, but otherwise remained unfazed as she pulled a spoon from the proper drawer and placed it into a soup before walking down the hall where the shower was located. Wendy and Peter seemed to be having an adamant conversation, but she only caught the tail end of it, where Wendy said Alice was in tune with 'that type of traveling' and that Peter could stay, but they would have to go to the store to purchase clothing for Peter.

"What type of traveling am I in tune with, Wendy?" she asked as she looked expectantly towards her flatmate. She looked down at her hands suddenly as a warm sensation flitted over her fingers. "Oh! I almost forgot! How strange of me. Peter- your soup was cooling and even though this conversation seems important and all, but you need to eat," she said quickly before holding the warm soup bowl out for him. She turned back to Wendy quickly, still expecting an answer to her question, before she noticed the sword in her hands.

"Wendy! How very rude of you! We do not point swords at guests! It was you who made that rule you know!" she said, poking Wendy in the side and giggling. "Yes, I remember that well. You said, and I'm sure I remember this correctly because you told me that I should not be allowed to forget it-- anyway, you said that 'Pointing pointy instruments at people invited into our home scares people and I shan't scare people, as we need to make sure no police need to come to our home and take all of our Wonderland-- and Neverland, respectively-- artifacts away! You can't break your own rule!" she scolded as she used her now-free hands to grab the sword from her and twirl it around in her hands before placing onto the floor, probably scratching it in the possess.

"Oh! And Peter, you still need the grand tour! After you finish your horribly important super top-secret conversation or whatever this is," she stepped back and waved the sword at the pair quickly while flashing a crazy-looking grin, "I'll show you around! But I honestly don't know what you two would have to talk about, though, unless, of course, one of you wanted to tell me anything, because I hate to be out of the loop. You know that, Wendy," she giggled before rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet and swinging the sword carefully at her side.

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Character Portrait: Wendy Moira Angela Darling Character Portrait: Alice Kingsley Character Portrait: Peter Pan
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#, as written by Ivisbo
Peter had search for that portal many times. The night he landed in the park in London, he had dug and dug and dug until he bare hands were ripped to shreds and still he had found no portal. He searched the park tirelessly, refusing to give up hope that maybe the portal had moved, that Neverland would snatch him from this cold world, or he was simply having a nightmare. But when daybreak came and the shone reflected off the icy looking grey monstrosities that covered the horizon line of the city a cold dread had seeped into his bones. Knowing that Alice was equally as confused as him made it easier...though he had been confused for two years and her only moments. But, having her here....it reminded him of a bit of home, even if she was originally from this strange world of wintertime and grey.

"Helping you? Peter...Peter, you want to go back to Neverland, don't you." Peter had not heard Neverland said out loud in a very long time. Not since he was there intact...in all of two years he had not heard the name of his home and it hurt. It was as if Wendy had taken her sword- which he now recognized as he sword from his beautiful island- and shoved it directly into his heart.

"Yes He whispered out, though she had not worded it as a question. Neverland was never a question to Peter, it was a statement true and true. She would return him their, he was sure of it. Wendy was never one to fail when she put her heart into something...all Peter had to hope for was a bit of heart.

A small smile flickered across his face at the thought; maybe Wendy was his savior after all. She would return him-

"...we arrived the spell burned itself to ash. We always figured that it was Neverland protecting itself from adults, or that you had closed it from the other end, because if it hadn't... well, never mind about that. As for getting back there without it, your guess is as good as mine."

Peters face dropped in an instant, his expression haggard, lines drew themselves across his forehead- he aged in a millisecond, the life sapping out of him as Wendy continued to deny the help he had expected to receive. Of course she would not want to- Peter had sent her home and stayed behind. He had never visited her with her knowing- only sent his shadow to listen in on her stories. For her, it most have seemed like he had forgotten her. Why would she return him to his home when she had fought so tirelessly for him to come here?

"Sorry I-" He began to mumble, apologize for something he truly had no idea how to apologize for to fill the silence, when Wendy continued to speak and cut him off.

[/b]"-However, Alice and I both have connections in the city and elsewhere, as well as a wealth of books and bookstores to choose from. If you truly want to go back, I'm sure she and I can at least make a very good attempt at finding a way. Alice, especially, is in tune with that sort of traveling, and if we ask she'll be more than happy to help you get home."[/b]

Peter looked up at Wendy with hopeful eyes just as Alice skipped into the area, interrupting their conversation, "What type of traveling am I in tune with, Wendy?" He turned his attention from Wendy to Alice, tilting his head slightly as he handed him over a bowl and a long explanation as to why he had to eat it. He of course was happy to rid them of the cooling soup- his last sightly warm meal had been a few days ago in London.

Peter flashed Alice one of his toothy grins after a spoon full of the soup warmed his stomach, deciding in that instant that he really liked the girl, "Thenk ye Alice, its actually perfectly warm, nae need tae worry!"

Of course, she had already moved her attention on to Wendy, rambling on about swords. Peter simply stood and watched as he swallowed down massive spoonfuls of the beautifully tasting soup, no intention of stepping in to the weird rituals of the two girls. Even though he had been here for a few years and met his fair amount of girls (they always hung on his arms and liked to touch his hair) he still had no hopes of understanding them. At the mention of Neverland, Peters eyes flicked up to Wendy. Had she spoken about him to her room mate, about Neverland? Maybe she told stories of them still, hopefully she still did...

"Oh! And Peter, you still need the grand tour! After you finish your horribly important super top-secret conversation or whatever this is...I'll show you around! But I honestly don't know what you two would have to talk about, though, unless, of course, one of you wanted to tell me anything, because I hate to be out of the loop. You know that, Wendy," Peter laughed at her wild antics, reminiscent of his own a long time ago. He had parallel moment where he imagined himself in Alice's position, waving around a sword and calling out orders....he really did like this girl.

"Before th' toor Alice, Ah got tae ask ye a favur about travelin'. Do ye have onie idea how tae travel a very very long distance...further 'en most ever go? See, I need tae get home an' Ah have nae idea how tae go abit doin' it. Wendy says ye might know how, cause yoo've dain it afair?" He have her a hopeful expression, brows raised in question, "Maybe you two coods come wi' me in th' end! Its much mair wonderful then this warld an' th' best part is ye ne'er hae tae graw up! Tell 'er Wendy, Neverland is beautiful ain't it?"

Peter turned to Wendy, smiling at her as he once had. Talking about Neverland now, it brought out the excitement he felt inside at the idea of returning home. He was sure Alice would fit in perfectly amongst the Lost Boys- she seemed to be one herself. And Wendy....well everyone knew that she belonged their anyway.

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Character Portrait: Wendy Moira Angela Darling Character Portrait: Alice Kingsley Character Portrait: Peter Pan
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"... as we need to make sure no police need to come to our home and take all of our Wonderland-- and Neverland, respectively-- artifacts away! You can't break your own rule!"

Wendy glared at Alice. "Yes, we have those rules, but exceptions are understandably made when you bring strangers off the street into our flat. Not that you're strange, Peter, but it's the principle of the thing. Where did you put the list of rules I made you? I need to add 'No inviting strangers off the street, especially men, to the flat.'"

Wendy looked at Alice expectantly but had no idea if Alice even knew where her list was. Of course Wendy had a back up copy posted on the inside of a kitchen cupboard, but Alice was supposed to keep her own copy so she knew not to do things like use all of the tea without getting more because she just had to have a tea party with all the animals and random people in the neighborhood! Wasn't right when Wendy got home and couldn't have a nice cup of tea to wind down, that was practically illegal. Or should be, anyway.

Reaching out her hand, she gestured to Alice to give her the sword. "And I'll thank you not to abuse my poor sword, Alice," she said, in a tone both serious and teasing. "It doesn't deserve that, and I can put it away now. Peter might be many things, but a threat to us he isn't. Especially," she said with a chuckle, "he isn't a threat to your virtue, which is one of the reasons you shouldn't invite strange men up here." It was true that Alice had a good sense of people, and that she would most likely never invite someone into the flat that would hurt them, but Wendy was a worrier and besides, Alice wasn't always in her head. Many times Alice left it, in one way or another, for better climates, and who knew who might take advantage of that?


"See, I need tae get home an' Ah have nae idea how tae go abit doin' it. Wendy says ye might know how, cause yoo've dain it afair?... Maybe you two coods come wi' me in th' end! Its much mair wonderful then this warld an' th' best part is ye ne'er hae tae graw up! Tell 'er Wendy, Neverland is beautiful ain't it?"


Wendy, getting her sword back from Alice, paused. "Yes, Neverland is beautiful. It's always an adventure because the island has a mind of its own. And Alice, I was telling Peter that you're very good at looking for ways to get to other places, so perhaps you know of or have heard of a way to get to Neverland?"

Now to broach the more difficult part of that question. Sheathing her sword--the sheath was in the hall closet for some reason, very bad form--she thought of the best way to answer Peter truthfully, but not too truthfully. With a sigh, she decided to go the coward's route for the moment and focus on what was important. "We'll talk about that sort of thing when we find a way to get there, Peter, let's not get ahead of ourselves. It's not impossible that we'll find a way, but it won't be easy, and who knows how it will work." She laughed a little, to herself, at Peter's statement that you didn't have to grow up in Neverland. Did Peter not realize that he had grown up already?

Sobering, she suddenly knew that she had to at least see Neverland with Peter, get him settled there, to make sure than in going back as an adult he didn't become something he wasn't prepared for. Adults in Neverland were, after all, the enemy, and there was no crueler irony than Pan going back only to become a sort of horrible pantomime of Hook. She knew Peter had no idea that being trapped with children on an island that actively worked against you could drive one mad, and that many of the pirates including Hook had succumbed to that weakness. It was a very specific hell, and one she would sentence no one to, most of all the boy who had found such joy there in childhood.

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Character Portrait: Wendy Moira Angela Darling Character Portrait: Alice Kingsley Character Portrait: Peter Pan
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"Yes, we have those rules, but exceptions are understandably made when you bring strangers off the street into our flat. Not that you're strange, Peter, but it's the principle of the thing. Where did you put the list of rules I made you? I need to add 'No inviting strangers off the street, especially men, to the flat.'" Alice listened as Wendy asked her of her list. Of course she knew where it was. It was hung up on the wall, but a week ago it had asked to be moved because it was tired of being stuck to a wall. She had put it under her pillow... or was it her plant? One or the other.

"Of course I know where it is! Under my pillow, or... my plant... or my pebbles... or the prism, which hasn't been shedding rainbows in days! I think I need to change it's positioning. Oh! Where was I? The paper... under something that starts with P, of course!" Alice said quickly as she thought over where she had placed it.

"And I'll thank you not to abuse my poor sword, Alice, It doesn't deserve that, and I can put it away now. Peter might be many things, but a threat to us he isn't. Especially, he isn't a threat to your virtue, which is one of the reasons you shouldn't invite strange men up here," Wendy said and Alice begrudgingly handed over the shiny sword, and pouted.

"You sound like the white queen- she was always trying to be my mother too. But, of course, she was more fun that my mother. Which, you are too," Alice grumbled before smiling quickly and turning back to Peter, who seemed to be talking very happily.

"Before th' toor Alice, Ah got tae ask ye a favur about travelin'. Do ye have onie idea how tae travel a very very long distance...further 'en most ever go? See, I need tae get home an' Ah have nae idea how tae go abit doin' it. Wendy says ye might know how, cause yoo've dain it afair? Maybe you two coods come wi' me in th' end! Its much mair wonderful then this warld an' th' best part is ye ne'er hae tae graw up! Tell 'er Wendy, Neverland is beautiful ain't it?" Peter said before turning to Wendy. Alice was going to say she did not want to cheat on Wonderland and go to Neverland, and also that she didn't know of any way to get to Neverland, nor did she have any clue how to get back to Wonderland (though she had tried, many times), when Wendy answered the question while putting the sword away.

Yes, Neverland is beautiful. It's always an adventure because the island has a mind of its own. And Alice, I was telling Peter that you're very good at looking for ways to get to other places, so perhaps you know of or have heard of a way to get to Neverland?" Alice thought over how to respond to both of their statements, but she knew she couldn't simply just tell Peter she had no idea how to get him back home. That would be blunt, and in polite conversation bluntness was normally not appreciated.

"I'm sure Neverland is positively stunning, but I much prefer places where no one has a mind- not even the humans. Or the hares, of course, becuase there are only so many humans and really it's mostly sentient animals that make up where I want to be- which is Wonderland, of course! But... sadly, Peter, I have no clue how to get you home yet, but I will try. I understand your pain. I don't even know how to get myself home. I don't exactly belong here either. I used to, but I miss my true home dearly," she said quietly before turning and walking into her room as Wendy began to talk.

As her room was right next to the bathroom, she could clearly hear what Wendy was saying as Alice looked about the room for her list. It was not under her pillow, nor was it under her plant (which was looking oh so horribly poor as of late she felt sorry for it), but it was under her pebbles. Well, not under her pebbles, but the cake-serving tray they were situated on on top of her dresser, as if they were going to turn into cakes at any moment. Maybe they would, one day. Wendy was just finishing what she was saying when Alice got back out (it hadn't taken her all that horribly long to find the list, after all, as it was only one pillow and one plant and the pebbles were right next to that, and she had rushed the whole way). She handed over the list before leaning back against the door-frame and looking up at the ceiling. Peter's Neverland was supposed to be up there, apparently. Wendy had told her so.

"Oh! Wendy, I was just thinking-- pondering? Whatever the word.. or are those the same? I never can remember-- about Neverland. But, then I realized I only know of your adventures there. Would it be alright if Peter told us some of his? And then I can tell Peter of Wonderland, and you can tell a story too! Oh, it's been a long time since we've had a story-telling and I would just love to commemorate this occasion with one! I mean, it's not every day you catch up with someone from your childhood, and even less often that it's someone from another world. I mean, if the hatter just showed up, right out of the blue, I would surely love to have a tea party and a story-telling!" Alice exclaimed before she remembered the urgency of the situation. "Oh, but maybe not. Maybe after we get Peter back to Neverland-- then a story telling?"

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Character Portrait: Wendy Moira Angela Darling Character Portrait: Alice Kingsley Character Portrait: Peter Pan
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#, as written by Ivisbo
"Yes, Neverland is beautiful. It's always an adventure because the island has a mind of its own. And Alice, I was telling Peter that you're very good at looking for ways to get to other places, so perhaps you know of or have heard of a way to get to Neverland? We'll talk about that sort of thing when we find a way to get there, Peter, let's not get ahead of ourselves. It's not impossible that we'll find a way, but it won't be easy, and who knows how it will work." Peter nodded along with her compliments of Neverland- it truly felt amazing to have someone to share his memories of the place with. Not that it wasn't still waiting for him...all he had to do was close his eyes and he could see the beautiful waters and oceans and forests....but thats all he could do, see. He could not longer remember the smell or the scent; that had all been washed away my the muck of the cities. Thats why he was so insistent on going now. He couldn't forget the most important things about the most important thing in his life. Peter dreaded the day when he could no longer remember the hue of the ocean correctly...

"I'm sure Neverland is positively stunning, but I much prefer places where no one has a mind- not even the humans. Or the hares, of course, becuase there are only so many humans and really it's mostly sentient animals that make up where I want to be- which is Wonderland, of course! But... sadly, Peter, I have no clue how to get you home yet, but I will try. I understand your pain. I don't even know how to get myself home. I don't exactly belong here either. I used to, but I miss my true home dearly,"

Peter watched Alice leave with a puzzled look on his face, "She's a strange a one isnae she?" He said to Wendy, fully aware that Alice could hear him, "I kin'ay like it- she reminds me a bit ay Tink-" Peter was cut off as Alice walked back into the hall and started yelling to Wendy. Peter down the rest of his soup as she spoke, making sure to get every last drop before he lowered the bowl and raised a brow at the little blonde haired girl.

"Ah think we shoods tell some stories now, I woods love tae hear abit about Wonderland. An' ay coorse, I have th' best ay stories tae tell about Neverland....thoogh I love Wendy's most of all. Ye remember yer stories, right Wendy? Th' great ones abit me? Ah guess tha' was a lang time ago fur ye now..."

He hated that he now felt the need to lower himself when he spoke. Peter recognized it- his deflated ego and submissive behavior....the King of Neverland would have never acted like this. This was cod-fish living, not kingly at all....he just didn't have it in him anymore. It was like growing taller forced all his great-ness out of his bones, ripped his ego from his heart, and left him weak and polite like a limp balloon. He had learned early on that you had to be nice to get anything out of people here; he couldn't act like a king when he was begging for scraps on the side of the road. But even here with Wendy, Peter couldn't get himself to go back to how he should be...

At this point, he didn't want to Lost Boys, Tink, or Neverland seeing him. Not until he was back to himself. And maybe a bit shorter.

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Character Portrait: Wendy Moira Angela Darling Character Portrait: Alice Kingsley Character Portrait: Peter Pan
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Wendy bit her lip. She really shouldn't do this. As much as she hated to see Peter this oddly humble and, well, nice, it would be mean of her not to take action. Not that Peter had been mean, exactly, but thoughtless he was to the end, and selfish, too, if she was to be brutally honest with herself, but what child wasn't?

"Let's go over to the table," Wendy said. "I'm going to need some tea for this conversation, and maybe some nibbles from the cabinet. I think we have some crisps, and I'm sure you're still hungry, Peter, you could always eat enough for seven boys and I'm sure getting taller has only made your stomach bigger." Walking briskly over to the table, Wendy started pulling odds and ends out of the cabinets for them to snack on, and put a fresh kettle on to boil.

As her friends, old and new, sat in front of her, Wendy went to her room and pulled several loosely-bound manuscripts off of a few of her shelves. Going back to the table, and watching in approval as Peter started to explore and taste the things that she'd laid out, Wendy set the books down. Picking one up to show the both of them the cover, she said, "This, Peter, is the story of a very ordinary girl and her brothers in Neverland. This other one," she said, putting that one down and picking up a much thicker volume, "is the chronicles of the Neverland King, of his adventures and his merry band. Since you want the stories about you, no surprise there, Peter," she said, laughing, "We'll read from this one. I've read it to a lot of children, you know, in the bookstore. It would have been published for the world to see, but I've been waiting for the right place to do that. So, why don't I start with one of your favorites? I'll tell one, and then I'll let Alice tell one, her stories are excellent and I've been meaning to get more of them down on paper, if she doesn't mind."

The kettle had started to whistle, so Wendy poured herself a cup as well as one each for Alice and Peter, in case they wanted something warm while they told stories. Sitting back down with her own cup, she opened the book and started,

"This is the first tale of the King of Neverland. His favorite, too, or so I've been told. The King of Neverland, it is said, wears no crown for everyday, but there was a time when he found a crown and made it his own, to flaunt in front of the Lost Boys and especially the pirates, when the King was feeling particularly fractious.

It all began when the King, known to his friends as Peter Pan, was exploring Neverland for what must have been the millionth time. Not that he'd counted, Neverland was a place without time and mostly, to be quite truthful, without counting, as education wasn't a priority of those who lived in Neverland. Neverland changed constantly, so Peter was forever poking into its nooks and crannies, sometimes with much less welcome than not. But that is another story.

This particular day, Peter had poked himself into a very dark corner of a cave he had never explored before, and without any of the Lost Boys, because most of them were afraid of the dark. Peter would never admit to be afraid of anything, so when they'd refused to go in with them, he'd called them cowards and gone in anyway, with only the light of his fairy, Tinkerbell, to accompany him. Down and down and down they went, getting themselves quite lost in the wet darkness of the cave. So lost that Peter thought he would never get out again, and that Tink would have to fly home and find one of the boys to come and get him, assuming even she could find her way out. She was just as lost as he was, so that option was out, and just when Peter was resigning himself to be the King of Caves, he saw a glitter that wasn't Tinkerbell, just around a corner...

... and so it was that Peter Pan crowned himself as King of Neverland, applauded by the fairies and with a cape as luxurious as any that graced the kings of old. Standing on his throne, which had been placed in the tree house at his behest and too his glee, he crowed his victory, and the Lost Boys cheered and threw their caps in the air. "Hooray for King Peter!" They cried, and as Peter waved grandly to them with his scepter they starting bowing, rather melodramatically, puffing Peter up so big that Tinkerbell considered pinching him just to let some of the air out so he could fit through doors again. For many moons Peter accepted tribute and stayed largely on his throne, lording it over Neverland, and crowing all the day long, until once again the Pirates started mischief... but that is another story. The End."


Closing the book, Wendy looked at Peter, hoping the story had cheered him up. The veracity of the story, especially some parts, she'd always doubted as Peter tended to inflate his adventures to make himself look more impressive, but this was not the time. Peter needed some ego back and his favorite story had always done the trick before. Would it again?

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Alice followed Wendy happily as they made their way over to the table, all the while skipping. Alice couldn't even remember the last time they had a story-time. Last week? The week before? Alice never could be sure. Time was awful like that to her, and she often forgot things she didn't mean to. Alice watched as Wendy pulled two of her manuscripts from their place and set them down. Wendy pointed to one (the bigger one, to be sure, but Alice figured that was only because it chronicled a whole life and the other only told of a few adventures). It wasn't even thirty seconds before the kettle began to whistle, causing Alice to clap her hands delightfully and sing the first verse of 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Bat' as Wendy poured the cups and Alice took her's quickly, not wanting to miss a second of the story. Wendy did have an amazing way with words, after all.

Alice's pale fingers curled around the cup as the story started, and her legs quickly followed until her chin was resting on her knees and the cup was burning her legs-- not that she minded, of course, as the cup couldn't help its temperature. Alice looked over to Peter as Wendy declared him the 'King of Neverland'. Wendy had called him this before, but it wasn't like she had had the opportunity to look at the protagonist of the story in the flesh before. Alice imagined a hand-made crown sitting on his red locks of hair and a smile permanently set on his face. She imagined him smaller and younger-looking, and not so bogged down by life. Of course, all she succeeded in doing was imagining a young Hatter with a crown made of teapots on his head. That in turn caused her to giggle uncontrollably. She knew that was in no way proper story-time manners, but she couldn't help it. It was amazingly funny.

As Wendy told about Peter's trek into the cave, all alone, Alice clutched the cup tighter. How horribly dark and scary! However, at the mention of a fairy Alice immediately perked up. She would have to ask Peter about that later. Fairies were a delightfully fun topic! Soon enough, however, the story came to an end, and Alice smiled. It was her turn, after all.

"Oh, that was a wonderful story! I shall have to hear more of them sometime!" she said brightly as she picked up her tea cup and stood up. Some of the tea sloshed around, almost spilling over, but thankfully none did. "My turn my turn!" she exclaimed as she thought over what story to tell.

"I suppose I should start on my first adventure to Wonderland. My second one was so much more bloody and scary that I've yet to get over it myself yet, so I shan't burden you with that. Yet. Anyway, where to start... right! My sister. I hated my sister. Well... I didn't hate her. I don't hate her. She is a wonderful person. I hated the bi-weekly trips to the bank of the river. She never read any books with pictures! Or even a conversation- how can you have a book without conversation! I shall never know. She said she enjoyed them. Anywho, that is neither here nor there and unimportant. My adventure really started with the White Rabbit. Well, he is the white rabbit. At the time, I didn't know that was his name. I just thought it was horribly strange for a rabbit in a waistcoat to be rushing past muttering 'I'm late! I'm late!'. So, I followed him. There was this horribly large rabbit hole he went to-- at first I really didn't want to go, because I was wearing a dress I didn't want to get dirty, but as they say, curiosity killed the cat. So, I went down.

It went such an awful long way! It went probably all the way down to the center of the earth- and you could never believe how inconsiderate whoever built that rabbit hole was! All the jars of marmalade were empty. Though, I wasn't thinking about that at the time. I was showing off. Though, now that I think about it, that was a silly thing to do. No one was there to see me! My fall had to come to an end eventually, though. I fell fairly softly for such a long fall. I was so horribly scared though. None of the doors opened, even though I found a key. Well, one did, but it was horribly small. I couldn't even fit my shoulder in! Thankfully, I found some shrinking juice and got in- eventually. There was some crying involved and some growing cake, but that is unimportant and frankly not my finest time.

After I finally got into Wonderland- which was kind of a hassle, as I mentioned- I met so many people! There was the duchess, who made me take care of her pig-baby-- that is, a baby that turned into a pig-- and the Cheshire cat. You've seen the replacement one, of course, and even though that Chess is positively stunning, he is still a normal cat. The real Cheshire is so much more fun. He can disappear and riddle with the best of them. His words are sometimes confusing though. Takes a minute to think about and then by that time he is bored of you and gone! There is also the caterpillar, but... I shall not talk of him right now. I'm still sad. He turned into a butterfly and flew away!

Oh, and also the Hatter and the hare. The dormouse was there too, of course, but the first time she was a sleepy little mouse. I hardly noticed her, to be honest. The hare likes to throw things- he always has. Be it a cup or a watch-- which his watch can apparently be fixed with creamy peanut butter-- he will throw it at you. You really have to get into a pattern to deal with it. Then there is the Hatter... well, the hatter is indescribable. The first time I met him he seemed very happy and funny. For a child, he was ridiculously wonderful. When I met him the second time... well, that is for a different day.

I met others too, of course. The Mock Turtle, who wept so much you'd think he'd run dry, and then the Red Queen and The Queen of Hearts..... mean people, both of them. Horrible. Thankfully, gone now. The white queen is in office now. Or she was, last I checked. But I didn't meet the White Queen on my first journey, so I'm getting ahead of myself! Let's see now.... The lizard named Bill. Oh how mean I was to that poor man! I kicked him out of the fireplace when I grew to big to be in the White Rabbit's house, and then I knocked him and the rest of the jury over. I feel terribly sorry.

Of course, all of this had to end at some point- it was horribly sad when it did, but it had to. When I got back everyone but my now-late-father thought I was daft, but I brushed it off at the time. It was such an amazing adventure after all!" Alice exclaimed as she sat back down in her chair and took a deep sip of her tea.

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Character Portrait: Wendy Moira Angela Darling Character Portrait: Alice Kingsley Character Portrait: Peter Pan
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Wendy nodded and smiled at Peter's thanks. She was glad it had helped her old friend get back to his old self. She could even dig him up a sword if he started to get down in the dumps again, fencing had usually brought his spirits up before, even if his Lost Boys weren't anywhere to be found in this world. Even if she had to let him win, she thought, amusing herself, as she was pretty sure the only time she'd won in Neverland was when Peter had let her, or for a joke. Maybe she could actually win now that she was older? It didn't look like he'd kept up his practicing, although perhaps it was unkind to take advantage of his time outside of Neverland... nah. She could use all the advantage she could get, especially since he'd grown since then.

Her own part in the story had been greatly reduced, Wendy noticed, but she chuckled anyway. It was a very good story, although it was hard to tell if Peter changed his stories because he genuinely couldn't remember them accurately or if he, in experiencing the event, had focused so much on his own actions that others faded from his memory. Either way, it wasn't a malicious omission, and while she considered her books more of an accurate-as-possible chronicle of their adventures, Peter had no such requirements. And why should he? He told stories because he loved to, and because he enjoyed it, so as far as she was concerned as long as she wasn't somewhere in the background swooning like a cliched princess she had no objections.

She was very definitely ignoring Peter's ending phrase of his story. Hadn't they had that conversation before? And really, since Peter was going back, there was every reason they'd have it again later, so there was no need to rehash those memories this particular evening. Alice's story she'd heard before, but it was always funny and odd and different to hear. Wonderland seemed as 'living' a place as Neverland, but in a way that made no sense at any time, including its citizens. Neverland, unlike Wonderland, changed in more predictable ways, unless Peter was involved. Those who lived there lived out their own lives in more or less predictable ways--the Pirates sailed around the island, the Fairies mostly in their Hollow and occasionally elsewhere, the Lost Boys and their leader wandering around, finding adventures and/or trouble. From Alice's stories, Wonderland was a topsy-turvy upside-down full of magic sort of place. Where were the rules? She was sure there was some, you just had to find them. One thing about it, though, it was full of random nooks and crannies and stories that children loved because they made no sense.

That fight with Captain Hook, that brought up memories. Especially with the sword she'd just put away. It had been an exciting time, the most exciting time. The last exciting time, but that was depressing, so she ignored that thought. At least looking for a way back to Neverland would be something more interesting than her life had been lately. The long weekend would help out, but if she had to she could take another day off, or just work around her shifts. Where to start, though? There were some old bookshops downtown that she had only browsed through before, and maybe a deeper perusal would lead them to another way from this world to others. Alice might have some other ideas, as they tended towards different spots when they were wandering in town in their free time.

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Character Portrait: Wendy Moira Angela Darling Character Portrait: Alice Kingsley Character Portrait: Peter Pan
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Wendy picked up the book and flipped a few pages. "I'm going to have to take a long look at this. Mirrors and potions and rabbit holes got you to Wonderland, it may stand to reason that something in these pages carries the secret of how to use those methods to get to other places. And if not, there's some bookstores I'd like to look through tomorrow."

Paging through the book as they sat and drank their tea, Wendy took a while and then pointed to something on a page, accompanied by a diagram and a few faint scribbles. She could hear Ranvir groaning from the bathroom. "This could be helpful. It's hard to tell, it's not exactly clear or simple and some of it is completely unreadable. However, what I am reading here is that there were stories of someone who found a way to travel to a bunch of places, although the exact method isn't quite detailed enough. It does mention that this traveler used two components to get from one place to the other: a 'mad mirror,' and what the story calls 'a potion of dark moonfire and a queen's crowned jester, colored with melancholy and joy in equal parts.'"

She put the book down gently on the table, although she would have rather thrown it across the room. "The potion I'd have to research, and this might be a complete dead end, it doesn't make much sense to me and potions aren't really my area of expertise. But the mirror... that sounds like a mirror made back when they used mercury in the process, in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Buying an antique like that would be out of the question, but it's possible we could find one that we could borrow for the purpose, as presumably you would drink the potion and stand in front of the mirror. One sure thing is that if we could figure out that potion, according to the story we could get wherever we wanted as long as we have an object that carries a part of the land's soul or, more relevantly, have been there before. So Peter, you should be able to get to Neverland, again, if we can figure out the rest of this spell."

Gazing at the dregs of her tea, Wendy stood up and got some ice cream out of the freezer, serving herself some and offering it to her friends. "A couple of scoops of strawberry ice cream, for dessert, if anyone wants it? Anyway, I can't make heads or tails of that potion description. Moonfire sounds like an alcohol to me, but I've never heard of it. And a crowned jester sounds historical, but fairly unlikely unless it's some kind of euphemism. So I'll leave this up to you, Alice. Does any of this sound familiar, so it's worth looking in to, at least? Or does it sound like a waste of time and I should do some more research to find some other methods? Not that this will necessarily work, we might have to try a couple of things before we get lucky."

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Character Portrait: Wendy Moira Angela Darling Character Portrait: Alice Kingsley Character Portrait: Peter Pan
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The next week passed both too quickly and too slowly for Wendy's taste. Too slowly because finding Peter clothes that he liked, would stand up to Neverland's demands, and reflected his particular flair wasn't exactly easy. Peter figured that the fairies could whip him up something, no problem, but Wendy didn't want to take any chances. Also getting \all the survival essentials was prepared, with things like a first aid kit, making Peter roll his eyes. Wendy was all about the preparation. Once she was back to her work schedule after the weekend, Peter had fun stopping in to her workplace and had no idea what a regular sleeping schedule was like. On the one hand, it was good to see him getting back to his much better moods, mischievous and arrogant in turns, but on the other hand she needed more sleep!

The time passed far too quickly because even though the items they needed seemed difficult to obtain, when it came down to it they just sort of .... fell into their laps. A mirror from a cobwebbed corner of a thrift store, a potion recipe for dark moonshine from one of Alice's haunts, and the others in one way or another came into their paths. Peter was overjoyed, but it was starting to seem a little too easy to Wendy. Regardless, they pushed forward, assembling all the things together. The potion could only be completed on the night of a new moon, which was several nights ahead, so until then all Wendy could do was go to work and make lists of things Peter might need in Neverland.

Days were also passing too quickly because Wendy, as mawkishly sentimental as it was, was not looking forward to saying goodbye to Peter yet again. And then the question always came to her, usually in the wee hours of the morning when she couldn't sleep, what if she didn't say goodbye? What if she just went with Peter to Neverland, even if it meant staying her current age forever or even going back to the age she had been when she left? But the same problems would still exist. And would about Alice? She was an adult, she could make it on her own, but it wasn't exactly a nice thing to do to her roommate. They'd become really good friends, and abandoning her for Neverland didn't strike her as good form.

In the end Wendy knew the choice had to be hers, and she could only avoid Peter's blunt questions about it for so long. She had put enough in his survival pack, which ended up being a large duffel with enough to help Peter and the Lost Boys for a while, whether or not she left with them. She was pretty sure Alice wouldn't go. It was Wonderland Alice wanted, Wonderland she dreamed of, not Neverland.

The night before the last night Peter would have in the real world was somber, on Wendy's part. Peter was happy, although still nagging about Wendy's decision, but content enough with whatever Neverland would do to him. He didn't like age any more than he used to, and he made that pretty clear. The three of them had gotten along pretty well over the last week or so, and Peter's leaving would change that. But Wendy, after all, was a big girl, and there was enough steel in her spine to do what she had to do, although the nagging voice in the back of her mind kept telling her that when she said goodbye it would be forever this time, and that her regrets might be stronger than her common sense.

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Character Portrait: Wendy Moira Angela Darling Character Portrait: Alice Kingsley Character Portrait: Peter Pan
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#, as written by Ivisbo
Another week after waiting for two years was nothing for him. You would think they time would have past slowly, but that was not the case. The last two years seemed like centuries compared to now....compared to his week with Wendy and Alice.

If Peter had initially landed in this world and found his Wendy right away, things would have been much different. He could not see that this world was far more interesting and spectacular then her had witnessed by himself. Wendy took him to places that they had never let a street kid in before; places like massive grocery and clothing stores. Aisle and aisle of food just waiting to be eaten, mountains of fruit, and piles of meat waiting on a bed of frozen ice. And the clothes. Peter had never seem such insane, magical, and crazy colors before. While he himself could never imagine wearing anything of the sort, Peter found the attire to be interesting to say the least. At first, Wendy had to drag him into the consignment shop. He hated they idea of changing- especially into some ridiculous outfit picket out by a girl. But after a few begrudging minutes in the dressing room Peter soon realized that he actually quiet enjoyed shopping. At least the trying on bit was fun- he had a few girls from the store gathered round by the end. Of course, most of the clothing would do no good in Neverland, but he let the women have their fun (they reminded him of the mermaids and it only made him more excited for home).

Wendy and Peter settled on a pair of tan cargo shorts, a simple green shirt, and a pair of 'converse' (they were black sneakers, but everyone insisted he call them by their true name). After fussing over it for almost 30 minutes, Wendy also convinced Peter a jacket was a good idea, so they left the store with a light weight water proof black zip-up.

Other then the shopping- which Wendy forced him to do a lot of- Peter spent most of the week at the house. When Alice was home and Wendy wasn't, he would entertain himself by listening to her wild way of speaking and crazy stories. She told him of Cheshire and the Hatter and all her friends in her Wonderland. Peter was very interesting in her upside down world and would love to visit it some day- maybe after a few hundred years in Neverland.

When Wendy was home, Peter spent all his time with her. Though he knew he was probably being annoying and disrupting her- he couldn't help himself. He had longed to go home for two years and now he was finally getting the chance....but he found himself wishing he had more time. Here he was, years older and years later, finally seeing his Wendy again....and soon it would all be over.

Peter knew that if he went to Neverland and Wendy stayed, he would never see her again. He knew it just as he knew that he needed to be home- Wendy and him would never meet in this life. Which is exactly the reason he painstakingly fought for her to come with him. He brought it up every chance he got and insisted on discussing their plans even though he knew she had not answered. But she never said anything on the subject, just 'hummed' in her Wendy way and changed the topic to more practical manners.

The night before they planned to leave for Neverland, Peter lay awake on the couch. Both Alice and Wendy had retreated to their rooms and he had forced himself to lay down- but he knew he would not be sleeping tonight. He stared into the dark room around him, absentmindedly stroking his smooth face (Peter has requested the girls show him how to shave) as he thought over what would happen tomorrow. The Lost Boys would rejoice and Tinkerbell would be pissed out of her mind. Captain Hook would think he had seen a ghost and the Indians would throw a beautiful party for him. The mermaids would sings him sounds and Tiger Lily would dance....Neverland would be waiting for him, he was sure. There was not a single doubt in Peters mind about tomorrow- except for Wendy.

Peter turned on his side and gazed towards the pitch black pit of the hallway across the living room. The house was silent, only the creaking of the wood could be heard and the noises of the night outside. Alice was in her room, sleeping for doing whatever it was that Alice did (Peter stopped trying to figure her out the second day he knew her). Wendy was in her room, probably writing or working or sleeping....

By the time he realized he was up, Peter was halfway down the hallway and tapping lightly on Wendy's door. He was barefoot, bare chested only clad in the stripped blue and white boxers the girls had purchased for him on their shopping trip. He tapped one more time, bouncing on the balls of his feet, before he opened the door with a loud creak and slowly popped his orange head in.

"Wendy, ye' awake?"

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Wendy opened her eyes. She'd finally managed to fall asleep, and then of course Peter would stick his head in. She didn't have the heart to resent it, but she was too tired to process that at the moment.

"Mmm. Kind of. What's going on?" Might as well get up rather than have him in her bedroom.

Rubbing her eyes, Wendy sat up. She was wearing a cami and shorts pajama set that she should have resigned for the year, given the temperatures, but she liked it too much. Her mother had given it to her the last Christmas, it was a rather nice blue silk set that, for all that, wasn't so scanty Wendy felt like she had to wear a t-shirt over it in bed just to be decent for her dreams. Yawning and stretching, she slid over to the side of the bed and swung her feet down to put her slippers on. That done, she walked to the door and patted Peter absentmindedly on the head. More petting his hair than anything else, but she was pretty tired.

"If we're going to talk, I'm going to need some tea," she said through a yawn. "Lots of tea. Liters of it." Passing him on her way to the kitchen, she put the kettle on with her eyes all but closed. Looking through the cupboard, still not quite awake, she took out a tea that was just enough to keep her awake, but not enough to keep her up the whole night. She got out a cup and a saucer for Peter as well, and passed him some nibbles.

"So, my friend," she said, sitting down at the kitchen table to wait for the kettle to boil. "What's keeping you up tonight? The obvious? I assure that if we can't get this method to work, it won't take long before we can find another one. Alice and I have a very unique skill set, and one of them seems to be getting travelers... home." Thankfully the kettle whistled so Wendy could get up and pour the tea for them. She sat a cup and saucer in front of Peter. Even if he didn't want it, which was fine, she didn't want to leave him without tea while she enjoyed it. Besides, it was good for him.

Home. Where was home, really? Peter had made his thoughts on the matter plain, but looking into his dear old face in the wee hours of the morning. Wendy wasn't so sure where hers was. She had won adulthood by sweat, blood, and tears. Could she leave it again? She guessed the real question was, if home is where the heart lies... where was hers?