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Post by Deleted on Oct 29, 2015 3:45:47 GMT
It was evening, which meant it was time to let the flames begin. Every night was a weekend in Neverland, and that was just how Pan liked it. He was at the height of his ruling on the island, had a right hand lost boy and plenty to spare. A few mermaids at his aid to help give a motherly hand to the boys when they felt that random touch of homesickness. And now even a fairy stumbled on the island. Pan was lucky, devilishly lucky. He knew the way to a fairy's magic was in the belief. And if his boys could believe in Tink, well it would be a win win, wouldn't it? His lost boys could get fairy dust, Tink would get her wings. Peter felt rather cocky right now, everything felt planned out and he didn't even think anyone would stray from this plan. They had no need to, life was the way it should be in Neverland. Pan eyed the fire that was roaring in the center of the clearing and pulled out his pipe. First was the usual 4 chord bit that basically chimed the lost boys to make their way over. And then he began to play the pipe so that the area was filled with the music that only the abandoned orphan ears could hear. Peter continued to play his pipe peacefully as he waited for his loud rowdy lost boys to make their way to the clearing.
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Post by Deleted on Oct 29, 2015 18:53:48 GMT
Tinkerbell currently had a lot of emotions coursing through her. She was homesick for the Enchanted Forest, she was worried about Zylar - who was now known as the tin man, and she was now on an island she didn't know full of strangers. Peter Pan, the leader of the 'lost boys' seemed to be a kind enough boy. He had brought her to the fire to meet the other boys.. she wondered how they would take to her. Would they want her to leave? Or maybe they'd see her as a sisterly, or maternal figure. Only time would tell she supposed. "I hope the others like me." She followed him to a clearing.. there was no one there at first. Perhaps everyone was off hunting, or sleeping, or what ever else boys did when they were on their own without parental chaperoning.
She was about to ask Peter where the others were, but just as she opened her mouth to speak, he began playing an instrument. The tune was lovely. She hadn't really heard music since long ago in the Enchanted Forest before she'd lost her wings. Her thought about wondering where the other boys were was lost for a moment. Tinkerbell slowly sat down on a log, and watch Peter play his pipe. A moment later, she began to hear rustling in the woods. Her eyes drifted in to the treeline. It wasn't long before rustling was coming from all sides. And then they were visible.. the boys. Pan must have been bringing them to him using the music. It was quite clever, really.
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Oncer
Neverland is always home
Personal Text
Single
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Student
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Peter Pan
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Stephy
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Sept 10, 2021 14:51:12 GMT
Tag me @pascal
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Post by Pascal Wade on Oct 29, 2015 23:56:00 GMT
Neverland had quickly become like home for Pascal. At least it felt more like home then when he was living with his parents. He was free to do as he please whenever he wanted to. He was grateful towards Pan. He was the one to give him this freedom, so he knew he would do whatever Pan asked of him. No matter what that was. Luckily for Pascal, Pan has never has him to do a thing. Well anything big. Maybe he still needed to prove his worth. He still wasn’t very good at much, and need to get better. He didn’t want to deem worthless to Pan, like some of the younger lost boys.
At the moment he was climbing the rocks on the mountain. His end goal was to get to the top of the mountain effortlessly, and so far he has only made it half way up before getting tired. This night, he climbed just a little higher than normal, when he heard the sound of Pan’s pipe. He stopped and turned his head towards the direction of the pipe and saw smoke coming out of a clearing. He climbed back down and fallowed the sound. On the way he ran into some of the other boys. When he got to the clearing he looked at Pan and the girl next to him curiously, but then joined the younger boys in their rowdiness.
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