#lostboyslightly

lostboyslightly replied to your post: [Pirate Curse = Shakespearen Insults]

((I KNEW IT.))

 Things had been going rather terribly for the League of Pan in the days since the Jolly Peter sunk into the Neversea. John, Curly and Puppy hadn't ceased with their complaints of hunger, Tootles and Wendy had kept insisting Peter control his temper (Which, Peter would like for me to say, he hadn't one), and worst Slightly had been banished. This wasn't bad news for Peter, for the Wonderful Boy much preferred the quietness that now took the Slightly's irritable whistling, but for everyone else in the league this was very bad news indeed.

 'You liked Slightly's songs before, Peter.' Tried Wendy in her many attempts to get the boy to return for the banished one.   "I've never liked music," hissed out Peter in a voice that was hardly his own. He then went to inspect how Ravello was doing on shining his-- or rather Hook's, which were now his-- boots. The Raveling Man paid close attention to detail, making sure ever inch of the worn, black boot, was as shiny as the day when Jas Hook first put it on, however, upon Peter's approach he put his rag down and trained his eyes on him.

'Curly believes The Honourable Slightly is warning him in his dreams,' said The Raveling Man. 'Perhaps the Great Peter Pan should go looking for him?'   "Nonsense," said Peter in a very grown-up-ish and firm voice. "It's the berries talking."   'Perhaps,' mumbled Ravello returning to his work on the boots. 'You of all people should know, however, that dreams in Neverland are never just dreams.'

 Peter rubbed his chin as one would when they have a beard growing in the spot.  "What about the Roarers?" After banishing Slightly to the wilds, Ravello had told the Explorers of the Roarers, the gang of Lost Boys that had been banished by Peter for growing up or simply disobeying the Wonderful Boy's orders. He spoke of the darkness that filled the Roarers hearts and how they spoke of nothing but revenge on Peter Pan.  Peter had feigned carelessness for the story when first told to the group, though, the more he thought about it the more scary such things seemed.

'They can't hold a candle to the Great Peter Pan. Now can they, your Greatness?' said Ravello without a bit of subservience. Perhaps because he knew that words such as this would send Peter racing off into trouble, even rigid and cold as he was these days, the Wonderful Boy's childish nature refused to let him back down from a challenge.  Suddenly, Ravello found Peter's unpolished feet slipping into the boots and marching of in the direction of the League of Pan without letting him finish his work.  'Peter, where are you going?' asked Wendy as the boy passed, finding it most difficult to keep up with him on her tiny legs.

 "To get Slightly," He said offhandedly, shooing Wendy away as if she were a fly in his ear.

 Then as if noticing the movement, Fireflyer soared over to them, chirping about wanting to go with.  'It's almost dark, though!' Exclaimed the girl. 'Shouldn't you wait until morning?'

"I need to get out of camp for a while," Peter retorted quite harshly, "I've grown tired of your nagging and their complaining."  This froze Wendy to the spot where she was standing and she watched as Peter marched off into the glade. Fireflyer bobbed behind him, gulping down gnats and swamp gas as they went.  Eventually the boy and the faerie arrived at the spot where he'd banished Slightly, the weeping of the witches could be heard from here but Peter was hopping to catch a different sound floating on the wind. He heard none, however.    'Delicious notes,' hummed Fireflyer from a foot or two above Peter's head. 'So... Delicious!'  Peter paid no mind, for he was trying his best to tune out the rambunctious pixie, far more focused on the sorrowful sound of Slightly's clarinet, which the League of Pan had heard only yesterday.    'Faeries die if you ignore them!' Screeched Fireflyer at the top of his lungs, bobbing down to grab a strand of Peter's hair and then bolting upwards to yank if from his scalp. "Ow! You bawdy hell-hated mammet!" Sneered Peter reaching up to snatch Fireflyer out of thin air and squeeze him until his eyes popped out of his skull, but the pixie had already whizzed off over the stream, mumbling once more about delicious notes and gulping down what appeared to be thin air.  So, of course, Peter chased after him wanting nothing more than to rip the wings from him and nail the pixie's head to a tree trunk. They ran until they reached a clearing in the middle of a large wood, for Fireflyer had stopped suddenly, shaking a bit.

lostboyslightly replied to your post: Your mean to slightly.

Oi, what’re all’ve you talkin’ about me for, anyway!

  Dawn was a strange thing in Neverland during the fall, the sun never shined as brightly as it did in the summer and it hardly ever warmed anything. The crocodile was probably deep inside a cave somewhere already, for a cold had swept in off the ocean and refused to leave, thus the ticking reptile had decided winter knocked on their door a bit too early.

 Peter was only affected by the cold air a bit, the Lost Boys and he hardly recognized it anymore, but whenever a goose pimple popped up on their arms they'd grab their fur coats from the chest stuffed behind the shelves. Each boy had their own animal skin to keep them warm, Peter's was an ebony wolf who's canine snout hung over the Only Child's wispy rust colored locks whilst the rest of it draped over his fall outfit of jay feathers and autumn leaves. 

 He wandered over to the hammocks where the Lost Boy's slept and shook the top one ferociously, attempting to wake Slightly from his slumber, and if Slightly still neglected to wake up he'd flip to hammock over and dump Slightly into Nibs' bed for good measure. Or so he thought he would. They were heading to the Mainland to hopefully recruit more Lost Boys-- and perhaps even Lost Girls if Peter felt they were good enough-- to join his ranks. Many things lead to this decision but there were none of them which Peter would've liked to have shared. So he bit his tongue and kept his secrets secret.

To break Slightly,

My hand encircles the arrow that’s in my chest. The blood is seeping through upon my skin and through my dress. I can feel my eyes widening as I stare ahead at who it was that shot me. My own friend… someone I took under my wing… I know it was an accident – I know he never meant to. I was in the right place at the wrong time… and that arrow went flying from his grasp and nestled itself right inside of me.

As much as I try to open my mouth and speak I find I haven’t gotten the energy – the pain was crippling me and my eyes were stinging with tears that eventually found their way down my cheeks. Dinnae blame yerself, Slightly bad at archery… I find a groan passing my lips as I slump back to the ground. …Ye finally made the perfect shot. I find myself in darkness, wallowing around with many different thoughts carrying me towards the light. Memories passed my mind – all leading to that fateful moment when I died.

I didn’t get to hear his pleads of my awakening. The way he blamed himself, the way he wished he hadn’t done such a thing… I bet he’ll always regret this day and wish it never happened. I bet he’ll wonder why he ran – why he ran and left my body to rot in the middle of the many archery targets I had set out to help him get that perfect shot. Well he got it… he finally got it…and to me, he was finally, just… Slightly.

aforgottendreamer

lostboyslightly [i think]

start a thread with blondepixiedust

uhhh