#nrpgstart

“That’s ridiculous — I am not! Why would I be?” Peter hissed through clenched teeth as he half-turned to glare at a new spot on the ground directly in front of him. In doing so, his gaze was pulled toward nearby movement and he was surprised to find someone approaching.

Thorn's home was a small, hollowed out tree-stump since the fires drove him from his home. He didn't mind being exposed to the elements; there was a sheltered area, but usually he liked to lay on his back, staring up at the sky and listening to the ambience in relative safety.

For some reason, this time, he heard the sounds of a large creature or lifeform nearby. He paused, looking in that direction, feeling himself go cold; what was it? Was he safe? He didn't want to flee his only home left. He's tempted to stay hidden, but instead, he stands, wings carrying him up into the air as he looks over. He'll be bold, right now.

"Who's there?" He asks in his most commanding voice as he hovers towards the sound.

He found himself at the Pirate Camp, doing his best to relax when he heard the distinct sound of someone walking up behind him. He prepared himself, unsure of who was approaching. But they did not make themselves known quickly, which only irritated him more.

"Now then, sit down or state your business."

LOCATION :     the bonfire.

wendy had never danced so much in her life. she spun in circles around the bonfire, whooping & laughing with the other ‘lost boys’. her chest was heaving & cheeks dusted with a deep rosy blush when she finally stepped away from those blazing embers. not wanting to halt the others’ fun, she tiptoed away to regain her energy & breathe in some air that was not muddled with smoke. as she strayed further, her ears pricked at a not-too-distant sound : splash, bubble, splash. curiosity was one of the girl’s greatest faults, leaving her with no choice but to investigate. wendy was sure it would be merfolk ( likely trying to join the fiery festivities from afar ) yet, as she neared the water, the eyes that glinted back were not human nor mer nor anything she could recognize. but, she thought to herself, it was dark & the moon’s light could often play tricks. the darling crept forward, her skirts growing heavy with every step further into the shallow water, trying to get a better look at the elusive creature peering through the surface . . . 

something brushed against her, causing the girl lurch out of her hypnotized daze.     “ you scared me half to death ! “     she gasped. a hand flew to her chest, easing the pound of her jolted heart.     “ i just needed to catch my breath, but then i saw-- “     in the time she had blinked it had vanished. the horizon was now empty & her hand was outstretched with a pointed finger towards nothing but open water. no eyes peaked above the surface, leering.     “ well, i thought i saw something . . . no. i did see something. there, in the water. you must have seen it, too. it was right there a mere second ago. “     she frowned, finally turning to the shadowed figure.

~ Location: beach ~ ~ Time: Sunset / Evening ~

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With the evening breeze comes along a curious Fletcher, hopping from one place to another, caught up in their own little world. The sun had been high over Neverland when they departed from their tree, thinking to themselves that they'll just head out for a quick little adventure to try and stir up some inspiration.

Now, the sun is half set over the horizon, the sky alight with pink and orange hues. However, Fletcher's attention is firmly on the ground. The bag they had brought with them was almost ready to burst, clinking and clattering as they moved. Rocks, petals, twigs - anyone else would think it a collage of nonsense. Not Fletcher. Each of these things had the potential to be made into something beautiful.

Their outing had taken them quite far from home. They didn't realise until they found themselves sifting through the sands of one of Neverland's beaches. A delightful place, great for glass and other little treasures from the sea. A discovery was made - not anything they could grasp, but a discovery nonetheless - prints, left by something living. Fresh, not yet washed away by the tide nor blown over by the winds. With a playful smile, they begin to follow the prints, gleeful to solve the mystery of who made them. Their wings let off gentle chimes as they followed the trail. Eventually, the prints came to a stop.

Now, what have they got here?

It really was an alarmingly green place, even caught as it was in the last dying breath of winter. Helen had been born to stone, forged by steel, and taught by ink. Greenery was a bit of a foreign concept to her, though it was described in no-small detail in the occasional story. Those same stories knew that the greatest horrors of all lived in the green, outside the feeble trappings and laws of civilization. It was no surprise Pan's Shadow came from such a place.

Helen, however, had not, and she moved between the branches and stepped upon the dirt as if it would fall out beneath her at any moment. The sea lay not far from her left, the depths of the forest to her right, and Helen walked between them as if she walked in twilight. It was only a call, perhaps a greeting or a noise of surprise that turned her head.

"Hello," she eventually said, eyes finding the being that spoke to her. "Who are you? Have you seen the Shadow? I've been looking for it. I've a few questions for it. I'm not sure what I am supposed to be doing if there are to be maimed pirates and grieving... Smallfolk I believe they're called without either of us lifting as much as a finger." Honestly, she thought to herself, it's like being thrown to the wolves. Wolves would at least smell better than this lot.

A rustling of the leaves nearby caught her attention, and inwardly, Alana sighed. Solitude never lasted as long as she liked. She listened for a moment longer, taking in how the sound only seemed to be getting louder, before she dived back underwater. A sharp grin stretches across her face as she spins back up, creating an almighty splash as she re-emerged. “Have you come to play?” she calls out, her voice airy and teasing.

where: the beach

That long, cold winter had made certain chores more difficult than Charlie would have liked. It wasn't like he disliked the responsibilities he had picked up, the same responsibilities that allowed him to remain with the crew that had so rapidly become his family, but the general loss of food, warmth, and general comfort hadn't done much to endear the things that had to be done to the boy responsible for doing them. Cold ocean water didn't make laundry any more enjoyable, and Charlie was rapidly approaching a point where if he had to wash clothes in more cold ocean water, he simply might stop doing the laundry.

Sitting back, resting his hands and allowing his muscles to relax from the pose they'd been in for hours, Charlie sighed, tipping his head back to look at the sky. "I really hate winter laundry," he said to the sky, completely unaware of the person near him. "One day, people will do their own laundry, and I can go back home in good time."