#tss+starter

It had been centuries since Kai had last visited the town, and she had heard that it was riddled with pirates since Hook’s takeover.  It seemed unlikely that the rebels frequented the area, and if they did, Kai was sure they would do their best to blend in.  Sighing, Kai knelt down next to a large tree, her knees digging into a moist bed of moss.  Cannibal Cove, then?  It seemed unlikely to her that the mermaids would know of the rebels’ location, and even more unlikely that they would tell her if they did.  Kai frowned in frustration.  She had wasted enough time on Neverpeak, attempting to make a difference as a part of Tiger Lily’s group of rebels.  She refused to waste even more just time trying to find the group of people she knew shared her determination to end the destruction of the island and its inhabitants.  But what could she do?  She knew how to track animals, but finding a group of humans and the like who were actively avoiding being found… That was a whole different thing.

"I don’t get why we can’t take them all down to be honest. You all saw how quickly we can conquer." The voice carried out in to the laughter of the group. It wasn’t whining or sulking about it but just seemed to be enjoying the idea of bringing more terrorisation, more and on a bigger scale. Taking back the whole island wouldn’t go as easy as said, she knew they weren’t that strong but the power it’d verge appealed to her. Another boy mockingly questioned her what she’d do then all day while one spoke up that there’d be no fun in that, soon the whole conversation roared up again.

She shook her head smiling, her curls following the lead unwanted. Her fingers brushed it back, it was a feature that made her slightly stand out from the others, whose haircuts were hidden under their capes at the moment. “Still, we were amazing.” She made a playful movement to express her satisfaction. “I mean, did you see how I came from the back with my knife when you pulled that arrow?”

"Standing there silent, doesn't keep you from my senses. Speak up, I don't bite." Much, a murmured thought on the ending of the statement as he turned to look over his shoulder to whomever was watching from the afar, from the shadows.

Tramp found himself sat at a pub in the town, enjoying the brief time of peace as much as he could. He grinned at himself when he felt eyes on him. Someone had approached him from behind, but the rebel felt no threat for the first time. For once, he didn't have to worry about being attacked. Tramp took a long swig of his beer. "Take a seat. Have a drink. Enjoy it while we can," he said to whomever had crept up on him.

He could sense a change within the island as though the spark of war was within him. Pan may have been warped into a shadow of who he once was, but that did not stop the connection he held to the island. The centuries he resided on the land had long ago planted a seed within him. Should anything put the island at risk, the seed grew and blossomed, raising alarm to the boy despite how twisted he was. The sensation was like an electric shock to the brain, painful yet rejuvenating as Peter became filled with wonder and new meaning in the war. In this wild game of chess, someone had made the first move. Peter could not deny his desire to see what would happen next.

The effort it took to rally his clan together was minimal, of course. One such as Pan who learned to see red had told tales to his followers for what seemed like eons. Stories of bloodshed staining the shores of the island took the place of heroic deeds told lovingly by doting mothers. Fight, he would demand of the small children and hardened veterans of the island, at times even pairing them together to defend their very lives. From this demand, the boys he had taken under his wing were savages to the core.  His group of menacing boys far too lusting for blood picked up their arms and marched onward into the battle. Joy and glory could only be solidified if they were to fight for it. Pan would not accept anything else.

In the dead of night, Pan and his group bled into the battle, drawn to the chaos like a moth to flame. Havoc reigned upon their arrival as the Lost Clan triumphed in such atmospheres, taking the lives of pirate, native, and rebel as though they were ants. Peter paid no heed to who his followers slaughtered. Everyone was prey to him, including those he once held most dear. In the distance he could see the traitor upon her horse, looking everything but regal in the stone-cold eyes of her previous confidant. The sight caused a rage too ferocious to extinguish. It pulled upon the boy to march toward her, only stopped when someone jumped in between him and his desires, wielding what appeared to be a make-shift sword. Peter instantly drew his own to make the metal clash together, not yet seeing who dared to attack him in the mix of fire and smoke.

"Stand down," he seethed between gritted teeth, eyes boring into the other.

Leading a small crew of men, including some prisoners shackled in confined cages, prisoners that he would deal with later. He held a torch in his hand, wind blowing in the direction he needed and the weather conditions dry enough for him to do what he planned to do. Men lining up by the trees, dousing the wood in oil, soaking into the natural fibres, practically hearing the island screaming in the inevitable destruction that was going to follow. The main source of fighting raged on elsewhere, closer to port, they were unexpectedly further in land and Hook had barely showed his face in the fighting. He had other plans for the time being.

With a light flick of his hook, the men tossed lit matches and lanterns and torches to the wood, setting the front alight, already raging and angrily tearing upwards into the leaves and incinerating branches in its wake. Not before long the forefront of the forest was crackling with angry fire beginning to trail towards the parts further in. Almost hearing the screams of rebels within the heat, fire searing their skin, breathing heat into their lungs, nothing but chaos around them. He would have to thank Tinkerbell later.

Before Hook threw his own torch into the already raging inferno he turned, feeling a gaze boring into him, expectantly waiting for whoever it was to speak up.