<div style="text-align: center"><b><u>Hook</u></b><br/>
<i>Starstruck on the left</i><br/>​</div>It had been years since he had been able to set foot on the shores of Neverland, the cursed lands created by Pan himself, a place of mischief and mystery. It had always been a thorn in his side, this place was cursed, it kept<i>him</i>from doing what he was made for, gave unfound hope to those who found their way into the churning seas that belonged to him. That was how it was, in ages past, people would fall in the waters, into the cold depths and they would swim. Swim until their legs would no longer keep their souls afloat, swim and struggle as his waters would take their lungs wave after wave. In their final moments, as the cold embrace of the endless oceans was about to swallow them<i>he </i>would come, their final desperate cry would summon his ship, his crew, himself from the darkened depths and he would judge them, would take them to their rightful destination, to a world beyond. But now, now they would cling to this island, would frolic with fairies, swim with mermaids, dance with the tribes and fly with that mad Peter Pan, that abominable creature who would dare call himself a "boy".<br/><br/>He had come alone this time, no use in taking his restless crew, it would cause nothing but trouble among the tribes to have his own cutthroats rummage through the forests. His black boots crunched as they sunk deep in the soft mix of sticks, stone and dead leaves, a less flamboyant than usual black leather coat draped over his shoulders, his arms hidden beneath it, one hand curled around the flintlock pistol, the other, a glinting gold plated hook ready to strike with a vicious slash at any that would dare strike at him. A smirk crossed his lips, one that caused the scar around his left eye to fold with the creases of age. In the distance he could hear the steady rhythm of drums played in a melodic rhythm that even he, from this distance, could feel flow through his body almost naturally.<br/><br/><i>She </i>would be there, she might not want what he wanted, but in a certain way their goals aligned... If they could come to some sort of deal...<br/><br/>A voice suddenly whispered in Hook's ear, soft, scared, familiar...<i>Wendy</i>....<br/><br/><i>"Not Peter... It's <b><u>Hook</u></b>"</i><br/><br/>It was like before, except there was no mist, there was just<i>her </i>voice in a moment and then... a window, a window framed by intricately carved wood painted gold. Hook's hand slipped from his pistol, fingers testing the fabric that separated him from the room he could see form before him, there were people, so many people, so much noise, a bar stood in the center of a room, paintings lined the walls around him.<br/><br/>"Wh...What?" He breathed as his fingers found a fabric unknown to him, it was like a cloth of sorts but it seemed heavy, laden with some sort of layer on the other side, yet he could see through it, he could<i>see </i>Wendy seated at a bar, a broad shouldered but kind looking man propped beside her, his eyes studying Wendy with a peculiarity that reminded Hook of his own gaze when he had first met with Wendy Darling. The man's eyes suddenly snapped up towards him, it was like he was watching him, like he could see Hook. Then as quick as their gazes met, he was gone. his gaze falling to a voice that echoed in the distance, away from Hook.<br/><br/>A twig snapped just behind Hook and like that, he was pulled from this trance, this dreamlike state in which he was pulled time and time again. Each time Wendy was there, each time he could see the woman linger just beyond his reach... Something was wrong, very, very wrong, he had to find Wendy and he had to find her soon.<br/><br/><br/><hr class="bbc-hr bbc-hr--3"/><div style="text-align: center"><br/>
<br/>
<b><u>James Dameron</u></b><br/>
<i>Starstruck on the wright</i><br/>​</div>James had watched the exchange in silence, the way the woman taunted at Wendy's insanity, the lingering venom clear on her voice. It was a venom James had heard many times in his life, it was the hardened touch of jealousy, one that turned men and women into sour beings, unable to stay respectful to those around them, to those that may seem<i>better off </i>than themselves. James had read about Wendy's past, it hadn't been a cake-walk, in retrospect, it had been a gut wrenching experience for her. The fact she even followed him inside the Starstruck on the wright, a bar well known for the way it marketed Wendy's stories without the Darling family's consent by tip-toeing around the edges of the law was a show of great personal strength in its own right. Movement in the far corner caught James's eye, a painting of a forest draped in darkness, small lights hidden away in the distance, if you squinted you could make out small dark figures dashing between the trees.<br/><br/>Except that's not what caught his eye, for the figures were painted and stood perfectly still. James swallowed a lump that pressed against his throat as he squinted, leaning forward so far he nearly toppled over Wendy.... There was a hand, for a moment he swore he could make out a hand pressing against the canvas, a hand that formed<i>inside </i>the painting. His attention was snapped away however by a man who forced a crowd apart with the booming of his voice, a potbellied loudmouth, the kind James hated most. His gaze found Wendy's and he smiled softly, his hand found her shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze before he stepped between Wendy and the man, James's frame keeping Wendy away from the man's line of sight.<br/><br/>"Is there a problem here?" James asked "Can the lady not enjoy her drink in peace?" He quickly added before the man could respond.<br/>"Problem? Problem!? Have a drink somewhere else! Not in<i>my </i>bar." The man announced loudly, his hands held aloft like he were carrying some great weight, like he held the world atop his shoulders.<br/><br/><i>Ah... The kind that fall the hardest, those who truly believe their own lies.</i><br/><br/>"Are you telling me kind sir, that the mind which brought you these riches, these tales, this world you thrive your establishment on is not welcome here?" James asked<br/>"Wendy Darling refused to work with me! I built this bar with my<i>own mind!" </i>The man yelled, his fists shaking as he pointed a shaky finger up at James.<br/><br/>At the mention of Wendy Darling a small ruse pressed through the crowd, indistinct whispers, chatter among patrons, people leaning into eachother as eyes darted from Wendy to James, to the small rotund man who seemed to glow from pink to red to purple in a matter of seconds as James merely chuckled at his remark.<br/><br/>"Ah... So you've<i>been </i>to Neverland then?" James asked as he bent down and lay his arm around the man's shoulders, leading his gaze from painting to painting as he pointed at each and every-one. "You've seen the the Indian Camp then, the savage Tiger Lily? The Hangman's Tree near The Boys and their hideout? Skull Rock even out in the Northern seas! You've swum with the mermaids in Mermaid Lagoon and crossed the hazardous Crocodile Creek? Perhaps you've even sailed the churning seas before Cannibal Cove?" James asked, a glimmer in his eyes as the names seemed to drop into his mind without a second thought, as he pointed at each and every location with a deadly certainty.<br/><br/>"Well... N-N...N..No." The man answered.<br/>"Good man..." James chuckled giving the bearded fool a pat on the shoulder before moving across to Wendy.<br/>"Fear not, the message was clear sir, we will leave your fine tavern based on stolen tales."<br/>"You're no better than a Pirate." James laughed over his shoulder as he offered Wendy his arm once more, he paused before her and gave her the smallest of winks, bowing his head ever so slightly. "Ma'dam?" He asked.<br/><br/>There was an air of discomfort that hung throughout the bar now, whispers turned to gossip, voices growing ever louder as drunken patrons decided among themselves that perhaps a pirate's den was not suited for their taste.<br/><br/><br/><hr class="bbc-hr bbc-hr--3"/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><br/>
<b><u>Peter Pan</u></b><br/>
<i>Darling Estate</i><br/>​</div>Peter's face seemed to sour, a look of revulsion clear on his features as he cocked his head sideways and hovered ever closer to George. His nose seemed to twitch as he sniffed the air around the man.<br/><br/>"He<i>grew up."  </i>Peter spat in disgust. "This is not the Georgie we knew Tink... best forget that boy for this man.... This man is now our prisoner." Pan smiled.<br/><br/>Peter snatched up the walking cane beside the large cushioned lounging chair, he took up a playful fencing stance, one hand stuck to his lower back as he stepped back and forth towards Fable, the look of disgust slowly fading into a more playful smile as he flourished the poor boy, poking left and right, tapping his thigh, his side and chest in quick successions. "En garde!" Peter cackled loudly as Fable winced, trying to catch the cane with his bare hands.<br/><br/><i>tap, tap! </i><br/><br/>Peter snapped the cane against his hands hard, laughing as he did, it caused a sharp yelp to rise from Fable's throat before the boy hissed, shaking his hands in disbelief trying to cool the heat that now rose beneath his skin.<br/><br/>"Beware, a blade is sharp if you try to catch it with your bare hands Fable, consider that a lesson." Pan chuckled as his attention shifted back to George who slowly slipped back into the realm of reality because of all the noise they had been making. Pan flew over towards George, gliding through the air with a graceful agility, he hooked himself around Tink, careful to avoid her wings as he used her as an anchor, shifting himself infront of George, his gaze locked on the fat and folded skin of the elderly man. Peter stretched his body in the air before George, floating, laying in an unseen bed as the man's cane dangled from his finger.<br/><br/>"What's all this?" George mumbled as his droopy eyes forced themselves open.<br/>"Wakey wakey George..." Pan snapped, his palm slapping against the soft skin of George's cheek.<br/><br/>George's eyes snapped open with fright, his weight shifting back causing the armchair to almost topple backwards completely. "Who are you! What is this? What's the meaning of this! How did you even get in!" He called in dismay<br/>"So many questions Georgie.." Pan chuckled "Let's start with ours right Tink? Fable?" Pan asked, his gaze trailing towards Fable, to Tink and back towards George.<br/>"We're looking for someone George, someone that seems to have returned, someone we thought was gone.... forever..." Pan explained.<br/>"Gone? My sons?" George said, his eyes blinking in disbelief as he took in the face of the invader, painted with blacks and whites, bones, a skull pressed onto the young man's features, in the eerie orange glow of the dimming fireplace he looked terrifying, like a specter called from the beyond.<br/>"Geeeeeeorgieee no silly... Your sons are with<i>me</i>, they are<i>mine..... </i>In Neverland." Pan cackled as he tucked his legs beneath his floating body, making it seem like he was seated on absolutely nothing. "No George.... where is<i>Wendy....</i>How have you kept her hidden all this time?" Pan snapped.<br/>"Hidden? Wendy?" George's eyes grew wide as his eyes darted from Tink to Peter. "Nev....Neverland? You're from Neverland?" George asked.<br/><br/>Pan clicked his tongue in frustration, letting his feet fall to the floor before George, he spun the cane lazily in a steady rhythm the sound as it cut through the wind echoing through the empty room.<br/><br/><i>Woosh, woosh, woosh, woosh....</i><br/><br/>"George... I<i>am </i>Neverland" Pan snapped<br/><br/>And with that final retort, with the word "Neverland" rolling from his tongue with a clear tone of disgust, a hint of aggression the rhythmic beating of wind stopped, the room fell into a deadly silence when suddenly.<br/><br/><i><b>Crack</b></i><br/><br/>The head of George's walking stick, a heavy looking brass ball smashed into George's knee with a bone shattering crunch, Fable gasped whilst George howled in pain. Pan's eyes however, they were lit with a brightness, a shine that mirrored those of a raging fire. Pan crowed loudly as he twisted into the air and landed with both feet on George's thighs, using the cane the press the man back into his seat. Pan dropped himself to his haunches and smiled wickedly at George.<br/><br/>"Getting older can be such a drag..... I do hope that wasn't your good leg Georgie.... Now.... Tink!" Pan snapped<br/><br/>As Pan's gaze shifted towards Tinkerbell his features softened, a smile cracked onto his lips, one he reserved only for her. He pushed through the darkness and let himself out into this world of mischief and fun once more. "Tink... Could you ask the questions, he just seems to ask me more questions when I only ask one..." Peter pondered.