<div style="text-align: center"><u><b>Hook</b></u><br/>
<i>On the hidden path</i>​</div><br/>The mist’s coasted around them, unwieldy, thick, alive, like an ocean’s tide it bent and twisted around itself. Yet it parted for Tiger Lily, not in the way it parted from Hook earlier, when it dispersed into nothingness as he fired his sidearm, a hiss and recoil with such speed there was an air of fear in it. No, for Tiger Lily it parted like a tamed beast, it’s gaping maw spreading before them, fangs retracted as they stepped within its mouth, only to close behind them, teeth clamped down tight, shut, trapped as they made their way towards the belly of the beast. The woman took no pause in her step, each one measured with a certainty that had Hook slightly envious of Tiger Lily, why was it that<i>she</i>could trace her way towards Wendy Darling when he had to struggle with each and every step he took towards her, why was it that he had to fight for every inch of ground won whilst that same ground seemed to shiver and shake at Tiger Lily’s foot, paving her way to victory as it had always had.<br/><br/>It didn’t matter, none of it did, Tiger Lily had<i>joined</i>him now, she was on<i>his</i>side and so each step taken was a small victory for him.<br/><br/>They stopped after they’d come upon a small clearing, a tiny square, a dead end with several doors and windows facing inwards, towards them, like a circle of stone, a fence of sorts that had shut them in. One thing was clear, there was only one way out and it lay just beyond them. If Wendy was truly here there was nowhere to go now. Hook’s gaze followed Lily’s finger as she pointed towards a storefront across the way, the door open, dim light slowly sinking into the streets below. A collection of white boxes and darkened lids stood stacked on top of one another and at the very back, barely visible to Hook sat a man, a large one at that, arms folded, a lazy posture although his eyes… Hook could see immediately his eyes were sharp, alert.<br/><br/>“A lookout..” Hook mused with a smile. “Let us poke the bear hmmm?” He offered to Tiger Lily.<br/><br/>Without so much as a second thought Hook stepped forward, great, long, confident strides as he stepped into the Laundromat like he belonged. If Wendy<i>was</i>here, this man would have heard of her. He closed the distance to the man with haste before he had a chance to shift in his chair, his eyes narrowed as Hook grinned down towards him.<br/><br/>“Wendy Darling, I’m here for her.” He purred.<br/>“Know noone with such a name.” The man huffed.<br/><br/><i>Anger….There it was again…</i><br/><br/>Hook could feel his jaws work as impatience rose, heat already surging from beneath his coat, pulsing from the nape of his neck.<br/><br/>“No?” Hook murmured, his voice deepening as he pulled his coat aside, a flash of his revolver, followed by the flash of a golden hook nearly nicking the man’s nose before he scratched nonchalantly at his chin with the sharpened metal thing. “Piercing blue eyes, like those of a tropical summer’s waters, pale skin, darkened lips and something about her that just seems….<i>off….”</i>He hummed.<br/>“Where is she!?” He snapped not waiting for the man’s next response.<br/>“Alright, alright, nothing’s worth losing my life over alright? Calm mister, I’ll open the door for you.” The man suddenly piped up, his hands raised as he pushed himself from the chair.<br/><br/>Hook turned and smiled at Tiger Lily. “There, easy peasy.” He chuckled.<br/><br/>The man worked quickly, a pen in one hand, a piece of parchment in the other, he wrote something down, folded the paper and thrust it into a little capsule. There was a hiss as he pulled a lever, followed by a<i>Thump</i>As the capsule was sucked from his fingers, away into a glass tube that led into who knew where.<br/><br/>“Down here mister.” The man said as he pulled another lever, a towering wall of white boxes and blackened doors suddenly swinging open. Hook’s lips puckered as he whistled.<br/><br/>“A hidden wall door thingy… now that’s impressive…. Have to remember to get one of these for myself.” He chuckled. “Thank you good sir.”<br/><br/><i>Click<br/>
<b>BANG</b></i><br/><br/>There was a thump as the man hit the floor, a soft gurgle as his hands patted his chest down in disbelief, his eyes wide with shock as darkened crimson spread between his fingers and pooled beneath his body.<br/><br/>“Come Lily, we mustn't dottle, forward.” Hook said as he tucked the pistol back into its holder casually, like nothing particular of interest had just happened.<br/><br/><br/><hr class="bbc-hr bbc-hr--3"/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><u><b>James Dameron</b></u><br/>
<i>Suds and Bubbles</i>​</div><br/>He saw it in an instant, her form tightened, identical to that moment she’d heard the voice of Finley, the owner of the Starstruck. James had learned that honesty often brought you further then white lies, then walking the edge of what he<i>did</i>and what he<i>didn’t</i>know, and even though it hurt to see Wendy turn from that beautiful and confident creature to this contorted misformed mass of icy emotions he hadn’t regretted trudging down this path, saying the things he’d said, admitted the things he<i>would</i>eventually admit. He<i>could’ve</i>snapped back an answer in an instant, silenced Wendy right there and there with those very words, he was half convinced she would melt back into herself if he’d told her he was just trying to be honest but…<br/><br/>She was talking now, for the first time he could just lay there, his head pressed into the leatherback of the couch, his eyes searching hers and he could<i>listen</i>, to have her unfurl and vomit out the words that troubled her. He watched as lightning seemed to strike within those vivid blue eyes, an uncontrollable storm as she asked the inevitable question…<br/><br/><i>Would he hurt her?</i><br/><br/>A soft smile pulled at his lips, a chuckle that was lost in his throat and ended up as a small snort from his nose as he pulled one arm up to take the cigarette from her. He inhaled… deeply, letting the smoke roll through his mouth before letting it roll again into his lungs, only letting it escape in a long drawn out sigh after deep thought went into his answer.<br/><br/>“I won’t lie to you Wendy, I’m a swindler of sorts, words and untold wisdom… or perhaps not wisdom, but something else, those are my fortés.” He mused, shaking his head in disbelief at his own epiphany.<br/><br/>James could taste her lipstick on the filter, a bitterness mixed with some flowery sweetness, but mostly bitter. He kind of liked it and again he let a small laugh pool in his chest as he straightened, pulling himself up to meet Wendy’s piercing gaze, sliding in closer towards her as his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. The tension was still there, but her own words had pushed some of it away, if only for a little while.<br/><br/>“I do not need permission to hurt anyone…. I also don’t see any need to hurt anyone at any time, I’m not in that line of business Wendy… Not anymore, I tried that, I wasn’t cut out for it.” He hummed “You…. You are special Wendy, your story, your experience, everything and anything you touch seems to burst into colors and rainbows as you yourself whither away into cold grey’s. When word got out Mr. Darling himself was looking for a “cure” for his daughter well… I couldn’t resist.” James laughed.<br/><br/>“Imagine this… Imagine…” And James held out his palm before him, making a waving motion as motioned to the door. “A world that you have no memory of, except from a story told by a girl…. But imagine it feeling familiar nonetheless? Like… You know this place? Can you imagine that Wendy?” He asked softly.<br/><br/>James pushed the orange glow stuck between his fingers flat into the glass bowl, watching the embers scatter desperately as they sought something to burn. He paused then, lost in his own mind as his own words surprised even himself, had that been it? Was he not in this for the mountains of money Mr. Darling had offered? Was it Wendy herself who pulled him into this swirling world of madness? Tapping his fingers nervously on the tabletop before him he turned back to Wendy and something inside him softened when their eyes met. The smallest of smiles curled at his lips as every muscle in his face, his body, relaxed.<br/><br/>“Where would you go?” He asked softly.<br/><br/><i>Would you take me with you?</i>His heart cried out. Words unspoken but words that twisted and fought to free themselves from his gut.<br/><br/>There was a<i>thump</i>which pulled James from his dreamy state, his eyes snapping up towards the barman who pulled some sort of capsule from a glass tube.<br/><br/>“There’s trouble.” He whispered to himself.<br/><br/>Paul screwed open the capsule, unfolded some sort of paper, took pause… then hurried their way, James prayed he’d stop at another table, even though the man’s gaze told him otherwise. James couldn’t help but widen his stance a little, one arm placed nonchalantly across the table as a shield between him and Wendy.<br/><br/>“Miss…” the man said, his eyes shifting between James and Wendy. “Trouble, after you… apparently… please, take the backway.” The man offered urging them from their seats and pointing towards the far wall, which too James seemed like a definite dead end. James looked back at Wendy in confusion but offered his hand nonetheless as he scootched out of the booth and followed the barman in a somewhat hurried fashion.<br/><br/><b><i>Bang</i></b><br/><br/>Screams…. Panic…. People clambering over each other to reach that same point James and Wendy were being led towards. James didn’t know what was happening, had George been that controlling? Would he have sent someone after them after they had left the premises? And with a gun?! James pulled Wendy close and pushed her out infront of him, making sure wherever they were headed he was close behind her, keeping her safe.<br/><br/>“Go..Go! I’m here!” He growled as they forced their way through the crowd as the wall before them slid open into a concrete hall, small lights flickering nervously, guiding them onwards around invisible bends. James heard feet fall onto the wooden steps that led down into the bar from the Laundromat front. His mouth gaped open as his eyes met with a woman of black feathers and raven wings, she ducked into the Suds and Bubbles, a pair of heavy leather boots following her wake with deadly intent. "Go!" James hissed.<br/><br/><br/><hr class="bbc-hr bbc-hr--3"/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><br/>
<u><b>George Darling</b></u><br/>
<i>The Darling Estate</i>​</div><br/>George swore as made his way down the ever winding stairway that curled up from the main hall into the upper levers, a chandelier George himself considered “proper taste” blinking back bright little stars in the somewhat darkened room. His knee throbbed with each step, he’d dared to peek moments earlier only to feel his head sway as blood seemed to sink to his toes as he saw the swollen purple mess that pulsed back at him, his knee nearly doubling in size. Any weight he shifted that way sent waves after waves of agony through his entire leg and he had to clutch and slide the majority of his weight across the balustrade to make his way down.<br/><br/>“Wendy? Wendy!” He shouted impatiently<br/>“Mister Dameron! Wendy!” He bellowed again as his lacquered black shoes tapped against the marmered tiles after he stepped down from the final step. “Mister Dameron please, I need some assistance!” He cried out.<br/><br/>George swore again, cursing himself for dismissing the servants for the day, he’d wanted a moment alone with both Wendy and Mr. Dameron once they’d gotten acquainted, wanted to make sure Mr. Dameron understood<i>exactly</i>what was expected, what progress he wanted to see. She had to be presentable soon, they had planned a new release of small stories from Neverland and without Wendy’s appearance it would all be for naught, whether she helped write them or not the fans had to<i>assume</i>she had and thus, she needed to be there for the opening. George wobbled, a sheen of sweat running down his back and body, his button down shirt sticky as he looked for some sign of life, there had to be someone that could help him? But what would he say?<br/><br/><i>Help? There’s a floating man and a woman with wings, they attacked me? Peter Pan is here?</i><br/><br/>George shook his head violently, a quick slap to his cheek to refocus his jumbled mind. “Get yourself together George, no such thing as<i>Peter Pan</i>and<i>faeries</i>” He growled<br/><br/>It must be the pain, his mind trying to cope with the pain a bunch of robbers and thieves had brought upon him, his imagination weaving stories to cope with the pure shock of it all. A sudden crowd of shouts pulled his attention to the front door, people! There were people! Perhaps someone had seen the thieves break and enter, a servant maybe? Had they called for help? George was saved! Surely he’d be safe now, he gritted his teeth as he stumbled across the slippery tiles, trying to keep his balance best he could as he shuffled forward quickly, trying to ignore the spikes of intense pain that shot through his best he could.<br/><br/>“Help! Help! I’ll open the door! Help!” He shouted “Robbers and thieves! Stop them!” He continued as he slumped against the front door.<br/><br/>He saw the handle shake as someone tried to open the door from outside, a rumble of wood and steel as it shook impatiently. Then snarls and… laughter? Like a crowd of drunks hooting happily, it sounded more like some sort of party than any sort of serious law enforcement. But honestly, what choice did George have in the matter? The thieves would surely kill him if they found Wendy’s room empty, as he had moments earlier, they’d hunt him and torture him, probably trying to get a hold of her for some sort of ransom. George reached out to the handle and shifted his weight so it would swing open, welcoming those who had assembled outside beyond the heavy wooden doors. A swirl of mist curled inside, carefully, like an anxious creature testing a new environment, a moment later a man stepped from the darkness, his features slowly coming into George’s view. A tumble of ashen blonde hair pulled back in a makeshift ponytail, a scar down his lip, across his chin, a loose linen shirt and linen pants held up by a makeshift belt made from rope. A cutlass hung loosely inside a sheath, his fingers curled tightly around its hilt. George stepped back in disbelief as the giant stepped towards him.<br/><br/>“Stay back! What? Wh-” George’s stammer was broken as a meaty hand snapped tightly around his neck, pressure around his throat caused air to falter, his breath cut short as his feet were slowly lifted from the tiles.<br/><br/>“Unhand me” George hissed desperately, his hands clawing frantically at the man’s fingers.<br/><br/>The his of metal caused George’s eyes to widen, they darted towards the man’s other hand which pulled back, a cutlass pulled back ready to plunge into his fatty flesh. George kicked and clawed madly now, his eyes wide in fear as he looked into the man’s eyes. He was met with stormy blue eyes, eyes that pierced his very soul, a flutter seemed to spark in George’s heart as he recognized those eyes immediately, they were so like his sister’s, they always had been. Then there was pain, a sharpened sting that plunged deep into his body, the icy cold cut of steel penetrating his gut, ripping cloth and skin. A tear pooled in George’s eye as his hand reached out towards the man, fingers tracing his features for but a moment as the warm embrace of thickening blood pooled into his clothes, across his skin.<br/><br/>“Mi- Mich- Michael…. it… its …. you… you’re back…” George whispered in disbelief as Michael’s fingers unfurled and dropped George to the ground with a sickening crack. The man blinked and looked back at Smee, their “Hook for now” as Smee liked to repeat over and over again.<br/><br/>“He called me Michael, who’s Michael, Smee?” He asked Smee. The little man just ushered Michael forward into the great hall away from George who clambered desperately towards Michael, his hands outstretched wanting to touch, to feel, to hug his son. “N-n-n-no such person as Hmm-hmm-hmm-Michael anymore, y-y-you’re Gu-Gu-Gutripper! Find Puh-Puh-Peter Pan!” Smee ordered as more pirates quickly piled into the Darling Estate.<br/><br/>Smee was answered with cheers, cheers and whistles, hoots and cries, as men tumbled inside with vigor and purpose. The Jolly Rogers brought them here, Peter was close…. That much Smee knew for certain.<br/><br/>Meanwhile George Darling was forgotten as his body slowly grew cold, alone, engulfed in darkness as his blood pooled across the marmered floor, his vision tumbled in darkness as he watched his son lumber away, drops of red following his wake, dripping from endless streaks that covered his blade.<br/><br/><br/><hr class="bbc-hr bbc-hr--3"/><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><u><b>Peter and Pan</b></u><br/>
<i>Darling Estate</i>​</div><br/>Peter watched as the darkness shifted within Tink’s eyes, the liquified black eyes slowly giving way to a soft puddle of gold, gold that slowly grew into a vivid mercurial pool of bright yellow sparkles as her wings fluttered, her shoulders held high as her skin, her shoulders, her warmth, slowly slid from his fingers and she flew away from Peter, free from his grasp.<br/><br/>“Go home?” Pan muttered beneath his breath “we’ve only just arrived…”<br/><br/>Peter always loved watching Tink fly, it was always so different from their own, her wings being the source of her flight, limbs held differently then Peter’s when he flew. When Peter flew everything felt weightless, free of the perpetual pull of gravity, propelled forward by sheer will, the need to<i>move</i>forward, further, higher, FASTER. Tink’s wings had an hypnotic aura to them, the speed at which they trembled, the sound of the air itself vibrating, the wings itself translucent, gold now teasing it’s edges they called for Peter. His palms pressed against the cold walls as he approached the door she’d ducked into, Fable’s voice lost on him now. Then her laughter chimed from within and Peter found himself smiling as he peeked around the corner. He watched Tink press her toes, her feet into the soft, plush, white material before lifting upwards once more. She hovered towards and over a bundle of straps and cloth her gaze filled with a curiosity that pushed Peter inside after her. He watched as the bundle unfolded into a collection of belts and buckles that jingled loudly.<br/><br/>“What have you found Tink?” Peter mused as he floated inside towards her.<br/><br/>Peter got about halfway when Fable’s drone changed, his voice suddenly darkened, filled with a kind of sorrow Peter didn’t much care for. His final words however sunk deep into Peter’s gut, they almost seemed to cut at his heart, like the words themselves<i>hurt</i>. Peter’s eyes saddened as he turned towards Fable, who stood at the door, a book held limply in one hand.<br/><br/>“Wh-….What  does that mean?” Peter croaked, his voice breaking ever so slightly.<br/>“It’s all about Wendy, Peter, they hurt her… a lot… this place? Where they’d kept her? It must’ve been like an endless nightmare.” Fable whispered, like his voice would awaken some dark creature within the room. His eyes scanned Peter, then Tink holding up a straitjacket. A soft smile touched his lips as unseen pain deepened in his gaze.<br/><br/>“Like what you’re holding there Tink, it’s made to trap someone, bind them into themselves, to never be free unless the trapper decides to set you free.” He said softly.<br/>“Best leave it be….” Fable finished... Fable suddenly sounding a lot older than he looked.<br/><br/>Peter hated it… hate…. hate…<br/><br/><i>hate, hate, hate, hate, hate...</i>.<br/><br/>His jaws tightened, teeth gnashing as his eyes narrowed, the white’s of his tattoo’s seemed to flash brighter, the darkened shadows between them creeping forward, taking hold as Pan pushed forward against his own soft heart.<br/><br/>“I<i>HATE</i>it.” Peter growled.<br/><br/>Fable seemed to stumble backwards, almost tripping over his own feet, a thud as paper bound by leather smacked into the floor. Peter’s fists tightened into balls of fury as he stepped towards Fable.<br/><br/>“I…..” Peter’s voice shook.<br/><br/>And then a bellow, a scream so loud, so dark and deep the whole room seemed to darken as shadows spread from Peter’s feet, shadows that clambered in every direction, shadows that seemed to claw desperately for some sort of escape, a scream of a thousand voices as<i>Pan</i>took hold.<br/><br/>“<b><i>HATE IT</i></b>!!!!” Pan roared angrily.<br/><br/>Pan’s face contorted, his eyes now a swirling darkness flicking from Tink to Fable, back to Tink as shadows danced at his feet.<br/><br/>“George…” He growled “It's all HIS FAULT, I WANT HIM…. I want him dead!” He yelled.<br/><br/><i>dead, dead, dead, dead, dead…. die…</i><br/><br/>Pan looked down at the shadows that scrambled beneath his feet, the hundreds upon thousands of souls that sought to escape Pan’s everlasting grip, he laughed madly as he stomped and stomped and stomped. That’s it! That’s what he’d do! He’d take George’s shadow and keep him to suffer forever, like all the rest! He would make George suffer like Wendy had! Forever and ever and ever, in his own forever Neverland.<br/><br/>“Tink! Fable! Don’t fall behind…” Pan cackled madly.<br/><br/>Pan cracked a maddened smile, pulled the shadows that thrived inside him back to his feet, lowered into his haunches and launched himself forward, a darkened streak following his wake as the sound of a thousand voices screaming, begging, crying for release followed Pan’s trail as he blasted out the dreadful room, back towards George, he’d take his shadow, take it forever….