Villain
Post by Solana on Nov 4, 2010 0:59:18 GMT -5
The boy; sandy blonde hair, medium height, and a big grin, dashed the familiar path towards the window. He looked back quickly, grinning wildly, and ran straight into a chimney.
His smile flipped as he fell, stunned to the roof.
"Stupid things always get in my way..." He grumbled, standing and brushing himself off as he always did.
He hurriedly popped back into the air when he heard the tinkle of amused bells quickly approaching; and was very nonchalantly floating, again, along the path when the girl caught up with him. Red waves were pulled up into a messy, falling-out bun above shimmering blue eyes.
"You're such a fail, Pan." Her bells reminded him merrily, and the boy crossed his arms moodily.
"Shut UP, Tink."
The little redhead rolled her eyes and came to a graceful stop in front of the window now locked in her memory. She wondered vaguely how long this fling would last.
"We're here," she chimed offhandedly, but the boy had already gone back to grinning and perched, with as much grace as he could muster, on the windowsill. The girl, taking up much less room then the sandy-haired boy at her whopping height of 4'8", sailed elegantly into the remaining windowsill beside him. Pixies were generally smaller then humans, running from 4' to 5'3 (if you were ginormous), so Tink was about normal size. The girl furrowed her brows and stuck out her bottom lip in a blatantly obvious manner.
"I hate this stupid girl." She tinkled childishly. "She's so goddamn obsessed with you, Peter. It's creepy." Peter waved a hand at the pixie.
"Shut it, Tink! I'm trying to listen!"
Tink rolled her eyes, again, and pouted, again, as the soft english voice began, "Once upon a time..."
--
The girl inside had legions of stories. Never-ending tales; and she was the absolute authority on Peter Pan. She knew the Captain, the Lost Boys, the Mermaid Lagoon; but not Tinkerbell (something the fairy was absolutely furious about). But she knew near everythng else about Neverland; and Peter wasn't the only one who loved her stories about, well, mostly him.
"I looooooove the Captain! He's my ab-so-looot favorite!" Giggled the six year old girl, bouncing excitedly on the bed with a pirate hat on.
"No, no, no, Ray." Giggled the teen in her proper english voice; the one that nearly identified her as a grown-up and that the two littler girls hadn't developed yet. "Peter Pan is the good one! The Captain is awful!"
The little girl with the curly blonde hair; which separated her from her straight-haired twin, theatrically pulled out an invisible sword and began to fight an invisible pirate to the music of her twin's burst of giggles. She quickly stopped giggling and appeared to have an idea; then pulled out a sketchbook and began to draw furiously.
"But I like pirates better!" Ray protested, tossing her yellow waves stubbornly. "If I lived in Neverland, I'd be a pirate." As that moment her sister finished the drawing of Ray all decked out in pirate gear--complete with a peg-leg--and grinned triumphantly.
"Look, look!" She called, and the older brunette leaned forward to examine her sister's drawing as Ray launched herself off the bed to eye the picture in obvious approval.
"It's beautiful, Willow!" The brunette cooed happily. "I'll put it on the wall."
At that, Ray lapped around the room with Nanna, the girls' dog, close on her heals, screaming as the top of her lungs; "WILLOW'S PICTURE OF ME ON THE WAAAAAALLLLLLLLL!" As Willow laughed happily, then paused. She was the more mature of the two; born seconds earlier but three years older.
"Wendy?"
The pretty brunette hmmmn?ed in response.
"Is Neverland real?"
Even Ray stopped bouncing off the walls to hang in anticipation of the answer to the vital question. Wendy finished pinning the picture in the wall, tucked a chocolate wave behind her ear, and smiled her pretty little smile at the two anxious girls.
"Of course it is, darlings." She assured, kissing the top of Willow's head.
"Of course it is."
--
It was a few nights later and Tink sighed, loudly and obnoxiously, for the eleventh time.
"Tink." Peter stage-whispered, annoyed. "I am trying to pick the lock. Be patient."
Peter was absolutely determined to get the lock on his own; and had already refused the now very-annoyed Tink's help five times. He, for the gazillienth time, pulled the doors of the window outward. They didn't budge, as they hadn't the first thousand times.
A random man on the street looked up at the sudden sound of faint bells that sounded... pissed off? He looked up but saw only a flickering red light a few stories above, and continued ignorantly along.
"Will you please, PLEASE let me try?? PLEASE?" Tink shouted in her symphony of bells; and Peter, a little surprised, flew back a bit.
"Okay, Tink! Jeez! No need to yell!" He attempted to whisper. When Tink got red, even someone as oblivious as Peter knew if was best to give her what she wanted.
Tink flew forward, leaned down just barely over the windowsill from her hovering position in the air, and pushed to doors in rather then Peter's efforts to pull them out. They swung easily and soundlessly into the room.
"Oh." Peter said softly as Tink darted into the room, annoyed, and perched on top of the dresser; the red gleam to her light fading slowly.
"You're welcome." She chimed harshly; but Peter just floated hesitantly into the room; checking to make sure the little dog who'd taken his shadow was safely locked away and all three girls were asleep. He then began to rummage through drawers; in the process knocking over a loud plastic tea set (which cause Wendy to turn in her sleep) and opening the brunette's underwear drawer (which he was already halfway through rummaging through when Tink's laughs made him realize what he was holding), before he sighed, exasperated.
"Tink!" He called, forgetting to whisper. "Help!" Tinkerbell rolled her eyes and swung gracefully off the top of the dresser; flying slowly through the room and opening every nook and cranny she could find, until she saw the wardrobe.
"Peter?" She chimed, reaching for the door. "Have you tried--?"
She opened the door curiously at that point, stepping closer to see into the dark wardrobe, and the shadow zoomed out. She spun to watch it, but wasn't faster then Peter; who launched after it, in the process knocking into the dresser door which flung Tink into the wardrobe and stuck the door. Her angry bells shot out as she yanked, pulled, pushed, and kicked at the door; to no avail. The door stayed near-glued shut as Peter zoomed around the room. His shadow, not surprisingly, was as flailish as he was, and they both managed to overturn the entire room. Tink's yanking on the door and Peter's shouting after the shadow woke Wendy up; and the brunette shot out of bed, shocked, to see Peter wrestling with his shadow in the corner.
"Peter Pan!" She called, a graceful hand snapping to her mouth, and Peter's head whipped around to watch her with wide, guilty eyes. The shadow squirmed, but Peter had him and was trying to stick him on with a pinecone.
"Ouch." He muttered moodily, and Wendy laughed softly.
"That's not how you do it, silly!" She laughed, stepping toward the even wider-eyed Peter. "It needs sewing. Come with me." She leaned down to take his hand and tugged him across the room; and, from the keyhole, Tink saw (to her smug satisfaction) that Peter make a face at their joined hands.
The brunette sat Peter down on her bed and began sewing Peter's shadow back on carefully.
"My name's Wendy." She offered softly.
After a pause, "I found your shadow--Nanna had it. I knew you'd want it back, so..."
Wendy waited for a response and, when she didn't get one, she flushing softly. "I can't believe it's really you."
Peter blinked awkwardly and Tink, in the wardrobe, smirked.
"Uh." Peter stuttered, "How fast can you sew? I've got the Lost Boys waiting..."
Wendy started, and realized she'd stopped sewing. "Oh, right! I'm sorry. That's your band of men, of course." Wendy put in the last few stitches. "I know most everything about Neverland, you know--The Lost Boys and the Captain and the Indians..."
"I know." Peter grinned, "I tell your stories to the Lost Boys!"
"My stories?" Wendy paused as Peter flew up and tossed his shadow onto the wall. "But they're all about you."
"Exactly!" Peter grinned, and Tink rolled her eyes.
"Well, I'm afraid there won't be any more come tomorrow..." Wendy sighed softly, standing and smoothing her dress. "It's time for me to grow up."
"Grow up!" Peter shouted, then leaned toward Wendy at her frenzied shushing. "But you can't grow up! Come back to Neverland with us!" Tink snapped to attention at that; again yanking at the doorhandle.
"Neverland! Oh, we'd love to!" Wendy spun happily as Tink yanked at the door. "Ray! Willow! Wake up!"
The girls stirred softly, and Peter stepped forward quickly, anxiously hushing Wendy.
"Why are you waking them up?" He whispered loudly. "I can't take all three of you---"
"Oh, but you must!" Wendy spun around to face Peter again, making no effort to lower her voice. "I won't go without them!"
Ray sat up, rubbing her eyes tiredly and reaching over to shake Willow. "Go where, Wendy?"
"Neverland!" Wendy sang, and Peter and Tink both face-palmed at exactly the same time.
"Neverland?" Willow repeated groggily, and Ray almost literally flew out of bed.
"I need my blue raincoat! And my orange bunny slippers!" Ray yelled excitedly, grabbing said items. "Wendy! Where's my lime fedora!"
"Shhhh, Ray!" Wendy laughed, taking the clothes and putting them back. "We don't need all these things for Neverland! There's no rain there, silly!"
At that point, Tink shoved a shoulder into the door and toppled to the ground when it came unstuck. After a stunned moment on the floor, she hopped into the air; hovering angrily into Peter's face.
"We are not bringing them to Neverland, Peter! What are you going to do with all these girls?? Besides, what good will the stupid-ass brunette do, huh? She's practically a grown-up!!"
Tink's voice sounded of nothing but bells to the girls' ears; pixies spoke a universal language that anyone could understand. Her words were more like formed ideas, and any person, speaking any language, could understand a pixie's words. All it took was faith, trust, a lot of time, and a very, very open mind. Unfortunately, the girls didn't know to listen for her voice nor had they the time to hear her, so they heard bells. Which, for that particular outburst, may very well have been better for them.
"Ohhh, what is she?"
"She's shiny!"
"What is she doing?"
"She's talking." Peter answered to the slurry of questions from the girls.
"What did she say?" Willow asked quickly.
Tink straightened, floating a few inches from the floor, crossed her arms over her chest, and smirked.
"Tell 'em."
Peter shot her a look, then shrugged.
"Nothin'. Tink's running out of pixie dust, is all." He avoided, and Tink huffed, turned her back, landing neatly on the ground, and walked with a distinct "i have hips and you don't" movement directed toward Wendy, who noticed nothing.
Peter sighed softly, then conceded. "Tiger's gonna kill me for this... are you guys ready?" Peter asked; and the three girls nodded, eyeing each other with nervous excitement. "If Tink'll..."
The pixie in question turned from her throne atop an overturned chair, glaring at Peter. Peter gave her that look he had; the look that said C'mon, Tink. Loosen up.
After a heavy pause that even the two little twins understood, Tink sighed heavily; a tinkling sound of exasperated resignation.
"Fine, Pan. But you owe me." Tink flicked her fingers at the three girls and hopped off the chair; twirling gracefully through the window and hovering just out of sight.
"Alright; just think of something wonderful, and you'll be good! Ready?" Peter hopped into the air and hovered slowly toward the window. Willow was nearly more graceful the he was; immediately leaping after Tinkerbell; with her sister following more clumsily behind and whining "Wait uuuupp!"
Wendy scrunched her nose and rose, with difficulty, a few inches into the air, and Peter took her hand, smiling softly.
"It's okay. You'll it the hang of it."
And the odd group headed out; to the second star to the right, and straight on 'till morning.
His smile flipped as he fell, stunned to the roof.
"Stupid things always get in my way..." He grumbled, standing and brushing himself off as he always did.
He hurriedly popped back into the air when he heard the tinkle of amused bells quickly approaching; and was very nonchalantly floating, again, along the path when the girl caught up with him. Red waves were pulled up into a messy, falling-out bun above shimmering blue eyes.
"You're such a fail, Pan." Her bells reminded him merrily, and the boy crossed his arms moodily.
"Shut UP, Tink."
The little redhead rolled her eyes and came to a graceful stop in front of the window now locked in her memory. She wondered vaguely how long this fling would last.
"We're here," she chimed offhandedly, but the boy had already gone back to grinning and perched, with as much grace as he could muster, on the windowsill. The girl, taking up much less room then the sandy-haired boy at her whopping height of 4'8", sailed elegantly into the remaining windowsill beside him. Pixies were generally smaller then humans, running from 4' to 5'3 (if you were ginormous), so Tink was about normal size. The girl furrowed her brows and stuck out her bottom lip in a blatantly obvious manner.
"I hate this stupid girl." She tinkled childishly. "She's so goddamn obsessed with you, Peter. It's creepy." Peter waved a hand at the pixie.
"Shut it, Tink! I'm trying to listen!"
Tink rolled her eyes, again, and pouted, again, as the soft english voice began, "Once upon a time..."
--
The girl inside had legions of stories. Never-ending tales; and she was the absolute authority on Peter Pan. She knew the Captain, the Lost Boys, the Mermaid Lagoon; but not Tinkerbell (something the fairy was absolutely furious about). But she knew near everythng else about Neverland; and Peter wasn't the only one who loved her stories about, well, mostly him.
"I looooooove the Captain! He's my ab-so-looot favorite!" Giggled the six year old girl, bouncing excitedly on the bed with a pirate hat on.
"No, no, no, Ray." Giggled the teen in her proper english voice; the one that nearly identified her as a grown-up and that the two littler girls hadn't developed yet. "Peter Pan is the good one! The Captain is awful!"
The little girl with the curly blonde hair; which separated her from her straight-haired twin, theatrically pulled out an invisible sword and began to fight an invisible pirate to the music of her twin's burst of giggles. She quickly stopped giggling and appeared to have an idea; then pulled out a sketchbook and began to draw furiously.
"But I like pirates better!" Ray protested, tossing her yellow waves stubbornly. "If I lived in Neverland, I'd be a pirate." As that moment her sister finished the drawing of Ray all decked out in pirate gear--complete with a peg-leg--and grinned triumphantly.
"Look, look!" She called, and the older brunette leaned forward to examine her sister's drawing as Ray launched herself off the bed to eye the picture in obvious approval.
"It's beautiful, Willow!" The brunette cooed happily. "I'll put it on the wall."
At that, Ray lapped around the room with Nanna, the girls' dog, close on her heals, screaming as the top of her lungs; "WILLOW'S PICTURE OF ME ON THE WAAAAAALLLLLLLLL!" As Willow laughed happily, then paused. She was the more mature of the two; born seconds earlier but three years older.
"Wendy?"
The pretty brunette hmmmn?ed in response.
"Is Neverland real?"
Even Ray stopped bouncing off the walls to hang in anticipation of the answer to the vital question. Wendy finished pinning the picture in the wall, tucked a chocolate wave behind her ear, and smiled her pretty little smile at the two anxious girls.
"Of course it is, darlings." She assured, kissing the top of Willow's head.
"Of course it is."
--
It was a few nights later and Tink sighed, loudly and obnoxiously, for the eleventh time.
"Tink." Peter stage-whispered, annoyed. "I am trying to pick the lock. Be patient."
Peter was absolutely determined to get the lock on his own; and had already refused the now very-annoyed Tink's help five times. He, for the gazillienth time, pulled the doors of the window outward. They didn't budge, as they hadn't the first thousand times.
A random man on the street looked up at the sudden sound of faint bells that sounded... pissed off? He looked up but saw only a flickering red light a few stories above, and continued ignorantly along.
"Will you please, PLEASE let me try?? PLEASE?" Tink shouted in her symphony of bells; and Peter, a little surprised, flew back a bit.
"Okay, Tink! Jeez! No need to yell!" He attempted to whisper. When Tink got red, even someone as oblivious as Peter knew if was best to give her what she wanted.
Tink flew forward, leaned down just barely over the windowsill from her hovering position in the air, and pushed to doors in rather then Peter's efforts to pull them out. They swung easily and soundlessly into the room.
"Oh." Peter said softly as Tink darted into the room, annoyed, and perched on top of the dresser; the red gleam to her light fading slowly.
"You're welcome." She chimed harshly; but Peter just floated hesitantly into the room; checking to make sure the little dog who'd taken his shadow was safely locked away and all three girls were asleep. He then began to rummage through drawers; in the process knocking over a loud plastic tea set (which cause Wendy to turn in her sleep) and opening the brunette's underwear drawer (which he was already halfway through rummaging through when Tink's laughs made him realize what he was holding), before he sighed, exasperated.
"Tink!" He called, forgetting to whisper. "Help!" Tinkerbell rolled her eyes and swung gracefully off the top of the dresser; flying slowly through the room and opening every nook and cranny she could find, until she saw the wardrobe.
"Peter?" She chimed, reaching for the door. "Have you tried--?"
She opened the door curiously at that point, stepping closer to see into the dark wardrobe, and the shadow zoomed out. She spun to watch it, but wasn't faster then Peter; who launched after it, in the process knocking into the dresser door which flung Tink into the wardrobe and stuck the door. Her angry bells shot out as she yanked, pulled, pushed, and kicked at the door; to no avail. The door stayed near-glued shut as Peter zoomed around the room. His shadow, not surprisingly, was as flailish as he was, and they both managed to overturn the entire room. Tink's yanking on the door and Peter's shouting after the shadow woke Wendy up; and the brunette shot out of bed, shocked, to see Peter wrestling with his shadow in the corner.
"Peter Pan!" She called, a graceful hand snapping to her mouth, and Peter's head whipped around to watch her with wide, guilty eyes. The shadow squirmed, but Peter had him and was trying to stick him on with a pinecone.
"Ouch." He muttered moodily, and Wendy laughed softly.
"That's not how you do it, silly!" She laughed, stepping toward the even wider-eyed Peter. "It needs sewing. Come with me." She leaned down to take his hand and tugged him across the room; and, from the keyhole, Tink saw (to her smug satisfaction) that Peter make a face at their joined hands.
The brunette sat Peter down on her bed and began sewing Peter's shadow back on carefully.
"My name's Wendy." She offered softly.
After a pause, "I found your shadow--Nanna had it. I knew you'd want it back, so..."
Wendy waited for a response and, when she didn't get one, she flushing softly. "I can't believe it's really you."
Peter blinked awkwardly and Tink, in the wardrobe, smirked.
"Uh." Peter stuttered, "How fast can you sew? I've got the Lost Boys waiting..."
Wendy started, and realized she'd stopped sewing. "Oh, right! I'm sorry. That's your band of men, of course." Wendy put in the last few stitches. "I know most everything about Neverland, you know--The Lost Boys and the Captain and the Indians..."
"I know." Peter grinned, "I tell your stories to the Lost Boys!"
"My stories?" Wendy paused as Peter flew up and tossed his shadow onto the wall. "But they're all about you."
"Exactly!" Peter grinned, and Tink rolled her eyes.
"Well, I'm afraid there won't be any more come tomorrow..." Wendy sighed softly, standing and smoothing her dress. "It's time for me to grow up."
"Grow up!" Peter shouted, then leaned toward Wendy at her frenzied shushing. "But you can't grow up! Come back to Neverland with us!" Tink snapped to attention at that; again yanking at the doorhandle.
"Neverland! Oh, we'd love to!" Wendy spun happily as Tink yanked at the door. "Ray! Willow! Wake up!"
The girls stirred softly, and Peter stepped forward quickly, anxiously hushing Wendy.
"Why are you waking them up?" He whispered loudly. "I can't take all three of you---"
"Oh, but you must!" Wendy spun around to face Peter again, making no effort to lower her voice. "I won't go without them!"
Ray sat up, rubbing her eyes tiredly and reaching over to shake Willow. "Go where, Wendy?"
"Neverland!" Wendy sang, and Peter and Tink both face-palmed at exactly the same time.
"Neverland?" Willow repeated groggily, and Ray almost literally flew out of bed.
"I need my blue raincoat! And my orange bunny slippers!" Ray yelled excitedly, grabbing said items. "Wendy! Where's my lime fedora!"
"Shhhh, Ray!" Wendy laughed, taking the clothes and putting them back. "We don't need all these things for Neverland! There's no rain there, silly!"
At that point, Tink shoved a shoulder into the door and toppled to the ground when it came unstuck. After a stunned moment on the floor, she hopped into the air; hovering angrily into Peter's face.
"We are not bringing them to Neverland, Peter! What are you going to do with all these girls?? Besides, what good will the stupid-ass brunette do, huh? She's practically a grown-up!!"
Tink's voice sounded of nothing but bells to the girls' ears; pixies spoke a universal language that anyone could understand. Her words were more like formed ideas, and any person, speaking any language, could understand a pixie's words. All it took was faith, trust, a lot of time, and a very, very open mind. Unfortunately, the girls didn't know to listen for her voice nor had they the time to hear her, so they heard bells. Which, for that particular outburst, may very well have been better for them.
"Ohhh, what is she?"
"She's shiny!"
"What is she doing?"
"She's talking." Peter answered to the slurry of questions from the girls.
"What did she say?" Willow asked quickly.
Tink straightened, floating a few inches from the floor, crossed her arms over her chest, and smirked.
"Tell 'em."
Peter shot her a look, then shrugged.
"Nothin'. Tink's running out of pixie dust, is all." He avoided, and Tink huffed, turned her back, landing neatly on the ground, and walked with a distinct "i have hips and you don't" movement directed toward Wendy, who noticed nothing.
Peter sighed softly, then conceded. "Tiger's gonna kill me for this... are you guys ready?" Peter asked; and the three girls nodded, eyeing each other with nervous excitement. "If Tink'll..."
The pixie in question turned from her throne atop an overturned chair, glaring at Peter. Peter gave her that look he had; the look that said C'mon, Tink. Loosen up.
After a heavy pause that even the two little twins understood, Tink sighed heavily; a tinkling sound of exasperated resignation.
"Fine, Pan. But you owe me." Tink flicked her fingers at the three girls and hopped off the chair; twirling gracefully through the window and hovering just out of sight.
"Alright; just think of something wonderful, and you'll be good! Ready?" Peter hopped into the air and hovered slowly toward the window. Willow was nearly more graceful the he was; immediately leaping after Tinkerbell; with her sister following more clumsily behind and whining "Wait uuuupp!"
Wendy scrunched her nose and rose, with difficulty, a few inches into the air, and Peter took her hand, smiling softly.
"It's okay. You'll it the hang of it."
And the odd group headed out; to the second star to the right, and straight on 'till morning.
