𝔹𝕌𝕃𝕃𝕊𝔼𝕐𝔼

[banditnate]

MEET BANDIT

Hi, gang! Thanks for having me. I’m so stoked to be here :) 

Some lightning-round headcanons about my Lost Boy below 

He never leaves the (tree)house without his HAT – a particularly worn, black baseball cap. There have been a few hats through the years; he hangs onto one until it completely falls apart, then replaces it. It’s kind of his subconscious security blanket. Without it, he feels naked. Many people probably have never seen his head bare. It’s only when he’s in the safety of his designated home (previously his bedroom in The Other Place, now in the hideout with the Lost Boys). (If you DO see him without it ...  It’s essentially like when a cat trusts you and shows you their fuzzy lil belly :) )

He’s always loved FIRE, enthralled by its golden embers and burning coals. Sometimes he’d stare into the flames of a campfire and watch as they curled and licked at the air around them. He often wished he could engulf himself in it, wrap himself in its inferno and wear it like a blazing shield. Get as close as you dare, but touch him and you’ll get burned. 

Nate has a habit of SNEAKING up on people–both friend and foe alike. It’s not always intentional. He’d learned at a young age to be stealthy and light on his feet for his own safety (for Reasons that I don’t need to unpack in this tiny little welcome post), which has proven to make him a useful addition to the Lost Boys. Agile and quick, I imagine he’s Peter’s first pick for a reconnaissance mission (aka spying on the Pirates).

After years of practice, he’s gotten wicked good with crafting and wielding a bow and arrow. He started off just aiming at wild pigs and rabbits as game for supper, but once and a awhile ... a human has a target on their head and a Boy’s gotta do what a Boy’s gotta do 🤷🤷🤷 On a lighter note, I imagine Peter’s probably told him on a couple occasions to aim at apples on the Boys’ heads for his entertainment. On the other hand, sometimes there are pirates who get too close to hurting Peter and he’s aiming right for them. Which leads me to ....

And above all else: he will do absolutely anything for Peter, everyone’s favorite boy-king monarch and savior supreme--because he is so Lost in the Pan Sauce. 

If I haven’t bored you to tears yet with my rambling, check out his BIO for more info! 

Thanks for reading! :’) Can’t wait to write with you all! Shoot me a message if you wanna talk shop. I may or may not have tiny HCs for just about everyone here already.... oops

[banditnate]

B A T T L E ! final round

The low, golden sun lit up the meadow in patches, illuminating the dust that still lingered in the air from the last match. The beads of sweat that ran down Rufio’s temples told Bandit the obvious: he looked as tired as Bandit felt. Coming into this Battle back-to-back from the previous match could either aid or hurt Rufio, he figured. Though he was technically still catching his breath from his last fight with Echo, he was also already warmed up and ready to go. Bandit had the edge of a moment’s rest, but it was a double-edged sword: taking that time to sit down also made him realize how exhausted he was. His muscles began to ache, and his whole body began to feel heavy.  

Thankfully, there were ways to win other than solid strength. All he had to do was bait the bull--wave the red flag and watch him run. If Bandit played his cards right, by the time Rufio realized what was happening, he’d be on the ground and bleeding.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Bandit called, digging his toe firmly into the ground where he stood. “You took quite a beating out there. Wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself.” 

For @ragelost​​

[wndybyrd]

@banditnate :: continued from HERE.

delicate hands planted firmly atop her hips—a far less commanding stance than the one bandit took, towering over her—the girl’s crescent-moon frown flipped upwards into a slight smirk. he was too easy to bait, maintaining an ego that rivaled peter’s at times. 

even as the lost boy tilted in, his imposing frame casting a shadow over her, she kept her feet flat upon the floor, unyielding. he did not frighten her, not really. not always. wendy had witnessed the way bandit frolicked around peter, hungry for the boy-king’s praise. he may have thought himself a wolf, grinning meanly at her to show off his sharp teeth, but all wendy saw was an eager puppy. eager to prove. eager to please. 

“ you don’t know how to behave. “     it was a blunt remark, playing into the motherly act he’d thrown at her mockingly. wendy had earnestly done her best to be a good caretaker for these lost boys ( as she had once before with the first boys ) but no amount of nurturing or affectionate could win them over. it seemed they’d outgrown the need for a mother.     “ do you remember what happens to naughty boys who don’t behave in the ‘other place’ ? they’re forced to take medicine. it’s sickly sweet yet vile all at once. a sticky stuff that clings to your tongue and clogs in your throat. “

“ but the worst part ? the naughtier a boy is, the worse it makes him; he’ll be sick, weak, bedridden. good boys, however, grow big and healthy from even the littlest bit ! peter takes his medicine, it’s how he stays so strong. i’d offer you some—to drink before battle—but i fear it’d do you no good. “

[banditnate]

He doesn’t like that change in her expression. Not. One. Bit. 

SHE’s smirking up at him like SHE’s got the upper hand, like SHE’s the bigger person--like SHE knows something he doesn’t. Clearly there’s been a misunderstanding; SHE is not the feline in this cat-and-mouse situation. No, SHE is the mouse; SHE should be scared of him.

He wants more than anything in that moment to wipe that haughty smirk off her so-very-punch-able face, but Peter would never forgive him if he harmed the current prized Girl before him--whatever number she was in the lineup.

An eyeroll escapes him at her remark. How predictable. Could she get anymore BORING? Why was she even here? 

Despite his better judgment, his ears perk up at the mention of Peter. Of growing stronger. Of being more useful. 

“You’re lying,” he snaps, eyes narrowed. He knows better than to trust her--and yet, a nugget of doubt is unearthed in his mind, and he quickly averts his gaze. He doesn’t remember taking medicine in the Other Place, but then again, he doesn’t remember much of it at all. The worst of the mental scars still remained, so surely, if it was that bad, he would remember it, no? 

His lips press together in a tight grimace, the weight of conflict clear on his countenance. She does know more about this “mom” stuff than him, and strategically, it would be wise of her assist him in Battles to get him on her side (as opposed to one of the useless runts like Sawyer).  

Decision made, he holds out his hand to her, wiggling his finger expectantly. “Give it here,” he demands. “It’ll do me just fine.”

[ifyouwaltzwiththewildthings]

Dear Nate, a regular of Fletcher's craft. One of the few Lost Boys Fletcher is fully comfortable approaching. It was always a bit of a risk with the other ones, one way or another... But it's clear to them Nate wouldn't serve to be cruel to them, or harm them, nothing like that. They flutter their wings and let off a little ring - a pleasant greeting.

" Ah, " they close the distance between them and Nate's bow, looking over it with a glint in their eye as they analyse every little detail, small hands feeling the wearing wood. " Unfortunately the higher tide tonight is hiding most of the ocean's goodies... But if you come back tomorrow, once it lowers, you're sure to find a lot of seaweed washed up. " They hum.

" The wood on this bow is... " Their face goes through a couple of expressions as they think. " You won't get much more usage out of this one, new string or not. " Dainty fingers trace the lines in the old wood, feeling how tired it is. " Perhaps I can get started on a new one for you, and by the time this one is done, it will be ready! " The idea clearly excites them a little. " I can get started very soon. Especially... If you have anything to trade? " A mischievous little jingle matches their cheeky smile.

[banditnate]

A knowing smirk grew on Bandit's lips. Living on an island that was in a constant stage of change, it was nice to know that some things remained the same. Fletchers was one of those things. There was some reassurance to be had, knowing there wasn't a surprise waiting for him.

"I knew you'd say that."

He reached into the small pouch that dangled from his belt and pulled out a little wooden mushroom--one of his whittling projects. It was no bigger than his hand; it had been made for Fletcher in mind. He'd been proud of it at first--but now that he was showing it to him, he was starting to second-guess himself. He rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand.

"It's yours..." he said. "...if you want it."

[banditnate]

Bramble Rose uses basically her entire body to push a mug full of chamomile and blueberry tea. Yes, it took entirely too long for her to haul said mug from the Jolly Rodger while the pirates were asleep and yes she hated every second of it. This is what she gets for starting to care about too many Giants… But Nate clearly has the shivers and it is making her chest twist up in ways she hates more.

“Will you just drink the damn thing, please? You’ve been shaking all night and the last thing you need is a fever, Foxglove.”

Bandit taps his foot rhythmically against an overgrown tree root from his spot on the ground, anything to distract himself from the pulsing pain in the side of his neck. He really should be showing more appreciation for her kindness. Bramble has done more for him today alone than his father did for the entirety of his youth, and she isn't even obligated by blood or birth. And yet, for some reason, her face is twisted with worry. It makes his insides feel tangled in a way he can't describe. He doesn't like it.

"...I'm fine."

She looks unconvinced.

Bandit grunts and he pushes himself up a little straighter to prove it, letting out a hiss when he puts pressure on his torn-up hand. If any of these injuries even remotely mess him up for the next Battle, he WILL hunt Carrion down the next time he sees her. That much is for certain. He'll just catch her by surprise, where there aren't any trees, or vines, or .... blood .... or.... teeth, or--

A wave of nausea washes over him, and he swallows down a rush of hot bile with a cough.

--Okay, so maybe his revenge plan will have to wait.

"Really, it's not bad," he says, looking up at her. "I've had worse." It doesn't reassure her as it's intended. In fact, he thinks Bramble might even look more concerned.

With a sigh, Bandit leans over and grabs the offered mug. It looks like it's made from blown glass. He traces the design with his fingertips, relishing silently at the warmth permeating his palms and the smooth texture beneath his skin.

The boy lets out a deep breath before taking a slow drink of the tea, then another, tension falling gradually from his shoulders with each passing sip. The two of them share a short, soothing silence, until he's the one to break it:

"Thanks, Bram." He shoots her a small, pained smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I guess I needed that after all."

[banditnate]

you're such a good friend.

Wow. No one's ever told him that before. He's amicable with a select few on the island, but their relationships have never been stated so openly as fact. Huh. A feeling of surprise flutters in his stomach, a tentative smile growing on his lips. "Your secret is safe with me," he says, beaming at his Friend. "But someday you've got to show me what you look like as a dragon. Deal?"

[banditnate]

He watches with narrowed eyes as Carrion studies the deceased rabbit with great reverence, holding the skull in her tiny hands like it's something precious. How DARE she give that limp, lifeless animal more respect than she's ever given him—and after all he does for her! To survive her endless barrage of mundane tasks with no chance of reward, all the while withstanding her pendulum of mood swings as she bosses him around, and yet she caresses this chunk of bone like it’s a PRIZE she has won? Despicable. If he truly desires a mother figure to NAG him, he can go find Miss Wendy Darling--she, at least, is less exhausting to put up with. For someone of such small stature, this old hag is far too demanding.

Bandit glares at the pile of flesh and bone from his spot on the ground, resting an elbow on his bent knee comfortably. A mutter escapes him.

"Crazy old bitch."

No more than a half-hearted grumble under his breath. If by the off-chance she heard him, she’d probably admonish him like usual, perhaps nip at his arm—leaving no more than a little red dot as a souvenir.

What he doesn’t expect is for her to disappear entirely, to flee into the trees without a word. He frowns. Where did she go? Carrion never suffers in silence. In fact, there wasn’t a moment that Bandit could remember not being subjected to her lectures. Something is wrong.

His train of thought breaks by a tap on his arm--a pinecone. Then, a few more pinecones. He looks up, brows furrowed at the sudden pinecone-precipitation, only to find that the trees are rising out of the earth. Thick trees creak and groan against a mysterious force until the roots hit their limit, snapping loudly as the trunks are impossibly yanked from their anchored homes. The flickering shadows on the ground jerk wildly in the windstorm, a flurry of debris, pine needles and twigs swiftly dropping to the ground--some just barely missing him in their fall.

Carrion's voice echoes around him--ah, so she's returned. She likes to play this trick on him from time to time, to speak loudly and circle him like prey as she speaks to him. If it makes her feel bigger, even remotely intimidating, it makes no difference to him. Given the lack of threat in her small stature, there was nothing truly to fear. But this time...

This time, her voice BOOMS throughout the expansive forest. It must be coming from something larger than herself. Surely someone of her size could not produce something that powerful? Her face--oft-composed and refined-- twists into something ugly that he's never seen before, and utterly enraged. These are not just empty threats, he thinks. No, there's something particularly unsettling about the glare in her eyes this time, the sinister upturn of her lips. But he can't focus on that for long--

--Something white and red flashes in the corner of his vision. His gaze snaps up to see THE CORPSE OF THE DEAD RABBIT rushing at him with vehement speed, unperturbed by the gale winds shuttering through the branches. His stomach drops. It's not stopping, he realizes. It's coming straight for him, with all the speed and force of something incredibly alive.

Bandit pushes against the forceful wind in an attempt to stand up, but it's no use. He turns his torso, shutting his eyes tightly with his arms crossed over his chest.

A surprised yelp escapes him, but it's not from impact. He doesn't feel the cushioned blow of fur and fluff, but rather a sharp BITE at his neck. Pointed teeth sink into his skin, ripping off the flesh, and he hisses in pain. There's a rustling sound, and glances up to see he's being circled, the dead rabbit and the uprooted trees surrounding him in a terrifying orbit. NOW he feels like the prey, hunted on a haunted merry-go-round, faster and faster with no exit sign. The rabbit's head separates from its mangled body with a terrifying squelching sound, and Nate can't tear his eyes away from the monstrosity. Its torso moves like a marionette, with jerky, sharp movements from its limbs, while the head continues its taunting revolve, keeping his gaze until he starts to feel dizzy. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly. Is he dreaming? Did he fall asleep? Please wake up, he begs. Please wake up.

A sharp object SCRAPES down his arm; a chalkboard for Carrion's jagged nails. Something wraps painfully tight around his ankle, holding him in place as he squirms. It's a vine, quicker and greener and more sentient than he's ever seen before. He wants to reach around for his dagger, but a sudden CRUNCH into his elbow stops him. A startled shout escapes him, and he clutches his marred elbow to his chest, blood dripping over his fingers as he cradles it with the opposite hand. He cracks open his eyes, barely squinting-- as though seeing less of it made it less real.

What little he sees makes him gasp. His eyes shoot open at the sight of Carrion's new form--IS it her? It doesn't even look like her. Her normally-tame dark locks are wild and golden. Her composure has entirely resolved, making way for this feral being he never knew existed. What must be HIS blood and HIS skin is dribbling from her red-stained lips. She shakes her head violently like a rabid hound, pieces of ripped skin flapping and spattering her cheeks with dots of red . His stomach rolls, and he presses his fist to his mouth, puffing out his cheeks. I think I'm gonna be sick..

High-pitched giggling reverberates through the trees and the expansive forest suddenly feels like it's caving in on him. The giggling turns into roaring, pelting him with words he can't understand. His own heartbeat drums in his ears, blocking out the noises surrounding him as the vine tightens against his ankle. He frantically tries to yank his leg free, releasing his nursed elbow to try and pry it off. But no matter how deep he digs his nails into the juicy green flesh, it doesn't loosen its grip, and--

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

His heart stops.

Something knocks at the back of his skull, like a door. It prods unsettlingly in the soft dip at his nape where bone meets flesh. A shiver rolls down his spine. He wants to jerk his head back, to push it away, anything--but he can't move. He feels slow fingers trace the veins in his forearms. They ghost over his trembling knuckles like a lover. He swallows hard, pinching his lips shut. The sound of his heartbeat thrashes in his ears, vibrating in his head. Is this how that rabbit felt? Was that how HE was going to feel soon? He closes his eyes, unable to do anything else. Am I going to die?

A pressure against his eyelids make his stomach roll in dread, and his eyes fly open--seemingly of their own accord. Is she going to poke his eyeballs out? Is she literally going to rip him apart limb from limb? And for what? He wants to squeeze his eyes shut, but he can't. He can't even blink. All he can do is watch.

Time stops as his hands turn themselves over, palms-up, fingers clenching and straightening experimentally. They grip tightly into fists, only to release the grasped air a moment later. He feels frozen in time. The only thing he's sure of is that this isn't a dream. Even in the worst of his nightmares, his brain would never torture him. Not like this.

Eventually, the spell breaks. He's not sure how long he stays like that, half-puppet and half-man; a human shell. All around him, things fall back into place. The vines unravel themselves from his limbs, shrinking and slithering away like garden snakes. The trees float back to their rooted homes. The dead rabbit stops its haunting dance and resumes its still, imobile position on the ground. The wind dies down, the high afternoon sun rising over the leaves. Everything seems to be as it was, how they should be.

The boy gasps for air, breathing rapidly as he crumples forward, propped up on his sweaty palms and shaking knees. His heart is pounding. It feels like it's going to beat forcefully out of his chest, pulse through his sternum and right into Carrion's mouth. Is that possible? Can she do that?

He digs frantically at the dirt beneath him, relishing in the feeling of hard pebbles against his palm, the connection between his body and his brain, the function of his very own limbs restored--HIS palms and HIS fingers working under his control as they always had. His chest heaves up and down, taking quick shallow breaths in between heavy pants. He's real. He's still here.

A soft, regal voice catches his attention, and he cracks open his eyes; slow, unsure. They burn with fear, tears prickling at the corner of his eyelids as he searches her face for answers. He never knew she would do this--could do this. Were all smallfolk capable of such things?

His lips part at her question, but no sound passes through them. He can't find the air for words. She's staring at him with a knowing, pompous stare, and he gulps down enough oxygen to push out a single word.

"N-no."

He can't feel self-conscious about the way his voice trembles; he can't think anything at all.

She's still staring at him and he doesn't know what to do. He'll say whatever she wants, do whatever she needs, as long as she doesn't ever do that again.

He shakes his head vehemently and swallows hard. A few quick breaths and he whispers, words carried by the gentle spring breeze.

"No, Carrion--Ma'am."

continuation of this meme for @crimsonbathed

[highbcltage-blog]

why should i resolve things peacefully when i can fucking punch you in the face

[reapdheir]

— BANDIT !

“ memories of his old life drifted away, fragments rewritten with distance.

it wasn’t long before the only pieces of his past life were the ones better left forgotten . . .

after all, this was where he belonged. the lost boys were his home. “

penned by SAM.

[aboutmusicandbands]

[tristan-najjar]

Tristan flinched at the reply; he turns over fast, eyes wide and startled, and breaks out into a small smile as he makes out the faint shape of a person in -- there's a cave there?

"Hello," he says quietly. Neverland is such a bizarre place; frankly, it was silly of him to assume he was ever alone. He adapts fast, turning and pointing a bit.

"Right there, see it?" His voice is fairly soft and gentle. "It's... what, eight or nine stars, speckled by others around it..." He laughs a bit, at himself. "It looks like a star, right?" He turns back over to the boy, watching him curiously.

Who is he? What is he doing here?

[banditnate]

The man seemed shocked by his response--or that he even gave a response at all. Truly he wasn't expecting Bandit to ignore him? Or perhaps he was simply talking to the sky, expecting any answer would be swallowed by the vastness surrounding them. It then occurred to Bandit that it was possible the man never even knew of his presence until he spoke, and he cursed under his breath for being so gullible.

Still, he couldn't hide his curiosity. A few tentative steps forward brought him closer to the stranger, leaving behind impressions of bare feet in the cool, evening sand. The man was shorter than him, with the low, sloping shoulders of a woman; surely he would never last in a Battle. Even if the man discarded his calm, friendly facade for something more threatening, Bandit was positive he could defeat him easily.

It was hard to get a good look at the sky without taking his eyes off the unfamiliar foe. This could be a trap, after all. What if this man was merely a distraction, getting Bandit into a false sense of security so a pirate could strike from behind ? The boy crossed his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes at the unfamiliar man. What was he getting at? Just what was his angle?

He moved his squinting gaze to the sky above--if only for a brief moment, allowing himself one brief check. The sky was so much clearer here on Neverland, unobscured by the smoke and smog that had plagued his hometown's air (what was that place called again?). Not a star went unaccounted for, every ball of fire in the distance clearly in view. If he looked closely, he could almost pretend that the little lights in the sky formed a larger entity, a five-pointed star bigger than the island itself.

"Huh," he murmured, glancing back over at the man, the usual crinkle in his forehead smoothed over in a renewed sense of calm. "I guess you're right. They do kind of make a monster star. "

[banditnate]

“ you wanna know what your problem is? ”  

A bark of laughter escapes him. To think that someone so weak--and so new--could tell him what to do.

"Oh, I'd love to." His lips curl upward, eyes sparkling with superiority as they lock onto hers--gray on blue; a wave of fog overtaking the sea.

He leans in, thrusting out his chest in an unspoken challenge. She has the sharpest bite out of any of the Boys on the island, but standing over her like this, she feels no more a threat to him than Pacifist Sawyer or that good-for-nothing Curly.

"Enlighten me, Mother," he taunts, raising a slow, deliberate eyebrow. "What is my problem?"

question prompts || accepting

[mcflymemes]

THE INVISIBLE LIFE OF ADDIE LARUE PROMPTS *  assorted quotes from the book by v.e. schwab

books are a way to live a thousand lives, or to find strength in a very long one.

i simply want to be the one who breaks you.

this is how you walk to the end of the world.

dine with me.

was it real to you?

we can't help who we fall in love with.

the more you study, the less you believe in any of it.

time moves so fast.

you are not capable of love.

life always ends too soon.

in the end, everyone wants to be remembered.

were the instants of joy worth the stretches of sorrow?

i didn't think we were serious.

you have no desire to practice.

if you loved me, you would have let me go by now.

you don't know what you'll find until you step outside.

this is how you live forever.

the vexing thing about time is that it's never enough.

how can a thing not be real if it cannot be remembered?

stories are a way to preserve one's self.

love is hungry. love is selfish.

i loved that about them.

everyone else is a mile down the road.

what is a person, if not the marks they leave behind?

i remember you.

take your echoes and pretend they are a voice.

you're such a good friend.

it's easy to stay on the path when the road is straight and the steps are numbered.

i do not want to belong to someone else.

do not mistake this kindness.

take my life when i'm done with it.

time always ends a second before you're ready.

being forgotten is a bit like going mad.

dance with me.

tell me. was any of it real?

you better live a good life.

i just don't see us ending up together.

march is such a fickle month.

it does not seem such a bad word.

i was the night itself.

i am so tired of not having choices.

humans are so ill-equipped for peace.

what could i have done?

you've gotten lost.

cling to every moment until it's gone.

it's not you.

you deserve better.

it's just a storm.

you can have my soul when i don't want it anymore.

i do not want to belong to anyone but myself.

i am stronger than your god and older than your devil.

they say people are like snowflakes, each one unique.

nothing is all good or all bad.

you cannot leave a mark.

i would have lost my mind.

take a drink every time you hear you're not enough.

there is defiance in being a dreamer.

life can feel very long sometimes, but in the end, it goes so fast.

i don't want to lose you.

i set the pieces, and i choose when to play.

we're not on the same page.

blink, and the years fall away like leaves.

life is so much messier than that.

the greatest danger in change is letting the new replace the old.

it's amazing what you can learn when you have the time.

there's just something missing.

be with me.

never pray to the gods that answer after dark.

were the moments of beauty worth the year of pain?

let's stay friends.

i met someone.

it was just so... permanent.

you didn't come.

live long enough, and you learn how to read a person.

if you only walk in other people's steps, you cannot make your own way.

listen to me.

you didn't call.

[goodnightmemes]

SUPERNATURAL SENTENCE STARTERS / SEASONS 4 - 5

❛ What’s the matter? You don’t think you deserve to be saved? ❜

❛ You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in. ❜

❛ Destiny can’t be changed. All roads lead to the same destination. ❜

❛ I have questions. I have doubts. I don’t know what is right and what is wrong anymore. ❜

❛ The only reason you’re still alive is because you’ve been useful. But the moment that ceases to be true, the second you become more trouble than you’re worth, one word, one, and I will turn you to dust. ❜

❛ Who do I have to kill to get some French fries around here? ❜

❛ How I feel, this… inside me, I wish I couldn’t feel anything. I wish I couldn’t feel a damn thing. ❜

❛ We’re all scared. That’s the big secret… We’re all scared. ❜

❛ If you think you have good intentions, think again. ❜

❛ It’s not blame that falls on you. It’s fate. ❜

❛ I’m tired of burying friends. ❜

❛ You ask me to open that door and walk through it…? You will not like what walks back out. ❜

❛ I’m sorry. This is a very serious, very emotional situation for you. I shouldn’t laugh. It’s just that, I mean, are they serious? They sent you to torture me? ❜

❛ Oh, you’ll spill your guts, one way or the other. I just didn’t want to ruin my shoes. ❜

❛ Most folks live and die without moving anything more than the dirt it takes to bury them. You get to change things. Save people. ❜

❛ I can’t see your face, but those are definitely your brooding and pensive shoulders. ❜

❛ You promised me my family would be okay! You promised you were gonna take care of them! ❜

❛ I gave you everything you asked me to give. I gave you more. This is the thanks I get? This is what you do? ❜

❛ Now for the punch line. Everybody dies. ❜

❛ Now I’m asking you, for once, trust me. ❜

❛ Maybe you’re right. Maybe there’s, no escape. After all, how can you run from what’s inside you? ❜

❛ You don’t know me. You never did. And you never will. ❜

❛ Well, boo hoo! I am so sorry your feelings are hurt, princess! ❜

❛ Are you under the impression that family’s supposed to make you feel good, make you an apple pie, maybe? They’re supposed to make you miserable! That’s why they’re family! ❜

❛ We’ve been through much together, you and I. And I just wanted… to say, I’m sorry it ended like this. ❜

❛ What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here! ❜

❛ No more crap about being a good soldier, there is a right and there is a wrong here, and you know it! ❜

❛ If there is anything worth dying for, this is it. ❜

❛ Well, can’t make an omelet without cracking a few eggs. In this case, truckloads of eggs, but you get the picture. ❜

❛ Oh God. Is that a molar? I have a molar in my hair? This has been a really stressful day. ❜

❛ I’ve got no idea, but what I do have is a GED and a give-em hell attitude, and I’ll figure it out. ❜

❛ I’m hunted, I rebelled, and I did it, all of it, for you, and you failed. ❜

❛ I lost everything… for nothing. ❜

❛ You feel bad now? Wait ‘till you’re thigh-deep in warm corpses. ‘Cause my friend, I’m just getting started. ❜

❛ We’ve talked about this. Personal space? ❜

❛ I was dead from the moment we said hello. ❜

❛ Don’t you get it? You can’t run from yourself. ❜

❛ Same song, different verse. Things are never gonna change with you. Ever. ❜

❛ My heart breaks for you. The weight on your shoulders, what you’ve done, what you still have to do. It is more than anyone could bear. ❜

❛ You’re not fooling me, you know that? With this sympathy for the Devil crap? I know what you are. ❜

❛ Whatever you do, you will always end up here. No matter what choices you make, whatever details you alter, we will always end up…here. ❜

❛ Maybe we are each other’s Achilles’ Heel. Maybe they’ll find a way to use us against each other, I don’t know. I just know we’re all we’ve got. ❜

❛ You can do the right thing. You’ve got choices. But if you make the wrong ones, it’ll haunt you for the rest of your life. ❜

❛ I have to believe someone can make the right choice, even if I couldn’t. ❜

❛ You know, I’m starting to get why parents lie to their kids. You want them to believe that the worst thing out there is mixing Pop Rocks and Coke - protect them from the real evil. You want them going to bed feeling safe. If that means lying to them, so be it. ❜

❛ I wish this were a TV show. Easy answers, endings wrapped up in a bow. But this is real. And it’s gonna end bloody for all of us. That’s just how it’s gotta be. ❜

❛ Now listen very closely. Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna suck it up, accept your responsibilities, and play the roles that destiny has chosen for you! ❜

❛ Are you giving me the ‘Last Night on Earth’ speech? ❜

❛ What a peculiar thing you are. ❜

❛ I still love him. But I am going to kill him because it is right and I have to. ❜

❛ Think of the million random choices that you make, and yet how each and every one of them brings you closer to your destiny. Do you know why that is? Because it’s not random. It’s not chance. It’s a plan that is playing itself out perfectly. Free will’s an illusion. ❜

❛ I can see how broken you are, how defeated; you can’t win and you know it, but you just keep fighting, just keep going through the motions. You’re not hungry, because inside, you’re already dead. ❜

❛ We’re supposed to be a team, it’s supposed to be you and me against the world, right? ❜

❛ Not for nothing, but the last person who looked at me like that… I got laid. ❜

❛ Well, we’re working on the power of love. ❜

❛ I love you, but you are a great big bag of dicks. ❜

❛ No one gives us the right. We take it. ❜

❛ If anyone gets to end this world, it’s me. ❜

❛ Before we get down to brass tacks, some ground rules: No slaughtering each other, curb your wrath. Oh, and keep your hands off the local virgins. We’re trying to keep a low profile here. ❜

❛ Get the hell off my property before I blast you so full of rock salt, you crap margaritas. ❜

❛ I don’t understand your definition of good news. ❜

❛ You are not the burnt and broken shell of a man that I believed you to be. ❜

❛ You have an inflated sense of your importance. ❜

❛ To a thing like me, a thing like you, well… Think how you’d feel if a bacterium sat at your table and started to get snarky. ❜

❛ I’m old. Very old. So, I invite you to contemplate how insignificant I find you. ❜

❛ However you feel now, it’s only gonna get so very, very much worse… questions? ❜

❛ I suggest we imbibe copious quantities of alcohol. ❜

❛ You’re not a kid anymore, and I can’t keep treating you like one. Maybe I gotta grow up a little, too. ❜

❛ Come on, I’ve never lied to you, you could at least pay me the same respect. ❜

❛ We’re going to kill each other. And for what? We don’t even know the answer. Let’s just walk off the chessboard. ❜

❛ What would you rather have: peace or freedom? ❜

[banditnate]

"You wanted to come here and be ώɨℓď.

ᴡɪᴛɴᴇss what you have become.

MURDERER.

Liar.

L҉O҉S҉T҉ ҉B҉O҉Y҉."

- Carrion (@crimsonbathed )

[banditnate]

Bandit laid in wait, hiding within pockets of dark shadow created from the algae-stained boulders of the cove. His watchful eyes remained on the Jolly Roger as they scanned for activity aboard the ship. The vessel had long since docked for the evening, as nightfall had found Neverland hours ago, and finally it seemed that the last of the crew were retreating to the safety of their quarters--at least, all except for one.

Who is THAT? He peered closer, leaning forward against the rough wall of rock and squinting at the unfamiliar form standing on the ship's deck. Bandit been aboard the ship plenty of times--between raids with the other Boys and sneaking on for other, personal thieving pursuits--and never once had he seen the lanky lad aboard. A new recruit, perhaps? The boy had a youthful--almost laughably cherubic--face, and gangly limbs that had seemed to have outgrown his torso. It was too far away to be sure--the boy was facing the ocean, his back to Bandit--but what kind of fool stared out into the ocean when the true danger awaited on land? There was no way this kid could be the one trusted on watch duty, truly? Out of all the candidates, surely there was a better option. Was this some sort of joke? Were the pirates testing him? He snorted. Typical, he thought. Not to mention stupid. Grown-ups always took advantage of the youth; they would come to regret it--if they ever found out here was here.

Leaving the cover of his hiding place, Bandit quietly snuck around the rock formation, the shadowed cloak of night surrounded him as crossed the distance to the shore. His trip was quick and silent, the soft sand beneath his bare feet smothering any potential noise.

Unfortunately, the pirates never made climbing aboard easy. What a shame that they hadn’t left the gangplank out for him! No matter; this was just the sort of challenge he needed to wake up his body and mind, to free him from the depths of emptiness that plagued him most nights.

With practiced hands, he felt blindly at the quiver on his back and pulled out an arrow with a length of hemp rope tied to its end.

Easy does it.

Prepping the arrow, he let out a slow breath, relaxing into the stance as he maintained tension on the bowstring.

Ready ...

…aim …

...FIRE!!

The arrow whizzed through the air, flying behind the lip of the ship and disappearing out of sight. The archer grabbed at the hemp rope with both hands, testing it with two sharp tugs.

Good enough.

-- Not that he exactly cared, really. Or did he? He gave a wary glance to the ocean at his side, waves lapping at his ankles; a tiny taste before swallowing him whole. So what if he fell in? So what if he drowned? Let it try and take him.

Taking a deep breath, he balanced his weight on the slippery rudder and began to hoist himself up the braided rope. He yanked himself upward bit by bit, releasing the rope when the top was within reach, grasping the edge with one hand and then the other. With gritted teeth, he pulled himself over the upper lip, arms aching.

When his feet touched the rough wood of the deck, he let out a relieved sigh, letting the whole of his weight lean against the railing. After a test like that, he would surely succeed in the next Battle with ease.

From here, Bandit knew exactly where he wanted to explore. And yet...

Perhaps it was curiosity, or mind-numbing loneliness, but instead of turning to cabins below deck, he made a new plan. Padding across the planks, arched-footed and light on his toes, he made his way over to the boy who stood at the stern watching the sea.

"Psst," he whispered in greeting, wishing not to startle him. "Hey, kid. What're you doing here?"

closed starter for @charliehearted

[banditnate]

“ what did you want to tell me? ”  

"Just wanted to give you this."

Bandit glances around before pulling out a familiar, ornate KNIFE. The bronze-gilt blade glistens orange in the low rays of the setting sun.

"I found it on the ground near the lagoon." His face is blank--in well-practiced stone--but his eyes are sharp as he gives Peter a knowing stare. "Figured you might want it back."

Deft fingers twirl the smooth wooden handle before he extends it to the other boy, corners of his mouth twitching upward. "Though, if you don't...I have been eyeing it for awhile."