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come away to neverland...yes, yes, it is me, peter pan, don't all cheer at once. actually, let's all cheer on the count of three, one, two, WAHOOOOO! would you like and adventure now, or shall we have our tea first?

[leaderoflostboys]

in dreams || open

Asleep on a hanging hammock of vines, Peter flinched in his sleep. It was the same dream that cropped up regularly over the years. He was flying over a stretch of water, touching the leaves and branches of rowan, cherry, and birch trees, the copse diverse and familiar. It was dark, and the only sounds were the wind and the occasional chatter of crows and the faint music of fairies having a party. He soared above the dark water, and veered off towards the brick of the city. There it was silent and still. A window was open and he tucked in through the opening, lighting quietly on the plush carpet. He stepped carefully into the black room, eyes adjusting in the dark. A small shape took form; a cradle. Peter crept over to it, but just as he was about to peer into it, someone shouted at him, and a small form jumped out from it, chasing him to the window.

"You can't be here! You're much too big! Get out! Get out! Get out!" It was an ugly little thing, with sharp teeth and a cruel face that corralled him back to the open window.

"But this is my home! This is my nursery!" Peter retorted, hands on the window. The bedroom door opened, and the shadow of a tall woman wafted in, her skirts hardly skimming the floor. "Mother?" He started, but cowered as she stretched her hands out to him in a menacing way.

"I have a new baby, what are you? You are not my baby." She continued towards him, but as the moonlight hit her skin, he saw she had no face at all. "Get out! You're much too big! You're not my baby!" Peter tripped backwards out of the opening, but the wind did not carry him. He fell and fell and fell, and no matter what he did, it did not stop.

"But I don't want to grow up!" He shouted, jolting awake, legs tangled in the vines, his skin slick with sweat. His heart pounded, breathing ragged as though he had been screaming. Peter relaxed into the vines and reached up to discover tears on his cheek. He shook himself, swiping away the evidence of his pain, and worked at untangling his feet from the viney ropes.

[leaderoflostboys]

charlieslost​:

Charlie looked quickly up at the sound of a voice. So much time apart from the lost boys and she appeared to have forgotten how easy it was to sneak up on someone from the air. At least Peter was in an amiable mood. She smiled at him softly, waved far too casually for how she felt. “Hello Peter.” Charlie searched for recognition in his face. She’d spent years acting like she didn’t care anymore, it was disappointing how easily the facade dropped away in his presence once again. 

Peter lowered himself to the forest floor, and wrinkled his nose in a smile when he spotted the girl. He couldn’t place her, but she seemed to know him, and fondly so. Quite right, he thought, a grin spreading across his face. Pan crossed his arms over his chest, and surveyed her. “You look very clean; did I miss bath day?” He asked, laughing down at his scuffed and mud encrusted toes. 

[leaderoflostboys]

fitz-patrick​:

Fitz watched Peter, amused, and straightened with a little bit of pride when he called him his friend. From the moment they met, Peter was never wary of him, never treated him like a spooked horse. Even Fitz was human, and, deep down, he wanted friends, even though he would never admit that aloud. “Work?” he questioned. He rolled his eyes and snorted. “That’s an understatement. It’s bad enough we allied with the pirates for any period of time, but to not even kill them when it was all done? They’ll think we’ve gone soft.” Not that Fitz cared that much what they thought of him; they would learn that they were wrong when they wandered too far from the ship. “Are we going to keep the peace?” he asked. If Peter wanted the truce to continue, Fitz would deny himself the pleasure of killing them for his sake, but he hoped Peter would say no.

Peter raised a brow at Fitz’ comments about their alliance with the pirates; it had, after all, been Pan’s idea. He decided to let the borderline disrespect fall off, and puffed out his chest. “For the moment,” Peter said, but continued on so as not to disappoint one of his faithful followers. “Until they’re nice and comfortable,” he grinned mischievously. “But we need to work on a plan of attack until then. All that playing nice for no reason,” Peter clicked his tongue against his teeth and shook his head, looking down at his feet for a moment. “Suppose we start small, quiet; I vote stealing their wine. That’ll get them irritated, but they won’t be able to pin it on us right away.”

[leaderoflostboys]

fitz-patrick​:

Fitz sat in the middle of the forest sharpening his various knives. It had been a while since he had had cause to use them properly; during the truce, he had only used his knives for killing and skinning animals, not pirates. But he liked to keep them sharp, just in case. No one knew how long the tentative peace would last, and he would be ready when it inevitably ended. He certainly wouldn’t mind being the one to end it. Things had come to too tidy an end for him, with no great bloodshed or battle. He hadn’t walked away from it coated in the thick, hot blood of his enemies, the rush and excitement of the kill racing through his veins, the jolt of adrenaline that came from surviving. None of the things that Fitz really lived for. None of the things that made him feel alive or important or necessary. He started when he heard Peter’s crow and decided to abandon his isolation, putting his knives back into their various sheaths and walking towards the sound. When he saw Peter, he flashed a rare genuine smile, not the menacing, malicious smile he typically wore, if he smiled at all. It did not last long before his face settled back into its familiar sullen glower, but his voice was light when he said, “There you are.”

Peter gave a bright grin when he saw Fitz approach; here was a Lost Boy that would help with plotting some new fights and pranks with the pirates. “Here I am!” He whooped, taking a final bite of the mango and tossing it to the wayside. He swiped the juice dripping down his chin with the back of his hand and then brushed his sticky hands together. “And we have a lot of work to do, my friend,” he brightened. “What a whole waste of time that ole witch turned out to be, eh?” Peter would bolster the other boys about what a great job they’d all done, but he knew a few of them would’ve seen that their allying with the pirates hadn’t really done them any favors, and he hoped they’d soon be ready to start a new game with the poxy brigands.

[leaderoflostboys]

charlieslost​:

Charlie had revelled in the calm of the island every day since the pirates had told her she no longer had anything to worry about. No more evil witch trying to destroy her easy life. She wandered through the meadow, hand brushing through the wildflowers and into the forest to gather a few bits before heading back. She was plucking an apple from a tree when she heard a sound she’d not heard in years, something that took her right back to her childhood. Her breath halted in her chest and she looked in the direction of the sound. She’d avoided Peter and the lost boys for the most part, only making time for Delia and Fitz, but her feet were moving before she could question whether it was a good idea. 

Peter had thrown the mango pit to the bushes and leaned back again, cracking out another crow to call his boys towards him. His ears perked at the sound of movement approaching and he grinned, floating himself to a low branch and sitting with his legs dangling down. He peered in the direction of the noise, a whip of blond hair moving and he whooped. “Hallo there!” Peter added, unable to see who it was yet.

[leaderoflostboys]

don’t fear the warnings || open

A plump mango in hand, Peter flew idly over the trees. It had been a week since the great fight for Neverland, and although they’d worked together nicely, he couldn’t get over the grimy feeling of being on the same side as Hook, if only for a few days. The old codfish was as greasy as ever, and Pan was anxious for things to get back to normal. Planning a battle was a cure for almost all of life’s problems, and Peter had some good ideas for menacing the pirate captain in future. He’d give them a break for a bit, let them get cozy in the wake of everything that happened, and then he’d strike. Maybe they’d stuff bars of soap into their rum barrels one afternoon; he’d have to make a plan with his lost boys. They deserve a party after all the hard work they’d put in to stopping Helena, he thought to himself, biting into the ripe mango. He lowered himself down to the forest floor, bare feet falling on soft dirt and leaves, and made a beeline for the fort. He took another bite, and then, cheeks full of the fruit chucked his head back and let out a loud cockerel crow to gather any Lost Boys from nearby. 

[leaderoflostboys]

thelostlake​:

Lake grinned at his acceptable, always feeling special when he gave it. She snickering with him at the insults, gasping when he threw away Frank’s skull. It bubbled down, looking sad as he drowned for a second time. She felt a moment of sympathy, before giving Peter a nod. “To Frank! Your jewels will glisten in our hideout for all time.” She didn’t have a drink, but she held up her hand as if she did and was giving a toast to the dead man. “Thanks.” She smiled to herself, slipping the bracelet over her wrist.

Peter also raised an invisible glass in toast, and imagined he was sipping a sparkling champagne. He crinkled his nose at the imaginary taste and pretended to throw his cup away; he could almost hear it shatter against the cave wall. “I prefer red wine,” he commented, sticking his nose into the air pompously. Pan smacked at the chest once more, as if he’d be taking it off its guard by trying again. “Damn,” he muttered, and then leaned back against the ledge. 

[leaderoflostboys]

thelostlake​:

Lake surfaced and swam as best she could with her small haul, setting the items on the edge before sitting up besides Peter. “Gross,” She said with a sputtered laugh, shaking her head at it. She’d heard stories of people getting tied up against the rocks to drown when the tide came in, the cuffs were still there, but she didn’t like to think about that all that much. “Maybe his name was Frank and he liked to wear brooches, but one day he wore so many jewels he fell off the edge and the weight of his jewelled jacket drowned him.” Lake told the story, as she eyed the coin and bracelet she’d pulled out.

Peter frowned thoughtfully at her explanation, nodding as she spoke. “You know,” he started, still nodding, and then looked at the skull. “I think you’re absolutely right,” Pan agreed, suddenly taking it for fact. “I do remember a be-brooched pirate named Frank. Surely the greedy fellow drowned,” he sighed somberly, holding up the skull in his palm now, and put on a very solemn voice. “To Frank,” he stated, pressing his free hand against his heart. “May you have moved on and found peace. And may we find all of your jewels, you greedy, toad-faced pirate,” he added the last bit with a callous laugh, and chucked the skull across the water, where it slowly sank, bubbles coming up as it went down. Peter had also pulled a beaded necklace that looked quite like a native piece of finery, a broken link of a chain, and a piece of coral rock. “Nice,” he nodded to Lake’s finds, dropping the chain and rock back into the water, and the beads next to the chest. 

[leaderoflostboys]

thelostlake​:

Lake watched on hopefully as he worked at the lock with various tactics. It was Peter, she trusted that he was able to do pretty much anything and there was always a slight dwindle in mood when the attempts didn’t pan out. “If not, we could fly it up real high and drop it, it might break it.” But hopefully not break it’s contents. She nodded at the suggestion and jumped in after Peter, floating at the surface to take a bunch of deep breaths before diving down. She swam as fast as she could to the bottom to allow herself more searching time. Palming around in the sand, Lake’s fingers curled around some sort of bobbled chain and gripped it tight, grabbing something circular with her other before swimming back up for air. 

“That’s a good idea!” He agreed, thinking that might be the easiest way to get it open. Pan dove back down into the water, and drove his arms through the sand, grasping for anything that felt less than natural, before kicking back up to the surface. He waded over to the ledge and set everything down onto the rock with a loud splunk, and hoisted himself back up beside the pile. “Spooky,” he chuckled, picking up a water corrupted skull that was missing its bottom jaw. He stuck his fingers through the eye sockets, his fist in the skull, and pointed it towards Lake. “Who do you reckon this was?” Peter laughed. 

[leaderoflostboys]

thelostlake​:

Lake swam up with Peter and watched him worriedly as he coughed and gasped. She’d gone down later, and while she needed the air she hadn’t pushed herself so far as he had. “Are you alright?” Lake asked, reaching out to gently touch his shoulder and check in. She put her hands on the ledge and hoisted herself up, helped by fairy dust, and pushed her hair back out of her face to stop water dripping down over her eyes. “I wonder what’s in that box.” She thought aloud, swinging her feet as she caught her own breath. 

Peter nodded, and then pulled himself up beside her on the ledge, chuckling. “Always!” he beamed, though he was still catching his breath. Pan turned the chest to face him and held up the padlock with a sigh. “Me too,” he commented, pulling his dagger and smacking the lock aggressively with the pommel a few times. He frowned, irritated that it hadn’t worked, and then shoved the tip of the blade into the lock, fiddling around with it for another moment before irritation took over and he slammed the lock back against the chest. “Needs a key,” he grumbled, sheathing his blade. “Maybe we have something back at the camp,” Peter added, more to ease his own anger than to give hope to Lake. “Let’s see what else is down there,” he stated, giving a forced grin, and jumping back into the water.

[leaderoflostboys]

thelostlake​:

Lake laughed at his eagerness, letting go of any upset she had about her rubbish first haul. She took a deep breath before diving down after him, finding it far harder to see with the sand floating around them. Swimming down, she accidentally palmed Peter’s shoulder and adjusted course, swimming down further to find whatever he was pulling at. She grabbed where he was holding and tried to help pull with all her might. 

Together, whatever was in the water seemed to budge, and Peter kicked his feet in a bicycle motion as he strained to pull harder, the air in his lungs burning white hot. With Lake’s help, a large, rectangular shape was pulled from the miry clay, and Peter kicked off the ocean floor with a ferocious intent to get to the air again. He burst through the skin of the water and gasped loudly, hiccoughing water as he moved slowly towards the ledge again.

[dailypankow]

rudy pankow | the bare magazine

[leaderoflostboys]

thelostlake​:

Lake stayed in the water, looking up at his find. “That’s pretty, amethyst do you think?” She questioned the purple gem, not minding if it wasn’t anything fancy really, just that the colour was vivid. She turned her focus back to her own hands, the sand dropping away to reveal a drop earring missing it’s pendant. “Disappointment.” She told him, reaching up and dropping the earring on the ledge beside him. 

Peter shrugged, and watched her drop the broken jewelry beside him. “Oh well, there’s lots to be unearthed down there! Tally-ho!” He shouted, and slumped forward, plopping into the water and diving down deep again, eyes flicking along the floor of the water, where sand had been kicked up floating around from where they’d just pulled treasures. He felt around on the ground, air bursting in his lungs to be let out. There, he found the handle again and began pulling with all of his might, unwilling to resurface until he got this ruddy thing out of the muck.

[leaderoflostboys]

thelostlake​:

Lake held her breath as long as she could, palming through the water, hoping for something incredible to find it’s way into her hands. It felt like she was getting nowhere and her chest was starting to hurt with the need to breathe. She grabbed what she could and swam up after Peter, gasping for breath as she surfaced. She piled everything in one hand and brushed back her wet hair, wiping away the water from her eyes. “How’d you do?” She breathed, eyeing up her pile of sand that was melting between her fingers. 

Peter hoisted himself onto the rock ledge, puffing out air as water dripped from the hair hanging over his forehead. He ran a quick hand through his locks and huffed, looking at the piece he’d pulled from the muck. It was a golden locket in the shape of a heart, holding a purple gem in the center. He swiped the dirt away with his thumb and held it up to the lantern light. “Some sort of necklace,” he replied after a moment. “There was something heavy down there I couldn’t pull from the mud, but I want to go back for it,” he told her, and then looked over at Lake. “What’d you find?”

[leaderoflostboys]

thelostlake​:

Lake nodded her agreement, though she never felt the need for one in the clubhouse. It always felt safe and cozy there. She watched Peter dive, letting out a holler at the grace of it. She ran off the edge and dove, splashing into the water and swam down deeper after him. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the saltwater, but once they did she looked at Peter with a held-breath smile, moving her arms and flapping her feet to take her down to the bottom to search for worthy treasure.

The pressure in his ears the further they dove made Peter clench his jaw together, but gave a watery smile to Lake when she did, bubbles flooding past his teeth. He pushed on, and scanned the ocean floor. It was hard to see; aside from his blurred vision underwater, it was darker down here. He scooped a handful of sand, fingers closing onto something metallic, and then his other hand grabbed onto a handle of something that he couldn’t budge out of the sand. Peter kicked back up to the surface, puffing out air as soon as he hit the air. 

[leaderoflostboys]

thelostlake​:

“It just is sometimes. The shadows can seem like horrible creeping figures and the dripping can sound like something’s right behind you, and it echos like there’s something ominous over you. And the place is a giant skull!” Lake explained, surely she wasn’t the only one that found it slightly scary. She clapped her hands when he managed to get the lantern working, knowing she could always rely on him to make it right. “Amazing!” She copied him, emptying her pockets as well though there was far less there, but it meant that there was more space to carry gems out. “It’s so much less creepy now.” 

Peter shrugged, giving a smug smirk as though it didn’t effect him the same way; as though he hadn’t been crying in fear in his sleep just that morning. “Nightlights make everything better,” he commented, and then stood at the edge of the rock, peering down at the sparkling gems below. “Alright, here goes!” he wriggled his brows at her, and then jumped into the air, hovering slightly as he arched and dove at an angle into the chilly water, making his way down to the treasures below.

[leaderoflostboys]

thelostlake​:

Lake didn’t notice the slip of his tongue, just assumed that he was referring to himself anyway, but she supposed he preferred the title of father for some reason. She followed him in excitedly, and though it was darker inside you could still see the shimmer and sparkle of a few golden items at the floor. She flew down and landed, wiggling her toes in the small pool of water. “This place is so creepy sometimes, and then so fun and exciting the other times.” She commented, tilting her head up at the roof and decided that since she was here with Peter, it was a fun and exciting day.

“Creepy how?” Peter cackled, under the impression that he’d never been scared a day in his life, much less inside Skull Rock. It was perhaps better that his memory wasn’t the greatest; he’d nearly died in here on multiple occasions. “Ah ha-ha!” He exclaimed upon finding a big glass oil lantern, and patted his chest and pockets until he found his flint. Crouching down, Pan scraped the flint against the steel until a spark caught onto the wick, and he turned the little metal key to make the flame bigger. It cast orange light around the dark cave, and he beamed proudly over to Lake. “There, a bit of light to help us search!” He grinned, and began unloading a few possessions from his pockets, including his flint and steel, a scroll of paper, and a dried rabbit foot that he was meaning to give to one of the lost boys that was particularly unlucky.