half a person.

[justordinaryhero]

Herbs were not Hero’s specialty. He knew that, no matter how much he tried to decipher what they all were so that he could do something helpful when the Boys weren’t getting themselves hurt. But it was a pointless attempt. He couldn’t do so much as tell basil from sage, nevermind the more dangerous stuff. He just knelt there by these strange plants, picking a few and making them into a strange bouquet of who-knows-what. Honestly, he wasn’t even trying anymore. He was just looking for an excuse to explore for a little while.

The one plant he was staring at now was just so bizarre looking, he couldn’t possibly figure out what it was. “The hell are you?” he muttered to himself, unaware of the presence within hearing distance.

[missing-half]

          Ash wasn’t the best help, to be perfectly honest. He was smart, but defiant in many things. By no means was he hoping to aid Hero in his meager task of collecting herbs. Rather, Ash was bored and there was little else he could think of doing aside from trailing the other about the trees and wherever else Hero went. Perhaps it was strange that in all the time Ash took to follow his comrade, he had yet to announce himself to the other who seemed so intent on figuring out random plants. Ash stalled this because he wasn’t set on what he wanted to do, if keeping silent and potentially frightening the other was better than passing his time in good company. 

          His twisted mind obviously settled on the former, reasoning that it’d be more fun for them both. The island had been in a lull which Ash did not enjoy, not when he knew which sect on the island had to be dealt with instead of making peace. Everyone had grown so soft since the frail truce was made between all who inhabited the island, all save for Ash who kept his mind buzzing with revenge. The very thought made his insides boil, mood growing dark with each step he took. It got to a point where he slowly forgot what he had been doing in following Hero. As the other spoke in such a tone that Ash mistook to be directed toward him, he gritted his teeth and surged forward, hands balled into fists and words spoken low. “I’ll be the last person you’ll ever see if you don’t shut that damn mouth of yours.”

[flickerinyoureye]

“Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run…”

Sat cross-legged on the ground, Flicker stared intently at her knife as she sharpened it, singing softly to herself. She could only remember the chorus and she wasn’t sure where she knew it from (it was probably a mainland song, she reasoned), but it felt like a charm. One that would coax rabbits out of their burrows so that they could eat.

[missing-half]

          He was definitely not a rabbit, but that did not stop Ash from pulling out from the bushes where he previously had been surveying the vermin, that being the soft-spoken girl settled in the dirt yards away. He smiled, which coming from him was not kind in the slightest. Nor were his words that came afterwards, no matter how endearing they may have been coming from someone else.

          “That’s cute,” he mused, taunting the other as he huffed a laugh. In his dominant hand was a knife of his own, blade glinting from the sunlight it caught. His spare hand toyed with it while waiting for a reply, Ash himself still contemplating on where he wanted to go from here.

[twisty-curly-blog]

Curly had found a stick–a rather nice one, if he had to say so himself–and on his walk home he kept his entire focus on the object at hand. More specifically, carving it into something more useful, perhaps a toy he could play with when it was time to play Dentist. His head may have been stuck in the clouds, for he didn’t even hear the sound of an arrow whizzing until it grazed past his head–nearly chopping off some of his lovely curls, to boot. 

His reaction was…comical, to say the least. Flailing hand movements and a stumble back, before finally settling down to stare at the arrow with disdain. It didn’t occur to him until only after that it had to have come from somewhere, and he tilted his head up, eyes narrowed and a deep frown plastered on his face. “Y’know,” he began, shouting, “if ye wanted t’play hide n seek y’should’ve just asked. No point in bein’ shy,” 

There had to be something said about the fact that Curly’s instant reaction was not fear at a hidden enemy, but frustration at someone getting a head-start in a game. He figured the proximity to the Tree meant that it had to be a Lost Boy, and honestly, he was a bit arrogant in his own ability should it be some unseen foe. Besides, it was much more interesting to assume it was a game. He’d barely done anything exciting all day. There had been so many rule changes over the years, Curly couldn’t exactly remember if this was how the game was always played or if an even newer version had come about, one that he wasn’t yet privy to. He tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for the assailant to make themselves known. “Well? Are ya gonna come out or are y’just gonna cheat?” 

[missing-half]

          Of all who inhabited the island, Curly was one of few who could still make Ash genuinely smile, even when not trying to. Perhaps then it was his reaction that caused a smirk to tug against chapped lips, though it remained lingered with the twin’s sickened sense of humor. After all, he had nearly pegged the other square in the head with an arrow, something most didn’t live through when it settled itself into such an extremity. The other huffed a laugh to keep from exposing himself entirely, enjoying Curly’s tirade of what should have been taken to be insults. Ash took this to the next level in perceiving it to be a challenge. 

          “You’re cheating in having me come out,” he reasoned, though only as much as a Lost Boy could. Ash certainly wasn’t cheating in his mind, and if this were to be a game of hide and seek it made enough sense for Ash to stay hidden. Meanwhile, the teen reached toward his waist where several more arrows waited for purpose within a quiver. Ash took another and aimed it again at Curly, setting the object loose in the other’s direction. This time the arrow landed near the other’s foot. “Come and find me,” Ash continued, hoping Curly would take the bait and provide him with some more entertainment. Eagerness swelled within as he tried to remain quiet, already prepping a third arrow for his target.

[missing-half]

      A few hundred steps (as time had little belonging in the minds of many) south of Hangman’s tree, nestled within the tree canopies that had only began their long journey toward full and green foliage (so long as weather permitted), rested Ash and his own means of entertainment. Habit struck in the form of his chapped lips growing thin with cold eyes fixated on the target below him. He had the mindset to try some new form of bow and arrow that he had developed after much observation of how the Natives hunted. With food as scarce as it was, there were many things that needed dire improvement if his group were to survive, and although survival of the lot of boys wasn’t his primary purpose in setting his mind to the embellishments made on his weapon it certainly didn’t hurt to keep it within reach of thought during moments he became incredibly frustrated. No, the more Ash had to assert his need of the bow, the more worthwhile it seemed for it to be as dangerous as he intended. It required precision, speed, accuracy and well-deserved praise if it were to remain in Ash’s good graces. 

      The boy held his breath as he drew from his quiver and set the arrow beside the bow’s shelf. He bit down on the inside of his cheek as lithe fingers pulled back on the string. Now was the moment where he had to decide what to do from there. The target below seemed unaware of the other’s presence hovering over them. They would have been easy to hit had Ash desired it to be so... still, simplicity was never his calling. This did not change the fact of his need for some sport, however, and upon settling the matter he let the arrow loose. Pride rose within his chest as he saw it fly inches past the other and into a tree a few feet away, that being so close to where he meant to hit. A miss, but it was worthwhile for his hunt to begin.

[lifeofaliceai]

[csordaszsofi]

[brokentoys-rpg]

ASH appears to be SEVENTEEN years old and is currently living at the HANGMAN’S TREE.

“This ain’t Johnny Carson! I’ve got thoughts that ain’t my own–I’m talking black souls dressed in red, and things that I never shoulda known.” listen

ＴＨＥＮ

Ash and Soot, they were called. Before that, they held very different names, ones that hold little meaning to Ash now; unless, of course, he’s thinking of his brother. Ash was the younger of the two, but still managed to receive the brunt of his father’s brutality. Soot had done his best to protect him while they were still children, imploring him to behave a little more appropriately. Ash was the reigning champ of back-talk and getting himself into trouble, more than thought possible for a young boy of his age. 

Soot always held a deep resentment against their parents, always reinforcing to his younger brother that it was the two of them against the world. Eventually it would come to be truer beyond belief: when the boys were nine, their quaint little home caught ablaze, the young boys being the only two survivors.

It was days before Peter had found them. Ash took to Neverland better than his older brother, making friends with whomever he happened to pass by. That was Ash at his purest: clever, witty, endlessly funny and always looking to execute the greatest joke. Soot was much more reserved, always coming in to save Ash from whatever endeavour he had trapped himself in. That was the way it always was: Ash was irresponsible and lively, and Soot watched over him with a careful eye, the parent of the group.

ＮＯＷ

A bitter taste remained in Ash’s mouth. He  realized Peter was very not much the king he claimed to be. Ash was used to misbehaving; it was how he dealt with pain. But as he aged his acts became much more devilish. The more he was hurt the more hurt he began to dole out. He took great pleasure in pushing himself to the brink of death, much to his twin’s dismay.

He was already well on his way to the dark soul he is today, but the loss of his twin—the loss of a part of himself—led to a change so drastic, he could no longer remember the bright soul he once was. Sleep is a deep nuisance to him, given that it mainly plagues him with dark nightmares. Memories of his brother, the image of him being slaughtered…He closed himself off. It was a defense mechanism, sure, but he was more afraid of himself than others. To open up the pain that festered inside of him was his greatest fear. So he remains cold and detached, holding only a handful of friends amongst the Lost Boys.

ＰＥＲＳＯＮＡＬＩＴＹ

✓ Bold, Tactical, Witty ✗ Masochistic, Cynical, Heedless.

ＲＥＬＡＴＩＯＮＳＨＩＰＳ

DAWN - When Dawn appeared, and proved herself to be a worthy adversary, he could not resist tempting her hand. Soot, as usual, rushed to his rescue. The debacle ended with the death of the only family he had left. Just the sight of the little Lost Girl princess makes him see red, he doesn’t really give a damn about any other girl. As rash as he can be, he would rather her demise be slow and painful. 

LOKI - No Lost Boy is quite as devious as the boy they keep locked down on camp. The two are mutually unhinged and always have been - at least, since Peter left, the two have been close friends. Loki has this quality of a ticking time bomb, which simply made him all the more appealing to Ash. 

ＧＩＦ  ＨＵＮＴＳ

One, two, three

ASH is played by ASH STYMEST. Unfortunately, he's CLOSED!

[hairflips]