loyalty

loyalty loiəltē a strong feeling of support or allegiance. Tramp. Human. Rebel

[thenativerebel]

A young man stood between the trees, not that far away, and Kai scolded herself for not noticing him before the deer had alerted her of his presence.  It was foolish to let herself be so immersed in thought that she had not heard another person nearby.  The stranger raised his arms in surrender and reassured her that he meant no harm, but Kai did not lower her weapon.  He did not look like a pirate or a soldier, but she knew better than to let her guard down before she was certain there was no sign of danger.  It was surprising, however, that someone was collecting herbs this far away from civilisation.  The neutral citizens usually lived in the port town, and it seemed unusual that someone would venture this far away from their home just to collect herbs.  Was he a rebel?  Kai could not help but hope, but she was not naïve, and refused to let judgment be clouded by her emotions.

Kai narrowed her eyes, scrutinising him, attempting to somehow learn more about him and his intentions just by soaking in his appearance.  He seemed tired, and there was a wound on his neck, but that was all she could deduce by looking alone.  Kai had never been able to read people the way her mother used to; she had not spent nearly enough time in the company of others to learn such a skill.

“What are you doing so far from the town?” Kai demanded, loosening her grip on the string, but still keeping the arrow nocked, just in case.  It was hard to believe she had been so lucky as to run into a rebel this quickly, especially when she had been worrying about how to find them just moments before.  She hoped his answer would shed some light on what his alliance was.

[tramp-the-rebel]

Tramp noted the her suspicion of him. She seemed on edge. Then again, everyone on the island was at this point. After all the constant death and fighting, it's hard to not be wary of everyone you come across. He understood why she hadn't lowered her weapon. If he were in her situation, he wouldn't have either. It's too difficult to trust people during times like these. But Tramp did not want a weapon aimed at him. "You can lower your weapon," he assured. "I have no intentions of attacking you unless you strike first." 

A small smirk appeared on his lips. "I could ask you the same thing," he said. "After Hook set fire to the Neverwood, he managed to burn a lot of herbs with it. I had to come this far to collect the ones I need." Hook's name tasted bitter in his mouth as it always did. But more so now that he had scorched the place where Tramp had resided for centuries. He could run through those woods with his eyes closed. A combination of all the years he had spent alone before the rebellion and the system of hideouts the rebels had built there allowed him to venture through those woods often. Now they were scarred almost to the point of not being able to be rebuilt. Almost.

"And you?" he questioned. "Why are you so far away from town?" Tramp took his eyes off of her for a brief moment to look at the sea. "Cannibal Cove is a dangerous place, you know. Mermaids are ruthless creatures. They get one look at you and you're their next meal." That was the case most of the time. However, the rebel had managed to walk away from a mermaid unharmed twice in his life. A surprising thing, really. It wasn't often you heard stories about merfolk being kind. But Tramp did know for sure that there was one mermaid who was actually kind to humans. He wondered if that was who the girl was here for. 

[thenativerebel]

Kai was loath to admit it, but she was uncertain about how to find the rebels.  She had never asked Tiger Lily what their location was, not wanting to share her plan of leaving the tribe and joining the Rebellion with anyone, and she doubted the chief’s daughter would have shared such confidential information with her, if she knew in the first place.  Kai walked in the direction of the town for several hours before she stopped, doubt filling her mind.  She hated the uncertainty, and was not used to it.  Even when faced with extremely hard situations, Kai always felt that she knew what she was doing.  Although she did not regret leaving the tribe, she wished she had more information about the rebels, so she at least had a clue of where to start looking. 

It had been centuries since Kai had last visited the town, and she had heard that it was riddled with pirates since Hook’s takeover.  It seemed unlikely that the rebels frequented the area, and if they did, Kai was sure they would do their best to blend in.  Sighing, Kai knelt down next to a large tree, her knees digging into a moist bed of moss.  Cannibal Cove, then?  It seemed unlikely to her that the mermaids would know of the rebels’ location, and even more unlikely that they would tell her if they did.  Kai frowned in frustration.  She had wasted enough time on Neverpeak, attempting to make a difference as a part of Tiger Lily’s group of rebels.  She refused to waste even more just time trying to find the group of people she knew shared her determination to end the destruction of the island and its inhabitants.  But what could she do?  She knew how to track animals, but finding a group of humans and the like who were actively avoiding being found… That was a whole different thing.

Kai was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of something – or someone – nearby.  She stood up and raised her bow, pulling the string back and aiming at the source of the noise, ready to defend herself.  As soon as her eyes focussed on the bush the sound had come from, she recognised the graceful silhouette of a deer, and lowered her weapon.  Kai was about to kneel back down and continue her trail of thought when the deer abruptly darted off in the opposite direction, presumably hearing something approaching before her human ears were able to.  Kai spun around, readying her trusted weapon once again as she scanned the woods for signs of unwanted company. 

[tramp-the-rebel]

It felt like it had been a lifetime since the most recent battle on the island. The forest was still burnt, the rebels were still trying to rebuild their main Hideout, and the wounds were still healing. Both sides took incredibly amounts of damage during the attack on the port town, but Tramp knew well that recovery had to be swift. Rest wouldn't remain for too long. Although he was injured badly himself, the rebels always took priority in his mind. His wounds would be attended to last. They always were. He had become a healer, a hunter, a protector, and most of all a rock for his family to lean on. It was his job to keep them safe and that's exactly what he planned on doing.

Tramp left the area they were stationed for the moment so that he could grab herbs and supplies to tend to the wounded and dying rebels. As always, he remained on his guard, but was not looking for a fight. The mere thought of it caused the near fatal wound on his neck to ache. After gathering most of the supplies he needed, Tramp decided it was time to head back to his family. He neared closer to the edge of the forest to find himself located outside Cannibal Cove. He sighed, knowing he should have been paying more attention to where he had wandered. Being caught in Cannibal Cove was a dangerous thing, seeing as he was as susceptible to the siren song as anyone. And Tramp didn't have his strength to fight off a mermaid.

Before turning back, someone caught his eye. Another human-- a native to be exact-- was knelt down just outside the edge of woods where Tramp was. The rebel considered himself lucky that he'd stumbled upon a native rather than a pirate or Lost Boy. Natives tended to remain neutral, so he saw this girl as no threat. In fact, any Native was a potential ally to him. The more people that joined the rebels, the better their cause would be. But Tramp decided to leave her be and head back to the rebels. Turning away, he accidentally made a noise and knew he had startled her. Looking back at her, she had her weapon raised towards his and he silently swore to himself. His intention was never to cause a confrontation. Tramp put his hands up in surrender and spoke cautiously, "I mean no harm. I was just gathering some herbs. I'll be on my way."

[warbornhq]

Tink allowed Kyra to trot a few paces closer to the woods, concealing them within its shadowy confines as the horse finally came to a gentle stop and the pair realised their exhaustion following the ordeal of having such a drastic wound cauterised. She felt as though she could sleep for a year, and resting against Tramp in the gentle breeze amongst a quietened battle, Tinkerbell feared that she just might. She felt like a small girl, tiny and helpless and looking elsewhere for answers she just couldn’t find within herself. Why must she falter now? The ship rested mere yards away and yet she couldn’t muster up an ounce of strength. All she could do was count her blessings that it had been Tramp who’d found her — her voice of reason, the one she’d come to love more than she’d planned on. “I want him…  gone.” She whispered, swallowing hard on the pain that shuddered through every inch of her weakened body. “He’s taken everything from me.” Tink looked up at him, as if realising it for the first time, as if she hadn’t mulled those words over and over obsessively in her putrid brain these passing centuries. “Everything.”

The tiniest of smiles touched her lips, something tender, full of love she was unsure she knew how to feel any longer. He had hid himself inside of her, curled up somewhere between her lungs and remained unmoving. He sat in her, he remained the only brightness amongst her decaying insides, her blackened lungs and her mouldy heart. Decomposing internally, slowly, yet he remained. Blooming like daisies. Tink was a truly sickening, disgrace of a human being, but Tramp kept her somewhat light. “We’ve both done a lot for each other. We need each other.” A smile spread over her lips, something genuine and false all at once. Tink had forgotten, long ago, how to smile with authentic compassion. Her eyes fluttered shut as his fingers ran over the cool surface of her cheek, hand reaching up to meet with his.

[tramp-the-rebel]

With the night surrounding them, the adrenaline and the strength Tramp had was beginning to subside as the pain of his own wounds and the emotional exhaustion from the battle and Tink's suffering made themselves known. He wanted to go home. He wanted to take Tink back to the Hideout, shield them from the outside world, and fall into a sleep neither wanted but desperately needed. But as Tramp looked into the distant forest where flames still blazed, he knew their home had been burned to the ground. The two had nowhere to go that was close or as comforting as destroyed abode. His eyes returned to Tink when he heard her weak voice. "As do I," he answered. "And he will be soon enough." Tramp nodded. "Then you will take everything from him. Make him feel what you've felt. It's the only way we will win this war."

As he looked down at her pale face, Tramp wished he could transfer all the pain she felt onto himself. Tink didn't deserve to be hurt as much as she had been over the centuries. The rebel knew she was good deep down. She wasn't the monster everyone made her out to be. Tramp knew that better than anyone. With her hand over his, he truly wanted to take everything she was feeling and allow himself to feel it just so she could let herself feel anything but pain for once. "I know we do," he whispered back. Tramp gazed around them. They were hidden, but that didn't mean that no one was lurking in the shadows with them. "We have to find somewhere to go," he said, his eyes returning to her. "Even with the truce, it's not safe here."

[messed-up-curly]

She glanced down at the two lifeless bodies, laying pushed up against the tree’s trunk, just how they’d left them. Despite the fact it was getting dark out, it wasn’t hard to notice the deep gashes and cuts covered in blood. Or maybe she just found it easy to remember as she’d inflicted them herself just moments ago. “Well I’m not stupid enough to get in to a one-against-two-game but indeed I was here when we ran in to them.” She peeped at her own weapon being held against her, mentally cursing it for being forgotten. But her gaze quickly returned to the guy’s face and she smiled. He was a rebel that was for sure now, obviously caring for her victims. One more could be added to that list though.

She’d been in tougher situations before and she knew she could manage to get out, in victory even. She’d just have to play this wisely instead of reckless now she was basically weaponless. She’d admit that going back here unarmed had been a stupid move, but it had been made nonetheless and now it was time for her to cover it up. “Lucky coincidence, besides wanting to be sure your friends were actually death, I realised I’d left this plunged in one of their chests.” She just continued smiling, finding it amusing how easily the truth could provoke someone.

Fear wasn’t something she thought was needed right now, not ever really. She’d much rather gain back control of the plight. Because overlooking the scene makes it oh so much easier to figure out the next step and even the complete path to triumph. That’s what she was always taught. Lessons like ‘acknowledge brings confidence’ and ‘let the others fear you’ was something she tried practicing daily on her foes. But also the obvious enjoy it brought her these days to beat the enemy contributes to her playful behaviour that’d turned dark and sinister over time. “Now will you give it back to me?” She extended her hand forward, the blue-purplish bruises and small scratches showing exactly how well her handiwork had paid off in previous battles. “Or will I have to make you?”

[tramp-the-rebel]

His eyes glanced back down at the lifeless body, a pang of despair ran through him that was not evident on his face. Weakness was not often tolerated on Neverland anymore. Weakness got people killed. And although Tramp was the type who loved every single one of the rebels and they were all his weak spot, his enemies would never know that. He couldn't let them be used against him. The rebel would not allow himself or anyone else be vulnerable because of him. "So how many of you were there then?" he questioned, returning his eyes to her. A smirk formed on his face when her eyes ran over the weapon he held in his hand. It was foolish of her to leave it behind. Had she ran into the wrong person, she'd already be dead.

"I noticed," he remarked. His words were harsh and his eyes challenged her. Tramp made note of the way she was taunting him, rubbing in the fact that two of his own had been murdered by her and the others. But never did the stoic, stone-cold look on his face falter. He wouldn't allow her to see him break, not in a million lifetimes. Instead, he would make her pay for what she did. Tramp was not planning on letting her walk away unharmed, nor was he planning to kill her. He needed to send her back wounded, but alive. She would be a message to the Lost Boys that they cannot simply kill a rebel and get away with it. 

Tramp threw her weapon towards her so that it landed in front of her feet. "Lucky for you, I fight fair. I don't need to you to be unarmed for me to win. I think I can manage," he cocked his head to the side and took a few steps towards her, stepping over the dead soldiers. The rebel reached for his own sword and pulled it out of its sheath. The metal was stained red with the blood of pirates and Lost Boys alike. Tramp held the weapon in front of him, tip pointed toward her, and waited for her to retrieve her knife. "Come on now, I don't have all day," he said impatiently.

[warbornhq]

She couldn’t deny her relief as Kyra slowed her pace, the pain less substantial now as they trotted along at a nice, even pace. Letting out a breath she hadn’t even realised she’d been holding, Tink fell back against Tramp, taking the reins and pulling the signal for Kyra to stop moving, needing just a moments rest from all of this motion. Remaining in silence for a long, long minute, she turned herself slowly, allowing herself to look Tramp in the face. By the light of the moon, it was clear she was exhausted. Dark shadows hung menacingly beneath her usually bright eyes, her skin seemed paler than usual, the blood loss evident across her body. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” She said quietly, unable to quite meet Tramp’s eyes as she spoke, voice low and dull. “Going off to burn Hook’s ship to the ground when I’m on the verge of death, here? I’m supposed to be bloody smart.” She shook her head, eyes falling closed for just a moment, afraid she might drift off should she keep them shut for too long. “I dunno what I’m trying to prove here, Tramp. But I’m being idiotic.”

Swallowing, she nodded. Tramp knew those rebels better than anyone. He was their family, their friend, and their closest link to the leader who preferred to remain secluded in her own room. Most were lucky should they be granted an audience with her. Many even labelled her a recluse, shut up for days on end, rolling in her own insanity and mapping out plans so extravagant they actually worked. “I’ll never let you be alone again,” She promised, her voice close to a whisper as she leaned forward to press their foreheads gently together, reaching for the boy’s hand and giving it a small squeeze. “I swear, you will never again be the same person you were the day you found me.”

[tramp-the-rebel]

Tramp handed off the reins to Tink as Kyra stopped in her tracks. He looked around quickly to make sure they were not spotted and to his relief, they were hidden by the darkness of the night. Even in a truce, they could never be too cautious. Most wouldn't miss out on a chance to harm the rebel leader, especially when she was in no state to fight back. Tramp wrapped his arms around the smaller girl, careful not to disturb her wound, but just enough to give her support and comfort. The pain and weakness on her face saddened Tramp, but he forced himself to remain strong. Tink needed him to be strong. "You want revenge for what he did to our home. I understand. I want that too," his voice was gentle. "You are smart, Tinkerbell. But you are also stubborn which is why you insisted on doing this." Tramp took his eyes off of her and looked out to the sea for a moment. "I think you were trying to prove that he can't break you. That you're stronger than he is and that even though our home is destroyed and you were injured, you would retaliate." His eyes returned to her. "And we will. Another day."

A sad grin entered his face. "Thank you," he said, resting his head against hers. "Truly. For everything you've done for me." His words were sincere, just as they always were. Looking down at this girl, Tramp was reminded of the love he held for her. It was a love he never would have imagined centuries ago, yet here he was, his closest friend resting in his arms while he spoke of things only she knew about. Tramp was eternally grateful for Tink and never would he forget that. The rebel removed one arm from around her and brought up his hand to place it gentle on her cheek, running his fingers over her pale face softly.

[infxni]

Resurface

[infxni]

"Or what?" Pan provoked, not phased by the clear threat this boy posed. Pan knew he was; it was impossible not to. He scoffed at the mere thought of Tinkerbell believing this rat was anything like him. Tramp was just that, a poor excuse of a life and very much a nobody as far as Pan was concerned. They locked eyes as Peter huffed a chuckle. The other was no threat. Had he the sense, Tramp would have been better off stabbing Pan in the chest without another word. Yet there they both stood, alive and well.

He gave little time for the other to respond. The leader’s nimble figure was up in the air before Tramp had a chance to attack. “I’ll do whatever I want to!” he exclaimed, unable to comprehend just how stupid this boy was to provoke him. The air was his guide as it carried him ever higher, effortlessly twisting about before landing on the ground. There was a change in positioning then, this time with Pan’s sword against the edge of Tramp’s neck, a hand reaching out across the other’s mid-section to prevent movement. Pan stood behind the other from his quick jump, and unlike Tramp he had every intention to kill him then.

With force, Peter rounded both of them to face the woman upon her horse. This moment could have only been better had the traitor been close enough to watch it. His grip upon his handle tightened as the blade slowly dug itself against the boy’s neck. Adrenaline rushed through Peter’s veins. He had the power to break Tinkerbell more so than he ever had before, far past the point of repair in the taking of this boy’s life. But as Peter pushed his sword even further toward him , an idea flashed across his head. His eyes widened at the thought. Killing Tramp was too easy. There was no fun in doing it, not like this.

Pan wanted to see Tramp suffer.

"I think we should play a game," the lost boy proposed. He laughed again menacingly. "I wonder if the traitor would even bother looking for you, should you become lost." Literally so, if Pan could have his way. He tightened his hold against the other, hoping to cause some reaction.

[tramp-the-rebel]

Tramp bit his tongue as the boy provoked him. There were so many things he could say, so many threats, insults, and affronts he could throw at him. But the rebel knew very well that they would do no good. Pan would roll every word that left Tramp's mouth right off his shoulders without a second thought. The Lost Boy was far too arrogant to give the rebel the time of day. Which is why Tramp believed he had the upper hand. Pan underestimated him, he thought. Instead of speaking, he simply pushed the blade further towards his heart, hoping to elicit some sort of pain. Tramp couldn't kill him. As much as he wanted to, Tinkerbell would never forgive him. He would lose her forever, and that was unimaginable.

With a quick movement, Tramp was now under the blade of his enemy. His lips pursed as he struggled to free himself from the tight grasp. The edge of Pan's sword rested against the near fatal wound he received on his neck. The slightest bit of pressure had the potential to reopen the wound and would risk him bleeding out. At this point, Tramp was at the mercy of Pan. Any more movement and the threat against his life would become all too real. He remained as still as possible, but slightly edged away from the sharp blade only to find himself unable to move in the Lost Boy's grip. 

Another quick movement and they faced the other direction. Tramp knew what Pan was trying to do. His eyes immediately laid on Tinkerbell perched atop her white horse. She looked stoic and calm. Had she seen what was happening to Tramp, he knew that would change. A small whimper escaped him when Pan's sword dug into his neck. Blood dripped down him, staining his skin red. Tramp's face contorted with pain as he continued to push in further. He had no other choice but to attempt to wriggle away from his grasp. "You let me go or I swear on my life I will kill you and every last Lost Boy," he spoke quickly, his eyes filled with rage. The pain continued to increase until there was a moment where Tramp realized that the blade had stopped moving.

Fear struck him when Pan spoke again, his words filling his head. But his face remained stone cold. Any signal of weakness would let the boy know that he had a power over Tramp. He was using the rebel as a weapon against Tink, he was fully aware of that. Both of them had always known that it was a dangerous game, loving one another. He was her weakness as she was his. "She has other things to worry about," he responded coldly. "I can take care of myself." Tramp sighed loudly out of pain as the grip tightened, pressing against his cuts and bruises. "You let me go right now, boy."

[messed-up-curly]

Jolly laughter rang through a small part of the forest. Just a moment before screams of agony and attacking grunts had taken place in the little open spot but once you could speak of a victory, the joy took over. As with every battle, no matter how small, a victory was only meant for one party. The two soldiers who inevitably lost the surprise attack still lay pushed aside against one of the trees in the clearing, God knows if they were even still breathing. The group of lost boys marching through the darker growing forest on the other hand, were ecstatic and exuberant, obviously the winners of the game.

"I don’t get why we can’t take them all down to be honest. You all saw how quickly we can conquer." The voice carried out in to the laughter of the group. It wasn’t whining or sulking about it but just seemed to be enjoying the idea of bringing more terrorisation, more and on a bigger scale. Taking back the whole island wouldn’t go as easy as said, she knew they weren’t that strong but the power it’d verge appealed to her. Another boy mockingly questioned her what she’d do then all day while one spoke up that there’d be no fun in that, soon the whole conversation roared up again.

She shook her head smiling, her curls following the lead unwanted. Her fingers brushed it back, it was a feature that made her slightly stand out from the others, whose haircuts were hidden under their capes at the moment. “Still, we were amazing.” She made a playful movement to express her satisfaction. “I mean, did you see how I came from the back with my knife when you pulled that arrow?”

She fell silent as she realized something. Her knife, she’d left it on the crime scene, she’d have to get it back. The others wouldn’t let her go alone at first and she understood why, the protective sense they had over each other had touched her more than once before as well. But they’d gotten closer to Skull Rock than that they were to the place and she knew they needed to rest, although no one would admit it. “I’m fine, I’ll be right back. Besides what can happen in two minutes?” She yelled, already sprinting back.

[tramp-the-rebel]

The Neverwood's trees were charred almost as severely as the Hideout had been. The flames had died down, but the scent of burning bark and leaves lingered in the air. Hook had destroyed what the rebels called home. They were left with merely the remnants of the place they used to go for safety, for love, and for family. Tramp was upset, he would admit, but he was more concerned for his family. They had all been taken by surprise and he was worried that they had become vulnerable to whomever decided to attack.

He walked through the the forest, hoping to find any lost rebels and bring them all back together. That was always his job. Tramp looked out for everyone since it was beginning to look like everyone on the island only looked out for themselves. War does that to a person. However, the rebel prided himself on being able to hold onto his kindness, his humanity, and his loyalty. He would be nothing without the rebels. Tramp reminded himself of that often so he wouldn't lose himself. His family kept him grounded. The least he could do for them was make sure they were protected and loved.

It didn't take him long to stumble across the two dead rebels. At first glance, he had assumed they'd been caught in the fire. In the middle of a forest, no one had a chance to escape the flames. They would have been consumed before they even knew what was happening. Tramp cursed Hook under his breath, swearing he would get the captain back for this. He took a few steps closer, hoping to identify the newly dead boys. It was a dreadful sight, his family members' lifeless bodies strewn out on the forest floor. But he had to do this. Tramp needed to report back to Tinkerbell the fallen soldiers.

As he edged closer to the bodies, he noticed blood. Not something you would see if they had died by fire. Tramp rushed closer. A stab wound. Rage filled him. Someone, maybe a group of people, had killed his family. The rebel was never one to let that go easily. A knife flickered in the sunlight. The killers must have left it behind. "Foolish," he whispered. A mix of anger and sadness washed over him as he looked back towards the rebels. Whoever did this would get what was coming to them. He would make sure of that.

A sound of feet running behind him caused his head to snap around toward the source of the sound. A figure with curly, bouncing hair made its way to him. Tramp stood up straight and puffed out his chest as the figure-- a girl-- stopped in front of him. "You did this, then?" His words were venom on his lips. Tramp reached down and picked up the knife she must have left behind. The rebel held it up for her to see, blood still dripping down the blade. "You forgot something," he raised his eyebrows in a challenging manner.

[warbornhq]

His words rung true but Tinkerbell was stubborn, for she wanted to see that ship alight with flames, and she knew that she would see no other opportunity. “I have to!” She protested, though her voice betrayed her. Hazy and exhausted, it deepened her tone. What if she lost her nerve in the morning? The cauterisation had made her feel invincible, the pain of it still lingered within her and adrenaline pumped through her despite her weary appearance. She wanted to be free of Hook, she did not want to feel this way forever. For the first time in a very, very long time, she felt quite afraid. Not a fear that took her over, but a few tiny things that wiggled beneath her skin. Disease. Fear that she would lost Tramp for good, fear that Hook would use all that he knew against her, and fear that she might lose herself. Tinkerbell did not have time for the follies of love, so she would stamp the poison out whilst she still could. “I’m not, I'm not weak… I’m not!” She exclaimed. “I am strong. I’m strong. I am not weak.” She despised the word. She feared it.

"They don’t fight for me. I’m about as hopeful to them as a leaf in winter." Tink mumbled, hissing as her wound stung, reaching for the flask of rum in her cloak and swallowing a rather large gulp of the stuff. She still felt fatigued, her eyes growing heavy and her mind foggy, though she forced herself to remain awake. She was used to it, to a self enforced insomnia. Sleeping meant dreaming, and dreaming meant terror. "You could survive without me. You’ve always been a survivor. You’re strong, I saw that in you from the moment we met." She frowned, turning her head to look at him, Tink leaned forward and pressed a grateful kiss to the corner of his cheek. "Thank you for remaining my friend. I’m afraid I have very few."

[tramp-the-rebel]

Tramp couldn't say he was surprised by her protest. She wanted this, he knew she did. However, it was in her best interest to interject. In the state Tink was in, he wasn't even sure if she could survive a walk up to the ship. As much as he wanted to see Hook's ship burn, his worry for the girl was more prevalent in his mind. "I am concerned for your health. You almost died back there. Your strength isn't at what it needs to be in order to do this," he told her. "I know you want to do this. Believe me, I do as well." Tramp slowed Kyra down to a walk. "You'll be killed there." He watched silently as she exclaimed. The rebel hadn't intended to upset her as much as he did. When he said that she was weak, he didn't mean it in a harmful way. Tinkerbell was the strongest person he had ever known. It was a matter of whether or not she could complete this task and remain alive, let alone conscious. "I know," his voice was a mere whisper. "I know you are strong. I've seen you be strong a million times. I don't doubt that. But I'm afraid this will harm you further." Tramp sighed, knowing this argument wouldn't get them anywhere. She was more stubborn than him, so he would never be able to convince her otherwise. "If you're going to go, I will be right by your side as I always am. I just don't think this is a good idea anymore."

"They look up to you," he reassured. "I know you don't see that, but they do. And they understand why you are the way you are. You gave them something to fight for. That's not something they'll forget." Tramp cast his eyes downward at the thought of the time before he found Tinkerbell. "I was completely alone. I may have been able to survive, but it was hell. It was horrible even when I hadn't had someone who loved me. Now that I have, it would just be that much harder. I could survive, yes, but I couldn't even imagine how difficult it would be," he admitted. He had sworn to himself years ago that he wouldn't ever return to the life he had before the rebellion. Tramp intended on keeping that promise. "That may be true, but know that the ones you do have will be with you until the end," he consoled.

[the-one-who-loves-the-night-dea]

"Well, skin that redheaded pirate alive." She winked at Tramp. "I didn’t have much better to do and I care about mouth. I wouldn’t let her get hurt or killed under my watch. You could say I was being a guardian angel until I saw someone in need of my assistance, Tramp." Nyx playfully shoved the boy. "You are going to use every word I say against me, aren’t you?"

Nyx took a drink from her glass and then shook her head. “Today is showing me that anything can be possible. I wish that this peace was lasting longer than just a day though. It’s a shame tomorrow they will be enemies again.” She sighed. “I guess that we take what we can get.”

[tramp-the-rebel]

"Don't you worry. I will," he smirked. Tramp nodded and smiled. "Good. People forget that there needs to be someone just watching and ready to help during a battle. Without assistance for the wounded, more lives would be lost than there already are." He laughed when she shoved him and took a small sip of his beer. "Oh, I most definitely am," he winked.

"It is a shame, but that's war," he shrugged. "We're lucky we are even getting this much of a break. After centuries of this, you'd think Christmas would be lost on everyone. Apparently not though." Tramp was glad about that, but the gnawing reminder that tomorrow they would return to battle wouldn't go away. He took another long gulp of his drink in hopes of forgetting all about the war.

[warbornhq]

As she leaned against Tramp, Tinkerbell could see the world grow foggier, and though she rested, her strength remained far, far out of reach. Not even he could push her forward, he who handed her his own strength with open palms when she needed nothing more. Shivering somewhat, she could almost feel her skin turning paler by the light of the moon, her iconic bundle of silver hair hidden beneath a dark hood and her face void of whatever strength it normally carried. Instead it was screwed up in pain and discomfort as Kyra rode on unforgiving, as the wind rushed past her, and the newly sealed wound in her stomach still stung with fresh sensitivity. She clutched it - weaker, weaker, weaker.

She closed her eyes, queasy, but swore she would remain conscious. She would step aboard that damned ship, and she would burn it right to the ground. She would rid herself of this sinister man — he would either die aboard his precious ship or he would live long enough to despise her for what she had done. Swallowing, she felt her head lean forward of its own accord, the woman too exhausted now to even hold herself up. “You could’ve left me. I could be of more use as a martyr. Who knows?” She mumbled, forcing herself to open up her eyes. She had no idea when their conversations had become so morbid, or why she felt a stranger in his arms. “You did save me. I couldn’t have done it by myself — I would’ve bled out before I even made it to the fire. You healed me, now allow me to express my gratitude.” She tried to speak sternly, but she was slurring her words somewhat, too tired to focus.

[tramp-the-rebel]

The pressure of Tinkerbell leaning against Tramp became greater as her strength continued to fade. She was beginning to feel more and more like dead weight as they rode across the island. The contrast of her usual stoic appearance was faltering and there was no denying that. The rebel worried that her injuries were too devitalizing to complete what they had set out for. Tramp doubted that she would make it to see the Jolly Roger sink. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her eyes shut and that was the moment he knew that they could not do this, not until her strength returned. Tramp pulled Kyra's reins lightly, causing her to slow her quick pace. "You're too weak, Tink," he spoke bluntly. "We have to do this another time. You won't survive this if we try it now."

Tramp was aware that those words might upset her. He was questioning her strength in this moment. An unspeakable thing, really, especially from someone so close to her. Not once in his life had he ever questioned or doubted the rebel leader's strength. But he had also never seen her in a state such as this one. "You're of no use to us as a martyr. You're our leader. If you die, then who will we look to? We would lose who we are fighting for." The idea of Tink becoming a martyr was outrageous to Tramp. But even more so, it was one of the worst possible things he could imagine. He would become the closest of companions with Peter Pan-- the man he hated most in the world-- before he would allow Tinkerbell to die. "Most of all, I would lose you. And I can't have that." Tramp nodded and leaned forward slightly to place a small kiss on the top of her head. There was no use in arguing with her statement. "You're welcome."

[wheremouthis]

She plopped down next to her friend and beamed in his direction at his reaction to the present. Much better than that of the bartenders. “I’m fine thanks to you and Nyx,” she said, remembering her escape from the pirates and her injured arm. It still hurt a little, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle.

"I was careful!" she exclaimed. She hated being babied, even though sometimes she did need it. Tramp was always the one looking out for her. The impetuous little girl just didn’t know when to say no. "It’s not like these things happen to me on purpose," she plopped herself down next to Tramp. "Sometimes I think I’m just prone to trouble."

[tramp-the-rebel]

Tramp grinned. "I'm glad to hear it. You know I wouldn't be able to stand it if something happened to you." The two had been close for centuries. That wasn't something he could let go of. Mouth truly did mean a lot to him. She felt like a little sister to him and he swore to himself a long time ago that he would protect the girl at all costs, even if she didn't want him to.

"If you were careful, you wouldn't have gotten caught," he smirked. Tramp laughed as she sat down next to him. It did always seem like Mouth was running into a bit of trouble, but he was that way as well. Most of the rebels were too. Trouble just seemed unavoidable in Neverland. "I've noticed. But we all are, I suppose," he shrugged. "It does make for a more interesting time although."

[hrlequins]

"It will end, will it?" His voice was something liquid, leaking from his lips and dripping down his chin. Black, and sticky, much like the rest of them. "It’s been going on for a good few centuries now, lad.” He hissed, his eyes alight with amusement, but behind that was a void. His expressions did a wonderful job of animating his face, his lips like a wild moving thing, eyes widening, cheeks stretching, eyebrows raising - but it was all lost in his eyes. He was lacking something. Something that his precious fairy had stolen from him a long, long time ago. Perhaps he was better now, having built himself up from his toes to his nose, recreating himself to the best of his abilities - but she had stolen something. his common decency, his empathy, his emotions, his humanity. He snarled at the boy. “You truly think that? Like she’s some hero? Do you even know what she’s done to me, you foolish child? Nothing can save me now because she took everything from me!”

[tramp-the-rebel]

Tramp nodded enthusiastically. "It will. It has to. We won't be fighting for eternity. We would die off long before that. Look at how many we've lost already. If it doesn't end, we become extinct," he shrugged. The man's bitter words struck something in the rebel. The way he spoke of Tinkerbell, his lack of emotions, his disturbing demeanor. Ah, of course. Smee. Tramp should've recognized him, but the man had changed so much since what Tink had done to him. Altough, the rebel couldn't blame himself for not identifying Smee sooner. He never took much part in torture, so he never saw him much. Those methods never brought much good and it was an unnecessary tactic, at least in Tramp's eyes. "I remember," he nodded, breaking eye contact. "But surely if she took everything from you, she can give it back." His eyes returned to Smee, a look of symapthy crossing his face. "Will she? Not likely. But that doesn't matter anymore. You can't change what she did. But you can recover yourself. Nothing is ever lost completely, Smee."

[warbornhq]

Tink leaned against Tramp as they rode, back against his chest, and feeling that strong support he always brought her. At some point, she handed him the reins, too tired to possibly keep moving herself and taking to just attempting to keep herself upright upon Kyra’s back. This lack of strength in her was something new, the pixie weakening as the horse’s feet flew over the rocky terrain on her way back down to the island’s port town. Each bump stung, Tinkerbell sure that she could feel her bones rattle as they moved along the slope, but she kept her pained winces to herself nonetheless. Her white hair flew in the breeze behind them, a flag of its own creation, making it known to everyone that a pixie as gold as the sun had swiftly turned to ice over the years.

Pulling her cloak over her head, Tink hid herself from view, not that anyone would recognise her in this weakened state. She noticed that they were preparing a truce, mentioning the captain being out of sight and the rebel leader being wounded somewhere. Funny how her people could fight these men to the death and still share a drink with them over Christmas. Hypocritical, but she allowed it. They had fought well for her. “You saved my life you know?” She called over the sounds of hooves hitting the ground, resting her head in the crook over his neck as he rode them into town. She was unsure where exactly she stood with her friend now, loving him more than she did this entire land, yet still feeling herself dragged away from him by the hands of Hook. “Thank you.”

[tramp-the-rebel]

Tramp took the reins from her, directing Kyra towards their destination. He allowed Tink to lean against him, resting and regaining any amount of strength before an attempt at destroying Hook's ship. It was beginning to become more difficult to remain strong for the girl, seeing as Tramp's own wounds had begun to take a toll. He could feel the warm blood seeping from the laceration on his neck, but the rebel forced himself to ignore it and allow his adrenaline give him the strength he so desperately needed. Right now, he had bigger things to worry about. For example, keeping Tinkerbell hidden from the view of enemies along their journey. They could not afford to be attacked. All of their energy would be required for their current plan. 

A truce was being arranged, but Tramp knew it would not last long. Once the ship was sunk, battle would break out again. The pirates would not stand for a truce if their home was to be destroyed. However, it was a blessing. The rebels deserved to relax for once. "I just followed your orders. Don't give me credit for what I didn't do. You saved yourself," he answered. Upset as he was with her, Tramp had decided that he must do whatever he could to forget the situation. He had almost lost her. If that had happened and they hadn't reconciled whatever problems they faced, Tramp would never forgive himself. The rebel loved his leader more than anything. He could not waste his time being upset with her, not anymore. "I wasn't going to let you die. I could never," he spoke just loud enough for her to hear.

[the-one-who-loves-the-night-dea]

"I’d love to help you get her back. Nobody hurts my Tramp and gets away with it." She stated with a smirk on her face."She’s fine Tramp. I got hurt the worst out of us two. I tried to make sure to protect her with my life. You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to her." Nyx laughed at Tramps jab at her statement from last night. "It is, kid. But let me dream."

It was nice to breath and relax. This was how she usually felt at night. There was no fighting and nobody after her. Cheers and drunken songs filled the air which made her smile grow wider. It was a nice thing to hear. “Yeah, I mean rebels and pirates drinking together. Who would have thought they’d get along? They just killed each other’s friends.”

[tramp-the-rebel]

Tramp laughed at her agreement to help. Although, he really did appreciate that she was protective of him. A long time ago, the idea of a family was simply a dream he longed for. But thankfully, it had become a reality. "Good," he nodded. "I'm glad you went after her. That's very brave. Thank you. Although, I'm not too glad that you got injured in the process. But you're strong. You can recover, I know you can." Tramp smiled over at her. "'Dreams can be wonderful and that's why we hold on to them,'" he stated, quoting her again in a playful voice.

On the other side of the bar, a fellow rebel and a pirate sat together, smiles plastered on both faces. It was such a rare sight that Tramp almost thought he was seeing things. "There's actually peace in Neverland. That's a phrase I never thought I'd say again," he chuckled. He knew it wouldn't last long, but Tramp would do all he could to enjoy the time while it lasted. 

[warbornhq]

As she waited for Kyra, she lay her head on Tramp’s shoulder, the pixie completely exhausted yet rearing to go all the same. Adrenaline rushed violently through her veins whilst her body weakened by the second - such an odd sensation but as usual Tramp stood next to her, holding her up with a strength that almost wasn’t human. How had he remained standing after all these years? How had he survived? She watched him with half a smile and pressed a kiss to his cheek, looking back out as Kyra approached in the distance.

She winced as Tramp lifted her upon the horse, stroking the silky mane as she waited for Tramp to hop up too, no way could she ride into the town alone. “He won’t get away with this,” She said quietly, looking down at the sea below them, miles away but alight and shining with the moving waves. Anger flared up in her, an artificial sort of rage that she had built up from nothing. Her resentment for James Hook would always remain, but this felt forced somehow. Still, she believed it. It was real. “I want to see him burn like our brothers and sisters.”

[tramp-the-rebel]

The flames surrounding them seemed to light up everything on the island. Fire burned hot as the bellicose rebels fought their enemies, filling the streets with blood. The sight fueled the desire to watch Hook struggle as he lost his prized Jolly Roger. Tramp would not let him have the satisfaction of ripping the rebels' home out from under them. No, they would retaliate as they always did. They had never been the ones to go down without a fight and that would not end tonight.

Tramp took his place atop the horse, right behind Tink. A sort of excitement filled the rebel at the thought of their current plans. However dangerous this mission would be, the results would be far greater than any pain the two would endure in the process. At the same time, the boy knew that the entire time he would need to keep a watchful eye over Tink to be sure she wasn't harmed any further. He would not lose her in this fight. Tramp looked at Tink and saw the anger that she began to express. "And burn he will," he stated with a crooked smile.

[aqius--regixs]

At the cusp of the water, the horizon; dusk lined the sky with its purples, orange, reds and pinks. As awe striking as this was, this seemed of disinterest to the merman watching it from the Lagoons waters. Green orbs turned hence from it, waiting for the moment when the waters darkened completely —night time waters hugged the shore. Some time to spar, to ponder on, think on more than just of night fall. Too many things to, so little time for it to get done. Running slender digits through the blonde strands, a strange smell came in, nothing of his kind but more of… No, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It could have been anything, almost anything.

"Standing there silent, doesn’t keep you from my senses. Speak up, I don’t bite." Much, a murmured thought on the ending of the statement as he turned to look over his shoulder to whomever was watching from the afar, from the shadows.

[tramp-the-rebel]

Hunting had grown to be quite difficult in Neverland, given the winter the island was experiencing. The rebels had begun relying on the fish in the ocean to keep themselves fed. It was Tramp's job on this particular night to make sure everyone was nourished. It was a dangerous task at times, fetching food from the ocean. The merfolk that occupied the location tended to be incredibly hostile, manipulative creatures. Often, one who came into contact with the beings didn't it make it back unscathed. Tramp, however, had managed to survive multiple encounters with them completely unharmed. But he always knew that he needed to be careful because it was only a matter of time before he wasn't so lucky.

Approaching the shoreline, he spotted mermen in their Lagoon. He kept to the shadows in attempt to make his way past the area unnoticed and continue his search for food. However, it didn't take long for him to be spotted. The rebel silently cursed to himself and moved from his position. "I have a hard time believing that. Merfolk aren't exactly the friendliest of creatures," he stated, making his way towards the water. There was no use in hiding any longer.

[hrlequins]

The challenge in the boys eyes was clear, stronger than he himself. Smee cocked his head, a sly grin on his handsome features, a face that had once been kiddish and chubby now defined as a man. There was so little in his eyes that every ‘emotion’ that stumbled across his face was most likely false, completely forged from years of feeling nothing at all. “You’re so good aren’t you? So hopeful. How can you have hope when things are so desolate? You think she’ll bring you freedom? You’ll all end up like me - you fools.” He hissed his words, his voice had music in it, lifted by his charisma but the words held little meaning to him. He simply did not care. “Even me? Oh my. Wouldn’t that be a dream.”

[tramp-the-rebel]

The grin that crossed the man's face was slightly disturbing, but more sad than anything. Tramp knew that this man must have been good once, an innocent child, but has been turned into a cold, emotionless monster. The rebel was good. He prided himself on being that way since so few good people were left on the island. Unfortunately, most had been killed. "Things may be miserable here, but that doesn't mean it's going to be like that forever. This war will end eventually. Hope is what has kept me alive this whole time. Everyone has something that keeps them alive. Mine just happens to be hope," he shrugged. "She will bring us freedom. I know that. Some of us will end up like you, but not all. We're still children, lad. No matter what this war has done to us. Innocence has not been lost, not completely. Even just a shred of it can be recovered." Tramp looked the man over, his features delicate but strong. The rebel had no intentions of exchanging harsh words with him. There was no point in making an enemy of a wanderer.  "Even you. Though I can't say that you would be an easy thing to rebuild. But it's possible."