Ahhhh that dress
Ahhhh that dress
Tinkerbell couldn’t be too sure how long she’d been lying there now. Every time she woke up, and every time she fell back to sleep, there was the same thing - nothingness. Just dust sparkling through the open holes, the very glass that was slowly covering up her view of the outside world. She’d tried over and over again to escape, nearly popped her arm out of its socket for how hard she rammed herself again and again into the cork. The last time of course, had knocked her out cold, as her body crumpled to the ground of the bottle, the loud clink of glass as her skull connected with the bottom of the bottle.
She and the Lost Boys had gotten into a fight - Peter was off exploring somewhere, she was in charge, and they didn’t like it. Peter wanted them in bed, but they didn’t want to, and ever since Wendy had gone… Well, Peter expected Tink to pick up the slack for being the mother to everyone. And she hated it, especially when she wanted to run around and have as much fun as everyone else. So instead, one of the twins had put her in the bottle, while the other sealed it with a cork, and it wasn’t long after that, when… Tinkerbell never liked to think about it. All she wanted to do was think about getting out, getting back home to the other fairies, hoping the other fairies were there at all, and working out how to set the order of Neverland back to normal.
The next thing Tink found was that she was nestled in a warm hand. It smelt of sweat and sea air, and the mixture roused her slightly, her tiny fingers twitching. As her senses slowly returned to her, she felt a breeze tickling her wings. Next she heard a rough, yet husky voice whispering, and slowly her eyes flickered open. The person she saw in front of her? Was hardly what she was expecting. And while a normal person’s reaction would be gratitude, maybe shock? Tink started to giggle.
In fact, she giggled so much that she rolled over onto her back, her tiny legs kicking, before she started wheezing, coughing out a plume of smoke that shot her from Hook’s hand, and into the wall, sliding down the back of a bed. Seconds later, a red light shone, and she darted back upwards, landing on Hook’s nose, with her arms folded, and her eyes narrowed. Of course he’d have something to do with this.
Not wanting to have to look at her cross-eyed, Killian grabbed her with his hand and held her firmly about her little tiny waist. “Don’t look at me like that, my lady, I didn’t have anything to do with this. So you can take that scolding frown and show it to someone who — oh, wait.” He held his hook up and gestured at her with it, like how someone would point a finger. “You can’t. Because there is no one else.”
Raising one eyebrow, Killian let go of her, opening his hand palm-up so that she could stand on it if she chose to. “Now, fairest fairy of them all. Just what in the seven hells happened he—”
A sound silenced him. It was a scuffle, like someone was up at the top of one of the entrance tunnels. He glanced at Tink again, then slipped away to go stand next to the hole. Whoever was coming in, he wanted to be able to slit their bloody throat before they had the chance to straighten up, if it looked like they were trouble.
Killian looked at Tinkerbell and pressed a finger against his lips, expression stern.
After her exquisite, yet all together tiring, trans-planetary journey, Wendy found her legs pulling her, despite the fact that her knowledge of the surrounding area was less than squat, towards Peter’s club house. It was as if somehow by some sort of miracle that her instincts carried her there, for no less than ten minutes later, Wendy found herself wandering along the path leading up to it.
The clubhouse looked exactly as her memories had once recalled it and the female beamed proudly to herself for being able to find such a place without even so much as a map. —Trust your instinct, Wendy told herself, as these were exactly the kinds of the things that the female would need to remember in Neverland. Acquiring such traits deliver a blow more powerful than weapons, Peter had once told her.
And if that failed? Well, she was packing a knife. Speaking of which, as the danger was still unknown her inside the fort, Wendy fetched the safety precaution from her pack and tucked it securely into the band of her thigh high socks. It was a peculiar spot, some might have thought, but as this was an area just within a fingers reach for Wendy— it would allow for a smooth transition from peaceful to deadly. Now, she was ready to take her chances.
So she did, sliding through the rounded entrance first before climbing down into the unknown below. It looked the same— though that couldn’t be absolutely sure to Wendy quite yet, for as she pulled herself from the tunnel, something sharp pressed hard against her throat; another feeling she would have known anywhere.
Trusting her instincts, the girl contorted at lighting speed and grabbed the blade in an almost liquid motion from the band. Hook stumbled back from her shoving him with her shoulder and this allowed for Wendy to flick open her own concealed weapon, pressing the tip to the pulsing artery located near his inner thigh.
The pirate’s grip held her tight, though as he saw she was female, the hateful stare in his eyes lessened slightly. However, he was not one to let his guard down despite this fact. At least, not with this stale mate between them, and not with her blade shoved up against such a mortal spot.
Wendy was the first to make her demands.
『♡♡♡』—;; ”Release me, Captain Hook. Release me now or I’ll make you bleed like a stuck pig and beg for your mother.”
Wendy Darling didn’t fuckin’ believe it. No way in bloody hell was it even possible! Or at least..that’s what the strawberry blonde had thought as she sat, openly gaping at the telly. It was early morning, considering that the sun was just beginning to peak through the blinds creating what would become a dance of finely patterned shadows on the carpet that was strewn across the bedroom floor.
Pouting, full, cherry smudged lips were pulled to a circular formation as the girl herself almost felt sick. Immediately, Wendy pushed the plate bearing a barely half ingested grapefruit away from her and settled instead for a half smoked fag that was still smoldering in the ashtray.
An inhale. An exhale— the sweet kiss of nicotine dulling the burning nausea that had quickened in her stomach. This couldn’t be possible, she had to be plastered; her attire still being that which she had worn the night before was enough to attest to it. But, alas, she was sober; the headache of a hangover enough proof to Wendy that what she saw had actually been true.
So now that she had successfully digested that fact, the next question that came into her mind was: Why? It wasn’t like it was a usual thing or anything, recognizing Captain Hook’s ship—Ahem.. an unidentified ˆghost ship’, which had been briefly spotted floating along the Manhattan shore line before suddenly disappearing. But as soon as she’d seen it, Wendy would’ve known that ship anywhere. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as she pondered the precise reasoning behind such an unexpected little visit from one of her most well-known enemies.
Wendy’s thoughts dithered over every possible reason, but the truth was that there were far too many and soon she found herself wondering about not only Hook, but Peter too. Lashes fluttered closed, allowing for the memories of a lost boy from Neverland that she had once known so well to be called forth. Would he hate who she was now, this new her? She was not quite at all the girl that the boy had known when they had met; life had changed her. But life changed everybody, didn’t it? —Though, not always for the better~
The bitter thought was quickly silenced by another draw on the cigarette still perched between smeared red lips. She thought of all the things that had happened since she had known Peter, of the wonders of living in 21st century London— now this vast city had become Wendy’s playground, though comparatively it was absolutely nothing to Peter’s Neverland.
Perhaps, Wendy had found it this way because she was more than ever like her Peter. The adventurous part in him had always been a quality that Wendy had admired. Maybe it just had become integrated into herself in some strange attempt to keep him alive, to carry him with her on every little exploit within this vast concrete jungle, or maybe he’d just awoken something that had long been sleeping. Wendy wasn’t sure anymore.
But what she was sure of was this new idea of adventure that had been formulating itself in her thoughts. Should she? She had to, if not to just check up on things, then for herself. To prove to herself that it all hadn’t been something she’d all just imagined. The Jolly Roger, Neverland, Peter— all of it.
Lashes fluttered open then, the image of the boy quickly dissipating back to her memory once more before reality could begin to stain the thought of him. Skinny legs shifted, pulling her frame now to a standing position and maneuvered her to the closet. Wendy smoothed the wrinkles in her dress right before her fingers casually began plunking various garments from racks; the cloth in her hands soon becoming streamers of colored fabrics flying through the air before they slowly began to float down to a crinkled pile upon her messy sheets.
Once the proper selection for attire had been made, the female stripped herself and pulled on a fresh pair of linens to replace the soiled dress that had accompanied her out the night before. It wouldn’t be appropriate, seeing a familiar face after so many years in the outfit that had been worn out the night before. Old Wendy would have had none of that and so it went that neither would she, she quickly decided.
Now that all this had been done, her mind clearly all but made up on the matters, the strawberry blonde grabbed the last few remaining essentials that she would need and threw the contents into a bag. —A hairbrush, a carton of cigarettes, a lighter, a serrated folding knife, her favorite lipstick, and the biggest handle of Jack the girl could carry all found their way into the pack before Wendy was satisfied.
Having that been said, now came the hard part. —How, exactly, was she to go about getting there? It wasn’t exactly like Wendy was all to familiar with getting there all by herself. After, all the only time she had visited Neverland had been with Peter. But, there had to have been something she could do to get back. What had Peter told her to do? There was fairy dust, but it was more than that.
And suddenly, it dawned on Wendy. Belief is the world’s most powerful magic. As this thought came to mind, the ground shifted suddenly beneath her as if some strange force had been awakened once more. The jerk sent the female flying, tripping over herself before landing with a harsh thud on her bum. The girl let out a cry of distress and irritation, but it was as she sat pouting momentary that she noticed the peculiar vile situated on the ground next to her.
It was glowing.. —Fairy dust? The excitement read clear on Wendy’s face as she eagerly scooped it up, grabbed her packed bag and plucked the stopper from the top of the container. However, it was not dust that slid forth as the bottle was overturned, but a scroll. The female perked a brow at this, quickly unrolling it to analyze the words that had been scrawled out in an elegant script on the parchment.
I, Wendy Darling, hereby agree, by the signing of my name on the allotment below, to each of the following terms:
- The location and capture of the wanted villain:
Captain of the Jolly Roger—Killian Jones AKA Hook.
- The return of said captive to:
Mr. Gold’s Pawn Shop, Storybrooke, Maine.
In exchange, I, Wendy Darling, shall be granted safe passageway to Neverland and anything that should be required in order to assure transition of the above mentioned.
She read the words over to herself thrice before she ultimately decided this to be her only real choice on the matter. —What could be so bad about bringing a known criminal to justice? Surely, that was the reasoning behind why this, Mr. Gold person, was requesting her assistance and the goodness in her soul, not to mention the convenience of it all, refused to not let Wendy sign it.
It was as she signed, in a puff of purple smoke, the scroll disappeared as soon as Wendy’s pen had lifted from her signature. It choked her and soon the girl began to cough uncontrollably. The room was spinning and the ground felt almost as though it had given way under her, but Wendy held no fear towards this. She simply pulled her bag up securely around her shoulder, held out her arms— allowing herself to fall.
The chilly kiss of early morning’s breeze welcomed Wendy as she tumbled headfirst backwards into Neverland. Her expression appeared nothing if but bewildered; unsure if this was reality or she had just gone completely insane. The faster she plummeted, the more the fear look root in her stomach. —Don’t be afraid; you can fly, Wendy~
A familiar voice reminded her, quickly banishing any fear that had grown in her heart. And fly she could! Though, it wasn’t entirely smooth at first, but in fact incredibly turbulent; eventually though, the girl managed to maneuver herself to the ground safely. As her feet touched the ground, Wendy’s heart felt as though it might leap out of her chest then; the intense pulse of adrenaline pulsing through her viens as she managed as laugh and to provide a comment to no one in particular.
『♡♡♡』—;; “Well, that was certainly exhilarating.”