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alias: Lime
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story: Peter Pan
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Wendy Darling


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Feb 26 2018, 07:47 PM
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lost girls find a way

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<i class="fa fa-pencil"></i> 445 words

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<p>It didn’t matter if Storybrooke was just a large prison to Wendy. It only mattered that she could run around free, like she was now. With her hair free from the braids or ribbons she usually had, she was taking advantage of the park being relatively empty on this particular day. She itched to sit down and tell someone a story about faraway lands or tiny pixies that she imagined watched her as she pranced around. For the feeling of being cooped up in a cage never really left her and she had to stretch her legs whenever she got the chance. The only thing she missed about the island was the ability or thought of flying. At times she would feel for the chain around her neck that had the fairy dust hanging from the end and remember that it was gone. Whatever Tinkerbell was doing these days, the little bird hoped that the dust was being put to good use. Unfortunately she couldn’t climb up a tree and fly without it.</p>

<p>That would end in a bruise or two, so she decided against it every time the thought popped into her head. Belief wasn’t good enough on its own, to her disappointment. Belief hadn’t been good enough to earn her a place among the Lost Boys either. Then again, bargaining chips weren’t supposed to be given the star treatment. Leverage didn’t exactly go in the same sentence as guest. She held tightly to that old resentment, refusing to let it go. Wendybird was a cruel nickname when it belonged to a girl with clipped wings. Today her feet were bare, as she had gone so long without shoes and found it difficult sometimes to remember that she could wear them. Wendy found she hadn’t quite lost her taste for dresses, though, so today’s was blue like the sky.</p>

<p>Her imagination tugged insistently at her, begging for its stories to be brought to life. Like a fairy might’ve tugged at her hair in another life–her small being consumed by jealousy. Wendy saw an opportunity almost at once in the form of a young woman, pausing in her dancing to run over there. Taking a moment to catch her breath, with little regard to what her target was doing, Wendy dipped into a curtsy. As if she were a princess in a fairy tale story. “Miss, are you busy at the moment? I am a renowned story teller and I must get my next tale out.” That particular part was a lie, but there was no way the young woman would’ve known unless she questioned that it was a teenage girl telling it to her.</p>

Dec 27 2017, 08:26 PM
Wendy's dreams were either sweet or fitful, pictures of happier times that left her heart aching or nightmares. The bad dreams were the worst, sometimes she felt like the cage would snap from high above and she’d fall. It never happened, but the swaying and jostling certainly fooled her. As first light fell across the island, she had just awoken from a nightmare. Instead of the monsters from her childhood, there was only one that mattered and lurked in the daytime as well as the shadows. As time passed, she heard less and less cries from children became true Lost Boys and no longer felt homesick. Only the newer ones cried now, and the little bird longed to take them in her arms and comfort them. How could she though, when she was a prisoner? A tool, meant to keep her brothers in line. It had been made clear a long time ago that she had no place on Neverland but that–she accepted it but deep down hated it with every fiber of her being. She couldn’t even be anything in her dreams, her feathers plucked. Sometimes the younger ones visited her, curious about the girl in the cage. A doll that had once been pretty, now tattered and almost completely broken.

In her heart lay a spark of hope, large enough to be noted but small enough that when no one came for her it wouldn’t be extinguished. None of this was how any story went–the heroes were supposed to win and the damsel was supposed to be rescued. Funnily enough, she had never imagined herself to be the one in need of saving. Wendy was always the hero in the stories that featured herself, though she had no way of getting a sword and her captor would not be defeated by a mere sword battle. He was much too clever, much too strong. Then of course the Shadow would have to be dealt with. More than once she daydreamed about harnessing a powerful light to burn the Shadow away, and it could not fly off to lure more children. Although it might have been selfish to not consider that maybe some came from broken homes, she was only thinking of her own family. How she had failed Baelfire and doomed them for–what? An adventure that destroyed her views of magic? It shouldn’t have been allowed to tear them apart like that.

Her stomach growled, insisting that she had better feed herself. Closing her eyes for a moment, she knew that she would be getting a meal soon. Whether the food was make believe or not, since she couldn’t tell, she never starved. Whatever injustice the cage was, she supposed that she could be worse off. But the loneliness persisted, and she longed to speak with someone that wasn’t a child she’d never see again after a few times and certainly someone who wasn’t Pan. Wendy longed for a companion, someone she could trust. How far would that trust go, though, when nearly everyone was so loyal to the king? Any secrets she had would be jeopardized. She bit her lip, missing the days when she wouldn’t have to worry about her secrets. Startled out of her thoughts, Wendy could’ve sworn she heard the rustling of leaves and trees, indication that someone was coming. Assuming a neutral expression, the bird had no kind words if it happened to be Pan or even hostile ones. “Is that you, Pan?” Had he come to deliver taunts as well? And yet, she had a feeling that it was someone else. Perhaps another little one, though she had grown tired of them. After an unpleasant night she wasn’t in the mood for questions and prodding.

Jun 17 2017, 09:55 PM
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<div id="Piecelyric2">Used To Mean Something No It Means Nothing </div>


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<p>There were two things right now that Wendy was absolutely certain about, no questions asked. One was that she was unsure of how to feel about Rumplestiltskin, who was supposed to be the Dark One, even though he was Baelfire’s father. The other one was that she wanted to at least try to be kind to him, for Bae’s sake. The Rumplestiltskin in the original tale was a short little man that turned straw into gold for a miller’s daughter, asking for her child when she had nothing else to give. Wendy silently added that to the pile of things she was uncertain about, he definitely wasn’t a funny looking man that was short as well–but maybe he had helped out a miller’s daughter. Would he tell her if she asked? They weren’t exactly friends, though a part of her wanted them to be. But a small voice told her that maybe he wouldn’t appreciate her digging around in his past. Despite her hesitation, she found herself standing in front of the pawn shop that he owned. What kind of forgotten treasures lay in there, remnants of the past? She almost wanted to imagine something of hers was among the different objects, but she wasn’t from the Enchanted Forest. Oh, well.</p>

<p>In the pile of uncertainty lay the question of whether he would be polite to her or not. After all, he didn’t treat her very kindly when Pan’s lies fell from her lips, a defense against the potential harm he could have caused her brothers. That was all in the past, she told herself. He might even be grateful to her for trying to rescue Baelfire, that time when he was a part of her family and she took care of him. Wendy resisted the urge to bite her nails or twirl a strand of her hair, unladylike habits her mother would scold her for if Mrs. Darling still lived. Pan was an enemy of the both of them, so at least they had something in common. He was just a man, a very powerful one, but he shouldn’t have anything against her so she had nothing to fear. So why was she hesitating? The little bird had never been known for being shy or fearful, but her time on the island changed her. Mr. Darling would have a few choice words if he found himself in a situation, but Wendy kept them to herself.</p>

<p>Taking a deep breath to gather her courage, as she often found herself doing these days, she made her way inside the shop of wonders. Well, that’s what she decided to name it. Mr. Gold Pawnbroker & Antiquities Dealer was a mouthful, and the shop did indeed seem to have all kinds of objects inside. The childish urge to touch everything tugged at her, but she clasped her hands behind her back. It wouldn’t do any good to walk around here like she was sneaking around, so she decided to take it upon herself to see if anyone was here. The sign outside indicated that it was open, so perhaps he was in some back room of the sort. “Mr. Gold?” Or did he prefer to be called Rumplestiltskin? If it came to it, he would probably tell him herself.</p>


<div id="Piecetags"> Rumple | 546 | Wendybird in a pawn shop | <a href="">Thanks Greenlee ◇</a></div>




Jun 4 2017, 07:34 PM
When she was in Neverland, she liked to pretend that she was a bird. It wasn’t hard to imagine it–lots of little boys called her a Wendybird. Hanging up in the cage, wings broken. Feathers plucked, knowledge that she would never see her family again. The feeling of hatred. Wendy shook her head as she trudged further into the forest, noting how much more welcoming the trees seemed compared to the island's. This place was controlled by no one, only nature. Taking a deep breath, she felt truly free. No one was chasing her, she could walk where she pleased. She wasn't a part of any games, lies and deceit could not touch her here. Wild laughter would not get stuck in her head, though every so often she found herself pausing thinking she'd heard it. It was all she could do to not break into a run, heartbeat loud in her ears. Wendy often dreamed of being forced to go back, rough hands shoving her into that cursed cage. Even though it was a recurring nightmare, one that made her wake up crying, she knew and believed that Neverland had disappeared along with whatever became of Pan. The boy king.

Despite her brothers' best efforts, she had managed to get her hands on the complete disaster that was the Disney film. It was odd seeing herself with shorter hair wearing a blue nightgown, but the depiction of Pan horrified her. Tinkerbell was all wrong, and the Tiger Lily she remembered meeting was a little girl. Hook was almost silly, and she had let out a laugh. By the time it was over, the tears wouldn't stop until John and Michael came home to comfort her. Who did Walt Disney think he was? But she just had to watch it--the few friends she made at school insisted she did. Everyone called her a little darling, finding it adorable that she shared the name with the character. That day had been the hardest, as she found herself wishing she could have traded places with the little girl in the movie. If only she had been a mother figure instead of a captive.

Hearing a twig snap, Wendy was startled out of her thoughts as she began to flee. No, she thought. I won't go back. She thought of little else but escaping, believing that a sinister laugh reached her ears after the twig broke. It was a Lost Boy, loyal to Pan. He had her brothers again, she was to be the way to secure John and Michael's loyalty again. Caught up in fear, she couldn't stop herself from running straight into another person. Letting out a startled noise, she immediately moved back--ready to run once more. But then she paused, realizing that this was no lost boy. "T..tiger Lily?"

@[Tiger Lily]
Jun 4 2017, 07:07 PM
Wendy hovered nervously in front of the door to Granny's diner, wondering if her hair looked alright. After so many years of it being tangled and unwashed, she was a little obsessed with it looking tidy. She had many ribbons now, bright pretty colors that made her feel like a princess. When she felt anxious, or like everyone was staring at her, she imagined they were staring because she was a beautiful princess. It helped to calm her nerves, at least. Pretending that she used to be a captive princess instead of a bird did wonders for awhile. During that time, she had almost forgotten. But only during the day, nighttime gave way to nightmares where she woke up with her heart beating loudly. Nearly every time she closed her eyes, she could feel herself bumping against the cage when she tried to sleep as if she were still on the island. The cries of children never stopped, she ached to scoop them up and comfort them. Since then, she had learned to accept that there was nothing she could do. Neverland was over and done with, never again would boys be whisked away with promises of no rules and no grownups. The fact that she was growing taller made her triumphant, she spent every moment living defiantly.

She wore skirts now, even jeans that would probably horrify her mother. Wendy took a deep breath, moving forward to push the door to Granny's open and step inside. Even now, she felt like an outsider. The young girl felt like she didn't belong back in London after so much had changed, nor did she feel like she belonged among people from fairy tales. However, apparently there were people from other worlds in the town as well. The portal that brought her here was one of many, all over the place. For now, all she cared about was hoping that one would pull her brothers here as well--and that she had a chance of seeing Baelfire again. As she surveyed the diner, she noticed that it had a fair amount of people inside. Gulping slightly, she began looking for a place to sit. A chair at a table was unoccupied, though the other chair certainly wasn't. Surely he wouldn't mind company? She could even offer to tell him a story.

Steeling her nerves, she moved over there--making sure to stand straight. Even a century or so later, she had managed to keep the habits of a little lady. Wendy wondered if Mrs. Darling would be proud of her. It took some courage to not think about how upset her mother was when she never returned with Baelfire, how heartbroken she might have been along with her father. Drawing in a deep breath, Wendy met the eyes of the young man at the table. "Hello...may I sit across from you? I won't cause any trouble, I promise. I could even tell you a story." Eyes widening, Wendy dipped into a sort of clumsy curtsy. "Oh, how rude of me. My name is Wendy Darling." Pretend that you're normal, she told herself.


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