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[AW] All the world is made of faith, and trust, and pixie dust - Printable Version

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All the world is made of faith, and trust, and pixie dust - Pan - 01-23-2019

Pan

He played in the wildflowers, dancing and skipping with joy as his laughter peeled against the summer air.  It was a perfect summer’s day, and the boy was oh-so-cheerful, frolicking without a care in the world.  Sunlight glinted from the green on his scales, reflecting in a beautiful array of prismatic light, splayed across the meadowlands.  In a word, the boy was at peace.  Here, he found himself in his element and thoroughly enjoying the day.

Not far from the sprightly boy, a faded brown satchel lay in the grass.  Inside, it was filled with Pan’s treasures, the sides of the bag swelling with his collection.  Of course, that wasn’t everything the boy had… for he kept a series of caves scattered about, where he could store his more precious wares.  One such place was not far from here, deep in the Tinea Swamp.  He’d spent some time over the past several days gathering skunk cabbage from the water’s edges.  It was a foul plant, and he’d had to breathe through his mouth to avoid gagging as he scraped the leaves from the muck.  Still, the boy knew that the plant was valuable – it was written in his book of herbs as a healing plant, so he collected it much like he’d collected the others.

The flowers that dotted Sunsurro Fields were a pleasant sort of change for the boy, and he carefully extracted some in vibrant blue and pink hues.  Some, he would use for healing… but others he just liked the look of.  Without a care as to how “girly” it looked, he plaited a few into his tail, smiling at the way they looked so cheerful against the snowy white of his fur.  As he looked around, listening to the bird song, Pan heard a nearby rustle in the tall grass. 

Who’s there!? the boy challenged with a grin.  Are you a pirate?!?

Pan rose to his feet into a mock fighting stance, spinning around and laughing as his flower laden tail whipped about him like a flag.  Come out you great codfish, and meet your fate!  Nevermind that the boy was simply playing and truly didn’t expect someone to respond… but someone was indeed watching… and hopefully he didn’t scare the girl with his burly words.

the vagabond adventurer
character by firefly
html by castlegraphics;
image by franknsteins


@Fiona


RE: All the world is made of faith, and trust, and pixie dust - Florentine - 01-26-2019

i'm a pretty flower girl
check out my pretty flower curls



Time works in mysterious ways and Florentine is not privy to its plans. So it is that when Pan’s laughter came bubbling across the meadow, her heart skipped a beat. The boy had returned, snow white and sea-green and she could never miss his laughter that rolled with joy and light across Terrastella.
 
Without a thought Florentine is turning, moving toward him as a moth to a flame. For what else could ever summon her so wholly and completely?
 
Oh the flower girl is running, she might fly, were her wing right again, were its healing not more complete.  But, the closer she gets, the more she slows as if this might be a trick of her eyes. Yet Novus is not the Rift, it does not twist Time and Magic is such terrible ways. No, Time and Magic are nothing here and this boy, this eternal friend is real and a live and so very here.
 
The gilded girl steps from the brush and when she sees her friend oh how she feels her age – was this what her mother felt too? Karou, the woman of the desert, the gazelle girl who had once called this boy her best friend too…
 
“Never!” She laughs at his accusations stamps a scarred, slender limb upon the grasses. “I am a Wendybird.” The girl huffs her chin tipping up in defiance. But oh how much Florentine has changed since she danced and played with Pan upon the beach shores. Back then she was another child, she was complete with no scars, no disformed wing to cradle at her side from a terrible adventure.
 
“You came back, Pan.” Flora breathes, heavy and soft and so aching. Why now? Why when she is about to go? Was this her fate? To leave all she loved behind? If her father returned now too, Florentine knows she might never be able to leave. “I am glad you are here.” She breathes stepping forward, to brush lips over the scruff of his forelock. “I have missed you so very, very much.”

@Pan 
florentine
rocking your pretty flower world



RE: All the world is made of faith, and trust, and pixie dust - Pan - 01-27-2019

Pan

She was magnificent – everything he had dreamt of, and more.  The boy gulps audibly as Florentine steps closer, his eyes perhaps a bit misty as he watches her – the one from his dreams.  She had haunted him for as long as he could remember, with her sprightly laugh and her mischievous antics.  But the, there is something different about the Florentine that steps in front of him now… something wisened.

You’re all grown up…  He cannot remember her name, or even the fact that he knew her in real life.  All Pan knows is that in his dreams, she is a girl.  The woman who looks at him now, is every bit an adult.  There is something world-weary about her that does not show in the immortal boy.  Yes, Pan is exactly as he was when she’d met him – and exactly as he was for the many years he’d been around before that.  It’s not clear how long the scaled adventurer has roamed this earth, only that he’s been a boy forever – and will be a boy forever to come.

Do you have the dreams too?  Perhaps that’s where the gilded girl knew him from… for now the boy is questioning if his dreams were ever really dreams at all.  His heart leaps for a moment, as he wonders whether the adventures were real.  Swallowing deeply, the crystal vial filled with liquid stardust bobs at his throat as he reaches into his well-worn satchel to draw out a tiny silvered object.  Without a word, the boy hands Florentine a tiny thimble – unknowing that it is she who had once handed it to him.

Do you remember, what came before…?  His eyes are pleading for her to explain the madness to him – for something to make sense of the confusion which shrouded his every waking moment.  For Pan was something of a shell now, lost and far from understanding who he was.  Gone are his memories of time travel in the rift tide.  Gone are his memories of Oliver, and Rook, and Neverland.  Gone are his endless stories, unless you counted those he recounted about dreams… but the boy is still very much the same – bright and eager, ready to take on the world.

the vagabond adventurer
character by firefly
html by castlegraphics;
image by franknsteins

@Florentine