entrancelogs | OPEN | the "Lost People" mingle!

OPEN | the "Lost People" mingle!

Who: Every lonely person with a story to tell! (Check out the OOC details if you haven't yet!) Oh, and Peter Pan (

boyhood), too.
Where: Mingles are out on the mansion grounds.
When: June 4th-6th, night.
Rating: PG-13? We'll see.
Summary: Peter is up to old tricks. Using his influence as the Pied Piper, Peter gathers together everyone in Wonderland he can for a celebration. Are you ready to make some new friends, sad sacks? This doubles as a convenient excuse to see how many vulnerable children there are.
The Story:

So you heard a little tune on the air and you've come to play! The more, the merrier. Night 1 isn't strictly an action event, but if you'd like to have your characters react, or just want to thread something out for that time, go for it. Night 2 and Night 3 are where the action's at. The prompts are general ideas of what's going on!

Anyone who isn't invited is going to find they can't figure out where everyone's disappeared to, exactly, and if they do go to a location, it's going to look like nothing's going on. Strange, huh? For those who are invited, he only rule is this: mingle to your hearts' content! Make new posts, tag into things, do what makes the most fun!

After each night, everyone will be free to disperse before the sun comes up. They'll wake up in their beds feeling refreshed, with the pleasant, surreal sense they've just had a sweet dream.

Except it wasn't really a dream, was it?

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[ to be truly "lost" could have a thousand definitions, but surely, a young man who hides his identity and longs to roam with the wolves, who finds his greatest enjoyment in dreams and in the touch of a weirwood tree would count as one of them.

bran stark cannot run wild, simply because he cannot run; were he summer, surely, he would be frolicking as only a wild wolf could. instead, he is confined to his chaircart, and though he is grateful for the device to allow his movement, it is only to a point. still, it's enough to get him to the sound of the pipes, and the stark prince finds his chair parked just outside the fire, close enough to follow the movement of the other children (or manchildren, in alfred's case) but far back where he cannot be involved. there is no bad feeling in his gut that worries him, no notion that any of this could be bad; there is only a little bit of jealousy, a pining need to be joining the rest of the boys. he could have bested them all in tree climbing, could have outran them all on footraces, and now?

now he sits, silently, watching the festivities go about with a look of longing in his blue eyes. ]

What are you doing?

_{[The curious question sounds out from the master of ceremonies himself, who seems to have somehow snuck up behind Bran and is now leaning on his chair with one hand. Peter has a way of coming and going without so much as a warning, almost like magic.

Exactly like magic.

And now here he is to greet one of his children like any good host. He steps around Bran to face him. If Peter ever seems to change his clothes, it doesn't look it. He's still the same from the day Bran had announced Jojen's sickness, the only difference being the merry light in his eyes.]}

You won't get anywhere lazing around like that.

[ bran starts when someone speaks up behind him, lost in his own thoughts--he recognizes it to be that of the man he spoke with upon jojen's sickness, and the one he had seen the night before. this was his party, as it were, and bran couldn't quite explain why he'd found himself here, but here he was, staring at the boy whom he'd thought was one of his very own bannermen at first glance.

the comment hurts, a little, and he keeps his stoic expression even if his stomach churns unhappily at the "lazing around". ] I am unable to walk, my lord, and though your festivities are wonderful, I can only watch.

[ but oh, how he'd love to join. ~~don't do it bran run~~ ]

_{[Peter's a little impressed. He'd been wondering if he'd get a reaction, regardless of how Bran's injury had come about. A boy born unable to walk dreams of what he's never had, and a boy who's lost the chance dreams of what he can no longer do.

Good thing Pan is in the business of dreams--creating them, breaking them, making them come true.]}

Really.

_{[He interjects his words with skepticism, like Bran had just told him a fib. Smiling at the corners of his mouth, he bends to be more on a eye with Bran.]}

I'm not so sure about that. And I didn't make this happen so a boy who deserves a bit fun can't have it. _{[He eyes the lower half of Bran's body.]} Have you ever thought being in a world of magic might give you the chance to do something about those legs of yours? There's very little it can't do.

_{[Healing injuries? Well within magic's capacity, as well as his own. Lifting his gaze back up, he smiles for a second longer before offering a hand to Bran.]}

Come on, a boy needs his play.

[ if there is one thing bran desperately, desperately hopes for in his journey to the north, it's that the great magic of the three eyed raven could fix his legs. over and over he's cawed at him at his dreams, told him he could fly, and bran thinks that it must mean he will become a good soldier as he wanted to be. a good king, now, a king who would fight battles and win wars, a king like robb, who was only bested because his enemies had to cheat.

otherwise, he would just be bran the broken, the poor little cripple boy, who could never live up to his family's great name. what kind of stark was he if he could not fight, could not draw a bow as he'd done as a child? in his dreams he is a good shot, and he wonders if those fortell the future as well, that someday, he will be great.

so there's hope as he eyes the young man--peter pan, as he'd called himself--and considers what he's saying. the idea of magic to solve his problem balls up in his chest with a great, tumultuous warmth, because he could not reach the three eyed raven here as he could in the north and bran has to choose to make a decision--to trust this peter pan, or not?

he says he could fix his legs, and so brandon stark reaches forward and clasps his hand in his. ]

_{[Hope is powerful. Hope is on its way to being belief, a little spark that could become a flame.

Peter's smile grows as Bran takes a leap of faith that, at least for the time being, involves very little cost. He goes to stand and as he does so, he touches the boy's knee with his other hand, an innocuous brush of contact by all accounts. He doesn't cast his power out in a flourish--no glow, no spell word to signal healing magic. The surprise is more fun, and the boy will find that out for himself as Peter pulls himself to his full height and leads Bran with him.

He's stronger than his own frail-looking body might suggest; he won't have a problem taking Bran's weight if Bran hesitates like a nervous foal finding its feet, but he won't have to worry. The lower half of his body will be as if it was never injured.

Perfectly, unquestionably normal.]}

[ bran knows this song and dance. he knows if he tries to stand, his useless legs will not work, and he'll fall to the ground, to be laughed at or cursed or gods only knew what. he has so little hope that this could work, but when peter clasps his hand and pulls him up, bran's foot touches the ground and he feels it.

the stark prince's eyes go impossibly wide, and he looks down just as his other foot comes out of the chair and plants on the ground. his legs are weak from disuse and he can feel his knees trembling--he can feel it!--but brandon stark is a standing boy, holding his weight up on his own two feet.

tears catch in his throat and he's suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling of it, and bran jerks his head up to look at peter pan with an astonished expression, nothing if not awestruck, as all of his dreams, every childish, foolish hope he's ever had realizes itself and bran smiles, then, for what feels like the first time in ages. he smiles so widely tears start to drip down his cheeks, and bran stumbles for just a second on his own feet as if he were testing them again. he brings a hand up to scrub at his cheeks, but barely does so for fear of losing this the moment he looks away.

here, away from his chair, away from the basket and hodor and ridiculing he had experienced, here he is a whole person. no longer bran the broken, he stands upon his own two feet, and all he can do is cry. out of relief, out of joy, the gods only know. is this what awaits him in the north? the ability to be a knight like he'd always wanted, to be a good and true king like winterfell deserved.

he hiccups, finally, and wipes at his cheeks as he turns that megawatt smile on peter, murmuring-- ] This isn't a dream, is it?

_{[The older boy grins.]}

See. You'd be surprised where a little belief can get you.

_{[Out of a prison made of your own body, even. Peter lets go and steps to the side, giving Bran free reign. He hasn't had cause to make many boys cry from joy. The tears are just as wet and sticky as when the Lost Boys had cried themselves to sleep at night.

He folds his arms across his chest.]}

No, it's not. _{[He tilts his head then, smile softer than Bran's.]} But it's just a taste of the possibilities. It'll wear off. Keep in mind, a more permanent miracle will require a higher cost.

_{[It's a shade of the truth. Peter might fool people about the fine print, but he won't hide that there is some.]}

Tonight, however, I'll take a guess and say you're price is going to be... _{[He pretends to think before pointing at Bran.]} ... making the most of it! Go on, don't waste your time.

( Bran isn't the only one sitting out. Quinn had been enjoying the festivities since she'd arrived - talking, dancing and laughing. It had been a while since she'd felt that happy, and that involved. It's nice having friends, and feeling as if you can be free. Everything that she'd been sad about before - losing everything in her life seemed to have disappeared.

It's part way through dancing when Quinn turns and spots Bran, out to the side alone. It's sad to see someone out there, not involved. He's there, and should be part of it.

Quinn steps away from the song, a smile still on her face as she approaches Bran. If he doesn't want to go closer she'll sit with him and keep him company. Keep him involved )

You should come over. It's been great.

[ the woman who approaches is very lovely, bran thinks--she dresses in the same clothes as many of the people around the mansion, strange and far different than anything he's ever seen, and it's strangely comforting. bran thinks that seeing the odd people from different realms are far better than ones from home--he fears for his life in the woods, and here, there is not much to do so. the people of wonderland have been good and kind to him, and this woman is no exception.

bowing his head in greeting, he feels a little bitter, as he always does when people around him dance and talk and laugh--even when they walk. they are things he will never do, and though he will be strong and refuses to stay in his bed, it still hurts to see, to carry on. ] You are very kind, my lady, but I cannot.

I think you could. ( She'd try and help if the ground made it a little difficult, but only if he wanted to. Otherwise- ) Or I could sit with you. It's a little bit exhausting.

( Fun is exhausting, who knew. But her feet hurt and maybe it would be nice to just sit and talk for a little while, to watch others have fun )

I haven't seen you around before.

I haven't as well. [ he gives her a small smile, just enough to be polite, and ducks his head down a little. bran still wishes to join them, to run and fight and play with the boys and girls as he had in winterfell, but some company may do well.

(he finds himself wishing fiercely for hodor, as well--at least then he could move.) ] My name is Bran, my lady, and you are well met. [ only bran. ] I've only been in Wonderland for a fortnight, I believe.

It's just Quinn.

( But he was sweet - polite. Not from here or anywhere that she knew, not to call her a lady and say that she was well met. It was definitely different.

She takes the conversation as an opportunity to sit down next to him, legs tucked to the side of her )

That's not long. Nothing's happened at least - you got it easy getting here.

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OPEN | the "Lost People" mingle!

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