Hey guys! I have to be honest, this little clip I have for you here isn't what I had intended on writing, but it popped into my head and forced me to write it. I'm not really even sure where the idea came from, I had been thinking about the story that I wanted to write out today and post up for you all, and then this guy popped into my head, and just took over every thought previously held.

Without further ado, here you all are.

**********

The boy raced through the forest, the bloody stump of his right arm cradled to his chest. He was a scrawny youth of maybe fifteen, only five and a half feet tall. His shoulder length, curly black hair was pulled back and tied in a loose ponytail. He wore a pair of stained tan slacks and the filthy remains of what had once been a nice dress shirt, though the right sleeve had been ripped off and tied around his wrist where his hand had been cut off. He heard the shouts behind him as he crashed through the thick brush, howls of open fury driving him on. Though his muscles burned from his frenzied charge, and his lungs screamed agony at him, he dared not pause even for a moment. To do so would only invite certain death. The others were closing in on him, and he could only imagine what they would do if they caught him. If only I could find my way back to the ship. He thought desperately, I could sail away from them, and be safe, even if for only a little while. Up ahead he saw an opening in the treeline, and he surged on, pushing every ounce of energy he could into his frantic escape. The voices and loud shrieks behind him slowed and died out as he exploded from the wood.

He knew immediately upon exiting the forest that his luck had run out. Ahead of him was only the edge of a cliff, a straight seventy foot drop into the treacherous sea below. If he didn't hit the rocks on the way down, he'd most likely be dashed upon them by the crashing waves. He stood at the edge, staring down for several seconds before he realized that he was no longer being followed, and turned back to see what why not, cradling his bloody arm with his left hand. Dimly, he noted the the bleeding had finally been staunched by the remains of the sleeve he had tied around the end of his wrist.

The others stood at the edge of the forest, silent, watching. Each of them was a fearsome sight to behold, clad in animal furs and skins, with wicked looking weapons and harsh trophies of a life in the dark forest adorning each boy, anyone in their right mind would be frightened looking at the group. The injured boy knew from experience that there leader was even more terrifying then any of the assembled gathering before him though. Clearly they were waiting for something, though what, he wasn't sure of. Suddenly, he realized with a start that someone was missing. Him. That's what they were all waiting for. None of them wanted to be the one to attempt to steal his death from their leader.

With a sudden quiet rustling of brush, a young man emerged from the forest, directly in the center of the motley group. He strode out into the open, clearly unconcerned, anticipating what was to come. He stopped a half dozen paces from the injured boy and stood completely still. He appeared to be about sixteen or seventeen, tall and lithe, wearing a jerkin and breeches of dyed green leather. On his left hip hung a short sword, and a small dagger rested on his left. An angelic smile crossed his face, giving him the appearance of a close friend, someone who could be trusted. Nothing could be farther from the truth the injured boy knew. That smile was the same one that appeared right before some of the cruelest acts he had ever witnessed happened. Silence reigned in the open area, the two boys staring at each other, the others watching them from the treeline.

After what seemed like an eternity, the leather clad boy spoke, his voice disarmingly sweet. "James. What do you think your doing? Did you think that you could really get away with what you tried?" The smile and placating voice made the injured boy desperately want to trust the youth in front of him.

"I saw what you did. I couldn't just stand by and watch you hurt people over and over." He bit out. "You're a monster, however much nobody else wants to see it. You've kidnapped, murdered, lied and cheated to keep your perfect little world here, and I can't just sit back and watch it continue! I had to do something, even if it came to this!" James yelled back at him. The leather clad youth stepped forward, face darkening into a scowl that was truly terrifying.

"You really think that any of them would believe such things about me?" He roared. "I rescued them, and you, from certain doom! If I hadn't come and taken each and every one of you, you would all be dead!" He howled in fury. "And then you thank me like this? Betraying me?Us? You're the real monster here! I wont let you threaten my family James. If you don't stand with me, then you stand against me. I'll kill you!" He took a step forward, pulling his sword out with a lightning quick motion.  With that, he started forward, raising the sword up high. James stepped back quickly to the edge of the cliff face.

"I won't let you have the satisfaction. Someday I will stop you. I promise you this." With that, he stepped back out into the void and plummeted out of sight. All of the boys, including the sword wielding one rushed forward to the cliff edge, looking over, trying to spot the boy who had leaped off. Though they watched for several minutes, they saw no sign of him, alive or dead.

**********

With a strangled cry, James launched himself up in his bed. It took him several second to realize where he was, safe in his own bed, and not standing atop that cliff face once more. That had been more then thirty years ago, and still the nightmares of that moment haunted him. He spun to the side and lowered his feet off the bed to rest against the rough wood floor. Though rough to the touch, and cool, the feel of the wood was reassuring, a constant, solid reminder that he was still alive. Idly, he ran his left hand over the metal cap on his left, a grim reminder of the past, and of the future he was trying to save. Suddenly, the door burst open, and a small portly fellow hurried in carrying a lantern. "Captain? Captain, you alright?" He called out, looking at James. 

"I've told you not to call me that a thousand times Bill." Wearily, James rubbed his eyes, the bright light a sudden shock to him in his still sleep addled state. "You're my oldest friend, just call me James." 

"Of course Captain. Whatever you say." Came the concerned reply. James gave up, for the thousandth time.

"Yes Bill, I'm alright. Just a bad dream. I'll be trying to get back to sleep now, you should do the same." With that, James turned back onto the bed and laid back down. Muttering a calm goodnight, Bill retreated, taking his lamp with him. James lay on his back for several minutes, trying unsuccessfully to put the dream out of his head. "I will stop you." He said quietly into the darkness. "If it's the last thing I do, I will stop you and the pain you bring to the world Peter Pan."

**********

So, I don't know about any of you, but I really enjoyed that little endeavor. If any of you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it, let me know and I'll continue it at some point. For now though, I must bid thee all farewell and adieu.

-Ronoxym.

Hello to all of you! I am Ronoxym, and its a true pleasure to be starting this blog of my very own. If you are indeed reading this, you probably picked up the link from someone far more popular then I, and thank you for joining me here! After having read my friends for so long, and having her and several others around me inspired so greatly to actually get into writing lately, I am now here for your reading pleasure!

So, my good friend LycoRogue has been working with me on a collaboration that has been bouncing around in my head for some time, and about two or three weeks ago, we talked so much about it that it finally got me to get up off of my butt and finally get down to it and start writing it. Long story short, this story had been meant to be about three to five pages, just a brief little slice of life scene that I was going to bang out and send over to her for our mutual enjoyment...

It is currently sixteen pages long! Sixteen! This stupid thing was supposed to be a quick little afternoon jaunt into the mind of my character and hers in one brief interaction. Now, it has turned into us having a google doc going where we are commenting back and forth, over and over, mulling this thing out, editing, re-editing, correcting each other, on and on and on! (I also suspect that, if Lyco is anything as much like me as my lovely fiance jokes, then she also is raging back at me occasionally, though in her case, its probably because I haven't been active on the forum as of late.)

 So this collaboration that we have going? Best part about it? It's barely halfway done at this point, even if it only goes to the point that I had planned on it going to. To be perfectly honest, it probably will go far beyond what I had originally intended, and I'm starting to get a little frightened by it now. Basically, what's going on in this story is that both Lyco and I have characters on an Alternate Universe based X-Men text based role-playing forum. My character left the Xavier institute right before it was attacked, and he spent two years working with the group that attacked it (though he didn't know about that until he came back). After he came back, my character found that Lyco's hates him, blaming him for what happened. Because of this, he convinces her to read his mind (she's a telepathic individual, among other things.) The story starts with him convincing her to do so, and of what ensues afterwards. At page thirteen in this little slice of life endeavor, we finally worked the story up to her actually starting to look into his mind, and now we are into the nitty-gritty of what happens when she does that. 

We are both extremely excited about this whole thing, and neither of us can really wait to see where it goes. I say that we can't wait to "see where it goes" because we are both character driven writers, our writing styles are similar in that we have our characters appear before us (in our minds obviously) and they tell us our story, not like my wonderful fiance, who sits and writes with a methodical purpose, telling her characters where to go and what to do, and if they wont do it, then she finds a way around them (very George R.R. Martin of her I say). To me its rather impressive to see her do that, because there is no way I could ever do it. ADHD just doesn't allow someone to sit there and work a methodical schedule type thing. My work style is much more free form, with the story revealing itself to me, sometimes even as I am putting it to the written page. All of that being said, a new story has been forming in my head for a while, which I will be giving all of you readers an opening section of in the next couple of days. 

To the few of you that are reading this, this has been most enjoyable, and I hope to see you again soon when I give you all the first scene!

-Rono