ONE: in which paint and pixies do not mix well [action]
[A dazzling streak of light, clearly visible in even the brightest spots of sunlight, darts around the Wonderland district. Those with quick enough eyes will be able to discern a little figure amidst the brightest point of the spark: a girl with a low-cut leaf dress and an expression of fear and rage on her sharp little features. Being dragged to Splendor without so much as a by-your-leave has left Tinker Bell feeling more embarrassed than anything and she isn't entirely unconvinced that this isn't all some peculiar and artful prank of Peter’s. She babbles angrily, her voice shrill in the heads of those who hear her her translation through the seals and accompanied with the deceptively-pleasant tinkling of little bells:]
How dare you, all of you! Where am I? Put me back at once!
[and then, as if to add insult to injury, Tink has the bad fortune to run in to a particularly large bubble. It explodes with a theatrical pop and splatters everywhere, drenching the bewildered fairy in thick pink paint from wingtip to toes. Weighed down by the paint Tinker Bell plummets downwards in a glittery pink mess, shrieking in indignation as she spirals down, until she inelegantly falls to the ground in a damp heap of paint and clumpy fairy dust]
How dare you, all of you! Where am I? Put me back at once!
[and then, as if to add insult to injury, Tink has the bad fortune to run in to a particularly large bubble. It explodes with a theatrical pop and splatters everywhere, drenching the bewildered fairy in thick pink paint from wingtip to toes. Weighed down by the paint Tinker Bell plummets downwards in a glittery pink mess, shrieking in indignation as she spirals down, until she inelegantly falls to the ground in a damp heap of paint and clumpy fairy dust]