Off shores of perfection lies the truth and remanence of imperfections a top of a hidden cove of coral. Home of the currently gathered imperfections to otherwise perfect happy endings. Buildings half hazardly built for the viewed scum of the world who fought against heroes, princes, and princesses to be their future home. The ground was shaky, firm but infertile.
As the prison was being built, deep below though perceived murky water, two eggs the size of a man's palm. Each were attached to the underside of coral, small bodies quivering inside the gel like egg. One cracking slightly. A small hand soon came out of the egg and opened and closed in the salt water. The other soon followed, both individuals leaving their eggs to reveal pale skin and stark white hair and their lower half of their body was a shock, colored an inky black, each boy had eight legs that quickly attached to the coral, not hesitating to slide in and hide from the natural predators of the deep.
The decree from King Adam took a year to capture and detain the villainous individuals from all over the land of Audaron. Two or so years after, King Adam had been blessed with his queen with the birth of his infant son Ben. In fact, many heroes and royals were having children around the same time. Little did anyone realize, villains were also having little brats, Captain Hook had even knocked up a woman before they were both dragged to the island if only to give birth nine months later to a small boy. The boy was about two, incredibly grimy and never really watched by adults dealing with their own birthings and lives.
He was also incredibly curious as many young tots were. It was with this curiousity he found a loose board in a building on the edge of the Ilse and found a small hole he could easily slide down into.
He had no idea that by sliding into the unknown, he had changed the future of the children of the isle, forever.
Fifteen years later.
Where the outside was rough and unfriendly to the world, the island's core held a diamond of a flourishing young society made from the progeny of criminals.
"Get everyone gathered! We'll be having a meeting within the hour!" A young man cried out. His skin a light bronzed color, and his hair, a dark curly mess held back by a bandana and worn out pirate's hat, "That means you too Samuel!"
"Shut up Morgan," another boy with shaggy blond hair growled, "If I don't want to go to one of your blasted meetings then I won't."
"Everyone means you too matey!" Morgan laughed pulling Samuel off the ground. Samuel glowered at Morgan and began trying to squirm his way out of the older and taller boy's grasp, "You're not getting out of this one!"
"Put me down you cod cuddling-!"
"Don't finish! We got single digits here, you salty dog! Watch that sailer's mouth of yours!"
Samuel grumbled but didn't say anything anyone else could hear. Morgan's grin grew as he dragged him over towards a lower cavern beneath the Ilse. Truly, a place of wonders where many spent their time. Half of the floor was dry, plenty good for those who perfered not getting wet outside bathing. The other half plunged downward into a a shimmering unreal light from mirrors placed at the bottom among clams and mussels to take in as much light as possible.
Morgan sat Samuel front and center of the upper ridge of the lower area. Samuel turned his head away from Morgan in irritation. Morgan just rolled his eyes and placed a quick kiss to his temple. Samuel slapped Morgan's fleeting form.
"Ass," Samuel whispered. He didn't bother getting up though. It would be a waste of time anyway. He sat and let his eyes wander to the individuals gathering for Morgan's meeting. All youths younger than sixteen. Hell, he was only fourteen in comparison to Morgan's seventeen years. And Morgan was the third eldest, as well as the gatherer of the children. Nevermind he made Samuel keep track of who was related to who.
To be fair, Morgan's handwriting was limited to a messy cursive from his young years of trying to mimic and impress his dad with his fancy handwriting. He had given up once he had realized his dad would only spend his time with a bottle of Captain Morgan smuggled to the island by corrupt guards who enjoyed watching criminals become sad, stumbling, drunks.
Heh, Captain Hook drinking Captain Morgan while ignoring his son, little Morgan. Not that Samuel could talk, being the son of Catain Hook's first mate Smee. It was strange, especially with being constantly "recruited" to be his first mate.
"Morning Samuel," a young voice greeted. He slightly turned his head and quirked his eyes at the individual who had approached him. There stood a rugged fifteen year old boy with a slight five-o clock shadow. His limbs were lean and held no form of visible baby fat. His hair, was cut short, only through years of knowing him could one recognize the wave of his tresses.
"Jerrard," Samuel greeted. He gestured next to where he sat on dry rock. The French boy gave a slight tilt of his head affirmative before sitting next to him.
"Another meeting from our captain?"
"He may be your captain. But he ain't mine."
"Sure he isn't Sam."
"It's Samuel."
"Right. Sorry."
The two boys sat in silence as footsteps filed in to the waterfront of the cavern. Not one person under the age of twenty was visible. In fact, Morgan appeared to be the oldest among them. He was scooping up the little ones who didn't want to move and calling the older and less reluctant ones towards the water front for their bimonthly meetings. Or, what the old clock they had told them it had been about fourteen days. Many never ventured to the surface in fear of what may become of them.
Afraid of their parents, their parents' enemies, the horrors of the insane minds of ensnared criminals.
Samuel was drawn from his slight musing to notice the Hun children had arrived with an old blanket made from tattered scraps of fur. There were about seventeen children, their ages no older than twelve and no younger than six. The eldest two, a boy and girl, sat on opposite ends of the blanket. The girl was a hard faced childish with a strong focus and narrowed eyes. Her name was Han. The boy had wider eyes and was scrambling to keep all the young Hun children together. His name was Shen.
Near them was a young boy, fourteen like Samuel, of apparent British decent with an angular face and was by far one of the cleanest children. He seemed to have an obsession with keeping things and people, presentable" if his abnormally clean shoes were any indication. Even the way he spoke held an air of aristocracy despite his more, serving personality. If not for the show and case of his father when he was found in a crate half starved, not one person on the island would think he was the son of a criminal. Young Edwin liked to keep it that way.
Samuel let his eyes wander though as more children poured in. Their little society of fourty nine children who had survived childbirth and infancy gathered together.
Although, peculiar as the Tremaine family seemed tighter knit than normal. Catherine was biting her nails in what appeared to be worry next to her younger and far more aloof brother Andrew. Their cousin, David stood with a certain determined look on his face that clashed with the playful pink tunic he was wearing. He was carrying a large blanket in his arms that appeared to be the point of discussion between the three.
Eh, he was sure he'd find out soon enough. Their little community was far too small to keep secrets for very long.
"Hello! Is everyone here?" Morgan called out near the water. There was a quiet affirmative as the last of the stragglers came in including the "monster" children. The four born of decidedly the most wicked and vile of the villains imprissoned on the Ilse. Carlos of Cruella, Evie of the Evil Queen, Jay of Jafar, and Mal of Maleficent.
On the surface at least. Truthfully, the children were no more vile or wicked then any other child.
"C'mon you two, heads up out of the water," Morgan abruptly yelled at the water. Not one person was surprised. The two were always a bit tricky to get for meetings as they hid below. Two pairs of grayish-purple toned hands gripped the rocks at the shore pulling equally grayish skinned torsos out of the water. Both had a shock of wild white hair and thin frames. Their back ends were then turned and sat on the rock, showing a bizarre black substance. To those who knew, their lower half seemed reminiscent of an octopus. Down to the suction cups on each of their eight tentacles. They were identical in every manner, except for a black tattoo on the upper arm in the shape of a band on one of them.
"Fantastic. So glad you could join us Ursa and Iden. As you all know, it has been fourteen days since our last meeting. Our clams are growing pretty fast. We made a pretty good trade with everybody upstairs. The got a couple pounds of mussels... We got some computer parts-"
There was a cheer from some of the more tech driven children like Carlos.
"-Some stale bread, and a new kid! Everybody, please give a warm welcome to David's little sister, Dakota Tremaine!"
The three Tremaines stood at a distance so everyone could see the blanket being moved, showing a sleeping four year girl, drooling on her sixteen year old brother.
"I think we made a pretty good trade don't you?"
There was a quiet cheer for the sleepy little girl. There was never a sad moment when a new child joined them away from their parents. They were the lost generation under the Ilse.
A young guard ran towards the castle of King Adam with shock and slight desperation on his face. He was gasping as he entered the grand structure, and made his way to the throne room. His face was red, dripping with sweat under the layers of required uniform as he entered the room, interrupting a conversation between the King, his queen, and his son.
"Your magesty!"
The three stopped and looked at the guard with curiousity, worry and confusion.
"Yes?" King Adam questioned. The guard gasped for air for a minute before standing tall.
"Sire, Anastasia Tremaine has been seen with a four year old child."
Only the guard's gasping could be heard as the three stood in shock.
"A child? On the Ilse?" King Adam spoke in disbelief. Not one child had ever been noted from the deliveries of supplies to the villains. Not once had a pregnancy been mentioned. And yet a child has been there for four years? Among such villains.
Pin his moment of trying to organize his mind, his son brought a more puzzling question to mind.
"Is she okay?"
"I-I don't know sire. We just saw the young Lady Tremaine carry her off towards the edge of the Ilse. We tried to follow but... Villains, you know."
The once calm atmosphere felt bleak.
"We need to save this child."
Gah! This needs to stop happening. Ideas won't leave me alone. I just want to nap...