PEREGRINE "PIP", DISTRICT THIRTEEN

PEREGRINE
"PIP" .

“`IF YOU COULD ONLY SEE THE BEAST YOU'VE MADE OF ME”
I held it in but now you've set it running free.

AGE . Thought to be anywhere from Sixteen to Eighteen.
GENDER . Male.
DISTRICT . District Thirteen.
OCCUPATION . None.
SEXUALITY . Undefined.
TALKING . Brushed Gold
DOING . Into
DEEP THOUGHT . Brushed Gold
HEARING . Brushed Gold


APPEARANCE .

“A MAN WHO'S PURE OF HEART AND SAYS HIS PRAYERS BY NIGHT”
May still become a wolf when the autumn moon is bright.

You stand in front of one of those things that they call a me-ror, and you still think it's a piece of lake frozen in place, so that you can see a reflection. Your eyes that are so dark they appear to be black, travel up to look at the pink head cover that they gave you when you came here. You like it because it's bright, and it has a funny little pompom on the other end. Sometimes when things get too stressful, you can pull it over your eyes to hide. But today you pull it off your head to reveal the big fluff of hair underneath. It's poofy and slightly wavy, but not curly. The bleaching the sun always gives it in the summer months is slowly fading away, back to it's black as coal colour. It covers your ears, and trails a bit down the back of your neck, to where it can tickle you freely. The cut is bad, because you always do it yourself, with your knife, and by pulling. But now that you're here, in this underground den, they tried to fix it up a little. It's shown in the way your bangs aren't exactly straight because you growled until they stopped cutting at you.

Although your hair, is usually in a disarray, yes, you know what I'm talking about when I point out the bits of things caught in your hair. Don't tilt your head at me in confusion young man, you are not a puppy. Your eyes are always glinting with something, whether it be happiness, fear, anger, or cunning, people can always see what you are about through your eyes. Picture yourself as a book. Well, you are a book with the cover ripped off, and you are yellowed by weather. You have almond shaped eyes, although they can almost be described as wolf-like in the way that they are usually always wide open and wary, unless you are smelling something in the air, because then they are slightly closed. It's hard to discern the pupil from the colour because they might as well be the same. Instead of this making you appear to be scary, it looks quite endearing on you.

Your nose is set above two plump lips, giving you a rather boyish appearance, which makes it difficult to figure out your exact age, naughty boy. Your lips are usually curled up into a grin, or as you like to call it, baring your teeth. Inside your mouth, your teeth gleam white, kept so by gnawing on sticks like your mother taught you. Because of the gnawing however, they are slightly sharpened, just enough to make tearing easier. Your ears are bigger than most, but stick close to your head as a rule. One time a wolf tooth pierced through your ear, so you left it there, the skin growing back around it in a gruesome way. The infection from it has left the lower half of your left ear pink and puckered around the wound, but since it does not hurt, it does not bother you. Your face is rather angular, a result of your lean appearance. A thin jawline hides under your hat full of hair, making you appear smaller than you really are. Your neck is long and slender, leading down to two shoulders that are neither broad, nor slumping. It's more like the are a slope.

You are all skin, bones, and muscles, wiry things making you walk, although you are quite tough. You stand at the champion height of five inches and ten feet, and weigh a healthy one hundred and twenty five pounds. Your arms and legs are thin, almost girlish really, and your whole body is slender, no fat anywhere, your metabolism is too high for that. The skin on your face is pale and clear, although it was difficult to find at first under all that dirt. Your body however, is covered with little discrepancies here and there, such as bite marks, and faint pink scars. The pads of your feet and the palms of your hands are callused and tough after running around for all your life with no shoes on, and on all fours sometimes to boot. You find it easy to slip down to your feet and hands, and move along quietly. When you walk or run, it is with all stealth, like a wolf. If you were in the woods, no one would probably hear you sneaking up on them for all your practice hunting for your pack.

Your fingers are thin, but not very long. At the end of each digit is your claws, which used to be sharp and pointed, and are now cut very short so you can't scratch people. Sometimes they make you wear mittens because otherwise you grab too much, and then it's safer for the other animals. You also carry a deep suspicion that you have to wear them because then you can't get out of your entrapment. With your hands, you like to hold onto things, the familiar feeling of your fingers curled around your sharp weapons gone with the taking of them. So you like to curl your hand around other things, maybe treasures found on the ground of your new underground den, or even around the hand of other animals, because they have the same grabby things that you do, and you like it best when they curl around your hand back.

Clothes is not one of the new experiences that excites you. It's tight and restricting and you cannot feel the air against your stomach. So at every available opportunity, you struggle your way out of it. The only item of clothing you seem to like is your pink hat, and your really big scarf that you can wrap around so much that it covers your mouth. You like the warmth and fuzziness against your body because it kind of reminds you of your mother, except your mother never lived on your head or around your neck. The collars of shirts scare you, so if you can help it, they are always unbuttoned, or even better yet, really loose clothing so it doesn't stick to your body. You hate it when things become to tight and close. Around your wrist is twisted bits of long, course hairs from your mother, father, and all of your sibling.

PERSONALITY .

“LIKE SOME CHILD POSSESSED, THE BEAST HOWLS IN MY VEINS”
The saints can't help me now the ropes have been unbound.

The fear radiating off of you is almost palpable as you sit, huddled in the corner, as compact as you can make yourself. All there is for you to remember is flashes of how you got here, how you were dragged under by the strange beasts that look like you. There has never been so much fear in your life, and you wish fervently to be back up in the weak sunlight, with your family, with your pack. But as you try and dig yourself into the corner, the side of the den opens in one small space, and a she-beast enters. She sees you, just your eyes as you turn your head to look, and her face softens, a sign of weakness. moving forward slowly, she holds out her hand, and says "We're going to go see your Entrance Therapist now, okay honey?"

The strange sounds and syllables coming out of her mouth make very little sense to you, but she's holding out her paw, and you like to hold paws, especially since these beast's hands seem to fit like a puzzle piece with yours. So you tentatively reach out and take her's as well. It's warm, and nice, and you can hear her heart beating in her chest. Sounds like sorrow mixed with anger, and you cannot imagine why this woman feels this way. She pulls you up, something that you did not expect, and begins to lead you away. A soft whimper of confusion and fear emerges from between your lips. There has been a lot of moving and sounds, and strange syllables flying around your head in the past few hours, since being poked with sharp things.

"Shhh, hon, we'll be there in a jiff."

You still can't understand her, but you can understand the underlying tones of care within, and it calms you a little. Still, as you walk you try and make yourself appear to be small, and quiet, the new den a long hallway, the colour of nothing. She doesn't slow down so that you may mark your territory, and when you begin to tug at the 'clodes' they put on you, she stays your hand. Finally, you arrive at a wall, and she pushes it open after rapping on it. It is an interesting trick, and you decide that you will try it as well, rapping on it as you go in.

"This is your Therapist, Dr. Green. Can you say Green?"

She looks at you in expectation, repeating the last word over and over, so hesitantly, you open your mouth and say, "...Guh......gah.....reeeen?" She bares her teeth at you, wide in response, so you bare your's back, trying to remain dominant. But she doesn't try and turn you over on your stomach, and instead just leaves and closes the door behind her. She doesn't rap on it again. She has let go of your paw, and you feel a loss, so you rub where the warmth was, and then lick your paw, getting her taste and smell on you all over, so you can show it to mother later.

The new beast, a he-beast walks over to you. He is tall, and big with large muscles, so you lie down on your back, and show him your stomach. He doesn't seem to understand, and instead just holds out his paw, and pulls you up when you grasp it. He points to a couch, and tentatively you sniff at it, and then climb onto it, squatting on the couch, weight on the balls of your feet, like you would normally sit with your pack.

"Here, Peregrine, take this and fill it out, alright?

He hands you a white flat thing, with strange symbols on it, and a long thin thing with a point at the end. You stow the pointy thing away in your hat for a weapon to use later when you hunt, and as you do, blue gets on your hand. It's all weird, but when you lick at it, it comes off easily enough. Then you start to bite the paper. It doesn't taste very good, but it is edible, so you decide to eat the whole thing. It isn't very hard for you to trust people, and this he-beast is only helping himself by giving you food. The sound the he-beast is making startles you. His head is tilted back and his eyes slightly closed as you watch him with wide eyes. He makes the sound that you make when you are happy, so you join in as well, tossing your head back in an uproar as happiness surges through you. You like to laugh.

He finishes being happy, and he carefully coaxes the flat sheet out of your hand. Instead he takes some shiny looking flat sheets and holds them in his lap, sitting across from you. "I'm going to show you photos, and you react, alright? Understand?" He looks at you in expectation, so you slowly cock your head to the side, so far, that you might even tip over. With a sharp relief of breath that startles you so much your head snaps right back into position, he lifts the first sheet.

On it is a picture of a tall bark tree thing. In recognition, you scramble toward it and press your paw against it, a low croon slipping out. There are a lot of these up above the dark den, and you used to like to sit in them, and look around. There was one where underneath was your family's den, it smelled like home. You find your croon growing in volume until it almost comes across as a wail. Here is not where you should be, it does not even smell like your pack. In hurried movements, the he-beast begins to scratch things down, symbols, on a sheet of flat, white paper.

Home is trying to get you to remember it's sent, because it feels like it's been a very long time since you were last there. You have had many dens in your lifetime, because your family moves around a lot. But this one does not feel like a home den. It has too many strange and exotic smells. The smells of the he and she-beasts mixed with sweat, and tasty things, and chemicals.

He flips to the next picture, making you scramble back in complete terror. It is a photo of one of the sharp things they stuck you with when you got to this network of dens. A pushy thing at the end, and liquid inside it, sharp and painful as it entered you. An enemy, it is an enemy. It incites a low growl, followed by a bark and you back up against the wall, on your hands and feet, searching for danger. Your growl grows as he stares at the picture and then at you. He does not hear and understand fear like you do, and he cannot understand why you try to hide from it against the wall. It makes you feel pity for the he-beast.

Pity for these wild things that have taken you and led you around when what they fear is nothing. They have incited torture on you, and made you wear ridiculous types of fur all over your perfectly fine skin. You decide readily that you do not like the sharp things one bit, even though sometimes the other beasts are nice. Especially the she-beast before, she reminds you of mother.

Pain, pain is scary.

The doctor puts the scary things down and slowly lowers himself to the ground beside you. "What happened to you?" The rush of anger and sorrow coming off of him, makes you cringe. That's all these new beasts seem to feel around you, so to comfort him, you reach down and lick his paw, unused to the slipperiness of his skin compared to that of the pack. He looks down in surprise and pulls his hand away, baring his teeth. Feeling chagrined, you bare your teeth back and growl, lowly. Hurt fills you from being rebuked.

Angrily, you begin to pull at the furs on you again, the things the the beasts seem to call clodes. You don't like it, and you feel trapped, and you want to get out. Your eyes narrow as you begin to let your inner pack take over. Paws tear at the clodes on your top, buttons snapping as you pull it off of you. Rage and snarling fill your ears as the he-beast holds you down, arms locked against the ground. You snap at him, kicking off your shoes in the process, your new pompom, bobbly ha-at thing on your head falling off as well.

Never have you been one for fighting. But fear fills you, mixed with raw pain at this place, making you drool. Whimpering starts in you as he holds you down, staring into your eyes. The look is recognizable, he wishes to dominate, so you look away, pale face turning a shade of pink with shame and defeat. This place is scary, but interesting, and filled with crazy things, a lot to comprehend and take in. Every moment spent here you're caught between wondering what the heck is going on, and how to escape. So this time you really panic, eyes dilating as you try and struggle. The next moment beasts are running in the door, and a sharp thing is pushed into your arm, and it hurts, pain, ow. Then you're out like a light.

- - - -

When you wake up later, you are back in the first room, and it is now dark. The strange beasts know how to turn the sun on and off. No one ever taught you how to dislike other beasts, your mother only ever taught you how to love. Of course you know what it is to dislike things, such as the sharp thing they like to stick into you, and bees, you don't like bees. But hate is not even in your vocabulary. You're favourite things were the wind, the moon and stars, and the blue sky. Happy memories for you include sleeping in large furry piles of your brother's and sisters, minutes and hours spent howling to the moon, locating your pack. It includes catching your first fish and presenting it to your father, and wrestling playfully with your siblings. It isn't here in this scary place. Your family is somewhere up there, howling at the moon for you, but you are stuck here, wasting away in here in the eternel darkness that is the den. So slowly, you lift up your head and let out a weak howl, trying to signal in some way to them that you are here.

HISTORY .

“YOU ARE THE MOON THAT BREAKS THE NIGHT FOR WHICH I HAVE TO”
Howl, howl, howl, howl, howl, howl, howl.

In this story is all the things you don't know, as well as all the things that you do.

You were born to a human mother, and a human father, or as you like to call them, beasts. One was a simple baker's daughter, the other a newly made Peacekeeper. They had a rather steamy romance, and in their young love, made some foolish mistakes. The result was a forbidden pregnancy, revealed just after your father was shipped out to go and deal with a problem out near District Ten. It was a year long post, and he was never to know about you. Your mother, desperately afraid of what her mother and father would think, ran away to wander the woods, and maybe go and see if the rumored Ferrel and Fletcher would take her in. Although she walked quite far, she never found them, and they never found her. She was doomed to have you alone, in the woods.

A difficult pregnancy left her rather weak, and easily traceable. Peacekeepers sent to flush out the woods were able to find her by the sounds of a mewling baby. It was no happy coincidence however that your father was one of the Peacekeepers to find her. There wasn't much he could do. The standard for wanderers was to take them, avox them, and send them to the capitol, and just because he loved her didn't mean that he could pardon your mother. He was left with the most difficult choice he would ever have to make, and the result wasn't a happy one. Although he could not bear to see her avoxed, he also could not let her die from her weakness. There was also the part of him that had seen and done things for the capitol that had hardened him. Call it a good idea, or a bad one, he hid you away in the tall grasses, and took your mother off to get healed and her tongue cut out.

Your story really begins with your adopted parents finding you. As night began to bring coldness, and hunger began to fill you up so much to the brim that you wailed loudly, they found you out. A long snouts poked at the swaddle of a Peacekeeper jacket that you were wrapped in. A large pink tongue licked you heavily, pressing against you, and soon, you were lift up by the scruff of your tightly bound jacket. The memory is not yours of being carried over the ground, but you can substitute it for one as you grew older. Your adopted father carried you back to his den to placed you beside your new siblings who were all wrestling for your new mother's milk. A curiosity, you were licked, sniffed, and rolled around with until you smelt like them, and then you were accepted, and became a wolf.

Your's was a childhood spent running through tall grasses, rolling in mud, and learning the essential things in life. They taught you to stay away, far away from the large fences made out of stuff that wasn't exactly wood, or stone. You were taught how to hunt, although you didn't like red meat, but adored fish. You grew up running around, free with the wind on your back, and the sun spotting it brown. Summer afternoons were spent wrestling with your siblings, and winter evening spent in a giant heap of your brothers and sisters. As time went on however, your sisters and brothers began to leave you as all wolves must. They appeared from time to time in the woods around you, but never near father's territory. They had new packs, and now they were the mothers and fathers.

One winter, mother went off into the woods and never returned. A week later, her still body was found by you and father in the woods. Father followed soon after, and you were left alone. So you wandered off, trying to find them. The bodies on the ground could not belong to them, because they blinked, panted, and watched. The bodies on the ground were empty, they must have gone to find a new skin because they could not have left you alone. So you went to find them, and you walked for many days, wondering where they might be. Along the way you came across other wolves, and other packs. Sometimes you stayed with them for a while, other times you passed on by. Sometimes they were your old siblings, and you would simply stare at them, and they would stare right on back until you both looked away and continued to go on about your little missions.

One day you came across a wolf, who did not smell like other wolves. She was alone. So she became apart of your pack, and you were the male so it was your pack. She wandered with you far past the tall fences, until you came to a treeless wasteland, sculptures of weird boulders all over the place. nothing is here, yet you wander all over, strange memories of smells all over the place. The female with you is skittish to these smells and wants to leave, but you want to stay, excitement filling you because you can feel in your bones that there is something here. So you wander back and forth, until the beasts come from below, from their big den, and take you down, down, down, leaving your companion behind. You try to run away, but they corner you, and they take you, putting a long fur on you, and it's heavy.

The next thing you knew, you were in a room, on a table, and there was a man poking things into you, and people were putting more furs on you. There was a sense of confusion tinged with sadness in the air, and it made you feel skittish. But the poked you with the sharp needles some more, and you worried about the female pack member, and what became of her. Fear and curiosity took you as you got a feeling of your sense, until it slowly grew, and you began to feel overwhelmed. You couldn't help it, and you lashed out at the lady carefully holding you. Then a flurry of activity, and you were put in the little den that you are in now. After visiting Dr. Green, you were put back. And here you have stayed. They brought you some weird things in a dish, and you ate it all. It was the best thing you ever tasted. The clodes and furs they put on you were surprisingly warm, and finally, you drfited off to sleep, unsure of what the next day would bring.

ANYTHING ELSE ?



OUT OF CHARACTER .

FACE CLAIM .
PARK JAE HYUN • PEREGRIN "PIP"

OTHER CHARACTERS ?

Oh, that's right, I have this.

I, ELEGANT .
have two tumblrs now. One where I roleplay as myself, and another where I roleplay as Legolas. Just because I'm that cool. I know you guys are jealous. Sometimes I get asked about how a cat learned how to type, so then I ask them how a human learned how to type. Feel free to contact me by pm, or ask for my oovoo if you want to get all ~*personal*~

CODEWORD . odair