PETER PAN, DISTRICT 4

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Pronouns: they/them
last seen Apr 17, 2024 14:37:45 GMT -5

“And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.” - steinbeck

PETER PAN, DISTRICT 4 Feb 24, 2014 1:27:28 GMT -5

Post by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ on Feb 24, 2014 1:27:28 GMT -5

peter pan

[presto]

"To
Die
Would
Be
An
Awfully
Big
Adventure"

Peter Pan

N a m e : PETER PECKER PICKED PECKS POTATO PILLSBURY PUNNET PAN
A g e : SEVENTEEN
G e n d e r : MALE
L o c a t i o n : DISTRICT FOUR
F a c e c l a i m : COLE MOHR
J o b : RESIDENT FUCKER-UPPERER
S o n g : --
P l o t : ✮ Second Star To The Right
C o d e w o r d : ødair

[/presto]

Last Edit: Apr 1, 2014 6:51:52 GMT -5 by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

compendium / avriel
clown car / pietro
2022 tracker / 2023 tracker / 2024 tracker

✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
Graphics

5,831 POSTS
Pronouns: they/them
last seen Apr 17, 2024 14:37:45 GMT -5

“And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.” - steinbeck

PETER PAN, DISTRICT 4 Feb 24, 2014 5:25:30 GMT -5

Post by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ on Feb 24, 2014 5:25:30 GMT -5

“Will you stay with me my love?
F o r a n o t h e r d a y
I don't wanna be alone.
W h e n t h e s e b o n e s d e c a y”

When I was exactly four years and one hundred and twenty six days old, it was September ninth and me father packed up his old and battered brown suitcase. He placed in there almost everything he owned, including the old pair of eyeglasses he didn't need but wore because his father had. It was a hot day for spring but the sea breeze came off the ocean and cooled everything down. It was too early in the morning, the air was crisp and me mother was still sleeping then. He ruffled me hair and told me that it wouldn't be for forever, he'd be back one day, after he had some money to feed us with. Then he put in me hand the pocket watch that he had kept in his own pocket for longer than I had lived.

It was faded on the edges from where many generations had held it in their own hands. I was enamored by it right away. Still, it didn't fix the sight of me father limping away down the street to the cries of seabirds. He always moved with a limp from the day he'd been in the training center and gone head to head with another career. He didn't look back once as he walked away. I looked down at the watch in me chubby little hand and tried to close me fingers around it. They didn't make it all the way, they were far too small. He was off to have an adventure, even then I was envious. Something within me always yearned for it.

That was the last time I ever saw the barme basterd. I know it for fact, seeing as me memory is pitch perfect. You scoff, you say that it ain't possible. Well, it is, whether you believe or not. It's the same as anything really. You think things are just gonna stop being what they are because you announce that they can't exist? Yeah? Well who died and made you queen? I sure as hell didn't vote for you. Don't be telling me I can't smoke either, princess. I'm sitting here, pouring me ripreddamned heart out to you and you're gonna harp on me for one little cigarette? You really are such a peach.

Look, I've been able to do this party trick since I was born, I swear, I remember the day I was born. Yeah, there was a big light and it was wet and some asshole smacked me ass. To be honest mate, I don't really give a damn whether you believe me or not. Roll your eyes all you want, does it really matter to you? It don't matter a thing to me. Not one bit. If I shut me eyes right now, I could describe in perfect description what your own pair look like, me brain just does that, it's like it takes a little photo and saves it away for me. I don't ask to look at the memory of what things are or what they look like, me brain does it automatic like. I could tell you the exact way me mother smelt, how she sounded, the last thing she wore on the last day I ever saw her.

We were at the park, really the only one District Four has. I was still four, only twenty days older. me father had not sent any word whatsoever. I was surprised, I should have known the day that she brought me to the park. I'd never been before, she blindfolded me. Idiot that I was, I truly believed that it was because she wanted our destination to be a surprise. I guess I had that blind trust that a little kid has for his mum. You always think you're safe as long as you are hidden among your mother's skirts. She's always the last you'd ever suspect to cause you harm, because she's your mum. How could she ever.

(I've always done me learning through experience.)

I can remember how it happened. I had me father's watch in me pocket, it was ticking against the fabric, against me skin. I used it as an anchor, it's constant tick making me feel safe through me mother's new and frequent rages around the house, shouting abuse about me dad. I didn't tell her about the watch. I thought she'd take it away from me, she hated him so much for walking away. At the time, I still thought he was actually coming back. I've always been daft, but you could cut me some slack there, I was four years old for Ripred's sake.

At the park, she removed the blindfold, and as soon as I saw the platforms and swings laboriously put together by some fathers out of driftwood, excitement tore through me. I wanted to climb as high as possible. I remember running off to play with the other kids, laughing as we played at pirates and peacekeepers. I looked towards the other mums, feeling reassured when I saw me mother there, lovely, stunning even. As a boy with experience when it comes to faces, I can earnestly say that me mother was gorgeous. She had light brown curls that framed her face and eyes greener than seaweed. She was always meticulously dressed in long skirts and corsets that she purchased from the District tailor. I guess she felt that she was never meant for a fallen marriage and a little boy that she couldn't take care of on her own.

The next time I looked for her among the mothers, she was gone. I couldn't see the maroon of her skirt with the black trim anywhere and it was 2:41 in the afternoon, I could tell because of the clock tower that rose up taller than the very District it's self.

I should have seen it in the way she kept glancing at me, as if she were trying to memorize me face, that or forget it exactly. I should have seen it in the way her hands shook as she led me along the streets. I counted me steps, an operation that occurs always in the back of me head, me brain noted all the turns we took. I was too excited, too feverish with confusion to put it all together, to understand. At first I just thought that maybe she'd gone off for a cigarette, or to the bathroom. I ran after a girl named Sal, who was a Pirate and we laughed, but all the while me brain listed the seconds then minutes passing by and after twenty I knew that something was amiss. No one leaves their wee one at the park all alone for twenty whole minutes.

me father's watch beat a rhythm in me pocket and I near went crazy trying to make me way around each corner, through each street. Even if I wasn't entirely certain of where I was headed, me feet knew just where to take me, they always had. I was just another kid, tearing down the pavement, just one in hundreds who always find the same result as me. For when I arrived home, she wasn't there. The lights were lit, as if she had been but there wasn't and I walked through the rooms of our little house and her dresses and jewelry were gone, the old photograph of Nan was gone, the good linen was gone, it was all gone. All that was left were me own things, the old rabbit that I'd had since birth, the moth eaten coat that was me father's, me spoon and cup.

She was gone. I remember it perfectly, I always have.

Give me a number. 26? No, harder. 26.468735? Fair enough. Ask me for the number you gave me a year from now. You won't remember, I will. Don't worry, I'll remind you. It's more of a curse, than a blessing, this brain of mine. I ain't been to a day of school in me short life, but if you ask me for the periodic table, I could draw that bitch out for you as well as if I had. I guess it's just 'cause I can't let go. I try, damn do I try. I'd prefer to never remember anything ever as apposed to going through life linking every small happening to moments in me past. Insanity runs deep in these veins, me days are full of repetitions of the same things I've been doing for years and years.

As a result, you'd think me rather predictable. However, it's quite the opposite. As leader to me group of boys, it's me who does the tactics. I have this flute I made out of reeds, an' we roam the streets, them on the ground, me being on the rooftops. There are different songs that mean different things. If I play hot cross buns, it usually means there's a bonnie looking lass coming by, and there are other tunes of course, that have other meanings. I won't tell you though, I can see that you ain't really one to be trusted.

Well after I found me house to be motherless, I must admit that I was more than a little bit lost. Four years old and no one? Well, I was certain that weren't quite right. I remembered even then, me father telling me that there was a lot of work to be found on the docks. I hoped that someone might take me in, some loving mother who'd lost their son and needed a new one, free of charge. For a four year old, those are normal assumptions I suspect. Now that I'm older, I groan at me stupidity of back then. What I received was not what I expected. I was taken on as a junior ship's boy to a big rig that spent months out on the water, fishing and whale hunting. me job was to mend the nets, swab the deck, and do a number of tasks.

When I was young I believed I worked very hard, it took me some time to realize that me shipmates coddled me, quite affected by me hard work, yet me mischievous attitude. There was only so long I could stand being on a boat in the middle of the sea for too long. I would turn to other entertainments, like putting whale fat in the shoes of the officers, or slicking the hallway with it. I had a sling shot made for me by the navigator, he taught me how to shoot and I would often use bits of whale bone as me weapon. The crew taught me a lot, now that I think about it. From them, I learned how to use a blade, as well as how to be a man when it came to cuts and bruises. From them, I learned how not to speak, conjugating and me accent going all wobbly.

Once they discovered me memory, they liked to play with it. They taught me all they knew about the stars, wondering how much I could remember, how much I could stuff in this brain of mine. It's endless it seems, because it is full of all the useless things they told me, as well as the useful. There was one who particularly loved to quote poetry at me, taking a smile from him was easy, as long as I fed him lines of the stuff he'd fed me a month or two ago. He loved the old stuff, from archaic times. 'Shaking A Spear', he'd call it. I asked him why and he said it was because when you said it, you were meant to act like it was matching your heartbeat, like you could feel it beneath your skin, as if you were going into battle with the words.

I grew older on that ship, but by the time I was nine, I had to kiss the sea goodbye, they could no longer afford to keep me. The whales were disappearing and so was our trade. I was abandoned once again. It was alright, this time I was ten, I had a sling shot and reed pipes cleverly carved out for me by the first officer on the rig. I had a short blade, one given to me by the poet and I had a boyish grin, the kind that gave me seeming innocence. I could lie to you, tell you that I then went off and found another ship to be a boy on, or that I went to an orphanage and got me a proper upbringing, but thief and scoundrel I may be, I ain't never been a liar.

What happened wasn't quite storybook. I suppose all you really need to know is that without a caretaker, I quickly learned that life was even harder than I first suspected. It's a dog eat dog world out there, love. There was no exception for me, because I ain't anyone special, just a boy named Pan. Still, events always continue to unfold, like the permanent blossoming of a flower, the dead petals fall away, each day fresh and new. Eventually I met another boy who was similar to me. Now that I think about it, he always was blacker in the soul, but we were fast friends in a world that had no use for us. We realized that there was no real place in the world for boys like us, and vowed we would watch over each other. We two were the first of the lost boys.

We got jobs together eventually, on the same fishing boat. It was better than our other trade, the one of picking pockets on the street. He taught me everything about it, there was no better coach than him, I don't know who he learned from, but because of him, we survived. It's funny how events unfold however, how life can change. I won't bore you with the petty details of our friendship, I won't pretend you care. I can see it in the dullness of your gaze, I'm boring you. Well, what if I told you that when we were fourteen years old, I cut off his hand?

That got you.

Don't believe me, do you? I'm not surprised, I've never met someone so skeptical as you before. I did do it though. Scared of me yet? You should be, I'm terrifying at best. Ahhhh, well. I didn't mean to, it was an accident, honestly. He didn't see it as one. I suppose I don't blame him, he wasn't suspecting the loss of a hand, not that I ever did. We were both quite shocked. It just happened that it fit at the time with our argumentative mood. We had begun to clash even then. it was the clincher that ruined our friendship, because since that moment, he swore revenge for the loss of his hand. I don't blame him, but I don't blame meself neither because accidents happen. Though me memory is sharp as a blade, I've never been one to hold a grudge.

Alright, well I ain't got it in me to forgive me poor old mam yet, but can you blame me because I don't know, I think it's alright to hold a grudge for that. I've had meself a great and interesting childhood though. An' I've got me own family now with me lost boys and with Tink.

Tink? Ah, she's a spitfire I picked up one night a couple years ago. Ten years old and left at a park, just like me. She's got a tongue like a whip and the personality of a ripreddamned harpy, but you gotta love her for it. She and I can really go at it though with our healthy arguments. And don't be trying to take her cigarettes out of her little lips because you just might end up with your face clawed off. With her and the boys I began to pick up in a similar fashion, I found that the loss of me best friend didn't hurt as much, even when he acquired a ship and swore death to me. Ehh, it's hard to keep me down. Despite the flawlessness of me memory, I'm hard to sink.

I think that's an important trait with a life like mine. Abandoned at a young age, I make me hide out in.....I doubt it's safe to tell you just where, but it's a big, tall place that ticks. I've always had a thing for clocks, go figure. The boys and I make our money with tricks and pick pocketing, running errands for the sirens who live out on the rock, and having adventures by meeting up with the forest folk and fighting with pirates. Me life may seem sad and low to you, oh high and mighty highnessy thing, but I reign as King at me own level. It's not just these dashing good looks neither, I-

You scoff?

Oh admit it, I've aged well. Maybe me nose has been broken two or three times too many, but me crooked grin matches it anyway. I've got the angular sharpness of a boy who's used to hunger, but used to raw fists as well. I know about elbows to the face and a sand in the eyes, I'm not above the dirtiness of attempted survival. Me eyes have seen and recorded more than your own sharp ones ever might, and best of all, I can't forget. As if to reinforce this, me body is a canvas of home made tattoos and words that don't make much sense to anyone but me. They aren't remembrances or reminders. They are simply statements, things I remember that most likely don't. Words are me main mechanism, phrases that people have said, that I liked so I worked them underneath me skin with needle and ink. Swirling, they fade and change as often as me hairstyle.

It all depends how I'm feeling, how me hair is. At it's most natural it is a common brown, that brings out the pin point blue of me eyes. Me father's own eyes were blue as mine. Me mum always swore she'd fallen for the promise in them eyes and then sometimes she threw a plate or two at the wall. I wouldn't be knowing if these eyes of mine held the same idea of promise, the same electricity connected to the ocean, connected to adventure. I'd like to be thinking that they do. They're like me shoulders, pushed back and firm, in control. I never forget anything, no detail is left behind by me. You tell me something once, I'll hold on forever.

That being said, I'm about as trustworthy as the ocean. I'll leave you to figure that one out, it ain't up to me to tell you. It's something you'll have to be learning that on your own. See, I've been sitting here, telling you everything, it's time you actually did some detecting miss priss. It's time you stepped off your high standing and followed me down to the bottom of the bricks, where we roam, waiting for a foolish young lass such as yourself to come along. Come along then, you can't miss us. Across the rooftops, second brightest star to the right, and then straight on to Neverland.

Last Edit: Apr 1, 2014 6:50:57 GMT -5 by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

compendium / avriel
clown car / pietro
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✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ Graphics 5,831 POSTS Pronouns: they/them last seen Apr 17, 2024 14:37:45 GMT -5 “And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.” - steinbeck	PETER PAN, DISTRICT 4 Apr 1, 2014 6:51:28 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ on Apr 1, 2014 6:51:28 GMT -5 urkkkk this is potato, but I promise his posts will be better! Done!
	compendium / avriel clown car / pietro 2022 tracker / 2023 tracker / 2024 tracker

✨ Advertiser 8,136 POSTS Pronouns: she/her last seen Apr 18, 2024 20:10:18 GMT -5 bloomtodeath	PETER PAN, DISTRICT 4 Apr 1, 2014 16:22:39 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by ✨ on Apr 1, 2014 16:22:39 GMT -5 I'M IN LOVE
	Last Edit: Apr 1, 2014 16:22:49 GMT -5 by ✨ “and men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins.”