Pearson Crane :: District Eight :: Fin

Docile doe-eyed Pearson, flittering around on the tips of his toes. This is the image bound by the boy of the church. The outsiders see him as soft with skin the sheddings of lilies. His eyes are the hubris of the moon captured within spheres of the ocean's blue. There is a sense of certainty in the air he walks on with almost child-like steps. Thus, so calm and composed is this boy, the kin of a falling flower, that he seems more euphoric than shaped by existence. He is the son of sweetness and the child of caring. Yet woe is the bright flower that emerges from between the cracks of concrete. 

Down in the dwellings of District Eight, those that drift on the breeze of peace find fires beneath their feet. Affixed almost eternally to Pearson's skin, are the symbols of the sufferings of sweetness. Shadows scar in bright blue scourges building as the bruises of this boy's life. Beaten for his promises to prayer, he is always at war weighing in not even a single punch. He falters and falls at the feet of the broken, but when they tired of breaking his bones he offers them his hands to hold. He prays for the ones who cannot hear him. 

Some say the boy should stiffen his spine and turn to strength as his steering, but he is certain in his faith. Although he falls, he feels hands holding him. Although he bleeds, he hears voices calming him. Ripred witnesses the harm of humanity and watches over always. Pearson knows he is more than a shell of skin that is stained with scars. His soul is the vessel of his being and his commitment to caring is the fuel of his journey. Life on Earth is but a blink. Pearson awaits what lies beyond the sword his family has always fallen on. 

There are people that see past the portrait of a soft shelled and silent soul. Those that come to the Compass Church see not one who suffers, but one who shines. Beneath the swath of stained glass, Pearson is an envoy of the euphoric message of Ripred. His skin is the map of their journey and his voice is the wings of their future. Pearson has always been attuned to his spirituality, shaped by its meaning. There is no question when he stands above the ashes of Helena Crane and beneath the panes of her past, that he is the direction of the church's destiny. The name Pearson Crane is synonymous to the Crane Compass Church. 

Even alone in his room within the low light of candles, Pearson ponders of the existential. Pages upon pages fill with fresh phrases of ink telling the tales of a world warped by belief without violence. Can a kid craft a world where there are no more swords to fall on or alley beatings to walk towards? If there is, he is the one who seeks it out with fervent passion. Killing cannot be the pinnacle of humanity's heart, there must be something beyond the brutality. Or does that all only belong to the realm of Ripred?

The Cranes have always been known to be a complicated assortment of individuals. Depression drains the family tree often, leaving branches barren and broken. All the existential examinations take tolls on the spirits of those who go searching. There was a time when the Cranes flourished as a family, fueled by the bright burning flames of faith. Yet the darkness of depression has since withered away at the trees roots leaving only a single strand standing. However, Pearson has managed to keep the waves at bay. Much like the ancestors he has learned about, he fans the fire without extinguishing it.