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Peter Pan

"Best tin' aboyt life is livin', you shud try it!"

0 · 210 views · located in Folksdale

a character in “Turning Pages”, originally authored by Ivisbo, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

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"Followin' others is fur tha' troaps that dorn't know what the' want in life.






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Name: Peter Barrie Pan

Nickname: "Ye can call me Captain. Or Peter...Or Pan. But Captains bet'er"

Age: 19

Origin Story: Peter Pan
Character: Peter Pan

Sexuality: Straight

Accent: Scottish

Likes:
General mischief
Sunny days
Forests and the outdoors
Adventures, but only ones that were his idea first
Sparkly things, such as treasure, glitter, blonde hair, or faeries

Dislikes:
Storms
Growing up
Orders or rules in general
Authority figures
Death in any way, shape, or form
Television




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Fears: "Becomin' one ay them...and death. Not fur me'self but fur others I know"
What Peter fears most is growing into an uncaring, boring adult. He is also terrified of death and fears witnessing it first hand. He can't even stand to watch someone die on the tele.

Hobbies: "Flyin' and playin' tha' flute. And ay coorse, causin' mayhem fur those crusty old adults!"
The general hobbies Mr. Pan entertains himself with are flying, usually in the woods were he can dodge trees like an acrobat, and playing the pan flute (which he has grown quiet good at). Of course, there is his daily hobby in which he terrorizes the adults that try to put him in his place.

Powers: "Weel, first aff, I can fly. Also, I can dae this craz'y thin' wit' mah shadow"
Peter can fly, as the story books told, but he can also control his shadow. His shadow manipulation only extends to shadows that he himself casts, not to shadows around him. He can use his 'other' to search out information for him, confuse his enemy, and even fight against a foe. Peter also enjoys the numerous pranks he can pull...shadows do scare people. But, if he is not careful with his treatment of his shadow, the dark form can go against him and do its own wickedness. Its a tricky business playing with the darkness and you have to be on your toes to do so correctly.

Strengths: "Ah, everythin'! I'am good at everythin'!"
Acrobatic, playing the flute, and working his way out of impossible situations. Like, Peter could be in the clutches of a cop and being dragged to a police car, but somehow he is able to weasel his way out and escape.

Flaws:"Are ye sayin' I have a flaw?"
He can't cook at all, though he can boil water and pour cereal. He also holds a certain disdain for televisions and had once thrown a shoe through someones large flatscreen. Peter hates school, but what people don't know is that its mostly because he can't read. He was never taught, though he has been able to learn signs and informational things. Its mostly just by memory, he does not actually see words and sound them out in his mind.




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Personality: "Weel, I'am fantastic, that's aw ye need tae know."
Peter has a massive ego. He thinks very highly of himself and isn't afraid to show it. He has a flamboyant, charismatic personality that makes people want to do things with him. Others are just naturally drawn to his large boyish grin and happy aura. Peter never allows people to see his true feelings, always hiding behind a mask of grinning mischief. He loves to pull pranks and cause general mayhem, especially to anyone that even attempts to tell him what to do. He detests orders, authority figures (teachers, police, mailmen) and usually makes his opinion very obvious. Peter rarely lies, unless its a small white lie that helps him with a prank. His feelings for others are obvious and point blank- sometimes he appears rude because of his lack of 'holding back'. But this is all apart of Peters charm, he seldom lets others get hurt by his opinions, rather he simply states the truth.

Peter misses Neverland dearly. He dreams of it in his sleep and stars off into the distance while he's awake, imagining the cool breeze and unnaturally blue waters. His mind is stuck there, stuck in the land that welcomed him as a King and saved him from a lifetime of misery. Others will often catch Peter stuck in his state of dreaming, though he will shake it off instantly and go back to his normal, smiling self. Beneath his facade, Peter is miserable. He longs for the island so much it has sunk into his bones, sometimes even giving him trouble with flying. Happy thoughts are hard to come by when all you can think of is the past.

History: "Mah past? Weel, I hail from th' stoatin islain ah Scotland. I grew up near th' sea wit' mah mum an' da'..."
They were a poor family, almost unable to even buy bread for themselves, but somehow they got by on a few mouthfuls of food a week. Peter was only eleven when it became apparent his mother was pregnant with another child, and nether parent knew what to do.

Months past and his father slowly started drinking his worries away. He would come home and drunkenly scream and yell at Peter and his mother, but he never touched them. Six months into his mothers pregnancy, during a horrible storm and lashed against the house with wailing wings, Peter was awoken one night to the sound of slamming doors and loud footsteps. They pounded up the staircase and burst through his door, three men covered in head to toe in black. He screamed and scrambled away, yelling for his mother and father as he frantically tried to escape. The men grabbed him, gagged him, and tied him up. The largest one threw him over his shoulder without a word and left the room, heading for the kitchen and front door exit. His father waited by the front door and Peter wiggled to try and escape the man. His father would surely save him, he was fine...

One of the men handed his father a pouch full of coins and smirked...then without a word they left the small cottage with Peter strung up and crying. They threw him in the back of their horse drawn cart and took off into the night. Peter did not move, did not try and escape, he simply laid amongst the wet straw and cried, wishing what he saw had not been true. His father, selling him for a small sack of coins....it could not be.

Peter was taken to a slave house in the city and thrown in amongst other boys around his age. They were kept in horrible conditions, their own filth filled the floors and the food was covered in flies. The adults that took care of them were less them pleasant- one man didn't have any teeth and enjoyed smiling at the boys and running his tongue along his digesting black gums. Peter was not sure how much time passed in the slave house, but eventually they were dragged out to the docks and forced onto a boat. The boys were crammed below in space barely big enough for them to stand and then the ship left port.

The seas around Scotland were not calm as the slave ship sailed across the sea. Choppy waters swung the ship back and forth, causing the boys below to grow sick (which only led to more sickness). The whole time, Peter remained tucked into a corner, his tired eyes restlessly watching the entrance to the deck above. He knew he had to escape before they reached port, it was their only way out. So he waited, his eyes never leaving the latched door.

A rather nasty storm had picked up outside, forcing the ship to push on through massive cascading waters. It thrashed the slaves below, sent them flying and wailing, and sent water over the railings above that leaked downstairs. Peter saw his chance right then and took it. He surged forward, leaping over the crying boys below him, and threw the latched door open onto the ship deck. Crew mates were hurriedly tying ropes, hoping to control the sails as this beast of a storm took control of the ship. Peter wet unnoticed by the crew and that was exactly how he wanted it to be. He slipped up onto the deck and closed the latched, then moved to go towards the dingy hanging off the side.

Just then, the crew started screaming. The ship took a violent turn, hefting itself towards the left as if someone- or something- had pushed it. Peter grabbed the railing and peered over the side, his eyes growing wide at the sight before him. A massive swirling vortex of water awaited the ship, its waters pulling the vessel closer and closer while the sails fought against it. Peter screamed, his chest heaving for air, but it was too late. In under twenty seconds, the ship was sucked underwater with the crew aboard.

Peter has never been sure what happened after the ship was pulled in, but one second they were drowning and screaming and praying, and the next to ship sprang up onto still waters. A beautiful island lay before them, a cloudless sky above, and the brightest waters he had ever seen around them. Peter stared, his eyes wide with wonder and amazement. The island called to him, played a song for only his ears, reaching her warm fingers for the little boy clutching the ship. He answered her.

Neverland cared for Peter like a mother, helped him find food and shelter, even allowed her faeries to treat the poor boys wounds. The island whispered to him at night, crooned into his ears and made him feel safe. When it asked what he most desired in the world, Peter answered that he never wanted to turn into an adult. He never wanted to become one of those misshapen humans that only thought of money and forsake love and happiness to get it. Neverland granted him this and allowed Peter to never leave the form of a 16 year old boy.

Peter became Peter Pan, Prince of Neverland and Captain of the Lost Boys. He saved the slave kids from the ship and brought them to the island, where they became the Lost Boys and partook in his various schemes and shenanigans. They never had to worry about anything, Neverland made sure that the boys were taken care of and stayed happy. The ship Peter and the Lost Boys had arrived on turned out to be a pirate ship, crewed by a gruesome sort of men that remained a black mark of evil in the beautiful island waters. Peter took it upon himself to drive the pirates crazy, as they were adults and deserved it. But he never hurt anyone, Gods no, not until the evil Captain tried to feed him to a crocodile and instead had his own hand bitten off. He continued from then on, flirting with the mermaids, helping the natives, saving kids from the horrors of growing old, and playing with Tinkerbell and the other faeries.

Peter lived happily for years, centuries, hours? He had no idea how much time he spent on Neverland, as time was not a matter to be thought of. Either way, on the day that the great a great hole ripped open in the skies above him and proceeded to suck him in. He screamed and fought the pull, but soon enough he was ripped from his island and forced through the fissure. He landed on the forest floor, face down and crying. The world around him was not Neverland, not even close. Here the shadows did not sing songs, the lights did not twinkly brightly and call to him. The leaves did not move to encompass the boy King and Peter could no longer hear the sweet voice of his mother Neverland.

In Folksdale, Peter was miserable. He took his pain out on the authority figures that tried to make him behave and fall in line, carrying out various harmless pranks. He continued to long for his true home, for the beautiful island far far away.

Other: Peter has a fantastic tree house int he forest that he built upon his arrival. He resembles his old home in Neverland, though not quiet as magical. He lives there, as the town is too much for him, and uses it as an escape. he was never a builder, but he could get by with the right materials. The tree fort has a roof, though there are holes in places were he fell in while nailing it down. One of the walls is only a half wall and in one corner there is a circular hole in which a noted rope hangs down. That is the only entrance, though Peter does not use the rope because he can fly. The only things he really has (which he had to steal) are; two twin mattresses, a couple quilts, a fold out a table with two wooden chairs, and a milk crate that he stores his clothing in. Everything else he does not view as necessary (especially television).

So begins...

Peter Pan's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alice Kingsley Character Portrait: Jack Helyer Character Portrait: Jane Banks Character Portrait: Maleficent Dejana "Mal" DeBrock Character Portrait: Gretel Character Portrait: Hansel Houwen Character Portrait: Marigold Lokes Character Portrait: Lacey Swan Character Portrait: Ali Marchwood Character Portrait: Anton Taylor Character Portrait: Peter Pan Character Portrait: Leona Hopewell Character Portrait: Michael Richard Banks Character Portrait: Christopher Robin Character Portrait: Wendy Darling Character Portrait: Eddie Bern Character Portrait: Gabriel Leroy Character Portrait: Samantha Arthur Character Portrait: Daniel Wolfe
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#, as written by Issa


Time: 7.30am, Saturday
Weather: Fine, light breeze
High of 23ºC (73ºF)


Folksdale Morning Radio:
'Good morning Folksdale, I'm your morning host Jiminy and what an excellent morning it is. Beautiful blue sky, stunning outlook onto our fairytale town and the promise of a magical day to come. There's little to announce from the night, but today promises to be a stunner. Gepetto is having a sale on wooden figurines and Belle's Bookstore will be hosting a book signing with the award winning author of 'Lamps: 101 uses'. I've also been told to remind all our listeners to watch out for the bridge just past Spinners' Lane, it appears a troll has taken up residence beneath...'



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Sunlight filtered through the white curtains, a gap in the hangings letting a single ray of golden sunlight spill into the room. It landed across Jane's eyes and acted as well as any buzzing alarm to tell the girl that it was time to rise. With a single groan of protest Jane pushed the blankets off her and sat up straight. She stretched, her arms out behind her back and then above her head. A moment later, sleep finally receding, she set her legs onto the carpeted floor and stood. A snap of her fingers flicked the light switch across the room up and the bulb turned on, illuminating the chaos of Jane's room. Clothes covered the majority of her floor, clean and dirty mixed indiscriminately. On her desk a spell book sat open surrounded by scribbled notes. Jane had been looking through the tome late last night, hoping to find any useful spells to help replace Mary Poppins' protective spells on the town.

A scratching at Jane's door alerted her to the presence of a persistent visitor. Another snap of her fingers saw the knob turn and the door opened. The visitor, the black and grey family cat, was old, tubby and probably thought that he ruled the house.
"Morning Thomas" Jane murmured as the cat wondered in. Thomas didn't deign to respond, instead he pranced over to Jane's bed, jumped up and immediately began to make himself comfortable. "Lucky for some" Jane muttered to the cat as she pulled off her pyjamas and swapped them for her running gear. Luckily the shirt, shorts and sneakers were all in a neat pile on her drawers and not amongst the mountain of clothing on her floor. Dressed, Jane left her room and wondered downstairs, dropping into the kitchen for a bottle of water and a light morning snack. Not seeing any of her family up yet Jane let herself out of the house quietly, grabbed her bike and pushed it out to the street.

The ride to Eddie's place was relatively short. Traffic was light early morning and the weather was fine. No doubt the day would prove a stunning one, even know Jane could see little sign of the weather turning fowl. The morning was bright, crisp and perfect for running, which was coincidentally what Jane was about to do. With a final pedal on her bike she cruised down the street before skidding to a stop outside Eddie's house and jumping onto the pavement. She pulled her bike up to the front of the house and let it rest beside the front door. Jane glanced at the watch on her wrist, 7.20 am exactly. Right on time. She hopped up to the front door and gave the frame a short, sharp rap. A squawk, that of an angry bird, answered followed by the sound of feet. Jane took a step back as the door opened and Eddie greeted Jane, a disgruntled parrot seated on his arm.




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Eddie had been up for a few hours. His current roomate, a emerald green parrot named Murray, was a demanding fellow and required frequent assurances that everything was alright. Eddie, used to such sleepless nights, was more concerned that Murray's persistent squawks would wake the two humans that Eddie shared the house with. Eddie frequently brought sick animals home from the vets, ones that needed overnight observation. Most of them weren't quite as loud as Murray. Because of that Eddie was up and dressed before the sun rose, making breakfast for his human house mates as a way of saying sorry in case the parrot had pestered them overnight.

Bacon fried in the pan, eggs were being scrambled and Eddie had just finished buttering the toast. If the smell didn't rouse his flatmates he was sure that the sun beginning to stream through the house would. Nevertheless he had a plan B in case they couldn't pull themselves out of bed before the food went cold. Eddie placed the food on a plate and tucked it into the oven. Hopefully it would stay warm in there until they saw it, and if it was still there when Eddie came back from his run then he would just have to eat it himself. Eddie glanced at the kitchen clock, realised he had little time left and quickly scribbled a note for Sam explaining that he had left her breakfast. He even drew her a sad excuse for a dog beneath the note, knowing that she loved the animals.

A moment later, Murray hanging off one arm, Eddie answered the door to find his long time friend and running buddy waiting.
"Two secs." Eddie said before quickly dodging back into his room and gently placing Murray back in his cage. He arrived back at the front door to find Jane still in the same place,
"Something smells good." She commented as Eddie closed the front door behind him.
"Bacon and eggs." Eddie explained as the two began a gentle jog down the street, "With any luck they'll be some for us when we're done." He added.
"Definitely better than porridge." Jane giggled. Jane had always found it strange that Eddie's favourite food was porridge and she enjoyed teasing him about it. Eddie decided against replying, instead he simply pocked his tongue out and directed the pair down their usual track that would eventually lead them into and through the forest.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Peter Pan
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#, as written by Ivisbo
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Morning sun broke through the rafters of Peters makeshift ceiling, streaming through the holes onto his twin sized mattress tucked into the corner. He was sprawled out across the bed, his long, gangly legs extended over the bed and his arms draped over the sides. He as far to big for the bed now, his body had grown in his three years in Folksdale.

Peter frowned at the irritating sunlight that filtered across his tanned face and rolled to the side, trying to evade the morning as long as normal. But, with that single movement, he was awake. His eyes opened tiredly and stared at the old rotting wood of his tree fort, sluggishly arriving with the present. He had been dreaming, dreaming of beautiful waterfalls cascading into cyan blue depths and mermaids, leaping from the waters to wave and smile at him. But that was all gone for him now, ripped away from his grasp...

He sat up, the light quilt that covered his bare chest pooling around his waist. The day was warm already and he could hear the birds chattering outside his 'home'. Peter stood and stretched, then pulled on a dark forest green t-shirt and khaki cargo shorts over his boxers. The two pairs of 'shorts' always confused him, it was on of the normal world customs that he would never fully grasp. But he had been told it was what guys had to do, so he wore the uncomfortable bunchy clothing begrudgingly. He cast an evil look at his tennis shoes, hating the very thought of them, and decided this was the day he was going to ignore the shoes. Peter preferred bare feet far more then the convening converse.

His tree fort was sparse, filled with only two twin mattresses, a crate of his clothing, a table with two chairs, and a few quilts he had stolen. He loved the simplicity of it, although he did wish he could drape a few animal furs just to make it feel more like his hideout in Neverland. But animals here did not grow the same as they did back home...there were less Cat-Bears and more squirrels running around, no good for making fur blankets.

Peters stomach growled, signaling it was time for breakfast. He never cooked, had no clue how, and all attempts to teach him left a black charred mess. So, Peter usually scavenged for food. He had plenty of friends in town that would be willing to share a meal with him, all he had to do was fly up to their window with a bright smile and hope they were awake. Grinning to himself, Peter leapt through the hole in the floor of the tree fort, not bothering with the escape rope. He waited until he was inches from hitting the ground before flinging himself forward into the forest, then whirling and flying up over the tree line towards central Folksdale.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Peter Pan Character Portrait: Eddie Bern Character Portrait: Gabriel Leroy Character Portrait: Samantha Arthur
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Sam isn't the sort of person who sleeps in until noon, even on the weekend, but neither is she much for rising with the sun, as her housemate Eddie seems so fond of doing. She exercises just as much as the next person, perhaps more, but prefers to leave it for the evening or afternoon. The girl needs food in her stomach before she does anything, really, and it takes quite a bit of food in order to fill up her bottomless pit of a stomach. Her eating habits are oddly similar to a teenaged boy just before a growth spurt, though she hasn't done much growing lately. Anyway, trying to exercise early in the morning would have been hell for the young woman, who received a sort of half-sleep thanks to a night filled with the squawking of Eddie's most recent house guests. The vet-in-training brings home plenty of animals from work, of course, but this painfully green parrot has been the loudest by far, and Sam is nearing her wits' end with its constant shrieking.

And of course, the smell of food is enough to rip Sam out of her quasi-sleep, leading her to recognize the fact that she, as usual, is starving. Knowing that Eddie must've been the one to whip up some breakfast, she beams, because he is more than likely to share- or to have left some extra portions for the rest of the house's residents. The young woman sits up and pushes herself up from bed, a bit of force springing her off of it and onto the ground, where she manages to land neatly on her feet- practice makes perfect, even if she is a far cry from a gymnast. Sam hears the shutting of the door as she makes her way towards the kitchen, and reasons that Eddie has left early for some reason or another. He often does this, going to work or to wander about some part of town with one of his other friends. The scent of food, still fresh, reassures her that he has, in fact, left some breakfast behind- and from the smell of it, eggs and bacon. Her stomach growls, prompting her towards the kitchen table- but not before opening one of the windows, because the place stinks of parrot. In doing this, she notices a little note, which blows off of the table due to a small gust of wind. The note informs her that Eddie has left breakfast for her, and includes a little drawing of what appears to be a dog beneath the note, something which makes her smile.

So, Sam settles down at the table, taking a half of what has been left, justified based on the contents of the note. Ravenous, and utterly un-self conscious, she gobbles her food down in a way that would put any food-eating champion to shame. Reasonable and down-to-earth as she may typically be, Sam can seem almost ridiculous in her consumption of food- she is a strong believer in eating when you want and what you want, so long as you aren't taking from anyone else, or simply being an idiot about it.

Taking a crunchy BITE! out of a crispy strip of bacon, Sam turns and looks out the window, watching the leisurely movement of the clouds for a moment before turning her attention to the street, picking out various people. She isn't really the sort to daydream, instead finding her mind focusing on various things in her vision. One in particular catches her eye, as she spots a familiar flying figure whizzing about the lower sky over Folkesdale. Knowing Peter, he is likely on the lookout for food- and while Sam often may point out flaws in his plans or stop him from doing something stupid, this is a quest for which she cannot fault him. The girl waves towards him when he flies close enough to perhaps catch sight of her through the open window, before taking another bite of eggs.


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Gabriel Leroy does not live with his wealthy parents, and hasn't done so for a few years now- beginning with his transformation into a frog and continuing on to the current time period. Despite the fact that he is separated from their 'mansion on the hill' setup of sorts, the young man does still clearly show signs of being born into wealth, and of having been an only child, to boot. The first sign of this would be his rather luxurious apartment, one which he certainly did not pay for, having not yet acquired any job which could support such a residence. Sure, he works at a local restaurant, something which gives him a good excuse to speak to attractive people, but obviously there is some help with affording his snazzy residence. Besides, he can't organize furniture for shit, and yet the entire apartment is stylishly decorated in a simplistic fashion, mostly in white with the occasional dash of color. A maid comes regularly in order to ensure that everything is spotless. Gabriel may not be an actual prince, but he clearly finds no fault in allowing his parents to pamper him like one.

Now, Gabriel Leroy is not really a morning sort of person. By all means, he typically prefers to sleep during the morning, and rise around the time that the sun is directly overhead. However, he finds himself waking up anyway when the light from the sun bleeds through partially opened curtains, falling directly upon his shut eyes. He's a rather light sleeper, to be honest, and this is enough for his eyes to open, squinting accusingly at the crack between the curtains, which he had clearly forgotten to close all the way. It is made all the worse by the fact that he has quite the headache from last night. Strangely enough, this headache is not the result of alcohol, because Gabriel is sober and always has been, knowing from experience that being drunk and having the power of persuasion is a bad combination. Not that he is completely rigid with his own abilities, of course- the young man often uses them towards his own means. But he isn't quite that careless, even if he often seems to be, or rather is, a reckless and arrogant flirt.

Giving in to the unrelenting sun, Gabriel rolls out of bed, leaving the sheets crumpled behind him. He decides to go to the diner for breakfast, and thus must first ready himself- which means showering, brushing his teeth, styling his hair, and dressing. But then, appearances have always been very important to Gabriel, both in himself and in others. He doesn't expect any more from others than what he sees in himself- unfortunately, what he sees in himself can often be fueled by a bit of arrogance and vanity.

After completing his morning routine, the young freeloader, for that is perhaps the best term to describe his financial state, heads out for the day, flashing a smile at nearly everyone he passes by. His apartment is rather close to the downtown district of the town, a short walk away, really, as he lives in one of those just above the shops that are around the district. Thus, a rather short walk is all that is required before the young man has reached his destination- the diner which makes the best french toast in town. His headache has begun to fade away by now, though the cause of it he is still unaware of.

Gabriel sits at a table and looks over a menu, as though he doesn't already know exactly what he intends to buy.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Peter Pan Character Portrait: Samantha Arthur
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#, as written by Ivisbo
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Peter flew over central Folksdale, drifting over the square slowly as he gazed down at the various faces he recognized as he passed. He smiled brightly at a view people that pointed and waved at him, but he did not give pause to his mission. He was on the look out for food and he had promised his gurgling stomach a meal. Breakfast was always one of his favorite, apart from desert of course. Something about the combination of bacon and eggs, or fruit salad with sugar, or pancakes, and orange juice. A large, boyish grin spread across his face at the thought.

He turned and made his way from the town center to fly through the side streets, running his eyes along the buildings for an open window and loving the feeling of the early morning breeze on his face. In Neverland, Peter had never been one of sunrises as he normally slept in from his late night adventures. But here (with nothing much to do) Peter found himself rising with the sun. The holes in ceiling of his tree house didn't help much, he had plans to fix that soon (not really, Peter wasn't too keen on building when he had other things to do).

Something caught his eye of to his left, movement directed towards him. Peter performed an ariel flip (he loved to show off when he knew he had an audience) and looked towards the open window, returning the wave before he even knew who it was. Ah, Sam and Eddies home. He furrowed his brows as he tried to work out which resident the person in the window was, quickly deciding it was Sam as he doubted Eddie would call him over to share his breakfast.

Peter landed on her window pan a moment later, grasped the sides and crouching down on the wooden frame for balance. He grinned cheekily down at her then took a massive whiff of the food, "Smells guid Sam!" He exclaimed loudly, "Ye have any left fur yer dear friend Peter?" A glance down at her plate sent his stomach in rumbles, so he sincerely hoped that she had called him over here for a meal and not some idle chit chat.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alice Kingsley Character Portrait: Jack Helyer Character Portrait: Jane Banks Character Portrait: Maleficent Dejana "Mal" DeBrock Character Portrait: Gretel Character Portrait: Hansel Houwen Character Portrait: Ali Marchwood Character Portrait: Anton Taylor Character Portrait: Peter Pan Character Portrait: Leona Hopewell Character Portrait: Michael Richard Banks Character Portrait: Christopher Robin Character Portrait: Eddie Bern Character Portrait: Gabriel Leroy Character Portrait: Samantha Arthur Character Portrait: Daniel Wolfe
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Organizing a bookstore was like life--a delicate balance between beauty and functionality. On the one hand, scattered books and slightly askew shelves gave the place a sort of welcoming, lived-in look. On the other hand, an organized, spotless store was the most effective for finding exactly what a customer was looking for and appealed to those used to a bigger city way of life. Wendy preferred something in between the two, and the store owner had never objected. She organized everything, making sure to front and display especially the newer and more popular materials, but left little notes of discord everywhere. For example, the corner with a couch and several chairs, with small end tables ornamented by lamps with illustrations from children's tales, looked bare if too neat. A small but selective pile of books on each end table, made it look more welcoming, along with the pillows she plumped up for the couch.

The floor was scrupulously clean, the windows sparkling (thank goodness they had a service for that, Wendy thought, as it would drive her spare to keep the glass perfect on her own), the register perfectly balanced and ready for the day. The only thing left was to put up a few more signs for the event and arrange the table and chairs for the author's signing, which she did quickly and efficiently. This particular author had no special requests that she'd been notified of, but that could mean that either the publicist was taking care of that or that she would be surprised last minute. With an unwrinkled brow, Wendy glanced over a small black notebook that she kept behind the counter. In it was listed every service in town with a specific eye to the often eccentric needs of authors, and especially those services that delivered very quickly. It was always best to be prepared.

Wendy looked over the shop with pride. Everything in the store was exactly the way she wanted it. The only fly in the ointment was that there were going to be customers in and out all morning, disturbing her good work before the signing, but thankfully the event was in the afternoon rather than the evening. Taking a deep breath in and out, Wendy turned on the automatic tea kettle she kept hidden behind the counter and made herself a nice cup of tea. She took a delicate sip out of a delicate teacup, enjoying the flavor and the silence, as well as the organized space in front of her, before she went to turn the bookstore sign to "Open." And since it might very well be a quiet morning, she pulled out her notebook from a cupboard and continued a story she had been working on.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ali Marchwood Character Portrait: Peter Pan Character Portrait: Gabriel Leroy Character Portrait: Samantha Arthur
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When Peter catches sight of her, and soon after soars to her window, Sam smiles, guessing what the young man is currently on the hunt for- he doesn't exactly have plenty of food stored up in that tree house in the forest, after all. And, of course, he wastes no time getting to business about it either, a hopeful grin as he unsubtly eyes the tasty breakfast, courtesy of chef Eddie, on the table. "Eddie makes a wicked plate of eggs. I really just called you over to say hello, though," she responds sarcastically, a deadpan expression settling on her face for just a few moments before the smile cracks once more. Peter reminds her a bit of her elder brother, actually, though only in personality- it would be a difficult task for anyone to view Peter as an elder sibling, though a younger one is quite a bit more likely. He hardly exudes the air of maturity or authority that is associated with elder sibling figures, even if those very traits aren't actually particularly common in real older brothers and sisters.

Contradicting her words, but not her obvious sarcasm, Sam turns around and scoops some of the food onto a plate for Peter- a paper plate, to be exact, in case he suddenly whizzes off with it. She wouldn't want to be partially responsible for the loss of a perfectly good ceramic dish, after all. Especially when she'd then feel obligated to pay for it, and is often running a bit short on budget, since her major focus of late has been studying for her degree. "You can eat in here, if you promise not to break anything," she allows with a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, setting the plate down with a fork and a glass, in case he wants a drink to wash down the eggs and bacon. Hearing the growl of his stomach, her eyebrows shoot up behind dark brown bangs, hidden by this motion, though only briefly.

It would be hypocritical for her to tease this, though, because she is known for having a stomach that rivals a bear's, and that can growl loud enough to frighten one away. Thus, the girl simply leans against the counter and begins to consider what she might do today. It's rather nice out, which makes her feel slightly guilty for having intended to stay in and marathon Sherlock all day. The weather is prime for going outdoors, after all, sunny but not as wretchedly hot as it can be some days. Maybe going hiking, or trying to get together a game of basketball? she muses to herself, before running her hands through her hair and turning her attention back to Peter.

"So, what are you up to today?" she asks him, though she doubts he has a real plan- and if he does, it is most likely reckless and over-the-top, as everything seems to be with the perpetually-childish boy.

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After a few more moments of looking over the menu, Gabriel glances up to find a waitress standing at his table, little notepad and pen in hand. He smiles at her easily, looking as charming at ever as he subtly looks her over, assessing her to be delightfully cute. Of course, he's not really particularly discriminatory as far as these things go, but the more attractive the person is, the better all the same. "May I take your order?" she asks him casually, but based upon her expression she recognizes him- his is a well known face in Folksdale, after all- wealthy parents and a tendency to flirt with anything with a pulse does tend to spread a person's name around quite a bit, after all. Gabriel lays down his menu in front of him and appears to be thinking for a moment.

"Well, what do you recommend? You look like you have good taste," he proposes with a smile, raising one eyebrow in a manner that seems to embody the term quizzical. The waitress quickly tries to think of something that tastes particularly good, hardly wanting to recommend something that tastes like it has been dragged through a sewer to the not unattractive young man before her. She's new at this job, though, and hasn't really eaten at this place much- there was a Help Wanted sign at the door, and she responded, that being the entire story of how she's come to be employed at this fine establishment. After a little while, she blushes and admits that she doesn't really know what the best thing they serve is- a suitable answer for Gabriel, who already knows what he wants anyway.

"Well, I'll have the french toast, then, and a cup of jasmine tea, if you will," he says with another smile, which the girl glances at over the notepad that she is scribbling his order on. With a nod, and a look of slight nervousness, she turns and is off to place the order and deal with the other customers. Of course, he doesn't miss that look she throws over her shoulder on her trip away from him.

And watching her had allowed him to glimpse a familiar shade of hair in the booth just behind him, along with a book. He twists to look over the seat, draping his arm over the top of it to look at one Miss Ali Marchwood, whose nose is three inches deep in a book at the moment, as it always seems to be. "You know, eventually Belle's going to get angry that she doesn't have a monopoly on the beautiful girl with her nose in a book role," he comments jovially. He may not like the waking up part of early mornings all that much, but Gabriel adjusts quickly, and typically finds that he is glad to have woken up when he did- it leaves more of the day available, after all.

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Character Portrait: Peter Pan Character Portrait: Samantha Arthur
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"Eddie makes a wicked plate of eggs. I really just called you over to say hello, though," As Sam spoke, Peter gave her a quizzical look, searching for the sarcasm in her words. Even though it should be obvious to anyone that she was joking, the blonde haired teen had a hard time deciphering people when they were not up front with their actions. Peter opened frowned at her and almost starting mouthing her off for her rudeness, but then the girl turned and scooped up a plate of eggs and bacon.

A massive smirk spread across his face as he resettled himself on the window sill, balancing on the edge without the use of his hands so he could grab the plate once she set it down. He ignored her offer to come inside, mostly because he was busy shoveling the food down his throat like a rabid animal. Peter had little need for manners with the Lost Boys, Wendy had been the only one to ever really tell him 'no' when it came to things like using your fingers for forks. And Wendy wasn't here, so he could do what he wanted.

THe food was delicious, exactly what he had been searching for. He made a mental note to come back to Sam's more often, or maybe beg Eddie for some of his amazing breakfast- though he was sure the dark haired boy wasn't too keen on him. For some reason, Peter always had an easier time getting girls to do things for him, and he was just fine with that. Though he liked hanging out with the lost Boys back home, there weren't too many lads like them in this world. A few, but not as many as he would have hoped.

"So, what are you up to today?" Peter paused in his eating and thinking and looked up at Sam, for a moment forgetting that he was perched in her window. He blinked and swallowed his food, his eyebrows pulling together in thought.

"Well" He began, setting the now empty plate down on the table and placing hands on his knees, "Ah haven't given it much thooght pest breakfest. Maybe I'll dae what ye are doin' today? Or maybe I'll go fill one ay th' police car's full ay dooghnuts...." A mischievous grin spread across his face as he thought about the reactions of the bloody police men that chase him around all the time and he almost laughed out loud at the thought.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ali Marchwood Character Portrait: Peter Pan Character Portrait: Gabriel Leroy Character Portrait: Samantha Arthur Character Portrait: Daniel Wolfe
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At the tinkling bell sound that indicates the entrance of another customer to the fine, if small, establishment, Gabriel glances over towards the door and makes brief, but hostile all the same, eye contact with his least favorite town pariah- Daniel Wolfe. He had once wondered whether the family had adopted that last name in response to their werewolf status, or if this was simply some happy coincidence. Of course, now any thoughts he has about Daniel Wolfe are rather negative ones; the werewolf never seems to have a problem with reminding him that he dines on the occasional frog, and that the loathing is mutual, after all. His eyes flicker to the plastic bag in Daniel's hand, and he briefly wonders what is in it- most likely his latest prey, or something. Noticing the tensing of Ali beside him, Gabriel recalls that she and her friends have a particular grudge against the Wolfe brothers. This shared hostility towards Daniel gives him a bit of a connection to her, though they are hardly strangers to begin with. Still, he views general attractiveness to be one of the only things they have in common- a pretty decent thing to have in common, as far as he's concerned.

Thus, he turns his attention fully back to the bookish girl, looking away from Daniel and, in doing this, perhaps providing a distraction for Ali from the Wolfe brother. "Oh, I'm grand, thank you. We were discussing you moving over into my booth, I believe?" he says, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he none-too-subtly suggests this idea. After all, twisting around to talk to her is a pain, especially when there is a perfectly good seat right across from him at his own booth.

"And you, by the way? How are you today?" he adds retrospectively, looking up as the waitress returns and sets down his drink before delivering a promise that his food will be arriving shortly as well. He thanks her and smiles before taking a drink from his tea- something the young man instantly regrets, as it is likely fresh from the pot, and burns his mouth. He moves it away from him in a sudden motion that is some strange compromise between fluid and jerky, before placing the cup down and resisting the urge to stick his tongue out so that the air-conditioning of the building might somehow help in cooling it off.


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Peter's way of eating is rather. . .unorthodox, but Sam has adjusted to it by now, and merely raises an eyebrow as he ravages the plate- as though she hadn't done a similar thing only moments ago. Of course, she had done so properly using her utensils and such, but the fact remains that she had wolfed it down as though it was the food after a week of fasting. The girl has quite a stomach on her, and Peter is clearly quite similar when it comes to having a massive appetite. He does appear to always be moving, after all, and that likely requires a good amount of food to fuel, she supposes. At least he swallows before speaking up to answer her previous question about his plans for the day. His answer meets her expectations exactly, and eyebrows seem to shoot even further up at his considering filling a police car with donuts.

"Sounds like an expensive waste of food," she comments skeptically, not even bothering to fully outline why the plan won't work. She often seems to be the one who ends up putting the cap on Peter's bizarre and occasionally fantastical schemes- but that is simply in her nature, being a rather grounded individual, even if she doesn't always seem precisely that.

"Not that I have any plans for today- I was thinking of going hiking, or maybe swimming," she says, folding her arms over her chest as she speaks, her words being just as much for her sake as they are for Peter's, as she is still trying to properly work out her plans for the day. Both options are rather tempting for the young woman, and the weather is rather nice outside for anything involving the outdoors.

Sam grabs the plate that he had set down and quickly cleans it before putting it back into the cupboard. She doesn't like just leaving dishes in the sink when they can easily be cleaned upon no longer being used. Her brother and father had always left dishes around, and it had come to be one of her pet peeves, rather than something to which she adapted.

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Character Portrait: Jack Helyer Character Portrait: Peter Pan Character Portrait: Daniel Wolfe
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Wendy chuckled and shook her head mock-sadly. "Jack, you must learn to make as many observations on your adventures as you can. How else are we going to peddle your memoirs to sell and finance your retirement when you're too old to carry a sword?" she joked, but there was an element of truth behind it, at least from her perspective. Jack was a good friend and a first-rate adventurer, but sometimes she worried about what would happen to him in his twilight years, especially if he had no one to take care of him. Reminding herself yet again that everyone makes their own choices and really, it wasn't her fault if he made the wrong ones--it really wasn't. Really-- she looked up as she was addressed.

"Good afternoon, Daniel." Weaknesses of werewolves? An odd question from a werewolf, didn't he know the weaknesses of his own species? That reminded her, she had been planning to interview him on the topic before she found out that it was a sensitive subject in town. Unfortunate, as one of her newer stories could have used a werewolf anti-hero. Maybe asking him to tea, being tactful, plying him with scones? "There's an interesting mix of ideas on the topic. 'Beasts and Beauties,' by an author I can't recall at the moment, has a fairly good compendium. It's in the fantasy section. Also, 'Wolves are People Too,' by R. Lupan, seems to have some of the more unheard-of weaknesses, ones I haven't seen in other books. There are a few more in that section, if you want to browse."

The day passed rather quickly, with her friends in and out and a beautiful Daniel Wolfe to look at... she meant.... assist with his books. Yes. Must have good service at the bookshop, that was it. She rolled her eyes at her own thoughts as she closed up the bookstore. At the apartment, Wendy quickly changed, wanting to use what sunlight was left of the evening as it was already past six. Shorts were a bit too cold in the woods for this time of the day, even when working up a sweat, so she decided on a green tank top and stretchy black capris, along with her running shoes.

Ranvir looked up from his ebook. "Ready to run, Wendy?"

"More than," she replied, filling up a water bottle and, as always, making sure she had a small pouch of fairy dust and a compass in the compartment for emergencies. Running with a sword was problematic, Ranvir and a little dust usually solved whatever problems came up on her jogs. "Let's get out of here."

"Long day, I take it?" He said, annoyingly still not out of breath as they jogged quickly into the woods on one of Wendy's favorite paths.

"Very, very busy. And occasionally ridiculous. A fussy author, a big crowd... the usual for a book signing. I'm just glad it's over." Wendy paused and went down a random fork in the trail. Trail was too kind for it, it was more a path that a deer or two had made, but that was enough for exploring purposes. She hadn't worked up a good sweat quite yet, so she led Ranvir deeper into the woods and up some hills. It was nice to get out of her head a bit, and twenty minutes passed without too much thought or conversation. Just the peace of the woods, with the occasional sound of someone else running other paths or the animals of the forest escaping Ranvir's mischievous advances.

Wendy checked her compass at the half an hour point, and decided to take a different way back. Taking one trail that had been worn by human feet, although not hers, she came across something that surprised her. Was that... a tree house? Ranvir growled a little. "It smells like boy. We should keep running."