PETER PAN

[PETER PAN]

PETER PAN

• “Not the pain of this but its unfairness was what dazed Peter. It made him quite helpless. He could only stare, horrified. Every child is affected thus the first time he is treated unfairly. All he thinks he has a right to when he comes to you to be yours is fairness. After you have been unfair to him he will love you again, but he will never afterwards be quite the same boy. No one ever gets over the first unfairness; no one except Peter.” •

»»Name:[/i][/size] Peter Pan
»»Nickname:[/i][/size] Peter (if you’re Tink), Pan (if you’re anyone else)
»»Age:[/i][/size] He thinks somewhere around 24, though he can’t tell for certain. It’s hard to count after you get past fingers.
»»Gender:[/i][/size] Boy
»»Sexuality:[/i][/size] Pansexual. He doesn’t really see the difference any one way or another. However, the girls seem to like him better so he probably likes them best.
»»Group:[/i][/size] Lost Boys

»»Physical Appearance:[/i][/size]
If one were to try and spot Peter in a crowd, the first thing they’d be told to look for would be his grin. Cocksure and innocent in the sort of way he could never actually be, it seems rather out of place in a land as dark as Neverland. There’s something about the way he moves, too, something entirely without pattern that, while ought to seem confusing, comes out somewhat graceful in a sort of childishly indecisive way. Standing at approximately five feet, nine inches, everything about Peter is limbs. He’s muscular, certainly, somewhere between being the sort of skinny that comes from scavenging for food for most of his life and the sort that comes from running more often than eating.

Everything about him is dirty. Living in the forest, after all, tends to take its toll after a while. His hair, a sort of coppery red when freshly washed, remains a sort of unkempt brown throughout most of the year. Great smattering of freckles accounted for, there often appears to be a thin layer of dirt smudged over his skin, as well as the faint scent of plant life hovering about his person. His eyes, too, keep in them something of the forest even when he’s outside it. Not quite green and not quite blue and not quite brown, they hover somewhere near hazel and keep with them the same sort of wicked innocent that marks his gait.
»»Clothing Style:[/i][/size]
Whatever he can find, honestly. Always dirty, usually patched, occasionally a Hook-stolen hand-me-down. Nothing matches, nothing really fits, shirts are comfortably optional. He doesn’t really care.
»»Defining Traits:[/i][/size]
His smile, certainly, and his laugh. It’s a bit hoarse, as though he’s used it one too many times, and always remains somewhat mocking no matter who he’s laughing at. There’s a lightness and self-assurance with which he carries himself that people also tend to remember.

Peter has many scars along his body, each with a story he can either tell or make up on the spot. The made up ones are always a bit ridiculous, but something about the earnestness with which he tells them makes them a bit more believable.

»»Likes:[/i][/size]
1. Pixie Dust
2. Tinker Bell, though not how she likes him
3. The Lost Boys
4. Leading things. Giving orders. The like.
5. The Neverwood
6. Fairies
7. Indians, when they’re friendly and when they’re not.
8. The fact that people sing songs about him
9. Hearing songs sung about him
10. Stories. About him.
11. Making pirates’ lives living hell, especially in public
12. Narrow escapes, adventures, anything that results in a near-death experience
13. Sex, dancing, music, anything either socially forbidden or producing of pleasure in any sort of way.
»»Dislikes:[/i][/size]
1. Captain Hook
2. Pirates
3. People who disobey orders. That is, his orders.
4. Bad Dust. Or the idea of it. He hasn’t come across any just yet.
5. Being wrong. Or, rather, being proven wrong irrefutably. He’s horribly reliant on what some might call “Truthiness”.
6. Counting
7. Reading. That is, he can’t.
8. Many of the people trying to get out of Neverland altogether. It’s nice enough, he thinks.
9. Dishonesty. Unfairness. The idea of a misplayed game.
10. Being cheated out of a challenge.
11. The idea of not being recognized, almost, sometimes, as much as being recognized.
12. Being called a contradiction. He doesn’t like the word. It sounds like paradox, and that just sounds plain evil. Not that he has a clue what either of them mean.
»»Strengths:[/i][/size]
Cleverness;; Now, this isn’t the intellectual sort we’re talking about here. More, Peter knows how to make spur-of-the-moment plans, knows how to execute them with as few resources as possible, and knows how to make getaways as quickly as can be done. He’s resourceful, perhaps is the better word.
Flattery;; Peter has never been one to tell things as they are. More, he speaks of things how he sees them, and without hesitation. If he thinks a girl is the most beautiful thing on the Earth in that moment, he’ll tell her he thinks she’s the most beautiful thing on the Earth. There’s something about his smile that makes it all seem rather innocent, as though he hasn’t a clue about what he wants, and the words just keep coming out. When on the receiving end of his compliments or flowers, it’s quite ravishing. When watching from the sidelines, perhaps it becomes a bit more exasperating.
»»Weaknesses:[/i][/size]
Cockiness;; Peter thinks far too highly of himself. There’s no other way to put this, it’s a fact. He doesn’t think so, of course. As far as he’s concerned, he tells the truth, the whole truth, and nothing else. However, because he’s so unashamedly confident, he tends to put himself in the most unwise of situations, under the impression that since he’s gotten out of something like them before, this new death-defying act of idiotic thrill-seeking must not be any different.
Pride;; Peter will do anything for a bit of praise. Flattery is his currency. He drinks it up like most need water, and he chews on it more hungrily than any sort of food. Consequently, he shows off. Often. Again, recklessness applies here astoundingly well simply because the boy will do anything it takes for a compliment, all without looking like that’s what he wants in the sort of way that makes it painfully obvious that is all he desires. He likes to be the best, and to be reassured that he is.
»»Habits:[/i][/size]
1. Not necessarily a habit, but there’s something about the way Peter moves that suggests he has little to no pattern to him. He’ll speed up, even run for a few seconds, only to stop suddenly and walk at the sort of leisurely pace that makes even the elderly want to pull their hair out. His attention span is that of a goldfish on crack.
2. Absolutely never, under any circumstances, will Peter ask anyone for anything. He demands.
3. Whenever he’s done something particularly clever—especially if it involves Pirate humiliation—Peter cups his hands around his mouth and crows. It’s a sound that, in the past few years, has actually become quite well-known throughout Neverland.
»»Personality:[/i][/size]
Hedonistic, cocky, clever, reckless, dangerous, forgetful, and presumptuous. Peter Pan is an outlaw on an island filled with criminals and criminals’ sons and daughters. He can fly, some say, really and truly fly. And although Peter won’t dismiss the rumors as untrue (he likes hearing stories about himself far too much), the fact is that he harbors a simple and, on occasion, rather crippling addiction of Pixie Dust. In those terms, he flies often and extraordinarily well. Most always under influence of the drug at least partially, Peter is in a near constant state of grinning, at least partially. There’s a slyness to the smile, a sort of mischievous glint in his eyes that hints at the danger that comes with being with him for even the briefest of moments, but no one that he’s liked has turned him down on an offer just yet.

Being near Peter is dangerous. He’s just as quick to temper as he is to laugh, and even being a part of his Lost Boys doesn’t exempt you from his anger. Disobeying his orders has strict punishments, and let it suffice to say that although most of the blood on his hands is Pirate, he’s had to deal out the ultimate punishment for betrayal, once or twice. Too, hurting girls is absolutely and completely against the rules. Banishment is the punishment for that particular crime, but when one has become known for cavorting with Neverland’s Most Wanted and even they throw him out, banishment seems almost worse than death. Apart from what Peter himself will do, there’s the inherent risks of putting your life in the hands of a well-known criminal. He does bad things. Or, rather, things that are seen as bad by the law, and more often than not are punishable in the most severe ways if caught. Moreoever, Peter doesn’t care about getting caught. He doesn’t care if he gets caught, if his companions get caught—in fact, sometimes it’s more exciting that way. And if a companion (that is, one who isn’t Tink) gets himself killed, Peter will more often than not forget about them altogether. It’s easier, only remembering the honorable blood on one’s hands.

Peter likes to feel special. Important. Unique. It’s necessary, if one is to live with him, to keep him seeing things that way for as long as possible. Now, more often than not, he’ll set up rules to keep things that way. For instance, none of the Lost Boys are allowed to get themselves their own Companion Fairies. Tinker Bell is and will forever be the only Fairy allowed into the Home Underground, no matter how many others he takes other places. Loyalty, too, is horrifically important to Peter. He’ll have nothing of people who aren’t willing to pledge their lives to him; whether or not they pay their due isn’t necessarily important, so long as they truly would, if the time came. That being said, Peter believes in fighting fair. For the most part. His definition of “fair” is a bit rough, as he’s lived by his own rules for the majority of his life. Still, it fits in a place like Neverland. Nothing there is clean-cut.

»»Family:[/i][/size]
Peter doesn’t know his parent’s names. He’s forgotten most everything about them besides the fact that they died because they stood up to Hook. Still, he doesn’t attribute that to his doing what he does. In fact, he likes to pretend they never existed at all.
»»Past:[/i][/size] At least 5 paragraphs.
»»Present:[/i][/size] At least 3 Paragraphs.
»»Other Info:[/i][/size]

»»Roleplayer Name:[/i][/size] Scout
»»Your Age:[/i][/size] Older than some, younger than others
»»Gender:[/i][/size] Girly
»»Experience:[/i][/size] Ummm…a few years?
»»How Did You Find Us?:[/i][/size] I help run this ship, yo.
»»RP Sample:[/i][/size]
Technically speaking, he shouldn’t have been here. He should have been at a nice little restaurant, a corner place with an awning and a soup of the day, and he should have been with Emma. And he did feel guilty about it. Not that he was standing her up—he wasn’t, and he wouldn’t, if they’d made plans—but that he was going behind her back—which he was, and he had been, on those days when they didn’t plan anything. It was cruel and there were occasions when it really did wrack him with guilt, the kind that woke him up at night and begged for him to call her up and confess the truth. He hated liars. Sometimes, he hated himself.

Richard was different than Emma, though. He understood. They couldn’t be together in the open, where people might see and whisper and wonder and eventually publish articles speculating about him and the man he was spending so much of his time with who didn’t work with him or know him from childhood and made him smile in a manner that looked a bit like a small Labrador puppy, all paws and tail-wagging and that big tongue and—God, he was pathetic, wasn’t he?

They’d met a little over a month ago. It’d been at a charity event—David’s, and so the proceeds had gone exactly where they ought to, thank you very much—and they’d talked. And then Richard had lost his wallet in the parking lot and David had helped find it and driven him home (entirely innocently, thank you) and he’d learned that the quiet man with the timid smile had been an artist. So, naturally, they’d exchanged numbers. David liked art. Richard made art. It was simple enough, no underlying suggestions in the action, and David certainly hadn’t tried turning the paper over and over again in his hand until the ink had smudged slightly before he’d finally worked up the nerve to pick up the phone and dial about three days after the whole thing. That would have been ridiculous.

David was, on occasion, exceptionally ridiculous.

Anyway, the secret was out now. Between them, it was fine. Richard knew, and he understood, and so it was safe for David to come see him. He wouldn’t tell. David trusted him. David trusted easily. He was usually right about people, though, and he never second guessed his decisions, much to the exasperation of some of his colleagues; but there were always other things to worry about. More important things, like the fact that he hadn’t seen Richard in a week or talked to him in upwards of three days, when they’d planned this meeting. His own fault, he knew. He wouldn’t blame the man, if he was mad at him. It wasn’t fair. It’d only been a handful of weeks, and David was already wondering why Richard bothered putting up with him; he wouldn’t put up with him. But he tried not to worry. He did a fairly good job of it, too.

David shuffled his feet a little when he reached the door, knocking three times before he stuffed his hands back into his jacket pockets and looked down. Rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, he whistled softly to himself, listened for the sound of the lock clicking, a small, somewhat sheepish smile spreading over his face when the door opened. “Hey. You still free?”

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