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Tweak says, "An ornamental hermit "

Tinker Bell (tink_says) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-03-21 01:13:00

Entry tags:

!complete, day 01, location: gym, martha jones, tinker bell

Day One: Morning
Who: Tinker Bell and Martha Jones
What: Tink and Martha wake up in the woods by the gym and find themselves 1) together and 2) someplace that definitely isn't where they should be.
When: Day One Morning (around 8:30am)
Where: In the woods by the gym
Rating: PG-13 for language and situational implications in pasts
Status: Complete

Things hadn't exactly been going Tinkerbell's way for a while now. If one bothered to ask her when her problems began, she would, most assuredly, tell you that they all started when Peter Pan met Wendy Darling and received a kiss from her. That, surely, had to be the single moment when it all began sliding, with increasing speed, straight down the hill. At that very moment, in fact, she had been locked up in a drawer! Never before had she experienced such an injustice or captivity. They were both unpleasant and unfamiliar. Unfortunately, injustice had become her new found friend. Wendy had stuck around. Her plans to be rid of the Wendy had failed, time and time again, and Peter had even taken to scolding her. Eventually, Peter had to let the Darlings go home. That had seemed like a stroke of luck! They were alone again, and there weren't even lost boys this time. Unfortunately, happiness was not hers for the taking. Peter, within a year, had all but completely forgotten her while she was right there in plain sight.

Nothing killed a fairy faster than being forgotten. It was a beautiful night, the moon was high and all was quiet. Neverland had never been the same after the death of most of the Indians and the execution of all of the Pirates. The Wild Beasts were hungry and had taken to hunting each other instead of hunting the Indians, Peter was flightier and more irritable than ever, and the fairies had full reign over whatever parts of the island they wanted. They mostly kept to Pixie Hollow, but they could wander without impunity. Tink, lonely and sad, had not moved back there. It probably would have been better if she had. As Peter began to forget her, she felt herself getting weaker and weaker. Eventually, this morning, she could no longer go on. She hadn't even said goodbye to Peter; there was no point, as he no longer saw or heard her. She had stretched herself, in some forgotten glade, on a mushroom, closed her eyes, and counted backwards, waiting for death to claim her.

It was chilly. If there was one thing that Tink had heard about the afterlife, if there was one, it was that you weren't really supposed to feel anything.

Her eyes began to flicker open, slowly, as if in disbelief, and she slowly began to realize that she was, somehow, still alive. Sitting up, she found that she was on the ground, laying in some very tall grass, and some gigantic trees were around her. They were not any of the familiar trees, though, so she was probably not where she'd fallen asleep. Her glow, once she was fully awake, began to reactivate itself. It was a pale, heatless, golden halo around her entire body. Standing up, fixing her hair, wanting to look her best if she was not, in fact, dead and there was someone around, she began scanning the area, trying to get her bearings.

"Woah," she said in fairy speak, which sounded, to most, like the jingling of bells. As she looked around, she noticed a dark skinned woman laying on the ground. The woman was huge! Yes, some of the Lost Boys had gotten pretty big (though she'd never figured how it was possible to get tubby off of imaginary food), but this woman was the biggest human she'd ever met. She dwarfed the Wendy. She was terrifying...and vastly fascinating at the same time!

Adjusting her dress, which was green and made of finely stitched leaves with golden accents, she primped and then began marching the vast wastes of ground between herself and the gigantic woman. The sky was ominous, a fitting background for this most excellent adventure, and she stood out against the darkness. Joy was beginning to fill her little heart. She was impossibly excited, and it showed in the brilliant golden glow of her aura. Bell was positively radiant. A hop and she was airborne, gossamer wings fluttering, though her trip was short. She landed, very delicately, on the woman's chest. Odd, it was differently shaped than the Wendy's. It was more like her own wonderfully curvaceous and attractive figure. Human children could seldom claim that. Fascinating, indeed! Walking up her chest, she gently gripped at the woman's chin and climbed up. Her hair blew back in the air from her breathing. Eyes wide, she hopped onto the woman's nose and took a seat, legs crossed, chin resting on her hands. Up close, she didn't look very out of the ordinary. Plain, even. Tink grinned to herself. This woman was acceptable; no way could she compete with her own ethereal beauty.

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tink_says
2009-03-29 08:05 pm UTC (link)

Though she was still frightened, the purple glow around her body faded into a deep, dark, morose and melancholy blue. "That's wretched," she remarked, her eyes looking down, "that you know someone like that. As much as I adored him, I will not lie to you. It's awful to know someone like that. It takes all your soul, all your strength, all your energy. It isn't good, it isn't fun, it isn't fair." And in Tinker's world, things were supposed to be fair. That, in fact, was probably what made fairies more like children than adults. They did not believe in injustice, and cheating was the end of it all.

What Martha failed to understand was that she hadn't wanted to let go. She wasn't ready. Peter had pried himself from her grasp, pushed her away, confined her to the darkness. There was no choice, no amicable parting of ways, just horror and pain and loss. He may as well have died; at least then she could have pretended that, even for a moment, she had possessed some claim on him. Peter, her Peter Pan, had never even been hers for one clear moment in time. She paused. No, not even when she was dying. Guilt had driven him, the fear of having blood on his hands that wasn't pirate blood, not any care for her.

Finding out who you are without him. If it was at all possible, Tink turned a deeper shade of blue and pale. She stood out in stark contrast to the colorless, gray day. Nobody, she thought, I'm nobody without Peter. Just a fairy. A pretty one, the pretty one, but I was who he needed me to be. Nobody needs me to be anything, not here, not anymore. Not even you, Martha.

"Oh, England, splendid," she said, but her color did not change. "And what part of England is Vas Capito in, pray, tell?" She was trying to cover up her sorrow with sarcasm and questions. Tink liked questions; they were fun. They did not seem to be working at the moment, though. Still, she'd keep trying. There was no alternative.

A school. She'd heard Peter mention school. Where? "Oh!" she remarked, the blue fading out a little, "Peter and the Lost Boy and" a cough, then, quickly, "the Wendy used to play school in the burrow. It was always fun to watch, but I found it impossibly common. I was, apparently, right. School's purpose, also, is only to make adults out of children. What fun is that? If children realized that they'd never go."

"I think that we should take the road less traveled," she agreed, motioning to the mysterious, unknown lands that lay down the road. She liked spending time with Martha. At least they were having an adventure; it couldn't be all bad.

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properdoctor
2009-03-30 12:54 am UTC (link)

“It wasn’t wreched, actually. He and I had some really-really great adventures together. He showed me amazing things.” But Martha knew the truth in Tink’s words. Sometimes it did take all your soul and strength. But, she supposed, it was easier for her because she wasn’t stuck with one emotion. “No. It isn’t fair.” Martha agreed softly.

Martha frowned at the startling shades of blue Tink was turning. However pretty, Martha was a fast study and this probably meant something not good. Her words only seemed to make things worse. “Uh- oh. I’m not sure. Vas Capito, is on our kits, so” she shrugged. “It’s the best guess I can make since I don’t actually know where we are. And saying we’re ‘Here in this Land’ over and over seems silly.”

Relieved, Martha watched the color change slightly. “Well, school can have more then one agenda. Sometimes it’s used to help turn adults into children” Pink Floyd’s song, Another Brick in the Wall, popped into her head as she spoke. “It is a place to learn. You know how you like to learn new words and things? Schools can do that too. Which is what makes it interesting for the kids, although you’re right. Sometimes kids don’t want to go. They try to skip out, or pretend they’re sick so they don’t have to go.” Martha grinned remembering when Leo would do that. “I always liked school myself.”

Tink chose the road less traveled as well. She nodded her agreement. “Alright, it looks like we’re going to get clear weather for awhile yet. Maybe you could scout ahead for a second, make sure the cost is clear before I follow along?” Martha asked, trying to get Tink to go back to her normal color, or at least one less blue.

“Or we could Race…from here to the end of that tree?” Martha was pretty sure she’d loose. But it’d still be fun.

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tink_says
2009-03-30 01:14 am UTC (link)

One less blue was what she got, but it quickly turned to a faint green. And green meant the same thing in fairy colors as it meant in the human world. "You got to go someplace where they actually taught you new words and things? That isn't fair!" She gasped, astounded, and a little bit annoyed. But the jealousy won out. It wasn't cruel jealousy. She had no malice behind it. Again, though, it seemed completely unfair. "That isn't fair. I never got to go to school. Nobody ever taught me things. I've been learning words from people on my own study, piecing together what many of them mean. I can't read a word, either. Not well. It takes me forever to try to read, and nothing ever sounds like it's spelled, so it's very, very hard." She stomped her foot slightly, letting out a little "hmph" sound. Bragging time. "Fairies are born knowing how to completely speak our language. We know Fairy Speak from the very moment that a child laughs us into existence." Yeah, that didn't sound so impressive at the moment.

After a moment, the green had passed, and she was her typical white / gold once more. She smiled faintly at Martha. "I do like the sound of 'Here in this Land.' You truly don't? I think it sounds funny, like when Peter and the Lost Boys would play Explorer and would conquer other lands, like the Indian camp when they were out hunting. It was always funny to see the savages come back and find us sitting in their headdresses and sleeping in their tee-pees. Angry Indians are quite an adventure."

She hopped into the air and flitted around Martha a few times. "I can scout. A race would be no fun. I'd beat you without a doubt. I'm feeling energetic at the moment. That means when I finally fall asleep I am going to crash, and hard. It's better if you don't engage me in competition at this time, though, because I have enough pent up energy to carry me on and on for hours."

Pausing, Tink gave a little shrug. "While scouting is good, though, don't you think it would be more fun if we went at it together, though? I mean, we don't need Peter or that other guy you're talking about; let's just go of our own accord, and together."

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properdoctor
2009-03-30 02:34 am UTC (link)

Green, was a little better then blue, Martha thought. “Well, it’s normal for human children.” She tried to say, but Tink kept talking. Martha pressed her lips together, hiding a smile. Yeah, much better then blue, she thought. “Well, if you’ve been learning on your own you’ve done a great job Tink. And if we have time, and you’d like, I can start trying to teach you the basics. Spelling and such.” Martha offered, lifting her shoulder slightly. “I might not be a very good teacher though.” She warned.

“Really? Humans have to learn everything slowly, we’re born knowing almost nothing. We have to learn everything from walking, to speaking. Nothing really comes naturally to us like that.” She said, trying to make Tink feel better. Which it was all true, “wait, that’s how you came into existence? By a child’s laughter? That’s amazing.”

“I’m not sure. It seems silly to me.” Martha gave an apologetic smile. “But you can call it that if you like. I’ll know what you mean.” She listened to the little woman talk about Indians and exploring. “I have no doubt it was Ms. Tink, I have no doubt. I don’t think I’ve ever been chased by Indians. Once by a Sun creature, but no Indians”

“Alright, then no competitions.” Martha agreed readily. “You know Tinker Bell, I think you are exactly right. It’ll be much more fun with just the two of us. Together.” Martha smiled, and zipped up her coat, heading down the warn path. She walked a few feet in silence. "I'm glad you're who I woke up next to Tink. You've made this entire thing a bit more fun." She smiled at her friend.

“So, Tink, are all the fairies as fun as you?” Martha asked, kicking a stone out of her way, before glancing up. They were coming up on something, but it was still to far away to tell what it was other then a building.

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tink_says
2009-03-30 02:49 am UTC (link)

"Spelling lessons. That would be wonderful." She smiled and stretched a little, perching herself on Martha's shoulder carefully. "We'll have to do that as soon as we can. Maybe we can find a run down school after all, and then we can really play school. That would be a wonderfully fun adventure, don't you think? I do. Though you already know how to spell, so it might be a little bit boring for you."

"Fairies are born from the first laugh of a child knowing how to talk, how to fly, and fully grown. There are no fairy children. All that grows about us, really, is our mind. We learn things. We start off very childish. Eventually we understand more and more. We pick up trades. We fly around the Neverland. We travel to Earth. There's nothing like the first child that you ever see. You don't, after all, see the one that creates you. You're too busy trying to get away and go to Fairy Hollow. Peter was my first child. He was a lost child. He wanted to go someplace where he'd never have to grow up. He wanted to be a boy forever. So I took him with us. He learned to play the pipes for all of the fairy balls and dances and orgies. Peter Pan. He was my boy, and I thought I was his fairy. Until he told me that he didn't want me, that I couldn't be his fairy because I was a girl, and he was a boy." She wrinkled her nose. "Stupid ass. And that's pretty much all there is to know about fairies. We enjoy each other's company physically and emotionally, but once in a while there's one like me who prefers the company of humans. Not that I didn't have my fair share of fairy encounters, but it's far easier to get attached to humans. You live lives that are so much more adventurous and complex. And fairy lives are, supposedly, very short. But we're smaller, so we don't really notice as much when things are shorter." She grinned cheekily. "I've cheated death twice now."

"Of course not all the fairies are as fun as me. I told you, I'm only average in one respect, and that is height. Me? Well, I'm just extraordinary in every way."

She was not about to tell Martha just how fairies could be killed. That was unnecessary information. People sometimes got tempted when they had that knowledge. There was no need. She seemed to be the only fairy around, and she didn't want to be dying.

She giggled, lightly squeezing Martha's shoulder. Fairies didn't often get sentimental. Tink, in particular, had a hard time taking anything seriously ever and at all. "I'm glad that I woke up next to you, Martha Jones."

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