Tinker Bell (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} tink_says) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} vas_captio_rpg,@ 2009-04-03 01:49:00 |
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What: After having stormed out feeling rejected, Tinker is on her own, regretting being impulsive and lost in the dark.
When: Night, just before midnight; quite a long while after the Thrift Store thread
Where: The cemetery behind the church
Rating: TBD
Status: Dropped
Cemeteries did not exist where Tinker Bell came from. Relatively few people in the Neverland ever died, and when they did there was usually no one to bury them, either through lack of care, attention, forethought, or presence. Fairies faded into nothingness when they died; they did not leave bodies behind. They became one with the universe and everything, much as she had been prepared to do. They found their genesis in laughter and childhood and their end in denial and disbelief. As she did not know anyone who had ever died, she had no reason to know what a cemetery was other than a place with nice, odd, vertical rocks that made for good sitting. She had no idea that many thought of them as scary or haunted. If she had, she probably would not have been quite so sad. Meeting a ghost would have been a wonderful adventure.
Her glow was a bright, deep, morose blue in the darkness of the night, and she had to admit that it didn't quite capture the depth of her sorrow and disappointment. While she had been a brilliant scarlet earlier, she'd had some time to let that emotion fade. Being able to only contain one emotion at a time, however, was impossibly problematic. It made you impulsive. You had absolutely nothing to temper what you were feeling, and your emotions were constantly shifting. Why had she thought ill of Martha, her human? Why had she gotten so furious at her?
After a good long time thinking about it, she knew why she was so upset. In helping other people, in getting to know them, in being a doctor for all, she had become less Tink's human. There was less of a possessive. She felt like Martha was trying to leave her, that she wasn't good enough, that there was some flaw with herself. Martha was looking for outside companionship, people who didn't belong with the two of them, and she had immediately jumped to the conclusion that it was because there was something inherently wrong with human/fairy relations. She had not had the time to fight her emotions to think that, just maybe, Martha still adored her just as much, if not more, than she had when they'd woken up the day before. It had not come into her brain that maybe Martha was showing her off. Also, she hadn't stopped to consider that maybe Martha didn't really want them there but was just being nice. Tink didn't understand "just being nice." Not in that sense. She didn't want common people with them. She wanted to go on adventures with Martha Jones the doctor, and she wanted it to be just them. The fairy wanted to be the most interesting, novel, and important thing in Martha's life.
Sobbing, arms moving around legs, Tink hugged her knees to her chest. Tears were streaming down her pale face, her wings drooping, her red hair matted and wet. She was lost, she was sad, and she was scared. It was not often that she was alone, and it had never happened that she was alone and lost and somewhere unfamiliar. Upon leaving the thrift shop she had flown around in such a rage that she had not noticed the setting sun. When she had begun to calm down, the sun was gone and it was night. She'd gotten turned around even more and now she couldn't distinguish anything in the dark. This, surely, was it. She was going to end up with wounds.
As she sat in the cemetery, alone and lonely, she could not keep her mind from wondering if there were creatures here that liked to eat fairies.