UnseenMaiden
We are but shadows
- Joined
- Feb 13, 2008
- Posts
- 3,688
“But Wendy, darling, do reconsider. You didn’t seem to mind Mr. Roberts' company at all when he accompanied you these past few months.”
“No! I won’t do it! I shan’t marry him!”
Heaving herself off of the bed, she stormed quite furiously from the four-postered affair over to her rather demure vanity that stood out as far more important than it was between two paintings. They were not her paintings. Her paintings had been taken down almost a fortnight ago in favor of her parent’s silhouettes that now graced the walls. As much as she loved her mother and father, she would rather have had the images that she herself had brought into being. Unfortunately her mother had them hid somewhere she could not possibly find them (and she had most definitely looked). Now that she was there, staring into the mirror, she found herself at a loss for anything to do. It was now mid-morning, so she had already dressed for the day and even had breakfast. So she grabbed her brush and pulled the bristles forcibly through her wavy hair. At least that was not tamed yet by the coiffures that had become so stylish of late. Her mother was only a little impressed by her daughter’s temper and gave her a placating smile, coupled with a very knowing, non-placating gaze, before coming behind her and taking the poor brush from her hand to do the job of arranging her hair correctly.
“I just don’t understand. You certainly like him well-enough and he seems a very nice boy. I’m sure you would be happy with him.”
Wendy gave a very un-lady like snort at this and let her eyes shift to the window near her. Her mother most certainly understood Wendy’s position and even the reasons behind them. After all, Mrs. Darling’s secret kiss had been missing for quite some time and it was most certainly not Mr. Darling that had claimed it. She may have been decidedly immature but she was neither naive nor foolish and she would not repeat her mother’s mistake of allowing the first nice man make her a ‘happy’ woman.
“Happy with whom, Mother?”
Both of the women looked up at the boy, now quickly turning into a rather distinguished gentleman, who was soon accompanied by another, only he was still quite a bit more boy than man at this moment. Seeing them, Wendy ran to the door, abandoning her partially pinned up-do and hugged her brothers.
“Oh, John, Michael, you understand, don’t you? I promised after all.”
Neither of them had the time to answer for as soon as they opened their mouths, Mrs. Darling’s voice drowned out any words they had thought to say.
“Is that what this is all about?! Wendy Moira Angela Darling! You are going on a score and two and are far, far too old for such childish fancies. When are you going to forget all of that foolishness and grow up!?!”
It was at that moment that Wendy lost every amount of patience that she had vainly managed to hold onto. This resulted in her wheeling around on her mother, a fire in her eyes that she had not held since she was a child, sword in hand as she fought for her very life.
“Never! I will never ever grow up and you can not make me no matter what you do. Isn’t it enough, Mother? Isn’t it enough that I pretend to be grown and play the part of the young lady seeking a husband? Or should I become like you, Mother, only merely content with what I have?”
Those last words. She had gone too far and the four there all knew it. Mother’s secret kiss and then its’ absence was something that not a one had referred to out loud since the incident. It was too much of a testimony to what she had given up for all of them and Father. Mrs. Darling poured all her love into her children and even cared greatly for her husband. Which was why she did not shout, as Wendy so selfishly had, but only flushed with some unseen emotion and quietly left the room. John was not entirely sure if Father’s absence for an important business trip was a good or bad thing at this moment, but all the same he left Michael to handle their sister and went after Mrs. Darling himself.
It was some time after, that Michael finally spoke and by then Wendy had already recognized her mistake and was crying quite silent, large tears on the edge of her bed. Michael was old enough to realize that he was not entirely sure nor competent with comforting crying girls, but young enough that he could still get away with reasoning that his sister did not count as a girl and so was able to place an arm around her shoulder as he sat on the bed and hugged her to him.
“Wendy, Mother is right. You have to stop this. I miss Peter and the adventures just as much as you but it was only make-believe after all. It was certainly vivid. I still dream about it once in a blue moon, but that’s no reason not to go on with your life. After all, even if it really did all happen, we’re all far too old to go to Neverland now.”
Her only answer really was to shake her head and stifle a loud sob when she actually tried to respond with words. Wendy wasn’t sure what broke her heart more; that her family did not support her, or that even her brothers were forgetting. They were leaving her behind and growing up, but as much as that thought filled her with some kind of cold dread, she couldn’t bring herself to go with them. To think that once she had truly wished to grow up. It had taken some time, too late for her to stop her body from maturing, but she’d eventually figured out why Peter hated the idea so very much. Grown-ups forgot their childhoods. Oh sure they remembered events and their reaction to them, but they forgot how to have fun. They forgot how to have adventures, how to play pretend, and how to dream with everything in them.
In the end, it turned out she didn’t want to be like them at all. So she hung fiercely onto Peter’s promise to bring her back to Neverland for spring cleaning. She made sure that inside she was most definitely still a child. Except, he only came ever twice and then never and after a time Mother mentioned that Wendy most definitely had a secret kiss of her own and suddenly she was a woman. Then there was a coming out party and soirées, suitors and proposals, idle prattle and shopping to keep in style. It was so very much nonsense that it made her head spin. Mother was right, after all though. Jeremy Roberts was a perfectly nice man. He always made certain that she was comfortable and tried so very hard to make her laugh when he realized her boredom at these stuffy events. He was her friend and she had quite thought that it would always be that way. Then he’d come one rainy evening and spoke with her father behind closed doors for some time. He wanted to marry her and her parents were very pleased by the news and whole-heartedly gave their approval. Wendy, however, did not.
“Oh, Michael, I can’t. Even if it takes my entire life, I just can’t do what is expected of me. I know it’s selfish, but I feel I should almost die of melancholy if I let poor Jeremy take me for his bride. He is my friend, after all, and he deserves someone that will actually be deliriously happy about spending her life with him, not merely content.”
Michael only sighed and shook his head as he rubbed the shoulder that was not pressed against him at the moment. He used to believe in Peter Pan and so had John and Nana, but Nana had died a few years ago of old age and John had stopped talking about the immortal boy, little by little, until it stopped completely. The lost boys were surprisingly quite easily made into common adults, but they were still called ‘lost’ (though only Wendy now knew why and among the others it was only mentioned as boyhood fancy). Michael really couldn’t have said why he had stopped believing or what could have caused the conversion. Only he could not think of any reason as to why he’d believed in the first place. Plus little things had begun to hold more presence in his thoughts; girls, money, a career, responsibilities, until he had very little time at all to dwell on stories his sister would tell him when they were kids. It was his opinion that Wendy had an overly-romantic mind and had just taken life a little too hard. Eventually, she would realize that she held a perfectly lovely life now and had no need for nursery stories.
_____
She was drifting in that place between dreaming and awake. Sometimes, she did not see Neverland, which worried her a great deal, but she always saw Peter. He was always off having adventures. Yet, oddly enough, she found that they were beginning to repeat themselves. As if she were not seeing them, but the memory of them and this worried her a great deal more than not glimpsing Neverland. Unfortunately, Wendy almost never remembered that peculiar place in any sort of detail and so tended to fret from time to time without quite knowing the reason why.
Now she woke in the depths of night with that same unreasonable worry and it perplexed her so that it was some time until she noticed the sound. It was a very peculiar sound, one that she had heard before. Someone was crying. Not only that. They were crying on the floor of her bedroom and she had to crawl to the edge and tilt her head just so the light from the burgeoning moon would illuminate her weeping visitor.
It was at that moment that she noticed two things at once. Her bedroom window was flung wide open, though it was not as if she ever kept it locked, and her nightlight had extinguished itself. It was rather a silly thing for her to have in the first place, she thought. If her family was so terribly insistent on her being an adult, then why did her Mother make sure that the oil lamp was burning strong and bright each night when she went to sleep? Then she took note of exactly who was sitting on her bedroom floor and her heart most certainly stopped for half a moment.
“Hullo”
At her voice, he looked up at her, wiping the evidence of shiny tears from his cheeks and eyes. Then he stood up and swept her a grand bow. Wendy was torn, but could do no less than to bob in an imitation of a curtsy on her bed. This was him. This was Peter Pan. She was almost certain of it, except he had changed. Some of his baby teeth were missing and he’d grown taller with a hint of weariness lingering behind his mischievous eyes that had most certainly not been there before. Still, she decided he must be her Peter after all and it had been him she had heard upon waking.
“Boy, why are you crying?”
(OOC: arg ok so hmm I'm not entirely sure if it is a secret or not but I am most certainly ( and probably permanently) enamored of Peter Pan. Always have been. Now before I get any accusations of being a pedophile, when I think of Peter and Neverland, I always think of him as himself and me as very little more or less than ten. I think of adventures and fighting pirates. Of swimming with mermaids and running fast and wild through the densest forests you've ever seen. Rarely do I ever consider him in romantic means and even less as any sort of responsible adult.
Yet I'm also a shipper. I want him and Wendy together. Unfortunately Peter is a rather selfish and over all classic type of boy and would not even consider holding Wendy's hand unless he was pulling her off for an adventure or playing pretend. So this means either tons and tons of never-ending angst on Wendy's part or that he would have to be some sort of grown to even consider her as more than a friend and mothering figure.
With that out of the way.. to anyone considering this I have a few requirements.
*First and most importantly.. read the book by J.M. Barrie.. as much as I enjoy Hook, the 2003 Peter Pan(bloody glorious it is), the 1960 Peter Pan (most know it as the one with the woman playing Peter), and yes even Disney's version (though the sequel was absolute crock).. the original is what I go by.
*Second .. I have absolutely no idea why Peter has turned out different (beyond needing it for evident plot reasons) so put a lot of imagination into some prologue on the sample intro I demand be noted to me before you just go and post (though if you're not sure on something you can throw it my way and I'll give opinions)
*Third.. this will be a slow process... slow got it? sssssssssslllllllllllllllllloooooooowwwwwwwwww ..Neither Peter's childishness nor Wendys upbringing allows for an oh hey look I just want to fuck kind of moment between them
*Fourth... Peter is a cocky, heartless, forgetful, lovable ass..... it's what makes him him..... tweaks I can manage but don't go changing his personality into being some sort of somber all-business man.... I will stab you..))
“No! I won’t do it! I shan’t marry him!”
Heaving herself off of the bed, she stormed quite furiously from the four-postered affair over to her rather demure vanity that stood out as far more important than it was between two paintings. They were not her paintings. Her paintings had been taken down almost a fortnight ago in favor of her parent’s silhouettes that now graced the walls. As much as she loved her mother and father, she would rather have had the images that she herself had brought into being. Unfortunately her mother had them hid somewhere she could not possibly find them (and she had most definitely looked). Now that she was there, staring into the mirror, she found herself at a loss for anything to do. It was now mid-morning, so she had already dressed for the day and even had breakfast. So she grabbed her brush and pulled the bristles forcibly through her wavy hair. At least that was not tamed yet by the coiffures that had become so stylish of late. Her mother was only a little impressed by her daughter’s temper and gave her a placating smile, coupled with a very knowing, non-placating gaze, before coming behind her and taking the poor brush from her hand to do the job of arranging her hair correctly.
“I just don’t understand. You certainly like him well-enough and he seems a very nice boy. I’m sure you would be happy with him.”
Wendy gave a very un-lady like snort at this and let her eyes shift to the window near her. Her mother most certainly understood Wendy’s position and even the reasons behind them. After all, Mrs. Darling’s secret kiss had been missing for quite some time and it was most certainly not Mr. Darling that had claimed it. She may have been decidedly immature but she was neither naive nor foolish and she would not repeat her mother’s mistake of allowing the first nice man make her a ‘happy’ woman.
“Happy with whom, Mother?”
Both of the women looked up at the boy, now quickly turning into a rather distinguished gentleman, who was soon accompanied by another, only he was still quite a bit more boy than man at this moment. Seeing them, Wendy ran to the door, abandoning her partially pinned up-do and hugged her brothers.
“Oh, John, Michael, you understand, don’t you? I promised after all.”
Neither of them had the time to answer for as soon as they opened their mouths, Mrs. Darling’s voice drowned out any words they had thought to say.
“Is that what this is all about?! Wendy Moira Angela Darling! You are going on a score and two and are far, far too old for such childish fancies. When are you going to forget all of that foolishness and grow up!?!”
It was at that moment that Wendy lost every amount of patience that she had vainly managed to hold onto. This resulted in her wheeling around on her mother, a fire in her eyes that she had not held since she was a child, sword in hand as she fought for her very life.
“Never! I will never ever grow up and you can not make me no matter what you do. Isn’t it enough, Mother? Isn’t it enough that I pretend to be grown and play the part of the young lady seeking a husband? Or should I become like you, Mother, only merely content with what I have?”
Those last words. She had gone too far and the four there all knew it. Mother’s secret kiss and then its’ absence was something that not a one had referred to out loud since the incident. It was too much of a testimony to what she had given up for all of them and Father. Mrs. Darling poured all her love into her children and even cared greatly for her husband. Which was why she did not shout, as Wendy so selfishly had, but only flushed with some unseen emotion and quietly left the room. John was not entirely sure if Father’s absence for an important business trip was a good or bad thing at this moment, but all the same he left Michael to handle their sister and went after Mrs. Darling himself.
It was some time after, that Michael finally spoke and by then Wendy had already recognized her mistake and was crying quite silent, large tears on the edge of her bed. Michael was old enough to realize that he was not entirely sure nor competent with comforting crying girls, but young enough that he could still get away with reasoning that his sister did not count as a girl and so was able to place an arm around her shoulder as he sat on the bed and hugged her to him.
“Wendy, Mother is right. You have to stop this. I miss Peter and the adventures just as much as you but it was only make-believe after all. It was certainly vivid. I still dream about it once in a blue moon, but that’s no reason not to go on with your life. After all, even if it really did all happen, we’re all far too old to go to Neverland now.”
Her only answer really was to shake her head and stifle a loud sob when she actually tried to respond with words. Wendy wasn’t sure what broke her heart more; that her family did not support her, or that even her brothers were forgetting. They were leaving her behind and growing up, but as much as that thought filled her with some kind of cold dread, she couldn’t bring herself to go with them. To think that once she had truly wished to grow up. It had taken some time, too late for her to stop her body from maturing, but she’d eventually figured out why Peter hated the idea so very much. Grown-ups forgot their childhoods. Oh sure they remembered events and their reaction to them, but they forgot how to have fun. They forgot how to have adventures, how to play pretend, and how to dream with everything in them.
In the end, it turned out she didn’t want to be like them at all. So she hung fiercely onto Peter’s promise to bring her back to Neverland for spring cleaning. She made sure that inside she was most definitely still a child. Except, he only came ever twice and then never and after a time Mother mentioned that Wendy most definitely had a secret kiss of her own and suddenly she was a woman. Then there was a coming out party and soirées, suitors and proposals, idle prattle and shopping to keep in style. It was so very much nonsense that it made her head spin. Mother was right, after all though. Jeremy Roberts was a perfectly nice man. He always made certain that she was comfortable and tried so very hard to make her laugh when he realized her boredom at these stuffy events. He was her friend and she had quite thought that it would always be that way. Then he’d come one rainy evening and spoke with her father behind closed doors for some time. He wanted to marry her and her parents were very pleased by the news and whole-heartedly gave their approval. Wendy, however, did not.
“Oh, Michael, I can’t. Even if it takes my entire life, I just can’t do what is expected of me. I know it’s selfish, but I feel I should almost die of melancholy if I let poor Jeremy take me for his bride. He is my friend, after all, and he deserves someone that will actually be deliriously happy about spending her life with him, not merely content.”
Michael only sighed and shook his head as he rubbed the shoulder that was not pressed against him at the moment. He used to believe in Peter Pan and so had John and Nana, but Nana had died a few years ago of old age and John had stopped talking about the immortal boy, little by little, until it stopped completely. The lost boys were surprisingly quite easily made into common adults, but they were still called ‘lost’ (though only Wendy now knew why and among the others it was only mentioned as boyhood fancy). Michael really couldn’t have said why he had stopped believing or what could have caused the conversion. Only he could not think of any reason as to why he’d believed in the first place. Plus little things had begun to hold more presence in his thoughts; girls, money, a career, responsibilities, until he had very little time at all to dwell on stories his sister would tell him when they were kids. It was his opinion that Wendy had an overly-romantic mind and had just taken life a little too hard. Eventually, she would realize that she held a perfectly lovely life now and had no need for nursery stories.
_____
She was drifting in that place between dreaming and awake. Sometimes, she did not see Neverland, which worried her a great deal, but she always saw Peter. He was always off having adventures. Yet, oddly enough, she found that they were beginning to repeat themselves. As if she were not seeing them, but the memory of them and this worried her a great deal more than not glimpsing Neverland. Unfortunately, Wendy almost never remembered that peculiar place in any sort of detail and so tended to fret from time to time without quite knowing the reason why.
Now she woke in the depths of night with that same unreasonable worry and it perplexed her so that it was some time until she noticed the sound. It was a very peculiar sound, one that she had heard before. Someone was crying. Not only that. They were crying on the floor of her bedroom and she had to crawl to the edge and tilt her head just so the light from the burgeoning moon would illuminate her weeping visitor.
It was at that moment that she noticed two things at once. Her bedroom window was flung wide open, though it was not as if she ever kept it locked, and her nightlight had extinguished itself. It was rather a silly thing for her to have in the first place, she thought. If her family was so terribly insistent on her being an adult, then why did her Mother make sure that the oil lamp was burning strong and bright each night when she went to sleep? Then she took note of exactly who was sitting on her bedroom floor and her heart most certainly stopped for half a moment.
“Hullo”
At her voice, he looked up at her, wiping the evidence of shiny tears from his cheeks and eyes. Then he stood up and swept her a grand bow. Wendy was torn, but could do no less than to bob in an imitation of a curtsy on her bed. This was him. This was Peter Pan. She was almost certain of it, except he had changed. Some of his baby teeth were missing and he’d grown taller with a hint of weariness lingering behind his mischievous eyes that had most certainly not been there before. Still, she decided he must be her Peter after all and it had been him she had heard upon waking.
“Boy, why are you crying?”
(OOC: arg ok so hmm I'm not entirely sure if it is a secret or not but I am most certainly ( and probably permanently) enamored of Peter Pan. Always have been. Now before I get any accusations of being a pedophile, when I think of Peter and Neverland, I always think of him as himself and me as very little more or less than ten. I think of adventures and fighting pirates. Of swimming with mermaids and running fast and wild through the densest forests you've ever seen. Rarely do I ever consider him in romantic means and even less as any sort of responsible adult.
Yet I'm also a shipper. I want him and Wendy together. Unfortunately Peter is a rather selfish and over all classic type of boy and would not even consider holding Wendy's hand unless he was pulling her off for an adventure or playing pretend. So this means either tons and tons of never-ending angst on Wendy's part or that he would have to be some sort of grown to even consider her as more than a friend and mothering figure.
With that out of the way.. to anyone considering this I have a few requirements.
*First and most importantly.. read the book by J.M. Barrie.. as much as I enjoy Hook, the 2003 Peter Pan(bloody glorious it is), the 1960 Peter Pan (most know it as the one with the woman playing Peter), and yes even Disney's version (though the sequel was absolute crock).. the original is what I go by.
*Second .. I have absolutely no idea why Peter has turned out different (beyond needing it for evident plot reasons) so put a lot of imagination into some prologue on the sample intro I demand be noted to me before you just go and post (though if you're not sure on something you can throw it my way and I'll give opinions)
*Third.. this will be a slow process... slow got it? sssssssssslllllllllllllllllloooooooowwwwwwwwww ..Neither Peter's childishness nor Wendys upbringing allows for an oh hey look I just want to fuck kind of moment between them
*Fourth... Peter is a cocky, heartless, forgetful, lovable ass..... it's what makes him him..... tweaks I can manage but don't go changing his personality into being some sort of somber all-business man.... I will stab you..))
Last edited:
