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Neverland
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Tootles
From
Peter Pan
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Played By
Purity
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Post by James Malet on Jan 12, 2017 11:22:22 GMT
James Malet, age eighteen, decidedly mute.
How does one become decidedly mute? Well, when one loses their marbles to extreme circumstances, that's usually the way it is. He had lost everything, all he really had, and just barely, was his name. But this was all well. He didn't need much. He had somewhere to go at night, food to eat, at the basics. But still, something kept him from verbally communicating with the people of this town. That was fine, though, it seemed he'd easily made friends anyways....
Oliver Vail... some dude he met, and was drawn to. An odd sense of familiarity James had called it. Like they knew each other. Oliver was always calling him up -- okay, texting him up. To go out and do something... usually in the middle of the night. Which is why James lay wide away in his bed. In his apartment. On the third story of this building. James looked at his watch. He would be here soon, or, at least that was his last text.
Don't move.
What could that mean? Was he going to scale the wall????
| MY SILENCE IS GOLDEN
SO DON'T FEAR |
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Neverland
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Keep living loud and proud. They never can hold you down.
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Nibs
From
Peter Pan
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Played By
Squishy
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Post by Oliver Vail on Jan 12, 2017 19:16:13 GMT
 THEY CALLED ME CRAZY
so I played along This seemed a lot easier in the movies. Like, ridiculously easier. Oliver wanted to make a big, pointless, grand entrance just to be funny so here he was, climbing the wall of James's apartment building. The guy that was probably his only friend in all of Storybrooke, and he was pretty sure that wasn't actually by choice.
Getting up to his place might not of been as difficult if James hadn't lived on the third floor. What ever happened to good old fire escapes? Oliver continuously had to grab awkward bricks and flimsy looking pipes just to shimmy his way up. He'd actually fallen the first time he'd tried, but luckily he hadn't been that far off the ground. Pulling off stupid stunts like this was his life. He was an adrenaline junkie who felt as though he had nothing to live for deep down inside. He doubted anyone would even notice if he died, so why not just make the most out of life while he could? This was what being young was all about.
His fingers finally grabbed hold of the board outside of the windowsill, and Oliver quickly (well, as quickly as one could with a leg dangling in the air) pulled himself on top of the small board that made up the sill. Clearing his throat, he shifted to the most comfortable sitting position he could manage (trying to look as cool as possible) before curling his fingers inside of his hand and knocking on the window three times, rather loudly, with no regard to the time of night it was. |
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