Of Paint and Paste

[forever_aboy]

Who: Peter Pan and Open
When: After his bannister sliding
Where: Art room... hallway... ending up in the lounge
What: Peter Pan finds paste and paint. Need I say more?

Comments

[alittlemad]

Norman wandered the halls, killing time before lunch - he had a book stuffed in his pocket, but was feeling too listless to read it. His life hadn't exactly been much more thrilling at home - living the way he did meant he spent whole days and weeks alone apart from Mother - but being completely alone, without Mother to take of, was taking its toll on him. It didn't exactly occur to him to make friends, either; while he'd talked amicably enough with some of the other residents, he didn't tend to seek them out for company.

He missed mother. He missed grocery trips to Fairvale. He could almost even convince himself he missed changing the unused sheets at the motel every week.

Lost in his thoughts, Norman didn't notice the paint until he stepped in something wet with a definite squelch. Stopping in his tracks, he blinked and looked around, lifting one foot to look at the bottom of his shoe

[forever_aboy]

Peter looked up at the clearing of a throat. Another adult. "You're not a pirate either," he stated more than asked. He could really remember the other people he'd met; maybe he had met this one before. But he did know that no one was a pirate. No one for him to kill.

He looked down at his lap again and saw the white sticky stuff. "Do you want some?" he asked suddenly eager. "I was hungry and it was in a room with lots of paper and colored water!" Colored water that, mixed with dirt gave him a wild boy look. More so than usual at least. "It's quite yummy!"

[alittlemad]

Norman blinked, taken off guard. Of course he wasn't a pirate. He opened his mouth to answer, but then the eager little boy was saying more. Norman stepped forward to get a better look, peering curiously at what the boy was eating.

"...That's not food," he said after a moment. "That's paste." He grinned, suddenly amused. "You're eating paste."

[forever_aboy]

Peter looked up. "What do you mean it's not food? It tastes like food." But, as the man was talking, his stomach started to feel a little weird.

[alittlemad]

"It's paste," repeated Norman. "For pas - er, for sticking things together. Like paper and things." And dead birds, but no need to go into that right this moment.

[forever_aboy]

Peter cocked his head. "But nothing's sticking... unless." Suddenly his face lights up again. "Is my belly sticking to itself on the inside? That's so cool!" Because Peter Pan knew he could just imagine real food that would satisfy him later... he always forgot that didn't work here in this hotel.

[alittlemad]

Norman shook his head a little, perturbed by the mental image. "You're supposed to let it dry," he said. "I don't think it can...."

...Could it?

[forever_aboy]

"Oh." Peter said looking slightly crestfallen. "Well... it's kind of like food. Like the pink clouds out by the really fast train and the... bubbly stuff..." The multicolored boy took another large mouthful of paste.

"Do you live here too?"

[alittlemad]

"Hunh-uh," said Norman, shaking his head. Was the kid dumb? "It's not food."

He stepped gingerly further into the room, looking around at the mess the boy had made. "Yeah," he said. "I mean - I mean, no. I'm going to go home."

[forever_aboy]

Peter was not dumb! Just... uneducated and naive. He did stand eagerly when the man mentioned home.

"You can leave!? They told me no one could leave. But I would love to get back to Neverland. There are no pirates here. And no Injuns. Or beasts. Or lost boys. Or mermaids. And I can't fly. I hate not flying. But if you can go home that means I can go home to!"

[alittlemad]

The eagerness was...unexpected. Most people responded to Norman's assertions that he wasn't staying in this place with dismissal.

"Uhm," he said uncomfortably, not sure how to handle this. "I - I mean - I mean, I don't want to stay here."

[forever_aboy]

Peter had not been here long enough to really understand he couldn't leave. "And you just said you were going to go home. I can come with you... and then I'll find Tink. She always finds me you know. And then we'll go back to Neverland and I'll talk to the stars again!"

[alittlemad]

"I guess?" shrugged Norman. "I just - I haven't - I don't know how yet. But I'm going to go home. Eventually. Because I can't just stay here. That's what I meant."

[forever_aboy]

"Oh." Peter looked at him askance. And then he stood up and picked up a pillow, giving it accidental paint smudges in the process. The man was back pedaling. Like all adults. And he was boring. He had also said that paste made things stick to other things. Which was much more interesting. Holding the pillow under his arm, Peter painted paste on the wall and then pushed the pillow against it.

[alittlemad]

Norman would argue that he never actually said he knew how to get home, or when he would do it. That is, he'd argue that if he knew what Peter was thinking or had the social confidence.

"...What are you doing now?" he asked, watching the boy faff about with the pillow, his own head tilted in confusion.

[forever_aboy]

"You said paste is sticky. So I'm making it stick," he said stepping back from the wall and looking rather pleased with himself. He ran for another pillow.