Peter's Mailbox.

Dated to the last week of March.It'd been like this for a couple of days. Jill would work - actually work at the Psych Office, for all that it was practicum- and she'd train, and then... this. She'd sit on the sand, staring out at the ocean, her chin resting on her knee. She wondered why she made the choices she'd made, and what the future would be ( Read more... )

Peter and Jill just spending an afternoon hanging out, circa mid-January, 2009.He'd listened when she'd told him what happened, he'd sought her out when she'd been shut in, and yet Jill was surprised that Peter now sat on the floor of her hut, on a pillow, leaning against her bedframe as she sketched out yet another outline. He was reading a book ( Read more... )

Peter hadn't seen Jill for a few days, and had begun to worry. She wasn't the type to hide away; she was usually out and about, even in the cold weather. After some hemming and hawing and fretting about Susan and family, he shook himself sane and trekked out to the Treehouse to find her. She was his friend. Just because Susan had some history with ( Read more... )

Peter Pevensie:
Nominated for initial consideration for Island Council.

If you'd like to see Peter's name on the final council ballot, please sign below.

Peter had spent most his morning inside with a good book (Chaucer, mostly), but had decided fresh air and a change of scenery would be a good idea. He headed outside, passing by the kitchen with a wave, and through the front door of the compound. He'd been around for long enough to be comfortable hanging around, and the compound felt like home; ( Read more... )

Susan had gone out again, taking full advantage of her newly arrived brother. Peter, for his part, was enjoying spending time with Rickon. With remedial lessons in diapers and feeding (hastily given by Susan), Peter was well suited for an afternoon with his nephew ( Read more... )

Once, not quite as long ago as one might think, there was a young man studying for exams. It was the summer of 1945, and the war was ending. Peter had spent a long day out at the park, reading under the shade of the largest oak tree he could find, twirling a leaf in his fingers. From time to time Professor Kirke let him read out at the park instead ( Read more... )

( Application for Peter Pevensie )