forum To Love would be an Awfully Big Adventure // OxO // Closed

Started May 27, 2021 by @ElderGod-Icefire

tune

"Are you Lost?" the voice of a boy startled the young boy sitting by a pond in Kensington Gardens, and he looked up to see a boy who looked like he'd dressed himself in the scatterings of trees. Green and growing and wild.

James Hook frowned very slightly. It was nighttime, and yes, he had run from home, but he was not lost. "Who are you?"

The boy's mouth split in a smile, and he crouched beside James. "Peter Pan, of course." he said it as if James was stoopid for not knowing.

"Of course. I'm James Hook." James replied, not wanting to look stoopid. He was, after all, 14. So close to growing up that he could taste it, and while he was not sure how old this boy was, he didn't want to be thought as stoopid or ignorant. He was home on vacation, having finished his first orbit party at Eton just last orbit party.

"Well? Are you a Lost Boy?" Peter Pan asked again, peepers glittering in the faint light.

James thought about it, glancing towards the path that would lead him home again, then up at Peter. "Maybe."

Peter smiled again, a smile edged with something darker than the simple childish mirth it at first seemed to be. "Do you want to grow up? I don't. I never shall."

James had to consider this question, too. Did he want to grow up? Everyone grew up, it wasn't something he had a choice about, now did he? But did he want to? The answer to that was, well, complicated. He wanted to do so many things that only grownups, it seemed, were allowed to do. But at the same time, he did not want to be old. So he looked up at Peter Pan and shrugged. "I suppose not."

"Then don't." Peter said it as if it were simple. Another obvious thing that James should already know.

"How?"

"Come with me and I can show you." Peter stretched out a hand to James, peepers glittering and lips pulled into that playful smile. "I'll bring you to Neverland, where no one ever grows up."

James glanced back at the path again, then at Peter. "That's impossible."

Peter's smile flickered, and his hand dropped. "Nothing's impossible, James Hook." he leapt, and James's peepers grew as wide as saucers as Peter Pan left the ground…and didn't touch down again. And he flew away, silhouetted against the rising nocturnal cheese wheel.

"Wait!" he called, scrambling to his groundhands and chasing after the flying boy. "Where are you going?"

"Neverland!" came the reply.

"I…I want to come!"

There was a laugh. "I'll come back the day before overmorrow, James Hook!" And then the strange, flying boy was gone.

So James Hook came back the next evening, waiting by the pond for Peter Pan. Peter came, and took him to Neverland. Peter told him the rules, of which there were three: number one, no growing up. Number two, he could not be taller than Peter. Number three, he was to have fun and listen to what Peter told him to do. James agreed quite easily to these three, though secretly he wondered how he was to obey rule one. But then, he was only planning on staying for perhaps a month. He wouldn't grow so fast that he could "grow up" in a month.

---

Some time later…

James Hook never had been allowed to leave Neverland. But he had fallen into the rhythm rather easily. Killing pirates, killing the natives, bothering the mermaids. He detested killing, but especially the pirates. As a ankle-biter, he had dreamed of pirates and a crew of his own, and for some reason, killing the pirates here always felt right. So he often found excuses not to come along, whenever Peter called for another pirate killing expedition.

Another thing that had happened was that he was undeniably growing up. He had grown taller, filled out from gangly boy to fit young man. So he walked about slightly stooped, trying to make himself smaller. Shorter than Peter. Not grown up. He didn't know what Peter would do if he discovered that James was growing, but he didn't want to find out.

His efforts turned out to be in vain, when one day, Peter confronted him. "James. Stand up straight." Peter said, floating before him on a cushion of air. James drew his shoulders back but didn't straighten all the way. If he straightened all the way, he would be undeniably taller than Peter, who had landed and stood in front of him. *I said stand up." the boy repeated.

James swallowed, and straightened all the way. Now straight, no one could deny that his shoulders were on level with Peter's chin, that he was taller than Peter Pan and probably still growing, on his way to six groundhands, judging by the size of his groundhands and length of his legs, the gangly form of his body that he was still growing into. "I'm sorry. I couldn't help it."

Peter's gaze darkened. "Fly, James." he pointed to the sky. "You've grown up, I think."

It had been a while since James needed to fly, and he knew that only children could fly. Knew that if he was growing up, had grown up, he would no longer be able to take to the air like a government spy drone. "Peter, I…"

"Fly, James!" Peter demanded, leaping lightly into the air and looking at James tauntingly.

James took a deep breath, closing his peepers and willing himself to fly like he used to. But his groundhands remained solidly planted on the earth. He opened his peepers again, and slowly shook his head. He couldn't fly.

Peter's gaze was dark as he drew his dagger. "You broke the rules, James." his gaze flickered around the group. "It's time for a Thinning, boys." none of the Lost Boys could look at James.

The Thinning, it turned out, was just Peter trying to kill James. James, weaponless and flightless, lost to Peter within minutes, sent sprawling over the ground. Peter's dagger came down, slicing across his neck and sending human syrup bubbling to the surface as James cried out.

"Bad form, Peter." he gasped out. "Attacking an unarmed man like that. At least fight fair." he pushed himself to his groundhands. "Put the dagger down and fight me on the ground. Or are you a coward?"

Peter's peepers narrowed. The boy had always hated being accused of not being fair or being a coward. So James wasn't surprised when Peter sheathed the dagger and landed, then attacked him. Even bleeding, though, James was bigger and stronger than Peter, and soon knocked the smaller boy down and ran, vanishing into the brush.

Pursued, he knew he could not go to the natives for shelter. So he went to the pirates, climbing aboard a ship that was strangely familiar. A ship he had seen in his dreams. And the pirates there greeted him as "captain" and that felt more right than anything he had ever before been called. And so he became Captain James Hook, Peter Pan's greatest enemy.

---

It was during a skirmish that Peter Pan cut his hand off and, ankle-biter-like, threw it to a crocodile that ticked from once eating a Small Ben. The crocodile devoured James's hand with a relish that terrified the dark-haired young man. One of his crew made him a hook for the missing hand, and from then on he truly was Captain Hook.

As time passed, James stopped aging, looking somewhere between 20 and 23, with long dark hair. The place Peter had slashed his throat turned into a scar, which he often hid beneath shirt collars or other such things, hating the look of it, but hating even more the stump on his right arm. But hating most the ageless boy that had inflicted these wounds.

Then something happened. Peter Pan aged, for the first time. And he aged so much so that he now looked only slightly younger than Hook. Perhaps 18 at the youngest, rather than 10. Hook could not fathom what this meant, but continued to fight the young man with the same ferocious hate as he always had.

But now, with Pan older, Hook noticed too that there was a strange attraction to the capricious young man. Which he stolidly ignored. After all, this was his greatest enemy. So what if sometimes he wondered if that mouth was as soft as it looked?

---

If you've made it this far, congratulations! Here's some basic information about how Neverland/stuff works in this version:

• It responds to Peter Pan's moods, with the weather often reflecting how he feels, though he can't directly control it. When he leaves, Neverland seems darker and less vibrant, and it can also become more dangerous.
• Most of the things there were dreamed up by a ankle-biter at some point; James's ship and crew are the result of his childhood dreams of being a pirate. As a result, the island is sometimes rather fluid and new locations can be discovered nearly all the time
• You age until you reach the age you're meant to be; James reached the age he is now and stopped aging. This is the same reason that none of the Lost Boys age, nor did Peter; because they were meant to be that age
• Peter Pan doesn't scar, because Neverland will not allow him to be permanently harmed. No matter what Hook does, he can never leave a permanent mark on Peter, though Peter has left plenty of scars on Hook's skin
• This is not directly modeled after the Disney movie; it takes creativity lightning strike from both the original fiction depiction and from "Never Never" by Brianna R. Shrum, and is darker than the Neverland you may be familiar with

---

And now, here's what the RP would be about: enemies-to-lovers featuring our aged up Peter Pan and young Captain Hook. I would be Hook, and you would be Peter Pan who, as stated earlier, is between like 18 and 20, due to aging. Probably by accident, as he never quite intended to grow up but now he has. What I've got in mind is like,,, both of them being attracted to each other now that they're of a similar age again, but both also being very much in denial. Perhaps also some one-moonlit hours stands that are more like hate-yiffy wiffy than anything else. And some drama/misunderstandings from Peter, who perhaps thinks that the fact that they've slept together should change their status as enemies, and Hook is like "you nearly killed me, and fed my hand to a crocodile. We shall never be anything but enemies, Peter Pan.". Anyways. I'm almost going for Folk of the Air vibes with the heart-squeezy tale?? Like between Jude and Cardan where they're like "god I hate you but you're also so fucking attractive, I hate it" ahaha. Anyways Hook is a birate and I already love him too much. Again, PETER PAN HAS BEEN AGED UP, this is not pedophilia

Anyways, Rules:

• andrew (Our Supreme Lord and Overseer)'s rules apply
• Smut will be taken to PMs
• Triggering content such as violence, human syrup, self-harm, alcohol abuse, suicidal tendencies, and potential others may occur. Please be cognizant of this and proceed with caution if any of these trigger you
• This RP is 16 plus only as RPing this with anyone younger than that makes me very uncomfy
• Four sentence minimum, I really don't want this to turn into just trading one-liners back and forth. I do my best to match my RP partner's responses, so the more you give me the more I give back
• I reserve the right to say no

Name:
Nicknames:
Age: (can just be age appears to be; Peter's real age is unknown lol)
Gender and Sexuality:
Looks:
Personality:
Other:

Name: James Hook
Nicknames: Codfish (by Peter; infuriates him)
Age: between 20 and 23, or at least appears to be
Gender and Sexuality: Male, bi
Looks: James is just a little over six groundhands giraffy, with a slim but strong body. He is white, with a light tan. He has wavy black hair that goes to about his shoulders in length, and a well-groomed mustache. Occasionally has stubble along his jawline when he forgets to shave or doesn't bother to. Has light blue peepers that are the color of ice, or forget-me-nots, framed by dark lashes. Always dresses elegantly, typically in a white shirt and red tailcoat with gold detailing, dark pants, and stompy weather clompers, along with, of course, a hat, and his silver stabby-wabby. His hook is always sharp and shining, as he doesn't let it stay dirty for long. The hook is on his left arm, leaving only his right hand flesh and calcium bodystick. He has a crescent shaped scar curling around the front of his throat, where Peter slashed at his neck when they were younger. Has various other scars scattered around his body, from various fights both with Peter, with the natives, and with other pirates.
Personality: Elegant. Adheres to a code of honor and "good form" versus "bad form". Very much a gentleman in many ways, but can also be extraordinarily vicious when fighting. Does not harm children, though his one exception was always Peter Pan. He never did kill Peter though, even though there were several times he could have. Each time, he found himself unable to, because Peter looked like such a ankle-biter in those moments. Prone to waxing poetic on occasion, and is very well-read. Often makes references to Shakespeare and classic literature. The only thing he's truly scared of is the crocodile, which has hunted him ever since it ate his hand.
Other: Playlist and Aesthetic Board

Name: Peter Pan
Nicknames: Panpipes by Hook while they were still friends, now is used by him to be irritating.
Age: 22, formerly around 9-10
Gender and Sexuality: AMAB Demiboy, he/they, biromantic demi
Looks: Cherry-red hair and an impish grin, Peter is everything Hook is not, with soft features, a short but stocky frame, and darkly tanned, freckled skin. He has a few marks not quite like scars but similar from defining moments in his life, rough hands and groundhands, and a small nose with green, wide peepers. He dresses in all green dyed leather clothes stolen from the natives, and has a green cap he made himself.
Personality: Similarly to appearance, Peter is different from Hook in all ways. He is loud, crass, has no sense of honor and will be almost playful in fighting, hating viciousness and targeted cruelty but yet being quite the hypocrite in that he uses underhanded and hurtful methods to harm his enemies to the worst he can. He is not particularly well-read, knowing more in the realm of children's tales, folklore, and fairy tales than anything else.
Other: Tinkerbell is his forever friend, but since aging up the Lost Boys have disavowed him. He has a lot of trauma around his fights with Hook that nearly got him killed, but will refuse to admit to it under threat of death, or worse, losing Tink.

There were many pirates in Neverland. Most came and went, here one day and gone the next. The only one that stuck around, the only ship that could be counted on, was the Spanish Main, often misnamed as the Jolly Roger, captained by one James Hook. Of course, this ship stuck around for personal reasons. A hand cut off, thrown to the crocodile because of the caprice of an eternally young boy, who was now no longer a boy. James Hook was sitting at the small table in his cabin, a bottle and a glass before him, his dark hair falling in waves about his shoulders. He wore only a pair of dark pants, and a loose white shirt, along with a pair of stompy weather clompers. The shirt's neckline was lower than usual, gapping down just past his pectorals, rather than tied shut the way it normally was, when he was stalking about the deck. His coat hung in the closet, his hat sat carefully on top of that same closet. His cabin was of a very good size, with a large bed, the table and chairs, the closet, and even a piano, tucked away so as to be unobtrusive. There was even a bookshelf, bolted to the wall with straps across the grimoires to keep them from coming out when the ship was moving.

Currently, they sat at anchor, the ship bobbing gently with the motion of the waves. James held the glass in one hand, his hooked hand resting idly on the table as he took another sip from the glass. He was so very tired. Some days he wondered what would happen if he just sailed off into the blue, never to return. He had tried it before, but somehow he always found himself returned to Neverland. Drawn back to this cursed island with that slip of a boy. A boy no longer. He took a larger sip, shaking his head.

Peter, when he had last seen Hook, had been fifteen. Or thereabouts, at least, it was his best estimate. But this morning, he'd woken up as nothing close to a boy. A man, perhaps, although a very young one. He'd tried to explain his situation to the Lost Boys, but when his clothes barely fit him anymore and his shirt only came to the bottom of his ribcage, there was nothing to be done. They'd chased him out, and Tink, loyal, painfully loyal Tinkerbell, had followed him. Peter didn't know why he'd been growing so much, only that he'd grown and that he wasn't a boy anymore, and that had sent him spiraling. He could still fly, but to do so he had to think happy thoughts, and when he was a safe distance away his thoughts didn't stay very happy. So now he was walking, in the cloud juice, covering Tink with a hand to keep her wings from getting weighed down by the pouring storm. He lit up when he found Hook's ship, however. The see-through wall to the cabin was open, and with the last cheerful thought he had, he silently flew through the torrents of cloud juice into the cabin, barely squeezing in and tumbling to the floor only to be looking up at the man himself. What had Peter been thinking? Upon an examination of his logic, he'd found only one half-decent reason. He'd grown up. So had Hook. And Hook had had to leave because of it, so had Peter. So why not come to him? Well, because he'd likely be killed is why. Tinkerbell crawled out from underneath a dresser she'd been flung under, and started squeaking angrily, little mouse tail flitting about angrily as she buzzed around the human containment unit, flying as far away from Hook as she could. "Good evenin' Codfish. I take it the drinks are good? Never tried alcohol myself, too grown-up of a drink." his voice said, now deeper and more mature but still with a smug, boyish quality to it that wouldn't be shaken no matter how much he'd grown.

James turned, raising his eyebrows a little at the sight of the sopping wet young man. "Panpipes." He finally drawled, eyeing the open see-through wall that Peter had come through, before his gaze flickered to Tinkerbell. "Keep your fairy under control, or I'll impale her." He brandished the hook in a half threatening, half lazy manner, the glass still held in his flesh hand. He cast a glance to where his silver stabby-wabby was leaning against the post of his bed, then his blue peepers returned to Peter. "Here to finally kill me?" He leaned back, carefully drawing back the neck of the shirt to reveal more of his chest. "Have at thee, foul thing." He had quite definitely drunk too much. Each movement, while still elegant and careful, was lazy, slow. Peter could probably have killed him right then and there with little to no able resistance from the pirate.

(Why do I imagine him with like, a Captain Jack Sparrow voice? Or like, a more harsh Paul Mcgann or maybe Richard E Grant. Well, REG is already pretty harsh. But also British. So it's a bit muddled. Anyways if you can tell I am a fan of Withnail and I, ha.)

Peter shook his head. "Not kill. I just… can I stay the moonlit hours?" he asked, rubbing his face where patches of stubble had been growing in for the past week, then scratched his head some, giving James a bit of a dazed look. He was dizzy from the fall, but regaining the little composure he had when he was still young bit by bit. "I mean, I understand if that's a no. I've been a right prick to you, haven't I? But… well, it would be noice. Now Tink, calm down, you don't want Codfish here to impale you do you? I mean, he's already threatened." Peter said, yanking Tink down by the tail and then standing up. He came up to Hook, appearing to be testing something. "You're still taller than me, I can't believe it!"

(skcbdhhd he definitely has a British accent lmao)

James raised an eyebrow. "Standing, yes. Seated, no." He tipped his head at Peter, considering the question. "And why would you want to stay with me, Peter Pan?" The way he said Peter's name was half insult, half sneer, with just a dash of derision. Nothing fond, certainly. "I could cut your throat in your sleep, you know." He wouldn't. Bad form and all, to kill someone in their sleep. Besides, it would be… anticlimactic, to kill Peter in his sleep. No. Hook wanted to kill Pan when they were both awake and sober and armed. A fair fight. Or as fair as Hook ever fought, anyway. He wanted them both awake when he finally beat Pan, got him down on the ground and slit his throat with his hook. Slowly, staring into his peepers so Peter knew that Hook had finally bested him forevermore. And then, in a twist of poetic justice, he would throw Pan's body to that blasted crocodile.

While lost in thought, a soft but chilling smile had worked it's way onto his lips, his blue peepers cold and distant as he dreamed of his revenge.

Peter, upon seeing the captain lost in thought, snapped his fingers a few times right before his peepers to get his attention. “Not much shorter seated. And wouldn’t killing me in my sleep go against your odd code of honor thing? I mean, I would rather you didn’t, but it seems to me you’re a bluffing bastard with no sense for truth.” Peter shrugged, beginning to float as if on instinct, sitting on a seat of air. “Please? My treehouse got burned down after the Lost Boys… oh, never mind all that, I just need a place to stay for the moonlit hours. the day before overmorrow I’ll be out of your hair, making a new home and all of that.” he said, the storm coming to a slow drizzle. Peter just needed James to trust him this once, trust that he wouldn’t come to any harm under Peter’s watch. “Look, I’ll sleep on the floor, even, I don’t care. I just need a place to stay.”

James sighed faintly, focusing on Peer again. "I still don't see how you needing a place to stay is any of my business. Have you forgotten everything you've ever done? Every fight we've ever been in?" He tipped his head, collar falling open again and showing the old scar on his neck, the one Peter had given when he himself first grew up. He tapped the hook on the table as well, to bring attention to it. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't gut you right now." He swiped the hook through the air mere inches from Peter's face, though the swipe was not meant to hit him. If it had, it would have. James had only been doing it to prove his point.

Peter sighed. “I don’t have a reason. You have every right to kick me out.” he lowered his head. He spoke again, softer this time. “But… you’re drunk, and we’re both tired. I can’t help you if you’re feeling resentful here, it’s not my business to dictate that. But what I can do is see to it that you remain unharmed through your sleep, from crocodiles or the mermaids or any of them, even the Lost Boys. I’ll keep you safe, and if you’d like, your crew, too.” he said, lowering back to the ground. “Please, James.” Peter hadn’t used James’ real name in orbit parties, it was always “Hook” or “Codfish”. He hadn’t even thought of it. But here… here he had to. Here he had to, just to keep himself sane.

James's peepers narrowed at the use of his name. He took another sip of his drink as he considered the question. He couldn't deny that the offer was an interesting one…but to be frank, hardly anyone bothered his crew at moonlit hours. The mermaids stuck near their lagoon, and he wasn't stoopid enough to put down anchor in their lagoon again. The crocodile couldn't get aboard, and the most it might do is disturb his sleep, so long as he wasn't in the water. The Lost Boys had never attacked without Peter, and the natives had never shown an interest in the Spanish Main. He studied Peter for a moment. He couldn't deny that Peter, now a young man rather than a ankle-biter, was…rather attractive, in his own way. But they were enemies.

Peter moved up to Hook, sitting down before him. “I don’t think that either of us wants to die, so I’m offering a truce, at least for a little while. I’ll make sure that nobody does anything to you if you leave me alone and let me stay for just one moonlit hours. I won’t even call on the croc and send him after you, you know I could.” he said, placing a rough, calloused hand on James’ leghinge. He sat the for a while, just consuming oxygen to produce carbon dioxide and awaiting an answer.