SonOfNeverland

continued from ( x ) with @sonofneverland​

The cricket jumps just about a foot in the air, and teeters on the railing when he lands, arms pinwheeling to maintain some semblance of balance. The Village Haus’ guests usually only have one thing on their mind - food - and Jiminy more or less blends in as a set-piece. His people-watching usually goes uninterrupted. But he spins on a heel and rather quickly recognizes Peter, relaxing visibly once he does. No autographs today. They’re a real workout, holding those pens.

“What brings me out here?” He echoes, and jabs an umbrella upwards towards the painted decals and intricate carvings lining the rafters from top to bottom. The theming is unmistakable. “Think I oughta be askin’ you! It’s my restaurant.”

Can’t fault a fella for liking to go in and take an occasional look at the murals of himself. Really, what else is he going to do with his time? All the rides have height requirements. He’d remind Pete that his meet-and-greets are across the street, but a glance at the crutches tells him those aren’t really in the cards for the afternoon.

“Not doin’ the parade today, I take it. Probably a good idea. Thinkin’ it’s gonna rain through half of it.” Crickets are excellent at predicting the weather. Not Jiminy, but. You know. The other crickets. Normal ones. Jiminy’s just good at spreading their gossip.

Peter and Jiminy both knew that ‘height requirements’ didn’t mean anything to Jiminy; he went wherever he wanted, and Peter was good enough to not be a snitch about it. He set his crutches aside and took a seat; he blended in pretty well whenever he was in ‘incognito mode.’ Though, he was a good deal taller than most of his Friends who stood in for him, just about any borrowed outfit from Costuming would make Peter completely invisible. 

“Oh, I thought I’d come around for a quick bite. The CM’s here are quite ‘generous.’”

Ghosts needed to eat too. Sometimes. The flatbreads were better than most of the other ‘pizzas’ that could be found around the parks. Peter swore off PizzeRizzo for reasons other than rats in the kitchen… 

“It rains here more than it does in Neverland, which is saying something. Last thing I need to do is slip off the Jolly Roger and either fall and break my leg again or get exposed for flying off of it.”

One of the cast members brought over a tray with the flatbread and soft drink Peter ordered, and the ghost offered her a wink as thanks while she skittered away to go brag to her friends that she just met ‘THE’ Peter Pan. 

It was a hot day in the Magic Kingdom when Peter decided to visit from Neverland. He wasn’t due to be part of a Meet and Greet that day, so he was hobbling around in disguise. Thankfully, a good beanie could hide his pointed ears and he could use a wheelchair or, in today’s case, a pair of crutches to divert attention away from him so people could go find his ‘Friends’ who took care of those duties for him. 

But even on Pan’s days off, he always found himself bouncing between his two favorite lands: Adventureland and Fantasyland. Maybe it was because his story seemed to border both realms, but Peter (when he wasn’t tormenting the Caribbean pirates) could usually be found there. 

He was on his way towards the Village Haus with the idea of charming one of the Cast Members there into perhaps letting him have one of the flatbreads when he passed by a familiar face on one of the carved railings here the It’s a Small World canal below. 

“Oi, @cxnscience! What brings you out here, eh?”

                         𝚆𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚢 𝚛𝚞𝚗 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎––𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢 

                                    𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎?