Jim Hawkins (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
answer2bheard) wrote2011-05-05 09:44 pm
answer2bheard) wrote2011-05-05 09:44 pm
Montressor, Thursday Afternoon, Fandom Time
It was probably wasn't possible for Jim to holler much more loudly than he was as he cut through the sky, a bright orange glow from his solar surfer's rocket trailing behind him, a slightly less aggressive glow streaking across the sail as it caught the rays from Montressor's sun. His daylight would run out on him in a couple more hours, and then he'd have to either swap to his surfer's backup power source or else head back home, but for now? For now, that was the farthest thing from his mind.
What was on Jim's mind was the possibility of getting more height, more speed, of seeking out more thrills than a quick spin around the Benbow could possibly afford him. Up into the sky he climbed, clear on through the clouds, before kicking the switch to fold the sail in and cutting the power on his surfer entirely. He could ignore the way the sudden drop made his insides slosh about. There was something comforting about free-fall. Something certain. When he was falling, he always knew, for example, that there would be ground somewhere below him.
On Montressor, everything was a constant. The same, boring, annoying constant, day in and day out. But in spite of his distaste for the predictable, it was nice to know that there was that nevertheless.
At the last possible moment, barely a heartbeat away from the stone bottom of one of the thousands of quarries that made up Montressor's economy, he kicked the switch underfoot again, flipped up the sail, and took off soaring again.
Free-fall would only afford him so many thrills, after all. But there was heavy equipment there in the mines that always made for an interesting playground for a bored teenager who just happened to be able to surf through the sky.
Which always seemed like a great option, right up until he heard the sirens...
Jim was in for it, now. It was still a few hours before closing time, and the Benbow Inn would be bristling with customers in the dining room, which also just happened to be the first stop beyond the front door. It was bad enough getting the escort home by the pair of oversized rustbuckets they called cops out here in the middle of nowhere. It was bad enough that all of his mother's customers were going to be witness to this, too.
"I don't suppose you guys could maybe take the back door, this time?"
"Negative."
"Well... could we maybe hang around out here for a few, until the place is more empty?"
"That would be a negative as well."
"... Book me at the station, just to mix things up?"
"Nice try."
"You have to admit," Jim set his face into a sour scowl as one of the cops reached toward the door, "it was worth a shot."
The door opened, and Jim glowered into the room, facing at least a dozen sets of eyes, all belonging to customers, to neighbors, and all of them stunned. Or accusing? Judging, at least.
"Mrs. Hawkins."
Jim only flinched a little at the sound of dishes breaking and his mother gasping his name. This was not what he would consider to be a good ending to his day. At all. The fact that everyone in the room had gone silent? Also not helping.
"Okay," Jim crouched slightly and tried to pry one of the cops' hands from his shoulder, "thanks for the lift, guys."
"Not so fast." And there it was again, that massive, gloved, mechanical hand, grabbing hold of his shoulder and stopping him in his tracks. Both cops moved forward, each easily three feet taller than he was, and Jim had no choice but to stumble along with them, looking about as thrilled with this situation as he felt. "We apprehended your son operating a solar vehicle in a restricted area. Moving violation five-zero-four, section fifteen, paragraph..."
And here came the awkward pause. Jim rubbed idly at his cheek, not looking up from the floor.
"Six," he volunteered.
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it."
No, really.
"As you are aware, Ma'am, this constitutes a violation of his probation."
"Yes," his mother stepped forward, looking... tired. Disappointed. Apologetic. Damn it. "Yes. No, I understand. Um, but, c-could, um, could we just..."
It went on like that for what felt like hours, what must have only been minutes, with Sarah Hawkins stammering out her apologies, family friend Delbert Doppler attempting to smooth things over, and Jim trying to drown the whole of it out with dirty looks at the floor, as the Benbow's customers stared at him, slack-jawed. If there was ever a moment where he wanted to fade away into nothingness, this one was probably very nearly it.
But he was still here.
"... Any more slip-ups will result in a one-way ticket to juvenile hall."
And on. And on. Until finally they left, leaving Jim facing down his mother, and a room full of gaping people with their mouths still full of half-chewed food.
But none of that could compare to the words his mother said as he backed his way out of the room.
"Jim, I just don't want to see you throw away your entire future."
He pushed open the door, and then turned to slink into the kitchen.
"Yeah. What future?"
There were worse places to sit and think than the roof of the Benbow Inn. Okay, so the sky was getting a little overcast now, the same clouds that he'd been scattering in his wake growing heavy and dark overhead. He'd have to head inside sooner or later. For now, Jim was content to curl up near a window, tossing a handful of pebbles one by one at the wooden planks of the wharf that sprawled out beyond the sheer drop of the cliff that the inn was constructed beside. Inside, he could hear his mother and Delbert, talking about the day's events. Little snippets of conversation drifted out at him, registering in his consciousness as he chewed meaning from the muffled words.
"... Ever since his father left..."
Pebble.
"... And you know how smart he is..."
Pebble.
"... Like a stranger to me. I don't know, Delbert. I've tried everything."
Pebble.
"Everything, Sarah? I appear to have procured this brochure, and while I'm not currently looking for a teaching career away from Montressor, it looks like it might do Young Jim a world of good. All of the endorsements look very refutable -er- reputable."
"Boarding school, Delbert?
"You have to admit, there are worse things for the boy than a few... character-building years at a place that specializes in dealing with students who have more particular educational needs."
"Earth? I've never even heard of Earth..."
Jim sat up, furrowing his eyebrows and leaning closer to the window. Come to think of it, neither had he, and he'd memorized every star map and galactic chart that he could get his hands on. On a backwater planet like this one, it wasn't like he hadn't had plenty of time to, after all.
"Well... What do you have to lose?"
There was a long pause, and then the verdict that Jim had been dreading most, creeping through the windowpane in his mother's tired voice.
"New students can arrive there on Saturday...? I better let Jim know so that he can pack."
...
...
...
Pebble.
"Great."
[Establishy, NFI, and NFB for distance. So much of this was snagged and adapted from the first nine minutes of Treasure Planet it isn't even funny, but I'm shameless like that sometimes, and I'll insert some more alphabet soup in here to say that OOC comments are totally welcome!]
What was on Jim's mind was the possibility of getting more height, more speed, of seeking out more thrills than a quick spin around the Benbow could possibly afford him. Up into the sky he climbed, clear on through the clouds, before kicking the switch to fold the sail in and cutting the power on his surfer entirely. He could ignore the way the sudden drop made his insides slosh about. There was something comforting about free-fall. Something certain. When he was falling, he always knew, for example, that there would be ground somewhere below him.
On Montressor, everything was a constant. The same, boring, annoying constant, day in and day out. But in spite of his distaste for the predictable, it was nice to know that there was that nevertheless.
At the last possible moment, barely a heartbeat away from the stone bottom of one of the thousands of quarries that made up Montressor's economy, he kicked the switch underfoot again, flipped up the sail, and took off soaring again.
Free-fall would only afford him so many thrills, after all. But there was heavy equipment there in the mines that always made for an interesting playground for a bored teenager who just happened to be able to surf through the sky.
Which always seemed like a great option, right up until he heard the sirens...
Jim was in for it, now. It was still a few hours before closing time, and the Benbow Inn would be bristling with customers in the dining room, which also just happened to be the first stop beyond the front door. It was bad enough getting the escort home by the pair of oversized rustbuckets they called cops out here in the middle of nowhere. It was bad enough that all of his mother's customers were going to be witness to this, too.
"I don't suppose you guys could maybe take the back door, this time?"
"Negative."
"Well... could we maybe hang around out here for a few, until the place is more empty?"
"That would be a negative as well."
"... Book me at the station, just to mix things up?"
"Nice try."
"You have to admit," Jim set his face into a sour scowl as one of the cops reached toward the door, "it was worth a shot."
The door opened, and Jim glowered into the room, facing at least a dozen sets of eyes, all belonging to customers, to neighbors, and all of them stunned. Or accusing? Judging, at least.
"Mrs. Hawkins."
Jim only flinched a little at the sound of dishes breaking and his mother gasping his name. This was not what he would consider to be a good ending to his day. At all. The fact that everyone in the room had gone silent? Also not helping.
"Okay," Jim crouched slightly and tried to pry one of the cops' hands from his shoulder, "thanks for the lift, guys."
"Not so fast." And there it was again, that massive, gloved, mechanical hand, grabbing hold of his shoulder and stopping him in his tracks. Both cops moved forward, each easily three feet taller than he was, and Jim had no choice but to stumble along with them, looking about as thrilled with this situation as he felt. "We apprehended your son operating a solar vehicle in a restricted area. Moving violation five-zero-four, section fifteen, paragraph..."
And here came the awkward pause. Jim rubbed idly at his cheek, not looking up from the floor.
"Six," he volunteered.
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it."
No, really.
"As you are aware, Ma'am, this constitutes a violation of his probation."
"Yes," his mother stepped forward, looking... tired. Disappointed. Apologetic. Damn it. "Yes. No, I understand. Um, but, c-could, um, could we just..."
It went on like that for what felt like hours, what must have only been minutes, with Sarah Hawkins stammering out her apologies, family friend Delbert Doppler attempting to smooth things over, and Jim trying to drown the whole of it out with dirty looks at the floor, as the Benbow's customers stared at him, slack-jawed. If there was ever a moment where he wanted to fade away into nothingness, this one was probably very nearly it.
But he was still here.
"... Any more slip-ups will result in a one-way ticket to juvenile hall."
And on. And on. Until finally they left, leaving Jim facing down his mother, and a room full of gaping people with their mouths still full of half-chewed food.
But none of that could compare to the words his mother said as he backed his way out of the room.
"Jim, I just don't want to see you throw away your entire future."
He pushed open the door, and then turned to slink into the kitchen.
"Yeah. What future?"
There were worse places to sit and think than the roof of the Benbow Inn. Okay, so the sky was getting a little overcast now, the same clouds that he'd been scattering in his wake growing heavy and dark overhead. He'd have to head inside sooner or later. For now, Jim was content to curl up near a window, tossing a handful of pebbles one by one at the wooden planks of the wharf that sprawled out beyond the sheer drop of the cliff that the inn was constructed beside. Inside, he could hear his mother and Delbert, talking about the day's events. Little snippets of conversation drifted out at him, registering in his consciousness as he chewed meaning from the muffled words.
"... Ever since his father left..."
Pebble.
"... And you know how smart he is..."
Pebble.
"... Like a stranger to me. I don't know, Delbert. I've tried everything."
Pebble.
"Everything, Sarah? I appear to have procured this brochure, and while I'm not currently looking for a teaching career away from Montressor, it looks like it might do Young Jim a world of good. All of the endorsements look very refutable -er- reputable."
"Boarding school, Delbert?
"You have to admit, there are worse things for the boy than a few... character-building years at a place that specializes in dealing with students who have more particular educational needs."
"Earth? I've never even heard of Earth..."
Jim sat up, furrowing his eyebrows and leaning closer to the window. Come to think of it, neither had he, and he'd memorized every star map and galactic chart that he could get his hands on. On a backwater planet like this one, it wasn't like he hadn't had plenty of time to, after all.
"Well... What do you have to lose?"
There was a long pause, and then the verdict that Jim had been dreading most, creeping through the windowpane in his mother's tired voice.
"New students can arrive there on Saturday...? I better let Jim know so that he can pack."
...
...
...
Pebble.
"Great."
[Establishy, NFI, and NFB for distance. So much of this was snagged and adapted from the first nine minutes of Treasure Planet it isn't even funny, but I'm shameless like that sometimes, and I'll insert some more alphabet soup in here to say that OOC comments are totally welcome!]