PlaymoFriends
Creative => Story-Telling => Topic started by: tonguello on May 01, 2012, 00:52:03
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This project started a year ago . . . like this: http://www.playmofriends.com/forum/index.php?topic=7793.0
Here is the revised and final version.
All rights reserved
Diary of a Pirate Clicky
January 1979
Dear diary:
My eyes burn from the first light of day I see. I'm finally released from the box's darkness and brought into existence. I got my new kid today!! It is a hot summer day and it is our birthday! His name is Gaston. He presents me to his little sister and she tries to take me from him. He gently says no and runs away with me, imprisoned in his hand, to a place called “Terrace”.
He has a plain vast dry land up there. No sight of water at all though.
I'm happy to be free and he seems so happy to be with me. But I'm not the only one whom I share this kid with, but he seems to have eyes just for me today.
We play all day. He stretches my arms and moves my legs a thousand times. I'm tired. My one and only feet hurts but I smile. He got me a small boat that I get to ride around the terrace a hundred turns. I read my map back and forward...and upside down. I shoot the guns I carry in my treasure chest once and again. I make friends and fight enemies all day long with my sword.
Night comes and we must rest. I go to sleep rapped in his small hand. I don't close my eyes but I dream sweet dreams.
I smile a lot.
August 1979
Dear Diary:
Many others like me share our house. It is getting crowded. Gaston keeps us all together but he always has a special place for me. I heard him say I'm his favourite because I'm different, I have only one leg. I like the kid a lot. We have fun every weekend and I often miss him when he is at school, but I get to rest from the wild non stopping fun from his days off.
My hat is crooked and lost its feather, I'm dirty and I'm missing a couple of guns. My sword is not as shinny as it was anymore and my boat is terribly scratched from being dragged across the ground all day long. Where is that shore? That dry land must be huge. We have been going around it for months and haven't found water yet.
We haven't been out much, we sail another “sea”. He calls it winter and I miss the sun.
He makes me go to weird places that I enjoy for him, I ride a horse, sometimes I fly; I'm not a pirate all the time, I'm a cowboy, an explorer, or just a common man. I run just like the rest of them as if I had two legs. Sometimes I have a car that I can drive.
I can't hide my smile.
December 1979
Dear Diary:
He said today is Christmas Eve. A magic man comes at night bringing toys for good kids. We expect more like us. But night comes and goes away and no one new is here.
Day has dawned and I'm still in the wicker trunk where all of us are kept. It's been quiet for so long I'm getting worried. Did he forget us? Did the magic man come finally with new friends to play? I hear shouts and screams of delight, and laughter right after that. He comes running and take the trunk up to the terrace. And then I hear the splashing sound for the first time and I know what it is. Water! At last! Did he find the shore?
He grabs me fast and takes the boat. I can't see anything from here. And then I’m there right on the boat and the boat is at the sea! For the first time I’m really sailing, where I'm supposed to be! He is fascinated! He watches the boat floating with surprised eyes! He makes it sail and I love it. He loves it too. I fall into the water and I feel its touch, refreshingly sweet!
He pulls me up and down and under! We play all day and I'm soaking wet. I'm tired but happy! I own my own sea. I go to sleep again and I dream of bubbles and ducks and funny-looking mousses in diver’s suits. “The Pool” he has named my sea.
I can't help but smile.
January 1980
Dear Diary:
We are on the road. I get a glimpse of a huge rare green vessel with weird looking barrels underneath. Its name is Dodge. Gaston and his “grown ups” are going to the beach and he is taking some of us with him. I don’t know what the beach is but he is so excited that I am excited too. It is a long trip but we finally get there.
He has a different kind of terrace here. All is green and soft to the touch. The air is different and still. Is it salty? Day goes away fast and night unfurls its starry gown. I have never seen so many stars in my life! It is the perfect sailing map!
Sun is up and excitement is at its most! He touches soft, warm soil and he makes me touch it too. “Sand!” he tells me, and off he runs to take some twigs. He makes for me a tropical island and puts me there to rest. I can hear a constant buzz and splash all around, but it is sand all I can see.
After my short nap he holds me up, he takes my boat and run. My island is behind me, in front, I just can’t see. And then he sits me gently on my boat and rocks me slowly. He moves his hand and I’m in awe by what my non-blinking eyes show me. Water everywhere my sight can reach: waves, foam, shells, endless sky and a distant shore. This is the sea!
He makes me sail my little boat. The water rocks me left and right. This is heaven, I could guess.
May I please have a bigger smile?
January 1982
Dear Diary:
Today is our birthday again. A few like this have past. My kid is growing older. I’m still the same. A new crew has arrived. It is an exciting group with a strange baby animal and a dark faced guy. They bring some modern equipment and shiny new clothes. That’s so much more exciting than this black handicapped pirate that I am. Gaston loves this man with the strange face and keeps a special place for him too.
That special place can’t be that special if so many of us have owned it. It must be worn out.
I’m completely naked now. I think I lost all I possessed…I think I haven’t been out much… I think I think too much.
He lets me rest a lot, and so I get to watch him play. A daily sweet torture to endure, and to hope for.
I smile.
July 1985
Dear Diary:
Not much have changed for me. It is as time has frozen, holding me in its plastic embrace. A lot like me have come and gone over the years. And though it seems it should; nothing changes.
He loves us all he says and leaves us here to sleep. Wide opened eyes I dream of him and my owned own sea. I dream of sand, islands, twigs and boats. I miss all that. I miss him more.
Do I still have a smile?
December 1986
Dear Diary:
The magic man has come again and shook our world completely. A new version of us came with him. “Ostronats” Gaston calls them. They are the apple of his eye. I’m so jealous to share my kid with them. They are just like me! What is it that he sees in them; their shiny clothes; their weird-looking guns and vessels? Oh yes! They’ve come with a vessel. No sails though. A strange looking thing it is, horrible really, like a white whale . . . with wings.
Gaston have always said I was to have my own ship, which I could sail around my private sea, and be Captain of my own crew. But I haven’t gotten it yet. Maybe it’s still at the docks under construction! Maybe soon I’ll have my ship. I hope I have my ship!
But these big-headed ones already have one, and Gaston loves it, and he loves them. I get to sleep and rest a lot lately. From time to time I get to see them play. I wish I could join them, but there seems to be no place for me in that game.
I watch.
I sleep.
I wish.
I sleep.
I smile. . . I sleep.
I smile.
May 1987
Dear Diary:
I’m glad that I survived. A few days ago, after too much” being in the trunk”, we felt the trunk moved. The lid was opened and light came in. We saw his face looking down at us. We were extremely happy to see him again so we all stood still, eyes fixed in front, steady smile.
But he wasn’t alone and they took us all out. “We are going to play again” we thought! They divided us in two groups. Gaston gave a group to his friend and he took the other. He kept me on his side and I thought I was going to be captain of my own army at last! They made two fortresses out of shoe boxes and stuff. They were at each side of the room. They placed us all strategically in our forts.
“I should be in front, for I’m the Captain of this army!” I thought. But he put me at the back, hidden, where I was hard to spot. “He cares!” I thought. “He doesn’t want me to be hurt!”
And then they aimed and started to shoot! Real canon bullets! The point was to leave no one standing up. And then I got it. I was the easiest to fall down, for my one and only leg. So I got to be at the back.
One by one my friends were hit. One by one they fell. I couldn’t help but watch. I couldn’t help but hear the laughter of the kids.
Though I fought hard against it, I couldn’t help smiling.
November 1989
Dear Diary:
We must be locked up somewhere else now. It’s very dark in here and sometimes stuffy and too hot. It’s very rare to see him around. He looks quite different every time we get a glimpse. His factions got harder, and his hair longer, his voice is deeper but he has the same look in his eyes. The same look that my kid had.
I miss him so much.
The playing days are all gone and done. The “ostronats” are here as well. All cramped. All together. All the same.
And so time stopped.
Smiles did not.
Undated entry
Dear Diary:
It has been too long since I had something to write about. I’m not sure what day it is, or what year. When you are locked up in the dark you lose the track of time and space. If I could count by the times I have thought about my dear kid, I would say many years have passed.
The trunk moved today, we all felt it. Panic and excitement shook us equally. If some of us had forgotten how to smile, the memory came back the second the lid was opened. But when our eyes got accustomed to the new light, they forgot again, though it didn’t show. It was a stranger we found looking down.
He turned the trunk upside down and we all fell to the ground. This man took us one by one and divided us into piles. When he took me I tried to look my best. I looked at him adoringly and he placed me with the rest.
I got a glimpse of someone loved; I got a glimpse of him. But darkness fell as fast as he took hold of someone else.
I know someday I’m meant to smile.
I know it’s not today.
Undated entry #2 (around 2003)
Dear Diary:
Another bunch of darkness passed, and silence, dust and weary old and plastic people. But then again we are forced to watch this stranger that today smiles. He gently takes a lot of us and bathes us in warm water. He dries us out and put us on our best clothes or whatever he could find. He looks at us so sweetly, so full of love and memories! Is the stranger not a stranger after all?
For a while he makes us stand and watches us in silence. And soon memory takes hold of his eyes and I understand.
I feel his fingers, not his hand, around me. I feel I’m being carried. He places me up on higher ground and I’m levelled with his eyes. And so we meet after so long and yet it seems it was last night.
My eyes and his have the same sight: smiles, smiles, smiles.
April 2011
Dear Diary:
My kid is not a kid anymore. He is a “grown up” like those he had when I came into his life. He calls himself a “collector”, whatever that might mean.
In the last couple of years I have cosily slept in a cushioned transparent casket. There are hundreds of us now, in all colours, shapes and sizes. But I don’t have to worry because I know his heart is mine.
He promised I would have my own ship, once. He promised that once more. But until then I have to rest and sleep and rest again. “I’ve waited for so long!!” I think. “But waiting can’t be bad, for plastic men, as I have learnt, are made to wait when play is done”.
Smiling I wait.
May 2012
Dear Diary:
This is most probably my last entry.
My darling kid is here once more; I think that it is time.
The casket’s gone and at his hand I leave the world behind.
And soon enough I’m on my ship,
A crowded place with boys and girls, who welcome me in silence,
But in my ears I hear the cheers and pray Gaston for guidance.
He makes me hold the wheel right then, I do it like in dreaming.
I look at him, he looks at me and off we go! We‘re sailing!!
A trip right back to days gone by, a trip to future harbours,
A trip to days still to come and to the Place that follows.
So all day long I sail away, my crew, my ship and I,
And every night I’m back for him,
To smile . . . to smile . . . to smile.
(http://i1205.photobucket.com/albums/bb432/tonguello/Diary/1.jpg)
(http://i1205.photobucket.com/albums/bb432/tonguello/Diary/2.jpg)
(http://i1205.photobucket.com/albums/bb432/tonguello/Diary/3.jpg)
(http://i1205.photobucket.com/albums/bb432/tonguello/Diary/Sinttulo.jpg)
The End :captain:
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Aw, that was absolutely awesome! It made me cry! Congratulations to this very long-suffering pirate captain, who finally has a ship of his own. ;D
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A well done and touching tale, mate. :hatoff:
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Aw, that was absolutely awesome! It made me cry! Congratulations to this very long-suffering pirate captain, who finally has a ship of his own. ;D
Thank you bb!
I was actually waiting to be able to get a fish-tank-like case, like those others I have, to put him in there with his ship and have a better real ending, but prices have gone over the clouds... and when I think how many playmos I can buy with $200!!! I never got to buy it. and I have to start buying 123 playmos :shhhh:
Besides I want to finish some projects are are half way there, to start a 100 others I already have in mind! 8} 8} 8}
A well done and touching tale, mate. :hatoff:
Thank you Pynedor. It was actually a very moving experience. :)
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This is so beautiful, moving, and hopefull, Gaston!! A most excellent project!!!
Thank you for this klicky experience!!! Your pirate Captain will treasure your love for him and his ship very much!!!
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This is beautifull, a very touching story that could only have been written by someone who truly cares about their clickies. :)
Many people may find it silly to have an emotional connection with toy figures, but for people of all ages, the clickies can bring comfort in their own way.. the world doesnt seem as dark and complicated when you lose yourself in the simpler and endearing world of the clickies, who just radiate a sense of happiness.
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Thank you Panos! :love:
You are right Rhalius! Clickies for me have been the best therapy! :love:
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This is so lovely Gaston, beautifully written and I'm so pleased that he got his ship in the end :love:
I'm glad that he's out in the open, I know it sounds silly, but I wouldn't like to think of him and his ship shut in a glass case. :-[
Now I'm curious about the 123, please tell more... ;)
Elaine (http://www.anchoredbygrace.com/smileys/mgqueen.gif)
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You have done a magnificent job of writing a very touching story that captures a Playmobil's figures true life, Gaston! A truly great day to day love story, of an adoring miniature pirate who's eternal dream finally came true!
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When are you going to give him his belt and sword back though? Just noticed they are missing. ;)
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Thank you Elaine, and Bill for your kind words! :love:
Rhalius, that clicky does not have a belt.
It is missing the sword and the red pointy cuffs. The cuffs I believe are impossible to get for he has the old type of hands :(.
The shinny sword is a little easier.... so I'm on it. ;)
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Very nice finished product Gaston. Very touching.
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Very nice finished product Gaston. Very touching.
Thank you el jefe! ;D
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ah my mistake, not sure if my brother had him as well or a slightly different one.. the hat is different at least.
Sadly the peg legged pirates are missing though, I believe we used to have two of them and now none. :( None in black at least.
Still having the cuffs though, I recently took pictures for a short photostory featuring both old and new pirates, including a blonde captain in black (but without peg leg) Am planning to post it soon.
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nice story gaston :) reminds me of the toy story movies
Is the captain from Antex?
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nice story gaston :) reminds me of the toy story movies
Is the captain from Antex?
Thanks!
No, it's German. http://collectobil.com/catalogue/items/3385.htm
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Thanks!
No, it's German. http://collectobil.com/catalogue/items/3385.htm
really :o :o :o :o :o his hair look a little weird thought to be geobra....
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We'll see how your hair looks when you are as old as that clicky. ;)