Target Acquired

[ladytremaine]

cold as stone she is madness, sanity. she is hell, and paradise. The hustle and bustle of Storybrooke was really an ally for someone like Tamara. It was a nice touch to be able to blend with these fairytale creatures when her plans were more of a suspicious nature. She loved a quiet town- more specifically The Rabbit Hole, and the very generous bartenders at such an establishment She never had trouble blending in. Tamara had been sitting by the bar for quite some time. She was able to enjoy two glasses of scotch as she sat on one of the stools. Tamara didn't have trouble being admired as well. She's often been compared to the likes of Tyra Banks and Naomi Campbell. This was her third glass of whiskey, and she was almost halfway through- she stirred the drink with her finger as she eyed the short haired Pirate sitting right next to her. "You know, you'll never get another opportunity like this, Hook. You should take the life line I'm giving you. Clearly you've lost your magic touch that skinning a crocodile requires." Her eyes glided from her cleavage down to her legs- her short black dress made her quite the seductive woman. As she winked at him, she took a swig of her drink- tasting every drop before finally standing up. "Magic..." she whispered to herself with a slight of tone of disgust. She took a sip of the third glass as her hands reached for her purse. Yes, a cigarette needed to be in session. She didn't need to calm her nerves, no. She just thought it was something that arrived to be far sexier with her nature. The human surrounded by magical creatures had a lot on her mind, she wanted to make alliances with some of the more volatile creatures that inhabit this quaint little town; those who every boy and girl in America know about via their storybooks. She felt a touch out of place, but no matter if it's a bar in a magical suburbia, or a bar on the Upper West side. If you acted like you belonged, you usually did. She knew that The Rabbit Hole was going to be the perfect spot to use Killian Jones thirst for vengeance against him. Seducing him to the side of The Home Office would set everything in motion for phase two. She didn't like it that she needed his help. As far as she's concerned magic is a cancer in the heart of this world that would be better left purged with her tazer. But she was left with no choice but to ally with one of them if she were to succeed in cleansing this unholy power from her world. Soon enough though her true nature would be revealed to him. Cold, cruel, and having a deep-seeded vendetta against his kind. She was grimly determined to forward the interests of The Home Office at all costs. "We're not so different from each other, you and I. People try and twist our motives, but you can trust me, Hook. Or do you prefer Killian over your storybook name? I figure if we're gonna be working together, we better get the introductions out of the way." If Tamara was telling the truth about anything, it was that her and the pirate are quite familiar with grief. But both villains wore it wonderfully well. Hope its decent!

credit to nat of adoxography.

[Killian Jones]

Note: proper gif coming soon!

It's Always Nice

TO MAKE AN IMPRESSION

Hook was not in the best of moods. He had gone through an extreme mood shift from being quite ecstatic, to . . . well, this. He hadn't even cared that he'd been tied up and thrown in the trunk of a moving car. Why? Because his life's mission was complete. He had killed The Dark One, poisoned his blackened heart and well, justice had been served. That is, until his eyes were opened to a rather disturbing truth: the Dark One was alive. That had caused all feelings of satisfaction to quickly flee his body and soul, and renewed his life's purpose.

Truth be told, he didn't have anything to live for after killing Rumple . . . but now, it seemed he would have to return to the drawing board and devise a new plan of assassination. He wanted Rumpelstiltskin dead. In the meantime, he was content to drinking away his anger, having taken an abundance of drinks in this so called bar. Not only that, but one of his kidnappers was trying to get his help. Hook was done helping people. He had tried to help Emma, that failed. He'd tried to help Cora, that also failed. And he then tried to help Cora and Regina . . . double fail. No one was giving him what was promised, and quite frankly, he was growing tired of it. He was a pirate and he should be the one doing the trickery and manipulation, not other people to him! He downed the shot of the drink in front of him, as he listened to Tamara's words, assuring him that he would never have another opportunity such as this.

Ordinarily, when he was next to a beautiful women in a bar -- and she was indeed an exquisite one -- well, he had clear ideas as to how the night would end. But right now, he couldn't even think of that when he was so irritated by the Crocodile's resilience and seemingly unwavering immortality, even in a world where there was no magic. "And what do you know about skinning a crocodile?" He demanded, keeping his gaze forward before turning his head to look at her. "What makes you think you can help me with my vengeance? Because trust me love, many far more powerful than you have tried, and they all have failed." He then leaned forward, rather close to the woman, invading any personal space as his face was mere inches away from hers.

He lowered his voice, but with their close proximity, his voice was audible to her. "What makes you so special?" He questioned. When she went on to say that they were not so different, he moved back to resume his previous position, taking another shot of whatever alcoholic beverage he was ordering for the night. "Oh well since you said I can trust you, now I clearly do," he said with bitter sarcasm, agitated by well, everything. By the Dark One constant presence in whatever realm he was in.

"Truth is love, I don't trust anyone. Which is why I'm skeptical that you can even deliver what you and your friend say you can." He took another drink, unaffected by the copious amounts of alcohol; he'd spent centuries drinking, this was nothing. "Call me whatever you want lass," he told her, unsure if his voice held a hint of flirtation or whether it was an uncaring statement. "What did you say your name was?" He asked, looking at her with a slightly raised eyebrow. He'd been so distracted by Rumple, that he hadn't exactly been paying attention to their introductions as much a she perhaps should have been. And if they were rectifying that now, he may as well know what to refer to her as.

template by isabella

[ladytremaine]

cold as stone she is madness, sanity. she is hell, and paradise. As far as bars went, the one Tamara found herself in was pretty low class. From her position at the bar, the people looked to be of the less desirable sorts, which is saying a lot as far as magical creatures goes, the equipment looked to be in a condition that would only suit a pirate. And hey, she ought to know. she’d been in any number of shitty clubs. She supposed, in a way, it wasn't her place to judge. she’d never really cared, as long as she could get what she came for. usually, it was a fun night with the girls to help her relax before going home and slaving over some essay or problem. and even with her unbelievable work ethic, she’d always made time for a little healthy fun. This felt like a life time ago for Tamara however, before The Home Office found her. Still, she can’t say she didn't wish this place hadn't been there. It was the appropriate place to meet Hook and talk business. "You see Hook, unlike you, I've actually been successful in putting down these monsters for good. And just between you and I, I've skinned something much more dangerous than a crocodile. A dragon. You need my expertise, you don't even know the first thing about taking down a crocodile. You don't just go swashbuckling with a beast and hope for the best, you prevent it from biting back by taking away it's source of power. And I have the tools for that; do you?" Tamara ordered another drink as the bartender glanced at the lump sum she’d pushed across the counter, he made a quick look over her shoulder. Taking the money, he put it in his pocket, turned, mixed her drink, handed it to her and went on his way. She made a disgruntled mewl and slumped back in her seat. Persuading Hook to join her and her associate was going to be a lot tougher than she had originally anticipated. It had been easier than she thought to find someone in this town with his expertise however, and that was a relief. Weeks she’d spent waiting for this break and it was here. It was like running down a road, just waiting for that bump you always trip over, and having it arrive a mile early. "Admit it Hook, you blew it. Your one chance to kill the dark one when he was out and powerless, and you choked up. So you can either spend however long your kind lives in this bar, drinking the pain away while he's out there with his true love, being happy. Being in love. As if a monster like that can even experience such a thing. Or you can trust me and Greg, and we'll help you skin that crocodile once and for all.... How long does your kind live for by the way? We expected you to be much older from the tales." She had known he was probably going to be younger, but it was still surprising. Ever since Neal gave her the list of fairytale characters and their counterparts, she’d imagined him to be some kind of ruggedly built bloke with long, tawny hair and a tired looking expression. After all, if he was a pirate, he could be like... one-hundred. wow. “My name is Tamara, and I think we'll be seeing a lot of each other.” She stuck out her hand in a salutary fashion. “Me and the people I work for have been looking for someone like you for a very long time. We'd love to help you exact your revenge...Assuming you do something for us.” Taking a small sip of her drink, she glanced out into the crowd and then back to him. She figured she couldn't just come out and tell him about what they plan with the Evil Queen, even if he was capable of it. It’d be a little bit of a sensory overload. Then again, she couldn't exactly beat around the bush. They were in a bar, after all. No use making small talk around a pumping base. Best to be direct but not horrifically so. hope its decent!

credit to nat of adoxography.

[Killian Jones]

Note: proper gif coming soon!

It's Always Nice

TO MAKE AN IMPRESSION

Hook was growing increasingly agitated by the woman's words. She told him that she had actual success, that she took down a dragon . . . that he didn't know the first thing about taking down the crocodile. He turned to face her, his annoyance clear on his expression. "Do not lecture me on how to skin a crocodile," he said, his voice a level tone but filled with strength and well, it was far from jovial. He was irritated that he was being lectured by a woman who knew nothing about Rumple.

"I know the Dark One better than he knows himself." Hook had devoted centuries to finding a way to kill him; searching out his weaknesses. And unlike most, he knew the man before he became the Dark One. "So do not act as if you know better than I. You think taking down a dragon is a massive achievement? Believe me when I say that I have dealt with far more menacing creatures than a mere dragon. In fact, they would make a dragon look like a puppy dog in comparison." Usually, he liked an arrogant and confident woman, he found it to be a highly attractive trait. But not when it came to telling him about his source of vengeance. He took another shot, waving his hand to the bartender to order another.

"If you are going to try and convince me to join you by using naive assumptions and ignorant statements, then I warn you now, you will be unsuccessful." He was not going to sit here and listen to himself get insulted. He would have killed Rumple had the damn heroes not gotten themselves involved! She continued on, telling him that he blew his hand. Hook gripped the shot glass in his hand, tightly, his knuckles trembling from the strength of it as she continued to talk. He eventually gripped it so tightly, that the glass shattered in his hand. The cuts hardly fazed him. The pain was hardly anything; merely a scratch. "However old you believe me to be, I am far older than that." Some may guess a century, perhaps two. But no. He was nearly 400 years old, thanks to Neverland.

"You speak of knowing a way to kill him. Perhaps you should give me more details on this method. Forgive me if you I don't take your word for it," he said sarcastically. "The Dark One is a formidable foe, so until you give me a concrete assurance that you have a way to destroy him, then you offer me nothing that I need." He looked at his hand, wiping it on his napkin to get rid of the blood, as his next drink came. He glanced at her as she introduced herself and extended her hand. He moved his hook toward her so that she could shake that, rather than his flesh hand.

It seemed that they would indeed be seeing a lot of each other, for while he didn't agree to anything . . . he knew that this was his only offer. No one else gave him any such assurance; the last one who had was Cora, and she had been playing him all along. "Who is it exactly that you work for?" He inquired. "It all seems, rather suspicious if you ask me." Suddenly having a way to kill the Dark One, while fulfilling their uncertain plans -- well, uncertain to Hook anyway. "If you can guarantee me my revenge, then I will do what you want." He needed something more than these general statements. Killing the Dark One was not an easy task. "Is it only you and your beau, then" He asked a bit sarcastically, unsure who the other man was but referred to him as her beau anyway.

template by isabella