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Captain Hook
"It's always nice to make an impression."
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Post by Killian Jones on Nov 27, 2014 19:22:41 GMT
Right Now WE HAVE A QUIET MOMENT She told him that there was no one else she'd rather be with, and the words -- once again -- meant the world to him. He was fully aware that this was not her first relationship. But the fact that she was confident and sure of her decision, honored him. "That makes two of us," he told her. Once he found the woman he loved, it was rather easy to withdraw from a life of meaningless encounters with women. It was easy to commit when he found the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. And right now, that was Emma. He was certain of it, and nothing would ever make him believe otherwise. The comfort of her touch consumed him, as he took a slow, deep breath in pure relaxation. He gently caressed her upper arm where his hand was resting, her words causing a smile to form on his lips.
"Far be it from me to deter you from such a purpose, Swan," he told her when she spoke of how she'd have to go above and beyond next time to keep up. "Besides, I always enjoy some competition. Especially in this." This of course being what they had engaged in tonight. It had been beyond wonderful and he was looking forward to when they could find a second night to be together. He had already asked her out on another date, and he hoped it would end as well as this one did. He slightly turned his head so that he could look at her while he spoke. "I'm looking forward to seeing what you can come up with," he continued to tease, posing the challenge and still basking in the achievement tonight of having her distracted from all else, and thus, enabling her to let go of any ounce of control.
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Captain Hook
"It's always nice to make an impression."
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euphoria
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Oct 27, 2021 16:54:18 GMT
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Tag me @hook
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Ransom
Nov 27, 2014 19:10:29 GMT
Post by Killian Jones on Nov 27, 2014 19:10:29 GMT
Villains DON'T GET HAPPY ENDINGS She still must be traumatized from the experience of nearly drowning, for she was humoring him in his suggestive insinuations. Interesting. Very interesting indeed. Her next question distracted him from thinking of what else he could say to push the limits. She inquired as to whether he had ever fallen over.
Now that she held her cup, he took hold of his own cup, smirking at the question -- or more so his response to it. "I've never jumped overboard when there were deep and powerful currents, if that's what you're asking," he said, clearly teasing -- and slightly mocking -- her recent actions. Following his words, he took a sip of rum from his cup. "Not to mention sharks," he added, just to give her examples of what sort of dangers lurked in the water. And these were just the few very mild ones.
She then smiled and laughed at his response to her middle name, speaking of how her mother had high hopes for her. "Don't all mother's of princess?" He questioned, only somewhat rhetorically. Wasn't it the way that all royals were held with high hopes and expectations during their upbringing, as they would one day rule the kingdom. "Interesting choice though," he mused, thinking of her name of Swan. She was right; he didn't have to keep calling her princess; he was going to call her by her name . . . her middle name. She then asked him what she should call him.
"You can call me anything you like, love," he said suggestively as he winked at her. "Captain Hook is a name I obtained following the departure my hand from my arm," he stated, slightly raising his hook as his eyes rested on it. He then looked at her once more. He didn't know why he was being so casual with her. He should be trying to instill fear in her; not rant her permission to call him whatever she so pleased.
"I find it rather fitting," he continued. It added a certain . . . menace to his already widespread reputation. Though apparently, not widespread enough for Swan had not heard of him. At least that had now changed, and once his actions were revealed . . . the entire kingdom and beyond would know who he was. And that he was one to be feared.
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Captain Hook
"It's always nice to make an impression."
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euphoria
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Oct 27, 2021 16:54:18 GMT
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Tag me @hook
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Post by Killian Jones on Nov 27, 2014 18:30:17 GMT
if the heart can be BROKEN MEANS IT STILL WORKS She took the bottle and had a small sip before passing it back to him. She then broke the silence by assuring him that he did not have to ease his drinking due to her presence. He wasn't sure if he would or wouldn't. He only knew that it was the only thing that had a slight chance of allowing him to temporarily forget everything. He remained silent, taking another large swig of the beverage.
Katalina had been one of the few people who had managed to tap into whatever semblance of humanity he had left; fragments of the man he once was before embracing a life of piracy. It had been the incident at the bar all that time ago. Milah was the second who had allowed him to feel something other than greed and similar emotions that consumed a pirate's being. He doubted he would ever feel that again for another.
"Likewise," he told her, offering her the bottle again. For he had noticed that she had taken only a small sip of the drink, and he didn't want her to feel like she too had to slow her drinking because of him. He knew why she was here. Moral support. Words were not even needed. It once again revealed how well Katalina knew Killian.
"Besides, it's bad form to be the only one drinking when someone else is present," he added in a somber voice. His words, ordinarily spoken with jest, teasing and sarcasm, lacked such emotions even if the content implied that they were somewhat of a joke. He lacked the strength to put up a front. And he didn't feel the need to do so in front of her. She knew him well, and he had nothing to hide from her. Nor did he even want to. Had he concerned himself with what she thought of him, he would have dismissed her. But the bond they developed throughout the years, made him far closer to her than that.
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Captain Hook
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Post by Killian Jones on Nov 27, 2014 18:03:14 GMT
Live TO FIGHT ANOTHER DAY Killian was currently enjoying this game, because he was winning. What the others didn't know, was that he was of course cheating. Then again, perhaps some did realize that but were intelligent enough to remain silent and not call him out on it. It was instances such as these that gaining a fearsome reputation for himself worked in his favor. It was still a good game though, the boisterous crowd cheering out whenever a round was won. The rum was coming non-stop, just how Killian liked it. And he had found himself a couple of women that he would most certainly be spending the night with. Ah yes. This was a rather wonderfully typical night for the captain. Yet that was all soon about to change. Crediting his peripheral vision, he noticed a scene happening on the other end of the bar. The main thing that had caught his eye, was that it was a situation involving Katalina.
Whenever a fight or situation occurred in a tavern, all knew to keep to themselves and mind their business. It was the unspoken rule for no one wanted to put themselves in conflict when it had nothing to do with them. Some people of course became so inebriated, that they often grew reckless. Killian wasn't quite at that level of intoxication yet. He still had enough sense to know what was happening. And enough sense to not ignore it. He tried to. He kept telling himself to look at the game and focus on it; focus on one of the woman at his side, on the mug filed with rum before him. But despite all the noise and chaos of the bar, somehow, he could quite distinctly hear what was happening to Katalina, and it caused him to occasionally glance over at the scene. She was getting beaten, restrained, and touched inappropriately. He knew that soon, one thing would lead to another for her garment was already growing loose.
He could also hear her cries of protests and their violent responses to them. Mind your own business, Killian. His mind was telling him to ignore this scene, for it had nothing to do with him. It shouldn't have anything to do with him. He wanted Katalina gone from the ship, and this would be a guaranteed way of ensuring she did not return to the Jolly Roger. He should be selfish and inconsiderate. He should not care about what happens to her, not even for all the treasure she promised him -- something that he still wasn't entirely sure she even possessed. Leave her be. This isn't your fight. This had nothing to do with him. Nothing. Absolutely . . . nothing.
Killian rose to his feet, leaning toward one of the ladies. "Keep this seat warm for me, love," he said in a low voice near her ear as he winked. He didn't say anything to the men he was playing with, but instead, walked toward where Katalina was getting attacked. "Evening," he greeted nonchalantly, all too casually. It was enough to have the men cease what they were doing to her and stare at him. "This girl here is my property and I'd quite like her back." There. He was making it sound like that was all she was to him: property. But he knew that were some limits that even he had. Lines that should not be crossed. Things he did not condone. And a man forcing himself upon a woman was one of them.
"She can't be worth much," the main man leading this attack stated. He reached into his pocket and tossed a coin to the ground, at Killian's feet. "There. Now she's our property." The men snorted and he turned back to face the girl. Killian's expression altered for now, he had been insulted. To have money thrown at his feet like that?! The audacity of the man. He clearly had no idea who he was dealing with. "The asking part, was me being a gentleman," Killian stated. The man turned around to face him once again, clear annoyance on his face for the interruption and obviously not phased for he believed he had the greater advantage in numbers. But these men were nothing but drunken brutes.
"And tossin' the coin, was me bein' more than nice," the man said, evidently irritated. He began to walk up to Killian, his demeanor one that was welcoming a fight. Killian remained in place, his eyes fixated on the pathetic excuse of a supposed threat. Unlike this man here, Killian didn't need backup. "I've killed men for less," Killian stated, which caused the man to scoff at the suggestion. "Good thing you won't be able to kill me then," the man said confidently. He fisted his hand and swung at Killian. The pirate moved his head to the side, and in one swift motion, pushed the blade into the man's chest. He wasn't about to let the man live after what he had done, and while Killian knew he could use the excuse that it was because of how he insulted him, he knew it was more about what he had done -- was doing -- to Katalina. When Killian pulled his sword out of the man's chest, he fell lifelessly to the ground. Killian then looked at the other two men, still grasping Katalina. "Anyone else?" He taunted with a half smirk on his face.
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Captain Hook
"It's always nice to make an impression."
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euphoria
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Oct 27, 2021 16:54:18 GMT
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Post by Killian Jones on Nov 27, 2014 17:11:10 GMT
Rum? IT'S NOT A WEAPON;
NOT IN THE TRADITIONAL SENSE He was completely gone in this drunken state and a fit of chuckles and amusement. Quite honestly, it was refreshing to be this kind of drunk, rather than the angry and volatile kind he had been, shortly following Milah's death. Who knew that he would find so much enjoyment in the company of a non-magic possessing fairy. She stated that it was sweet of him to say that, and he paused for a moment, as if a grand realization had just struck him.
"Rump has the word rum in it. It's fate, me lass!" What was fate, he had no idea. Then again, if one tried to dissect the meaning of their conversation . . . well, they would find their time wasted. She then said that his was quite squeezable and that made him smile arrogantly, with a hint of pride in his expression as well. "How can you say that without putting the theory to the test?" He questioned suggestively. He certainly wouldn't mind being touched by her. She was a rather beautiful fairy; different from most, and he meant that in a flattering way. She then proceeded to tip her non existent hat and her vocal realization that she didn't have one, made him chuckle.
"Really? I see one . . . " He stated, his hand going to the bun she had her hair styled in as he pat it a couple of times. She adjusted her position, now lying on her stomach which gave him a rather enjoyable view of her lower backside. His eyes lingered over it, not even attempting to be subtle. His hand moved to touch her back, starting at the top and slowly trailing down it, to her posterior when he let his hand carefully graze over it, tilting his head to the side as his gaze fixated on her rather perfect figure. His intoxicated mind wasn't even processing the fact that he was touching a more intimate part of her body, for he seemed to be oblivious to the what he was doing and saying for that matter. When she commented about his hook, he casually moved his hand away and grinned at her.
"That's what I think, Tink!" He exclaimed, rather enjoying the rhyming terms. His words were pertaining to hers claiming that he was special because of what he chose to replace his hand. Not a wooden stick nor did he leave it as a stump. He wanted something, menacing. "I'm now known as Hooker! Haptain Cooker!" He slurred, continuing to mix up his letters and words. She gasped and moved her position once again as she said that she was the bean man! "You are too woman to be man," he said while chuckling. "Woah-man!" He added, combining two words to make the one that he was claiming her to be. When she asked if she could touch his hook, a flirtatious smile spread on his lips. "You can touch anything you want, love," he told her suggestively, with absolutely no subtly in his words. He slightly raised his hand so that she could touch it, though he hoped she touched something else as well. All in good time.
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Captain Hook
"It's always nice to make an impression."
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Post by Killian Jones on Nov 27, 2014 16:35:45 GMT
Live TO FIGHT ANOTHER DAY This woman was proving to be a bloody nuisance. He couldn't seem to get rid of her. Every time he tried to evade her, there she was. Ready to get back on his ship. She was a crafty and sneaky little thing, he would give her that. It was after all how she had managed to get on his ship in the first place. But it was a bad look if it was known that the Jolly Roger had a female in the crew. He could easily make up the reasons for it -- uncaring of tarnishing her reputation. Then again, she had consciously decided to remain on a ship full of men.
Hell, she was almost practically like one of them. Which was a dangerous thought. He needed to get rid of her, and he hoped that tonight, he would be successful in this mission. Though they arrived at the same tavern, she was not with his crew. He entered with his men surrounding him, others immediately greeting the crew as several cheered at their arrival. He always enjoyed making an entrance. He was after all, Captain Killian Jones. "Order rum for me lads!" He announced, his words reciprocated with cheers once again. He found his way to a table, noticing from the corner of his eye that Katalina was sitting there, drinking her own fill. And she seemed to find the company of a man. Most excellent!
He hoped that either she would drink too much and therefore be unable to navigate her way back to the ship. Or that her night would be spent in the company of the men and discovering the pleasures that the night could bring. Or perhaps, if Killian was really lucky, it would be a combination of both. Either way, he was not going to pay her any attention. He was here with his crew mates . . . all of which were men! And there was no room on the Jolly Roger for a woman. With that thought, he raised his mug, made a toast, and as everyone cheered in response, he took a large swig of the delicious beverage while a few other men began to gather, offering dice for a game. The night was already off to an excellent start!
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Post by Killian Jones on Nov 27, 2014 16:21:06 GMT
if the heart can be BROKEN MEANS IT STILL WORKS Hook hardly looked at the door when it opened and someone approached. The dimly lit room revealed enough of the figure for Hook to know who it was, even without glancing at the person who casually entered without knocking. Petite; light footsteps. It was Katalina.
Few could get away with entering so boldly, and she was indeed one of them. He was well aware of why she was here. Offering comfort in her company. Hook was beyond that though; he was beyond any hope of being comforted. Nothing that anybody did could ease the pain of this loss. Yet he was also quite aware that she of all people was familiar with the feeling, for she too had loved and lost. He remained silent, not turning his head even when she moved to sit next to him. Were words really necessary?
He was not going to pretend nor put on a false face. What use was there in lying? What would the purpose be in acting like everything was alright when it wasn't? She had been on the crew long enough to know him and the long term effect -- perhaps permanent one -- that this would have on him. His gaze remained fixated on nothing in particular apart from being directed in front of him. He wanted the rum to numb everything in his heart and soul, and he would keep drinking until he reached that level. But of course, now he had some company. He wordlessly held the bottle out toward her, not even looking her way while making this silent offer.
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Post by Killian Jones on Nov 27, 2014 12:58:42 GMT
It's Always Nice TO MAKE AN IMPRESSION This was all so far beyond what Killian was accustomed to. Never did he think he would be preparing for his wedding to a princess, in an elaborately decorated hall with an extravagant ball to follow. He was more a man of the sea. However, he did not dispute anything. He knew Emma had been deprived of all this -- whether she wanted it now or not -- and it was important to both her parents to do this for her. Killian wasn't about to create any tension with her family. So many would come to celebrate her wedding and Killian wanted to honor that. Especially considering he was the groom. He just focused on the fact that he would be starting his life with Emma because despite all this planning and extravagance . . . that was what truly mattered.
They had not planned their life after this: whether they would return to her world, or remain here in the Enchanted Forest. It was really up to Emma, as he would follow her anywhere and she had more familial ties than he did. Though he supposed this was his family now too. What an odd thought. He had mostly stayed out of the planning, only giving input when it was needed . . . which was seldom. Even his suit for the wedding was not one he would ordinarily wear; it was that of a prince. But alas, he had accepted it, just as he embraced all this unfamiliarity. He had however managed to get his hand back; a nice perk for the wedding, though he knew Emma already had fallen in love with a one handed man. Still. It would be nice to get full use out of it; to hold her, touch her, dance with her properly . . . he would definitely not take his regained hand for granted.
Killian was currently looking out his window, deep in thought. He had to admit that the view was incredible; the entire castle was incredible. He wasn't sure how others would react to him come tomorrow, nor did he really care. The point was that tonight would be the last night he went to bed alone. That he would be committed his body, heart, and soul to Emma Swan and nothing, would make him happier. A knock at the door broke him out of this contemplative state as he turned his head in its direction. He immediately recognized the voice on the other end: Mary Margaret -- or Snow White as she was known here. Dressed in his regular pirate attire, he made his way to the door and opened it, revealing Emma's mother. She was the one doing most all the planning and had clearly been excited about the event.
He gave her a slight smile, knowing that he would never be able to call her mom or anything along those lines. It was too . . . bizarre. Though maybe that would change with time? But it was certainly in place for now. "Aye," he answered, a slight cheekiness in his voice since the answer to her question was obvious seeing as he opened the door, though he felt the need to confirm it anyway. "Care to come in?" He asked, stepping aside just in case she would want to. It was a good thing that Snow was a rather expressive woman, for had her expression been different, he would have panicked that something had happened to Emma.
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Post by Killian Jones on Nov 27, 2014 2:53:22 GMT
Emma? WHO'S EMMA? I ONLY SEE YOU He eagerly but calmly awaited her response, planning on being persistent of she said no, but of course without forcing himself upon her. There were lines that even Hook did not cross. She looked at him, silence ensuing, before she finally confirmed that she did not in fact to be alone tonight. Furthermore, she admitted that she wanted things to be like they were in Neverland . . . carefree, and just pure fun. "Then why can't we bloody do that here?" He asked, his voice still calm but determined in his words.
"We managed to find more fun on that accursed island than we do here." For in this small town, there was always one thing after another. It never ended! And you couldn't escape these people. He didn't have his ship to sail away on when he needed to be on the sea. Of course he and Tinkerbell had one very specific thing in common: neither had a loved one here. That was what made all the difference in any place, having that companionship that they both lacked. Which was why he knew that her, more than others, would understand. That, and not to mention the fact that they had quite a bit of fun last time they allowed themselves to be carefree.
She then asked if he promised not to make fun of her if she fell over. He lips curved upward into a seductive smile, his gaze filled with lust and desire for her, as he raised his hook, using the side of it -- the dull part -- to gently caress her cheek. "I'll ensure that doesn't happen," he told her, not entirely joking for he did not plan to put this night to waste should she continue to agree to be with him. "Now that you mention it though, are you certain you don't want a drink before we go?" He could always do with more alcohol, but he wondered if she preferred to be sober, or if she wanted some liquid courage to fully ease any hesitations she had. Then again, the moment they got to the room, he would make sure she wasn't thinking about anything else . . . just like he didn't plan on thinking at all.
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Post by Killian Jones on Nov 27, 2014 2:44:23 GMT
It's Always Nice TO MAKE AN IMPRESSION Hook was pulled out of his pensive state when a familiar face seated himself right across Hook's booth seat. He raised his eyes to meet David's a slight smile growing on the pirate's lips. "Sheriff," he greeted. He would be lying if he said he was surprised by David's words. He knew this had been coming, despite their short conversations regarding Emma -- once in Neverland, and then when the ice wall had just been formed. And, now they were alone with no distractions to divert the conversation.
David asked Hook if he was alright and Hook wasn't about to go into detail about what plagued his mind. Instead, he kept the focus on David's purpose of being here. "Aye," he answered simply but confidently. "Just enjoying this rather pleasurable beverage from this world." Coffee. An odd but delicious drink. "Would you care for one?" He asked, wondering if the prince would like one before they got started on the conversation. Hook then reached into his jacket pocket to reveal his flask.
"I like to add a special ingredient. Gives it a bit of a kick," he added smiling. That secret ingredient of course being rum. If anyone would have told him that he would be sitting with Prince James talking about his intentions with his daughter . . . Hook would have thought them insane. But alas, here they were. And quite honestly, Hook cared too much for Emma to be entirely dismissive of her father, for he knew the two had grown close this past little while. And he wanted to give Emma as much confidence as he could that she had made the right choice in being with him.
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Post by Killian Jones on Nov 27, 2014 2:27:19 GMT
It's a device for... TALKING, I DON'T BLOODY KNOW Hook had spent the last twenty minutes trying to send what was apparently called a 'text message' from his talking phone. If it was a talking phone, then why could you click letters on it too? It was so absurd. This device seemed to have so many different functions. Hook had been rather impressed that he'd learned how to call her, but now, had texted him and it was a whole other bloody mission to reply.
He had been on his way to the diner, but the message had captured his attention . . . his undivided attention. So now he was leaning against the wall of a building on the street, trying to push random buttons that would miraculously cause letters to appear. A . . . n . . . d . . . "No!" Great! Another other letter popped up and then the word automatically changed to . . . abduction?! "What the bloody hell," he mumbled to himself. So not only could you type things, but the words also automatically changed.
Hook gripped the phone tightly, taking a deep breath and trying to ensure he didn't throw it to the ground. This was so damn irritating. Why couldn't they just use birds to deliver messages. This place was small enough; it's not like it would take long to find the person. These talking phones weren't the only bizarre items in this place. He had found a rather fascinating place the other day. He didn't now how he was ever gong to get used to all this . . . but he was far from giving up. He wanted to stay here for Emma so he was going to damn well learn all he could. it may be a world without magic but it really had quite a lot that even magic would not be able to comprehend.
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Nov 26, 2014 15:56:58 GMT
Post by Killian Jones on Nov 26, 2014 15:56:58 GMT
Villains DON'T GET HAPPY ENDINGS She made a joke regarding his ego and how it was not too big for they were both able to fit in this room. Apparently, they were capable of having an actual conversation. And Hook wasn't sure if he liked this or not. It was becoming dangerously close to . . . being nice. And she was his prisoner! Yet, here he was, offering her a proper room to rest in, medicine to help her throat, and a cup of rum in his quarters. What the bloody hell was he thinking? Her next comment once again, further showed how unpredictable she was. He was trying to determine whether she was indeed returning his suggestive remark with a hint of suggestiveness of her own.
"Are you suggesting you would care to find out the most effective method?" He was pushing her; seeing how far she would go in her remarks. If she would return them or if she would have enough of them. After all, he quite enjoyed provoking people. He watched her drink the content of the vial without dispute and then commented about how well it worked.
"Aye. You wouldn't be the first to nearly drown, lass." If a man fell overboard, or another accident occurred . . . well, it was handy to have such remedies available. She then looked to the ground and said that he didn't have to call her princess; her name was Emma Swan. That was her full name then? Killian took a few steps toward her, extending the cup of rum for her to take with an amused smirk on his face. "Swan?" He repeated, a slight mockery in his voice, but it was feigned. He found it rather befitting. Graceful. Beautiful. Elegant. Ah yes. Swan she was.
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Post by Killian Jones on Nov 26, 2014 15:46:41 GMT
Right Now WE HAVE A QUIET MOMENT He was enjoying just watching her, seeing the emotions on her face that he had never seen before. He wanted to memorize it, to forever have it in his memory. While she always looked so beautiful, right now, she looked at peace; as if there was nothing in the world that could face her. No cause for stress or worry. Just . . . Emma Swan. Finding a semblance of normality in the crazy world she was thrown into. She opened her eyes and playfully scolded him for making her do this. "You say that like it's a bad thing," he teased in return, a smile playing on his lips. Truth was, he had on regrets and would do this again in a heartbeat.
She then suggestively agreed that it was most impressive, and Killian released a slight chuckle of amusement. She then adjusted her position so that she was resting her head against his chest, as he moved his arm so that it was draped behind her, his hand coming up to rest against her her upper arm, holding her close to him. It was moments like these that most certainly created the term perfection. For he could think of nothing better than holding the woman he loved. He had told the Dark One that he wanted to hold Emma with both his hands, and now, he was able to do so. The sensation was beyond compare, and he wished this moment never had to come to its inevitable end.
She then spoke words that he had so longed to hear, and yet made his heart swell with love, devotion and honor. She wanted him to stay with him tonight. She didn't want him to rush out in case her family returned home. She wanted him to remain with her, and Killian would do so for as long as she would have him. "I can think of no where else I would rather be," he said in a low tone of voice, slightly turning his head to kiss the side of her head. How he wanted to say those words: those three words. But he fought them back. It was too soon. And while he felt them, he did not want to overwhelm her so early in their solidifying relationship. "You never need ask," he added, using these words to replace the other ones that were in danger of surfacing. She never had to ask him to stay for he would remain with her until she asked him to leave. He was here for her and only for her. Nothing else kept him in this world. She had brought him back to life and he wanted to devote it to Emma Swan.
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"It's always nice to make an impression."
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Pirate Captain
Occupation
Peter Pan
Story
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euphoria
Offline
Oct 27, 2021 16:54:18 GMT
AST
Tag me @hook
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Post by Killian Jones on Nov 26, 2014 15:26:24 GMT
if the heart can be BROKEN MEANS IT STILL WORKS Hook was currently drowning his sorrows with the aid of a bottle of rum. This was not a rare occurrence. While the captain had always enjoyed rum, he did not drink for the pleasure of it this past little while. He drank, to help him forget. To help him cope with the seeming unbearable pain of her. Milah. His beloved Milah. The first woman he had ever loved, and whom he believed to be the last. She had opened up a whole new part of his heart that he hadn't even been aware existed. The Dark One might as well have ripped out Killian's heart too and crushed it that day for losing Milah felt just as painful.
No. Worse. For one could not feel when they were dead. Plus, death could have reunited them. Killian was not exactly suicidal; his reason for living now was vengeance. He would devote his life to seeking revenge against the Dark One. It started with finding a way to kill him. And in order to do that, Killian needed to spend as much time as possible finding out what weapon could be used. Which led them to their most recent journey to a tavern which was rumored to frequent a merchant who could provide information about what he needed. For Neverland was another realm not so easily traveled.
But alas, his mind was not on the mission right now. He was sitting on a chair in his quarters, slouched, clutching a near empty rum bottle -- and it was far from his first. And he still did not feel the effects of it. He wanted everything to be numbed so he didn't have to feel anything or relive the moment when she died. Night was the most difficult. For all the time he had been with her, he had never slept alone. And now, his bed felt colder than ever. Sleep evaded him, but nor did he have the strength to distract himself with steering or doing other work on the ship.
He wanted to be alone, for the only one who was capable of soothing this pain, was her. And she was never returning to him. She was gone. And Killian did not know how to live with that. He raised his handless arm, eying the hook that he had used to replace it. Damn him. Damn Rumplestiltskin. The anger began to build inside Killian -- or Hook as his name was starting to become -- and he began to tremble with rage. The angrily threw the rum bottle in a fit of rage against the wall, causing it shatter into pieces.
He needed more. More to ease the pain. He then reached for another bottle, bringing it to his lips and using his teeth to pull out the cork, spitting it to the ground and then taking a rather large swig of the beverage. With any luck, he would fall unconscious soon from the over consumption of this drink. But one could only hope.
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Captain Hook
"It's always nice to make an impression."
Personal Text
Pirate Captain
Occupation
Peter Pan
Story
|
euphoria
Offline
Oct 27, 2021 16:54:18 GMT
AST
Tag me @hook
|
|
Post by Killian Jones on Nov 26, 2014 15:13:24 GMT
Emma? WHO'S EMMA? I ONLY SEE YOU In his still somewhat sober state, he could tell that she was upset. Not that she was overly expressive of it, but he could see it in her eyes. Hear it in her voice. Yet he made no move to apologize. He just remained silent, taking another sip of his beverage and as he parted it from his lips, she continued talking. She spoke of how Emma was insane for not appreciating what he had done. Perhaps he was the insane one for hoping that they could be together. But Tinkerbell went on, to tell him that he was returning to the man he once was . . . the one who sought her out because he was angry and hurt.
This hadn't been the first time he had made advances toward her, nor was it the first time she rejected him. It was when she asked whether he considered her feelings that he paused and looked at her intently. She spoke of how it was all about Emma and . . . he couldn't completely deny that. But nor did he just seek anyone out. There was certainly something about Tink. Her eyes shined with the threat of tears, and . . . well, it made him loathe himself even more.
He was a pirate. He was not one meant to be happy or make others happy, clearly. She then dismissed herself, saying that she needed air as she was quick to leave his company. He didn't move. Instead, he finished the rest of his drink all at once, closing his eyes and heavily swallowing as he let the taste linger, at the burn felt oh so good. He couldn't let her just walk out like that. Setting the now empty glass down, he spun around and hurried toward the door, just missing her as she walked out. "Tink, wait," he urged, quickly moving past the door and toward her. He reached out to take her arm in attempt to stop her, and moved so that he was now standing in front of her, blocking her from moving forward.
"I don't want it to be," he told her. He didn't want it to be about Emma, even though he couldn't deny the ache in his heart. "Why do we have to bring feelings into this?" Feelings. Loving someone. It was all too complicated and never ended up well. When you loved, you lost. "Why can't we just . . . be what we once were: carefree." Just be together in all the physical ways and damn the consequences and results.
That was of course Hook's perspective; and he feared hers were contrasting to this considering her reaction to his advances. He took a slightly small step forward, and then another one, so that he was even closer in front of her. He knew this was pushing it, but he also just wanted to stop caring about everything else, and let the drink do its work. Yet the alcohol was merely a scapegoat for his own self, for he, was his own worst enemy. "Besides, do you really want to be alone tonight?" He asked, in a low voice, hardly above a whisper, thick with lustful suggestiveness.
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