ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʜɪᴅᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀ sʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ, ɪᴛ's ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏᴡɴ.

[vampiracy]

ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ Sʏʟᴀʀ.

If he's honest, he doesn't exactly like being an errand boy for the nest. He knows that it's best to stay in the fold instead of break out of it, and his sire is quick to breathe down his neck if he's gone too long. That's why he's back in town, and picking up duties that he's neglected for a few months. He won't keep his seat if he keeps on that way, and he's determined not to lose his standing.

He has plans, and falling through the ranks is not going to get him there.

So when the topic of paying a new contract was raised, he offered to nail down the dirty details. If he's honest he's curious about this meta human they've hired to clean up messes left behind. The pirate honestly would rather his kind not leave a mess to be cleaned, but that's not a battle he's like to win today.

He helps himself into the shop, glancing around with at least a vague curiosity before he tings a bell hoping for attention. The man that answers seems rather ordinary, and Killian gives a smile that has too much teeth to be particularly warm. "Looking for the fellow that owns this place," he says, tone friendly enough.

ᴛʜᴇ Jᴏʟʟʏ Rᴏɢᴇʀ, ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀʟʟ.

He's done a lot of running around since he's arrived back from his travels. He's invited a few of his friends round to his bar to check in with them, with a back room open for only those that have been specifically welcomed.

That doesn't mean that the place is closed to everyone else, though; it's a popular enough pub, and the prices are fairly low for a person that wants to get pissed and doesn't care too much about how fancy the drinks they're taking happen to be.

He's usually in the back, but, on occasion he can be found at the pool table. Who says you can't scrub your own patrons? If you manage to beat him, he might even get you a drink.

ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ Tɪɴᴋᴇʀ Bᴇʟʟ.

( it's a bit odd, isn't it, for a vampire to stay in? he supposes that's true enough, and he's out plenty of nights. and days, his ring grants him freedom most can't boast. still, even if he doesn't sleep particularly long hours, tonight he's in on his own, and there's a bit of relief in that.

it seems every time he comes back to London, a timer sets in his feet that demands he leave again. he can't keep picking up and moving where the wind blows, there are things that demand his attention here and he knows that the longer he spends away, the more he'll lose control. his sire is unhappy for how long he's been gone, things are shifting out of place and he'll never stay on top of it if he doesn't stay still.

if he's honest — and he never is, especially not with himself — the emptiness clings, whether he's in London or halfway across the world.

he doesn't expect much of the evening. it's dark and befitting of what he is, now, and he's nursing a bottle to try and get to at least a mild buzz. there might be a furry gray creature nestled on his chest, and since he's alone he'll even run a few doting touches over soft features as the demonic thing purrs with utter contentment. )

I used to be a bloody pirate captain, you know. ( the cat doesn't answer his bitter musings of spending his nights petting a cat and watching terrible television considering his epic past, she just tucks her face into her paws and purrs more. if the cat is meant to be frightened of him, either for his villainous past or his current state of undead, she must have missed that memo. he pretends he doesn't dote on the cat, but when he's alone, it's hard not to.

she'll go home soon enough, he's not sure when; just that when she does the place will seem even more vacant than usual. it's like he's forgotten how to make a place feel like home. then again, did he ever really know how to do that? )

Comments

[vampiracy]

( it's not much of an answer as far as the hunt, but he doesn't expect one. there were some parts of the otherworld that most in the supernatural community had an ear on, the hunt was one of them, yet specifics were really for the fae and it was probably for the best there wasn't a conflict of interest. no matter how curious he was, knowing things that could only cause problems wasn't a good idea... even though a part of him might like to be able to hear whatever she wanted to share. they both have to hold things back, and though there's an understanding as to why, he doesn't think either of them enjoy it.

he doesn't, anyway.

as for his trip, there's nothing particularly revealing in talking about it. ) The cat didn't care for Belize. She's dreadful taste, the sailing was lovely. ( Tink took his hand and drew him around his own flat like she owned the place, and yet in a way, it sort of felt like she did. there were more marks of her here than there were of him, from the blanket she kept on the couch to the little things she kept stowed behind his bathroom mirror, an unspoken understanding that she could keep them there for when she might need them. he tries to subtly hide the bottle he'd been working on behind the lamp, but there's really no hiding it. he may be a vampire, he drinks to hold back hunger rather than intoxicate, but Tink had never cared for that habit, not even when he was human.

he sits down and really, he'd much prefer the fairy on top of him than the cat. he gives a sigh but it's not so bad when Tinker Bell joins him. fine, he'll tolerate the cat if it means the fairy in his lap. ) Did you hear that, Pixie? The Lady missed us. ( Pixie merely flattens her ears, clearly troubled by how much conversation was happening during her eighth nap of the day. oh well, the pirate would rather she forget about the cat. ) I think you might like Belize. Next time you should come with me. ( he is not aware of how many times he asks the fairy to run off with him, but the answer is very likely too many. )