ᴋɪʟʟɪᴀɴ ᴊᴏɴᴇs | CAPTAIN HOOK (
vampiracy) wrote in
undergrounds2015-07-22 11:25 pm
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ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʜɪᴅᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀ sʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ, ɪᴛ's ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏᴡɴ.
ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ Sʏʟᴀʀ.
ᴛʜᴇ Jᴏʟʟʏ Rᴏɢᴇʀ, ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀʟʟ.
ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ Tɪɴᴋᴇʀ Bᴇʟʟ.
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? )
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Well, certainly if you found a bunch of secret gold, you were supposed to notify the proper authorities. "I was wondering if they weren't going to have one of them talking pirate animatronics in here. But it's nice."
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He glanced around the bar, and yes, it wasn't particularly flashy. He'd intended to get a close replication to the sort of pub he'd frequented centuries ago. There were some modern chances, it wasn't possible to really run a place as debaucherous as he remembered, yet there was some fondness held for the place. He'd owned it long enough, after all. "Despite the name, I'd imagine there's a very scant amount of pirates here."
Just the one, as far as he knew.
"Killian. You are?" He could try for a name, couldn't he? Pretty commonplace in conversation.
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"Heiji." He leaned in closer, smiling in a slightly enigmatic manner that might have been construed as either flirtatious or mischievous. "Wanna know a secret?"
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Heiji. Sounded Japanese, though he couldn't say for certain. He leaned in to follow the air, whichever it might have been. "Certainly. Always been fond of those."
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He watched his new acquaintance, as if gauging the reaction.
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A dangerous as well as motley crew. Could be dangerous if any of his kind caught on, but there were strict rules; no feeding on patrons. Hopefully it'd start and end without any danger... and without any tricks.
"Don't suppose you'll be finding him here. I'd have noticed him running in and out, I'd think."
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Heiji himself wasn't particular interested in bringing down the deer; he simply hadn't been raised with the stories.
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"It's an honor to have the hunt in my pub," the vampire decides quite magnanimously, and really, it's not entirely sincere. He's a climber and a manipulator if there ever was one. Still, he waves at the bartender and declares a round on the house, which at least declares his sentiment not entirely empty.
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"An honor, huh? That's a pretty unusual sentiment." At the very least, this probably meant there wasn't going to be a bar fight. He did wonder about the motives of a vampire that welcomed the fae's presence, though. Or claimed to.
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Hook new well enough that a fae could spot a vampire far easier than the other way around. Tink had told him as much. She was really what stained his opinion in their favor, yet he was one of the few that wouldn't make a meal out of a wayward fae, which wasn't what most vampires could offer.
"We can't all be the same, can we? The world would be terribly dull that way. I've always thought there's no reason for hostility until provoked, and I have yet to be."
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"I like the sentiment, though. We should be ourselves before we're anyone else." Assuming one had that luxury, of course. Refraining from attacking anyone did seem a bit like defeating the purpose when it came to being a vampire... but maybe Hook preferred more civil transactions.
Personally, Heiji found the idea of subsisting on blood to be unappealing at best. Like living in some kind of eternal twilight in which all your nutrients had to be in liquid form. Juicing: also not a fan.
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Perhaps that was because he'd never tasted fae blood, but considering how easily he took to addiction, that was for the best. "I've always seen the value in allies. I'd be discounting a very powerful force if I cut off every last of your kind."
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After all, Islington was allied with the Night Council. They had a representative and everything. And even Redbright seemed concerned with not pissing them off... for now.
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"I've never been ruled by anyone but myself. Their interests don't have to be my only ones." The pirate in him still didn't care for the pressure of someone else telling him how to think. Despite his connections, he didn't agree with the Nest on everything.
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Plus, it seemed like Hook was doing pretty well for himself thus far. But maybe he had his sights on bigger things.
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"Many things, I assure you, but one in particular. I'm looking for a magical dagger. The Dark One's dagger." It wasn't something everyone had heard about, granted, but the weapon was powerful enough that plenty had. "I don't suppose you've heard of it."
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This was excluding the complications that came with many items -- the ones that couldn't be detached from their current owners without killing them, the ones that required human sacrifice in order to work.
"If there's any way you can accomplish whatever you need that thing for by some other means, I'd really recommend that route. Otherwise you're better off asking someone who specializes in collectibles." Though that, of course, came with its own dangers. You couldn't be a dealer in dark artifacts without getting your hands dirty.
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"I've been looking for some time. So far, no luck in specialists... but as of right now I have forever to look." It aggrieved him that he'd been at it for hundreds of years now, but what else did he have, if not this?
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"Guess that's true. Can I ask why ya want it?" Since it was apparently not an urgent request.
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"To destroy it." And he knew exactly what destroying it would do, that was why he wanted it. The Dark One would pay for what he'd done, one day, and his dagger was both his strength and his weakness.
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"Things like that shouldn't be lurkin' around the world in the first place." They presented too much temptation -- something humans were notoriously bad at staving off.
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"As for now, enjoy the break from the hunt. And if any of your friends seem keen to pay with fool's gold, there's a pub down the street I'm sure would take it." He gave a nod and collected a newly refreshed drink, before heading through the crowd to the office.