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

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? )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"If only that were not the hardest thing to be at times." What a riddle, pirate. He can't say he's the man he was once, not anymore. Hadn't been for a long time. As far as hostilities went, though, he saw no reason to abhor all fae. In fact, feeding on them seemed more dangerous than beneficial to him. He relied on blood to survive, but he didn't relish it. If he had to do it, he'd rather not suck on a fae that would only leave him more starved than he was when he started.

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."

"Well, that's very calculatin' of you," said Heiji amiably. "And I'm sure my colleagues would approve. I had the impression you guys were already pretty well taken care of, though."

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.

"If you mean the Nest, we're quite all right." Hook was not a fool, he doubted that the Nest itself would ever align with the Fae. All the same...

"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.

"Yeah? So what are ya interested in?" Heiji wasn't asking out of mere curiosity; he actually didn't really know what vampires would be interested in aside from the obvious. Not being staked, say, and having enough blood to satiate themselves.

Plus, it seemed like Hook was doing pretty well for himself thus far. But maybe he had his sights on bigger things.

There was a lot more to (un)living than just having enough blood to subsist and avoiding hunters, actually. Hook had his motivations, and not all of them were crystal clear, even to those he was close to, but there was one he did little to hide.

"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."

Heiji's eyes widened almost imperceptibly in surprise before he looked away, frowning. "I'm sure you already know this, but artifacts like that come pretty steep. And they're usually in the possession of someone who ain't keen on having someone take their investment away from them."

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.

No, he did not suppose the Dark One would be very keen to lose his dagger. That really didn't seem to hold any sway with him. The pirate shrugged, glancing down at his rum as if it were utterly fascinating.

"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?

Rum was pretty great, to be fair. Heiji didn't have high hopes when it came to dissuading humans (or former humans) from pursuing dark magical artifacts, though it would have been a nice switch if at least one person considered the warnings. Maybe? At some point?

"Guess that's true. Can I ask why ya want it?" Since it was apparently not an urgent request.

Pretty great, but a rather lacking conversationalist. He'd noticed that in a long centuries of living, too. Surely there was some human that had been properly frightened off the chase of dark magic before, but this was a man that had been looking for the dagger for his entire undead life. It was the reason he'd asked for a turn in a first place. No, chances of him changing his mind were quite nominal. He'd literally died for this.

"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.

While it was mildly surprising that someone would seek out a powerful artifact to destroy it rather than use it (for once), this was actually a mission Heiji could get behind. "I'll keep an ear to the air, then," he said.

"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.

"Appreciated. If you hear anything, I'm sure I can drum up something you'd like for it." Bargaining with fae was not his favorite thing, honestly, but Heiji wouldn't even be the first. They generally weren't impressed by money, yet they all had a price. It was a matter of finding it.

"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.

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

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