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ᴛʜᴇ ᴅaɴɢeʀ ɪs I'ᴍ ᴅaɴɢeʀoᴜs. aɴᴅ I ᴍiɢʜᴛ ᴊusᴛ ᴛeaʀ ʏou aᴘaʀᴛ.

ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ Nᴀɴᴄʏ.

He promised the girl a night out, and the night out he's going to give. He's arguably a bit late in keeping up with his promise, yet Killian isn't always known for his promptness. There were things that required his attention at the Nest, after his long stay away, and now it's a matter of putting all ducks in a row again. There's unrest about all the territories being siezed around them, but for all the whispers about it, Hook cares little for it. As long as the wolves don't accumulate much more land, he hopes to stay out of it. He likely won't be that lucky.

Perhaps this will be a welcome distraction for him as well as Nancy. He'd picked her up like a proper gentleman, and food had gone first — he may not eat much anymore, but he'd made sure to do it well for her sake — and now they're off to the second part of their adventure. It's not far a walk, so he suggested they do that, though that's perhaps hard on the poor girl's feet.

"If you can guess what's next I might have to give you a prize," he teases her with what is very nearly a grin. She's been a bit odd tonight, he has to say, yet it's been some time he spent time with someone he's genuinely fond of. Probably because he is not genuinely fond of many.

ᴛʜᴇ Jᴏʟʟʏ Rᴏɢᴇʀ. ( ᴏᴘᴇɴ )

Hook is nearly always at his pub by night, though not always in the front. He'll invite certain people to the back room — generally vampires, who are welcome to have a little blood with their alcohol thanks to the fangbangers that are friendly with the nest, but not necessarily just them. The only rule is no fighting on the premises, and if you break the rules you're not likely to stay long.

If Killian isn't found in the bar itself, he's probably in his office. At times working on problems for the nest. And if you're really lucky, you might spot him in the company of a small, precocious grey kitten. She has a bed in the corner but she always sleeps in the most inconvenient place imaginable.

ᴘᴏʀᴛ ᴏғ Lᴏɴᴅᴏɴ. ( ᴏᴘᴇɴ )

It doesn't matter how long it's been since his epic, sea-faring adventures; the pirate will always exist in him, and that means that he spends a lot of time by the water when he's landlocked to London. He is often there close to evening, wishing for the city lights to be a little dimmer so he can catch a glimpse at the stars, but sometimes he's there during the day.

He even takes on odd jobs aboard on occasion, when he misses being out on the water enough. It's not that he doesn't have his own boats, he just misses the sensation of working on a crew. If you spot him, don't expect him to stop until the day's work is done.

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Mab had to move into Southwark to meet the captain who carried her cargo. Fortunately it wasn't that far out of the way for her as she'd been spending time in Lewisham of late anyway. Grimalking was still strolling the streets of the territory she was claiming along with several others so it gave her a moment to slip away to pick up the order of rare books she'd been expecting. Sometimes it was very convenient to be the type of thing that lived for ages. It meant she had plenty of time to accumulate wealth enough to indulge in her own pursuit of useful tomes. Not that the fae really needed to worry about money anyway, a little glamor and they could hand over gold bars if they needed to. It was unnecessary now.

She stood on the stone wall of the lock and looked out over the smaller craft waiting for the captain to meet her when he'd promised. She had gone to a lot of trouble for this but it was rare to get access to books from the middle east. The humans there were nearly as exclusionary as the fae and guarded their treasures like dragons. The sun had set an hour ago and it was probably not the safest place for a woman to wait for a shady captain but if she was worried it did not even remotely appear on her face. Other sailors moved around her, only glancing occasionally in curiosity other than an occasional offer from a sailor coming back from a pub. She simply fixed the sailor with her coldest look and then turned away dismissing his importance completely. The most recent time with less than positive results. It took the sailor a moment to understand he'd been rejected, and then a moment longer for his face to turn red with embarrassment and anger.

From the outside it probably looked like she didn't notice the man advancing threateningly toward her back.

It was funny how the docks seemed to change with the falling of the sun. It was not quite the unruly state he remembered from centuries ago, back when he was more than just a pencil pusher for the nest, back when he could sail the seas and punish the crown that deserved it, yet it was similar. It makes him feel nostalgic more than anything. It's been a very long time since then... a part of him will always miss it.

The darkness is supposedly his hour, considering what he is now. It doesn't bother him to be out at the docks as things grow a little more grim and dangerous. There's not much that could trouble him, after all. He's not even headed anywhere in particular, since he's got nowhere in particular to go, when he notices an incensed man advancing on a woman that seemed severely out of place.

Whether she doesn't notice or not, he doesn't want to risk it. He zips forward a few steps, far too fast to be appropriately human, before he snags the man with one fist in the back of his jacket. "Take a hike or take a swim, your choice." Even as a pirate, he had no fondness for such things. He still had some faith in good form.

Well, it was probably better that the vampire handled it than she did, it would be difficult to explain a human iceblock in the middle of August. She turned as he spoke to the gentleman who was spluttering profanities now and jerking in his jacket trying to get free. Her eyes moved from the indignant and definitely drunk sailor, to Killian.

His movement had been too quick to be human, and his magic was not fae or wolf so it made the conclusion that he was a vampire easier. That his magic felt a little like Baron Coopers helped as well. She'd already been propositioned for her blood once this month but he didn't seem to be high on it at least so perhaps it was just a coincidence that he decided to step in. The sailor settled a little in Hook's grip, drooping like he was giving up and Mab watched the Vampire with some interest to see what he would do.

A part of him was almost disappointed by the lack of reaction. A bit of splutter and bluster and then ducking down and muttering apologies and promises he was just trying to head home, honest. Hook missed the bared teeth and sharp personalities he used to run into centuries ago. It was easy to get into a fight then, and there was some kind of thrill in it. For a man that had been dead for so long, he was running out of ways to feel alive.

He begrudgingly released the man, with enough of a shove that he nearly lost his feet. "See that you do," he muttered, wiping off his hands like he'd been touching filth. He didn't pay much mind to the man as he scampered away. If he came back (or laid in wait) he'd certainly hear it. His eyebrows lifted at the picture she painted, but unlike the lady herself, he had no way of knowing he was looking at something supernatural. "A bit of an odd place to find a lady. Especially at this hour." It's not exactly condemnation, just curiosity. "Looking for someone in particular, love? Perhaps I can help you."

Considering the man thought he'd be assaulting a lone woman, and instead found himself dealing with a clearly in shape man, took a lot of wind out of the man's sails. He glared at Hook before stomping away, weaving a little on his trek. Mab ignored him in favor of the vampire who moved as though he'd spent some time in a different century. Something closer to her own natural movements.

"Mmm." The sound came out low and considering. "Is it?" She didn't look around though, or take in how much quieter it was now aside from the occasional call from a ship, or group of tourists passing by on the street above. "I have found it makes life more interesting if one is willing to step outside of other's comfort zone." There was a hint of amusement in her eyes and they might look a little bright as the sky darkened through twilight into true night. The charcoal grey suit she wore made her hair and skin almost glow as the streetlights turned on and a whisp of fog curled around her feet before disappearing again.

Her fingers moved to touch where a watch would be if she wore one and she lifted one shoulder. "I am to meet the captain of this vessel in ten minutes to pick up some inventory promised." Her teeth flashed, small and white and possibly a little sharp in a smile. "How fortunate for me that you happened along." Assuming he wasn't just chasing off competition to try to rob her or drain her. Of course if he was she did not look the least bit concerned about the prospect.

"Always thought that myself." It'd been a bit of a troublesome habit back when he was human, had ended up with scars and injuries he certainly didn't need, yet he'd possessed a real skill for avoiding death until he'd given it up for revenge. Technically, he still had skill in survival, it just wasn't exactly life he was so determined to protect.

She was a curious creature, and he couldn't exactly pin why. Despite being very close with at least one fae, he knew enough of them to know that they were as widely different as humans were. They generally didn't care to show their nature very easily, especially not around something like him. She seemed abnormal at best, and that honestly didn't give a man too much. There were plenty of abnormal people running about London and they weren't magical in the slightest, just entirely too eccentric for their own good. The lack of consideration to where she was, the eerie confidence, was the strangest of all... but she could just have been naive, stupid, or both, to think she'd have no trouble after dark at the docks.

He glanced at the ship she referenced, frowning a little. He knew the captains and vessels fairly well, and if he wasn't mistaken, the one she was waiting for was quietly known for his willingness to smuggle rare items into port for those willing to pay enough. "You seem a capable lady, but I'd be a horrible gentleman if I just walked by. Care for company until he arrives?"

"A rare quality I have found." She replied, "But it makes you more interesting." He assessed things and she didn't rush him while he did so. He was clearly at home down here next to the river, with boats creaking along the shore in the slight waves from the evening breeze and other passing ships. Not generally a place you'd think to find a vampire. But then again, many people along the shores of the Thames did not venture out for long spells in which anemic crews would cause a stir. They moved up and down the river mooring where desired especially the smaller vehicles.

Her head dipped, acknowledging the politeness of him noting she could likely handle herself. Even if it was more flattery than true belief. "You may linger if it suits you." She offered, lifting a hand in invitation that seemed to present the stones of the lock in general. They were, for the most part, alone and she played her hand a bit just to see how he'd handle it. "I hope I have not interrupted your hunt, Gentleman Vampire."

Yes, a vampire fond of sailing was quite an odd condition indeed. It'd made his exploits in the past even more dangerous, and his bloodythirsty reputation quite literal. It had unnerved his men to keep live prisoners in the brig, but they'd been happy to tell him whatever useful thing they had in their miserable heads once he'd fed on them. He compelled them to all remember him as terrifying and brutal and set them on their way, miserable and confused. Sometimes it was more important to build infamy than it was to kill.

He had no particularly reason to stay, yet he had no particular reason to go, either. Which was enough reason to linger for him. He didn't suspect she needed defending and honestly he liked to call himself a gentleman, but he really didn't try terribly hard to uphold it. He was more curious than anything, though it seemed a dangerous curiosity when she guessed at something she really shouldn't have known.

There was a tick in his jaw, a slight tensing she'd really have to look for. He didn't think she was a hunter, but this would be a rather annoying night if she was. "Surely not, it'd be foolish to piss in the well." He didn't actually work around here, but he was around enough that he didn't need to cause unnecessary trouble for himself. "Would you stop me if you had?" Hunters aren't much for bargaining, he has found, but they did like to announce themselves. She was either a hunter or magical of some sort, to have sensed what he was.

It took a certain sense of humor to spread rumors about being bloodthirsty when one was actually bloodthirsty. Mab enjoyed the macabre humor in such things if she knew he'd done so. Though going easy on his enemies was perhaps a softness she didn't agree with.

She smiled a little as his jaw tensed, pleased that she had put him on edge. And putting him on edge brought out the sailor in him if his language was anything to go by. "Fools are not difficult to find in a city of this size." She pointed out and then tilted her head a little at his question. "I imagine it would depend on who you were hunting. I have allies in the area and I would certainly defend myself. I see no need to interfere otherwise." That's right, she's ok with draining the odd Tourist here and there. It was in his nature and Mab could understand a predator's nature.

Which meant she was likely not a hunter. And left Hook with his other option. But what would he suspect her to be. Not a light witch, likely as they had a bad habit of sticking their noses in where they didn't belong. She looked at him expectantly, waiting to see what conclusions her newly appointed bodyguard would draw.

It was not that he was incapable of taking a life. He was more than capable of that, he'd killed plenty in his extended lifetime and he had dreams of at least one more stain of blood on his hands. It's just that he had an odd fancy of who deserved it and who didn't. Good form was a questionable concept, really, but one he'd followed his entire life. He'd kill in self defense, and he'd kill those who had wronged him. Poor fools working in the Navy weren't guilty of the crown's crimes.

"You don't get to be as old as I am acting a fool." He had to be careful, and his temper was quick enough and his nature dangerous enough that sometimes he slipped, but that was hardly something one would openly admit to. His expression was calculating as she answered, half looking for deception and half trying to piece together exactly what he was dealing with.

There were a few options, and he rifled through them, but in the end he doubted she was a witch. They didn't have to cater to the light to have little fondness for vampires. Not a hunter, probably not a witch, and excluding far more confidence than most would in face of a creature like himself... "A bit strange for your kind to play their hand with mine." If she was a fae, being too obvious seemed downright foolish. There were plenty like them that would attempt to attack just at the idea of fae blood in their system.

"No? How old would that be?" She asked, since he'd mentioned it, her eyes shifting across his face because she'd never be able to tell by the way he looked, obviously. The mannerisms were her only clue. He was being much less flippant now, so he'd clearly figured some things out. It was always nice when you ran into creatures who had brains. They were much more interesting.

She smiled a little as he made a vauge enough guess that he hadn't stated outright what he thought she was. Perhaps he thought she would immediately reveal herself, but where was the fun in that? "Have I played my hand?" She tilted her head again, touching her frozen berry colored lips with the tip of a pale finger as though considering her words. "I would hardly have provided you with clues if I was concerned about revealing myself to you. Tell me, what have you decided I am?"

"Old enough." A vampire's age was a good indication of how strong they were, so telling her in exacts how old he was seemed a bit foolish. It'd be better to keep some things to himself. He's old enough to be far stronger than most humans, but that didn't mean much in the presence of a fae.

She'd played her hand enough to show she was more than a mundane. He could make a guess from what she had given away, it was just hard to say if he was right or not. Her confidence was what made him think she was fae rather than just magical. "I'd guess this isn't the world you usually frequent, my lady. Can't say I find many fae here on the docks, you very well might be my first." Unless it was a fae he'd brought there, but that was another story.

He was definitely squirrely. She liked it, well mostly she liked keeping people on edge, they were more interesting that way and Killian was certainly interesting. The waterway was clearing in the evening except a few party boats out on the water, the streetlights were all on now, even the ones that had taken their precious time to flicker to life and it left pools of darkness around them, he blended into the darkness well with his dark hair and dark clothes. She was so pale she still stood out along with that tumble of frost colored hair.

Somehow she doubted a Vampire this old hadn't seen a fae about the docks. There were enough that loved water that even if he hadn't known he was seeing a fae, he likely had. But there was no need to broadcast that to Vampires. There were certainly magical means of detecting a sidhe. "Well now, isn't that exciting." She murmured as though considering being his first. She looked at him assessingly. "I do hope you handle it better than the last of your kind I met. Though I was not his first, the poor fellow." So far he hadn't stopped traffic to ask her for a sip of her blood so really the bar was kind of low at this point.

He was a creature of survival, and yes, that did mean he found himself on edge in situations where he was not sure he'd be the winner if they ever went completely south. He had no intention of attacking the fae he'd tumbled into accidentally with (a likely pointless) show of chivalry, that didn't necessarily have to go both ways. He was a vampire and faeries were not notoriously fond of vampires, for obvious reasons. Killian was not unaware that his tendencies were far from the norm, and it was easier to assume that a vampire wanted a sparkly snack. They'd usually be correct, after all.

She was probably right that he had seen other fae near the harbor and just not known it. He wasn't capable of sensing magic, just for the sake of being undead. An item that might help him decipher when he was in supernatural company might do him some good. It was not advantageous to be in the company of powerful creatures and not have even an inkling of it until it was possibly too late.

"Thus far it's been a bit dull, darling, but that's all right. I'm not complaining." He's not looking for a fight, even if he thought he could win it. She has the composure of something that has little fear, and he's seen that sort of air before. A long time ago. At least this one wasn't aiming to make him suffer. "I'll do my best, anyway, I do fancy myself a gentleman." Seemed a bit backwards coming from a vampire, didn't it? Putting pirate on top of it, it just seemed like a terrible joke, but Killian did consider himself slightly more mannered than most of his kind. Both vampires and pirates.

Definitely not young. The younger vampires were quicker to bite first and ask questions later (if that was possible after trying to bite first). Her teeth flashed in the darkness, shining in reflection of a nearby lamp and she took a step forward, hands still at her side but definitely in his personal space. "I would hate to find I've bored you." She murmured, voice silken. And it echoed a little off the stone walls around them and the water. He was smart and polite. She approved. "After you've been kind enough to stay and protect me."

She didn't attack but she did lift a hand as though to touch him, finally. "Yes, I believe you will, you are polite which is something that is clearly lacking in many I have met recently." So regardless of if he is a Vampire or a pirate he's doing pretty well for himself. It's just never a particularly good idea to get on a high sidhe's radar. The fae enjoyed playing with people. The unseelie weren't always gentle about it. But Hook was stepping through the etiquette minefield like a feather footed gymnast. "What shall I call you?"

He found newborns liked to bite first and keep on biting until there was nothing left to bite, actually. He'd always tried to be a little more graceful than that. Survival was not as easy as one would think for creatures that were granted superhuman strength and immortality. He couldn't afford to make a mistake. Killian had to survive long enough to meet his goals. He refused to die for nothing at all.

The raised hand made his jaw knit fleetingly, but unless he saw some hint of magic he wouldn't grant her too much of a reaction. "Jones is fine," he told her with a downright liquid smirk, easy as if he'd been practicing it his entire life. Mostly because he had. He'd been playing at his persona before he'd even been playing at being a vampire, after all. And really, a fae had no right to be judgmental about offering a bit of restraint as far as names were concerned. He was halfway there, wasn't he? "Pardon my saying, darling, you don't seem the type to care much toward manners."

It was always so inconvenient to not be the apex predator. It meant you could always die horribly. But Vampires were pretty high up on the food chain at least.

She didn't miss the tightened jaw before he managed to flash his rakish grin. Her hand settled on his chest, right where his heart would beat if it did that kind of thing. "Mr. Jones." She had asked what she should call him instead of what his name was for a reason. One did not make requests one was not willing to fulfill oneself. "You may call me Ms. Sommerset for now." She offered it back in return and then her smile came again.

"Oh no, manners are important. They keep you alive." Her fingers slid up the collar of that jacket as though smoothing it, three fingers behind the lapel and thumb and pointer along the front. She was fae after all, the rules were important. If you were good at twisting them to your means that was even better. The Fae are definitely the lawyers of the supernatural species.

Her touch was cold, not that he was a great deal warmer. His kind really didn't hold onto much warmth on their own, and he hadn't been anywhere warm all day. Barring some coffee, there'd been naught to keep his temperature particularly normal. It was saying something to be colder than he was. He didn't seem to balk at her proximity. Personal space had never been one of his strongest suits, could he really fault someone else for suffering from the same? He considered feeding into the air, but she seemed like a creature that favored control. There was no point in battling for it, not at the moment.

"Ms. Sommerset it is." He did rack the name through his thoughts for a moment, but it didn't ring up any particular bells. Doubtful she'd give one with strings attached, unless he was meant to be following them. Fae could be a dreadful trial to deal with, all tricks and deception. Much like a pirate, really... "Have to say I've always thought some rules were meant to be broken." He followed the ones he liked and disregarded the ones he didn't. That was true of him, even now, despite the fact he was no longer actively fighting the crown.

It's not so much her hand itself that is cold as it is the air in direct proximity to her hand. It bites like snow on a winter day so it wasn't surprising he could feel it through his shirt and jacket. He didn't step back but other than that initial tightening of the jaw he also didn't complain or try to get her hand away from him. She wasn't a wolf who might give chase if someone ran at the very least.

"Yes, I imagine you aren't nearly as bound to them as my kind." Some fae would be jealous of that freedom. "And which rules do you enjoy breaking the most?" She seemed genuinely curious. Or perhaps it was passing the time while she waited for her goods. Either way he wasn't trying to make a meal of her she might as well enjoy his company. See what made him tick, this Vampire that saved ladies from drunken aggressors. She wondered if she had reacted more like a human, if she would have ended up a meal.

"One is rather hard pressed to find a creature of the night that fancies much in the way of rules." That was one thing he didn't particularly like about his fellow vampires. They were wild, thoughtless, sloppy — the nest was more like a hive of demented creatures that had lived past their sense. Vampires were a powerful race, to be sure, but they were far from invincible. Making messes on the London street, even hiring a man to dispose of the bodies left behind. It all just seemed so empty and useless to him. Why kill a human when you could feed and make them forget?

"The Queen's," he said flippantly, and this was most certainly true. It'd been centuries since the crown had taken away his brother, he still saw fit to punish the royal family any way he could. He didn't care too much for the laws of humans as long as they disagreed with his own personal convictions. He was a man that made his own rules, though he adhered to his own code fairly strictly. "You sure this fellow is coming, darling? If he left it aboard, shouldn't be too hard to get it off... Unless that's the wrong shade of breaking the rules." It made perfect sense for a pirate, though.

"Mmm." She murmured. "Creatures with power enjoy flexing it." Yes, pretty much all the supernatural species fit that bill. Her hand slid off his chest and she looked at him like she was trying to see into his soul. Mab might have commiserated with the Vampires he hated so much in some ways. She was a predator after all. Death was something the fae were fascinated by. But then again she did not like attention drawn to the supernatural. It made things complicated.

"I see, does she still hold so much authority? I was given to understand she was mostly a figurehead."

She paused and looked at the boat rocking quietly. Then up at the street above, lips thinning in disapproval. "It would be ... thoughtless to miss such an appointment." He was being well paid. And if he wanted another job he should get his human butt to the meeting. But humans could be foolish. Her eyes drifted back too Hook. "Are you offering to burgle the ship?" She asked as though considering the option. She didn't care about paying for the item itself but it would certainly serve the man right. He was already almost five minutes late.

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ᴛʜᴇ ᴅaɴɢeʀ ɪs I'ᴍ ᴅaɴɢeʀoᴜs. aɴᴅ I ᴍiɢʜᴛ ᴊusᴛ ᴛeaʀ ʏou aᴘaʀᴛ.

Port of London

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