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

[vampiracy]

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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Comments

[rules_winter]

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.

[vampiracy]

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.

[rules_winter]

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.

[vampiracy]

"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.

[rules_winter]

"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.