ᴡᴇ ᴘɪʟʟᴀɢᴇ, ᴡᴇ (plunder) wrote in crownplazaic, @ 2020-10-06 12:20:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread, killian jones, klaus hargreeves |
WHO: Killian & Klaus
WHAT: Having some dranks
WHERE: Main floor bar
WHEN: Backdated to Killian's arrival
WARNINGS: Nah!
STATUS: Complete
Well, here he was. Trapped in a spooky hotel, happy haunts practically crawling out of the woodwork - Killian couldn’t exactly see them, but he had his own happy haunts as constant presences in his peripherals; the Dark Ones of the past, guiding him, whispering to him, a dark lullaby. One that said - perhaps if he gathered all the correct ingredients, he could whisk the entirety of this hotel away elsewhere, a place more befitting for Dark Ones, for power, to have their freedom. Of course, he lacked certain ingredients for a curse that would ensure transferring realms - the heart of the one you loved the most was a bit difficult to obtain when he didn’t love anyone. Not anymore, and especially not here. But he’d see what happened. First, he had to get the lay of the land - get to know the ‘locals,’ that sort of thing. He’d try to keep it light, despite promising to tell the story of how he became this, despite the inner battle he was waging; Killian knew what it was like to cling to the code he knew (a very distinct, organized set of rules written in Hook's own journals, the ink that scrawled details and tidbits of his adventures at sea). He knew what it was like to cling to what he knew, how he lived, the man he wanted to be (and yet was losing to the Darkness more and more every day) with one bloodied hand. The bar he arrived at wasn’t his kind, he was used to an entirely different sort. You know - occupied by the standard fishermen, marines, dirty sailors. Pirates. Salted and weathered men, people who wanted a place to go to that had cheap drinks and beer after a long day out at sea. Sounds like he’d missed that in Tortuga but he supposed a hotel bar would do for now. So he pulled up a seat and waited for Klaus to arrive, deciding he’d pick a drink when his company got here. * Klaus wasted no time leaving his room after sending his last message to Killian. It was going to be fun hanging out with someone who wasn’t a ghost. Then again he really hadn't seen or spoken to Ben in awhile. He wondered what happened to his brother. He should probably find out what was going on, but after he got to know the new hot looking guy. He made his way to the lounge that has a bar in it. The last time he was in it was when he ran into Dean in it. That guy had problems. But hopefully Killian wasn’t going to be a killjoy. “Hello,” he greeted Killian probably far too happily. “I see you found the place.” He knew the hotel could seem pretty massive at first, so he was glad that the newb found the lounge easily. * “Hello yourself,” Killian replied, similar to his network response - but this time it was out loud, and tinged with a certain coyness. Plus it came with an eye-crinkling grin, a flash of polished shark’s teeth as he faced Klaus to take in the sight of him. Not a bad sight at all, really. He liked a fellow who could work the kohl as well as he could. And to think, they had a whole bar to themselves now - just free to pilfer whatever booze they liked, without having to talk to an actual barkeep. What a delight. “I don’t know about you, but I’ll be having rum,” he decided, sliding off his stool. “And we can get properly drunk. But first you’ve got to tell me about yourself, it’s only fair.” * Not only did Killian look hot in person, but he sounded pretty sexy too. He walked further in and sat down on the stool that was now abandoned. “I will drink whatever you’re pouring,” Klaus told Killian with a smile. He wasn’t picky. He’ll pretty much drink anything. Especially if he wanted to quiet the ghosts. He had been cutting back on the drinking lately. He would completely quit again but there were far too many ghosts to ignore in the hotel and he needed something to help take the edge off. “What do you want to know?” It was fair. He wanted to hear more about Killian, so he knew he would have to share his own story. Or at least some parts of it. It really was only fair. * “Rum it is then,” Killian nodded, and he found a bottle of the good stuff - dark rum that had the sweet taste of a tropical locale, a real delight with the rush that came from the sugar cane juice and the cinnamon-burn of it all. He poured them each a hearty measure with his good hand (and he’d have to remember to fill up his flask with the stuff, for when he wanted something on the go). Then he sat back down, making himself comfortable. “Cheers,” he lifted his glass in a toast before taking a hearty swig - immediately, he felt better, with the slip and slide of alcohol through his veins (likely a psychosomatic effect, but ask him if he cared). “And, oh, let’s see - “ The Captain squinted thoughtfully. “You can start at the beginning - how bad your childhood was, that ought to do it.” Because wasn’t everyone’s godawful? That was why they were here, right? * Klaus was eyeing the bottle as Killian poured their drinks. It was definitely one of the many rums in the hotel that he hadn’t tried. But it also wasn’t the only thing that he had noticed. He wondered what happened to the guy’s hand. Was it part of the story that Klaus wanted hear? Possibly. He’ll ask, but right now it was rum time. He grabbed the glass, said cheers happily back and then took a pretty big swig of the drink. “That obvious?” Were they all that obvious? He wondered. “Alright, well,first off me and my siblings are all adopted. Our dad didn’t bother giving us names, just numbers. Our mom eventually gave us our names. Except Five because he went missing, so he’s still just Five.” He was trying not to say they all had their own powers since he knew some of his siblings didn’t want people to know. Klaus had already pretty much outed himself on the network, so he had no problem telling Killian. “When my dad found out I could see and talk to ghosts, he thought it was an awesome idea to lock me up in a mausoleum. Because that’s how you get a kid to figure out how to use his powers!” All it did was fuck him up, he was the first to admit it. “He treated us all pretty badly, but I’ll let my siblings share their stories if you meet them.” * Oooh, it always came back to the daddy issues, didn’t it? Killian couldn’t help the wince though - since, no, locking a child in a mausoleum when they were plagued by spirits was cruel and not at all helpful. Even he could see that. “Sounds like he was a right dick,” the pirate noted, toasting with his glass again before taking another swig. “My old man was as well. Sold me and my brother into slavery, where we were deckhands on a merchant ship. Eventually my brother found a way for us to leave but it was...complicated.” Brennan pulling that, selling his sons into servitude, and then starting a whole new life with a whole new woman - having a son with her that he had the audacity to call Liam (like some fucking replacement) wasn’t winning him any parenting awards. May he rot in the dregs of the worst place of the Underworld. “We’re better off without them anyway, right?” he flashed a confident grin, sure of that as anything. He was loads better off, for having committed patricide. * Klaus had seen that wince many times when he told people how his dad treated him. It wasn’t anything new. “He really was.” He finished off his own drink as he listened to Killian share about his own shitty father. “Wow. I think your dad won the most horrible dad award.” Who in their right mind would sell off their own kids? That had to be the shittiest thing a parent could do. “Right! Who needs them!” He reached over and grabbed the bottle of rum so he could fill up his glass again and Killian’s too. “So, how did you and your brother get away?” Yeah, he was curious. He just wasn’t sure if Killian would share. * That was also a bit of a twisty story, but Killian didn’t mind sharing. He enjoyed the flavor of toasted sugar, and that ethanol burn of the rum, before setting down his glass and trying to think of the best way to start. “We eventually saved up enough coin to enlist in the Royal Navy,” he said. “Captain Long John Silver was reluctant to let us go, so he did everything he could to prevent that. We were on a mission to retrieve a very expensive jewel the King wanted, but Silver coveted it for himself - he tried to sail the ship into a storm to doom everyone, but we threatened him with a siege if he went through with it, took him hostage, and took over commandeering the crew. Eventually, the ship went through the hurricane anyway, with the thought we could ride it out, but...we didn’t. Everyone perished, save for me and my brother. But we did join the Navy after that.” That was how he remembered it, anyway. It had been so long ago, Christ. How things had changed since then. * Klaus sat there and listed as Killian shared more of his story. Everything Killian was saying could seriously be a movie or something. But it wasn’t. It was this guy’s life. “Wow. Ever thought about selling the rights to your life? Because so far it sounds like a movie.” Wrong thing to say? Maybe. But Klaus didn’t always say the right things. “Did things get better for you and your brother once you joined the Navy?” He kind of had a feeling he knew the answer, but he didn't want to assume. Plus the more he made Killian talk, the less he had to share about himself. * “Can’t say that ever occurred to me,” he chuckled roughly, shifting a little in his seat. “And things got better for a time, my brother took to life in the Navy more than I did - “ Killian just wasn’t meant for good form and order, no matter how much Liam insisted otherwise, even if he did learn some useful things (knot-tying, ancient Greek, how to dance?). But he wasn’t certain if he wanted to go over Liam’s death in intricate detail, so he glossed over it with a, “...I became a pirate at some point, however. Serving a corrupt King was no longer appealing after my brother put trust in him and got killed. Anyway - “ He focused on Klaus, with eyes that glittered cobalt. “Now you’ve got to share something else about yourself. That’s the rule, you know.” * “You’re welcome for putting the idea into your head,” Klaus said with a huge smile on his face. “Do you ever get a break?” It didn’t seem like it. It seemed like it was one thing after another for Killian and it kind of made Klaus feel a bit bad for the guy. No one deserved so much bull shit in their life. He was also not going to push too much especially when it came to Killian’s brother. But he would be all ears if Killian ever wanted to talk about him. “Rules are meant to be broken,” he said with a smirk before taking a swig of his drink. “Okay, before I woke up in the hotel, I was stuck in the 1960’s and I might have started a cult.” He paused for a moment before saying, “Okay, I started a cult.” * That made him laugh for some reason - just the casual way of stating it, well, alright then. Killian sipped on his rum, going slower so he could savor the taste and pretend the locale was something along the lines of a tropical beach rather than trapped in a hotel, on a mysterious island. “Oh? What kind of cult?” he asked curiously. “I’ve never been to the 1960s before.” He wasn’t certain of the exact year, but it was way past that particular decade - at least 2011, 2012 (and it took him a minute to figure out how the Land Without Magic calendar worked anyway), perhaps even later than that. Late enough to have ‘Netflix’ and plenty of mobile phones, those bloody annoying things. * “The kind where you tell people when the world is going to end.” Should he have done that? Probably not. But he wasn’t exactly thinking straight when he did it. Then again, did he really ever think before doing something? Not really. “It was great at first. They were all willing to do stuff with me and for me. But after awhile they all started to become clingy. I tried to end it all, told them I was a fraud, but they took that as meaning something else and started calling themselves frauds too. So, yeaaaaaaaah, no clue if they kept the cult alive since I ended up here before I could see the end result of it all.” He finished off his drink and then poured himself some more. “Maybe you’ll get to see it one day.” * Oooh, interesting. They were getting right sloshed down here in the lobby - and Killian had no complaints. Wouldn’t be long before this bottle of rum was finished off and they had to crack into another but that was also something he wouldn’t complain about. “Clingy people in a cult? Who would have thought?” the Captain smirked, and he was eager to hear more about what the 1960s were like and how his drinking companion even ended up there in the first place. Swapping stories and imbibing alcohol - that was as good of an introduction as any to this madness, he supposed. Cheers. * “Yeah, who would have thought,” he said with a small laugh. It was a lesson learned and something he won’t do again. This, though. He hoped he and Killian would be able to have more conversations while they were stuck in the hotel together. He liked that they could swap stories and not judge one another. It felt kind of nice. |