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ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ ([info]arcane) wrote in [info]hobbs_end,
@ 2015-07-09 21:02:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:ouat: killian jones, rating: pg, ritchieverse: dr john watson

WHO: Hook & Watson
WHERE: Taking a boat across the lake
WHAT: ~EXPLORING~
RATING: Probably mostly safe?
STATUS: Complete



His hollowed heart, a whirlpool of dirt swirling in there, quite ached for the sea but this would do. Killian supposed, at least for now. It was just difficult to fathom anything else, what with how used he was to sharing a ship with crew and cargo alike (or even just himself, a lonesome party of one), and going quite some time never holding eyes for anyone or anything but the sea. Oh, aye, the majestic glory had captured his heart before he'd ever sailed her. So as one could imagine, a lake was an interesting substitute, but alas.

Why not go out there with his best mate Watson to see what they could see? They'd promised they'd do a bit of exploring - Killian remembered, after that drunken billiards night. A wonder he remembered anything at all from that whiskey-laden adventure, but he still had a few marbles rolling around upstairs. Hopefully this exploration today would prove beneficial.

"Did I mention that Swan tried to blast that half-built wall with magic?" he remarked, cleating off the ropes on their small-but-hardy sailboat vessel. There were also oars if the winds didn't favour them, just in case. They'd be alright with the Captain as, well, the Captain. Naval warfare ran in his blood and this was a few notches down from that. "Nothing happened, not even a scratch. We also had no idea why it was even half-built...what the bloody hell's the point of a half-built wall, anyway?"

Another mystery to unravel.

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[info]arcane
2015-07-14 11:43 pm UTC (link)
Technically it was considered bad luck to set sail for a voyage and not have your vessel be christened with a name, but now was as good of a time to decide as any - and Hook really didn't believe in most of those old, seafaring superstitions anyway. Not after he'd had Milah on board, with him, as part of the pirate crew during a time when it was bad luck (again!) for women to be on pirate ships - it was forbidden, in fact, and often why many swarthy scallywags turned to each other for companionship. But Milah made a fine pirate indeed, and she'd not been there just to be entertainment - she was more an equal instead.

Though that aside, he was quite glad a name was settled on now. "Mary," he repeated, mulling it over. "It's simple but it works. Not even Queen Mary, just Mary?" Of course he wanted to know why this particular name as well. "As for the Roger, for one thing, she's made of enchanted wood which could be helpful."

Depending on if he had the heart to hack into his beautiful girl and take a plank off or two - likely not. But if it meant building a magic wardrobe to use to get out of here, well. Maybe. "And for another, I'd just feel better sleeping there. A pirate without his ship is a bit ghastly."

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[info]beltandbraces
2015-07-18 02:10 am UTC (link)
Watson’s belief in the supernatural did not extend to superstitions, and as such he was not in the least bit concerned with their boat’s name. Or lack there of, should Jones disagree on ’Mary’ and leave the boat nameless. If anything were to happen on board- or off board, it would just be a case of bad luck, ill timing, and the like. Not because he and Jones couldn’t decide on a proper name.

“”Simple or not, I’m glad you approve of it.” Queen Mary wasn’t what he had in mind, of course, and at first he was reluctant to answer. Hook hadn't insulted Mary, the real Mary Morstan, and yet... Watson shifted in his seat, swapped his hold on the canesword. “What’s wrong with just ‘Mary’? I picked that name for it’s someone I know, back home.” A beat. “My fiancée.” But was she, really?

Keen on changing the subject, Watson took the first opportunity he got, and that was the unusual but intriguing matter of enchanted shipbuilding. Watson found it hard to believe, just the same as he had with the town’s perimeter wall. He’d have to see it, to believe it. “Enchanted how, Jones? What help could a ship like that bring its captain and crew? I’m curious, honestly.”

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[info]arcane
2015-07-18 02:19 pm UTC (link)
"Ah, your fiancee?" Colour him intrigued! Mary was a good name though, Hook rather liked it. And he was even more curious about the status of Watson's pending nuptials. Mostly because marriage had never really been in the cards for him - he wanted to settle, with Emma, but there was always something getting in the way of that. What with where they lived (a magical hotspot, a flytrap for all things weird and those pesky villains of the week) and her status as the Savior. That was a big roadblock. "Mary it is, then. Just Mary. You must miss her...quite a bit."

But he wouldn't poke and prod about that too much. Speaking of things they couldn't change never did any good, but sometimes it still helped to get it all out there. "I know it'll sound ridiculous, mate, but bear with me - " He slashed the oar through the water, propelling them a bit, the wind catching the sail and ruffling Killian's hair, "But the wood's from enchanted trees which are magical in nature, obviously. They're extinct now, the woods demolished, but before they were used for warding off any curse. A woodcarver made a vessel out of one such tree, a magic wardrobe, and passing through it meant passing through to a different realm, to safety."

Then there was the thing where Geppetto carved himself a son, a puppet who could speak and move, out of enchanted wood, but that was just odd.

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[info]beltandbraces
2015-07-22 05:46 am UTC (link)
“Quite right. I should consider her absence a blessing, for what man wants their wife, future or present, trapped in a place like this?” For as much as he missed Mary, Watson had to assume that his fiancee is in no other place than London. Although Hobb’s End is a quiet town, for the most part, the nature of his arrival and that of the other inhabitants had to be connected, and it had to have happened for a reason. The reason might make little sense, and Watson was expecting that to be the case, but first and foremost without Mary here, she would be safe.

Their boat had sailed some distance by now, and it was about time that Watson lent a hand. The idea did cross his mind, but he certainly didn’t act on it. Hook could steer them on his own easily enough. He looked on as Hook steered with the oar, quite content to just watch; or perhaps this was a test to see how long it would take Hook to ask Watson to do more than supervise?

“Since you’ve worded it that way, I’m not surprised that those magical trees are now extinct. Free for all, weren’t they? No one had a thought to regulate it?” He couldn’t imagine it being successful for long, much like certain substances from his own world. Magic portals built into wardrobes could not really be a first for him, because what about that literature involving rabbit holes and tea parties?

Watson glanced up at the full sail, considering. “Short of owning a magic wardrobe or a writing desk, what options of escape do we have left? The roads should have been the only route, but you don't need me to tell you what happened.”

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[info]arcane
2015-07-22 12:35 pm UTC (link)
"I don't think most would, aye," Killian had to agree - while running into Emma had been fortunate, and settled his twisting and turning stomach a bit, he'd much rather her be back with her family in Storybrooke. Which was just as awful of a place, in his opinion. She was the Savior, quite a big burden to carry - at least here, she didn't have to be. At any rate, he gave Watson the oar with a wink, and shifted on the boat to adjust the sails a bit - the fellow could handle navigating for a moment, while he assessed the condition of the wind and such. They hadn't run into stormy weather yet, but being on a lake, it was expected to be relatively calm. Hopefully.

He was rather anxious to see what was on the other side of this body of water too.

"As far as I know, there wasn't any magical tree regulation. It's a strange land I come from, the Enchanted Forest, I don't even really think of it as home." Then again, what was home? Besides the call of the deep blue sea - truly, that was where he fit best. "But, oh, let's see. Roads, no...we'd just get turned around again, aye? Perhaps there's something we can sail to. Suppose we'll find out today what's out there."

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[info]beltandbraces
2015-07-24 02:32 am UTC (link)
“And if they think differently, that’s their choice. There’s little that can be done about it, if anything at all.” He wasn’t in the habit of correcting others for their choices, be it a genuine mistake or not, but…. there were exceptions. One exception, actually, and brief though the memory was, it was painful to recall. Until now, Watson hadn’t thought that he;d miss his partner’s shortcomings: and it wasn’t Mary he was thinking of.

Though Watson was content to continue supervising, he didn’t protest when Jones handed him the oar, or even comment on it— with no trace of negativity. It was his turn to steer; it was that simple. Watson set down the canesword and took over Jones’ position once the man had moved. Judging by the wind, there’d be enough time for them to actually reach land— do a bit of sightseeing, and return home.

“I suppose that with a name like Enchanted Forest, there would be no regulations. I’d say it’s a shame, but I don’t know all there is about your world. I’m not even sure I truly want to know more.” He just couldn’t help himself; as though there were details of Storybrooke that were better left unknown by the likes of him, but he assumed it was no different to his own world, apart from the business with magic and such.

He dipped the oar into the water at last, glancing back at the main sail for a few seconds. If they had had the opportunity, he’d have chosen a larger boat: one with an engine, at the very least, coal-powered or not. “We should be able to find something valuable, even if it’s just knowing that this side of the lake is the same as the other. It’ll narrow down whatever exits are left to us, but I’d rather know than be forced to make assumptions.”

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[info]arcane
2015-07-25 01:48 pm UTC (link)
If only they had Pegasus feathers, a sail made of them, to use to fly around - but if Watson twitched an eyebrow or two at talk of magic wardrobes, hearing tale of mythological creatures with feathers that could grant flight, well, it may be a bit much. But that did remind him of another point.

"Anyone here who can fly? Or...is there a means to get to the treetops and scout that way?" Killian inquired - with adjustments to the sails, they were being propelled along just fine, thanks to the wind and favorable weather. "Might be another method of sussing out exactly what is what. But narrowing down exits and such is a good plan. Better to have concrete evidence than to make assumptions."

If he was being held prisoner, against his will, he wanted to say he'd tried every venue, every possible way out - not to mention he was stubborn enough to keep trying, until he took his very last gurgle of a dying breath, in fact.

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[info]beltandbraces
2015-07-27 05:26 am UTC (link)
Magic portals hidden inside wardrobes, fashioned out of wood from an enchanted forest— Watson could accept that without too much protest. Winged horses were something else entirely, and were not likely to be acknowledged by someone like him. The same could be said for flight. People weren’t capable of it, no matter how tall a building they climbed, or what gear they were wearing.

Watson looked at Jones as if to say ’is this a joke?’, and tempting though it was, he thought better of it. “Not to my knowledge, no, and by your comment I must assume that flight is well within the realms of possibility in your world. “ He lifted the oar out of the water and stood it on the deck, paddle down, resting half of his own weight against it.

“If you want to climb a tree, don’t let me stop you, though I probably should. I think you’ll have a better sight from up in the bell-tower, in town. Why don’t we try that, instead? Must be safer, surely.”

Watson had next to no desire for going on a hike into the forest, with or without Jones. There would be nothing to see there, apart from wildlife and trees, though wildlife seemed to be few in number… Which didn’t necessarily mean something is wrong with the location, but, it was better to be safe than sorry.

Regardless of whether Watson would go back to his steering duties, the sudden pick-up in wind speed guaranteed that their boat Mary would reach the marshland’s pier, approximately fifteen or so minutes away.

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[info]arcane
2015-07-28 12:14 pm UTC (link)
"Climbing's a bit difficult with one hand, mate, but I manage," Killian smirked, a gleam of his hook when he twisted it, clicking it into its brace securely, to make his point. And he was used to scouting, to climbing up a tall, tall mast for a higher vantage point - hell, he'd climbed a beanstalk with one hand, with few magical bits of assistance. But he'd still avoid scurrying up trees like a monkey if he could help it. "Bell tower's not a bad idea, though..." he mused, rummaging for the boat's anchor. He didn't drop it yet, but they'd need it once they reached the pier which was rapidly approaching.

Aye, good stuff. It had been a successful jaunt on the water so far, which pleased the Captain. "Has anyone been into the forest, anyway?" he wanted to know, because he too was curious about what exactly was lurking in there. Forest expeditions generally weren't his thing, but it was important to cover all areas. The skinned animal corpses didn't bode well, however. "I admit I haven't really made an attempt to reach out to other townsfolk besides yourself, but that ought to change. Rally the people, so to speak."

And here we go! Marshland pier, straight ahead.

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[info]beltandbraces
2015-07-29 06:19 am UTC (link)
“I’d say it’s more than just ‘a bit’, but of course, I don’t really have a say in this.” This being the matter of what Jones was capable of. Prosthetic limbs were not a rarity in Watson’s era, although a steel hook to replace a lost hand was a first, in his experience. It couldn’t be practical. Watson could say a lot about the medical industry and what it offered (and what it was lacking), but he wasn’t going to use Jones as an excuse. Not unless the man was interested, of course.

The bell-tower was definitely a better choice than this, even if Jones hadn’t agreed, and the man wasn’t missing a hand. Watson had no desire to be climbing any tree, much less anything else that didn’t involve stairs. Always the supervisor, he watched his friend search for the anchor, and without needing to be told what to do himself, Watson set down his oar and retrieved his canesword.

“In this particular forest? Not the southern one?” Watson gestured towards the distant trees, though ‘distant’ wasn’t perhaps the right word: and as if they’d just wasted their time sailing to the wrong side of the lake! In truth, reaching the pier was as close as he wanted to be to this side, albeit he could never suggest that they cancel their outdoors adventure and return home for tea- or alcohol, or both. Nevertheless, an interesting idea.

“I haven’t found the time to speak to everyone, if there truly are others to find in the first place. There’s your Miss Swan, and yourself.” Not one to always stand idly by, Watson set down the canesword and swapped it for a coil of spring line. Given the boat’s lack of an engine, amongst other features, docking it did not turn out to be a disaster. Securing the boat parallel to the dock with the aft spring line was necessary, with or without the anchor.

Watson didn’t fancy coming back to the boat and finding it had drifted away- at which point, he’d probably convince Jones to go after it. Forgoing the proper ritual of docking and undocking wasn’t something that Watson was keen on. But it’d be good for a laugh and at Hook's expense, wouldn’t it?

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[info]arcane
2015-07-30 12:05 am UTC (link)
Disembarking from good ol' Mary! It didn't take long, with the efforts of both members of the small, two-man crew, and Hook was quite ready for some investigative exploring. "There's got to be more, isn't there? More than us, and Swan?" he asked rhetorically, checking to make sure he had his weapons in place on his person - sword, knives, charming disarming demeanor. "The town's got this desolate kind of feel to it, but...something's going on. We're here for a reason. I want to keep putting together the pieces as to why."

Because one didn't just wake up in a random place without there being a purpose or whatever, call it a glitch if you will. But it was something. Unless they were all sharing the same fever dream, which was unlikely.

"And besides, if we find more people, they might have more information," he pointed out. "...gods, I'd say the weather is lovely over yonder but I'd be lying." A marshland was so boggy, wasn't it? Blah.

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[info]beltandbraces
2015-07-31 05:41 am UTC (link)
There wasn’t much to look at, out on the pier; if present circumstances were a little different, Watson might have suggested that they turn back. After all, what was there to find in a marshland? Nothing useful, surely? Searching through the town itself should have been their first choice, but then again, investigating a library or a drug store wasn’t all that adventurous. With or without other citizens.

There being no better time than the present, Watson stepped off the boat (and not without the canesword) and headed straight for land. “If there is more than us and Miss Swan, where do you suppose they are? The town isn’t a labyrinth. “ In contrast to, say, London, where its abundance of alleys and short-cuts could turn someone’s day into a nightmare.

The marshland did not immediately begin where pier met land, and that wasn’t all. There were three paths, maybe more, but only two of them were distinct. Watson approached the middle path, but stopped short of stepping onto the brickwork. “We could do with more information, especially for this.” Actually stepping onto any of the paths did not appeal to him, but he couldn't very well turn around and leave. That could be considered rude. Using his canesword, he pointed towards the path in front of him, and then glanced over his shoulder to Jones.

“If adventure is what you’re seeking, then I believe you should be the one to choose the path, Captain.”

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[info]arcane
2015-07-31 11:32 pm UTC (link)
They'd come all this way! Simply turning around and leaving would be silly, and perhaps Killian had infinite amounts of time here with nothing else to do besides toil about and lament his misfortune, but he was still a bit impatient at times. Most of the time. "There's a public notice board, we ought to try to organize a town hall meeting or some such," he said, though he doubted Watson wanted to be social. However, wasn't it a necessity? To do a headcount, see who was here, and what they had to offer?

Now came the choice of paths. There was perhaps something to the saying of choosing the one less traveled by, because it has made all the difference - but that was pretty prose that might not have worth in this world. Out of three, which...?

Oh, this was quite a quandary.

"Left," he decided, for no other reason than left was always the answer, wasn't it? The port side. Well. He'd be sure to mark their path accordingly, anyway, making a mental map. And setting up totem poles. "We'll see what we can find on this adventure."

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[info]the_sentinel
2015-08-06 12:42 pm UTC (link)
There was a loud crack overhead, not unlike a lightning strike, and suddenly the three paths that lay ahead of the would-be adventurers had disappeared: replaced with one path.

The single path might have been ordinary, except that contrary to the other manmade surroundings, the path looked brand new. Plus, it wasn't there before.

Inviting, the flagstones were pristine - no sign of weeds growing between the stones, no mold, no cracks. There were even a lamppost positioned at the start of the path, casting a welcoming halo of light across the area.

Despite this, behind Watson and Hook, the pier had disappeared. The empty lake was all that remained. Temporary or no, the thick fog that was slowly creeping to the edges of the land seemed like another reason to risk taking the new path. There were some distant noises across the darkening lake that reminded one of something big breaking the water's surface.

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[info]beltandbraces
2015-08-07 04:22 am UTC (link)
Watson did not have a habit of starting a project, only to quit right before its completion. The same could be said about outdoor excursions such as the current one, as it were. What purpose was there in making the journey, and cutting it short just before you reached one’s destination? Granted, with how their journey was turning out, all Watson would want is to go back home.

“A meeting should work well, assuming there are other people to read it. I wouldn’t mind doing it myself, if you’re not up to it.” It couldn’t hurt to try, whether or not there were other people in town. Even if the meeting consisted of three or four, it would be better than doing absolutely nothing. Or getting soaked at the pub, again.

When Jones gave his answer, Watson took a step towards the right path, simply because he could and he wanted to see if Jones would protest. “Finders keepers, is that the rules no-“. The sudden, unexpected crack of thunder signaled the end of their trip, and at first it was because thunder often meant rain: if Hook wanted to continue exploring in the rain, he was welcome to, whereas Watson had a different plan.

But a bit of a storm would be the least of their problems, given how their surroundings changed.. almost like magic. Watson couldn’t bring himself to say that this was a hallucination, because there was nothing to explain it. The last time he’d eaten or drank something was quite a few hours ago, and if anything had been altered, it would have taken effect by now.

Standing by what used to be the right path, Watson took a step back from it, and gestured to Hook with his canesword. "...To press on would be a poor decision, Jones. We should..” Turning around, he had every intention of going back to the pier, but the unmistakeable absence of said pier was troubling, to say the least, not to mention the distant sound of breaking water. Without saying anything else, Watson strode past Hook, and as he walked past, he pulled on one of Hook’s sleeves, encouraging the man to follow.

Since the pier was most definitely out of the question, they had few paths left for them to take. The one he chose wasn’t too clear, but it would lead them to the north, where they would find the wooden bridge that connects the Marshlands to the town. It would not be too a long walk, not unless they wanted to take their time and go sight-seeing. Whatever was in the lake wouldn’t change course; the fog would spread, but the state of reality would remain unchanged everywhere else.

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[info]arcane
2015-08-07 12:10 pm UTC (link)
The bloody hell was this?

It was an odd sound, that crack - like the skies opening, thunder caving in, almost a warning for what was to come. But the magic that followed, well, Hook most certainly recognized it as such. He felt the shimmer of heat, a ripple of change in the air - of course he didn't know what kind of magic, but that's what it was. And it did not appear to be something that he could actively take on, stubborn or no, given that the ominous fog rolling in and the sudden disappearance of the pier were both quite foreboding things.

"You...may be right about that," he was forced to admit to the equally stubborn Watson (why else would he tell the Captain to choose a path, and then pick the opposite one! Honestly!), and he didn't need much coaxing. Standing around gaping like a fish wouldn't do them any good, nor would staying. Swan would kill him if he died, that was quite apparent.

So toward the north they would go, heading for the bridge. Traveling back on foot, at least they had decided that a town hall meeting would be beneficial to suss more of this mystery out (and Killian had agreed to Watson setting it up if he wanted, why not?), but as for the now, not much had been discovered besides a clear creepy factor - and what had become of Mary?

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