Thalia Grace (wasatree) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-08-14 21:10:00 |
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Thalia didn't understand what was going on, but it seemed like everyone on the net had been inflicted by dreams, or visions of past lives or alternate universes of whatever the hell it was. Regardless of what it was or what was causing it, their stories were all distressingly filled with curses and misery. Thalia was almost disappointed that Killian had also been inflicted; she'd always thought of him as being slippery enough to escape even dreams. But she couldn't deny being curious as to what the shady PI could be dreaming about. Unlike most people of Hollywood, Thalia didn't make a habit of being late. In fact, she was almost always early, and she was waiting for Killian when he arrived, a tea latte in front of her. Thalia didn't drink a lot of coffee; she was energetic enough without it. “Hey,” she said, waving when she saw him. “Take a seat. Want anything?” *** Trust and believe, Killian would have loved to avoid the fate known as ‘the dreams.’ Would have saved him the trauma of being kept on Dark One life support against his will, and then dying - a month or so in the Underworld was not exactly his idea of a holiday destination. Oh, certainly, some other shit had happened to him too - but he was meant to survive all that, and survive he did. The Captain was indeed slippery, a scrappy sort - he’d fight through any obstacle thrown at him, and living in Orange County? No shortage of those. So if Thalia wanted to talk about her dreams with a seasoned veteran at all this shite, then why not. Perhaps he could help ease her mind a little. Or perhaps she just wanted ruggedly handsome company, who could blame her? Into the coffee shoppe he went, leather jacket and jeans, a dark sort of figure often found in black and who fit best in shadowy corners; the eyes, the blue of the forget-me-not, were usually what stood out. Maybe the prosthetic hand too. “Hello love,” he greeted with a crooked smile, settling across from her. “Just a regular coffee will do, I think. I like it bitter and hot.” That probably said something about him? Who knew. *** “Watch my latte.” Spoilt Hollywood kid she might be, but Thalia wasn’t above fetching coffee for people, especially ones she liked. And despite Killian’s slippery, shady, not-quite-on-the-level air, Thalia liked him. She wasn’t exactly a girl scout either, and she liked that he didn’t judge her. And while she knew he was an extremely handsome sort, she only appreciated it in the aesthetic sense. He was too old for her, and with their dark and brilliantly blue eyes, they could even pass for siblings. Maybe that was why she had a soft spot for him, too: she’d been looking for hers for a long time now. She returned with his coffee and waited for his acknowledgement that hers was still untampered with before sipping it. Some might call it paranoia; Thalia called it practicality. When one went to as many parties as she did, one got very used to avoiding roofies. “So are you actually sleeping now that you’re not getting those dreams?” Hey, why beat around the bush? They were both busy people. *** How sweet of her! There was a squishy spot or two in the heart of that golden Hollywood girl. Dutifully, Killian watched Thalia’s coffee (latte, sorry) and he’d have surely slit the throat of anyone who touched it, rest assured. “Thank you, my dear. It’s just as you left it,” he promised, nudging it closer to her when she came back with the piping hot dark brew for him. Ah, coffee, life-giving force and fantastical fuel - since he’d severely cut back on the drinking, this was one vice that he’d gladly give into. “Sleeping?” That seemed to be a far-off concept; even before he’d starting dram avalanching, he hadn’t exactly been a solid sleeper. “Occasionally, though shut-eye’s always been illusive,” Killian explained. Granted, he did fare better with rest when Regina was next to him in the bed. “I’m actually sort of waiting for them to start again - they didn’t exactly end on a solid conclusion. But what about you, how far into yours are you?” *** “Not that far, I guess? I'm still a kid in them.” Thalia picked up her latte and took a sip as she mulled over them. She hadn't talked to anyone about them except for Luke and Annabeth, and they were already ahead of her in their dream timeline. She hadn't had a chance to talk to anybody who didn't already know what she was gonna say. “There are these other people, and they're dreaming about the same thing except from their perspective. Does that happen to you? Or is it just you being cursed and stuff?” *** “Ah, right,” Killian nodded. “The other people. It’s happened to me as well - there are about four others experiencing the same dream landscape, I believe? A bit odd, because every person dreams at a different pace so sometimes I’m farthest ahead until someone catches up, or I’m behind.” He wrapped his good hand around the coffee cup, letting the heat seep in, the steam wafting up. When it wasn’t going to scald his tongue, he lifted the drink and took a sip to savour the warmth and how robust the flavour was without cream or sugar mucking it up. Sometimes he did go with cream, but today wasn’t one of those days. “It can be nice because you’ve got people to commiserate with. But then sometimes you want an outside perspective too,” he said. “Some things are also good to be warned about - others you simply need to see for yourself. It’s a balance.” Swan and her mum were pretty far behind as far as he knew; both he and Regina were at the same spot, it seemed. Waiting with bated breath to see what shit would transpire next. *** “I’m told I’m going to get mauled by hellhounds and get turned into a tree,” Thalia said glumly, picking at the lip of her cup. “I could do without seeing it for myself.” It was a blithe response that didn’t at all touch on the worry and anxiety she felt about what was to come. It sounded bad enough just to dream, but what did it mean for her real life? *** Mauled by hellhounds and turned into a tree? That was certainly an odd combination. Perhaps not unbelievable, considering the whole myriad of things that happened to those who dreamed - but still odd. “Unfortunately, there’s not much you can do besides see it for yourself,” Killian pointed out, and how unfortunate he was the bearer of bad news. But unless Thalia moved away? It was coming. “However, I suppose - based on experience - the best thing I can say is to remember that you’ve got a life you’ve chosen to build here. A lot of shit carries over, but you’re going to be alright.” That’s what they did, didn’t they? They always made it through. Another sip of coffee poured down his throat, the warmth of it soothing. “‘m here if you need anything, love,” a promise made, in that Irish brogue. *** “Here’s the thing,” Thalia said, only half hearing what he’d said. “People get things from dreams, right? There’s this girl - she woke up with a tattoo. Luke got a golf club. And some dude turned into Spiderman complete with web. What if I turn into a tree??” Her voice rose on the last few words. That was her main concern, and had been since she’d heard about it. Being mauled by hellhounds sounded bad enough for a girl who’d suffered little more than a fractured wrist when she fell from her bike as a girl. But being turned into a tree? That was pretty final, right there. *** “I suppose I wouldn’t disregard the idea entirely...” After all, Killian had become the Dark One. The curse had transferred to him here, the darkness claimed him - until the only way to purge it was to use Excalibur as a weapon bringing about his death. Would he have asked for that? Not particularly. “If you get turned into a tree, then I doubt you’ll stay that way, Thalia,” he lifted an eyebrow, holding the cup to his lips. Hopefully he could ease her worries a little. There was no sense in living in fear of something that hadn’t happened yet - recognise that it could be a possibility, that was all. “Or someone will figure out a way to change you back - I’ve got magic users coming out of my bum, I’m sure I could find a person who will help.” Of course there was the notion that he wouldn’t know she’d been turned into a tree, so. Contingency plan. “Send me a text at the same time every morning. If you don’t send one, I’ll assume you’ve become a tree and will come find you.” *** It was sweet, his desire to help, and it was effective. Becoming a tree was a lot less scarier if she could get some help in not being a tree. Hopefully she could even be restored without the grievous mauling. “Guess it’ll be good to have that roommate, huh?” Thalia said with a crooked smile. Because that was another contingency plan: Annabeth could find Killian in case he forgot to check his texts. But there was another thing he’d said that got her attention: “You know magic users? Like...real ones?” Outside of dreams, was what she meant, because the dreams still didn't feel real to her. *** Yes, a roommate to call for backup was helpful should one turn into a tree - and gods, how awkward was that? Would the poor girl just become a tree right there in her room? Would she need to be fed and watered? So many questions. “See, there you go, it’ll be alright overall,” he chuckled roughly. “I know plenty of magic users. Real ones, I guess you could say - their powers awakened the more they dreamed. It’s like that with most people, if they do dream of having extra abilities.” And even otherwise too - Killian had picked up a knack for swordfighting, a boost to the ol’ plundering skills, and the general knowledge and know-how of a pirate’s life. All thanks to those nightmares, but still, at least they were somewhat useful. “Why exactly do you turn into a tree though?” he asked, quirking a brow. “Is it some kind of curse?” Perhaps True Love’s Kiss would break it, if that were the case. *** “I don't know,” Thalia admitted. “I kinda got to the tree part and got too freaked out to ask any more. All I know is we were on the run, I stopped to fight hell hounds to buy my friends some time to escape, and end up as a tree.” She supposed the details would come when she got there...but Thalia was hoping she never would. *** Killian knew that Thalia didn’t drink (she was a bit young for it, he supposed, though not like age restrictions had stopped him in the past - besides, he was part Irish, it came with the territory) but he commended her for not spiking her coffee with anything. Well done. “There’s likely context there that we’re both missing, so I’ll try not to falsely theorise about it.” Who could have done it though? Such a mystery. But she seemed like the type to play the hero and fight hellhounds - sometimes that self sacrificing behaviour led to trouble. Tree trouble, apparently. “Well, at the very least, no red flags on your potential flatmate yet - so you should be all set there in a bit,” he sipped from his mug some more, “And you won’t be alone.” *** Thalia hadn't realized how much she needed to hear that until just then. She lived a fairly lonely existence for the most part; fame and intimacy didn't always go together. And while that hadn't really bugged her before, her dreams had shown her what it was like to have friends who had your back, whom you'd die to protect because they wouldn't hesitate to do the same for you. “Thanks,” she said, and left it at that, because she wasn't an overly demonstrative sort. “But enough about me. You promised me a story about being cursed and all sorts of horrible stuff.” *** Being of the ‘not demonstrative’ sort himself, Killian understood. He’d already said plenty of gooey things during the course of this ‘coffee n’talk’ and, well, that was quite enough. Felt like his mangled, charcoal briquette of a heart was going to explode or something. But was talking about his own utterly shitty dreams any better? Debatable. He supposed he did owe Thalia that story, however. “Well - “ He scrubbed his good hand over his jaw, fingers scritching lightly through the black scruff which was the general shade of his rapscallion aura anyway. How he’d apparently been received as a hero over yonder was still a mystery to him. “Displaced fairytale characters is the theme. I’m a certain pirate with a hook for a hand, so you can guess a few things about me, I’m sure. Most might be wrong, but anyway. I as the Captain of the Jolly Roger, with my crew, sailed all over creation for awhile - also with my lover at the time, who was murdered by her former husband when he came looking for her. In retaliation for that, I vowed to kill him. Only he wasn’t so killable - he was saddled with something called the Dark One’s curse. It grants unfathomable power and immortality to those it befalls and it’s quite difficult to remove.” Killian shrugged, continuing. “On my quest for revenge, chasing him, I ended up in the modern world - we hop back and forth to other realms a few times, but the crux of it is that I meet a woman and fall in love. Daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, so I quite know how to pick them. Our relationship is tumultuous at best, and at some point I end up becoming the Dark One myself. I had her kill me to remove the curse and so I spent some time in the Underworld - she came to rescue me, bring me back to the land of the living, and that’s where we’re at now.” There was more to the story but good god, the details did not need to be filled in all in one go. *** It was a good thing Thalia wasn't drinking when he gave the revelation of who he was, because she probably would've choked. As it were, she made a small huffing noise, as if someone had just pounded her back. “Oh my god, you're Captain Hook in your dreams?” Her gaze went to his other hand. “Holy shit, that suddenly explains everything. Wait. Where does Peter Pan come in?” Because you can't have Hook without Pan. *** That smirk flickering across his features again, the kind that said he would simply love to watch the whole world burn, flexed the ‘fingers’ of his prosthetic hand - which appeared to be rather robotic, certainly different than slapping on a hook in a brace. Which technically he could do, he had both at home, but it just didn’t really look good in a public place to wander with a grotesque appendage such as that. “Peter Pan is a sociopath, the self-proclaimed ‘king’ of Neverland, and loves mentally and physically torturing those who visit his island of doom,” Killian explained calmly, getting the last bit of coffee in his cup. “He’s actually an old man who gave up his son for the shot at being eternally adolescent, so there you have it. Not to mention he’s also dead, and currently runs the pawn shoppe in the Underworld.” The one good thing Rumplefucker did was murder his own creepy father by literally stabbing him in the back. And subsequently killing himself in the process, but. Alas. Too bad the world couldn’t see they were better off without either of the Stiltskin fuckers running about. *** “No way. Childhood. Ruined.” Thalia had never gone through the crush-on-Peter-Pan phase, but she’d always preferred him to Hook - who was admittedly a lot less roguishly charming than the man before her. “This is serious broken fairytale, dystopia stuff.” She shook her head, still trying to take it in. “And you said there are other people who dream about the same work? Who are they?” Her gaze turned sly. “That princess?” Nudge nudge wink wink. *** He didn’t quite want to know what Swan was talking about, in the dreams, when it came to the version of Captain Hook that she knew - with the perm and the mustache or something. But being familiar here, Killian just turned his nose up at Disney. Way to get the story completely wrong. It sort of helped that everyone else’s story was completely wrong too - misery loves company, or some such. “Sorry to crush your illusions, love,” he snickered. “But there are about four others, like I said. The princess you are hinting about is indeed here - however, she’s with someone else and I’m godfather of her child she had with that someone else.” It didn’t bother him though, he spoke of it easily - Emma was a friend, nothing more. Their relationship in Storybrooke was a bit weird anyway. Things had turned out better than he could have imagine. “Funnily enough, I became cosy with...I suppose she’s the Evil Queen. But we make quite the villainous duo.” Both here and there - they simply hated each other less here, was all. “There’s also Snow White around, and ah...the son of my first love I mentioned earlier? We weave complicated tapestries in Fairytale Land.” *** Thalia snorted. “Hi, I grew up in Hollywood. It’s nothing compared to the stuff I’ve seen.” And Captain Hook with the Evil Queen? Yeah, she could see it. It made Thalia aware, though, that she didn’t actually know a lot about this guy, whom she’d come to trust so much. It was weird; she generally didn’t trust anybody, but somehow, it was their casual, cagey relationship that made her trust him. He didn’t ask questions, and she liked that about him. She suspected it was the same for him. On the other hand, he was a very interesting guy with a very interesting story. Thalia wouldn’t mind hearing more of it. “Luke’s one of the people who shares my dreams,” she said, because he’d shared so much of his dreams already. *** Ah, yes, the young Luke. Killian knew him as the boy who’d been at the wrong place at the wrong time - and now he was constantly looking over his shoulder, witness to an awful crime. It’d be far easier if the perps were simply just taken care of but that wasn’t up to the Captain. Alas. He’d be ready for whatever was asked of him. “You’ve a soft spot for that fellow, don’t you?” He wasn’t exactly teasing, more like stating the obvious. It was a bit adorable, regardless. “Well, that’s sort of good in a way that he shares your dreamscape. You can be there for each other.” It was always better to have someone to commiserate with, who remembered the same things you did - he didn’t know where he’d be if Regina wasn’t around to laugh at the absurdity of their own dreams with him. *** Thalia made a face at the remark, but didn’t bother to deny it. She did have a soft spot for Luke. He was, after all, her first love, and they’d left things...unfinished. But it was also because of that unfinished business that she wasn’t acting on her feelings. Two years of feeling betrayed and abandoned on both sides didn’t sort itself out right away. “Yeah, well. So far it’s just been awkward.” Like everything else between them. “Nothing more on the guys he saw, huh?” *** “He identified them by way of pictures, so we at least know who they are.” And pictures weren’t hard to come by, not in this day and age - online profiles helped a lot, various social networking sites, image searching via certain engines, or simply just going and collecting a slew of photos in person to have a clear shot and then picking them out that way. The third option was longer but it brought results. “They’re out there, no prison record - so it’s up to him to decide what he wants to do,” Killian said, and he glanced at Thalia pointedly. “Maybe have a word with him, figure something out? So you two don’t have to worry about this while you move past the awkward.” The PI himself wasn’t in any position to offer unsolicited advice - and Luke seemed pretty hesitant about the more seedier solutions. And while Killian understood, he was used to doing that type of dirty work. Scum wiped off the planet wouldn’t be much of a hardship - in fact, it’d probably be considered cleanup. *** “Like what, whether he’d want to stay, or if he wants to go on the run again?” Thalia’s lips twisted. Things might be awkward between them, but she didn’t want to see him go either. She’d missed him when they hadn’t been in touch, and she’d hate to lose him again. She made a frustrated noise and ran her hand down her face. “I dunno, Killian. What can he do?” As jaded as she was, she still wasn’t on Killian’s level of cynicism and...expediency. The thought of taking care of the problem permanently hadn’t even occurred to her. *** Oh, well, shite. Thalia wasn’t really on that murder train of thought either. Killian ought to tread carefully - she was young after all, both her and Luke. He didn’t wish to drag them into the dark side, so to speak, it was more that he just wanted them to be able to build a life here, like how he’d told her before - it would be difficult to do that if they were always looking over their shoulders. “I simply mean - “ He paused, thinking of how to best word it. “A permanent solution, to where those thugs wouldn’t ever have a chance to find Luke again. Sometimes you’ve got to consider the more extreme courses of action and take those risks in order to go on an incline in the future. Sometimes people deserve what they get as well, also keep that in mind.” Because scum was just going to keep infecting their surroundings - may as well wipe out the problem, so it didn’t continue to spread. In his opinion, anyway. A lot of the time, murder wasn’t the answer. But occasionally? It was, sorry to say. Killian cleared his throat, pushing back his chair. “I’ll get us another round? And a plate of pastries or biscuits too. Something sweet might be necessary.” He’d also give her a bit to mull over what he indicated. But he’d meant what he said, he was here for her. His true loyalty was not easily won, but those who had it? They had it always. *** It took her a beat, but Thalia’s eyes widened slightly when the implications of his words registered. As he walked away, she propped her hand on the heel of her palm and considered him. She’d always known he was into shady stuff, but this was dark, even for him. She definitely knew she wasn’t quite ready to go there yet. Still, something was going to have to be done about Luke’s problem, and Thalia wished she could help somehow. She just hoped she wouldn’t actually turn into a tree first. Then she’d pretty much be useless to anybody. |