ᴡᴇ ᴘɪʟʟᴀɢᴇ, ᴡᴇ (plunder) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2017-02-08 19:32:00 |
|
|||
Gahhh. Did they have whiskey on the houseboat? Kenzi didn’t think so but the cabinets were checked thoroughly like her life depended on it, and when she realized they were bare of anything that’d go well with coffee, then that’s all she ended up having. Straight, virgin coffee. It was practically the hug she needed, anyway - she left Birkhoff’s abode early (her time had been split between the houses pretty fifty-fifty lately, now that an entire bedroom at her beau’s was converted into a massive walk-in closet, whaaaat) which was a miracle in itself because she was the farthest thing from an early bird but them dreams, though. Nifty gadgets were involved but, seriously. What? From being strapped to a chair with the Morrigan’s intentions of torturing her - fat chance, bitch, thanks to Hale’s cool twig that cancelled out harm directed her way - to fleeing with Bruce, Bo being god knows where, and the debut of Massimo (a druid, what the eff?) who was the last person she ever hoped to see in her dreams, ever. Kenzi knew him in this life all too well, and also knew that if she was planning to make deals with him in that life too then she was probably fucked, and not in the good way. There was always a price with Massimo. Becoming ‘fae’ would come with a hefty one, although his solution to what she had requested wasn’t anything about being fae at all. Killian would be driving up soon at any minute with the work that had to be done, the latest case being something overseas with a missing woman, but she nursed her coffee for a second and set it down to pull out what looked like a cosmetic container for lotion. No label, nothing special about it. This was a Massimo original. Two fingers dipped in for a scoop of the cream and she rubbed it in her hands and boy, it tingled - kind of like the way lube did sometimes - but this was the kind tingle that had energy crackle under her skin, and spark. Literally. Of course that meant only one thing: test out the tricks, by drawing things into the air in what was practically some kind of magical glitter that’d dissippate after a couple minutes. Time to have a whole bunch of smiley faces and dicks all around for her Big Brother, because she was the pinnacle of maturity. Tee hee hee. And here Killian drove up in his Mustang - the new one, not Sally I which was his previous relic that had parts regularly falling off (who needed a bumper anyway?) and sadly bit the dust after being sabotaged by Inari - completely unawares to the fuckery his artistic sister was doodling in the air. With sparkles. He parked in the lot at the docks and gathered his folders, his laptop, carrying everything inside and whistling a jaunty tune as leather boots made the brief trek from the car to the houseboat’s front door. Though as soon as he walked in, what the fuck? That was the question. Glittery genitalia, what a delightful sight to meet at the start of your workday. Though he supposed it could be worse. There could be a Kraken swimming in these waters - don’t get any ideas, Orange County. “I didn’t drop acid on the way here, I don’t think,” was his greeting. “The bloody hell is all this?” Raspy, a bit, because he hadn’t had his morning cup of coffee yet, since all he had time to do was make himself presentable, freshen up, kiss the ladies goodbye (Meara was feeling much better after her explosive stomach bug, thank Poseidon’s balls) and be off. Maaaaaan, this was so neat. It was also supposed to hide her ‘human scent’ and have her blend in with the fae, while giving some snazzy powers, but the effects were temporary - and it meant she had to keep a constant supply of it around. Kenzi knew what that meant in store for her ‘relationship’ with Massimo on the other side. Fuck it for now. Sparkly dicks and smileys, everywhere! “Dream thing,” she answered cheerfully, coffee helping her with that, and she drew a nice, big heart in Killian’s direction. And also make sure to poke some eyes in it, and a curve of a smile. It was a happy heart. “Coffee’s made and I’ma need it by the gallons today since we don’t keep much booze in here anymore - but isn’t this cool? I mean, I probably dug my own grave and am getting ready to lie it in in faeland over yonder for this thing, but this will totally keep Meara distracted when I have babysitting duty.” What baby didn’t like sparkly things to look at? C’mon! “Wait, what?” Killian was a bit confused, but alright, he had to admit that the effects were kind of interesting. “Starfish will definitely be entertained,” he agreed, as he set his things down and headed into the kitchen to pour himself a pot of black tar with the intent to gratefully let it slide into his gullet and give him a caffeine boost. Mornings were difficult. He hadn’t consumed whiskey for breakfast in a long time, but that didn’t make being up this fucking early any easier. Alright, it was barely 9:00 but still. That was early. And traffic was also shit. Let him grumble and self-soothe with the dark brew. Holding the mug, he went back and leaned in the kitchen door jam to see Kenzi so enthralled with her dream gift, and he smirked a little. “So, what exactly is it and what’s it got to do with digging your own grave?” he asked. This could not bode well. Boo, the rainbowy glitter drawings were vanishing in thin air - at least the ones she doodled first, anyway. That was one way of unleashing that curious power; she could do sparks too, like fireworks that jolted someone with a burning electricity. The former was a little more fun, though. “My creep-o of an ex showed up in the dreams,” she explained. Kenzi would cut back on the art for now - because coffee, bitches, that’s why. It was as black as the outfits she typically wore. “The one with mommy issues whose bank accounts Birkhoff hacked?” That’s part of the story of how they met, anyway. Gaming online turned into a friendship that turned into helping her get out of a shitty situation and making sure her purse was packed. “He’s a druid for the fae in the dreams, making all kinds of mixtures and potions and ointments. I may have sort of put myself in a lot of debt with him to help me, uh…” Okay, look, she wasn’t proud of herself but she’d been desperate. She was tired of being the pesky human, and then she was also branded a terrorist among that species of supernatural assholes, so. “Make me fae? Or fae-like. His solution was to make me some kind of lubey lotion to hide my human ‘scent’ and give me some fae-like tricks to keep me blended and useful. Hence the rainbow glitter dicks all over the office.” They were beautiful, weren’t they? As long as Birkhoff hacked into that bumhole’s accounts - Killian would be glad to ‘take care’ of any chance the fellow had at showing up, but it sounded like it was under control. He’d focus on making sure Zelena, Cora, or Rumpleforeskin never showed up around these parts instead. “Sharkbait,” he started, somewhat surprised at Kenzi’s admission. He went to the sofa and sat down, his mug on a coaster on the nautical end table. This whole room was rather nautical themed, accentuated by the maritime desk and cartography tools he had - the Jolly Roger’s sextant, antique and elegant, was the crowning glory. “You don’t feel that way here, do you?” He just wanted to make sure. Because the last thing he wanted was for Kenzi to feel like she wasn’t useful - it was a bit different, considering she wasn’t looked at as the dinky human tagging along with the big bad fae, and she also didn’t need Bo to make her feel good about herself either. Not in his opinion. “Nah,” she told him, assuredly, brows pulled together. “I mean - chainsawing the bitch with my face really helped with that. Any retribution was stolen from me over there, and it’s a way different world. Still cray, but it’s not like there’s an overwhelming population of fae trying to eat me, kill me, or use me.” Lauren was the other token human, but she had a ‘spot’ of sorts guaranteed because she was a doctor familiar with fae physiology and all that science-y jazz. Kenzi was that tag along. The loose end. There were times where her ties to organized crime helped out, or her awesome acting skills, but there was still that feeling of helplessness that came with being surrounded by overpowered people. Oh, well. “Anyway, the goods come at a steep price with Massimo. They always do.” A mental note was made to gargle with bleach or something to sterilize her mouth, too - they swapped spit in the dreams, it was gross. That was a tongue she definitely hadn’t missed. “I can enjoy the perks while it lasts? I only have a certain amount of the stuff. If you ever want to try it and feel fabulous, though…” The lotion container was picked up to show it to him. Really, it didn’t look like anything special - probably something seen in the bathroom considering the women he shared a roof with. “Steep price,” Killian repeated, pulling a face. What a plonker - either way, it sounded disgusting and he didn’t want the details. “Well, why not enjoy it, I suppose? Let’s see...” He took the container, and it did seem rather run-of-the-mill to him. Looked like something on Regina’s vanity, and he never paid much attention to what they were unless he needed to pick out a gift or something. Most of them smelled good. Wondering if this one did too, he unscrewed the lid and took a sniff - not bad. It didn’t really smell like anything? “What’s this even made out of?” he wanted to know, and dunked his fingers in to get a little on there. Oooh. It was like pins-and-needles, but much better. Then he drew a few things in the air like he saw Kenzi do. Tits, to match her dicks of course - because they were both mature siblings. Kenzi almost, almost spat her caffeinated life force from a fit of giggles. Maybe she should have told him that the effects do last over a week before needing to reapply to draw pornographic images in air a good stretch. She could just see the exasperated head shake from Gigi in her mind’s eye. “Amazeballs, right? Now your human musk’s all masked too,” she said and joined him in their little fun - this time she drew a jolly roger, which was only fitting. Kinda really did subtract the intimidation symbolism when it was all sparkly rainbow colors, though. Gay Pride Jolly Roger, maybe?? “I can’t wait to see our little starfishy’s face when we show her this though! It’ll totes make her feel better from all the pooping, don’t you think?” Auntie was happy to have missed that diaper massacre saga, though. Last time she projectile shat all over her (expensive) outfit but at least Midna was there, to the rescue! Gay Pride Jolly Roger all the way. Pirates were all for being liberal in that regard - for the most part, anyway. Doing what you wanted with your dick was encouraged as long as it didn’t interfere with your duties on the ship, but actual relationships were a lot more difficult to maintain and were not the norm. Still, as someone who didn’t particularly care what gender his partner was, the Captain quite appreciated the colourful visuals. “Poor sprog,” he said about Meara’s unfortunate tummy troubles. They just did the best they could easing her discomfort while the bug ran its course - keeping her hydrated, monitoring her fever, good hygiene, all those things. “It ought to make her feel better, focusing on the pretty lights instead of her rectal temperature being taken, certainly.” That was something else Killian didn’t necessarily enjoy about Meara being sick - putting a cold thermometer up his daughter’s bum, while she cried because thermometer up her bum. It was awful. He drew a couple more shapes - going for a hook this time, and a pirate with a parrot on his shoulder. For the laughs, because Killian bloody well hated birds. “What does a human smell like to fae anyway?” he inquired. “And, I don’t know...hearing all this, like what you went through to even get the stuff, does your dream self ever want to be more around her own kind, where it’s more balanced?” There was just something about the word rectal that had Kenzi paused in her artistic expressions. It’s like she could almost feel Meara’s anal discomfort by those words alone and fidgeted a bit before plopping her ass onto the edge of the coffee table - she had such a ballerina figure, it wouldn’t collapse under her weight. “I imagine we smell like greasy fast food and armpits,” she shrugged, hugging the coffee mug with her fingers, the handle of it brass knuckles. It was perfect. “And I dunno - sometimes? I mean, it’s family. They’re a little hard to leave behind just because things aren’t always easy.” It wasn’t perfect. They all didn’t always get along, but she liked to think she stuck it through and did her best to help out where she could. “But maybe if I had you over there? I’d ditch it. Those peeps are just all I’ve got there.” There were the street rats she’d grown up with but they all scattered, and the only ones left? Her cousins. There was contact but they were never particularly close - because closeness led to her stepfather, and no thank you. It just seemed like such a shame, Kenzi always feeling beaten down because she didn’t happen to be born with shiny fae powers or whatever the fuck. Killian was naturally protective of her though, and he knew Liam was too - or he would be, if he was actually here. So second-biggest brother would be protective enough for the both of them. “Aye, I understand, I think,” he frowned thoughtfully, leaning back and propping a foot up on the bottom of the coffee table so he could sip his sludge breakfast. “Not like my relationship with Swan is all that healthy, but I still stick around. Her family’s like mine, in a sense. Her father seems to remind me of Liam for some odd reason.” Which was...bloody bizarre, but alright. Charming had virtually zilch in common with the eldest Jones. “Anyway, I merely want the best for you, Sharkbait - there and here.” So of course he’d worry and make sure she was fine, not hiding her trauma, like everyone in Storybrooke seemed to do. It was kinda hard to imagine the two of them together, to be honest - Kenzi was so used to him and Gigi being a thing that the idea of him and Swan Princess was a little...weird? Okay, super weird. Him and his queenie seemed like a better fit anyway, because who else would understand the trials of villainy other than two former-villains? “I have what’s best for me right here, pinky promise,” winked the younger sibling. “And considering your own crapshow with those fairytale peeps, I hope you do here too. Is Em still withholding the lady goods and being overall awkward like she’s a twelve year old on a date??” Not her words. They’d been overheard from Regina before, but still, she trusted the description was accurate. Very accurate. They could have only come from his lovely fiancee, and Killian chuckled. “Well, we’ve moved in together so we’ve...sealed the deal by now,” he said, though he wouldn’t go into detail. He doubted Kenzi wanted to hear (and honestly, she heard enough living at the house where she did - let’s just say he and Regina had a healthy appreciation for each other). “But everytime I try to...see if she’s in the mood? She’s got plenty of excuses. It’s just very strange.” Especially considering what a healthy appetite for the carnal endeavours this Captain had - he liked sex, loved it even, and he felt it was meant to be an important part of a relationship. His relationship. The fact that Emma was, in the dreams, acting like a nervous prude whenever the idea of expressing their ‘True Love’ via bumping and grinding came up, seemed incredibly backward to him. “Not sure why I put up with it,” he frowned a bit. “I’ve always had better chemistry with our favourite Evil Queen.” They humped like bunnies before, rocked her carriage a few times. Now Killian would be lucky to get missionary with the lights off, rarely. Bloody. Kenzi was well aware how healthy their sexual appetite was, thank you - and hey, whatever, right? They were all adults and it’s not like she thought they were playing poker up in their bedroom anyway. She also had dreams where she was roommates with a succubus who literally shook the ground upstairs that the ceiling would be crumbling in all over her cereal in the morning, thanks. At least they were courteous enough to not do that. “I have a hard time seeing you guys anything more than just friends.” His frown was mirrored. Twinsies! “But I only have this life as a context of it - but, like. Regardless of how crazy it can get over there, do you think you’ll be happy? All shacked up in Fairytale Land with Lady Jesus?” Lady Jesus. Killian snorted a laugh, sipping on his coffee. He’d need a refill in a moment here, but generally he felt like his brain was being kickstarted enough to get some real work done this morning. “Honestly, I doubt it’ll happen,” he admitted. “At least not for awhile.” Because it seemed like something was always going wrong - some big bad villain of the week was popping up with a familial grudge, some portal to another dark realm was opened, or there was something Emma refused to trust him with so problems began to stockpile again. As soon as they moved past whatever plagued them previously (had they ever discussed that Dark One thing, by the way?). “What about you, hm? Going to find happiness with the rest of the fae?” Without having to resort to sparkle-hands to make her ‘one of them.’ Kenzi sucked in a breath of air, accompanied with a wince - loaded question there, big bro. “I might have a thing going on with one of them,” she admitted. Things with Hale were complicated, at the very least, and she didn’t mention him too much. He had snubbed her hard when she asked for help about that rash (wouldn’t even let a word in, what a jerkface) and then all of a sudden was so supposedly distraught by her well-being when the Morrigan held her hostage that he slipped a pretty important family heirloom into her pocket for protection. “I don’t even know if it’s going to go anywhere. Outside looking in he’s really more like a dudebro to me? I think dream-me’s more focused on keeping Bo alive than anything. She’s an advocate for the mindset of ‘sisters before misters.’” Hale’s family wasn’t all that fond of humans anyway, and fae-human liaisons were pretty frowned upon as it is - and considering his political position among them, it’d be a total shitstorm waiting to hit the fan. Oh, well. Shrug. “It’ll be interesting to see how it all ends anyway,” she answered after a sip of her cooled coffee. “I’m lucky enough to say that I can’t complain in this world, y’know? Mothra could come storming through the OC but all the things between us will always remain the same. It’s not something I can say for sure in another life.” Oh, well then. "You're involved with someone who is...fae?" Killian just wanted to clarify, because no, he hadn't heard a lot about Kenzi's romantic entanglements in 'the other world.' "Is this the fellow with the chocolate washboard abs?" Sounded rather cracking, if that was the case. He honestly didn't care if whomever she decided to shag was fae, not fae, used magic, was so pale from hunkering down in his den of computers all day he was practically albino, whatever else - as long as she didn't get hurt. Then all bets were off, and big brother would probably kill someone. No probably about it. Family looked out for family - and as they all knew, he was very protective of his. "No matter what though, I do hope you get some kind of happy ending. There's a lot to love about this version of yourself, and to love about me too," the cheeky pirate winked. Hahaha. Oh, yeah. Those abdominals were no joke. “That’s the one,” she snickered, wagging her eyebrows because nom. Maybe a romance with him wouldn’t be so bad if all she had to focus on was that silky slab of Hershey’s chocolate? “And I do love you, Bubba, but admit it, there’s a part of you that’s totes jealous of the abs I might get dibs on too. If only I could take a picture and show you, siiiiigh.” It was time to whip out that laptop, though! Get the day started and all, but the best part of it was she could still engage in these kind of shenanigans and multi-task with work - and this time, with glittery dicks in the air, literally. “All memos to you today will be written in the air in rainbow sparkles, broseph. You ready?” “Totes jealous,” Killian confirmed, with a crooked grin, and no doubt the word totes sounded godawful coming from an Irishman. “Perhaps one day we’ll run into your hunk of chocolate on the street and I’ll finally get to see him.” In their neck of the universe’s cesspool? He really wouldn’t be surprised. But, ah, alright - time to buckle down and do some actual PI work. Well, for the next fifteen minutes, anyway. They could go in spurts, as long as they got the job done. And rest assured they always did. |