Captain Killian Jones (
unhand) wrote in
knightsoflegend2013-02-28 08:15 pm
Entry tags:
the coldness runs through my veins you know my name || OPEN

WHO || Hook and WHOEVER'S HANGING AROUND THE CASTLE
WHAT || Playing with guns
WHERE || Shooting range
WHEN || 2/28 daytime
HOW || WHATEVER FLOATS YOUR BOAT.♬ Chris Cornell - You Know my Name
Hook still was getting used to this new world. He hadn't given up his usual black leather apparel, and he hadn't gone for some sort of new fake hand that may have been more functional or at least more normal looking than the hook.
What he had gotten used to was guns.
The Excalibur Pistol was simple enough to use, and amazingly powerful for such a little thing. Hook had decided pretty quickly that he liked it.
He leveled it at the target and shot. It clipped the edge of the target (atk 9). He frowned, readjusting the pistol. As simple a thing as it was, it seemed it would actually need some work for him to get actually good at using it. No matter, he had time to spare. He readjusted his gun and shot again (atk 11). It hit the target. Outer edge, but not bad for a man from a world where these things don't exist.
He held up the gun again, aiming carefully. Unbidden, he thought of Gold, the man Emma said he wanted to kill.
He pulled the trigger. The bullet sank into the dead center of the target (atk 23).
Well, now. Maybe he could get the hang of this thing after all.

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Genuine offense entered her retort, because it wasn't even a matter of jealousy at this point. It was honest-to-God bafflement that he wasn't seeing the real root of the issue here, because he wanted so badly to believe it did have something to do with jealousy.
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He'd made the wrong move at the party. He wasn't certain how he thought things would play out, if he thought Emma would get jealous and prove she wanted him, or more likely, he hadn't thought much at all past pretty girl. Whatever it was, he was pretty sure it hadn't been worth it.
"I don't know what you expect of me."
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"Right now, I mostly expect you to walk away."
She kept her voice even, but she couldn't stop herself from looking at him. She didn't want to see the look in his eyes. Didn't want to dare touching the vulnerability because it'd only bring her closer to him and lessen her resolve. It had been hard enough leaving him up there, but it'd been the right call. She had to believe that.
Except she couldn't avoid that closeness entirely, because her words had an added meaning she hadn't meant to slip through. That was the whole problem. He was too much like Neal, too stark a reminder. And she just kept expecting he'd turn around and walk away one day, too. That expectation continued to hold her back.
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He turned slightly, aiming his gun at her target while still standing far too close to her. He squeezed the trigger. It was a good shot (atk 18), thudding hard into the target near the center. Then he looked back at her.
"Besides, I was here first."
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"Looks to me like you don't need a teacher." It was a non-sequitur, but she wasn't going to bother with his closeness and his bedroom voice or addressing anything he'd said in it. It all meant letting him set the terms for the conversation, which Emma had no intention of doing. She surveyed him, eyes raking over his body, then she grabbed her gun and stuffed it into a holster at her hip.
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"You're changing the subject." And apparently running away, if her holstering her gun meant anything.
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