knightsoflegend | open ♔ september castle socialization

Entry tags:

open ♔ september castle socialization

WHO || Everyone! [ota]
WHAT || Shenanigans.
WHERE || Anywhere in the castle, surrounding environs, London, etc!
WHEN || First half of September, any time between the September squiring ceremony and the War announcement on September 18th
HOW || Actionspam

[ The castle can be a happening place, even on more mundane days. This log is for random interactions over the course of the first half of the month. Because not everyone is into parties, ok.

You are encouraged to start your own threads and tag around, and feel free to threadjack into any on-going threads that aren't specified as 'closed' in the subject lines since people can enter into rooms even in the middle of what's going on. WE ARE BIG ON THREAD-JACKING HERE. You can also specify 'single thread', meaning you want only one response for all participants, rather than multi-thread, where a number of different scenes/threads can be done as replies to the top prompt.]

On this log:
Drax @ the desk
Kate Bishop @ the desk
Sam @ the desk
Henry @ the desk
Kate Bishop @ roof/dining hall/library/grounds/bathrooms/desk/Dragon's Hoard/etc
Abigail @ Movie theater / library /firing range / training room
Francesca & Val'drin | closed
Penelope & Sam @ the woods
Emma Frost @ the library
Spike @ rec room
Lydia, Stiles, Astrid, Adam | closed

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[He caught that look (spot 18). It makes his heart beat a little faster and he licks his lips, eyes lingering on her a moment longer after she looks away. There's something between them. That much is hard to deny. Even Henry had seen it, and he hadn't even seen them interact. But she's so hard to get through to. It's a good thing he's determined.

He sips from his beer, looking away. He's pretty willing to let her make the pizza decisions. Past "extra cheese," he's not sure what sounds good.]

[ The waiter bails after taking the order, which leaves them to their awkward silence. Emma takes to sipping at her beer and people-watching, occasionally picking at her napkin. ]

[Hook breaks first. He's had the words on the tip of his tongue all night, and Emma needs to know. He looks up, catching her eye.]

There's something you should know about my squire. His name is Henry. [He pauses, wondering if their conversation about their missing memories stayed with her as sharply as it stayed with him. Does she remember her son's name?] He's from Storybrooke.

[ Wis 11 just isn’t high enough to remember. While the name sounds familiar, she shakes her head. ]

What, was he the baker from Beauty and the Beast or something? [ Get it? Fairytales? Storybrooke? Hook’s not smiling at her joke, she realizes, so her own look of wry amusement evens out into something more somber. It occurs to her, then, that Hook hasn’t been to Storybrooke to know anyone there. Brow furrowing, she sits back in the booth. ]

Quite the coincidence. Does he remember your world before the Curse?

He wasn't born in my world. [He looks up at Emma. Apparently he's going to have to spell it out for her.] He's your son.

[ A will save of 19 helps her keep it together, but she’s visibly staggered by the announcement nonetheless. Deliberately blowing her exhale through pursed lips, she blinks her eyes wide, processing.

Shit.

For reasons she can’t explain, dread fills her. One part of her mind stubbornly insists that she doesn’t have a son—she stopped having a son when she gave him up. When her eyes shut, she can hear his quiet wails in the hospital room.

The hospital room where they’d handcuffed her ankles to the bed. As if she’d run in the middle of labor. As if she needed the reminder of who’d gotten her there in the first place. Her eyes open again, falling on Hook, mirthless. ]

His name’s Henry?

Aye. I thought you should know. [His expression is equally grim. This isn't... bad news. Emma loves her son. He remembers how much she wanted to get back to him in the Enchanted Forest. And more than that, he's seen how capable she is of love, how much she cares about Faye and Lila. He has no doubt that once she gets to know Henry, she'll love him again.

But he also knows that it isn't going to be simple or uncomplicated. She only remembers giving him up, not reuniting with him. And he's guessing the fact that Henry remembers her won't actually simplify anything at all.]

I told him you don't remember him. He's not... he doesn't expect anything.

[ He doesn’t expect anything.

Somehow that expression of disappointment hurts more than if he had expected something. Her beer goes untouched on the table, growing stale. The feeling of falling causes her to brace her hands on the wooden table in front of her, a mild, passive gesture that can’t stop her head from spinning.

What do I do? The question persists on the tip of her tongue, refusing to pour past her lips. Asking would betray some sense of weakness, uncertainty. Emma has gone thirty years as the only person she can rely on to know what to do to. To bandage her wounds and make her decisions and hoist herself up when those decisions go wrong. Reaching out feels impossible.

And yet, not for the first time, she finds her chest aching, and realizes that it’s for Mary Margaret. If she were here, she might have some answer. Guidance. If she were here, Emma would not need to solicit it of anyone; it would be freely offered.

Instead, she feels like she’s drowning, smothered by her own guilt.

He doesn’t expect anything, but Hook does. Hook stares at her now, grim but implicitly expectant. She will do something. She will care for this child, she will be ready this time. All because he knows something that she doesn’t. Knows who she should be and isn’t because the Veil stole that from her. ]

I’ll be right back.

[ She barrels out of the booth without waiting for his reply. Though she has no idea where to find the bathroom, she doesn’t wait to ask anyone. She searches it out instead, and doesn’t stop moving until she’s inside and her back has slammed against the cheap plastic door of the stall and her ears are ringing. She feels hot. Her vision tunnels. Panic blossoms in her chest and she finds herself, not for the first time, completely lost. ]

[Hook shouldn't have done this in public. Going out for pizza was such a nice idea, but it left her nowhere to run. He's a bloody fool.

He also can't let her think she has to deal with this alone.

He barely lets a minute pass before he gets up, running after her. He pushes his way into the bathroom, ignoring the "women's" sign, and says softly:]

Emma? Can I...

[He steps up to the stall and presses his hand against the door, not quite pushing, but there. If she wants him.]

[ When she hears the door swing open, she wipes her eyes instinctively. Feeling Hook lean into the opposite side of the stall door comes shortly after, and she remains silent a moment, dwelling on all the ways that question could end, and they way she knows it does.

Can I help?

What can he do? What can anyone do? She’s the one who made the mistake, thirteen years ago now, to trust Neal, to give their child up because she couldn’t bear to think of his father, or of the thought of him remaining in foster care until she could win that battle.

Can he give her back the memories she lost? Can he tell her the first thing about motherhood? Can he tell her that despite all her fears to the contrary, her son (because he has always been her son) had a good life and she made the right choice? Can he do anything, anything at all, to make her feel ready?

Then, no. He can’t help.

And yet she finds herself turning, leaning the side of her head against the stall, staring down at the lock. Relenting. Waffling. ]

What the hell are you doing?!

[ She puts on incredulity well, a last line of defense. This is the women’s room, after all. The basic logic of it feels like a safe place to defend. ]

[He looks down to where he can see her feet and smiles a little.]

Pirate. I'm well-used to going places I don't belong.

[Usually for far more nefarious purposes than this. He knows how little he can do. He doesn't know all that much about parenting, or how to give advice. There was a boy, once. Hook can't remember why he let the boy on the ship, or what caused it to end so badly, but he remembers the boy. He remembers feeling like he could be a father. He remembers failing at it.

He's not the one Emma can get advice from. He can't fill in the missing bits past what little she told him in Neverland. All he can do is be there. Hold her if she lets him. Have all the faith in the world that she can do this. That she'll be good at it, if she lets herself.]

[ Of course he is. Probably well-used to ignoring personal space, too. Actually definitely that. She’d know. Turning, she rests one palm on the stall beside the door, and uses her other hand to flip the lock and pull the door open, leaning in the entry to the stall. She leans over slightly, shoulders hunched, looking flatly unimpressed. ]

Is that what you think you’re doing by squiring the kid? Helping?

[Hook shrugs one shoulder, leaning a little towards her. He doesn't touch her. Not quite. But he's certainly brushing up against that personal space barrier.]

I didn't know he was yours when I agreed to take him on. But I don't regret it. He's a good lad.

[ She sizes him up, a bit reluctantly, then pulls the stall door open the rest of the way so that she’s not entirely blocking the way with her body. An olive branch, in a way. ]

Thank you.

[ It’s clear that’s hard for her to get out, but she offers him a nod and tucks her hands back into her pockets. ]

For warning me.

[He smiles at her, reaching forward to squeeze her shoulder.]

I know it's not an easy thing to have sprung on you. But you needed to know.

[ An awkward chuckle, more like a breathy smile, slips out of her and she hunches her shoulder, drawing away from the touch in the least defensive manner she can. She doesn’t know how to accept that kind of care and support still. She isn’t used to having it. ]

I know.

[ A beat passes. She nods past him. ]

They’re gonna think we bailed on the tab. We should get back.

Not particularly dastardly to skip out before we eat. [He drops his hand, walking over to get the door. An elderly lady greets him with a disapproving glare and mutters something not quite under her breath about public indecency and them needing a room. Hook just smirks at her and shrugs unapologetically as he lets her pass, then glances back at Emma.]

[ Emma stops as she exits the stall, awkwardly at an impasse with the older lady. Arching her eyebrows, Emma tilts her head at the judgmental look and averts her gaze, eyelashes fluttering as she works very hard not to be peeved at the insinuation. Letting the woman move around her, Emma slips out of the bathroom and leads the way back to their table. Leaving, if she can manage it, the conversation about Henry behind in the bathroom. ]

[Oh, look, the waiter's there holding a pizza and looking extremely perplexed as to where they've gone! Hook slides into his seat and the waiter puts down the pizza and two plates.]

Well, I can already tell it's surpassed my attempts...

[There's no fire.]

Your attempts didn’t exactly set a high bar.

[ She gives the waiter a nod, stepping around him to get into her side of the booth. The waiter bails once they’re settled. ]

True. But I can't really regret it. Had I simply assembled a sandwich, I wouldn't be out here with you.

[He gives her a slim smile and takes a sip of his beer. Then he puts down his mug and pulls a slice on to his plate.]

[ She tilts her head, giving him a put-upon look, clearly calling him out on this not being out exactly. Not like that. But here they are, anyway, and chastising him has never gotten her anywhere. Instead, she pulls two pieces of pizza onto her plate. ]

Well, I couldn’t find anything good on Netflix. Watching you flounder’s probably the closest to quality entertainment I’m likely to get tonight.

[ Which is an outright lie, interestingly enough. Orange is the New Black season 2 just came out and she’s been watching it with Faye and Lila (bluff 15). ]

I don't know what that is. [But he knows she's lying (sense motive 22). He doesn't call her out on it, but he does give her a knowing smirk. That's not why she's here.

He takes a bite of his pizza slice and chews it thoughtfully.]

[ Holding her ground well, Emma doesn’t allow her expression to falter. Her placid expression never quite reaches stoic, but she manages quite well to look unruffled. ]

I don’t wanna know what you’re doing to keep yourself occupied without it.

[ She chuckles through a bite of pizza, shaking her head as she begins to chew. ]

You'll have to show me some time. [Second date maybe? He's forever optimistic.]

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