Killian Jones // Captain Hook (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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sixthiterationlogs2018-02-21 09:27 pm
seekingcrocodile) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2018-02-21 09:27 pm
Entry tags:
Second star to the right [Mingle post]
WHO: Killian Jones
WHERE: 6I inn
WHEN: February 21st
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Mild animal death?
February 17
He's heading for the river to do some fishing when he sees the first flash of red among the dead leaves littering the forest floor. It's an unusual place for such a bright color, especially at this time of year, so he bends over to pick it up. He notices first that it's addressed to him, complete with title: Captain Killian Jones. Then when he turns it over, there's the flame insignia that keeps popping up everywhere, the one that no one has been able to figure out what it means. He knows what it means this time though. It's a message to him from whoever's behind this.
He's heard about these letters, but thankfully hadn't gotten one of his own yet. He's not interested in playing their little game, so he tucks the letter aside and continues to the river. By the time he's got his nets set, curiosity has gotten the best of him, and he pulls the letter back out to read it.
This one's different from the ones he's heard about. This one promises that if he sacrifices another living creature, he will be allowed to return home. And for a moment, he contemplates it. It says living creature – it's not like it says a person. But no, in the end, despite everything that's waiting for him at home, he can't bring himself to do it. Despite what he's heard about the letters, he tears it up and tosses it in the river, letting the current carry it away.
February 18 & 19
The second letter he finds waiting for him in his kitchen when he goes in to make breakfast, as though someone thinks that yesterday he may have failed to notice the first one and they want to be sure he gets this one. Still uninterested in what it directs him to do, he tosses this one in the fireplace without reading it, not even caring to watch it turn into ashes.
The third morning, the letter is next to his pillow when he wakes up. Whoever is leaving them for him is getting more insistent. By this point, when he's had two days to think it over, two nights to dream of home, it's harder to resist what the letter is telling him. He might be more used to worlds like this than ones with modern conveniences, but he really does miss hot showers. And Emma, most of all. If the letter is to be believed, he could see her again. But could he really leave everyone here behind? Maybe the best way he can help them is from the outside, and to do that, he has to be able to leave.
But the desire to see Emma again, that's the real deciding factor. So he has a plan, and he'll be free of the letters and get to see Storybrooke and all of its residents again. When he heads out into the woods, it's not to go fishing. He chooses a likely spot and stands and waits, until at last he catches a flash of movement. It's easier than he expected: just lifting his foot and crushing the snake underneath. All he can do now is hope it's sufficient to meet the requirements of the letter, and wait.
February 21
He's determined this morning. Not that anything can be changed today; he knows better than that. But he also knows the power of working together, and that the only way they'll accomplish anything is if they do.
He picks up a spare piece of wood and writes a message on it with chalk: "Town meeting this afternoon." Then he props it outside the door of the inn and hopes the message gets around.
That afternoon, he picks up the chalk again and starts making notes on the chalkboard. Four columns' worth: scrub color, request, reward offered, reward delivered. Then he fills in the columns with his own information: black, sacrifice, return home, and an emphatic NO. Then he turns to address whoever has gathered so far.
"I apologize for bringing you here from whatever you were doing, and I know we've discussed those letters before. I don't know that we came to any kind of conclusion about them, because I don't know that we can. They may have seemed relatively harmless before, or at least concerned with minor requirements, but they're not anymore."
He holds up an unburned portion of his that he fished out of the ashes before coming here. "This one told me that if I sacrificed another living creature, I would be allowed to go home. This one lied. It wasn't home. It was an illusion that lasted for a day, and then I was aware that I had never left."
He points at the chalkboard behind him. "I don't know what we can do about these letters, but they've shown no sign of stopping. I figure we at least ought to know what we can about them. If you've received one, there's room on the chalkboard to fill out some details about them. It's not much of a start, but it's a start. Maybe we can find a pattern. Maybe there isn't one. But we won't know if we don't keep track. And of course, theories are always welcome, whether you've gotten a letter or not. If you haven't gotten one, consider yourself lucky. And keep an eye out."
That's all he has to say. Stick around and have a conversation if you want. He just wanted everyone to know that the letters are still coming, and that they've upped their ante.
[ooc: I've also got a spreadsheet for this information here. Anyone should be able to edit it.]
WHERE: 6I inn
WHEN: February 21st
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Mild animal death?
February 17
He's heading for the river to do some fishing when he sees the first flash of red among the dead leaves littering the forest floor. It's an unusual place for such a bright color, especially at this time of year, so he bends over to pick it up. He notices first that it's addressed to him, complete with title: Captain Killian Jones. Then when he turns it over, there's the flame insignia that keeps popping up everywhere, the one that no one has been able to figure out what it means. He knows what it means this time though. It's a message to him from whoever's behind this.
He's heard about these letters, but thankfully hadn't gotten one of his own yet. He's not interested in playing their little game, so he tucks the letter aside and continues to the river. By the time he's got his nets set, curiosity has gotten the best of him, and he pulls the letter back out to read it.
This one's different from the ones he's heard about. This one promises that if he sacrifices another living creature, he will be allowed to return home. And for a moment, he contemplates it. It says living creature – it's not like it says a person. But no, in the end, despite everything that's waiting for him at home, he can't bring himself to do it. Despite what he's heard about the letters, he tears it up and tosses it in the river, letting the current carry it away.
February 18 & 19
The second letter he finds waiting for him in his kitchen when he goes in to make breakfast, as though someone thinks that yesterday he may have failed to notice the first one and they want to be sure he gets this one. Still uninterested in what it directs him to do, he tosses this one in the fireplace without reading it, not even caring to watch it turn into ashes.
The third morning, the letter is next to his pillow when he wakes up. Whoever is leaving them for him is getting more insistent. By this point, when he's had two days to think it over, two nights to dream of home, it's harder to resist what the letter is telling him. He might be more used to worlds like this than ones with modern conveniences, but he really does miss hot showers. And Emma, most of all. If the letter is to be believed, he could see her again. But could he really leave everyone here behind? Maybe the best way he can help them is from the outside, and to do that, he has to be able to leave.
But the desire to see Emma again, that's the real deciding factor. So he has a plan, and he'll be free of the letters and get to see Storybrooke and all of its residents again. When he heads out into the woods, it's not to go fishing. He chooses a likely spot and stands and waits, until at last he catches a flash of movement. It's easier than he expected: just lifting his foot and crushing the snake underneath. All he can do now is hope it's sufficient to meet the requirements of the letter, and wait.
February 21
He's determined this morning. Not that anything can be changed today; he knows better than that. But he also knows the power of working together, and that the only way they'll accomplish anything is if they do.
He picks up a spare piece of wood and writes a message on it with chalk: "Town meeting this afternoon." Then he props it outside the door of the inn and hopes the message gets around.
That afternoon, he picks up the chalk again and starts making notes on the chalkboard. Four columns' worth: scrub color, request, reward offered, reward delivered. Then he fills in the columns with his own information: black, sacrifice, return home, and an emphatic NO. Then he turns to address whoever has gathered so far.
"I apologize for bringing you here from whatever you were doing, and I know we've discussed those letters before. I don't know that we came to any kind of conclusion about them, because I don't know that we can. They may have seemed relatively harmless before, or at least concerned with minor requirements, but they're not anymore."
He holds up an unburned portion of his that he fished out of the ashes before coming here. "This one told me that if I sacrificed another living creature, I would be allowed to go home. This one lied. It wasn't home. It was an illusion that lasted for a day, and then I was aware that I had never left."
He points at the chalkboard behind him. "I don't know what we can do about these letters, but they've shown no sign of stopping. I figure we at least ought to know what we can about them. If you've received one, there's room on the chalkboard to fill out some details about them. It's not much of a start, but it's a start. Maybe we can find a pattern. Maybe there isn't one. But we won't know if we don't keep track. And of course, theories are always welcome, whether you've gotten a letter or not. If you haven't gotten one, consider yourself lucky. And keep an eye out."
That's all he has to say. Stick around and have a conversation if you want. He just wanted everyone to know that the letters are still coming, and that they've upped their ante.
[ooc: I've also got a spreadsheet for this information here. Anyone should be able to edit it.]
21 Feb. Natasha Romanoff - OTA
Not to say she's not glad that she came, because this whole mess is clearly escalating. Taking life to have yours returned to you. Even if it obviously didn't work. She's assuming that the life taken was an animal. She's pretty sure no one would call a town meeting to admit they'd killed someone. What happens if it goes to a larger prize, though, and outright murder as the price? She's glad that she came because the data collection is a good idea, and she's interested to see how it gets filled in. Which is why, even though she has nothing to add, she gets up and walks to the chalkboard. She adds another column of information - REQUEST FULFILLED - and writes a "yes" in it for Killian, looking at him with a raised eyebrow to make sure she's not answering on his behalf incorrectly. Then she settles herself near the front, where she can see anyone else who might approach the chalkboard to record their experiences.
Anyone who answers that their reward was not given, even though they fulfilled the request, will see her looking at them intently when they turn around. "Do you think it's because you didn't fulfill their requirement to their satisfaction, or do you think they had no intention of rewarding you in the first place?"
[[OOC: She's talking directly only to a small section of people, but she will stay close to the chalkboard and be possibly creepily observant of everyone, so feel free to have that close scrutiny start a conversation. ...Even if it's just to tell her to stop hovering. XD]]
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"I did what the letter asked. They had no intention of giving me the reward the letter offered."
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