Killian Jones // Captain Hook (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
seekingcrocodile) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixthiterationlogs2017-02-14 09:49 pm
seekingcrocodile) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2017-02-14 09:49 pm
Entry tags:
Blow the man down
WHO: Killian Jones
WHERE: The inn
WHEN: February 14th
OPEN TO: Everyone
WARNINGS: None
STATUS: Open
Someone's in a good mood. Which is probably a little strange for this place, but that's just how it is right now. He's got something to look forward to, namely his wedding with Emma (or as much of one as they can manage to put together in this place, at least), and the weather's finally improving, a little at a time, and the whole situation is helped along by the occasional sip from the flask in his pocket. (Although he is rationing as much as he can, since he knows that he has a finite supply of rum to fill it with.)
He got a particularly good haul of fish today, and he's out of the way in a corner somewhere, with a basket of his catch and a bucket that he scrounged up somewhere, to use for catching the insides of the fish as he cleans them out. This (hopefully) avoids a mess all over the floor, and the contents of the bucket can then be used as bait or possibly as animal feed.
As he works, he finds himself setting a rhythm, which then leads to humming, soon followed by singing. That had been the point of these sea shanties, after all, to set the rhythm of a task for the crew. It comes naturally to him now, and the mood and the rum mean that he doesn't care what others might think.
"I'll sing you a song, a good song of the sea
(To me way, hey, blow the man down)
I trust that you'll join in the chorus with me
(Give me some time to blow the man down)"
If only random bits of metal would stop sticking to his hook while he's working.
WHERE: The inn
WHEN: February 14th
OPEN TO: Everyone
WARNINGS: None
STATUS: Open
Someone's in a good mood. Which is probably a little strange for this place, but that's just how it is right now. He's got something to look forward to, namely his wedding with Emma (or as much of one as they can manage to put together in this place, at least), and the weather's finally improving, a little at a time, and the whole situation is helped along by the occasional sip from the flask in his pocket. (Although he is rationing as much as he can, since he knows that he has a finite supply of rum to fill it with.)
He got a particularly good haul of fish today, and he's out of the way in a corner somewhere, with a basket of his catch and a bucket that he scrounged up somewhere, to use for catching the insides of the fish as he cleans them out. This (hopefully) avoids a mess all over the floor, and the contents of the bucket can then be used as bait or possibly as animal feed.
As he works, he finds himself setting a rhythm, which then leads to humming, soon followed by singing. That had been the point of these sea shanties, after all, to set the rhythm of a task for the crew. It comes naturally to him now, and the mood and the rum mean that he doesn't care what others might think.
"I'll sing you a song, a good song of the sea
(To me way, hey, blow the man down)
I trust that you'll join in the chorus with me
(Give me some time to blow the man down)"
If only random bits of metal would stop sticking to his hook while he's working.