Captain Killian Jones, the name sent shivers down the spines of everyone in the magical world. He was the psychopathic serial killer, the most feared pirate captain in all the realms. Well, all the magical realms that could be reached through a portal. Killian knew a lot about portals, it was the only form of magic he would even consider touching. He met and managed to make friends with a giant. Well, he didn't try to kill him, which he would have likely succeeded in doing, and they talked for awhile. By the end of the it, the giant had been convinced to grow his magic beans again. But this time, they were Killian's own private stash. So if you could get to and from the realm with a magic bean, Killian did it. Exploring all the seas in all the realms was a good hobby of his. In between all the murder and mayhem that Killian and his crew caused.
His first trip to the Land Without Magic had been thanks to a curse he got caught up in when the Wicked Witch was in the Enchanted forest from Oz and he had stupidly tried to find out why instead of hauling ass from the magic and going to a new realm. But he was only there for a short time, before everyone came back to the enchanted forest. Killian had the beans and the means necessary to bring everyone back. Snow and Charming just had to agree he was free to set sail when they got back. He could easily leave without them. He hated ninety percent of what he had seen in that world and had no interest in exploring it further. A slight interest in the clothing being the only thing that gave away he liked something. Bringing them back meant something else to Killian, new people for more games. Kings and Queens nonetheless, it was perfect. Really, if they tried to arrest him they'd fail, but it had to be something that sounded good. That way no one would question how it benefited him.
But none of that mattered anymore. He had no beans here now, there were no more portals. He wasn't even sure where here was. A land without magic, maybe? But the people here were different than he had met before. Before, they did believe in magic. Than again, before he had only met people who were from a magical realm. But in truth, it didn't matter. Killian wasn't in the same place. There was the Land Without Magic, and this- the Land that fucking refused to Believe that Magic Exists even though it's right in front of their faces! They were similar in some ways, like they seemed to both be in the same time period for example and had that electricity shit and the same, what did they call it? Technology? The difference was though that magic still reigned throughout this place. It was just pretty an underdeveloped and hidden from most of the world. This place, sucked.
The fact was that the world he was currently in was simply not where he was supposed to be. He hadn't even been quite sure how he got here in the first place. Especially how be got here without his crew. He knew for a fact he hadn't used any gods damn beans- he was waiting for the new crop to be ready. He did remember a lot of fighting, two other ships on the water with him- his unfortunately sat between those two said ships. And his happened to be the only one that didn't have Magic flying from its deck at the others. His men were still fighting valiantly, well as valiantly as a pirate could. They fought hard, more afraid of their captain killing them than of the other two ships if truth be told. Killian Jones was not a gentle pirate. It happened to be why they were attacked like this, by two ships at the same time. He had never expected the other ship captains to snoop so low as to go and get magic to try and defeat him, especially in addition to timing their attacks together.
The fight had seemed never-ending, but despite the odds being stacked against them the Jolly Roger was winning. It wasn't until a spell from both of the other captains came flying at his ship at once and smashed into each other did things change. And fuck how they changed. His ship was torn from that world, was torn from time itself. His crew had been ripped away from him as well and he hadn't a clue what happened to them. All he knew was that his ship landed in the harbor here, ruining more than just one boat with its entrance and impressive size. It hadn't been quite nice on the docks either, most of them taken out by his ship as well. He had been lucky he had been able to still get off his ship without jumping in the water.
Landing smack dab in this world… that was months ago now. Rumor of his mysterious entrance had traveled fast, almost as fast as the rumors about him. Almost. It hadn't taken long for people to figure out not to cross the man. When he first arrived and realized what had happened, if someone had so much as looked at him wrong they ended up with a bullet in their head. He didn't know much, but he knew guns. He knew weapons in general like multiple kinds of guns and anything with a blade. Other things he would put on the list of things he knew and understood right now? Rum and the sea. That was about it.
Cops had shown up of course, and Killian had muttered something about loving nothing more 'than to kill all the bloody sheriff's of this place'. He was arrested that first day, though he had escaped not long after that. For weeks it was like a game of cat and mouse, the only time their game was on pause was when Killian would tire of playing it and go to his ship instead, taking her out on the water. They only tried to catch him out on the water the first time- that was all it took for them to realize there was no way anything they had was about to catch the Jolly Roger, it was too big and too fast.
With how often and easily Killian killed people here, it was a wonder to everyone that more cops weren't dead. The only reason he let almost all of them live though was because he found the game entertaining. He didn't kill them when they got too close to be able to arrest him- because he never stayed locked up for long no matter what they tried- he only killed them when they either pissed him off somehow or they tried killing him first. They stopped trying to kill him pretty quickly. He didn't just take out cops when they did, he took out anyone around them too. It wasn't worth the risk. After seven weeks, most of the cops around found even chasing him not worth the risk anymore. They basically just gave up and gave in to the fact they were never going to get him locked up for good, he escaped too quickly and no one could figure out how. And they had long before learned that they'd be dead before they'd get a chance to kill him. And they had really tried that at one point. He knew guns, and knew them well. Shooting them, and avoiding their bullets when shot at himself.
It was day one of month five, and Killian was just growing more restless by the day. Tonight was particularly bad though. It was night's like tonight he missed his little cat and mouse game with the cops. Being on the sea wasn't settling his soul and he was really fucking bored. The dangerous pirate had somehow still easily been able to seduce men and women when he felt like it, the danger could work in his favour. He found long ago that men and women alike were drawn to the danger, weather it be for sex or to join his crew had been no matter, he always found someone that wanted him in some way wherever they made port. People being attracted to the danger had not changed, only now it was always for sex- joining in on killing with him wasn't something people wanted to do here and he was fine with that. He didn't want a crew here. He wanted a crew there. He wanted his crew there. He wanted to be there. But tonight… Even getting laid didn't seem like a good enough distraction.
Whenever he came back from a sail here, he always brought his ship back to the same place that he had landed. He didn't much feel like exploring this time, he only went out on the sea here to be out there. He grew up on the water, it was a part of him. Besides, pirating wasn't exactly a career option here so what was the point of exploring over just sailing? But something that came as a but of a surprise to him, killing people was a career option here. A fact which he had found more than entertaining when he found out.
Most people still called him the pirate, despite him technically being a contract killer here and not a pirate. But then again, once a pirate, always a pirate. He had money here now, he found a place to stay. A little house by the sea, about a twenty minute walk from his ship. He had bought it outright. He did find things in this time useful, like the electricity for example, but it didn't make him miss home any less. Despite his house with the big bed that was actually more comfortable than anything he had laid on before- he still preferred to crash on his ship some nights. Night's where he went to the pub that was only a three minute walk from his ship.
That's what he was considering now, pushing open the door to now usual haunt, where the bartender would catch sight of the man in the leather jacket before he reached the bar and had his glass of rum ready for him when he sat down and Killian would throw the little plastic card at him. It was a bloody ridiculous thing to keep money on or inside… he wasn't sure how it actually worked, but it was actually rather convenient. Part of him missed hearing gold coins clattering together at his hip, but this was still more convenient. The first person that had hired him to kill had actually taught him a little about banks and how money worked here and about that little plastic card. She had wanted her husband dead. She had also wanted him- but that didn't happen. He wasn't going to mix business with pleasure. Plus, he found he didn't mind her company, nor she his. And if he slept with her he wouldn't ever want to see her again.
Her name was Hannah and she was how he had finally started to learn about this time and how things worked here. He would refuse to ask her any questions, but she always seemed to answer the ones he didn't ask after telling her something that happened during the days he hadn't seen her. It was Hannah that helped him find his house, talked him into shopping for clothes from around here, and got him to get a cell phone for no other reason than for people who wanted to hire him to get ahold of him. He hated the little talking device. He hadn't seen Hannah in a week now, so showing up at her house wouldn't have been too out of the ordinary.
But even hanging out with the first person he could actually stand here didn't sound appealing. Fucking nothing did. He sighed in irritation, scratching at the dark denim covering his legs. He did have to admit to liking the clothes here. He loves his leather, which was pretty much every single item he owned before, but these were comfortable and a lot easier to move in. He only had a white t-shirt on under his leather jacket that he had owned for absolute ages now. His pirates luck hung around his neck still, the skull and sword easily visible against the white fabric on his chest. He was sure it was the only reason the cops had not been to actually kill him. It protected him on the sea back home, and it protected him from cops here.
Ultimately, Killian ended up deciding to spend his night drinking himself into some sort of stupor at SeaSalt. SeaSalt had been a nice, fairly large, popular pub before Killian started coming here- even the pirate would admit that- and it had only grew in popularity over the last few months of it becoming the pirates regular spot. Despite all the danger that surrounded him, people still came. More people. They were fascinated by the psychopathic pirate, and if you wanted to observe him this was the safest place to do so. He had some sort of understanding with the owner/bartender Misha that he would not kill anyone while he was in the pub. Though once you stepped outside all bets were off. People still didn't actually approach him while he was here, in fact the bar itself where he sat was always empty when he was. People would only come up to order drinks before they scurried back to their table and friends, maybe having stolen a few glances at Killian while they were that close if they were brave.
And why wouldn't they want too? A picture flashing across a television screen with the words ARMED AND DANGEROUS in bold writing on the bottom didn't really do him justice. Killian was fucking gorgeous. His burning blue eyes could leave people breathless, and the way his dark hair just messed so naturally on his head being just long enough to reach his eyes without hiding them added to his sex appeal. He usually had some scruff on his face, making him look like he just didn't care- which he really didn't- all of it together just made him sexier to look at. Than add the air of danger that constantly surrounded him? That just pushed him over the edge. It was like he was handcrafted by gods to be a sex symbol.
When he first started coming to SeaSalt, every single time he walked in the entire mood and air of the pub would change. Not so much anymore, which he did honestly like better. It was now more relaxed in the place like it was back home when he was with his crew in a pub. But he would never tire of the way people would move from their seats at the bar when they saw him to find somewhere else to hang out and let Killian alone. It made him feel feared and powerful here like he felt back home all the time. He smirked a little to himself when he heard a little redheaded lady squeak as he walked past her at the bar before she scurried away with her friends and he took his usual spot towards the end of the bar- tossing his card at Misha as his drink was set down. Maybe the drinks were his favourite thing about this place. There were so many different kinds of rum here, and some of them were really fucking good. Better than what he could get back home. Stronger even.
"You look unsettled tonight, Jones," Misha commented to the pirate, not really expecting him to answer back. Misha may have a little pull with Killian while he was here, but that didn't make them friends by any means so Killian didn't always answer him.
"I'm fine, mate," He actually responded, downing the drink in front of him in seconds, "Keep 'em comin' tonight, wont ya?" It wouldn't be the first time that Killian had drank himself into a stupor in the pub, and likely wouldn't be the last, but he had never been so direct about his intentions before.
He didn't say anything else for a long while, he barely looked up from the bar at all. People came and ordered, people watched him, he didn't care. People left the building and lots of new ones came in and Killian seemed oblivious to anything going on around him at all even though the place had become quite packed.
"The bars so empty, that's weird. Maybe we should just find a table?"
"Just sit down, Swan. It really doesn't fucking matter."
"I guess. Maybe people will sit here now that more are? Like one of those avoiding something because the crowd is thing, yanno?"
"No, not really. And more so, I don't actually care. I just want a drink." The second voice sounded slightly annoyed, a fact Killian only noticed because the pair had gotten louder as they grew closer to him. Were these girls actually idiots? Were they seriously going to sit down here? Killian's hand curled around the glass he was holding in his hand as the air shifted around him letting him know of the arrival of someone fairly close.
He glared as he looked over, only two seats away from him sat two blonds. What the fuck was that little bitch thinking, not listening to her friend and finding a table?
