CAPTAIN GUYLINER (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
capsize) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ataraxionlogs2014-05-30 08:19 pm
capsize) wrote in ataraxionlogs2014-05-30 08:19 pm
Entry tags:
( closed-ish )
CHARACTERS: Hook & Pals
LOCATION: Wherever
WARNINGS: Guyliner
SUMMARY: Random encounters with a pirate throughout the ship wink wink
NOTES: For some pre-planned stuff for the end of May, backdated throughout the last week!
HALLWAYS.
[ You'd think it'd be easy to avoid people when you can hear a pin drop across a room. And occasionally, it works in his favor— sometimes it's footsteps, voices, things to steer clear of. But other times it's the air in the vents, the sound of doors closing, and no matter what it's not under his control.
Hook's rounding a corner of the halls when his hearing spikes on a sound — sharp, metallic, a door slamming or something dropping. His headache spikes with it, hand going to his forehead as if outside pressure will relieve the pain. Which leaves him essentially deaf and blind as he rounds said corner, of course, so anyone else in the corridor had better be quick on their feet to avoid a collision. (p.s. - mind the hook). ]
KITCHENS.
[ As content as he'd be to hole up in his room and avoid everyone else on the ship, he still has to eat. He puts it off as long as he can, ends up in the kitchens at four odd in the morning, and it doesn't occur to Hook that he's unlikely to be the only one with that idea.
He can barely tolerate the processed food in most of the kitchens on a good day; now he's got a headache and even less patience than usual, and even the the fresh foods leftover from the colony hold zero appeal. He's trying to dig the leftover lasagna out of the back of the fridge when he lets out a hiss and yanks his hand back, studying it with a look that's equal parts spiteful and betrayed. Despite feeling cold enough to burn, verging on frostbite, there aren't any marks to show for it.
Instead of trying again, he swings the door shut roughly; there's a rattling as its contents shift, then the sound of something toppling over inside. ]
LOCATION: Wherever
WARNINGS: Guyliner
SUMMARY: Random encounters with a pirate throughout the ship wink wink
NOTES: For some pre-planned stuff for the end of May, backdated throughout the last week!
HALLWAYS.
[ You'd think it'd be easy to avoid people when you can hear a pin drop across a room. And occasionally, it works in his favor— sometimes it's footsteps, voices, things to steer clear of. But other times it's the air in the vents, the sound of doors closing, and no matter what it's not under his control.
Hook's rounding a corner of the halls when his hearing spikes on a sound — sharp, metallic, a door slamming or something dropping. His headache spikes with it, hand going to his forehead as if outside pressure will relieve the pain. Which leaves him essentially deaf and blind as he rounds said corner, of course, so anyone else in the corridor had better be quick on their feet to avoid a collision. (p.s. - mind the hook). ]
KITCHENS.
[ As content as he'd be to hole up in his room and avoid everyone else on the ship, he still has to eat. He puts it off as long as he can, ends up in the kitchens at four odd in the morning, and it doesn't occur to Hook that he's unlikely to be the only one with that idea.
He can barely tolerate the processed food in most of the kitchens on a good day; now he's got a headache and even less patience than usual, and even the the fresh foods leftover from the colony hold zero appeal. He's trying to dig the leftover lasagna out of the back of the fridge when he lets out a hiss and yanks his hand back, studying it with a look that's equal parts spiteful and betrayed. Despite feeling cold enough to burn, verging on frostbite, there aren't any marks to show for it.
Instead of trying again, he swings the door shut roughly; there's a rattling as its contents shift, then the sound of something toppling over inside. ]