(no subject)
I...
... no, no, NO. Not again.
*On the captain's desk, a tumble of swords, including his own best black-handled rapier, lie uncleaned and seemingly forgotten. He couldn't have left them there in the salle: Ali's sword had been new, and she wouldn't want to lose another fine weapon so soon. Beside the swords, tiny, bloodstained but still gleaming, lies Ali's signet ring, the one given to her by Sheogorath.
He couldn't leave that lying in the street, either.
Her assailant had been gone when he returned. The trail of blood seemed to suggest the man had crawled away, despite the extensive and crippling mess Ali had made of his stomach. Hook, his head rested on his hand with his black curls hiding his face, takes a long, shuddering breath, one among many.
He might have known, really, he thinks bitterly. Things had been going far too well. He'd been far too...happy. Not right, evidently. Not right. My fault. Everything I touch...
In time, perhaps in one of the hours when he can neither eat, nor sleep, and there is nothing alcoholic left to dull the senses, he will, in a return to his old habit, be turning thoughts of finishing Ali's attacker off for good over and over in his mind. Murderous rage and desire for vengeance are not positive emotions as such: but at least it will keep him occupied...*
((OOC Note: Mun is having a Halloween party this weekend and will be most likely quite unavailable for RP for a few days. It can be safely assumed that when Hook is not moping in his room as above, he will be at Ali's, pacing and fretting and giving support where he can. Apologies to any threads or posts I'm leaving hanging in the interim.))
... no, no, NO. Not again.
*On the captain's desk, a tumble of swords, including his own best black-handled rapier, lie uncleaned and seemingly forgotten. He couldn't have left them there in the salle: Ali's sword had been new, and she wouldn't want to lose another fine weapon so soon. Beside the swords, tiny, bloodstained but still gleaming, lies Ali's signet ring, the one given to her by Sheogorath.
He couldn't leave that lying in the street, either.
Her assailant had been gone when he returned. The trail of blood seemed to suggest the man had crawled away, despite the extensive and crippling mess Ali had made of his stomach. Hook, his head rested on his hand with his black curls hiding his face, takes a long, shuddering breath, one among many.
He might have known, really, he thinks bitterly. Things had been going far too well. He'd been far too...happy. Not right, evidently. Not right. My fault. Everything I touch...
In time, perhaps in one of the hours when he can neither eat, nor sleep, and there is nothing alcoholic left to dull the senses, he will, in a return to his old habit, be turning thoughts of finishing Ali's attacker off for good over and over in his mind. Murderous rage and desire for vengeance are not positive emotions as such: but at least it will keep him occupied...*
((OOC Note: Mun is having a Halloween party this weekend and will be most likely quite unavailable for RP for a few days. It can be safely assumed that when Hook is not moping in his room as above, he will be at Ali's, pacing and fretting and giving support where he can. Apologies to any threads or posts I'm leaving hanging in the interim.))