out of blooms : I think I’m going to pack it up, folks. The internet is getting really shaky and slow where I am, and I keep coughing. I might call it a night for tumblr.
To my new followers, hello and thank you! If any of you would like to rp, feel free to message me and we’ll see what we can do!
Anywho, ask box is open, as always.
He had started to walk away, sure that she would prefer him not to be there when he had heard her voice and he stopped. The last thing he had expected was her to really say anything to him. Especially, given that their past was not the best. Even if it had been short lived, it didn’t end on a good note after all.
Killian turned to face her, the guilt still written all over his face, even if he had tried to hide that emotion he didn’t think he could at the moment. The last thing he had expected was her to apologize to him. How would he have deserved that after what he had done? That much he didn’t really understand but it did make him a little curious about her. And why she would want to apologize.
"That would be enough for most people," he admitted, nobody really asked him why he had done the things he did. It wasn’t about knowing who he was or what he had been through. He was always labeled the villain or the pirate. someone nobody can trust. And it was something he figured he was just going to have to live with. "I don’t need to apologize."
It was as though she could feel the welt he had left on her face that day. She had not forgotten how it had stung even after she awakened. But guilt was there, etched upon his face for what he had done and as clear as the day.
A pirate. She hadn’t met many in her lifetime so far, and knew only what stories told her. Lore spread by tales told by the elderly and the mischievous. Known to be scoundrels and vagabonds, beings with loyalty only to themselves and regard for no one, as she had heard it. This man, standing before her, could not have been like the pirates of those tales of old. If there was any truth in those tales, of course. Though he had first come to her with the intent of killing the Dark One, murder… He displayed some remorse for hurting her. But then, she reminded herself, he wasn’t solely a pirate. He was a man.
"Will you tell me your name?" she asked gently, her eyes seeking his across the distance between them. Petal lips turned upward in a small smile, one which spoke of a cautious welcome. "I am not 'most people'. I am only Belle.”
At first Killian was sure that she was going to run. Everyone did. At least that was what happened most of the time if they appeared to be afraid of him. The stories back in their own land had painted a nasty picture. Even if a couple had held some truth, there were many that had been exaggerated after being told so many times.
However, when she turned enough to see her face he realized why she was running. It wasn’t a story she had likely heard, he had actually hurt her. The guilt was starting to well up in him, knowing what had happened in the past. Even if he had been in a desperate situation, it didn’t change what he had done, and he suddenly became uncomfortable, almost shy and afraid to speak.
Though he had done something to her, he didn’t want her to go just because he was there. Especially, if she was seeking the solace of the sea. “I’m sorry… . I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he managed to get out, though his voice was much softer than it had been before. “You don’t have to go. I. . .. . won’t hurt you… . again,” he whispered, the last word as he turned away from her, half wanting to just leave so that she could be alone and not worry about him there.
A hint of empathy flickered in her eyes, watching as he turned. He did remember her… And, as it seemed, felt remorse for what had happened all those years ago…
The air brought with it some serenity and, in serenity, she found a morsel of strength. Turning fully, she studied his back, his stance. She worried her lip and tilted her head, indecision conflicting her as she weighed the idea of stopping him from leaving, if he so chose to. Belle realized with a swell of curiosity — always this curiosity, confound it — that she did not even know his name. Or who he even was… His story.
"I am sorry, as well." A wayward breeze swept a corner of her cardigan as it passed and she pulled the garment closer to her, folding her arms around her middle in an effort of securing it and, admittedly, herself. "I shouldn’t have tried to run from you. I don’t even know you. Only what I remember… Of when last I saw you.”
out of blooms : -waves at new followers-
Hi, guys. If you guys want to rp, leave a comment or send me an ask and we’ll see if we can’t get a thread going.
Killian had been in Storybrooke long enough to know his way around the place. Though he still much preferred staying at the docks. The sea was always were he felt more at home and he often liked being alone. As there were not always many who were particularly friendly to him.
He was walking down the docks when he saw someone in front of him, not having noticed her before. She immediately turned her back to him. Someone else that feared him it would seem. “Was there something you needed?” he asked, hoping to get their attention and maybe try to get some people to realize that he wasn’t intending to harm anyone anymore.
Her steps slowed, losing momentum at hearing his words. She came to a stop and knelt her head. Apprehension pooled in her gut and Belle wondered, in that moment, what her next move would be. Something tugged at her senses, though, a voice in the back of her head that more often than not led her well enough.
His voice carried no threat, none that she could detect. But then, nor had it then, when he had come to her in their first encounter. Her lips pressed together, pink flesh lightening a shade with the pressure. Turning a hair she looked at him over her shoulder, allowing him a full view of her face. Would he remember her?
"No," came her soft reply, the beat of a dove’s wings in the dense, saline air. "Well, yes," she corrected herself, turning a little more. Averting her eyes she looked down, noticing that she had a fistful of cotton in her hand. Pursing her lips, she released her cardigan and flattened her palm against her abdomen. "Some air, and some time away from… From the rest of them." She had not been back in Storybrooke for long, after all, and though some of the faces looking back at her as she would pass them were familiar, not always were the wearers. Through the corner of her eye she peered at him before lifting her tentative visage to face him again.
Recognition had struck her almost immediately when her eyes fell upon him, strolling along the docks. Gaze locked on him, she felt her breath catch. The last time she had seen him, he had rendered her unconscious with a blow, after attempting to recruit her aid to kill Rumpelstiltskin.
Quickly she looked away, pulling her feet from the water where she had let them dangle. The cool water was no longer as enjoyable as it had been. No, now the need to flee was far more urgent. The need to get away from him, unseen, if she could. Squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head, she knew she would not escape unnoticed.
Standing, she didn’t take the time to put her shoes back on. Instead she turned, keeping her back to him as she made to leave the docks. She tried to remain inconspicuous, but in her pale yellow dress and navy cardigan she didn’t exactly blend in with environment.
A leaf had fallen from the canopy above, grazing her cheek. It was this and only this that pulled her from the reverie which stilled her, rooting her where she stood.
She had been here before. Sherwood forest. Yes, he had dragged her along in his mission to hunt down the man he had been torturing, and all for stealing a wand. And then they had seen that he was no malignant thief, as Belle had tried to tell Rumpelstiltskin, hoping to see the man’s life spared. And it had been. Remnants of a smile pulled upon her lips but she could not bring herself to truly smile. Not now. A year had passed since she left his castle. A year she had been separated from him, but the love had not left. Nor had the pain.
It was instinct, perhaps, that called her attention back to the present, to the forest around her. She straightened, shoulders tensing, for there was the unshakable feeling that she was being watched. Being the fool that she was, and remained to be, she was unarmed. Fingers clenching and curling into a fist, she stood there, waiting to hear anything which may signal to her where the watcher stood.
out of blooms: Andrea-mun, in case you didn’t get the last ask I sent you, we can just discuss our plotting here. I don’t mind. We’ll stick it under cuts.
- ♠:Full name?
- ≈:Mun nickname
- ♫:What’s your gender?
- ☼:How old are you?
- ╪:What country are you from?
- Ω:Show your face!
- ☮:How long have you been rp’ing?
- ♥:What fandoms are you in?
- ♡:Your favourite film, book and television series.
- ♦:Relationship status?
- ♣:Song you’re listening to right now?
- §:Favourite song?
- ∞:Celebrity crush?