#Capitán Shears

[ivangzama]

🇺🇸📰🐴🏇BloodHorse @BloodHorse En el jueves #BHDaily : Forever Young salta para liderar en Japón camino al KY Derby El senador de Kentucky Thayer no buscará la reelección El capitán retirado de Santa Anita Paddock Shear muere a los 102 años LEER MÁS →

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[i-must-be-complete]

Día 14.

Cuando escapó de las instalaciones militares cornerianas construidas en ese planeta desértico, lo que menos se esperó fue que sería apresado por una multitud de titanians enfurecidos después de una noche pagando posada. Era bien sabido por todos los lylatianos viajeros del espacio, que dentro del top de planetas más peligrosos del sistema, Titania se encontraba entre los primeros tres lugares debido a la concentración de rencores alimentados por sus habitantes con el pasar de los años. Pero Shears había logrado pasar desapercibido desde que fue asignado como capitán de la base y paseó en los terrosos pueblos cercanos con la destreza y astucia que le personificaba, por ello no se explicó cómo fue que -a pesar de todas las medidas tomadas a lo largo del día- había sido encontrado tan pronto.

Temió por su vida en cuanto no tuvo oportunidad de correr; continuar escondiéndose entre los diversos locales nocturnos y puestos ambulantes que adornaban el vecindario, cubiertos por pesadas mantas grisáceas. Desde que llegó y tuvo contacto con ellos, se enteró de los espeluznantes castigos que los propios campesinos realizaban contra los desafortunados que lograban perturbar la tambaleante paz social. Así que saberse a merced de sus leyes radicales le llenaba de horror.

Los gritos en su idioma titanian jamás cesaron mientras lo arrastraban hacia la zona donde se celebraría su ejecución, consiguiendo entender de entre tantos insultos la razón de su descontento: lo querían muerto por haber servido al simio que les falló en la guerra y porque se trataba de un sucio corneriano mancillando sus tierras. Shears se quiso burlar, mostrarles su desdén por sus motivaciones tan encapsuladas pero era consciente que era lo menos inteligente que podría hacer en un momento así.

—Provenimos del mismo averno, imbéciles —gruñó para si mismo en respuesta a tal odio, sin darse cuenta de lo cerca que estuvo de ser sujeto en su tumba.

Los titanians que lo transportaron todo el trecho aseguraron sin dificultad sus extremidades, después de todo acostumbrados a la práctica. El can bufó al notar dónde se encontraba, considerando irónica la situación, pues pareciera que acabara de blasfemar contra su religión dominante y ahora estuviera siendo acusado por brujería. Sin embargo, la calma terminó en el instante que fue bañado de un liquido fabricado en ese mismo mundo, famoso por su potencia de combustión, el cual le obligaron tragar con la idea de no quedaran más que cenizas para avalar su presencia en el universo.

Los fósforos se encendieron y las fogatas a sus pies comenzaron arder, el humo le hizo toser inevitablemente hasta que por fin las llamas alcanzaron su empapado pelaje, que sin tardar recorrió todo su cuerpo. El calor era insoportable, el corneriano se retorció por instinto entre gritos inquietantes ante la sensación constante masticando su piel sin compasión, quemándolo como una antorcha en medio de la oscuridad, sólo que en esos momentos parecía brindar tributo al bello atardecer que se pintaba a sus espaldas.

Mientras tanto la muchedumbre entonaba alegres cantos a su nación.

[bythehook]

Part Three: Repercussions

In the deepest parts of the Black Forest, where even spiders dare not tread, sat an ancient stone dwelling. Its thatched roof was worn, but sturdy, and a pipe chimney puffed smoke out into the Neverland. This house had no windows, and no sound could be heard from within or without its walls. The door was a decorative piece of magic, whose enchantment made the building invisible to anyone who passed. 

Should you stumble upon it, you would merely feel a bitter cold. Birds don’t sing in its eaves or surrounding trees; animals steer clear of it. And the only way in or out, is if the sole inhabitant allows it. Many have attempted to find where Helena lives, but the whispers of magic push them away. Depend on her mood, explorers may spend weeks lost in the wood, traveling the same, circular path. Armies could not get through this witchy stronghold.

No one could get out, either.

                                                       -----------------

James brought a wooden plate of fruit, cheese, and bread to Helena who was lying in bed, her cloak wrapped around her loosely. The night they had spent together had been one of the most electric, carnally charged experiences he had ever had. And since it had passed, he had spent every day desperate for more.

Hook set the platter down and sat beside Helena, kicking his legs up and crossing his arms over his stomach, watching her lovingly as she brought a blackberry to her lips. James sighed contentedly and looked down at his right hand, once again transfixed at its presence.

The pair sat in silence, the captain looking back to her with a deep respect and longing in his gaze. Oh what he wouldn’t do for another glorious night in her sheets. He tipped his head back against the stone wall and sighed, tripping over his words in his mind, trying to figure out how to ask if they could go to bed again. Before the first word left his lips, Helena hopped nimbly to her feet and walked over to the single table in the room. 

“Wine, dear capitán?” she called, uncorking the wine bottle.

“God yes, I’m parched,” he said, sitting up and swinging his legs around the side of the bed. 

The deep purple wine was brought to James’ lips for him, and he took the cup happily, smiling up at Helena in adoration.

How had he spent so much of his life chasing after the demon Peter, when this angel was on the island the whole time? Nothing seemed to matter anymore; Pan, the ship, his past. Only Helena mattered.

James drank long and hard until every last drop was gone. He looked up at her, greedy for more of the sweet nectar. 

Were there a mirror in the home he’d grown to love, he would see his forget-me-not blue eyes had turned a deep shade of violet. He brightened with the glass of wine, and with it, his undying loyalty to the witch. 

“I have to go out,” Helena told him, smoothing back his rust-colored hair. It had grown since he’d first come. How, he did not know, as it had only seemed a couple of days since his arrival. The locks he normally kept sheared short had grown to hang around his shoulders. 

“Do you?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her tenderly, pressing a kiss to the center of her chest. The necklaces she wore dug into his lips as he moved along, one hand lifting her skirt. But as always, she stopped him. Helena rested her hands on his shoulders gently. 

“Yes, dear one. And soon you will have to go as well.”

“Go? Go where?” He looked up at her, a pang of fear gripping his heart. 

“You must go where all men go eventually,” she commented darkly, running her sharp nails through his hair. The words did not scare him, only the fear of her leaving him. He wrapped his arms around her tighter, resting the side of his face against her chest. 

“I’ll not leave you,” he stated firmly, as though he had a chance at defying her. If she told him to jump off Glass Peak he’d do it, only to please her. 

“It has been fun having you in my little den of hedonism. But everything has its time, Hook.” She told him, stroking his hair affectionately. “Or rather, time has everything. Tick-tock goes the clock and the world spins on, ever growing, ever expanding, ever dying, ever birthing. And if time were to stop,” her hand froze in his hair, eyes fixed somewhere far away. “So would all of we. And time on Neverland has been fixed for so long. The same story chasing its tail around the tide, always the flying boy and the pirate captain. The heathens that broke time, that broke the mother island.” 

Hook was not listening to her words, but hungrily planting kisses up the middle of her clothed breast, fingers clutching into the fabric with unrestrained desire.

“It has to end. All of it, everything. So that it can begin. And we will be so happy again, mother, just the two of us and all of the glories of the island,” Helena spoke quietly before quickly looking over her shoulder, a frown on her face. “No, I understand what you think, but I am the protector. I will not let these savages molest your shores and pervert your purpose.” Helena's ears pinkened, hearing the other half of a silent conversation while Hook tried desperately to pull her onto him once more. She clutched a fistful of James’ hair and pulled his head back from her skin, causing him to look up at her. His eyes were sleepy, dark rimmed but full of wanton desire for her body. “Should I kill you first?” She asked darkly, and not even the faintest shiver of fear ran through him.

“Do you want to?” Hook asked, running his hands down her backside, holding her bum and pushing her body toward him again. 

“Do I want--” She gave a huff of frustrated laughter and pulled away from him, shoving his head away from her as she went. “I liked you better when you were unmuddled,” she stated, picking up a black satin bag, and rifled through it. “Here, you lovesick pup,” she said, tossing him a small chocolate. “Eat this.” 

James grinned at her, willing to do whatever it was she wanted, and took a bite out of the sweet. He stared as he chewed, smile ever slowly fading from his lips. The purple fog in his eyes melted away just as slow, and he jolted back against the stone wall, falling to the floor. 

“You bitch,” he gripped the sides of his head, squeezing his eyes shut as everything that had transpired over the last five months came flooding back to him. 

Helena stood before him, stomach swelled proportionate to the time he had spent locked in this house, and smiled. 

“You said one night,” he barked through gritted teeth, snatching his boots off the floor and pulling them on as his head ached with the rush of memories. 

“I tried to send you away, but you insisted on staying,” she smirked, and held up the bottle of wine. “Care for a glass of wine, capitán?” Helena asked maddeningly. 

“You poisoned me!” He raged, eyes fixating on her belly.

“Of course I poisoned you, you idiot,” Helena fired back, rolling her eyes before dropping her cloak onto the bed, and shaking her long locks over her shoulders. “You were just so fun to have around, jumping around for me like a trained capuchin,” she grinned unashamedly. 

“Wait,” Hook winced, ignoring her attempts at winding him up, and tried to focus on what she was just saying. “What do you mean it all has to end?”

The witch brightened immediately, holding onto her belly protectively, and crossed to an inlaid cupboard in the wall. 

“Oh, I do love when men listen,” she chirped, opening the cupboard and tucking the satin bag in beside something. Whatever was in there was causing a faint glowing, and James thought something familiar sounded, like a tinkle of bells. “You are all going to fade away, James Hook. You, the lost boys, the merfolk, the Indians hiding in the caves. All of my mother island’s invaders, gone. Because now I have the final piece, thanks to you,” she simpered, looking lovingly down at the bump. 

“What do you have in there?” Hook asked, stepping forward, wanting to glean as much information as he could. “The final piece for what?” 

Helena kicked the door back with her elbow, concealing the frantically jingling bells. 

“You’ll see,” she grinned, waving her fingers in goodbye. “Goodbye, James.”

“Don’t you dare--” he stepped forward, about to grab her arm, but instead his step fell heavy on the wooden floor of his cabin on the Roger. 

A cold anger rushed through his body, and he pulled the bedchamber door open abruptly. Starkey, who had been sitting behind the captain’s desk, booted feet up on the table startled so quickly that he fell out of the chair. 

“C-captain?” Jack stood immediately, trembling at James’ sudden appearance, looking very much like one seeing a ghost. “We thought--”

“Get me Smee.”

[i-must-be-complete]

Headcanon Time.

Personajes en general.

Andross: 

Tiene una fijación profunda hacia la música clásica.

Aprendió a tocar piano desde la preparatoria.

Cuando Andrew nació (y cuando quedó a su cargo) solía tocar para él cuando no podía dormir.

General Pepper:

Prefiere los caramelos antes que los cigarrillos para reducir el estrés.

Siempre que debe tomar una decisión importante se prepara un baso con leche caliente y la bebe en la privacidad de su recamara.

Desde que tiene uso de razón ha sido fanático de los cómics.

Pigma Dengar:

No importa el lugar o reservación, es el tipo de individuo que dormirá desnudo, muchos de sus compañeros se han quejado por eso.

A pesar de las calumnias, se baña diario.

Jamas hace cumplidos pero cuando quiere felicitar a alguien lo hace en forma de bromas desconsideradas.

Peppy Hare:

Difiriendo con su personalidad reservada, logran hacerlo reír a carcajadas los chistes picaros, aunque tampoco siente aversión por la comedia blanca. Los programas de comediantes son sus favoritos.

Le gusta leer pero no es parte de sus pasatiempos.

No habla de ello pero él apreciaba mucho a Pigma y su traición fue un impacto enorme, debido a ello se volvió más desconfiado, de hecho desconfiaba mucho de Falco cuando entró al equipo.

Capitán Shears:

Amante de las mascotas al cien por ciento, especialmente las grandes.

Nombró a su jabalí igual que una planta silvestre, pues lo encontró comiéndolas en una arboleda de Titania.

Al principio no estaba de acuerdo con los ideales de Andross pero se convenció de afiliarse a él cuando Andrew lo protegió de otro corneriano.