#we continue to earn our character death tag in this one lads

[raeofalbion]

Blackout - Chapter 28, Beloved

AN: Sorry for the delay! Work ran away with me. Anyway: exciting things happen. (★‿★)

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Chapter 28: Beloved

The campfire had been extinguished, logs frozen over with ice so thick there was no way they could relight them. Satyr was gone—deep hoof-marks gouged into the snow suggested she had fled in a panic. But...why had she fled? And where was everyone else? At this distance, the caravan looked as cold and empty as they’d left it; the tents nowhere to be seen. Victoria turned to catch Scythe’s gaze, questioning and concerned. Behind the dark fabric covering his face, his red eyes gleamed eerily in the dim moonlight, narrowing as he thought. She heard him breathe a soft note of displeasure as she rested her hands upon the hilts of her blades. Together, they stepped further away from the Prism, tension prickling at them both. They found Theresa and Nergüi hidden amongst some of the rubble to the left of the Prism’s entrance. Theresa was unconscious, back against the Prism's wall. Nergüi sat, half-slumped, in front of her, a long gash across her chest. A glowing amulet sat in her hand powering a protective bubble around them that was fading by the second. Victoria felt the Crawler stretch, growing alert.

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Read the rest of the chapter at: FFN: link Ao3: link

[atiny-piratequeen]

Against the Tide: First Voyage (Ch.1)

Pairing: Eventual Poly Ot8

Genre: Heavy Angst, Eventual Smut and Fluff mixed in

Rating: 18+

Tags: DemonPirate!Au, Supernatural, Eventual Poly Relarionship, Violence, Blood, Elemental Powers, Past and Modern Day AU, Mythical Creatures, Character Death

A/N: There could be tags added later, especially if there’s something I write that potentially triggers my readers. The last thing I want is for that to happen, so please don’t hesitate to give me feedback if there’s something I write here you’d like me to tag

Summary: Hongjoong is the leader of a notorious pirate crew. A run in with a demon leaves him with immortality and the ability to grant immortal life to those who form pacts with him. One day, a member of his crew angers a sea witch, and she decides to exact revenge on them by casting Hongjoong into a completely different part of the world and stealing his memories. The seven key members of his crew spend centuries looking for him, to no avail, and meet up in modern day Seoul to try and strategize how they can find their leader. Discouraged, with some close to giving up, they happen upon a man with a familiar smile and voice speaking on the street one day about a Long Journey. Now the seven of them must get Hongjoong to rember who he is before he slips through their fingers once again.

AO3 Link

Taglist

← Last Voyage   Next Voyage →

=Age 10=

“What in the blazes is that?”

He flinched, flailing his legs as he tried to get down from the man holding onto him by the back of his shirt. That earned him a sharp jab to his ribs, making him cough and sputter as he lowered his head, fear pulsing through his body. 

“He was hidden between some barrels in the hold, Captain. It looks like he was one of the port hands in the last town and he stowed away when no one was looking.” 

The figure across from him clicked their tongue, and he cowered as the sound of leather boots approached him, the wood of the deck creaking loud with every step. 

“Stowed away on my ship? Do you have a death wish, lad?” a voice growled at him and a hand reached out, lifting his face abruptly so he could look the Captain in their eyes. 

“A…woman…?”

The Captain’s eyes narrowed dangerously, one hand going to the blunderbuss pistol strapped to her thigh before she pressed it to the center of his head, lip curling up in dissatisfaction. 

“Aye, and you’re about to be at the bottom of Davy Jones’ locker, rat.” She hissed. He trembled, unable to move his head away from the firearm pressed against it. Panicked, his eyes looked around, finding other members of the crew were also women, some with shorter, choppier haircuts. Some of them sent him sympathetic looks, but none of them made any moves to stop their Captain. 

“I hope you’ve made peace with your family and your maker, lad. I don’t take kindly to people sneaking aboard my ship.”

“I d-don’t have a family…s-sir.” He quickly admitted, having a momentary battle on what to call the angered Captain. The finger that she had on the safety of the blunderbuss paused, and she put a hand on her hip, arching a brow at him. 

“I’m an orphan. I worked at port on the docks for as long as I can remember…I just wanted to see the world and do something more than be a poor orphan on the street, C-captain. P-please…please take me with you, I promise I’ll be useful!” He pleaded, brown eyes holding a flicker of hope and determination. The Captain’s brows went up in surprise, a small laugh leaving her throat. 

“Do you know what you’re saying? Me? Bring a child along? You wouldn’t last-”

“I’ll prove it to you! If I can make myself useful and survive, you make me a member of your crew!” 

The captain rolled her eyes and lowered the blunderbuss, putting it back in its holster and nodding for the man behind him to drop the child. He fell to the deck harder than expected, groaning in pain before looking up, looking at the Captain’s outstretched hand. 

“My name is Captain Jihyo. When we’re in port, you only call me Captain Hyo. If it gets out there are women aboard my ship, or that I’m a woman, our entire crew will be executed. Do you understand?” She snapped. The child grabbed her hand and nodded, pulling himself up with her help before he looked up, determination shining in his eyes. 

“My name is Kim Hongjoong. And I swear on my mother’s resting spirit, I’ll be a fine member of this crew.”

=Age 15=

“Must you always get yourself in trouble?” Jihyo grunted, dragging Hongjoong back into the tavern by his ear. He hissed, frowning as he looked up at his Captain. The woman had taken a liking to him in their years together and has quickly become a mother-like figure to him. 

Which…would explain the stern look and smack upside his head he received when Jihyo had pulled him into the room he was to stay in. 

“I told you not to go outside. I know this town well, I knew you’d pull this again-”

“I didn’t do anything wrong, Captain! He was harassing that lass on the street, she clearly didn’t want any of his attention, so I…’helped out’.” He coughed at the end of his sentence, avoiding Jihyo’s sharp gaze. She stared at him for a long time before she sent him a smile, pressing their heads together and lowering her voice as she spoke. 

“I appreciate your respect for others, especially women, lad. But you still have to tread carefully. The last thing we need is a brawl breaking out because you’re on your justice kick.” She gently scolded, ruffling his hair before moving away from him. 

“You are a pirate. I would imagine you’d earn yourself a rather..unique name if you continued being so nice.” She waved her finger at him, heading towards the door. Hongjoong rolled his eyes half heartedly, but smiled nonetheless.

“If they remember me for being more than ‘just another pirate’, I’ll take it as a compliment.” He grinned before diving onto his bed, smiling contently. 

=Age 19=

“There are some odd jobs we can do while in port.” Jihyo informed them, standing at the ship’s bow with her arms crossed. She had already cut her hair before they neared the port, her eyes set on the approaching docs as they approached. Hongjoong was at her side, along with her First Mate, a quirky gentleman named Daniel.

“I’m sure they’d be happy to see you, Captain. This is your port town, afterall.” He teased. Jihyo hummed, tilting her chin up as they docked. The town was welcoming of pirates, but she still made sure to change their flag to the country’s colors, just as a precaution in the event of any naval officers also being in town. 

“We’ll be staying here for a few weeks, stock up and make sure not to do anything stupid.” She ordered as they lowered the anchor, sending Hongjoong a sharp look as he tried to tip toe out of her sight. 

“That means you, Mr. Kim Hongjoong.” 

“I have no idea what you mean, Captain Park Hyo.” 

Jihyo rolled her eyes and smiled, nodding for him and the rest of the crew to disperse and enjoy traveling in the port town. She and Daniel stayed behind. They watched the people mingling in the port with small, calm looks on their faces. 

The silence was broken by Jihyo’s coughing, her brows pulling up as she hacked violently. Daniel frowned, pulling her out of the view of the curious port hands before sitting her on the ship’s deck. Worry creased his brow as she continued coughing for a few minutes before letting out a shaky sound, sighing. 

“Captain-”

“Don’t say it.”

“Jihyo. You can’t keep pretending this isn’t getting worse.” He told her sternly, holding her shoulders. She looked up at him, her lips trembling before she shook her head, brushing her hands off on her trousers before she stood. 

“I know. That’s why we’re here. I heard a tip from the last town that we’d be able to find something here to prolong this…just bare with me.” She told him before she squared her shoulders, pulling her hat down to slightly obscure her eyes as she headed down towards the docks. Daniel sighed and nodded, following faithfully behind her. 

=3 Nights Later=

Jihyo smiled as their Quartermaster, Psy, poured her another glass of rum. They all drank merrily together, eating the meat and rice served at the tavern. 

Well, most of them.

Hongjoong sat at the end of the table, nursing a glass of water as he looked over some of the maps their Sailing Masters had gotten a hold of while in town. He surveyed the pages, muttering to himself about potential treasure. Jihyo glanced at him before smiling, taking another hearty swig. 

The sound of their merriment was interrupted by the door to the tavern being opened abruptly, a group of men dragging in bloodied figures. The tavern owner jolted from her spot behind the bar, eyes going wide as the men dropped their wounded on the taven floor. 

“What in the hell are you doing?! You’re going to ruin my floors!” She barked in disapproval, slamming down a mug on the bar, ignoring the way the brew inside sloshed out and spilled onto the counter. 

“Bite your tongue, woman! Can’t you see they’re bleeding out?!” One barked. The woman behind the counter, Momo, raising her brows in surprise at the rude tone. She grabbed a knife from her garterbelt beneath her skirt, stabbing the bar as she looked at them with an unamused expression.

“I don’t like your tone.”

“W-we’re sorry, Miss! Please, let us stay just a little longer! We’ll pay for any damages and all the rounds will be on us tonight!” One of the men quickly tried to remedy the escalating situation. The pirates and other patrons in the tavern cheered, going back to their own devices, while the other wounded men sent him a glare. 

“What? We have to decide what to do and we can’t leave them on the street!” He snapped. A blonde in their group shook his head. 

“I told you dense bastards, we shouldn’t have gone near that cove. Did you see what that wench did to John and Terry?!” He barked. The other three men looked down, clearly terrified as the two they’d brought in coughed weakly on the floor, the focus fading from their eyes. 

Hongjoong bit his lip, moving to pull his seat out when a hand landed on his shoulder. He turned back to the table to find Jihyo had moved from her spot, now taking her place beside him. She sent him a firm glare, clearly having sobered up from the shock of the bloodied men. 

“Don’t you dare.” she growled, her voice lowered to mimic a man’s flawlessly.  Hongjoong shrunk down in his seat, mumbling. 

“I wasn’t-”

“Ay, was I born yesterday, lad? I know that look in your eyes. You’re troublesome need to help people all the time. Don’t you dare go to that cove. I don’t want to leave this port town knowing my son-” she paused. Hongjoong’s lips parted in shock and Jihyo cleared her throat, raising her voice to Momo.

“Momo! Another round of rum! Gimme the strongest you got!” She huffed, pivoting on her heel, leaving Hongjoong stunned in his chair. Jihyo sat down heavily in her original seat, avoiding eye contact with the teen as Daniel chuckled from beside her. 

Hongjoong felt his heart racing, his mind whirring as he ran the word through his head over and over again. 

Son…

A fond smile came to his face, and he momentarily forgot about the men behind him. Until a wary laugh came from the left. 

“At least we left that wench bleeding out. Tomorrow we’ll blast the damn cove shut. Send her straight to hell where her kind belongs.” He spat. The other men didn’t laugh along with him, but they seemed to be relieved that whatever it was that injured their own was in pain and soon to be trapped in the cove. 

Hongjoong’s gaze drifted back to the maps in front of him.

He can’t focus. 

=Midnight=

Hongjoong carefully removed his boots as he approached the cove, knowing he’d have to wade through knee-deep sea water in order to get inside. He rolled his trouser pants up, tucking his shirt into the waistband of them before he began his careful approach. There was a lantern in his hand, and he had to keep it high above his head to keep it from going out. 

When he reached the mouth of the cove, he bit his lip, looking from left to right. He didn’t see anything initially, so he steeled himself and pushed deeper, his feet lightly slapping against the wet stones of the cove. 

Then he heard it. The low, pained hiss. 

“G e t o u t.” 

“H-Hold, I’m not here to harm you, I only want to help-”

“Get. Out.”

Hongjoong bit back the urge to turn tail and run, turning to the sound of the voice, lifting the lantern. He saw a puddle of blood, his stomach churning as the light rose until he saw a raised stone, seeing a woman staring at him, her face and hands smeared in blood. Her hair fell in front of her face, her lip curled up into a snarl as she looked at him through the ink-colored locks. 

“You need help, you’re injured-”

“G E T O U T!” she screamed, and he was knocked off his feet in a harsh gust of wind. His lantern smashed to the ground, plunging the cove in darkness, with only the moonlight in the mouth to light anything. 

Hongjoong groaned, hissing when he felt the glass from the lantern cut into his palm as he pushed himself up. 

“L-lass, I don’t know what they’ve done to you or why, but I can’t leave you here hurt like this. Please, they won’t leave you alone. Those sailors intend on blowing this cove shut and leaving you here. You’ll die!” He pleaded into the darkness. There was a laugh, low and humorless.

Suddenly, lights appeared in the cove, in the form of balls of fire, each hovering in mid air around the woman. She stayed where she was, reviewing the brunette pirate with mild interest, though there was still pain in her features. 

“You…you must be a fool. Do you not know why they came? Do you know nothing of me?”

Hongjoong ignored the pain of his palm and shook his head, standing to his feet once more as he carefully approached her. He raised both of his hands when the woman’s eyes narrowed at him. 

“I am not from this port town. I am a pirate, we’ve only settled in port days ago. My name is Kim Hongjoong. Who are you, lass?” 

“I am Hyuna of Tortuga Bay. I am a demon.Those insolent fools came to take the ‘treasure’ of this cove, as fools tend to do. However-” She hissed, groaning as he breathing turned ragged again. She allowed Hongjoong to approach her closer, her hands twitching as he stopped in front of her. 

He looked at her face, hesitantly moving her sweat and blood-slick bangs out of her face. She was a beautiful woman with a porcelain complexion under the blood caked to her face. At this point, Hongjoong wasn’t sure if it was hers, or the blood of the sailor’s. 

“They said they left you wounded-” He stopped himself when he noticed the culprit of her agony. 

The glinting gold crucifix stabbed straight through her chest. His eyes grew, and he noticed the burns around the entrance of the wound and around her fingers, as if she had tried desperately tried to pull it out herself. 

“I…I can take it out.” He said suddenly, eyes transfixed on the crucifix. She stared at him carefully, a small glimmer of hope in her light eyes. The flames that illuminated the cove grew closer, and she looked up at him in interest. 

“You…said you were a pirate, correct? Why are you helping me? You know nothing of who I am and nothing of the rumored treasure, and yet you come to my aid? You could leave now. I can’t die, I’d be just like this for all eternity and you can take my treasure. Why are you trying to help me?” She inquired. Hongjoong shrugged one shoulder, running his uninjured hand through his bangs. 

“I don’t like seeing people being ganged up on. I won’t stand for men doing this to a woman, no matter what the reason.” He told her flatly, meeting her cautious gaze. 

“You can say my…my mother raised me well. I may be a pirate, but I was still raised with respect. Besides, if the puddle of blood I’m standing in is anything to go by, I probably wouldn’t make it out of the cove before you ended me if you wanted to, injured or not. Now…do you want me to take this out?” he questioned once more. 

Hyuna stared at him for a long moment before she closed her eyes, nodding. 

“This may hurt. I’m sorry.” He whispered, wrapping his fingers around the golden base. Hyuna’s brows twitched in pain and he could hear the sound of burning, so he yanked with all of his strength, pulling the crucifix out in one go. 

There was an unholy scream and Hongjoong dropped the crucifix in an instant, clamping his hands over his ears. The floating flames went out and Hongjoong frowned, trying to feel around in the darkness. 

“Lass? Hyuna? A-are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He called into the inky blackness. There was the sound of a giggle, gentle and feminine before the whole cove was illuminated. He looked up in awe, watching as the light illuminated from Hyuna’s body, different from the small, whisp-like plumes of fire from before. 

“I…I am free again.” She exhaled, holding her hand in front of her face, smiling wide as the burns healed themselves. Hongjoong watched the hole in her chest close and let out a relieved smile. 

“Good. You may want to leave, though. Those sailors intend on coming back tomorrow to blast the entrance closed.” He reminded her, moving to dust his hands off on his pants, but stopping when he remembered the blood running from his palm. 

“You…are unlike any man I have met in this realm. Come, since you’ve freed me, it’s only fair I give you a gift in return, yes?” She hummed, looking down at his hand. 

“You don’t have to-”

“You didn’t have to come here, Kim Hongjoong, the pirate.” She countered. He snapped his mouth shut, nodding in defeat. She did have a point. 

“I will give you the treasure many have come to this cove for. Eternal life, youth, and power beyond your wildest dreams.” She wiped at the blood on her cheek, reaching for his hand to lace their fingers together. 

Hongjoong felt a pulse course through him, and his eyes widened as his heartbeat increased. 

“What-”

“Kim Hongjoong, I will give you power. You will be like me, a demon. Upon forming blood pacts, you will also make those under you immortals. If the pact is strong, you will share your powers. Accept my gift, for I know you will use it well.” She muttered, her eyes glowing bright blue. Hongjoong gasped, feeling like his body was on fire, energy coursing through his veins. 

“HONGJOONG! GET AWAY FROM MY SON!” a voice caught Hyuna’s attention as a pirate ran full speed at her. She hummed and lifted her hand, a gust of wind lifting the woman effortlessly. She shook her head, sending a fond smile to her. 

“Ah, the mother he mentioned? I never imagined his mother would be a pirate disguising herself as a man. It makes sense, why he’s so unique.” she hummed before looking down at Hongjoong, noticing the faraway look in his eyes, his brow twitching in confusion. 

“What are you doing to him?! Let him go! Hongjoong! Hongjoong!!” Jihyo screamed, thrashing fruitlessly against the wind. Hyuna smiled in fond understanding and shook her head. 

“He has received my gift. He is immortal. Now, he must control his powers. Things tend to get…wild on the first night of the full moon after one becomes a demon. Now sit still. I will help him harness his powers here and now so that your crew won’t be ripped to shreds on the next full moon.” She instructed, watching as Hongjoong’s eyes went from brown to an electric blue, the overabundance of power coursing through him making small spider-web red veins appear on his face. 

His gaze snapped to Hyuna and she rolled her neck. 

“You and your demonic self must become one. Come, I will train you. Though I suggest we hurry, lest your mother have another child over there.” She informed, nodding at Jihyo’s direction. Hongjoong let out a low sound before darting to her full speed, a large blast of water shooting past him. 

Hyuna side stepped and smiled, watching Hongjoong’s face change, three marks appearing on his forehead, along with a bushy white tail. Fireballs rained down on her, all of which she knocked away without batting a lash. 

“Water, even my kitsune powers have went to you? Fascinating. More, show me more, Hongjoong.” She urged, skipping backwards as the ground beneath her feet shook. 

=3 Hours Later=

Hongjoong finally fell to his knees, panting as his eyes returned to their normal, welcoming brown color. Hyuna flicked her hand, bringing Jihyo closer to them, ignoring the way she immediately pulled her blunderbuss on her. 

“Hongjoong….” She trailed off, frowning as he passed out shortly after. 

“You…”

“I care not for your personal feelings, but I will explain myself. You are from this town, so you know of me. The ‘treasure’ of this cove is me. My blessing. My immortality. Men find out about demons that can grant them eternal youth and they hunt them down. I have killed most who have ventured here, and had you not have raised him the way you did, your son would have joined. But he is different. I can give him my ‘treasure’ with confidence that he wont abuse it and create a crew of immortal vagabonds. The powers are a little extra gift.” She winked and moved to walk past them. Jihyo watched her every move before she started coughing once more, brows pinched up as she observed the blood in her palm. 

“N-No…”

Hyuna stopped at her side, looking down at her in interest before she straightened her back, turning towards the mouth of the cove. 

“I suggest you form a pact with him. You don’t have much left, otherwise, pirate.” She informed her before she disappeared in a dazzling light. 

Jihyo wiped her mouth and grabbed Hongjoong’s arm, dragging him back out of the cove, sighing.

—-

“Captain, don’t you want Hongjoong to be here for this?” Psy inquired, pushing his glasses up as Jihyo gathered all of the crew-sans Hongjoong-on the deck of her ship. 

“No. I have something important to ask of all of you.” She told them, her voice solemn. They all perked, nodding as they watched her carefully. 

“My health…is dwindling. I doubt at this stage there is anything I can do. I know Psy and Daniel have no desire to be Captain when I’m gone, and that most of you have found Hongjoong to be reliable enough for the job. I have one order I want you all to take to the graves with you.” She told them, taking her hat off to rub her head before she set it back on. 

“Hongjoong was…he’s received a ‘gift’ and he’s not human anymore. The lad somehow impressed a demoness and she turned him into one of her own. He apparently can give this immortality to others,”

“Wait, so why won’t you just-”

“Because I refuse to take advantage of him. I want my son to give his powers to those he trusts wholeheartedly on his own, not have ties to us out of an obligation for us taking him in.” 

They all began protesting at once, but Jihyo slammed her heel against the deck, glaring at them all. 

“My orders, are for you to not accept any offers of immortality from Hongjoong. Even when he becomes captain. I am here now, and I’m giving the order here and now. Swear to me you won’t betray me. This is a dying woman’s wish.” she told them, leaving no room for argument. 

They all exchanged looks before small, reluctant smiles crossed their faces. One by one they all swore, patting their captain on the shoulder as they filtered back down to their quarters. Daniel and Psy stayed by her side, watching the waves of the ocean in silence as tears ran down her cheeks.—-

=x=

“Please!”

“No.”

“WHY?!” 

Jihyo sighed and looked up at Hongjoong from her bed, her face pale. Daniel was at her side, holding her hand as she coughed weakly. Her condition had gotten worse at an alarming rate and it became impossible for her to hide it. 

“P-Please…Please, I can save you. Please, why won’t you-”

“I said no, Hongjoong. Let me go. Let me rest. You’ll be a fine captain.”

Tears welled up in his eyes as he shook his head, his chest heaving. 

“Daniel! You can’t be okay with this! You love her! Tell her to let me help! Tell her to-”

“It’s already been decided.” Daniel cut him off, raising his head to look at him with bloodshot eyes. Hongjoong bit his lip, looking down with tears rolling down his cheeks. He shuffled to her other side, his shaking hand taking hers as he looked at her face. 

“Captain…M…Mom…please…”

“Just stay with me, Hongjoong. Stay with me and keep a smile on your face. You’re a different breed of pirate. I want you to make your own crew and change what it means to be a pirate for the world, okay? Until the last wind blows through these sails, please never stop being the center of the world.” She told him, reaching under her blankets to pass him a compass. 

“Let it always point you forward, my son.” She mused, cupping his cheek, crying with him as they continued sailing, the boat gently rocking the trio. 

= ~ =

The crew shed tears as Daniel set the last stone on top of the pile. Underneath, buried deep in the sand, laid the peaceful body of their captain. 

She had asked to be stripped of all materialistic items, jewels, gold, silver, and buried in the sand of an island she visited when she became a pirate. 

Remote, quiet, with the beautiful scent of island flora beckoning you in deeper. 

One by one, each crew member dropped a bloom on top of the stones, before heading back to the ship. Hongjoong lingered, the bloom in his trembling hand before he sighed and finally relented, setting it down on top of the pile. 

“Goodnight, Captain Jihyo…Sweet dreams, mother.” He whispered, turning and heading back with heavy footsteps. 

He stood on the bow, the wind carrying saltwater and the scent of island flora past his nose like a gentle caress. There was a flower tucked behind his ear as he stared down at the shore, eyes locked on the pile of beautiful rocks in the sand, topped with flowers and shells. The ship pulled away, and he bit back the need to sob as he watched the mound grow farther and farther away. An old voice called to him from behind, and he turned, noticing Psy standing behind him. 

“Captain? We have to keep moving.” his tone was gentle, a hand running through his balding head as he bowed his head in respect. Hongjoong lifted his chin, wiping his eyes with the back of his palms before he turned. 

Right. He was the Captain now.

“I’ll be right over. We have a long journey ahead of us.”

[searchingwardrobes]

An Education in Southern Gothic: 1/2

Here it is, my first contribution to the @cssns! I am so excited to share this with all of you! It’s based on a ghost story that kids would tell at a school where I used to teach. The school really was built on the former grounds of a Southern plantation, and it really did have a small graveyard on school property. The most fun for me was putting our favorite Once characters in a Southern setting, and I hope you all enjoy reading it just as much! Part two is already written and will post tomorrow.

Much thanks to @snowbellewells, my fellow English teacher and grammar queen. Your metaphorical red pen was a life saver!

The above eerie art with a Southern flair by @hollyethecurious

Summary - Fact: there’s a graveyard between the football field and the science building. Debatable: a ghost haunts the halls of Misthaven Hills High. Emma Swan is about to get an education. Killian Jones is about to get a whole lot more.

Rating: T

Also on Ao3

Tagging the usuals (let me know if I missed anyone!): @welllpthisishappening @kday426 @jennjenn615 @let-it-raines @kmomof4 @teamhook @bethacaciakay @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @optomisticgirl @distant-rose @xhookswenchx @wellhellotragic @tiganasummertree @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @winterbaby89 @branlovestowrite @ohmakemeahercules @shireness-says @mythologicalmango @vvbooklady1256 @gingerchangeling @ultraluckycatnd @revanmeetra87 

Chapter One: Urban Legend 101

It’s not so much the two-foot high, decorative fence of ornate black metal. Nor the ancient tombstones tilting in the Georgia red clay and cracking down the middle. Emma Swan isn’t the type to find anything chilling in the realities of death. It’s just a graveyard, she would say with a roll of her eyes, even as a child. She was always that kid willing to traipse across a grave when dared, never once entertaining the idea that the person buried beneath would be angry, disturbed, or even care. Rotting bones, that’s all there was beneath the earth. Not angry souls of the departed.

Yet this one has a chill skittering across her spine, especially when a breeze sends the Spanish moss swaying. The olive green vegetation drips from the live oak shading this little plot. This is her first Georgia fall, but she already knows the chill isn’t in the air. Even if it is early October.

“Rather creepy, isn’t it?” says a British accent at her side, and the sound makes her jump.

“Shit, Jones!” she snaps.

“Language,” he admonishes, with an exaggerated wag of his fingers. Her eye roll earns her a soft chuckle. He crosses his arms and regards the gravestones silently beside her.

“I didn’t believe the kids,” Emma admits, “until Henry Mills actually hauled a heavy book into class.”

“Aye, that lad is a believer if I ever saw one.”

“Yeah,” she agrees fondly, “so I had to come out here and see for myself. How did I not know there was a graveyard here?”

“You mean tucked between the football field and the science labs?” Killian quips. “Why would you?”

“Shouldn’t there be a plaque or something?” she arches a brow at her friend. “Huh, Mr. History Buff?”

He rubs at the scruff on his jaw in feigned deep thought. She finds herself staring a bit too intently at the cut of his handsome face and quickly glances away. Killian hadn’t exactly endeared himself to her at their first meeting back in late July. She was rushing to her first faculty meeting at Misthaven Hills High, and running across the parking lot in the 99 degree humidity hadn’t exactly put her in the best mood. Killian’s over the top flirting when she slid into the only available seat in the packed library had earned him a swift kick to the shin. If it hadn’t been for Mary Margaret and David, she would have assumed the history teacher was a total asshole.

Yet it turned out that Killian was David’s best friend, and David was the husband of her college roommate and best friend Mary Margaret. Killian was also friends with Belle, the librarian; Ariel, the biology teacher and swim coach; Robin, the PE teacher; and even Robin’s wife, Regina, who was also the school principal. The students also adored him, and not just the girls who swooned over his looks. She couldn’t go anywhere in this school and find anyone who disliked the man. So she begrudgingly had to admit she’d been wrong about him.

Now, two and a half months later, she honestly counts him as one of her best friends. They understand one another in a way that’s almost uncanny. Best of all, Killian’s flirting never pushes past the teasing type that makes her smile. While Mary Margaret and David fret about Emma’s walls, Killian respects them, even understands why Emma feels she needs them. And for that, she appreciates and welcomes his friendship.

“You know, this just may be the perfect subject for the next grant request. I need to get with Belle on that.”

“A ghost story can get us a grant?”

“Of course!” he tells her with a wide grin. “History fanatics love a good ghost story. Especially one that took place on a southern plantation.”

Emma frowns and cocks her head at the tiny plot. “This town couldn’t have bought land someplace else?”

Killian chuckles and nudges her in the ribs. “What is it, Swan, do you believe in ghost stories?”

“No,” she scoffs with a wave of her hand, “I just think it’s creepy that they had to build the school around tombstones.”

“So,” Killian says, voice dropping low as he saunters close to her, “you don’t believe that the ghost of Cora Mills wanders these hallways, angry at being hung on this very tree simply for taking vengeance that was rightfully hers?”

A shudder runs through Emma as a breeze rustles the tree again, as if it can hear Killian’s words. His breath against her ear doesn’t help either.

“While she continues to make breakfast foods?” she says to cover up her reaction.

She hopes the arch of her brow conveys her incredulity. Her students had claimed that sometimes you could hear bacon sizzling and the cracking of eggs. That sometimes you could even smell it. The ghost of Cora Mills eternally cooking that final breakfast she had set before Tara and Jonathan Lautour before stabbing them to death with a butcher knife.

“The story makes no sense,” Emma snaps, propping her hands on her hips. “Why make them breakfast when she planned on killing them?”

Killian leans closer, waggling his eyebrows. In an ominous voice he says, “So they wouldn’t see it coming.”

Emma shoves him in the chest and his laughter sings on the autumn breeze.

“You’re as full of it as the kids are, Jones.”

His laughter rings behind her as she marches back to the main school building to get her things before heading home for the afternoon. The cold dread that skitters down her spine is just her mind playing tricks on her.

*************************************************************

“You want me to do what?!���

Mary Margaret sighs and gives her a withering look as if she’s her petulant two-year-old. “I think I spoke clearly, Emma.”

Killian snorts, earning him a dig in the ribs from Emma. Jasmine stares intently into her salad as if avoiding eye contact with Mary Margaret will save her from being roped into the deal along with Emma. The four of them make up the entire humanities department: Emma English, Killian history, Mary Margaret art, and Jasmine drama and music. They’re also co-sponsors of both the school paper and the yearbook. It’s the downside to teaching in a town as small as Misthaven. Yet the upside is the bond they share with students whom they teach for four years straight.

“I’ve just assigned research papers to my juniors,” Emma argues, “and I got stuck with the homecoming issue of the paper, remember?”

“It’s just one night,” Mary Margaret says, throwing in a pout for good measure.

“Why the hell do the cheerleaders spend the night in the cafeteria?”

“Language!” her colleagues chorus.

Emma rolls her eyes. “As if Regina even watches her language. I heard her call Will Scarlett a little piece of shit just yesterday.”

“That’s because his parents call him that,” Killian quipped.

“Anyways,” Emma says with a wave of her hand, “I’m not spending the night at the school, especially not on the cafeteria floor.”

“We bring air mattresses,” Mary Margaret explained, “and it’s a tradition. This time of year, the girls are so busy with football and homecoming that they don’t get enough practice in for competition season -”

“Which starts in two weeks,” Jasmine puts in.

“Exactly,” Mary Margaret continues, “so we do an overnight practice.”

“And you don’t sleep in the gym because . . .” Emma grumbles.

“There’s no air conditioning.”

“Aye,” Killian put in, “you may be new to the South, Swan, but surely you already know that air conditioning is a necessity, not a luxury.”

“Thank you for your expert opinion, Brit.”

“Emma, I beg of you,” Mary Margaret says, “I need a certain number of chaperones, and my assistant coach is pregnant.”

“So?”

“Nine months pregnant. She can’t sleep on an air mattress!” She clutches Emma’s arm. “She’s going to stay for the entire practice. All I need you to do is be an adult presence.”

“A warm body,” Killian clarifies.

“Exactly. Until David and Killian get there with breakfast at 6 am.”

“See, Swan, just until - wait, what am I doing?”

Emma laughs at Killian’s confused expression. Jasmine almost chokes on a cherry tomato.

“You and David are bringing us Chick-fil-A at 6 am. The order has already been placed.”

“Wait!” Emma raises a hand to stop Mary Margaret’s words. “Why didn’t you say that sooner? You would have had me at chicken biscuit. Unless there won’t be hashbrowns.”

She turns and grasps Killian’s arm.

“Will there be hashbrowns?”

He chuckles and pats her hand. “Emma, I swear you would sell your soul for greasy food.”

“Answer my question, Jones.”

“Yes, love, there will be hashbrowns.”

****************************************************************

Emma seriously cannot believe she agreed to this. Killian was right: she’s way too addicted to fast food. Otherwise she wouldn’t be blowing up twenty-three air mattresses in a high school cafeteria. At least she’s in the air conditioning and not in the sweltering gym like Mary Margaret and her assistant coach.

The final air mattress plumps up, and Emma cuts off the air pump. As the whirring stops, the cafeteria feels eerily quiet. A shiver runs down her spine, but Emma shakes it off. She wraps the cord around the pump and puts it back into the box Mary Margaret was very insistent it had to be stored in. Emma turns to put it in the plastic storage tub, chuckling again at the sparkly label: “MHHS Cheer Squad Glamping Supplies.” As she snaps the lid in place, she sees a figure out of the corner of her eye.

“Finally,” she huffs as she turns, “Violet, you were supposed to . . . “

Emma trails off as she sees nothing but the empty doorway leading out into the hall. Hmm, maybe she ducked into the bathroom, Emma thinks as she crosses the large room. Her boots echo off the tile floors, and that damn shiver runs through her again. It’s all because of Killian and Henry and all of their stupid ghost stories.

And the graveyard between the football field and the science labs? Her traitorous mind adds. Which, by the way, also isn’t that far from the cafeteria?

“Seriously, Emma, get a grip,” she mumbles out loud to herself and then proceeds to be one of those ridiculous people who roll their eyes at themselves.

“Violet?” she calls, poking her head into the girls restroom. The light is flipped off, and Emma realizes that the freshman would never use the bathroom in the pitch dark. She turns and nearly collides with a short, slim figure with dark hair. “Sh - Violet!”

“Sorry Ms. Swan,” the girl apologizes, “you were calling me?”

Emma shakes her head. “Yeah, I was, sorry.”

“Coach Ms said I’m supposed to help lay out all the sleeping bags and goody bags and stuff.”

“Goody bags?”

“Yeah, it’s a tradition.”

Emma rolls her eyes. Again. “Of course it is.”

She sighs and leads the girl over to where all of the cheerleaders had deposited their things. There are glittery signs on the wall with each girl’s name. Naturally.

Neither Emma nor Violet notice the shadow that melts into the dark recesses of the kitchen.

***************************************************************

“And now Cora Mills, rejected by her lover Jonathan LaTour, plunges her knife into his heart: Again! And Again! And Again!”

With one hand holding a flashlight beneath her chin, Ruby, a senior on the cheerleading squad, lifts her other hand to make stabbing motions. The other girls in the circle jolt slightly at the violent hand gestures. Relishing her audience’s reactions, Ruby grins wickedly as she continues the macabre tale.

“Tara LaTour screams, but before she can even rise from the dining room table, Cora descends on her as well!”

The girls now audibly shudder as Ruby makes stabbing motions again. Her friend Ashley at her right makes screeching noises like in the movie Psycho. Ruby hands the flashlight off to her.

“Do we really have to listen to this story?” Emma whispers into Mary Margaret’s ear, “I mean, some of the younger ones look like they’re about to wet their pants.”

Mary Margaret laughs her off, “It’s a tradition for the seniors to tell it. Scaring the freshmen is part of the fun.”

“Great,” Emma mumbles, “another tradition.”

“Covered in blood,” Ashley picks up the tale, dropping her normally sweet voice down several octaves, “Cora Mills sits calmly at the dining table and finishes her victims’ breakfast!”

“Ewww!” the girls all chorus, followed by nervous giggling.

“That’s how the police found her. They were so horrified, they dragged her out that very morning and hung her on the oak tree. Right. Over. There!”

Ashley points dramatically towards the door that leads outside. At the same moment, a loud clattering sound comes from the kitchen and all the girls scream. Emma’s loathe to admit it, but even she jumps, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Calm down girls,” Mary Margaret admonishes gently, “it’s probably just the commercial size dishwasher.”

The next senior takes the flashlight, a tiny, nervous girl named Aurora. Emma isn’t expecting her to get into such a terrifying tale, but the normally timid girl turns out to be quite the little actress.

“Now Misthaven Hills Plantation is no more,” she intones, “instead, our high school sits on the land where the tragic murder took place. Cora Mills, still vengeful, roams these very halls.”

All of the girls are leaning forward now, hanging on every word.

“If you listen, you can still hear her making that breakfast,” Aurora pauses and cocks her head as if she hears something. The rest do the same.

“D-do ya’ll h-hear that?” stutters Tiana, a normally tough junior.

The girls scream again, and Emma has to admit, she thought she might have heard something. Probably a mouse, but she doesn’t know if that theory will lessen the screaming. Thankfully, whatever the noise was stops, and the girls nervously glance at one another and giggle. Aurora continues, sniffing the air to punctuate her words.

“Often these halls smell of bacon and eggs.”

“Or whatever slop the cafeteria is cooking up,” Emma grumbles under her breath, and Mary Margaret pokes her in the side.

“And,” Aurora continues, leaning forward to drag out the suspense, “do you know what the ghost of Cora Mills is always looking for?”

“What?” the rest of the girls all whisper.

“The body of a girl to possess, but not just any girl,” Aurora pauses dramatically again, looking each girl in the eye, “a girl who is secretly crushing on a guy. So she can seduce that guy and . . . KILL HIM!!”

The girls all gasp and rear back, and Emma hides a giggle behind her hand.

“Then Violet better what o-out!” Grace, one of the freshmen, sing-songs.

“Me?” Violet squeaks.

“Everyone knows you’ve got a huge crush on Henry Mills!”

Even by the light of the lone flashlight, Emma can see the poor girl blush as chaos breaks loose among the cheerleaders. Some giggle, others make kissing noises, while Grace shakes her friend’s shoulder.

“All right, girls, that’s enough!” Mary Margaret admonishes, and they all quickly settle down. “I don’t allow teasing or bullying of any kind, remember?”

“But Coach Ms,” Grace potests, “Violet hasn’t tried to hide that she likes Henry.”

“Except from Henry,” Ruby quips, and they all giggle again.

“What exactly,” Violet asks nervously, “does the ghost do?”

“Oh honey,” Mary Margaret tries to assure the girl, “it’s just a silly story.”

“I don’t know,” Ashley argues with a shrug, “back in 2009 there was that boy who drowned this time of year, remember? His girlfriend was passed out on the shore of the lake with no memory of how she got there!”

“And in 99,” Ruby adds, “a couple was leaving the homecoming dance, and for no reason at all, the girl drove the car right into a tree. Killed the boy instantly, and the girl didn’t even remember going to the dance at all.”

“And Henry’s last name is Mills!” Violet gasped. “Is . . . is that a sign? Is the ghost going to get me? And then Henry?”

“Okay, everyone stop!” Emma calls out, rising and flipping on the light. She sits down next to the poor fourteen-year-old and takes her hands. “Violet, this whole thing is ridiculous. This is high school. Secret crushes are the norm. If this story were true, teenage boys would be dropping like flies around here.”

That gets a giggle out of the freshmen, but the upperclassmen look a little peeved.

“But back in 89 -”

“Stop,” Emma cuts Aurora off, “I think it’s time for bed.”

The girls all grumble, but begin sliding down into their sleeping bags nevertheless. Emma takes the flashlight from the seniors so she can flip the lights off once again.

*************************************************************

Emma isn’t surprised that she fell soundly asleep on an air mattress on the hard cafeteria floor. After all, years of foster care followed by life on the streets and crashing in her Bug have made her adaptable. These are far from the worst accommodations she’s ever had. However, she’s awakened a few hours later by frantic, high-pitched voices and hands shaking her.

“Ms. Swan! Ms. Swan!”

Emma sits up groggily, squinting to see with the beam of a flashlight shining in her face.

“Shit girls, you’ll blind me!”

“Language.”

Emma turns towards the admonition. “Ms?”

“There’s something in there,” Ruby squeaks.

“In where?”

“The kitchen,” Aurora whispers. She’s the one holding the flashlight in trembling hands.

“Girls, please -”

“No, Emma,” Mary Margaret says, “someone is definitely in there.”

That fully wakes Emma up. She sits and holds up both hands, shushing the whispering girls. For two heartbeats, there is only silence. Then, the distinct sound of spoons hitting metal reverberates through the cafeteria accompanied by the definite hissing of . . . bacon.

The girls all scream, naturally, and Emma harshly tells them to be quiet. She stands, yanking the flashlight unceremoniously out of Aurora’s hands. She places a finger to her lips, and the girls fall silent again as Emma turns and creeps towards the kitchen. Her heartbeat quickens as she sees a flickering light spilling out of the industrial room and over the cheap tile. Ruby is clutching one of Emma’s arms while Ashley clutches the other. Tiana is almost plastered to Emma’s back. The rest of the cheerleaders are in a tight bunch behind her, while Mary Margaret brings up the rear with Grace and Violet clinging to her sides.

“I’m calling David,” Mary Margaret whispers, pulling out her cell phone.

Emma stops beside the empty salad bar where she has a view into part of the kitchen, and crouches down. The girls all follow suit behind her. It’s almost comical how twenty one teenage girls and two grown women are squeezing themselves between the wall and the salad bar.

Now that they are closer to the kitchen, Emma can swear she smells bacon and eggs, but she tells herself it has to be her mind playing tricks on her. What is definite though are the cooking sounds coming from the kitchen. She can hear a whisk hitting rhythmically against the sides of a bowl and the sound of something sizzling in a frying pan. Behind her, the girls’ screams are muffled behind their hands. Emma turns, shining the flashlight at their feet so the girls can see her without being blinded. At the back of the group, Mary Margaret is talking into her phone in a tight whisper.

“Yes, David, there is someone in the kitchen!” She pauses to listen to her husband. “No, we are not imagining things! Now get over here right now before I have a heart attack!”

Emma bites her lower lip to keep from laughing as Mary Margaret hangs up her phone indignantly. She then speaks softly to the girls.

“Listen, most likely this is just someone playing a prank. Everyone knows you girls do this every year.” The girls all visibly relax slightly at Emma’s logic. “Now, I’m going to go in there as quietly as I can to take them by surprise. You all stay out here.”

“Emma, I really think you need to wait for David and Killian,” Mary Margaret tells her, “they said they’re on their way.”

Emma quirks a smile at her friend. “Please. The only one who rescues me is me.”

She ignores the whimpers of the girls and Mary Margaret hissing her name in a motherly tone as she slips inside the kitchen. She shines the beam of her flashlight over the serving line to her right and the dish area to her left. Nothing.

There’s a loud clatter that startles Emma, and the girls out in the cafeteria as well, based on the high-pitched screams. Emma swings the beam of her flashlight which illuminates a stainless steel bowl spinning in the center of the kitchen floor. Around the corner, where the stoves and ovens are, a strange, blue-tinged light is pulsing.

“We know you’re in here,” Emma calls out, “and it isn’t funny!”

The sounds of cooking are louder, the smells stronger, and there is no denying it: someone is cooking bacon and eggs in the middle of the night. Emma takes one slow step after another, then rounds the corner with the heavy camping flashlight held up like a weapon. She freezes at the sight before her, a shadowy figure radiating an eerie light. The figure pauses in stirring an empty skillet, turning its head slowly to look right at Emma . . .

The flashlight hits the floor, rolling across the industrial tile and colliding with the stainless steel bowl with a loud crash.

*****************************************************************

The last thing Killian wants to do on a Friday night is go to Misthaven Hills High. David is the football coach, and it’s one of his few off nights of the season. The two of them and Robin had been enjoying a rare guys night out at the local wings place, watching the Braves in the playoffs, when David got a frantic phone call from Mary Margaret. It was an insane phone call, really, but Mary Margaret isn’t the type to scare easily, so here they are pulling up to the mostly empty parking lot of the high school.

The three of them knock on the heavy outside doors to the cafeteria, and Mary Margaret immediately opens it and yanks them inside.

“Thank God you - wait, where are your weapons?”

“Weapons - “ David starts to laugh, but Mary Margaret is clearly not in a humorous mood.

“Yes, weapons! A gun? A baseball bat?”

“A sword,” Killian teases.

“A bow and arrow,” Robin adds with a chuckle.

Both men stop laughing immediately when Mary Margaret shoves them back outside.

“I guess she’s serious,” David sighs.

Luckily, David has a shotgun hidden under the back of the truck cab, and a baseball bat in his sports bag for when he and Killian hit the batting cages at the rec. David takes the gun, Killian the bat, and Robin breaks a branch off one of the dogwood trees that dot the school landscaping. Hopefully Leroy, the school groundskeeper, won’t find out it was them who desecrated one of his trees.

Who are they kidding? He’ll blame it on the kids.

“Is this legal?” Robin whispers as they head back to the cafeteria. “Being armed on school property?”

“I think legality is a bit of a grey area nearing midnight on a Friday night,” Killian whispers back.

Mary Margaret greets them by practically falling into David’s arms and frantically gesturing to the kitchen. The cheerleaders are huddled nearby literally clinging to one another.

“Emma thought it was someone playing a prank,” Mary Margaret tells them, “so she went in there to confront them, and . . . and . . . “

“Is she okay?” Killian asks, immediately alarmed, and pushing past his friends to head for the kitchen.

His friends follow, Mary Margaret still talking in frantic tones. “I don’t know. I heard her shout something at the person, then her flashlight went out, then there was a crash.”

The four of them collide into the salad bar, causing Killian to curse and the cheerleaders to scream.

“I can’t see a damn thing!” Robin mutters

“Where’s my cell phone?” David says, patting at his jeans pockets.

Ruby scurries over with a tiny flashlight bedazzled with red gems and offers it to Killian. He turns it on so they won’t trip over anything else, though its beam is about as powerful as a lightning bug. God, he’s been in the South too long. Next thing he knows, he’ll be saying ya’ll and bless your heart.

The four of them rush into the kitchen with the seventeen-year-old cheerleading captain on their heels, but they all come to a screeching halt to find Emma standing there in the middle of the dark room.

“Emma?” Killian questions.

She turns slowly to him and blinks with a slight shake of her head. Then she looks him up and down, a slow smile filling her face. She doesn’t even acknowledge the rest of their friends behind him.

“Yes?” she asks almost tentatively.

“You’re okay?”

“Never better,” she almost purrs.

Killian deflates, grinning at her flirtatious quip. “Well, you’re depriving me of a dashing rescue, love,” he jokes.

“Emma!” Mary Margaret cries out, flying past the men to grab Emma in a hug, which the blonde awkwardly accepts. “You scared us to death! What were those sounds? Did you find anyone?”

“She’s okay!” Ruby shouts to the other cheerleaders as she runs back out to them. “And nothing weird is in here!”

“Well,” Emma says slowly, looking around her.

Killian tilts his head, something seeming a bit off about her mannerisms. She looks at him again, an arch lifting her brow, and he swallows nervously under her gaze. She walks slowly forward, resting a hand first on Killian’s bicep, then on Robin’s and David’s, appraising each man as if she were admiring sports cars at the dealership.

“Emma?” he says again, a bit worried now.

“Oh, none of you need to worry about me,” she says with a light laugh. “The girls just had overactive imagination after all those ghost stories.”

“But we heard . . . “ Mary Margaret trails off.

Emma shrugs. “The kitchen staff left out some bowls and things. I suppose there was a mouse?”

Mary Margaret sighs and laughs softly at herself. “Of course! I should have thought of that! And the smells were all in our imagination probably.”

Everyone heads out of the kitchen except for Killian, who stops Emma with a hand to her arm. He looks intently into her face, unsure what he’s searching for, but hoping to find an explanation .

“Are you sure you’re okay, Swan?”

“Oh, darling, I haven’t felt this good in years.”

Killian is so confused by the words coming out of his best friend’s mouth, that he barely registers the way Emma trails her fingers across his jaw. That is, until her fingers drift lower to the open vneck of his henley. He startles at the slightly seductive touch and grasps her fingers loosely.

“You seem a bit off, love.”

“Whatever do you mean,” Emma asks with a slow smile as she leans closer, “Killian?”

She saunters past him, her hand trailing across his shoulder as she goes, and Killian for almost a full minute is frozen in place.

“Bloody hell,” he mutters, “did she fall and hit her head?”

**************************************************************

Cora Mills rather likes this body she has inhabited - this Emma Swan. She normally hates thin blondes, but this woman is at least fit. And she’s a grown woman with curves and more mature tastes. The last several she had inhabited were mere girls, and the young men she had seduced hardly a challenge. But Killian Jones . . .

She slinks down into the soft cocoon the others called a sleeping bag, a pleasant smile upon her lips as the lights go out. She had been thrilled to see this room full of possible targets on the one night every ten years when she could re-enter the world of the living. She was even more thrilled when Emma Swan walked into that kitchen, her unspoken love crying out to Cora in delicious agony. And when Cora had laid eyes on the object of Emma Swan’s affections, well - what more could a woman want?

It was a shame his pretty face couldn’t save him from a violent death.

[beeapocalypse]

whats up lads this is long as hell and its abt if lucky (dumbass ncr courier not really courier) was a fo:nv companion under the cut bc i dont want 2 clutter dashes :^)

Affiliation: NCR (May not agree w all of their ideal but hes been treated well enough with them that hes got a loyalty)

Role: NCR sergeant, companion

Location: Around and about the Mojave outpost, typically near knight

Base SPECIAL: S- 5 P- 8 E- 6 C- 7 I- 5 A- 8 L- 2

Tagged skills: Guns, repair, and lockpick

Perks: Confirmed Bachelor (ghhhjsjhdh), Friendly Disposition, (OPTIONAL) Buckeye Brilliance, (OPTIONAL) Hollister History

Lucky can be met at the Mojave outpost in three different locations (the bar sitting near Lucy, patrolling outside near the car scrap, or in the headquarters leaning on Knight’s desk). Where he is encountered will impact the initial dialogue you have with him. 

When in the bar, he’ll remark that he’s got nothing else to do and asks if the courier would be interested in a game of caravan. If refused, he’ll politely wave them off and go back to his drink. This renders it impossible to get him as a companion until he either changes places or a full 24 hours passes. It doesn’t matter if the courier wins or loses the caravan game, it will bring him into the universal dialogue for recruiting him. 

When patrolling, Lucky will cheerfully greet the courier and ask for their help in getting a bit of an engine torn out of a broken up car. This requires passing a repair check of 25, and afterwards he will explain that he’s working on a motorcycle prototype after the last one suffered a ‘tragic accident’ (one of his responses to a further question when asking about himself, Lucky will explain that he accidentally crashed the last prototype into a small Legion patrol, earning him a promotion). If the repair check is failed, it will be rendered impossible to get him as a companion until he either changes places or a full 24 hours passes. If the check is passed, it will bring him into the universal dialogue for recruiting him.

When hanging out with Major Knight, the courier must first speak with Knight (only if they haven’t at all before, if initial dialogue with him is completed Lucky will be available for conversation). Afterwards, Lucky will greet the courier and ask for a favor. Giving them 80 caps and a weathered service rifle, he claims that he accidentally dropped a hunk of metal on it and Knight’s banned him from repairs after he almost blew himself up with a jury rigged engine. If the courier refuses to do the favor, Lucky will claim that he’ll get the ‘pissed looking redhead at the bar’ to do it for him, rendering it impossible to get him as a companion until he either changes places or a full 24 hours passes. If the favor is done,  it will bring him into the universal dialogue for recruiting him.

After any of the three things above are completed, Lucky will be able to be initiated with the dialogue for recruiting him. The courier has a chance to ask him about the slow conditions at the Outpost and his boredom around the place, eventually recommending getting out and about the place. Lucky mentions how he’s been wracking up days off since he’s always at work, and that a word with Ranger Jackson might be able to get a word in for him. Lucky expresses that he would be fine with travelling around with the courier since they seem like the adventuresome sort and has already helped him out. If a speech check of 35 is passed or a barter check of 25 and 100 caps are paid to Ranger Jackson, Lucky will be allowed to leave and accompany the courier.

Companion Perk: Friendly Disposition- Lucky has a smile and a ‘howdy’ for anyone, willing to listen or not. While Lucky is a companion, the player receives a bonus to speech and barter checks.

Companion Perk after Personal Quest (if made sure of violence being a solution): Sergeant Shoot First, Ask Never- Lucky’s seen the value in violence, even if it doesn’t calm the doubt in his heart. Lucky gains a higher damage threshold and deals 20% more damage.

Companion Perk after Personal Quest (if made to see that questioning his faction is fine): Hollister History- Lucky has some tricks of the past that he’s putting to use again, qualms be damned. While Lucky is a companion, the player receives a bonus in V.A.T.S accuracy and limb crippling.

Companion Comments:

Use Melee: “I might have some meat on my bones from workin’, but I don’t think that’s gonna do any good.” “You sure ‘bout that? I’m a mighty good shot, would hate to waste it.”

Use Ranged: “Time to put ol’ Betsy to work then!” “Right, was hopin’ for some target practice.”

Open inventory: “Just keep your hands off of my caravan deck and we’re all good, partner.” [if male courier] “{teasing} Sure hope you ain’t ‘bout to ask me to hold your hand.”

Stay close: “Getting awfully cozy, partner.” [if male courier] “You trying to tell me something here partner? Not that I mind, ‘course.”

Keep distance: “Aw, don’t wanna hear me yap anymore?” “If you wanted me to shut my trap you could’ve just asked.” 

Be Passive: “Hope you know this never lasts long in the Mojave, partner.” “Sure then, gives me time to clean up ol’ Betsy.”

Be Aggressive: “Won’t find me complainin’ ‘bout this!” “I’ve got your back if you’re lookin’ to start trouble.”

Wait here: “Righty-o, I’ll hold this place down tight.” [if male courier] “As long as you make sure to watch your own back, sweetheart.”

Follow me: “I was just about to finish working out some problem in my head and now you come calling?”

Sneaking: “Clever thought. Look where you’re stepping.”

“Let’s travel together”: “Its been getting dull ‘round here, I was missing the life you brought!” [if male courier] “Aw, we headed out for a date? Next you’ll be bringing me broc flowers.”

“Let’s travel together” (already have a companion): “Partner, as much as I love running ‘round with you, its getting a little crowded.”

Leaving companion at the Lucky 38: “You’re going to leave me here? Creepy robot lair with a grudge against the NCR?” 

“I wanted to ask you some questions”: “Alright, I’ve been itching for some chatter.” “Oh, we playing 20 questions?” “Ask away, nothing better than a little conversation to kill the time.”

“Tell me about yourself”: “Who, me? Sergeant Lucky Hollister, spent most of my real life dicking ‘round with broke down car parts at the Outpost. I don’t got any interesting stories, was a caravan kid and wasted time ‘til i enlisted in the NCR.”

“Tell me about yourself” post buckeye brilliance: “I just about spilled all of my guts to you already, partner. A dumb caravan kid who got caught up in some bad shit and enlisted as a last ditch effort for a future. Same old Mojave sob story as any other private.” 

“What do you think of the NCR?”: “Me? The NCR sergeant? Hell, I think they’re great, and that ain’t just the propaganda gettin’ to me. They took me in as a kid and gave me a purpose. Though I suppose they’re wrong on some standings...”

“What do you think of the Legion?”: “I didn’t just enlist to get a new life, I’ll tell you that much. Buncha reeking pigs thinkin’ that they know best, since they’ve got some baldy with a few burnt up books on their side. You know what we’ve got? Actual civilization. None of that football gear and crucifixion horseshit.”

“What do you think of the Legion?” post buckeye brilliance: “I’ve seen how they work, you know that. That shit ain’t pretty, the cult they’ve got for that Caesar. Strips away any humanity that might’ve been in those legionaries at some point. The shit they do to the kids... I’ll be the first to spit on that Caesar fuck’s grave, I’ll tell you that.”

“What do you think of Mister House?”: “A monument of the past that thinks he’s got kickin’ power in the present. The man’s got to learn that this ain’t the pre-war world that he loved and cherished if he wants to help out the Mojave in any way.”

.“What do you know about Benny?”: “Impractical as hell and just as cocky, from what I’ve heard. I’d watch my caps ‘round him if I were you.”

“What do you know about the platinum chip?”: “Pretty as hell, I’ll give it that. I don’t know a damn about what you’re supposed to do with it though. Not play poker?”

Death: “Not... Yet...” “Oh hell, is that... Blood..?”

Trivia and additional information:

Refers to a male courier with terms of endearment such as ‘sweetheart’ and ‘buttercup’ whether or not they’ve got the confirmed bachelor perk. Can be flirted with using confirmed bachelor, making Lucky suddenly bashful at the reciprocation. 

Can have either confirmed bachelor or cherchez la femme used to console him w solidarity when prodded deeper to see what his misgivings w the NCR are (beyond the political corruption, he’ll talk abt how its not all that accepting and him+one of his buddies at the mojave outpost (knight, although he wont out the major) dont agree w it)

Will comment on Boone’s presence if near him as a companion or not (”Well damn! Its a fine pleasure seeing a 1st Recon out here!” “Thank you kindly for all you’ve done, sir. Always got an eye in the sky on our boys because of you.”)

Comments on too high of a reputation with the legion w concern, warning the courier to not get too pulled into things and that its like quicksand (hinting at his buckeye brilliance quest, afterwards he will express more outwards disapproval). 

Will make comments when entering NCR areas such as McCarran or Forlorn hope specific to those areas.

Will warn the courier if he sees them killing NCR soldiers that he won’t stand for it. If the courier continues or gets a low enough reputation with the NCR, Lucky will become hostile.

Wears NCR mantle armor and a rawhide cowboy hat for armor (can wear armor besides his NCR uniform, but not other faction uniforms).

Wields a service rifle and combat knife as his weapons.

Unmarked Quest: Lonely Mojave Knights

This unmarked quest starts when a courier uses Confirmed Bachelor on any character besides Major Knight while Lucky is a companion, or Cherchez La Femme. When dialogue is initiated with him, he makes a joke of them sharing at least one thing besides cooking under the sun in common and then sobers up to mention how he wishes the NCR was as accepting as the rest of the wasteland. When he says that him and one of his friends at the Outpost feel the same, the courier can guess who it is (narrowing it down to Knight with a comment of ‘We always flock together’, if they had seen Lucky with Knight before recruited without the need for any other guessing), until they have to pass a speech check of 20 to tell he is lying when he says it isn’t Knight. 

Lucky mentions how Knight deserves something for his hard work at the Outpost, leaving the courier to offer the suggestion of seeing if they could get him stationed at Vegas for a little bit. If this is taken, the courier must speak with Ranger Jackson and pass a speech check of 25 to get him to agree to Knight’s stationing before they got to speak to him. Knight, surprised by this, thanks the courier and Lucky and will be stationed at Vegas (often standing around with Billy Knight or in the Tops) for a full seven days. As thanks, Lucky will grant the courier the permanent Desert Solidarity perk, increasing the nerve and damage (10% more) of companions of the same gender.

Personal Quest- Buckeye Brilliance

Quest Triggers: Similar to Boone’s own personal quest, there’s actions that can be taken to earn points with Lucky that will go towards triggering his personal quest. Three of these need to be amassed. 

Convince Corporal Betsy to seek the help she needs. +1 point, Lucky will initiate dialogue where he praises the courier’s caring nature and willingness to help out someone they didn’t know much about.

Complete the quest ‘No, Not Much’. +2 points, Lucky will initiate dialogue where he compliments the courier on their willingness to help the camp despite the bad history that has gone down there.

Complete ‘I Forgot to Remember to Forget’, Lucky does not need to be an active companion. +2 points, the next time Lucky is chosen to be an active companion he will initiate dialogue thanking the courier for their actions and that, despite not knowing Boone real well himself, he’s glad they did that for the sniper. +3 points if the courier convinces Boone to make amends with his past. 

Complete any Mojave Outpost quest. +1 point, Lucky will initiate dialogue thanking the courier for looking out for where he was stationed.

After these three points are earned, Lucky will wait a full 24 hours before initiating dialogue with the courier (neutral or good karma is required as well, he will not initiate the dialogue with an evil courier and instead remain silent until a higher karma is achieved). He compliments them on their caring nature that he’s seen while travelling with them, as well as their willingness to look past the bad to see the good in people. 

Quest Description: Lucky requests that the courier comes with him to an outpost in the middle of nowhere, not specifying who’s there or for what reason besides that he wants to talk to them about his past there. The courier can refuse to do so on the grounds of being busy, causing Lucky to not mention it until another full 24 hours later. If the quest is put off three times, Lucky will comment on how it seems the courier doesn’t have time for much of anything and drop the subject. This will result in the quest being failed. 

If the courier agrees to listen to Lucky, he will mark the outpost, titled ‘Lucky’s Lookout’, on their map and admit that isn’t the real name of the outpost. The quest maker itself leads to a hill a small distance away from Lucky’s Lookout, not the outpost itself, and the courier must go there to further the quest.

Built in a defensive position covered by the nearby hills (sort of like the gully where there’s a bunch of radscorpions, cannot remember the name of it), it is impossible to clearly distinguish what type of outpost it is until the courier crests the hill that the quest marker is on. Lucky allows the courier a few moments of looking upon the legion camp, complete with a few crucifixes and a bonfire (he gives them binoculars wordlessly, adding them to the courier’s inventory), before starting to speak without initiating dialogue. 

Lucky: “Not the place you were expectin’, is it? It ain’t pretty. Brings up a whole lot of bad memories, I’ll tell you that.”

(Here, he will initiate dialogue with the courier)

Lucky: “I told you I enlisted with the NCR to get a new start, didn’t I? The wording might not be right, but the statement is. You’re looking at the old start right now.”

The courier is given options to question what Lucky means, leading to him revealing that, as a teenager, he ran from his family because of his shitty father and ended up stumbling directly into a legion patrol. Because of his attitude and determination (pointing the pistol he had managed to smuggle with him at one of the patrol without backing down when threatened), he was taken in. Lucky tells of how this all happened near where he was born, Buckeye, Arizona, and that he would’ve stayed there most likely if the conflict between the NCR and the Legion hadn’t started. 

He was trained how to be a legionnaire and sent off to the outpost he had led the courier to with a few conflicts already under his belt. Despite his older than typical age those stationed there saw a chance to use him as they would a child (like the child used against Ranger Andy). Lucky was sent, dressed in scavenger clothing, to where it was known there was a small patrol of NCR soldiers and tasked with leading them into an ambush through deceit and lying. Instead, he spilled out the truth to the first soldier he came across, one Captain Wallace (who can be found at the NCR checkpoint near Nelson and will comment on the presence of Lucky if he is a companion), and was taken in for questioning. 

Because of Captain Wallace standing up for him, Lucky was let off of an execution after telling all he could about the Legion. It was Wallace who extended the offer of enlistment and a new future to Lucky (while not mentioned by Lucky, speaking with Wallace shows that he acted much like a father figure to the young man as he settled into the NCR and his comments to Lucky when encountered show that).

After telling his story, Lucky will remain silent for a moment before saying that he’s been wanting to tell someone that for a while now and that he appreciates the courier’s listening. More questions can be asked to clarify parts of the story (such as his age, what he had done before being sent away from Buckeye, what it was like as a caravan kid), before the end of dialogue is met with a choice. Lucky will state that he feels as if he isn’t truly worthy of his rank or position in the NCR since he was Legion for a little whiles. While he wants to believe in the NCR, there are things that he disagrees with and that makes him think that the Legion had a bigger impact on him than he thought. 

Outcomes: The courier can either suggest that, since they’re already there, that the two of them might as well get some good old fashioned revenge. They brush off his concerns with stating that all he really needs is to kill off the bad of his past. Or, they can instead console him on his past and tell him that the NCR and the Legion isn’t a black and white issue, and that he’s just seeing the grey of what he’s aligned himself with. 

If the choice to lead to the slaughter of the outpost is made, Lucky will afterwards thank the courier for listening to him and his story. Although, he will comment that the blood and death didn’t make him feel that much better. The courier can either assure him that enough of it will, or brush it off. Either choice will lead to the same end of him becoming resolute in violence being the solution to complicated troubles and will earn the Sergeant Shoot First, Ask Never perk for himself.

If the choice to console him is made, Lucky will agree with the courier and say that he’s got a lot of thinking to do. This makes him more introspective of his past and his current alignments, earning him the Hollister History perk.

Endings

Convincing Lucky to be critical of the NCR [Eureka!]: As his fellow soldiers celebrated and tossed their covers in the air over the defeat of the Legion, lone sergeant Hollister harbored doubt in his heart and a burning in his gut. As the Republic established a firmer grip in the Mojave, Lucky slipped off from his post unnoticed and unremembered, disappearing into the heart of the desert.

Convincing Lucky that violence is a solution [Eureka!]: The NCR celebrated, and Lucky celebrated right alongside them. He redoubled his efforts to bring something special and new to the Republic that had taken him under his wing, seen by the men of his Outpost with a cheerful smile as he headed out for scrap that wasn’t so readily available. The sergeant was not seen again.

Convincing Lucky to be critical of the NCR [No Gods, No Masters]: The withdrawal of the NCR was a bitter thing to celebrate, but celebrate the ex-sergeant did. He never reported back to his commanding officer after the Battle of Hoover Dam, instead finding an unexpected joy in Freeside as a repairman. His days of soldiering and battle were put behind him.

Convincing Lucky that violence is a solution [No Gods, No Master OR All or Nothing]: Where others were celebrating, sergeant Lucky Hollister was polishing up his gun with a bitter burning. When he had pledged his allegiance to the courier, it was without thought. As the NCR began to trickle away, a new mercenary joined the streets of Freeside. 

Convincing Lucky to be critical of the NCR [Vendi, Vidi, Vici]: More a talker and tinkerer than an actual soldier, Lucky was left without much choice in the ruling state of the Legion than to call upon his past roots within. He remembered the codes of conduct and complexities of Buckeye, using his knowledge to get with a Legion caravan as a guard despite the dislike he carried still.

Convincing Lucky that violence is a solution [Vendi, Vidi, Vici]: While Lucky had reached the rank of sergeant through flukes and luck, he still had the knowledge of how to shoot and maintain a gun. Still wearing the NCR armor that had been his pride and joy, the man took up a short lived yet deadly campaign against the Legion. Striking from shadows with jury rigged silencers and living off of the lands, he eventually pawned off all but one of his bullets to afford as much whiskey as he could, and did the only thing that he thought could free him.

Lucky dies: No number of good natured smiles and polite greetings could keep the Mojave from chewing up and spitting out Lucky. He was quickly forgotten, not even a footnote in the history of the NCR despite the dreams he had carried for it.