1400 words in... natejo wip excerpt for all you fine folks
seen from Philippines
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seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom
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seen from Poland
seen from United States
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seen from United States
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1400 words in... natejo wip excerpt for all you fine folks
Which?
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Something else
(Button exclusively for me, if anyone else presses it I’ll come for you)
If something else, please put suggestions in the comments / tags, I’d love to hear it
Work in Progress Wednesday
Thank you to CSMM Discord and @hollyethecurious wonderful idea of a Feed Your WIPs February. So I am currently working on the final part of Its a brand new day, (it's never too late to start) that was part of my contribution for @csrolereversal last year with the lovely @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713.’s lovely aesthetic. I think I am almost done so with any luck this will be dropping on Valentine’s day.
“But if you do have a secret admirer, all you have to do is have someone watch the door and see who they catch outside. That’s how all the cop shows do it.” He declares. “You can call it Operation Valentine.”
He shakes his head. It seems ridiculous, having his own apartment staked out for this mysterious admirer? That was going too far.
“Who would I even have to watch the place?” He asks, not at all considering it.
“Emma tells me that she pays local neighbors when she has to leave stake outs, why don’t you ask her what to do?” Henry asks.
“Yeah Killian.” Belle says pointedly. She’s still smirking at him like he’s supposed to know something that he clearly does not. “Ask Emma if she could possibly know how to catch your super secret admirer.”
CS Fic Rec Monday: “The Art of Summoning” by: @swanslieutenant
This WIP first posted during the @csseptembersunshine event, and I was immediately captured by it. I love @swanslieutenant‘s whole unique concept; it’s a plot I haven’t seen done before - and a gripping one at that. I love how she explores Emma working with her magic, how she is able to focus on what she and Killian need rather than whatever other danger or drama is happening in SB, and I love the cliffie she left us on. Not that I don’t look forward to the resolution (I’ve loved everything by @swanslieutenant I’ve ever read, so I know it will be good!) but I enjoy a good intense “To be continued...” that leaves me dying to know where the author will take it next. Don’t miss it!
“The Art of Summoning” by: @swanslieutenant
Guerrilla Radio : )
Mmmm. This one I’m actually thinking about turning into something not fanfiction one day, but who the hell knows, so here’s my summary because I don’t have a ton written.
Killian Jones (aka “Captain Hook”) is the dj for a (literally) roaming guerrilla radio station, “Neverland Radio.” He reads fairy tales on air (as well as plays music) that are actually coded messages and information for a group of rebels fighting the “Evil Queen.” Emma Swan, and her son, Henry, stumble across the station late one night, and over a couple of weeks, Henry figures out what’s going on. In trying to prove to his mother that the stories and what’s going on in their world is real, they show up at the next place the rebels are going to be and wind up getting drawn into the rebellion themselves. Henry helps Killian with the code book/stories, Emma interrogates prisoners and spies thanks to her ability to suss out lies.
At some point, the EQ realizes that Henry is the key to the code the rebels are using to communicate and kidnaps him, leaving Killian unconscious. Now the rebellion must save Henry and bring down the EQ once and for all.
I loved Rage Against the Machine back in the day and the chance to song fic Guerrilla Radio was too tempting.
Stone Hearts
A Captain Swan Fanfiction
Chapter 1/15
Alright, here goes. My first attempt at a multi chapter fic.
Rated high M low E (For language, violence and eventually smut)
Cannon Divergent after 5x21 Last Rites. No Hyde. No serum. No Evil Queen split. No prophecy. No season 6.
Summary: Emma should have known. She should have known that they couldn’t just go to the underworld and not suffer any consequences. She should have known they’d bring something back with them.
ao3 ff
***
Fuck the underworld. Seriously, fuck Hades and his unfinished business and his lost souls and his monsters. Fuck it all. And while you’re at it fuck magic, and fairy tales and promises of happy endings. And most of all, fuck hope. Hope was the worst of it.
When Emma was a little girl she’d grown up on stories of hope, let herself believe that one day she would find happiness, that her family would find her and they would love her and she would finally have a home. As she grew older she’d hardened to the reality of the world, come to realize that hope was nothing but a cruel lie put in place to set you up for heartbreak and disappointment. So she’d given up on hope. She’d accepted that this was her life at it was as good as it was going to get. Nobody was coming for her and for a long time she was okay with that. Maybe not happy, but she’d found a level of satisfaction that she could live with. She had a good job, a nice apartment and the occasional one night stand to fill the dull ache inside of her for a night when it became too much to bear.
But then one day, a ten year old boy in a pea coat with hope spilling out of his ears showed up at her door and turned her world upside down. She’d fought it for a long time but eventually his tenacity had wormed its way into her heart and left just enough room for hope to be smuggled in. And just like that she’d begun to believe again. She’d found her family and a home and the hope had grown and she’d truly believed that just maybe, maybe, she could have her happy ending.
And then she’d met Killian. Loyal, passionate, understanding, steadfast, beautiful, frustrating, Killian. He had never been short on belief – not when it came to her. While Henry may have wormed his way into her heart, Killian fought his way in, scaling walls a mile high and breaking down the door until she finally, truly believed that she could have a happy ending, and love. And not only that she could have it, but that she deserved it. And she’d gotten it. With him and Henry – and their whole weird family tree – she’d gotten her happy ending. Despite all the monsters and villains and deaths that they faced, Emma never gave up hope that they would defeat them. Together.
And they’d been happy. For six months. Six months after she had gone to literal hell to get her true love back. Six months of peace, of no villains or monsters or catastrophes. Of no Grumpy running and shouting, interrupting intimate moments. Just love and happiness and normality and hope.
And then it had all come crashing down.
Emma should have known. She should have known that things could never have been so calm in a place like Storybrooke. She should have known that during those six months the latest bad guy of the week had been lying in wait, plotting. She should have known that they couldn’t just go to the underworld and not suffer any consequences. She should have known they’d bring something back with them. She should have known because she wasn’t from some mystical land like her parents were. She was from the real world where life always screws you over right when you’re at your happiest. It had done it her whole life and she should have known it would do it again. People like her didn’t get happy endings and if she hadn’t been so wrapped up in fucking hope she would have seen it coming.
So yeah. Fuck hope. Hope is how she ended up here, in a hastily made camp in the ruins of what used to be the library with the only three people she cared about still left. Maybe camp was an overstatement. Really all it was was a rucksack each, filled with a change of clothes, some food and a memento or two they couldn’t bear leaving behind, a camping stove and the odd pot, and as many weapons as they could find or fashion. It was just a place to sleep really. To hide for a few days until it got too risky and they had to move again.
Emma sat, watching Henry eat some kind of cold seafood out of a can with his fingers, her hand on the knife at her hip. Her eyes kept darting between him and the broken table-top they had used to block off the little shelter they’d built between some bookcases and the stairs to the clock tower should they need to stand their ground and fight. Guilt washed over her as she took in his ripped up shirt and jeans. His coat was getting too small for him at the rate he’s was growing and he was forced to wear it draped over his shoulders against the chill of the night. She should have taken him out of here when this had all started. But she’d let him convince her with his speeches about heroism and doing the right thing and being the savior and she’d kept them in Storybrooke until it was too late and the town line once again became a prison. He was too young to be living like this, facing these hardships, watching the people he loved be picked off one by one. She couldn’t save any of them now. She should have saved him.
She jumped when she heard footsteps on the other side of the entrance, knife out in a second. Henry was on his feet with the gun she’d had to teach him how to shoot at fourteen years old held at the ready, canned food forgotten at his feet. He shouldn’t have to live like this.
“It’s just us,” came David’s voice from the other side. Neither of them dropped their weapons as the makeshift door slid open and David and Ruby walked in.
“Shut the door and drop your weapons,” Henry commanded once they were in view. His hand was steady on the gun and Emma’s heart lurched at the sight.
Ruby and David did as they were told, replacing the wood slate then dropping the sacks they had been carrying on the ground before getting to work divesting themselves of their weapons. David had his sword and two guns – one in his holster and one in the back of his pants. Ruby had a bow, and a quiver of arrows, a small dagger and, well, the wolf thing. Once the weapons had clattered to the ground Henry spoke again.
“Okay, Mom, go ahead, I’ve got them,” he said, gun still fixed on his family.
“Right.” Emma put her knife back in her belt and made her way over to them, arms outstretched. Both winced in anticipation as she took a deep breath before plunging a hand into each of their chests. Ruby let out a gasp and David grunted in pain as she ripped their hearts out of their bodies.
“Fuck!”
“You’d think it would hurt less each time but nope,” Ruby said. “Each time’s as bad as the last.”
Emma took a look at the hearts, both bright red and semi-translucent, not a spec of stone to be seen. “They’re clear,” she told her son over her shoulder and he finally lowered his weapon. Then, with little ceremony she shoved both hearts back into their respective chests.
“Hurts just as bad going back in,” David said with a smirk at Ruby.
“Yeah, must be nice to have non-removable hearts,” she joked, looking at Emma and Henry.
“Grandpa!” Henry practically threw himself at David, knocking the wind out of him but David didn’t falter, wrapping his grandson in his arms and squeezing tight. “Sorry about the gun.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he said, taking Henry’s face in his hands. “I’d have my heart ripped out a million times and have a gun pointed at me just as often if it means keeping you and your mom safe. So don’t you ever be sorry, you hear me?” Henry nodded.
“Feels like it’s coming up on a million times,” Ruby said mirthfully, rubbing her chest before getting her own hug from Henry.
Emma just watched them, picking up the bags her father and her friend had dropped.
“We didn’t get much,” David said, bending down to help her. “The store’s on a constant watch now and we didn’t want to risk going more than a few blocks with the patrol as heavy as it is.”
Emma shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. We need to move again. Tonight.”
“What? Why?” Ruby demanded.
“Henry noticed them hovering.”
All eyes turned to Henry. “It’s true. There was a group of them… Archie, Jefferson and Ashley. They were straying from the usual patrol, coming closer and closer to the library and sticking around a little too long,” he explained.
“Point is they’re on to us so we need to pack up our stuff and get out of here. I’ve been saying for weeks that we need to get to the woods,” Emma grumbled, dividing the newly procured food equally between the rucksacks (Maybe she gave a little extra to Henry but nobody was going to say anything about that).
“They have the border to the woods surrounded,” Ruby reminded them.
“Yeah. So we just need to get in and then as long as we keep moving they’ll have a harder time finding us,” Emma retorted.
“Emma,” David started gently, “getting in and out for food and supplies will be more dangerous if –”
“Then we hunt!” Emma snapped. “Get your stuff together. We need to go now while we have darkness on our side and –”
“Well, well, well, isn’t this sweet.”
Four heads snapped to the entrance of the shelter where Snow White stood, leaning against the bookcase, her voice taunting. In her hands was the sheriff’s riffle. It looked out of place where a bow usually belonged.
Four sets of hands reached for their weapons but Snow was quicker, her rifle raised and pointed at David before he could get his off the floor.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Snow chastised, nodding at Emma’s raised hands. “You reign in your magic or I’ll blow Daddy’s brains right out of his charming little head. Think you can get me before I pull the trigger?” Emma narrowed her eyes, hatred for this thing that had become her mother seething out of her. Snow smiled and it made her stomach turn. “Want to try?” Emma waited a beat. She glanced at David, who looked at her over his shoulder, the gun an inch away from his nose. He nodded his head, a silent conversation passing between them quick enough for nobody else to notices it and she held her hands up in surrender.
“Ruby, Henry, drop your weapons.”
“Good girl,” Snow said. “Now –” In a flash David had knocked the riffle out of Snow’s hands, catching it and whipping it around to smash the side of her head with the butt. Snow crumpled to the floor.
David knelt beside his unconscious wife, brushing the hair off her forehead, wincing a bit at the blood that matted it. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered, caressing her cheek with his thumb.
“Grandma,” Henry started taking a step towards them but Emma stopped him, throwing a hand out.
“Stay away from her, Henry!” she warned, her tone leaving no room for argument. She took a deep breath, steading herself for what she knew they had to do, what she knew no one else had the guts to say. Fuck hope. “We need to kill her.”
“Emma!” Ruby shouted at the same time as Henry shouted “Mom!”
“She’s your mother!” David insisted, subtlety shifting so that he was blocking Snow from Emma’s view and reach.
“No she’s not! We know she’s not! None of them are anymore!”
“Mom –”
“No, Henry. We tried. We spent months trying to get them back. How many spell books did we pour through? How many of them did we try to get through to? We have to face it. None of them are coming back. Not Snow.” She looked at David, who squared his shoulders. “Not Granny.” Ruby looked at the floor, avoiding her gaze. “Not –” She couldn’t say it. Couldn’t bring herself to say his name.
Henry’s hand came around her shoulders. “Mom… we don’t know that he –”
“They’re gone okay. All of them. We have to accept that.” She forced David to meet her gaze, eyes imploring. “Whoever that is, it’s not Mom. We have to get rid of it so that it doesn’t tell him where we are.”
David stood, his face sympathetic but there was a resolve in the set of his shoulders. He came over to his daughter and took hold of her shoulders. “Emma, I know you’re hurting. We’re all hurting. And if you think for one second that I don’t hate that thing they turned the woman I loved into then you don’t know me at all. But if there’s one thing this family has, it’s hope.” Emma scoffed. “Your mother would never give up on us and we can’t give up on her. I know she’s in there somewhere and I have to find her. That’s what this family does. We find each other. We just have to have hope.”
Emma raised her eyes to his, holding his gaze and glowering. “Fuck hope,” she said, breaking away from his grasp, but not before she saw his eyes close in dismay as he hung his head.
“We’re not killing her,” he said firmly.
“Then what do you suggest we do?” Emma shouted, anger and frustration and exasperation wearing her down. She was so tired of living like this.
“We could question her,” Henry piped up beside her. All heads turned towards him. “Tie her up, keep her prisoner. Maybe she has information that can help us.”
“Henry,” Emma sighed, softer but still exhausted. “We’ve tried that, they don’t give up anything.”
“What about true love’s kiss? It’s the most powerful magic in the world!” he said his voice full of hope and Emma hated to crush it but she had to.
“It won’t work, kid. They don’t feel anything, they don’t care about anything. All they are is puppets, loyal to him.”
“It’s worth a try,” David said. “We haven’t had a true love come back to any of us… that we know of.”
“I’m telling you it won’t work!” Emma insisted. “They have to love you back!” David bit his lip, fist clenching at the harsh words.
“Well it’s better than killing her!” Henry barked at before turning and stomping off up to the tower.
“Henry…” Emma called after him.
“Let him go,” David said.
“He has a point,” Ruby spoke. “Look I know we’ve tried before but what else can we do with her? We can try the kiss and if it doesn’t work we might as well see if we can get some information.” Emma still hesitated. “Do you really think killing Henry’s grandmother in front of him is a good idea?” Ruby argued.
Emma sank down on a step, her head heavy between her hands. She was silent for a long time. “Fine. It’s your funeral.”
David and Ruby set to work, the latter tearing strips out of an old shirt with too many holes in it to use as bindings as David gingerly lifted Snow and placed her still unresponsive body into the chair Henry had been occupying earlier. Once she was securely tied and relieved of all the weapons they could find on her, all they could do was wait.
It was nearly an hour before they heard a soft groan coming from the corner of the room. A look was passed between the three of them, David finally making the first move and walking cautiously over to the petite brunette.
“Snow?” her only answer was another groan but after a minute she raised her eyes to the group. In her gaze was exactly what Emma knew they would find: nothing. Cold, emptiness staring back at them through the shell that was her mother. “Do you know who I am?” David asked.
“Sure I do. You’re Prince Charming,” she spat sarcastically. “They told me all about you and the savior,” she sneered.
“You don’t know who we are to you, do you?” David said and Emma could hear the heartbreak in his voice. This is why this was a bad idea. This woman may look like Snow but she wasn’t the woman her father fell in love with and she didn’t have any shred of love for them or memory of them. Snow just looked at him blankly, uncaring. David let out a shaky breath and looked at his wife. Despite everything, Emma could still see the love he held for her pouring out of him as he spoke. “We’ve been here before you know,” he chuckled soflty. “I know you don’t remember me, but I can make you.”
Emma stumbled back as though she’d been hit. The words, a perfect echo of the ones that had been spoken to her so long ago, like a knife to her heart as a sea of memories flooded her. An apartment in New York. A knock at the door. A familiar stranger. A kiss. Emma had to turn away, tears welling up in her eyes as she watched her father lean in and kiss a woman who didn’t know who he was anymore.
She heard David cry out and whirled around to see him holding a hand to his bleeding lip. Snow sat glaring daggers at him. When his shock wore off David stood, chuckling. “I know you’re still in there.”
“Enough of this!” Emma stalked over, bracing her hands on the arms of the chair and looming over Snow. “Why is he doing this? How is he doing this?” Snow just glared at her, mouth shut. “ANSWER ME!” Emma shouted. She was done with this. Done with pretending things weren’t as bad as they were to appease everyone else, sick of playing along with their vain belief that things would get better. This was their life now. There were four of them left in the whole damn town. It was going to be like this until they found him and killed him and even then it might not get better. She was done believing they would beat this new baddie and get everyone back. They were gone. All of them were gone.
Killian was gone.
It was the first time she’d let herself admit it. She’d gone to hell for him and it had only bought them six fucking months before he was taken away again. And she was done. She wanted this guy stopped. She wanted him dead and then she wanted to get her kid and get the hell out of Storybrooke and she wanted to leave it and all the monsters still inside of it burning in her rear-view mirror.
Snow didn’t answer. But she smirked. She fucking smirked and Emma lost it. Pushing herself back she let all the anger and the hate rush through her. She remembered her time as the dark one, remembered the feeling of dark magic singing in her veins. Magic is feeling. And right now she was feeling a hell of a lot more than she’d let herself feel in the last few months. Focusing on Snow she watched as the woman started to gasp for air and it only fueled her rage.
“Emma!” She could hear Ruby and David but it sounded far away, muted by the dull throbbing of blood and power rushing in her ears.
“Where is he?”
She could see the life draining out of the woman, her mouth moving, trying to form sentences, and she concentrated harder. She felt David’s hand on her arm but she ignored it, consumed by her own magic, by the darkness.
“Mom!” The sound cut through the thick fog, snapping her out of her daze as she looked up to see Henry looking panicked as he ran down the stairs.
Snow gasped, heaving large gulps of air, coughing and laughing at the same time. The laugh brought Emma’s attention back to her. “You’ll find out soon enough,” Snow promised. Emma frowned.
“Mom! David! Ruby! They’re coming! They found us!”
Panic rushed through Emma. Heart racing and adrenaline replacing the magic that had been running through her veins. It was a trap. Of course it was a trap! They wouldn’t have sent her alone. She wouldn’t have gone in alone! They didn’t think like that! Stupid, stupid, Emma!
“Ruby!” The brunette faced her, serious and ready for orders. “Take Henry. Go wolf and get the hell out of here. Get as far as you can and keep him safe.”
Ruby nodded solemnly and took off her red cape.
“No, Mom! I want to stay with you!” Henry cried, sounding younger than he had in a long time.
“Henry, go!” Emma ordered, picking up a gun and tossing it to David. “We’ll hold them off as long as we can. Go with Ruby. Now!”
“But, Mom,” Henry was near tears.
“I’ll find you, Henry,” she promised. She made herself believe it so that he would. “Go.”
Henry backed away, not breaking her gaze as he picked up his and Ruby’s packs and climbed on the giant wolf’s back. They disappeared into the night.
Emma wasn’t sure what happened next. There was a sound, an explosion, louder than anything she’d ever heard before and a blinding light. One minute she was standing, hands raised ready to fight and the next she was on the ground, ears ringing. She lifted her head, a sharp pain shooting through it. “David?” she asked. Her voice sounded muffled and distant to her own ears. She finally saw him, lying unconscious under a bookshelf. His face was cut, his eye turning a purplish-red. Slowly, painfully she started to drag herself over to him through the debris and smoke and dust that filled the room. Every muscle in her body protested as she moved and she could feel a wet pain in her leg that was both cold and burning.
The click of heels echoed across the library floor as a pair of black boots emerged from the fog. They stopped beside her arm and one lifted to kick her over onto her back. Emma groaned in pain as she rolled, coming face to face with Regina standing over her. The woman turned to address someone behind her.
“Tell him we found her.”
And Emma could swear she saw a flash of leather and metal before the darkness overtook her.
----
So there it is! First chapter’s a bit short because I’m nervous but hopefully the next ones will be longer! Hope you guys like it!
Casa de Cais?
Ok, so as I mentioned, this was something that @wingedlioness and I cooked up (lol) a while ago and never got back to. The best part about it was coming up with the menu.
Here’s the summary: Killian as gourmet grilled cheese chef, Emma as prickly “gimme plain PLAIN grilled cheese” private investigator.
Here’s a snippet that is likely a combo of both of our writing.
The October sky was painted in broad strokes of purple, orange, and gold as the sun sat low on the horizon. Choppy ripples rolled toward shore, the reflection of the sunset making the ocean look like a Monet brought to life. Emma couldn’t deny the beauty of her surroundings, but she felt more alone than ever. Just before the sun dipped beneath the horizon, the last of its light flaring out from its center, Emma made a birthday wish. She felt a little silly, but no one had to know.
Her stomach growled.
Emma continued down the boardwalk until she reached the end where the restaurant she was looking for sat on the corner with the best view of the water she’d seen yet. She was expecting a greasy spoon kind of diner—what she found was not that.
The fancy script on the door that belonged more to an upscale French bistro than a grilled cheese place read “Casa de Cais.” She had no fucking clue what that meant, but she was pretty sure it didn’t mean “grilled cheese.”
Here are just two of the monthly special items we came up with (there are way more where this came from...): October— The Evil Queen (macintosh apples, sharp cheddar, caramelized onions on dark rye) / Trick or Treat (pumpkin butter/chocolate/brie on french bread)
November— Thanksgiving Dinner grilled cheese (carved turkey, cranberry mayo, wisconsin brie on bulkie roll) / apple, honey, and brie on baquette
And now, I shall crave gourmet grilled cheese for the rest of the day.
Gonna break the rules (because i suck at them) and beg for a twofer: Murphy's Law, and if you're feeling generous Hydroplaning
I’m all good with rule breaking. :)
So, Murphy’s Law is based on the other prompt @lala-kate sent me so long ago (I am SO sorry). The prompt was: I invited you here to get my parents to hate you, not to get them to invite you back for future dinner parties.
Here’s a snippet:
As much as it pained Emma, she was going to have to deceive her mother. If Emma had learned one thing about Mary Margaret, it was that she could be persistent in matters of the heart. It was probably the reason she was eventually reunited with her parents, and she was grateful for that, but in this case, she didn’t want to talk about it. Ever. Sure, the whole fake-dating thing could work for a day, but then she’d just have to lie again about a fake break up. What could be more final and explicit about Emma and relationships than breaking up in front of her mother in an epic fight? And then maybe Mary Margaret would finally be too horrified to ever bring up the topic again.
Emma had no intention of bringing someone along she actually liked, not that there was such a person in her life at the moment. She’d rather not have to act too much, so bringing someone annoying who incessantly provoked her was obviously the way to go. Someone she could easily pick a fight with, ending in a final, relationship-destroying argument. Someone she wouldn’t have to worry she’d really hurt.
The solution to her dilemma was obvious. Killian Jones. Just the image of him in her head made her blood pressure rise.
Killian was a colleague of sorts. Emma, as a bail bonds person, was always dealing with the dregs of society—cowards, cheats, and liars. Killian was a public defender and a few of his clients were among the bail skips Emma tracked down, caught, and brought back to court. She had mixed feelings about public defenders. On the one hand, they were needed, and in some cases, they were better than no representation at all. On the other hand, they could be ineffectual. And in her experience, detrimental.
Jones’ reputation as a womanizer eclipsed that of his skill as a lawyer, which was saying something—he was one of the better public defenders. Still, she wasn’t surprised at the rumors that swirled around him in and out of the courtroom. He was suave, smart, handsome, and more than a bit cocky. And she couldn’t stand him.
He was perfect.
And “Hydroplaning” is my season 6 canon divergent way of separating Killian and Emma rather than the stupid way it went. I still want to write this because I made Killian part of Nemo’s crew and I want all the Hook & Nemo bonding. Here’s a taste of Hydroplaning:
Killian careened into the wooden floor, shoulder first, as he was tossed, still sleeping, from his bunk. Pain radiated down his arm, ended abruptly at his stump and then coursed back up to his head, which was going to have a nasty knot after having made the floor’s acquaintance as well. The book he’d been reading followed along, the spine of it hitting him in the temple, punctuating the ache blooming behind his eyes. He blinked, grimacing, and with a groan, tossed the book aside. I’ve got to get home, he thought, groggy and out-of-sorts, but his heart racing with an urgency he was sure had nothing to do with his current predicament. He tried to right himself, but the room tipped and rolled again, sending him and the book sliding toward the hatch end of the cabin.
A red light began to flash and the dive alarm blared—a little late as far as Killian was concerned—reverberating throughout the small room and his head, driving away all out-of-place notions of an unfamiliar home from troubled dreams.
“Bloody hell!” he muttered, grabbing onto the leg of the bottom bunk before he completely slid past it. He could see his hook and brace hanging from where he stowed it, completely useless to him. He braced his forearm against the floor and tried to pull closer in an attempt to retrieve it, but the ship lurched, and it was all Killian could do not to pitch about the room himself.
The Nautilus was in a steep dive through a portal to who knew where. This wasn’t the Nautilus heading toward the bottom of the sea in a hurry to avoid other ships or sea creatures; Killian could tell by the bright-blue, pulsating glow coming from the porthole near his bunk. They hadn’t discussed going to any new realms, and even if he were sleeping, as co-Captain, he would have been notified. He knew he needed to get to the engine room to help Nemo and his brother, who were currently on duty. If something happened to Nemo they were going to need Killian to take command. Looking over his shoulder, he could see the hatch was still sealed. That was good. Tumbling through the door and down the hall would be more unpleasant than what he was about to do and he hardly looked forward to that either. Bracing himself, he let go of the leg of his bunk and slid the rest of the way down the floor until he slammed into the metal door separating him from the rest of the submersible.
Thanks for playing my WIP game! Maybe one day some of these won’t be WIPs. I still like so many of the ideas. Sigh...