"𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒅𝒖𝒄𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑺𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒆?"
"𝑨𝒄𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒆𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒅. 𝑨𝒍𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉, 𝑰'𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒆."
★☆★
Selene Cresent was rumoured to be the product of the Godess of the moon...
𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑻𝑶𝑾𝑵 was dangerously dim, the light being consumed by the persistent darkness as drunken imbeciles stumbled the streets. Pirate ships alined the docks, whilst the fellow pirates made a rumage of the taverns across town.
The cresent moon glistened in the nights sky, whilst another cresent roamed the streets, camouflaging herself with a cloak blacker than black itself, black leather pants, paired with black leather boots.
Selene Cresent's eye's scowered across the tarven before her, tempting whether to enter or not. She was sure to be recognised by the pirates, but that was nothing she could not handle. She rolled her eyes, almost at herself for even considering not going in at the risk of being noticed. She had nothing to be scared of.
The door of the tarven swinging open did not seem to bother the men that seemed to take up entirety of the small place.
Selene removed her hood, planting herself onto a stool at the bar, a small smile being thrown towards the barmaiden before her.
"What can I get for ya, hun," The badmaiden asked, her hands occupying a beer stein and a rag, drying out the previously used ceramic object.
"Rum, please," She answered, manerly, something the woman probably had heard very few times tonight, other than off of flirty pirates that had no use for manners other than in an attempt to use their charm.
The barmaiden said no more before getting to work. She grabbed a clean beer stein, grasping a bottle of rum from beneth the counter and pouring the alcoholic beverage into the stein. She slid it across the counter to Selene.
"Thank you."
"Your the first woman to step foot in here tonight, hun. I'd advise you beware of the greedy men about to stumble your way," The barmaiden warned.
"They can try, but the fate they will endure will not be pleasant, ...." Selene left her sentence unfinished, giving the barmaiden a questioning glance as she waited for her to provide her name.
"Stella," She answered promptly.
"Stella," Selene repeated, finishing her previous sentence now that she had the missing piece of the puzzle. "I can assure you of that."
"I'd hope so, hun," Stella replied before moving away from Selene to the end of the wooden, handmade bar, serving another customer.
"I'd like to see what 'unpleasant fate' I would be to endure if I come your way, M'lady," Selene curiously wandered her sight towards the sudden voice that had erupted beside her.
A smirk crept across her lips at the sight of a familiar, flirty grin. A humorous laugh exited her throat, "Well, well, well, if it isn't Captian Hook. Not surprised to see you in here, Jones."
"Yet, I am surprised to see you here, Cresent," Killian Jones retaliated, finding comfort in the stool beside Selene, his elbows finding a home on the bar as his head rested against his hand.
"Did you expect me to be in hiding? It's hilarious you believe I care about idiots like you being on the hunt for me. And the fact you wholeheartedly believe you can disasemble my magic is humorous," Selene snickered, slugging her drink back until she could taste the wretched alcohol in her throat. The taste did not seem to faze her in the slightest.
"The fact you underestimate me is humorous, Love," Killian smirked, his cold metal hook connecting with her necklace. He dragged her foward by it, yet Selene's expression was unreadable — blank.
"I don't underestimate you, I know exactly what you are capable of, I just know that deep down you have no idea how to disasemble my magic, and you truly don't even need it," Hook quirked an eyebrow at her.
"Hm, I suppose you're right, M'Lady, although, you are in some use to me, but that's voluntary," Killian flashed his usual, devious grin, winking at an unfazed Selene.
Selene scrunched her nose up, "On a real note here, Jones; What do you need me for, and what will I get in return for my tremendous help."
"Help me retrieve the scroll from the Isle of The Lost."
"The Isle of the Lost? That burned down centuries ago. The only people who would have their hands on that would be Medusa, The Dark One, or Peter Pan. I don't particularly fancy a trip to Neverland."
"Aye, believe me, neither do I. Last time was far from a dream," Hook replied, reminiscing the memories of Neverland. They were not pleasent.
"Indeed," Selene agreed. "Although, that's when we were friends."
"Good times that was," Hook removed his hook from her necklace.
"Until you dried to drown me," Selene scoffed, the reminder of the event angering her.
"You tried to kill me first," Hook retaliated, his anger now surfacing.
"That was Pan," Selene argued.
"You know, I don't care. Will you help me or not?" He asked, his eyes meeting Selene's considering ones.
"Again, what's my benefits?"
"Whatever you please."
"Buy me a drink."
"As you wish," Hook extended his hand, interlinking Selene's in a handshake. A mutal expression of a deal.
Hook raised his hand, clicking his fingers at Stella— the barmaiden, who reluctantly came his way.
"Don't click at her again," Selene glared at him, the manners the pirate witheld absolutely appoling her.
"Excuse my manners, Love, but I have a repayment to make to this one over here," Killian apologised, pointing his hook in the direction of Selene.
"Can I just get a refill of this, Please," Selene slid her stein towards Stella.
" 'Course, Hun," Stella took the stein, refilling it with her previous drink.
"Thanks, Love," Killian replied, giving the older woman his infamous flirtatious grin. Stella rolled her eyes.
"Thank you, Stella," Selene thanked her gratefully, Stella shooting her a tight liped smile.
"Meet me at the docks at sunrise and we'll begin our journey," Killian spoke, Selene giving a nod before removing herself from her previous seat.
"I guess I'll see you then, Jones," With that, Selene spun on her heel, leaving the tarven, finding her way through the darkness.
