“𝘈𝘩.” The pirate purses her lips, brow arching with the remark. “I assume that is a ‘hook’ pun.
𝘾 𝙡 𝙚 𝙫 𝙚 𝙧.”

her a short window of privacy. Killian uses this fully to her advantage with the help of a few crew members, now below deck getting things in order.

Surprise registers in the ways she pivots suddenly to peer down the loading ramp and eye the enigmatic stranger calling up to her. +

of life, a devilish poet (𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘴). It is the absolute madness of life rooted to one spot that propels Killian to make preparations for possible departure. The bustle of Storybrooke’s cannery in the distance draws several curious pedestrians that direction and safely away from her ship, affording +

A life tethered to predictability, quite literally anchored to a single earthly locale, is anathema to the nomadic ways of a pirate. More than that, the routine of such an existence is 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘺, and Killian Jones is no ordinary woman. Within her resides the soul of a traveler, a curious aficionado +

pirate takes note but makes no mention, instead surveying the rest of the patrons including several supremely inebriated sailors.
"Lead on, fair maiden" she says to Ruby with a cheeky wink. "A flagon of your inebriant of choice awaits. We can exchange stories of seafaring and troublemaking."

+ own revelry. With a courteous tilt of her head, Killian accepts the role of first entrant into the fray taking a confident step forward and scanning the room while her companion joins.

Several men gather around an intensely focused card game taking place in a dimly lit corner at the back. The +

above utilizing all of her 𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙩𝙨.

Their arrival at the tavern nearly drowns out Ruby's question when the slender brunette gestures Killian indoors. Raucous laughter interspersed with boisterous conversation inundates the pair quickly indicating they've chosen a good night to embark upon their +

𝘿𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨, Killian toys with noting, but in a less overtly powerful position, very lucrative information found its way to her. The seasoned marauder knew well how to transfigure knowledge into currency, and if wearing the scandalous bar maid's outfit did the trick, 𝙬 𝙚 𝙡 𝙡... she was not +

Or more specifically the enigmatic sea.” The street is quiet for so early in the evening. “Killian Jones. I, too, come with a…less than pristine reputation.” That was putting it mildly.

Killian is intrigued by a woman whose passion is to capture moments that are never to be revisited other than in her pictures.

“I have waited tables at my local tavern.” What an experience that was—Killian Jones, bar wench. “But now I life a less constrained life sailing and studying the world. +

pale skin, and signature red color. On someone else, it might be trying too hard, but on Ruby, the hue is striking. “Bad girl, huh?” Killian taps a fingertip against her bottom lip in thought. “I think I’d like to hear more about how this rebellious reputation was earned.”

Despite her jest, +

“Simple: straightforward and gritty from the sound of it. My kind of purveyor indeed,” Killian remarks on a hopeful note.

Her companion’s introduction brightens the pirate’s mood further. With a tilt of her head, she scrutinizes the young woman as they walk, noting her lustrous emerald irises, +

+ beside the jovial brunette. It’s hard to picture taverns like those found in the Enchanted Forest fitting into this seaside community. Perhaps no generously filled flagons of beer and handsy men to school in the art of behaving themselves (with a trusty dagger).

“If the Rabbit Hole is the nearest tavern, then it is an excellent choice,” Killian proclaims, tugging the lapels of her leather jacket a bit closer to ward off the chill air. “What a curious name,” she adds with a knowing chuckle.

“So tell me more about this establishment.” The pirate falls in +

over a glass of liquid inspiration. My treat?”

Her eyebrows lift slightly with the question and she flashes a toothy grin. “I would wager we could put our heads together and come up with something appropriately misbehaving.”