{ never never } maybe this world is another planet's hell.

[neverneverqueen]

More than only James Hook reside in Neverland and, naturally, more than only James Hook require notification that Captain Darling has made her way back to these waters and doesn't much care to have to tell anyone twice that they should avoid remaining long in her path. The second time, one might presume, she stops using words - the early weeks are

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[envy_not_hook]

It takes a little bit of courage to repeat back gossip of Hook's exploits to James himself, with his bo'sun being the likeliest to get away with the worst of it. But it doesn't mean Hook is entirely deaf to words, and at least they're getting one detail quite correct:

He fired first.

And at least it isn't all terrible, the speculation behind what it means to give a lady his coat. The truth is bad enough and so elaborations are fairly welcome, but it does mean that she truly is wearing the damn thing, in the same manner as the hat she'd claimed off-- whoever it was. Hook has no need to see any of this for himself, setting the logical courses for pillage and trade and general fear-mongering in the waters of which he is most possessive, or keeping the indigenous fearful of their own coasts. The oceans, conveniently, are quite big.

But the towns are quite small.

By the time Wendy is emerging from the traders' building, the Jolly Roger is a distinct shadow on the cove, anchor down and smaller boats pulled away from it to dock, cargo

[neverneverqueen]

In point of fact, Wendy is wearing the infamous coat in question now as she ignores Hook's warning as blithely as she ignored the trader's before him and falls in step beside him on an immediately-satisfied whim. She is also wearing the hat, its near-bridal veil settling behind her in place of her long hair, tucked and pinned out of her way beneath with only hints of red visible when she turns her head this way or that.

She is, naturally, smiling.

"Why, fancy this coincidence," she greets amiably, setting her hand to his elbow as if he's a gentleman and she's a lady and as though she didn't just melt out of the evening shadows in the vague hope of giving him a bit of a jolt. "Aren't we looking well this night."

[envy_not_hook]

Oh. There she is.

He doesn't jump, but his head turns fast enough that should he have been wearing a hat, it might have stayed where it was beneath its own weight. Offense wrankles his features in a brief glimmer before he sets stony glare out at the street before them, and doesn't do himself the indignity of shaking her hand off after his steps initially pause-- and resume, his chin lifting as if this is completely how he expected to encounter her, allowing the corner of his mouth to twitch into barely genuine half-smile. "Fancy it indeed.

"But while I can hardly disagree with you on my account, I dare say you aren't speaking for yourself. You look entirely mannish in that get up." So there.

[neverneverqueen]

"Ah? One wonders what manner of men the Hook is keeping company with these days." A pair of cheap shots, to be sure; they're both in their own ways not especially progressive individuals, even if Dorothy is slowly and relentlessly beginning to rub off on her flightier friend, like waves crashing into a rock. (Third wave, if you will.) The way she walks and her tightly-laced waist leave very little doubts about her sex, beneath that heavy and recently-altered coat, but perhaps - she will concede - he might refer to the cocky way in which she strides beside him, no Edwardian ideal of the demure.

A moment later- "Come, now, won't you indulge me with a civil conversation? It's been so awfully long since we had one of those, mere novelty must compel us." Presumably she doesn't include their most recent encounter amongst 'civil conversations' that they've had, what with being sandwiched between death threats, but then, they argued more often than they didn't before she fled his ship, too.