Novel & Cerita Ouat Captain Hook

Liora Denverux POV “Damien, is that you, Cuz?,” I turned to see a blond guy with a cocky smile on his face, he screamed trouble. “Marvis…,” Marvis walked closer and smiled. “And you…,” Marvis said. I recognize him, he is the captain of the mattahan hockey team. And he is Damien's cousin… “You are Liora,” he said, as he took my hand off the table. “I am Marvis Ross…this ice cold man's favorite cousin, and you look absolutely beautiful,” he said as he kissed my hand.

Skates, ice, a puck, and eleven other men who trusted me to lead them through a game of sixty minutes of simplicity. "You good, Captain?" Marsh, my line member, wandered into the stall next to me, assessing me more than I liked to be assessed at a time like this. "I'm good." "You've been a ghost for the last month." "Family matters. This is the last weekend I was gone." I thumped him on the shoulder, cutting off whatever else he wanted to say on the matter. "Let's just win tonight."

A game neither of us was watching played quietly on the television, there mostly for the company of background sound rather than content. "I was twenty-six when I bonded with Diane," he said, from nowhere visible. I stayed still. I kept my breathing even. He was telling me something and the worst possible thing I could do was make it feel like an occasion. "First year as captain," he continued. "Young for it. Still learning the gap between what the role actually required and what I had assumed it would require." A pause. "She was in her second season. The most visible Omega the professional league had seen at that point. She carried everything that came with that visibility without any appar

"Shut up! No way! Oh my god, you're staying with Brayden Hayes? The actual captain? Miller was telling me some crazy story about Brayden slamming his older brother into the metal lockers yesterday morning, but he wouldn't give me any of the juicy details because he said the team code is sacred. It's an brotherhood of meatheads, I swear." A tiny, genuine laugh bubbled up from my chest, the sound surprising me after so many hours of crying. "Yeah. He definitely slammed Caleb into the steel. I saw the split knuckles last night." "Good! Caleb is an arrogant prick anyway," Chloe hissed, completely matching my voice and energy.

his voice a low drawl, powerful enough to falter a soul. My lips felt dry, and I could feel trickles of sweat rolling down my spine. I didn’t feel brave anymore, not when I could feel the heated gaze at the back of my head. My eyes found Zale, his lips slowly turning pale, I could tell Knox was squeezing too hard. “Let him go,” I said, my voice softer. Stupider. He didn’t move, “and if I don’t?” he was taunting. I mean he should, what was I going to do against him? He was the captain of the hockey team, his name a legacy in these walls.

Vivi stayed on the edge at first, but Theo handed her a slice and Finn teased Asher mercilessly about “painting dates.” “Captain’s gone soft,” Finn laughed. “But we like her.” Asher pulled Vivi onto the couch beside him. His arm stayed around her shoulders. For a few hours, the sabotage felt distant. But Delphine ruined it. Late that night, after everyone left, Vivi’s phone lit up. A new post from an anonymous account: more old sketches mixed with the leaked one of Asher. The caption read: “Captain distracted by damaged goods? Exhibition preview looks weak.” Attached was a fake review mocking her series as “rehashed trauma.”

They leaned against the cabin wall, retching. I pointed at a yacht in the distance and asked, "Is that the one?" The man driving the boat was a local. He was an expert boatman, and he'd kept his cabin squeaky clean. I could tell he loved his boat. I gestured at the queasy duo and said, "Can you speed up? If you don't, they might just throw up all over your boat. The man immediately hit full throttle when he heard my words. The two, who were already nauseous to begin with, instantly turned green. He hastily started yelling at them to stick their heads out of the cabin.

tug Captain Ernst Heppel observed. The captain was as old as Methuselah—or at least looked it. With both hands on the oak wheel, feet planted on the varnished floor in a seaman’s stance that rolled with the tide, his unkempt hair protruding from his soiled cap, and his grizzled chin curtain as grey and gnarled as the rope beard adorning the tug’s bow, the man certainly struck an image of venerable antiquity. George grunted agreement.

He was poised low on the ground, ever ready to strike with his shinobuken held horizontally in front of him, his left hand behind. “Were we in a trainin’ dojo where ye’ve been raised,” the captain said, “no one would claim victory… BUT HITHER IS NOT A DOJO!” Captain Fang thrust his amputated right arm and released the harpoon on the end of it. As a matter of fact, Sasha had earlier grabbed a handful of salt when he tumbled forward across a drying pan. Now he swung his left hand from behind him and flung the salt to the captain’s eyes like a sumo wrestler purifying the ring.

Aulia nodded her head once Hisoka glanced at her, requesting her permission as well. “Great.” Hisoka intertwined his fingers together, placed his elbows on the table, and propped his chin on the intertwined fingers. “This man, next to me, is one of the Mandrill Monkeys or so-called Mandrill. His code name is Captain, coincidentally the captain of the group.” Captain shot up and slightly tilted his body forward. “The name is Captain, one of the Mandrills and also the leader. I humbly greet all of you.”