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singillatim2024-02-11 10:17 pm
castitas) wrote in singillatim2024-02-11 10:17 pm
open-ish | the... sailor fight....
Who: Kate Marsh, Cornelius Hickey, Edward Little, Thomas Jopson, and basically everyone, eventually.
What: Edward Little told Kate Marsh if Cornelius Hickey ever spoke to her again, then she had to come tell him. WELL GUESS WHAT.
When: 21st February.
Where: Various, Milton.
Content Warnings: Discussions involving cannibalism and suicide, including method of suicide (wrist injuries). Major spoilers for AMC's The Terror. Also fighting.
What: Edward Little told Kate Marsh if Cornelius Hickey ever spoke to her again, then she had to come tell him. WELL GUESS WHAT.
When: 21st February.
Where: Various, Milton.
Content Warnings: Discussions involving cannibalism and suicide, including method of suicide (wrist injuries). Major spoilers for AMC's The Terror. Also fighting.
cw: mention of cannibalism
He grabbed me, but— [ Her head shakes, he didn't hurt her. Grabbing her arm was the least terrible thing he'd done, truth be told. All that it had done was spook her enough to run off — given her the sense to get away from him. ]
I shouldn't have— I shouldn't have said anything, but I— I just— [ The word had come out of her before she could stop herself: liar. He come to the Hall with supplies, some grand show of goodwill. It was a lie, she saw right through it. ] It's all a joke— pretending he... he cares about us, when he doesn't. We— we don't mean anything to him.
[ Nothing but meat. A resource. ]
He— he told me— [ Plenty of things, but there's one she's most upset about: Harry Goodsir. She knows it happened, Mr Crozier had told her what Mr Hickey had done to his second-in-command. And she knows what end Mr Goodsir had come to, but... afterwards—? Kate swallows, tears streaming down her face. She bites back a sob. ]
He— [ She can't get the word out. ] He ate Mr Goodsir. He died, and Mr Hickey—
[ A resource. As if such a wonderful and kind man she adores so much could be reduced to that. ]
And I think— I think he made Mr Crozier do it, too
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He stays quiet, hands busy with tea, eventually placing a cup in Miss Marsh's hands and then gently placing another in Edward's before he retreats to clean up. To rub the kettle with snow to clean it, to feed the fire to -
He ate Mr. Goodsir.
Thomas' entire world spins. Goodsir himself had implied to Jopson that Hickey had been consuming his fellow men. Gibson had been better use dead than alive, he had said and Thomas put together the pieces necessary to make that leap.
He swallows hard at the last part, holding everything down.]
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Edward exhales a loud, shuddery gasp as he watches her, hears what she says. What was revealed — regarding Goodsir, and Crozier, things that Edward has also.... learned, from Hickey himself. Some part of him had still been hoping that perhaps it was false, lies spun by the man to upset him, but.... the other part knows better. Hickey would do those things. And he would delight in informing others, seeing the horror on their faces, the hurt and disbelief.
He's gently pulling Kate with him, mind spinning with dizzy horror, over to the couch. There's a grateful nod when Thomas slips cups of tea into both of their hands; he holds his own while his other hand stays with Kate, not leaving her arm as he coaxes her to sit with him. ]
Come, here with me— it's all right, you're safe now. You're safe. [ He's breathing shallowly though, rattled, his own words coming out in a rush. There's much more to say, to ask, but first— ] Do you think he was following you? When you left him?
[ He takes a moment to look back up at Thomas, to catch and hold his eyes, something deeply frightened in his own, but he's giving a little nod, an exchange between the two of them. If Hickey might be pursuing her now... they'll need to be ready for that kind of confrontation. ]
cw: mentions of cannibalism, references to suicide
[ No, she's not. But she's not physically hurt. She warms her hand on the cup, her own breathing just as shallow. The nod is lost on her. Her mouth forms a thin line, eyes watery as she gazes down at her tea. The words hurt more, she's... devastated. ]
He made Mr Goodsir... cut people up, after they'd died. He couldn't do it himself, he had to make someone else do it. Mr Goodsir told me he was already dying but— [ Did he choose to kill himself so he wouldn't be forced to butcher any anyone else? Was that why—? ] after he died, Mr Hickey said he wasn't 'wasting a resource' in front of him. He's so sure it's going to all happen again here.
[ The words are ringing in her ears: 'You sit there and moralize but all I'm guilty of is trying to keep me and mine alive. And they're going to have to make that choice here sooner than you realize.' She doesn't mean to think them, to share it with them. She ducks head head, cringing. Softer, is her own voice: 'Sorry.' ]
I was just... so angry with him. [ And God forgive her, she really gave him a piece of her mind. She even... swore. She looks to each of them, apologetic. She should not have gotten into a fight with Mr Hickey. Gosh, this is such a mess. ] I'm sorry, I know better— it's just he's...
[ Horrible. ]
I messed up.
no subject
He recalls that moment in the tent, sitting atop the doomed man while he awaited his fate at the end of the rope. He should have put a bullet in him then, he muses. It's satisfying to think about.
In fact, there's a rifle, his rifle, leaning against a wayward corner of the cabin. It has enough for one shot, and Thomas has already decided who it will be for, should they need it. That time is not now, but - ]
Is he still there, Miss Marsh? You left him there?
no subject
He's immensely grateful for Jopson to be there, a second person to handle this situation with (although there's another horror in him to realise that Thomas is just now learning these things, and... it's so much; god, he'll need to speak with him after this). And now those things have been exposed to someone outside of the Expedition. Now Hickey will have little left to lose; he's exposed and it makes him all the more dangerous to the person he might want to remove in order to remove those truths from being exposed further.... Edward's heart is pounding so hard he feels ill, but Kate is apologising, and he immediately reaches for her free hand with his own, holding onto it tightly. ]
No— you are at fault for none of this. You made none of this happen. He has always been a monster, and all of this.. it has been building over time.
[ It's been a ticking time bomb, in all honesty. Kate's words echo in his mind, haunting. 'He's so sure it's going to all happen again here.' And Hickey would do everything he'd done all over again, Edward is sure of it. He squeezes the girl's hand, words gentle but insistent through his own barely-staved panic. She's just been terrorised, learned horrific things; it's everything he wished desperately to shield Kate from. ]
This is not your burden. Mr. Jopson and I will take care of it.
no subject
I— I think so, yeah. We... we were in the kitchen, he was dropping off supplies for the Hall. [ And as far as she knows that's where he still might be yet. It would... probably look worse for him if he'd ran after her...? Maybe he's still there, after all.
Her face falls: but what if he's still there. She lives in there. Her mouth opens and closes briefly, fretful as she looks back towards the Lieutenant. ]
I shouldn't have said anything to him. [ It isn't her fault, he tells her. But she can't help but feel like it is. She does know better, and now she's at a loss for what to do. ] He hasn't talked to me in months, not since the first time. I should have kept it like that.
[ ... And she's fretful of what's to come. She grips back at Edward's hand with worry. ]
T—take care—? What... what are you going to do? [ She falters a little, looking between the two men with uncertainty. ] Like... like talk to him...?
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He is a villain, a coward who believes himself braver than he is. If not you, then someone else. [But the fact that it is Kate, who has done nothing but help, rankles. He sits in the chair and tugs on his boots.]
But you're to do nothing about it, Miss Marsh. Mr. Hickey is our problem, not yours. Edward, stay here with her. Keep her warm. I will go speak with Mr. Hickey.
[But there's nothing but that ice in his gaze now. He's set, already planning out all the ways that this could go.]
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But it's only been a matter of time before that crumbled. And it's Kate who may feel the wrath of it. His stomach is a tangle of tight knots as he looks up at Thomas again, nodding in agreement with the other man's words, but freezing when he sees him begin to put on his boots, and the instruction giving him a fresh sweep of tension, eyes widening like saucers. ]
Thomas— [ He has every reason to believe that Hickey wouldn't hesitate to harm Jopson, and the thought of him confronting that demon alone.... ]
He'll be.... agitated. He may become aggressive. [ He thinks of Irving, slashed and maimed in such an act of cruelty, and his writhing stomach flips, voice strained in his throat. Please don't, he almost says, but holds the plea back. ] He may lash out at you.
no subject
Her own stomach's in knots over it all, and she's watching Mr Jopson anxiously as he pulls on his boots. She... doesn't like the sound of this. she doesn't doesn't trust Mr Hickey one bit. She's worried if it might go horribly.
But, like, if he's only going to speak to him. Then... that's okay, right? Because it's like... different. It's just speaking to him. ]
Please be careful, Mr Jopson. He was... pretty mad, when I left him.
[ He might not even want to talk, which is... scary. ]