we don't own our heavens now, we only own our hell ( OPEN )

[extramuralise]

Who: John Irving (extramuralise) + OPEN!
What: Arrival, TDM thread continuations, & more!
When: Throughout May.
Where: Milton & surrounding areas.

Content Warnings: canon & character-typical warnings for The Terror likely, such as potential mentions of body horror / trauma, disease, starvation, death/violence, cannibalism(?), religious evangelism, period-typical prejudice... & so on, as well as spoilers.



✒︎ i. |  LITTLE'S CABIN

It's not exactly a space built for two grown men to live inside, but luckily, living on and off boats for most of one's life teaches a man a thing or two about sharing close quarters— and anyway, Little and Irving are two men unlikely to get in one another's way. Irving doesn't take the invitation for granted, and spends his days — when he's not exploring the greater Milton area — tidying up the cottage as it can, making sure his presence is barely felt in the already small, humble building.

(Easily done, since it's not like he turned up here with much more than the clothes on his back, anyway.)

No one but perhaps the small handful of people he already knows are likely to turn up at Little's door to visit Irving, obviously, but anyone visiting Little at home might encounter him in or about the cabin, either tidying up or beginning to go over the community store accounts in a ledger he's found. If there's a kettle, he'll put it on for company, and if not... well, no sense in a wasted trip regardless, come inside and warm up a bit.

✑ ii. |  MILTON

Irving's been given a quick tour or two of the overall town, but during his early days especially, he's taken to wandering around town to get a better sense of the area. He's keen to begin going through the accounts and inventory records of the community's supplies, but beyond that, he's fascinated at the haunting sight of the nearly empty ghost town.

Naturally he visits the church, in awe of both the building and its resilient construction, exploring it with pious gravity. The graveyard, however, is left untouched; looked upon but unexplored. He'll likely visit it whenever he's in town, wistfully hoping services will be held there again, before continuing onward to the community hall.

✒︎ iii. |  BASIN

The basin is somewhat more treacherous of a trek, but Irving is grateful to have made it once he's there, the sight of game heartening to his peace of mind— and the overall vista itself, simply breathtaking. A good place to, apart from hunting and fishing, also disappear when one wants to be left alone with his thoughts, perhaps; to reflect silently in that lonely cold.

🌊 w i l d c a r d｡

[ Choose your own adventure! Hit me up with anything else, or PM / plurk me @ reggiemantle to discuss in further detail! Happy to also write/respond to personalized starters. ]

Comments

[castitas]

Kate opens her mouth. He died in this very church. She wants to say it, but she doesn't. It's too painful to think about, makes her too sad that something so terrible could happen here. She nods, a little stiffly — let's the silence of it settle. It sucks. It really does.

"According to the foraging book, yeah. It's pretty amazing. Definitely a lot more than citrus fruits." Which is pretty awesome, considering how they're definitely not going to be getting their hands on any oranges or lemons any time soon. But rosehips are in abundance here. Kate's quietly pleased with herself, nodding at the question. "Mr Jopson in particular was pretty sick, when he first arrived. I made sure he had plenty while he recovered. He's doing a lot better now."

Thank goodness, she thinks. She likes him a whole lot. The others too, really. There's one she hasn't met yet, and then there's... Mr Hickey. The less said about him, the better. Besides, there's something else she'd rather focus on — a short gasp, her expression brightening: weekly bible study.

"Really? Oh, I'd love that. That would mean so much, you have no idea." She has never looked this excited about something. Girls Night had been pretty fun but this? She is so stoked. Enough so that it takes her a moment to register the question. She exhales, still smiling.

"Gosh. Everything, really. I... I don't think I could pick any favourites."

Although there's one that comes to mind. He wrote her a postcard, after... everything. After the Vortex Club party. After her Aunt wrote to her and shamed her, damned her, and her mother did just as much — Our concerns about sending you to Blackwell seem justified. We hope you haven't brought shame on you or our family. They didn't understand, they didn't know it wasn't her. But her dad? 'And the light shines in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.' Katie, you'll always be my brightest light against the dark.

"The Light Of The World." she says after a moment or two, her excitement sobering into something more quieter, but still very much affectionate. "He.. was really good at offering support, especially when you felt like you needed it most. I miss him a lot."

[extramuralise]

Irving, for his part, might find such an ending to be more comfort than anything else, ironically— not that he's so morbid to have given it much thought, of course, but given everything, how could he not at all? When it had been him, after all, he hadn't felt God's presence with him in the end; as far as he knows, and knew, he simply died unseen and unheard out there in that cold expanse of inhospitable rock, breathless and speechless and so, so lonely.

Whereas church, on the other hand, seems to him perhaps the next best thing to being surrounded by one's family, friends, and/or loved ones in those final moments— as close to ideal as such a thing most likely ever can be.

"It's hard for me to imagine a man like Mr. Jopson becoming ill at all," he remarks with a slow, thoughtful nod. It's certainly true enough, too, but also merely something to say about a man he never came to know very well during their handful of shared years aboard Terror, who took care of the captain's every need, and so in a way, by extension, everyone else's as well. A caretaker in both career and duty. "I'm glad to hear he's been recovering so well."

Lieutenant Jopson, he should really say, and mentally corrects himself, although apparently it's something that's been kept quiet by everyone else for reasons wholly unknown to him.

"Well. I may have some idea," he continues, unable to help smiling faintly at Kate's sudden and unbridled enthusiasm. It's endearing to see someone else who appears about as passionately Christian as he is, and especially here in Milton, which otherwise seems to be lacking in much religious presence at all. "I believe that during such uncertain times as these, more than ever must we come together in our faith if we're to remain steadfast and strong."

And to keep the faith strong in those few here who still carry it, as it deeply unnerves Irving to be in such a minority amongst people who by all rights should be far more pious and God-fearing than he's observed his fellow Interlopers to be. For what can be said of such a community, otherwise?

Listening to Kate describe her father, Irving nods again, falling into a brief, reflective silence. He hasn't much allowed himself to miss his family over these last few and final years, but in truth, rarely has he passed any of his previous voyages without habitual correspondence between at least one or two people he wishes he could see in person— none of whom he'll likely ever see again, except for when they're reunited eventually in Heaven.

"'When I fall, I shall rise; when I sit in darkness, the Lord will be a light to me,'" he recites accordingly, with dutiful reverence. "'Walk for as long as you have the light, lest darkness overtake you; for he who walks in darkness knows not where he is going.' A good lesson that we should all now take more to heart— indeed, perhaps here more than anywhere."