open | leave the horror here

[castitas]

Who: Kate Marsh + you!
What: Making rosehip tea/syrup shenanigans; nightmares; feast preparations + more!
When: The month of October.
Where: Various places around Milton.

Content Warnings: Warnings in the individual prompts. As a general rule, themes of depression and suicide, possibly mentions of suicide attempt from last month from It Speaks prompt.




contact: heolstor / _heolstor @ discord for plotting!

Comments

[castitas]

I've been getting a lot of opinions on the matter. [ Good ones, implied by the tiny smile. The importance of kindness and goodness in places like this. That is more than simply to survive. It's been helpful, consider her own thoughts on her lack of skills here. There's some things she can't do, it's true. But she knows there's stuff she can do that's just as important.

It's an answer she doesn't expect, and she's staring in a quiet wide-eyed surprise for a long moment. He's done worse than loot abandoned houses. There's a kind of hesitancy about it all, but she's not judging him for it. He doesn't do it any more, that means something.

But... does he actually mean... a pirate? Like... that kind of pirate? ]

Um, when you say pirate. You mean like— [ She's even putting on a little bit of a 'voice' for it, putting one of her hands over her eyes for the full effect. ] 'Avast, maties. Here be a spot to bury treasure.' with the eye patch and rapier sword. That... kind of pirate?

[jackdawvision]

It'll do you good to listen to them. [He pauses.] I suppose it does help, though, that so far we ain't got very lofty goals. I don't think we have the capacity to dream up anything loftier than making it through the winter with our lives and sanity intact, right now.

[Just for the moment, anyway. He figures it'll change in time, as they all settle in more and start thinking more long-term.

That startles a surprised laugh out of Edward, the accent—it's not quite the Bristol accent that Edward once heard out of Thatch, but it's not not that either. He shakes his head a little, ruefully.]

Somewhat? [His experience of piracy is...a little bit different from Kate's view of it.] Aye, I saw people who wore eye patches. I myself used to carry around a couple of officer's rapiers when I was younger. But we didn't bury treasure often—we'd sell it instead and spend the profits however we pleased. [And usually those profits would be gone in a flash. Pirates didn't tend to be very thrifty people.] And that was if we found any treasure, we usually just took goods from whatever ship happened to be unlucky enough to cross our path.

[At swordpoint, often, but he doesn't dwell on that point more than he has to. Kate doesn't need to know all the details.

A beat.]

Never heard someone say something like that, though—avast maties, and all that. I'm sorry to disappoint.

[castitas]

[ She nods. Not to worry, she's definitely listening to them. Mr Goodsir and Lieutenant Little are two men who's opinion she highly respects, and she does take on board what they've been saying. Not to mention they... kind of know all about this. You know... surviving in places like this.

Honestly, it's not very often that she gets the chance to talk to pirates. She is... disappointed about the not burying treasure all that much. She is a little quiet about the whole... stealing thing, though. She's not here to judge. He did say he'd left that life behind now. ]

I guess it kinda makes sense to just... sell it, rather than burying it. [ But gosh, no 'avast maties'? That's a terrible shame. She does raise an eyebrow in questioning. ]

... Not even a 'yo-ho'—? Or... what about drinking rum? Is that a thing?

[ Surely that's a thing. ]

What... made you stop being a pirate, in the end? To be a merchant instead?

[jackdawvision]

I did dig up buried treasure, now and again, but it weren't like I was stumbling over a map and a chest every day. More like... [Scratching at his chin.] Every few months, I think.

I've never heard someone say yo-ho in my life. [Sorry! But he does confirm:] But we drank a lot of rum, so aye, that's a thing that I don't recommend anymore.

[Spoken like someone who used to be an alcoholic himself. Still is, to some degree, although he's been dry for a while now. And as for that question...he goes quiet again, thinking over how to tell her without giving away what else pushed him to leave that life behind him.]

I found out about my daughter. [A breath.] My wife and I had gotten married before I left Bristol, but I hadn't known she'd had a child in her belly when I did. I didn't know about her for—for too long. [Nine years. Nine whole years.] If I had known—I like to think I might've come home earlier than I did. [Deep in his heart, though, he wonders if he really would've, or if he'd have used it as an excuse to fuel his ambitions.] When I did find out, though, I knew I couldn't leave her without a father. So I took the pardon, and sailed back home.

[castitas]

I think that might still count. [ Totally counts. It's still digging up buried treasure! Her nose wrinkles up a little, though: a lot of rum. She's seen plenty of her peers rolling up to class pretty trashed after some mid-week parties. She definitely knows that a lot of something was getting drunk. Still, there's a tiny smile. ]

Well, I guess there's no worry there. I don't drink, anyways. Except a sip of wine at church. [ Which is totally different. But yes, rest assured there's no need to warn her off of drinking rum, or anything for that matter. ] It sucks that pirates don't actually say 'yo-ho', though. Although it does make me wonder where that actually came from?

[ It makes her wonder where a lot of the pirate stuff actually comes from because it's so much more different than what she thought, apparently.

She's quiet for a little while as she listens, her expression thoughtful. ]

... I know you can't take it back. You didn't know. [ As he said, he hasn't know his wife was pregnant when he left. ] But... it counts that you came back and chose to change. It counts for a whole lot.