singillatim | open | leave the horror here

Entry tags:

open | leave the horror here

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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ He hasn't brought the incident up to her since then — it isn't his business or place to, and he's only kept it tucked within his own heart for these weeks since. And he's continued to feel that... pull of something, that whisper against the shell of his ear, staved off but never fully gone. You deserve to rot, too.

He doesn't know if it's haunted Kate as well, and will not ask directly. If she wishes to speak of it, of any of it, then— ah. His eyes shift in a particular way, a softer warmth of understanding as he listens. There's a moment when he means to give his head a shake — she doesn't have anything to apologise for, not her — but he falls still again, letting her speak. Then there's his hand, coaxed more tightly by her gesture, and he lets his fingers grasp the bottle more firmly, looking down to it for a moment before back up. ]

Please— you need not be sorry. Not for anything. [ He's a little awkward with his words, aware that he'd been very open and talkative at that moment with Kate on the edge, but.... everything had truly come from his heart. Edward draws the bottle back closer to his person, holding firm to it. ]

It was no burden on my heart then, and it is not now. I am only grateful that you are well, and I remain grateful.

[ He smiles, a slight and polite gesture, but there's a visible warmth to his eyes, something that not even his maintained manners can subdue. ]

Thank you, for the gift. I shall use it well. Though I must admit, I know not what Vitamin C is. [ He is... definitely thinking of it like "vitamin sea" in his mind... ]

... I feel like I should be sorry for probably giving you a heart-attack by scaring you, at the very least. [ Yes, she knows he said there's no apology necessary. But it matters enough to be said, to seek forgiveness for harms against others. In way, she did harm him — probably scared him to death. Even if she guesses he wouldn't change it, he wouldn't not be there to help her. She is deeply sorry for that, at the very least. ]

I'm keeping busy. It helps, a bit. [ The Voice might not add to her thoughts, but there's still plenty of her own to contend with. Her problems remain, with no way to really do anything about them now she's stuck here. And then there's... here, this place. The cold, the dark, the quiet. It doesn't do her spirit much good.

But she's happy he does accept the syrup as a gift at her insistence, and she brightens again, looking quite pleased about it for a moment. He honestly deserves the gift, okay? She won't hear otherwise. And besides, it's something to help him. ]

A spoonful a day should be enough, you could even dilute it with water if you find it kinda too sweet. I dried some to be used as a tea if you ever want some of it, too. [ And she was... honestly kind of expecting it. She already had to explain it to Mr Goodsir, and there's an amused little chuckle. ] It's what we call a micronutrient. Something our bodies need in order to be healthy, which we get from food. When we have limited diets, we end up with deficiencies of certain vitamins.... which means we get sick.

[ She hesitates, her lips pursing tightly. Whatever humour she had is quickly lost by the end of her words. There's worry in her expression, fretful for him, and Mr Goodsir too. All those years, without a proper diet and.... eating from contaminated cans of food. They both seem okay now, but she can't really know for sure. There could be plenty she doesn't know about. ]

... Mr Goodsir told me about how everyone was getting sick from scurvy, and the... um, the lead poisoning, too.

[ Edward's smile thins slightly, not because he is offput by her words, but only that he won't diminish the severity to them. To all of this. ]

I am wholly grateful I was there, [ he offers, gently. It's... a delicate matter, and he doesn't want to rouse upsets within her, but he needs her to know as much. He's glad he was there. Glad he followed her. Glad he.... kept going. Not for his own sake, but for hers. If she'd been left standing there alone....

...he shudders to think of it. For a moment he stands there, weighted by the thoughts of what-if, brow knit, before he's looking up again. Keeping busy — ah, it's a concept he's well-familiar with. On that note....it's a thought he'll come back to shortly, but firstly he's listening to Kate explain further, and lifts the bottle up to his eyelevel, looking to it. Something so seemingly simple as this, contains such potential to keep one healthy....? Certainly he doesn't doubt what she says, it's only a lot to grasp.

Then Kate says what she does next, and the man pauses, lowering the bottle a little so that he can look at her instead. He can't control his expression quickly enough, something softly stricken there in his eyes for a moment. He hadn't... spoken much of such things, to anyone here. In fact, there are many things he hasn't spoken of. ...Not even of the potential dangers of Hickey, a fact that Edward has been keeping to his own heart, a quiet truth shared only with Mr. Goodsir, while the pair of them keep a watchful eye on things.

But this truth... he supposes, would come out sooner or later. He has tried to conceal his own... ailments, but while some things have eased over time here, others.... have not. It is one of many horrors that haunt his heart. And so for a long moment he just stares, mouth parted slightly, before he gives a soft exhale, and an apologetic dip of his head, as though slightly ashamed he hadn't spoken of it before now. ]

Ah— yes, it was... unexpected. We had made preparations against the scurvy, but the cans.....

[ ....It was nothing any of them could have imagined. And the effects of such a thing... were more horrific than anything they could have imagined, either. He pauses again, eyes fluttering slightly; the horror of it haunts his dreams and his waking thoughts alike, makes his stomach tight and ill thinking about how he may yet end up the way others had. But he does not want to frighten her, shaking his head softly. ]

.....Truthfully, I still do not know what may come of it. So it is a true blessing to have this — thank you for your generosity. [ He bows his head again, and carefully tucks the bottle into his trouser pocket. ]

I imagine he was quite intrigued to hear about this... micronutrient, you called it? On the ships, he was very involved — he was the one to discover.... what was happening, with the cans.

... Me, too. [ Her voice is quiet, but it's sincere. She's grateful. Perhaps more so than what she was at the time, now she's had time to try to grapple with some things. There are parts of it all she still needs time yet to work through: things are uncertain, but settled for now. It was no quick fix, and there's still plenty in this place that dampens her spirits — but there are little slithers of hope in amongst it all.

She really is glad he was there, even with how terrible for him she feels about it. Even with how ridiculous she feels. He was there for her, he helped her. He... stopped her from doing something she wouldn't be able to take back. He told her her worth, her value — reminded her of it, even. And what's more: he offered her a hand. To remind her she isn't alone; that it's there for her, if she needs it. And she's incredibly grateful for it, for him.

It's not as if he owes her an explanation, considering everything. She kinda gets why he wouldn't say anything. Being sick means people start to worry, there's too much going on at once before you even bring something like this into it. Besides, how do you even go about talking about something like that? ]

I get now why you really needed to get back to your men. [ She offers it sadly. She's sorry for him, for all of them. There's a little beat, before she adds: ] I.. I could pray for them, if you like. If I could give them the syrup or tea too, I would.

[ She can't. She knows that. Maybe if more of his men turn up, she could at least do more than praying there. ]

I don't know if it helps, but— [ Kate really hopes it does. Even if might not help his men, back home. ] They don't use lead with canned food anymore.

[ Some kinda silver lining, she hopes. And there's the fact that he doesn't have to worry about the canned food they find in this place having the same issues as the ones from the expedition. People won't get sick here like that, he doesn't risk the danger of getting any sicker from contained food (neither will Mr Goodsir, or even Mr Hickey, for that matter).

Speaking of, she does brighten up again at the question — her smile a little warmer. ]

He was—! [ There's amusement in her expression, but it's there with fondness. It's clear she does like Mr Goodsir a lot. ] And just about everything else in general, too. I kind of gave him a free pass to ask me questions he has about the future so I'm helping him fill in blanks with things. He's really smart.

[ His slight smile softens again, warms gently, something he hopes offers some quiet reassurance. She needn't be sorry. Not for any of it. And his concern lingers as he looks her over, hoping that she isn't feeling too heavy for it in this moment.

The offer to pray for his men catches him by some soft surprise, and Edward's brows lift slightly. Ah — of course, even in her own melancholy, Kate would offer something so kind... His heart squeezes with an ache, and the man's looking down for a moment, quiet. Again, he hasn't really... spoken much about these things with anyone. Kept them swallowed down, tucked behind his own heart, but... ]

That would be very kind. I would be grateful for it. [ —is the solemn, genuine response, but there's something more to follow, that he adds on after a moment's pause. ]

The laws of this place... the natural laws, surely follow some logic I can not make sense of. But they seem to allow others to appear from different... times. Different places in time. [ He frowns; it makes little sense to him, but it's been.. a sort of hope to hold onto. A hope he hasn't voiced to anyone else, hasn't allowed himself to. But to Kate.... Edward looks back up, a soft desperation in his eyes. ]

And so it is... feasible, that some of them may yet come here, isn't it? If they do... I'll certainly direct them to your care.

[ Is it a fool's hope, or something true? He can't truly know... but his heart must hold firm to the belief that it may be possible. ]

It is a relief to know, [ he adds, in regard to the cans no longer being made with lead. It's been....difficult, eating. ] Admittedly, I have been a bit nervous of it.

[ Ah, but— Goodsir. Edward can't help a little smile at how she seems to brighten at the mention of the man. Goodsir is a good ally to have — and trustworthy. It soothes the heart to hear that he's made acquaintance with Kate (and is a relief; he doesn't doubt that the other man will keep an eye on her). ]

I'm sure he must be very thrilled to learn all that he can from you, Miss— [ he starts to say, then seems to catch himself, a bit awkwardly, gloved hands twisting against themselves a bit, restless. He has... made an error...... Speaking of being sorry for things. ]

—Actually, there is something that I must seek your forgiveness of, if I may.

[ Kate nods at that, a pleased smile at her lips. She is more than happy to, and will include them in her prayers with his blessing. There might not be an services here, but she likes to go the church on the outskirts of town at least once a week. There's comfort in the routine of it, and comfort there's still somewhere she can go that's entirely familiar to her — even with... how difficult things have been, in regards to faith.

She considers the question briefly, frowning a little in thought. It's certainly not a dumb thing to wonder about, really. ]

How we all got here does really feel like something out of science-fiction— [ People from different times, different places, snatched away from their homeworlds by some unknown force or being and put here. ] I believe it's totally possible they might end up turning up in this place, too.

[ More of his men, maybe even people Kate knows might end up here. She would like to see Max again, but the thought of Max being stuck here too isn't a very nice one and she doesn't dwell on it too much. But there's another little pleased look before she adds. ]

I made a lot. [ Of the syrup, and tea. ] They'll be more than welcome to some. Please let them know to come find me.

[ It's really understandable, considering, in regards to his wariness of the cans. Kate couldn't blame him, not after living with that for so long. There's a sympathetic look, a slow nod. Poor Lieutenant Little, she thinks. At least it's one thing he doesn't have to worry about. She imagines he probably has a whole lot to worry about.

Her mouth opens to confirm, because yes— Mr Goodsir's been taking on all the new learning with enthusiasm — but the man stops and she pauses with it. Her brow furrows slightly in questioning: her... needs her forgiveness? Her expression shifts, almost to disbelief. What could he need her forgiveness for? He's done nothing wrong, not to her. Never to her. ]

Um. Okay, sure. [ There's uncertainty in her voice, but she's willing to hear him out. ] ... What is it?

[ His heart does cling to such prospects, though it may be painful to — what if he's wrong? What if he, Goodsir, and Hickey are all that will ever remain...?

But what if they aren't?

He has to keep believing that there may be more. That whatever spared the three of them, for whatever reason... could spare the captain, the others. It's the first time he's ever voiced such a hope to another person, and hearing Kate's affirmation of the thought makes something tight and aching feel looser, more comfortable in his chest. 'I believe it's totally possible', she says. Someone else thinks so... and it helps. It means a great deal to him. Edward gives a soft sigh, relieved, warmed and perhaps even a little emboldened by her response. ]

I shall. [ It's another thing to hold onto, another secure knot in a rope fastened securely to his heart. If any of the others come here, and they could, then he'll direct them to her for syrup, for care.

Ah but, what comes next.... it's uncomfortable, but necessary, to address. The man glances down, gloved hands slowly worrying themselves a little in front of himself, before he stops them. ]

....I must deeply apologise for being too forward with you. [ Edward, please, that's not... ]

Referring to you as "Miss Kate".... I must admit, I did not realise your true age. Where I am from, one's clothing is... telling, and here... such things are much more difficult to tell.

[ He won't dare look to her legs, but his eyes do drop a little. He.... thought you were younger because your skirt doesn't cover your ankles. Please, he is just a Victorian.... He's fretful, anxious; he feels so out of place here... and terribly ashamed for it. Even more ashamed the more he speaks, because he's delving into her personal business here, her age.... it's all quite inappropriate, but he needs to explain.... and with that, he dips his head. ]

But I realise now, you must be... older than I had presumed. Please, I hope you may forgive my lapse of judgment, Miss Marsh.

[ The mention of 'being too forward' with her is met with a kind of wide-eyed surprise. And at first, Kate doesn't have a clue by what he means with that. She still can't think of any way he's affronted her, or insulted her in any way. He's been anything but, and she certainly can't see how he's been forward with her, either.

Her.... clothing...? There's a brief look of confusion as she glances down her at herself. It's cold out, but a calm enough day — a couple of layers of tights and thermal leggings beneath her skirt are enough to keep her warm with her wanderings around town, and she's wrapped up in several layers on top, too: a thick jumper and a good coat, and a wool scarf. Not to mention she's in footwear far better than sneakers.

But when she'd first come here? ... Oh, yeah. This is a thing, isn't it? Modesty regarding clothing. It's... kind of funny in a way — she's probably more modestly dressed in comparison to her classmates. And yet what her time thinks is modest and his time thinks is modest is still very different. ]

... You didn't know. [ She can't help but smile a little, amused by it all in a tiny way. She can hard blame him for not knowing. ] And... I only turned eighteen a couple of weeks before I ended up here, so I guess I don't look that old, yet. Y'know?

[ He looks kinda anxious about the whole thing, like he's done some terrible thing. It's... actually kind of sweet he cares about such a thing, that he worries about it. That it's important to him. ]

It's... actually been kinda nice being called 'Miss Kate'—? It felt really polite, proper. [ Even if it had, technically, been wrong. And she's smiling again, a little charmed by it all. ] But I'm not offended if you got it wrong by mistake. You're totally forgiven.

[ Although now she's wondering, on the topic of it all: ]

How am— how should I address you, then? 'Edward' would be too casual, right?

[ Not that it sits entirely comfortably with her, either. It's kind of like calling your teacher by their first name. It's kinda weird. ]

[ Ah — eighteen. He hadn't wanted to outright ask her age, and is grateful that she provides it on her own; now he knows. Certainly, Kate is young, but not as young as he'd assumed; she's no child.

Embarrassment and shame linger, though it's a great relief that she's not offended, and even goes on to say that it had been nice. Edward can't help giving a small smile at that, head dipping again for a moment as he rubs his thumbs together. He truly is relieved..... ]

Thank you.

[ There's something startling (though interesting, if he were to allow himself to entertain it in that way) to the fact that such a title would be considered polite and proper to her. In his time, addressing a woman of her age by their first name at all is.... deeply improper; it's truly a testament to how different the future is.

Speaking of. Being asked outright what he should be referred to is certainly new, and goes against some social protocol, but he knows protocol is... different, now. It's all right to explain some things, Edward... you're not being rude.... ]

Ah, I suppose 'Lieutenant Little' would be the most typical. Or 'Mister Little', if you like.

[ Lt. or Mr. are both quite normal. Though... he hesitates, a bit worried that maybe those are too formal for what she's used to? He doesn't want to make things strange for her... ]

....Unless... 'Mister Edward' would be more comfortable for you?

[ In truth, she really doesn't feel like there's anything to forgive. There isn't any harm done, really. He's done nothing wrong to her. She hasn't even been offended. But it's... important to him, and that matters. If he needs forgiveness for what he believes to be poor behaviour on his part, then she is happy enough to grant him it. Forgiveness is an easy thing for her.

Still, she's brightened when he looks relieved for it, and then thoughtful when she's offered options. It's... quite formal, yeah. But then, it's kind of just like calling teachers by their surnames at school. She wouldn't dare dream to call them by the first names.

... Unlike someone she knows calling Mr Jefferson... Mark. Kate's no stranger to Victoria's conversations with her friends. ]

Well, a Lieutenant is what you are— and I might not know much about the Navy but I get calling people by their titles or ranks is the respectful thing to do. Like when you call a police-officer 'Officer'? [ It's pretty much the same thing, she thinks? ]

And I mean, I've already referred to you as 'Lieutenant Little' to other people, so—

[ It kind of makes sense. There's a small smile of amusement; that's settled, then. ]

Lieutenant Little it is.

[ This place is such a strange adjustment, and for everything that's familiar (being trapped somewhere cold and unforgiving), there's much that is unfamiliar (all of these people from so many different places, people who don't know his norms, his way of life, and he doesn't know theirs in turn). It's certainly.... a stress, and although he's willing to adjust to whatever is most comfortable for Kate here, there's an immediate relief that she goes with what's most familiar for him. Mr. Little would be fine, truly, but Lt. Little is certainly where his comfort zone is at its most comfortable.

....And there's a thought, quiet and strange. He hasn't been referred to by any companions as "Mister Little" in.... a very long time. Those three years on the ice felt like so much longer, and it was Lieutenant Little that he needed to be; that was his role. That's who he wishes to be, to remain. ....Isn't it? Well, in any case, Lieutenant Little is who is needed here in this place, as well.

He smiles in return, feeling much more at ease about the whole matter. Still a bit embarrassed for it, but it wouldn't do to dwell on that, not with Kate being so generous. ]

I am grateful for your consideration.

[ Edward please... it's not that serious (to him it is) ]

Now then— where were you headed? Do you have more trades to make? I wouldn't want to keep you from business.

I... think I've probably terrorized the town with my sales pitch enough for one day. [ There's a weak smile, a half-cringe. She's kidding, mostly. Kind of. Maybe it could use a bit of work, she's hardly any kind of salesperson — even if it's all gone mostly well. She's pretty excited to try and get her new walkman and tapes to play, going way retro with the entertainment, it looks like. But it can wait. And she could probably give the people of Milton a break for today.

Besides, he looks like he's on his way to do something. And while he's here, she also... kind of has some question for him about things. ]

Are you... going to get some firewood? [ She motions to the axe he holds at his side. ] ... I can help, if you want.

[ There's never not a need for it. And she's happy to help him. It's not exactly the funnest of jobs. Not to mention he... probably shouldn't be pushing himself too hard, considering he's still recovering from— well, a lot. ]

And... I have my sled. I could drop my things off at the Community Hall and use to help pull firewood around? It'd probably make it a lot easier than carrying it.

I'm certain they appreciate it. [ Edward says, earnestly. What she has to offer seems extremely helpful in a physical and medicinal sense, but also— ] It may help instill feelings of normalcy, in this place. Trade, exchanging goods... I think it will do everyone some good. It's a very clever idea.

[ He tips his head in a nod, approving, even perhaps seeming proud by it. A dose of Nanny Praising.... and it's well-deserved! ]

Yes, I was about to head out to collect some. [ The offer makes him smile again; actually, it's an idea that aligns with some of his own thinking as of late. Little ways he may offer to help keep Kate busy, keep her mind off of things — methods he himself utilises, too. ]

I should enjoy your company very much, if you're certain you're up to it. And it would be nice to have a means to carry more wood back.

[ The sled would be a great asset, truly... Edward does genuinely seem to brighten up at the idea. (Of course, he won't put her too hard to work... Probably just have her pick up some smaller twigs and branches....) ]

Then— shall we? [ He lifts his hand politely in gesture of the Community Center, not far from here; he'll help her drop off her things, and make sure they have everything they need before heading out to the woods. ]

Thank you. [ It's softly spoken. She's modest in the face of praise, a shy smile and little dip of her head. She doesn't do what she does for praise or recognition, she does it because she wants to help, she wants to do some good. There's so much she's not able to do, but there's the little things she can do. ]

I'm totally sure—! [ She nods with another smile. Collecting firewood is totally something she can also do, or she can help with it at the very least. She'd probably not be able to get through anything with an axe. But she can collect things! And gather it up and load it onto the sled!

Back at the Community Hall, she's quick to drop off her things at her cot, safely and carefully storing things away. She can put any food into the pantry later when she comes back later, along with organising the other pieces she'd received. She's kind of looking forward to getting the Walkman she got in one particular trade working with some of the cassette tapes she got in others. In turn, she'll grab a few things to take with them: water, a couple of granola bars.

The sled now empty, they've got plenty of room to load it up with firewood. As they make their way out of the Hall, she stops upon the small entrance porch at the top of the steps and unwraps one of the bars and snaps it carefully in half. A little snack on the way there would be nice. ]

Here. [ She holds the broken-off half out to him. ] It's a granola bar. They're good for you, especially for energy.

[ Once there, Edward lingers close by to help transfer items from her sled if Kate needs, and also checks in on the state of the fire going for a moment before it's finally time to head out again. Readjusting his gun, Edward looks down as Kate holds something out to him, reaching to accept it in his fingertips and give it an inquisitive look-over.

It's yet another novelty for him, but one that's far less unsettling than some of the other things he's been exposed to in his time here — like electricity on Aurora nights, or heavy metal, or eee mails.... Unique modern food is much different of a novelty.

Though admittedly, it's one that does cause some discomfort, of its own peculiar category. He doesn't enjoy eating. In fact, he often goes out of his way not to.

But his body knows it needs to eat, and he realises how hungry he is while examining the strange little bar, that familiar empty ache within him yawning wider and wider, like a stretching mouth. Edward smiles at her and pockets the thing for the moment, giving a nod. ]

Thank you. I'll look forward to trying it as we head out.

[ Even now, he's repressing his hunger for a bit longer.... But if it's good for energy, it would do to sample it while walking, anyway. Give him a bit of gusto.

And so he begins to head that way, walking slowly so he can keep alongside Kate and the sled. He won't lead them out too far, not wanting to put her at risk in the deeper wilds. He's also mindful to head in a direction well away from the Basin. No need to draw her thoughts there any more, today. But this is a good time to check in with her on other things, as well. ]

Are things still going well, at the Community Center? No one has given you any trouble, I hope. There or elsewhere.

[ Nanny on the job.... No one better be messing with her or he'll have Words!!! ]

You're welcome. [ There's another smile before she considers. ] Ones with chocolate on them are far better, but this one's still good. It's just like nuts and oats and stuff.

[ Honestly, she's not going to turn her nose up at a granola bar because it doesn't have chocolate on it. Besides, it's still sweet anyways — with some kind of syrup or honey (maple syrup, in this case. Sounds about right for Canada). And while he keeps his, Kate finishes unwrapping her half and eats as they walk, taking little bites here and there — taking her time with it, as if to make it last.

She nods her head and makes a soft sound in the affirmative as she chews in answer, then pausing slightly — the sticky-sweetness of the granola turning bitter in her mouth. It's there in her expression for a moment — enough to tell that things aren't... entirely 'going well'. There's another long pause and she finally tries to swallow, forcing the mouthful down. She's already spoken to Mr Goodsir about it, and she already knows fine well the dangers of a certain terrible mutineer — she's been fully warned by him.

But... she has questions, too. As much as she knows to avoid Mr Hickey, there was plenty he'd said that... arguably made sense, even if it might have all been hidden behind other motives. ]

Can... I ask you something important? [ Much like she respects Mr Goodsir's thoughts and advice, she respects the Lieutenant's, too. And while it's... not a nice thing to ask about, it is important.

She's so careful in asking, though. Or maybe it's why she especially has to ask. She knows the Expedition were stuck... for years. Starving and sick with poisoned food, out in the frozen nothingness. ]

Everyone's... gone. I've heard the road out of Milton to the south's all blocked up— [ A tunneled road through the mountains. Totally impassible. ] and there isn't any other ways out of town. No one's come for us, even if this is present times.

[ No rescue helicopters, no planes. Nothing. Even if someone doesn't know they're all here, no one's come for the people who lived here, either. No one knows they're dead, right? ]

Are... we trapped here?

[ There's a surprised pause at that, brows lifting. Chocolate.... on a bar like this one? He's never imagined such a thing, mulling it over conversationally as they walk. ]

I've not had chocolate in such a way before. It is served as a beverage, in my time. Hot — it would be nice if we had it here.

[ Something to be enjoyed on such cold days... Edward lifts his head towards that coldness as he leads them along, breathing in the sterile chill and exhaling soft puffs of fog. When Kate voices that she'd like to ask him a question, he's looking back down at her, expression even and patient, giving her his full attention; of course she can. But something catches hold of him, the way she's looking, the severity to it...

No one's come for us

His walking slows as he gives a soft exhale. The question feels like a sharp wire forcing its way through his heart, thin and slicing. 'Are we trapped here?'

Edward's quiet for a few long moments. Perhaps that reaction in itself is telling. He has no thought to lie to her, but..... to put that truth into words is something he's not wanted to do for anyone — and perhaps especially for her. This kind and gentle young woman who already knows what it is to feel so trapped, and who has suffered greatly for it. ]

We are, for this moment. [ Is the quiet answer. Not a lie at all, but also something that has some... hope to it. For this moment. Not forever. But.... yes, he will be honest with her. ]

...I do not know how long that moment may last. But the weather may clear, over time, enough that we can find a way through. I promise you, I won't stop trying.

[ He gives a firm nod. He won't give up. Not even if others do. He won't. But he continues after a moment, voiced softly. Has she been worrying about it, plagued by it? ]

It's something you've been.... concerned about?

We totally have hot chocolate still! There's bound to be some around here somewhere. [ Okay, yeah. She would totally be here for that. As much as she does favour her teas, hot chocolate is kind of the best sometimes when it's super cold and snowy out. What better place than here, really? It's a nice thought, and the amusement of it warms her for a little while.

Until everything else sobers her. Nice thoughts feel like a luxury, sometimes. She's quiet as she waits for an answer, patient. But she knows the long silence that follows gives the answer she's thinking of before he does answer. Her lips purse, brow furrowing. For this moment. ]

I believe you. I know you won't. [ It is hopeful, and she's grateful for it. She looks up at him with a small smile. She trusts in his determination, his resolve. He'd promised he'd get her home, once. To safety. Neither of them had known the reality of their situation, but she doesn't think that means his promise is broken. ]

I've been... thinking about things. [ As much as she doesn't like Cornelius Hickey, as much as he frightens her a fair bit — she's never been able to shake off the things he'd said. He'd... made points. ]

If we're stuck here, then— what if the food in town runs out. Or the animals run out, with winter coming. [ There's a beat before she tentatively adds. ] I know you know what it's like for things to be... difficult, like that. You and the others from the Expedition.

[ Others. Meaning: not just Mr. Goodsir. ]

[ It's a very understandable concern, but it's the first time anyone's outright asked such a thing, at least to him. Surely everyone here in this place would be worried, fearful by their circumstances, but.... to think about it so intricately as Kate voices now... shows something beyond that. Fears that people who have known such things would have. Fears that may breed to others, as they listen to stories recollected.

He has been very careful what he tells Kate, and how. Some pieces have come over time, but... those specific worries — of food running out.... Edward pauses, watching the girl's face carefully as she muses quietly. 'I know you know what it's like'

'You and the others from the Expedition'

There's a beat as something strange and unpleasant catches against him, an odd realisation to the way those words are shaped. He now knows she's spoken with Goodsir, of course, and he can imagine the warm-hearted man might've made effort to warn Kate of some things in attempt to prepare her, but.... Edward frowns a bit, head tilted slightly. He will address these concerns, but first— ]

Have you..... encountered someone else from our Expedition? Someone who is not Dr. Goodsir or me?

If you mean Mr Hickey, then... um, yeah. We've met. [ Unfortunately. And there's plenty in her tone and expression to imply it wasn't a particularly pleasant meeting. There's very little love for the man, as... difficult as that is to grasp. Kate certainly doesn't find it easy to dislike others, not does she feel it's right to. It's certainly not very Christian of her.

But Cornelius Hickey is... a bit of a different case. There's dislike of him, but he... kinda scares her a bit, too.

She does make a point to explain a little further, her voice lowering a little. She's careful to mind herself. There's even a quiet look about them, just in case, but they seem to be on their own. ]

Mr Goodsir's already told me about him. That he started a mutiny, that he... hurt people. He's not a good person.

[ Goodsir had left out the far... grislier details of Mr Hickey's misdeeds. Rightfully so. But he'd said enough to emphasize he wasn't a good person, nor was he someone to be trusted. And while who knows what he wants here, chances are it's probably not that great.

There's a little inhale before she also adds: ]

Like, it's okay— he didn't threaten me or anything. He's scary but nothing happened. He probably doesn't want to talk to me again, anyway. [ Hickey doesn't like her all that much in return, really. ] Just... some of the things he said.... it's like they made sense. About all of this, us being here.

[ Given the size of this little town's current population, it's not surprising that she would have bumped into Hickey by now. .....There's also the fact the man wasted no time making himself known on the message board, offering assistance to any who may need it. But perhaps he'd been hoping.... that there would not be much opportunity for him to be around Kate.

Perhaps it was foolish. He should have warned her before.... the way Goodsir apparently had. Shame and regret fight for dominance within him, mingled with a horror, and Edward's expression betrays some of that. He moves a hand up to his face, running it down over his mouth for a moment, eyebrows furrowed severely as he listens. It seems she hadn't learned... the extent of everything; it's not surprising that Goodsir would be careful with her, he's a wise man, and a kind one. That, at least, is a relief.

But only a short-lived one, because Edward's staring at Kate now, watching her as she speaks. It's quite clear from her tone and choice of words that it wasn't a pleasant interaction. Worry immediately burrows into him, and he's lowering his hand from his mouth, shoulders tensing. ]

What did he tell you?

[ Hickey's been playing nice around people, he thinks, trying to keep up this friendly facade. But he can turn nasty quick — and perhaps even more frightening than that, he's smart. Vengeful. Edward knows now what he's capable of. Holding grudges, seeking vengeance. ....Crafting plans, ones that take time. His stomach feels tight, queasy. He can't help asking another question immediately after; she'd said he didn't... threaten her, but... clearly they hadn't ended things on a good note. The implications of that.... ]

Was he... indecent to you? Uncivil?

[ Was he mean to you, Kate??? He better not have been mean to you!!! ]

... He was kind of a jerk, yeah. [ There's a beat as she considers. He might not know what that means. ] He was unkind. About... what I stand for, what I believe in.

[ Nothing that she hasn't heard before, in truth. And there's a little dullness to voice in that — it's nothing new for Kate Marsh. But she's a little uneasy — he looks so worried, and she doesn't want to trouble him further. There's a little guilt there, in her eyes. Like she wishes she hadn't said anything about it. And she knows he would likely tell her she'd have nothing to feel bad for, but she knows this is so much... that she's been so much for him. It's not fair. Burdens upon burdens.

But he asks. He asks what Mr Hickey had said to her, how he'd been with her. It feels wrong to keep it from him. She certainly silently debates over it for a few moments, fidgeting a little on the spot. ]

He said he... he 'hoped someone found me before we ran out of tins'. Talked about how we're pretty much abandoned here, that we have to rely on ourselves. And— with winter on the way— [ How much harder it might get. If they can't find game or fish or find things to eat. ]

That... [ She inhales, then sighs. ] 'morals' and a 'tenderhearted nature' can only get me so far.

[ Mr Hickey is not a nice man, and he's wrong about that. She knows it's... uh, crap. Goodsir had assured her the opposite, that they were important. Morals. Kindness. Assurances that echoed the Lieutenant's words up high over the basin. That who she is is meaningful in this place, that it's important — perhaps now more than ever. She tries to remember that more than she does Mr Hickey's words. ]

He... um, got really weird about God and then got real nasty about Him. To the point he was... kinda scary. [ That was... really... something. He was so bitter about it, and then so cold. She shudders without meaning to: If I were you? I'd think it would be a good idea to find something else to talk about. Kate had let the conversation drop, and Mr Hickey had been quick to leave, thank goodness. ]

I know not to trust him. That I need to be careful. I know that, now. [ She's... trying to assure him with that. Goodsir's provided enough knowledge to arm herself with. That she needs to be careful about him. ] And I've stayed away from him since then.

[ It isn't difficult to imagine Cornelius Hickey, devil that he is, as being unkind to someone — but Edward still finds himself slightly surprised. The man keeps up a charming, kind disposition (something he now knows is just part of the farce....) It's easy to perceive him as being of good temperament and character. It's no wonder he was able to talk others into joining his rebellion against the captain. Even the steadfast sergeant of the Marines fell victim.... Solomon Tozer in particular was a shock.

And George, which was its own shock, and one that Edward has been unable to truly come to terms with.

So for him to have outright shown an unkind side to Kate..... is telling. Edward's nostrils flare again, jaw stiffening, lips tight as he looks off into the distance for a moment, eyes squinting. He's angry, so angry at the other man for this. Saying such things to Kate, frightening her. On purpose, it seems. He can't imagine it was ever for her good will; no, of course it wasn't. Mentioning the tins, running out of them... And even showing scorn of her character.... Does the man truly lack even a modicum of shame and decency....?

But of course, a large part of the anger is towards himself, as well. He hadn't shielded her enough, should have warned her early on. He was a fool. How many times now? How many times has he looked back with regret?

....He can't dwell on that now. No, this is much more alarming than his own agonies with himself; Hickey could very well see Kate as a target now. He's looking back to her, features still tight, angry, the usual warmth of his brown eyes darker — but through the anger comes a sort of desperation. 'Scary', she says. He got to that point. Angry? Personally offended? Any of those things could mean that Kate is now in danger. ]

It's good that you've kept away from him. That's very wise of you. [ He nods quickly; the praise is sincere. She's incredibly smart, Miss Kate Marsh. She doesn't look for trouble, either; she's a good, decent, kind person. And none of those traits are a damnable thing, thank you very much, Mr. Hickey!!!! But Edward's fear has him looking stricken again, eyes wide as he turns urgently to Kate and leans in close, as though forming a protective barrier around the two of them. ]

He is exceptionally dangerous. Moreso than even I had realised, for a very long time. He is a devil. [ It's not a word used lightly, where he's from. But he knows what Hickey is capable of. What he'll do to a person. ]

If he... says anything to you again, or if you feel threatened by him in any way, unsafe, you must inform me. Or if you notice him lingering around you... Even if he is only lingering around the Community Center itself—

[ He knows he sounds upset, urgent, tries to adjust his tone a little. Takes a breath, swallows. It's just... he doesn't know what to do, feels that familiar helpless ache within him. Can he guarantee this young woman's safety? Fully...? He doesn't want to scare Kate, but he needs to express the gravity of this. It's... an uncomfortable position; he deeply dislikes this. ]

....He is not like you or I. I fully believe that he would not hesitate to... remove someone he felt was in his way. [ His voice falls almost to a hush, eyes wide with severity. This man murdered a six-year-old child. It's.... unspeakable. ]

He would not care that you are young, or a woman. You must come to me, if he speaks to you again. No matter the hour. Please.

[ The praise is appreciated, even with her quiet fluster about it all. Still not good at accepting it all that much — but there's a tiny smile of appreciation before the seriousness of it all softly smothers it. Kate's head dips, hands fret with the rope of her sled. She's listening, even if she can't quite meet his eye, shifting her weight from foot to foot briefly.

He is a devil. It might not have the same weight in modern times, but it still holds weight for her — considering her beliefs. To call someone that isn't something offered so lightly, and she swallows hard at that, her lips a thin line.

She knows he probably doesn't mean to scare her about it all. That he would never intend to. But it's there, anyway. Mostly with the severity of it all, to really... drive it all home for her. The Lieutenant's dire seriousness about it all, even when he does try to soften it for her. Mr Goodsir had told her plenty, and she knows that she has to be really careful. But this is... different, in a way. Mr Goodsir and Lieutenant Little are two very different men. It's... like a warning she's never had before. And that's scary, despite how much he tries to be gentle with it all.

Of course her parents warned her of Stranger Danger, and of course she knows that there are terrible people in the world — of course she knows. But they've always existed beyond a glass pane, never crossing over, never moving into her space. Like it's almost imaginary but still real — there but not there, like some sort of strange variation of Schrödinger's Cat, in a way.

But, no. Mr Hickey walks among them. He is there, free. One of the community, despite the things he has done in his own world. Mr Hickey who has hurt people, caused the deaths of people. Who wouldn't hesitate to do the same in this place too, maybe. She can't help the slight tremble, she can't. ]

... I understand. [ It's hushed. Quiet, but clear. ] I do.

[ It takes her another moment, wavering a little. But she does look up at him again, nodding — a little cowed but at least able to look him in the eye again. For as much as she's frightened of Mr Hickey and what he's done, what he could do — she trusts Lieutenant Little more. Knows he'd do what he could to help, even if she's... worried about how that might go. ]

I— I really hope it doesn't come to that, that— that maybe he'll just stay away as much as I'll stay away from him. [ Avoiding one another is... honestly, super preferable. ] But— but I'll tell you if he does. I promise.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

open | leave the horror here

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cw: mention of child death

i think we could probably wrap this one?