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]

She falters, swallowing nervously at the the sight of clenched fists. Oh, he's mad. There's a short moment of hesitation before she very gently to place her hand against his.

"I... I know he's wrong." Sometimes she doubts herself, that maybe Mr Hickey does have a point. But she also knows what Edward Little told her. That there is worth in the things Mr Hickey has disdain for.

(When Kate plays violin, the Lieutenant said it reminds him of home.)

"Lieutenant Little told me that... he believes that kindness and goodness have meaning here. That they're precious things. Mr Hickey is wrong. Morals are important here, maybe... maybe more than ever."

When this place terrifies her sometimes. She's no good in a place like this. She doesn't know how to do... anything. She just wants to go home, and she prays constantly that she will. But she knows that they're stuck here, until then.

... She knows how to be kind. It doesn't feel like much, but it's worth more than she realises.

"... That's kind of... dumb." ... Yeah, it is, though. And she's making a little face at that. "Why would anyone think they'd be able to get on the good side of something that doesn't even want us here?"

[bestsir]

The touch to his hand calms him, and he is able to take another deep breath, and then another. He smiles.

"It won't surprise you to know that I agree with Lieutenant Little," he says. "Practicality will allow a man to survive, but it is kindness and goodness that allows him to live, I think."

Something he has to remind himself of every day.

"And this would not be the first time Mr. Hickey thought he could find favour with a being that does not want us here. As I said—he believes himself unique, or somehow ... blessed, or chosen."

[castitas]

She keeps her hand there for a moment longer, but looks relieved when he calms himself down and let's him go.

"I think you're right." she agrees with a little nod, smiling herself. "Don't get me wrong, surviving's great and all — but what's... the point, if that's all you're doing? We're more than that."

Mr Hickey did not get that memo, she guesses.

"You mean... he's tried something like this before? Or... wanted to? There's... things like that, in your world?"

Beings...? The idea of it makes her shrink back a little, frightened of it. But everything else she's heard sounds so... normal. There isn't even anything like that back home for her, well— except the weird snow that happened the day before she came here. But that's different.

[bestsir]

"Not like this, not exactly."

He leans against the counter and looks around to ensure there are no eavesdroppers.

"This—I must ask you to be discreet," he says. "I have no wish to cause further trouble with Mr. Hickey, but I want you to understand how dangerous he can be. And this tale will seem fantastical, but I assure you that it is true.

"One of our men accidentally shot a Netsilik man—a priest—and that man was—I should say that some of this is conjecture on my part, for the one person who could have told me in detail—I wished to respect her people's customs, and it was not something of which she'd speak to outsiders. But the priest had a sort of ... familiar, or spirit partner, in the shape of a monstrous bear. I believe his daughter tried to bind herself to it, as her father had—but it rejected her. In talking to Mr. Hickey here, I have learned that he thinks he can succeed where she failed. That the creature will accept—that it wants him."

[castitas]

In all honesty, if she'd been hearing this all back home — she wouldn't have believed it all that much. Given the fact they've all been dumped here, she's a little more willing to believe in such a thing. Still, it's... difficult to follow along, and it's clear enough in her shifting expressions: confusion, bewilderment, a little fear. It's certainly real fantastical.

But she does try her best to follow along. It's important, and she has no reason to believe he's lying to her about anything. And in turn, she keeps her own voice low and she tries to work through it.

"So he wants to... bind himself, to this... bear spirit from a whole other culture? Like a— a wizard or something?" ... she really is trying. "And he thinks it's going to work, even when this bear spirit rejected the priest's daughter? The person I'm guessing should have been able to, after her dad? Why wouldn't it work with her?"

And Mr Hickey thinks he can do something similar with the Voice that wants them all gone. He... really thinks he's Super Special. There's a beat, before she very weakly adds:

".... I think Mr Hickey maybe needs to talk to a therapist, or something."

[bestsir]

He nods as she recapitulates what he's just said—good, yes, she's understanding—and then she pulls him up short with what she says.

"...What is a therapist?"

had to hit this back immediately because i'm laughing so much

[castitas]

Her mouth opens and then promptly closes. Oh, shoot— yeah, wait that's... not a thing yet, isn't it? It's... um, well— asylums are a thing, aren't they? Kate does her very best not to cringe a little at the thought.

"It's like—" How does she describe this. "A medical professional, who specialises in a person's mental health. Therapy is where you talk about stuff. Like when you feel anxious or depressed or..."

In Mr Hickey's case:

"... delusions of grandeur."

[bestsir]

The field of mental health is still very much in its infancy in Goodsir's day—but he is aware of the Royal Edinburgh Hospital, and how its superintendent Dr. MacKinnon—rather than locking up the inmates in cells, Bedlam-fashion—seeks to engage them in healthier pursuits; crafts, gardening, and so forth. So he at least somewhat grasps what Kate is getting at, though he has a difficult time understanding anxiety or depression as anything other than an emotional state rather than a health condition.

Still, at least the last bit makes sense.

"So a physician but of the mind, rather than the body," he says, and laughs hollowly. "Such a physician would find Mr. Hickey a fascinating case indeed, I imagine."

[castitas]

"Yeah, basically that." she confirms with a nod. "It kinda sucks there isn't one who's like that here. It'd... probably make everyone's lives a little easier."

But... looks like they're all stuck here, with no therapists, and Mr Hickey. Kate sighs a little, shaking her head.

"I'm just... going to try to avoid him." she tells him. "Well, the best I can, considering we're all in one place."

[bestsir]

"Do so," he says. "And if you must speak to him, assume at all times that he has some other, more selfish motive. He cannot be trusted."

we can maybe wrap this one?

[castitas]

Kate nods, her expression grim for a moment. She understands. It's not a pleasant thought. But she's thoughtful for a bit, they could probably both do with not thinking about Mr Hickey for a little while.

"... Would you like to help me decant this?" She motions to the pan of syrup, still hot but now cooling a little. "I've got bottles and jars drying in the oven, they should be ready now."

Works for me!

[bestsir]

"Of course." He smiles; it's like when he was a boy and sometimes helped his aunt and mother with their preserves. Happy to leave thoughts of Hickey behind for the moment, he gets to work.