this empty northern hemisphere

[singmod]

NOVEMBER 2024 EVENT

PROMPT ONE — STRANGERS: The Darkwalker returns to directly target Interlopers by stripping away the very things that make them who they are.

PROMPT TWO — NO EXIT: Interlopers find themselves trapped within the bowels of the earth, with no way out, except one.

PROMPT THREE — LAST SUNSET OF THE YEAR: As the long night draws in, Interlopers find a way to bring about some festive cheer to chase off the chill and darkness.

STRANGERS

WHEN: The month of November
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: mental manipulation; memory loss; loss of self/identity; potential identity crisis; potential personality changes; possible themes of depression; possible themes of suicide.

”They failed.”

For some, they have heard this voice before many times. For others they have only heard the voice upon their arrival into this place. An old voice, deep and dark and ancient. Something impossible, older than the earth itself. The one that floats into your ears and nestles there, sending an ice-cold shiver down your spine. Even to the most stoic and unshakeable souls, it is an unnerving voice. It feels wrong. It feels like an ending. It is the very same voice that spoke to you, right from the start. The words all Interlopers share with one another: You are the Interloper. You are not part of nature’s design.

They failed, and you realise just who ‘they’ are — the Forest Talkers. Mallory slumped in a cabin, slowly bleeding out.

”Interloper.”.

The voice that wants you gone. The one that wants to get rid of you. The Darkwalker.

”Inconsequential. They have gone into the Dark. As will you. As will all.”

The words hang in the air for a moment before it continues.

“What are you truly, Interloper?” it asks you. ”Or rather…. who are you? Take it away, and what are you left with?”

You feel your hands shake, you can’t seem to breathe. What does it mean?

”Perhaps nothing worth keeping, perhaps then you will finally see. Maybe you will finally understand your place. And perhaps then you will go into the Dark.”


You remember those words, and they linger within your mind in the days that follow.

It happens slowly, like the sea erodes the cliff face. The pieces come away, everything within you is slowly undone. Not an instant, but an insidious thing. You begin to forget things, about yourself, about the others around you.

You know you have loved ones, here in the Northern Territories, or even the ones waiting for you back home, but you cannot recognise their faces. You cannot recall the colour of a daughter’s hair, or the dimpled smile of a brother. You do not remember your father’s eyes, or your mother’s laugh. You cannot recall their names, their voices.

You do not remember those around you here in this world. You look upon a friend and see a stranger. You cannot recall the trials you have gone through together and come out the other side from. You cannot remember every shared moment, every small and brief moment of joy or compassion or hope. A hug, a hand held, a joke, a kind word, an apology.

Or perhaps you cannot remember any good thing you ever did. You cannot recall any act of kindness or goodness you brought into the world. You cannot recall your good deeds. Everything falls away from you, and you are left wondering who you are, what kind of person you are. Are you a good person? Or a bad person? Perhaps you’re a terrible person, after all. One who should not be here. Why should someone who has done nothing good with their life be here in this place?

Perhaps the Darkwalker is right. Take it all away, and who are you? What is left of you? Who are you if you cannot remember any goodness of you? If you cannot remember the connections you have made in this place? If you cannot remember the love of those back home?

Is it anything worth keeping? Is it anything that’s worth staying?

For some, it may be too much. Despair and disconnection are heavy things, and it may be too much. Perhaps they are nothing worth keeping, in the end. It may be enough to seek an end to themselves. Maybe it would be best to slip quietly into the Long Dark, after all.

It is a terrible trick, but it is one that can be broken. The Darkwalker’s hold has been broken before, and perhaps it can be broken again. Even if you do not remember yourself, the ones around you do. Leaning on those you are close to and talking with slowly pull the pieces of yourself back to you. The Darkwalker has power, but the testament of Interlopers is their persistence in this world, and that has power, too. Given enough time, and patience, and care — those around you may finally make you whole once more.

NO EXIT

WHEN: The month of November
WHERE: Everywhere...?
CONTENT WARNINGS: forced honesty; claustrophobic situations; nyctophobic/scotophobic situations; themes of peril; caves/possible cave-ins; themes of starvation/dehydration; themes of imprisonment

It starts with strange happenings at night, things left to be found by the next morning. Those within Lakeside many find themselves unsurprised You don’t remember falling asleep. You’re sure you were wide awake only seconds before, but when you open your eyes, confused and groggy, you are met with a strange kind of darkness. The kind that seems thick and endless, and you stare into it, trying to get your eyes to adjust but nothing seems to shift in your vision.

The air is stale, and there’s a scent of old, damp stone that clings to it. As you move around, trying to get your bearings, the room echoes oddly and it doesn’t take long to realise that you’re in some kind of cave atrium. And soon enough, someone else is waking up — you’re not alone in this place.

Moving around is difficult, and it’s best to use your body to try to navigate yourself. Testing the way out carefully with hands and feet. Maybe you have something on your by chance to help you light your way — a lighter, a pocket flashlight, matches. However, which way you try to feel out the atrium, you both soon come to the same conclusion: no matter how hard you try, there is no exit. No tunnel or passage out from the atrium, nothing.

You are both entirely trapped within this one space.

For a while, you sit in the atrium. Maybe you sit in silence, maybe you speak over what looks to be the inevitable: you’re doomed to die here, whether you suffocate or die of dehydration or starvation. You and your companion — familiar or strangers —

Out of nowhere, comes a scraping against the stone. You turn to find that on one of the walls, there is light — a ghost writing on the wall, carving into the stone to reveal letters that will glow dimly:

THE TRUTH WILL SET YOU FREE

For some, this feels eerily familiar. Those who have been in the Northern Territories have dealt with something similar: a game of truths, a game of deadly consequences. There is no Jackal-headed being, no chains, no blood. This time, there is the truth or there is waiting to die. For others who aren’t familiar, it may take some working out. Maybe it’s best to talk, after all.

Opting for silence will find that nothing will change in the cave’s atrium. You will be left, waiting to die in the half-gloom. Strangely, speaking any lies will find that the cave will rumble ominously, and with enough — rock will begin fall down from above, almost as the place is slowly caving in. As if the stone itself knows if your words are truthful or not.

But as the words say, the truth will set you free. If you say enough, speak your truth, you will find yourselves noting a shift on the air — a crisp, freshness that drifts in from one direction. Heading through that way will bring you to a tunnel that had not been there before, and with it — you will find your exit, out into the wilds of Milton’s region.

LAST SUNSET OF THE YEAR

WHEN: Preparations throughout November; November 26th.
WHERE: Milton Community Hall
CONTENT WARNINGS: drinking/alcohol; mentions of survival situations relating to AMC's The Terror.

As November begins to draw to a close, the daylight hours grow shorter and shorter. From the start of the month, there is less than seven hours of daylight and that number becomes smaller and smaller as the month goes on. The world is darker and colder, and the long night draws nearer — when the sun will not rise, and the Northern Territories exist in total darkness, save for the spare hours of twilight.

For some, it is not the first time they’ve experienced the darkness of winter. For a select few, they have known the darkness only too well — the bitterness, the hopelessness, the hunger for the dawn. But even in the dark, there are sparks of light — the crackles of fires to fight off the night and cold, or in a more figurative sense… the spark of an idea, another way to fight off the night and cold.

As the day shrinks, the idea grows. There is little to be cheerful of in the Northern Territories. Interlopers are tormented endlessly in this place: supernatural beings, harsh weather, precarious food situations, nightmares, the Forest Talkers and whatever mysteries lie within the Aurora. Survival is a persistence, but people are exhausted. Francis Crozier, former Captain of HMS Terror knows this more than anyone. A veteran, and a survivor of an ill-fated expedition— he has seen what becomes of those with low morale, when the darkness seems so thick and endless. He has seen many horrors.

This time, though, it can be different. This is not his world. These are not starving and maddened men, women and children. It is not Carnivale.

Over the month of November, plans are made and slowly bear fruit. Help is wrangled from Interlopers where they can — food preparation, decorations, musicians. Interlopers are encouraged to add their personal touches, country, culture, customs, to all that they plan. The only thing that’s insisted upon is light, so much light: lanterns, candles, torches, mirrors, sculptures made of ice that catch the glimmer of the nearby fires. The evening will glow.

There isn’t so much a ‘dress code’, per say. But Interlopers are encouraged to dress up for the occasion. Maybe hunting around in the homes of former Milton residents may prove lucky — with some rather dated formal-wear that has remained forgotten in the back of closets. It’s vintage, is all.

On November 26th, there is less than an hour of daylight. The crowds gather to watch the sun set after it has barely risen before the festivities begin.

The food is simple and hearty, much like what can be found at Methuselah’s feasts. While pine wine has been brought along, hot tea is also available—both can keep the chill away. Crozier digs into his stores to share all, a promise to every person as they descend into darkness: no Interloper will go hungry this winter.

There’s dancing, of course, an area cleared and illuminated with torches. There’s an insistence on a party thrown in open air, no canvas to obscure the stars, though inside the Community Hall the warmth calls to those needing a break from the chill.

It is important to remember that the last sunset of the year is not the reminder of the darkness ahead, but the promise of the first sunrise of the next.

FAQs

STRANGERS


1. While the Darkwalker Ward Talismans anointed with Interloper blood (first created by Heartman earlier in the year) will help ward off the worst of the Darkwalker's influence, Interlopers will still find themselves vulnerable to this kind of influence — particularly if their spirits are low, or if they've found themself questioning themselves or their relationships around them as of late. Interlopers who do not have Talismans (this is a handwaved thing) will fall victim very easily to the Darkwalker's influence.

2. There are three ways players can play with this plot: they can go with a loss of self, the loss of game-cr or the loss of canon relationships/canon story. Players can go with whatever way they see fit. They can also go with the nuclear option of all three, or a mix of the three.

NO EXIT

1. The truths need to be meaningful in some way in order to secure freedom. 'Small truths' will not be enough.

2. Either both or one of the characters can speak their truth in order to free themselves from the cave.

LAST SUNSET OF THE YEAR

1. A big thank you to Gels for reaching out and helping with this prompt!

2. Characters will be able to find 'formal wear' of a sort within Milton. Bear in mind that a great deal of the fashion within Milton is dated, with a lot of the clothing being decades old that the original residents of Milton would have carefully kept safe. For a rough idea, nothing would be from anything later than the late-00's.

3. Players are free to write out any preparation threads as well as party threads! This could be outfit hunting; resource gathering for food, etc.; or making decorations for the Community Hall.

PLOTTING POST

Comments

[gildedlife]

James has a similar reaction upon hearing Hickey's voice, his general dismay at the situation first earning a new layer of irritation before the feeling shifts more toward dread. He does not want to be telling secrets to anyone, let alone someone like Hickey, who can and will likely use it to his advantage in some way. In fact, this is just about worst case scenario, and it's little comfort that Hickey clearly isn't happy about this either.

He also clearly knows what's going on, so at least they can skip that part and get to the point before the words even appear. In theory, anyway.

"What do you believe he might've told us?" James isn't really even sure what Hickey's getting at--the whole story during the meeting had been endlessly depressing but not particularly focused on Hickey--but even if he were, he has no intention of making this easy.

[friendsfordinner]

"All the things I would have initially gone with in this situation," Hickey points out, with a shrug. "Putting Billy out of his misery. The cannibalism. Goodsir."

Because of course Crozier must have told Fitzjames that. Fitzjames missed the worst of it, the worst of the mutiny. Oh, he probably talked around bits of it: the Goodsir of it all, for example. But what happened to Billy would certainly have been mentioned. Hickey suspects that the lieutenants still hold delusions of removing Billy from his devious influence (as if Billy wasn't the first one to make some of the more devious suggestions). It wouldn't surprise him if Crozier did as well.

"Course, if you don't know anything about that, I will happily elaborate further. We both know it's going to be me who gets us out of this anyway."

Because Hickey's the only person on the goddamn expedition who believes in getting things done.

[gildedlife]

Ah. Yes, he's heard all of this, but like much of... Pretty much everything else, there's been a level of compartmentalizing and repression that James has adopted as a part of his own attempts to survive. He can't linger too much on the horror or it will become all-encompassing, and there's no useful, acceptable way to channel it into anything else; anger is the only other real emotion that comes to him about any of this, and it does so in particular at the mention of Goodsir. What he'd been driven to think he had to do, all because Hickey had wanted the crew's only remaining doctor.

He's about to comment on that particular fact, though without details--although Hickey's surely aware of Goodsir's actions, whether because he's from a time far enough to have experienced them or because Billy likely relayed the information--when Hickey continues, and that gives him an even better way to respond. Mocking disdain always feels a little better to him than a true loss of his temper, and considering the situation he's entirely willing to allow himself that much.

"Save your self-pity, Mr. Hickey. As I understand it you accomplished very little other than a host of murders, only to then die as a direct result of your own hubris, and neither course of action will be of benefit in this situation."

The words claiming that the truth will set them free begin to glow on a wall nearby, an almost humorous backdrop to the absolute lack of cooperation going on so far.

[friendsfordinner]

"'S not self-pity," Hickey points out, with a roll of his eyes. "It's the truth. Say what you will about my actions but I at least tried to get information on that bear while the rest of you were twiddling your thumbs. I told my men about the debility in the tins days before Crozier did. Honestly, considering how you lot, you officers, seemed perfectly content to sit around and do nothing, it's a wonder we didn't have a mutiny before mine."

Especially because deep in his heart, Hickey knows the only reason Crozier told the men about the illness in the food was because if he didn't, Hickey from his place at the gallows would. If there wasn't the chance of him being hanged, how long would the officers let the rest of the men continue to unintentionally poison themselves? Days? Weeks?

It's not Hickey's fault that in his mind, he's the only person back home who actively worked to change their circumstances. It's not his fault he's the only one who took some fucking initiative.

"But fine. You say I wouldn't benefit us so fine. You go first."

He would bet good money whatever Fitzjames does next won't be enough.

[gildedlife]

James knows he should just let Hickey rant and not bother to argue, but that would require more self-control than he cares to exhibit, and arguing also provides a convenient way of stalling the inevitable. So not only is what he responds with not good enough, he doesn't even acknowledge the invitation to go first, circling back to the first part of what Hickey said; he doesn't address the issue of the tins, as although he does understand why Francis made that decision James has somewhat mixed feelings on it, but the part about attempts to gain information on the creature is easier to argue.

"We had already made plans to speak with the Netsilik girl the following morning, and in fact, it was Lieutenant Irving who proposed the idea. So your actions were not only foolish, but entirely unnecessary." So there. James is leaving out that he also suggested going out into the storm immediately, likely at almost the exact same time Hickey was organizing his own little mission, but fortunately the omission isn't an untruth in what he said and so the cavern doesn't react.

It does, however, finally give them the message they don't need at this point, though the glow in itself is at least helpful.

[friendsfordinner]

As he spots the glow on the corner of his vision, Hickey looks over by instinct. 'The truth will set you free.' As far as he's concerned, he's said the truth all along. It's the truth filtered through all of Hickey's everything, but it's still the truth to him. And Fitzjames...Fitzjames said that they had made plans to speak to that girl and, to be fair, the cavern isn't reacting. But there's a big difference between plans on doing something and actually doing something. Crozier had a plan to walk out and look where that got him: nowhere.

And, just as important, they're still stuck here.

There's a part of Hickey who wants to keep going, wants to see just how long it would take before Fitzjames caves. But the practical part of his brain runs out: Fitzjames isn't going to do anything. Why would he? Men like that, they don't do things. Things happen to them, things happen for them. So Hickey frowns, looks at the glow on the wall, takes it all in, before deciding on a truth to tell.

Hell. Billy knows this already. Crozier does as well. Give it a month and Fitzjames might as well. Best to get ahead of the curve.

"I'm not Irish," Hickey says, almost out of nowhere. His gaze is still focused on the writing on the wall, as if he expects it to glow green or give him a prize or do something once the truth is revealed. "Everything about me—name, rank, ethnicity, it's a fraud. I'm a fake who joined up solely to get out of England."

The words on the wall aren't doing anything. But Hickey can feel a shift in the air. Nothing big enough, and he doesn't know where it's coming from. But that did something.

That also means that Fitzjames is going to have ten billion questions but again, fuck it, it's either get through this or die in a cave.

[gildedlife]

James is, of course, expecting further argument in return; perhaps the airing of a different grievance, or zeroing in on the fact that James had avoided the topic of the tins. But then Hickey starts speaking again, and the words are so unexpected that it takes a moment for them to process, and then several more to actually sink in.

He shouldn't be surprised, really, that Hickey would do something like lie about his identity to accomplish a goal, and ultimately he isn't. He just hadn't put any thought into this possibility, never really questioned that Hickey was who he said he was aside from hiding what he's capable of, and so this is a bit of a shock.

It certainly has nothing to do with the fact that some of those admissions were--with minor changes--ones that James could've made himself.

Hickey is right that James has a lot of questions about this, both from actual curiosity and as a continued attempt to stall the dread that's slowly settling in. He too felt the change in the pressure of the room, and knows that Hickey's side of the deal has been fulfilled, but hasn't been enough.

"How is that possible? Did you fake your entire service record?" James had been the one to choose the vast majority of the Expedition's crew, although he'd never met most of them; he isn't jumping immediately to the idea that Hickey isn't actually Cornelius Hickey, but rather that he somehow faked his qualifications, something that is perhaps unintentionally telling.

[friendsfordinner]

Fortunately, he's speaking to Cornelius 'which way is the orlop' Hickey. Faking service records sounds like something people might do. It's easy enough to fake things, after all, why not include service records as a part of it?

At Fitzjames's question, however, Hickey shakes his head. "Cornelius Hickey was a caulker's mate. Cornelius Hickey had a record. And when I chatted up Cornelius Hickey in a pub, he told me all about the voyage. One winter in the Arctic and then you're off to Maui, the Sandwich Islands, all those places you've only seen in the dailies."

Hickey is deliberately calm and casual as he continues with, "So I dabbed Cornelius Hickey, left him in the canal, then took his place."

[gildedlife]

He knows, obviously, that Hickey is a murderer; it's something he hasn't forgotten, and doesn't forgive, and only ignores day to day because there's little he can do about it. So it shouldn't be a surprise that this is another murder, but for some reason, it feel differently. Perhaps it's that the others had been during the extreme situation of the Expedition, with illness and lead poisoning and starvation and stress all wearing them down, and although it isn't an excuse for murder it's still somewhat different than this. Different from killing someone to steal their identity simply to go to a tropical island.

James realizes, suddenly, that he probably should just end Hickey. It's just the two of them here, and there's a very high chance that he could not just manage it but get away with it. He'd be eliminating a threat, and not just one that might resort to violence under extreme circumstances, but on a whim. Hickey isn't even actually one of his crew, so even that moral obligation--one that has been present, if dampened--feels entirely unwarranted. There's no real reason he shouldn't do it.

But he doesn't. He doesn't even move for his knife, and instead responds in his own controlled but far more tense tone.

"I chose all but a few names on the crew rosters, for both ships. All of the men who you have murdered were a part of this Expedition because I personally selected them."

He isn't saying it to make Hickey feel guilty or anything of the sort--he doesn't believe for a moment that's something that would happen--and in fact he's not entirely certain why he does say it. But perhaps it's a warning, in some sense; it had been personal before, what Hickey had done to Irving and all the others, and it isn't as though James actually knew the real Cornelius Hickey, but something about this new knowledge has changed things. That James hadn't also selected this Hickey, that he was an imposter who had killed his way onto Terror and then simply continued to cause as much harm as suited him.

[friendsfordinner]

...is that supposed to make Hickey apologize? Is it supposed to make him realize the errors of his ways? Because it's not. There's no use trying to apologize for killing the real Cornelius Hickey, kidnapping that girl, stabbing Irving, mercy-killing Billy. They were what he thought was the best choice at the time. If he knew more, then he might make different choices. But he didn't, so the choices were that.

Hickey has no idea how to read Fitzjames's statement. But there's something in there, something about what he says, that even someone as navally ignorant as Hickey can point out as suspect.

"No wonder Crozier was such a miserable bastard at the start of it all," Hickey muses. "You're third in line. He's second. Should have picked the men before you did, yeah? For all the grief that I've been given about having ideas above my rank, you're just as bad."

Idly, he can't help but wonder what Fitzjames did to get that level of control. Because Fitzjames shouldn't have chosen the majority of people on the crew rosters, right? At least, he shouldn't have picked the lot on Terror. That's not his ship. And Hickey doesn't know much about Crozier's preference in lieutenants, but he suspects the man would have chosen literally anybody over Edward Little, a man incapable of making a single decision.

[gildedlife]

If he didn't already hold such disdain for Hickey, even discounting the newly added height of it now, James might've been slightly impressed by the deduction and the implication Hickey gleans from it. And were the situation different, he might've denied it, tried to twist it around and tamp down on the truth Hickey is getting far too close to.

But they're in this ridiculous, semi-sentient, gossip-loving cavern, and he can't directly lie without risking both of them. And what does it matter what Hickey knows? None of the others would believe him, and James doesn't really care what Hickey thinks of him, at least not beyond his own need to soothe his ego by keeping the upper hand.

"Perhaps you should've made yourself more likeable, and then your reckless initiative might've been seen as innovative heroics rather than insubordinate foolishness." Because, as he'd said to Francis what feels like forever ago, it had all been vanity. He'd made people like him, made them be impressed by him, made them want to know him and have the glory of helping him attain greatness. And so he'd been promoted over and over, won the approval of people in power, and maybe had a hand in covering up a scandal. At least he hadn't resorted to murder.

[friendsfordinner]

"Dunno what you mean by more likeable," Hickey idly muses. As he talks, he removes his glove from his left hand as he points out, "I'm likeable enough where it matters."

And don't mind Hickey as he goes to adjust his hair, pushing it back behind his ear, in a way where the little glow of the writing reflects off his wedding ring on his now bare hand just so. Fitzjames might call him insubordinate, Fitzjames might call him foolish and unlikeable, but at the end of the day, who's the one who's got someone to go back home to? Certainly isn't Fitzjames.

Besides, he was likeable enough in the end. You don't convince ten or so people to join your mutiny if nobody likes you. And really, despite that forced confession, Fitzjames doesn't know him. He knows him the least out of their lovely little crew of Terrors this world has gathered. So the remark doesn't cut as deep if someone else, if a different member of the crew had said it.

After all, Hickey never wanted to impress Fitzjames.

"Give me grief all you want, but I cannot fail to notice that we're still in the bloody cave."

[gildedlife]

James had been ignoring the whole marriage thing, as much as he had actually been slightly tempted to show up to the party for it, even if just for the food. But showing off the ring is just so... Well, it's kind of pathetic, in a way. Not that he's found someone willing to commit themselves to him--though James cannot understand what could've possibly convinced Billy to do such a thing--but more just something about the way he's not-at-all-subtly flashing it in the low light.

Or perhaps it isn't pathetic, and the emotion James is feeling is something else he doesn't care to analyze.

Either way, Hickey is unfortunately correct: they're still in the cave, because James hasn't actually admitted something strong enough to count; after all, it's not exactly a secret that James uses charm to earn favor with superiors. But he'd never really expected that statement to be enough anyway, and had meant it as something of a precursor to the actual confession he knows the cavern wants. And with everything Hickey had admitted, James has a feeling he knows exactly how much he has to say too.

He reminds himself that it doesn't matter if Hickey knows, and finally decides to stop stalling.

"I'm not entirely English." It's a mirror to Hickey's first admission, though not the entire truth, and before the cave can do more than rustle a very pebbles loose he continues. "It's likely my mother was Portuguese, but I don't know for certain, as she was not my father's wife."

The words have a recited quality to them, as he focuses on the content of them only, without any deeper thought or emotion. And as Hickey had admitted more, James doesn't even bother to pause in hopes of the cavern accepted that truth as enough, continuing with slightly easier admissions that allow him to distract from the first.

"I purposefully misrepresented my early service records and attained the rank of midshipman without fulfilling the requirements. And I was promoted to Commander due to earning a favor from the son of a high-ranking Admiralty official."

Vague, perhaps, but honest representations of what happened, and it seems they're enough. The unmistakable feeling of a faint, cold breeze drifts through the cave.

[friendsfordinner]

Oh. This is interesting.

Hickey's eyes shine with a worrying excitement at James's admission. Faking one's ethnicity, misrepresenting one's record, doing whatever it takes to get ahead...yeah, kissing ass and sucking up to the Admiralty is different from murder and kidnapping, but put James Fitzjames in a different situation, take that silver spoon out of his mouth, and Hickey wonders just how far that drive, that desire would take him.

Hickey puts his glove back on as he listens to James talk, taking in every word, every truth offered. This is delightful. Odd and worrying in the sense that hey, this is all weirdly familiar. But delightful anyway, as it's new information. Something new to learn. A small scrap of information that Hickey can use or deploy as needed. He views the entire world as tools in his arsenal, as things he can use to make his life better, and though he doesn't know how this particular tool will play out, he'd be foolish to overlook the admission.

This also means that he's staring at James with a weird, bright, intense expression, as he looks at the man with new eyes. It's the bright buzziness of someone who chugged an energy drink or is running solely off of adrenaline. It's an intense, obsessed expression that Francis Crozier has absolutely seen before, but James Fitzjames might not have.

"Why were you offered a favor? What did you do?" He can feel the breeze, so Hickey knows that there's a chance James just might not answer. But Hickey answered James's clarifying questions. Whatever rules govern this place, whatever god brought them here and set them to it, Hickey has faith that they'll give him just as much as he gave.

[gildedlife]

James is not surprised Hickey might be thrilled with this information, because of course he would be; back home this sort of thing would be immense leverage, and he has no doubt Hickey would have no qualms about using it. But James is relying on there being very little power in this information here, the only possible way to use it against him being to tell the others, and James truly only cares for the opinions of Francis, Goodsir, and the lieutenants. Of them Francis already knows, and although it might be something of a surprise to the others, he wants to believe that it would be considered ultimately unimportant in the face of everything they'd gone through.

But that doesn't mean he likes that look Hickey is giving him. James likes attention to be on him, but only when it's the image he created, not when it feels like someone is seeing through him.

The question, at least, provides a distraction, even if James turns to begin looking for the newly opened passageway. "Of everything, that is most interesting to you?" His tone is dry, because perhaps somewhere there's some sort of inherent humor in Hickey focusing on what James considers the least important or potentially distressing part of all of this. But as it is the least important, he doesn't resist answering. "I paid a bribe to ensure that a situation he'd found himself in would be resolved smoothly." Ultimately very standard high-society corruption, not anything all that noteworthy if it weren't also tied to his promotion.

[friendsfordinner]

"Bastards are easy enough to find," Hickey points out. "Commanders aren't."

Of course that's what's most interesting. Growing up with Hickey's class, his circumstances, you couldn't throw a rock without hitting a bastard. That's the most boring thing about James Fitzjames. His prestige, his position... that's what's interesting.

Except... it isn't. Bribery? That's it? That's... so ordinary. He thought it would be something more interesting. It should be more interesting.

"Though really, hearing that story, dunno if I'd call anything about you interesting."

[gildedlife]

There's always a part of him that flinches whenever he hears the word, but because he'd always been so careful to guard this secret, he'd never heard 'bastard' actually directed at him. And sure, it's not like Hickey's saying it in a particularly pointed way, but that doesn't mean it isn't still something of a shock and he's glad that he's facing away from the other man at the moment.

The next remark, although seemingly meant as far more of an insult than the first, is far less so, and it's easy to regain some sense of control of the situation through some unimpressed sarcasm.

"Unfortunate. I value your opinion so highly."

And he thinks he's found the tunnel, a glimmer of distant light far as the end of a winding passage.

[friendsfordinner]

If Fitzjames makes for the exit, Hickey will also. That being said, you go first. Hickey trails behind Fitzjames, letting the intrepid commander take lead (or trip, or fall down a chasm.) He follows behind, eyes on that sliver of light as well, as if it would vanish the moment he stopped looking. That doesn't mean he won't continue conversation, though.

"Sarcasm's useless. I know you never valued my opinion to begin with," Hickey points out, as he continues to walk, keeping up an idle pace. "The only time you cared enough to give me the time of day was when I brought that native girl aboard. Doubt you valued the opinion of any of us who weren't officer class." There's a pause before he muses, "If this place hasn't robbed you of that nasty little tendency already, it will soon."

Rank, class, social status, all the little pleasantries of England, it didn't matter anything here. What good was a title or a favor from the Admiralty if you couldn't hunt? Couldn't fish? What use is Queen Victoria, Mary, Joseph, in a land where you might starve? This place was an equalizer, the wilderness of Milton doing what the wilderness of the Arctic failed to do. And Hickey loves it.

[gildedlife]

He does indeed begin to lead the way, carefully navigating with a hand against the wall; the light is still low enough to make it difficult to see, especially with his vision still not back to normal quite yet, but his balance and coordination have improved enough that he feels relatively confident in his footing.

"Yes, I'm aware that you are the only person capable of understanding the reality of our situation." Sarcasm may or may not be useless, but he's not about to give up on it just yet, especially not when Hickey specifically made mention of it. "And that I should have made time to visit and speak with you, specifically, on Terror, as the opinions of a murderer with no naval experience would have doubtlessly provided invaluable insight."

He might've felt defensive about the accusation were they not ones he's quite confident about; for all his faults, listening to his subordinates--officers or otherwise--has never been a problem for him, and he feels entirely justified in having little time for Terror's crew when he had an entire ship to command with the help of only one lieutenant. And that was before most of Terror's crew had then transferred to Erebus, exasperating the problem, and Hickey being one of the few not amongst them had meant any opportunity to cross paths was almost nonexistent.

[friendsfordinner]

Hickey rolls his eyes dramatically and makes a face when Fitzjames isn't looking at him. A murderer with no naval experience, whatever. If Fitzjames looks back, however, he's all neutral expressions and minimal sarcasm. No making fun, nope, not here.

"All I'm saying is that mutinies don't spring up overnight," Hickey points out, with a casual little shrug. "Say what you will about me, but you and Crozier were obviously deficient. Spend a little more time down here with the rest of us and who knows, you could have stopped it before it happened."

If a murderer with no naval experience can help get a mutiny off the ground, it says a lot about the state of things.

[gildedlife]

Although a part of James wants to argue this point, there's only so far he can defend himself without throwing Francis under the bus--or perhaps the ship, in this case--and he's unwilling to do that. But that doesn't mean he can't hit back in another way.

"Seems a waste of time and effort. We didn't need the supplies you stole, nor did we need you or the men you convinced to follow you. The only losses of note were the men you took forcibly." And so not really part of the mutiny at all. He continues to look forward, as they walk, not bothering to spare a glance backward as he adds a last comment. "Besides, as I hear it you made no better a leader then we did."

Thankfully, they're nearly to the end of the tunnel now.

[friendsfordinner]

"Lasted longer than you did," Hickey points out. Is this petty? Yes. Is this spiteful? Also yes. Does Fitzjames deserve to know that he was outlived by Cornelius Hickey? Absolutely.

"Those boots are holding up wonderfully, by the way."

Because fuck you, Fitzjames, he's still got your shoes! And you're never getting them back! And now that he can see the light, feel the breeze of outside air on his face, Cornelius Hickey is immediately reverting back to being a petty spiteful monster.

[gildedlife]

"At least my death was from illness rather than stupidity." Two can be petty!!! And thankfully, since they're no longer trapped, the cave can't sell James out on the fact that he didn't really die of illness, but whatever. At least he can keep that particular secret for now.

[friendsfordinner]

"Technically speaking, I haven't even died yet," Hickey points out. "Crozier's been telling everyone that I have, but what he remembers hasn't even happened for me."

But it is what Hickey was planning. And saw in a weird tea-based dream vision. So it's probably true? But also, it didn't happen, so suck on that.

[gildedlife]

"Then congratulations are in order, as it seems you've been given the opportunity to die of stupidity in this place instead, which is certainly an improvement."

And please do it by tripping over your stolen boots.