singillatim | open / radio killed the penmanship star

Entry tags:

open / radio killed the penmanship star

Who: Cornelius Hickey & OPEN
What: futzing with the radio, dog times, hot springs
When: throughout the month of August
Where: Milton

Content Warnings: nudity in the hot springs, will add as needed

morse code / ota
Hickey occasionally is smart. He doesn't exactly know what Morse code is, but he knows that this radio Marra gave him can only send dots and dashes. Obviously there must be some kind of language or code used, simply because it would be remarkably useless to communicate with otherwise. So, might as well do some poking around, see if there's anything useful or any code books in any outposts—Lakeside has the hydrodam, that might be useful. It takes him a while but he finds what he's looking for: a basic guide to Morse code.

Anybody who's got one of the shortwave radios that Marra gave out will soon hear a message repeated, a few times a night, as Hickey tries out his new toy (and also, more importantly, just tries to get more fluent in Morse code):

THIS IS HICKEY. CAN YOU HEAR ME?

wolf mode / ota
Every now and then, Hickey just has to cut loose and enjoy some time as a wolf. It's easier, after all. He likes Billy, he likes his human friends, and honestly it's gotten so much easier here now that certain people have died and/or vanished. But every now and then, when he's focused too much on Morse code or worried about their provisions for the winter or stuck on some boring human concern, he just takes a moment to forget all that.

Sometimes he hunts. Hickey as a wolf is small, with reddish gray fur, and a wirey build. Anybody in the wolf pack is invited—hell, there are times when Hickey goes up to his mates directly and just bluntly asks if they want to hunt this evening. There are times when Hickey can be found out in the woods, squirrel in his mouth, looking up at anybody with a 'what are you going to do about it?' sort of expression. And there are times, few and far between, when Hickey just plays. He romps in the snow, digging down with his paws, shoving his snout in before leaping and bouncing all over the place.

hot springs / ota
Hickey doesn't usually take clothes along when he's in wolf mode. He's destroyed a few too many shirts via shifting and honestly, it's a pain in the ass to get dressed in the cold. He'll go out in the afternoon then come back home at night, happy and tired, slipping through the town when most people are asleep and nobody can bother him (and, just as importantly, he can shift back into a person close to home).

So that means when Hickey decides to take a break from being a wolf and just soak in the hot springs for a moment or two, he does it buckass naked. Dick out, limbs sprawled, just absolutely enjoying his moment of relaxation.

Sorry anybody who's coming into the hot springs and who wants to relax themselves, there's a naked man lying next to the hot springs, feet in the water, back resting on one of the rocks slightly warmed by the temperature, sunning himself like a lizard. Hickey does not want to move right now.

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Hickey takes that in. He pauses, he listens, he doesn't say anything as Little awkwardly stumbles and starts through his words. He simply stares at the man, listening to what he says.

And then, with way too much casualness,

"That's it? One of my best mates has that. From the way you were talking, thought it'd be something worse!"

This is not something to be weird and upset about!

There's so much more to explain, about all of this — so many complications. But he starts there, letting the weight of what he's just confessed fill the silence, stomach tight with tension and coils of nausea. It's only when Hickey finally speaks that Little's mournful eyes find him again, coming off of the floor and staring at the other man with dumb surprise.

.............Say what now.

Little just keeps staring, completely dumbfounded. His mouth even opens and closes a few times, like he's trying to conjure up something to say but fails to find it. Finally—

"One of your... your mates? There is another with this affliction....?"

He's met Dorian, but didn't suss out the other man shared his illness... and in all his self-induced seclusion he'd missed out on that little town meeting. Little has no idea that this 'punishment' isn't his exclusively!

Almost instantly, Hickey decides that he is keeping his mouth shut about further details. The last thing Chloe needs is Little to go bother her because he's seeking penance or absolution or sympathy or something like that. She's not really a fan of the lieutenants. Best not to invite trouble.

"There's a few. There's my mate, that's one. And that Gray bloke, the one who lives at the church, he's another. He talked about it a few months ago."

This is why you don't fuck off to the wilderness out of guilt, Little.

"Mr. Gray?" The young man who'd been suffering such horrific physical effects after one of those dreams...? Little's clearly surprised to hear this, and that Hickey knows two who have this same curse.

He does know that Timothy Drake has been... touched in a similar way, but Little isn't sure that it's necessarily the same thing. (Unsurprisingly, the man who is terrified by the supernatural hasn't been digging into finding out all the truths to how this all works. If he just tries to keep himself hidden away, he doesn't have to face it, right? ....Well that hasn't exactly worked out for him...)

".....How are they.... living amongst others? This ailment, it— it comes at horrific cost. I wouldn't trust myself too long in the intimate vicinity of another." He swallows thickly, staring widely at Hickey. Does that mean he knows what it is exactly that people like him hunger for?

"I know what the ailment does," Hickey answers, matching Little confusion with a deliberate nonchalance of his own. "Mate of mine accidentally did it to me. She held on for a bit and I felt...drained. Run down. I imagine it was what some of our number felt after eating those tinned provisions."

Some of their number. Not him. Never him.

Hickey surprises himself with his next words as he continues, "But she's my mate. If this helps her out, I can feel like shit for a day or so. She's smart enough not to kill me, I can help out this way."

There's more surprise in his face to hear all of this, mixed with a bit of horror. It's certainly the same ailment; it must be. It's all too familiar.

Then a pause when Hickey mentions those tinned provisions, a flash of memory. It's still strange, even now, to think about all of it. To be reminded that he isn't the only one carrying those memories.

"I am being.... helped in a similar way. Someone is allowing me to... take from them." He winces, so ashamed it makes him sick. But this is a rare opportunity to speak to someone who has experience being the... donor, and he's studying the other man.

"Has there been any other... side effects? Anything in the longer term?"

"Can't speak for other people, but for me? Nothing." Hickey gives Little a cavalier little shrug as he continues. While the lieutenant is about to have a mental breakdown, Hickey's talking about this like he's talking about the weather. No big deal! Things happen! Occasionally your bestie zaps your energy!

"I felt like shit for a day, but that's about it."

If only Little could have an ounce of your chill, Hickey....

"It's no small sacrifice, though. Feeling so unwell." He lifts his brows, still horrified and startled by all of this, but there might be something slightly impressed to it, too. That Hickey would so be so.... accommodating about this.

"You truly do not fear it? That someone would... hunger for you?"

Oddly, in this conversation, Hickey thinks of Hodgson. Hodgson, sitting alone at Mutiny Camp. Hodgson, who Hickey knows loathed himself for consuming Billy and yet he did it anyway. Hodgson who hated everything and hated their situation and hated Hickey but knew where the die fell. Who even after everything, still wanted to live. Hodgson's one up on Little in this regard—after all, Hodgson ate.

Hickey has a vague idea of how this gift works. Chloe felt fantastic after draining him a bit—practically bursting with energy compared to Hickey's lethargy. Little would be the same. Little could be the same, if only he gave up on those pesky morals. Edward Little was never a man that anybody could describe as 'energetic.' Idly, Hickey wonders what that would look like.

"Why should I fear it?" Hickey shrugs. "Half dozen things here could kill me. Weather. Wolves. Darkwalker. If I spent time cowering in fear, avoiding all of them, I couldn't get anything done. A gift like yours is just another entry on the list of things to approach carefully, nothing more."

It truly stuns him, as it has stunned him for all of this time. The things the other man lists are horrific, but how can they compare to feeding on another? Yes, much of this weight comes from a moral standing, from certain cultural norms, from the horror of breaking those norms. Cannibalism is... well it's unfathomable. Unspeakable. And this may not involve consuming flesh or blood, but it's still taking from a human being. From a life.

"A gift," he echoes, faintly. Something in him twists unpleasantly, some need to make Hickey understand.

For the first time in his life, he finds himself using the other man's name.

"Cornelius. I speak to you as a fellow survivor of our... circumstances before this place. As one of the very few remaining of our original number." A lump in his throat staggers his words for a moment. Jopson is gone now, too. And Crozier is... he's dead.

"My... hunger exists for you, too. I feel it for you now, as strongly as I feel it for William. I could eat you alive." ....Calm down there, Ned... But he needs him to know the severity, eyes wide and intense, focused on the other man. He needs to warn him.

"Even you should feel fear."

It is so interesting how when faced with something they don't understand, that they don't know how to deal with, some men turn to fear. Tozer, shaking in their tent, trying to explain that he saw tuunbaq eat a man's soul. Hodgson unable to deal with their situation, cowering and cowing, letting the chains of command slip through his hand. Hell, Hickey managed to manipulate that back at camp. Those natives killed Irving, they could be out there, they'll come for you next, best to get the guns and listen to him.

Hickey doesn't know if he's ever felt fear for the unknown. Just curiosity. Just a drive to see how he can make it for him. Little talks about things like this, he talks like they're terrifying, horrifying. But Hickey doesn't feel fear. And certainly not towards Little.

"I talked with the men at our camp. Armitage. Tozer. Told me that you had a musket pointed at Tozer, that day we were supposed to hang but that bear attacked. You could have shot him. Should have shot him. But you didn't."

And that's why Hickey isn't afraid. Little could eat him alive. But he wouldn't. That hunger could frighten him, but only if attached to a different man.

"I could turn into a wolf, you know. Right here. Right now. Shift into that form and rip your throat open without a moment's hesitation. You know I could do it. And you know you wouldn't be able to stop me. So do you feel fear, Edward?"

It's rare — in fact, this is the first time — that someone else has recounted that moment, rather than Little having to tell it to them. It's clear that Hickey's words have an effect on him, something surprised, then wounded, flinching across his features. No matter what, he'll always look back on that day with self-loathing. But now he does know what it means to be on the other side.

He stares at Hickey, knowing that the words are true. The animosity between them isn't what it once was, and he's even been able to form something of a... friendship(?) partnership(?) with the other man — namely as wolves. But he doesn't doubt for an instant that Hickey is capable of that degree of violence towards him. He steels himself, quietly; yes, he feels fear, but he's more desperate to keep this community safe.

"I am not the same man I once was. You must understand this." It's not said with any pride; he sounds miserable as he voices this aloud. "I... attacked someone here, mere months ago. Someone... very precious to me. I lost control of my facilities, and fed from her. If another had not intervened, I would have killed her."

He won't mention Kate by name, knowing Hickey's less-than-positive feelings towards the girl, but maybe it's a little obvious, given how close he's known to be with her.

"I cannot predict how this dark thing will continue to twist me. You need to be cautious. If that means that you would press your fangs to my throat if I become a threat to you, then so be it!"

Little didn't answer his question. Hickey thinks the answer might be yes. Yes, he is afraid of him. Little might be afraid of a lot of things.

The confession about feeding from someone is new. 'Her' limits it down to a few people. Someone precious limits it even further. Hickey doesn't go out of his way to talk to Kate or Wynonna, but he might have to, just because he's a nosy little shit. Give him the gossip!

Gossip aside, there's something in Little's words that doesn't fit. "Cautious isn't fear," Hickey points out. "I'm cautious around ice. Cautious when taking a long trip. Doesn't mean I'm afraid of that. I'll be cautious around you, that's doable. But you've given me no reason to fear."

Again.... it's Little.

"Now if you do give me a reason? I'm not going to cower. I'm not going to let you hurt me or mine. Attack mine and I'll attack yours right back."

His relationship with fear is... different now. He still fears many things, but he's realised what the worst thing to fear truly is. Losing control of himself, hurting his loved ones again... it's the most terrifying thing of all.

Which is why Hickey's words elicit perhaps an unanticipated reaction from Little. There's a quick rush of relief, and his brows lift, eyes locked on with attention. This, this is what he wants. Assurance that people won't hesitate to stop him if they have to.

He realised his error in asking Tim Drake to put the metaphorical bullet in him if needed. It wasn't fair to the boy. But Hickey comes to this conclusion on his own, at least in part. Little flinches at that wording about his loved ones though, frowning.

"No one else deserves punishment for my ailment. If there is an incident, you should target the one responsible: me alone." Yes he... wants you to hurt him if you have to, Hickey.

Hickey simply raises an eyebrow at that. In response, he points out, "Irving, Kate, they're not going to like that."

But Hickey doesn't care whether they like it or not. It's nothing accusatory, it's nothing judgemental, it's just pointing out a fact. He'll kill Little if needed. It would be easy. Hell, it probably would be the easiest thing to do here. But others would retaliate. Others would bother him. And really, that's what annoys Hickey the most: the inconvenience.

"Not saying I won't do it. Just pointing out the obvious."

"No, it wouldn't be... the favourable outcome for them," he agrees, which is putting it much more politely than warranted... Especially considering he knows that Wynonna in particular would be out for blood if anything happened to him; she's already killed someone for his sake... Ideally, Edward can avoid a chain effect of violence...

"But I assure you, it is the outcome I am going to do everything I can to avoid. That's largely why I wanted to... warn others. Especially those whom I feel this.... hunger towards." He stares nervously at Hickey, whose two-feat life force continues to smell particularly tantalising.

"I do not know what might happen to me in the longer term. How I might change." Unbeknownst to Little just yet, the Darkwalker's curse heavily affects his wolf form... stripping it of any slivers of his rational human mind, making it purely animalistic and too capable in the night. A genuine predator. And he won't be able to control it.

"But you and William conjure forth the same... degree of yearning within me. So you need to be warned."

That's interesting. Hickey remains quiet, listening to Little, but after a moment, he can't help but ask,

"Why d'you think it's me and Billy you want to consume?"

He has an idea. Probably some leftover guilt from the expedition. If I take out these two, if I destroy the vipers nest of mutiny, things would be different. Just that little bit of guilt hanging on - which frankly, Hickey thinks is pathetic. What happened then doesn't matter now. Little should make a break from it. That's what Hickey has done, after all.

(Just ignore the fact that he hasn't made as clean a break from the Franklin Expedition as he thinks.)

He winces at the question, wishing not to be made to think about it so directly, but he will answer honestly.

"I believe it is due to the... responsibility I have over your fates, and what came after." ...Little, it's really not that deep. The Darkwalker isn't actually punishing you, specifically, for your crimes... but he thinks that's the case!! Why wouldn't it be! It's what he deserves!

But yes, there is a shitton of guilt fueling him even all these years later; if anything, it's only gotten worse.

".....I feel some hunger towards Lieutenant Irving and Captain Fitzjames as well, though not as severely. There are so few of you left. So few of... us left." He swallows. "Perhaps it is a rather fitting irony that I would feel the drive to harm my remaining men." When what's driven him for so long is protecting them.

The responsibility. The responsibility over his fate. Hickey sighs, like he's the most oppressed and put-upon man in the world. Somebody save him from these men and their fucking egos! What responsibility did Edward Little have over someone like him? And when did Hickey ever acknowledge that responsibility to begin with?

"Bugger your responsibility. The only one who's responsible for what I've done is me." Edward can hem and haw and fret all he wants but at the end of the day, Hickey's the one who chose to sign up. Hickey's the one who chose to try and kidnap that girl. Hickey's the one who chose to mutiny. Others might not see the validity and sense of his actions, but it doesn't change the fact that he chose those actions himself to begin with.

"I'm not one of your men. Not here, not now, not ever. So whatever martyr complex you've got going on where you're worried about harming me because I'm one of your men, tell it to piss off."

Little finds himself unexpectedly surprise by the response, brows lifting upwards, body puffing up a bit — from its previously deflated, mournful sagging... It's not explicitly anger revving up in him, but a sort of passionate... something. Anger is there, but so is exhaustion, and ache, and sorrow. ...And determination, if he were able to pinpoint it.

Because this is the reason he came back from his self-imposed isolation after realising he'd become a monster. There are people he has to keep safe. Hickey is included in that.

"You are one of our men, then! I am not your lieutenant any longer, no, I don't mean that. I mean— all of us from before. The ones from our home world. We must protect one another, we're all we have left of... of then."

He swallows, nostrils flaring as he takes a forced breath.

"I know things were complex, but can you claim not to feel anything for them? The ones who are gone now? Goodsir, Jopson— Crozier?"

Edited 2025-09-20 11:59 (UTC)

The mention of Crozier visibly makes Hickey flinch. Of course he feels something for Crozier. Crozier was the reason Hickey did so much of what he did. It started off as a misguided attempt to prove himself to the captain, to show him how helpful, how useful he could be, it ended up being the same thing, but the yearningness was replaced by a steely determination. Even at the end of it all, even while he was sitting across from the man at camp, Hickey desperately wanted to be seen. To prove himself.

(Jopson, on the other hand, can go fuck himself. Hickey never liked that man anyway.)

"The ones who are gone are gone. We can't do anything about that. Best not to dwell on the dead—focus on the living instead. And of the living, there's me, you, Billy, a man I killed, and a man who's grave I robbed. Complicates matters, doesn't it."

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open / radio killed the penmanship star

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cw: cannibalism mention, it's the Terror baby!!

cw: all the cannibalism things all the time

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