singillatim | (no subject)

Who: Hickey & OPEN!
What: cave visits, exploring around town, making some booze!
When: through the month of December
Where: in town, Misty Falls Cave.

Content Warnings: Hickey's god complex, animal death & mutilation, usual warnings for the Terror boys (possible talk of body horror, gore, cannibalism, etc.)

in town
Hickey makes a point to be a good neighbor. Moving something? He'll help! Chopping wood? He can help with that as well. The more useful and helpful he is, the more he ingratiates himself with everybody, the more likely he'll have people on his side whenever one of the rest of the crew of the Terror decides to actually say something about what happened back home.

When he goes out to hunt, occasionally he'll return with a rabbit or a ptarmigan, something he'll happily cook up for whoever wants any. This time is different. He's brought back an animal, a rabbit that looks off, burns on the flesh but nothing more. He makes sure to drop it away from his house (we're not going to contaminate the food) before carefully, in the middle of what passes for his yard, Hickey starts to carefully vivisect the rabbit. It's certainly a sight, and he looks up at whoever might be passing or walking by.

"Have you noticed some odd tracks out there? Out in the woods, just outside of town."

Misty Falls Cave
You're exploring the cave. It's dark, cold, there's a moment where you think you might be the only person in here. It's trapped, kept away, a small, solitary place cut off from the rest of the world—

And then you hear a loud "What the hell?!"

It's Cornelius Hickey, further down one of the paths. And he's just run into a dead end. And is very annoyed about that.

closed prompt for March
There's a loud pounding on March's door, the sort of pounding of someone who obviously doesn't really care about things like 'social conventions' or 'the fact that people might be asleep. Hickey continues knocking, but as he does so, he calls out,

"Oi! This is March's place, yeah? I brought some sugar for the alcohol."

Turns out that horrible trip in that cave had some results!

wildcard
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Rorschach searched his memory. Was that the kid he'd met in the graveyard? But he couldn't be certain. See, this is where actually learning the name of people in the town would have come in handy.

"Talking is overrated." He snorted contemptuously. No surprise there given how little he talked in any given conversation.

"Nah, talking can save a man's skin," Hickey points out, with a little shrug. "Only those who are rubbish at it say that it's overrated. And, to nobody's surprise, you're more than a bit rubbish at talking."

Hickey learned very quickly that the ability to weasel one's way out of a situation is a more useful skill than some people realize.

Rorschach shrugged. He wasn't about to deny he was a poor conversationalist, not the way he was now. "Lost the skill some time ago." Ten years ago to be exact. But that was another thing he wasn't keen on talking with someone who irked him as much as Hickey did.

"Not that you'd understand much of that. Seems I've come across the world's smartest person. Already knows everything. A miracle." The way Hickey had been going about this conversation, there was a smugness about him which reminded Rorschach of Ozymandias in his worst moments, and he'd always disliked anyone who thought they were the smartest person in the room.

Alas, 'smug asshole' is Hickey's default state of being. Of course he's the world's smartest person. So many people here are just idiots. They take things as they are, not bothering to explore further or to realize things are more than they appear.

"What can I say, we're in my sort of environment. I was in the Arctic before coming up here. Course I already know what's going on. I've lived this."

Beneath the mask, Rorschach rolled his eyes. Insufferable twerp. What had started off as annoyance was quickly morphing into dislike. At the bragging of knowing what was going on, Rorschach gave him a flat look, his voice dripping sarcasm again. "Really? Lived through ghosts and magical animals and disembodied voices whispering your name? Know what all that means? Better share with the less enlightened morons then."

"I did," Hickey says, without any hesitation. Rorscach's voice is dripping with sarcasm, Hickey's is absolutely sincere.

"There was something back home. Looked like a bear, but obviously wasn't. It was stronger, spiteful, ran faster and lasted longer than any bear I've seen. It stole away two men, ripping each in half. And then, just to fuck with us, brought the bodies back to the ship, stacking half of one man on top of the bottom half of another."

It was honestly, kind of gross. But there's no denying it happened. Hickey saw that particular nightmare himself.

Rorschach made a slow, careful circle around Hickey, a bit like a predator stalking a prey animal that was bigger than they were. What he was looking for was something only he knew. He stayed quiet for a long while, trying to discern any falsehoods or insanity within the man.

While he wasn't so sure on whether or not Hickey was crazy, he didn't sense any lies coming from him, so he said as much. "Sounds crazy. Probably the truth." Liars, in his experience, didn't generally go for the nutty, too crazy to be believed outlandish stories. They'd make up small ones and just change a few details instead.

Hickey lets out a low little chuckle before pointing out, "Course it's the truth. If I was to lie about this, I'd choose something less ridiculous."

Because Hickey knows the story is absolutely ridiculous. Two men, ripped in half, stacked on top of each other? It's insane. It's unbelievable.

"That's why I know what's going on here. I'm used to gods and monsters."

Hickey had a point there. Someone who actually wanted to sound believable would have gone with something that didn't sound like it had been ripped out of the pages of a horror movie script.

"Monsters. That's one thing." He gave one of his usual characteristic long pauses before going on. "Gods. That's something else." He had his own experience with gods. While he didn't believe Dr. Manhattan was a god, just someone who had been unluckily granted godlike powers, it gave him a good idea of how such beings would have worked. The results didn't impress him. Gods were flawed, emotional beings and Rorschach knew they didn't care one whit about the little ants that crawled about at their feet.

Hickey shakes his head before pointing out, "In this case? They're one and the same."

Because of course they are. He refuses to see anything different. He refuses to think anything different. People might think tuunbaq was a monster and yeah, some of the actions were a bit monstrous. But Hickey could see the true godly nature behind it all. He knew what that bear was up to. And he knew he'd be recognized.

"So you say." The emphasis on the word was deliberate and could be audibly heard. Rorschach was just beginning to understand how big Hickey's ego and regard for himself were. Frankly, he wondered if he'd been underestimating how much when he'd sarcastically told Hickey he'd found the world's smartest person.

He was not impressed. Men who thought they knew everything usually had it all come tumbling down eventually. But he wasn't going to be the one to do that right now. For the moment, he was still barely able to tolerate Hickey's presence.

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cw: gore

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