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singillppl2023-12-06 12:21 am
singmod) wrote in singillppl2023-12-06 12:21 am
Entry tags:
December 2023 Test Drive Meme
DECEMBER 2023 TDM
PROMPT ONE — ARRIVAL: METHUSELAH'S FEAST: A new group of arrivals find themselves lost in the frozen wilds and vulnerable to the dangers of nature. With luck, they make it to the town of Milton, and to a friendly face offering food, warmth and shelter — not to mention the fact they are not the first to come here.
PROMPT TWO — MISTY FALLS CAVE: The Interlopers go out in search of a hidden cave in the mountains found by Methuselah, which may still contain the hidden stash of a doomsday prepper. However, they get a little more than they bargained for when they venture inside.
PROMPT THREE — SERPENT'S BREATH: Interlopers investigate the mysterious cause of whatever is killing and poisoning the wildlife and vegetation of the area — and discover a supernatural creature is behind it.
ARRIVAL: METHUSELAH'S FEAST
WHEN: Mid-Decmber.
WHERE: Milton, Milton Outskirts.
CONTENT WARNINGS: potential animal attacks, potential injuries, potential cold injuries/hyperthermia risk.
'You are the Interloper. You are not part of nature’s design.'
It’s the last thing you hear. A dark, deep voice. Impossibly ancient. You feel afraid. Maybe you’re dreaming, maybe you’re wide awake. You saw the lights, and then your world went dark. But you hear it in the blackness, you won’t forget those words.
You awaken. You are not where you were before. It’s different for everyone, there doesn’t seem to be much of a pattern in where you find yourself. You may open your eyes to find yourself in a cold, dim and dank cabin. The air is stale, dust hangs in the rays of weak sunlight that shine through the tiny windows. Someone lived here once, but they aren’t to be found. You look around, it seems like no one has been here in a long time. The fire is cold, the dishes in the sink are pretty mouldy. It is quiet. The wood creaks around you. Or perhaps you may awaken to find yourself shivering in the yawning maw of a cave, the freezing stone below you. Or maybe you’re unfortunate enough to sit up to find yourself lying in the snow, in the middle of the wilderness. Snow lies thick around you. It’s freezing out. You haven’t felt a cold like this before in your entire life. Cruel and biting. You have no idea where you are, and what’s worse — you are completely alone.
You may feel different, too. Any powers or magics you may have feel... absent. Disconnected. Things that may not have affected you previously now do. Something in you has changed.
You know you can’t stay where you are. You’ll need to move, try to work out where you are and how you came to be here. So you walk, head out into the unknown, in hope of finding a trail or a road. You’ll find one soon enough. It’s here you may find someone else in the same boat as yourself, equally freezing and confused. You’ll both need to keep going. It won’t be easy. You hear howls of wolves around you, and the terrain is difficult: slips and falls are likely. You’re completely vulnerable out here in the open.
It’s possible you may come across someone here. Another fellow Interloper, out hunting or gathering. They’ll likely offer help and get you into town. However, for the unlucky ones who don’t come across anyone, you’ll carry on until you see it: the lazy trail of smoke rising in the air. Fire. Not just one, but several. Civilisation…?
Follow it, and soon enough the way you’ve taken will certainly become a path or road. Unfolding before you in the mountainous forests, you’ll see the most welcome of sights: a small mining town tucked up in the valley. Battered, rusted road signs will direct to “MILTON, POP. 947”. You’re almost there, you keep going, and it looks like other people have had the same idea as you. In fact, you’ll hear the muffled sounds of life. People. In The town!
As you head into the outskirts and further into town, you’ll find it’s a little easier to walk but the cold has gripped you hard. You’ll find the buildings, both shops and homes, some are dark and lifeless, some of them are boarded up, some of them are occupied. People are going about their business, or stood watching from their tiny porches of their small, timber homes. For a town this big, there doesn’t seem to be many people.
Towards the center of town, you’ll find the building from which the biggest of the smoke trail rises: a school-house of sorts, or some kind of community hall. Perhaps both. You’ll find more and more people all drawn to this place, each and every one of them in the same position as yourself (and your companion, if you’ve found one). Some are in worse states than others: some are bloodied, nursing bite wounds or cuts; others might have some other kind of injury sustained in the journey here from falls. Others may look as if they could faint from the cold at any second.
The door opens, and you’re greeted by the gnarled, wizened face of an elderly man, dressed in thick furs. He has a kind face. He smiles warmly, and with pity, ushering you in with haste.
“Ah, even more, still. Just as I thought.” he muses. “I wonder if this is perhaps the new status quo. I am Methuselah. I welcome you Newcomer, although I’m sorry for how you’ve come to find yourself here. You are not the only one, the lights are changing things. They bring more of you every so often. Come. Mother Nature has not been kind to you, but there are plenty here to help.”
The room is dim, lit only by natural daylight through the windows. A roaring fire sits at one end of the huge hall. It crackles, bright and cheerful…. and warm. Even as big as this place is, the room is pleasantly warm. You’ll also find basic cots set up down one side of the hall, places to rest for a moment and get your bearings, or just trying to recover from the cold. Down the other side are tables and chairs, and long tables with food, drinks and bottled water similar to one might find at a soup kitchen. Once again, Methuselah offers a feast, aided by some of the other Interlopers.
There are canisters with hot herbal teas and coffee, along with soup and stew and trays of charred deer and rabbit meats, plus grilled fish. There's also things like instant mashed potatoes, and tinned vegetables. It’s very basic, but it’s hot and filling. A feast, although newcomers will note from others who have been here some time that this particular feast is less bountiful this time.
Methuselah will continue to busy himself, still; there is plenty to do. He will fetch blankets, tend to wounds, serve food and drinks. He does not have much time to talk. More and more people seem to be coming in from the cold. He will not stop to sit and rest until everyone is seen to, taking up a place by the fire to gaze silently into its flames. He is troubled, thoughtful.
He will encourage newcomers to get warm and eat, and when they are ready to — they can explore the time and find one of the many empty homes to call their own. He will not speak much, but perhaps you might be able to get some answers from those fellow arrivals who’ve been in this place for some time now.
However, he will speak of something important, and will gladly share with others: “I have been looking for something for you all. There was once a townsfolk I knew of: Matthew. A suspicious, paranoid old miner who was interested in Prepping. He often spoke of the world coming to an end and strived to survive it. He often spoke of a cache hidden in the mountains, where he collected things of value. I have found the place, a hidden cave, but I am unable to get through, myself.”
… Well, he is an old man, after all.
“There are signs outside, so it is promising it is still intact. Perhaps the cache is still there. It might provide something useful for your growing numbers.”
MISTY FALLS CAVE
WHEN: Mid-month, onwards.
WHERE: Milton Outskirts.
CONTENT WARNINGS: booby traps; claustrophobic situations; potential injury/maiming; potential hyperthermic situations; exploration horror;
Methuselah gives directions to those willing to check out the lead for the old prepper cache. Following the river up from Milton Basin will lead to rugged, difficult pathways up towards Misty Falls — a waterfall, the river source itself. Most of the river is completely frozen with the freezing temperatures, but it is not completely so the closer to the source you go. Misty Falls is certainly idyllic, or it would be perhaps on a fine summer’s day — good for a nice hike. But the place looks desolate in the eternal winter cursing the Northern Territories.
The half-frozen waterfall is a din of sound, but the water itself is incredibly fresh and cooling for those hot and tired from the hike up. Those paying attention might notice a small space between the water and rock, big enough to squeeze through to get behind the waterfall itself. In the small space, the entrance to a small cave can be found. There are faded handmade signs, all in the same hand, reading ‘DANGER KEEP OUT’ and it isn’t too far of a stretch to wonder if perhaps this might be the secret stash of the old miner that Methuselah spoke of.
Venturing into the cave will not be an easy task. It seems the old miner was keen to keep any trespassers out, and most of this comes down to the cave itself. The walls of the cave quickly narrow, with only enough space to walk in single file. Jutting stone will easily make those stumble and trip. Occasionally the cave’s passage becomes narrower, meaning one might have to stoop or even crawl to carry on through. Here and there, the uneven floor dips, and your feet will find themselves in shin-deep frigid water. It’s slow-going, even if the actual passage itself isn’t incredibly long.
But perhaps the worst of all is the pressing darkness. A darkness so black even with lanterns switched off, one’s eyes cannot adjust to it. It is smothering, pressing. The air is stale and damp, you feel small — and the cave itself still presses in on you. The miner also kept a few tricks up his sleeve in order to keep out intruders. There are dead-ends, making it easy to get lost. Trip wires are hidden in the darkness, causing small man-made cave-ins to fall upon unsuspecting heads.
It might be safer, saner to give up and turn back. But persevering will see the cave opening up once more, this time widening into a room. The place is fashioned into some crude shelter. There is furniture, lanterns to be lit.
With more light, the miner’s stash is revealed: the painstaking, time-costing work of a paranoid old recluse. Crates of non-perishable foods, MREs, and bottled water. Medicines and basic medical supplies, flares and tools.
A perfect supply of survival goods, ripe for the taking.
SERPENT'S BREATH
WHEN: Throughout the month.
WHERE: The entirety of the Milton area.
CONTENT WARNINGS: mentions of dead animals; malevolent creature; snakes/serpents; poison/airborne toxins; potential poisonings; potential burn injuries; potential (temporary) blinding.
It’s noticed in different ways: perhaps a trail of dead animals stands before you, each one with no particular injury other than what appears to be burned hides and flesh — it is as if the wildlife simply dropped dead, for the most part. Perhaps you notice huge, tunnel-like grooves in the deepest parts of the snow, a few feet in width — as if something long and thick had made its way through to clear a path. More worryingly for some, they might notice trails of rot: destroyed trees, decaying plant life, as if the very earth itself has been scorched in the wake of something passing through, leaving nothing but destruction and devastation.
Something is destroying the flora and fauna of the world. There seems to be no pattern, simply the random trails all over the place. There appears to be no other tracks, other than the long, smooth tunnel-like pathways. Whatever it is, it must be stopped. Resources are so precious in this world, if the beast is allowed to continue then all who live here will soon starve due to lack of animals to hunt and plants to gather.
Following the tunnels is a sure-way to hunt the beast down, although these paths will lead far from town. It is best to go prepared. But soon enough, you may come across the slumbering beast, curled up on the snow or coiled underneath some jutting space of stone along the mountains. You’ll hear and smell it before you see it: the long grumbling snores as it sleeps, and the putrid stench of rot. Everything in you tells you to flee, much like when an animal senses something toxic, or poisoning.
You press on, finally stumbling across the beast: a long, serpent-like dragon, with tremendous horns and fangs, coloured with muted grey scales and huge, glowing, flamed eyes.
The element of surprise will work in your favour to try and kill the beast, but it will give up a good fight. It will take several rounds of fights with it before it will finally be taken down permanently. It moves quickly, with scales like steel. Its eyes and mouth are its weakest spots, as is the soft underbelly of its body — fire will work well on harming this beast, especially with a well aimed shot into its mouth.
Its open mouth is where it holds its most powerful weapon. Not the fangs, no. The very reason why the air smells of rot, why the wildlife lay dead, why the earth decays at your feet: its breath. The beast’s breath is highly toxic, it will burn the skin of those it comes into contact with. Breathing in the fumes will poison those who breathe it in, and will cause a weakening, sickly illness. The breath may even temporarily blind.
These injuries are not fatal, and will heal with time and the basic medical attention available in the world. Victims will require rest for at least a week, depending on how severe the blast of the serpent’s breath. But killing the best will ensure its havoc is brought to an end.
FAQs
1. Arrival threads can be treated as game canon.
2. Items characters have brought from home can be found either strewn around them when they awaken, or in the community hall — as if someone left them out for them to collect. Methuselah will not know how they got there, and will be quite bemused by the happenings.
3. Reminder that all characters are now depowered upon arrival. They can choose not to notice it at first, or can immediately sense something is different about them.
4. If asked any personal questions, Methuselah will smile and say "Oh, you don't want to know about an old man like me. But I have lived all over in these parts for all my life." He will be more concerned with trying to help Newcomers, and is genuinely concerned for them and their well-being. Other Interlopers will say much of the same — there's little to know about him.
5. More information about Milton can be found here.
1. Tools found would be basic survival/camping tools one might expect: knives, hand axes, rope, handsaws, torches, batteries, etc.
1. The Stoor Worm, or Mester Stoor Worm, was a gigantic evil sea serpent of Orcadian folklore, capable of contaminating plants and destroying animals and humans with its putrid breath. Assipattle, the youngest son of a local farmer, defeated the creature by flinging still-burning peat into its mouth. As it died its teeth fell out to become the islands of Orkney, Shetland and the Faroes, and its body became Iceland.
2. It is possible the harvest the beast once it is killed, particularly for its fangs and skin. The skin/scales will provide ample protection to try to use it for armouring themselves. The fangs would provide useful for crafting knives or weapons.
3. It is... technically possible to eat the meat of the beast. Care should be taken in butchering, however. And it is not advised to eat the head.
no subject
The surprise doesn't even have anything to do with the other man doing this despite the mutiny - though, Billy slowly realises, maybe he doesn't know the full extent of it, maybe he assumes he got dragged off by that bear during the attack on the camp and died - nor does the surprise have to do with Billy not assuming this isn't within the other man's personality. He hasn't ever thought any of the three lieutenants to be necessarily unkind, after all, despite their individual.. eccentricities. Not even Irving, despite some personal problematic elements there.
No, his surprise is much more in the line with what the other thinks too. That usually this sort of thing just.. wouldn't be done between people of their respective ranks. Billy is very much aware of his place, and he wouldn't bother to uselessly expect anything beyond it. It makes the coat a gesture he's having a hard time processing right now.
But not a hard time accepting, because he's so cold, and he wants to live, and he'll gladly take anything to keep him warm, even if Edward's coat manages to be both too short and too wide for Billy all at the same time.. But it works, especially when Billy - with some difficulty - manages to move his hands from his pockets and raise them enough to pull the coat a little tighter around himself with his fingers.
His fingers that.. aren't exactly looking great. No frostbite, thankfully, but the man definitely looks like he's been out in the cold for too long already, especially without gloves. ]
.. thank you, sir.
[ He's at least able to produce those words as sound, especially since he is genuinely grateful for the coat, though he expresses it in his usual withdrawn sort of way.
But it is the only thing he says. Especially since the man truly has to focus on walking after that. He doesn't ask for support, seems determined to walk on his own, but there's a definite hobble to his walk. It isn't even a hobble on one side, like there's something wrong with one foot - it's just that he's still unused to really working his limbs well, having grown too used to having to move them in odd ways to avoid the pain the now-vanished scurvy in them gave him before. He'll just.. awkwardly continue to walk like that next to you, Edward, don't mind him... ]
no subject
Edward doesn't rush him, however, keeping right beside the other man. His odd, fumbling footsteps also remind him of when he'd seen Thomas Jopson limping his way forwards — Jopson, who'd met his eyes with a steely pierce. .....Gibson seems a lot less upset to see him, although of course given his condition, Edward can't assume anything. It could be surprise, or upset, or discomfort that he's here, swallowed up only by the need to get out of the cold and get some food into his belly.
....He'll deal with the unpleasantries. He's faced them again and again, first with Hickey, then Goodsir, then Jopson and the Captain. (What memories are freshest within Billy's mind? What point in time had he been brought here? Does he know what happened to him?
....Does he know that Edward was meant to come rescue them all, and failed to do so?)
Carefully but firmly, he presses a palm to the other man's back, and uses the other to grasp his forearm, as though in attempt to help keep him upright and steady. ]
That's it. You're all right now. We're almost there.
[ Apart from those assurances voiced here and there, Edward remains quiet, not wanting to overwhelm the other. Finally they've reached the little cabin (isolated and a bit sad-looking....) and the lieutenant is carefully helping Billy up the steps, one at a time, slowly. Once at the door, he finally detaches from him so he can open it up, revealing a small living space. He'll direct him to the couch to help him sit down, and then get right to work getting the fireplace going with a few fresh logs from a pile stacked nearby. ]
Can I fetch you anything? Water? ....There's food here. [ He adds, and the words still feel strange to say aloud. ]
no subject
Thankfully enough he makes it without that happening, though. He allows the other man to lead him into the cabin - a cabin whose exterior and isolation might make him have quite some thoughts later, once he's able to think a little bit more clearly again, given how how much those qualities will slot in place like puzzle pieces with the knowledge he has about the lieutenant after having spent so much time in his presence - and to sit down on the couch.
Billy fully expects the pain to return to his knees as he slowly bends them to actually sit, but they don't. His body may not be feeling great right now, as half-frozen as it is, but the constant searing pain seems gone.
He pulls his legs as close towards him as he can, like he's trying to seem a little smaller and less intrusive, despite his lanky build. ]
.. food? [ It's the first word he says, a moment after Edward spoke up with the same word. It makes Billy actually look over at him, surprise in his eyes. He speaks on, a little too quickly, like there's something desperate in it. ] Yes, I would-- I'd like some. Food.
[ Okay, so maybe his speech still isn't too great, but he manages to get it out..
It does get him thinking, though. Even if Billy isn't exactly married to the job the way some other people - cough, Jopson, cough - may be, something about Edward taking care of him rather than the other way around still feels strange. Even more so when usually people never take care of Billy, and even more so when care isn't really what he deserves, let alone expects, after what he did. He doesn't regret his decisions necessarily, but he does recognize them for what they are, for what he contributed to. With Irving dead and Hodgson part of the mutiny, it can't have been easy for Edward to be left behind as the only original Terror lieutenant, especially when you take the other's personality into consideration.
And yet here he is, helping Billy like it's the natural thing to do. Giving him his coat, giving him food. There is a bit of a strange sense of guilt, especially when he's still so overwhelmed by his death, by the cold, by-- well, pretty much everything.
It makes him speak without really thinking, cold lips moving, though his gaze drops so he's no longer looking at Edward. ]
.. I am sorry, lieutenant.
no subject
He's carefully (but quickly) pouring the contents into a bowl — it's some sort of mixed vegetable thing, and considerably less appetising when cold, but it would take him a while to boil the water needed to heat it up. The important thing is that it's food and it's safe. Finding a spoon, he's giving the contents of the bowl a few stirs to loosen up the thick mix of soupy vegetables when he hears the words.
'I am sorry, lieutenant.'
Edward pauses, for just a moment — surprised, brows lifting, mouth tipping slightly open. He looks over at Gibson, staring at him, before jumping back to attention of what he's doing, stirring the food a few more times.
He... understands (or at least believes he does) why this man should be apologising, now. Although he'd not seen Billy make an appearance with the others (...he keeps thinking of Hodgson, up on that hill, looking dazed, strange), he's learned from Goodsir that the man was indeed in that camp. Hickey's camp.
Again, he remembers what Goodsir told him. What happened to Gibson, a fate no man deserves. ....And by whom. Edward's jaw tightens for a moment with a quiet anger as he continues to stir the food, and then slowly turns to start walking back over to Billy. Carefully, he'll hand him the bowl or help set it down on his lap, before he'll sit down beside him, mouth a tight frown. This poor man.... clearly, Hickey took advantage of his state. Took the weakest and easiest to slaughter. ]
You needn't be sorry for anything, Mr. Gibson. [ But... he hesitates, unsure exactly what place in time his steward is actually coming from. Though by his physical appearance, it's obvious he's coming from after the attack by the creature happened.... after he was taken by Hickey. ]
What do you last remember....?
no subject
The man only stops when he's asked that question. Billy puts down the spoon into the bowl, giving the other man a brief glance before his gaze instead drops right to the contents of the bowl once more.
What does he remember? The near-execution, Crozier's warning about Hickey that Billy had promptly opted to ignore, the bear's attack, trying to quickly split off in the chaos, hauling with all he got even when it felt like his knees were getting stabbed with each step, and then-- ]
Mr. Hickey put a knife in my back.
[ What a name to use there. Mr. Hickey, like he isn't thinking Cornelius put a knife in his back, the one man he had shared more with than with anyone. The man who gave him a ring, who sat in front of him during his moment of pain.
We'll make the best of a bad situation. Like we always have.
Billy keeps his voice steady, even if it's quiet. Like he's trying to recount the events as if they happened to someone else, rather than himself. ]
Doctor Goodsir tried to stop him, but he couldn't. [ The last thing Billy saw. Maybe that's why it feels important to mention, or maybe he he wants to give Goodsir the credit for it, as surprising as the action had been after what he told Billy only moments before it, not sparing a single word. ]
no subject
But he remembers what it felt like, holding a bowl of food in his shaking hands when he'd come here. He'd wept. Sometimes he still does.
He lets Gibson eat in silence, eyes dipping to the ground, giving him some little dose of privacy that way. It's only when the other man speaks that Little looks back up, eyes wide, expression shocked. He.... knows...? Knows he was attacked by Hickey. Perhaps knows that he surely died from it.
(Does he know what came after that? What horror was committed to his body, in that camp?)
Edward swallows, uneasy with this, not knowing how to handle any of it. He wishes the captain were here. But this is something he must deal with; he can't fall to stagnancy. Gibson is here, and so is Cornelius Hickey, and this is a very, very dangerous thing. ]
I.... heard of what happened to you. Doctor Goodsir informed me of it as well, when we arrived here together. [ He tries to mute his upset, but his expression betrays it, eyes disturbed, wounded, voice trembling as he all but whispers the words. ]
....It's unthinkable. It's—.... I haven't words. I'm.... so sorry, Mr. Gibson.
[ He does feel responsible for this man. He'd lost control of things before the trial happened, and never quite regained them again after. So many men were lost in that hellish fog. Everything was.... wrong. If he'd kept a better eye on Hickey....and on Tozer, who was certainly a part of the mutiny, of kidnapping the poor men that Hickey had his eye on for whatever damned reasons... Hodgson, Goodsir, Gibson.... all of them, victims.
If only he'd done so many things differently... Edward sits there in his misery for a few long moments, eyes wide. There's more to say, so much more — he has to warn him that Hickey is here in Milton, but he doesn't want to overwhelm the poor man. Edward stands from the sofa, hurrying over to the fire to coax it to burn brighter, spreading its warmth through the small room. In the next moment he's going to fetch a blanket, which he brings back to carefully place over Gibson's thin shoulders. That, layered with the greatcoat, should keep him warm... His brow's knit worriedly; he'll certainly have to contact Goodsir very shortly to come have a look at him. ]
...Are you in pain now? From the knife wound....? [ A beat, as he thinks of something he hadn't before, with a wave of fresh horror. Memory of John Irving's corpse, mutilated in unspeakable ways, and torn into over and over again by the slash of that very knife. Hickey had stabbed him over two dozen times. ]
...How badly... was it? Do you remember? Did he stab you more than once?
cw: description of a stabbing
He doesn't know how to react to it. He doesn't know what to say. Hell - he doesn't even know what his feelings are doing when he hears it, everything feeling like a frozen over mess inside of him. It's not like he didn't get along with the other man before, but it's mostly because they were both content being very business-like about things. Witnessing his emotions, especially when they're aimed directly at Billy like this.. It's not something that was really done, and it's such a leap from their usual interactions that Billy goes entirely quiet when the other speaks of how sorry he feels for him.
Thankfully the bowl of food is a very good excuse to not have to say anything right away. Billy focuses on that instead, silently eating, feeling grateful enough for the way it finally fills his stomach that it makes it a little bit easier to not think about the rest of it.
(Only easier, though. It's still difficult.
The blanket draped across his shoulders doesn't even do that much, doesn't make it easier at all. It feels like misplaced care, brewing an odd sense of guilt down in Billy's stomach.)
At least the guilt stirs him into actually speaking again, into answering the lieutenant's questions. ]
Only once. [ Unless he was already too far gone to feel it, but-- no, he's pretty sure it was just once, until everything started to fade.
But how is he supposed to describe how bad it was? How could he tell the other man that Hickey held him as he did it, that he shoved it in deep and kept him there, didn't allow him to escape it, that Billy only knew it was Hickey because he recognized that hold--
He can't, obviously.
Billy swallows, his fingers twitching. Perhaps from slowly warming up from the cold, perhaps from something more. ]
But it was.. enough. [ He had been too weak. ] I know I died.
[ Maybe that's what Edward is dancing around telling him here. In that case Billy will say it himself, spare the other man from thinking he needs to deliver him the bad news. Billy knew. Waking up here in dark red blood-soaked snow told him enough, if the experience itself hadn't done it.
He finally glances up from the bowl, slowly staring to meet Edward's eyes. ]
I.. know this might sound impossible, but I think the wound closed up. [ Almost as impossible as the fact that Billy is alive in the first place. ] I can still feel it, but.. less so.
cw: more stabby descriptions
Billy's.... must have been deeper. Perhaps more intentionally placed, so as to kill him in one motion? It's all horrific business, so gruesome a thought that it makes his stomach extremely nauseated, and Edward gives a soft shuddery exhale as he slowly sits back down on the couch now that the fire is freshly stoked.
What comes next confirms another horror. Gibson knows he's dead. And though it is some slight, strange relief that he won't have to worry about keeping that fact hidden from the man, it's... deeply upsetting to sit here beside his fellow crewman, his former steward, and know that this poor man understands his own disturbing fate. He's silent for several long moments, staring down at his own gloved hands, his breathing strained. He only looks up again when Billy starts to speak once more, and meets the other's eyes — so tired and drained. ]
There are... many impossible things in this place. [ What is this town, really? It's a question that has haunted him for a very long time. ] You and I are not the only ones from our world to have arrived here, and... some of the other men were in severe states, as well. I believe this place also helped to heal them. It is genuine, I assure you. You will be all right now — you'll need much time to recover, of course, but.... You are not dead, Mr. Gibson. Not here.
[ He lifts a hand to place gently on Billy's shoulder, padded in the blanket and his own greatcoat, but he can still feel how thin it is beneath the garments, fingers closing gently against the practically skeletal feel of it before slowly withdrawing. There is another matter, one he hates to reveal to this poor man when he's already dealing with the knowledge of his own death and subsequent... revival, but... he must. It's urgent.
Though it brings him no pleasure to say this, and the way he literally drags the words out of himself might suggest that, his eyes wet and wounded. ]
I must..... warn you. He is here. Mr. Hickey is here. He has been since I arrived. I have been doing my best to keep him under control— [ (Hickey has not once listened to him) ] —and to keep everyone here safe from him, but....
[ God. Billy couldn't be a bigger target. He knows exactly what Hickey's capable of, is proof of him being a murderer.... That demon won't hesitate to get rid of him, surely. ]
I'll not let him harm you. I swear this to you.
gosh i'm sorry this is a NOVEL.... dan simmons, we're coming for you!!!
It is a statement that does feel like it hits Billy in the head, but in a different way than the other man might imagine. There's no sense of fear there, despite what had happened, or the way it had all gone down. Instead all he finds himself thinking is that he has to talk to Hickey, at least. It's like his heart won't be able to rest easily until he figures out what had been going on in the other's head for things to happen the way they did. Even if it'd turn out that maybe it all had just been revenge in the end for what happened with lieutenant Irving much earlier, a betrayal for a betrayal, at least then Billy would know, instead of sitting here and trying to fit a puzzle together that he doesn't have all the pieces to. He wants to hear it from Hickey's-- Cornelius' own mouth.
It's obviously something for later though. Right now he isn't really going much of anywhere, not with his limbs still feeling like popsicles, though the food and the hearth is helping. Instead he quietly sits with the words for a moment, shoving the matter of his necessary talk with Hickey aside to focus on what the lieutenant is telling him right now.
Especially when something about it doesn't sit right with him. Maybe as part of all this. The coat and food and blanket shared with him, the touch on his shoulder, the promise to protect him. Sure, receiving this amount of care felt awkward from the start, but Billy can pinpoint it a little bit better now it feels like he's starting to defrost a little bit. He could easily just take all of it, let Little protect him - as much.. as the other even could.. sorry, lieutenant, you're not exactly the person with the most of a spine Billy has ever known.. - and take the easy way out, just like he was offered before with Irving. It's only now that Billy realises just how much the lieutenants are willing to believe him, to take his side in the face of situations like these. Irving had believed him so easily too, even though Billy knew he had been lying to the other man's face.
He also remembers how paranoid the lie made him feel afterwards, every single time he had to face the lieutenant. He doesn't want to do that. Not again. Even less so in the face of the care he's receiving here, bringing on a weird sense of guilt and shame. And it's much easier in the first place to come clean about anything other than his attraction to men, or one man in particular.
Even though Billy knows he's likely just making this situation harder on himself, he wants to be honest this time. He already died anyway. What does it matter?
While he was thinking about all of it, he quickly downed the remaining contents of the bowl of food - like he's worried Edward might take it away from him after hearing this. Even if Billy's stomach hurts at suddenly being filled this much all at once. ]
Lieutenant.. You must know I went along with the mutiny willingly.
[ Not that the other has literally stated as much, but.. Billy knows the other man, knows the way he speaks, the way he thinks. All of his words right now make it very clear what he assumes the situation back home had been like - that Billy was taken. A plain victim.
And it's not that uncomplicated at all. He wants to own up to that, even while he's sitting here with the bowl in his hands and the blanket over him. ]
.. I was dying, sir. I had been, ever since the carnivale-- or maybe even before it. [ He hadn't told anyone. There had been no point to it, and he knew. No doctor on the ships could fix what was slowly eating away at him. Billy just did what he always did-- kept his head down and kept working, figuring the lieutenants were too busy with the state of things at that point to really notice, despite their close proximity due to the nature of Billy's work. ] I knew that I would not make it if we had to walk that entire way. A big group like that-- It's too slow. I figured going along with a smaller group was my only chance of survival.
[ He swallows. Even though his voice is still weak, he speaks on. ]
I do not mean to justify my actions. [ Or, rather-- Billy does think he had good reasons to do what he did, but he knows the actions themselves were bad. He dragged other people into that. He won't deny it. ] I just--
[ That's the part that makes him pause, the weirdness of it all. The thing that compels him to say all this in the first place, to actually confess: the care being extended to him that he never expected to get in the first place, the guilt it stirs.
It renders him unable to actually look over at the other man as he says: ]
I do not want you to think of me as a man I am not.
NO I LOVE IT SO MUCH, it's such good food.... Dan Simmons ain't got NOTHING on us!!!!
Although..... it isn't fully a surprise. Not really. He'd dabbled in that thought here and there, but never able to spend too much time thinking into it, not allowing himself to entertain such notions for long. (To dwell on them, to fall into a certain despair about them. There is no point to it, to letting himself think that perhaps some of those men went along with Mr. Hickey willingly (the ones he didn't already know about, at least); it would even be damnable to let himself think of such things without proper evidence.)
But since his arrival to this place, and the arrivals of some of the crew.... the opportunity to learn such truths has been revealed to him, and yet even then he's not gotten too close to it. Not yet. He's had the chance a few times — when speaking with Goodsir, with Hickey himself, to learn more about... what happened, and he'd flinched away from getting too deeply into it. He could not bring himself to directly ask. Did Lieutenant Hodgson willingly go along with it? Did he have a hand in murdering someone? Did he feed on someone?
For out of all those men who'd come up over the hill, who came for Crozier, it was George's appearance that shocked him the most. Truthfully, Edward hasn't even been able to process it.
And so, as he continues to listen to Gibson, that startled expression on his face calms into something that's only severe and thoughtful instead; he stays complete silent, taking in the words as he gazes down at his hands, once more folded into his lap.
There's an ache to so much of this, but something odd and unexpected when Billy gets to the part about thinking that his only chance of survival was to do what he'd done.
(Isn't it so familiar, in its way? Edward abandoned the men his captain forbade him to abandon. He went against those orders. Walked with a group headed towards survival.)
He has to take a few moments after the other man finishes, sitting there, eyes perpetually wet and wounded, but there's no trace of judgment in them. No, when he finally lifts his head to speak again, it's only very softly and sadly. ]
....I am deeply sorry, Mr. Gibson, that you were suffering before any of us realised. I... Looking back, I can see that more of the men may have been. Mr. Morfin....
[ He closes his eyes briefly, mouth tightening into a frown. God, it was horrible, what happened to him. Billy, ill, might have wondered if it was only a matter of time before he found that same fate. In agony, begging for death. And there's much guilt in Edward for it; as one of the highest-ranking officers, he'd been given the best food while it lasted, longer than other crewmen had. He'd had access to their reserves of real meat for longer, consumed less of those tainted cans over time. He hadn't begun to rot as quickly. His own rotting would come much later, hidden beneath the layers of clothing he refused to peel back. Until the end, he'd held onto that officer title, that role, and he knows he is damned for it. ]
I wish.... I could have done more. For you... for the others. ....I have many regrets. They do not leave me, [ he says, quietly. So many regrets. It's so much heaviness. He doesn't know what to do with it. With any of it. All he can do now is sit and talk with the living ghosts of his men, like Gibson and Jopson. Take as much care of them now as he can. Even if it will only ever be too late.
His features tighten for a moment. Billy's words whisper again and again against the shell of his ear, a ghost of their own. 'I do not want you to think of me as a man I am not.'
Edward draws in a deep, aching breath, and then lets it exhale, very slowly. His voice softens again, towards something more gentle. ]
I think of you only as a man who has known horror and desperation that no man should ever know.
All of us... made decisions that we thought to be best. We did what we had to do. It does not make it any easier to carry — I know that weight very well.
....But you are not an indecent man for wanting to survive, William.
[ It's rare that Edward would use first names, but they do come, at times. Here and now, he needs this man to know that he doesn't look at him with criticism or scorn or even much upset at all for his actions. It was all... complicated. Little understands that more than most might.
He'll pause for a long few moments, not rushing Billy through any of these thoughts, giving him a chance to speak again. It's only after those few moments that he'll venture forth with something, carefully, and almost reluctantly. His heart couldn't be heavier in his chest. ]
I do not want to burden you further with these dreadful thoughts, but.... may I ask you something? It is about Lieutenant Hodgson. However, if you cannot speak more of what happened in that camp right now, it is understandable.
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Nothing had been worse than that thought.
But even though Billy knows his reasons why he did it, and even though he knows he'd probably do the same thing all over again even if he'd go back in time, it's not like he doesn't realise what he did. What he contributed to. He fully expects the other to judge him over it, and yet, as the lieutenant continues to speak, he.. doesn't. If Billy was in a less charitable mood, he'd chalk it up to the other's lack of a spine, the kind of petty thoughts that might have crossed his mind during his worse days on the ship, regretting every single life choice that brought him there, stuck in the Arctic and sick.
.. right now, though? Between the food, and clothes, and now the words, despite Billy owing up to his actions..
It makes him think he might have misjudged the lieutenant in some ways. That there was kindness and forgiveness where Billy never expected it to be, never expecting anything from another person, let alone a superior.
He doesn't know what to say to it. He hardly knows how to deal with it. The last thing Billy expected was to somehow survive, and then to end up being cared for and forgiven by a man he actively turned his back on is.. a lot.
Thankfully - and not even on purpose - the other gives him an out. He doesn't have to address the rest of this when he has a direct question to answer. Something a little easier to talk about, relatively speaking. ]
No. I can talk about it. [ His voice is still weak, but the words are clear, even though he's still looking down at the empty bowl rather than over at the other man. ] .. though I can't tell you much, all the same. We only ran into Lieutenant Hodgson a little while before I..
[ .. you know. Billy doesn't have to finish that one, right. He just lets it trail off for a moment before he faintly shakes his head. ]
He didn't join the mutiny from the start. [ Since he figures that's probably what the other wants to know, right? Billy doesn't know what happened after he died, but with Irving already being dead, Hodgson must have been on Little's mind a lot. And since Billy just mentioned that he joined on purpose.. ] .. not that Mr. Hickey had to threaten him either. We found him-- alone. I assume he got separated from your group after the bear's attack. He seemed.. desperate. Hungry. [ Billy is pretty sure the other had been trying to eat his boots, but he'll at least.. spare Little that detail right now.. ] I am fairly sure he would have joined anyone who would offer him food.
[ He pauses. This part isn't really painful to think back on, not as painful as the moment that killed him, but.. well, between the lead poisoning, his current still half-frozen state and the fact he was actively dying back then make his memories a little fuzzy, forcing Billy to think harder. ]
I remember.. him seeming off. He was telling his usual stories. [ Nothing he probably has to elaborate on here either. Both of them knew the other man well, or at least well enough to know Hodgson's penchant for those.. ] But different.
[ Like half the life had been sucked out of him, Billy remembers. ]
... The last thing I remember is the lieutenant talking with Mr. Hickey about food.
[ Of course Billy of all people doesn't know half just how ominous it is to mention THAT.. ]
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(Ever allow himself to eat a fellow crewmate... a friend, no matter how empty his belly may feel, how painful that hollowed-out sensation is, every fibre of one's being screaming for sustenance. He wouldn't, he wouldn't—)
He frowns deeply as he continues to listen, searching William's dulled eyes as he does, holding onto every piece of information he's given. It paints more of the picture he'd already been growing privy to over time, gives clarity to some of it. So Hickey had forged a team of desperate men, collected them all — some preplanned, it seems, but others found, taken advantage of in those lost moments.
That last part that Gibson reveals is.... certainly a deep, deep, discomfort. Edward tries to refrain from letting it into his expression as much as he's able to, barely able to suppress a soft wince, a quiet horror in the dark browns of his eyes. Oh yes, it's so terribly ominous, so distressing — Hickey must have been planning to eat one of the men by then. (Had he already chosen Gibson by that point? Singled him out as the weakest, the sickest, made plans to force Goodsir's hand to cut into the poor man?)
It makes him sick. He sits there for a few long moments, processing things he does not wish to process, gloved hands slowly tightening in his lap as he rubs his fingers together, a way to self-soothe. ]
...I see. Thank you for telling me what you know. There is much I... haven't understood. But this has helped me to see much more of it.
[ He draws in a slow breath, trying to steady himself. ]
Mr. Hickey's corruption influenced so many men.... even Lieutenants and Marines... [ Several of them, but Tozer in particular was a crippling blow. The sergeant of the Marines himself, talked over to Hickey's side.... None of the rest of them had much of a chance, did they. It was too late. Like Hodgson and Gibson, they were starving, sick. Hickey made them think they had hope... had a saviour. Edward's lip curls in disgust, and he finally looks back up to the other man. ]
He is not a man, but a devil. But you are safe from him now. The rest of us won't allow him to be near you again.
[ ....Okay, Edward.
He sighs again, and reaches to gently pat the other man's thin shoulder once more, swallowing back his anger for the moment in favour of what's most important — Gibson's recovery. ]
You are welcome to stay here as long as you need. To eat and rest. I'll fetch whatever you need.
this is a good place to wrap it, i figure! c:
But despite that fact.. he knows the lieutenant is wrong. Hickey is very much a man, just like all of them. Billy has seen too much of the man to view him in any other light, even now. Despite everything he does, Hickey is a man, is incredibly human. Even now.. Billy doesn't feel scared of him, despite his death. Nothing about the thought of the other makes any fear of panic rise within his chest. Instead all he's thinking as he's sitting there is that he has to talk with Hickey, especially if he's here in this place too. Billy has so much to ask him. So much he wants to know.
(Did he enjoy it? Was it revenge for Billy's much earlier betrayal?
Or was it the way everything about Hickey was - a strange kind of transactional love?)
Of course he doesn't say any of it. There's no way Billy is going to spill his guts about that, not to anyone, let alone another lieutenant when one lieutant finding out about it all was the entire cause of the downward spiral.
So instead he swallows, and then slowly manages a: ]
.. thank you, sir.
[ He knows he has to sit here for a while first. Billy isn't sure if he'd be able to rise up onto his feet even if he'd try, not with how weak his body is feeling.
He first needs to regain some strength, and though the care being extended by Little is strange, in ways.. It's also kind of nice in ways Billy doesn't quite know how to deal with right now, except to just accept it.
He'll be here for a while, until he feels well enough to go into town. ]