Icy Northwest Terror
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» New Members Come Here
-"Colours"- EmptySun May 10, 2020 9:28 pm by Cornelius Hickey 11:11

» Admins's Foruming tips
-"Colours"- EmptyMon Feb 03, 2020 12:08 am by What-a-terrorific-mess

» James Fitzjames/Henry T. D. Le Vescante
-"Colours"- EmptySun Feb 02, 2020 9:17 pm by What-a-terrorific-mess

» Lieutenant Fairholme
-"Colours"- EmptySun Feb 02, 2020 9:15 pm by What-a-terrorific-mess

» Red Flares
-"Colours"- EmptyThu Jan 02, 2020 9:07 pm by What-a-terrorific-mess

» A "Terror" readalong?
-"Colours"- EmptyThu Jan 02, 2020 8:55 pm by What-a-terrorific-mess

» -"Colours"-
-"Colours"- EmptyThu Jan 02, 2020 8:53 pm by What-a-terrorific-mess

» WATM's Memes III
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» WATM's Memes II
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Post by What-a-terrorific-mess Thu Jan 02, 2020 8:53 pm

Mr Collins swallowed thickly as he glanced across the tent to some of the various bottles of draughts upon Dr Goodsir’s work space.

He was so miserable… and he knew he could surely find something over there to ease his troubles.

What a relief it was when Mr Peglar diverted Mr Bridgens attention from his patient, him, well not for much longer.

Closing the distance between himself and Goodsir’s stores he curiously looked at the labels, one of them catching his attention rather quickly.

Wine of cocoa.

That should work perfectly.

He knew he shouldn’t, but at this point his conscious was the least of his worries, he just wanted these damn demons plagued from his mind!

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

What a wonderful place this was! How could anyone ever want to leave!?

Beautiful swirls of whites and blues of so many different colors, everything was so vibrant and grand!

So much color! Purples and blues and silvers and whites and sometimes yellows!

Blues so serene and.. and… well blue! Like the sea, the open sea on which he loved to sail, blue like the eyes of the dog his family had as a boy, blue like the navy coat he wore now.

Purples like clouds on a beautiful sunset or pretty petals of lavender.

White so pure and void like a million day breaks, like the fluffy fur of them white bears, like the ice in it’s wonderful shapes and edges, like snow, like flour and sugar, fluffy whites of clouds!

He exhaled a breath and watched marvelled as a puff of white added to the list of things of such a beautiful shade of innocent white!

Yellows like the glow of candlelight on the nights he would work on a report for his commanding officer, yellow like the bright sun in the sky that you were not to look at for too long, a beautiful golden yellow like thousands of sunflowers!

Silver like the fine finish of the sharp blade of a sword, like the shale under his feet, like… like the beautiful silver man walking towards him right now! With such a profound head of silver on both face and beard.

Like a silver fox!

These colours brought him much joy!

As he and this man came closer he felt such ungovernable joy upon seeing such a grand color that he threw himself at the man, smiling so intractably, as he wrapped his arms around the taller man’s shoulders.

“I love silver!”

The man stiffened under his touch and snorted. Eyes also a magnificent gray met his, they held amusement and something… he couldn’t place right now.

“Alright Mr Collins.” he gruffed shrugging out from underneath his arm to continue on his way.

This place so beautiful! SO much vibrancy! He loved it! He would never think ill of it again!!

Another man was passing him and oh my goodness that hat!

Beaming widely he reached out and plucked the thing off the other man’s head, putting it lopsided over his unruly curls and gave him an equally lopsided grin as he continued around the camp. The man giving him a confused and indifferent look as he moved passed him.

He couldn’t be bothered though.

Life was so wonderful! He loved it!

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As he sat slumped by the canvas tent giggling uncomfortably and watching in wonder as colours blurred passed him, most of them had faces that would occasionally turn to look at him as they walked by.

“Mr Collins?” someone called out to him and he tittered when he found out who it was.

Why was the man named Little? He wasn’t small like Terror’s caulker’s mate. He was rather tall, not quite as tall as Fitzjames or Crozier but still tall.

Tall, stoic, burly, and strong.

He wasn’t little at all.

The man’s boots came to a stop in front of him and he looked up with a curious, amused grin, giggling.

“Why are you called Little?”

His words seemed to fluster the lieutenant because he just gaped at him in surprise, mouth opening to respond but a loss for words.

“I… Mr Collins are you ill?”

“You’re not little at all Little! I admire you, sir! Strong and resilient!”

“That’s… wonderful Mr Collins…”

A commotion across the camp distracted the other man and he reluctantly turned back towards him, his eyes full of worry, “Stay right here Mr Collins, don’t go anywhere I’ll be back.”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

He inhaled deeply and marvelled how cool the air felt on his heated body as it filled his lungs.

It felt so soothing and fresh!

A blur of blue and black began to pass only to stop and stare.

“M-Mr Collins?” came a soft spoken voice that he couldn’t place, but he knew he should.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jopson was nervous, he knew that something was coming now that Hickey’s crimes had been revealed.

When they’d learned that the armoury had been opened without Captain Fitzjames authorization, he’d never seen the captain look so shaken, not even when Mr Blanky lost his leg.

Their Captain was worried.

Mutiny was on just a blink away and he was struggling to find out who all was involved.

He had a feeling something else had transpired that Edward was not reiterating completely and he was on his way to speak to the man.

If Edward was withholding information than he needed to voice it immediately, whether it was a mistake on his part or not.

Something had definitely happened.

As he moved passed the tents in brisk strides he paused when he saw a man sitting against the opening of one of the tents, his back resting against the canvas as he looked around with wide, fascinated eyes and a happy grin on his face.

He froze in place as he passed the sailor.

A haunting flash of images flashed through Thomas’s head.

Combing long dark hair, holding it back as she retched into the basin for the sixteenth time within but the morning.

White pale sweaty skin and blue eyes that were stained with tears.

‘Oh my sweet Tom… you wonderful child of mine… I don’t deserve your kindness.’

Swallowing thickly he turned back around to stare at the sailor, he couldn’t help the look of dread and discomforting horror that crossed his features.

That crazed look in the man’s eyes, the far away but jolly shine of his eyes, pupils blown wide with drug use, high pitched giggles and looking at everything with wonder and joy.

Studying more closely he recognized the face as Erebus’s Second Master, Mr Henry Collins.

He’d heard from Dr Goodsir that the man had been struggling. That was all he was willing to share for the man’s privacy of course, and he wasn’t going to pry.

The man was high as the clouds.

Swallowing thickly he took a step forward kneeling down in front of the other officer with a look of concern on his face.

Already forgetting his promotion in the wake of his nature to care for others, as he’d done his whole life, he addressed the man placing two gentle hands on the man’s shoulders, “Mr Collins, sir?”

Henry gasped and looked at him quickly the movement so fast it sent dark curls bouncing about.

When he slid his hands down the man’s shoulders to his biceps a happy smile broadened upon the man’s gray whiskered face and he excitedly leaned forward wrapping his arms around his middle in a tight embrace.

Awkwardly he patted the man’s back and pried himself from his hold, looking at him with concerned eyes.

“Lieutenant Jopson.”

Turning his head to the voice he found Mr Peglar looking at him with a similar concern in his eyes, but more so a sympathetic voice of empathy when he shifted his gaze between the two men.

“Captain Crozier requests an audience, sir.”

His thoughts weighing heavily between his new rank and his concern for this poor man before him he sighed, knowing he couldn’t disobey.

“Would you… let Dr Goodsir know when you see him?” he asked, even though he knew he was meant to lead and could have made it an order.

Everything was still so new and uncomfortable to him.

“Of course, sir.” the other man replied with a sweet smile and a salute.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Colours were so wonderful! He loved the colours!

But then the colours vanished…

The beautiful ones vanished and as he stumbled through the shale looking around he was horrified by all the red that surrounded him, the screams of men, and the roars of this massive creature that had hunted them.

He saw one last burst of beautiful white, but a white tainted with black and red before he saw nothing.

It would forever be red.
What-a-terrorific-mess
What-a-terrorific-mess
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