#brassandblue

[wantsusdead]

terror christmas icons!

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[admiraltyspride]

@brassandblue for... that timeline

Long years passed what would have been his natural life, Nelson had enjoyed the ambition, drive, ingenuity and cunningness of his friend, he had loved seeing him prosper and get stronger. For a long time he had believed that it was what Arthur deserved, that he was simply suited to such a progression and he had gone out of his way to support him with either counsel or his canons. Nelson too had enjoyed some of the benefits of that growth, all too happy to share in the riches, the bloated crewmen and ships at his disposal along with the ever expanding number of naval bases. 

That was of course until he had gone ashore and seen for himself the true source of all that splendour, the human cost to his friend’s rapid rise to power. There were people starving in the streets, thousands of them, men, women and children. Most too weak to even bother begging for money or a morsel of food. Then there were those being punished in brutal and public ways. He had never liked seeing the lash come out but it was the first time in his life where Nelson had felt his stomach turn and the Admiral was quite physically sick from the disgrace he was witnessing in what was supposed to be the crown jewel to the Empire. 

It had taken a little while but Nelson’s heart was too soft to see such unnecessary suffering. He had started at first in handing out money only to see that his country men would steal it right from the hands of the desperate in ‘tax’. So he had purchased food under the name of the admiralty and handed out what he could but it was never enough, there were always more coming, needing more. So his methods had turned more extreme, loosening the bolts on cartwheels so they would end up stuck with their load of food once off his ships, left to a rush of the hungry, ‘dropping’ crates of preserved foods onto the docks, leaving fish barrels unattended and feigning shock when they were emptied the next day. It had been the last act that had him caught, seen unlocking and leaving the doors of a storehouse of food and goods waiting for transport to a port. Which had landed him before his friend. 

He stood with his hand behind him, his back straight, sleeve pinned to his chest but his hat off out of respect for Arthur. His friend had changed too in all that time, more determined, colder, bolder and indeed stronger. “I am not about to come up with an excuse,” he began confidently, not letting his gaze drift from Arthur. “I left it unlocked on purpose because I simply had to.”

[honorhearted]

Arthur has requested an audience with Major Tallmadge. It is the day before Christmas Eve. (More men have volunteered for guard duty as of late. It is possible the reason for this is that Arthur has been knitting and stitching together stockings for his rotating sentries. It is possible no one has actually told the Major though, for fear that Arthur's (Anna-bestowed) sewing supplies will be confiscated.)

@brassandblue

Benjamin had never liked snow. It was cold, biting, miserable, and almost always brought about d.eath and contagion to many an unfortunate v.ictim. Now with the w.ar as a backdrop, and a general lack of provisions, it had also tacked on the very real fear of frostbite and churchyard cough. Any time he heard someone give that dry, rattling wheeze, Benjamin could sense their own mortality nipping at their heels.

D.eath was all around them.

And yet, in spite of that ever-present terror, the worst thing to endure was assuredly the slowness of December. Winter was a time of waiting. The men were granted a small reprieve from battle due to the extreme cold, but Benjamin found it to be a time of madness. There was no joy in being left alone with his thoughts – of spending more and more time locked up inside his own head.

Perhaps this was why Arthur had requested a moment of his time. Like it or not, the man did seem unnervingly in tune with Benjamin's moods, and he wouldn't deny that he needed a moment beyond his tent. It was rather lonesome on top of the unnerving quiet; many soldiers’ contracts had expired. This was a common occurrence – most had to be renewed every one to three years – and yet Benjamin was loyal to a fault. He intended to see this fight through to the bitter end.

"Lieutenant?" Cautious, he found the man huddled up in his quarters, his back presently facing him while he sat by the fire. Arching a brow -- what was he doing? -- Benjamin cleared his throat and added, "I apologize if I kept you waiting. I've been..." wallowing; yearning for home; opting for self-pity. "Er...I've been busy."

Moving over to stand alongside Arthur, he blinked down at the lieutenant's handiwork. "What are you doing?" he asked. "Have I been invited to a sewing circle?"

Despite the quip, he was genuinely awed by the man's progress. He didn't think he'd seen so many stockings in all his life.

[multipleoccupancy]

@brassandblue for TRM

There was an element to Moriarty that many would be wise to either never mention or overlook. The man for all of his grand and impressive capabilities had a certain penchant for the sensitivities and rules of what others would consider 'folklore'. Ever the opportunist and certainly one brave enough to take that step, Moriarty had for the past year been working on expanding the rail network in Europe for his own gains, but not without first informing and consulting with a particularly smoky and dangerous entity.

Respectfully the Professor had waited alone for his company to arrive, of course opting for the entrance of a rail tunnel, convenience for his business partner and in the relative if false security of the moonlight for himself. This was an informal meet up as far as Moriarty was concerned, while he would wisely grant the other the respect he naturally commanded, Moriarty himself was not worried. He knew he had done well recently with plenty of new lines between his factories and more than a few 'accidents' in their construction that would surely satisfy any unspoken quotas of blood between them. This was a very prosperous business for the pair of them, he was certain.

Wise enough not to turn his back to the tracks but still mindful not to look directly into the tunnel to allow his accomplice the privacy of his mysterious arrival. Moriarty stood side on to to tunnel, facing the tracks and a good six feet away from the rail. This time he waited excitedly with a roll of paper under his arm, plans to expand ever further, stretching the reach of both of them into the East and all the potential that brought with it.

[paralianprince]

@brassandblue continued from here !

[txt: idk some guy]: ok well the answer is O B V I OUS LY yes

[txt: idk some guy]: more important is my question. how awkward & awful would it be, hypthetically, for u to witness me openly weep. just wondring. asking for no reason

[musclesandspells]

Closed starter for @brassandblue : Thomas Blanky

It could smell death, and it was not the only thing in that barren land that could. A polar bear was tracking the man from a distance, head lifted into the air as it inhaled the scent of his body and his wound. The great white bear would never reach him. He was not worth the effort to the beast, another greater hunter causing it to turn away.

Gravel grit beneath the paws of the creature, cascading down the hillside. There was an unevenness to its gait, a telltale sign of injury.

It... was not healing, as it should have. Wounds that had been given to it by the strangers on the ice were staying etched into its skin. The weight of its body was dropping off of it with each passing day, regardless of the slick fat and rich meat of the seals it caught. A blackness had started to form along the lines of its gums, the soft pressure of letting its teeth sit together forcing blood from the sockets.

More small rocks scattered in front of it as it walked forward, towards the lone man seated on the stones. Death was coming for him, carried on the boney shoulders of a once proud creature.

These men were never meant to have known about it, to have seen it. It was never meant to have tasted their flesh or fed itself on the things that they brought with them. Not all of them wore the soft skins of animals. Many of them wore things studded in metals from the Earth, things that caught in the creature's throat. Thick fabrics that it struggled to pull from its gullet in the wake of its own wrath.

They ate things from within the metal, metal that gave way under the Tuunbaq's teeth and spilled the meats and vegetables that were contained within. It had eaten these little offerings when it had found them on the ice, no more aware of the dangers those metals posed than the great white bears that would have readily done the same thing.

It knew what iron was, of course. It even knew the bloody taste of copper. It knew of the metals that came crashing to the Earth from the sky. None of them were like what these men brought with them, soft and pliable beneath its teeth and claws. All of those little offerings of food on the ice tasted of the foreign metal.

It stopped behind the man, listening to the sounds that he made, and breathed in his scent. They had tangled, before. It bore a wound on its shoulder from that encounter, a gnarled scar that ate into the thing's thinning muscle. It didn't understand the sounds that the man was making at it: "What in the name of God took you so fuckin' long?"

The creature took another step forward.

[tatteredxsails]

[imprvdente]

@brassandblue​ sent: “The world used to be a bigger place.” / Arthur @ Fish, Terror AU from: 𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒

Hidden away from the cold in the hull of the ship, Fish was sitting on the floor. Laying on the floor, actually. It helped with the pain on her back (a stupid fall on the ice, she didn’t want to talk about it). When Arthur spoke, she looked away from the ceiling to find his silhouette standing not too far from her.

“You talk as if you were here when the world was bigger,” she mused mindlessly, smiling at the thought.

“The world used to be so small for me, before. All I knew was the port, the brothel, the dirty streets. Now... I’ve seen so much of it. And here? Feels like the goddamn end of the world.”

[tooxldtorememxer]

( @brassandblue continued from here )

“I’m sorry what?” did he hear that right? His eyes narrowed slightly and like a wild beast jumping its prey, he darted across the room and jumped onto the couch next to him, almost on top of him as he basically sat in a squat and leaned over him. “Say that again?” he didn’t have to because he was pretty sure what he’d just heard was the most ridiculous thing in history. “Collins!?” he more or less yelled. There was no one there except them so no one would hear him or his laugh that erupted after. It wasn’t menacing or taunting, but it was funny to him. At least he had finally admitted to it. This was the time to celebrate and devise a plan of action to get these two dumb dumbs together because fuck it was painful to watch sometimes.

“Well,” he said once he’d stopped laughing and tipped back a little so he was actually sitting on the couch and wrapped his arms around his legs instead. “Have you... You know… Asked him what his type is?” he prompted. “Perhaps he is into curly-haired little twinks,” he grinned and reached out to ruffle his hair. No amount of hair gel in the world would stop him from doing so.

“So what are you gonna do?” he asked and propped his chin on his knees, looking at him curiously. “If you say nothing - Harry, I swear to God I will lick two of your forks and put them back in the drawer,” it wouldn’t hurt for him to get to know if Collins was interested or not, right? That way he would know if he was wasting his time and avoided getting hurt.

[elleprotegera]

“Think you can outrun the world?” / Blanky @ Amicia, Terror!verse

You think you can run? You think you can hide?

It was a threat. Or, had been. Spat again and again from the lips of jeering men who were wolves stalking rabbits. It had been uttered in anger, in mockery, in murderous intent. It had been shouted by predators infuriated that their prey would flee. Always by men already satisfied that they would have blood in the end.

It was also something she'd been asking herself for months.

When will it end? Does it end? When you can't take another step, what then? Is all of this for nothing?

She'd fought it for so long, snapping retorts (I can, I will, I must) quickly, desperately, no time to dwell. There was never time, and she'd dared not meet the true answer's eye; it remained an obscure figure in the shadows, churning in the dark like the Horde, waiting to devour.

So Amicia bristled at the question, tongue sharp in her mouth. Instinct screamed to run yet again, to take the sleeping child on her lap and go, even if it meant braving the endless ice.

But this man was different. Is he? He had been...kind. Had offered protection, made Hugo laugh.

Trust was a starved, beaten dog creeping toward an outstretched hand, wanting yet coiled to bolt or bite if that hand should be raised.

She stared back at the man, searching his face and finding no malice there. Still, she clutched Hugo that much closer. Embers of caution burned. They hardened her voice, but she heard a tremor in it and would have cursed the weakness if her brother was awake to hear.

"I will do whatever I have to, for Hugo's sake," she said, but the last was a murmur, "Maybe if the world would let us be, we wouldn't need to outrun it.

[herstoriies]

@brassandblue

Red’s 1.3K FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION @waltzingtostars requested: Henry Goodsir from The Terror (2018)

[wantsusdead]

starter for @brassandblue

The captain inhaled as he reached the top of the staircase; the worn hardwood step creaking under his weight, preparing to face the ice cold of the main deck. Swinging open the hatch door, he stepped out into the open, feeling his breathing hitch as the freezing air hit his lungs. No matter how many times he experienced it, it always took his breath away; he only got better at hiding it. His exhaled breaths turned instantly into a cloud around his head as though he was smoking a cigarette. As cold as it was below deck, even in his own cabin, it was nothing compared to the outside chill.

He glanced around at the hands on deck, the men working faster as soon as they caught a glimpse of their captain. He nodded to them as they moved about the deck, and walked towards the bow, looking towards his vessel's sister ship several hundred yards away. The sun was low in the sky and he knew it wouldn't be long before they had no sun at all. One hundred days of darkness.

[governmentofficial]

@brassandblue continued from [x]

They were sat in Arthur’s gardenside sitting room enjoying tea and biscuits. George was sprawled on the floor, tummy up, snoozing in the warmth of a sunbeam.

“Oh Mycroft… I’d take that as a compliment but I know that sort of thing vexes you. But… I might take it as a compliment anyway,” Arthur smiled fondly. After all, Mycroft still elected to associate with and even remain in a relationship with Arthur. That certainly counted for something–a great deal of something.

To be quite honest, perhaps it was a compliment. Mycroft really wasn’t sure. On one hand, it wasn’t. One of the reasons why he struggled to get his head around Arthur’s existence was, well, everything about him. He really did not make sense and, as fascinating as the result of that could be, Mycroft certainly had a preference for keeping the world as he expected it to be.

But, on the other hand, another reason why Arthur sometimes did not seem real was because he was so kind. Mycroft was not used to that. Which was not to say that he didn’t like it (he actually adored it), but it made him do a double take sometimes.

“You can take it as a compliment,” Mycroft decided, meeting Arthur’s smile with a small one of his own. “I think you deserve that.”

[honorhearted]

@brassandblue continued from (x)

The chipper yep! wasn't grating, per se, and yet it certainly wasn't welcome as Ben sat there amongst mounds upon mounds of paperwork. With his lips pulling back into a grimace, he rolled his eyes and dipped his quill back into his inkwell.

Everyone's a bloody comedian, he thought. Finally, he offered, "I really don't think you want to know what I'm thinking. Seeing how I've been on the delivering end of a bayonet at close contact, I'm sure you can draw a few sound conclusions."

Despite the not-so-veiled threat, there was finally a hint of humor in Ben's tone as he worked, never once lifting his eyes from his various maps and reports. "Besides," he continued on, "it wasn't my aim to insult you, so much as to divert. Believe me: you would know if I was trying to wound your vanity."

"Just 'cause I'm asking you questions, doesn't mean you gotta answer, Sir."

The tension in Ben's shoulders softened somewhat, however slight. "I wasn't aware it was rude to make an observation," he said. "Most people in this camp don't strive to make friendships and connections. There's too much of a risk of..." separation. Death. Loss. "Well, friendships of our sort are fleeting at best." He shrugged, lifting his head to regard the other. "You can ask all you'd like, but I wouldn't recommend getting too attached to anyone."

It was bleak -- defeatist, perhaps -- but just last week, Ben had gazed down into the open, ruptured chest cavity of a fellow dragoon before delivering news of the man's death himself. The man's wife -- a camp follower -- had crumpled right into his arms, wailing and scratching at his coat. His loosened button still needed mending from the unintentional assault.

Clearing his throat, Ben leaned back in his seat and rubbed at his tired eyes, both in an attempt at unobscuring his vision and preventing any sudden tears.

[multipleoccupancy]

❝ i know you’re dying to say something to me. ❞ - Arthur @ Killian--Arthur visiting the US in an official capacity, thus besuited & not the easiest to approach ✨

Agent Beneventi in his capacity as an ASAC for Manhattan had gone to the reception to greet the British visitors. He appeared as a hard man, he knew he could certainly draw the eyes of the room by just being in there for his scaring but even he had noticed the tall blond official from the other end of the room who seemed to be something of a charismatic beacon. Which meant he was surprised that he had decided to prompt him for his apparent curiosity but he was not about to let it pass by either.

"Airs and graces are sadly not my forte," he explained with an almost shy smile. Put him in front of crime lords, judges or incomprehensible cosmic horrors without flinching, but some fancy reception he was far out of his depth for? He'd never been more uncomfortable. "So please forgive me if I seem impolite, but I will be honest with you sir, I haven't the first idea what it is I am doing here."

[paralianprince]

[A text from Arthur] Oi have you seen the Lord of the Rings? The Peter Jackson films. Can't remember if you have. Anyway I've got a 4K projector and the original extended versions on DVD.

[txt: idk some guy]: are

[txt: idk some guy]: you

[txt: idk some guy]: con

[txt: idk some guy]: CUSSED?

[txt: idk some guy]: ok tbh tbh this has been a v valiant attempt on yr part to impersonate my brother & lead me into a trap but im afraid tis all for naught i have seen thru yr ruse. he would never ask me suxh a silly question