[ The broad strokes are already known to Tim, at least those which can be known from books and reports, with no survivors to tell the story. Stuck in the ice, ships abandoned, frightened men trying their hardest to prolong a death march. Search parties leaving years too late, so few bodies recovered. An unthinkable tragedy.
But Goodsir isn’t a figure in a history book. He’s flesh and blood, breath and kindness, here to offer him kindness after knowing him for a week and dealing with so much himself. He tells his story and it’s even worse than he knew. They were starving before they should have been, slowly poisoning themselves for years.
Tim listens attentively, warm brown eyes going glassy with feeling. Despair on a new friend’s behalf, impotent anger that’s over a century too late for the lack of rescue, the lack of...something, whatever could have avoided this. ]
I...
[ Cut marks on the bones. The scandal, the ungodly implications. He’d almost forgotten. Tim takes another sip of his tea, suddenly craving the warmth, and then puts the cup down softly next to the tray. ]
I think so. Does that mean you were...?
[ Eaten? He dare not say it. But Goodsir has such a gentle disposition, it’s hard to see it the other way around. ]
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timeasmymeasure
all that continued ok
Date: 2025-03-27 03:25 pm (UTC)But Goodsir isn’t a figure in a history book. He’s flesh and blood, breath and kindness, here to offer him kindness after knowing him for a week and dealing with so much himself. He tells his story and it’s even worse than he knew. They were starving before they should have been, slowly poisoning themselves for years.
Tim listens attentively, warm brown eyes going glassy with feeling. Despair on a new friend’s behalf, impotent anger that’s over a century too late for the lack of rescue, the lack of...something, whatever could have avoided this. ]
I...
[ Cut marks on the bones. The scandal, the ungodly implications. He’d almost forgotten. Tim takes another sip of his tea, suddenly craving the warmth, and then puts the cup down softly next to the tray. ]
I think so. Does that mean you were...?
[ Eaten? He dare not say it. But Goodsir has such a gentle disposition, it’s hard to see it the other way around. ]