this is not enough

A secret's worth depends on the people from whom it must be kept.

[hattiechllds]

✧ (for both mal and pantea!!)

mal

I would kill you. ✧ I would physically hurt you. ✧ I would attack you unprovoked. ✧ I would manipulate you. ✧ I dislike you. ✧ You annoy me. ✧ You scare me. ✧ You intimidate me. ✧ I hope I intimidate you. ✧ I pity you. ✧ You disgust me. ✧ I hate you. ✧ I’m indifferent toward you. ✧ I’d like to get to know you better. ✧   I’d like to spend more time with you. ✧ I’d like to be friends with you. ✧  I’m unsure what to think of you. ✧ I’m unsure how I feel about you. ✧ You are my friend. ✧ You are my best friend. ✧ You are my mentor. ✧ I look up to you. ✧ I respect you. ✧ You are my hero. ✧ You inspire me. ✧ You are my enemy. ✧ You make me happy. ✧ I want to protect you. ✧ I would fight by your side. ✧ I consider you an equal. ✧ I think you are beneath me. ✧ I think you are above me. ✧ I would lie for you. ✧ I would lie to you. ✧ I would sleep with you. ✧ I would sleep by your side. ✧ I would hug you. ✧ I would kiss you. ✧ You are family to me. ✧ I would die for you. ✧ I would kill for you. ✧ I would trust you with my life. ✧ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. ✧ I would trust you with a secret. ✧ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. ✧ I love you (platonically). ✧ I love you (romantically).

pantea

I would kill you. ✧ I would physically hurt you. ✧ I would attack you unprovoked. ✧ I would manipulate you. ✧ I dislike you. ✧ You annoy me. ✧ You scare me. ✧ You intimidate me. ✧ I hope I intimidate you. ✧ I pity you. ✧ You disgust me. ✧ I hate you. ✧ I’m indifferent toward you. ✧ I’d like to get to know you better. ✧   I’d like to spend more time with you. ✧ I’d like to be friends with you. ✧  I’m unsure what to think of you. ✧ I’m unsure how I feel about you. ✧ You are my friend. ✧ You are my best friend. ✧ You are my mentor. ✧ I look up to you. ✧ I respect you. ✧ You are my hero. ✧ You inspire me. ✧ You are my enemy. ✧ You make me happy. ✧ I want to protect you. ✧ I would fight by your side. ✧ I consider you an equal. ✧ I think you are beneath me. ✧ I think you are above me. ✧ I would lie for you. ✧ I would lie to you. ✧ I would sleep with you. ✧ I would sleep by your side. ✧ I would hug you. ✧ I would kiss you. ✧ You are family to me. ✧ I would die for you. ✧ I would kill for you. ✧ I would trust you with my life. ✧ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. ✧ I would trust you with a secret. ✧ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. ✧ I love you (platonically). ✧ I love you (romantically).

[ofnarcissas]

send me a ✧ and your characters name and i’ll bold all that applies: 

I would kill you. ✧ I would physically hurt you. ✧ I would attack you unprovoked. ✧ I would manipulate you. ✧ I dislike you. ✧ You annoy me. ✧ You scare me. ✧ You intimidate me. ✧ I hope I intimidate you. ✧ I pity you. ✧ You disgust me. ✧ I hate you. ✧ I’m indifferent toward you. ✧ I’d like to get to know you better. ✧   I’d like to spend more time with you. ✧ I’d like to be friends with you. ✧  I’m unsure what to think of you. ✧ I’m unsure how I feel about you. ✧ You are my friend. ✧ You are my best friend. ✧ You are my mentor. ✧ I look up to you. ✧ I respect you. ✧ You are my hero. ✧ You inspire me. ✧ You are my enemy. ✧ You make me happy. ✧ I want to protect you. ✧ I would fight by your side. ✧ I consider you an equal. ✧ I think you are beneath me. ✧ I think you are above me. ✧ I would lie for you. ✧ I would lie to you. ✧ I would sleep with you. ✧ I would sleep by your side. ✧ I would hug you. ✧ I would kiss you. ✧ You are family to me. ✧ I would die for you. ✧ I would kill for you. ✧ I would trust you with my life. ✧ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. ✧ I would trust you with a secret. ✧ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. ✧ I love you (platonically). ✧ I love you (romantically).

[hattiechllds]

swvnsong​:

it seemed among her trunks and ink wells and leather-bound notebooks, hattie childs had brought a sledgehammer with her on the voyage to the cold north. the public was rather interested in the rest of you. she slams it between rose’s ribs as casually as handing her a letter, and rose wonders if it is in the natural disposition of writers to enact violence in their written and spoken words.

“thank you,” she sniffs, looking over her shoulder, finding no answer to hattie’s last comment but the gaps of air in her throat. “perhaps you missed my last concerts.” she slips the bitterness into a silk dress, stepping into it foot by foot, until it wears something soft to touch. “understandable, as they were at smaller venues.” i attempted to keep my place, don’t you know? “the promethean is as grand a stage as any when you account for the audience — no more worthy souls than our brave crew, wouldn’t you agree ms. childs?” 

"i had rather pressing matters at the time of your last concerts, sorry to say. though, i'm certain they were most entertaining," she had heard a bit about the last few performances - though she couldn't quite bring herself to attend. for all the bitterness directed at her, she found no joy in the thought of pushing the other down any further. the rest of london was doing a fine job of that.

"i would hesitate to call this place a stage, more a stepping stone. i've no need to perform for the crew, i'm here to ensure the public knows what their heroes do while abroad - though if a captive audience is what you sought this is as good a place as any. i may need to attend your next performance, i'm certain my readers would be delighted to find you've returned to stage."

[hattiechllds]

devotedrowning​:

they let their tilted head twist towards her as she thanks him, for what? the courtesy to appreciate that which you ask for, to not bite at the hand of the messenger as such a simple courtesy? so he hums in acknowledgement, not sure whether this is such a thanks as to be accepted, feels his own posture righten slightly as she corrects her own.

‘ ah, i have managed to visit some, and they do a remarkable job whilst partaking. ’ they respond, finding the start of a smile force its way onto his face as she looks so resolute at being able to give them some entertainment. a balm, perhaps, for an unfortunate truth. still, they appreciate it, appreciates her, for her ability to talk and listen, and she probably knows far too much of the boring minutia of the crew at this point.

 so they let the smile grow just a touch before motioning back towards the tents. ‘ perhaps i just have to dive right back in. what events do you think deserve revisiting? ‘

not often she found herself appreciated for honesty - at least not from the person it was directed at. with so many past targets aboard she'd found herself growing weary. the steward had so far been one of the few who'd accepted her words without anger.

"well, with the topsy-turvy sovereign crowned most of the performers seem to have moved to the hall of games, i don't suppose you enjoy a bit of gambling? at this point in the night i imagine most the men there are too drunk to hide their hands all too well. might be worth another visit yes?"

[hattiechllds]

captdowling​:

“well, why should you? no such thing as failure in journalism, no? you lot are a resourceful bunch, finding stories where there are none, digging through the dregs for gossip.” the journalist has a sharp tongue, he’ll give her that, however infuriating it proves - pity she could not channel her passions into a profession with which he agreed. he laughs dryly, the sound laden with humorless exhaustion. “i never asked for an audience, much less an interactive one. i care not for the glory they’d rhapsodize.” what did applause matter if he rejected the accolade, mind, body and soul? if he did not deserve it? this is what hattie would never have seen even if she’d stayed aboard on the last voyage - the guilt that devours him whole.

his lips twitch upon spotting her notepad. “do you carry on any conversation without transcribing it, miss childs? you might glean more were you not bending over your notes.” his gaze averts to the seat beside her, seized by a moment of hesitation. dammit man, she’s not an actual viper. so he sits, grudgingly crossing his arms. “sustaining the men’s morale is a worthy endeavor, especially on such long voyages in harsh lands.” whether or not he deemed this particular venture excessive would not be known to her, and he bites his tongue.

She grips her pen a bit tighter, "I understand not every bit of information I published was flattering Captain, but I do hope you understand I released none of it with ill-intent. Nothing I wrote was without a source - your distaste for it does not mean it was built upon nothing. If anything I wrote was false, I implore you to tell me now. I would hate for your legacy - or my own - to build its foundation on falsehoods," she looks up from her journal, searching the captain's face for some understanding. 

"What do you care for? What does this expedition offer you if not glory?"

She places her pen to the side, "Perhaps, but I find having something to do with my hands helps me focus. Besides that, I am plenty capable of listening as I write," she relaxes a bit as he takes a seat. It didn't stop him from standing back up and leaving her there, but it was a start. "It wouldn't hurt for you to look at least a bit at ease, would it? It must be exhausting to hold yourself this way at all times, yes?"

[hattiechllds]

aveaugvstus​:

LATE EVENING. WITH @hattiechllds​ IN THE TENT OF WONDERS.

he is entirely too at home in the thick of chaos, careening past the silhouettes and harlequin crew with little to no regard for what lies ahead, behind, or to either side. the bartered contraband in his blood keeps him warm to the point of fever, heating him from within despite the cold of godhavn beginning to rise from sea to shore. a disgruntled pair of lovers, cosied up against a corner of the maze, fly apart as he barrels through them, a tempest of scarlet and sunlit gold. he spins on his heel to holler an apology, the momentum sending barrelling headlong into a poor, unwitting soul. at the last moment, his hands shoot out to snatch them out of gravity’s clutches and the war path of his precarious havoc. “miss childs!”  he cries, and promptly dissolves into a fit of breathless laughter.  

“is the evening not simply glorious? you must tell me you have been thoroughly enjoying all the games and delights carnivale has to offer.”  the curve of his grin is fever-bright, incandescent.  “i solemnly swear not to inform the admiralty you claimed this one evening of liberty for yourself.”

She holds back a curse as her bag is flung to the floor by the force of Augustus' hurricane of movement, any feeling ire she felt is extinguished by his laughter. "I've been a bit of bystander I'm afraid," her words are breathless, a small laugh escaping as Augustus' own infects her, "though the show everyone's put on has kept me entertained well enough," she pulls away from his hands to grab the bag from the floor, praying the case inside didn't crack open, "I appreciate your discretion, the sailors said there's something quite interesting at the center to find - and I'm afraid curiosity's gotten the best of me once again. I must assume it's gotten you as well," she looks to the casualties of his race through the maze, the young couple seemingly trying to bore holes through the men back, "You might consider slowing down a bit, I doubt these walls could withstand you tripping through them."

[hattiechllds]

A continuation of @devotedrowning ‘s response to this ask

‘ and that’s what you pride yourself on, isn’t it, ms. childs? ’ their tone holds no reproach but the twist to their lips speaks otherwise, before their eyes shutter and their shoulders slump. ‘ but, yes, i wanted the truth and i appreciate your candor. far be it for me to blame you for what i sought. ’

truth, to know if they are being too melancholic on this fine evening, but still, the bluntness and the words unsaid laid just as much weight, perhaps the truth that they wanted was one entirely subjective and favorable to themself.

"Above all else," she smiles, "and - thank you," the words come out a bit surprised and she watches them deflate. She straightens herself up a bit.

"Now, while that might be true in this moment, it doesn't have to stay as such," she scans the crowd, "I assume none of the attractions have lifted your mood? Or have you simply not visited. I must say the crew has truly outdone themselves with this."

[hattiechllds]

paintedsins​:

she reminds him much of himself, and snow has yet to decide whether or not that is a good thing. sharp. not yet cutting, and snow runs tongue over teeth just to bleed, swallows the taste. 

“the men onboard haunt themselves. i am certain you do not need me to tell you that. do you wish to publish their ghosts, or merely add to their haunting?” an arch of eyebrows, though tones stay pleasant. principle mattered little to him, but hard-earned secrets are not spilled without some form of payment. 

there is a smile, sliver of moonlight and just as pointed in the arctic winds. 

“i could do without the respect, darling. the public has decided infamy better suits me.” he neither denies nor confirms her question, leaves it open in the air between them. “what would you like to change, darling? your survival or your luck?” 

"Mm, from what I hear ghosts aren't tangible enough for paper but, if those such as yourself are to be believed, they might point in the direction of something very tangible," she returns the pleasant tone, "you must understand, with all you must have heard through your clients - there has to be some level of curiosity to find out exactly why they're haunted."

The unanswered question feels heavy, sinking in - it would be filed away for a later date, "And do you agree?" she watches for a crack, some hint of dissatisfaction or resignation, "Infamy is rather difficult to live with, though I suppose climbing out of it is a challenge not many are willing to take."

She paused at the question, "Neither, or both perhaps. It had been a blessing in disguise, leaving cost me my first-hand account - yet if I had stayed I likely would have joined those that speak though you. Why? Do you have some suggestions?"

[hattiechllds]

helenc​:

faces come and go, they arrive in the spring yet wilt in the winter. it is natural, it is as routine as the daily breaking of fast. yet she never forgot ms child; margarite. the woman who had weaved the truth into papers that normally spilt rumour and spoiled lies… and perhaps, by the nature of the human race, she was doomed to not seek her friendship or kinder eye… but aginst all those precious odds, helene sought her smile, her visage and shadow. meek with her approach, the noble lady (the one tarnished by her father’s plight) went to meet her aboard the ship’s deck, her fingers intertwined as she picks at her skin — the dry air was getting to her, no longer did they look noble.. this was the first step to her new beginning; a new life. taking to her side, she stood with the wind in her hair — the taste of salt leaving her parched for something more. “why do you find yourself here?” she asked, large eyes straying to catch her’s. “what lulled you to the hms promethean?” @hattiechllds​

It had been a surprise to see the Brunswick girl aboard the HMS Promethean, though not unwelcome. There was a certain amount of - regret wasn't quite the right word for it, but responsibility - she'd felt after releasing her piece on Charles Brunswick's involvement with the underbelly of London - she had been the one who'd inspired her to look into the man and in turn, she ruined the girl's family. Yet, her approach hadn't held the same bite as the others aboard who felt she'd slighted them. She looked so different from last they'd met, yet her face didn't betray the weariness she'd have expected. "The admiralty saw me fit to record this voyage, perhaps to hold it's crew accountable in a more - abstract sense," she looks to the Helene, meeting her gaze. "And you? I'd have expected you to be home with your mother, though I must assume this will be a bit more exciting than that."

[hattiechllds]

A continuation of @swvnsong ‘s response; x

“oh, do we speak of sight now, ms. childs? how unusual - i was sure your opinion of me relied on the sense of sound. that is what your piece was dictated upon, was it not? i shall ready myself for a review of what you find in the look of me.”

"Yes, well, your career was rather centered around it was it not? Though, the public was rather interested in the rest of you once that faltered," the words come without a thought, an observation.

"That said - you actually look lovely. Better than I last met at least. I'm glad to see it, I was quite the fan before, might still consider myself one. I was a bit sad to see you here rather than attempting a return to stage."

[hattiechllds]

THE GODKILLER — who would you hunt to the ends of the earth?

“I’ve not yet met a person worth doing so - but I’m certain if someone like that exists we’ll meet soon.”

[hattiechllds]

THE CHAPLAIN — what do you hold most sacred?

“Truth, above all else. Little else matters in the end.”

[hattiechllds]

terror; a vibes playlist [aka an excuse to throw a lot of music thats ominous and / or references the sea at everyone] listen here

we have it all [pim stones] || if i had a heart [fever ray] || the wolf in your darkest room [matthew mayfield] || eye of the storm [x ambassadors] || the otherside [wolf colony] || sound of awakening [walk the moon] || odyssey [talos] || and the world was gone [snow ghosts] || way down we go [kaleo] || everything goes dark [the hoosiers] || new river [the oh hellos] || a dark congregation [the hush sounds] || married to the sea [jenny dalton] || sanctuary [mother falcon] || devil’s in the details [the hoosiers] || ash tree lane [ms mr] || alligator teeth [mother falcon] || better known vacancy [jenny dalton] || burning man [richard thompson] || runaway [talos] || lost at sea [snow ghosts]

[hattiechllds]

captdowling​:

this damned snake. his lip curls into a grinning grimace, betraying neither pleasure nor pain at her words. “no, i imagine not. although i think a fine way of preventing a prevent is to haul that oversized printing press overboard - should we chance peril, i’d rather us float without your idle gossip than sink with it.” it’s a baseless threat, humming with idleness rather than pushed through gritted teeth - and aside from it, he’s certain she’d write her revelations in blood, if it came to it. 

he could simply leave, he supposes, be a bigger man than he has been and not allow any further engagement - at least, of the hostile kind. but to depart would be to admit defeat in one manner or another, that her words had any effect on him at all - and they did, certainly, but there was no need to acknowledge it and bolster her brazenness. 

“you should know thirty days is nothing. i’m surprised you’re not more exhausted, miss childs, yet you’re as spirited as the day you came aboard.” malachy sniffs. “credit to where credit is due - this is entirely commander wilkins’ creation - morale is certainly high, though if any serious injuries come about because of - this,” he gestures towards the contest, “then it will all be for naught. nonetheless, the commander will certainly enjoy your praise - and, i imagine, eager to humor the press.”

She let out a short laugh at the threat, "My, that's rather bold of you. I suppose it's a good sign you're thinking of contingencies already. Though, I find it's best not to dwell on thoughts of failure - self-fulfilling prophecies and all that nonsense," she waves her hand a bit, before returning to her paper. She doubted anything would come of the statement, and if it did it may be no great loss. As long as she remained her work would survive.

"Never much been one for exhaustion, not while there's such excitement about. You've quite an interesting group of passengers this time around, I must say I'm surprised to see how many guests wanted to join this time. More people to rhapsodize about your future heroics I suppose," 'more accounts to bring me your failures' goes unspoken.

She's quick to note Commander Wilkin's involvement in the circus, scribbling it in near illegible print, "I see, thank you for correcting my error. That said, you did allow it. I was rather shocked to hear it, but it's a rather nice change of pace," she gestures to the seat next to her, "Speaking of, I'm certain you can't enjoy standing so stoically all the time. I must insist you take a seat."

[hattiechllds]

wilccard​:

               —  Thoughtlessly, almost, or more rapid-fire than thought, Vladimir switched the liquor canister from his right hand and offered it to her. A jump, nothing more, like one would make to catch a body halfway into tumbling, which she sure as rocks seemed to. “You look a bit rattly on your feet, Miss. Sure I cannot take care of the lot outside for you? Fetch a dab of water, at the very least.” Vladya’s own eyes squinted in search for hers - whether she was averting them on purpose, or because the focus got mired in the booze-haze, he couldn’t very well say.

               He’d only heard as much of Hattie Childs as one might fill a thimble with. He knew of her exploits, on paper and beyond, and had caught some whiff of a friction with the Captain years ago. A doomed expedition, an inglorious return - what are such matters to the brass of the military? He knew she was insightful, and waspish-sharp, and altogether kept the title of an unapologetic woman. On any other day, Vladimir would’ve ruled in the favor of that. But this expedition had no room for people that couldn’t hold their own. Who were hard pressed to hold it; their tongues, their liquor. Hadn’t he said as much to Rose, before she joined? Or perhaps he’d meant to. The soldier’s chronology, though so painstakingly kept, grew muddy at the edges from the weeks they spent into their sail, and from the swabs of alcohol, soaking all sense up.

              Even if he feared he might witness her falling - which would be just grand for a man who spends his life avoiding rumors, having to call for the doctor (the bloody Doctor!) alone in a tent with a woman - his fingers were still ghosting above her greatcoat. Wary to touch her, far more wary not to. His eyes begged a response form her before he would be forced to clamp her down into a chair. “Miss Childs? You’re welcome to linger as much as you’d like, it’s a first-rate sight. But for myself, I’ll rest far easier if you do so seated.”

She took the hand as offered, grateful for the offered stability. "Well, that would be a sight to see, though I doubt it will be necessary. By the way they're stumbling I doubt it will be too long before they've moved on or fallen asleep. Though if you wish to I'll hardly stop you," she put her free hand to her temple, then took a seat.

"Thank you, it would be rather embarrassing for me to be taken down by a light show now wouldn't it?" the words came out a bit more strained than she would have liked - but she hoped the man wouldn't notice. She took a moment to collect her thoughts and for the nausea to subside. Once she was able to look again, she was struck with who exactly was in front of her. Vladimir, one of the soldiers dispatched by the queen to watch over them. She'd seen the man before, frequenting the same events, yet she'd never quite found anything of note in regards to him. That alone piqued her interest - no one was truly so clean - but with so many targets throwing themselves about London's elite, she'd let him be.

"Now then, you're Mister Yamatov - am I correct? I don't believe we've ever been properly introduced despite playing what I can only assume is a vital role in this expedition," she glances from his face to the bottle he holds, "I must say I'm surprised to see you in here, your colleagues both seem to be out enjoying the festivities, I would have thought you wouldn't be far behind."

[hattiechllds]

paintedsins​:

he hums in agreement at the girl’s first statement, in no place to say otherwise - he had quite enjoyed dear hattie’s past few pieces on the captain’s last expedition, called it research for this particular trip. he supposes he should thank her, but finds no real need to. 

“oh, of course not. those who know their fortunes opt to speak of themselves in it - sharing it only solidifies its existence. their voice replaces mine speaking it until they forget it was i who ever said it.” he sounds almost mournful, that touch of sadness practiced and perfect. he could almost fool himself into believing it to be genuine. 

“the streets of london are crawling with the dead.” he says simply, watches torchlight dance against shadow. “they were all begging to be heard. i imagine you understand, dear - it is the same way a story aches to be told. if it is not you who uncovers the tale of the truth, then who?”

he surveys her, as if debating. “what truth do you wish to find here, darling? the sea is not a forgiving place.” 

"Of course, giving voice to the unspoken," she agrees despite her misgivings of the supernatural. She had yet to find something so unexplained that spirits had to be the cause. 

Yet, she also couldn't deny the idea held some fascinating implications - nor could she deny the reality these clairvoyants often grew successful simply by studying their clients. Snow might prove useful, on that front. "Tell me, have you found any dead on this voyage? If any of our fellow passengers are haunted I think I might like to pay them a visit."

She meets his gaze, "I assume what I seek is the same as you, we're both just vying for the publics' attention and respect - aren't we? I can only imagine that's why you agreed to this interview. And - I am well aware of the risks I'm taking, I imagine others who I boarded with on the last voyage have come to you asking of their fallen comrades yes? I hate to admit my own survival was likely pure luck. I hope to change that, this time."

[hattiechllds]

mercatoris​:

with @hattiechllds at the hall of games

❛  reckon you can make them tell you a secret in exchange for your ration of chocolates ?  ❜  is tara’s idea of a greeting, almost as if roaring to go to business with the journalist before the journey has even properly started. from within the deep pockets of her antiquated faux-uniform, she takes out a clay pipe and puts it in her mouth, her other hand already trying to dig out the clump of tobacco she’d won earlier that day.  ❛  though,  ❜  she says, her voice turning in an almost-conspiratorial whisper, the pipe still in between her lips and bobbing along to the motions of her mouth,  ❛  i don’t think you need to trade much of anything at this point, considering the state that most of them are already in.  ❜  a packet of tobacco finally gets revealed, and she sprinkles some on her pipe, before patting along her pockets once more for a match.  ❛  with the way they’re behaving,  ❜  she says, voice distracted, gaze not even properly at hattie anymore,  ❛  i say that you could just prod them well enough and they’ll be singing like a lark—but say, you wouldn’t have a match about your person, would you ?  ❜

"Haven't needed to trade a single thing yet tonight," she returned the lowered tone, "these men are too focused on their cards to bother noticing if I'm listening to their game," she looks to Tara, "are you wishing to join me? Or earn some winnings of your own?"

"I'm certain I could get that one talking without liquor," she nods her head to a fresh-faced young man holding his cards so tightly she wouldn't doubt they'd be crushed if he held them any longer - and she could swear half of the smoke in the room emanated from his pipe, "as for a match - I'm afraid to say I've none, but he's certainly got plenty. Might even have some tobacco to spare if we play our cards right."