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Mar 2, 2022

Omnishambles

Chapter 3

In which Joxter isn't handling the situation as well as I'd hoped, we try to find a way to send the Nibling home, tensions rise and Hodgkins and I aren't as different as I had thought. A strange new thing appears outside.

Prolog | Chapter 1 | Previous Chapter

[features the whole Oshun Oxtra + the Nibling. Explicit Juddler. Angst. 3.7k words. Sorry if this chapter is a bit of a mess and sorry for taking so long. I didn't make illustrations this time as they felt unneeded.]

🥀

Joxter and Moomin approached us after a quiet while, they were careful and silent, neither wanted to scare me and Moomin was afraid of Hodgkins. Joxter, with a slight smile on his face and his paws behind his back, came up to me. He turned his head toward Hodgkins for approval and he gave such by unwrapping his arm around me, slowly taking me away from the hug.

Joxter sat down on his knees before me and dumped his pocket of things in the vain of what he had found yesterday, buttons, scraps of cloth, springs, screws and other things I might've lost on this boat while I still had the tin, it must've taken some effort to dig those up.

"I found most of these yesterday while you were sleeping," he explained "I believe these ones are a bit older, you had fished them out of the river years ago and admired them for a few hours each," he picked up some of the odd buttons from the pile and presented them, he took out a red triangular one with his other paw and held it between his fingers "You said some really profound things about the geometry of this one in particular, and you were so fond of this shade!"

I tilted my head to look at the Moomin behind Joxter, he seemed to be annoyed at what Joxter was saying, and then he turned away with a guilty look. I wondered what he was thinking.

"Do you… remember?" Joxter's eyebrows lowered and his smile weakened. I looked at him, the answer was that I didn't remember, sadly, so I shook my head and lowered his paw with mine. I didn't like the color anymore either.

Joxter's expression dropped and he placed the triangular button back on the pile. He sighed "That's… alright. Your memory of that doesn't really matter anyway, we're building a new collection and I'm looking forward to seeing if you have any new perspective on these things," he dropped the pile on the floor and scooped the whole thing up to put it back in his pocket.

My Joxter has always been one to listen to my unimportant ramblings about whatever knick knack came to my attention and talking about all there is to talk about a small insignificant decoration, perhaps I even went way far beyond what could be said about it. Yet he was still happy to lay down beside me and pull his hat over his face to fall asleep to my prattles.

I don't really remember most of them. Joxter remembered more things about me than I did. I can't say why that is, me being forgetful. Perhaps I was just like that, or that the thought of my collection took up more space in my mind than my own sense of identity, or I was trying to forget the pains of my childhood and forgot the good or simple memories along with them.

My memory of my life became a vague and indistinct mass of emotions and 'It wasn't like the present', of details that should be obvious or memories recounted to me by others, and a vague line between the two periods of my life between 'was alright' and 'was in the most pain anyone could imagine'. I know this was a more recent problem of mine, but 'recent' was also a vague window of time from after Edward ruined our lives.

This worried Joxter a lot and Hodgkins gave concerned glances whenever my lack of memory on anything was brought up.

The one thing I held onto dearly was the very nebulous fact that my parents were lost in a spring cleaning. That's the story Hodgkins keeps telling and I have no choice but to believe him, in fact, I've always used it to comfort myself, to think they were good and gracious and still out there. I'm starting to have my doubts.

If I had the heart to lie about it I would've spared myself the heartache of seeing my Joxter's eyes glint with fear and concern over me, over us, that a lack of me not remembering how we came to be romantic or how we even met would somehow make our relationship falter from its foundation. I was also scared by proximity, but my feelings for him remained untouched as it were; I was still very attached to him and I knew my feelings were just like this for a long, long time. How Joxter sees this, however, I don't know. I'm scared of whether he felt differently.

"I like your new coat, by the way," Joxter commented.

"I got it for him, clothes from yesterday disappeared when put back on," Hodgkins said and got up.

"Ohh… I see, good to know… think we can get him more?" Joxter asked.

"If they fit," Hodgkins replied and put his paws in his pockets "In the meantime, we should start thinking of other matters. Muddler is important of course but not the only problem to worry about."

"And what would they be?" Joxter said, suddenly feeling slighted on my behalf.

"The Nibling, for one; a small child separated from his family and is causing problems with our flooring just by walking on it, need a way to send him home. Could also help with postponing a food shortage. Second, we need to prepare, that storm knocked us into a crisis, we're not letting it happen again. Thirdly-"

"And you're going to leave us to our devices like you always do?" Joxter interrupted him and got up. "That's half the reason we got into this mess! And you're going to continue neglecting your crew? Your nephew?"

"I'm not…" Hodgkins sighed "I'm not neglecting you."

"You've been neglecting your nephew since he painted his tin and now you're dropping him after you feel you've done enough already?" Joxter accused rashly.

"Joxter, I've already discussed things with Muddler, there's no need to argue, especially not in front of him."

"And how long until either of you forget about your little discussion and go back to the exact same dynamic?"

Hodgkins stared at Joxter and looked indignant but couldn't come up with a retort, he grumbled and pinched his nose. "Moomin," he ordered, trying to keep his tone calm "Could you fetch the Nibling for us?"

"Yes- Yes sir," Moomin saluted and went away.

I felt terribly guilty.

"And you're just-" I tugged at Joxter by the shoulders before he could finish, I tightened my grip on him and shook my head when he looked at me in surprise. His expression softened and I felt like retreating into myself like a turtle.

I shouldn't have done that, I should not have done that.

I let go of him and stepped back, staring at the shadowed floor.

Hodgkins looked at my coat silently and sympathetically then sighed. "You're trying to stand up for Muddler like you always do, I know that, but this time's unnecessary. You're being irrational."

Joxter didn't reply and simply crossed his arms. After a few seconds of thought he finally spoke up and asked "What else am I meant to do if he literally can't speak for himself?"

Hodgkins thought on the answer and shrugged "Be more cooperative? I know that you love Muddler but eliminating other issues should be something to be done. Unless you want to designate yourself as his servant for the time being." he joked at the end.

Joxter was not amused.

"That… was a half-hearted suggestion," Hodgkins admitted awkwardly.

We all stood in awkward silence until Moomin finally came back while holding the Nibling like a small toy. "Well, here he is," he said and plopped the small creature down gently.

"Thank you," Hodgkins replied and looked down at the Nibling, who seemed rather intimidated.

"Did I do something wrong…?" he asked Hodgkins innocently.

"No," Hodgkins answered plainly "We were just looking to get you home," he said and crouched down to seem less threatening "You miss your mother, don't you?"

"Maybe…" the Nibling answered hesitantly, fiddling with his fingers.

Hodgkins seemed a little unsatisfied with the answer "Your home? Your friends?" he continued questioning "You'll surely miss it all eventually, and we're in no condition to care for you when we don't know how much longer we'll last on this boat."

The Nibling nodded understandably. "You know how to send me back?"

"That's just why Moomin brought you here, we thought you might help in brainstorming how to send you home."

"Hm…" the Nibling hummed thoughtfully and sat down on the floor. "Maybe you can put me in a box and I'll float back?"

"Tides are unpredictable," Hodgkins replied "Can take you anywhere, probably not home…"

"Maybe we could tie a balloon to him and we can swim across the air back home?" Moomin suggested.

"First of all; no helium-"

"What if we ask one of the sea creatures down below for help sending him?" Joxter suggested.

"And risk him getting eaten?"

"We already have a possibly dead hemulen woman on our conscience, what's a small Nibling worth more?" Joxter retorted.

"Joxter this is a small child who hasn't done anything worth death-" Hodgkins said before being cut off by Moomin;

"Sorry but the Hemulen Aunt being a tad annoying was worth getting her nose eaten…?" he asked sheepishly.

"He ate your anchor rope and made us drift into this mess! He ruined our sleeping quarters and floors and made Muddler clean the whole darn thing up!" Joxter argued.

"That's- That's not what I- that isn't what… that… not… damnit!" Hodgkins went from crouching to sitting on the floor and held his forehead. "Fff… dumb… stutter…" he mumbled to himself and sighed heavily "Stars, how did we get into this mess?"

"We… wouldn't be here if Moomin hadn't felt 'hErOiC' and saved that hemulen from the Groke!" Joxter accused.

"What!? The Nibling stowed away by himself and the hoard got on the ship on their own accord! If anything they would've kidnapped someone else if I hadn't gotten her on board!" Moomin defended himself.

Hodgkins saw where this was going "That was a rhet-"

"And we should THANK YOU for that?"

"M- maybe!"

"'MAYBE'? REALLY?"

"DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY NO? I'VE BEEN FEELING LIKE I'VE DONE NOTHING BUT WRONG SINCE I GOT ON THIS BOAT AND I WOULD LIKE JUST A LITTLE APPRECIATION SO I DON'T FEEL THE NEED TO JUMP OFF HERE AND DROWN MYSELF!"

"OH? OH SO YOU FEEL WORTHLESS ON THIS BOAT? YOU DIDN'T EVEN TRY TO PLAY NICE WITH US! MEANWHILE MY B-FFFRIEND LOST HIS MOST VALUABLE THING AND TURNED INVISIBLE AND WE'RE ALL STUCK HERE WITH YOU!"

"That's eno-"

"'YOU'RE STUCK HERE WITH ME'??? STUCK WITH ME??? AM I THAT MUCH OF A BURDEN???"

"Enough-"

"PERHAPS YOU ARE YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF-!"

"ENOUGH!" Hodgkins yelled and stopped the fight. It was a horrible, piercing yell, one that I haven't heard from him… ever. The irritation on his face subsided into guilt and held his face in his palm "Shouldn't even have built this damned boat in the first place," he said and got up, pinching the bridge of his nose and then slowly lowered his paw to his mouth and looked at the ground sadly.

Moomin's eyes lowered guiltily and he fiddled with his own paws, meanwhile Joxter looked down and didn't seem remorseful, just upset, the Nibling was scared and didn't say a word.

I, on the other hand, felt hopeless.

I wanted to do so many contradictory things at once. I wanted to cry and comfort all of them, I wanted to yell at them to just get along, I wanted to tell them it's okay, it will be fine, I will be fine, I wanted to admit that I doubt I'll ever be fine, I wanted to run away to the lower deck, I wanted to tell Joxter off for saying those hurtful things to Moomin, I wanted to tell Moomin that he should've closed his mouth, I wanted to suggest we should use a telegram for the Nibling, I wanted to do nothing at all. I froze and did just the last thing, for I hadn't the voice or will to do the rest.

What am I worth if I can't do anything?

Why did they have to feel hurt?

Why did I have to hurt them?

I couldn't even find some socks for the Nibling to wear, and now I am completely unable to. He's just sitting there, scared and helpless — he's just a child, as Hodgkins said, he shouldn't be here with a bunch of filthy, awful, unruly sailors, he should be home by now, but we don't know which direction it's in anymore.

… What did we do?

I felt Hodgkins' paw on my shoulder and I felt reality fall on me like a tower. I suddenly remembered I'm meant to respond to this situation somehow, and I did the first thing I always do.

Cry.

Dark tears ran down my face and I desperately clung onto my uncle's arm. I sobbed.

Short, sudden breaths could be seen and felt as my whole person seemed to shake up and down and drew closer to Hodgkins for a hug.

"I'm sorry," Hodgkins whispered and held me back from the hug. "We- we should leave," he paused "Now. We should leave now."

It took a while for me to take in what he meant and then I nodded slowly. He guided me away from the rest and into the pilot-house.

"Taking him to the tower just like yesterday?" Joxter asked quietly.

Hodgkins stopped in his tracks and turned his head to the side "Pilot-house," he corrected.

"Is this going to be something you do everyday?"

"... I need to spend time with my nephew," Hodgkins answered "Alone," he added with emphasis and moved on.

Hodgkins gently closed the door when we entered the pilot-house and leaned against it while covering his face in shame. "This… this is my fault," he mumbled through his paws. He lowered them and paced around the room "What am I going to do? I messed up, I messed up, I messed up, I… what am I meant to do? This is my fault," Hodgkins kept repeating himself "I'm so sorry to drag you with me, I panicked, I… why did I think the Nibling thing was a good idea? Dumb, didn't have- didn't have a plan, needed something to get mind off things and it's worse. I'm just 'Samuel F… flunk-it-up Hodgkins' all over again and I don't know what- what to do. Joxter hates me, Moomin and Nibling are scared of me, you… you don't- you don't not like me, do you?"

I didn't respond.

Hodgkins stood silent and the panic in his eyes misted into remorse "I'm so sorry- I'm sorry you have to see me like this, that you have to see that I'm actually the dumbest person on this boat. I couldn't- I couldn't even make Moomin feel welcomed! Joxter keeps telling me I'm selfish and he's- he's right. If I wasn't selfish we wouldn't be here, if I hadn't looked at my dumb picture book we would be fine living in a rebuilt house instead of me trying to be something I'm not. I'm… sorry. I shouldn't… I'm… Your grandmother was right," he admitted defeatedly and sat down on the chest, speaking with a lower voice "I was never right to take care of you when I couldn't even get priorities straight."

I stood there awkwardly and looked out the window, it seemed that Joxter and Moomin were talking. Or they could be arguing, hard to tell from here, but for once I didn't really… care. In front of me was a mostly stoic uncle of mine who I've known and loved my whole life suddenly cracked under the weight of having an unhappy crew and the prospect of probably not being able to survive on this boat. I didn't know what to think at first, but in my search for a feeling all that I found was empathy, and thus feeling bad for him. Hodgkins has never been one to be anything close to upset like this, I saw him as a figure that couldn't be brought down, one that would be able to protect me at any given moment, and now he's just… sitting there… hating himself… was this how he felt when I'm like that? Probably worse, but it was a terrible feeling all the same.

I came closer to him slowly and eased into a hug, knees on the ground, and he accepted it. I suddenly felt a small damp spot on my back and Hodgkins tried to rub it out.

"This isn't… this isn't your fault, if you dare think that," he told me "It was a shamble put together with tape. Bound to fall apart."

I tightened my hug on him and with all my will I tried to speak, but all that could be heard was something akin to breaths. I wanted to talk to him so badly for once, he needed to hear something from me. If he had a one-sided conversation himself he's just going to make himself feel worse, but I still couldn't speak, I felt useless.

And he felt useless…

And we both felt useless.

Maybe we were really related in more ways than blood.

Hodgkins stroked my back in silence a few times and said with great effort to articulate "You don't remember your father, do you?"

I shook my head and he felt it, he knew it meant no.

"He loved you very much," Hodgkins said in response with a quiet, shaky voice.

That much I knew about him.

"He was odd like you. Talked about anything for long periods. Used to hop around and be happy. Suddenly became upset because he failed at something he was passionate about."

That… he hasn't told me. He didn't talk about my dad very much.

"Despite that, you made him very happy. Always loved the idea of a regular, domestic life, like you. You were his pride and joy."

I lifted my head up from the hug to look at his face, he was looking down very intensely trying to remember my father and pick his words carefully, there was almost a smile on his face if my eyes didn't deceive me.

"He liked the sun a lot, we didn't have many days without a grey sky when we grew up, clear skies were an occasion he adored. And when he had you, with your mother, you made him happy like when the sun was out. He called you 'sunshine' because of that," he loosened his hold on me "I miss him. He's not going to come back, neither is your mother. I doubt they ever will. I'm sorry…" he sniffed "I felt that you were a precious thing of my brother's that I needed to take care of because he wouldn't be around to do that, you were always going to be his child, not my child, that I could never be able to replace him and his kind words that I can't even begin to think of. He loved you so much in a way I couldn't, and measuring up to him for you was out of the question entirely," his voice started to croak from all the talking.

"That's what made me so upset to talk about him with you, I could never be like my younger brother when it came to being your father but I was too scared to give you up to someone else. Couldn't trust anyone else with you and I was probably right given everything you are, still, I feel like… I feel like… I'm definitely wrong for not thinking about you or your safety at times. Can't ever forgive myself for not checking on you after you painted your tin that night. All I want is for you to be alright and I ruined it. I'm sorry. I know you probably have it in your heart to forgive me but I really, truly am remorseful for my past actions. I just can't tell if I can stop," he paused "I'm sorry… for telling you all of this at once. Makes me a worse parent. You didn't have to know any of this, I shouldn't make you feel bad. I'm sorry."

I stared at his lowered face for what felt like a long time and then lowered my gaze. He already said a lot of these things earlier but this time it felt more personal and less in line with how he usually acted. He didn't feel like the man I knew, his face didn't even look the part. He seemed so scared and unsure on top of all the sadness and guilt that were present from his earlier monologue. It was an odd feeling, mostly negative, repulsed even, I was dumbfounded that he was still my uncle, then a small feeling of comfort arose amidst the confusion and heartbreak.

He was also like me. He was still my father's brother and thus my uncle. We were alike, and there was solidarity in that. We're all upset with ourselves one way or another, and we loved each other when we couldn't love ourselves.

Family is funny like that.

If one person always feels bad then there's a good chance at least another person in the family feels just like that.

The main difference between us was that Hodgkins couldn't let himself cry.

I held a paw up to his shoulder and he looked at the ribbon in an odd way, he seemed puzzled by it, then accepting of it. He still sniffled and was very close to crying. He started to close his eyes as his feelings subsided. The room suddenly glowed a strange shade of white and I looked out the window.

I squinted as I couldn't tell what was blocking the view outside.

… Clouds?

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