moraldoctor

[moraldoctor]

History Aesthetic: Robert Goodsir (Harry’s younger brother who went into the arctic twice in search of him and the rest of the Franklin expedition) “He was a man of inexhaustible alertness of mind, and he had stories rare and many which he told in first rate style. Often he promised to set them down, but we fear he has gone without doing so, and the world is by much the poorer, for his writing would have been of a kind not often seen now.” - Robert Goodsir’s Obituary, The British Medical Journal, January 1895.

Fancast: Anthony Boyle as Robert Goodsir

#X ROBERT. #oh ;C

[moraldoctor]

hey guys, more craziness in my life but i’m not going anywhere

#X OUT OF FROCKS.

[moraldoctor]

I’m still here, everyone! Been suuuuper low activity and will continue to be, but I’m still alive. So sorry for making you all wait for replies.

#X OUT OF FROCKS.

[moraldoctor]

Really down in the dumps today and I’m gonna be working on artwork so expect sorta spacey replies.

#X OUT OF FROCKS. #tbd

[moraldoctor]

*pokes* 👀

He starts, turning around to face the sunglasses-clad orb whomever jutted a finger into his shoulder. “I…c-can I help you?”

#X ANSWERED. #Anonymous

[moraldoctor]

I have a huge crush for a boy and he’s way out of my league. I’m desperate for literally any advice because I’m childish!

“W-Well first off...I do not believe asking for advice makes one childish...if that were the case nearly everyone would be as advice is sought for nearly every manner the human mind can conceive...And you may have to explain “league” a bit to me. Leagues of the ocean? Is he a sailor?”

#X ANSWERED. #late. :( #Anonymous

[moraldoctor]

all-silences:

The smile is a nice response. It’s… non-threatening. Friendly. It makes her feel like less of a thing, a curiosity, and more like a person again. (This is not something she has ever had to contemplate before. She and her father tended to live apart from the rest of the Netsilik, but it never affected her sense of identity. But encountering these white men, who treat her as if she is somehow lesser, for no apparent reason… it has been an education, in many ways.)

It also makes her want to smile in return, as a reassurance. She appreciates the kindness. But Harry isn’t looking at her now, so she doesn’t. Instead, she swallows more of the tea.

Then, she says “Qujanaqqutit” again, quietly. Maybe repetition, in the same sort of circumstances, will help cement for him what it means.

Harry’s soft gaze returns to her when she repeats that word again - quja...qujanaqqutit - and he explores her face briefly. That must mean thank-you of sorts. (Or perhaps he’s projecting.) He cannot think of anything else the word could mean, however, so he settles on ‘thank you’. He will ask Captain Crozier for affirmation. “You are most welcome.” He replies softly. Warmly. He wishes he could stay in this room with Silence for as long as he pleased, instead of feeling pressured under an unspoken time restraint. 

After all, she treats him with more respect than he gets from most of the other men aboard. (Even without speaking much). She doesn’t look down at him like he’s lesser, like he’s a weakling, and worst yet: like he has no idea about that which he is speaking. He’d be hard-pressed to ever stand up for himself, but yet that last one...makes him ball his small fists behind his back and clench his teeth. (And still, the only thing that comes out of his mouth is sputtering attempts to reaffirm whatever point he’s making.) It’s an unbroken cycle.

Instead, she watches him and listens as if she can, in fact, understand, and perhaps she does...not the language, but the intent. Perhaps she understands him better than he realizes. “I...have to return to my duties now.” He says, the hint of a small frown on his face. “I will return at dinner.”

#all-silences

[moraldoctor]

annastrxng:

@moraldoctor  continued from x

Beads of silvery sweat trickle down her dirtied forehead with the incredible effort. The gentleman is heavier than the large wooden barrels the brunette was accustomed to moving with Selah in the Tavern’s cellar. Never-the-less, that does not deter her from the task of rescuing the stranger from the thundering volley. Anna can not and will not be party to another preventable death friend or foe.

“I… its.. no trouble, sir.” It was a small but well-intended lie. “I’m Anna Strong. And you are?” And whilst she did not fancy making acquaintances on the battlefield, for they were often called into the arms of the Heavenly father, this one could not be avoided. She could not, with good conscience let another good man slip away.

She pauses in the moment to wipe the dripping sweat from her forehead onto her shoulder. “Where be you from?” She questions, attempting to further break the proverbial ice.

Anna wants to ask if he has been hit and if he had where. But perhaps, it was best to take the conversation in stride so as to not overwhelm her new charge.

“Harry...Goodsir,” he says, wincing slightly from the impact of a jagged stone grinding against his back. In a feeble attempt at standing he rolls his spine forward and tries to get his feet beneath him, but can’t seem to manage to remain steady. (So he acquiesces and lets Ms. Strong continue).  He sits up in the lull of activity, attempting to straighten his coat and adjust himself. “Edinburgh.” He responds mechanically, “Scotland.” Although the typical London accent may fool anyone. “And you? Are you a...local?” Harry tries once more to get to his feet - first pushing himself upward to his knees and then shifting his weight to the balls of his feet. He manages this time but his knees buckle not long after standing. “I am...a doctor back home, but this is admittedly - “ he catches himself on a stray ammunition barrel, “ - peculiar.” In his right mind he would know he’d been hit and his brain is in denial. The shock of what he’d seen on the battlefield turned his legs to gelatin and he cannot feel the injury he sustained for the time being. He has no idea. (The human brain is perhaps the most astounding thing, especially in the face of trauma.)  “I must..thank you again. I’ve no idea what has come over me.”

Battlefield Introductions: @Moraldoctor

#annastrxng #I've got to make icons >< #I'm sorry it took me so long to reply. #Tumblr refused to work for quite sometime.

[moraldoctor]

BOLD WHICH HABITS YOUR MUSE HAS

tagged by: my love @executionersghost

tagging: @jestersmuses @corsicangeneral @all-silences @toodamnloyal

nail biting | throat clearing | lying | interrupting | chewing the ends of pens | smoking | swearing | knuckle cracking | thumb sucking | muttering under their breath | talking to themselves | nose picking | binge drinking | oversleeping | snacking between meals |skipping meals | picking at skin | impulse buying | talking with their mouth full |humming/singing to themselves | chewing gum | leg jiggling | foot tapping | hair twirling | whistling | eye rolling | licking lips | sniffing | squinting | rubbing hands together | jaw clenching | gesturing while talking | putting feet up on tables | tucking hair behind ears | chewing lips | crossing arms over chest | putting hands on hips | rubbing the back of their neck | being late | procrastinating | doodling | shredding paper | peeling off bottle labels | forgetfulness | running hands through hair | overreacting | teeth grinding | nostril flaring | slouching | pacing | drumming fingers | fist clenching | pinching bridge of nose | rubbing temples | rolling shoulders

#X ABOUT. #our boy be squinting until the cows come home

[moraldoctor]

Tumblr has refused to work on my computer for the past week. Every time I would try to get on, it would freeze and only give me the prompt to kill the page.

Anyway, I’m here as much as Chrome will allow! Sorry to everyone waiting on a reply from me, IC or OOC.

#X OUT OF FROCKS.

[moraldoctor]

Soooooo…. how about an AU lads? I call it Dead Not Gone, in which the crew comes back as Ghouls and all their names are bad puns. Basic concept is that no one listened to Crozier’s warning, and now the crew is trying to prevent the new expedition from continuing their journey while also slowing realizing that because they’re Ghouls, they now have an urge to eat humans. Hickey and his crew, however, are out for power. Hickey wants to figure out what brought them back and take that magic for himself. He turns some of the new expedition into Ghouls as well, so there ends up being a 3 way fight between the two Ghoul groups and the new crew. Goodsir gets a very strong boyfriend. Collins is a straight up ghost cause his soul got ate. Not pictured, but Gibson is out for revenge on Hickey and is also a skeleton like Fitzjames. Jopson doesn’t even know he’s dead and is trying to find Crozier again. Did I mention Goodsir’s bf??? That’s Ghouls babey!!!

#X ART. #X SAVE.

[moraldoctor]

The universe is indifferent. We ought not to be.

#Thank you Hickey!! xoxo #X NOTES. #X LIKES.

[moraldoctor]

“No one is useless in this world who lightens the burdens of another.” [Charles Dickens]

My tribute to Henry Goodsir (Paul Ready) and Lady Silence (Nive Nielsen)’s deep connection in The Terror.

FACEBOOK  INSTAGRAM  TWITTER

#X KING AND LIONHEART.

[moraldoctor]

PSA: Tiny, brief semi-hiatus until June 21st. Have a lot of commissioned artwork to complete.

#X OUT OF FROCKS.

[moraldoctor]

Almost to my next hundred. Very shocking considering how small The Terror is but very appreciated. Thank you.

#X OUT OF FROCKS.

[moraldoctor]

via weheartit

#X NOTES.

[moraldoctor]

Anonymously tell me what you think of me. Don't sugarcoat it. I am just genuinely intrigued.

#X MEMES.