It’s not gay if it’s on the Mississippi (11/12)
Last time on ~It’s not gay if it’s on the Mississipppi~: Bassinger dares Nicky to race him to New Orleans, although in either case Silver will be subjected to lots of abuse. Fun! He starts whipping her on his ship, but because he sucks at being a ship owner, he accidentally explodes it by going to fast. Whoops!
If you want to read the whole debacle from the get-go, start here.
Note: I’ve noticed this is a mess in mobile version, but I don’t really know how to fix it, sorry! Crossposted on tumblr.
Who was screaming? Silver wondered dazedly. She knew it wasn’t herself; she had kept all the screaming inside, where it could give Bassinger no pleasure.
And there was no way she could ever have screamed after all during a goddamn explosion, because she’s just that special.
We get a solid scene of Silver growing aware of her surroundings and realising what must have happened. Bassinger is currently MIA, and the railing has been ripped from the floor, so that she can pick up some broken glass to cut herself free.
Who was that screaming? It was a chorus of voices, men, women, and children in an agony of terror. There was something she should remember, but she couldn’t seem to think.
OH OF COURSE. THE PASSENGERS EX MACHINA WERE JUST LOCKED IN ON THE BOAT SO SILVER WOULD HAVE TO RESCUE THEM ON TOP OF JUST. YOU KNOW. SAVING HERSELF.
The passengers! Bassinger had said he had locked the doors of the staterooms. They were prisoners caught in the fire and death below. She had no time to saw through the ropes.
The fires from the lanterns … The flames could burn through the ropes far quicker than she could cut through them with pieces of glass.
Faster but more painful. There were several burns on her wrists and forearms before she managed to rid herself of the ropes. She wouldn’t think about it; the burns hurt no more than the stripes on her back. Then she was on her feet, running toward the stairs.
What in the fresh torture porn hell- she should barely be conscious after the whipping, let alone being able to do all this. Yes, she’s got strong will power, I get it, but come onnnn.
She also drags the corpse of the evil sailor out of the way like nbd. You’d be surprised what you can do with a split open, bleeding back!
Silver realises that without the keys, there’s only so much she can do, namely nothing, and instead she makes way to the boiler deck to pick up tools. The deck has taken on water so it’s no longer, well, boiling, but some sautéed corpses are there.
She opened her eyes and forced herself to look around. Her sick horror would not save the people locked in those cabins.
Well, that’s the spirit at least!
Then she was running up the steps, down the deck, and into the saloon. She inserted the crowbar into the doorjamb of the first door. “It will only be a moment. I have something now.”
It took so long, she thought in despair. Why wasn’t she stronger?
YOU’RE HALF DEAD. You had a two week trip of danger, not even a night’s rest, got fucked in a carriage and then beaten to an inch of your life just in the last hour. Jfc.
A young woman wearing a flowered pink peignoir and carrying a small child ran out into the saloon as tears ran down her cheeks. “We’re all going to die!” she sobbed, clutching the child desperately.
“No.” Silver was already working on the next door. “Help me!”
“But we’re going to die.”
I mean, yes, eventually. Memento mori, Vanitas, all that.
But this wouldn’t be Silver if her “pls get it together” appeal wasn’t steeped in some good ol’ misogyny, after all!
“You may be stupid enough to die here, but I intend to live,” Silver said impatiently.
Nicholas makes his appearance, his beauty slightly marred by the fact that, right, the boat is on fucking fire.
Then he was beside her, his face blackened by smoke, his white shirt grimy and stained. “You’re very dirty,” she said vaguely.
Priorities!
He stood there, looking at her, an odd radiance shining beneath the grime. “You’re dirty too.” His index finger reached out to gently touch her sooty cheek. “I thought you were dead in a ditch.”
I’m sure the dirt and soot will do wonders for her wound healing (•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑ why not give her a hearty pat on the back, while you’re at it.
He broke the lock and moved to the last door. “You’ve done your part. You can’t help here. Why the hell don’t you get off the boat?”
Two men dressed only in their long underwear rushed by her and out of the saloon.
I swear to God, im not making all of the gay subtext in this book up!
“I can’t leave,” she said simply. “Not while you’re still here.” It all seemed very clear, even through the haze of pain and exhaustion enveloping her. She could not leave when Nicholas stayed. She could not live if Nicholas died.
This door breaking business was a matter of like, two minutes. No difference (you and me.mp3) but drama, I guess. You gotta.
Then the last door was open and Nicholas was running toward her, grabbing her by the arm and pushing her from the saloon. A towheaded boy of thirteen years or so rushed by them toward the small boat at the rear of the deck.
What a random description of a random character that won’t become relevant a page later, I’m sure.
“Are you all right?” Nicholas asked quietly. “I’d carry you, but I don’t want to touch your back.”
Her back. Oh, yes, Bassinger had been whipping her. It all seemed like such a long time ago. The pain was now coursing not only in her back but in every muscle of her body.
“He wanted me to scream. He kept saying it over and over.”
“Lord.” Nicholas’s voice was hoarse, ragged. “For God’s sake, Silver, shut up. You’re killing me.”
They Board Valentin’s lifeboat along with the kid from before. That’s it. That’s the extent of his presence in this novel. Just there to, idk, stress Silver being the saviour of kids or something. Mikhail is on another lifeboat, saving people.
He grabbed an oar and he and Valentin began to row with powerful steady strokes away from the riverboat.
This is a Valya appreciation blog 👏👏👏
“Savron!”
The cry was a shriek of terror and Nicholas turned in his seat to look back at the Mary L. The red glare of the fire on the hurricane deck was mirrored on the waters. A dark head was bobbing on the wavelets spread by the slowly sinking riverboat. “Savron, help me!”
Bassinger!
Bassinger was clinging to one of the supports separating the hurricane deck from the boiler deck, a rivulet of blood running down his face from a cut on the temple. “Come back! I can’t swim!”
How unfortunate. Well, dasvidanya~
Nicholas gazed at him, his face as hard and stone cold as the men who had died on the Mary L this night.
Considering the incident was like 10 minutes ago and most of them died in a steam explosion, I estimate it at a good 37 degrees Celcius then.
His voice was savage as he called back over his shoulder. “Scream, you son of a bitch!”
Bassinger screamed, a piercing wail of terror in the night.
A moment later the Mary L slid slowly, sluggishly, beneath the waters of the Mississippi.
Although the ship did not deserve this tbh :(
Now, after this whole ordeal, what should the next thing be? Focusing on Silver getting medical attention? Her getting support firm the local best boys? Nah, of course it’s more fawning about how hot Nicky is:
Nicholas was sitting in the tufted olive wing chair beside the bed, the soft glow of the lamplight casting an aura of radiance about his golden head. He was wearing dark blue trousers and his white linen shirt was immaculate. He was immaculate, Silver thought with resentment. It was unfair that he look this faultlessly elegant when she felt so unkempt.
That little bit of torture and almost dying is no excuse to not look like a cover girl, but not in a normal girl way, because she’s not like other girls™! To quote the late Lagerfeld, if you wear track pants outside the gym, you’ve already given up on your lfie. Get your shit together, Silver.
Nicky explains that he’s kept her sedated on morphine for three days, because otherwise, she’d never have rested.
Realistically enough, some of the rescued people have since died from their burns, and Nicky has to physically keep Silver from jumping up and try to help. She’s touched that he spent the entire time by her side, and he picks up the question regarding his cousin again.
“I want to know about what happened there. You told Valentin you had never met a count before, but that couldn’t have been true. You had to have known André Marzonoff.”
“André Marzonoff? Well, I didn’t actually know him,” she said slowly.
“And I forgot he was a count. It was a long time ago.”
Nicholas looked away from her. “What do you mean, you didn’t know him? You watched him die.
That of course means you know him intimately. You can’t attend a public execution unless you and the victim are in a first name basis, little known fact!
She tells him that in fact, she and her family were too late in trying to halt the execution.
“It’s a huge oak tree on the edge of Hell’s Bluff. Elspeth found out that the vigilantes were going to lynch Marzonoff and she was very upset. She told me they had become friends and, if he had stolen a horse, it was because he didn’t understand that it was wrong.” Silver shook her head.
“He must have been very stupid.”
“He wasn’t particularly clever.” Nicholas stopped to clear his throat.
“He was pretty dumb and I never liked him that much, but he was worth me coming to America solely to hunt down every person who may have watched his lynching. Russian family relationships just are like that.”
She only now remembers her aunt said that the dumb count mentioned Nicholas name before dying. Nicky finally tells her about the letter he received, accusing her uncle of the murder.
“Durbin!” Silver’s eyes widened in surprise and then glittered with anger. “Why, that yellow bastard.”
“You know the gentleman?”
“Dominic shot his son. It was a fair fight, but Durbin put a price on his head anyway
As was his right welcome to the west!
Originally posted by uber52
Also, maybe it’s just my western vocab failing me, but “yellow bastard” sounds suspiciously racist.
“If you recall, I had no acquaintance with Durbin or any of you. I had to rely on the Randall Investigative Agency and they-”
“Are fools,” Silver said flatly.
“Exactly.”
“But you’re a fool, too, for not asking me before this. I could have told you what happened.”
“I believe you swore you wouldn’t tell me anything,” Nicholas said wearily. “And I would scarcely have trusted any story you’d seen fit to regale me with when I first met you. You told me yourself you would only lie to me.”
See, im the end, it’s all your fault, Silver /beams
She tells him where her aunt and uncle are, but he says he knows all he wanted to now. After all, he didn’t care about his cousin that much in the first place. Visit his gravesite? Nah, too much effort. Even though they have a moment, Silver announces that she’ll have to get to the circus asap to save Etaine.
“She thinks he wants her dead and she may be right. Monteith is capable of anything. Where are my clothes?”
“That bit of scarlet gauze you were wearing is in rags and I haven’t procured any replacements yet.” Nicholas’s eyes twinkled. “You could always try the bed curtains again.”
“This isn’t funny. Etaine needs me.”
Nicholas: but what about sex :(
He placed his fingers on her lips to silence her. “I’m not laughing,” he said softly. “You say the child is in danger? That’s not reasonable if the man is her father, Silver.”
Says the man who hates his mother for de fact murdering his father by proxy and who was whipped and buried alive by his uncle. FAMILY OVER EVERYTHING
Silver explains she wanted to ask her family to send her money so that she could buy Etaine off Monteith.
He stood up. “You want the child?”
“Of course I want her. I just told you that I’ve made her a promise. Now, get me something to wear.”
He shook his head. “You stay where you are. The doctor said you should spend at least another week in bed. I have to oversee the moving of more burned patients to the hospital, but I’ll send Valentin to get your Etaine.” He turned toward the door. “Don’t worry, I’ll give Monteith enough money to be sure he releases the girl to you.”
What is a kid but a commodity, amirite
Also, if you send Valentin, he might get some lions on top to sweeten the deal, nothing like sending a con artist to haggle ☆ヽ(◡‿◡✿)
She’s suspicious of his sudden helpfulness, and he explains that when he saw her being whipped, he swore he’d let her go. A paragon of righteousness!
He nodded, his lips twisting in a mirthless smile. “Oh, yes, I’m capable of feeling guilt … and compassion … and many other emotions besides lust and anger and a desire for revenge.
I’ve read two novels with you as a protagonist, and I’m calling bullshit here, because no, you do not! Sounds fake and not ok!!
Of course she would forget him. The tears running down her cheeks were due only to temporary physical weakness, not sadness.
Only weak girls cry over relationship troubles, and she’s not like them, dammit!
She must get on with her life, for there was no place in Nicholas’s for her that she would accept.
She wiped her damp cheeks against the pillow. She must plan her future, for she thought it quite possible that she would have Nicholas’s child. If this was true, she must take measures to protect that child.
[[record scratch]]
We went from “oh, my period is a few days late” to “oh, I’m def. pregnant, woe is me” in the span of three (3) days, most of which she was unconscious, plus that was a lot of strain on her body that might spike a miscarriage or mess with the cycle, but eh we only have like 12 pages left so we gotta set up the sequel I guess!
See you next time when we wrap up this trainwreck of a book!
