Cornelius Hickey (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spotsalone) wrote2025-04-11 07:04 pm
spotsalone) wrote2025-04-11 07:04 pm
Entry tags:
angelo and the hickster's post-belle arctic adventures
angelo cr chart
mutineers cr chart...
timeline:
- arrival; late july, mutineers' hill
- tent chats; early august, temporary camp
- spotting the ships; late august, terror camp
- tuunbaq attack; sept 1, ice floe camp
- boarding terror; fellas it's gay; early sept, hms terror
- dog to dog communication; early sept, forecastle
- bark bark bark; early sept, on deck
- coat! and post-tozer debrief; early sept, angelo's cabin
- 🌶️; early sept, hickey's cabin
- the dogs are unionizing(?); mid sept, cargo hold
- tozer/captain stuff, look at them having an adult conversation; mid sept, greatroom
- little rescue mission; early oct, terror bay
- post-little debrief; early oct, hickey's cabin
mid september, 1848; cargo hold
It becomes easier to breathe, generally. A week into life on the ship, Angelo finally sits with the men in the evening and allows himself to be dealt a hand of cards. A week and a day into life on the ship, Hodgson introduces him to the concept of curling tongs that are heated over the oven, and Angelo's morning routine gets a fair bit longer for it. He gets odd looks for having a morning routine at all, but a week and three days in, he notes a vague note of eau de cologne between the unpleasant odors of the command table. The next morning, Hodgson greets him properly at the basin.
There is no comfort to be had in their days of labor on the freezing cold deck of Terror, or their evenings of staring into lead-ridden tin cans. Yet, Angelo finds himself getting used to the rhythm of the misery. He learns about sailing. He sits with Hickey as he reads, letting chatter wash over him. He scrubs until his hands are raw. He gets better at card games, but not good enough. He kisses Hickey in dark corners. It never feels perfect again, but he never grows tired of the way Hickey breathes roughly into his hair either. He refuses invitations to bible study, and nearly gets into a fight over it, that Tozer only barely breaks up. He develops a grudging tolerance for Tozer as he goes. And he mentions his captain here and there, feeling out the words again.
As mid-September threatens to turn into late September, Angelo has firmly established himself as the head steward and head lieutenant alike. It does no longer raise eyebrows when he gives orders or delegates task. In what little remains of hierarchy among them, the others are too worn out to fight him for his place on the food chain.
This is what leads him to the hold with Tozer as additional muscle. The mess of materials stored in the depths of Terror's belly is largely useless to them, but eventualities can always arise. Today his goal is fabrics that can be repurposed for heat insulation. He and Tozer work quietly at moving the boxes for a bit, but then an impulse strikes Angelo and he raises his head to look over. His breath forms a cloud in front of his mouth as he speaks. ]
Captain Crozier. What did you think of him, before all this?
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Hodgson tepidly points out that this is what they set out to find three years ago. This is the last piece of the Northwest Passage, a key that will, in theory, open up significant trade routes for England. A boon for the economy. A victory for the empire. When they return to London, they will be heroes.
But there is no celebration. Hodgson mentions the Passage, and then the three of them stare in silence at the expanse of bergs stretching endlessly west. This is what they are dying for. Tozer hopes that the cursed magic of this place will seep into the merchant vessels that come after them. He hopes every drop of imported tea leaves a rancid and metallic aftertaste. Better yet, he hopes it tastes like Billy.
Tozer pretends to help with Hickey's bandages. Behind the locked door, he gives his report on the men. Angelo typically joins them, but sometimes he does not. When it's just the two of them, it almost feels like they're conspiring back at Terror Camp again. But Hickey always offers a cigarette: a treat for his loyal dog. Tozer sees this and wonders when Hickey made the move from partner to master. He takes the cigarette anyway.
Tozer wakes to a thump against the wall. A voice follows. Angelo's? It's difficult to recognize over the creaking ship... When he presses his ear to the wall, he hears a quiet conversation, but both voices sound different in a way he can't place. Is this how Hickey and Angelo speak to each other? He doesn't know what to make of it.
Tozer helps Ferrier stow Robert Thomas in the dead room. Manson and Lane are upset. Des Voeux asks what Mr. Hickey will want done with the body, and they all know what he means.
Tozer makes casual mention of how Hickey's wounds are mending, lies about bringing him his meals. Tozer convinces Manson to play assistant to Diggle in the galley, now that the cook is up and moving again. Tozer listens to Pilkington fantasize about being reinstated as marines once they return to England, as reward for finding the Passage. Tozer hauls himself up to the maintop each day and wonders if he'd even feel hitting the water.
It's routine, or something like it. A soothing monotony. As a soldier, Tozer would pride himself on his knack for strategy and leadership. He's happiest now when he doesn't have to think.
There's a vague annoyance, then, when Angelo turns their work into an opportunity for conversation. A large factor in Tozer's decision to come down here was because Angelo was the least likely to chat. He considers offering some noncommittal response just to be done with it, but... Why is Angelo asking this? He sighs and drops the crate he's carrying into their small pile. ]
Before which part?
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Before which part? How many parts are there, then? Angelo's fingers fiddle with the lock of another crate, too stiff from the cold to get it in one go. ]
Before you decided to throw in with Cornelius. Back when you still thought you'd be getting anywhere at all with this.
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I've had worse captains. Had better, too. He was a drunk and made decisions based on what most benefited himself and the Admiralty.
[ Tozer has as much respect for the Admiralty as the Admiralty has for its marines: They both fake it well. He'd run into plenty of superiors like Crozier before. He didn't like it, of course, but his opinion didn't matter so long as he could keep his men alive.
His opinion matters even less now, so sure, he'll share it if Angelo insists on asking. He watches Angelo fumbling with the lock. ]
But I didn't think much of it until he had Cornelius and Magnus lashed. He lost a lot of trust that day.
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Hickey's lashing had been a side note to him before - an unpleasant anecdote from an era completely different from his own. To hear it cited by Tozer of all people, and with such weight behind it, too... It clashes with the picture he'd conjured up in his mind. ]
How surprisingly open-minded of you. I would have expected all the men to be on Crozier's side on that matter.
[ It's how Hickey had made it sound, too. But Hickey never says more than he needs to about his own past, and even then he finds a way to leave out details.
Magnus? Magnus? It's impossible to imagine Hickey the way Angelo knows him to take an interest in pursuing a man so straight-forward. ]
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Most pretended to be, but we had to move men from Terror to Erebus the same night. All but ten chose to leave.
[ Tozer would have gone too, if not for Heather.
Then again, maybe he would've stayed anyway. He never acted on it, but he did develop a deep sympathy for Manson and Hartnell... and Hickey. It's an odd feeling now, knowing a part of him felt responsible for protecting a man like him.
Tozer considers leaving it at that, but... Well, it doesn't matter, anyway. He waves Angelo away from the lock so he can take a run at it instead. ]
It wasn't about the act itself. Every sailor knows you respect the chain of command or you get what's coming. Even so, Crozier didn't need to take it that far.
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The story doesn't add up at all. Between Hickey and Tozer, the flogging seems like two very different events. The men who thought Hickey deserved it and the men who think Crozier took it too far don't mesh into a coherent image. Angelo's brows furrow, deep wrinkles appearing on the bridge of his nose as he tries to work it out and then quickly gets too frustrated to keep trying. ]
For a brutish drunk who only commanded respect thanks to punishment and formalities, he's got quite a sway even now.
[ He knows Hodgson and Diggle talk about him sometimes, now that Diggle can speak again. They hold their tongues when he comes by, but not always soon enough. And that damned doctor... ]
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[ He knows what Angelo means, or at least he thinks he does. Now that they're back on the ships, even Tozer has to admit it's an odd and empty feeling to be without a captain. Even Hickey, acting in the role though he is, doesn't claim the title for himself. Regardless of any loyalties, the spectre of Crozier hangs heavily over them all.
But he doesn't know what the point is in bringing all of this up. ]
What is it that you're looking to learn here, lieutenant?
[ He tries to keep his tone casual, but it just comes out weary.
The lock finally comes loose after Tozer gives it a good yank. Then, he steps back so Angelo can fuss with it accordingly. He's just here to be a pack mule. ]
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You're the one who told me to integrate. Can't I make conversation?
[ It's not until his back is turned to Tozer again, rifling through the linens stored inside the crate, that he adds: ]
I wanted to know if all that lingering loyalty is worth a damn. Sounds like it's not.
[ Because he knows. He knows what it's like to pine for a Captain, to want to carry on his flame even when he is no longer there, no longer even relevant to the present situation. Seeing shadows of it in the others is disconcerting. Every negative description of Crozier is balm to the part of him that felt tense about it, but it makes the matter all the more baffling, too. ]
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Does it matter?
[ He sits down on one of the boxes while Angelo rifles through the crate. ]
Crozier's dead. We're not. Even Hodgson and Diggle can do that math for themselves.
[ Goodsir clearly couldn't, but they're rid of him now. The others would've turned a long time ago if they had intentions of turning. Most of their men are here out of cowardice, which in a situation like this, works in their favor. Their loyalty is easy to keep when sticking with the group is the only chance of survival. ]
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'Your captain is dead.'
Hickey's voice, gently reminding him as though he had deluded himself into forgetting somehow, as if that were the issue here. It plays back in Angelo's had with an infuriating clarity. The first crack in the ice that they've been foolish enough to built on. ]
... I see why Cornelius appreciates you.
[ The same pragmatism. The exact element that had drawn Angelo to Hickey in the first place - so dangerous when probing at what Angelo holds sacred and yet so reliable when it's not. ]
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Tozer is quiet for a moment as he tries to tamp that feeling down, instead focusing on solving this strange little mystery. Why does Angelo care about any of this? Crozier is well out of the picture. Has Hickey sent him here to temperature check Tozer's loyalty?
Ugh. He hates these stupid chess games. ]
He ought to. I've earned it.
[ His hand squeezes at the bandage he still wears around his palm. He wishes he had a cigarette. ]
Whatever he's told you about Crozier is probably true, but he has more reason to hate the captain than the rest of us. All of us, we're here because we didn't trust Crozier to get us out, but... It's personal for Cornelius.
[ Maybe to his detriment, really, but Tozer won't admit to thinking that. Personal or not, Crozier was a liar who had planned to abandon them all. Hickey was right about Crozier, and Crozier was right about Hickey—but at least Hickey doesn't pretend to have the moral highground. That's... something, maybe. ]
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The blank spaces in the expedition's history do not bother him as much anymore now that he's begun exchanging more words with the crew than strictly necessary for bellowing commands. At the same time, they are becoming ever more pronounced.
He turns to Tozer to shove a folded pile of cloth into his arms. ]
And it's not, for you?
[ This line of inquiry is beside the point of what he was originally asking, but he finds that he is genuinely curious. Despite their similar lines of work, Tozer is still a stranger to him in most ways. ]
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That's different.
[ The delineation feels clear in his mind, though it takes him a moment to distill it into words. He's never talked about this before. Why would he? ]
The sentence for mutiny is death. That's how it is. There wasn't anything personal about it.
[ Of course he holds it against Crozier, but it was a fair price to pay, ultimately. Tozer knew what their moves might cost them. He knew conspiring against the captain was likely a death sentence, but following Crozier would've been a death sentence, too. Hanging is quicker than starving or freezing.
Though, Crozier did force him to lie about Fairholme's sledge party. Crozier did send the marines out to square off against that creature time and time again. Is there something personal in Tozer's decision to mutiny? Maybe...
God, he doesn't want to unpack that now. Ever. It doesn't matter. Crozier is dead, and Tozer already made his choices. ]
But Cornelius set out to help us and got bit for it. Got more than twice as many lashes as Manson and Hartnell. Granted, he dug his own hole there, but...
[ Tozer hadn't heard the full story until months later, after the mutiny was already in motion. There had been plenty of rumors and whisperings among the men as to why Hickey's punishment was so much more severe, but it wasn't until Terror Camp that Tozer finally probed Manson about it.
The story gave Tozer the final push he needed to commit to Hickey's plan. It takes serious guts to stand up to a captain like that. Any other man among them would've let himself be dressed down, unfairly or not. ]
For better or worse, that man is not afraid of anything. Crozier could've used that, and he didn't.
[ He shrugs. He's... kind of forgotten his point by now, or what Angelo's question was in the first place, but surely this is enough of an answer. ]
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His signature scowl deepens as Tozer speaks, and he does not think to hide his frustration. Once again, Hickey's left out crucial details. In itself, that isn't a problem. A man is entitled to his secrets. Even as he is filled with curiosity, Angelo does not need to know where Hickey came from and who he used to be in order to follow him until the edge of the universe. It's just moments like this, where not knowing makes Angelo look like a fool in front of someone who by all rights has less claim to Hickey than he does... It's moments like this, where the tightlippedness eats at him.
Angelo hates feeling out of the loop. Information is a currency and in this place beyond society, its importance has inflated. He wants to take his irritation out on Tozer, but there is no way to do that without also revealing the sheer depth of his obliviousness.
So maybe it is a good thing, then, that the last line makes him smile despite himself. ]
Could he? Or would he have been swallowed up?
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Tozer shifts, settling the bundle of fabric on his lap. If it's an insult, it's also a good question. What might their story have looked like if Crozier hadn't turned against Hickey? Would it have changed anything, in the end? ]
He could've, yeah. He made his steward a lieutenant just before we broke away. Why not a caulker's mate?
[ It occurs to Tozer for the first time that Jopson's promotion did turn out to be a catalyst for putting their plan into motion... Was that a coincidence? Just an opportunity Hickey chose to seize? ]
But if you're asking if Cornelius would've stayed in line had Crozier made an ally of him, I haven't got an answer for you.
[ There's a beat of hesitation as Tozer weighs how much to share with Angelo. They've gotten along well enough since their last conversation, but that doesn't mean there's any real trust between them. It'd be stupid to say anything less than glowing about their fearless leader.
On the other hand, Hickey liked Tozer best when he had more bite to him. What more could they possibly do to him, anyway? ]
We've both seen how unpredictable he is. The moment I think I've got him sorted, he changes again.
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Though there's still more crates to salvage isolating material from, Angelo closes this one shut, and hops to sit on top of it. It may be too cold for human existence down here, but this isn't a conversation he wants to be having in the forecastle either.
He grins at Tozer. It's not friendly, but it's not hostile either. He's pleased that Tozer feels bewildered. ]
You could call that 'adaptable', too.
[ But winding back a little... A steward to a lieutenant, huh? ]
That steward... The one called 'Jopson', isn't that right?
[ He's heard the name a few times now. His efforts to keep the living areas and particularly the greatroom tidy appeared to invite comparison to the ghost of a man long gone from this barge. Funny, to think that this 'Jopson' would have another thing in common with Angelo - a lieutenant out of nowhere. He knows from experience how tough that standing is. ]
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I could, but I didn't. I know he was planning to sell all of us out before everything that happened with the two of you.
[ Suspects, anyway. Strongly. Hickey never outright admitted it, but even he had, no one can trust a word out of his mouth, anyway. Tozer has learned to read between the lines.
In any case, he says this with no malice attached. Holding such a thing against Hickey would be to admit a betrayal, and to admit a betrayal would be to admit that Tozer's life mattered as much to Hickey as it did to Crozier. There would be no point in any of this, then, if he was never worth anything.
So. Moving on: Tozer nods. ]
Jopson, yeah. He's not worth knowing.
[ If Angelo is prodding for information that might help him here, that's a dead end. ]
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'I did come back to you.'
That hadn't happened, not for Angelo, and not for Tozer.
At the castle, mad with grief and betrayal, Angelo hadn't thought to question their destination. Going to where one came from had felt only natural, even when that place was here - and since then, he's been treating this challenge as self-explanatory, as something they have to face and overcome because that's where they have found themselves, but...
The comment about Jopson goes almost unheard, and thus entirely ignored, because: ]
We could have gone anywhere, after the castle, did you know? He chose to come back here.
[ And Angelo had never really thought to ask why. 'The goodness of his heart' certainly won't be the answer. Maybe Tozer has a point. Maybe this is the opposite of adaptable, after all. ]
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Hickey had explained his motivations for returning here, but Tozer hadn't believed the story—because Tozer assumed he truly had no choice in the matter. But of course he must have, if Angelo is here instead of wherever he came from.
I would be sorry to see you die here. Tozer hadn't believed those words, either. Now, he wonders... ]
He hadn't mentioned that, no.
[ He's quiet for a moment, eyes dropping to the floorboards. This changes things. How, though, he isn't yet sure. His mind doesn't move as quickly these days. ]
Why? He told me he wanted to see us survive, but... There must be something bigger that he's after.
[ Even if they make it back to London, they're likely to be arrested. Trading information about the Passage might keep them out of the noose, but Hickey has campaigned against charting their route. He might've come back for the Tuunbaq, but whatever his plan had been, he'd clearly abandoned it out there on the ice...
It doesn't make sense. None of it makes sense. ]
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[ Angelo smiles thinly, but it's more for the purpose of unsettling Tozer than anything else. In actuality, Angelo remembers quite clearly that Hickey had refused to define his long term plans beyond 'truly living'. Keeping his options open and whatnot. No, Angelo is quite certain that there are no grand designs that lay beyond their journey through the arctic. Hickey wouldn't have promised to come to his world with him, if there were. This means the arctic is the point in itself, but even Angelo doesn't know how that works. ]
Though I never felt the need to ask.
[ This is an admission made more easily than not knowing about the details of the lashing. He's here for Hickey, not for the landscape. They all knew this. ]
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He doesn't like the implication that Angelo is happy to blindly follow Hickey, either. Tozer has little ground to stand on in that particular argument, but it sits heavily on him regardless. ]
You could've gone anywhere too, then. But here you are.
[ Angelo's presence makes even less sense now. If he's only here for Cornelius... What a sad thought that is. ]
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Angelo is quiet for a moment, lips pressed tightly together. Eventually, he settles on a simple response: ]
There was no place worth going.
[ It is true, too. He could have gone anywhere. With the people offering him shelter or somewhere else entirely. And he didn't, because all of those worlds were equally empty without the Captain in them, and the curiosity sparked by Hickey was the most passionate emotion his fractured mind could muster. ]
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[ He assumes the answer is no. He remembers what Angelo told him the last time they spoke, about serving under some captain in a ... Neon Zero army, or something. Liberation of space colonies, and so forth. Royal Guard. He laid all that out with a fierce pride that pierced through all the spite in his voice, and then said that path was no longer available to him.
There must be a story there, and Tozer doubts he's going to get it, but... Well, maybe they have another commonality between them. Tozer can't exactly go home, either. ]
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For a lot of his life, Angelo had thought of it as something that doesn't apply to him. Home had been his house in Globe. A clean living space, the soft smell of air freshener hanging engulfing him. A mellow tune on the radio. Papa's strong arms to pick him up and carry him to the kitchen, so he could get a spoonful of what Mama was making. 'Home' was buried under rubble many years ago, and could never be replaced.
The mansion of 'prayer' hadn't been home. It was a prison holding him hostage. The ever-changing city streets hadn't been home. The Blue Butterfly had been a place of residence, but it hadn't been home either. A shitty unsanitary bed to sleep on, nothing more.
But then... Angelo had no attachment to the mining asteroid Palau. The castle-in-the-rock they were made to live in had been clean and convenient, but when Frontal had given the order to abandon it, Angelo hadn't grieved. That hadn't been home.
And yet... A red-clad figure, broad shoulders, a reliable back. Someplace Angelo would have returned to, no matter from how far away. It's not until now that Angelo applies the word 'home' to Full Frontal, but the sentiment had been within all along.
He inhales and exhales slowly, clouds of white forming in front his his face. ]
There is no such thing anymore.
[ His hands ball into fists within his gloves. Maybe conversation was a mistake anymore. ]
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