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
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[ Should Little survive, he'll likely prove useful in other ways, as well. He's an ineffective leader that will be easy to manipulate, especially when he owes them his life, but he too should be a wealth of information when it comes to sailing and navigation. He ran the ship in Crozier's absence last winter, and should thus be privy to the goings-ons therein... Prying that information out of him should not be difficult, even just for curiosity's sake. Not to mention he'll be able to tell them just what happened to their captain. Why wasn't his corpse among—
Hickey's delve into strategy is interrupted as Angelo nestles himself into the blanket. The action strikes him as odd, as does Angelo's halfhearted commentary. Hickey expected him to have more to say about Little, especially where Tozer is concerned. The sergeant's loyalty has been a regular topic of conversation between them.
He drops his spent cigarette into the cup on the desk and tips his head curiously, studying Angelo for clues. It's been a taxing day in many ways, but they've had taxing days before... even if today's discovery was more horrifying than most. ]
What's wrong?
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I'm just exhausted.
[ For what it's worth, he doesn't sound like he is making excuses. And just by looking at him, it's difficult to doubt the truth of his statement. His condition has been declining subtly but steadily since they arrived in the arctic. His once unblemished skin is rougher now and his lips are chapped. He's thinner, too, and even though he sleeps a decent amount every night, the circles under his eyes won't seem to fully fade anymore. Though the shade of his hair and the purple of his irises still mark him as an outsider, he's blending in with the crew in more ways than not now. ]
It's noisy outside. I'd rather be here.
[ He'd rather be with Hickey than eat from poison tins when the smell of the leg in the fireplace is still lingering in his nose. It's still possible to ruin your appetite even while starving, it turns out. ]
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[ Hickey gets up from the chair to join Angelo on the bed. Angelo has nestled himself into the corner, and between the annoying gate at the edge and the beams arching out from the wall, Hickey can't quite get next to him. Instead, he tugs at the blanket, beckoning Angelo to scoot over so he can wrap him up in his arms.
It's clear that these past months in the arctic have taken their toll on Angelo, but Hickey attributes the bulk of that deterioration to the rough living conditions. Living on the ship is far easier on their bodies than hauling across land, but little else has changed. The weather, the food, the stress... Hickey will never call attention to it, but he suspects these factors affect Angelo more than the others simply because he is newer to this reality. His body has known suffering, but the rest of the men are more accustomed to it. It's that saying about frogs and boiling water, albeit applied for a different context.
However, this newness is also to Angelo's advantage. Everyone else, Hickey included, spent years living off the tins, and it hasn't killed them yet. The illnesses affecting the others, whether it be poison or scurvy, have had much longer to take hold. Angelo will be spared from those horrors, at least. ]
We'll let the others handle the hunting trips from now on. There's little reason for us to go out again.
[ Truthfully, there wasn't a reason for them to go this time, either. Hickey just wanted to get off of the ship for a bit. ]
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Probably for the better. I've never had to hunt game before.
[ An admission he'd only make in private - none can know how inadequate he truly is for their situation, but Hickey is already more than aware of every single one of his shortcomings. There is no need for posturing here. Not for much of it, anyway. If he's truthful, Angelo isn't sure if he could physically handle another march like that. ]
... I feel like I can still smell that dreadful pile of corpses.
[ Though Hickey's insistent scent of tobacco does a better job drowning it out than any of his perfume attempts had. ]
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And then Angelo brings up the camp. Damn. Once they established that Angelo was not here to gripe about Little, Hickey was looking forward to a more reliable distraction than paging through log books. He sighs, benignly irritated, though he takes pains to keep that irritation out of his voice. He would be happy to provide comfort if he wasn't in a hurry to move on from the issue for his own sake. ]
That's just your mind playing tricks. Give it a day and try not to think about it.
[ The stench of death does linger, though. It's one of the first details his mind dredges up too when he allows his thoughts to drift back to this morning. ]
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Yeah, I know. It's not the first time I've dealt with it, just... Ugh, it's gross.
[ It dredged up unpleasant memories from a time when he was too small to conceptualize any of what happened. A glimpse into his distant past and a glimpse into their immediate future, should they not procure more supplies. What a grisly combination.
Angelo glances up at Hickey. The angle is awkward but he isn't willing to break their connection to pull back and really get a look at him. ]
Is that why you've got this room smelling like an ashtray?
[ He shouldn't pry. It's never gone well. But even though Hickey's always enjoyed his cigarettes, he's not usually a chainsmoker. ]
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Yes, well, Solomon was right, wasn't he? That could have been us, had we gone along with Crozier like good little sailors.
[ It's a haunting thought. Hickey suspects Tozer's upset is largely due to the "what if" of it all, the knowledge of the near miss. Following his orders like a loyal marine would have led him to a sad, miserable death. Of course he finds that upsetting. Although he was quick to join the mutiny and never showed signs of hesitation, the idea of defecting is still new to him. Tozer is not a man who handles shake-ups in his worldview with ease.
Hickey has always known that he cannot trust any system to treat him as more than a commodity. His trust in Crozier was easily broken because it was never freely given; he never blindly assumed Crozier would ensure his survival. What bothers him about the camp is its inevitability. Tozer credits Hickey's leadership with escaping that fate, but Hickey knows now that they were destined to die regardless. By the time they started the march south, their men were too weak and their resources were too few for any hope of survival.
Without Ish's intervention, all of them would be dead. Even Angelo. No amount of ingenuity or manipulation or sheer will to survive would have made a difference. Hickey was dead from the moment he set foot on Terror—and he would have been dead if he hadn't, too. Where does that leave him? How far back would he have to travel to escape his own sad, miserable death?
So, sure, they can talk about the bloody camp. On the surface, it's just another horror in a long line of them. ]
It's one thing to imagine such a death. It's another to see it firsthand.
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Mhm. I thought I was used to it.
[ But that was then, in a different life and with a different kind of death. An overdose, a beating... Starvation was part of the mix back then as well, but not like this. The inevitable end in the gutter that Angelo had avoided through the grace of his Captain... It's been replaced by a creeping dread that he is building towards something even more bleak. ]
Guess you never really are, even when that end's been rendered nothing but a hypothetical for you.
[ On most days, it is easy to forget that the body he is holding is merely a conduit for a soul that resides elsewhere, but in moments like this it comes starkly into focus. Many of then will die here, perhaps including Angelo himself, but Hickey never could. ]
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I wouldn't say that. A hypothetical is a reality that will never come to be. I may have avoided this particular end for myself, but it's still part of the story.
[ Their current circumstances are a strange transition for him in that way. If his survival had always been guaranteed through immortality, perhaps the camp would be easier to ignore. The chapter of his mortality has not been fully closed yet, and won't be until they're far away from this place. He may no longer be threatened with death, but the arctic still has its claws in him, doesn't it?
Especially now that there's more at stake than just his own survival. Angelo is not immune to the dangers here, not by a long shot. His future in this world may never have included the potential for ending up like those corpses at the camp, but now that future is much more likely for him than for Hickey.
He hugs Angelo to him a little more tightly. ]
It's not as if I had any control over Ish's intervention, either.
[ The sentiment escapes him before he realizes he's traded one uncomfortable topic for another. Their adventure today has worn him out too, leaving his mind dull and distracted. Annoying, but at least the misstep is with Angelo and not someone he'd be more reticent with. ]
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And he prolonged Hickey's in exactly the same way.
Angelo had never realized - not when Hickey told him about the perils of the expedition back at the castle, not when he agreed to come to the arctic with him and not even when they were marching the grueling miles back towards the ships. A risk of death, yes, even a great one, but... ]
... we'd both have wound up frozen bodies never to be found.
[ This was certainty. Of course it was. The Tuunbaq would not have saved Hickey. They know that now. Angelo saw it happen, and it had been an illusion but it had also been a vision.
They'd have been two unfortunate lowlifes preserved in ice, yet forever unknown.
What a thing to have in common. And what a stomach-turning prospect. His own near-death still fills his mind with a kind of longing, but Hickey among those wretched figures at the camp... He didn't think it was possible to feel any sicker about the memory. ]
I still want to rip Ish to shreds for all of it, but his timing was decent on that one.
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He'll get what's coming to him eventually. His timing is the only thing he's good for—although... I'm still cross with him for ratting me out over the frog toy, but I would have gotten away with it otherwise...
[ Which means he would not have been executed, which means he would not have earned immortality through death. Ugh. ]
Let's not give him that much credit. Perhaps instead let's consider it a reminder that the best path forward may not look it in the moment.
[ Hickey's execution was certainly a low point for him, but in reality, it was the best thing that could have happened. The same goes for Angelo and being deprived of death. Hickey knows better than to ask about it again, but surely someday Angelo will admit that he's glad for the change of course. ]