angelo and the hickster's post-belle arctic adventures

[spotsalone]

mutineers:

• Sgt. Solomon Tozer, marine (T)
  
• Magnus Manson, AB (T)
  
• Lt. George Hodgson, lieutenant (T)
  
• "Pvt." Thomas Armitage, gunroom steward (T) - mauled by the Tuunbaq
  
• Charles Des Voeux, mate (E)
  
• Pvt. James Daly, marine (T) - mauled by the Tuunbaq
  
• Pvt. William Pilkington, marine (E)
  
• John Diggle, cook (T)
  
• Edmund Hoar, captain's steward (E) - throw into the water by the Tuunbaq
  
• Harry Goodsir, surgeon (E) - escaped with Silna after the Tuunbaq attack
  
• THE STUPID FOX

boat boys:

• John Lane, boatswain (T)
  
• Thomas Terry, boatswain (E)
  
• Robert Thomas, mate (T)
  
• James Rigden, coxswain (E)
  
• John Sullivan, captain of the maintop (E)
  
• Thomas Work, AB (T)
  
• Robert Ferrier, AB (T)
  
• and perhaps eventually lt. little depending on how much of our minds we lose along the way

angelo 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; early sept, hms terror

Comments

[spotsalone]

[ Hickey wears a scowl like a cat forced into a bath as Angelo and Tozer shift him around. He hates this feeling of weakness, of needing anything from them, but he allows it to happen. A mortal man would care that his wounds were dressed properly. There's infection to stave off as well as the cold, and even minor injuries struggle to heal in this place. Tozer still keeps his hand wrapped even though the incident with the cannon is months behind them now. Hickey needs to make a show of taking this seriously. With how exhausted he is and how little immortality does to lessen the pain, it's not difficult to fake it.

Still, his pride has limits. He shrugs Tozer off with a grunt as he sits up fully—but has to catch himself on the gunwale as the boat heaves over a wave and when the marine steadies him again, his grip less negotiable. His shivers miserably the entire time he's worked on, but Angelo comes for him with that blanket and he snatches it away before he's thoroughly swaddled, muttering a weak protest that he's not a child. He'll wrap it around his shoulders on his own, even if the motion is accompanied by a lot of wincing.

The blanket is nice, and if he were in a better mood, he'd likely find all of Angelo's fussing nice, as well. But as it stands, he's too rattled to appreciate the company. If he had his way, he'd fix his damn case to spare himself the trouble, then curl up in the back of the boat to sleep until they arrive at the ships.

The razorlike throbbing in his chest is not the worst pain he's felt, but it's a constant reminder of yet another rejection and a foolish mistake. The Tuunbaq in the place beyond the mirrors wasn't real. It was just a cruel trick played by Yoonhee, preying on a private fear no one had any business knowing. Yet Hickey is more upset than he should be by the betrayal. It's not as if he was planning to abandon his new path for whatever the Tuunbaq might have offered him, anyway.

It's not as if he ever intended to return to England with the expedition either, but it was nice to imagine a future where Crozier's faith in him gave him the break he's been searching for. The recognition of his worth was enough, exactly as it was.

But Crozier turned on him the moment he put that worth to use. The Tuunbaq... he doesn't understand what he did to earn its hatred. The explanation he thought of on the ice, his shift away from relying on the creature, no longer feels like the answer. He wishes it did. Instead, he's left with the disquieting suspicion that he's been reading the wrong narrative since the beginning.

The captain doesn't see you at all.

He glowers at Angelo's question. It's almost a welcomed distraction, but it just piles on one more thing for Hickey to stew over. Goodsir. That bastard. ]

Yes.

[ He settles back against the boat's frame, just for a moment. He's in no condition to row, but like hell he's going to lie there pathetically while the others do all the work. Someone needs to man the rudder. It's one thing to shirk manual labor simply because he doesn't want to do it, and it's another to be incapable. ]

A petty act of vengeance. All he's accomplished is to ensure his own death.

[ He says it loudly enough for the others to hear. Make no mistake who did this to them. ]

[cleansheets]

[ There's a murmur through their ranks at that. Angelo glances over his shoulder for a moment and sees Hodgson's mouth pressing itself into a thin line. Pilkington is staring at his hands. Manson is looking at Hickey, as if searching for something. De Veoux is scoffing, which is expected of De Veoux. Only Tozer's expression remains stony and unreadable.

Goodsir must have been well-liked. It's the first time that thought truly occurs to Angelo. He'd only met the doctor as a hermit in the medical tent, completely apart from all the others. He hadn't cared to think question the matter, to imagine the years of expedition before things took a dramatic turn for the worse. Who had these people been, then? Who had Hickey been among them? It's impossible to imagine.

After the strange unity with which they all moved in a crisis, there's a sense of distance returning now. Angelo is not part of this group, not the way everyone else is. Whatever Goodsir's betrayal means to them, Angelo cannot relate.

Fortunately, that doesn't mean he's any less angry for it. Angelo pushes away the distant haze of not belonging and clicks his tongue. ]

Fucking bastard. [ He lowers his voice again after that. The insult was meant to be overheard. ] Though his own death was likely the point of it.

[ It's what Angelo would have done, in his position. Take them all out with him. Dying without venting your hatred is simply too unsatisfying.

He leans in to Hickey closer, settling with him against the outer wall of the lifeboat. Time for a damage report. There's more to say, personal things, but all eyes are on them now. ]

We've lost a lot of supplies, but we hadn't unpacked all of our food. There's a few crates of tins left in the back.

[spotsalone]

[ Hickey is unfazed by the group's reaction. He may not have predicted the doctor would be this bold, but the sabotage is hardly unexpected. Goodsir has hated him for months. Really, it's a wonder that it took him so long to act on that disdain. That the others could not see this is not his concern. ]

The point was to kill us. All of us. He must've spotted the Tuunbaq on our heels and devised this plot to weaken us for its attack.

[ He looks around at his men as he says it. He's in no mood to play inspiring leader, but he knows he must capitalize on this moment. They've overcome a common enemy together and escaped with their lives against abysmal odds. Morale is in short supply and they'll need the boost to push through this last leg of their journey.

Luckily, Angelo helps with that as well, pointing out their remaining store of food. The tins are not ideal, but it's enough to last for now. ]

Des Voeux, how much longer until we reach the ships?

[ But it's Hodgson that answers: "If I may," he starts, voice hesitant, "I would suggest we abandon any supplies we can afford to go without. A lighter load will quicken our pace."

"The tents." Tozer has managed to prop a gasping Diggle up to get some water into him. "We can go for broke. Row in shifts."

"That could save us half a day, maybe more," Des Voeux says.

Hickey and Hodgson regard each other for a moment. Tozer gets a glance, as well. This is an interesting development. He gives Hodgson a nod. ]

Save one and toss the others then, lieutenant.

[ The men get to work, and Hickey turns to Angelo. ]

Do what you can for Mr. Diggle.

[ Their eyes catch for an instant, but Hickey shoves himself off the gunwale before the exchange can become some charged thing between them. He doesn't want to be near Angelo anymore, not with their full group in such close proximity. Not when he already has a full load of uncomfortable thoughts to process. His upset is a solo venture.

But he doesn't think of taking the cigarette case back. The emptiness of his pocket makes him uneasy, his hand darting to check for its usual contents on reflex, but despite the momentary pangs of anxiety, he feels safer with the case in Angelo's possession.

He moves to the back of the boat, where he can operate the steering oar without agitating his wounds too much—and thus has an excuse to keep to himself for the time being. He wedges the oar against the ice floe next to them to steady their tiny vessel while the other men heave the tents over the side. ]