franciscrozierofficial

[franciscrozierofficial]

my blogbook is full of nonsense and bottlewash. Will be starting anew soon.

[franciscrozierofficial]

no more laudanum before bed. the dreams

[franciscrozierofficial]

*Crozier lets out a heavy sigh, exasperated. More with the reality that he doesn’t know the question’s answer than the question itself— he knows he should soften his tone, he knows he shouldn’t take out his frustrations on one of his few standing lieutenants, but—*

For Christsake, George, we still don’t know shit. Hell, one of them could have lead it for all we know.

*For a second, the snow falls silently around them, and the only sound is crunching footfalls on the ice. Then Crozier sighs again.*

…but I don’t think that’s the case. I think Mr. Tozer was leading the mutineers— I sent him a message that we come in peace, so that they don’t shoot our brains out on sight.

We still don’t know who’s mutinied of their own free will yet. besides Goodsir.

We don’t know much of anything, out here.

@ltgeorgehodgson. On deck. Now. We're moving out.

*Crozier has lashed several armfuls of medical supplies to his back in a makeshift sack, and hefts one sledge himself, the strap over his shoulder, while ABs James "Jim" Filler and Samuel Plotte are adjusting their straps two other sledges. They're small, just made for one man each. Crozier is hoping they'll be enough*

*With Goodsir's disappearance, he's in a rotten mood, any excitement he felt at his own wedding plans quickly snuffed out by the prospect of more blood on his hands.*

*He glares moodily up at the railing, as if by sheer force of will he can make Hodgson appear.*

[franciscrozierofficial]

*Crozier glances sideways at Hodgson. He's still leery to treat the man with too much kindness— after the lashing Crozier considered Hodgson forgiven for the business with his bed, but.... he's gathered that the wreckage of Dundy's emotional state since then is owed to one Lieutenant George Hodgson. He feels both strangely protective of Dundy and bitter towards Hodgson, though he's doing his best to put it all behind him and focus on the mission.*

*After a minute, Crozier grunts.*

No, no one's come back yet.

Irving, Des Voeux, Gore, and Sergeant Tozer are all out there. Some other men too. Goodsir.

*He pauses, as though he's about to say something else. He darts his eyes over at Hodgson. He thinks better of it, and continues trudging ahead in silence.*

@ltgeorgehodgson. On deck. Now. We're moving out.

*Crozier has lashed several armfuls of medical supplies to his back in a makeshift sack, and hefts one sledge himself, the strap over his shoulder, while ABs James "Jim" Filler and Samuel Plotte are adjusting their straps two other sledges. They're small, just made for one man each. Crozier is hoping they'll be enough*

*With Goodsir's disappearance, he's in a rotten mood, any excitement he felt at his own wedding plans quickly snuffed out by the prospect of more blood on his hands.*

*He glares moodily up at the railing, as if by sheer force of will he can make Hodgson appear.*

[franciscrozierofficial]

*Crozier nods, sharply, and hands Hodgson the second strap to his sledge so that they might pull together. It's weighed down only with essentials— blankets, emergency food, water... It'll be heavier on the way back, if they find anyone hurt.*

Ready, Lieutenant.

*He starts to walk and whistles sharp through his teeth at the ABs, who begin plodding ahead, following the officers' lead. Though his scarf and muffler are pulled tight around his face, Crozier still lowers his voice to speak to the lieutenant.*

.....Mr. Goodsir has abandoned ship. Went off after the mutineers himself, likely. Fuckin' eejit. ...If we're lucky, we'll find him 'fore he turns blue and his bits start fallin' off.

@ltgeorgehodgson. On deck. Now. We're moving out.

*Crozier has lashed several armfuls of medical supplies to his back in a makeshift sack, and hefts one sledge himself, the strap over his shoulder, while ABs James "Jim" Filler and Samuel Plotte are adjusting their straps two other sledges. They're small, just made for one man each. Crozier is hoping they'll be enough*

*With Goodsir's disappearance, he's in a rotten mood, any excitement he felt at his own wedding plans quickly snuffed out by the prospect of more blood on his hands.*

*He glares moodily up at the railing, as if by sheer force of will he can make Hodgson appear.*

[franciscrozierofficial]

If it makes you feel any better, you can lash Goodsir after you get him back.

You can have Irving lash him.

Not on the table. Unfortunately, Goodsir is a medical man and with so many injured, we cannot make due without him.

His punishment is yet to be decided. That is, if he's still alive out there and hasn't frozen his goddamn balls off, that blasted stupid

...What I can tell you, though, is that Mr. Goodsir has lost my trust and my esteem.

He is a damn fool. I am sorry I did not steer him right when I had the chance.

[franciscrozierofficial]

@ltgeorgehodgson. On deck. Now. We're moving out.

*Crozier has lashed several armfuls of medical supplies to his back in a makeshift sack, and hefts one sledge himself, the strap over his shoulder, while ABs James "Jim" Filler and Samuel Plotte are adjusting their straps two other sledges. They're small, just made for one man each. Crozier is hoping they'll be enough*

*With Goodsir's disappearance, he's in a rotten mood, any excitement he felt at his own wedding plans quickly snuffed out by the prospect of more blood on his hands.*

*He glares moodily up at the railing, as if by sheer force of will he can make Hodgson appear.*

[franciscrozierofficial]

….THAT GODDAMNED CUM-GARGLING SON OF A FUCK

HOW IS SO FUCKING DIFFICULT TO JSUT STAY PUT YOU LYING LITTLE CUNTLICKING SHIT EATER—

@erebusanatomist48 reply to my message as soon as possible. We're readying the search party now.

What medical supplies do we need to bring one or two sledges

Respond quickly

[franciscrozierofficial]

…

@erebusanatomist48 reply to my message as soon as possible. We're readying the search party now.

What medical supplies do we need to bring one or two sledges

Respond quickly

[franciscrozierofficial]

Goodsir.

.....where are you.

@erebusanatomist48 reply to my message as soon as possible. We're readying the search party now.

What medical supplies do we need to bring one or two sledges

Respond quickly

[franciscrozierofficial]

@erebusanatomist48 reply to my message as soon as possible. We're readying the search party now.

What medical supplies do we need to bring one or two sledges

Respond quickly

[franciscrozierofficial]

*Crozier pauses in the hallway and turns back, irritation flickering plain as the aurora across his features.*

Lieutenant, I have given the men at least four hours to rest since the attack. I had to bargain for even that small rest. ...If we want to have a chance of catching up to the marine party within the day, we must leave as soon as possible. Especially if they have wounded among them.

*He pauses, for a moment, and studies his second. The man's face is pinched with worry, and for a moment, Crozier feels himself soften. He feels his age acutely. Edward looks... so young.*

*When he speaks again, his voice has gentled, though there's still iron behind the words.*

I've already alerted Lt. Hodgson to be ready within the hour. Once Dr. Goodsir responds with a list of necessary supplies, I'll find two able-bodied men to help pull.

...You'll be in charge of Terror until I return, Edward. Do right by her.

*with that, Crozier touches his fingers to his cap, almost saluting, and continues down the hallway, his mind already moved on, onto the ice.*

@nedlittlest raps twice at the door to the great room, and prays that he is not disturbing the Captain. After a brief moment, and no sounds from within, he speaks.

It’s Lieutenant Little, sir. Mister—

He stops himself, casting a glance back to where @thomas-jopson stands behind him.

There’s someone here who wishes to speak with you.

*Crozier had been brooding over a map of King Williamland, purposefully ignoring the knock at the door. When @nedlittlest speaks however, he groans loudly and scrubs a hand over his face.*

For Chrissake, Lieutenant, can't you handle the bloke yourself?

*He glances mournfully at the map. Back fish river is securely out of reach. There is another way, but... Crozier closes his eyes. His head aches. Despite his brief rest, he is still so... so tired.*

*Crozier thinks about the liquor cabinet, and feels a hot twist of shame like a knife to the belly. He raises his voice again.*

I'm... I have matters to attend to, lieutenant. I do not wish to be disturbed.

[franciscrozierofficial]

*Crozier stiffens as Thomas’ arms curl around him. He still loves him. Thomas still loves him, even knowing that he’s a lost cause, a stubborn mule of a man with a heart that keeps on breaking— Thomas loves him.*

*Crozier squeezes his eyes shut to choke back a sob.*

I… I need you too, Thomas.

*Shakily, slowly, he leans into the touch. He rests his weather-worn hands atop Thomas’ as they’re crossed over his midsection, and leans his head to bump it softly against his lover’s crown.*

My love… my very heart, you…

*A secret wedding. Private. Intimate. They’ll be married, at last, entwined body and soul in the eyes of God and the universe. Crozier will never have to be alone again.*

*His voice cracks as he spins around, half-laughing, and scoops Thomas into a gentle embrace— still very aware of his injuries.*

Yes, Thomas. I’ll marry you tonight.

*Crozier pulls back only a second to look adoringly at his future husband, stress and fear still etched into his features.*

I… have to go now, though, my dear. The mutineers, they— there have been reports some of their ranks are not there willingly, and wounded beyond that. With luck, we’ll bringing those men back with us.

With luck, I’ll be back before nightfall. I’ll be back for you, Thomas.

*He kisses him, sweetly, deeply, forgetting for a moment his earlier drink in his overwhelming need to express love to his husband. Crozier smiles as he pulls away, backing towards the door to gather supplies and meet the others on the deck.*

I’ll be back. I love you.

@nedlittlest raps twice at the door to the great room, and prays that he is not disturbing the Captain. After a brief moment, and no sounds from within, he speaks.

It’s Lieutenant Little, sir. Mister—

He stops himself, casting a glance back to where @thomas-jopson stands behind him.

There’s someone here who wishes to speak with you.

*Crozier had been brooding over a map of King Williamland, purposefully ignoring the knock at the door. When @nedlittlest speaks however, he groans loudly and scrubs a hand over his face.*

For Chrissake, Lieutenant, can't you handle the bloke yourself?

*He glances mournfully at the map. Back fish river is securely out of reach. There is another way, but... Crozier closes his eyes. His head aches. Despite his brief rest, he is still so... so tired.*

*Crozier thinks about the liquor cabinet, and feels a hot twist of shame like a knife to the belly. He raises his voice again.*

I'm... I have matters to attend to, lieutenant. I do not wish to be disturbed.

[franciscrozierofficial]

*Crozier feels as though he's been punched. All the air is knocked out of him, and for a moment, he simply sways, unbreathing, in the belly of Terror. He's hurt Thomas. He's hurting him. He always knew he would, always knew this one miracle of his life would end with tragedy, the great Crozier cock-up, but... he knowing something is not accepting it.*

*He feels his face crumple into deep, anguished despair as he watches tears drip down Thomas' lovely face.*

My stór, I... I never wanted to hurt you. I... You... It.. pains me, Thomas, to see you like this. Worse, knowing I'm to blame. That I'm to blame for... everything.

*He chuckles wetly. He can feel himself being torn between his duty to his crew and his duty to his heart. He knows, ultimately, which one he will choose. He knows his ex-steward knows, too.*

I'm the worst kind of lover, Thomas. ...I shouldn't have dragged you down with me. I shouldn't have let you fall for a lost cause

*With an air of melancholy, he pauses in putting on his gloves and coat, to press his lips to Thomas' cheek. Selfishly. Selfishly, he clings to the hope that this will not be their last touch. As he pulls away, he tries to smile— as though his heart is not shattering inside his chest.*

We're both so damn stubborn.

*He whispers this, like it's a goodbye. He turns and walks away, and pulls out his device to send messages to the rescue group, as though he can see any of the printed words through the tears he's biting back.*

*He can't break down. He can't be soft. He can't be tender. He has lives to save. He has a Captain's duty to fulfill.*

@nedlittlest raps twice at the door to the great room, and prays that he is not disturbing the Captain. After a brief moment, and no sounds from within, he speaks.

It’s Lieutenant Little, sir. Mister—

He stops himself, casting a glance back to where @thomas-jopson stands behind him.

There’s someone here who wishes to speak with you.

*Crozier had been brooding over a map of King Williamland, purposefully ignoring the knock at the door. When @nedlittlest speaks however, he groans loudly and scrubs a hand over his face.*

For Chrissake, Lieutenant, can't you handle the bloke yourself?

*He glances mournfully at the map. Back fish river is securely out of reach. There is another way, but... Crozier closes his eyes. His head aches. Despite his brief rest, he is still so... so tired.*

*Crozier thinks about the liquor cabinet, and feels a hot twist of shame like a knife to the belly. He raises his voice again.*

I'm... I have matters to attend to, lieutenant. I do not wish to be disturbed.

[franciscrozierofficial]

*Completely ignoring Edward, Crozier raises his hands placatingly towards @thomas-jopson, as if to embrace him, hold him, keep him safe... but they hesitate and hang in the air. Useless.*

*When he speaks, Crozier's voice is rough with emotion.*

Thomas... you... Fitzjeames was the...

*his eyes go steely, then soft, then somewhere tortured between. He's overwhelmed with the need to comfort the other man, but little idea of how to do it.*

*The last sentences ("I know what you do when I am not around") chill him to the bone, and he takes a small step backward. He tries to breathe lightly, so that Thomas might not smell the drops of rum that have already long-since been washed away by spit.*

I am looking for a way out, Thomas. And you're right, we— we all have to take risks, but— not unnecessary ones. You shouldn't have come, Tom.

*A pained, heartbroken look flits across his face, before he pulls himself together. A mask slides over his features.*

...I don't know what you're supposed to be saving me from, Mr. Jopson, but there are others who need saving far more. They are the priority. Not—

*NOT ME. He cuts himself off with a grunt and begins to move, as if making for the door. He's already grabbing his overcoat, as if preparing for a walk. He keeps his head down, eyes low. He doesn't want Thomas to see any of the turmoil inside him.*

@nedlittlest raps twice at the door to the great room, and prays that he is not disturbing the Captain. After a brief moment, and no sounds from within, he speaks.

It’s Lieutenant Little, sir. Mister—

He stops himself, casting a glance back to where @thomas-jopson stands behind him.

There’s someone here who wishes to speak with you.

*Crozier had been brooding over a map of King Williamland, purposefully ignoring the knock at the door. When @nedlittlest speaks however, he groans loudly and scrubs a hand over his face.*

For Chrissake, Lieutenant, can't you handle the bloke yourself?

*He glances mournfully at the map. Back fish river is securely out of reach. There is another way, but... Crozier closes his eyes. His head aches. Despite his brief rest, he is still so... so tired.*

*Crozier thinks about the liquor cabinet, and feels a hot twist of shame like a knife to the belly. He raises his voice again.*

I'm... I have matters to attend to, lieutenant. I do not wish to be disturbed.

[franciscrozierofficial]

*Crozier shivers involuntarily at the proximity. His heart aches in his chest as he drinks in the sight of his dear Thomas. He takes in his wild eyes, his... his ruffled hair.. ....his lips tinted blue from the cold, the way he can barely keep himself upright and the bandages still—*

*Crozier feels his brow lowering into a grim, angry expression but he cannot stop it. He speaks through gritted teeth. He's entirely forgot @nedlittlest was in the room.*

...I wanted you safe, Thomas.

And... you were safe aboard Erebus—- y- did you venture out ALONE? My— dear, you c- could have— the bear, the cold, the— the bloody mutiny, Thomas, I told you not to! I ordered you not to!

*He has gotten to his feet and looks down his nose at his lover. He's taken him by the wrist, a tighter grip than he would normally use. There's anger in his eyes, but melancholy as well. Fear, too. So, so much fear. He feels acutely- he could have lost him tonight.*

@nedlittlest raps twice at the door to the great room, and prays that he is not disturbing the Captain. After a brief moment, and no sounds from within, he speaks.

It’s Lieutenant Little, sir. Mister—

He stops himself, casting a glance back to where @thomas-jopson stands behind him.

There’s someone here who wishes to speak with you.

*Crozier had been brooding over a map of King Williamland, purposefully ignoring the knock at the door. When @nedlittlest speaks however, he groans loudly and scrubs a hand over his face.*

For Chrissake, Lieutenant, can't you handle the bloke yourself?

*He glances mournfully at the map. Back fish river is securely out of reach. There is another way, but... Crozier closes his eyes. His head aches. Despite his brief rest, he is still so... so tired.*

*Crozier thinks about the liquor cabinet, and feels a hot twist of shame like a knife to the belly. He raises his voice again.*

I'm... I have matters to attend to, lieutenant. I do not wish to be disturbed.

[franciscrozierofficial]

*Crozier glares murderous at the door as it opens, glares harder at Little behind it.*

Well? What? What in the hell could be so—

*he sees a shadow move behind Little. He sees a flash of bright eyes. The air in his throat catches, and Crozier abruptly stops speaking. @thomas-jopson is here. For some strange reason, Crozier's blood has gone cold.*

@nedlittlest raps twice at the door to the great room, and prays that he is not disturbing the Captain. After a brief moment, and no sounds from within, he speaks.

It’s Lieutenant Little, sir. Mister—

He stops himself, casting a glance back to where @thomas-jopson stands behind him.

There’s someone here who wishes to speak with you.

*Crozier had been brooding over a map of King Williamland, purposefully ignoring the knock at the door. When @nedlittlest speaks however, he groans loudly and scrubs a hand over his face.*

For Chrissake, Lieutenant, can't you handle the bloke yourself?

*He glances mournfully at the map. Back fish river is securely out of reach. There is another way, but... Crozier closes his eyes. His head aches. Despite his brief rest, he is still so... so tired.*

*Crozier thinks about the liquor cabinet, and feels a hot twist of shame like a knife to the belly. He raises his voice again.*

I'm... I have matters to attend to, lieutenant. I do not wish to be disturbed.