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annecoulmanross · 4 years

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A Neko Case Song for (not quite) Every Character from The Terror

In the long tradition of “songs for nearly every character from the terror” that began with Vanishing Act by the brilliant @saintssebastian and continued with my Ballroom Thieves insanity, today I give you – Neko Case songs, feat. spectacular selections for Crozier, Silna, and Hickey by the lovely @paramaline who also generously encouraged my song choices and decisions to include the women “at the edges” of the terror-story, including those like Esther Blanky, whom I’ve come to know through @thomasblanky and Sarah Hartnell, whom I’ve met through @radiojamming as well as my own beloved Louisa Capper Coningham (Fitz’s Aunt Louisa) and Lady Ann(e) Ross.

Franklin – Polar Nettles

The force field round her frosty hips Whose shape recalls the wicked spade That buried him

Crozier – Middle Cyclone

Can’t scrape together quite enough To ride the bus to the outskirts Of the fact that I need love

Fitzjames – Winnie

I'm here to tell you a story, I'm here to tell you a lie My poetry's weak and I know it I was drop dead sad and crazy sometimes So I fucked off, wayward cannon to the sea

Blanky – Never Turn Your Back on Mother Earth

I'll admit I was unfaithful From now I'll be more faithful Never turn your back on mother earth

Esther Blanky – A Widow’s Toast

Specters move like pilot flames Their widows toast at St. Angel Better times collide with now

Bridgens – I Missed the Point

And I'm sorry, I'm so sorry That I missed the point of this pageantry But I'm grateful that you love me

Peglar – Stinging Velvet

Sing please, rock me to sleep Quiet as a canyon Up under heaven's eaves

Silna – Hell-On

But you'll not be my master, you’re barely my guest You don't have permission to take any pictures Be careful of the natural world

Goodsir – Magpie to the Morning

I'm on a top secret mission A Cousteau expedition To find a diamond at the bottom of the drain

David Young – Maybe Sparrow

Maybe sparrow, you should wait You'll never pass beyond the gate If you don't hear my warning

Gibson – Dirty Knife

And the blood runs crazy with giant strides And the woodsman failed to breech those fangs in time So they dragged him through the underbrush Wearing three winter coats and a dirty knife

Hickey – People Got a Lotta Nerve

But I'm a man man man man man man man eater But still you're surprised when I eat ya

Jopson – The Next Time You Say “Forever”

The next time you say "forever," I will punch you in your face Just because you don't believe it doesn't mean I didn't mean it You never know when I’ll show you the never

Little – I Wish I Was the Moon

How will you know if you found me at last? 'Cause I'll be the one, be the one, be the one With my heart in my lap – I'm so tired, I'm so tired

Hodgson – Ragtime

The sound that lures me, it says, "Don't you hurry Don't you worry, kid, we'll be seeing you We'll see you when you're ready."

Irving – Afraid

Confuse your hunger Capture the fake Banish the faceless Reward your grace

Gore – Hold On, Hold On

That echo chorus lied to me with its "Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on"

Le Vesconte – Guided By Wire

In life you learn from someone else That you can only trust yourself And sometimes that is still too much to want

Fairholme – Don’t Forget Me

In the wintertime keep your feet warm But keep your clothes on and don't forget me Keep your memories

T. Hartnell – I’m An Animal

And yes, there are things that I'm still so afraid of But my courage is roaring like the sound of the sun 'Cause it's vain about its mane and will reveal them to no one

J. Hartnell – Lion’s Jaws

Now they meddling sky and my snowy eye Sees a different night The night I fell into the lion's jaws

Sarah Hartnell (née Friar), mother of John and Thomas – Halls of Sarah

A childless widow of a nation You cry like guns across the water Yet we expect you to bring springtime, it isn't fair Searchlights wither in your hair

Sgt. Tozer – At Last

I can say that I've lived here in honor and danger But I'm just an animal and cannot explain a life Down this chain of days, I wished to stay among my people Relation now means nothing, having chosen so defined

Des Voeux – Deep Red Bells

Where does this mean world cast its cold eye? Who's left to suffer long about you? Does your soul cast about like an old paper bag Past empty lots and early graves?

Dr. MacDonald – Twist the Knife

Tenderly, tenderly, please take my breath from me Into the fountain and up from the graves Tearfully, joyfully, burn what is left of me

Dr. Stanley – Gumball Blue

But you come back for me Sometimes only for your own peace of mind Sometimes where there's smoke There's just a smoke machine, honey

Collins – Bad Luck

Are you tired of things going right? Things going wrong? Tired of trying to make everyone happy?

Orren – My Uncle’s Navy

In the tarpit sea memories wear thick coats The kind that pull you down But in refusing to drown You're choked into the shape of a sailor

Morfin – City Swans

I try to slip the marching clock But centipedes invade my thoughts Without free will, I heel and I go

J.C. Ross – Fox Confessor Brings the Flood

Will I ever see you again? Will there be no one above me to put my faith in? I flooded my sleeves as I drove home again

Ann(e) Ross – Oracle of the Maritimes

I planned a dream inside a dream with your uncle I asked him how to tell you how much I could love you ‘Cause I’ve never been so sure of anything

Fitzjames’s Aunt Louisa – Last Lion of Albion

Last lion of Albion Last tiger of Tasmania The last she-wolf to suckle Rome

Lady Franklin – Calling Cards

Singing, "We'll all be together Even when we're not together With our arms around each other With our faith still in each other"

S. Cracroft – Where Did I Leave That Fire

A chill ran through me and I grabbed on tight That was when I left my body for good And I shook off all the strength I'd earned

#neko case #the terror #the terror amc #terrorposting

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baixueagain · 4 years

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I started watching The Terror, stopped halfway through, and started reading the book instead. Now I’ve read about 70% of the book, and so I’m rewatching the show from the beginning. I’ll stop when I get to about the same place where I left off. Mainly I just realised that I wanted to read the book first and didn’t want the show to spoil things.

I’ve really enjoyed the book so far; it’s gripping, and the amount of detail and research that went into it is incredible. The writing isn’t great, but it’s readable enough. I’d say that Dan Simmons is similar to GRRM in that both can tell a good yarn but are mediocre as far as it comes to the actual craft of writing.

Anyway. Some changes the show makes are for the better, some...ehh we’ll see.

In the book Hickey is one of the main antagonists and a complete scumbag, but in the show he’s far more charming and actually shows some humanity and kindness. Sophia Cracroft and Lady Silence both actually have personalities in the show, too, and the show quite literally gives Lady Silence back her voice, which does away with a lot of the sexist overtones of the novel. And yes, obviously the novel is written from the point of view of 19th-century British men, so it was never meant to be super progressive, but a lot of the writing choices that Simmons made for Lady Silence (who is entirely his original character) were...ehhhhhhh skeevy, to say the least. In the book, Sophia is also depicted as being a wicked seductress who was just using Crozier, whereas in the show (so far) it’s suggested that she does actually return his feelings but still can’t marry him because of her obligations to her family.

I’m kind of upset that so far Irving has been flattened out as a character and turned into just Religious Homophobic Bigot when in the book he does actually have depth and nuance. He is somewhat homophobic in the book because of the social mores of the time, but he’s not going around hitting people with scripture or anything. In the book he’s an incredibly warm, caring person who falls in love with Lady Silence and actively tries to learn more about her and her culture. It’s actually rather sweet, and it makes his death actually quite devastating. So I hope he gets more depth in the show than just the bible-thumper who is out to get Hickey.

The book does do a pretty good job of handling queerness, overall - better than I expected, anyway. I was a little worried when in the book Hickey at first seems to be the only queer character, but he doesn’t stay the only one for long. In the book, he uses sex to get leverage on other people and manipulate them, whereas in the show he seems a bit more sincere about things. Bridgens and Peglar are queer in the book, too - they’re exes but still good friends - so it was nice to see them interact in the second episode, even if it was brief. I’m hoping the show states more explicitly that they’re queer later on.

James FitzJames is a much more stern and serious character in the show than in the book, which is fine, but it does kind of dull the book’s effect of him going from being a boyish, jovial wunderkind into a barely-there shadow. We’ll see how it plays out, though.

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ferylcheryl · 4 years

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The third and final chapter of The Proceedings at Hand is completed!

It was furnace-hot beneath Fitzjames’ skirts; I could smell the musk of his body—the chill staleness of cloth out of long storage—the doughy bloom of arousal—and, most captivatingly, an underlying drift of... violet and vetiver, I believe—some scented toiletry hoarded, meted out for occasions of intimacy. It was invigorating to scent something new, as accustomed as I was to a tote set of odors: black tea, old sweat, the scorching lilt of whiskey. Mildew in the boards of the ship, ice—which you would not think to have a scent of its own, being simply hardened water, but it does. It’s a sort of tinny, scrubbed sweetness, discernible only in the absence of other smells. I kept turning my head this way and that, breathing deeply as I kissed and licked my way around his thighs and hips, orbiting teasingly near—but not touching—that which he kept asking, pleading with me, to touch.

Equally invigorating was his—well, his bareness. He had been expertly shaven! The image of my bookish co-steward Bridgens performing such a task was a comical one; I reasoned then that Crozier must have been the man for this task if for no other reason than that Harry Peglar would not have taken kindly to such a task falling to his John. The result, regardless of who wielded the blade, was that his skin was most silken and almost feverish hot to the touch. Idly, as though by mistake, I took hold of him with one hand. I stroked him loosely, and in the same moment did seize with a sharp nip at the sleek dip where thigh joins pelvis.

“Oh, yes,” he said from above, his voice muffled, but also, “more.”

“Which is it, sir?” I queried as I emerged from beneath his skirts. I did not wish to be hurried, for I have always been hurried in these matters. In alley ways, malodorous rented rooms, beneath docks—carried out in hushed and fumbling haste, it had always been, in the dark and at odd hours, as though we conspired not at pleasure but at treason. I feared then, there in the captain’s berth, no footfall on the stair, no swaying beam from a bobbie’s lantern. No—I would not be rushed, and I (politely) told him so.

(Keep Reading at the link)

#the terror fic #thomas jopson #francis crozier #james fitzjames

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thaliatimsh · 5 years

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if its alright! wrt the 'directors commentary' asks, honestly anything /Anything/ for 'imperfect life', oof :0

ONE DVD COMMENTARY TRACK COMING UP BECAUSE HELL YES you may ask me about this one. GOD I HOPE THIS READ MORE WORKS OR I’M GONNA DIE OF SHAME. For those of you who’ve missed my pleas: imperfect life is on AO3 here. read it or i cry.

Okay I reblogged that post with not much of an idea about what I’d actually have to say but imperfect life is at least at the forefront of my mind lol

First things first I’d had an idea for a fic about Hodgson At Mutineer Camp that i wanted to write floating around my head for a while that was. I suppose centred on the sheer Betrayal of GIBSON YOU CHANGED MY SHEETS FOR THREE YEARS? WHAT THE FUCK? And as I did more research abt both of them and found that they’d been on ships together & that it was likely that either Hodgson or Peglar got Gibson his job? Fuckin wrote itself, especially seeing as in show-canon Bridgens is the Peglar Papers Steward.

Anyway I’ve said this before to everyone who’ll listen but I will say it again: I think Hodgson is misinterpreted & underappreciated by a lot of the fandom & it makes me SAD and also ANGRY.

Like: I once saw someone say that he was “mad about Jopson’s promotion, so fuck that guy”? NO. He MISSED Jopson’s promotion! He would have gotten a KICK out of Jopson’s promotion! You BASTARDS! Hickey picks on him SPECIFICALLY because he’s out of the loop! I’ll kill you!

Ham jokes? I’m coming to your HOUSE. man’s as ‘obsessed with ham’ as any self-respecting naval officer starving to death in the arctic

Then there’s the “Who is this?” being taken as some kind of a-okay for cannibalism instead of a guy who saw someone shot dead just last night and then spent the morning burying said dead'un being literally scared out of his mind by a greasy lil rat with a knife and Tozer blocking the tent flap with a fuckign RIFLE. DAMN YOU ALL.

Do I think he’s a complete FOOL? YES. Do I think he ever had any kind of malicious intent? NO. Okay anyway I’m gonna talk a bit more abt that later so let me go back to the next part lmao

So Part 2 of the George Henry Hodgson Saga was then to figure out why he had to go stay with his aunts - this ALSO came pretty straight to me, for whatever reason. I think it might have started off as just his parents pleasure jaunt, but as I was thinking about later scenes with Jimmy Fitzjas I came up with a thing abt - Im not gonna find the reference now but in the battersby book there’s a bit abt William Coningham going to take the waters at bath or whatever for Weak Lungs which OBVIOUSLY made me think of my favourite comsumptive Of All Time Fryderyk Franciszek Chopin & the countryside retreats he & his sister Emilia took for their symptoms as teenagers (and unforch Emilia died of tuberculosis aged just 14… rip)

ANYWAY I had some VAGUE idea that George n Fitz could have some kind of Passing Discussion abt Brothers With Shite Lungs that obviously never came to fruition but. Lol whatever, it gave me a reason for why My Parents Sent Me To Stay With Two Aunts.

UH. Right, so then like the third leg for this to stand on was that Fitzjames and Hodgson had ALSO served together & Fitzjames had: 1. recommended Hodgson to the expedition 2: mentioned him TWICE in his Voyage of the Cornwallis 3. Mentioned him in his letters to the Coninghams from disko bay (one of the only Terrors mentioned - there’s a passage abt Fitzjames going to look at the icebergs with Fairholme and Hodgson. ANYWAY; show-canon Hodgson has a sense of humour and I really think he tried to make the men see him as approachable, at least compared to the other Terror officers and that reminds me a lot of how the historical Fitzjames seemed from mystery man! Seeing as they KNew each other I think it’s not unfair to suggest that he’s trying to emulate an older and more successful officer! He wants to succeed! He wants to have fun and to be loved by The Men!

My friend said something very Prescient abt this to me recently which was that THere are a lot of similarities between Hodgson & Fitzjames and it’s kinda like. Fitzjames is the Ideal, and Hodgson just misses the mark. He’s the average man’s James Fitzjames and because he doesn’t know about Fitzjames’ surplus of political luck that only makes him feel more of a failure. Fitzjames gets a bullet that gets him compared to Lord Nelson, Hodgson gets in the gazette as ‘slightly wounded’. Even their monologues! Fitzjames gives a soul-baring confessional he’s never talked about before to someone he respects and he gets! Affirmation! Gets told that he’s a good man and brave and loved! Hodgson gives a soul-baring confessional he’s never talked about before to someone he respects and gets! FUCK ALL! A MAN SITS IN SILENCE! He has to fucking! Walk out alone after all of that! FUCK!!!

Okay so this whole fic just sat in my brain for probably like six months until I literally sat up in bed because I worked out the last piece of the puzzle

(Drac has an epiphany, July 4th 2019, colourised)

Which was, of course, 'Hodgson went to boarding school’ - which is what all of this ends up hanging off of! Boarding school culture! The younger years are servants for the upper years, who in turn are responsible for the younger students! including discipline etc so like… if a younger year brought something up to their “fag-master” it’d be sorted by them and maybe prefects, without getting schoolmasters etc involved.

WHICH is why George doesn’t tell the captains about what happens to Neptune, because he’s out here trying to be a good fag master and get it sorted himself! His own fag master fucked him over by getting the schoolmasters involved when they oughtn’t have been! He’s not about to be Archibald Harrington-Thurlowe! He’s not okaying the mutiny! He’s trying to minimise the damage *on his own* like a fuckin idiot!

IF YOU CALL HODGSON A MUTINEER I’LL COME TO YOUR HOUSE N MAKE YOU GET LOST AND ABANDONED AND END UP EATING YOUR BOOT BEFORE GETTING 'RESCUED’ BY THE SAME GREASY RAT WHO LITERALLY MURDERED YOUR PAL AND TRICKED YOU INTO SLAUGHTERING CIVILIANS! I’LL. I’M NOT HAPPY.

I’m just basically so upset about 'one perfect moment in a whole imperfect life’ being a childhood memory that he was taught to see as so shameful to compare it to cannibalism under duress? FUCK.

A whole imperfect life in GENERAL has me fucked up! He just kept trying and kept just missing what he was aiming for! I mean. That’s relateable. Not one part of a life turning out as you expected or planned? ME!!!! Your achievements add up to nothing and no matter how hard you try you end up a footnote! FUCK offfff

I had some difficulty with the religious angle for a while because. hm. okay. To start with the religious angle IN-CANON is just.... not correct. Catholics don't let you drink the blood. The church of england DOES... and that's what most of these men ARE. The Papist Speech as a whole was cobbled together from one of Crozier's ~Visions~ in the book - and it's important in that case that Crozier is IRISH... Poor analogy, writers! Putting aside that he was also... SEVEN... maybe he was an unusually tall seven-year old, people assumed he'd had first communion/been baptised & no one wanted to cause a fuss... I mean the guy has lead poisoning so it's fair to mis-remember but... YEAH. Messy, which is a shame because it's a powerful monologue very well-delivered, shame it's complete fucking nonsense 😂 (not to be like... SMH Americans but... smh Americans...)

Anyway, as I wrote it? that’s me. I wasn’t raised religious - my dad’s an old-school small-town Continental Catholic, my mum’s agnostic but raised CofE (but *her* dad was raised Jewish (also continental) during WW2), I think they couldn’t be fucked with the drama, I never went to church or anything and as a kid when we had prayers at school assembly I didn’t know what I was doing!!!! I felt bad because I couldn’t fathom God as a concept!!! I still can’t! But as a kid it’s like. I don’t understand and on account of that I’m afraid I’m going to Hell. tfw you write what you know.

ALSO there were definitely a couple of times where I wrote G H Hodgson as played by B W Wooster and I will not be taking constructive criticism on that.

ANYWAY My brain has kindof turned itself off now but I guess this is just. My own personal backstory to this jhsgfjhs. I actually probably have about 400x more to say but it’s fully evaporated. thank you SO MUCH for asking me though. i die.

#i tag #george hodgson #bc i love him #also #long post #that's my baby officer!#insane character essay tag

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fvuper · 4 years

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Terror restaurant!AU

Last month I thought that the actor from “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” is very similar to Tobias Menzies (James Fitzjames). And I thought that crossover of “The Terror” and “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” is the best crossover ever. In total, I came to a restaurant!AU because every fandom should have a restaurant!AU or coffeeshop!AU. (Guys, if there’s something familiar on AO3 or somewhere else I’m sorry my English language skill is low for reading English fanfics and find similarities). I share this with you because I love “The Terror” fandom of his friendliness because all we love our cold boys.

I apologize in advance to those who do not like OFC. This is my disease.

Many characters are not on the list because I didn’t know what roles to assign to them. And yes, there’s book and series canon.

This’s not fanfic, but I hope you like this.

Enjoy reading!

(grammarly app tells me that there are a lot of hard-to-read sentences and grammar and punctuation errors, I hope they will not hurt you)

Restaurant “The Terror”:

Francis Crozier - restaurant owner

Edward Little - chef

George Hodgson - sous-chef

Cornelius Hickey - cook

Magnus Manson - cook/butcher

Billy Gibbson - pastry-cook; have you seen his fingers?

John Irving - baker (secretly in love with Silna)

Henry Peglar - baker (John Bridgens’s former student)

Thomas Jopson - hall manager, barista, Crozier assistant and his son (he took mother’s last name); they father-son relationships make me feel good

Amelia Little (Hunter)(OFC) - waitress (Edward Little's ex-wife)

Thomas Evans - waiter, student

Restaurant “The Erebus”:

Sir John Franklin - restaurant owner

James Fitzjames - restaurant manager

Grahan Gore - chef

Henry Le Vesconte - sous-chef

John Bridgens - baker

Other characters:

Harry Goodsir, David McDonald, Stephan Stanley, John Peddy - doctors from the nearest hospital

Silna/Lady Silence (workers of both restaurants call her that cos she speaks very little) - veterinarian, Goodsir good friend (she knows that John Irving in love with her)

Tuunbaq - Silna dog (Samoyed)

Thomas Blanky - Crozie old friend (lost his leg after hunting; often goes to “The Terror”, chatting with Francis, and Crozie always pours free coffee to him)

Thomas Honey and Henry Collins - repairmen in both restaurants

Richard Aylmore - janitor; cos fuck him

Solomon Tozer and other marines - workers at a security company that serving both restaurants

And some random dialogues and pieces:

One time, Tuunbaq didn’t like something in Blanky, and he bit his leg. His wooden leg.

Francis Crozier's favourite coffee for a morning (and all day) is Irish. Only Jopson knows how to make correct Irish coffee for his father: “Less coffee, more whiskey”.

Sophia: “Francis, you already know that I can’t answer on your proposal. You need to look around and see, that someone is a long time watching on you.”

Francis: “Who?”

Sophia: “Manager of “The Erebus”.“

Francis: “FITZJAMES?... but, Sophia... I’m not...“

Sophia: “If it’s hard to accept, ask advice from Bridgens and Peglar. Or from Little and Jopson.“

Francis: “wait...WHAT?“

In his whole life, Crozier worked in a large number of restaurants and cafes, including Ross family and Sir John restaurants. He made the way from waiter to barmen and barista, and finally all positions at the kitchen. Francis had a wealth of life experience but didn't have proper education, therefore, many did not take him seriously. At one point, Crozier was tired of this and decided to open his own restaurant. He called it “The Terror” (because down on the street there was Franklin restaurant “The Erebus” and he thought that this would be funny and symbolically). In “The Terror” they served coffee, fresh bakery and from lunch to dinner cooked Irish cuisine.

Crozier seemed that his restaurant was the most perfect place in the world: high ceilings, green walls with wood panels, tiled floor with geometric patterns. In the corners and on the walls on the fence were growing curly green plants. All furniture (wooden tables and chairs, lamps, leather sofas) got to him like from the 19th century. On a second-floor, Francis had a small apartment.

Fitzjames invited Crozie for a date first. To Chinese restaurant.

Crozier never allowed Harry Peglar to write the menu on a scoreboard because he had lousy handwriting. Amelia didn’t write for the same reason, even if she came before everyone else. Usually, the menu wrote Irving, Jopson or Little.

Little knew Crozie from the last working place. They become good friends, so when Francis offered him a job as a chef in his restaurant, he agreed. Edward also took his wife with him from the old restaurant where they worked together to Crozie restaurant.

Actually, Jopson wasn’t the main reason for their divorce. For real they just themselves didn’t know why they got married once. Rather, Thomas was a good reason to break up.

Amelia: “It’s Jopson, I’m right?”

Little: “What are you talking about?”

Amelia: “That you fall in love with him like a little boy. Often near somewhere to him. Put off the biggest pieces of meat from stew for him at dinner, because it seems to you that he isn’t eating up. And it’s all in your wife's presence.”

Little: “And what you want to say about this?”

Amelia: “That when we gonna divorce, we will stay as friends. I hope so. Because you are a good man, Edward. But be careful with Jopson, cos when Crozier finds out that you’re dating, he will unscrew your head for any wrongdoing.”

After that conversation, Edward exhaled freely. He doesn't want to cheat on his wife, and he was glad that Amelia was so sensible woman. After two weeks they divorced. But didn’t stop communicating. On the contrary, now Little had a person whom he had to disguise his romantic troubles because of such relationships were new for him.

Sometimes, when Silna came to “The Terror”, and Irving had some free minute, he whips away her coffee from Jopson’s hands and tried with toothpick write on coffee foam “good day” or draw a smile. Come out clumsily - Jopson was in pain. He doesn't try to offer him his help, because John thanked that he needs to do this by himself. Jopson knew that one day his heart won’t stand more this barbaric mockery on his perfect coffee foam and he will just write Irving's phone number on lady Silence cup.

The Terror stuff never called Crozier “boss” or ”chief”, but called him “captain”. It seemed silly for him, but he wasn’t against.

Once Franklin invited Crozier for lunch in “The Erebus” to introduce to someone. That was James Fitzjames, and Sir John introduced him as a new restaurant manager because Franklin wanted to rest from work. They were three together at the farthest table. Francis had a strong feeling that he saw Fitzjames before or heard about him. Much later, at his apartment, Crozier remembers that he saw James at last year’s meeting of restaurateurs. They didn’t talk, but Francis could swear that the man looked at him all evening.

At some point, Crozier and Fitzjames started arguing, and when dispute got to the dead-end, they stared at each other. For a long indecent time. Only sir Franklin’s phrase ended this uncomfortable (only for him) competition: “Right in front of my salad?”.

Peglar and Bridgens often meet at neutral territory and exchange with recipes. And not only recipes.

#The Terror #francis crozier #james fitzjames #edward little #thomas jopson #sir john franklin #the terror amc #fanfic #my english is so bad #hope this won't hurt #yes there's fitzier #and edward with thomas #good ex-wife #that's not a tragedy it's a comedy my friend

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diydumpsterdiving · 4 years

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eyes emoji?

[Hi anon!! Here’s another The Terror fic (Bridgens/Peglar). @onetobeamup knows exactly what this is. The google doc for this is currently titled “teh sad bridgens peglar fic” (I kept the typo lol).]

His head is decidedly not clearing up, which is how he walks right into someone who’s just left the book shop around the corner. They both stumble as the man drops his purchase, wrapped up in paper. John’s leaning down to pick it up, finally looking at the man and saying, “I’m sor-” He stops.

Harry Peglar is staring down at him, wide-eyed.

John stares back. Blinks, then continues to stare. Harry’s eyelashes flutter against his cheeks when he blinks, and the beard suits him well. The thought comes, unbidden, that Harry is even handsomer than he was three years, four months, and nineteen days ago.

(John is not proud that he’s kept count.)

At some point, Harry blinks, then bends down, snatching his book from the ground. The spell is broken; John realizes where he is, how he’s still bent over as he stares at the way the sunlight makes Harry’s hair shine and John has no right to think that way, not now. He abruptly stands straight and takes a step back to look Harry in the eyes. (Hazel-brown and vibrant when the light hits them just so-)

John looks somewhere over Harry’s shoulder.

“Mr. Bridgens,” says Harry, voice calm and John hurts. His face betrays nothing to anyone walking by. But John can see it- the way he clenches his jaw, his left hand balled into a fist at his side, the knuckles of his right going ivory-white as he holds the book tightly. John looks him in the eyes again and finds them cold.

He grasps for something, anything. “Mr. Peglar,” he settles on. It takes every effort to call him such. Somehow, he keeps his voice steady. “I apologize, that was my fault.”

Harry’s jaw visibly tightens. “It’s alright. No harm done.” His gaze is unflinching; John can’t look away, even as he desperately wants to. “I should be welcoming you back to London, I suppose. Two weeks back, is that right?”

John knows that Harry knows it’s correct. He still answers, “Yes, it has,” and takes another step away from him. And then, because he enjoys hurting himself, “I want to congratulate you on your promotion. I’d heard- Captain of the foretop, that’s-”

He isn’t prepared for Harry to suddenly move closer, then past him, what John wishes was the brushing of arms more like a shove on the narrow street. “Good afternoon, Mr. Bridgens,” he says, sharp like a knife, and then he’s gone around the corner. John stares at the empty space where he just was. (That went well, he thinks.)

#they broke UP its SAD!! they get back together later though it’s. f i n e #anon #[redacted] answers #the terror

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aes-iii · 5 years

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state of grace | irving(/little) + peglar/bridgens | 850 words see tags for warnings

He doesn’t mean to see it. He never does.

There’s a place in the cable tier that Hickey frequents with Gibson: John has taken to patrolling it, every now and again. To deter them, if nothing else. Perhaps as well to remind himself how sordid it all is, how unforgiving and how low, on those nights when he finds himself restless or wakes from dreams of broad hands and strong thighs. Splashes icewater on his face; digs nails into palms; prays: and failing all descends, down into the hot dark which smells of tar and cordage, to hear them grunt against each other, Gibson’s little sobs and Hickey’s muffled curses. If he has the presence he interrupts them, although his horror of the act often makes him linger longer than he should. After, always, he feels sick and raw, and is resolved never to come again.

This, then, is not what he has come for.

Peglar is a good foretopman, his offences all forgivable and his voice in prayer earnest and true. John would not have thought it of him--it tightens his heart to think it. Bridgens he does not know so well, but the man has Captain Franklin’s regard; he has always been pleasant to John, a good and faithful servant. It is misery to find them troubled by this same ungodly thing: he reminds himself of this.

“All right,” Bridgens is saying now, and John isn’t sure if it’s a question or not: “All right,” and his voice is gentle, affectionate. “There,” he says, and John can’t see any of it but he wonders for a moment if he is mistaken after all: if they have come here for some other reason, to have some private exchange which is not ruinous nor damning. Perhaps they are merely gamblers, or drinkers, or—or Papists. Perhaps it is only his own wretchedness that leads him to his thoughts.

“Yes,” Peglar says, as a breath, and John knows he is not wrong.

If he shifts his weight, leans a little, presses his shoulders to the bulkhead behind him, he can see them in their vignette: Peglar with his head tipped back, up against the casks; Bridgens pressed attentively to him, his hand against Peglar's cheek. They face each other: that is something different. (In John’s dreams Edward is always behind him.)

“John,” Peglar sighs, and John starts: but it is for Bridgens, of course. “Will you have me,” and John can see his hand moving: his palm against Bridgens’s shoulder, then slipping into his hair. Peglar shifts a bit, as if aligning himself.

Against John’s palm his trouserfront is warm, just rough enough for friction.

“Ah,” says Bridgens, and John can hear him smiling. “Not here, love,”—says it just like that, unashamed, like a Christian thing, and John’s heart beats, beats, beats. An arc of frustration through him, that they will commit no correctable sin: and then an ache.

Peglar laughs a little, breathlessly: “You’re too good, John,” he says, and tugs the man closer, into a kiss. In the low light of their lantern it's like a painting, like something holy, driven by some silent motive force. His watercolours, he thinks, could not capture it: there is something medieval in the light. “Later, then,” Peglar says, when they pull apart.

“Later,” Bridgens says. “Come read with me a while, now.”

They tip their heads together, unfettered, forehead to forehead, and are quiet. Just their breathing in the warm dark. It is a perversion, surely—a corruption of that love which men feel for their brothers, of the love of God which guides every hand—but somehow it looks like peace. He swallows, thickly: his throat is impossible, choking full of nothing, and his eyes are hot. When he shuts them he can see Bridgens’s fingers against Peglar’s jaw.

(Leaving they pass inches from where John stands, stiff and silent: he has always excelled at not being seen. Their hands, he notices, are clasped.)

Later, up ladders and ladders to the focsle in the first crisp light of morning, where the cold scrapes like a dull knife. The ship still sleeping: even the men on deck quiet, thoughtful, with pipes in mouths. On the quarterdeck a well-bundled mate—Thomas, he thinks—keeps watch, Edward unmissable beside him. He is watching John: raises his hand in greeting, silent as snowfall. John waves back as if dreaming.

The cold is a blessing and a curse: cheeks still warm from the heat below, John looks at the brash ice and shivers. Soon Thomas will call his chilblained marine to turn the glass and strike the bell: so they will go on, hour by hour, even unto death.

Flat on the palm of the sea John looks into the grey eye of heaven and thinks: Lord preserve me.

Heaven does not answer, except to send him Edward Little: striding up the focsle now to smile at him, all unassuming charm. "John," he says, and he sounds pleased to say it—"John," Peglar had said, as if dying—"I thought it was you skulking over here."

"It is," says John, and swallows, and smiles.

#12daysofcarnivale #mention of gibson/hickey #voyeurism and repression #john-irving-typical homophobia #liberties taken with proper stowage of casks and cable #and special thanks to the vancouver maritime museum for use of the phrase 'the act'

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phoenixflames12 · 3 years

Note

SO I'm very torn between:

18: “You come here often?” “Well considering I work here, yes.”

And:

42: “Are you flirting with me?”

For Bridglar xxx

Thank you so much, dearest @pudentilla! This got very long very, very quickly, but I hope you enjoy all the same!

Takes place in the same 'verse as Tawny Leaves, Croissants, Crosswords, and Raspberry Jam and Soft Summer Evenings, but you do not need to have read those three to understand that these two are precious beans and I love them dearly.

Prompt list

18 ‘You come here often?”

“Well considering I work here, yes.”

John Bridgens/Henry Peglar

Modern AU

London’s streets are awash with a fine mist of September drizzle when they meet for the first time.

The cobbles outside the main entrance to the shop are shining in the washed out light, the street a huddle of umbrellas, coats and harried pedestrians trying to make it to the bus stop for their journey home.

John is making himself a cup of tea (his fourth of the day after a particular trying customer had berated him for not having an online presence- he would like to; he just doesn’t know where to start) and checking the supplies in the small café area when the bell goes.

Stravinsky, curled in his favourite spot on the window ledge overlooking the street, mewls to greet their new customers.

‘Just coming!’

Shoving the milk back into the tiny fridge and scribbling a note on the pad of post its (more milk and brown sugar, book a vet appointment for Stravinsky, buy more cat food) John weaves his way into the main hub. He brushes past a drooping vine, toes a bag of compost out of the way, and finds the counter still littered with books, stationary, and a packet of radish seeds that he was just about to store away before he’d been interrupted.

Ned Little is standing in the doorway to the shop, shaking sheets of rain from his coat, and trying to pet Stravinsky at the same time.

‘He settling in OK, John?’

‘Fine, I think. Found that spot on the window ledge perfectly.’

Ned’s eyes are dark and soft as he grins in reply, squatting to scratch the cat behind the ears, and John spots his companion for the first time.

He’s of average height, John thinks; yet his arms and legs look long and gangly, as if he hasn’t quite grown into his limbs. A crown of heavy dark hair flops out from a grey Brixton beanie, a maroon jumper showing the hint of a crumpled blue and white striped shirt untucked into buff trousers and leather boots that are scuffed at the toes, their laces tied around his ankles several times. A full, dark beard sparked through with blonde lights caresses his chin. He looks like a fawn, a Bambi fawn from the Disney film that hasn’t found his feet yet, John thinks.

The sight of backpack straps and a cheap Canon camera looped around his neck, and John thinks, but can’t be certain, and doesn’t want to presume, that he’s a student.

Yet it is the eyes that catch him off guard.

They are deep and endless eyes, seemingly huge in the thin, beautiful face with its high cheekbones and long nose. John suddenly feels ancient in his leather apron and unravelling jersey with its’ leather patches on the elbows.

‘This is Henry Peglar, John,’ Ned says quickly, remembering his manners as he straightens up and flashes the lad a smile. ‘He’s doing the photographs for the local arts magazine. Henry, this is John Bridgens. All round book guru, plant nerd and a retired Classics teacher, so tells a brilliant story. Top notch bloke. Makes a wicked chilli too.’

He grins cheekily at John, who swallows a smile and hopes he isn’t blushing.

And there’s a name to the face, and John cannot help but swallow a smile, and Henry smiles in return, a soft lopsided smile that he never wants to end.

‘Pleasure,’ Henry murmurs, and John hears the twang of south London mixed with something deeper and rounder that makes him think of the west country.

In that moment, John Bridgens also knows that he has fallen completely and hopelessly in love.

~*~

Henry is a regular in the shop, after that.

John can often find him curled up in one of the sagging armchairs that is tucked under a beam by the kitchen, slowly reading his way through Jane Eyre, a biro tucked between his teeth as he scribbles down unknown words. Anne, the little underdog, will always be John’s favorite out of all the Bronte sisters, but he wants Henry to make up his own mind.

Stravinsky is purring on his lap, a puddle of fire kissed tabby, stretching luxuriously against Henry’s knees.

‘He likes you.’

A soft, approving smile as he passes the chair on his way to the outer storeroom to hunt out some more pea sticks. Stravinsky yawns, and curls closer. The sun from the skylight dapples across his tawny fur, setting lights of amber and russet ablaze across his back.

A flash of that lopsided grin in reply.

Some evenings John will find an obnoxiously large Sports Direct mug sat on the counter of the café’s sink, long after Henry’s said his farewells, and smile to himself. A mug that should by rights be balancing on the arm of the armchair, filled with hot, milky tea and now has found its’ way to the flat, looking like it has always been there.

Henry agrees to get John online as well, showing him the basics of a Square Space website and how to make a business Facebook page and Instagram account.

He takes photo after photo of hydrangeas, giant poppies, Dracaenas, Hederas and Philodendrons, whilst John scribbles down notes and carefully writes out their Latin names from memory.

‘How do you know all of this stuff?’

‘Time. Time and patience, and lots of reading.’

Late one October evening, when they’re closing the shop, they find themselves in the inner storeroom. John’s putting away some recently acquired stock and Henry is lounging against a shelf post, beanie askew, hands in his pockets. The bare bulb flickers over the granite slab floor, picking out the lights in his beard, and there’s a hum of something in the air that John can’t quite place.

‘You come here often?’

It’s an innocent, teasing question, lights dancing in dark eyes.

‘Well, considering I work here, yes.’

John turns from the shelf, heart suddenly thudding in his chest despite his smile.

And then Henry’s face is in his hands, and his in Henry’s, the weight of their fingers strange and unsteady and awkward; the rich, deep sharpness of Henry’s almond-y scent pressing firmly against John’s lips.

The kiss tastes of tea and milk and biro acid and a heady undernote of almonds, and neither of them know who began it.

It’s over before either of them know that it’s begun, or what they’ve started, and yet it feels to John to last a lifetime.

In the flickering light, he cannot see the younger man’s face, but feels him draw away, slow and shaky and awkward as the moment stretches, time seeming to slow until each heartbeat is an agony.

When he catches his gaze, Henry’s eyes are somehow even wider with embarrassment, shimmering with what could be tears.

John’s heart is suddenly tight in his chest, a knot of pain and shame and fear that will not go away.

‘I’m sorry- I didn’t- I didn’t know-‘

Wordlessly, he takes the young man’s face in his hands and draws him under the bulb, knurled fingers tracing the lines of cheek and jaw.

‘Don’t ever be sorry, Henry. I didn’t know either- I –’ he murmurs, looks away, the words caught and choked in his throat.

Standing on tiptoe, Henry presses a soft, chaste kiss against John’s cheek in reply.

It’s a kiss that’s caught with salt, and John nods in reply, their fingers gently twining as Henry shoulders his backpack and leaves the room.

#mine #writing #fanfiction #the terror #modern au #henry peglar has a sports direct mug cinematic universe #john bridgens #henry peglar #edward little #thoughts?

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oceancamp · 5 years

Text

day 5: a private performance

...and he couldn’t help but smile at the realization that Thomas wasn’t so sickly pale anymore and that the spark of energy in his eyes returned.

Coming back to full health after the sickness wrecked your body was one thing, regaining the strength of your spirit was the other. The latter unfortunately could never be guaranteed and Edward Little was afraid, that his own grasp on it wasn’t too firm. When the rescue came, he was way too weary to really feel any joy. Relief, yes, but hardly any enthusiastic happiness.

However, as days passed, he wasn’t deprived of small moments when he could slowly start to feel alive again. Which mostly happened at Jopson’s bedside, where he watched as his lover recovered, and couldn’t help but smile at the realization that Thomas wasn’t so sickly pale anymore and that the spark of energy in his eyes returned.

Edward was there as often as he could, and one time accidentally he found himself asleep with his head down on Jopson’s bed and a blanket wrapped around him, most likely by Crozier who came inside while he was dozing off, and was now talking with Thomas. Since he started feeling well enough to sit upright on his cot, Jopson predictably came to conclusion that he should try to help around now, but naturally the captain was having none of it and made sure he kept on resting. Little thought that this small circle of theirs could be another thing he could take comfort in – it was different than his family back at home, but he didn’t love the newfound one any less.

He observed how the others spent the time given them until everyone would be able to move. Bridgens and Peglar, side by side, whispered to each other over an open journal. Le Vesconte was singing quietly to captain Fitzjames, who still had yet to fully regain consciousness after his wounds were taken care of. Little himself didn’t have any book to bring to Jopson, but sometimes he would hum a quiet tune. Thomas asked him for something for something more than just this “sweet melody”, as he called it, but Edward just brushed it off with an embarrassed smile, no matter how much his partner was insisting on it.

- What are you thinking about? – asked Little one time, when Jopson was propped up against him and absent-mindedly tracing invisible patterns on his arm.

- Oh? Hmm, it’s just that, I just remembered it would be my birthday today – Jopson said, like it was some unimportant fact that he was stating.

Little looked at him, surprised, and then smiled broadly and turned to hug him.

- My dearest, happy birthday. I’m sorry that I don’t have anything for you now, but – he said, but was cut off by Jopson, who gently grabbed the back of his head and guided him in for a kiss.

Later, they embraced each other again. After a while Edward spoke:

- I have an idea. Could you take my hand in yours? All right. Wait, a bit differently. Yes, like this.

- Edward, this looks quite ridiculous.

- Oh, come on.

It did look kind of ridiculous, both of them holding each other while sitting, and rocking back and forth slowly.

- Could you please explain, what are we doing now?

- Why, dancing.

- You have a really interesting idea about what dancing is.

- Do you mind?

Thomas laughed.

- No, not really.

Edward decided, that once they’re back in England, he needs to make sure they’ll find time to do the whole thing properly. He already could imagine both of them lost in the music, and in each other. He thought of how beautiful Thomas would look, especially after he’ll be given his lieutenant’s uniform, and smiled.

#the terror #12daysofcarnivale #thomas jopson #edward little #posting early because of tomorrow's protest

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puella-peanut · 6 years

Note

saw your jopson post (it killed me dead) and wanted to know what are your thoughts on who is gay or not in the terror?

(For some reason, this turned into a glorified shitpost. I am not sorry.)

Captain Francis Crozier: A moody Bi with a vengeance, he does not discriminate against gender, station—or inanimate objects—and enjoys the company of women, men, and doomed ships. In no particular order. However, he is rather prone to sulking himself into a state of clinical depression with (many) bottles of whiskey for company. Never gin, damn you.

Sir John Franklin: This ultra-hetero snob has never seen a woman naked including his wife, and barely knows where to put the parts to get things running. Can count the number of times he has engaged in body-business on one hand. Blissfully under the impression he is a sex-god, regardless. If he were ice-cream, he’d be vanilla—but without any flavor, only ice.

Captain James Fitzjames: Flamboyant, kinky dandy James loves theatrical role-play, high-society, and masquerade balls; heart-to-heart conversation, and silk dresses. Not on you fool—on himself. As if anyone but him could pull off tight-lacing and imported ruffles! May stretch the truth of his life a bit for flair, but good lord, does this handsome gay look good doing it!

Dr. Harry Bestsir Goodsir: Our curly-haired cutie only enjoys the quiet company of exotic, raven-haired ladies, intellectual stimulation, and the study of foreign languages! Gregarious, sweet, and earnest, he’ll probably imply that he wants to marry you on the third date, but as he is both very kind, and an anatomist, we most certainly do recommend saying yes, as the benefits are…extraordinary.

Thomas Blanky: Excuse us, but Certified-Arse-Kicking-Badass-Mo'fo Blanky doesn’t have time for slow-burn, lovey-dovey stuff of an intimate nature. He doesn’t do candle-lit-dinners, coy-flirtation, or frolicking between satin-bedsheets. When he wants something, he cuts right to the chase, pun intended. But given the opportunity, setting, or simply the inevitable death-sentence of gangrene—he probably would not say no to a bit of fun with the fur, if you get our drift.

Thomas Jopson: It remains uncertain if his feelings are platonic or more, but this gorgeous, blue-eyed pretty-boy is strictly Crozier-sexual, and takes great pleasure in serving his crotchety old Captain, take that as you may. Gentle and loyal beyond reason, he either has a thing for Naval uniforms, or possibly Daddy’s. Maybe both. Also—he simply cannot live without acknowledgement.

Lieutenant John Irving: What?! Godless heathen, haven’t you been taught that SEX IS A SIN??111!!!!!11

John Bridgens & Harry Peglar: Better known as Mr. and Mr., these inseparable, single-target-sexuality lovebirds are the sweetest-of-sweethearts despite a considerable age difference. Regardless, they have a shared love of hand-written-poetry, Greek literature, and the occasional 19th century rom-com. Pastimes include gazing into each others eyes, pocketing sentimental keepsakes, and going to sleep outdoors.

Cornelius Hickey: Lethal manwhore and depraved homosexual with better hair than you will ever have, pretty-boy Hickey is highly interested, and rather proficient in—the pleasures of the male-anatomy. Don’t let his small stature fool you; he may not be large, but he is most certainly in charge, and has happily made a religion of the classic Use You, Abuse You™ creed of sociopaths and bastard boyfriends. Power-hungry, evil, and rather fond of tropical islands, he makes for a terrible lover, and well, a terrible human-being. Proceed with caution, and keep pets far away.

Tuunbaq: LIKES THE TASTE OF ENGLISHMEN, even though they cause him indigestion. Oh dear.

#the terror #francis crozier #james fitzjames #john franklin #thomas blanky #harry goodsir #thomas jopson #john irving #john bridgens #harry peglar #henry peglar #cornelius hickey #tuunbaq #in which i respond to your inquires #in which i chase paper cuts

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annecoulmanross · 4 years

Photo

The premise: AMC’s The Terror (2018) is almost perfectly set up to be a structured as a classical Greek tragedy, or, ideally, a series of three tragedies.

Three requirements of a classical Greek tragedy:

The play is performed by only three actors and a chorus.

The three actors perform all of the dialogue roles between them.

All of the action of the play takes place on a single day (in the space of no more than twenty-four hours), and always in the same physical place.

Obviously this last requirement is the hardest to achieve with the events of the show sprawling over two years or more, but with a trilogy of three tragedies, you could narrow the action down to three key days: (1) Franklin’s death, (2) Carnevale, and (3) The day the mutineers lure the Tuunbaq and everyone but Crozier dies. I could focus on the structural elements that would allow for these three days of “action” but I’m more interested in the implications of the first two requirements: basically, can you stage a version of The Terror with only three actors? The answer is that – barring action sequences which would never be staged in a Greek tragedy anyway, because all true action happens off-stage – yes, yes you can. So, let’s talk about logistics.

Core Casting Divisions:

ACTOR 1 = Franklin (also: Goodsir, Blanky, Little, Bridgens, Tozer, etc.)

ACTOR 2 = Fitzjames (also: Lady Silence, Hickey, Jopson, Peglar, Stanley, etc.)

ACTOR 3 = Crozier (also: Collins, MacDonald, Hodgson, Gibson, etc.)

Beneath the cut: how this casting breaks down, scene by scene; and the implications of these casting divisions, complete with a lot of rambling thoughts about – among other things – gender, masculinity, and (amusingly) Rome.

(Also, I want to thank my dear friends, fellow terror-classicists, and everyone who has so patiently talked terror-meta and terror-thoughts with me, including, but in no way limited to, @kaserl, @catilinas, @rhavewellyarnbag, @paramaline, and @endofvanity – your wonderful thoughts about this show have been enormously helpful as I’ve played with the narrative mechanics here!)

Casting, Scene-by-Scene

A basic outlay of all major dialogue scenes in every episode (a “major dialogue scene” is a scene with more than one character, minus “fight scenes” because action never happens on stage in a Greek tragedy), with the roles of the three actors listed in 1-2-3 order, and an “x” to mark when an actor doesn’t appear in a scene.

01x01 – “Go for Broke”

Franklin – Fitzjames – Collins [Discussing the ice]

Blanky – x – Crozier [Crozier complains, part 1]

x – Jopson – Crozier [Crozier complains, part 2]

Strong – Hickey – Young [Young’s illness revealed]

Franklin – Fitzjames – Crozier [Fitzjames’ storytelling]

Goodsir – Stanley – Young [Treating Young’s illness]

Franklin – Fitzjames – Collins [Collins’s dive]

Goodsir – Stanley – Young [Young’s autopsy]

Franklin – Fitzjames – Crozier [Franklin’s decision]

Tozer – Hickey – Manson [Burying Young]

Franklin – Fitzjames – Gore [The pack has arrived]

(Notes: This is an incredibly cleanly written episode, and the casting is correspondingly clean. Franklin and Fitzjames almost always appear together, as do Goodsir and Stanley; both pairs are “leader and subordinate,” but the roles shift, with Actor 1 as Franklin and Goodsir, and Actor 2 as Fitzjames and Stanley. Actor 3, meanwhile, plays three characters with foresight: Crozier, who foretells the pack ice through his knowledge and by listening to Blanky; and Collins and Young, through their more supernatural visions.)

01x02 – “Gore”

Franklin – Fitzjames – Gregory [Checking the engine]

Bridgens – Peglar – x [“Here comes the lending library”]

Franklin – Fitzjames – Gore [Gore’s sledge party departs]

Goodsir – Peglar – Gore [Gore’s sledge party]

Franklin – Fitzjames – Crozier [“Repairing bonds”]

Irving – Hickey – Gibson [Irving’s discovery]

Franklin – Fitzjames – Hodgson [Hodgson’s sledge party returns]

Blanky – x – Crozier [Remembering Parry’s expedition]

Irving – Hickey – Crozier [A shared drink]

Goodsir – Lady Silence – Crozier [The death of Silence’s father]

Goodsir – Fitzjames – Crozier [Goodsir explains how Gore died]

Franklin – Fitzjames – Crozier [Franklin discusses how Gore died]

Blanky – Lady Silence – Crozier [Lady Silence’s warning]

(Notes: As the show adds complexity, so does the casting. Irving appears as a new role for Actor 1, paralleling Franklin in his religiosity; Gibson appears as a new role for Actor 3, paralleling Crozier in being a person with whom Hickey.... uh, flirts.)

01x03 – “The Ladder”

Hartnell – Morfin – Weekes [Preparing Lady Silence’s father, part 1]

Goodsir – Morfin – Weekes [Preparing Lady Silence’s father, part 2]

Hartnell – Lady Silence – Hodgson [Returning the totems to Lady Silence]

Goodsir – x – Des Voeux [“Burying” Lady Silence’s father]

Little – Jopson – Crozier [Little’s worries about the Inuit]

Irving – Hickey – Gibson [Gibson asks for Irving’s counsel]

Franklin – Fitzjames – Crozier [The sledge rescue party proposal]

Blanky – x – Crozier [Crozier’s mutiny plan]

Irving – Hickey – x [Irving’s warning]

x – Hickey – Gibson [The break-up]

(Note: The sequence in the hunting blind is nigh-impossible within this casting, since it features predominantly three separate characters all played by Actor 1 – Franklin, Goodsir, and Tozer. Imagined poetically, one could say that this is an omen of the violence so soon to come in the physical space of the hunting blind, since violence cannot be depicted on stage in a Greek tragedy. Conceived practically, one might argue that this is because the hunting blind is a hotbed of toxic masculinity, where the masculine Tozer baits the patriarchal Franklin into remaining with the marines, and teases Goodsir for his “feminine” caution.)

Franklin – Fitzjames – Crozier [The death of Franklin]

Chambers – Morfin – Weekes [“Silver swan”]

Blanky – Fitzjames – Crozier [“It’s technically not mutiny if I’m in charge”]

(Notes: This episode mainly functions to round out the first third of the show’s narrative, so the main parallels are familiar. We do, however, have a range of important sequences featuring the new-to-us characters Morfin and Weekes; we begin to get to know more of the men, rather than just officers. Morfin is played by Actor 2, which could be evidence to argue that Morfin was once lashed was for sodomy – cf. “Actor 2,” below for more.)

01x04 – “Punished as a Boy”

x – Jopson – Crozier [“You hear everything, Jopson”]

x – Fitzjames – Crozier [“Does not one bring one’s habits to Terror?”]

Goodsir – Stanley – MacDonald [Tending to Heather]

Tozer – Hickey – x [The idea to kidnap Lady Silence develops]

Little – Fitzjames – Crozier [The plan to “get” Lady Silence develops]

Hartnell – Hickey – Crozier [Questioning the kidnappers]

Johnson – Hickey – Crozier [The lashing]

x – Hickey – MacDonald [After the lashing]

Goodsir – Morfin – x [Morfin’s headaches]

(Note: The scene “Morfin’s headaches” is really interesting to me, because it causes overlap problems all over the place: Morfin MUST be played by Actor 2, because his death scene must have Goodsir (1) and Crozier (3) in it, but Actor 2 also plays Fitzjames and Stanley, both of whom are also in this scene; this is the scene in which Fitzjames and Stanley have their one significant conversation, in fact, which it hurt me desperately to lose. I think there’s something in this scene about thwarted connections – Morfin reaching out to Goodsir, Stanley reaching out to Fitzjames – and that may be why it all tangles up here, why the casting system breaks down and fails here, as it does.)

Irving – x – Crozier [Men shifting to Erebus]

Goodsir – Lady Silence – Des Voeux [Feeding Lady Silence]

(Note: Goodsir sure does have a lot of scenes with Des Voeux in these early episodes. I’d never noticed this, and I’m not sure what to make of it.)

01x05 – “First Shot a Winner Lads”

Little – Fitzjames – x [Sending Lady Silence to Terror]

Goodsir – Stanley – Des Voeux [Goodsir asks leave to go to Terror]

x – Fitzjames – Collins [The requisition of spirits]

Goodsir – Hickey – x [Hickey’s wounds]

Little – x – Crozier [“How fares the raft of the Medusa?”]

(Note: Little and Blanky almost never interact, so the fact that they are both Actor 1 rarely causes problems. Losing Blanky in this scene is tragic, though, BUT this does create an interesting parallel between Crozier’s failure at being a mentor for Little, and MacDonald’s greater success(?) at being a mentor for Goodsir, below, since both are Actor 1 as mentee & Actor 3 as mentor scenes. )

Goodsir – Hickey – x [“Does that really work with anyone?”]

Goodsir – x – MacDonald [Doctors bonding over teeth exploding]

x – Hickey – Gibson [The proposal]

Irving – Hickey – Manson [Storing Hornby’s body]

Goodsir – Lady Silence – Crozier [Interviewing Lady Silence]

Blanky – Fitzjames – Crozier [The punch]

Blanky – Jopson – Crozier [Blanky’s amputation]

(Note: Jopson is holding Blanky’s hand during the amputation. That’s my justification for having him here. I just like it, that’s all.)

Little – Jopson – Crozier [Crozier’s detox plan]

(Note: Obviously, there are additional important people in the “Crozier’s detox plan” scene, and one is loath to ignore Fitzjames, for example. But this is the beginning of Jopson’s core arc, so he takes priority, and Little receiving Crozier’s gun is weighty.)

01x06 – “A Mercy”

Irving – Fitzjames – MacDonald [The provisions remaining]

Blanky – Fitzjames – x [The Fury Beach™ Scene]

x – Jopson – Crozier [Tending to Crozier, with Jopson’s backstory]

Hartnell – Hickey – x [Hartnell’s new charter]

Little – Fitzjames – x [Carnevale as a “last hurrah” before the walk-out]

x – Stanley – Collins [“Flurried thoughts”]

Bridgens – Peglar – x [Xenophon’s Anabasis]

Goodsir – Stanley – x [Goodsir’s discovery re: the tinned goods]

x – Jopson – Crozier [Going to Carnevale]

(Note: We’ve just had seven (7!) entire 2-person scenes of either (a) Actors 1 and 2, or (b) Actors 2 and 3, bouncing back and forth – this would keep Actor 2 very, VERY busy. Actor 2 also plays no less that five (5!) different characters in here, almost their entire core repertoire of Fitzjames, Hickey, Jopson, Stanley, and Peglar, omitting only Lady Silence, who will also show up later in this episode. There’s a lot more to be said here, but I’ll just note that we start and end with scenes of Jopson caring for Crozier – a classical ring structure – with Stanley failing to care for Collins placed at the center.)

Blanky – Jopson – Crozier [Crozier arrives at Carnevale]

x – Hickey – Des Voeux [“Unless you want that ripped off?”]

Little – Fitzjames – Crozier [Crozier’s speech at Carnevale]

Goodsir – Lady Silence – Crozier [Lady Silence returns]

x – Stanley – Crozier [The fire begins]

x – Hickey – MacDonald [MacDonald’s death]

Goodsir – Fitzjames – Crozier [After Carnevale]

01x07 – “Horrible from Supper”

x – Fitzjames – Crozier [What the men have packed]

Tozer – Hickey – Gibson [The mutiny plot begins]

Goodsir – Morfin – Collins [Morfin stumbles]

Blanky – Jopson – Crozier [Goodbye to Terror]

Goodsir – x – Collins [“Terrible from supper”]

Goodsir – x – Crozier [Goodsir wants hunting parties]

Tozer – Morfin – Crozier [Finding Fairholme’s fate]

(Note: For casting reasons, Fitzjames doesn’t appear here, though he’s very much present in the show’s version of the discovery of Fairholme’s remains. One might derive some AU scenarios for this (what if Fitzjames didn’t know about the destruction of Fairholme’s rescue party?) or one might contemplate what it means for Fitzjames to be present or not, when, notably, the numbers of how many men have died that Fitzjames writes on the Victory Point Note addendum in the next episode ONLY tally if Fitzjames forgets – or purposely omits – Fairholme and the men of his sledge party.)

x – Fitzjames – Crozier [The Hand Touch™ Scene]

Little – x – Crozier [“The men deserve every gold thing there is.” ]

(Note: Crozier and Little will have to also discuss Tozer’s recommendation to arm the men as a past event, since Tozer can’t be in this scene with Little already there, when they’re both Actor 1; more on this in the next episode.)

Goodsir – Morfin – Crozier [Morfin’s death]

Goodsir – Lady Silence – x [Goodsir gets comfort-cuddles]

Hartnell – Jopson – Crozier [Hartnell is a good boy.jpeg and so is Jopson]

Little – Jopson – Crozier [Jopson’s promotion]

Tozer – Hickey – Hodgson [Bringing Hodgson into the mutiny]

Irving – Hickey – Koveyook [Asking for help]

01x08 – “Terror Camp Clear”

x – Fitzjames – Crozier [Victory Point Note addendum]

(Note: The scene where Crozier questions Hodgson poses some problems, since both are Actor 3. The details may simply have to be elided into other scenes. This episode has several such issues, including, tragically, Hickey and Jopson’s scenes (Actor 2), and, unfortunately, Little and Tozer’s scenes (Actor 1). What this does show us is some new dynamics in the overlaps – Hickey and Jopson are Crozier’s “prodigal son” and the obedient elder son, respectively; Little and Tozer are what happens when leadership goes wrong, in two very different ways.)

Goodsir – Lady Silence – Crozier [Discussing Irving’s mutilation]

Little – Fitzjames – Crozier [Leaving Little in charge]

Bridgens – Peglar – Collins [Bridgens the doctor]

Blanky – Hickey – Crozier [Interrogation at the scene of the crime]

Goodsir – Lady Silence – x [Mourning friends]

Tozer – x – Des Voeux [Noises in the fog]

Little – x – Hodgson [Hodgson’s worries about the Inuit]

Blanky – Fitzjames – Crozier [Realizing the camp is armed]

Goodsir – Lady Silence – Crozier [Sending Lady Silence away to safety]

x – Hickey – Gibson [Mutiny planning]

Little – Fitzjames – Crozier [Arresting Hickey]

Little – Hickey – Crozier [The hanging]

Diggle – Hickey – Gibson [The mutiny sledge leaves]

Tozer – x – Collins [Collins’ death]

(Note: Even before Goodsir is kidnapped by the mutineers, like Penelope ambushed by the suitors, this episode gives us none of the Goodsir – Fitzjames – Crozier dynamic that stabilized the end of Carnevale; Bridgens has, in many ways, already taken over for Goodsir in becoming the “doctor” for the crew, and he will bloom into having two vitally important and devastating Bridgens – Fitzjames – Crozier scenes in the next episode. For now, Goodsir has three major scenes with Lady Silence: the last they will ever have together.)

01x09 – “The C the C the Open C”

Bridgens – Fitzjames – Crozier ["Blank pages now”]

x – Fitzjames – Crozier [“More than god loves them,” part 2]

Tozer – Hickey – Hodgson [Hodgson joins the mutiny]

x – Fitzjames – Crozier [Fitzjames falls]

x – Hickey – Hodgson [“Veal Cutlets Tomata”]

Goodsir – Hickey – Gibson [“(Tr)eating” Gibson]

Little – Jopson – Crozier [Little proposes leaving the sick behind]

(Note: The last time we saw these three together, it was Jopson’s promotion, and the time before that, it was “Crozier’s detox plan,” and Jopson was promising “I got you” to his captain; now it’s the other way around. Little acts as a pivot around which circumstances turn, rather than an agent in and of himself in many ways. Like fellow Actor 1 character Franklin, Little is thrust into a position of leadership for which he isn’t truly ready, and then his choices are slowly cut off from him – but where Franklin’s choices are cut off by fate, and the ice, Little’s are largely cut off by the opposition of others: first his captain, in vetoing the plan to leave the sick behind, and then by the men, in voting to leave the captain in Hickey’s clutches.)

Inuit Leader – Lady Silence – x [Not enough food to share]

Bridgens – Fitzjames – Crozier [The end]

Little – Golding – Crozier [The funeral]

Blanky – x – Crozier [Forks]

Bridgens – Peglar – x [“Can we sleep?”]

Tozer – Hickey – Armitage [Making mutiny camp]

Goodsir – Hickey – Hodgson [Feeding mutiny camp]

(Note: So technically Tozer is visibly in this scene, and Hodgson’s not, but in a Greek tragedy he would be visibly on stage, so I’m calling that fair play.)

Goodsir – x – Hodgson [Hodgson’s Eucharist monologue]

Tozer – Hickey – x [Tozer’s plan to return to the ships]

Bridgens – Peglar – x [The C the C the open C]

Tozer – Pilkington – Armitage [Discontented mutineers]

x – Jopson – Crozier [Foley’s cow]

Little – Golding – Crozier [A false report]

Hartnell – x – Crozier [“Go be with your brother now”]

Little – x – Crozier [“We will live”]

01x10 – “We Are Gone”

x – Hickey – Crozier [A Wednesday]

Little – x – Le Vesconte [A vote]

(Note: For you Dundy fans, this is literally the first time I’ve found a place for him; I could perhaps have gone back and put in the short “benjo” scene, but alas, some things aren’t meant to be – the primary people listening to that announcement are Hickey (2) and Gibson (3) and Le Vesconte clearly can’t be Actor 1, since this, his star scene, is with Little (1). Dundy really does come out of nowhere, narratively speaking, even more so than Hodgson in many ways.)

Goodsir – x – Crozier [“This place is beautiful to me”]

x – Hickey – Crozier [“I forgive all of them”]

Diggle – x – Crozier [Escape plans]

Tozer – Hickey – Crozier [A doctor a day keeps the doctor… well]

Tozer – Hickey – Des Voeux [Next steps forward]

Tozer – Hickey – Crozier [“You could have just joined up”]

Little – Lady Silence – Crozier [Captains losing ship and crew]

Inuit Leader – Lady Silence – Crozier [“Silna”]

Inuit Leader – Translator – James Clark Ross [“Aglooka”]

(Note: Working chronologically such that James Clark Ross appears only at the end but not also at the beginning, as per the rules of Greek drama, our Actor 2 ends the story in the role of the Translator. Something very poetic about that.)

Implications of the Casting System

Basically, my argument here is that, in a pinch, you can retell the narrative of AMC’s The Terror (2018) using only three actors, with relatively minimal problems of overlap, and that’s FASCINATING.

In part, these core casting divisions (Actors 1, 2, and 3) are purely pragmatic – we have scenes that require, e.g., Franklin and Fitzjames and Crozier to all make important statements, so those three have to be played by different actors. And it fractals out from there – e.g., Blanky and Crozier have numerous significant scenes, so they can’t be the same actor, and you can’t lose the “Sir John Ross Never Knew How Close He Came” Fury Beach scene, so Blanky and Fitzjames can’t be the same actor, which means Blanky and Franklin MUST be. But sometimes these spiraling casting necessities make for very cool accidental overlaps as a result of the pragmatic necessities of so small a cast.

(Also, for the classicists in the room, I first mapped this out while watching a production of the Bacchae, so that tells you something about my headspace.)

So, interesting things about what parallels these actors might play out:

– Actor 1 predominantly plays very masculine men in very traditional masculine roles (Franklin, the paternal leader; Blanky, so rugged and grounded in himself; Little, the stoic with depressive tendencies who’s bottling up his emotions; Tozer, who is, um, Tozer). The exception in many ways is Goodsir. The thing is, Goodsir is one of most feminized men in this show, given his role as a medical care provider, his warm softness, his initial apparent lack of physical courage (it’s an abundance of reasonable caution, Tozer!), and his Penelope-like role in later the Odyssey narrative. But Goodsir has to be played by a different actor than most of the other characters in this show with a dubious relationship to Victorian British masculinity (Actor 2, see below), because he shares scenes with them! Goodsir and Hickey MUST be played by different actors (not to mention Lady Silence). So here we are, with Goodsir amongst the “manly men.” Even Bridgens is fairly traditionally masculine, if only in his physical appearance and his classical education.

Other interesting parallels: If I had to give a real, classical answer to the “why is Goodsir with this bunch” question, I think it has to do with the shift from the Franklin & Fitzjames & Crozier “First Triumvirate” of the early episodes (brief Roman digression, but the Roman “First Triumvirate” would be Franklin = Pompey, Fitzjames = Crassus (well… Cicero), Crozier = Caesar? …hilarious) to the Goodsir & Hickey & Crozier “Second Triumvirate” of the later episodes (Goodsir = Lepidus (I’m SORRY), Hickey = Antony, Crozier = Augustus). Basically, Goodsir has to take Sir John’s place as the representative of (or spokesperson for) the brittle British empire and its hapless inadequacies, once Franklin is gone (more on this is “Actor 2.”)

Also, you know, re: Blanky and Sir John, both men lose a leg. Do with that what you will. (“Good one leg man” and “Bad one leg man” indeed.)

– Actor 2 predominantly plays figures whose masculinity is either queered, problematized, or non-existent. (Fitzjames, who crossdresses, who carries his legacy like a woman’s beauty – easily lost over time; Lady Silence, who is rarely if ever treated like a woman within the narrative, but, in fact, is one; Hickey, whose queerness and violence are intertwined; and Jopson, whose life is defined by dedication to a career that places him in feminized roles.) Peglar, despite his sexuality, is one of the more traditionally masculine characters this actor plays, but what can I say, Peglar is fragments, and fragments, as we know, are gay-coded. Stanley is also, on first glance, a more masculine outsider, but the gender binary of live men and dead men prevails in this show, and Stanley’s been dead inside since long before he ever set foot on Erebus. This is also where one might argue that the flogging to which Morfin alludes is a punishment for sodomy, and that mentioning it to Goodsir is a specific attempt to find a kindred soul, and/or an attempt to flirt.

Other interesting parallels: Fitzjames and his masks, both literal and metaphorical, and how those masks are desecrated by Hickey along with Fitzjames’ body and boots; Hickey and Jopson as the opposite ends of the spectrum for father/son relationships with Crozier (I know this means we can’t have that Hickey & Jopson scene – I can’t account for it, I’m sorry too!). But back to Fitzjames and Hickey, this parallel also makes interesting sense re: the two “triumvirates” in show (Franklin & Fitzjames & Crozier and later Hickey & Goodsir & Crozier) because, in contrast to Franklin and Goodsir who are representatives of the British empire, Fitzjames and Hickey are places where the British empire is most visibly broken, Fitzjames because of the lies he’s had to tell about his origins, and Hickey because he’s the eternal outsider, literally trapped outside the tent. (Well, and the lies Hickey’s also had to tell about his origins! Though that’s his own damn fault in many ways.) Also, Fitzjames is technically “Crassus” in his triumvirate, and he does play on tropes of wealth and privilege and inane military campaigns in the east, but he’s mostly, actually Cicero, mutilated by Hickey/Antony, who also steals his mask – aka boots/severed head – to prove his cruelty and co-opt power.

This actor has to do A LOT of work, as a friend of mine once said. But also they play all three of my favorite characters, so I adore them.

– Actor 3 predominantly plays Crozier. (Crozier is the main character of this narrative, we can’t avoid that; he’s part of both triumvirates, and a vast number of the significant scenes include him, so his actor is stuck playing just Crozier much of the time.) Apart from that, however, I love that one of the natural overlaps is for this same actor to play Collins, whose connection with dreams and visions parallels so interestingly with Crozier’s foresight and foreknowledge.

Note: Because of the tragic structural limitation of “one setting only.” I’ve not included any of the characters back in England, apart from James Clark Ross, since he does eventually make his way out to the Arctic. If I were to include the contemporary England scenes (omitting the flashback scenes), it would have basically this set up:

ACTOR 1 (overlaps with Franklin) = Lady Jane, Barrow Jr.

ACTOR 2 (overlaps with Fitzjames) = Sophia Cracroft

ACTOR 3 (overlaps with Crozier) = John Ross, James Clark Ross, Dickens

Actor 3 is potentially the most interesting of these, because Crozier doubles with James Clark Ross re: life experience (Antarctic hand tremors!) and with John Ross re: being a harbinger of things to come. Actor 1 is intriguing also, though – less, I think, for doubling Lady Jane with her husband, which I do ultimately like quite a lot, but also for the other parallels offered, e.g. Lady Jane and Goodsir. (Did you know Lady Jane once dissected a giant squid? Goodsir would have loved it!)

This has been your “a Terror-obsessed classical scholar tries to make a tv show into a Greek tragedy” hour – thank you for joining me!

#look I know this is insane #but it was a lot of fun #the terror #the terror amc #terrorposting

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