singillatim | I'd sit there and look at the deserted lakes and I'd sing

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I'd sit there and look at the deserted lakes and I'd sing

MARCH 2024 EVENT

PROMPT ONE — EXIT STRATEGY: With the way via the main road a no-go, Methuselah finds a potential and very dangerous way out of the Milton area: the Milton Mines. During the Aurora, the Interlopers must find a way to safely navigate the mines and find a way through.

PROMPT TWO — BRAVE NEW WORLD: Interlopers make their way into the Lakeside area, and are free to explore the more of the Northern Territories: a place of both industry and leisure.

PROMPT THREE — THE ECHO: On Aurora nights, the aftermath of the Darkwalker's attack on the Interlopers continues to ripple through the community — with a painful affliction.

EXIT STRATEGY

WHEN: Mid-month.
WHERE: Milton Mines.
CONTENT WARNINGS: claustrophobic situations; potential injury/maiming; potential electrocution/electrocution injuries; potential burn injuries; hyperthermic situations; exploration horror;

Unusually, Methuselah returns to the town around the middle of the month. He is looking pleased and will ask that the Interlopers gather in the Community Hall. Once gathered, he climbs onto the small stage at one end of the Hall and explains that following last month’s Feast, he set out to try to find a way out of Milton, and he believes he may have found a way out.

He goes on to explain that although the Milton Mine has been closed for many years, there may still be access through the mine. The mine had two entrances through either sides of the stone, one on the Milton side since many of the residents worked the mine back in the day, but there was also an additional entrance on the opposite side, which led to a railway track that allowed easier export of coal and precious materials towards the coast. Having gained access, he believes the mine seems to mostly remain intact, but not easy to get through. However, he discovered that during the Aurora, the old mine and its electronics came to life — meaning a way through is certainly possible during those times with the added electronics in play.

It is not much, and it is certainly incredibly dangerous, but it is something. There is certainly no way out towards the south; towards the north might be the Interlopers’ best chance of finding a way out of Milton.

Methuselah will ask for any volunteers to join him in trying to find a way out via the mines, taking them up north and then waiting for an Aurora to happen before they can then make their way through and explore the mine system. Anyone is free to sign up, and he suggests someone drawing up a sign up sheet so that Interlopers have an idea of who is leaving the town on the journey.

The hike towards the mines is a long one, taking a few hours on an incline to reach the northern mountains. Waiting on the Aurora may take time, so setting up camp is the next step — waiting for night and hoping the skies fill with night soon. Interlopers are free to explore the mine beforehand, but will find a lot of it locked up tight. With areas unreachable without power and the darkness suffocating, they won’t get very far.

When the Aurora does finally come, the mine will come to life: the system’s lighting will come on throughout, albeit flickering and a little unreliable. Machinery and track systems whir and groan as the mine slowly cranks itself into functioning once more. While there are maps of the system to help Interlopers navigate the system — showing a second entrance labelled as ‘Lakeside Entrance’ — the true difficulty in getting through lies in wait.

Interlopers will find that parts of the system have been partially flooded: with the frigid water in places mostly ankle deep and others reaching no higher than knee-high on an average-height man. What’s worse, is the half-destroyed electrics ravaged by both time and the Aurora mean plenty of loose wires hanging here and there. It’s possible to accidentally catch yourself on them, meaning burn injuries and mild electric shocks — but care should be taken in checking if these wires may have fallen into these flooded parts. Stepping into these live waters will be far more deadly. They will also find that the electronically-powered gates that open through into areas may not function, with the fuses having been blown.

Gaining access through the mine is not impossible, however. It will simply require a little bit of legwork. One of the larger caverns of the mines houses a fuse board. Characters can switch off sections of the mines in order to traverse them safely, find new fuses in toolboxes scattered through the mines in order to open the gates and make their way through to gain access to the elevator of the mine — which will also require new fuses, in order to power the electrics to get it to function.

It is perhaps, most frustrating, that once Interlopers get the elevator working and head downwards into the final section of the mine, that they will come across hand-cranks — allowing them to use the elevator without the need for electricity. But at least the hard part is over, and the Interlopers now have a way through from Milton that doesn’t require relying on the Aurora to power the mine’s electrics.

On the lower section of the mine, there will be a handful of more gated rooms to get through before reaching the Lakeside Entrance, and more wires and flooded areas to traverse. But you can taste it: something on the air. You’re close.

You’ve made it, Interloper.

BRAVE NEW WORLD

WHEN: Mid-month, onwards.
WHERE: Milton Mines (Lakeside Entrance); The Ravine; Lakeside area.
CONTENT WARNINGS: themes of exploration/survival; themes of peril; acrophobia; potential character/npc death from falls; potential injuries, potential cold injuries/hyperthermia risk;

Coming out of the mines, you will be greeted by a small mining camp and railway track enclosed by mountains on both sides. It’s incredibly sheltered here, with little wind chill and not as much snow on the ground compared to some of the more open areas of Milton. It may be best to rest here for the rest of the night. There are several portacabins that were used to house some of the former miners, along with additional cabins with one being some kind of foreman’s office, one that served as a kind of mess hall and one for bathing/toilet needs.

While there is little in terms of supplies left in there, some scraps may be found here and there — plus the cabins will provide decent shelter from the cold, which may be the last Interlopers will get ahead of the long walk down through the mountain track and into Lakeside. There is also plenty of coal left lying around, too — allowing for Interlopers to craft fires to keep warm. Even with it being sheltered, it’s still cold out.

In terms of where to go from here, the only way seems to be to follow the track. It’s a long walk, but rather straightforward if you keep to the tracks. A good few hours of it, but it’s quiet — and there doesn’t seem to be much in the way of wildlife or windchill here. It almost seems too easy, or as easy as it could be in regards to a long walk through thick snow.

Until you come face to face with the ravine.

The world opens up to you, with the tracks stretching over a huge valley via a… mostly sturdy-looking wooden and steel bridge. There doesn’t seem to be any way around it, no alternative route of getting over to the other side. Crossing the bridge is the only option. Care should be taken, with Interlopers now being vulnerable to the wind and the snow-laden tracks. As sturdy as the bridge looks, it seems to creak and groan under the weight of a single footstep. There even appears to be the remains of fall train-carts in the depths, from some unfortunate incident years ago. It’s probably fine.

Crossing the bridge and continuing down the tracks will eventually have the world opening up even more — you’ve finally reached Lakeside. Thick boreal forests crowd around the tracks, and in places, Interlopers will note that the tracks have buckled and become badly damaged. When they find roads, they will also find them in similar states of disrepair from beneath the snow. Following them for another hour or so will eventually lead to Lakeside’s Maintenance Yard. From here, there is a road, with directions: signs pointing towards Milton, the Coast, Lakeside Resort and the Carter Hydrodam.

For those interested in searching the Maintenance Yard, they will be greeted by a large, fenced in building. Fortunately, a great deal of the fencing has been damaged with the bad weather and it is easy enough to gain access. The place is a bit of a mess: scrap metal, wood, and dissued trucks and cars litter the yard, along with wood that can be used for kindling and firewood. Inside the Maintenance Yard, it is a little bit of a mechanic’s dream. There’s plenty of tools in this place, and even a forge which could be used for crafting if someone has the patience to fire it up and keep it hot for long enough. There’s plenty of stores of coal, at least. But in terms of a living space, there’s not much else other than a small break room with some comfy chairs to catch some quick shut-eye. Searching the Yard for any letters or such will reveal a similar theme to that of Milton: difficulty in reaching the Mainland with postage and correspondences, the lack of staffing, and the problems with wildlife. There are also complaints and concerns over growing dangers of small quakes causing damage to the roads and rail system.

Following the road towards the Lakeside Resort is a mostly quiet and pleasant enough trek, as long as one keeps close to or on the road there as much as possible. The Resort is largely secluded, even if it is around the actual lake itself, and it’s easy to see just why this place would have been a popular vacation place.

The resort is a collection of a dozen luxury cabins dotted around the edge of the lake, each of them with a decent amount of space between them for privacy. The cabins themselves are sturdy and well built, but look far more modern and almost designer in terms of style - with huge almost floor to ceiling windows and spacious porches for that perfect lakeside view, and open plan rooms and balconies. Each of the cabins contain multiple bedrooms, suitable for vacationing families and mix both modern technology and more rustic means of heating homes — making them ideal for all weathers.

A couple of the cabins are not completed, appearing to be a kind of expansion of the resort that was not finished. Build materials still remain here. Some of the cabins on the furthest side appear to have become victims of vandalism, having been broken into and completely trashed with windows smashed, furniture missing and broken, and any goods completely ransacked from the place. There are perhaps five cabins out of the twelve that remain fully intact and may contain useful items such as food, basic medical supplies and tools, and will certainly be excellent shelters for those looking for somewhere to stay.

There is also a Camp Office, situated at the east side of the lake. Used as a kind of main office of maintenance for the cabins, along with an office or tourist centre of sorts. It has a decent stock of hiking and outdoor essentials. The Camp Office does also have a small living space upstairs — presumably used by Lake staff or rangers, with a wood stove and kitchenette, along with a bathroom and several bunk-beds. It appears that the Camp Office wasn't abandoned until a short while ago — no more than a couple of months.

Following the road to the Hydrodam is a trickier one than the one to the Resort. There is a higher volume of predator wildlife here, with wolf howls closer and more frequent. With the current state of wildlife’s behaviours, it is likely to face attacks from wolves on the way there. The Carter Hydrodam has clearly seen better days. It seems to have fallen into disrepair and may have only been run by a small skeleton crew. While the Hydrodam is gated and locked up tight, it’s possible to break in through the gate and gain access.

While the lower dam is currently out of bounds, Interlopers will be able to get into the upper levels of the main building of the Hydrodam, which consists mostly of offices, maintenance rooms, a medical bay, and rooms banked with control panels, plus staff areas. The med bay is relatively well stocked, but might need a little forced entry with certain medical lockers and cabinets. Tools and other useful items can also be found here, along with bunk rooms, a small canteen and bathrooms/showers. It might be possible with some work to get access to hot water here — the showering systems run on a back-up furnace system, and while some of the pipes are broken, it might be possible to fix them to get the hot water system up and running again.

Following the road to the Coast will find a dead end. The bridge that heads over towards that direction has been damaged beyond repair, and there looks to be no way of getting around it. Perhaps, much like with getting out of Milton, there may be an alternate way of getting further south, but time will tell.

But for now, here is an entirely new region, ripe for the picking. While it appears some places have already seen minor scavenging (with the exception to the vandalism and looting of some of the resort cabins), Lakeside is largely untouched. It is full of game to hunt, an expansive lake to take up ice-fishing in, and indoor locations to search through for supplies. Some Interlopers may decide to stay here permanently now that it’s easier to travel between Lakeside and Milton.

THE ECHO

WHEN: Aurora Nights, the month of March.
WHERE: Everywhere
CONTENT WARNINGS: supernatural/otherworldly afflictions; themes of grief; themes of loss

There are roughly no more than ten Aurora nights during the month of March, and everything occurs as usual: the insanely bright colours swirling in the skies before you, the crackles and pops of static in the air providing percussion to the strange, ethereal chorus of almost-electrical sounds. The electrics of the world around coming alive with its usual sputtering and falters. There is much mystery to these strange, almost supernatural phenomena — but they almost feel like a kind of staple in the Northern Territories.

But on these nights something different happens.

If you listen closely, the sound of weeping can be heard on the air. Those with the Aurora Call Feat will be particularly drawn to the sound, and will hear it more clearly compared to their fellow Interlopers. It is the sound of a woman, and those paying attention might be able to recognise the voice it belongs to: it is the same woman heard over the static of radios and televisions in December and early January. The same woman that spoke to Interlopers, telling them to sleep, with the promise of help — thus granting some of them powers. It is the same voice that screamed out the night La’an Noonien-Singh died, and the night of those recently killed in the church.

She is… grief-stricken. Her weeping is a raw and anguished thing, and the more you listen, the more it seems to grip at you. You feel her pain, maybe it echoes within your own. Those you have lost, those you have failed or hurt — a reverb that grows stronger as the night continues. It is an all-consuming pain, its depths endless. It brings tears to your eyes.

You carry this pain, as she does.

You feel it in your very bones, in your flesh and sinew. It’s an exhaustive pain, and as the night progresses, you find yourself incredibly weary. In a strange state of fatigue that won’t even allow you to sleep.

You may find yourself going in search of comfort amongst friends, or loved ones. To hold a hand, to embrace them — to not be alone in this pain you feel.

But it is a pain that is too great.

On these nights, you will find yourselves alone, without the comfort you would otherwise lean on. You will not be soothed by that comfort of others. For as long as the Aurora lasts, reaching out and touching others will bring real physical pain to you. It will hurt to touch others, and physical contact will produce a sharp biting pain, even for those who may not feel pain otherwise. Too much. It’s… too much.

Some of you were told once, in a dream: “Don’t you understand it now? We are all connected. The Aurora connects us.”

Once the lights in the sky fade, that pain will finally ease and the woman’s sobs will go quiet — but it will return once more, when the next Aurora comes.

FAQs

EXIT STRATEGY

1. It is entirely possible for NPC Interlopers to die in the mines due to electrocution, and players are free to use NPCs — we ask that players give mods a heads up so that the masterlist can be updated accordingly.

BRAVE NEW WORLD

1. The lower dam is currently completely physically impossible to access. The door that leads there is jammed shut. Characters will notice half-frozen water leaking on the floor around the door.

2. It is possible to find bodies in Lakeside, however there is a... suspiciously low amount of them, and the rare ones found by characters will have been there for some time. They will have appeared to have died of exposure.

3. Wolves can be found in Lakeside, and their tracks are incredibly common. Interactions with wolves can happen in the exploration of this region, and they will behave much like they did during the September event and be incredibly hostile to players.

4. Bears are also common in Lakeside, and their tracks can also be found. They technically should be still hibernating, and much like wolves — they will be aggressive towards Interlopers. Keep your distance!

5. Lakeside unlocking comes with a Companion Event of an Interation with a new NPC!

THE ECHO

1. Essentially: physical touch with others will bring Interlopers physical pain. Sorry about that.

2. It is possible for Interlopers with Aurora Call to attempt to reach out to the woman. Those interested can inquire into what that interaction may be like! They can find out what that entails here.

PLOTTING POST

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Crozier kicks some snow over his small, dwindling fire and then turns without a word, decidedly not reaching out to take back the parka. He doesn't need it as badly as Raju does. "My cabin's not far, we'll go there."

His feet, god, what to do with Raju now? As clever as he can be about makeshift tools and procedures, there's nothing he can think of that will work to cover his lower extremities. They just have to walk as quickly as possible and hope that he didn't do too much damage to himself.

He needs to sleep, and Crozier's determined not to let him out of his sight now. He'll tend to any frostbite, put up with the potential fight when he tries to get him to lie in front of the fire, and then feed this stubborn man.

It takes another moment for Raju to follow the gesture, and the fact that Francis expects Raju to come with him. There's no discussion about it; it's only something that's already happening. A little of the tension drains out of Raju and he starts walking after Francis, pulling the coat around his shoulders now and clutching at it over him unselfconsciously. His gaze moves to the sky, the sunlight almost growing there, and to the lights above, lighter now but not quite gone. And the sobbing. His eyelids flutter, jaw tensing.

It isn't coming from him. It isn't his. This regret and failure, his long, earned list of cruelties and pain, it's a weapon used against him now, and he is going to resist it. Remember that he's separate from it. Something like this isn't going to defeat him.

He puts his head down against the wind, shuddering as it hits his fingers and his face, and tries to pick up his pace enough to walk beside Francis, see him in the corner of his eye. He leans closer to him, then remembers the beings that drive this place are using more than one weapon against them tonight, and straightens his course and his posture again.

"Damned pain in the ass," he mutters, half to the man beside him, half to himself. "Can't even touch anyone. What a stupid curse."

Raju’s not the only one ruing this particular setback; Crozier itches to pull him against his body, to keep him warm, offer some sort of physical comfort instead of just fraught words.

He grunts softly in agreement and picks up the pace, hoping Raju can just keep himself upright until they reach the cabin. He’s strong, he can see this, but even a strength like Raju’s can waver until a constant onslaught of cold and emotional torment.

Up ahead the ramshackle cabin appears, a dilapidated little beacon of hope.

Raju doesn't walk any faster when they see the cabin. His aches are going to ache; his body feels the way it always feels after a fight, after pushing himself as hard as he needs to and coming out the other side, and all it means is that he's won. The cold is hateful, but the cold here is always hateful and he'd been working hard sitting on that hill to separate all of it, the memories tearing at his mind and the bitter sharpness on his skin, the heavy, sick nausea, the various pains sitting in their various places, and then himself somewhere inside next to all of it. It hurts, but all of it hurts, and relief is going to mean sunlight filtering into the sky. Not bright, the way he's learned not to hope for here, but there some place behind the clouds, washing all the unnatural light away. Inside is only the place that Francis is going to be.

Time is strange, since he'd... calmed down. Raju doesn't know how long between that moment and the one where the cabin is in front of them. He'd been focusing on walking. He's used to being very certain on his feet. Confidence in the movement of his body and the placement of his feet usually is easy.

There's another blur, a series of moments. Now there's wood beneath his feet and the sight makes Raju slow, something picking at him. The floor is clean, more or less. It's the contrast of it. He grunts softly to himself in realisation, heads back to the doorway, and lowers himself with another grunt and a heavy thud as he hits the wood. The snow is cold in his hands. The cut looks like it's scabbed over his palm, mostly, so maybe washing his feet like this here will be alright. He doesn't have anything to wash with but snow. Maybe it'll do.

It's been some time since Crozier's returned to his cabin, all that trekking back and forth between new areas to try and figure out where he belongs. Belonging has always been an issue, really finding a place that feels like home where he's needed and wanted, and it's the same fight all over again. Where does he fit into all of this?

Does he really fit, or is he just trying to fool himself?

But the little hunting cabin feels homey enough, though as he steps through and rushes to start the fire back up he realizes that there's been some changes to the interior. Meager furniture's been moved, books that were stacked now scattered all of the tables, his pots and pans not where he left them. He'd assume it was a straggler just using his cabin as they passed through, but then he notices that some of the smaller holes in the walls have been patched.

He looks down at Raju with a soft, charmed smile. Good.

He can't touch his friend, which is annoying in a way that makes him want to tear his hair out. It's all settling; he needs to settle for placing warmed water by Raju or clean cloth to wrap around his hands and feet. He has to settle for placing the wolf and caribou blanket on the floor and hope that Raju will find his way into bed. He can only settle for watching him tend to his wounds or offering him something to eat and drink.

Raju frowns at his feet, picks out pebbles and rocks and scrubs as well as he can, washes his hands as well as he can in the snow after and then stands, slow and shuddering. It takes him a moment to remember to step further inside and shut the door behind him and then his gaze moves to Francis, skipping over the rest of the place. The sky isn't quite as dark outside the windows, but even that doesn't get much of his attention; it doesn't occur to him to look, or to wonder what Francis might have been doing while Raju was distracted.

"You're alright? You were..." He grunts, grimaces down at where a thumb is pressing into the scab on the opposite palm, tries to still his fingers and tries to remember what it was that he'd been saying. There'll be no hiding the state of his throat, will there? Not with his voice like this.

Focus. He'd been asking a question. "Um... You were travelling. You just got back, didn't you? And then this. Your ribs..."

It's like marching, isn't it? The only kind of travelling that they can do in this place? And Francis is older, and was still healing. If Raju hadn't worried he'd burn everyone alive by accident in the tight corridors of those mines—

A good thing he'd worried, isn't it? He sighs, keeps his mouth closed as the sigh turns into a little cough, keeps frowning at Francis. He'd meant to ask for news of the place that the rest of them have been, but it's hard to care about any of that just now.

Tea, he'll need some tea for that throat. There's a tin cup somewhere, he just needs to find it in all this disarray...

"Jostled, but they held up well," he tells him. If it takes his mind off of everything else, he's happy to speak enough for the both of them. "Followed the train tracks for a while, found the broken bridge. Did a little ice fishing. Came back here to look for you."

Because he'd been worried, and he'd missed his company. Not about to say that out loud quite yet, and -- ah, there's the cup! "Once you've inspected your wounds and had something to eat and drink, I want you to sleep."

Came back here to look for you. It makes Raju's eyes sting again, and his vision blur just a little. For a moment, he doesn't know why. But it's a strange night, and the inside of him is strange, and he doesn't want to wonder too much about it. There's nothing left inside him that he can pull from to try to figure it out.

He looks around instead. Water near where he'd been sitting, cloth the right size and shape to use in place of gauze. He hadn't noticed it there until now. He clears a sudden thick feeling away his throat, coughs a little, bends to move the lot close to the blankets, where Francis obviously intends to settle down. He doesn't know why he's moving these there. He's already finished what Francis had wanted them used for, without using them at all. But moving them feels useful, and it would be a shame for them to go to waste, and right now that feels like enough.

"Don't waste the food," he says as the rest of what Francis said makes it through. He finishes setting the water and the cloth down and slides down a wall sitting just outside the blankets. The movement makes him grimace and he shifts around, stretching his legs out just a little more, and settles with an arm draped over his upraised knees. "Wouldn't stay down. Save the dinner for yourself."

Or— he's been outside for a while, hasn't he? He knows that, vaguely. The colour of the sky reminds him. "Breakfast," he corrects himself with a frown, trying to focus on whatever it is Francis is doing. "Whatever it is."

“Then at least the tea, you’ve got soot in your mouth and throat.” He assumes anyway, because he’d been coughing up ash and black soot all night.

The rest of the work he does in semi-comfortable silence, getting the fire roaring instead of merely crackling. He won’t ask for Raju’s help, not having just gotten the flames under control, not wanting to see pain like that on his face again so soon.

Eventually the simple tea is brewed, not rosehip though he does consider it for a bit of a laugh, and he brings it to Raju and sits beside him with his own back to the wall. He’s careful not to touch, minding his distance as he drops his head against the wall with a sigh.

Raju watches him until Francis starts work on the fire, then looks guiltily down and away from the flames. There's not enough left in him to think too much about that guilt, either, so he doesn't. He only doesn't want to look at them. He knows once Francis has finished it, though, once the warmth of it starts to spread and sink in, and once his feet start hurting right after. It's a little like what he feels in his fingers sometimes after pushing himself outside for a little too long and coming in and trying to warm up, only more, so he supposes he's earned it. Still, it starts him shifting his legs and feet around every few minutes, as if some new position will spare him the hot, painful feeling of the warmth forcing its way back. Damned inconvenient, the things that become harder to ignore once other parts of him start feeling better.

He grunts, distracted away from it when Francis hands him a warm cup. Warm from the fire, warming Francis' hand and then Raju's now. The closest they're going to come to touching until the damned night lets up. It's probably going to make his fingers start hurting too, Raju thinks. He wraps his hands around it anyway.

"Quite a way to welcome you back, hm?" he murmurs, after a moment of watching Francis' head leaning against the wall. "I'd meant to greet you some other way. 'Hello', maybe."

Crozier’s eyes are closed. He can feel the air shift around him and hear the rustle of his clothing and the creak of the floorboards as Raju starts to thaw. It’ll be agony for a while but at least it seems he has feeling left; he just wishes he could spare his friend from the worst of it.

He lets himself drift a little in his thoughts. There are repairs to consider, and chores of course, and then he begins to mull over ways he might be able to make Raju more comfortable. The man beside him finally speaks again and —

And Crozier laughs. It catches him by surprise, a soft snort following by some mild chuckling in amusement at how not-funny it is (but by that extent hilarious) until he’s starting to laugh deep from his belly. His shoulders shake and his eyes fill with tears, a little wheeze in his lungs as he holds his stomach with his one good hand.

It’s gallows humor at its finest.

Raju doesn't have enough in him to laugh, not properly, but his shoulders shake and his lips curl up at the corners, watching Francis laughing, and the soft, breathy noises coming out of his throat are enough to make him cough. He curls forward a little with it, with the coughing and the quiet laughter fitting itself around it, and takes a careful sip of the tea to try and calm his throat a little, his other hand wiping its heel at the corner of an eye before what's there can finish running down his cheek.

His friend is laughing, laughing hard, and the flames kept safely in the fireplace are slowly chasing the chill away, and Francis is sitting just there, and all of that sits next to the emptied, grieving places inside of Raju almost easily. It's strange, how strange it isn't. How mismatched all of it isn't. The pain growing in his feet, at least, is enough to reassure him that it's real.

He wants to make it happen again, make some other better joke, but maybe that was all he had. Everything that happened tonight is there behind him, between them maybe, but he can't tell because it's hazy, like the passage of time is just now, like the movement of his thoughts. He glances at a window as he sits back against the wall, shifts his feet again with a brief grimace and an absently uncomfortable noise, and spends a moment eyeing the space between them.

"How long before dawn, do you think?" he rasps. The taste of whatever Francis had used for the tea is lingering in his mouth. The thought is there and then it moves on, making room for bigger things. "I want..."

He catches himself just in time, as much because he doesn't know what words to use as because of the surprise of finding himself trying to use them out loud. What is it that he'd want, anyway? The stabbing through him whenever they'd touched is something Raju's ready to see the back of, but he can't think just now if any of the directions that the thought's pulling him in are the kinds of things it's acceptable to actually ask for. Maybe they aren't. He isn't at his best; it wouldn't be too strange if he'd forgotten where the boundaries are.

He makes a soft noise in lieu of whatever the rest of the sentence was going to be, flexes his sore fingers over the cup, shakes his head. That will be enough, won't it? That first sip of tea sits heavily inside him, but not too heavily. He looks down at the cup warm in his hands, wondering if it might be safe to try a little more.

His side aches like he'd just done a bunch of climbing or lifting, and he sits back when the part of his brain that needed the release is finally satisfied. He sighs and runs his hand over his face, muscles loose and posture relaxed from the sudden realization that the tension within him is gone. They're both inside now, the electric pops from the Aurora overhead gone entirely now that they're reaching morning.

Crozier turns his head slightly. Raju's lips aren't blue, but they're red and chapped. He stares at them for much too long before shaking his head softly. He's probably craving sleep after such a terrible night.

"Not long, I can see light through the trees," he tells him. "It's all stopped."

The wailing, the amplification of pain, seems to have faded away with the Aurora. "You can rest now."

Raju looks up from the cup, blinking a moment to focus on him. He frowns a little, surprised; that hadn't occurred to him. Trying to sleep. He breathes a slow breath out, shifts around, assesses himself and then shakes his head. "I'm used to the rest of it, but not my feet. I don't know. I should..."

He should be able to sit up straight, hold himself up and clear his mind again. Separate himself from it. At the thought he slumps a little further against the wall, shifting around again onto one hip, swallows and grimaces and watches his thumb running hard around the edge of the cup instead of thinking any more about it.

"I'll probably stay awake. I can't focus enough to ignore it yet. It'll probably keep me up." He grimaces, as much at admitting it as at the feeling itself. It isn't what he wants to think about. He takes a slow breath, coughs a little, holds the cup of tea Francis made tight enough to feel its warmth and for a moment only looks at him. He opens his mouth, to say...

The words aren't there, just like they weren't there before. He runs the heel of a hand over his chest absently, contenting himself to moving just a little bit closer, shifting around again to close the distance between them a couple inches and get his back against the wall so he can slump sideways. "But you should get some sleep. Those blankets there, that's where you usually spend the night, isn't it?"

He can tell Raju is struggling. Struggling to think about anything but the pain, struggling to keep his mind still, struggling to just…

He turns slightly, very carefully placing a finger against his arm. He braces himself and waits. And waits.

Nothing, no sudden sharp bite at the touch, no pulse of electricity as though lightning had been called down by the aurora itself. Crozier instantly feels a weight lift from his chest, the burden of not being about to touch. Hypothesis proven correct, he pushed himself off the wall and sits directly in front of Raju, taking one of his feet into his lap without hesitation.

“You’re thawing,” he says, “quite literally. Your bones and muscles are starting to warm; you’re feeling the pain of circulation now. I have a method to warm them more gradually, but it involves placing your feet in cold water until everything’s properly thawed. But feeling pain is good; if the tissue were dead you wouldn’t feel a thing.”

He looks down at the finger on his arm as Francis does, waiting—

Nothing, not this time. Raju looks back up with a smile spreading brightly over his face, one that fades a little at the surprise of the way that Francis moves afterward, and fades a little at the grimace that flickers over his expression at the pressure on a part of his body that's already too full of too much other feeling. But Francis has already settled that way, and Raju doesn't mind; he did it so quickly he must have been already thinking about it, already waiting for a chance to help. Something vulnerable, surprised, moves over Raju's expression when he realises it.

At least Raju had taken the time to wash them off.

He meets Francis' eyes again and nods, acknowledging the danger he's escaped there, that the pain is something to be grateful for. Mentioning that other method before it almost seems like an offer, but Raju can't bring himself to ask for it. He can deal with it this way, so he will. Everything else is in Francis' hands.

"That would be frostbite?" he clarifies, one hand braced on the floor at the way his posture had shifted when Francis had picked up his foot. Speaking is starting to irritate the rough inside of his throat and he tries to clear it, coughs, takes a drink to ease it that's a little larger than he'd meant to and puts the cup down, grimacing, when the mouthful of tea hits his stomach. He swallows once, then again. But his hands don't know what to do with themselves; his thumbs and fingers rub slowly over each other and then he picks the cup up again, hands held tightly around it. It's even harder than ever now to keep himself still and he tries to focus on the question, the friend in front of him, the touch that isn't quite what he couldn't bring himself to ask for but isn't quite not, either. The leg not stretched out to Francis' lap curls slowly and then stops as Raju stomps on the urge to shift around more.

"If the tissue was dead," Raju goes on, determined to focus on the topic instead of his body. "How could you tell other than that? They weren't feeling much before, outside."

“The skin would turn bone-white, then black.” He’s inspecting Raju’s feet for this exact thing, realizing perhaps two moments too late that this might be considered somewhat over the line. But he’s concerned, and surely that alone gives a man some leeway to overstep things like personal boundaries.

Once he’s finished his inspection of the first foot he gently sets it down and begins the process again, looking for spots that might seem alarming. Again, nothing to indicate that he’d have to lose the foot or even a few toes.

“I don’t see anything like that here,” he finally declares. “You were lucky.” And yes, he’s going to hurt, but there’s not much Crozier can do for the pain but attempt to distract him. At least it’s physical pain, and not the anguish he had to watch him suffer through.

He tries to offer a smile and then pulls the furs up, resting his feet on one of the blankets and covering him with another from feet to waist. There, comfortable no, but at least cozy and cared for, and it’s the best he can hope for in the moment. He wishes he would at least try to sleep, and almost opens his mouth to suggest —

Well. Sleep two to a sack, like the orphans they are. When had he said that? Was it with Little and Jopson, before the latter had become too ill to join command meetings? It had been dire then, but this isn’t dire. Raju is remarkably intact from his horrendous time under the aurora.

It surprises him too much to do something about it; it doesn’t occur to him to do anything until it’s done. Francis is practically tucking him in. And this after the careful attention paid to finding any injury in abused skin, not minding the imperfect method of cleaning with snow, or the places Raju’s feet have been—

How long has it been, since someone has tried to put him to bed this way?

Uncle, maybe, when he was old enough to try to act like a man, but too young to be quite there yet. He remembers the way it had annoyed him. Or maybe Seetha when he was ill or exhausted, and too close to sleep to be sure of what was happening. It’s been a long time.

Raju’s eyes are wide, then he tries for an amused, polite smile. He isn’t sure he really gets there.

“These are yours,” he points out, trying to focus more on putting something like a teasing tone into his voice than on his stomach or his feet. He tries crossing his legs, finds it doesn’t give the relief he’s looking for, uncrosses them again and shifts to sit on one hip. His thumbs trace the rim of his cup, and one finger starts tapping at the edge of it. “Where are you going to sleep?”

Good question. Very good, slightly uncomfortable question, though it isn’t apparent to him yet why that might be the case.

“If you didn’t mind sharing half, there are plenty of furs to go around.”

He says it and immediately feels like he’s said too much, but offsets these feelings of discomfort and confusion with a very casual shrug and a smile.

“It’d be better to take advantage of a second person’s body heat,” he continues, and again, has no idea why he keeps talking. Well — he does know, and it’s the same reason he was never able to woo Sophia or keep many friends. He’s a stupidly awkward human being sometimes, no charm to speak of.

It's hard to remember what the rest of the night has been. It's hazy, and something in him can't make it anything else. If he tries to call the details too closely to mind, he only feels tired. Trying pulls on that emptied out place inside him, and the attempt doesn't go any further than there.

Maybe if he could remember a little better, he'd know why there are tears in his eyes suddenly, now. He feels his lips trembling and looks down, trying to press them tightly together. His try for something casual-looking is gone as quickly as that, paper thin in a strong wind. He watches his thumbs move over the cup, sees the blanket pulled up over him — fur, warm and irreplaceable in this place, and put over him without a second thought — and takes a shaking breath in through his nose, trying to keep it quiet.

"It's..." Raju stops and clears his throat. Then he tries again. "I usually don't dream much, when I'm tired. That's how it was at home. But I..."

He watches his tight grip on the cup of tea that Francis made, feels too much still rushing at once into the feet Francis had checked so carefully and the fur on top of them, hears the crackling of the fire that Francis built. Francis knows that the fire comes when Raju dreams, doesn't he? The nightmares. He thinks that he's mentioned it. He has mentioned it. He'll know what Raju means.

He doesn't look up. His voice is quiet, and a little rougher than his smoke-abused throat can account for. "Do you think it's safe? For you. If—"

One thumb against the cup taps faster. "You've risked enough for me tonight."

He's worth the risk.

Crozier hears the tapping, watches as Raju's knuckles turn while unrestrained worry churns inside his mind. He's worth the risk, of course. It's all worth the risk, but him, this man, is worth the risk.

He reaches forward and stills his thumb and fingers, much like he did with his hand against his leg not too long ago. Stilling him, calming him. All is well.

"I know the risk. The fur is warm and comfortable, and neither of us has to sleep on the floorboards. Trust me."

Raju watches Francis' hand on his. His expression is tight, still trying to keep the trembling in his lips in. He remembers a touch like this. He'd thought it'd been meant to keep him still the way he'd had to learn to force himself still, to be an officer, for the English, for high society. But it hadn't been. Not really.

His thumb keeps trying to move under Francis' hand, and keeps stopping itself. His breath shakes into his lungs. Trust me. The hand with the jittering thumb turns suddenly, trying to grasp onto Francis' hand and then letting go to turn a little more, find a better grip, try again. He nods a few times, jerkily. His breath shakes out.

He looks up at Francis' face and tries to smile. Then he takes another breath and tries again, making it broader, more normal, polite. It's a losing battle, trying to seem controlled, dignified in all of this. His grip is tight. He can tell, at least, by the feeling in his eyes that if he holds it off long enough he probably isn't going to cry. He doesn't know why he's acting this way, why the kind of control he'd used to employ every day is so hard.

No one should be seeing him this way. But if it had to be anyone it should be this man, brave enough to risk himself through all of this for nothing but friendship, dedicated enough to want to, and kind.

"I trust you." He'll settle down, set the cup, arrange the furs, any way that Francis wants him to, but not until Francis wants him to. He can't think clearly enough to figure out any of it, how to arrange things or fit the two of them together.

"What should, um. What should we... do?" He frowns after he says it, frustrated with himself. It's a stupid question. He can't think. He can sit here and he can bear everything, but there's not enough else left in him to figure out how to do anything else. But Francis has given him plenty of orders tonight. Maybe he'll be able to still give a couple more.

Crozier has never been more thankful to have only one hand. It’s currently occupied by Raju’s touch, a hold of frozen fingers that he returns tightly, watching as his eyes become overbright and his lip curl in a struggle to keep himself composed. He so desperately wants to take his face into that hand and say with a gentle touch and reassuring smile that he can just be, and never mind the show outward strength.

For who, he wonders. For who is he keeping himself so meticulous and structured, because here in the wilderness, in the quiet of this cabin, Crozier keeps judgement at bay. He watched as his men went through the same struggle, they fought to keep to a hierarchy that just didn’t exist out in the ice. Slowly though, as China plates and books and lanterns were left behind, so too were their reservations.

But Raju’s asked a very good question, what the hell should they do? He finds himself squeezing his hand before detaching himself, eyeing the space available and how much room they’d both be allowed.

They’ll have to share a rolled fur for a pillow and another for a blanket, but it’s more than enough for two people. “When you’re ready we’ll just lie down,” he decides, risking sounding very stupid for such a simple directive. “With our feet pointed to the fire, to help with your defrosting.”

He manages a gentle smirk.

When Francis detaches himself Raju watches him and then looks at the blankets as he talks, nodding. What he says is simple, but it helps. He can't figure out anything that needs to be done, but he can do. Just lie down. He can set things out to make that work. For a moment he frowns at the blankets, very focused.

One thing at a time.

He pulls his legs out from under the blanket Francis had put over him. He looks at the cup in his hand, remembering that it's there, and after a moment realises that he should put it aside. Free up his hand, get it out of the way. Then he lays one blanket on the floor, makes sure it's straight and lying flat, focusing on the certain movements of his hands and not on the strange pain of moving his feet, or the grimace that twitches over his face, or the lurching in his stomach as he moves. A pillow he can do without, but Francis must be as sick of the cold as he is. There should be something between the two of them and the floor. Raju swallows and takes a slow breath, smooths down the second blanket on top of the first, rubs one cheek over his shoulder reflexively at the feeling there, in case he needs to hide any tears. He doesn't think he does. It's good to be sure.

This should be alright. He sits back on one hip again and gives Francis a quick attempt at a smile, then raises his eyebrows. Leading is too much, even in this. Maybe especially in this. But he thinks he can follow.

Crozier manages to watch Raju make a little nest without chuckling to himself. It’s…endearing, yes, that’s the right word. He leaves him for just a moment to wash his face and neck with some melt water, getting some of the soot and smoke off of him so they don’t smell too overwhelmingly of bonfire as they sleep.

He offers Raju a clean strip of cloth with water on it to do the same if desired. “Not to suggest anything,” he laughs.

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