Entry 2. The New Articles of HMS Terror

[goingtobeunwell]

It has become apparent, with more and more new arrivals by the day, that our current situation will not be as temporary as some might have hoped.  Our provisions appear to be stable, but if we are to live together in such close proximity - which we seem destined to now - there must of course be an equitable assignment of duties. 

The first order of business is the assignment of cooking duties. I assume we would all enjoy partaking in hot meals daily, so I am proposing two be served - one in the morning, one in the evening. Lieutenant Jopson can manage provisions and oversight of the actual cooking, of which we should all take part lest we survive on stale biscuits and Poor John. 

[This is scribbled in later, as though Crozier was trying Very Hard not to think about it:] It should also be noted that we have access to spirits aboard Terror. Each man or woman who wishes to imbibe may have one ration of either rum or wine with the evening meal. 

Second order of business is the removal of ice and snow from the top deck. It must not be allowed to accumulate. Our situation aboard Terror is precarious, and should the ice pile up too high the whole deck just may collapse on our heads. It must be a daily chore, and we must all share the duty of clearing it. 

Lastly, until it can be determined that the creature in the ice will not attack, we must have a watch. No more than an hour at the time for those unaccustomed to arctic temperatures. Proper outwear will be necessary if extremities wish to be kept. 

Linens and clean crockery seem to replenish, but I must insist on a clean ship.  To whoever left the library in the great cabin in disarray - do not let it happen again. 

I also do not expect any man (or woman) who has not enlisted to follow the Ship's Articles, but there will be order.  Until such time it becomes necessary to change them, these are the Ship's New Articles:

1. The doors that are locked must not be unlocked. 
2. No man or woman shall purposely harm another. 
3. Shared provisions may not be hoarded or destroyed for whatever reason. 
4. The medicines in sick bay are not to be handled by anyone other than Mr. Goodsir, or a medical assistant he sees fit to assign to added duties.
5. Do not eat from the tins. 

Defying these rules will result in punishment. [Which he leaves at that.]

I expect you all to volunteer your time to keep our ship running in an orderly manner. 

Capt. F.R.M. Crozier

Comments

[lieutenantsteward]

Are you certain that an hour is a short enough time?

- Lt. Jopson

[goingtobeunwell]

You have a point. Let's discuss it.

Dress for the deck.

[lieutenantsteward]

[Instead of answering, Jopson is up on deck, feeling back at home in warm coat, comforter, and slops with his wig.]

[goingtobeunwell]

Crozier's got his gaze on Erebus, spyglass carefully hovering over his eye so as not to touch his skin.

Part of his stands there trying to will a signal back from the ship. Come on, Fitzjames. Don't leave me here by myself.

He hears someone walking on deck with heavy boots, but doesn't turn around.

"Ah, Jopson. Glad you've come. How are things below?"

[lieutenantsteward]

"Warm, sir." He stepped up beside him, though he didn't need to wonder what he was looking for. The Erebus, of course.

[nextrightthing]

[Have some very fancy handwriting, Captain.]

I'm happy to help however I can, Captain. I'm not used to doing nothing. I can bake, but I have to admit that I haven't done much cooking. I'm willing to learn, though!

~Q. A.

[goingtobeunwell]

Your offer of assistance is greatly appreciated, Your Majesty.

I'm certain Jopson would be willing to show you to our provisions. Our stores are not by any means extravagant, but if you can bake biscuits you will find us all very grateful.

[nextrightthing]

I've never made them before, but I'm sure I can figure it out! Why can't we eat the tins?

[goingtobeunwell]

They'll make you exceedingly ill, madam. The tins were improperly manufactured, and the food inside is either rotten or poisoned by the lead soldering.

[kingsroads]

[ Strange knows he should apologize for leaving the library in disarray (though he would protest that it was minor disarray, thank you very much). He just...won't. Nnnope, let's keep that to himself. ]

I doubt we'd survive if forced to rely solely on this Poor John. My cooking leaves much to be desired!

[ not taking responsibility and forcing bad jokes on the captain, Strange truly is a menace. ]

What sort of medicines are there in the sick bay? I have some skill at herbalism and preparing tinctures, though I doubt it's the sort of thing that could be much use to our Mr. Goodsir.

J. Strange

[goingtobeunwell]

You would have to ask Mr. Goodsir. One never knows where our talents might be applied.

[You can't excuse yourself from work by saying you're bad at things, buddy. But nice try.]

[kingsroads]

[ A for effort! ]

I'll seek him out in the sick bay then.

Though I do have another question: why shouldn't we eat from the tins? If it's a matter of trying to spare our taste buds then I can assure you sir, I've unfortunately eaten much worse.

[goingtobeunwell]

The tins are either putrid or poisoned, depending on which unlucky hand you’re dealt.

[bestsir]

Sir:

In the matter of Punishment, surely you do not intend might I speak with you for a Moment at your Convenience?

-HDSG

[goingtobeunwell]

Of course, Mr. Goodsir. I am in the great cabin presently.

[bestsir]

[ A moment later, Harry knocks on the door. ]

[goingtobeunwell]

[Crozier waves Goodsir into the room. His teacup’s empty but he’s indulging in a pipe and the relatively fresh tobacco from the ship’s stores.]

Mr. Goodsir, come in, sit.

[adaptiveimmunities]

What's wrong with the canned stuff?

[goingtobeunwell]

The Royal Navy gave the contract to supply our expedition to the lowest bidder, resulting in repulsive, rotten food from poorly-sealed, poisonous tins.

Avoid them unless desperate.

[adaptiveimmunities]

Ah.

Well, points to government being the same in absolutely all eras. i feel like that should surprise me a lot more than it does. Thanks for the heads up.

[goingtobeunwell]

There is comfort knowing that some things don't change.

[fishandclips]

Captain, I will help however I can. My name is Mahir Gowda; I am a journalist at home, and run a newspaper.

[Look. LOOK. It kills him to call it a paper, but he knows the captain won't have aaaany frame of reference for a new site and this is as close as it gets.]

[goingtobeunwell]

Mr. Gowda, yes. [Jopson's told him aaaaaall about your obsession with illnesses and bleach.] Thank you for volunteering.

[fishandclips]

Of course. Things will be much smoother if we can work together. What can you tell me about this creature you mentioned?

[goingtobeunwell]

We call the creature Tuunbaq. It's a massive creature that resembles a white bear, but it is intelligent and vengeful.