![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Polar Explorer RPF - Prompt Post 1
This is for prompts for all things general Polar Explorer RPF.
If you've filled (or started filling) a prompt, please make sure to link it in the comments of the Fills Post. And if you would like to cross-post your fills on AO3, here is the collection!
Under this umbrella you can prompt:
Prompts in line with adaptations of Heroic Age stories can also fit here, for example if you want to specifically prompt Hugh Grant!Cherry from The Last Place On Earth getting wrecked (which someone really should).
No blorbo too obscure for this post! EXCEPT: NO PEARY ALLOWED. God I hate that guy.
Rules:
Regular view: https://coldboys.dreamwidth.org/925.html
Regular view, last page: https://coldboys.dreamwidth.org/925.html?page=999#comments
If you've filled (or started filling) a prompt, please make sure to link it in the comments of the Fills Post. And if you would like to cross-post your fills on AO3, here is the collection!
Under this umbrella you can prompt:
- Historical versions of Franklin Expedition(-adjacent) guys (Rossier, Gore/McClure, etc)
- Madhouse at the End of the Earth/Belgica Expedition
- Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration - Shackleton, Scott, Amundsen, Mawson
- Andrée Expedition
- Karluk Expedition
- etc
Prompts in line with adaptations of Heroic Age stories can also fit here, for example if you want to specifically prompt Hugh Grant!Cherry from The Last Place On Earth getting wrecked (which someone really should).
No blorbo too obscure for this post! EXCEPT: NO PEARY ALLOWED. God I hate that guy.
Rules:
1. Be fucking nice. YKINMATO/KINKTOMATO at all times.
2. This meme is CNTW (Choose Not To Warn) but warnings are highly encouraged.
3. Prompts should use this format in the subject line: [SHIP], [DESCRIPTION]
e.g.
Mertz/Ninnis, sex crying
Solo gen can be prompted as well alongside (a) character name and description
e.g.
Gen, Emil Racovitza, discovering a crazy new fish
4. Fills should use this format in the subject line: FILL: [TITLE], [PAIRING], [RATING], [ANY WARNINGS]
e.g.
Fill: The Very Next Day, Cherry/Birdie, E, cw self-harm
5. One prompt per comment please.
6. Multiple fills for each prompt are welcome!
7. You don't have to be anon for your prompts or your fills but we do encourage it because of the vibe. You're also welcome to deanon your stuff by posting on AO3/Tumblr as you please!
8. Feedback on prompts and fills is AWESOME; please take longer conversations to the discussion post.
NavigationRegular view: https://coldboys.dreamwidth.org/925.html
Regular view, last page: https://coldboys.dreamwidth.org/925.html?page=999#comments
Flat view, first comment: https://coldboys.dreamwidth.org/925.html?style=site&view=flat#comments
Flat view, most recent: https://coldboys.dreamwidth.org/925.html?style=site&view=flat&page=999#comments
Top Level view, first page: https://coldboys.dreamwidth.org/925.html?style=site&view=top-only#comments
Top Level view, last page: https://coldboys.dreamwidth.org/925.html?style=site&view=top-only&page=999#comments
wuzzles/wwi u-boat captain whose ship he sank
(Anonymous) 2022-12-19 12:44 am (UTC)(link)FILL: U(boat) + Me, Worsley/U-boat captain, G
(Anonymous) 2023-09-25 11:00 pm (UTC)(link)Reminisces of Alfred Arnold, Captain, UC-33, German Imperial Navy
Of the collision and the sinking, I remember nothing. The first thing I recall is being doubled over coughing up water, my ears ringing and head pounding. It took me several moments to notice that someone was sat beside me, supporting me and delivering firm slaps to my back. When the choking finally subsided I slumped over with my arms on my knees, utterly exhausted. There was a blanket around my shoulders, and the hand remained on my back, a reassuring pressure.
“Stennie, pour us a brandy, will you?” The man beside me said- or at least, that was what I later determined the words must have been. At the time, I only registered that the voice was speaking English, and that my submarine must have been sunk.
At this realisation, I sat up to see where I was, which turned out to be the cramped wardroom of a P-boat.
“Ah, that brought you round!” the man said cheerfully.
My first impression was of bright blue eyes and a broad grin in the tanned face of a man who had spent his life at sea. He was strong and compact, and moreover conveyed an immediate sense of warmth and camaraderie, rather than the disdain or triumph one might expect from a victorious enemy.
The man to whom he had spoken turned at the sound of his voice, and also offered me a friendly smile. He was tall and square-jawed, and I found myself wondering if all English ships were crewed by such handsome men. He came forward with glasses for all of us.
“Congrats on your victory, Wuzz,” he said, raising his glass to my companion, then, to me, “and commiserations to you, my friend.”
I gave a nod of acknowledgement and gratefully downed the liquor. It worked wonders for clearing my head and restoring my senses, so I was finally able to properly greet my hosts.
“I believe I must owe you gentlemen my life,” I said. “I thank you.”
The man called Wuzz gave a wry smile.
“I’m afraid I was also responsible for sinking your U-boat,” he said, “so don’t be too grateful.”
“My men–” I asked suddenly, “are they–?”
He shook his head grimly.
“I’m sorry. You were the only one to come to the surface.”
I bowed my head, thinking of the sub’s massive weight carrying twenty-five good men into the deep, and how narrowly I had avoided such a fate. The crew, with their gallows humour, already called it a metal coffin.
“I suppose,” I said eventually, “we may call it even. I believe my vessel has sunk at least thirty of your ships.”
“Thirty!” Wuzz exclaimed, “That seems excessive, old chap!”
I felt some pride at this, and hastened to assure him that I had not been personally responsible for more than six.
“That’s not bad for a young man,” he said, still smiling. “You can’t be more than thirty yourself.”
The appraising way he looked at me almost made me want to blush.
“I was twenty-six in February,” I told him, then, remembering my manners, “My apologies, I have not even introduced myself. Captain Alfred Arnold, SM UC-33.”
“A pleasure,” he said, proffering his hand. “Frank Worsley, PC.61. This is Joseph Stenhouse, my second in command.”
I shook hands with both of them.
“Is he always this charming to prisoners?” I asked Stenhouse, who laughed and shook his head.
“You know, you are our first. But I think Wuzzles here could charm the Kaiser himself into a peace treaty, given the chance.”
Worsley nudged me with an elbow.
“This is why I keep him around, you see? The flattery!”
I laughed along with them, and felt touched to the core that they were treating me not just with courtesy, but drawing me, a stranger and an enemy, into their private jokes. At that point, the adrenaline of my adventure must have been wearing off, for I suddenly remembered that I was drenched to the skin and gave a violent shiver.
“That will never do!” Worsley exclaimed. “Come on, let’s find you some dry clothes.” He gave me another appraising look. “I think you’re built more along Stennie’s lines than mine, perhaps he’ll be good enough to lend you something?”
------------------------------
I dined with Captain Worsley that evening, as we steamed our way toward Ireland with the ship I had torpedoed in tow. The thought of what would await me on shore was weighing on my mind- imprisonment, sitting out the rest of the war, my crew’s families and my own all ignorant of our fates.
I did not wish to sink into a gloom after Worsley had been so courteous, but I could not help asking, “Have you ever lost a ship, Captain?”
His smile turned sad.
“I have, as a matter of fact. Not very long ago.”
“What happened?”
“Well, she was trapped in Antarctic pack ice and crushed. Not a very glamorous end.”
“The Antarctic?” I asked eagerly. “You cannot be speaking of Shackleton’s expedition?”
He beamed at the mention of the explorer’s name.
“The same! I’m surprised you’ve heard of it.”
“Your blockade is not so good that we receive no news of the outside world, sir.” He let out laugh, and raised his glass to me in acknowledgement of a point scored. “But I am honoured to meet such an accomplished explorer,” I added, and proceeded to draw the whole tale out of him. He was modest about his own role, but he could not tell the story without making clear the vital part he had played in bringing the whole expedition home safely.
I cannot say that this was the moment I began to feel attracted to him, for to my chagrin that had been almost immediate, but the glowing way he spoke of his comrades certainly cemented it for me. Moreover, I don’t know if you have ever had your submarine rammed and nearly drowned, but a brush with death will certainly make one feel grateful to be alive.
As we sat there, knees bumping under the tiny table and Worsley laughing and animated, I began to feel that I might like to do something about that attraction. The way he had eyed my physique earlier had certainly made me feel that such an advance might not be wholly unwelcome.
----------------------
It was with deep regret that I allowed myself to be taken out of Worsley’s custody upon our arrival in Britain, but I was grateful for the opportunity to send a small token of my thanks. Not only was the silver whistle the only item of any value I had on my person, but I hoped it might remind my new friend of other services performed by my mouth. I do earnestly hope that we will meet again after the war, and I may have the chance to return his truly incomparable hospitality.