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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.
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Lecointe/any, petplay
(Anonymous) 2023-01-26 01:12 am (UTC)(link)Re: Lecointe/any, petplay
(Anonymous) 2023-01-26 02:26 am (UTC)(link)Oust the cook => become the cook
Oust the cat => become the… catboy?
Anyway I love and support this concept for Lecointe. I was so mad at him but now he is my little meow meow who has done something wrong aND MUST PAY 😿😾😼
FILL: An Indoor Pet, Lecointe/Racovitza, petplay
(Anonymous) 2023-03-15 07:34 pm (UTC)(link)The ship was unnaturally quiet, for nearly half her complement was missing. When she hove to for the night and Lecointe at last put his sextant and chart paper away it was with a sense of loss—he wished dearly to keep working, for the sun was still out and would stay out for days yet, and if they could all simply remain awake then who knows how many more miles of territory they could explore, in the time before the men on Brabant Island boarded the ship again? The commandant would be overjoyed and full of praise for their dutifulness; the published maps would fill feet upon feet of shelf space; names of their dearest friends and family would mark every mile.
But, alas! none of the men remaining onboard were of the same mind as him. The promise of the eight-hour day was important to them—none so much as that socialist, Racovitza, who treasured his free evenings with a savor so intense as to terrify.
The man did not go halfs about anything: not work, nor education, nor lesiure. He lit his pipe and filled his lungs; he got out his well-thumbed Flaubert and chortled loudly at each chapter; he scribbled on sheets of paper until they were filled to the margins with absurdity.
Each and every endeavor he entered into, he did so fully. Just so: Lecointe, entering the wardroom; Raco, meeting him with an expression which seemed to occupy not just his face but his whole body. A grin from head to toe, an eager inviting beckon which began at his crooked finger and flooded out to the wide sprawl of his legs.
Lecointe, hesitating only a moment, dropped to his hands and knees and crawled forward. Raco held his eye, nodding as he came to him.
“Handsome puss,” he said, stroking Lecointe’s hair as Lecointe butted up against his leg. “Such a sweet purr for me. Let’s hear it.”
It felt wonderful. Of course it did. But Lecointe was—he realized with a wrench—far too sober for it. He could not relax. He squirmed; doubting his capacity to endure, he tried to get away. Raco snatched him by the collar and hauled him up onto his lap with ease.
“Now, don’t misbehave,” he said, pinching at the sensitive skin of Lecointe’s nape. “I shall make a proper pet of you yet.”
***
Last night, the first night of the rest of the officers’ absence, they had both partaken beyond their usual ration, and Lecointe blamed their shared state on how easily he had been persuaded into this. It had made sense at the time.
Raco had been complaining about a strange phenomenon. With the rest of his roommates gone on their trip, and Arctowski’s snores absent in particular, he had been able to hear quite clearly through the bulkhead the scurry and squeak of what sounded to him like dozens upon dozens of rats.
He eyed Lecointe, pointing at him with his pipe. “And we know who is to blame for that, eh?”
“You mean—”
“Your crime.”
“Ah. Right.”
“We ought to have put you on trial for that, you know.”
“It was a lapse in judgment,” Lecointe mumbled. He did feel bad about it; or rather he supposed he would, if he had given it much thought, which to be quite honest he had not. He had forgotten it, truthfully, especially after what happened to Wiencke. The loss of a cat paled in comparison to the loss of a man. He may have been at fault for both, but one surely would weigh heavier on his soul when the time came to meet his maker.
“One which I haven’t forgiven you for.”
Lecointe gave a dismissive sniff.
“Look, how would you feel if I kicked you over the side of a ship, just because I was in a terrible mood and you were in the way? You are a very delicate creature. You wouldn’t last long in the water, would you?” Raco slipped a hand around Lecointe’s narrow wrist and held it up; then pressed his palm to Lecointe’s, displaying the disparity in their sizes.
“Well, I am sorry about the rat problem. But we do have another cat.” Lecointe snatched his hand away.
“Nansen is a poor mouser, and a poorer pet. He hides and skulks and is quite ugly. Rarely if ever does he allow himself to be stroked. Why—even you would make a better cat than he does.”
“I don’t like that look in your eye."
Racovitza drained his glass (his fifth, perhaps?) and said. “An idea,” he said. “You can absolve yourself of your sins, by taking up the duties of the dear departed creature.”
“What?! That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it very? No, I think it’s sensible. Man kills cat; cat’s absence causes problems; ergo, man solves problems, by committing to community service, in the rôle of aforementioned feline, duties including vermin hunting, lap-warming, silent but pleasant company for lonely biologists...”
Having been enumerating on his fingers, he ran out. He stared at his hand for a moment, going a bit cross-eyed, and then said, “Ah. I shall demonstrate.” Without further ado he leaned over and began pushing his fingers through Lecointe's hair: petting him, even.
“You like that, don’t you?”
He did like it. Very much. He shivered, all over; slowly slumped forward onto the table and allowed it to proceed.
And so the fuzzed thought came through the haze of wine and the unbearably pleasant sensation of Raco’s touch that one form of absolution was as good as another. Raco in his imaginative way may have hit upon the the very thing that might see him clean in the eyes of God.
***
He swung the bat with a roar; the rats scattered, but could not escape his frenzied determination, as he hunted them to each dark corner and battered them into submission.
A cat, of course, would be doing so with teeth and claw; but Lecointe’s indulgence had limits, and it did not matter how he accomplished his duties, only that they were accomplished at maximum efficiency. Swing, splat. Swing, thud, swing, splat. Ah, if only he had real artillery…
Mid-mania, Somers entered to inquire if perhaps the Captain needed help with his project; Lecointe barked a dismissal and the poor fellow scurried away with as much fear as if he himself were in danger of facing Lecointe’s weapon, which was the same venerable, bloodied club used to put peace to penguins and seals.
When at last the massacre descended from fever pitch, and not a squeak or scurry could be heard in the hold, there were at least two dozen rats lying dead on the cold deck. Lecointe’s face was slick with sweat; his chest heaved with effort.
The sight was satisfying, but not altogether impressive. A cat would have done it dancingly and gracefully; Lecointe had needed to exert a great deal of excess energy for the same result. Still, he felt somewhat lightened, having done his duty.
***
“What are the qualities of a good cat?”
“Well, how should I know—”
“No. Shh. I’ll tell you. Small and fit, not too loud or fat or lazy. Industrious, loyal. Balanced and healthy. Pretty and well-groomed.”
“Mm.”
“Affectionate, willing to be touched, willing to provide comfort.”
“Mm?”
“Come closer, put your head right here. Yes, how is that? Good? I won’t stop, and you may fall asleep, if you like!”
***
Rat carcases went into a makeshift sailcloth bag and from there into the furnace, where they disappeared without a trace.
Lecointe made himself presentable with his handkerchief and some clean water fetched from the tank. He was a fastidious groomer in everyday life; but now he felt an even keener pressure to present himself perfectly.
Having selected and saved from the fire, with some nervousness, the fattest dead rat from the lot, he carried it discreetly in hand through the parts of the ship still populated by the men. Raco was not in the wardroom: Lecointe went up the ladder to the structure on deck which housed the biological laboratory.
It was after hours, so presumably Raco was not working—although perhaps he was, having discovered some vital new organism during the day, and would have no time for Lecointe. The thought sent an uncomfortable jolt of dismay through him.
The door swung open at his knock. “Monsieur Lechat, this is unexpected!” Raco took the proffered rat from Lecointe with a grin. “You have been hard at work, have you?” He ruffled Lecointe’s hair and beckoned him inside.
“Let us see…” The creature was immediately subjected to the naturalist’s scalpel. It split into petals of viscera, revealing its glistening red innards to his discerning eye. Lecointe stood at rigid attention, watching.
“I pronounce this rat entirely and satisfyingly deceased. Cause of death—well, it was entirely healthy, up until a certain point, when it met a most marvelous beast, unmerciful, armed with the mandate of Heaven to wreak destruction… Ah, gallant deeds by a valiant creature deserve their reward.”
As it had each time, the mere act of dropping to hands and knees produced in Lecointe a kind of moral agony, but the shrieking of indignity produced by his mind was drowned out nearly entire by the shivering anticipation of Raco’s touch. Such fine and nimble fingers—ah, Sverdrup, you will never know their glory! I shall subject myself for your sake, and forgive me, forgive me!
But the expected stroking did not come. Instead from his pocket Raco pulled something which glinted in the light—a pot of raspberry preserve?
He must have known that it was Lecointe’s favorite. He fed it to him off of his fingers, one dollop, which Lecointe licked off with quick stripes, then another, which in an entirely un-feline manner he took into his mouth and sucked greedily.
Raco was surprised. The generous sound of his laugh gave Lecointe satisfaction; and at last he gave attention to Lecointe’s back, his flanks and his neck, rubbing and scratching in such a delightful, attentive manner. It melted into him. Coiled thoughts loosed, and slipped away. Perhaps he meowed.
***
“I present to you: The replacement of the ship’s cat.”
The men, returned just that morning from their island journey, roared with laughter. In the center of the wardroom table, Racovitza’s daily caricature presented an absurd scene: Lecointe, with a fluffy tail and furry ears poking through his uniform and hat, staring down an approaching fleet of rats with bared teeth.
“Excellent, excellent!” cried Cook in English. “Your fertile imagination always impresses,” Amundsen offered, which was high praise indeed coming from him. Raco preened.
“Imagine that!” cried de Gerlache, wiping his eyes. “It’s funny because—ah, he is a cat, but also, you see, a man! Oh, it suits him, I think!”
Lecointe, flushing, met Raco’s lively eyes across the table. “Very amusing,” he said. “But rather unrealistic, I think.”
***
Because it amused Raco so, he scratched at the door of the laboratory to be let in; because it pleased Lecointe so, Raco allowed him to rake his bare back with his nails, digging and kneading, until Raco gave out yelps of delighted pain; and because it was what both of them enjoyed very much, he took Raco’s thick yard into his mouth and applied himself, Raco's hands tightening in his hair and tugging him eagerly forwards.
Yes, I killed the cat! But look what I have done to atone! I am useful, and good company! I am a better cat than the cat was, I daresay! The cat did not do this!
Re: FILL: An Indoor Pet, Lecointe/Racovitza, petplay
(Anonymous) 2023-03-16 03:39 pm (UTC)(link)Lecointe's backwards Catholicism logicking himself into being a cat boy, Romantic Rat Bludgeoning, Raco's new cartoon... extraordinary, inspiring.
Also Lecointe's final "could a cat do this?? [sucks dick]" moment is an eternal delight.
Re: FILL: An Indoor Pet, Lecointe/Racovitza, petplay
(Anonymous) 2023-03-16 08:23 pm (UTC)(link)“Imagine that!” cried de Gerlache, wiping his eyes. “It’s funny because—ah, he is a cat, but also, you see, a man! Oh, it suits him, I think!”
Perfection!
Re: FILL: An Indoor Pet, Lecointe/Racovitza, petplay
(Anonymous) 2023-03-18 10:13 am (UTC)(link)Just pure hilarity and also, hot.
Re: FILL: An Indoor Pet, Lecointe/Racovitza, petplay
(Anonymous) 2023-12-27 06:41 pm (UTC)(link)