Who: Crozier and Open
What: Sad man has a sad drink or two
Where: Various places on the Barge, including the dining hall, Crozier's cabin on Level 3, the library, the deck, the greenhouse, and the lounge. Not the counseling office though; he won't be That Guy.
When: Before the port on the 14th
Warnings: Alcoholism and addiction, Franklin Expedition horrors like starvation and disease and frozen corpses



It isn't as though he's been actively looking for a drink. Before this moment - ever since Flotilla really - every time he's looked at a bottle he's thought of his men. Specifically, his men lying dead, frozen and wrapped in canvas, or dragged across the sharp shale clawing with bloodied hands towards the nothingness on the horizon. The dead wouldn't allow him to indulge or wallow in self-pity. He couldn't be that same selfish prick that hid himself away in his cabin while they were all still rotting away on King William Land.

But now. Well. Now they're saved, and so he isn't hurting anyone if he has a drink or two. He doesn't anticipate how quickly it takes hold though, or how impaired he'd actually feel by an amount that wouldn't even calm the shakes.

He goes about his daily business still; he refuses to be that pitiable drunk, and he's still duty-owing to Hilbert and that giant plant in the middle of the greenhouse. That, and his job in the Counseling Office, are the only things keeping the melancholy from consuming him completely. He has Things to Do. He has people to care about.

It's just a drink here and there, that's all.