hadriel_logs | Event Log: The Hope of a Child

Who: All characters participating in the event
What: The event log for the The Hope of a Child event
Where: All over the city!
When: January 23rd-Feb 1st
Warnings: Youths

By now, the gods have probably done enough weird crap to you while you're asleep for you to be a little suspicious- but it's not like you can just not sleep, especially when there are a few supernatural forces making your eyes droopy and your body feel heavy.

And now, when you fall asleep, you'll wake up somewhere else and you'll likely have quite a different temperament- you'll be younger, maybe a little more naive and innocent, and you won't exactly remember all the wild stuff that's happened to your adult self. Maybe now you'll be a little more trusting and emotional, hm? The gods could definitely use a little boost in power, and what better way to do it than to harness the power of overemotional kiddos!

Or maybe you aren't affected at all and find yourself surrounded by youths. What are you going to do when your best friend doesn't know how to cook for themselves? Or your bitter rival is throwing a temper tantrum because they broke their favorite toy? Nobody asked for this kind of responsibility, but think about what would happen if nobody was around to take care of these babies...

► This log covers January 23rd-Feb 1st.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well!
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you trip over a kid and die, please let us know here.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

And there's another question that's difficult to answer. As much as Carlisle has been trying to think of this alien child as someone completely and utterly different from Glacius... he gets the distinct feeling that's not the case. The how or why of it has plenty of potential solutions -- the gods' latest schemes and machinations come to mind first and foremost -- but the what to do about it is complicated, at best.

"You're Glacius... aren't you?" he asks quietly.

That gets the little alien to brighten up immediately. "Yes!! You do remember me!" he squeaks, but then his smile dims for a moment. This is important. "But I... don't remember you... and I feel like I should. You know so much about my people, you know me... and I feel... safe around you. I never thought that I would feel safe around an outsider, so... you must be important. So why can't I remember?"

And how he actually frowns, the expression one apologetic and remorseful. He wants to understand the connection that he feels to this strange being—and he doesn't want to hurt said being through his inability to do so.

Glacius' remorse is hard enough to stomach normally; seeing it on the face of a child version of him makes the pangs of empathy impossible to ignore. Carlisle places his hand atop Glacius' at his knee, offering this figment from his partner's past a reassuring smile.

"It isn't your fault, my friend," he says. "This place... sometimes strips of us our memories. They will come back to you in time. They always have."

Or at least he hopes so. The gods' influence has always been temporary before, but that doesn't settle his nerves by much.

This time the little alien doesn't even flinch as Carlisle lifts his hand; he just watches as it comes to rest over his, then stares for a good few moments. It's warm, even a little painful without his microweave, or all the tolerance he's built up as an adult, but he doesn't try to get away. In fact, after a moment he leans over and wriggles a little, hoping that the human will let him into his lap.

"How can it do that? This place... it's bad," he murmurs as he does so, looking up to Carlisle again. What a strange-looking thing he is—pale and squishy, with all his fur on top of his head, and a strange device over his eyes. They're so different from each other, and yet outside of his parents, Glacius doesn't think he's ever trusted anyone more. "It feels all wrong. Shouldn't we try to get away?"

"Well—" he starts, only to stop as the child scoots even closer -- he leans back reflexively, and apparently, that's all the invitation needed to end up with a little Glacius in his lap. Unsure what to say or do about it, he tries to finish his thought.

"Er, right," he tries again, straightening his glasses. "It isn't that people haven't tried to get away, but they don't know how. And for some, home isn't- um."

Carlisle does his best to maintain his reassuring expression, but it falters nonetheless. "Home... isn't really somewhere we want to be, not without those we've met here."

The little alien looks up at Carlisle, confusion clear in his eyes; he wants to ask the human why that is, but remembers the lessons his parents taught him about not being intrusive. So he frowns and directs his attention towards attempting to situate himself in the human's lap, relieved to be able to shelter himself against the first helpful being he's come across here after hours of being alone and afraid. He might not be able to get away with this normally, but the cold of the room around them more or less offsets the discomfort and the danger of their differing body temperatures.

So, more or less nestled against Carlisle's middle, Glacius once again cranes his neck back to look up at the human. "But... what about the people that do want to leave? They should be allowed. I don't know how I was brought here, but someone must have done it. So there must be a way, right?"

Glacius' optimism, even in this childlike form, is encouraging. A bit naive, Carlisle believes, but... encouraging nonetheless. He carefully puts his arms around his young friend, uncertain of how tightly to hold onto him. His lips tighten as he tries to soothe that ache of loneliness already wearing at his heart.

"That's right," he answers softly. "If there is a way in, there must be a way out. Unless it's a- another plane of existence, of course, like the Land Beyond Living, but I suppose that's... ah. Getting a bit too specific."

While he'd be afraid of any other outsider attempting to wrap their arms around him like this, the young Glacius actually seems relieved for the contact from Carlisle. He's been seeking comfort ever since the clergyman walked in, and this seems like he is finally providing it; that the human might also be taking some sort of comfort from holding him hasn't quite occurred.

"You can travel between planes," the little alien responds, "You just need the right equipment. I don't know exactly how it all works... I'm still learning about that sort of thing, and probably won't get most of my lessons on that until I'm older... but I know it's possible. So we shouldn't give up! Don't give up, okay?"

That request sounds vaguely familiar even to this younger version of Glacius. Even if he might not understand the full ramifications of all the things they have discussed and pledged themselves too, he still stares into Carlisle's eyes, trying to make sure the human knows this is serious.

Don't give up.

Carlisle's gaze flicks downward once more, and is caught by that of the alien child in his lap. The younger Glacius looks at him earnestly, his belief so strong that even Carlisle can feel it: it resonates within the Mote as a truth he wants to accept, but finds it difficult when he's been so resigned to his fate for years, over a decade now.

Perhaps there is a way to travel the planes, one other than the sole method he has heard of in myths and legends; perhaps there isn't, and the child before him is so blinded by the optimism of youth that he has yet to discover the truth. Whichever it may be, Carlisle feels himself wanting to believe it... and that is a feat in and of itself whether or not Glacius -- as an adult or a child -- realizes it.

His arms tighten into a gentle, but genuine embrace. "I will try, my friend... thank you."

Event Log: The Hope of a Child

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