hadriel_logs | Dome Sweet Dome

Entry tags:

Dome Sweet Dome

Who: Carlisle Longinmouth (

tongueamok), OPEN
What: It's a log for the folks who expressed interest in Carlisle's latest gardening project! In short, he made a stupid dome of magic to protect the only two gardens he cares about, and is feeling very good about himself. Make him regret his hubris.
Where: Park
When: November 21st - early December
Warnings: Nothing yet! Heads up for anyone who has met him, but hasn't seen him in the past month: he's a lot more colorful now.

As the days without the gods add up and the city grows colder without power, there may be less and less people braving the outdoors. However, any of those who happen to wander in the vicinity of the park -- or what remains of it, as most of the trees have been removed -- might notice something odd: there are two, translucent domes covering a portion of it, their walls illuminated with a magical energy. Upon closer inspection, one can see the vague shapes of archways and leaves behind these glowing, blue barriers; they're connected to the ground via a stone curb, so any visitors might want to watch their step.

But should someone trip and fall into either dome, they'll find the walls won't keep them out -- they'll slip right through with only a tingling sensation, much like the shock of static, to accompany their passage, the magic wall remaining whole behind them. Within one dome is the memorial park, its various markers and tributes to those who have disappeared from Hadriel protected from the elements beyond the barrier; within the other is a garden, its rows of shrubs, vines, and greenery kept at a comfortable temperature within the magical ward.

And on most days, near the cottage at the center of said garden, one may find the man who conjured these domes, Carlisle Longinmouth. Sometimes, he's pruning away at the twitching, ivy-like vines of his coilers, tossing the trimmings to his pet, Rabbit. At other times, he's knelt near the barrier himself, inspecting the integrity of his magical walls. On more than one occasion, he may be over near a patch of dirt walled off with stones, within it the stalks of still-growing barley. Wherever he may be, there is one constant: he's generally not thrilled to find he has company.

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Where most will be more inclined to seek comfort in warmth, Ravine has no need for such things. She goes where she pleases and whatever interests her, regardless of its temperature. While the shapes under the ice of the lake has been a curious subject of curiosity, she is drawn elsewhere.

Such as the nostalgic field of young barley sprouting underneath the dome. When Carlisle next inspects his work, he'll find the dark and gangly woman crouching within the field, her gloved hands ghosting through the bristles. Although her touch does not make contact, phasing through solid material for now, she somehow carries a rather similar scent to the growing grain despite not being of physical body.

She does not seem surprised by this little reminder of an old, long gone life; merely morose and inquisitive.

"At least these should survive the current clime just fine," Ravine comments, not looking to Carlisle when she speaks; but her own eyes are that familiar golden hue instead of the usual soft brown.

Ravine almost startles Carlisle as he wanders over to his patch of barley, the area just long and wide enough to hide a person if they lied within it -- it was all he could get from the seeds he found, and he was delighted it grew at all. Though he wasn't expecting her, he manages to stifle his immediate surprise, stiffening only for a second as he spots her suddenly among his little field.

"Ah, Miss- Miss Ravine," he greets sheepishly. Given she played a major role in his continued existence, he isn't about to ask her to leave his plants alone, especially when she talks about their potential survival. "Are you familiar with these?"

Being one of the people with magic means that while Taako doesn't have unlimited run of the city, he's certainly got more distance than those who have no recourse against the cold. It's not awful out here yet, especially not for a man who considers a cape and a large hat a necessity, but thankfully he can move fairly freely to see the city put back together.

Which is how he finds this bit of magic, and absolutely, truly needs to investigate.

He looks it up and down, fingers sparking with a bit of magic as he pokes and prods at it, eventually sticking his entire hand through in his investigation. And then just his whole goddamn face, ignoring the weird shock as his face goes right through.

"Holy shit!" There he goes, just sticking his face back and forth in this thing. He doesn't even recognize Carlisle is there. He's just kinda fuckin' jazzed this is happening to him right now- hopefully he doesn't catch the point where he sticks his butt in and just his butt, but knowing the two of them, Carlisle will find the absolute worst time to look up and see who's here to antagonize him this time.

Let's be real, Ravine startles most people when she shows up anywhere. Carlisle most of all.

There is something serene about her right now, however, as her hands do not exactly touch the blades of barley.

"Quite," she hums. "They used to hold a great significance in a city I used to live in. There would be a spring festival called 'Akitu' every year... It would last for twelve days. That isn't to say that the people there worshipped barley for a fortnight; it simply played a significant role."

How is she to explain this, though? Oh well.

Edited 2018-11-26 08:03 (UTC)

Carlisle doesn't notice as his latest visitor prods the barrier. Preoccupied with his pruning, he fails to see this near-stranger's face as it juts in and out of his garden. What he does catch, unfortunately, is the aforementioned near-stranger's joyous exclamation, followed by the entrance of his posterior.

It's in moments like these that Carlisle questions the maturity of the people the Door chooses to bring in. Well, perhaps that is unfair to the majority of Hadriel's captives, Carlisle thinks. It's just this fellow in particular whose maturity he's questioning at the moment.

"Have you nothing better to do than to test the limits of my abjuration ward?" he asks tiredly from his spot among the coilers, their vines inching slowly around his shoulders. Another tendril twitches to life from a nearby arch, reaching toward Taako with a slow, nearly imperceptible movement.

Carlisle raises an eyebrow, and with it curls the corner of his mouth. "This- this is from your world, then? What did you say it is? Is barley the name, or is that a god?"

It might seem like a silly question to ask, but given the plethora of gods in Carlisle's world and his affinity for them, he cannot help but wonder.

Given the superfluity of deities that Ravine knows of that has plagued history, it is not as silly as Carlisle would think. She gives him a warm smile.

"The name. The festival itself celebrated Marduk, the patron god of Babylon."

A particular favorite of the Nebuchadnezzar she knew as the human diviner, Yehudit.

That is a lot of names. Carlisle nods, holding up a finger — one moment — before darting away. He returns less than a minute later with his journal, flipping it to a specific page before uncapping his pen. Upon it, he's already sketched out some illustrations of the new plant -- first its seed, then the initial sprouts, and another drawing for where it is now, leaving the lower corner blank for an addition once it is fully grown.

"Barrrrley," he murmurs to himself, scribbling down the name. His pen darts to the adjacent page to note the other details. "Now this Marduk character -- what are they a god of? Did they choose this Babylon, or did Babylon choose them?"

Edited 2018-11-26 08:36 (UTC)

"What in the heck?"

Rose is no stranger to barriers, which is what she assumes this is. She's actually dressed more for the temperate climate inside the dome than outside - wearing short shorts and a spaghetti strap tank top - once she realizes she can step inside.

"Huh." This would be nice around Sorrow's orchard, but considering where it is and that she recognizes some of these plants... Well, she doesn't think she'll convince the maker to extend his efforts there either. Still, she takes the opportunity to nose around and see if she can't figure out just how this is working. Her ki might be different than magic but maybe where there's a will there's a way? She wants to do all she can for her favorite spot so it doesn't die in this frigid climate.

Also, the weed. Gods save them, they need to preserve the weed.

Time is only a blink to Ravine, as Carlisle returns as quickly as he had left. Her smile widens as he speaks the words in his own foreign inflection and expresses curiosity in the religion of the people who had raised her. While raised in the Kingdom of Judah, Yehudit had spent more years in the service of Nebuchadnezzar, serving a purpose she would not have found on the city streets.

She could easily shatter the illusion Carlisle holds of those people's cult beliefs and explain how there was no Marduk. At least, not in the way that scripture carried on. It's important to the priest, though. And for a moment, she is inclined to humor him. If not for a little while.

"He governed the forces of harvest, water, judgment, and sorcery. To the people of those lands, the gods were only as powerful as the cities in which they are worshipped -- so when Babylon grew from the small state to a thriving and powerful city, Marduk was hailed as a supreme god of the southern state."

It doesn't entirely answer Carlisle's query, but it answers enough.

While her own small, sad garden begins to freeze, others are seemingly thriving.

"What...?" Dany raises a hand to the barrier, but doesn't dare touch it. They've just been moved again, after all, and the gods are nowhere to be seen or heard. This could be a defense of the Null, or something else entirely. The young queen exhales, breath visible in the frosty air, before she lowers her hand again. Catching sight of another figure standing not far away, she hesitates before approaching, drawing her cloak more around herself.

"Do you know what this is?" she asks, not recognizing the face, but assuming that this is far enough from one of the Null to be safe...or, safe enough.

It's apparently a good enough answer for Carlisle, who scrawls several words across the page as Ravine explains. "Heh. How interesting it is that deities could derive power from those who worship them, gathering strength as their numbers grew. It's... a bit like here, I suppose."

And there goes that hint of a smile he had, uncertainty weighing on his brow. "They aren't gods here, but the comparison is not without merit. Some worlds, however -- I wonder if there are worlds without gods. What would they be like?"

"Yes, I suppose it is..."

Although Ravine never did held the same abhorrence towards the gods of this place, she is remiss to truly acknowledge their godhood status. It is merely simpler to identify with a name in mind than to label them as the 'Other', accurate that it may be.

She cants her head at Carlisle's musing. "There are plenty of godless worlds out there, or places in which their deities do not play a direct role in the lives of their followers."

The 'gods' of her world may as well be the Emanations, but Ravine is even more loathe to see them as such.

As she sniffs around, she'll find the barrier itself is connected to a stone curb that encircles the entire garden. The stones themselves don't seem particularly magical, or even congruous: some of them are clearly the same type of rock, while others just sort of blend together, eventually taking on their own individual properties before moving onto those of another type of stone. They weren't naturally like this, nor did they originally have glyphs carved into them, circular figures and linear patterns etched into the very face of the stone border. There's energy running through those lines and into the various symbols accompanying them, though whether or not it has to be a particular kind of energy isn't entirely clear.

Not as clear as the maker of this barrier, at least, who comes walking up to Rosie several minutes later, having finally spotted her from across the way. "Do you not get cold in that?" he asks, legitimately curious. "Or is that why you're here?"

Dany happens to catch Carlisle when he's outside the barrier himself, knelt beside the stone curb that borders the entire area. Upon closer inspection, one will find the curb has been etched with numerous glyphs and symbols, each illuminated as they harness the energy necessary to conjure and maintain the walls of Carlisle's magical greenhouse. He's shivering just a bit himself, having left his cloak inside -- he didn't intend to be out more than a few minutes.

But he just might end up in the cold longer than he expected as he is approached by a stranger. He glances her way once upon initially noticing her, then again as she gets closer. Though he turns his attention to her, he remains on the ground for the moment; open atop his knee is a journal, and drawn on the open page are a series of circular arrays, including one that matches that on the stone before him.

He's not thrilled about answering questions in the cold, but he does his best to be polite. "It's an abjuration ward," he answers, only to realize he probably shouldn't assume everyone and their grandmother knows what that is. "Er, a barrier. A bit like a conservatory in this case, but magical in nature."

An ear goes visible through the edge as he speaks, just the tip of the point before the left side of Taako's face comes to join it. Just that part, though. He's trying to perfectly bisect himself down the middle now just to be a real goof about it.

"Haha oh shit, it's you? Man, what is it about shield wizards that make you all so uptight?" Taako would recognize this man's voice from anywhere, because he'll never pass up the opportunity for bullshit with someone who bites back. "So what, only warmth for you, huh? Pretty fuckin' bold, especially for you, fantasy weenie hut jrs. When'd you find time to do all this?"

Carlisle frowns. "I will admit that I cannot imagine what my life would be like without the influence of my goddess," he says quietly, picking at the stained spot on the front of his tabard. "She has been a guiding force in my life, and ever since I discovered my calling within her service, I have been changed. I am not a man of many talents, but healing is..."

He trails off, the corner of his mouth crooking up with his nerves. "Ah, but you know all this."

Carlisle cringes as he sees who the ear (and rear) belongs to, recognizing that voice, as well; he grimaces at being called a 'fantasy weenie hut junior,' because while he doesn't know exactly what that entails, he assumes from the tone that it cannot be meant as a compliment. What he takes the most umbrage with -- and clearly so -- is being called a wizard, his teeth grinding together and his entire body stiffening as though the very word were made of poison.

He bites his tongue, painfully aware this fellow is some acquaintance of Glacius'. For his sake and his sake alone, Carlisle makes his best attempt to behave, despite the obvious displeasure etched into his features.

"I am a cleric," he corrects, getting that out of the way, "and given a month to prepare for our move, I made sure I worked swiftly."

"To protect the plants..." Easy enough to understand, though she has no magic of her own. Dany nods vaguely, glancing back at the barrier before turning again to Carlisle. Clearly this man is cold - and rightfully so - but she doesn't plan to keep him for long.

"Is it possible to cast this sort of thing on a much smaller scale?"

He doesn't know her and owes her nothing, but she can't help but find herself fretting just a bit about the tiny garden she's been nurturing to this point.

It's different. Part of her wonders if this was like the type of magic that Feldspar did, back on her homeworld... He considered himself more of an alchemist though, she thinks. He was always brewing up something with an emphasis on illusions and glamours. The man always had a new look and was always looking for someone to help him test his newest creations. Rose one time ended up with a blue tongue for several days. Not that she actually minded all that much, in the end.

"My kind are impervious to cold," she says, easier than she even expected. "So tundra planet is actually super awesome for me. But I saw this while I was exploring the new place and thought I'd pop in to say hey."

"Is—" Disbelief crosses him for a fraction of a second before the corner of his mouth curls in a subdued, but prideful grin.

"Of course it is," he answers, closing his journal, taking it with him as he gets to his feet. "If I could manage to build an abjuration ward large enough to contain my entire garden, then one on a smaller scale would require but a fraction of its power and construction. I will admit that this one contains the energies needed to maintain the barrier better than I anticipated, but I was certain that with enough experimentation, I would be able to figure out something that would work, lest my plants freeze to death in this new world the false gods have brought us to. Or suffocate in the jungle. Some of them require a very fair temperature to survive, you see."

That smug grin fades in favor of a more nervous one as he suddenly remembers his manners. "Ah, forgive me. I am Carlisle Longinmouth, and I will one day remember to introduce myself properly before rattling on about my plants. Aheh."

It's almost double funny and double the insult that Taako even referred to him as a wizard, considering that's decidedly his title. He did a lot of work to be considered a wizard- this isn't just praying to a god nice enough to give you power. He had to earn it, thanks.

Not that he thinks that way about basically any clerics, ever. Except now for Carlisle, because it's so fun to watch his face turn red.

"Ooh, a cleric, how fancy. I stand by what I said, every abjuration specialist I've ever met is a mess of rules and notebooks, full stop." He finally steps all the way in, putting his hands on his hips and observing the area. "So you put it over what, the park? Not your house? Are you gonna live here now? Also, you know everyone can see it and jam their hands in here. You didn't hide it, uh, at all."

"I didn't intend to hide it," Carlisle cuts back, his teeth still grinding together. Some of Taako's assessment of him -- a mess of rules and notebooks, in particular -- is absolutely correct, even if some of his other assumptions are painfully far from their marks. Carlisle is, unfortunately, an anomaly in many ways, even in comparison to those from similar worlds.

Still trying to shake off the initial insult -- honestly, some people were never taught what you should and shouldn't call someone in public -- he remains in his spot as Taako looks around, his eyes never leaving the elf before him. "My house needn't the warmth my plants do." Also, his icy roommate would prefer it be cold, but that's neither here nor there.

'Longinmouth' nearly draws a laugh, considering his...speech, but she settles for an amused half-smile.

"I am Daenerys Targaryen." She commits his name to memory, along with a few details that she notes in this meeting thus far. "I can see that you are...passionate about these wards."

He's clearly intelligent, and a man possessed of more than a few abilities. Magical, technological...or both, as she's realizing is the case in many instances within Hadriel.

"I have a small garden of my own, and - it's not important to the city, but I would like to keep it from being destroyed, if that is as easy as you say. I would be happy to trade something in exchange for your help."

"So you're not one of those people nice enough to broadcast it, but not selfish enough to hoard it. What's even the point then?" It's dubious anything he says is something he actually means by this point, but that's most conversations with him. "Guess you're not doin' enough to save that orchard Rosie was soooo workin' hard to get runnin' again. Did you talk to her?"

He's just idly looking at the plants now, starting to formulate a plan in his head of how he's going to get a certain plant into this biodome. "You can be mad at me all you want, but what has she ever done to you?"

If Taako is hoping to play upon Carlisle's conscience, he'll find the clergyman has more than enough guilt already; he'll have to get in line.

"She knows where my garden is," he answers flatly, his eyes narrowing just before he turns his back to the elf to head further into his garden, the coilers around his shoulders releasing him without much strain. He has work to do. "And should she wish to speak with me, she may do so herself. The orchard is not under my purview."

"Ah," Carlisle replies, his expression softening just a bit before he responds in kind. "Hey, then."

And with that, he goes about his work as he steps around a section of shrubs that are walled off by themselves, their leaves covered in a fine, white dust.

"I will admit that, my garden aside, I had a preference for this planet of the choices the false deities gave us."

'Passionate' is certainly one way to describe him. He is, unfortunately, not nearly as enthused by the idea of extending his efforts beyond his little world.

"Well, the ward itself is the easy part," he starts with a sheepish glance, "now that I have honed the glyphs for it. The actual construction is more difficult, depending on the size and shape of the area it would need to cover, as it requires quite a bit of stone-melding for the barrier."

And if there is anyone who doesn't look like he's fit to carry a bunch of rocks from one place to another, it's this guy right here.

Well. It's certainly a step up from before, so- She'll take it. Rose seems pretty pleased with the simple greeting, honestly, and kind of trails after him as he works.

"Oh yeah? How come?"

"I see." So, it's impossible, or so she assumes based on what he's said. "It's very small, but I have no experience with stone-melding. I'm afraid I won't be of much help."

It's all right, though. She can always start a new garden when they are in a more hospitable environment.

"Thank you for your time," the young queen offers, beginning to gather herself up. "I wish you good luck with your wards and similar efforts."

Look at these two. Assuming the other is better than they are. Wonderful.

Taako trots in after, because he'll be here until he's kicked out just for the sake of causing a scene, but isn't disturbing anything other than the other man. He has a certain fondness for plants thanks to his own cleric. "Look, my man, I'm just saying. What's all that uh, great power whatever? I'm not saying you have to get it all stocked, I mean, whatever on that right? but you won't do it for the plants?"

Her lips pull into a grave simper. Indeed, she does know, but that does not take away from her desire to learn things from others the natural way.

"It is a gift not many are blessed with, to know with certainty where their life's work lies. Mine only came to me after I died."

Losing her head, to be exact, but now doesn't seem like an appropriate time for decapitation jokes.

His frown widens with discomfort as she talks so candidly about her death.

"That certainty gave my life only a modicum of direction," he admits. "And yet, even knowing my talents, I have been a remarkable failure on many fronts."

He paws at the back of his neck, curious. "Do you know what that is like? Does your prescience allow you to see that, as well? To feel it?"

"They are plants provided as one would feed for livestock," Carlisle remarks dryly as he passes under another archway, the vines on the structure reaching slowly for him, then for Taako once he is past. "These are my plants, and I have a duty to them. The orchard has plenty who would look after it, and some of them no doubt magicians."

He might be a bit of a recluse, but Carlisle has no illusions about being the only magic user in town. His inferiority to most of them, given his proclivity for healing and nearly nothing else, is a knife constantly in his back, a blade twisting at his spine and feeding his embittered behavior. Save for his occasional feats of glyphcrafting, Carlisle is painfully aware he has very little to offer anyone in comparison to many of the casters in town.

But in truth, he does have much he could offer, and has long been blind to it for fear of failure. Proud as he may be of his ingenuity, he reminds himself — constantly— that it could fail at any time. That he could fail. If he ruins his garden, it's only his plants that suffer. People can't depend on accursed beings like him, he's told himself for years. Perhaps one day, he'll learn otherwise.

"You are a magician," he continues softly. "You handle it."

A strange, weary laugh escapes her. "Failure is a fact of life, Carlisle. Some make more mistakes than others, but we are all prey to our own faults. Myself included."

Ravine has failed others on more than one occasion. Even in life, as a diviner, she was not the best towards the end, when madness overtook her. When the threads of reality became impossible to discern from one another. From where she's standing, Carlisle has managed to accomplish much more in his short life than she ever had as Yehudit...

"As you can imagine, it differs from the individual. Some die more traumatic deaths than others, and require more time and care to contend with. I believe this is why the delivering of souls has been tasked to those of us who have died as well -- we are more capable of understanding the dead, having died ourselves, and oftentimes not in pleasant ways."

"I have lived in a jungle before. They're sweltering. Dangerous."

That statement is followed by a nearly imperceptible shudder, one that runs the length of his neck and down his spine. He tries to ignore it and focuses on his work.

"It was not a pleasant experience."

Carlisle gives her a puzzled look as she gathers herself up. "Er, of course. Thank you."

He then tries to return to his notes, fighting the guilt at the back of his mind. But you won't do it for the plants, that obnoxious elf had said. But what has she ever done to you? he'd said. His inaction toward the rest of the city wasn't what others had done to him -- okay, it was, in part, though the one who had destroyed his original garden was long gone -- but it was primarily about managing his energies, being careful to provide for only what he needed, and yes, his goddess would think better of someone who served her through serving others, as any and all souls returned to the cycle were to her benefit, and it isn't as though he doesn't have ample energy now with what he was able to siphon off his lover but that presents an entirely different moral quandary that he's not sure he really wants to consider at this moment given everything else that—

"I cannot move the stones myself," he blurts out, bringing his runaway train of thought to a halt. "I- I can meld them together, as I did these on my own, but I haven't the physical endurance for the initial construction."

He's watching the way the plants move and reach as he goes with a degree of vested interest. Taako's never been this guy, but his cleric was. He misses the effect of seeing plantlife curled around him, the way he'd laugh and talk to them in... sometimes ways he'd like to forget. Carlisle is definitely the more composed of the two, but that just makes him want to dig in deeper, see where the man will push back the more he presses. Just waiting for a reaction. A sign.

So he sighs when Carlisle is so subdued, crossing his arms with a roll of his eyes. "I'm not just a magician, dude, I don't do fakey-fake stuff. I'm a wizard. Which you seem to take sooooo much offense to." He lets his words dig in again, gesturing with his hand as he speaks. "But I'm not a nature dude. I do transmutation. So I mean, if you want the plants to be not plants, I can totally make that biz happen, natch. But I don't do all this. Better left to you in your nerd dome."

Again, there's no real reaction to the obvious jab of 'nerd dome;' however, tension visibly mounts him at 'wizard' once more, his fingers curling as though he finds the very word more repugnant than Taako himself. Given the fellow was just sticking his rear in and out of the barrier, that is quite a feat.

"Fine," he bites back, still trying to hold his temper. Glacius is apparently fond of this elf and his sister, after all, and he can manage some manners if only for that reason. How long he will manage them is the question. "Then those with the orchard are welcome to plead their case to me if they so desire. Until then, perhaps you can transmute some not plants into plants for them."

Oh. She slows to a stop, surprised that he speaks suddenly.

"...Do you mean to say that you could do it, if someone else were to move the stones?" Could Jon handle that, maybe? Or...Nate, now that she thinks on it. "I think that I could find someone to help, if that is the case."

The little light of hope that she might get to keep this garden project reignites. Dany offers a small smile, hands clasped at her front.

"Thank you."

[She finds her way to the park not seeking warmth, but the companionship of someone she has come to respect and might even tentatively call her friend. Carlisle is a strange and prickly individual, but Poison is strange and prickly too, and he doesn't seem to mind her being around the garden.

Poison does hesitate at the dome. She knows magic, and she knows technology, and she has seen barriers like this before and the things they can do to people who cross them. Yet... Carlisle is protective of his garden, but not to the extent of harming others with something like this. She takes a chance in touching the shimmering energy, and finds that it only tingles against her skin.

And with that, she slips through.

The relief from the cold is instant, and a soft exclamation of 'spirits' leaves her as warmth rises up through her frame like a flush. She tugs off her scarf as she walks, and she pets Rabbit when she finds him.]

Hello, Rabbit. Where's Carlisle? [She asks the nug, unfastening her coat and the jacket beneath it. From inside, two distinctly feline heads poke out.] He can't be far.

Carlisle, the fact you are even attempting manners makes you the better guy here, full stop. But he still notices that reaction- what is with him and the term? Taako carries it like a badge of honor, a recognition of his accomplishments, everything he fought for to keep himself alive. It's hard to learn magic. Even harder without some kind of schooling. And while the twins eventually made it to an academy, being a wizard was always the goal. He's maybe taking it a bit more personally than he has to.

"Fine, gosh. I can maybe do that. Loooootta magic though." He raises an eyebrow at Carlisle and thinks about taking his leave, but then absolutely doesn't. "Which you know, I learned how to do. At wizard school. Which is for wizards. Because I am one. A wizard."

Hm. Seems like there are some people that aren't so fond of jungles. Rey isn't particularly in favor of them either...

"Yeah, I can understand that. Anywhere that's not sweltering, I'm for. I mean, I figure we're gonna go there eventually but... tundra planet is a nice change of pace, really."

[Rabbit seems fine with Poison, but looks distinctly nervous the moment those feline heads make their way out of her coat, his beady eyes widening. For a creature that is usually ambivalent toward even the most threatening of visitors, he certainly does take off once something rattles him. He skitters through the garden as fast as his legs can carry him, heading right toward the clergyman himself.

If the presence of the barrier -- something he surely must have conjured up -- isn't an indicator that he's feeling better, then the reddish hue of his once colorless hair certainly is. The color has returned to his skin and eyes as well, their glow soft as his gaze lands upon Rabbit, his pet nestling right into the pot he's working with. The nug squashes the frostlace, hunkering down as though it'd hide him.

Carlisle sighs, his back still to Poison. This is not the first time he's seen this.] Rabbit, if you cannot keep yourself out of my plants, you'll have to go inside.

[She follows Rabbit at a distance, not wanting to startle him further, and doesn't get too close to Carlisle when he starts to talk. The last thing she wants is to potentially irritate the man by upsetting his pet and ruining the plants by proxy.]

Sorry... I think he's afraid of the cats. [Poison says, her tone genuinely apologetic as she holds one arm around the small critters in her coat. They don't seem too eager to escape into the cold, and even less interested in chasing after Rabbit.]

I can take them home and come back...

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Dome Sweet Dome

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im so fucking sorry

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Never beeeeeeeeee

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GOOD <3

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/slides in here real real late

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/also slides in here real real late

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