hadriel_logs | Icescapades

Entry tags:

Icescapades

Who: Glacius (

glacius) and Carlisle (

tongueamok)
What: A lightheared attempt at cold camping that inadvertantly lets these two avoid Rage's influence following Delight's demise.
Where: Outside the city limits.
When: 2/23
Warnings: N/A

What sunlight made it through the light cloud covering of this cold world shone down on the even colder alien that crested the hill, using the vantage point to cast a glance back at the city that was dwindling in size behind them. Then, those glowing green eyes dropped to the human following behind him, extending his long limb to aid the human behind him as he tackled the incline next. It wasn't uncommon to see Glacius trudging diligently out beyond the city limits, exploring and keeping watch, but for his partner to join him was a special occassion.

Glacius had long been keenly interested in exploring this planet for an extended period of time, and Carlisle had mentioned a few times that he wouldn't mind going out with him on a camping venture. Now, given the most recent transmission the citizens of Hadriel had received from the Null, it seemed like the perfect time to get away from it all. The ice alien did not want to be involved in the exchange, did not want to be dragged into the conflict between the murderous machiens and the torturing parasites any more than he already had been... so, what had initially been planned as a fun get away together now had added incentive.

"Ah, there you go," Glacius speaks, pulled out of his thoughts by the human's much warmer gloved hand resting lightly in his own. He clasps it supportively and helps him the the rest of the way up the hill, happy for Hadriel to vanish behind it. "The terrain may be uneven, but you are doing well... and soon we will be far enough away to look for a place to set up camp and rest. How are you doing, my partner?"

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Carlisle's brow knits, his lopsided smile fading. His gaze lands on the ground, focusing on each step as he tries to assuage his partner's concerns.

"This place, awful as it may be at times, is a vast improvement, Glacius," he reassures. "Were I not here, I likely would be dead, whether in Bear Den or in the jungle, and all unfortunate to suffer my presence would find themselves damned by a Revenant. Were I not here, I would have no reason to keep living, knowing there are others whose concern for my well-being, as misplaced as I may find it at times, does exist."

He picks up his pace, trying to get in front of Glacius to meet his eyes. He manages to get beside him before he stumbles, catching himself despite the heavy pack on his back. It doesn't stop his earnest confession, his words a far cry from the despair that so ensnared him as his soul dwindled away to nothing. The Siphoning restored not just his body, but his mind as well, and with such an immediate, immeasurable burden lifted from his shoulders, he finds his very attitude freer than it has been in some time.

"Were I not here, Glacius, I would not have you, and you would not have me. I know not what this plane would hold for you, but I would be alone... utterly, dreadfully alone. That is far more intolerable than a prison-city if you ask me."

And if there is one thing that is apparent -- from the lonely vision of his past self in his dreams to the man his solitude shaped him to be, and how it affects him even to this day -- it is that loneliness is a wound that crippled Carlisle far worse than his affliction ever did.

"'Unfortunate'... for everything you learn it seems we still need to work on your own self-image," Glacius muses... but that is not the main point being addressed, and he knows it.

He sighs, tilts his head, and simply... observes the human in front of him. For a moment he looks very much like the ice alien that was first brought here, regarding each and every human with a sort of aloof scrutiny, as though he is not sure what to think of them. Thankfully it does not last long; whatever he is thinking he settles on a fondness that has become more familiar over the past year.

"It is so strange to hear a human say these things to me... and yet, it becomes less so every time that I hear it. And I have heard it quite a lot these past months, haven't I! I will not say that I am happy that we have been brought here, but I am happy that we have met... and that I have been able to... change your life for the better, I suppose," Glacius replies, then flexes his hand slightly. "It is just so hard when this damned city claims so much! Is it wrong of me to want of more for both of us..?"

At Glacius' musing, Carlisle's hand immediately goes to pick at the bandage at his arm -- one that is unfortunately behind several layers, leaving him tugging on the fabric of his sleeve instead. He hadn't meant it quite in that way, but his partner is right in that his self-image has never been the best. That isn't the matter at hand though, and so he makes a mental note to address it later.

"It is not wrong to want more for the both of us, no," he confirms, his fingers tightening on a wrinkle near his wrist as he slows to a standstill. "But neither is it productive to fully condemn this place when, for as torturous as it has been, there... has been good, as well. Good that I would not have experienced elsewhere. Or that if I had, it would not have been exactly the same. What if, despite what I would like to believe, the circumstances here are the only ones under which we become partners? Lovers? Is it wrong to accept that our brighter future might only exist because of what we have shared here, both good and bad?"

He reaches for Glacius' torn mandible, a visible sign of their losses and suffering -- but also their bond.

Glacius lets out a beleaguered rumble of a sigh, even as he leans into Carlisle's caress—his way of acknowledging the truth being presented even if he does not like the circumstances. "I will not deny that the tribulations we have endured together, nor the way you have selflessly supported me in my times of need, have brought us closer. I am grateful for that, not matter how I might protest or rally against this place. So I suppose that, as much as I wish I could change things for us... I would not, not if it meant jeopardizing what we have now."

The ice alien finally smiles again, keeping his face still with the raking, gnarled scar in Carlisle's palm before turning his head a bit to nuzzle tenderly at his partner's hand. The tine of his intact mandible cannot reach skin like he wishes it could thanks to the cleric's protective gloves, but it is still a very open display of affection from a normally reserved creature. "That does not mean I will not keep trying to change things for us moving forward, but... it is good to remember that everything we been through has not been for nothing. I would credit that to us, though... not to this place."

"That is all I could ask for," Carlisle relents, giving his partner's scar one more affectionate touch before returning his attention to the wilds ahead of them. He's aware there are just some things they will always disagree on, given their very different upbringings, worlds, and ideologies; however, their similarities are greater than the sum of all that separates them. If there is nothing else real around them, their bond is, and he will not allow himself to doubt that again, not after it was nearly all that held him together as he neared his very grim end -- an end averted because of their bond.

However Glacius wants to attribute it, the most important part is that it exists. That will do for now, and so Carlisle decides to change the subject. Don't talk about the city, don't talk about their burdens. Probably shouldn't talk about Pendlebrook Brimstone, as Glacius has no doubt heard enough of that. Carlisle latches onto what comes to mind first.

"Uncle Boris used to go on walks like this to clear his head," he starts, his breath picking up again as he carefully steps over a precarious rock. "He would, ah, sometimes march into the woods with nothing but the clothes on his back, and be gone for the better part of a week, surviving on what the world provided."

Edited 2019-02-27 00:12 (UTC)

"That is more in line with how I would do it, too," Glacius replies; even though he has strength aplenty to carry the great majority of their supplies, he cannot deny that it feels strange and awkward to have a pack across his back to begin with. There is a lot about human camping that he will have to adjust to, it seems. "I have to admit I am surprised a human could fare very well like that, given how frail your species is. And your technology... primitive..."

Not that Carlisle's world even had much in the way of technology. The ice alien clicks his intact mandible, thinking of it. "Yet, your species is still alive and flourishing for a reason. You must have found ways to do it. You will have to share them with me as we go about this venture so that I may learn—it will help me look out for you if need be."

"I doubt I will be the bastion of knowledge you see in that regard," Carlisle returns, slowing down again, "but I will do my best to share with you what I know."

He takes a few quick breaths, trying to even himself out before he continues. His words are still punctuated by breaths, but his enthusiasm for the topic remains strong. "In terms of human frailty, Uncle Boris would have been considered anything but. He was very sturdy, I assure you. A man weathered and worn, and a capable warrior. A- a bit like yourself, actually. I believe the two of you would have gotten along."

"I believe you have mentioned him to me a time or two before. I would imagine that any human whose primary profession was to be a hunter of beasts would have to be," Glacius muses. "Did you live close to your whole family, then? Both immediate and extended? Or did he simply come to your town for visits?"

"Our entire line lived at our estate," Carlisle answers, placing a hand on a rocky outcrop to steady himself as he catches his breath again. He quickly removes it, realizing just how cold the stone is, and opts to cross his arms instead.

"I haven't any extended family that I know of," he continues. "None on the Longinmouth side. I- I suppose my mother might have had blood ties that remained, but I wasn't told about them if so." His brow knits. He's never actually considered he might have familial relations on his mother's side out there somewhere.

"Well, no sense in driving yourself crazy over something we currently have no way of finding out," Glacius replies. Currently, he's preoccupied watching Carlisle steady himself with barely-disguised wariness. When the human removes his hand from the stone outcropping, the alien steps closer in response, ready to catch him should the frozen ground prove too slippery.

"I am curious, though—what constitutes a 'line' in your culture?"

Carlisle glances Glacius' way, offering his partner a polite, reassuring smile as he realizes just why he's hovering so close. The alien is as attentive and considerate as ever.

"A bloodline. Those who are directly and legitimately related to a family name through birth, such as my father and my uncles, and my grandmother before them. One can be married into the line, of course, but inheritance follows the blood itself rather than ties of matrimony."

"I see. That is what I had been assuming, but... well, it just seems like a great many people to have in one home! I suppose yours was rather large, I would just be worried about the need for space for one another..."

No wonder that Boris took nearly week-long walks. Glacius supposes he should focus more on their own; he strides ahead, surveying the cold lands before them. Though the terrain has plateaued for a fair distance, he can still pick out ravines and rises they will have to either go around or traverse. The former would take time; the latter is no issue for him, but he will have to be sure they can find a way to do it that is safe for a human that can't shift their limbs into natural climbing tools.

He pauses, swiveling his head back to Carlisle; he knows his partner has limited experience in these regards, but he is curious to know what he thinks, or to see how he might figure this out. "I see some obstacles ahead, my partner. Which way would you like to go?"

A little less winded after another moment's break, Carlisle catches up to Glacius, giving the terrain a look-over himself. He doesn't know how deep the ravines go, nor what may lie on the other side of those rocky rises, but he knows one thing for certain: he is no climber.

"I... suppose we could see if there is a way into the crags and crevices of those ravines," he suggests. "Perhaps they would block the wind and make for a suitable camp?"

"A crag is an idea," Glacius muses, rubbing at his tapering chin. "We would not want to stay in the bottom of the ravine itself—the wind could get funneled, and rocks could break off and fall on us from above, but if we could find at least a portion of a wall that could give us some cover, that might be our best option. I can use my powers to make added protection with ice, too."

The alien adjusts his pack, being sure that the fabric does not snag on any of his various spikes as he walks. "We should both keep an eye out. At least those mammalian predators are not built for scaling uneven terrain, what with how large and ungainly they are. We should not see to many of them this far out, though I may have to go looking for something to bolster the rations we have brought."

"Ah," Carlisle remarks with a nod, deferring to Glacius' judgment in regards to both their potential camp and supply options. He might know a thing or two about survival on paper, but there is a reason he has very little practice in such methods. Well, many reasons, actually, most of which involve a painful and sudden demise at the hands of a wild beast. Thankfully, Glacius has been handling said beasts since they arrived on this planet; he feels he's in capable hands.

"I mean, right," he picks up, realizing ah was neither affirmation, nor a helpful comment. "I'll, er. Keep an eye out for somewhere that would provide adequate protection for me, should you have to go hunting. I wouldn't want to be in the way."

"Of course. I would not just leave you out in the middle of nowhere while I wandered off. We'll find a place and we will make sure it is safe and comfortable before I even think of leaving you... and no matter what, I promise to not go far," Glacius reassures his partner, well used to his nervousness whenever any potential scuffle is on the horizon. He does not want Carlisle to feel overwhelmed, so he carries on.

"We will have plenty of supplies for tonight at least, so let us not worry about all that for the time being. Let us find a place to set up camp so you can rest and warm up, and then we will see about doing... whatever it is you humans like to do on an outing like this. For my people it is climbing and exploring and then swapping stories as we relax after a long day; usually there is lots of stargazing and meditating, too. I think we can manage at least one or two of those things together."

"Stargazing sounds splendid," Carlisle admits, casting a cursory glance to the sky above them; they have some time before nightfall, but he did like what he could see from the city, the void above them occasionally filled with colorful, dancing lights unlike anything he's ever seen. Glacius has spent so much time hunting, trying to provide for the city in the gods' absence -- surely he has seen them to, he thinks.

"As for what else we do, it sounds very similar," he continues as he follows his partner. "Stories, exploring and whatnot. I could regale you with tales of the Longinmouths. Or Pendlebrook Brimstone. Or- or you could tell me of some remarkable figures of your people? Or family? A favorite author, perhaps?"

Is he asking if there is an alien equivalent of Pendlebrook Brimstone? Yes, yes he is.

"A favorite author..? Now there is something I have not thought about in a long time," Glacius muses; he has been so busy trying to stay alive and keep other people safe that he really has not had much time to consider such recreation. He does now, though, so he mulls it over as he crests another snow-blanketed slope.

"There was a diplomat named Saarutis who was raised during a rare time of strife of my people, long, long ago. He took it upon himself to become something of a chronicler, so I always liked to read his ancient stories whenever another was recovered, restored, and compiled in our historical archives. I know it might seem odd for a member of a peace-loving species to enjoy reading what were largely recounts of the struggles of war, but it... was not about the fighting for me. It was about the sacrifice of the warriors, and of how the clashing factions overcame their differences and came to see each other as members of one vast whole again. There is always a price for peace, and we would do well to remember it so that we do not retread old mistakes and find ourselves steering down a more treacherous path again."

"That sounds fantastic," Carlisle remarks, "though I will admit how odd it has always struck me in regards to your people, hearing about their lack of conflict. Not that- not that war is something I would look forward to, but for warriors such as yourself to come from a group so seemingly benign is a bit of a dichotomy."

Then again, maybe there is a seedy underbelly to it all somewhere, a group consisting of the outcasts and the marginalized. The Aberrants must belong somewhere, after all. Glacius has always been so critical of humanity, casting judgment on them for judging others for whatever reason they may. He has his reasons, but Carlisle struggles to believe he was that supported his entire life -- by his parents, by his peers, by everyone.

Then again, he is not cursed. They had very different upbringings, and Carlisle reminds himself he'd do well to keep that in mind.

"Warriors are trained to keep the peace," Glacius replies immediately, either used to explaining this or wary of the implications Carlisle is laying out. "Our duties are to defend, protect, and to defuse conflict... not incite it. The fact that our particular skillset is one that sometimes necessitates violence is a burden we carry with us so that other members of our species may not have to... and it is a burden we do well to always be mindful of. Just because an individual knows how to fight does not mean we seek it out or revel in it..."

And the ice alien does sound vaguely resentful at the thought that his own partner might be wondering about that. Does Carlisle truly not believe that warriors belong among a peaceful society? Still, he carries on, "...But there will always be times where it is unavoidable, whether those threats come from the rare criminals or aberrants... or from beyond our own world. When you work in external affairs as I do, training in self-defense is an absolute must."

Carlisle hears that shift in tone, and backtracks to smooth the waters. "It is not that I believe a warrior incapable of fighting only in defense, be it self or otherwise," he explains, picking up his pace to try to catch up with his partner, who has gotten ahead of him again. "As you said, it is, at times, unavoidable. Uncle Boris often said the same thing, and he was known for his gentle demeanor. I- I merely meant that there must be a reason for such defense on your home world. Are all threats from invaders, or are aberrants truly so rare that moAUGH!"

Having been so caught up in trying to reason out his thinking for his partner, Carlisle hasn't been watching his feet; stepping on a patch that looks solid enough near the edge a hill proves it absolutely isn't. It gives way beneath his foot and down he slides, just barely catching himself on the ledge with his arms and other leg.

If there is one thing he could stand to learn, it is self-defense against nature.

That's one way to forcibly dislodge the alien's sudden sullenness; Glacius' brows shoot up in alarm as Carlisle slips and immediately moves to assist, swooping down and grappling one of his partner's arms should his own limbs prove unable to catch himself. Thankfully he manages, and at that point the ice alien's powerful grip switches to a gentler but still solid support; he laces his sturdy fingers through the human's and helps him back up, then away from the treacherous ledge, giving him an apologetic look for the way he had grabbed at him before.

"Perhaps we should save such serious topics of conversation for when we are sitting and settled. This land is harsh and requires our attention to traverse safely," Glacius warbles, keeping one hand in Carlisle's while he adjusts the human's pack for him. Then he gives him a once over. "Are you alright?"

Gripping onto Glacius' hand as though it were a lifeline -- and given the precarious terrain, it may as well be -- Carlisle gets back to his feet, nodding.

"Yes, yes I'm fine," he assures, looking down the hill; the drop would not have been life-threatening, but painful regardless. "Just- just wasn't watching my step. Foolish, really. Something I w- would have been chided for at one point in my life, aheh."

He leaves his hand in Glacius' grasp, giving it a squeeze as his eyes land on an alcove below them, one given natural shelter by the rocky terrain curled above it. "That looks like a promising spot, don't you think?"

Glacius' eyes flick down to survey the shallow recess in the rock below them for a few moments; then his gaze returns to his partner, who he gives something of a secretive, playful look. Carlisle won't have long to wonder what exactly is going through the alien's mind, for he soon scoops him up—pack and all—in his arms and starts heading right for the steep incline that will take them down to it.

He may not trust his partner on such treacherous terrain given his near-accident of just a moment ago, or he may simply want to spare the human the stress of having to navigate it after what has already been a long walk. What is certain is that Glacius has developed something of a penchant of catching Carlisle off with gallant acts; the ice alien fixes the cleric with another look as he's bundled in his powerful, familiar arms; this one is knowing and eager. "What say we go find out?"

Glacius' mischievous look is met with confusion from Carlisle; however, he doesn't get the chance to question it as Glacius' arm sweeps his legs from behind, the other catching him with ease. The weight of both the clergyman and his luggage don't seem to have much of an impact on the icy warrior as he hoists them both into the hair, though the act of literally sweeping Carlisle off his feet certainly does get a reaction, leaving said clergyman a little red.

Though flustered, he smiles, chuckling softly as he leans further against Glacius. "Yes, let's," he agrees, putting one hand on his partner's chest and the other on his glasses to hold them in place. "Just- just don't drop me. Not that you would on purpose, obviously, but ah. You know. Rocky terrain and cliffs, and I don't exactly have a good history with cliffs, so um."

He clears his throat, realizing belatedly that none of that really needed an explanation.

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