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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"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.

Glacius arches a brow at first, as if dubious over Carlise's suggestion that he might drop him— purposefully or not. Then, however, the human goes on to hint at traumatic memories past, and the ice alien sobers. He does not know about the cleric's first time careening over a high ledge, as it was a long time ago and in another world at that, and Carlisle has been careful not to talk too much about his encounters with that other ice alien as he knows the trepidation it stirs within his partner. What Glacius does know about is the more recent time, when he was away on a voyage and the timid human was chased right over a seaside bluff by a monster to bash and crumple against the rocks below... and that is enough.

Frowning, Glacius turns Carlisle towards him slightly as if to better tuck him against his broad chest, trying for reassurance. Perhaps he should have been more sensitive and not taken his partner out to such an uneven and treacherous landscape... but what is done is done, and turning back halfway through their descent would be pointless.

"I am sorry, I should have been more mindful. I will get this over with as quickly as possible," the ice alien reassures—and surely, Carlisle will be able to feel the powerful but steady motions on his partner's limbs as he takes them down towards solid ground. "Then let us take a break. You have earned it."

Carlisle rests himself against Glacius' chest, seemingly at peace despite the climb -- it's hard for him to feel anything but when he's in the arms of his partner, where he feels safer than anywhere else. The smile that pulls itself across his face in his moment of blissful naiveté falters as he takes a glance at just how steep the climb is, but Glacius' reassurances do much to assuage his fears.

"You need not apolooooh we are very high up." So much for not letting his apprehension get to him. He lifts his gaze upward, keeping his eyes far from the ground and the thought of plummeting toward it. "Not that- not that I think you incapable of handing such a height. This is- is not the first time you have carried me, nor even the first time I've been carried from a cliff, or been camping. We- we are safe out here. I am safe as long as I am with you."

He gives Glacius a genuine smile as they reach the ground, doing his best to be optimistic, despite his natural inclinations.

Glacius smiles broadly in response to that, pausing to give Carlisle an appreciative nod... but then his focus ultimately must shift back to the icy slope beneath them. It would not do to lose his footing and slip right after his partner has expressed such trust in them!

As it turns out, the trust is well-placed; the alien's natural affinity for and thorough experience with such terrain means that they make it all the way to the bottom with little hassle. Once there, the ice alien carefully sets his partner down, assessing him fully.

"Now you are starting to get it," he finally replies. "I am honored every time you place your trust in me. Now, how about you assess that little recess and see if it will suit your needs? I bet you are ready to sit down after all of this."

"Ah, all right," Carlisle replies, taking a look around. There's a shallow patch of grass growing beneath the rocky outcrop that will serve as their partial roof, having apparently garnered just enough sunlight to flourish; the sparse treeline is far enough away that they will surely see any potential predators coming long before they arrive, save for if they manage to scale the rocks as well. Where the outcrop doesn't cover provides them a clear view of the sky, one that will no doubt dazzle once filled with stars.

Most importantly, the back of the alcove is but a smooth wall, no caves or hiding places for nasty beasts to speak of. Nice and safe.

"This will do nicely," Carlisle finally assesses, rubbing at his shoulders. "Put the packs here, and go gather some wood, would you? I'll prepare our campsite while you do."

"Oh... alright," Glacius replies, his brows lifting ever so slightly—he's surprised that Carlisle is the one to suggest splitting up, and so casually at that. Far be it from him to protest a show of bravery on the cleric's part, even if his protective nature in combination with the human's sometimes frail nature wants him to.

"I will be quick," the alien reassures, coming over the place their packs down as his partner has suggested, "And I'll stay in your line of sight. The treeline is not far and is not nearly so dense that you'll lose track of me, should you need anything. You can, of course, just call for me if you do."

With that Glacius gives Carlisle on little parting peck with his mandible, then walks off towards said treeline, shifting his arm into a blade so that he can lop off branches or fell smaller saplings depending on their needs. True to his word, he skirts the outside edge of this patch of scruffy trees; the clergyman need only look up and out to see him there, working diligently to gather timber, pausing occasionally to lift his head high on that serpentine neck to watch and listen for any sounds of danger. Just because there may be some physical distance doesn't mean that the ice alien isn't still fully committed to his partner's safety.

As Glacius departs, Carlisle gets to work on unpacking the provisions they brought for their camp, most of which was shouldered by Glacius on the trek there. He sets down a tanned hide first to keep away the chill of the ground, then a large pelt for cushioning, a blanket on that for a smooth texture atop which to sleep; that is followed by another blanket for a cover, then a second pelt for warmth, and then their makeshift tent to help hold in the heat. All in all, it's not a bad place for them to get some shut-eye... or at least for Carlisle to do so, given the cold has little bearing on a warrior already covered in ice. The temperature is quickly dropping as night approaches, and without the walls of their house to protect him, he merely wants to make sure he won't freeze. How embarrassing it would be for him to have survived his affliction, only to die to the cold.

After a quick glance Glacius' way to make sure he is indeed within eyeshot -- and he is -- Carlisle sets up the spot for their fire. It's a greater distance from the tent than one might place a campfire normally, but he is trying to consider his partner's well-being here.

The chill bites into him, the wind cutting down and around the rocks more than he thought it would, so he pulls his kalugra cloak around his shoulders, tucking his head beneath the hood as he tries to stifle his shivering. With his spot at the treeline, Glacius might see only the illusion when he looks back toward his partner, seeing the figure of a monstrous kalugra wandering about their camp instead of the frail clergyman. In good news, should the two of them be separated at any point, the enchantment Benistad placed on the cloak long ago is still functioning, and might help keep Carlisle safe.

The kalugra-shaped Carlisle finishes his work, the monstrous form standing upright on its back legs as he surveys his handiwork. It's no cozy cabin in his garden, but it will do, and it beats walking for another several hours.

Carlisle might find the current set uo somewhat lacking in comfort and warmth, but to Glacius the set up looks perfectly cozy as he finishes gathering up the first armful of wood and returns to the scene. The strange beast milling around the campsite had initially caused some concern—he'd been occasionally looking out for danger and seeing that thing where his partner should be qualified—but then the alien remembered the enchantment on that cloak and had relaxed somewhat.

It still feels strange to be standing in front of an animal and communicating with it, though. Glacius puts the wood down in a neat pile near the spot it seems Carlisle has chosen for the fire, then straightens up, dusts his hands off, and tilts his head at the illusory form of the beast.

"Is this going to be... a permanent thing while you are wearing that cloak? If you need it for warmth then you should wear it, though I must admit I was... hoping to cozy up with a Bondmate, rather than a beast."

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