Icescapades

[glacius]

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?"

Comments

[tongueamok]

Carlisle lets out a quiet chuckle. "You have no need to thank me. It is what a good partner should do. I have been trying to be better about it."

He wrings his fingers beneath his cloak, well aware that many of the tribulations they've faced as a couple have been on him -- facing his fears, dealing with his condition. There are times he has been unthinking toward Glacius' concerns, at best, and outright callous regarding them at worst. He is no longer alone, though; he has a reason to be better, to improve himself in the eyes of someone other than his goddess and the ghosts of his lineage. And thanks to Glacius, he may actually live long enough to accomplish such self-improvement. It isn't a waste of precious time anymore.

And Glacius may feel that through the Mote as Carlisle leans against him once more, a heartfelt smile creeping across him.

"I have to admit that when we see sights like this... I believe this place would not be so bad to remain on."

[glacius]

"You've been doing very well," Glacius replies, feeling that warm tickle of satisfaction through their metaphysical bond and leaning back towards his partner in turn. He cannot read his partner's exact thoughts, but knowing that he's feeling some measure of happy pride from all of this is gratifying and comforting.

The notion of remaining here, however, is less so, and the ice alien is quick to rebel against it as always. "Mmh. But then you remember that the vast majority of our days are spent struggling and suffering, being used as playthings or pawns in some war we have no stake in... and it makes me want to be up among those stars instead of just looking at them even more. I..."

Glacius blinks, realizing in that moment that he's going off down a familiar path. The sight above them is beautiful and he should not act like it is lesser regardless of the circumstances that surround it. Keeping his one arm around Carlisle, he puts the other oh his partner's knee. "I... sorry. You were just trying to share a nice sentiment. I did not mean to spoil it by complaining, it is just... I do not want us to settle, you see? Even after everything I still believe that there is something better out there for us... and after all the trust you have put in me, I owe that much to you."

[tongueamok]

Carlisle wrings his fingers tighter, his gaze affixing itself on the reflection of the dancing lights on the snow before them. "I hear what you are saying, but- I meant that when the false gods inevitably move the city again. If... there were some way to just remain here."

Not that the tundra is particularly hospitable: he's had to use magic to keep his garden alive, and the beasts that wander beyond the city's borders are certainly more dangerous than the natural predators they saw in the caves or on the islands, but the temperature suits Glacius well, and Carlisle knows he could make do. It would just be the two of them, and might get terribly lonely after a while, but so long as they have each other...

He wrests his hands from one another, placing one atop Glacius'. "Forgive me for my foolishness. I will blame the long trek having worn me out in both mind and body. Perhaps I will think more clearly after a good night's rest."

[glacius]

"It is not foolish," Glacius shakes his head, "In fact, I think it is... admirable, in a way, that you could be content to make a life here. It is dangerous to want for more, as there is always more in life to want—be it wealth, friends, power, or even security. Learning to be accepting of what you have in the moment is a difficult, but wholly worthwhile, skill to learn."

The ice alien lowers his head on his curving neck to butt gently against his partner's cheek in a show of approval to cap that statement off. His glowing green eye looms large as he holds there, his alien pupil flicking over to regard the human next to him. "Anyways, if you are tired, you should rest. We had a long trek today, and there will be more time to spend together when we wake."

[tongueamok]

A quiet sigh escapes the clergyman, his mind unfortunately elsewhere. Glacius insists the idea is not foolish, but it is, Carlisle convinces himself. After all, Glacius may be made for such a cold, dangerous world, what with his icy armor and bold stature, but how would someone like him survive? Glacius would have to gather resources, food, protect them from the dangers of the tundra. What can Carlisle offer besides companionship?

His father could have survived in such a world. His uncles certainly could have. They would have likely enjoyed the challenge survival can offer were they not beholden to their nephew, the only heir of their proud family and failure of his lineage.

The icy giant's gentle nudge does little to draw Carlisle from his self-deprecation; he does his best to mask his uncertainty as he returns the gesture. "Until tomorrow, then." He slides from Glacius' side, bundling up in the furs closer to the fire so he does not freeze when the blaze goes out. "Goodnight, my friend. Do not stay up too late."

[glacius]

Carlisle does his best, but Glacius has come to learn that sort of sigh all too well throughout their relationship; he can tell that it is a sound of relenting, but not of understanding or agreement. He knows Carlisle is likely still troubled, all because his alien partner had to go and gripe in the middle of what should have simply been some nice stargazing. Whether or not their circumstances leave something to be desired in this mind, he hadn't meant to cause the cleric grief; the otherworldly being lifts a hand as the human turns over as if to stop him, but then halts mid-motion and drops it.

As much as he hates for Carlisle to go to bed feeling down, he knows that sometimes there is little point in trying to talk to him when he gets like this. For all the ways his partner has changed over the years, in others it still feels like they are in square one; it is best to give him time and try again in the morning, when things are a little brighter. So Glacius lays down too, on his side with this head cradled in the crook of one arm so that he can continue to look at the stars as he too gradually dozes off.

[tongueamok]

The stars remain in sight even after Glacius dozes off, the sky almost silver rather than the inky black it had been before. The longer he looks, the more apparent it may become that the stars are no longer themselves, but a reflection of lights upon the snow at his feet. At some point, one became the other in a seamless transition.

And after a few seconds, Glacius may find he's not alone there, though it's not Carlisle who joins him, but a tall, broad man with auburn locks and a body scarred from many a battle. Despite his imposing appearance -- and height, as Glacius will find if he looks at himself that he is himself no longer, with a shorter height to match -- the man's eyes are warm, laden with a gentle kindness. Most notable is the mantle on his shoulder -- the very same one made from a kalugra now in Glacius' possession, its teeth glittering in the moonlight.

"What are you doing out here so late, lad?" Though deep, his voice is soft, his accent very much like Carlisle's. "Benistad's been looking all over for you."

[glacius]

The transition from reality to dream takes Glacius completely off guard—it is not the shift itself that does it, though. Their close physical proximity and moroever their Bond has allowed the ice alien to probe his partner's sleeping subconscious a couple of times, now. Rather, it is the transition of his self from one form to the next that scrambles his brain and leaves him staring dumbly for a moment; his dream-walking has always allowed him to visit others, not to become them entirely.

Being an alien with a very different physical form is bad enough; it does not help that he has none of Carlisle's knowledge or even his memories. Glacius is finding it incredibly difficult to adjust when he cannot even parse why this has happened, so he just stares back at the man before him, not sure what he can even say in this situation.

[tongueamok]

Thankfully, Boris takes the expression his supposed-nephew gives him in stride, offering him a smile. "Ah. You need not explain yourself if ya don't want. I suppose the urge to get some fresh air every now and then is as much in your blood as it is in mine."

He claps a hand on Carlisle's -- now Glacius' -- shoulder; though the gesture is gentle, his hands are coarse from years of handling the axe strapped across his back. Pulling in a deep breath, he looks to the stars above them, steam rising from his nostrils as he pushes the air out of his lungs.

"I..." He sighs in a manner very much like Carlisle himself before trying again. "It's hard now, lad. No one is denying that. But we'll make it through this, I promise you. You know that, right? We'll make it through this together, as we always have."

[glacius]

For all of the burly human's words of support, Glacius just continues to scrutinize him, trying to figure this all out. He mentioned Benistad, so he's clearly family... is this his other uncle, Boris? In this smaller form, it is not all that hard to see why Carlisle found him so impressive; having a human looming large over him is novel, and something he decides he is not entirely fond of. The displaced ice alien finds himself trying to puff up slightly compensate, a gesture that might seem out of place for the often-frightened cleric whose body he has somehow found himself in... but then, pretending to be someone he is not is never something Glacius would attempt. In fact, it is another reason he is so uncomfortable with all of this.

He does still need to find some way to respond, though. "My apologies..." the ice alien starts with, and is relieved to find that this dream at least allows him automatic knowledge of how to use the structures of a mouth he has never before possessed. "...I do not belong here. I am not quite sure how else to put it."

[tongueamok]

Something ignites in Boris Glacius' words, his eyes flaring as he casts his supposed nephew a look -- it is not one of pure anger, but also apprehension, fear. The way it shakes him is unbecoming of a man so obviously strong, but he does little to hide it as he kneels, bringing himself closer to Carlisle's height as he turns to face him.

"D'your father tell you that?" he questions, his lip twitching just enough to show his teeth. He seems to realize immediately that aggravation is not the right course of action, and reels in it, his mighty brow knitting tightly as he averts his eyes for a second or two, then returns them to Glacius, his hand still on his shoulder. "Look, no matter what Kevin thought, you are a Longinmouth. You will always be a Longinmouth, no matter what roads you may take... or what paths you are forced upon by circumstance. They do not change who you are, and whomever that may be, you embrace it, lad. Understand?"

[glacius]

"You do not understand," Glacius replies, unmoved by the display of aggression—though belatedly he realizdes he perhaps should be, for he is not sure how well he could defend himself in this form should a human so large try to enact harm. "That is not what this is—"

But then he checks himself because it is, is it not? These are words that Carlisle needs to hear—that Glacius hopes he heard when an ice alien had not somehow taken over his body. "I understand. I do," Glacius goes with instead, though he wishes Carlisle was the one saying that and meaning it; in fact, it feels bad that the intended person is not here to receive these words now. In the very least, it is heartening to know that his partner had some sources of support in his family.

[tongueamok]

That answer seems to placate Boris, who gives his nephew a relieved smile before pulling him into a quick, but tight embrace. "Yer not alone in this, Carlisle," he says quietly, his breath visible in the cold air of the night. "Me and Benistad -- we're here for you, so don't take it all on yourself."

Words that would be true, for a time, and ones Carlisle took to heart; the disappearance of his uncles affected Carlisle so profoundly that he must have. Releasing Glacius, Boris straightens up, turning his eyes to the night sky once more before he starts heading for the house, waiting for Carlisle to follow. Though the rest of the world around them is somewhat blurry, faded by the frailty of memory, the estate behind them is crisp, every detail memorized from the years the clergyman spent isolated there.