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 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."

Carlisle eyes the pile Glacius brought, getting to work on building a proper setup for a fire, his illusionary form holding as he leans the branches against one another to form a point. Rather than fingers, the form uses its claws to maneuver the wood around, making for an odd sight for anyone unfamiliar with the enchantment.

But thankfully, Glacius is familiar with the enchantment. Carlisle gives him a puzzled look. "Huh? Oh, oh I, er." He lowers the hood as he stands up, dispelling the illusion. "Aheh. I was merely keeping the chill at bay. Nearly forgot this cloak did that, honestly. I would not dream of having you sleep next to a creature, of course."

He stoops again, returning to his work. "Uncle Benistad's enchantment is still strong after all these years, I see."

"Do what you need to do to stay warm and safe," Glacius replies, lifting a hand, not wanting Carlisle to think his minor qualms should be prioritized over his partner's comfort and protection. It is, however, much easier and much more natural to lean down next to the cleric when he returns to his work once the illusion has been dispelled.

The alien does his best to help with arranging the logs, but there's only so much he can do in that regard without getting in Carlisle's way, so he moves on to surrounding the firepit with small stones and then clearing the surrounding area of any pines or twigs. Preparing a site to burn might be counterintuitive to his very nature, but he has learned a thing or two over the many years he's lived among humans now.

"It seems so. I always knew the cape belonged to him but I suppose I never realized he was the one that enchanted it, as well. Is it a difficult process? You have enchanted a few things for me now. It is quite remarkable what they can do."

Carlisle reddens just a hair at Glacius' words, simultaneously flattered by his praise and embarrassed by a completely different point.

"This is my cape, actually," he murmurs, a face apparently important enough to warrant correction. "But his enchantment. The potential for enchanting is practically limitless, but the art itself, and to perform it well, is indeed difficult."

He lets Glacius work on the firepit, fumbling with the claws still attached to his cloak. "It is tradition for members of the family to present gifts to those who have completed their rite of passage. Though I... did not technically complete mine, Uncle Benistad thought it best I have something to help protect myself when they were away. I suspect this was not his first choice for a gift, but he felt it a better fit than anything else."

Glacius frowns, plainly embarrassed by his slip-up in not recognizing his partner's posession of the cape. He should be more familiar with Carlisle's family history than to make such an error... he supposes it is a good thing they are sitting down to a night of simply talking, then.

"It was nice of him to leave something for you, at least. What do you reckon he would have preferred to gift to you? If the enchantment takes such work, is it not a fine one?"

"Ah, it is," Carlisle replies, stiffening at the thought he might have somehow painted a poor image of his uncle, as though he'd ever think to grant his nephew a gift with a lackluster enchantment. "It is a fine one, obviously, and- and admittedly, better suited for me than many gifts, considering my, um. Considering I have no inclination toward fighting, or hunting, or anything of the sort."

He's a coward, in other words, and he's well aware of it. He would rather run and hide than draw a weapon, so why not hide as a beast that many were not brave enough to challenge in the first place?

"I believe, however, were he to have his preference, he would have given me a weapon. A wand, maybe, or a staff like his own. Every Longinmouth for as long as we can remember was given one for their Hunt, save for me. And he always did complain that the maces of my order were ill-fitting for someone who showed any real talent for magic."

"Oh," Glacius replies, toeing around in the dirt a bit more for a moment, "I understand."

It might seem like the alien is going to continue to distract himself with busywork, but then he flicks one errant pine out of the way, taps his two sturdy white toes against the frozen ground, and then looks to Carlisle. "I understand customary exchanges... appreciate them, even. But I also think that every person's needs and tastes are different. I know that you probably wanted to fit in with what was customary for the rest of your lineage, but I do not think it is a bad thing that your uncle knew and cared for you enough to give you something that better suited your needs. Not every person can or want to conform... and that sort of rigidity can sometimes do more harm than good. Better to get something you can actually use and stand out a bit, than to receive something that would only get you into trouble for conformity's sake. No?"

Edited 2019-04-22 20:52 (UTC)

Carlisle places the last of the sticks into place, his eyes affixed on his work rather than on his partner. There is something to be said about that kind of advice coming from someone who seems so averse to being different, so troubled by the mere thought of there being a version of himself that does not conform to his strict notions of what is acceptable for the society in which he was raised. Perhaps Algidus is aberrant, but Carlisle refuses to believe that makes him inherently bad, no matter how grief-stricken Glacius may be by the very concept.

But Glacius does ultimately know what it is like to not entirely fit in with those around him, and more importantly, he is trying to be encouraging. Thus, Carlisle holds his tongue on his argumentative thoughts.

"It is," he agrees, offering his partner a lopsided smile. "Disappointed as he may have been, I believe he wanted the best for me. They both did." His father was another matter entirely. "And perhaps he was gifted with the foresight that once ran in our blood, as it has indeed come in handy more than once, particularly here. I ought not complain."

"It is always good to be grateful for the gifts that we are given," Glacius nods, coming to squat next to Carlisle and his pile of twigs and kindling. The ice alien, hunched over as he is, further lowers his head to give his partner a sidelong glance. "I have to ask, though, what made you think your Uncle was disappointed? Did he say such things to you when giving you your cloak?"

"Of course not," Carlisle replies as he looks toward his partner, shaking his head as though to further emphasize the point. He would never want Glacius to think ill of his uncles, of all people.

"Brash as he could be at times, he would have never vocalized such frustration in front of me, even if he felt it. I mean not to paint a poor picture of them. He— both him and Uncle Boris knew I would be uniquely burdened by my circumstances, and that they need not place any more upon me than necessary."

Glaicus pauses a moment later, continuing to regard Carlisle with careful thought, before looking away and replying. "That is good. I suppose I am simply curious why you think yourself to be a disappointment if these people never vocalized such things to you. It... hurts me to hear you refer to yourself as such even in passing."

Another beat, and those glowing green eyes flick back once more to Carlisle. "You know that... I would never consider you as such, right?"

"A disappointment or a burden?" Carlisle asks, realizing a fraction of a second later that he can answer that question for himself, as Glacius would strongly insist he is neither. "I- what I mean is that I know you would never consider me as such- or either. You have told me so before, though at times, I cannot see why."

And that would be more of what Glacius doesn't like to hear; he fumbles over another pile of words, trying to make up for it. "Not- not that you haven't explained your stance adequately, of course. It's- it is merely easier to see myself as a disappointment, knowing my bloodline, having grown up hearing their tales and trials, and their subsequent victories. I had always pictured myself among them, of course. Er, literally, in some cases. We had a lot of portraits of my family in the estate, and such images and, ah. Their implications left a permanent impression upon me."

He does not realize Glacius is more acquainted with said portraits than he could ever know, courtesy of the gods' interference in their dreams.

Glacius listens as Carlisle speaks; he starts of well enough sounding like he's acknowledging the alien's sentiments, but then he careens down his usual path of countless words and Glacius' expression twists into one of confusion. When the clergyman finally pauses he reaches out and puts a hand on his should, not only as a time out gesture but to hopefully convey an attempt at genuine connection.

"I feel like you are listening, but maybe not entirely hearing me... or fully acknowledging the depths of what I am telling you. I was not talking about your family or your blood line. I was talking about us, about how I feel about you, and I am telling you that I would never consider you a disappointment or a burden. Never. I love you and I... am proud of you. I just want you to think about that, to actually consider it, before you careen off into other thoughts and worries."

Carlisle reddens, his hands wringing together as he tries again -- slower this time. "I know, truly," he starts, his eyes flicking to the ground. He puts a hand to his chest, continuing. "I feel it here, within our Bond, but it," —his gaze lands on Glacius as he puts a hand to his own temple— "it's hard to make sense of it here. The path of logic often struggles to find its way through the chambers of the heart."

Even now, his head tells him that Glacius wouldn't say such things if he didn't feel they needed reiterating -- that Carlisle needs a reminder, needs that reassurance. He does need it, and he knows it, and though he realizes that is just something he'll have to accept, he finds himself frustrated with his inability to do so. His time may not be as brief as it once was, but he should still attempt to make the best of it, lest Glacius find he's wasting his time and—

Stop. Carlisle manages to quell that spiral by falling back on bad habits -- ones that have been redirected in a more positive direction than before, but arguably bad nonetheless. Glacius would disapprove of such thinking; he might not consider Carlisle to be a disappointment, but he would disapprove all the same. If he cannot think better of himself for his own well-being, he should do it for Glacius, his partner for whom he'd do anything.

If nothing else, his guilt has always been a strong motivator. He reaches for Glacius' hand, wanting to envelop himself in his partner's arms; there is no place he feels safer, even from the tempest of his own self-loathing.

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