You can recover.

[glacius]

Who: Glacius and whoever; open and closed starters within.
What: After a couple of weeks of mourning and attempting to heal, Glacius attempts to reintegrate into life in the city.
Where: Various locations-- Guard headquarters, Emily's shop, Glacius' apartment
When: 12/4, 12/8
Warnings: Talk of physical/emotional trauma.

City Streets OR Guard Headquarters - OPEN

It had been some time since a demon had possessed Emily, and Glacius had not been faring well since. The violent act that he'd been forced to commit to end that conflict--plus the scarring that had resulted from his injuries, a permanent reminder of his failure to his friends-- meant that he'd spent every day since in a wavering state of emotional and physical stability. He'd always been a reclusive creature, but now he rarely ventured outside of his apartment... and if he did it was almost always at odd hours of the night, when he was sure most people would have already retired. It wasn't as if he had been sleeping well as of late.

The only thing keeping him from sinking completely into the mire of his depression were the daily visits by Carlisle, who saw to the alien's wounds and helped him grapple with his demons when it was needed. Little by little, the alien had been taking heart from the clergyman's unwavering support... and he knew that eventually, he was going to have to start putting his life back together. He still had a duty to the guard, and to his friends... though how many of them would even consider themselves that after hearing of what had done, he wasn't sure. He would have to find out at some point, but right now all he felt capable of doing as slowly edging himself back into his duties and familiar old routines.

That meant that today, at the crack of dawn, the alien was up--and after donning the partial set of armor he now possessed in order to cover the worst of his scarring, headed out to resume his patrols. After that he spent most of the day at the Guard's headquarters, doing his best to catch up on on paperwork and reports that had piled up in his absence. That sort of busywork proved a suitable distraction for the alien at least, giving him something concrete to fixate on instead of his own worries. He double checked and then triple-checked his work, then spent time making sure everything was neatly filed and organized. He spent some time cleaning up the desk he'd been assigned and then, finding himself still wanting for things to do, read through the reports of other members--even going so far as to fill in where he could or re-organize the ones that clearly didn't have any effort put into them. The whole time he worked quietly, expression still masked behind his alien helmet, only engaging in conversation when he was approached--and even then it was more clipped than he usually was. At least they weren't in the middle of the gods' games--it meant that the office was fairly quiet, and very few people came or went.

Emily's Lakeside Shop- CLOSED to Emily

Eventually Glacius exhausted everything he could possibly do, and at that point he decided to head back to his apartment... he was weary anyways from his poor sleep, and it meant that his personal troubles caught up to him easier. The odd light of the cave was waning as he crossed the bridge that would take him back to Spire Two, where he currently resided... but just beyond that sat the shewing shop where he knew one of his friends worked, and the alien found himself frozen in place as he stared at the establishment in the distance, thinking of her. A part of him longed to reconnect to Emily, knew that a good friend probably would have gone to see her by now, to make sure she was holding up alright... but the last time she had been through something this cave had put her through, she hadn't wanted to talk to him about it. He could imagine she would want that even less now, given that he had a direct hand in her fate. She was probably better off without him, in all honesty.

... And yet nonetheless, he couldn't resist the urge to at least see if she was there. He didn't have to engage her, he told himself--he could just look in one of the windows, and make sure that she had been brought back, that she was alive and well. Glacius crept quietly towards the sewing shop, but when he was actually its grounds he found himself frozen again. The powerful mixture of emotions he'd felt earlier was roiling around himself full-force now... he wasn't sure how long he stood there staring, but he knew he'd fucked up when the door to the shop opened suddenly and warm light spilled out from inside the building to cut through the falling darkness--illuminating not only the path, but the armor-clad ice alien standing in it, immobilized by his uncertainty.

Glacius' Apartment, forward-dated to the 8th- CLOSED to Carlisle

It had been two weeks since the disastrous events that had sent Glacius into a downward spiral, and just a few days since the alien had begun trying to put his life back together. He'd managed to slide back into his old duties fairly seamlessly thanks to the distractions and sense of purpose they provided--though being seen by others was still somewhat difficult for him, thanks to lingering self-doubts and self-consciousness due to his scars, which he was still trying to keep concealed from most people. He'd at least managed to reconnect with those closest to him, and that had done a lot to make him feel like a person again, not just a monster hiding himself away completely for fear of what people might think of him.

And there was one person in particular that he had become close to, whose intervention and support had enabled the ice alien to even make these strides in the first place. Tonight Glacius wanted to make an active effort to show his appreciation for Carlisle's ceaseless efforts. He departed from the City Guard's headquarters a little bit earlier than usual so that he could stop by the shops and the bar for food and drink, respectively. Then he was back at his apartment, trying to have everything set up by the time the clergyman usually came by to check on him, and see how his injuries were healing. Looking over the spread he'd set out over a low table in the main room of his apartment, Glacius became acutely aware that he'd never made a gesture like this for a human before. There was a high chance he was going to fuck it up, and that nervousness was gnawing at his guts as he waited for his friend to show up... but if he could manage to show his appreciation for everything that Carlisle had done for him, and give him one night in which he could relax instead of worrying over him and whatever else he might currently be going through, then that would be worth it.

In the meantime the otherworldly being busied himself trying to clean up some of the lingering blood stains in his apartment, working distractedly until he was startled from his task that tell-tale knocking at his door.

Comments

sewing shop

[unfollowing]

Another day in the shop, and now the "sun" was setting, which meant it was time to head back to Chris's. Her appetite had slowly been returning (amazing, what several days and nights away from the house and the people she hurt could help a person), so at least she'd be able to eat some of whatever Chris made for dinner tonight.

It's almost nice, it being just her and Chris. She'd gotten used to having just him to depend on. She doesn't at all want the others gone, but--

It's all a mess.

But in any case, it was time to head back, so she packed up the day's project and headed out the door--

Only to find the one person she'd hurt who she'd started to feel like she really could stand to talk to again.

"Hey." The surprise in her voice is genuine, and not displeased. Sure, a bit flat, but that's more about how she's been feeling overall than seeing him. Her eyes shone in the dimming light, warmed by the fact that Glacius came to see her. He chose to come here, looking for her. (No way he stopped here just to stare at her stupid paint job on the front of the store. Emily's depressed, not stupid. "I'd-- I'd been meaning to go look for you."

She shut off the lights and closed the door, shifting her bag on her shoulder. "How-- How are you?"

[glacius]

Glacius remains completely frozen as Emily speaks to him, trying to process that this encounter is now happening. Is she mad at him for coming here? For daring to show his face after what he did to her? She doesn't seem mad, or disappointed... but that could just be because she's too nice to tear into him right off the bat (or at least, that is his perception of her). Realizing that she's asked him a question and that he should probably respond to her, the alien takes a breath--seeming to restart, physically, as his body shudders once--and tries to reply.

"I... I..." he tries--but oh, now the problem is that he has no idea what to say to her. What do you say to a person who looked up to you, who trusted you to protect them, who you failed so thoroughly? Nothing feels right. Nothing except the ugly emotions that have been roiling around inside his chest ever since everything went so horribly wrong, that break out and spill forth from him now that he's actually standing before her again: "--I'm sorry..."

Sorry that he didn't come to see her before now, sorry that he couldn't be half the protector she thought him to be. Sorry that she had to suffer so much, that he couldn't do a thing relieve her of that. There is so much that is wrong about this situation and Glacius doesn't have a clue how to make it up to her, but now that he's here he might as well try. He has to try, if she's going to allow his presence for the time being... he doesn't know how long he has until that changes. The only problem is that his voice refuses to cooperate with him now, and instead he finds himself lowering his head sorrowfully, the light from the shop glinting off the smooth, organic curve of his helmet as he moves.

[unfollowing]

Her eyes go wide. He's sorry? When she's the one who thought it was fine to joke around about making deals with demons?

"For what, for saving my life again?" She laughs, disbelieving, self-deprecating. "I'm sorry. I-- I killed my boyfriend and one of my friends. I hurt you and Carlisle--"

Her voice cracks, and she stops there. Clearly she's not over this yet. Or maybe she is, but the shame is still there, stronger now because she's standing in front of the best person she's ever met.

[glacius]

"That wasn't you," Glacius replies softly, still unable to lift his head. He doesn't deserve to even meet her eyes, right now. "You would never have hurt any of us... it was the demon, subverting your will and using your body and talents for its own evil ends. But I... I was the one who..."

The ice alien trails off brokenly, trying to keep his body from shaking under the weight of his own grief--but it's to no avail. His guilt and sorrow have become raw all over again now that he's actually standing before Emily, someone who means so much to him, whose life he was forced to take.

"... I never meant to hurt you, I promise..." he tries, even though he knows the words are useless at this point. He can't change what he did--it will mark him forever. Perhaps he deserves the scars.

[unfollowing]

Matt gave her so much shit for what happened that right now, hearing that it wasn't her doesn't do much to help her feel better. Emily doesn't deserve to share the same air as Glacius, and she sure as hell doesn't deserve his apologies. He didn't do anything wrong.

Anger swells up inside -- at herself, at the demon that treated her like a plaything, at the deaths and injuries it caused -- mixing with the guilt she feels so freshly because her friend (if she's even worthy of calling him that anymore) feels like he's the one who fucked up here.

"Stop it -- stop it, you didn't do anything wrong! I'm the one who made some stupid joke like nothing could go wrong. I played with fire and got people hurt and killed! I'm sorry, okay?!"

Sure, she sounds angry -- feels more like her old self than she has since her resurrection -- but there's no masking the shaking to her voice, clear evidence of the tears she's held back until she finishes talking and they roll down her cheeks.

[tongueamok]

Though two weeks have given Carlisle ample time to recover from both his magical fatigue and physical wounds -- and even get his clothing repaired so he's not walking around with horrendous tears in his clerical outfit -- it's the invisible wounds that still plague him from time to time. He's spoken to Emily, yet still feels he failed her, as his botched exorcism is the reason she was killed. He's contacted Chris, hoping to get a handle on his aural compulsion, but the mere thought of using such an ability purposefully makes his stomach turn. He's not just to nudge someone in one direction or another for his defense, but completely dominating a man's will for the sake of practice.

At least his efforts with Glacius are going better than expected. When he failed Emily, he in turn failed Glacius; the alien was forced to put an end to her to defend him. Him, of all people -- a member of clergy and one who should have been perfectly capable against a demon.

But he wasn't, as usual, and Glacius had been forced to step in. The act had wounded the gentle alien far more than the gruesome injuries he sustained during the fight. As Carlisle has been visiting the alien on a daily basis during the past couple of weeks to change his dressings -- sometimes remaining at his apartment overnight, just so he didn't have to trek home and put further stress on his own lacerations -- they've both been working on their guilt, using their personal experiences to commiserate with one another, to help each other understand and cope with their trauma. As it turns out, they have more than a few things in common. While he knew that to be true with Algidus, Carlisle has been surprised to find that the same goes for Glacius. Both the clergyman and the ice alien have a legacy to uphold, a lineage to honor; they have floundered in that regard, and are having to find ways to rectify it. The are worried their mistakes define them, and insist the other is not the monster he believes himself to be.

How one could suffer so much, yet turn out so benevolent and forgiving, is still a mystery to him. Carlisle insists he doesn't deserve such kindness. Of course, Glacius believes that about himself. Commonalities, indeed.

Leaving the house he shares with Kate and Faith (and Crow, apparently) after feeding his (still nameless) pet rabbit (?), Carlisle makes his way over to the clinic before heading to Glacius' abode. He picks up a few supplies, mostly things to replenish what he's been using from Glacius' own stock -- it's something he's been meaning to do, but just never had the energy for it. As he waits at the door after knocking, he straightens his jacket from under the box of provisions he's carrying: while he's got his repaired tabard on, beneath it he's wearing black coveralls rather than his usual jacket and pants. This clerical vestments could stand some additional reinforcing in certain areas, and this was the closest thing he could find in the stores to what he normally wears. He prefers blue, but it will have to do for his daily checkup on his alien friend.

But there's more that he isn't expecting waiting beyond the door.

[glacius]

It's all of these commonalities that Carlisle is dwelling on that have deepend the ice alien's appreciation, and lead to him attempting what he is tonight. The alien is still busily cleaning while the clergyman makes his approach, wanting everything to be as presentable as possible for his friend; the good thing about the unique makeup of Glacius' blood is that it doesn't take quite as much work to get out of things. The bad thing is that he can bleed a lot, and the sheer amount of it covering everything after he stumbled back to his apartment during that first, miserable night and had collapsed without seeing to his wounds means he's going to be doing quite a lot of hard scrubbing, regardless. His tendency as of late to get laser-focused on one task in an attempt to drown out his misgivings or self-doubt has seized him once again--he's trying to focus solely on the task of cleaning so he doesn't have time to think about any of the various ways his attempt to show his appreciation could go wrong, be it by being too forward, or saying the wrong thing, or... or anything else.

This intense focus means that, though he's expecting Carlisle in the back of his mind, he's completely taken off guard when he actually hears the knocking at the door. Glacius startles upright, accidentally clunking his face against the edge of the table as he moves--Carlisle will be able to hear that from his side of the door, plus a harsh burst of clicking in the alien's native tongue that may or may not be vehement cursing. There's a moment of silence as the otherworldly being attempts to regain his composure--flustered already, he's off to a great start-- and then the door clicks open a crack to reveal one glowing green eye. Seeing that it is, in fact, the human he's been expecting, Glacius opens the door wider and steps back to allow his friend inside.

"Carlisle. I am glad you could make it. How have you been, today?" the ice alien asks, closing the door neatly behind them--trying to act completely nonchalant about the spread of food and drink he's laid out in the main room, that is by now probably completely visible to the clergyman.

[tongueamok]

Though that clunk from beyond the door certainly did get Carlisle's attention, he's relieved to see Glacius is more or less unharmed by the time he comes to the door. The last thing either of them needs is more injuries. "I'm well enough," he answers, stepping inside. "I see you've been..."

He trails off, noticing the lack of blood stains and the table full of food. "What is it you've been doing, exactly?" he asks, casting Glacius with a puzzled look.

[glacius]

"I--" Glacius starts, cutting himself off as his operculum catch. Coughing and fluttering them all in a rhythm, he tries again: "...It's... for you. You've been working, ah, so hard for me lately, what with my injury and my heavy personal woes, a-and..."

The alien's voice had been wavering so much as his thankfulness for the aforementioned effort collides against his worries that he might mess this up somehow, but he believes for certain what he says next... so when he continues, his tone is calmer and more composed, closer to what one might typically expect of him. "You deserve a chance to relax. You deserve to know that everything you've done has not gone unnoticed, that you are appreciated... I wanted to show my appreciation to you, Carlisle. We've both been through a lot recently, have uncovered certain points of understanding and solidarity... and so I thought a night where we could simply sit back and enjoy some food and drink together without having to worry about anything might be... long overdue. Will you... will you join me?"

And now as he asks that last question, his voice is back to tentative again--though this time it's not from nervousness, but hopefulness.

[tongueamok]

His eyes flick from the room, where they'd been drawn once more, to Glacius, surprise alighting them. For him? All of that, for him?

Despite being cursed, he's been shown appreciation before for his work; much as his uncles and father were given gifts for their efforts, he's gotten a few in his time, rewards presented for a job well done. He hadn't been doing a job for Glacius -- it was simply a friend helping another friend, as he understood friends to do from time to time. He owed it to the alien, after all, as Glacius had saved his life, had kept an eye on him when he wouldn't even keep an eye on himself.

So he wasn't expecting such a gesture, and it shows as color blossoms on his face. "Oh," he replies simply. After all they've been through, an evening of relaxing doesn't sound too bad, if he's honest with himself. He could use it as much as Glacius could, and if there's one thing the alien's face tells him as he looks back upon it, it's that he worked hard for this. He deserves the night just as much as Carlisle does, if not more so.

He offers Glacius a soft smile, one brimming with gratitude. "I- I'd be honored, Glacius. Thank you."

Guard HQ

[circumitus]

It's been a routine. Something Rey has always needed. Having a routine gives her a plan, a goal to walk towards. Even if all it is is walking. That's what patrolling is, really. Walking. Very rarely has she encountered anything noteworthy, and even when there is she can't bring herself to waste her time scrawling words on a paper to report. She is no Chairborne Ranger, as her peers would have so 'affectionately' call it.

Was everything she remembered of such people even real? She can't help but wonder sometimes, in the muddled mess of memories inside her head. It hurts when she tries to dig in too deep, and can be difficult to pull herself out of. Bring her mind back to the present. It isn't until recent that she has been able to maintain such a state without going postal.

She won't let it happen again. Not now, not ever, no matter how unraveled her head might become. It had been easier not to think about her situation back home on most days, but now it consumes her. Heckles her in her sleep, and taunts her when she's awake. And all she can hear is the voice of that same synthetic woman who had infested this place with her disease. Who goaded Nick, and hurt Muscovy.

Her voice, that laugh, which drives into Rey's skull like knives...

'I have always wondered what defines you. The great divide between human and synthetic ends with you, doesn't it? And it just occurred to me... It isn't your memories, or the many fiends that live in your head.

'No...'

The door slams behind her, harder than it should.

'It is your BEATING HEART!'

Rey jolts, not sure at what point did her feet end up taking her back to the Guard's headquarters. But she's here.

This isn't the first time she has mindlessly wandered into places with no conscious reasoning. It is, however, the first time that she lands herself back in this place with someone already present.

"Ah, apologies." Rey shifts, as if sidestepping a sudden attack that no one can see. She falls quiet, neither moving forward nor retreating.

It isn't until she sees Glacius then that she recalls meeting the other ice alien, similar in appearance, but different in name and temperament. The only reason she hadn't come running to him afterwards was...

Well. She had distractions, to say the least.

"Not going to be here long. Just, um. Papers. Yes."

Rey isn't often one to bumble. But then, she doesn't look particularly like herself, either; pale-faced and darkened eyes. She might as well be a shuffling corpse of the woman Glacius had met previously.

/grabby hands yess it has been too long

[glacius]

The sound of the door slamming jars Glacius right out of his single-minded purpose, and he nearly drops the pen he'd been working with as his head snaps up. It's someone that he knows, and the alien wonders briefly if she's heard about what he did to Emily, if she'd slammed the door in anger and stormed in here to berate him... it quickly becomes apparent that isn't the case, however. If there was one thing that stuck in his mind about Rey it was her level head and calm composure--she seemed unshakeable, in a way, even when injured. That's been displaced now, and despite t he fact that he's been trying to keep his head down and avoid people recently, he can't help but be concerned.

"You're... here to fill out a report?" he asks dubiously--given that he's been reading over everyone else's work in his desperation to fill his time, he knows your usual handiwork, Rey. But perhaps she's seen something dangerous that's left her this shaken, something that people need to be alerted to..? "I was just in the middle of some of that myself. I can fill out yours, too, if you tell me what you saw... no need to bother yourself with this sort of thing if you are feeling unwell."

i've had a hankering for some glacius. <3

[circumitus]

At first she only blinks, as if trying to make sense out of his words. And maybe part of her is. It's been difficult to figure out the occasional jumble of sentences in between the bouts of sleep deprivation she's suffered these last few weeks. Some days are just easier than others.

While Rey herself might look like hell, seeing Glacius right now, she feels that one could very well say the same thing for him, too. She hasn't lingered around HQ enough to know the full details of every event that transpired when demons were about, but it doesn't come as surprise that anyone would be a little worse for wear in the aftermath of such things.

Not like she is one to talk, anyway.

"No. No, that's all right." She shakes her head, her growing bangs whipping over her darkened eyes annoyingly. "Just, um. Didn't realize that you worked here, too."

;3; too kind!!

[glacius]

Glacius blinks, surprised at that realization. Missing each other on patrols is easy enough to understand, but had they really never been staffing the headquarters at the same time until now? "I do. But, well... I have not been here in... some time, now. Things have been... difficult," to say the least, "And I wasn't much up to being seen by anyone. But I cannot hide away forever, right? I needed to... attempt to reintegrate myself. To be useful again."

[circumitus]

Stepping closer into the room, Rey folds her arms over her chest as she gives Glacius another once over. She hasn't seen much of him, but he does appear to have seen better days himself.

"Am sure that the sentiment is appreciated, but you don't have to worry about whether or not you're being 'useful' to anyone if you've been through some shit. Think we've all -- or at least most of us -- have been there."

Hell. Rey sure as shit knows she has.

backdated to the end of the demon event, lmk if this is ok!

[dedikated]

By now, Kate's mostly staying alert and awake thanks to a combination of bad coffee and determination. Don't sleep. Keep working. Keep fighting. Do anything but let your guard down around these things.

Do anything but submit to the likely nightmare of Hakkai's possession and the steady loss of everyone she's come to care about here.

She wanders the streets by now, as opposed to the rooftops, too tired to attempt springing from one building to the next. The demon infestation seems to be nearly drained, the odd green portals that spew them nearly all gone, making it safer to walk the streets. Letting Kate take her time as she crosses the city back to the clinic-

Letting her look closely enough to see the smears of dried purple that scar the ground.

Shit. The bile rises in her throat before she can get a grip on her now racing heartbeat, before she can think, rather than panic. No. No no no no no. He can't be hurt. He can't be. Shit. And after he had her back, after he helped her deal with an unbound, unhinged Hakkai. She wasn't even there to help him, not if it's dried - if it's that old-

Fuck. What if she's too late?

Kate kicks her legs into action, ignores the burn that means her powers would benefit from some serious rest, and pushes harder still, following the drops like they're some fucked up trail of breadcrumbs. She should have been there. Wherever there was. Fuck. Maybe she is too late. That's a lot of blood, enough that her head swims with the airy, indistinct sort of feeling that comes when she tries not to panic.

(She can't panic. If he's alive and she panics-

Just because people come back doesn't mean it's right. Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, that you're not disoriented or-)

Kate doesn't bother to knock on the door when she gets to the apartment, pushes her way in. There's no time to bother with niceties.

"Glacius?" Shit. Please be alive. Please.

looks good!!

[glacius]

Upon pushing her way into the apartment, Kate will see ice alien sitting on the floor of the main room--the once tall, towering being seems to have crumpled in on himself, his back and shoulders hunched and his head bowed under the weight of his own guilt, sorrow, and pain. At this point he looks more like a shell of himself than an actual, living creature... the mandible that juts from the right side of his face is clearly missing, replaced by stained gauze and bandaging that wraps sadly around his entire head, and the right half of his body is still slicked in his own blood. He told Carlisle he would clean himself up after the clergyman left for the afternoon, but he hasn't yet. He hasn't done much of anything, because he has no idea what to do with himself.

He hears his name in a voice he recognizes but he doesn't react. He's feeling deadened, after two nights of little to no sleep, and days full of too much agony. Inside, he's still a conflicted mess--a part of him wants to retreat to his bedroom and hide so that his friend won't have to see him weak, or worse, ask him how this even happened. He doesn't want her to learn what a monster he truly is, doesn't want to watch her recoil in horror and regret coming here...

But the other part of him is lost and hurt and so desperately in need of support. So he doesn't try to flee--instead he just flinches and hisses, his voice gravely and weak when he responds. "Kate... what are you... why did you come..." Whatever the reason, he's fairly certain he doesn't deserve it. Kate and Emily were friends, right? They made his sash together, something else he no longer deserves. If she finds out what he did... what then?

[dedikated]

Jesus.

If she were less tired herself, Kate might bother to hide the flinch that crosses her face at the sight of him (so much blood, so much goddamn blood), but instead it's there, quick and visible, like the way she instinctively grabs for the old worn leather of the back she keeps strapped to her thigh and runs her fingers over it repeatedly-

He's alive. At least he's alive. And healed, judging by the looks of things. Stable. Maybe that's the best word. Fuck. It really doesn't matter what colour it is, that's her friend's blood, his life force, the thing that keeps him alive and everything she's come to know and respect and care for. The bile burns in the back of her throat and Kate swallows. She can't break down, not now. Not after everything. This is the least she owes him, being strong enough to push past the hollow shock of panic in her head, the one that keeps her bolted in the doorway a minute too long before eventually making her way inside.

"You're hurt." Her voice comes out as if from another source entirely, distant and echoing in her ears, sounding so even that even she starts for a second when she hears it. It's as much an answer as it is a statement. His blood lies streaked across the city, stark evidence to any who recognise it of his path.

(She should probably clean that up for him, but this is more important.

He's more important.)

[glacius]

Glacius' body finally moves now, albeit slightly, as a deep and rumbling chuckle works its way out of him. The sound, however, is completely empty of any mirth--rather, it is a bitter noise, one morbidly amused at his own state. "It was well-deserved. Do the actions of the monsters in this cave not warrant their deaths?"

[dedikated]

She finally steps closer, slow and careful, her hand still running across the material of her pouch. Something to keep her heart steadier, to help her breathe when she steps closer. No words spoken, nothing but the deliberately even tone of her breathing and the sound of her shoes against the floor to fill the silence.

Kate crouches next to him, her eyes darting just over his head as she does. She can't bring herself to look at the mess Glacius is, not if she needs to keep her head.

(If nothing else, the shock has thundered through her body, vibrating across nerves and acting like a shot of espresso to her system. She feels more awake than she has in days, held together by the tension of trying to stay together. She needs to. It's the least she can do, after everything Glacius has done for her, for everyone here.)

"What happened?" The obvious question, maybe, but she won't comment on Glacius' words. On the fact that if he - of all of them - should be dead, then the rest of this cave - from the gods to the others brought here, should have been murdered a long time ago for their actions.

They've committed many a sin. The worst Glacius has ever done is defend himself, both here and at home.

city streets; on patrol

[pellameno]

Pell's out early this morning -- ever since Cal arrived he's been sleeping better, but there are some nights that apparently no company can save. And things have finally quieted back down in Hadriel, enough so that he figures once it's light out it'll be safe to venture to the orchard by himself. He sneaks out with his bag and closes the door quietly behind him, exhaling once he's alone on the street outside. It's not that he needs time to himself, it's that he needs to be doing something and everyone else in the house is asleep.

Most of the city is, it would seem. His steps echo slightly in the near-silence of the city, until he hears another set -- heavier footfalls than his own. It doesn't sound like a creature. A guardsman, maybe? Pell peeks around the corner of a building to see who it is and spots Glacius down the block. The alien is wearing his armor, which isn't surprising... Pell is used to seeing Henry in full armor, after all, and the other is patrolling. He glances down the street the other way, the way to the orchard, then makes up his mind and quickens his steps to catch up with the larger figure.

"You're out early," he comments, smiling up at Glacius.

! yesss

[glacius]

Glacius turns slowly, everything about the way he moves and holds himself muted, hollow even. This early in the morning he's still trying to get his feet back under him, going through the motions just because he feels like he should more than any particular drive to do so. He is also very wary, unsure whether or not word of what he did to Emily has circulated through the city... of course he had to do something to stop the demon that had possessed her, but the necessity of action doesn't make what he did any less horrific, in his eyes.

Pell, at least, doesn't seem to be angry at him, and the (not) human (he reminds himself) has always been personable company. Perhaps... perhaps this will be good. A bit of conversation with a being who's shown himself to be kind and helpful time and time again to slowly get himself accustomed to interacting with people again.

"I like to get an early start," the alien replies, his voice as muted as his body language. Everything feels hard to restart. "Walk the city for a little before too many people have risen, before it gets too crowded. What about you? What brings you out at this hour?"

Re: ! yesss

[pellameno]

"The continuation of a restless night, I suppose. Lying in bed wasn't doing any good so I figured I'd head out to the orchard and my garden." He tilts his head to say that they can keep moving if Glacius wants to walk. "Company wouldn't be amiss. But you seem... tired, maybe? Different."

It's hard to read the way Glacius is holding himself, but his tone is clear enough. Something's wrong, Pell's just too polite to come out and ask what it is. It was a rough few weeks for many of his friends, after all, Glacius may have had the same sort of struggles.

[glacius]

Glacius gives off a few clicks, beginning to walk as Pell gestures for them to do so. "Restless nights are something that I have become all too acquainted with, recently..." Which should be confirmation enough that Pell's assessment of him is correct. The ice alien goes quiet now, unsure how to comment on everything that he's been through, or if he even wants to. There's a lot of trauma involved and everything is a mess... sometimes all you can do is take things one day at a time.

[pellameno]

"...do you want to talk about it?" Pell's voice is as gentle as his manner, and he looks up at Glacius in his armor. The alien cuts quite a figure, like he's ready for something terrible. It makes him uneasy. With the frequency of dangerous events in Hadriel Pell isn't surprised he's wearing it, but it's still a bit jarring. "I can't imagine being in the guard here is easy."