hadriel_logs | Dreams and Nightmares as Real as the Here and Now [closed]

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Dreams and Nightmares as Real as the Here and Now [closed]

Who: Glacius (

glacius) & Carlisle Longinmouth (

tongueamok)
What: It's about time the two (now) roommates discuss what haunts them when they're not awake.
Where: Spire 2, 401 - Glacius' apartment and kind of Carlisle's, too
When: December 17th, night
Warnings: PG-13 for disturbing imagery (probably)

When a man lived with as many fears as Carlisle, a restful night's sleep was not something so easily obtained. His dreams were usually dotted with their fair share of nightmarish imagery: the colorless, barren land his soul would be damned to upon death; a vampire ripping out his throat, only to raise him as a thrall; the Inquisitors and their masks, emotionless as ink poured from his mouth, suffocating him. This night, it had been the abominable insects that devoured his father alive -- in the dream, they emerged from the dark shadows of the room, thousands of them swarming him, crawling into his skin and beneath his nails, their spindly legs emerging from his nostrils and mouth, pushing out his eyes and—

He awoke with a jolt, brushing at his arms as he fought the sweat running down him, as well as that crawling feeling that often accompanied such bug-filled nightmares. It would pass once he caught his breath and his heart stopped pounding, the thundering so loud that it seemed to rumble through him. It wasn't until he heard that rumble again that he realized it wasn't coming from him at all, but the room adjacent to his: Glacius' room.

In the weeks that Carlisle had been staying at the alien's apartment, tending to his wounds, he'd found that Glacius made few noises in his sleep -- a chirp here, the fluttering of gills there, but not much, if any. The rumbling, almost a growling now, was certainly odd, so much so that Carlisle wondered if he was asleep at all. But if he was awake, what was he growling at? And why hadn't he called out in warning?

Too many questions, Carlisle decided, and not enough answers. The rumbling continued, heavier, and knowing he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep as long as it was going on, Carlisle pulled on his robe and slipped out of the bed. With their rooms right next to each other, it only took him a few steps to reach the door to the alien's room, but in that time, a new noise had started: a hissing. It was a distinct sound so like Algidus that Carlisle froze with his hand on the knob, tension mounting him.

What... what if Algidus was still in the city? What if he'd followed Carlisle there and kept an eye on them both, waiting for the opportune time to strike? Or what if he was waiting on the other side, holding the mangled corpse of his friend, prepared to throw it at Carlisle's feet like some grisly trophy?

The knob rattled in Carlisle's grasp as the raspy hiss arose in the silence on the other side oft he door once more, and the clergyman tried his best to keep his paranoia at bay as he held his breath and cracked open the door, praying he would only see one alien, not two.

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Glacius had stumbled back to the apartment after a full day of working to quell the rabble-rousing that had spread through the city like an infectious disease. Reports had come in to the Guard of people being angered by slight and seemingly random offenses; alerts had trickled in at the start, but within a few hours it had become nearly incessant. The alien, a dedicated peacekeeper in his own world who had carried that aspect of his duties of to his work with Hadriel's Guard, had set out immediately to see if he could quell these disturbances before they escalated.

Those that had been angered, however, often were not willing to listen to reason, which suggested the interference of a particular god--the one that Glacius most despised. What was even worse was that there were some people that seemed to be actively instigating conflict, and before too long he found himself surrounded by a ring of angry humans, yelling and shouting at him as he tried to keep them back, from hurting others--or one another. Though he remained in control of his emotions, and kept his demeanor cool and neutral so as to not add to the anger infecting everyone like a disease, the ordeal had taken a lot out of him. He was exhausted when he finally laid down for the night... but his mind was too troubled for restful slumber.

The nightmare claimed him almost immediately; images of the angry crowd gathered around him formed and grew, fresh memories pinging off old ones, ones that he tried his hardest to leave buried. No longer was he surrounded by a ring of people in a beaten street; no, he was standing in arena with harsh lights blinding him, the rows of seats lining each wall packed with humans--raucous jeering filled the air, some spurring him to fight, others calling for the dangerous alien interloper to bleed and die. Glacius didn't want any of that--he didn't want to fight, to hurt someone or be hurt by them, he just wanted to be freed from all of this, to be allowed to go home--

But of course it wasn't to be. His opponent leapt onto the arena before him with a guttural snarl--humanoid, covered in dark blue hair, with fierce yellow eyes and long fangs and claws. It advanced on him and a furious growl broke its way out of the alien's throat, loud enough to be heard by Carlisle in the waking world, who was up in the room adjacent to his. When the clegryman finally mustered up the courage to check in on his friend, there was indeed only one alien--but he was clearly greatly distressed, even in sleep. Every line of his body was tense and his limbs twitched madly as he fought for his life in his dream, still caught in the clutches of those painful memories.

While relieved to find Glacius alive and alone in his bedroom, Carlisle didn't think the way he was twitching and grumbling in his sleep was much better. After a moment of hesitation and debating on whether or not to intervene, he pulled his robe tighter around him and stepped through the door, pulling it closed behind him to keep the cold within. The chill of Glacius' room was a severe contrast to his own, the frozen pillars he kept within maintaining its low temperature. Though the entire apartment had a tendency to be chilly just because of its proximity to the icy being and his shards, the alien's bedroom was downright frigid by comparison to the rest of the dwelling.

The cold did not deter him much though, as Glacius' agitation became more apparent with every hiss that escaped him. Carlisle steeled himself against a shiver, crossing the room carefully and quietly, pausing again once he'd reached the bedside. He kept his voice low as he attempted to wake him:

"Glacius?"

A more direct approach might be required in order to pry the alien from his vivid nightmare. Amidst the raucous jeering of the gathered crowd and the furious barking and howling of his opponent--plus the sound of its claws clashing with his ice armor--the lower note of the clergyman's voice is all but drowned out. Glacius defends himself as well as he can, blocking blows here and there and liquidizing completely when the beast's jaws attempt to close over a limb.

"Concende," the otherworldly warrior growls lowly, "Please concede--I have no desire to injure you--"

His opponent does not share the sentiment. Sensing his wavering resolve, it rushes forward and rakes its claws upward, finally cleaving through his icy armor. On the bed before Carlisle the alien's body goes rigid, and his growling rises up into a pained cry.

Carlisle himself stiffens as Glacius does, a fearful reaction ingrained into him. Though the icy giant mumbles and growls something Carlisle has trouble making out, it is clear he's still gripped by his dreams, trapped within this nightmare... tortured by it, even.

With a breath in and out, the exhalation almost visible in the cold air around him, Carlisle tries again. He gingerly places a hand on the warrior's arm, hoping not to startle him.

"Glacius."

It's hard not to startle a traumatized alien who perceives himself to be in a life or death situation, but then Carlisle doesn't have a lot of options. When Glacius feels something else touch lightly upon his arm he perceives it as another threat, whirling about to face it--what this means in the real world is that he rolls away on the bed--thank goodness he's stripped the sheets and thus can't get tangled in them--as his glowing green eyes snap open, laser-focused on the human before him. All of his gills flare to emit another growl; though he's awake, his mind hasn't quite caught up to what's happening, or perhaps more importantly, what is no longer happening.

"I don't want to go back," Glacius rumbles, even though he knows his pleas will fall on deaf ears. The guards won't care what he wants--the only way to get it would be to fight with them, too, and he doesn't want to hurt anyone else.

When Glacius turns his way, the alien's eyes so intense and sharp, Carlisle steps back, fear seizing his every muscle. Despite their growing friendship, he still associates those glowing eyes with Algidus from time to time, especially when their focus is accompanied by the thundering of a growl -- and with as often as Algidus purposefully unnerved him, it's no wonder they rattle the nervous clergyman to the bone.

But this isn't Algidus, and more importantly, that look Glacius casts isn't for him; Carlisle realizes that belatedly, the alien's gaze unfollowing as he lands a pace from the bed, his body trembling from his alarm as well as the cold. In the dark, Glacius' voice reverberates, more intelligible as it breaks the silence.

"Glacius," Carlisle attempts again, his tone shaking, but solid as he puts his hands on the alien's forearm again, feeling the chill of his icy exterior beneath his ungloved palms. "It is a dream, Glacius. Wake up. You're here."

Glacius sucks in another sharp breath as he feels the human touch him again, expecting to feel a rough and demanding tug from a heavy, gloved hand--trying to urge him away from the arena, back to his sad little holding cell. That doesn't happen, however; no one pulls at his exhausted limbs, no one barks any orders out to him. Instead all he feels is a careful touch and the warmth from Carlisle's palm that has become familiar to him--because he's the only human who has ever touched Glacius like this, trying to soothe him long enough to pull him from the mire of his darkest memories.

The ice alien's body shudders and a freezing exhale gusts from his neck; his pupils dilate and he begins to slump forward, adrenaline leaving him as the worst of his anger and hurt pass. "I... I didn't want to go back," he repeats numbly, as if that will somehow explain why he'd been so highly agitated just a moment before.

The cool air billowing from Glacius' gills laces Carlisle's glasses with frost; he removes them with one hand and rubs the lenses against his robe to clear them, keeping his other on his friend to continue reassuring him.

"It was a nightmare," he notes calmly, his hand still pressed against the alien's forearm. He's not sure just how much pressure Glacius can feel through that icy layer that covers his underbody, but with the cold seeping into his fingers and stripping him of his own ability to gauge such things, he hopes what touch he's offering isn't too much. "You're here. I'm here."

He's not sure how much of an offering that is, but at least Glacius knows he's not alone.

"A nightmare," Glacius repeats, without lifting his head just yet. He repeats that a few times over in his mind until the memories that had been playing back so vividly in his dreams have a chance to fade, and the real world begins to slip back into place. There's a soft mattress beneath his body, not a hard, uncomfortable floor. His hands and feet are unbound. It's completely dark in the room, not a single harsh light shining in his eyes... and even more importantly it's completely empty, save for he and the clergyman.

Now the ice alien finally looks up, actually seeing Carlisle for the first time--and the relief he feels is so palpable that he can't help but clasp his own hand over the one that the clergyman has on his arm. Apparently his presence is a perfectly good offering, because he sweeps a large thumb over his friend's knuckles a few times like he's trying to convince himself of the reality. "Th-thank you," Glacius murmurs, attempting to find his voice. "Thank you for waking me, I... I probably woke you up, didn't I?" Now he dips his head again, feeling a shock of shame that his friend had to be bothered by things that he tries to keep buried. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have had to have heard any of that. I just... it had seemed so real..."

Edited 2016-12-19 04:05 (UTC)

Carlisle's eyes dart to the alien's hand atop his own; he reddens from the way Glacius caresses his skin with a sweep of his thumb, a smile crossing him as he is reassured in his making a difference, in his usefulness to his friend.

"I was awake, I assure you," he says to ease Glacius' immediate concerns. "And even if I hadn't been, your well-being is important to me, even if I only protected you from a figment of your mind."

A small smile begins to slip into place over the alien's features--that too is familiar, as familiar as the touch that had woken him from said figment, and he's so very grateful for it. "Ah, always so concerned. Thank you, Carlisle, but... what were you doing awake? Is everything alright? Do I need to check the stairwell or immediate perimeter of the Spires for any disturbances?"

That gets a chuckle out of him, his smile widening despite the circumstances under which he came into the room.

"No no, but I do appreciate the offer." And he will probably take Glacius up on it at some point, as long as he's sharing the apartment. "I don't often sleep well, and I happened to hear you, and thought that, ah. That, um. I would check on you."

That took him more effort than he should have needed for a simple explanation, but that hand on his is making him nervous for some reason. Maybe it's his general lack of physical contact, or that it's a level of closeness he's still adjusting to, but either way, he feels his face burning in spite of the cold air.

Edited 2016-12-19 05:14 (UTC)

Glacius, meanwhile, has managed to forget that he's even placed his hand over Carlisle's--he was too caught up worrying about how much the man heard of his nightmare, and now is too caught up worrying up what might have woken him up. That, and the man placing his hand on him has come to be such an automatic gesture of reassurance that he hadn't really been... thinking about it so much--but when he realizes he is prolonging the contact to the point that it's becoming awkward, he immediately releases the clergyman and averts his eyes, his own cheekbones taking on a slightly purple hue... not that it's easy to see, given how dark it is in the room.

"Yes. I-- well, I'm sorry if I worried you. I appreciate you checking in on me, but it is like you said, it was just a nightmare--a figment. You, ah... you shouldn't have to worry yourself over something so harmless." Physically harmless, anyways. Now that he's thinking about it again, he seems to be having a harder time settling.

As Glacius releases his hand, Carlisle pulls it back, clasping one hand with the other -- he can still feel Glacius' cool touch against him, and in that moment, he wonders why he's so fixated on that sensation to begin with, and why it matters so much to him.

He busies himself by rubbing at his arms, sure it's the chill that bothers him. "Harmless only in one sense, Glacius," he corrects, averting his own eyes in tandem with the alien. "But what plagues us each night does have an effect on us, even if the wounds aren't physical."

"Well... it's not..." Glacius pauses, debating how much he wants to divulge here. "It's not... each night. I have had a long time to put what happened behind me, and have more or less come to terms with it. But every now and again..." He sighs, heaves a helpless shrug. "Every now and again something happens that reminds me of it, makes those old scars feel like fresher wounds. That's how it was today, with the crowds... all those angry humans, calling for conflict..."

Though he cannot see the hesitation on Glacius' face in the dark, Carlisle hears it in his voice.

"They open the wounds anew," he offers as an ending for Glacius' thought as he crosses his arms. "I, too, have had some time to reconcile the years behind me, and yet the injuries still sting, as you well know."

Glacius had been, after all, the only one to learn why he was so tormented by his own self-doubt. He pauses a moment, considering whether or not he should pry, and decides that he must do for Glacius as the alien has done for him time and time again. It is his place not only as clergy, but as his friend.

"Tell me of your troubles."

The ice alien hesitates for a moment or two longer. Really, he's embarrassed enough at being caught out during a nightmare, or at letting the clergyman see just how much it had effected him. A part of him would rather try to coast right on by that, so that he can attempt to act unbothered by it, strong and unshakeable as ever. On the other hand... Carlisle has already seen him much more consumed by his woes, and hadn't presumed to judge him for it; he knows that talking to his friend is a safe and therapeutic outlet by now. He also knows that he doesn't really have room to protest, given how he'd repeatedly invited the human to share what was on his mind, believing that talking about his troubles would hopefully help in excising them. He wouldn't be able to suggest such a thing in the future if he wasn't willing to open up now.

"... Very well, Carlisle," the ice alien finally concedes, rubbing at his forehead wearily. "Perhaps you should... ah." He'd been about to suggest that the clergyman should come sit down, so that he wouldn't have to remain tiredly at his feet throughout the whole story, but he'd realized that he'd covered his mattress is covered in icy shards shed from hail in an attempt to make it a little more comfortable for a creature like him. Glacius scoots forward on the bed so that he can swing his long legs over the side, beginning to stand.

"Perhaps we should relocate, first."

Having expected Glacius would brush him off -- it's fine, he'd insist as he turned the topic to Carlisle's own sleeplessness -- Carlisle is pleasantly surprised to hear the alien acquiesce.

"Gladly," he replies as his arms tighten around him, his robe doing very little to keep out the chill. He steps to the door and opens it for Glacius, taking himself into the den to find a seat on the couch. At least it's not covered in ice.

He rubs more frost from his glasses, his hand trembling as he gestures to the other side of the couch and to the sitting chair across the room, inviting Glacius to join him. "You only need to tell me what you feel comfortable with," he adds. "You have been so kind to listen to my woes that it'd be in poor taste if I did not offer to hear yours."

"Well, I... talking about this is never really, ah, comfortable," Glacius responds, easing himself down onto the opposite end of the couch; the cushions depress and the furniture creaks under his weight. "They are not happy memories, but more over I do not know if I have ever just... come out and talked to anyone about it like this." Kate knew, but that was because she saw it happen to him in his dream... though he had talked to her in length about Cinder. He supposes this shouldn't be too different.

"I'm not sure where to even start with this," the alien finally confesses. "So let's figure that out. How much have I told you about my mission to earth..?"

"You said you were exploring, I believe," Carlisle replies, feeling the couch cushion lift beneath him as it adjusts to Glacius' weight, the icy being's far greater than his own, given all the muscles and ice and that extra head of height. "And you mentioned an Ultratech who held you hostage?"

That name keeps coming up -- curiously, Algidus has mentioned them, too. He'll have to ask about that later, when Glacius isn't so troubled by his nightmares.

"Ultratech," Glacius parrots, his tone immediately dropping to something more contemptuous. "Yes, that is correct. After crashing-landing and recovering from my injuries, I immediately set out to look for supplies with which I could repair my ship--hoping to take back up into the starts before anyone could find it. Unfortunately, the only place to find supplies is in populated areas... it was late at night, I thought I could move about undetected. But Ultratech was so powerful that their influence extended even to local law enforcement... so when they found me, they immediately alerted the corporation. I could have escaped, but I didn't want to fight--I didn't want to risk hurting any of the humans, and besides, I had no idea... what terrible fate awaited."

The ice alien pauses, then shakes his head as he gives a bitter, ugly chuckle. "The chairman of Ultratech told me that my confinement would be for my own good. I allowed them to take me to their headquarters, where I learned the awful truth behind that lie. They imprisoned me in a small cell, my body caught up in heavy restraints that made it impossible to move... and as I stood there, trapped, I had to listen to them discuss what they were going to do with the dangerous alien they'd captured. In the end, it was decided that I couldn't be released; my only use to them would be as a subject of their unique brand of 'scientific research', and as a spectator sport for the rest of humanity."

Glacius pauses and takes a breath, feeling his voice starting to get shaky despite his best efforts to keep himself composed. Remembering how he was so badly wronged was bad enough... but remembering how he had been perceived had hurt, when he had done everything in his power to never hurt anyone. The nightmare that he had just awoken from also meant that the memories of the heartbreak, pain, and fright that he had suffered were coming back more vividly now; he still remembered precisely how it felt when he learned of the only way they would allow him to see his freedom, and of the pain and deeply personal indignity of being treated like an experiment made his soul burn. They tried to strip everything from him.

Carlisle leans forward, his brow knitting in concern. "They made you fight," he says quietly, remembering what Glacius had told him about that shade of Cinder that appeared in the city. "Against your will, for entertainment. That's barbaric."

And humans could indeed be barbarous creatures -- he's seen that first-hand himself with his curse.

Carlisle gets a quietly appreciative look for his vehement sentiments before Glacius' expression becomes troubled once again. "They did. They told me that the only way they would let me go is if I fought in and won their Killer Instinct tournament. In reality, they had no intention of letting me go... they expected me to die in the process. They just wanted to test their various weapons on me, be it biological or technological, and to prove that humanity was the superior species in the process... but I was adept at fighting. And to add to their frustration, I was able to end my fights by rendering my opponents unconscious or otherwise disabling them--never taking a life, despite the numerous ways that I suffered for my mercy. My armor cracked, my flesh was rent--my blood spilled time and time again. There... there were live audiences at a lot of those fights. The humans around me cheered..."

Glacius takes a shuddering inhale, rubbing at his forehead with both hands. "...That's... that's what the nightmare was about. The fights, and that crowd... the terrifying and painful ordeals that I suffered, and the people that watched it all happened and encouraged it to continue. At best, I was sport to them--some of them cheered for me, but I took little comfort in being celebrated only for the harm I could cause another. And at worst..." the ice alien can only shake his head again, "... at worst, I was a dangerous threat--the faster I died, the better, and they were not shy about letting me know that."

While Carlisle believes the capacity for cruelty exists in all people, humans -- in his world as well as Glacius' -- seem to have an acquired taste for it. Are they like that everywhere? Is there something within humans from all worlds and times that makes them predisposed to such brutality?

He cannot even begin to guess, given he's an outlier. Perhaps if he were more like the rest of his family, he'd believe differently. He'd assume his weaknesses might make him inclined to be compassionate, but his warrior of an uncle was one of the most caring people he's ever known. There may be a connection, but he's not seeing it, and he doesn't have the time to parse it out at the moment.

"You are free now though, aren't you?"

That only gets another chuckle from the alien, deeper this time and every bit as bitter. "Am I? I am trapped within the walls of this cave. My ship is lost to me. I can't even see the stars at night, let alone a way back to my people. And just as it was before, my suffering is still a source of entertainment and power for the depraved beings that oversee this vast prison. I am still a prisoner... only this time I have not even been afforded a way to earn my freedom, and it is not just my body that is their plaything, but my emotions and my mind as well."

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