Event Post: Everyone Chill

[hadrielmods]

Who: Everyone participating in the event!
What: The event log for Tranquility's resurrection event!
Where: All around the city
When: December 27th-January 7th
Warnings: Absolutely nothing creepy or weird at all.

The revival of Tranquility on December 27th marks a vast - if temporary, and actually completely fake - change to the city. Upon awakening that morning, the inhabitants of Hadriel will find the city changed from its usual broken-down dour cave self into a sparkling, clean, delightful island city. Instead of being surrounded by hard stone walls, the city is surrounded by warm ocean waters and soft white sand beaches.

Gentle waves lap at the shore, the sky overhead is perfect, wide and open. The spires have been replaced by shining skyscrapers, the roads are clear of rubble and paved neatly. The stores are quaint, windows no longer broken, and the items inside have changed too. Instead of simple canned goods and strange clothing, you might find delicate pastries, cool drinks, fresh fruit, and flowy summer clothes to match the city. How nice! How calming, really. Didn't everyone need a vacation? So throw on some flip-flops, grab one of the mopeds that have been provided, and enjoy yourselves!

As the days go on, though, you might notice one or two odd things. Maybe the pretty sun hat you picked up looked, for just a moment, like a grubby old baseball cap instead. Maybe that beach ball is a little heavier than it should be. Maybe the shining wall of that skyscraper feels more like stone than glass. Maybe - just for an instant - the sky above was solid rock instead of the gentle, calming hues of the sunset.

While there is a mild compulsion toward calmness and tranquility, towards accepting the city for exactly what it seems to be, that can be ignored - and the illusion can be broken, if you choose to try. But do you really want to? Isn't that croissant much nicer than yet another can of beans? Wouldn't you rather relax at the beach than run around, trying to convince all your friends that this is just the gods getting inside their heads again in an even more creepy and all-encompassing way than usual?

Come on. Don't be a buzzkill.

► This log covers December 27th-January 7th.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you chill out so much you end up dead, please let us know here.

Comments

[glacius]

"I'm happy just being able to see the sky again," Glacius chuckles in response to Carlisle's first remark, though the sound is more tinged with sadness because he knows the sort of desperate longing that speaks to. He'll take that subject change that has been so kindly provided. "No, no, Makers. Of course not. It is far too warm for that sort of environment to be found on my homeworld! I'd actually never seen anything like it before I traveled to earth the second time... and as you might imagine, I was a bit too, ahem, preoccupied to enjoy it." A kind way for putting the brutal fights he had to endure as he scoured the lands for his technology.

"This is my first time actually getting to... experience it. So much open, unfrozen water... it's so strange... but it turns out, it's still nice and cold. Not as cold as I'd prefer, mind you, i-it's still perfectly safe for a human, but... nice enough to be a relaxing comfort. What about you? I'm guessing by your question that you've... never seen a beach before, either?"

[tongueamok]

"Not in person, no. Despite living near a river my entire life, I am not much of a swimmer."

Probably it has something to do with what could be lurking in the water, or the fact that most would traditionally swim in little to no clothing, or even the part where he's had neither the time nor interest in the activity to begin with. Maybe it's a combination of all three; either way, he finally grabs a hanger and pulls an outfit from the rack.

"I suppose this would be appropriate," he murmurs to himself as he eyes the shirt, grateful it will cover up certain marks he'd rather not be visible to just anyone. He's not going swimming, he reminds himself -- just visiting the beach, perhaps. Trying to keep the sand out of his jacket.

But then he turns the hanger around in his hand and sees that there are shorts included. "Or perhaps not."

[glacius]

"Oh? Well, that admittedly complicates my plan somewhat. You'd mentioned being worn out by the stairs... I've always figured that a bit of exercise would be good for you, though you never seem terribly interested in any of my routines. I had thought that swimming may be a more enjoyable way of getting your body adjusted to higher levels of activity..."

Glacius trails off in his musing as Carlisle picks something up off the rack. If the clergyman doesn't know what he's looking for, the ice alien admittedly has even less of an idea... but maybe that's going to work to their benefit, here. He's not worrying about inane standards, he's just trying to think of what would be most comfortable for his friend. "Oh... why not? I can say with certainty that out of all of the garish, revealing outfits I've seen thus far, that is by far the closest to the underlayers you normally wear. The color is even similar. I think it would look quite good on you."

[tongueamok]

Glacius and Carlisle differ in many ways, their physical fitness being one of them. Whereas Glacius is a warrior and exercises regularly to maintain the strength befitting of such a profession, Carlisle prefers to avoid wearing himself out with physical exertion, since he gets plenty of exhaustion from the mental gymnastics he does to put up with himself and the insanity of the city on a daily basis.

That, and the stairs. At least the four flights to the apartment he shares with Glacius isn't the eight it used to be to his old one.

Glacius compliments his choice in swimwear, and in the same breath, how the outfit would look on Carlisle himself, and the clergyman feels his face redden. Glacius is right, of course -- the other garments around the store are more revealing, even with the shorts that go along with the one he's holding. It's not that revelation that colors him though, burning the space just under his glasses; it's the thought he has a moment later as he thinks that, in order for one to have much of an opinion on how an outfit would look on a person, they must be thinking about that person's physique to begin with.

And Glacius has seen enough of him throughout their weeks of dealing with one another's injuries that he should be able to paint a fairly accurate picture of how Carlisle would look in said outfit. He's never cared much for his appearance, aside from keeping it in line with the regulations set by his order; however, to hear someone gauge it and assert that he'd look good in something is new and... flattering, actually.

It's a feeling he's not used to, and he's not sure why he is so stuck on it, but he blames the fact he's still trying to avoid thinking about the buildings all around them, tall and terrible. He pulls the outfit to him, his hands tightening on the hanger. "Right. Right, right. You're right. It does r- resemble what I wear under this- this jacket, doesn't it? A bit. C- colorwise. Might not be so bad, as opposed to everything else. And if you say I'd look good in it, I should trust your opinion. You'd- you'd know, I suppose."

[glacius]

"Well, I don't know about that," Glacius chuckles, the sound more wry now... but it's also ever-so-slightly tentative. Carlisle is starting to seem worked up or anxious again, and he's not sure if it's something he said, so he's trying to soothe it away with some humor. He was just trying to help his friend be more comfortable with the choice, not stress him out again! "I have no idea what a, ah, 'swim suit' is supposed to look like. But I've seen enough of them over the past couple of days to judge, and... more importantly, I know you. If you want to try it on before we head out, though, that would be fine... your opinion is the most important, after all. If you don't like it, we can try to find something else."

[tongueamok]

Carlisle eyes the garment again, his focus on it so intense that he might as well burn a hole right through the fabric; he's doing his best to ignore that burning sensation creeping across his face, frustrated that it's there and all.

"I think I will," he says with a nervous, lopsided smile, figuring the respite from Glacius' attention might help... somehow. He's not entirely certain, but he does head for the spare room in the back to do just that. "I'll only be a moment."

[glacius]

"Very well, Carlisle. I will be out here, um... s-standing... guard?" Not sure... what else to really do in this situation?? The nerves in the room have skyrocketed and it's rubbing off on him. "Make sure no one else tries to come in, or..."

Alright, yes. Turning around now, so that his friend can get dressed and they can just... get this over with.

[tongueamok]

Closing the door to the room behind him, Carlisle takes a moment to just breathe -- his face is still on fire, his mind turning over and over the fact that Glacius thought he would look good in- in, well, something that as just a longsleeve shirt and some shorts. It wasn't a sharp outfit by any means, not something his uncle Benistad would have picked -- he was quite a dresser, but Carlisle, in general, is more practical with his outfits. He's only really thought of what he needed to wear as part of his uniform for the clergy, and not much farther than that. If it wasn't something he could wear for that, or for sleep, then what was the point?

This has a use, he reminds himself. It's for swimming, or sitting on the beach while Glacius swims, or... something of that nature, out with Glacius. His friend hadn't meant anything by the comment, and surely hadn't thought too hard about how it would look on him. It was an offhand remark, Carlisle tells himself. Nothing to get worked up over.

But as his nerves ebb away, he can't help but wonder why it got him so worked up in the first place -- why what Glacius thought mattered. It's not as though the alien would suddenly shun him if the outfit wasn't fitting for him, after all. After all they'd been through together, they were close. That was all -- he is still adjusting to that camaraderie, Carlisle thinks.

With a sigh, he finally starts on the layers of his religious vestment, shedding them so he can slide into the shirt and shorts. The redness hasn't left his face as he steps out of the back, his old outfit folded neatly and tucked under his arm. His legs -- so rarely seen, given all the pants he wears -- are as pale as the rest of him, his feet going straight into his boots.

"I'm not sure the boots will do," he remarks, his eyes somewhere on the floor, his nose wrinkled as he steels himself for a review.

[glacius]

While Carlisle is in the back room trying just to breathe to calm his nerves, Glacius is standing by the door doing pretty much the same thing. He has no idea where the sudden spike of awkwardness came from, but he's guessing it has something to do with all of the little nuances of interacting with a human that he still has very little idea how to handle. He'd just been trying to reassure his friend, but the clergyman had no exactly seemed bolstered... and he's fairly certain that his first reaction to such a casual interaction was to stand guard isn't helping much, either. He just honestly hadn't known what else to do with himself at that given moment. He just needs a second to regain his composure, that's all.

So he's doing just that until Carlisle finally comes out of the back room in his newly acquired outfit. The alien doesn't even turn around until the human actually speaks up, and at that point he flicks his gaze up and down the man once, trying to figure out what to say, since the earlier compliment didn't go over at all like he'd expected or hoped. Thankfully the clergyman's remark gives him something to focus on, and otherworldly being does spent a moment or too looking down at those boots as he thinks it over--no, they don't seem quite right, now what did all of the other humans on the beach wear...

"Ah," Glacius speaks up automatically as he recalls something, "Yes, one moment. There was a particular sort of footwear more suited to the beach environment-- one more suited to getting wet, easier to wash sand out of. Let me see..."

He backs up a few paces, holding up his hands as if to indicate he'll just be a moment, then turns completely and heads down another aisle. He spends some time rummaging, then ultimately comes back with some pairs of flip-flops--many pairs of flip flops, as he's realized he has no idea what size footwear fits his friend--of various shapes and bright colors. The ice alien crouches down and deposits them all neatly on the floor before Carlisle, then stands up again and folds his arms behind his back.

"There. I saw people wearing these on the beach. Find a pair that best fits, and I think that you will be all ready."

[tongueamok]

Despite his earlier embarrassment, Carlisle can't help but smile just a little as Glacius presents him with no less than eight pairs of sandals. They're hideous things, with thongs and flowers and the fact that they offer absolutely no protection for the feet whatsoever, but they do seem practical for footwear one would wear in the water. He's not sure why these are the preferred shoes for sand, what with them being so open.

But he's thankful more of the alien's attention is on the shoes than on the rest of him, so Carlisle peruses his selections, pointedly avoids all the ones with white on them, and finally chooses a large, black pair on the far end to fit his sizable feet.

Once he's slid out of his boots and into his new sandals -- and no, they are not comfier than they look -- he gives himself a look over. "Ready as I'll ever be."

[glacius]

Glacius watches Carlisle slip into the sandal with noticeable interest--he's never really considered all the different ways humans clothes themselves for various occasions, and experiencing it via his friends is probably the closest he'll come to experiencing it himself! Or maybe not, because he can read the clergyman's discomfort easily. He places a hand on his curving chin, trying to think of how to alleviate it.

"Would it... would it help if I put on something too? That way you're not the only one wearing something out of the ordinary." And that way, hopefully Carlisle will feel a little less like everyone's eyes are on him and him only!

[tongueamok]

Carlisle glances Glacius' way, then back to the tacky shirts lining the store. At least if everyone is paying attention to the icy giant in the gaudy shirt, no one will be looking at him, his shorts, and the sad excuse for shoes now on his feet. He can just focus on the crippling fear from impossibly tall buildings looming in the distance instead.

"Perhaps," he utters quietly. "If nothing else, I won't be alone in this travesty of an outfit, though I expect finding something to fit your, er."

He looks Glacius up and down, more comfortable doing it himself than he was with the alien -- or anyone else -- doing it to him. "... Particular stature might be a challenge."

[glacius]

"Honed through years of rigorous practice," Glacius chuckles, good-natured and receptive to the compliment... he might just be puffing up a little bit too! "Come, help me find something. And--don't worry, you're not a travesty in that thing. It's nice and subtle... not flashy our gaudy like some of those other outfits I saw. You have good taste." Maybe that's safer territory than complimenting his looks directly.

[tongueamok]

"Ah." Carlisle seems to take the remark about his taste in colors better than the one about how he'd look in a certain outfit, as the former doesn't have the implication of Glacius imagining him in various states of dress. That kind of attention is so foreign to him that he's still not certain how he feels about remarks like that, especially coming from someone he's admittedly fond of. They aren't just roommates; Glacius actively wants to spend time with him, which might be more interaction on a personal level than Carlisle is quite ready for after basically being a hermit for years.

But he's adjusting more and more each day -- it's a slow, but steady process. He swallows the lump building in his throat and heads for the racks, trying to decide what might look... appropriate on Glacius. Now he's the one trying to picture Glacius in clothing, and it's an odd mental picture, given he's rarely seen the icy giant wearing anything at all. How would these awful shirts look on him, pulled taut by his spikes? How does one fit his craned neck and the curve of his arms into the sleeves?

Those are thoughts that make Carlisle distinctly uncomfortable in an indistinct sort of way, likely because he's picture the fine stitching ripping from being wrapped around the alien's muscular frame. Maybe if they're careful, they won't have to ruin any of the garments. He picks up the largest one he can find -- a red one with a jungle setting, why a jungle -- and holds it up, trying to picture his friend in it. He sighs, not having the imagination for such things; he seems to have plenty for his fears and paranoia, but none for clothes shopping.

"This might do."

[glacius]

Glacius is thinking over all of these questions as he walks up to Carlisle and takes the shirt from him, realizing he hasn't exactly thought this whole process through. It's going to be more of a challenge than he initially thought--but then he's faced down much more arduous trials than this, surely. How hard can it be?

Hard enough, apparently. The garment is miraculously big enough to fit across his shoulders, and he manages to slip one arm into the first sleeve-- but when he flexes it the two spikes that jut from his elbow punch right through the fabric with a loud tearing sound. The ice alien's cheeks flush immediately when he realizes he's already managed to completely fuck up something as simple as putting on a shirt.

"I'll just--" Now the powerfully built warrior attempts to fix the situation by flipping the shirt across his back, but it snags in the spikes that jut out from his upper arm and shoulder... annnd now he's effectively snared his whole arm up in the fabric, unable to move it much. Glacius goes completely still in his mortification... and then the whole thing comes undone, as the fabric pulled too tightly over his muscles and spikes finally comes apart at the seams. The ice alien can only stare in stunned silence at Carlisle as he attempts to process the unmitigated disaster, as the shreds of the unfortunate garment either dangle from the points of his spikes or flutter to the ground at his feet.

[tongueamok]

For half a second as Glacius takes the shirt and starts to maneuver into it, Carlisle thinks it might not be so bad; however, at the sound of the first tear, he crosses his arms and puts a hand to his jaw, covering his mouth so poor Glacius doesn't have to see the grimace crossing him. It only gets worse the more the bulky alien tries to fit into the shirt, and before long, there isn't much of a shirt left -- just tatters lying all around him and clinging to his spikes.

Pulling his hand from his face, Carlisle opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes. His eyes flick to Glacius', his lips pulling themselves into a crooked smile as he fights back a moment of laughter -- he learned his lesson in laughing at an alien with Algidus.

"Well, it's. Hm." Up his eyebrows go. "That one probably wouldn't have fit anyway."

[glacius]

"P-probably not!" Glacius agrees, perhaps a little more vehemently than he needed or meant to. He can see that crooked smile, and he's guessing it's not a expression charmed by how dashing he looks at this particular moment. The alien's mandible twitches strongly, which causes him to flinch back when that shattered bone of the ruined one tugs painfully against scar tissue. On the plus side, it pulls him out of his mortified stupor.

"I, ah. Didn't quite think that whole process through," the ice alien mumbles, rubbing gingerly at the side of his face. "It's going to be extremely difficult to fit into any of your human garments with my various spikes... perhaps I should cut small slits into them to facilitate the process?"

[tongueamok]

"Yes, ah" — Carlisle chokes back a laugh — "that is an idea. Slits. Good. Let's try that."

A chuckle escapes him as he turns away, finding another huge, equally hideous shirt for this alien friend. He digs out a small knife from his satchel, and after another cursory glance over Glacius, cuts a few openings here and here.

"There," he says, tucking his tool away and unbuttoning the garment. "I'll help this time."

[glacius]

The embarrassment Glacius feels at that moment is so fierce that it actually makes his spine go rigid and his hands clench into fists as his cheeks flush an even darker purple; while Carlisle is busy making little cuts into the latest monstrosity of a shirt, he's trying to work himself out of that self-conscious tenseness. He refuses to be bested by mere... mere fabric! If humans can do this, then he, a proud and advanced being, should be more than capable as well... never mind the fact that the shirts clearly aren't made for someone of his build or unique anatomical features.

He accepts the new shirt from Carlisle, obviously not too thrilled by the garish colors and patterns on this one too... but he put himself up for it. He's also surprised that the clergyman has already made the needed cuts--he'd been intending to do it with his own shifting abilities, but this makes it a little easier. "Right. Good, you've got more experience with this than I. Shall we, ah... hm. It does go over one arm first, correct?" Please tell him he got that much correct in the very least.

[tongueamok]

"One arm," Carlisle explains, setting his folded garments on the store counter and using both hands to spread the shirt, "then the other with something that opens from the front."

He steps up to Glacius' side to help him get his arm through the sleeve without tearing it, no longer even thinking about the windows all around or the buildings lurking just beyond the store's walls. "This side first, and then we'll pull it over your spikes."

[glacius]

Glacius will be happy to notice that his own embarrassing struggles have at least fulfilled some purpose... when he's not so busy attempting to overcome them, that is. This time he's being much more careful... when Carlisle helps him work his arm into the first sleeve he does so bit bit by bit, instead of attempting to pull it on all at once. He works his elbow gently until he's finally worked the two short spikes that jut from it through the cut that's been made there, and the rest of his arm slides into the sleeve fairly naturally from there. Working it down over the various spikes that protrude from his bicep, deltoid, and shoulder is a little bit more difficult, and their many points do snag in the fabric here and there, resulting in a few small tears... but ultimately the damage to the shirt is minimal by the time they've managed to get it in place across his broad shoulders.

The alien puffs up again, feeling a moment of accomplishment for completing this task... but the movement makes the fabric pull against his icy skin, and it sparks a damnable awareness that he is, in fact, wearing a foreign article of clothing. Not only is it not very comfortable being constrained on cloth, but the patterns and colors are far too garish for his tastes. He frowns again, looking up to Carlisle as the embarrassment settles back into place over his features.

"... I look... ridiculous." Which was the point, he realizes, to distract Carlisle from his own get-up... it's just such a vast departure from how dignified he prefers to present himself as!

[tongueamok]

"A little, yes," Carlisle admits, that apprehensive smile he'd been wearing on account of his nerves much more authentic by the time they get the shirt around the icy being. He looks Glacius up and down once more -- no, they definitely will not be able to button the garment with the way it tugs at him already, even with the alterations they've made.

"But I do appreciate it," Carlisle concludes, picking at his sleeve as his eyes go from Glacius to one of the windows and back again.

[glacius]

The authentic smile and genuine thanks seem to be enough to better settle the towering ice alien. "Well... that's what really matters. If it helps you feel better, then I can put up with a temporary, ehm, inconvenience. Just... don't tell any of my people about this get up, alright?" Glacius gives a quiet little laugh under his breath, attempting to fight off the rest of his embarrassment with a little bit of good old-fashioned self-depreciating humor. "I'm technically not even supposed to be wearing red..."

Then he tosses his head, giving another small snort. "Shall we head out, then? If we're wearing these outfits, it might as well be for a reason."

[tongueamok]

And there goes that smile, flattening out as a fearful notch etches into Carlisle's brow. It doesn't come from the alien's suggestion that they get moving, but rather the moment Glacius mentions he's not supposed to be wearing that color at all. His nerves return in full force.

"Oh, um. We could find another shirt, if need be. I didn't mean to pick a color you can't wear. Should've asked, really. Or even thought to ask. I just- I didn't think much on your people and what they can't wear, since you don't exactly wear clothes on a daily basis. Not that" —he reddens just a bit again— "that's a problem or anything, obviously. Wouldn't have agreed to move in if it was, so it's not. Just leaves me unsure as to what attire is and isn't appropriate for a lad like yourself--"

Better stop him, Glacius.

[glacius]

And stop him he does--blinking, at first, as more and more words tumble from Carlisle's mouth, then holding up a hand. "No need to worry yourself--you know how I am with safeguarding and honoring my culture. If it was a serious violation I would have said something before we put the silly thing on. It's more that we... do our best to avoid most warm colors in our garments. They're reminiscent of fire, which we view as a dangerous and all-consuming threat," now who has said those exact words before? "--So we prefer to reserve it solely for cautionary purposes, on technology or weapons or near hazardous environments. But it's not a crime to wear it... in fact, one of the Grand Councilors often adorns himself with a crimson cape. He used to lead a sizeable portion of our military's ground forces, you see, and thus wears the color as a warning to others--and reminder to himself--of the dangers of conflict. It's just not the sort of thing any of us would wear in common garments... but, hah, there's nothing common about this, now is there?"

A beat, and Glacius huffs out a little laugh. "Besides, I'd rather not go through the whole ordeal of dressing myself again. It's fine, Carlisle. Be at ease."