hadriel_logs | Event Post: Everyone Chill

Entry tags:

Event Post: Everyone Chill

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 The spires have been replaced by shining skyscrapers, the roads are clear of rubble and paved neatly.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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Glacius has to think about that admission for a good second or two. Of course he knows he's different, but that word usually carried with it more negative connotations-- he was alien, he was other. He was a creature that didn't belong. But the way that Carlisle says it... it makes him feel like he's being embraced not just despite it all but because of it, and that causes a surge of emotion within the alien that he's not entirely sure how to identify. Whatever it is, he's glad that Carlisle is looking away, because he can feel it causing a purple blush to darken his cheekbones underneath his icy skin.

"I, u-uhm, I've never had anyone say that to me before," the otherworldly being responds, scratching at his mandibular support bashfully. "I have made so many friends here, people that I feel so blessed to have in my life... and yet there is a little part of both my hearts that wonders how much a being like me, so different from everyone else in this place, can really mean to them. I know that if given the choice, the humans here would likely rather spend time with a member of their own kind... and that is fine, it is only natural. But to hear my difference be celebrated like this, it... i-it..."

He loses the words somewhere along the line as that feeling flares to life again, like a cold and bracing wind inside his soul. Glacius fights hard to identify it, unsure if it's a sense of attachment, or gratefulness, or... or something along those line. Whatever it is, he's decided it's good. The alien lowers his head, the long curve of his neck bringing his forehead closer to Carlisle's. It's a gesture that he's initiated a couple of times now, but right now there's a whole lot of intentionality behind it.

"... It means a lot to me," the alien finally manages to finish, whether or not his friend chooses to accept the contact.

Carlisle glances over at Glacius as the alien trails off, struggling as much to find his words as Carlisle had his own. Perhaps it's because Glacius has so actively tried to protect him, not just from actual threats like monsters and demons, but even perceived ones, like the buildings behind them and what may be lurking just beyond his darkened windows at night. They may be irrational fears, but they have plagued him enough to keep him awake at night, which makes them real in his mind.

Or perhaps it is what they have in common that draws Carlisle to Glacius, and gives him pause when he tries to find just what to say. They both often feel like outcasts, both have lost their families, both represent a lineage that is hard to live up to. Both know the fear of torture, of being controlled, of being denied free will. Both of them struggle to believe they are less monstrous than their pasts would have them believe.

They have more often turned inward for solace, but as they've adjusted to living together, the two usually solitary beings are finding out they are stronger together. Carlisle is receiving the patience and understanding he desperately needs to cope with his nerves, both things he often denies himself; Glacius is getting the support he needs in his most troubled times, reassurance that he is not as lost as he may think.

And most importantly to Carlisle, he feels significant, needed. He feels, for the first time, that it's him who can make a difference for someone. Not his family name, not something he had the potential to do, but failed spectacularly -- him, Carlisle, as he is here and now.

Carlisle recognizes the way Glacius lowers his neck, knows what his alien friend is offering. It is acceptance; it is fellowship. He might not be able to put a name to that emotion lapping at his chest, but Carlisle has to admit that... he likes it. He likes that feeling of gratitude and warmth blooming within him, so foreign that he cannot fully identify it. It's like the wine of Fireclaw Country, imported and precious, exhilarating and addictive to drink because of its effects.

He might not know its name, but he knows he wants more of it, and so he leans forward and presses his forehead to Glacius', returning his offering of solidarity with a gesture of his own.

"It means a lot to me, too," he admits, his voice low, nearly a whisper beside the soft hiss of the ocean as it draws upon the beach. "Just that- that you wanted me out here so badly. You could have better spent this time with any of your other friends, but that you wanted me out here makes me feel as though I'm- I'm doing something important. Makes me feel as though I could do more."

After all, they are stronger together. Carlisle knows that to be true for himself, having seen what he's managed to do in the weeks they've spent together in close quarters, but he may someday realize it goes both ways.

Glacius doesn't seem to have words for that, though what happens next probably speaks volumes. Carlisle not only allows but return the gesture, which causes another wave of that indecipherable emotion to crash up against the inside of his rib cage... the ice alien shuts his eyes against it, and underneath the combined pressure of it all, the dam finally breaks. A deep roll of purring rumbles up from the very pit of this throat, but it's not a subtle or soft sound like the noise given off by most common animals capable of producing it. It is low and powerful as a roll of thunder... and over with just as soon, ebbing as the alien's eyes crack open to tiny green slivers.

"Of course you're doing something important," Glacius murmurs, his words coming back to him with his presence of mind. It's rare for the normally reserved ice alien to act purely out of emotion like that, but then it's rare for a member of his species to sit forehead-to-forehead with a human as they stumbled over their feelings. Gradually, he's getting to the point where he's not questioning every little thing about these interactions... and more than any bitter struggling or defiant fighting he's put up against the gods, that might be one of the greatest victories he's managed to achieve in this cave thus far. "Friendships are, that is what I have learned. And... on that note, I know we never really got a chance to talk about it, so... I... I'm sorry about Chris, and about Miriam. I know you were close with them. Just remember that I'll always be here for you, alright? I don't want you to feel like you have to bear any burden alone."

Glacius likely feels that moment where Carlisle stiffens, the rumbling catching him so off-guard that he pulls away and looks behind them toward the buildings, certain that's them coming to life. He's wrong, of course, and sheepish the moment he realizes that noise is instead coming from Glacius, rattling from the back of his throat and through the curve of his neck. It's not something he's heard come from Glacius before, not a chirp or a warble, or even a growl, but something less aggressive, like the purring of the kitten-kind when they were expressing comfort. However, the kitten-kind weren't icy giants, so their affection was a lot less startling.

But he settles back down as Glacius continues, a little closer to Glacius on the towel now that he's thinking about those buildings again, and Chris and Miriam. Glacius will be there, it's true... for as long as the false gods allow him to be.

He turns back toward the ocean, trying hard to swallow his apprehension and leaning toward Glacius again. "Perhaps we should save my burdens for another time," he says finally, desperate to not bring Glacius down when he's in such good spirits, "and enjoy this while we can, lest the false gods take it away from us tomorrow."

Or take one of them away.

"Are--are you sure?" Glacius protests, having of course noticed Carlisle's temporary retreat and feeling a little bit bad about it. He hadn't meant to ruin the moment, he had just been feeling... so touched and at peace that the vocalization just sort of happened. "Sharing in the sight of the sun and the sky and the ocean is important to me... but your mental well-being is even more so."

"I would rather be here with you than with my troubles," he admits, his brow knitting as that rare warmth in his chest begins to dissipate. Unlike with alcohol, it is not so easily recovered. "And if this is important to you, it is, of course, important to me. You wouldn't have dealt with me earlier and put forth the monumental effort to get me out here if it wasn't."

He's still not sure how he's going to get back, but he can think on that later, too.

"Well, yes... but I didn't 'deal with you' solely because I wanted something from you. It's more that I wanted something for you--peace of mind, I suppose, instead of having to feel stressed out and alone..." Glacius explains, trying to level a reassuring smile towards his friend. Of course, if he doesn't want Carlisle to feel either of those things than perhaps he should not be pressing on lost friends.

"There's nothing wrong with living in the moment.. and of course I am all too pleased to have you with me as well. So let us make the most of what we have been given, together." The alien nods, fishing around on the blanket for one of the bottles of water he'd brought down to the beach. All of the warm air is hard on his gills; despite his gelatinous operculum keeping the organs moist so respiration is possible, his voice is starting to feel a little dry and stiff in his throat, struggling to climb forth. After a moment of holding the bottle in his hand to cool its contents back down, he tilts his head to one side and splashes the water into the gills in one side of his neck, then the other. The flexible coverings of those biological vents work vigorously a few times, helping the liquid pass into his gills and airways. That's better.

"So then... would you like to come into the water with me? I need to cool off, but I don't want you leave you just sitting up here all by yourself." Of course, he by now knows how his friend tends to react to new experiences, so he holds up one hand, setting the bottle back down with the other--then, as a thought occurs to him, picks up another and offers it to Carlisle should he need a drink too. "We can take it bit by bit, of course, I'm not going to go dragging you into the deep right away."

Carlisle watches as Glacius uses the water to clean his gills -- or wet his whistle, or whatever it is he's doing -- and it occurs to him that the salt in the ocean is probably a bother to such things, especially if he's accustomed to fresh water, instead. That doesn't seem to deter the alien any though, as he immediately suggests they go for a dip.

"I am fine here, thank you," he says, though he does take the bottle. He doesn't open it just yet, instead holding onto it and wondering how much of it, too, is an illusion. "I believe simply looking at the water will suffice for now. All of it out there, just... going. On and on. Can't swim, again. Maybe I shouldn't risk it."

"You already know that I will not force you to do anything you do not want to do," Glacius replies, "But... well, I can teach you, if you'd like. It seems to me that not learning to swim is the greater risk, what with all the bodies of water in the city. It's a very practical survival skill, and you never know when you might need it... and besides, learning would a good way to take your mind off of everything else going on right now, would it not?"

He pauses, cast a quick glance over his shoulder to the impossibly tall spires, their tops hidden in a cloudline that had never been present in the cave before. He thinks about how much of this hallucination is real, and what may be lurking in the water. His mind may be off his missing friends, but it will simply be on other things.

"I- I believe I will stick to the shallows for now, if that's all right," he says finally. He doesn't want to be a complete disappointment though, so he does get to his feet to at least wade in. He slides out of his sandals, but finds he doesn't like he feeling of bare sand against his feet any better, so back on they go.

"Yes, that is alright," Glacius nods, simply happy that the clergyman isn't letting his nerves completely get the better of him in this regard. Maybe after he wades a little bit, he will see that it isn't so bad...

The ice alien rises to his feet, glaring dubiously at the hot sands that lay between him and his refreshingly cool destination. Maybe he's just psyching himself up, because after those few moments of a stare-down he suddenly moves, crossing the beach in long, loping strides. Glacius has never been the sort of creature to outright run unless circumstances are really very dire, but his long legs means that he's still able to cover distances fairly quickly... so before the heated grains underneath his feet can cause him any real pain, he's already standing ankle-deep in gently lapping waves.

The ice alien draws a breath, then turns to make sure Carlisle is managing alright. When the clergyman draws near, he extends one long limb towards him, palm up in an offering of support should the loose terrain prove troublesome... but also to keep him bolstered as he nears the surf. "Don't worry... I've been swimming out in these waters for days now, and have seen signs of nothing treacherous. I promise you it is safe." And Carlisle knows how Glacius and his people are about lying!

As Glacius makes it to the water, Carlisle is still edging himself over there, finally coming to a stop just where the waves lap at the shore. They reach toward him as the water sweeps to and from the beach, pulling the sand along with it as it recedes.

"Right," he answers Glacius noncommittally, apprehension building on his face the longer he looks at the water and thinks about it pulling him in, then pulling him down, down, down. It goes so far out, disappears into the horizon—

"Nothing treacherous," he utters, a nervous smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, then fading almost immediately. How far out could it pull him? How deep does it go? And when he cannot see the bottom, is there one at all, or does it simply drop into a darkened abyss?

His eyes dart to Glacius, who is doing his best to make Carlisle feel welcomed in the water, and yet, he struggles to move. When he does, it is a single step. The water is cool against his feet, but doesn't drag him under.

Yet, at least. "I did it," he mutters, the trepidation still written across him. "Good. That's good for today. Maybe forever."

But he did get that far, and in his mind, that counts for something, as it's more than his usual effort when he's battling his own unease.

Edited 2016-12-31 06:20 (UTC)

Glacius' cheekbones begin to pull up--despite how it hurts, that crack is still mending--as Carlisle musters up the courage to finally step into the water. The expression quickly falls apart and is replaced by confusion, however, when the clergyman considers that quite enough. Good enough for forever? Does he not desire a new experience? How can he just close his mind so quickly??

"Well, yes that is good, but--how can you put a block on your own progress like this? You are doing so well! That first step wasn't so hard, was it..? Just think of it like that, just one step at a time." The ice alien attempts to reason with his friend, still with his hand held out to him. He wants it very clear that even if he's just managing one step further every couple of minutes, he's going to be there for each one.

"It's very easy to put a block on my own progress, I assure you," Carlisle returns, his eyes still on the water. "Blocks are good for- for holding onto when you're fairly certain the water will drag you under."

Which it hasn't yet, but it does push against his ankles, encouraging him to go further, closer to death. Though well aware Glacius is right there and ready to grab him should something go wrong, he can't help his uncertainty.

Edited 2016-12-31 18:38 (UTC)

"I can assure you that it will not," Glacius replies evenly. Deciding to take a different tactic, he now steps up right besides Carlisle and turns him slightly so that he's staring down the shoreline. By this hour, most people have packed up and left now that the sun was just beginning its descent, but a few small groups still linger by the surf, are taking a few last laps through the ocean before they come back up onto the beach. Each one of them emerge from the sea without any struggle to surface, without any undertow trying to drag them down, without a spot of harm on their bodies.

"For days I have watched countless humans galivant about in the ocean and emerge perfectly fine, and you are just as capable as any of them, Carlisle. I know you can do this... I believe in you."

Carlisle's eyes go from the people in the distance to Glacius, then down to the water once more. Others can do it, so he should be able to as well, right? Of course, his uncles had been able to do seemingly anything, and one only has to ask where they are now to see how that went.

His doubts threaten to swallow him, but there is Glacius by his side, offering his boundless support, as always. He sighs, still feeling the pull of the water against him. He might not go for a swim, but if he can manage to get even a few more steps out, he'll consider it a success. He can't just give up until then -- well, he could, but Glacius would be disappointed.

He can disappoint himself and be fine; he does not want that for Glacius, though. "I... suppose another step would not hurt."

"No, it won't," the ice alien responds, his glowing green eyes seeming to light up even brighter with pride. "Just one step. One after the other, that's all you have to do. I'll stay right here, just like I did when we were walking through the city, alright?"

So, keeping his arm around his friend, Glacius turns them back towards the water and starts urging Carlisle forward, murmuring quiet encouragements to the clergyman with each step. He has no idea how far the human will walk, but it's his hope that they can at least get to a point where the water is deep enough for Carlisle to adjust to even being in it. He's not expecting the man to go straight to paddling about; he's happy to tackle this in as slight of steps as necessary, starting with just getting the human more comfortable with the idea--even if that means all he's doing is standing partially submerged.

One step, then another. This isn't so bad, Carlisle tells himself. That works until he gets a little over waist high into the ocean and the pull against his wiry body is far more substantial, the ground beneath him shifting with the in and out of the tide. He's reminded of when he used to sit by the Cottonmouth River, often in prayer or meditation. While the sound of the rolling water could be relaxing, he found that watching the flow of it sometimes had the opposite effect. He'd thought often about the consequences of falling in -- getting pushed under the water, pulled downstream, surfacing far from home... if he surfaced at all.

That line of thinking scared him far worse than the water ever did.

He stops against Glacius' arm and puts a hand on his spectacles, suddenly afraid in that moment of being knocked off his feet and losing his glasses, if not himself entirely. "That's fine, that's- I think that's good for now. I'll just- I'll just watch you from here, if that's all right."

Glacius can feel the very moment Carlisle stops and resists any further movement as his body tenses up, and halts as well, his arm still around his frame to brace him against the natural ebb and flow of the ocean. The alien's body, solid and sure as ever, serves as an unmoving anchor against the pull of the ocean. The waves are extremely gentle, but given the clergyman's self-admitted lack of experience with ever being in the water, probably still enough to be disconcerting--even being in a still lake would likely be so. The alien is honestly impressed his friend walked out this far.

"Yes, this is a good place to take a little break," Glacius agrees, "Your first lesson is going very well so far, I would say." And then he flashes Carlisle a secret sort of smile, like he's just revealed some great accomplishment to the clergyman... and in a way, he has. He knows it took a lot of courage for him to even come out to the beach, let alone get into the water. That he's even okay with the ice alien pushing out deeper while he remains waist-deep in the ocean suggests that he's already adjusting to being in the water, little by little, which was the main point of this exercise.

Carlisle offers Glacius an unsure smile in return for his encouragement, his brow knitting.

"F- first lesson? There's more?"

Because he's not sure he's feet are going to move any farther, either because his legs refuse, or because his feet are starting to get buried under sand as the water pushes it over them.

That causes the ice alien to raise his brows. "W-well, of course there's more. When we first came out here I had hoped to take you all the way up to basic strokes, so that if--Makers forbid--you did ever end up in a body of water when on your own, you wouldn't have to worry. But I see now that is a bit too much all at once. For right now, I think all that we should work on is helping you overcome your fear of the water... so just coming out here and getting used to how it feels to be in it is a good start on that. If you'd like, you can practice lowering yourself down a little further... but if you want to just stand and adjust, that is alright too. We need to tackle the mental elements of this before we work on any of the physical aspects, you see."

"It's not the water itself I fear so much as, ah."

What could be living in it, what the false gods might do while he's out there, the memories he's currently associating with the sensations he's feeling -- he has several reasons.

"Well," he continues, uncertainty still etched into him. He pulls his feet from the sand to take a step back, losing his sandal in the process. He leaves it, not wanting to have to reach into the water to get it. "I will adjust, perhaps. Back near the shoreline. Just sit down and take my time while you enjoy yourself."

"You've already made such strides coming out here, though!Sometimes we must endure things that are not necessarily the most comfortable if we are to grow. But... if that is what you think would be most helpful... then I defer," the ice alien sighs, his shoulder sagging slightly. He's never been the sort to try and cajole someone into doing something against their will, and he especially does not want to be so insistent here that Carlisle begins to grow uncomfortable with his presence. More than anything, he likes being a sense of security for the clergyman... but that gives him one final idea.

"What if I shifted partially into the water, and took you out just a little further? You could keep your arms around my neck, or I could hold you in mine--it wouldn't teach you to swim, necessarily, but maybe it would help you feel safe while being partially submerged. You'd even be able to look around and get a better feel for your surroundings without having to worry about moving through the water on your own... you might even like what you see." It's his hope, anyways!

Carlisle's immediate inclination is to decline, and to head back to the beach, away from the water, the sensation of being pulled further in, and the downward spiral of self-confidence his mind is already treading. That will put him closer to the buildings, but at least they don't seem to be moving anymore, unlike the water.

However, Glacius' suggestion gives him pause. Just what is there to see out there other than more water and the endless abyss that surely lies below? And why is it Glacius is so insistent he experience it?

He manages to answer that second one himself: this is important to Glacius. The alien wants them to enjoy this time together, to relax after all the city has thrown at them. Whereas Carlisle seeks refuge in plants and prayer, this is what the icy alien would prefer to do. They may not get this opportunity again -- not unless they go swimming in the city's river, and that doesn't sound fun at all.

He'd be safe, he tries to convince himself. Glacius won't let anything happen to him. Of course he wouldn't. Still, he stalls.

"Sh- shift? Where you, ah. Sort of melt away? Is that- is that safe?"

Glacius can see the trepidation written all over Carlisle's face, so he's doubly happy when the man does not give in to his immediate inclinations. That he's still making an effort on his behalf causes another surge of that appreciation in his hearts--gentler, this time, but no less pleasant. He smiles softly and nods, realizing that further explanation might be helpful here.

"My apologies for falling on short-hand terms. You are correct, in my people's language a shift simply means any partial alteration to our forms. A complete change is referred to as liquidizing... which I will not be doing here, for if I were to merge completely with the water you'd have nothing to hold on to, and it wouldn't be a very good way for us to spend time together, now would it?"

Glacius chuckles, then trails off when he realizes he's beginning to over-explain--as he usually does when trying to bridge the gap between his culture and his friend's. Any reluctance to speak of such things seems to gradually be ebbing as trust between him and the clergyman is built stronger and stronger. "So I would shift in one of two ways, either leaving my head and neck intact, or remain formed from the waist up; either change would allow me to effortlessly traverse the waters while still allowing you to hold on or be held. Either way, yes, I assure you it is completely safe for both of us."

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