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 The spires have been replaced by shining skyscrapers, the roads are clear of rubble and paved neatly.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

The openness of the world around them means very different things to the two of them. For Glacius, it represents freedom, the ability to go anywhere and do whatever he pleases. He thinks of his home, worlds away, and the family he's missing. Without the walls of the cave, he can see the sky, and even a false one is more comforting than the cavernous prison they're being held in.

For Carlisle, however, the illusion of open space is as frightening as he often found it back home, and especially in the jungle. With the sky so open, with no trees or mountains to block the view, there's nothing to keep him out of sight of anything that may hunt him down; the horizon goes on forever, making him feel that much smaller in a big world. When faced with a large room, Glacius might be the type to explore and look for the exit, but Carlisle is the sort who will find a nice spot in the corner and settle there, as trying to find the door seems too taxing a venture, and there's no telling what's waiting behind it anyway.

But for that moment, he seems to find the enjoyment that Glacius wanted him to see. The colors are phenomenal, the unending sky as awe-inspiring as it is overwhelmingly open, but he finds he's getting the most pleasure out of just... being with Glacius, really. Feeling safe enough to be able to relax at times, even if only between moments of unease.

And for someone who constantly feels the weight of that aforementioned impending demise, that's a big deal.

"It is nice," he murmurs quietly, leaning against Glacius' neck as he watches the water blend with the sky, painting the entire area in an orange hue.

It's something that the otherworldly being isn't going to overlook or take lightly, either. Knowing how the unfortunate circumstances of the clergyman's past have caused such stress and fear in his daily life is something that never stops tugging at the alien's hearts. He doesn't deserve any of that, and to provide his friend with little moments of security and contentment that help to break down the worry and self-doubt that plagues him is an accomplishment that Glacius can feel really, genuinely good about. It's enough that another deeply pleased purr rolls up out of this gills, the thrumming in his throat easily felt under Carlisle's hands, and against his chest given how he's leaning against the alien's neck. "It certainly is," he responds equally quietly, nodding his agreement--but aside from that he seems content to watch wordlessly with his friend as the sun begins to dip lower and lower, that bright burning orange dimming to a lower glow.

Then, before too much longer, even that fades--replaced by a dark night sky beset with countless stars that shine like beacons to the lost alien. This far out in the ocean, however, it's even more impressive; the placid sea beneath them becomes a deep black mirror, reflections of the shining lights glimmering in its surface. Surrounded on all sides by the seemingly endless expanse, it feels almost like they've been transported to somewhere else entirely, closer to the void and that sense of not only endless possibility, but of unbreakable tranquility. It's enough that even the otherworldly being finds himself absolutely transfixed as he stares up at the night sky, his glowing green eyes wide.

Carlisle feels that rattling against his chest, and now knows more of what to make of it as the vibrations rumble through him. He assumes it's the sight that caused such a reaction this time; still, he feels sheepish all the same, as though he's been let in on another secret usually hidden under the ice, and reddens a bit as he leans off Glacius to look further into the darkening sky.

He's silent as his eyes take in the emerging stars. The sea becomes discernible from the sky, save for the soft waves that push against them, ever inward toward the island that was once the cave city. The vast expanse all around them threatens to swallow him whole, but Glacius is there, grounding him. Carlisle reminds himself that he's okay. He's here.

He's also cold, the temperature dipping the longer they're out there, but doesn't quite realize it until he starts shivering. His hands do shake a lot -- sometimes, it's hard to tell what it is that ails him.

There are so many stars, so many countless little reflections and details and reminders of home that Glacius feels as though he could get lost in them forever. He could certainly stay out there for hours longer, staring up as memories and feelings of both joy and longing sweep through him, were it not for the shivering of the human on his back. It's enough to snap the ice alien out of his trance; again he swivels his head around to regard the clergyman, and then without a word his body begins to turn, aiming to take them back to the shore. He's kept him out here long enough... and while he's deeply pleased at how well Carlisle is playing along, and he's enjoying the moment immensely, he does not want to risk his comfort or health. He already seems to have trouble staying warm as is...

"Thank you for indulging me, Carlisle," Glacius speaks quietly, as he cruises gently back towards land. "You did so well, and thanks to you... I... I got everything that I wanted out of today. I'll look fondly back on these memories for a long time... when I no longer have the light of the stars to guide me, to make me feel connected to the world I once knew, I will think back on this time that we have shared and know that I do not have to feel alone. This gift that you have given me... it cannot be outshined."

Carlisle can tell the moment Glacius looks back at him that he wasn't doing a very good job of stifling his shaking, but the alien doesn't draw attention to it, simply turning for the shore and heading back. He offers instead that steadfast encouragement, words to bolster Carlisle against his own fears rather than push him farther toward them. It's rare for him to receive such things, and even more so for him to want to believe them. Why would he, knowing what a blight he has been to his entire lineage? To the people around him?

So he reddens as he mulls over what Glacius says, how he'll hold these memories in such high regard. Carlisle doesn't even hold most of his own that way, so for the icy giant -- so proud, so secretive in what troubles him most -- to admit that this experience is one he'll hold dear, that will help him when he feels so disconnected from his world...

Carlisle rubs at his chest and the talisman beneath his shirt, his face burning to think that something as small as a day out of the apartment with his company could be so important to Glacius -- and it, in turn, makes him feel like he has some meaning in his life, some purpose beyond proving himself to his goddess. The alien has come to mean so much to him, and having been a solitary creature since the disappearance of his uncles, Carlisle has never felt like that about... well, anyone before. His family had been supportive, but even he felt small beside them, always living in their shadows in the eyes of everyone around him, himself included.

"That's- that's terribly kind of you to- to say, Glacius," he stammers. "I- ah. I'm flattered, I suppose. Yes. Thank you."

And just like that, that addictive feeling rises in him, the one that's hard for him to either pinpoint or name. He doesn't know if Glacius feels the same as he does, as though he's more than just some insignificant speck who can't possibly live up to his own expectations, but when the alien says things like that... he likes to believe so. He might not be able to properly say what that feeling is that wells in his chest, but perhaps his peaceful smile and the deep color against his pale skin, so different from the nervous look he usually bears, can say it for him.

Edited 2017-01-03 04:33 (UTC)

"You are more than welcome, Carlisle," the ice alien replies, smiling another soft smile to himself. Given how hard Glacius worked to make this night with Carlisle a possibility, and how much he enjoys his friend's company, it is a very safe bet indeed that the alien feels the same way about the clergyman's worth. It's safe to assume that his friend means as much to him as he means to his friend... but the sign of that color the human's cheeks is currently lost on the otherworldly being, given that he's preoccupied with bringing them safely back to the beach. He only notices when they get closer to the shallows, and he stops to allow Carlisle to dismount so that he can properly revert to his natural form.

"There. I can't go much further like this, but this should be shallow enough that your feet can easily reach the bottom, so..." now, as he turns his head to make sure the clergyman doesn't need any assistance in this endeavor, he finally sees the sign of that blush. "... ah, are you alright, Carlisle?"

Carlisle slides off Glacius' shifted back easily, and almost immediately takes himself to the shoreline. He's still missing that one sandal, but the sand is no longer burning, the heat dissipating with the sun's disappearance. Even with Glacius so close, he would rather not remain in the water for too much longer -- it's too dark, too open. Now that he has the option of being on land, he takes it.

Despite the cold, he can feel the fire across his face -- and it's apparent enough that Glacius can see it. "I'm fine," he reassures the alien, that nervous smile returning. "I'm just, the water is a bit chilly at night. Not used to it. Not used to, um."

He swallows, his voice dropping. "Not used to many things."

It hasn't even occurred to Glacius that a human could harbor any of those sorts of feelings for a creature as alien as him--hell, he was still adjusting to the friendships that he'd been offered-- so he takes the words at face value. A chuckle bubbles up form his throat as he reverts, his natural form reappearing from the water; a rippling mass of liquid takes the shape of the alien's powerful body, limbs and spikes and all, and then solidifies into underbody and icy skin. Despite the fact that he's seemingly recreating biological matter from nothing, the whole process only takes a matter of seconds for a being as trained in the practice of shifting as him, and now he comes out of the surf as well, grinning at Carlisle.

"Well. It has been a day of new experiences for you, hasn't it? Thank you for putting up with all of that for my sake. Come, let's go back and sit down for a little bit before we head back to the apartment. I need to rinse the wound on the side of my face anyways... it is still healing, but the salt water is not kind to what cuts remain."

That suggestion makes Carlisle perk up in an instant. "Ah, I can help!"

And with the still of the night all around them, save for the gentle ocean waves, he realizes just how loud and uncharacteristically enthusiastic that response was. He continues in a quieter tone.

"I, er. I mean, I would like to help. You have spent all day helping me, and if there is any way I can begin to repay you for your patience regarding my, ah. My shortcomings, then let me start with that."

Glacius blinks at the ardent response--not just because it was loud enough to punch through the relative silence of the night, but because he doesn't think he's heard the clergyman react so enthusiastically about anything before. The ice alien finds himself taken aback, but not in a bad way--that Carlisle still isn't tired of tending to the injury, but it actually eager to do so... well... that's actually a comfort to the ice alien.

"Please--you needn't repay me for anything. But if you would like to," the ice alien notes the emphasis on that word, tucking his head back somewhat bashully as he does so, "Then... I would like that, too. You're, ah. You're very good at it... at being careful with the wound, at interacting respectfully with me. It... it helps me feel safe. And cared for." It's comforting, in other words, though he's not used to expressing himself in this manner so he's not able to word it quite so succinctly.

"Well, that's how I've felt most of the day, actually," Carlisle admits. "Safe and, ah. Cared for. It's only right that I do the same for you."

He has to keep feeling useful in some way, after all. That feeling of having purpose is nice, encouraging. Makes him feel alive for a change.

That gets Glacius to stop in his tracks. He probably realized that in some ways, just from how Carlisle had been acting when he'd allowed himself to be taken out to the ocean, but to hear it stated so openly... well. It allows him to realize the impact that he's actually had on the clergyman's life despite how he sometimes struggles to feel like he's being a proper friend to the humans here that he knows. He's also just extremely grateful to know that his efforts have allowed Carlisle to feel something good enough to give him a respite from the stress of his life here, and his past burdens.

"I'm... so glad, Carlisle," the ice alien speaks up, remembering to move his feet again after his moment of being awestruck fades. "I know that you, ah... struggle, some times, for reasons you don't deserve. Every time your fears and your self-doubt weigh you down, it tugs at my hearts... all I want is to be able to ease those burdens when I can. To know that I've had even a modicum of success in that regard, well... maybe I'm not doing so bad at this whole 'friendship' thing."

Now that they've made their way back over to the towels and the bottles of water, Glacius seats himself neatly, leaving room for Carlisle to join him. Digging into a bag that was likely given to him by one of his other human friends that had introduced him to all of the handy and useful things one should bring with them to a beach, he pulls out another towel--this one dry and not covered in irritating grains of sand-- and holds it out to the clergyman.

"Here--if you are cold, you may use this to dry off. Your usual outfit is here too, of course, if you want to change back into it." Humans do seem to feel a lot better when they're dry and warm, this he has learned well!

Carlisle takes the towel, but declines his clerical garments with a wave of his hand. "I, ah. Probably shouldn't change out here, in the open and whatnot. Not exactly proper, now is it?"

He has a little laugh to himself, only to realize that Glacius probably doesn't know the answer to that. "It's not, by the way. In case you were wondering about that." Drying himself off quickly, he drapes the towel around him like a cape, preferring to leave it on to block the cool night air. His bottle of water is still there, thankfully -- it'll be useful for cleaning the salt out of Glacius' wound.

Edited 2017-01-04 01:45 (UTC)

"O-oh," Glacius blinks, appreciative of but also mildly sheepish for the clarification. "I didn't mean to suggest-- I mean. I could always construct barriers if you desire privacy, but... you probably don't want to get the garments dirty anyways... a-ah, just forget I said anything!"

Trying to pass right over his blunder and act like the exchange isn't a thing that's happening right now, the alien attempts to busy himself by seeing to his old wound. It's... not working very well, given that all he has are his hands, and after a moment he gives up rubbing at it with a ginger hiss, realizing that's not a good idea at all.

Edited 2017-01-04 01:59 (UTC)

As embarrassed as he is for having brought attention to Glacius' faux pas, Carlisle feels even worse when the alien starts picking at the wound on his face in what the clergyman recognizes is him caving to his own nerves.

"Stop stop stop stop," he utters in quick succession following that hiss, dipping to grab the water bottle and pulling off the cap. "Don't do that! Here—"

Conjuring an orb of light into his hand to help him see the injury, he offers it to Glacius. "Hold this so I can see any irritants and wash them out."

Thankfully, he has the alien's complete attention when he conjures up that orb of light. Any cultural missteps or sore, irritated wounds are forgotten as Glacius' eyes light up, and he looks to the clergyman's face with with a mixture of apprehension and eagerness.

"I can--I can hold it? Just like the lights of my people..." he murmurs-- never mind the fact hat Carlisle has already told him that this conjuration is nothing as sacred as the Mote. The otherworldly being accepts the orb readily, cradling it in both of his great big hands as is he's handling a sacred treasure. Sure enough, the light remains, instead of dimming when separated from its source... Glacius considers it almost tenderly for a moment more, then holds it up to the ruined side of his face so that Carlisle can see the mess of scar tissue and cuts the injury has become.

Trying to focus on the task at hand and simply pleased that Glacius stops aggravating his own wound, Carlisle unfortunately misses the reverence with which the alien takes his conjured light. The orb stays bright, and is slightly warm to the touch, but it feels fragile, like delicate glass. Carlisle is used to handling them, but never thought to warn Glacius to hold it with care. Thankfully, the alien does just that without his guidance.

"Good. Now just stay still a moment."

With one hand holding the bottle, he places the other just below Glacius' jaw, the touch of his fingertips gentle as he nudges Glacius' face a little higher. The wound has healed well, but the salt water has done him no favors -- he pours a little of the fresh water onto the injury, clearing away the obvious bits of sand that have flecked onto his scarring underbody. There's another moment of scrutiny, then more pouring, and after another repetition, he decides that it's as clean as they're going to get it for the moment.

"There," he says softly, setting the bottle down and using both hands to maneuver the alien's face so the light can reach the various nooks and crannies of his jawline and the spot where his missing mandible should be. Though trying to be absolutely thorough, Carlisle is conscientious with how much pressure he uses to prompt Glacius to turn his head this way and that, not wanting to overstep is boundaries. They have done this sort of inspection over and over again throughout their injured days together, and he knows well enough that the alien wouldn't let just anyone handle him like this, but he cannot help that feeling that he's going to ruin this camaraderie they have between them.

And given how said camaraderie has made him feel, he would do nearly anything to keep it. That, too, is new for him.

Normally, Glacius would not tolerate someone feeling around his jaw and attepting to nudge his face this way and that--he would have given a huff of warning before extricating himself from the situation. With Carlisle, however, things are decidedly different... the clergyman has proven himself to be able to handle these interactions with care and respect, and so the ice alien responds very well to his gentle directions. To an outsider looking in, it might seem rather impressive to see the human taking the lead for once and giving direction to the alien... but Glacius isn't thinking about that right now. Rather, he's just going with it, enjoying the flow of cool water whenever Carlisle pours a little bit over his cuts and playing along with the whole thing rather nicely...

... At least until the clergyman announces he's more or less finished with the treatment. Clearly the alien appreciates the careful attention and the relief he's been provided from the stinging of the wound, because as Carlisle holds his face between his hands, Glacius finally interrupts the process of his own accord: he actually tilts his head down to gratefully--and gently, very important when you have icy armor and don't want to give your more fragile human friend a concussion--butts his forehead against his friend's.

"Well..? How am I looking?"

Glacius' head connects with Carlisle's, and the clergyman feels a tremor run through his chest and to his hands, his fingers curling slightly as he pulls in half a breath in surprise. The alien's appreciation stirs that feeling in his gut, that deep-seated need to prove himself useful, that hope so seemingly out of place in his defeatist demeanor. It's a good sensation, but one he's not sure he deserves.

Despite that, he can't help but be a little greedy, wanting to savor that moment like a fine drink. A smile pulls at him as he closes his eyes behind his glasses, his hands relaxing as they find their way into the curves of Glacius' jaw once more. He knows the lay of it, having examined the alien's maw time and time again, surveying the way his muscles pull against his neck. Carlisle has taken note of how the anatomy around the wound has changed to accommodate for Glacius' injury, how the alien worries about that missing part, how concerned he is that the scar paints him as a bloodthirsty monster rather than a benevolent protector.

Carlisle returns the pressure against his forehead with just a little of his own, hoping Glacius understands just how much the gesture means to him -- how much his friendship means. He keeps his words light in tone.

"You'll survive this time," he says through his smile, his voice hushed so the false gods won't hear them.

When Glacius had initiated the contact, he had meant it in a playful manner--but now, feeling Carlisle return the gesture and reach his hands up to his jaw line, something changes. The alien stills, and his expression dims as he feels contact around the sight of that injury... but he's not sad. He's touched. The scarring and the remnants of the wound are still so gruesome, and yet it hasn't changed the clergyman's perception of him at all... he still values his friendship, still thinks he's the one that needs to prove himself to the alien. Right there in this moment, it strikes Glacius that what he's being given is complete acceptance--and given how much he struggles to feel like he belongs here, that is no small thing.

"With you here with me... I feel like I'm doing more than just surviving," and he should know--that was all he felt like he was doing for a damn long time after Emily's death, just barely holding on because the people around him still somehow saw worth in him. "I feel... good. Good enough to enjoy things like the sun and the sea and the sky again. Thank you for... giving me that, in a place like this. I... I think I needed it."

Carlisle remains there another moment, reveling in all that's he's experiencing in that second, his mind working tirelessly as it tries to discern exactly why it feels so impossibly freeing. Perhaps it's the beating of his own pulse, so heavy that it resonates into his hands, fighting back the numbness that so often rests there; maybe it's the warmth emanating from his chest, so strong and sudden that it seems to keep the cold of the night air at bay.

Or maybe it's because he feels significant, substantial. He feels like, for perhaps the first time in his life, that he can do more than he ever believed. Earlier that very day, he'd struggled to even leave their apartment, and now, he's standing on an open beach after having explored the waves of a vast ocean.

Well, a small fraction of a vast ocean, but that was still monumental for him. He couldn't have done it without Glacius, but he can't help but wonder now how much more he can do with the alien's encouragement. Despite working his entire life toward redemption for his curse, Carlisle never really believed he could do it -- it was ultimately just denial keeping him going, fear fueling his refusal more than actual determination.

But in that moment, he truly feels like he could do anything with the right set of tools and guidance. He only needed to be bold enough to look for such things rather than cowering behind his insecurities.

It will take more time for him to reconcile such (relatively) daring concepts, but for the moment, he takes in what he can. Such moments of true peace are so rare and fleeting for him, after all.

"I... admit that I feel good, too," he says with a laugh, one filled with trepidation rather than mirth. "Back home, I had my church. Had a family name to live up to. I've neither of those things here, and have only been trying to make amends to my goddess, and to those I've wronged. I teach magic, and make trinkets, but anyone could do those things. Others could do them so easily, I'm sure."

His head remains in contact with Glacius', but dips as his expression falls. "And- and perhaps others could offer you the same support I have, but better. They'd know more about modern medicine, or help you defend others, or be braver than I am. Anyone can do that last one, but... but..."

With the onset of his nerves slips away that moment of solace that he'd so coveted. His hands shake against Glacius' jaw, hesitation pulling him back.

Edited 2017-01-04 12:08 (UTC)

"But it's you that I have grown closest to," Glacius responds without missing a beat, absolutely not going to allow Carlisle to fill in the blanks with any more self-doubt. "Perhaps there are others than can do what you do--I know there are other members of my species that posses my talents. Do you think I am the only warrior or peacekeeper of my kind? It is not what we can do that makes us unique, but what we choose to do with those abilities. And all you have ever done with yours is try to make amends and help others... to try and help me, time and time again, even after I failed you."

The alien brings his hands up to rest over Carlisle's, trying to still their shaking. Even though the human has lowered his head, Glacius still gives him a reassuring smile. "So stop comparing yourself to everyone else, and just be you. Just be Carlisle--a compassionate man of faith, a capable healer, and an understanding friend--one of my closest friends. What more could I ask for?"

Glacius steps in before Carlisle can vocalize more of his self-deprecating thoughts, but his mind fills in the blanks well enough for him. There are other icy warriors like Glacius out there, but none within Hadriel; meanwhile, Carlisle knows there are others in the city who can do what he can but better, whether it's healing, glyphcrafting, and probably even dealing with alien beings in need of support. And while Glacius believes all he has done is use his abilities to try to help others, he hasn't seen the true extent of what he can do -- what he did to AJ, to Shadow, to Kate, to Chris.

His hands quake, but Glacius rests his own over them, shielding them from rising doubts as he encourages Carlisle to simply be himself. That'd be a much easier task if the clergyman had any confidence in himself at all, especially regarding his consistent feelings of inadequacy.

So he puts his confidence with someone he knows he can trust instead, taking in a deep breath and pressing his head against Glacius' once more, and with more effort this time. "I can think of many things you could ask for, but... I will try, Glacius. I promise you that."

Glacius may be the only icy warrior in Hadriel, but he is certainly not the only warrior, period. Moreover there are other beings with destructive powers and capabilities that even he struggled to stand up against that have been brought to this city on occasion, so he wouldn't consider that a point for himself; the incident of demonic possession continues to plague him. As for Carlisle's fears about what the ice alien may think if he knew about his compulsion, Glacius is already fully aware that he has used it on others--he'd learned after hearing one of the reasons Algidus had to be angry on him. What matters to the otherworldly being is that the clergyman making an active effort to turn away from it, now. To make something better of himself. That's not easy to do.

In short, he's prepared to overturn any misgivings his friend may have about himself, should he ever voice them.

"Trying is all that can be asked of anyone," Glacius murmurs, rubbing the smooth curve of his forehead gently against Carlisle's--it's meant to be a soothing gesture, and is certainly one only share among people that are close in his culture. "I know it isn't easy. But that just makes me all the more appreciative of your efforts."

Carlisle lets out a quiet sigh as Glacius returns the gesture. Despite the comfort he feels in that moment, the solidarity between them that's unlike anything he's had before, he cannot help but worry that Glacius will one day regret wasting so much time and effort on him. He is cursed, after all, but perhaps he'll meet his end before the alien gets dragged down by the misfortune he brings. Following the old superstitions can only stave it off for so long, after all.

That's not exactly a welcome thought, so Carlisle tries to push it out of mind by focusing on the here and now rather than the what will be. It's a difficult task all on its own, given his proclivity to worry about everything that has yet to and probably will not happen, but one that's made easier with the alien there -- his roommate, his friend, someone who manages to make his life seem important, even without his lineage and his abilities. That means a lot to him, and he isn't sure how to fully express that.

So he lets his head linger there another moment, feeling the coolness of Glacius' icy frame against him, the deep crevices of his muscular neck beneath his delicate hands. He finally pulls back when he feels himself start to shiver again -- the towel can only do so much when his legs are still bare.

"As much as I am not looking forward to walking toward the spires again," he says, that nervous smile reappearing, his eyes flicking to Glacius for only a moment before lodging themselves somewhere in the sand, "we- we should probably head back before I catch my death out here."

Event Post: Everyone Chill

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