hadriel_logs | Give Us This Day...

Entry tags:

Give Us This Day...

Who: Glacius (

glacius) and Carlisle (

tongueamok).
What: Baking lessons!
Where: Glacius and Carlisle's apartment.
When: Forward-dated to the 10th of January or so.
Warnings: N/A, will update as the need arises.

It has been only a couple of days since the illusion of their shiny, clean, and perhaps most importantly open-skied city had dissipated, and it had been as difficult to go back to the dreary cave setting as Glacius had expected. Every now and then he would still find himself looking up... not an unusual habit for a being that hailed from the stars and longed for them every night, but one that had an especial impact when he was hoping against home that he might be lucky enough to catch even a glimpse of a sky. It wasn't to be, however... which meant that all that was left to him was to fall into old routines to try and make himself useful. The vacation was nice but there was work to be done--everyone was trying to keep themselves occupied in their own ways.

That included his roommate, it turned out, who had given the alien a list of things to keep an eye out for shortly after Hadriel had settled back to normal. Glacius didn't mind the added errand; he was happy for another distraction, especially if it would help his friend in some way. He'd procured everything that he could over the course of the past few days and was apparently going to find out what it all was for tonight, as Carlisle was busy partaking in a ritual from home when the icy being made his way back to the apartment just as the odd light of the cave was beginning to dim. He came in the door clad in his partial set of armor, which he'd taken to wearing in public or while staffed at the Guard's headquarters to conceal the wasted visage that the right side of his face had become, fears of what people might think upon seeing the ugly scars still lingering. The first thing Glacius noticed was the scent that was coming from the kitchen and filling the main room-- it was light, reminiscent of nuts or possibly grains... and very good, whatever it was.

"Carlisle? I have returned," the otherworldly being called out as he moved further into the apartment. His curiosity was piqued, and though he wasn't surprised to see Carlisle there, he was surprised to see the kitchen around him in quite a state. There was heat coming from one of the built-in appliances, various wooden utensils and tools set out beside him (neatly, the clergyman was almost always neat, apparently even in this endeavor), and some sort of white powdery substance coating the countertop before him. His religious vestments had been removed, leaving only his form-fitting base layers and some new sort of garment that tied around his waist and neck... Glacius wasn't sure what to make of any of it, but he was intensely interested. The towering alien came up on the other side of the counter as he removed his helmet and tucked it under one long arm, the better to look over everything again.

"You've been busy while I was out, it seems. Is this what you wanted all of those items that I have been bringing back for the past few days for? ...What is all of this, even?"

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The ice alien looks down at his hands, blinking again, then blushing faintly as he clenches them a few times. He appreciates the human looking out for him very much, but at the same time, he feels bad for causing his friend so much stress when what he was really trying to do by partaking in the practice was try and help him relax a little bit.

"O-oh. I'm sorry. I did not mean to worry you... I am fine, really. I can't overheat when it is just small regions of my body that are exposed like this... and it is worth it to endure some discomfort to be able to share in something that is important to you. Just like you did for me at the beach, yes?" Glacius attempts to reason. "But I... I wouldn't mind watching you. I could probably still learn a lot just by doing so, and in the end, as long as we are spending time together, I am happy."

"It's fine," Carlisle reassures Glacius, despite having just said otherwise. He was sure his body language was probably doing that for him, his hands wringing together, fingers twitching nervously the longer Glacius kept himself exposed.

He grabs the now-empty bowl and starts pouring ingredients into it, deciding Glacius may prefer to watch him make something that isn't frostloaf. As usual, he fills in that worried silence with words before his jumble of thoughts can catch up to him, or worse, before Glacius can berate himself any more for reasons he doesn't deserve. "I was really the only one in my family who did any baking. My uncle Benistad knew a little, but most I learned from one of the locals in Bear Den. Nice lady, Miss Agatha. Well, she wasn't terribly nice to most people, but I was in there a lot."

Though to be fair, she actually wasn't terribly nice to him, either.

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

Thankfully, Carlisle won't have to worry about it much longer--now that he's agreed to simply watch, he is already reforming the ice over his hands, sighing in relief as the cold soothes his agitated underbody. Flexing his hands one last time, he lets them settle by his side again... then checks the motion and laces his fingers together on the counter as he leans against it, the better to watch his the clergyman. He likes seeing people in their elements, likes watching his friend exercise a skill he's worked on for many years.

"I see. It sounds like your home village was tightly-knit, just like the towns and districts of my people. I believe I have explained that to you before, about how our small families results in tightly-knit communities, yes?"

"You did," Carlisle replies. "Our village was tightly-knit, yes, but not in the sense that we viewed each other as family or anything. I recall you saying that your kind does that from time to time, though they do live quite a bit longer than humans."

Which he belatedly remembers is not a very good topic to get onto, so he quickly continues as he tosses more ingredients into the bowl. "The, ah. The Forest Folk do that, though. They view their entire village as a single family unit, despite any different bloodlines and species that may be contained therein."

"Ah, he listens well," Glacius responds, clearly pleased. "Of course it depends on the community--every one functions a little differently, and the actual blood ties are almost always held the most sacred. A child is expected to defer to their parents above anyone else, and their parents are expected to have the primary hand in disciplining them--though not physically, as some species do. Anyways, I remember others stepping in to help look after me when my parents were busy, and I remember my parents sending me to help do repairs or other house work with other families when I got older. Everyone pitches in and supports each other where they can... while respecting each other's privacy, of course."

Which probably explains a lot about the way the alien tries to help his friends-- always offering his support and making it known that he will assist however he can, but never attempting to pry into another's life or take any action without their consent. He had a good upbringing, like most of his people, and is thankful for the values imparted unto him... and though talking about this is causing some of those pangs of homesickness to rear their ugly heads again, focusing on the good memories rather than the separation seems to be keeping him from getting dragged down. He shifts a little closer to Carlisle, the better to watch him work and stave off what little bits of loneliness threaten.

"So did you interact with them often, the Forest Folk? You seem quite familiar with them. If so, what did they think of you humans?"

Carlisle reddens at Glacius' teasing. Though truly alien by all appearances -- and sometimes by nature -- he has to admit that his home life doesn't sound all that different from his own in Bear Den. He wasn't sent over to do house work or repairs, no, but it wasn't uncommon for others to do so, especially those who hadn't money to their name. Bartering in work and favors was the norm in his region, and parents often shared the load of looking after the children in the village.

Well, save for him, but his case had been much like his family: unusual.

"They're not terribly fond of humans, actually," he admits, stirring the contents in the bowl. "Like most of the sentient creatures, they view uprights -- the, ah, general colloquialism for humanoid beings -- with suspicion. They are, however, quite fond of magic, as they are rarely able to use it themselves, and so a handful of notable magicians have made pacts with the various kinds, my uncle Benistad included. As there is a village quite close to our family estate, it was necessary."

"That does not surprise me," Glacius responds, but he sounds sad about it, rather than contemptuous or irritated. Humans often seemed to have a hard time getting along with outside species... and wariness and suspicion reminds him a lot of how his people would react if they had to live in close proximity to the species. Hell, most of them already did... and those that didn't simply weren't thinking about humanity at all, since they'd made a point to stay far away for a long long time now.

"I'm glad you were able to establish peaceful relations with them despite the suspicions," the ice alien continues. "I know first hand how difficult that can be. I've been trying to keep things peaceful between my people and humanity for a long, long time now--part of the reason I'm working so hard to reclaim my ship. I don't want to give my leaders any other reason to think of humanity as a threat, and I certainly don't want to let them claim technology that could allow them to insitagte conflict beyond their own world." Glacius rubs wearily at his forehead. "It's all a mess, back on earth--the earth of my world. I am so glad that relations here are different. The friendships that I have forged here are proof enough to me that my efforts thus far are justified... and even though I was wary of you all at first, I... I am glad we've been able to grow closer."

Taking a break from his stirring, Carlisle gives Glacius a smile. "As am I."

He sets the bowl down and pushes it across the counter toward Glacius, letting him help where he can. He did seem so eager to find a way to share in Carlisle's little rituals, after all, even one as innocuous as baking. He takes the time to spread more flour on the counter.

"Thankfully, any enemies we might have made out of the Forest Folk wouldn't have been nearly as troublesome as what you've dealt with in your world when it comes to interpersonal relations with another people, given their small stature and lack of magic. They are a good resource for various plants and remedies, though, and one often overlooked. Dealing with them can be an acquired taste at times, but they aren't bad company, especially when, ah."

He quiets down, knowing Glacius has likely heard enough about how he doesn't get along with his own people at times. "Well. They can be rather pleasant, once you've got some of their language down. I don't speak it very well myself. Only a few words and phrases here and there."

Glacius is caught off guard when the bowl comes his ways, straightening up immediately-- it clunks gently against the thick ice coating his broad chest before he wraps one arm around it, holding it steady. The ice alien looks down at it, then to Carlisle... and once he's discerned that the clergyman's intention is still for him to help out, a smile grows on his face. He gets to work mixing, though this time he isn't laser-focused on the contents of the bowl or the task at hand, but is listening to Carlisle contently as he takes over for the time being.

"I'm sure they appreciated what you did know... learning a language is very difficult. You should have heard my first attempts with common--embarrassing!" He huffs out a self-depreciating laugh, continuing to stir. Then he quiets down a little bit, certainly not overlooking the way his friend had trailed off there for a moment. Given how he's heard a lot about Carlisle's life and woes, he thinks he might have an idea of what's bothering him. "And anyone is lucky to have your company, Carlisle. I'm glad that there were some beings that recognized that, and hope they respected you properly."

He gives Glacius that nervous, rueful grin, knowing the alien is sharp enough to have figured out just what he was omitting.

"They did, when not being obstinate. That's just how the Forest Folk tend to be, even the one here."

He has a single laugh to himself. Shadow says he's not a Forest Folk, but he certainly acts like one at times, and even looks the part -- well, save for that he doesn't wear pants.

"There's someone else from your world here?" Glacius blinks, misinterpreting Carlisle's remark. "Why did you not introduce me..? Should I be looking out for them?"

What he's basically saying with that offer is that any friend of Carlisle is a friend of his--and that's no small utterance of loyalty, given how reluctant the ice alien could be to get wrapped up in the affairs of others.

"Ah, he's not from my world," Carlisle clarifies, realizing too late that he should have done that on the front end. "Cisth, thank goodness there's no one from my world."

Finished spreading flour, he dusts off his hands. "His name is Shadow, and he claims he's not a Forest Folk, but he's a talking hedgehog who stands about yay tall" —he holds his hand around his middle— "and is just as stubborn as any one of them from my world could be. He has magic though, which does set him apart from the ones I've met back home. I've wondered a time or two if there are Forest Folk in other worlds, just as there are humans, but he seems temperamental about such questioning."

And with good reason -- his world, much like Carlisle's and Glacius', could be very unkind.

Edited 2017-01-08 11:19 (UTC)

Glacius honestly shares that sentiment. While he longs fiercely for his people, he wouldn't know what to do if one of them was brought here and had to endure such suffering. They didn't deserve that. Even though he missed them, it was better that they were back on the homeworld, safe and sound...

"I see. Well, if the circumstances of his own world were not kind ones, then that is something I can understand. I wasn't temperamental about questions, but I was definitely elusive, vague at best... my culture dictates that I must guard knowledge of my homeworld closesly, and everything I went through on earth, well..." He doesn't like to talk about it--this cave had a way of laying bare those ugly memories, though. He wasn't fond of that in the least, but he had to admit that sharing had allowed him to glow closer to some...

The ice alien shakes his head slightly, beginning to stir again. The ingredients are all starting to come together, forming that thick dough... considering Carlisle's words a moment more, he pulls the spoon out and sets it down, placing the bowl back in front of his friend. He likes working together with the clergyman, especially in a more harmless endeavor. Usually when they've combined efforts it has been in dangerous, life-threatening situations with high stakes. This is decidedly more pleasant.

For Carlisle, it's less that he's concerned about the people who would be brought to Hadriel and more worried about how they would affect him. Being away from his home, away from people who know his name and what he's supposed to live up to has been liberating in a way he's hesitant (and a little ashamed) to admit; to have someone who not only knows how much of a failure he is, but could tell others as well as alerting them to the dangers of having a twice-cursed so close, would just give him even more cause for alarm. He has enough of that already.

Picking up on that somberness as it colors Glacius' tone, Carlisle picks up where he left off before the alien's thoughts drag him too far away. "Those are demons to face another day, my friend," he says as he pulls the dough from the bowl and spreads it before him on the counter before flouring his rolling pin.

Glacius huffs out a little sigh. "It's fine--really. I was just thinking about how... even though I've tried to guard it, and I don't like having the memories forcibly dredged up for me..." thanks, gods, "... Talking about it with people has been good for me. So I guess in that way I sort of... am learning to face them."

He gives a half-hearted little laugh, amused at how mixed his feelings are over all of this. Ah well--it was better than having solely negative feelings, which was how things usually seemed to work in this cave. The ice alien watches as Carlisle spreads the dough, tilting his head. "What are you doing with it now..?"

Glacius is a braver soul than Carlisle, who would rather run from his problems and drink until he can't think about them anymore than actually face them. Facing them hasn't done him much good so far anyway, if you ask him, and while he knows he can't hide forever from such things, he hopes he can at least hold out until he's dead. He'll have plenty of time to mull over his lifetime of regrets when he's trapped between the planes for all eternity.

But those are thoughts to drown later -- or maybe a little now, as he retrieve his wine glass from where it's been sitting at the far end of the counter and takes a sip. It's not unusual for him to have at least one drink with him most of the time when he's home, and if the flour on the stem is any indication, this one has been with him while he's been baking. With the rolling pin thoroughly floured, he starts flattening out the dough.

"Just rolling this out to see where the lumps are," he explains. He sets his tool aside and gets to work on kneading, folding the dough over and over, working it with his hands. "This is kneading, and is the part I find most relaxing because you can take out your stress on this ball, and it will be none the wiser."

Glacius quietly notes the wine glass--though at first he didn't think much of thew few drinks he had here and there around the apartment, it was hard not to see how it all added up when you lived with the person. He's considered many times whether or not he should say anything, is considering it again right now in fact... but he doesn't want to come off as a meddler, or seem like he's trying to control his new roommate. If he notices the habit persisting or getting out of hand, then he may eventually have to figure out some way to intervene... but when the clergyman is just having a few sips for relaxation it's not so bad, and the alien wants to continue enjoying this time with his friend. So for now he's not going to say anything about it, he'll just focus on the baking.

"Ahh, I see now. I can see how the motions themselves would be therapeutic as well... and the fact that it serves two uses is very ingenious," Glacius nods, his pupils tracking every motion of Carlisle's hands. There's something very therapeutic about just watching him work, too. The ice alien folds his arms and leans forward slightly--it lets him get a better look, but it's also remarkably laid-back posturing that the normally straight-backed, perfectly postured alien doesn't often take on. "I'm glad you have a few practices here and there that help you calm down." So far Carlisle hasn't seemed to have had much of a taste for his methods--though he'll continually try to get the human to join in whenever he can.

"One has to find ways to manage stress when you have a lot of it," he says offhandedly, a wry grin pulling at him despite what he said being anything but lighthearted. "For my father, it was making furniture. He said crafting in wood and hides allowed him to not only make use of what materials his hunting gave him, but made for nice decorations, as well."

Bread, while not nearly as permanent as furniture could be, was easier on the hands, and given how delicate Carlisle's are, that's probably one reason he prefers it.

Even if it's not lighthearted, Glacius is always glad to see his friend in stable enough condition to speak in such a humorous manner. He gives a light chuckle, thinking aloud as his gaze stays on Carlisle's hands. "Well, my people don't use wood for their decorations--and hide is rare as well-- but I'm sure it did look nice. You've seen some of my methods for coping with stress... namely the deep breathing that helps my energies cycle through my body and calms my mind. I also like to spar, as the exercise is very good not only for my physical well-being, but my mental health as well, though I... don't have many people that I can do that with, here." Perhaps he should chat up more of the guard about that. He'll have to pursue that line of thought later.

"I like to take walks, too. The park has been good for that," the alien thinks, and now turns his head to look up at the clergyman's face. "Perhaps we could do that together, at some point. It... it might be nice."

Carlisle meets Glacius' gaze; he hasn't missed how relaxed the alien seems at the moment, how unusual his posture is. It makes him feel good to know his mere presence is a comfort, even if he is just kneading dough and reminiscing about his missing family.

"I'd like that," he replies, that wry grin slipping into something more sincere. "I've got a few plants I've moved to the park that I could stand to check on. I'd have put them in the orchard, but I don't exactly trust everyone over there with my personal collection."

"Oh... certainly!" Glacius perks up, his mandible twitching--slightly, this time, so it for once doesn't agitate his wound. He'd been mentioning it just for the purpose of relaxing together, but to know that it would serve a practical use on top of that for Carlisle makes it all the better. "I would be more than happy to assist you in that regard. What sort of plants are they? Is there anything I haven't yet seen? I ask because I frequently walk down there, so I would be happy to check on them routinely to make sure nobody is tampering with them."

"My fanged ivy is out there," he explains, "toward the riverbank. And one of my bloodworts -- those are the ones with the red bulbs." He pulls his hands from the dough, hissing quietly as he flexes his fingers. "As long as they still look healthy, they're fine. They don't require as much pruning as the paw plants and the coiler."

Nothing requires as much pruning as the coiler, though. If he let that go for more than a week, it'd be all over the apartment, the cold be damned.

"I'll keep an eye out, I-- are you alright?" Now Glacius lifts his head up, certainly not one to miss that quiet hiss. He thought that kneading was supposed to be good for the clergyman, not cause him harm or difficulty. The alien begins to stand, holding his hands out to Carlisle as if offering an inspection.

He holds up a hand defensively, that disingenuous smile making an appearance. "I'm fine, Glacius. It's tiring work at times."

And it truly is, though the exhaustion and occasional numbness Carlisle feels in his limbs is admittedly troubling. The temporary loss of sensation isn't new; however, it didn't used to occur as often as it does now. It crops up on occasion when he expends any kind of energy -- even just the physical kind -- and has ever since he exhausted himself so thoroughly the first time Armand attacked him. How time does move so quickly in the city, as it has already been months since then.

He'd thought at first it might simply be magical fatigue, but he wonders now if he managed to wound himself in a more permanent fashion when he seared his veins from the inside out.

He motions for Glacius to keep sitting, and gets back to work on the bread. "You'll want to be careful with the fanged ivy, as it's quite prickly, though I assume your icy layer will keep you safer than my clothing when I handle them."

Edited 2017-01-09 05:25 (UTC)

"It does not seem very fine," Glacius insists, beginning to grow wary of that particular smile. He's not one to pry, however, so he eventually relents and lowers himself back down. The last thing that he will say on this subject is a quiet reminder. "You know you can trust me. I just want to help."

That being said, he watches Carlisle work and returns his attention to their previous line of conversation. "I don't think any thorns or sharp edges will be a problem--as you have said, my natural armor renders them harmless. I think the only way I could imagine them hurting me is if they somehow managed to make it into my gills... but even that would be extremely difficult, as I am not stupid enough to get the planets any where near such a vulnerable site... and even that happened, my operculum would help protect the organs," the ice alien explains. "In other words--you needn't worry. Though I do, as always, appreciate it."

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