tongueamok: (➣ neither time nor interest)
Carlisle Longinmouth ([personal profile] tongueamok) wrote in [community profile] hadriel_logs 2017-01-17 09:04 am (UTC)

From the other end of the line comes a shaky gasp, and then:

"G- Glacius..." It is indeed Carlisle's voice, one choked and desperate, but very much his own. He stifles a cough, but the fact that something comes up is audible even through the phone. "Th- there is a m- man who looks like me, Glacius," he rasps, holding back his initial urge to ask if the alien is all right. He has bigger things to worry about at the moment, namely:

a. that he has shears stuck in him
b. the fact he might have lodged said shears even further in when he, unable to handle the descent from the roof when in excruciating pain, collapsed down the stairs
c. the bloody trail he left leading to, at the bottom of, and wandering away from the aforementioned stairs
d. the part where he is keeping himself alive on magic and willpower alone
e. the shears

He cycles his own energy through himself, desperate to keep his body working until he can get the tool removed from his back; however, there's only so much he can do with the blades still impaling him. He hisses, continuing quietly: "He said he was coming for you. He- he looks like me."

He already established that, but he has a lot of distractions. His double has distractions of his own.

"Relying on people doesn't make me weak," he corrects as he finally decides to just take both mugs and leave the pieces for his counterpart to find when he is resurrected. No cursed abomination like the original Carlisle deserves anything nice, not even a coffee mug. "But you? You are a warrior, albeit one with a few failures under his proverbial belt. You tried to tell me, and I'll admit that I didn't listen, so that's on me."

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