hadriel_logs | Event Log: Jumpscares

Entry tags:

Event Log: Jumpscares

Who: All characters participating in the event!
What: The event log for the Jumpscares event
Where: All over the city!
When: May 16th-May 20th
Warnings: Some startling jumpscares, interdimensional demon cats, the usual

A dark shadow looms over Hadriel on the morning of May 16th. There's a tension in the air, something palpable, as if everything has gone still and is ready to snap. You've been waiting for the other shoe to drop for hours now, and you're getting to the point where you're starting to wish that it would just happen already so that you can stop feeling this way.

Of course, when it does happen, it's not quite like you expect.

Maybe it's a tiger leaping out of your closet, claws extended. Maybe it's a faceless slenderman, stepping out from around the corner or a monster with beak and claws ripping open your shower curtain when you're most vulnerable- but within seconds, after you've been startled half to death by the monsters, they're gone. They vanish in a puff of smoke, or dissipate into glitter, or become something silly instead for a few brief moments before disappearing entirely.

Weird. But not unendurable, I guess. The bright side is that there will also be a few demon cats that have also made their way through the door. No two cats are ever in the same location, but there seems to be enough of them to go around, though the toothy one can be a bit vicious. Still, they aren't untameable, and might make nice pets, as long as you don't mind a bloody finger or two when it's time for lunch!

► This log covers May 16th-May 20th.
► 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 have some heart problems that are unfortunately exacerbated by this event, please let us know here, and we're sorry.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Glacius finds himself taken aback when Carlisle looks up to him and he sees the ink trailing from his eyes; his head lifts up suddenly, his eyes go wide. It's always unsettling and heartbreaking to actually be witness to this process of degradation, to see just now tenuous his partner's grip can be not just on his health but on himself. At least he's here in the middle of it, though, and not coming upon the clergyman after the symptoms have already set in from some time; it means he can work to halt this downward spiral, and hopefully hoist him back up onto solid ground.

So he does not leave, as Carlisle suggests he should--he does not even consider it. Instead he embraces the human when he curls tightly against his middle, his icy skin rippling and pulling back to allow his partner a place where he can nestle up safely and comfortably. "No, I shouldn't, and I won't. I'm going to stay right here until this passes--until I can figure out how to help you calm down. Because I know you can. I know you can control this. Carlisle--" Glacius paused only briefly to hold him tighter, curling around the clergyman as best as he can, "--You're going to be alright. I believe in you."

The effect of those words is immediate; as Carlisle has said before, when he cannot trust himself, he will put his trust in Glacius, his friend, partner, lover. Carlisle rests himself as close as he possibly can to his partner's body, a word of gratitude escaping him with a shudder that quakes through his entire frame, the metaphysical pull of his curse subsiding as the seconds pass into one minute, then two, then several. Shielded by the warrior from the room, from the sudden frights, and from his own paranoia, Carlisle's breaths become steadier, and building apprehension in his chest that was eating him alive finally wanes.

He opens his eyes to the floor beneath him: there is so much ink, blackness threatening to pull him in. His pulls his hands from his hair, the sweat on the strands clinging to his fingers, and wraps his arms around Glacius.

"I'm fine," he murmurs, more of an agreement with Glacius' earlier assessment than his usual, placating insistence. "I'm here. You're here with me."

Glacius wasn't expecting Carlisle's response to his words to be so immediate, but then, he is perpetually underestimating the impact he has on the lives of his human friends. He's glad--and profoundly relieved--to see it, in any case; the steadying breaths are the first sign, and one deeply important, as it allows the human to focus and begin letting things fall back into place. His body shudders, then goes still as he struggles for calm; he starts to uncurl and pull his hands from his hair, his body language less beaten and terrified.

And then, finally, the clergyman returns the alien's embrace, holding him tight. The gesture will be surprising to Glacius for some time now--it's a physical sign of just how important he is to the human, of how much his partner cares for him. The ice alien might not have ever expected to find such a thing in this cave, but he appreciates it deeply. And so he smiles warmly down upon Carlisle, despite the fact that the human is currently still burrowed against him and thus can't see the expression. Glacius' powerful arms stay hooked around the clergyman, providing him with shelter and protection from the machinations of the gods, but one hand shifts to stroke his back soothingly.

"You are," the ice alien murmurs, his hand running up and down Carlisle's back a few more times before it drifts up to his hair and cradles the back of his hair, wordlessly inviting the clergyman to stay tucked up against him for as long as he feels like he needs. "You have more strength than you know... and you continue to make me proud, Carlisle."

"I am only strong because I have you to support me," Carlisle admits, watching as ink drips from his face into the puddle beneath him. Two drips, one not from his mouth -- ah. That's why his eye is burning.

He pulls one hand from around Glacius to rub at his eye, as though he might be able to hide the black liquid trailing from it and not worry his partner further. "Just... please stay here a moment longer, if you don't mind."

"I am simply helping you discover wells that you have hidden even from yourself," Glacius replies, "But... I am glad you feel that way, truly. As for request, you already know I will be right here; it is an honor to stay beside you, no matter what happens."

Carlisle nods against Glacius; he knows, truly.

The bathroom falls into silence, save fpr the sound of his ragged breaths and the occasional, stifled cough. The thudding behind his eye dissipates, and finally, after several more minutes, he uncurls just a bit.

"I... I believe I'm all right, for now." He says that, but his tone is uncertain. "Let us... away before something else happens. I don't know how much more of this madness I can take for the time being."

"Of course, Carlisle," the ice alien responds--and with that he's carefully scooping the human up in his arms again, not wanting him to have to feel like he has to walk when he's likely worn down by the effects of his curse.

It isn't until they're back in Carlisle's room that the alien sets him down--and even then, it's on the bed, so the amount of moving the clergyman has to do is minimal. After that, Glacius clambers up besides him; though he'd entertained the idea of going to clean up the bathroom, he'd much rather stay by Carlisle's side... and he likes to think he's learned his partner well enough by this point to know that is what he would prefer, as well. The ice alien starts to lay down on his side--careful as always to avoid getting his various spikes tangled in the sheets--then a thought occurs to him.

"Would you like me to turn off the lights, and use my Mote for local illumination..? Do you think it would help if you couldn't see these apparitions, or would that only make it worse?"

Once they're both on the bed, Carlisle curls up tightly beside Glacius, one palm still against his eye, the other hand grasping at the alien wherever he can reach. His fingers curl against Glacius' muscles, tension binding his own tightly. His nerves might have calmed down, but they're still frayed, ready to give at any moment.

"I... I don't know," he admits. "I suppose it would be better. Though I fear what may reach out for me in the dark, I... I trust you. I trust you to be my eyes, and see where mine cannot."

Glacius cant help the fond little croon that slips from his gills when Carlisle shelters up against him once more. He's used to fighting for people, defending them... but he's never been given the opportunity to protect someone in such a personal manner, to give them solace with his mere presence. It makes him feel... useful, but also utterly touched. Strong and good in a different sort of way than he's usually afforded, prized for more than just his combat prowess.

So the alien nods, separating himself from Carlisle only as long as it takes to turn the lights in the bedroom off; the room is only plunged into darkness for a brief moment before Glacius' Mote winks to life in his hand. The light swells bright and vibrant, thrumming away in his palm as he crosses back over to the bed and climbs up on it once more. It's a similar tactic to what Carlisle had tried back at the masquerade when he removed his glasses, stripping the rest of the world away so that the only thing he can focus on is the two of them.

"I will honor your trust as always, Carlisle," the otherworldly being replies, his voice solemn and devoted as lays down and allows the clergyman to curl up with him once more. "I will keep your fears at bay however I can."

Edited 2017-05-21 02:55 (UTC)

The room goes dark, and while that simply means more danger could be lurking in the shadows, Carlisle feels... safer with Glacius beside him, the light of the Mote vibrant, peaceful. It glows brilliantly, pushing away the clergyman's concerns as easily as the alien who conjured it had, the light's strength a reflection of its owner's.

"This is good," Carlisle murmurs, resting his head on the pillows, idly wondering just how filthy he's getting them. He can feel just how disheveled he is, even without all the ink down him: his hair is damp with sweat and unkempt, his clothes rumpled. His cloak is just lying somewhere in the hallway, abandoned there in his terror.

And yet, he repeats himself. "This is good, my friend. I'm- I'm sorry I'm a mess. More of- of a mess than usual. I feel as though the false gods could eat for a week on my energies alone."

"You already know what I'm going to say... but it bears repeating, so." Glacius pauses, slipping up closer to Carlisle as he rests back against the pillows. He doesn't seem to be at all bothered by how unkempt his partner is, only relieved to see him resting. "You don't have to apologize for any of that. I don't give a damn about the apartment or the ink; all I care about is you. I'll clean it all up once this is well and truly over with; for right now, we need to work on restoring the energies that those damn parasites are leeching off of."

"Of course."

Carlisle's agreement is somber in tone. As he keeps pawing at his eye, the ink around it dry and irritating, he knows he should address the proverbial elephant before it reaches the room.

"I don't mean to worry you further," he says, as is tradition before saying something completely and utterly worrying, "but... you are right. It is getting worse."

He doesn't specify exactly what it is, but given what they just went through -- the near-compulsion, the lost tongue, the dreadful amount of ink staining him -- Glacius doesn't have to venture far for a guess.

The Mote in Glacius' palm flickers and wavers, its light dimming for a moment as its rays struggle to turn--a reflection of his spirit, wounded by this confirmation of his fears.

"I know," the ice alien murmurs, lowering his head to graze his one intact mandible through Carlisle's hair--attempting to reassure both his partner and himself with the contact. Then, he allows the ice coating one of his large thumbs to liquefy so that he can assist the clergyman in wiping the ink from his eye. "Don't worry about worrying me; you are going through enough without feeling like you have to... hide this and put on a brave face. I am glad you finally feel like you can be open and honest about your struggles. I won't stop working to find a solution, and in the meantime I will do whatever I can to keep you safe from things that might exacerbate your condition... alright? We can't give up hope."

Carlisle is grateful for the assistance with his eye, and gives Glacius as brave a smile a star he can muster in the dark. It isn't much of one, admittedly.

"I cannot simply ignore what calling in this life I have," he notes, flexing his fingers, "but it does not help in the slightest when the false gods aggravate my energies. I have enough trouble as it is keeping such potent powers under lock and key without them making matters worse."

He stifles a cough, watching how the Mote flickers and dims, feeling guilty for every instant it is not at its brightest.

"...I wouldn't ask you to," Glacius finally relents, after some hesitation where his features were tightly-knitted like he wanted to protest, but knew he could not. "Just as you would not try to keep me from my calling as a warrior despite the risk of injury inherent. But I do ask that you exercise caution, that you do not push yourself too far... and that we continue seeking ways to keep your energy not only normalized, but well-nourished, so that you have reserves to draw upon. As for the rest of this... we must simply weather it as best we can, and that is why it is important that you trust and communicate with me, so that I can do my best to keep you calm and safe."

"If only you could erase my fears from existence with the ease that you calm my nerves," Carlisle replies, the corner of his mouth quirked by a rueful smile. He cannot begin to describe how much more at peace he feels already, listening to the gentle sounds of his partner's gills as air flutters through them, the light of the Mote holding all that would terrify him from the dark at bay.

That rueful smile gives way to a sad chuckle next, one born out of some desperate need to feel better about the grim situation he'd long-ago accepted; it's harder to do that now that he has someone he'll be leaving behind, someone who will truly miss him. "You know, I'd thought for a while there that perhaps you'd cured me of the linguistic problems related to my curse. It hasn't happened since I've been with you."

It's not really funny, but he has another laugh anyway.

"... Can it even be cured?" Glacius asks, wondering if this is something in his power to do that he's failed to achieve for his partner so far. That thought piggybacks off another, and he props himself up slightly, the better to look down into Carlisle's eyes as they talk. With his face in full view, the alien seems more concerned than anything, and only confused by his partner's laughter--as usually he's taking everything about the clergyman's condition utterly seriously, especially if this aspect of it is something he could actually fix.

"... What was that, anyways? I... I couldn't understand you at all. You never even told me that could happen."

Edited 2017-05-22 13:54 (UTC)

He answers the first question with a shake of his head, saving his words for the second.

"I am told it is the language of the Shroud," he answers quietly, placing his hand along Glacius' middle, feeling along the dips and curves of his abdomen idly, as though seeking to memorize his partner's body through touch alone. "I can understand you no better than you me when that happens. It is a rarer occurrence than the expulsion of ink, but simply another way I am marked by my curse. I didn't mean to keep it from you, so much as just never thought about it. It has been some time since it happened."

Maybe Glacius truly was holding it at bay, he thinks. Glacius does keep him safe from many things -- and he might have to do so soon, as a shadow looms just on the edges of the Mote's light. Carlisle's poor vision means he doesn't catch it on his periphery, but someone with keener eyes might be able to see it there, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

"I wasn't asking in an accusatory manner, I simply wanted to understand--" Glacius' middle tightens in surprise at that intimate, undeniably exploratory touch--but then he relaxes a moment later as a quiet, pleased sigh slips from his gills. He doesn't have anything to worry about with his partner; Carlisle always shows him the utmost respect, even when the clergyman has to examine him.

Of course, this isn't a has to sort of situation like those medical examinations had been in the past... but they've spent a lot of time close to each other. The ice alien is getting used to contact in this manner more and more each time it happens. The touch is almost relaxing enough to draw his attention away from the latest apparition to manifest in their room--almost, but not quite, as a shadow flickers through the pulsing rays cast by the Mote.

Glacius narrows his eyes, then turns the light outward. It swells and thrums in his hand, casting light not only on more of the room but on the next attempted scare--and just as it attempts to reveal itself, an explosion of energy has burst forth from the Mote, bright enough to obscure it entirely. By the time the residual energy has ebbed and the light has settled back to a more consistent glow, so too has the apparition already disappeared.

As a few glimmering particles from the blast drift through the air, reflecting off of the alien's skin in the dark, Glacius turns his attention back to his partner. The concern is clear in his face. "I am sorry for the interruption--and I hope my actions were not too sudden. I did not want to give it the chance."

Edited 2017-05-22 21:07 (UTC)

Assuming Glacius' momentary silence is caused by his fingertips trailing along the hills and valleys of the alien's frame, Carlisle doesn't interrupt it. It's not until he casts the Mote outward and dispels a looming hallucination that Carlisle sees exactly what the problem was. Though Glacius may have felt Carlisle's body stiffen against him as the light swells, it's a far cry from the panic he was enduring before.

So much so that he's laughing again, this time out of relief. He presses his brow to Glacius' side in unbridled affection. "If only I would remember to call upon you sooner, I could avoid such messes! It's- it's dreadful, isn't it? I could have- could have called you from the park, or on the way home. I guess I was too preoccupied with that cat to listen to my better judgment."

Another laugh. It is dreadful, but again, this isn't terribly funny aside from in his own mind. Glacius is always insisting Carlisle place his full trust in him, and yet he worries still. As his chuckling dies down, he gives Glacius an endearing look. "I know you think yourself incapable of protecting me at times, but you truly are my greatest defender, my love."

He's trying that nickname out. It seems fitting so far.

Edited 2017-05-23 01:27 (UTC)

That relieved laughter is a far cry better than the pained coughing or frightened, unintelligible ranting of before--but it's that heartfelt term of endearment that strikes at the alien most deeply, stunning him into silence. The Mote speaks for him, though; it thrums audibly as its rays pulse sharply.

That metaphysical light also just so happens to be the only thing keeping Carlisle from getting flipped and pounced. Instead, Glacius manages a happy little whine as he squirms, looping his free arm around his partner as he tries to tangle their legs together, clearly attempting to get them as close as physically possible without upsetting the way the human is burrowing against his side. The otherworldly being likes it when he does that--he likes being Carlisle's shelter, his haven from his fears and worries; a protector worth more than just his fighting capacity, though that is clearly valued too, if the clergyman's reassurances are any indication.

"And that is truly the greatest honor I have ever received," Glacius finally finds his voice, his words a passionate rumble. Given all of the different alien leaders he's stood before--his own included--that's no minor accolade, but Carlisle should know by now that his partner only speaks in truths. "And... I love you too. That is why you may call upon me for anything, at any time; all I want is to stand by your side, and to make your life in this cave easier to bear, if I can."

That certainly is a bold thing, for Glacius to consider their relationship, and what he brings to it, his highest honor; Carlisle would assume that statement to be hyperbole if he didn't know better regarding Glacius' people and their regard for speaking only the truth. That, of course, means the sentiment is absolutely genuine, and that's something that makes Carlisle's own heart swell. It's not a terrified beating that resonates from it now, but one warm and full of life.

"You make it more than easier to bear, my friend," he says. The light of the Mote reflects off Glacius' icy shell and back onto Carlisle as he repositions himself, sliding an arm beneath him so he can prop himself up and look into his lover's eyes. He can catch glimpses of ink on his hands in the pulsing light, his fingers still stained black as he brings them to Glacius' face, sliding them beside the alien's mandible to guide his partner's head to the bridge of his nose.

As they connect, he closes his eyes, murmuring softly again. "You make it worth living. You make me feel more alive than I ever have. And for me, someone with my condition and my lineage, that's... quite something."

"You flatter me with such honors," Glacius purrs, taking the invitation to press his face to Carlisle's without hesitation. "I am truly lucky to have a partner that validates my efforts with his kind words... and... I am glad that I have been able to make a difference in your life. You have made one in mine, as well--you make me feel safe and... loved in a world where I previously knew only suffering and loneliness. You healed my wounds, both fresh and old; the kindness you have extended to me has given me hope for humanity, helped me to begin putting the torment they subjected to behind me."

The ice alien pauses, then brings his free hand up, threading through Carlisle's hair to cradle the back of his head as he nuzzles against the human's brow and the bridge of his nose. "Everything I've been through, you... you make it all worth it. And that is quite something, as well."

Glacius' hand is cool against Carlisle's hair, the still-damp roots sticking slightly to the alien's fingers as he weaves them through the strands. His words make Carlisle feel emboldened once more -- just as he makes the alien feel loved and cared for in a world that once isolated him, so Glacius gives him further purpose, a reason to live beyond the short days he has. That's a thought that will sting more later; for now, Carlisle is happy to bask in the attention he's getting as it keeps his fears away.

Or nearly does. There's half a second where he pauses, thinks to look over his shoulder. What if something is there? What if he keeps his back to it, only for it to strike out at him? A perfect moment, ruined by the false gods.

... which is currently being ruined by his insecurities. His fingers curl, one against the comforter on the bed, the other along Glacius' body. As much as he wants to cater to his own paranoia, as he has done for years, he must work toward trusting Glacius. He said he'd protect them both, and did so just moments before. His people are not prone to lying.

Carlisle closes his eyes again, and presses himself more fervently against his partner, determination he never found on his own setting in. "I can feel the darkness behind me," he utters through his teeth, "but I will not let those damnable false gods take this from me. From us."

Glacius frowns, tightening his hold on Carlisle in a reassuring hug when the human presses against him more adamantly. At that point he decides to re-situate them--it's an easy enough thing to hold the human against his body as he turns them both over so that the clergyman is not beside him, but underneath him. It's the alien's hope that when he's so close above the human, he won't be able to see the darkness, but only his large, looming frame--and that having the otherworldly being's body draped over him will make him feel shielded, not trapped.

"Nor will I, though you do me proud by rallying," Glacius murmurs reassuringly. "Would it helped if I turned the lights back on? I had only meant for the darkness to try and narrow your focus down to just the two of us... but if it is distressing you, I can dispel it."

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