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

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."

A part of Carlisle wants to take Glacius up on his offer, to have the lights back so he can see the illusions coming; however, the other part of him stubbornly refuses to let the false gods -- and his fears -- control him, especially in moments like these. He has had enough of that, and if he is to make an honest attempt at trusting his partner, he must see it through.

Having Glacius above him, blocking most of his view of the looming darkness, does help, though. He reaches up to Glacius' face, his hand caressing that scar, and answers: "I have you to shield me from my insecurities. That is all I truly need."

"Again, you flatter me--but also remember that I do not want you to feel like you have to gloss over your worries or troubles for my own sake. If something is bothering you, if there is something more I can do for you, well..." Glacius pauses, tilting his head against the hand on his scar as his eyelids flutter, "...I trust that you will tell me."

Carlisle gives Glacius a soft smile, one illuminated by the light reflecting off and refracting through the icy armor. "I will," he returns. "I am still learning how to manage us, but I am trying. Truly."

He know Glacius knows, but it bears repeating. His fingers trail along the scarred flesh delicately, enticingly. "What is bothering me now is that I can still see some of the darkness where troubles may hide. I would be better if- if you were closer."

Despite the rawness of his throat and the general weariness of his muscles from his earlier panic, he still pursues physical closeness, his hand at Glacius' jawline guiding the alien to meet his forehead once more.

"Ah... of course," Glacius replies, seeming surprised that Carlisle is pursuing this so insistently despite the aforementioned difficulties. He's certainly not one to protest, though, especially since he likes the fact that he can provide his partner with comfort through his mere proximity. So he shifts, doing his best to keep a hold on his Mote as he leans further over the clergyman, lowering his head to press their forehead together. There's not much space between the rest of them, either, though the alien is doing what he can to keep the full brunt of his bulk off of Carlisle; he wants him comfortably covered, not crushed or completely pinned.

"Being close like this is better for me, too," he murmurs--just in case his partner starts to worry about inconveniencing him, or seeming to needy. "When I focus on you, it helps to keep that feeling of dread and tension from my mind; instead all I can find myself thinking of is... how much you mean to me."

Edited 2017-05-23 20:16 (UTC)

Carlisle's eyes remain closed as Glacius speaks, shutting out all but his voice, the feeling of how close they are, and what light from the Mote bleeds through his eyelids. Though his can still feel the sharp tingle of paranoia itching at the back of his neck, he forces himself to focus on what truly exists: himself, his partner, and the bond they share. It's easier when he has distractions, whether it's pruning away at superfluous leaves, the respite he finds in intoxication, or... other pursuits.

The hand at Glacius' scarring lingers only for a moment more before he pulls it away; in its stead, he places his other hand along the intact mandible, his nails tracing the deep grooves where the connective tissues lie. That leaves his left hand free to remove his glasses and set them aside.

"Show me," he urges in a voice barely above a whisper, his eyes finding their focus on his partner's face. "Show me how much I mean to you."

Whatever emotions Fear is trying to pump into them ebb even more as Carlisle searches for the hollow underneath his intact mandible; Glacius closes his eyes, too, a pleased little groan slipping from his gills. While it's the sort of treatment he could openly bask in, he doesn't get the chance; a few mere moments after they've slipped shut they snap open again, as Carlisle whispers out that urgent demand. He's surprised at his partner's sudden forwardness, as it is rare behavior indeed... but more than happy to take up this chance not only to prove the depths of his endearment, but to show that what they have is powerful enough to keep the god's efforts at bay.

So the otherworldly being responds readily. "Of course, Carlisle," Glacius rumbles out, powerful and earnest. Juggling the Mote while doing this is going to be more difficult, especially with all the different places he suddenly wants to touch his partner--his own desire fueled by the need that had underscored that quiet urging. He starts with tried and true methods of making the clergyman melt, wasting no time in baring his free hand and slipping it underneath Carlisle's upper layers so that he can fondle and massage at those dark purple scars. His hips, meanwhile, press to his partner's with more intentional force, attempting to tease him with pressure before he starts rocking against him.

And melt he does. Realizing quickly that Glacius won't be able to hold onto his Mote and caress him, Carlisle summons a light of his own, a tangible orb of illumination manifesting in the palm of his hand; he barely has the chance to set it aside on the comforter before his fingers curl, Glacius' ministrations upon his abdomen and that pressure against his hips quickly unraveling his composure. He continues to rake against the deep hollow of Glacius' mandible, his other hand finding a spot on the alien's arm to rest.

It's there for another minute or two, his grip tightening as his breathing picks up steadily. As far as diversions from his nerves go, this one is certainly the one that works the best. Every rock of their hips is a reminder of their bond, Carlisle's quiet calling of Glacius' name just under his breath further emphasizing just how much he needs this, needs the way Glacius helps him escape from the trepidation he lives with on a daily basis. It is only with Glacius that he finds such sanctuary, after all.

Oh, that's helpful! Glacius wishes that he could set his Mote up on the bed with Carlisle's light, as the significance there would be very nice indeed... but then he remembers that the clergyman claimed his own has no deeper meaning, and without a bridge to link it, the alien's extinguishes itself when separated from its Source. It's no different here; with his partner's light illuminating them both in the dark, the otherworldly being allows his Mote to wink out, freeing up the use of both hands.

The question now is what to do with it--the obvious answer is a step he doesn't want to take just yet, as he's very much enjoying their combined motions, and savors the chance to get his partner more worked up before he sates him. So he puts more of himself into that, using his now freed-up hand to brace himself as he treats Carlisle to more thorough grinding. Something about the way he has the clergyman flat on his back as calls out the alien's name makes Glacius feel deeply powerful, even as he puts his own need on display by tilting his head up to try and garner more of those scratches against his hollow. That adamant, focused attention is causing stirrings within the alien, stirrings that he can feel his partner's body responding to given how flush they are... it's all enough that the alien's gills finally flare open as he moans out Carlisle's name in return, the quiet creaking of the mattress beneath them underscoring the vocalization as Glacius devotes his considerable strength to pleasing the clergyman.

It takes Carlisle a moment to concentrate enough for it, but he finally does conjure another orb for the other side of the bed, the shadows there gathering too thickly for his liking. He doesn't manage to get it over there, though: he fumbles with it just as he reaches across his chest, the ball slipping through his fingers as his body shudders with Glacius' steady rhythm against him. It rolls off his sweater and has enough momentum to go right off the edge of the bed, popping once it hits the ground.

With one hand still occupied at the alien's mandible, Carlisle places his free hand now along the side of Glacius' torso, the thick muscles there giving him plenty of purchase to brace himself as Glacius continues to grind against him. His body responds to those stirrings not just physically, but magically as well, as Glacius can no doubt feel that subtle pull against his will once more. A far cry from the desperate plea it had been earlier, it is now a gentle suggestion, and one Glacius may recognize.

More.

Despite the nature of it -- it's not even a full compulsion, but a slight beckoning barely perceptible at the back of the mind -- Carlisle isn't yet so far gone that he doesn't recognize it. He mumbles an apology just before uttering Glacius' name once more.

Though that scritching at the sensitive flesh underneath his mandible is more than enough to seize his complete attention, the flicker of light from the next orb that Carlisle conjures manages to snag Glacius' eye. He'd have moved to help the cleric with the light if his own hands weren't currently occupied; that just makes him all the more impressed that the human is able to muster up the concentration to work his magic in the midst of what's going on. The idea of having his partner attempt to concentrate on spellcasting or some other form of work while he works on him is enticing to the alien, but he opts to not interrupt what they have going for now.

That's just as well, as something else snaps up the otherworldly being's attention a few moments later. A familiar voice, making a familiar request of him... Glacius can't help but rumble out a deep chuckle in response to the words Carlisle follows up with out loud. "You don't need to apologize to me for this--it is my pleasure, quite literally, especially when you follow it up with noises like that."

He means the breathless moaning of his voice, which is always a surefire way to send a thrill coursing through the big alien. It's something he'd clearly like to hear more of, as he lifts his hips just enough to worm a hand between them, rubbing at the swell of his partner. Despite wanting to play along with that subtle pull against his will, it seems Glacius doesn't want to release Carlisle from the tightening confines of his clothing just yet; he's aiming to distract him from his fears and worries, so the more worked up he can get him before they dive into this, the better.

With Carlisle currently a little breathless from Glacius' attention, he answers with a nod, apologizing again (though probably apologizing for the apology this time). The hand at his obvious arousal makes him bite his lip; it's through his teeth that he utters again.

"I always wonder if I, ah. Should reciprocate more in some way, or if I'm simply easier to, um." He shudders again, his legs finding their way around Glacius' hips to give him more stability against the rocking. It's not terribly comfortable, but then again, neither are his clothes at the moment. "If- if it's easier to get me riled."

Which it is, and he knows it. His hand finally retreats from Glacius' mandible, if only to start pulling at his sweater.

Glacius can't help but be sad to feel Carlisle's hand leave him even if just for a moment, but it at least makes it a little bit easier to focus on his partner when he isn't being actively flooded with pleasurable sensations. He shakes his head a little bit as if trying to clear it, then smiles down at his partner.

"You are easily riled, but... only with me, so it's more than fine," the ice alien chuckles fondly, confirming what the clergyman already assumes. "It's flattering, and... arousing in its own right. If you ever want to reciprocate more you and more than welcome, and I would certainly enjoy it, but... this is wonderful, too."

As if to prove that, Glacius moves to help Carlisle with his sweater, then immediately lowers his head so that his mandible can take over for his hand, passionately kissing every inch of those abdominal scars. Unfortunately, he's too big of a creature for their hips to line up when he's positioned here, so he lets his hands take over--taking his sweet time as he undoes the buckle on the clergyman's pants and then slips one behind the waistband, letting it drift lower inch by inch.

There's something about Glacius' response that draws a genuine laugh out of Carlisle. "Wonderful, he says. This coming from someone who might be the very definition of such a woooorr—"

He does not finish his assessment before a long shudder escapes from him, his body quivering as the point of Glacius' mandible draws across his scars. The pressure is a far cry from that of the massage he'd been getting before: instead of it being spread evenly across Glacius' large hands, it's all concentrated on a single, moving point of contact now, with all the sensitivity the old wounds feel honed upon it.

One might think that a many who was raked across his abdomen by a bear would feel frightened by such a sensation, but given the source, Carlisle finds it impossible to even contemplate relating that feeling with fear. As his body trembles once more, his breath shaking along with it, such a feeling is intensely tantalizing. And when combined with the pawing at his loins, it is pure ecstasy.

One of Carlisle's hands lands upon Glacius' head, his fingers wrapping lightly around one of the horns found there as though it'd ground him, keep him from getting lost in a moment of incredible sensation; the other tries again with the orb of light, though with his energies stirred by the beginnings of euphoria, it turns out far more vibrant than the last, the light within it more akin to the Mote than normal. He leaves the orb beside him as his hand returns to Glacius' face, helping guide his partner along the violet scars that cut across him.

Edited 2017-05-24 21:38 (UTC)

Again, the flaring of light catches Glacius' attention; he lifts his gaze and finds it burning brighter now, reflecting in his glowing green eyes, emphasizing the way they seem to be literally shining with happiness. Again, he reminds himself that the lights Carlisle conjures don't hold the same meaning as a Mote might... but given that utterly carefree laugh, the heartfelt sentiments, and now the way his partner's body is taut with ecstasy, arched toward his mandible and hands as if wordlessly begging him to continue... well. He'd like to think he's contributing to some emotional buffer that enables the light to burn so brightly.

Whatever the cause, he doesn't get long to revel in the elation he feels as he gazes upon the orb, as Carlisle's hand finds one of his horns and guides his mandible back to his middle. Glacius rumbles out some husky laughter, all too pleased with the assignment--and his enthusiasm shows through in the way he switches between nuzzling and kissing. With his heart pounding in his chest from a heady mixture of love and desire, he can't help but go to further efforts to treat him to more of that elation and pleasure; the alien curls his bared hand around his partner, finally indulging him in some slow and thorough pumps of his hand as he continues to graze those scars with his mandible.

The first few pumps get Carlisle's heart racing, the dull thudding from his chest practically audible beneath his labored breaths; the next cause his back to arch, a groan pushing its way out of him as his legs writhe against Glacius' sides, trying to find support from the waves of sensation coursing through him. His hand tightens around the alien's spines, one remaining there while the other presses against his face, his palms to his eyes. There's that intense warmth, both incredible and uncomfortable all at once -- and yet, that heat is what he craves, what he basks in with every second Glacius spends working him.

Another groan rattles out of his chest as the seconds tick by, this one sudden, louder than he'd expected. Glacius isn't the only one who hears it: in the light from the orbs, a giant spider descends from a single thread from the ceiling, looking to land atop the clergyman's head, its spindly legs reaching down and out as though to encompass his entire face. Carlisle hasn't yet seen it, but how could he? Not only are his eyes still closed, but Glacius is showering him with so much affection that he couldn't see straight even if he wanted to.

The city might still be out to get them, but what they share is indeed stronger, powerful enough that Carlisle doesn't even consider danger still around him... and given his usual, skittish behavior, that is certainly a feat. Carlisle might not be able to feel the arachnid looming above him, but he does feel his own powers working against him once again, the pull of his aural compulsion reaching out again to both himself and his partner. The urge is stronger this time, its grasp more powerful as desperation settles in.

Despite Glacius' earlier insistence, Carlisle does his damnedest to apologize, but it hardly makes it out between the staggered breaths, the pressure building in him trying to escape. "S- sorr- ah- s- sorry, my- my- ah—!"

That moan, too, was louder than he'd expected, if how red he turns is any indication.

Edited 2017-05-25 03:38 (UTC)

Glacius simply dismisses his partner's apologies with another rumbling chuckle, taking one of of Carlisle's hands in his own and lacing their fingers together as the other one stays busy, working the clegryman faster now--clearly intending to push him right over the edge. Those groans rising up into needful cries and that desperate writhing are all intoxicating and their own right, and Glacius craves more of it, especially as close to Carlisle as he is. It's so rare to see his partner utterly lost to everything around him... and that's exactly what he wanted. To prove that their relationship could prevail over the machinations of the gods-- that their feelings for each other were far stronger than even the powers of their captors.

Their coupling is an utter success in that regard... and hopefully in another equally important way as well. Though he does his best to give Carlisle whatever time to recover that he needs after the fact, the ice alien can't help but fall back on the request that tossed them into this particular, fervent romp. Flopping down on his side, Glacius props his head up one one hand as he gazes down at his partner's eyes his flush, exhausted form; his gaze is equal parts smug and adoring.

"So, did I show you properly? Do you understand... just how much you mean to me now..?"

It takes the exhausted Carlisle a moment to piece himself together enough to attempt an answer. He's even more of a mess than he was before, his body still covered in ink in places, but now also in a sheen of sweat from their passionate coupling. He simply nods at first, his chest still heaving as he tries to catch his breath. By the time he opens his eyes, the hallucinatory spider he'd never even known was there is gone, the machinations of the gods held at bay for the time being.

It's just as he wanted, and just what Glacius hoped to prove: if they trust in one another, they can accomplish so much, even when faced with all the powers of their captors. They are stronger together, after all.

Carlisle's slate eyes land upon the vibrant green ones of his partner; his might not glow as Glacius' do, but in that moment, they are no less alive, as they are filled with ardent, earnest affection. He nods again, a smile cutting across him as he reaches for Glacius' free hand, pulling it atop his bare chest. His heartbeat is thunderous, but significantly so. It pounds not because of fear, but for the alien before him.

"I understand," he sighs, content. His fingers curl around Glacius' hand, this grip somewhat loose from blissful fatigue. "I understand perfectly."

It's always and uplifting and joyous thing to see Carlisle's eyes filled with anything other than weariness, uncertainty, or fright, and in that moment the alien sees a flash of the man that had smiled at him from that portrait: young, happy, and full of life. The latter is further reinforced as the clergyman invites him to place his hand upon his chest and he feels that strong, steady heartbeat. Sighing with all the fondness and contentment in the world for this moment and the person laid before him, Glacius returns the squeeze of his partner's hand, his own grip firm and strong.

"Good... I'm so very glad," the ice alien replies, pulling himself further up the bed so that he can properly lay next to his partner; his hand never leaves the human's chest. "Next time you start to feel glum, or down on yourself, I hope you can remember these moments of closeness, and the adoration I have for you."

"And if I cannot remember such moments," Carlisle returns with another sigh, "I'm sure you can remind me."

His hand shakes as he reaches over to grab the more vibrant of the two orbs, moving it aside so he can scoot closer to his partner. He closes his eyes, shutting out all but them once more.

Well, all but them and the still-present pounding of his own heart in his chest -- he can't help but smile as he catches his breath. "And to think not an hour ago, I thought I might drop dead in the bathroom because my heart was racing so fast, yet it beats so stubbornly now, and I have never felt more secure in my life."

"Any time, anywhere," Glacius responds, the smugness winning out in his gaze for a moment. It doesn't last; his smile softens when Carlisle shelters up against him once more.

"Well, of course--I couldn't let your heart give out on you, given what a good one it is. It just needed a little bit of tending to help it find its strength... just like its owner," the ice alien replies, smoothing his hand over the clergyman's pectoral muscle as he feels the steady beating for himself. Feeling it this full of life never fails to be a comfort to the big creature, who tends to worry about Carlisle's health... probably even more than the clergyman himself does, if that's even possible. After a moment of consider it he stretches out and lays his head upon his partner's chest the better to listen for himself.

"I'll be sure to keep it well looked after from here on out--and the same goes for that sense of security, too. You provide me the same, after all," the otherworldly continues, his voice gentle. It's the truth; cuddled up close and bathed in the soft illumination from the human's light, he feels peaceful, safe. He'll probably always conflate it with his people's Motes, try as he might to remind himself of the differences... but that's alright with Glacius, as it nourishes the part of his soul that has been so wounded by separation from his culture. It's just another little quirk in their partnership that adds reinforces that sense of belonging that he feels when he is with Carlisle.

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