[Glacius' hand curls tighter in Carlisle's clothes despite himself, the agony plaguing him every moment he battles with indecision. Even his features are knitted tightly together are this point from everything he's enduring... and still... he places the needs of his partner and of others before himself.] I wish I could, but... it's... a disaster out there, Carlisle. The likes of which I've never seen before. People will need your help, your blessed gift... and you will need your strength to see to them. Are you sure...?
[Carlisle closes his eyes, leaning to rest his forehead upon Glacius' as he places his hand on the alien's chest.]
I have all the strength I need when I am with you.
[He might not be able to fix his partner's arm, but he pushes energy into his hand and through his palm, intending to close the warrior's open wounds. He keeps the flow gentle, a delicate stream rather than an uncontrollable torrent; he must maintain the incredible vitality that the Mote allows him, no matter how badly he wants to soothe his lover's injuries. The searing pain that comes with his healing tends to do exactly the opposite.]
[Glacius will have to revel in that heartwarming sentiment later, as Carlisle is already passing energy between them to close his wounds. He squeezes his eyes shut and twists at the fistful of fabric he's got as he feels that low, burning pain settle in the site of his missing limb... but, surprisingly, the worst of the searing sensation that he'd been bracing himself against never comes. His hammering heartbeats steady themselves underneath the cleric's other palm, and he cracks his eyes open to look at his partner, finally relinquishing his hold on his tabard as his whole body, once tense, now slumps.]
Miraculous. Th-thank you. [The words slip out like a breathy exhale; the alien may no longer be in quite as much pain, but he's still exhausted. Yet he doesn't want to close his eyes; every time he does, visions of the calamity play back through his mind.]
[Carlisle's reply also escapes with a breath, the clergyman fighting back weariness as he slides himself beside his partner, trying to give him more support with which to stand. Even missing an arm, the icy warrior's bulk makes it more of a futile gesture than anything actually helpful.]
All right. To rest with both of us. Let's see if we can't find some peace for you, my friend.
Peace... [Glacius murmurs it vacantly, like he's fighting to stay present, or maybe as though he's already plagued by what he's seen outside.] I hope that too, but I... do not know if it will be possible. There is such ruination all around us, Carlisle. And I can't help but wonder... is there more I could have done to stop it? Was I... not enough to protect what my friends hold dear?
[The loss of the clinic has been particularly hard on him, apparently. He's viewed himself as its guardian of sorts, ever since Kate's disappearance. Now that she's back that duty has only become even more important to him; it's hard not to feel like he's failed in it, and in doing so, failed her and everyone who ever needed that place for shelter or recuperation.]
[Carlisle holds his breath as he helps Glacius to the bedroom, trying to hide the effort it takes. With Glacius beside him, he may have all the strength he needs to heal others, but his physical endurance still leaves something to be desired. He exhales heavily as he releases his partner, his mind already turning over Glacius' concerns. His partner is troubled, and as angry as he wants to be toward some people in this situation -- Kate, he wants to be angry at Kate specifically for no doubt running into danger to protect the clinic, not thinking about the turmoil she'd be putting Glacius through -- he knows in his heart he must be the rational one right now.
Besides... Glacius' words echo deep into him, stirring at memories he'd rather forget. He slides onto the bed and leans against the back of it, opening his arms so that Glacius may rest his great head upon his lap.]
I have asked myself that many times regarding my family. Do you remember what you have told me, Glacius?
[There seems to be nothing more that Glacius wants in the moment to just that; the alien hauls himself up wearily onto the bed, then collapses on one side before rolling over so that his head ends up in his partner's lap. His eyes slip shut immediately, but it's the question that stills him, not any pain or fatigue; he holds his breath and then exhales it in a tired, broken chuckle. So now it is the human that turns his own words on him.]
I do, well enough that I could repeat them back to you. But... Makers help me, right now I think I... need to hear it from your mouth. [Even just asking that seems so terribly self-indulgent to the alien, but it's been a long time since he's actually felt defeated, and if they're supposed to be open with each other about their needs and emotions...]
[That's a request Carlisle is happy to fulfill. He slides his hand along the alien's scarred face, his caress a gentle reassurance of the bond between them. His voice is soft, barely above a whisper.]
Sometimes, things happen that we cannot change.
[He leans to the nightstand, pulling open the drawer and removing a sheet of paper from the small stack he keeps in there.]
But that does not mean that we are at fault for the outcome of those events. At times, we press on and do the best we can, and we must accept that for what it is.
[Setting it on top of the piece, he places his hand on the contact point of the glyph written on it. The room darkens, then illuminates once more with the light of illusionary stars.]
You are not alone in this world, nor are you alone with your struggles. Do not feel the need to carry these burdens on your own, my friend.
[Glacius lets out a quiet rumble as he lets the words sink in, tilting his head into his lover's gentle, affectionate caress.] I'm unlearning that behavior after years and years of doing just that... that's why I'm talking to you about them now. [The injured warrior gives another chuckle, but there's a bit more heart to this one. Another moment ticks by and he brings his one remaining hand up to clasp Carlisle's, basking in the quiet succor.] Thank you for... saying all of that, though. For reminding me to follow my own words. Failure... never feels very good, but I must not allow it to tear me down. That is where strength comes from. From that... and from you.
[Glacius sighs, sweeping his over the clergyman's hand, cracking one eye open as he feels the human shift. He only briefly wonders what his partner is up to before the darkness of the room around them is filled with illusionary but familiar stars, glowing beacons that have come to signify his partner's care for him. His reaction is immediate, pleasure at the sight softening the reactionary chastising to something fond.] Carlisle..! Your energy. Such a long road ahead of us both, and still you place me before yourself without so much as a second thought. Giving me the stars as glowing testaments to the fact that you are here, that I am not alone. Just remember... I want to keep it that way. I... I don't want you to push yourself too far, so save yourself where you must.
No matter what I am going through, I will always be here to remind you to look after and believe in yourself. [Glacius murmurs this quietly, as he stares up into Carlisle's glowing eyes. It's good to know that despite the pain he's in and the way the world is falling down around them, they can still find little snatches of peace together.
But he can't indulge in this for long; as much as he would rather remain in his partner's arms, he has a duty to the innocent of this city, a sense of honor that will not allow him to remain idle when the world is rife with suffering. He gives the clergyman's hand a squeeze, smiling sadly up at him.] Either way, we should both try to look after ourselves and each other and rest while we can. The sooner I get back out there, the sooner I and the others out there fighting can hopefully bring this to an end. But I promise, Carlisle... I won't leave you alone for so long again. I'll be sure to come back every night to check in on you and give us both solace... alright?
[With a soft, albeit sad sort of smile down at his partner, Carlisle nods.]
All right. I will be fine, my friend. It is you I worry about as you thrust yourself into danger, but... I trust we will make it through this. Together.
Yes. Together. So remember that I need you, and don't push yourself too far. I know that I cannot ask you to stop helping others, and I would not want to, just... be mindful of your own health and safety in the process. Can you promise me that?
[Carlisle knows he must do what he can for the injured, for the beleaguered and downtrodden in all of this -- his goddess would favor him using his gifts to help others, surely.
But he doesn't know if she can see him here. Perhaps she cannot even hear his fervent prayers or desperate pleas. He knows someone who can, though. Someone who does. Someone who cares so deeply for him that Carlisle cannot fathom the heartbreak he would feel should something happen to him, either from the Null or his own, poor health.
And so, he nods again, his hand back on Glacius' scar.]
Good. This world is blessed for your kind spirit, and I am glad you are here to aid us.
[That being said, there's little either of them can do now but rest and try to save up some energy for the arduous trials ahead of them. Glacius closes his eyes and tries to do just that, and he actually is able to nod off due to sheer exhaustion-- the agony he's already been fighting through thanks to the loss of his arm has worn him down--but he isn't able to rest for long, knowing what's going on around them. Especially not when the telltale sound of combat with the Null spreads too close to the Spire in which they rest, rousing him from troubled sleep.
And so the alien goes back out, though he returns every night as he promised to see to his partner... and then one day, when Fear has temporarily teleported the city and the Null stragglers have nearly all been dealt with, he comes back to the apartment for good. Even he couldn't push himself much further, he thinks; his form is barely recognizable, with his icy shell cracked in some places, melted down unevenly in others, and burned away to reveal painfully scorched flesh in the worst of cases. Shocks of bone and blood further the grisly display, remnants of the terrible war cut deep into his body. He makes the call to have Carlisle arrange Healing Ice for him before he gets back, and he wishes he could just liquidize and slip into the bedroom unnoticed to save his partner the grief of seeing him like this... but with the extent of his injuries he cannot shift, so upon returning to the apartment he has to stumble to his resting place with the human's help.
At least it's not a final resting place; Glacius passes into torpor underneath the heavy pileup of snow that Carlisle has prepared for him, but the Mote confirms he is alive-- if not completely dormant--and not in any pain any more, either. It doesn't pulse, rotate, or thrum, but its light remains steady, and gradually grows more vibrant from its initial piteous flicker should the clergyman find the resourcefulness to monitor him through it.
If not, he'll get confirmation of his hopes and fervent prayers for the alien's safety about half a week later, after the city is teleported one more time, when a familiar rumble resonates throughout the apartment. Should Carlisle hear it and enter the bedroom he'll see that the ice alien is finally waking, using the spikes that jut from his shoulders to clear away the Healing Ice encasing him. Now fully restored, it is time for Glacius to see to the world again-- and to the person who has saved him yet again.]
[The second day after Glacius returned for good was better than the first. The first was not one Carlisle could consider ideal by any stretch of the imagination: yes, perhaps the majority of the danger had finally passed for the city as a whole, but for Carlisle's small world -- his apartment, his rabbit, his lover, and the odds-and-ends he surrounded himself with as a distraction from the daily burden of being him -- it was as distressing as the moment the Null had arrived in Hadriel and Glacius had gone to battle them. While Carlisle himself had fared well enough during the assault thanks to his enchanted cape, as well as the fact that the automatons seemed to pay him no mind, Glacius had garnered enough injuries for both of them... and more. Though no stranger to the alien's violet blood, the healer could not help but be shocked at the wounds, some of them days old, others painfully fresh and oozing.
However, he stifled his panic, fighting to keep his concerns from overwhelming him. Glacius needed help, and it was his job to provide it both as clergy and as his Bondmate. What good was he if he couldn't do that much?
And so, the walls of the bedroom were painted with glyphs, this time to conjure as much snow and ice as possible, creating a frozen womb in which the alien could recuperate. It could be worse, Carlisle reminded himself ruefully as he helped his partner to the summoned, frosty bank he'd manifested with both of their energies through the Mote. Glacius could be dead. Yes, it could be worse.
Somehow, that didn't make him feel better at all, so he swallowed that down as well with a nervous smile and activated a second set of glyphs, ones to help bury his partner beneath the snow.
And then, Carlisle was alone. Though able to feel Glacius through the Mote within him, the alien's presence felt so much weaker that Carlisle feared he might not awaken ever again, and the icy encasement would become his tomb. The fear of that, of losing his beloved partner and failing him in the same breath, was plenty to keep Carlisle awake that first night. He waited by the ice, the blankets wrapped around him doing little to stave off the cold festering in his numb limbs.
Morning came, and though Glacius was still under the snow... the second day was better, albeit marginally. The connection to Glacius through the Mote felt stronger, bit by bit, and that was enough to give Carlisle a modicum of hope. He needed it, given how his body was quickly catching up with all the strain and stress he'd been under during the attack. Though he hadn't had to fend off the Null himself, his emergency healing duties had worn on him, and he spent the third day coughing up more ink than he liked. It filled the bathroom sink as it poured from him; he felt as though his chest might collapse if he coughed any more. Healing it would be counterproductive, unfortunately.
The third day also saw the world beyond the windows of the apartment change: they shifted once again, as it had when the gods created their illusionary cityscape. However, this world was far different and no illusion, and the changes only made Carlisle worry more for his absent partner, worry what would happen when he awakened.
Should he awaken. That was the thought Carlisle had taken with him as he struggled to sleep.
Thankfully, the fourth day brings Carlisle respite: that morning, he feels a familiar thrum through his chest, two hearts beating in tandem with his own. He peels himself off the floor of his closet and tears into the other bedroom, his eyes wide with desperate anticipation as a set of spikes clear away the icy shell. His hair is a mess, sticking up oddly on one side where he fell asleep on it, and his eyes look packed for an extended vacation; his hands are dry from all the scrubbing it took to get the ink out of the pristine bathroom... and yet Carlisle smiles just a little regardless, his heart that much lighter at the sight.]
Welcome back, my friend.
[More than that, but Glacius knows. Even if he didn't, he could surely feel the incredible relief Carlisle is feeling resonating freely through the Mote.]
lol i goofed this is actually on the 15th. 11th was initial return to the apartent
[As he clears the snow away from himself, Glacius rises into a proper kneel, his back straight and his hands on the anterior part of his thighs. With his head held high he swivels it to regard Carlisle as the clergyman enters; the alien's eyes are glowing fiercely with renewed energy, though it is calming as he wakes and comes back to awareness, his pupils reappearing from the blazing green light.]
Thank you. It is good to be back, and I am sorry for the time I was away. Now... [Glacius casts a lopsided and utterly fond grin upon truly taking in Carlisle's disheveled appearance, particularly that messy which is normally so fastidiously kept; no doubt his absence has been hard on the human.] ... get over here and let us embrace. I have not been able to hold you properly since the onset of that sweeping conflict, and this is the first thing that I must set right.
[The relief he's feeling bleeding through every channel of their link is a good start, but the alien knows he can provide more directly... and besides, he's missed his partner as much as Carlisle has missed him. Glacius opens both his arms to the clergyman, significant given the wounds he had sustained during the war, which had left him with only one. The Healing Ice has left healthier and more full of life in every sense; even his icy shell seems healthier now, with greater thickness and luster. Nearly everything has been mended without a trace... save for a few key spots that Carlisle will probably recognize right away. Now more than ever, he has direct proof that his alien partner hadn't been lying when he'd chosen to keep the scars, be it where his right mandible once was, or where he'd had glyphs seared directly into his underbody from light.
Glacius' people don't often prescribe to wearing their history on their skin like this, but he'd never give up something that has proven to benefit Carlisle, and with the addition of the glyphs on his arm there are marks there that he too gets something from. The scars are now just like the time they have spent together growing closer: too important to erase in any capacity.]
[Carlisle doesn't hesitate at Glacius' offer, stumbling across the room and into his partner's arms with the kind of eagerness he couldn't have pictured himself ever having but a few months prior. He presses his forehead against the alien's chest, reveling in the cool sensation. It gives him relief from the idle burning he feels across—
Burning, heat, oh, that's right, he remembers after a moment, what respite he'd found fleeting. He will consider everything else -- the scars remaining, how he'd gotten into that shape in the first place, his concerns regarding them and Kate and the city in general -- later.]
Oh. Oh oh oh Glacius, now- now don't be alarmed, b- but things have- things have changed. Again. Outside.
[There's no hesitation from either of them, then; Glacius wraps his arms tightly around Carlisle the moment the human is pressed against him, and with his head resting against the alien's chest, he'll feel a telltale purr rumble out of the alien and through his body. He was expecting perhaps a bit more surprise from Carlisle in regards to him regrowing a limb in its entirety, but perhaps he actually did put as much stock in Healing Ice from the beginning as the otherworldly being told him he should. Perhaps he was expecting this... or perhaps there are simply other things on his mind.
Still safely within the frozen sanctuary made of his room by Carlisle's intricate, carefully-crafted glyphs, Glacius has not yet noticed the oppressive heat outside. He tilts his head.] So... it was that bad in the end? I suppose it might have been the only way to be sure we lose the Null that have been tracking us, even if it may only be temporary. I don't suspect they will give up so easily, but... if we have some breathing room now... why do you still seem so nervous?
[And there's Carlisle's hesitation. He knows how badly Glacius wanted to have a sky above him again, but what they have now might be... a bit much. And given the image of Glacius coming home, his icy shell melted away in many areas, is still fresh on Carlisle's mind, he's not eager to see that again.]
It's- it's that there's a lot of daylight. And heat.
[Carlisle knows his partner very well, because that first statement elicits not concern or frustration from the alien, but excitement. He moves from embracing the clergyman tightly to putting his hands on both shoulders so that he can look the human in his eyes; the aliens are tinted with eagerness and hope tinting them, and his mandible is slightly flared with the same.] Wait--daylight? As in... actual sun and sky? We finally got out of that damnable cave? Carlisle-- my partner! This is--
[... Oh. And there's the second bit.] -- more complicated than your initial statement lead me to believe. [He murmurs this out, his hopeful tone of voice quieting immediately.] You wouldn't be acting like this if there wasn't some problem. Just... how much heat are we dealing with, exactly?
[He trembles, though whether it's from stress, from fear, from anxiety, from exhaustion, or some combination thereof, even he does not know.]
And- and I kn- know that you have your glyphs for this sort of- this sort of problem, but I would rather not risk you melting away, or- or injuring yourself f-f-further, and- and maybe you will look outside and say, "Ah, Carlisle, this is fine" and I'll h- have worried for days over n- nothing, but what if it's too much? What- what do we do if you are sequestered in here? You'd be so unhappy, and they- they need your help, I'm sure, and what can I do to possibly fix this?
[He remembers at some point to breathe, so he does that here.]
[Carlisle takes that breath, and Glacius uses the moment of quiet to try and see to his partner; he rubs at his shoulders and tries to look into his eyes. The panic is... not unexpected, honestly; he knows by now that his Carlisle doesn't like change, and one this big was likely to leave him feeling a bit unraveled. What does strike at his hearts is that most of the clergyman's worries this time around aren't focused around what dangers may threaten himself... but what harm may befall the alien.
And they aren't completely unfounded, either. His microweave can protect him from all sorts of varying temperatures, but the higher they climb the more stress it puts on the systems, and the more risk and unpleasantness there is inherent. Glacius can't imagine what he would do if he actually was to be sequestered in the apartment as Carlisle suggests; what a cruel twist of fate it would be, for him to end up being even more confined despite the time he spent in the cave yearning for sky and wide open spaces. His mandible clicks.] I... I don't know. If it helps, you have done a remarkable job already; the glyphs have rendered this room perfectly cold, as I can feel not even a trace of the heat outside.
But... [and here comes another issue.] ... It's not all on you, my partner, and having you alter the environment magically every day would put too much of a drain on your precious energy. Moreover, I cannot remain trapped inside like this for the rest of my days, as you have said... my body and soul would languish. We need more information first. What are the solar cycles like? You have said there is a night; is there time in addition to this when the heat is not so extreme?
[Glacius' reassurance just leaves Carlisle stumbling more, as though his own attempt to calm his nerves failed spectacularly.]
I- I-I-I don't know. I haven't- I mean, I stepped outside briefly, but I didn't want to- want to leave you for long, and when I did, it was- I—
[He does manage to keep himself from saying he spent most of the previous day hacking up ink and lying in the bathroom floor. He presses his palm into his eye, feeling sweat on his brow in spite of the frosty temperature of the room.]
I was- was preoccupied with other- with my thoughts, and what if I left you and something went wrong? Or I slept, and you vanished in my absence? Or the ice melted from within our- our home somehow, or the rabbit dug you out, or the constructs returned, or something else catastrophic occurred and there would be nothing I could do about it? I—
He stops, another breath in and out.] I don't know. I don't have the answers, and I... was afraid to go get them until you were beside me once more.
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At least allow me to stop the bleeding. Please.
[The walls, Glacius. Think of the walls. And the floor. And his clothes. And your health.]
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I have all the strength I need when I am with you.
[He might not be able to fix his partner's arm, but he pushes energy into his hand and through his palm, intending to close the warrior's open wounds. He keeps the flow gentle, a delicate stream rather than an uncontrollable torrent; he must maintain the incredible vitality that the Mote allows him, no matter how badly he wants to soothe his lover's injuries. The searing pain that comes with his healing tends to do exactly the opposite.]
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Miraculous. Th-thank you. [The words slip out like a breathy exhale; the alien may no longer be in quite as much pain, but he's still exhausted. Yet he doesn't want to close his eyes; every time he does, visions of the calamity play back through his mind.]
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All right. To rest with both of us. Let's see if we can't find some peace for you, my friend.
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[The loss of the clinic has been particularly hard on him, apparently. He's viewed himself as its guardian of sorts, ever since Kate's disappearance. Now that she's back that duty has only become even more important to him; it's hard not to feel like he's failed in it, and in doing so, failed her and everyone who ever needed that place for shelter or recuperation.]
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Besides... Glacius' words echo deep into him, stirring at memories he'd rather forget. He slides onto the bed and leans against the back of it, opening his arms so that Glacius may rest his great head upon his lap.]
I have asked myself that many times regarding my family. Do you remember what you have told me, Glacius?
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I do, well enough that I could repeat them back to you. But... Makers help me, right now I think I... need to hear it from your mouth. [Even just asking that seems so terribly self-indulgent to the alien, but it's been a long time since he's actually felt defeated, and if they're supposed to be open with each other about their needs and emotions...]
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Sometimes, things happen that we cannot change.
[He leans to the nightstand, pulling open the drawer and removing a sheet of paper from the small stack he keeps in there.]
But that does not mean that we are at fault for the outcome of those events. At times, we press on and do the best we can, and we must accept that for what it is.
[Setting it on top of the piece, he places his hand on the contact point of the glyph written on it. The room darkens, then illuminates once more with the light of illusionary stars.]
You are not alone in this world, nor are you alone with your struggles. Do not feel the need to carry these burdens on your own, my friend.
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[Glacius sighs, sweeping his over the clergyman's hand, cracking one eye open as he feels the human shift. He only briefly wonders what his partner is up to before the darkness of the room around them is filled with illusionary but familiar stars, glowing beacons that have come to signify his partner's care for him. His reaction is immediate, pleasure at the sight softening the reactionary chastising to something fond.] Carlisle..! Your energy. Such a long road ahead of us both, and still you place me before yourself without so much as a second thought. Giving me the stars as glowing testaments to the fact that you are here, that I am not alone. Just remember... I want to keep it that way. I... I don't want you to push yourself too far, so save yourself where you must.
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I will be careful. Remember, if you allow your doubts and insecurities to wear you down, you will not be able to remind me to do so.
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But he can't indulge in this for long; as much as he would rather remain in his partner's arms, he has a duty to the innocent of this city, a sense of honor that will not allow him to remain idle when the world is rife with suffering. He gives the clergyman's hand a squeeze, smiling sadly up at him.] Either way, we should both try to look after ourselves and each other and rest while we can. The sooner I get back out there, the sooner I and the others out there fighting can hopefully bring this to an end. But I promise, Carlisle... I won't leave you alone for so long again. I'll be sure to come back every night to check in on you and give us both solace... alright?
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All right. I will be fine, my friend. It is you I worry about as you thrust yourself into danger, but... I trust we will make it through this. Together.
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But he doesn't know if she can see him here. Perhaps she cannot even hear his fervent prayers or desperate pleas. He knows someone who can, though. Someone who does. Someone who cares so deeply for him that Carlisle cannot fathom the heartbreak he would feel should something happen to him, either from the Null or his own, poor health.
And so, he nods again, his hand back on Glacius' scar.]
I promise.
[timeskip to the 11th]
[That being said, there's little either of them can do now but rest and try to save up some energy for the arduous trials ahead of them. Glacius closes his eyes and tries to do just that, and he actually is able to nod off due to sheer exhaustion-- the agony he's already been fighting through thanks to the loss of his arm has worn him down--but he isn't able to rest for long, knowing what's going on around them. Especially not when the telltale sound of combat with the Null spreads too close to the Spire in which they rest, rousing him from troubled sleep.
And so the alien goes back out, though he returns every night as he promised to see to his partner... and then one day, when Fear has temporarily teleported the city and the Null stragglers have nearly all been dealt with, he comes back to the apartment for good. Even he couldn't push himself much further, he thinks; his form is barely recognizable, with his icy shell cracked in some places, melted down unevenly in others, and burned away to reveal painfully scorched flesh in the worst of cases. Shocks of bone and blood further the grisly display, remnants of the terrible war cut deep into his body. He makes the call to have Carlisle arrange Healing Ice for him before he gets back, and he wishes he could just liquidize and slip into the bedroom unnoticed to save his partner the grief of seeing him like this... but with the extent of his injuries he cannot shift, so upon returning to the apartment he has to stumble to his resting place with the human's help.
At least it's not a final resting place; Glacius passes into torpor underneath the heavy pileup of snow that Carlisle has prepared for him, but the Mote confirms he is alive-- if not completely dormant--and not in any pain any more, either. It doesn't pulse, rotate, or thrum, but its light remains steady, and gradually grows more vibrant from its initial piteous flicker should the clergyman find the resourcefulness to monitor him through it.
If not, he'll get confirmation of his hopes and fervent prayers for the alien's safety about half a week later, after the city is teleported one more time, when a familiar rumble resonates throughout the apartment. Should Carlisle hear it and enter the bedroom he'll see that the ice alien is finally waking, using the spikes that jut from his shoulders to clear away the Healing Ice encasing him. Now fully restored, it is time for Glacius to see to the world again-- and to the person who has saved him yet again.]
\o/
However, he stifled his panic, fighting to keep his concerns from overwhelming him. Glacius needed help, and it was his job to provide it both as clergy and as his Bondmate. What good was he if he couldn't do that much?
And so, the walls of the bedroom were painted with glyphs, this time to conjure as much snow and ice as possible, creating a frozen womb in which the alien could recuperate. It could be worse, Carlisle reminded himself ruefully as he helped his partner to the summoned, frosty bank he'd manifested with both of their energies through the Mote. Glacius could be dead. Yes, it could be worse.
Somehow, that didn't make him feel better at all, so he swallowed that down as well with a nervous smile and activated a second set of glyphs, ones to help bury his partner beneath the snow.
And then, Carlisle was alone. Though able to feel Glacius through the Mote within him, the alien's presence felt so much weaker that Carlisle feared he might not awaken ever again, and the icy encasement would become his tomb. The fear of that, of losing his beloved partner and failing him in the same breath, was plenty to keep Carlisle awake that first night. He waited by the ice, the blankets wrapped around him doing little to stave off the cold festering in his numb limbs.
Morning came, and though Glacius was still under the snow... the second day was better, albeit marginally. The connection to Glacius through the Mote felt stronger, bit by bit, and that was enough to give Carlisle a modicum of hope. He needed it, given how his body was quickly catching up with all the strain and stress he'd been under during the attack. Though he hadn't had to fend off the Null himself, his emergency healing duties had worn on him, and he spent the third day coughing up more ink than he liked. It filled the bathroom sink as it poured from him; he felt as though his chest might collapse if he coughed any more. Healing it would be counterproductive, unfortunately.
The third day also saw the world beyond the windows of the apartment change: they shifted once again, as it had when the gods created their illusionary cityscape. However, this world was far different and no illusion, and the changes only made Carlisle worry more for his absent partner, worry what would happen when he awakened.
Should he awaken. That was the thought Carlisle had taken with him as he struggled to sleep.
Thankfully, the fourth day brings Carlisle respite: that morning, he feels a familiar thrum through his chest, two hearts beating in tandem with his own. He peels himself off the floor of his closet and tears into the other bedroom, his eyes wide with desperate anticipation as a set of spikes clear away the icy shell. His hair is a mess, sticking up oddly on one side where he fell asleep on it, and his eyes look packed for an extended vacation; his hands are dry from all the scrubbing it took to get the ink out of the pristine bathroom... and yet Carlisle smiles just a little regardless, his heart that much lighter at the sight.]
Welcome back, my friend.
[More than that, but Glacius knows. Even if he didn't, he could surely feel the incredible relief Carlisle is feeling resonating freely through the Mote.]
lol i goofed this is actually on the 15th. 11th was initial return to the apartent
Thank you. It is good to be back, and I am sorry for the time I was away. Now... [Glacius casts a lopsided and utterly fond grin upon truly taking in Carlisle's disheveled appearance, particularly that messy which is normally so fastidiously kept; no doubt his absence has been hard on the human.] ... get over here and let us embrace. I have not been able to hold you properly since the onset of that sweeping conflict, and this is the first thing that I must set right.
[The relief he's feeling bleeding through every channel of their link is a good start, but the alien knows he can provide more directly... and besides, he's missed his partner as much as Carlisle has missed him. Glacius opens both his arms to the clergyman, significant given the wounds he had sustained during the war, which had left him with only one. The Healing Ice has left healthier and more full of life in every sense; even his icy shell seems healthier now, with greater thickness and luster. Nearly everything has been mended without a trace... save for a few key spots that Carlisle will probably recognize right away. Now more than ever, he has direct proof that his alien partner hadn't been lying when he'd chosen to keep the scars, be it where his right mandible once was, or where he'd had glyphs seared directly into his underbody from light.
Glacius' people don't often prescribe to wearing their history on their skin like this, but he'd never give up something that has proven to benefit Carlisle, and with the addition of the glyphs on his arm there are marks there that he too gets something from. The scars are now just like the time they have spent together growing closer: too important to erase in any capacity.]
Works for me!
Burning, heat, oh, that's right, he remembers after a moment, what respite he'd found fleeting. He will consider everything else -- the scars remaining, how he'd gotten into that shape in the first place, his concerns regarding them and Kate and the city in general -- later.]
Oh. Oh oh oh Glacius, now- now don't be alarmed, b- but things have- things have changed. Again. Outside.
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Still safely within the frozen sanctuary made of his room by Carlisle's intricate, carefully-crafted glyphs, Glacius has not yet noticed the oppressive heat outside. He tilts his head.] So... it was that bad in the end? I suppose it might have been the only way to be sure we lose the Null that have been tracking us, even if it may only be temporary. I don't suspect they will give up so easily, but... if we have some breathing room now... why do you still seem so nervous?
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[And there's Carlisle's hesitation. He knows how badly Glacius wanted to have a sky above him again, but what they have now might be... a bit much. And given the image of Glacius coming home, his icy shell melted away in many areas, is still fresh on Carlisle's mind, he's not eager to see that again.]
It's- it's that there's a lot of daylight. And heat.
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[... Oh. And there's the second bit.] -- more complicated than your initial statement lead me to believe. [He murmurs this out, his hopeful tone of voice quieting immediately.] You wouldn't be acting like this if there wasn't some problem. Just... how much heat are we dealing with, exactly?
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[He trembles, though whether it's from stress, from fear, from anxiety, from exhaustion, or some combination thereof, even he does not know.]
And- and I kn- know that you have your glyphs for this sort of- this sort of problem, but I would rather not risk you melting away, or- or injuring yourself f-f-further, and- and maybe you will look outside and say, "Ah, Carlisle, this is fine" and I'll h- have worried for days over n- nothing, but what if it's too much? What- what do we do if you are sequestered in here? You'd be so unhappy, and they- they need your help, I'm sure, and what can I do to possibly fix this?
[He remembers at some point to breathe, so he does that here.]
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And they aren't completely unfounded, either. His microweave can protect him from all sorts of varying temperatures, but the higher they climb the more stress it puts on the systems, and the more risk and unpleasantness there is inherent. Glacius can't imagine what he would do if he actually was to be sequestered in the apartment as Carlisle suggests; what a cruel twist of fate it would be, for him to end up being even more confined despite the time he spent in the cave yearning for sky and wide open spaces. His mandible clicks.] I... I don't know. If it helps, you have done a remarkable job already; the glyphs have rendered this room perfectly cold, as I can feel not even a trace of the heat outside.
But... [and here comes another issue.] ... It's not all on you, my partner, and having you alter the environment magically every day would put too much of a drain on your precious energy. Moreover, I cannot remain trapped inside like this for the rest of my days, as you have said... my body and soul would languish. We need more information first. What are the solar cycles like? You have said there is a night; is there time in addition to this when the heat is not so extreme?
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I- I-I-I don't know. I haven't- I mean, I stepped outside briefly, but I didn't want to- want to leave you for long, and when I did, it was- I—
[He does manage to keep himself from saying he spent most of the previous day hacking up ink and lying in the bathroom floor. He presses his palm into his eye, feeling sweat on his brow in spite of the frosty temperature of the room.]
I was- was preoccupied with other- with my thoughts, and what if I left you and something went wrong? Or I slept, and you vanished in my absence? Or the ice melted from within our- our home somehow, or the rabbit dug you out, or the constructs returned, or something else catastrophic occurred and there would be nothing I could do about it? I—
He stops, another breath in and out.] I don't know. I don't have the answers, and I... was afraid to go get them until you were beside me once more.
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