Alright, but that is—I mean, at least it is rickety in a better way than you have felt in the past. You are adjusting to life, not to approaching death; it is not instability because of fatigue or weakness, but because you are getting your feet back under you. [And that is... sort of endearing, if Glacius is being honest. It is almost like watching a young animal learning to take its first steps, given that life in general is probably a new feeling for Carlisle all over again.] Besides, some wobbliness is to be expected after waking up from a few days worth of sleep. You'll get better.
[This the alien assures his partner as he helps him get a grip on his arm, and then starts them both walking again. Thankfully the couch in the den is not far!] And yes, that does make sense... but what of me you have taken is now your own. Try not to think of it as some outside force pulling you along, some... other. It is your strength now. In time you will get used to calling on it again.
[Carlisle nods, allowing Glacius to support him as they make their way into the den, keeping his hand his partner's arm as he steadily finds his balance.]
I know I should be more concerned with the extended ramifications of this venture, but- but it's so strange now. I am a foreigner in my own skin. How novel it is to feel so alive when waking, something I have only felt recently when... er.
[He reddens just a pinch, knowing Glacius will understand. There were times when Carlisle would crave intimacy, desperate not only to be close with his partner, but also for the cycle of energy through himself, Glacius, and the Mote. The current was powerful enough to force the numbness from his limbs and the chill from his body; however, such a reprieve was temporary. It may be now, as well, but with his frame no longer an emptied, cavernous vessel, perhaps the effect will be even longer lasting. Perhaps even more euphoric than before, he considers.
And that thought makes him burn even worse, as does his impatience to find out. He will sooner accept this new life of his than he will his own appetence.]
[Glacius pauses, and though the words he speaks next might seem grim, he does not frown or seem ill at ease as he utters them. He knew the risks when he constructed the Siphon; he knew it was a sacrifice, and true to his word, it is one he is prepared to follow through on.] I think I can hazard a guess as to the ramifications; I will eventually dwindle as my life's essence is divided repeatedly between us, and when I have nothing left to give, then our times will come together. But that will not occur for some time—a great many years from now—and those years will be happier for our sharing. To give you the life that you deserve... a life where you can thrive, and not merely struggle to continue living... though it is natural to worry, I think that is worth any potential ramifications.
[And it truly speaks to Glacius' devotion, that he is able to talk about such a sacrifice so easily and simply. When most couples talk about giving all that they are for each other, they do not mean it so literally. Beyond possessions or a place to call home or emotional support—though he offers all of that as well—the alien has pledged the deep well of his very essence to his partner. His life is one lived in service now... and he only seems happier for it, given that it means he gets to keep his partner around.]
[Carlisle's blush fades as Glacius takes his mind away from their more intimate moments and to the reason they will be able to have any more in the first place. His partner puts so plainly, so matter-of-factly the long-term consequences of this venture: the maw within him will devour Glacius' energy through him, and eventually consume them both. A grisly end no matter what they did, and one that ends his partner's life as well as his own as his affliction curses them in tandem.
But Glacius doesn't seem bothered by this, and it speaks volumes of what his opinion is in the matter. He's absolutely right: they have years together now, surely more than he would have ever been afforded naturally. They are years the two of them will spend with one another, experiencing a life they could not have seen otherwise: one where Glacius keeps his partner, and one where Carlisle is alive. Moreover, Glacius chose this -- he chose to gift Carlisle his Mote, chose to build this Siphon, chose to surrender his energies bit by bit so that Carlisle could sustain himself on them. He may become a Revenant later, but for now, he exists as some kind of... aural vampire.
As much as Carlisle dislikes the comparison to any undead, figurative or not, he cannot help but be truly touched by his partner's dedication. Those years Glacius is giving up are ones he could have spent serving his people, making his mark upon the worlds with his life beyond his coupling with a mere human. And yet, when given a choice, agency in this awful place where it is so often stripped from them, he chose Carlisle.
The clergyman reddens again, but no longer from embarrassment as he fights back more tears in his eyes. One hand paws at them while the other seeks the comfort of his partner's touch, resting upon his broad, icy chest as they stop before the couch.]
What is it I have done with my life that has made me deserving of such a wonderful partner? Of someone as devoted to me as one may be to his goddess, or to his own people... or more?
[Glacius turns back towards Carlisle entirely now as he feels his partner reach for him; as he does, he sees the bleary-eyed expression that his partner is wearing, damp and flushed with emotion. The ice alien's face adopts a funny look in turn, as if he is surprised to see that much feeling, or perhaps confused that a human could feel such things for him. He simply did what he had always promised he would; he did what he feels would be expected of a good partner.
Glacius reaches out to ruffle those cinnamon locks, still mussy from long sleep, in a fond and reassuring way.] We have talked about this before, have we not? You have been a better friend and now partner than I could have ever hoped for; all the times I have needed you most, you have been right at my side. It is only fair that I return the favor—that I give you what you need, same as you have done for me.
[The otherworldly being pauses, then gives Carlisle one more pat before starting to walk them towards the den once more.] And that includes not letting you topple over due to malnourishment. Come, sit, and I will bring you some food and drink. Is there anything you want in particular?
[As inclined as Carlisle may be to argue over how he perceives himself as a partner -- as a work-in-progress, at best, and as someone who consistently needs to be shown his way around the ins and outs of companionship -- he lets it go. It's not that he's too tired for it, or even that he's too wrapped up in his new appearance, but rather that he just doesn't see the point in it at the moment. He has time, now. He can, for the first time, truly consider such things later rather than sooner. He is no longer shackled by the brevity of his lifespan, nor the drain of his affliction. He has years to ponder; his worries and insecurities can gorge themselves upon his nerves later.
It is so... unbelievably freeing, and he's not entirely sure how to handle it just yet. He turns his attention to Glacius' question as he takes a seat, hoping it will give him focus.]
Water. No, tea, please. Something mild to sate my stomach and keep it from turning inside-out. [He murmurs the rest quietly beneath his breath, his gaze resting on the curves of Glacius' abdomen.] And then, perhaps something else to ease the rest of me as I explore the limits of this renewed form.
Fortunately for you I already set the tea out; I need only to steep it. And... I think we should have some bread and preserves that I can dig out, though you really should try to eat something of more substance soon. A lean protein, perhaps...
[Glacius is muttering the last few bits of this as he wanders back into the kitchen, rubbing his tapering chin as he goes; he's so wrapped up in continually trying to provide for his partner that he misses whatever whispered musings Carlisle has to offer. Whatever respective desirous thought the ice alien might harbor are currently taking a back seat to making sure that needs are met, instead. He comes back one piercing kettle-whistle later, with a mug in one hand and a small plate of the promised toast in the other.]
If you'd please. [Glacius speaks calmly—more calmly than one might expect from a being of ice currently gripping hot ceramics—as he holds both dishes out to Carlisle. His eagerness and the tenseness in his hands, however, suggests he is bothered by the heat in some capacity.] These are rather warm.
[Carlisle takes the offered plate and mug, grateful to find he has the energy to do so -- his fingers remain a bit stiff and his hands a bit unsteady, but it's likely the effects of having only recently awakened from a long sleep rather than his body failing him. He sets the plate atop the coffee table, deciding he'd rather have a drink first. He's used to drinking just a bit greedily, the warmth slowly seeping into his limbs, if at all -- he finds almost immediately that, now that his senses are back to normal, he probably shouldn't do that anymore.
He pulls the mug from his lips quickly, wincing as he swallows.]
Desth, that burns!
[Despite that, he's... smiling.]
I'll- I'll have to adjust to that, as well, I see.
[Glacius' displays of surprise are minimal as always, though they are there: his mandible flares slightly and his shoulder hikes up as Carlisle exclaims while drinking down his tea in the same manner that he always has. Then it catches up to him just why that happened this time; with the restoration of the human's body also comes the full return of his senses and faculties. It makes sense... but the ice alien can't help the smile that tweaks at his features, cannot keep it from growing wider and winder until his cheekbones have lifted to push wrinkles around his eyes in that familiar way that happens when he is really, truly pleased by something.
Then the quiet laughter comes. Glacius is not sure why it is this one seemingly insignificant little show of change that has finally broken through the dam of his worried attentiveness, allowing his genuine relief and happiness to flow like a river he can do nothing to stem. Maybe the other changes were so shocking it has taken them some time to truly sink in, too good to be true as they had seemed; maybe it's just that a minor burn is currently the worst of his once dying partner's concerns now. Or maybe it is a lot of things, all falling away to afford them this singular moment of hope, of a life renewed.
Whatever the case is, Glacius finally flops heavily on the couch next to Carlisle, too relieved to keep himself upright anymore; his hands curl into fists at his knees to keep himself from slinging an arm around his partner while he's holding hot food and drink.] There's... going to be a lot to adjust to. [And he cannot help but chortle again; the heavy blinks of his eyes suggest that if he shed tears like a human, he'd have to be wiping them away now.] The biggest one being that I no longer have to worry about you being taken from me prematurely. I cannot believe... I mean... I am so happy, Carlisle. I cannot fully describe to you the joy I am feeling.
[He's given pause by Glacius' laughter; though no to kindness, outright laughter is not something often heard from the stoic warrior, a true rarity. As Glacius settles beside him, Carlisle finds himself grinning widely, watching as his partner's sizable hands curl atop his muscular legs, the dips and valleys of them more enticing than Carlisle would like to admit. Feeling his stomach grind again, he sets his mug aside, cramming toast into his mouth -- perhaps he should use more caution after the tea, but he wants to get it down quickly to sate his complaining abdomen. He has other pursuits in mind, more he wants to experience with his renewed vigor -- and with such indulgences, Carlisle has never had the best restraint, particularly when it comes to Glacius.
His life has been one largely of denial. He didn't deserve such things, he'd said so often; he was just asking for more misfortune for both himself and those around him. It was better to deny himself companionship than to tempt fate. Besides, he could not lose what he'd never had in the first place.
Things are different now -- so, so different. With his food and drink aside, he brushes some crumbs away and turns his full attention to his partner.]
Neither can I. Everything I feel is so... intense at the moment. Light and color and incredible sensation in what has been an increasingly numb existence. I- I could hardly feel myself these past few days. Not- not days while recovering, obviously, but before. I was keeping busy out of habit, merely moving due to routine rather than truly living. I was already a shell, hollow. It was only through fear that I felt alive, even with you.
[He never told Glacius, but deep down, he knows his partner knew. Carlisle knows he's been needy as of late, calling Glacius home, wanting him to stay in the mornings rather than go on patrol; however, no matter how tenaciously the clergyman clung to life, it still ebbed from his mortal frame day by day, what color he had in his hair and skin fading along with it.
It's all back now, but for how long? He doesn't know -- but he doesn't want to waste what time he has been given, either.]
It will take time to adjust, but now we take comfort in that we can. There is time now, and- and I want nothing more than to spend it with you.
[He places his hand on Glacius', his fingers curling across his icy knuckles. His voice is barely a whisper, despite them being alone.]
I want... I want to explore all of these things with you, Glacius. This joy, and this apprehension, hope and- and uncertainty about our future. But most of all, this hammering in my chest the closer I am to you. Has it always been like that? Have I always felt as though my heart would explode when I am near you? Have I just never noticed it before? Or had I simply forgotten what it felt like?
I think you have just managed to forget. [Glacius replies with a light chuckle, remembering a few times back when Carlisle had talked in a similar manner, back before... his condition had stolen away his feelings of hope and joy, replacing them only with fear as he has just described. Now, however, with the human's hand curling over his sturdy knuckles without so much as a tremble, it somehow feels like they've been transported back in time to the earliest days of their relationship; when everything was happier, new and exciting, with so many things waiting to be explored.
The ice alien lowers his head ever so slightly so that he can stare quietly into his partner's eyes. Then, letting the feelings of the moment guide him, he leans in for a gentle eskimo kiss, nuzzling the cold and glossy curve of his nasal cap against the bridge of Carlisle's nose. He is fairly certain he's reading an invitation there; in the choice of words, and in the subtle, stolen glances.] ... I could... likely make it beat a bit harder still... if that is what you desire. If you would allow me a moment to be terribly forward, I-I have to admit that my own hearts race to think what it might be like to experience such a thing now that you are restored.
[Carlisle turns his head in anticipation of Glacius' embrace, pushing his glasses aside, allowing the dip at his brow to be filled with the soft curve of his partner's nasal cap. It was indeed an invitation on Carlisle's end, one he is ready to make good on now that his stomach has stopped griping. He slides his hand onto Glacius' thigh, using the leverage it gives him to lean further -- more emphatically -- against his lover's face.]
You never need ask for a moment to be forward, Glacius. I would never dream of denying you — us — such a request... such desires.
[His arm trembles from holding him up; he holds onto his partner as he straddles Glacius' lap, not breaking contact with him for even a second. He's not sure he could even if he wanted to, the steady throbbing of his heart and the hum of the Mote within him fueling his curiosity and impulses in equal measure.]
Never? You have dreamed of it before... [But Glacius does not even have the time to chuckle fondly at the notion of how far Carlisle has come with expressing himself and his own desires, as the clergyman swings up to straddle his lap and leans heavily against him. Instead the alien wraps his powerful arms around his partner and gives him a solid, firm hug... then swings both of them up onto the couch and flops forward so that he is on top of the human, ever careful with his weight and the spikes that just from his rib and sternum.
Glacius cannot express enough in words how much he's looking forward to being able to spend a true life together, not one fated to be cut short, so he will try to express it physically instead. Knowing that there's nothing holding them back physically or emotionally—no exhaustion, fatigue, fear, or sorrow—is intoxicating in its own right; it gives them both plenty of time to fawn as they explore Carlisle's new limits, though if the human ends up as exhausted as when he first woke, well... Glacius wouldn't mind that one bit.]
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[This the alien assures his partner as he helps him get a grip on his arm, and then starts them both walking again. Thankfully the couch in the den is not far!] And yes, that does make sense... but what of me you have taken is now your own. Try not to think of it as some outside force pulling you along, some... other. It is your strength now. In time you will get used to calling on it again.
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I know I should be more concerned with the extended ramifications of this venture, but- but it's so strange now. I am a foreigner in my own skin. How novel it is to feel so alive when waking, something I have only felt recently when... er.
[He reddens just a pinch, knowing Glacius will understand. There were times when Carlisle would crave intimacy, desperate not only to be close with his partner, but also for the cycle of energy through himself, Glacius, and the Mote. The current was powerful enough to force the numbness from his limbs and the chill from his body; however, such a reprieve was temporary. It may be now, as well, but with his frame no longer an emptied, cavernous vessel, perhaps the effect will be even longer lasting. Perhaps even more euphoric than before, he considers.
And that thought makes him burn even worse, as does his impatience to find out. He will sooner accept this new life of his than he will his own appetence.]
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[And it truly speaks to Glacius' devotion, that he is able to talk about such a sacrifice so easily and simply. When most couples talk about giving all that they are for each other, they do not mean it so literally. Beyond possessions or a place to call home or emotional support—though he offers all of that as well—the alien has pledged the deep well of his very essence to his partner. His life is one lived in service now... and he only seems happier for it, given that it means he gets to keep his partner around.]
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But Glacius doesn't seem bothered by this, and it speaks volumes of what his opinion is in the matter. He's absolutely right: they have years together now, surely more than he would have ever been afforded naturally. They are years the two of them will spend with one another, experiencing a life they could not have seen otherwise: one where Glacius keeps his partner, and one where Carlisle is alive. Moreover, Glacius chose this -- he chose to gift Carlisle his Mote, chose to build this Siphon, chose to surrender his energies bit by bit so that Carlisle could sustain himself on them. He may become a Revenant later, but for now, he exists as some kind of... aural vampire.
As much as Carlisle dislikes the comparison to any undead, figurative or not, he cannot help but be truly touched by his partner's dedication. Those years Glacius is giving up are ones he could have spent serving his people, making his mark upon the worlds with his life beyond his coupling with a mere human. And yet, when given a choice, agency in this awful place where it is so often stripped from them, he chose Carlisle.
The clergyman reddens again, but no longer from embarrassment as he fights back more tears in his eyes. One hand paws at them while the other seeks the comfort of his partner's touch, resting upon his broad, icy chest as they stop before the couch.]
What is it I have done with my life that has made me deserving of such a wonderful partner? Of someone as devoted to me as one may be to his goddess, or to his own people... or more?
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Glacius reaches out to ruffle those cinnamon locks, still mussy from long sleep, in a fond and reassuring way.] We have talked about this before, have we not? You have been a better friend and now partner than I could have ever hoped for; all the times I have needed you most, you have been right at my side. It is only fair that I return the favor—that I give you what you need, same as you have done for me.
[The otherworldly being pauses, then gives Carlisle one more pat before starting to walk them towards the den once more.] And that includes not letting you topple over due to malnourishment. Come, sit, and I will bring you some food and drink. Is there anything you want in particular?
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It is so... unbelievably freeing, and he's not entirely sure how to handle it just yet. He turns his attention to Glacius' question as he takes a seat, hoping it will give him focus.]
Water. No, tea, please. Something mild to sate my stomach and keep it from turning inside-out. [He murmurs the rest quietly beneath his breath, his gaze resting on the curves of Glacius' abdomen.] And then, perhaps something else to ease the rest of me as I explore the limits of this renewed form.
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[Glacius is muttering the last few bits of this as he wanders back into the kitchen, rubbing his tapering chin as he goes; he's so wrapped up in continually trying to provide for his partner that he misses whatever whispered musings Carlisle has to offer. Whatever respective desirous thought the ice alien might harbor are currently taking a back seat to making sure that needs are met, instead. He comes back one piercing kettle-whistle later, with a mug in one hand and a small plate of the promised toast in the other.]
If you'd please. [Glacius speaks calmly—more calmly than one might expect from a being of ice currently gripping hot ceramics—as he holds both dishes out to Carlisle. His eagerness and the tenseness in his hands, however, suggests he is bothered by the heat in some capacity.] These are rather warm.
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[Carlisle takes the offered plate and mug, grateful to find he has the energy to do so -- his fingers remain a bit stiff and his hands a bit unsteady, but it's likely the effects of having only recently awakened from a long sleep rather than his body failing him. He sets the plate atop the coffee table, deciding he'd rather have a drink first. He's used to drinking just a bit greedily, the warmth slowly seeping into his limbs, if at all -- he finds almost immediately that, now that his senses are back to normal, he probably shouldn't do that anymore.
He pulls the mug from his lips quickly, wincing as he swallows.]
Desth, that burns!
[Despite that, he's... smiling.]
I'll- I'll have to adjust to that, as well, I see.
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Then the quiet laughter comes. Glacius is not sure why it is this one seemingly insignificant little show of change that has finally broken through the dam of his worried attentiveness, allowing his genuine relief and happiness to flow like a river he can do nothing to stem. Maybe the other changes were so shocking it has taken them some time to truly sink in, too good to be true as they had seemed; maybe it's just that a minor burn is currently the worst of his once dying partner's concerns now. Or maybe it is a lot of things, all falling away to afford them this singular moment of hope, of a life renewed.
Whatever the case is, Glacius finally flops heavily on the couch next to Carlisle, too relieved to keep himself upright anymore; his hands curl into fists at his knees to keep himself from slinging an arm around his partner while he's holding hot food and drink.] There's... going to be a lot to adjust to. [And he cannot help but chortle again; the heavy blinks of his eyes suggest that if he shed tears like a human, he'd have to be wiping them away now.] The biggest one being that I no longer have to worry about you being taken from me prematurely. I cannot believe... I mean... I am so happy, Carlisle. I cannot fully describe to you the joy I am feeling.
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His life has been one largely of denial. He didn't deserve such things, he'd said so often; he was just asking for more misfortune for both himself and those around him. It was better to deny himself companionship than to tempt fate. Besides, he could not lose what he'd never had in the first place.
Things are different now -- so, so different. With his food and drink aside, he brushes some crumbs away and turns his full attention to his partner.]
Neither can I. Everything I feel is so... intense at the moment. Light and color and incredible sensation in what has been an increasingly numb existence. I- I could hardly feel myself these past few days. Not- not days while recovering, obviously, but before. I was keeping busy out of habit, merely moving due to routine rather than truly living. I was already a shell, hollow. It was only through fear that I felt alive, even with you.
[He never told Glacius, but deep down, he knows his partner knew. Carlisle knows he's been needy as of late, calling Glacius home, wanting him to stay in the mornings rather than go on patrol; however, no matter how tenaciously the clergyman clung to life, it still ebbed from his mortal frame day by day, what color he had in his hair and skin fading along with it.
It's all back now, but for how long? He doesn't know -- but he doesn't want to waste what time he has been given, either.]
It will take time to adjust, but now we take comfort in that we can. There is time now, and- and I want nothing more than to spend it with you.
[He places his hand on Glacius', his fingers curling across his icy knuckles. His voice is barely a whisper, despite them being alone.]
I want... I want to explore all of these things with you, Glacius. This joy, and this apprehension, hope and- and uncertainty about our future. But most of all, this hammering in my chest the closer I am to you. Has it always been like that? Have I always felt as though my heart would explode when I am near you? Have I just never noticed it before? Or had I simply forgotten what it felt like?
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The ice alien lowers his head ever so slightly so that he can stare quietly into his partner's eyes. Then, letting the feelings of the moment guide him, he leans in for a gentle eskimo kiss, nuzzling the cold and glossy curve of his nasal cap against the bridge of Carlisle's nose. He is fairly certain he's reading an invitation there; in the choice of words, and in the subtle, stolen glances.] ... I could... likely make it beat a bit harder still... if that is what you desire. If you would allow me a moment to be terribly forward, I-I have to admit that my own hearts race to think what it might be like to experience such a thing now that you are restored.
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You never need ask for a moment to be forward, Glacius. I would never dream of denying you — us — such a request... such desires.
[His arm trembles from holding him up; he holds onto his partner as he straddles Glacius' lap, not breaking contact with him for even a second. He's not sure he could even if he wanted to, the steady throbbing of his heart and the hum of the Mote within him fueling his curiosity and impulses in equal measure.]
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Glacius cannot express enough in words how much he's looking forward to being able to spend a true life together, not one fated to be cut short, so he will try to express it physically instead. Knowing that there's nothing holding them back physically or emotionally—no exhaustion, fatigue, fear, or sorrow—is intoxicating in its own right; it gives them both plenty of time to fawn as they explore Carlisle's new limits, though if the human ends up as exhausted as when he first woke, well... Glacius wouldn't mind that one bit.]