[Though relieved to hear he's picking up on all this quickly enough, Carlisle is puzzled as Glacius continues, as the alien moves his hand from those tendons and hollows to one of the spikes atop curved head. He's then confused by the instructions, by what Glacius means or even intends to do. It all becomes abundantly clear as he moves lower, the alien's head gracing Carlisle's abdomen and the scars that rake across his middle. He's returning the gesture Carlisle himself does so often when taking in the ruined portion of his face, the tarnished surface where his other mandible used to be -- Glacius is showing that those scars do not ruin him or mark him as a monster, but make him who he is all the same. He accepts them along with everything else, as he always has.
Carlisle isn't so sure about this, but finds it easy enough to comply as Glacius nestles against his stomach and the skin that lies there. This scars have always been sensitive, both figuratively and literally -- not only does he find talking about them to be a touchy subject, but they tend to ache when he expels beyond a certain threshold of energy, reminding him of what he is, of a failure that defined the rest of his life. Even now, he picks up on every touch of Glacius' mandible against him, every caress the alien gives his body. The pressure is perceptible as Carlisle leans further back against the couch, bracing himself on it as he struggles to cope with sensations that are new, frightening, overwhelming... and desirable all at once.
With his face so close, the alien can no doubt hear the breath Carlisle pulls in, one that tightens his middle. Though he seems to be trying to stifle it, a quiet groan escapes him, yet he doesn't pull at Glacius' spike to stop him. Meanwhile, his other hand trails up the side of the alien's face and finally departs, returning to the floor to give him some support.
His voice is hushed as he finally manages some words.]
[Glacius is glad for the clarification, as he wasn't entirely sure whether or not the clergyman's suddenly sucked-in breath and tensing up was a sign of discomfort, or of unexpected pleasure. When he feels no tugging at his horn and hears that murmur of approval he nods, unable to help the more fervent roll of purring that breaks up out of his throat--he's all too pleased at the reactions now that he knows they're good ones, feeling a sort of power that he can get the skittish and uncertain human to feel something good enough to groan about.
He'd like to see if he can give him even more, at least as long as Carlisle is up to continue. The ice alien purrs again, moving on to kiss across the second scar as he tugs the clergyman's hips forward--and in the mean time he moves down onto his knees, bending his legs to put him low, the easier to trail his mandibles over the marks further down. Meanwhile the pads of his big thumbs roll slowly over his partner's hipbones, meant to be soothing and encouraging; the rest of his fingers stay locked in place, the better to help brace the clergyman if he bucks suddenly. When Glacius speaks up next his voice is a heavy, husky rumble, moved by physical sensations he hasn't felt in the longest time... but even more so by emotional ones that he doesn't think he's ever felt before.] Thank you for... letting me do this... I wouldn't change a thing about you, Carlisle. I want you to know it. [And with that he's moving on to the lowermost scar, his mandibles tracing lines just above his partner's hips.]
[Carlisle lets the alien maneuver him, his hand reflexively going from the horn atop Glacius' head to the edge of the couch as he tries to brace himself, the rumble of Glacius' hum as moving as the hands at his waist. Glacius may be dealing with physical sensations he hasn't felt in a long time, but Carlisle is quickly being consumed by ones that are entirely unfamiliar, as well as ones he is used to suddenly being seen in a new light. The steady tremors from the alien's satisfied purrs cut through his body, reverberating from his middle and into his chest, reaching up toward his neck and down to his toes. His body reacts with trembling of its own, shivers running through him as Glacius draws his mandible over his scars once more. They are so horrifyingly sensitive most times, yet this feels impossibly good.
Too good, perhaps. He's not home, but he's not allowed such things for a reason, his insecurities call from the back of his mind. Such bliss isn't afforded to the twice-cursed.
He finally speaks again, and it's more than before as he tries to shut down his uncertainty by drowning it out with words. It's a response Glacius has no doubt seen more than few times during their tenure as roommates, though his winding sentences weren't usually punctuated by labored breaths in the past.]
I cannot help but- but question your judgment at- at times, Glacius, as I can think of- plenty that- that I would- about- about myself—
[And he has to stop. Though he's doing his best to overthink the situation (an everyday habit he has yet to break), he's finding it increasingly difficult as another groan pushes itself out of him, the hand he brings to his mouth arriving far too late to stifle it. His head tilts back on its own; his face feels as though it's on fire. Is that healthy? That can't be healthy.]
[That groan is powerfully intoxicating--the way it pushes itself up out of the clergyman's throat, all the reservations in the world not enough to stifle the pleasure in the sound. Glacius huffs out a more heated snarl just then, his hands tightening slightly as he just barely reigns in his desire to bury his face against Carlisle's abdomen and kiss more adamantly--making good on his promise not to actually scratch his partner. Instead he casts a look up, his green eyes intent, the glow of them seeming lit by passion.] Here's a funny notion--I can't think of a single thing that I've wanted for my life as it is in this cave. Granted I want my friends to be safe and protected--that's a want for all of you, not for myself. Everything else... I've more or less just been existing until I can somehow let us all escape. But now, I do find myself desiring something... I want this. I want you, Carlisle.
[Despite himself his hands slip up, slightly, his bare fingertips just barely slipping underneath the waistband of the clergyman's pants so that he can roll his thumbs directly over his partner's hips. Though at this point he could gladly let his hands inward, he doesn't, but rather lingers here--certainly not one to go any further with such intimate contact without consent.] Not some other person that you could have been, were things different at some point in your life; not some perfectly-trimmed version of yourself that you might see where you magically cut away your flaws or your trepidations. You. I want to be here for you when you are at your lowest, and I want to celebrate with you when you are feeling your best--I want to help you feel your best, if I am allowed.
[True to his nature, Glacius is gentle, but undeterred by Carlisle's hesitation, waiting only to see if he has permission to continue before doing so; he is otherwise unafraid of what he feels, and what it is he causes Carlisle to feel, so long as they are sharing that moment. The pressure against the clergyman's hips, fingers gliding so carefully along his bare skin, are enough to drive him nearly mad.
He'll be more flattered with what Glacius is saying to him when he can actually process it.] Will take- you up on that, but—
[He can't think through the heavy breathing and how hot he feels, his head starting to pound, his hands shaking. Tension has crept back into his muscles with the sudden onset of unfamiliar arousal, and his attempts to rein it in have met with only limited success. Even now, his hand still grips the couch cushion, curled tightly around it as though it'd hold him afloat in the flood of stimulation he's received.]
Ah- another time, perhaps. I don't- I don't feel well. I mean, I feel well, but too well? If that makes- makes sense. It's not you. It's- it's not you.
[Glacius tilts his head when Carlisle states that he isn't feeling well, a brief flash of worry hitting him... but then as he takes in the clergyman's flushed skin and labored breathing, the way his chest practically heaves with each heavy pant, it clicks and he gives a smug little chuckle. A part of him is disappointed, of course, having been completely enraptured with the sounds and the reactions of his partner's body, with the way the artificial starlight shone down on them... but there's a greater part of him that doesn't mind waiting, that wants Carlisle to be completely comfortable and sure of the time. They'll decide it together, as they've done so many other things.
He graces his partner's abdomen with one last kiss, then pulls his face and hands away from the clergyman's skin completely; the big alien flops down on his side right next to the human, his own breaths still evening out, themselves.] Of course, my friend--I was very much enjoying myself, but as I said, I just want you to be comfortable. Thank you for letting me get that close to you... I know it probably seemed rather sudden, but I... just wanted you to know that I embrace all that you are. And I always will.
[Carlisle sighs as Glacius pulls away, glad that the alien doesn't seem too terribly disappointment in his performance (or lack thereof, rather). It takes him a minute to find his composure, his heart still racing as his partner rests beside him.]
I've- I've never had anyone that close to me. In any, ah. Capacity.
I should hope that doesn't change from here on out. Don't go developing a crazed licentious streak, alright? [The alien jokes, reaching out to put a hand on Carlisle's knee--given all the feeling behind the night, he's unable to keep from touching the clergyman, but he's trying to do it in an innocuous enough spot so that he can keep settling back down.]
In any case, I'm very glad that you enjoyed your my introduction to this sort of thing. Thank you for... arranging this night, Carlisle. It turned out to be more than I could have ever anticipated.
[Though the light is dim, Carlisle is positive Glacius can see him burning; if he can't, surely he must feel the heat radiating off his face. At least the thundering in his chest is starting to slow, but with that comes the reminder that he's got other aches to deal with.
He slides his hand over Glacius' as he smiles at the alien.]
Thank you for your patience. You are... always patient with me, in this and in all things. It's something I cannot thank you enough for.
You are more than welcome, Carlisle. [The alien nods, his smile calmer now than the heated gaze it had been before, but not less fond--especially not when he feels the human's hand rest over his own.] I am glad that it is appreciated. Patience is something that is always valuable; I have developed it my whole life, and am glad to share it with you now. After all, a safe and encouraging space in which to learn can make all the difference, can't it?
[Glacius' fervent passion had been more than Carlisle was expecting all at once, but so long as he can take it step by step, he feels more confident with this whole... relationship business. Perhaps Emily's glyph had more power than he'd thought it would.]
I admit that I, too, did not anticipate for things to go like this. I'd thought you might appreciate a reminder of home with the glyph, and perhaps someone to share it with. I didn't, um. Didn't think you'd be so, ah. Forthcoming with how you felt. Or even think that you did feel that way. I wasn't even sure I felt that way, or could feel that way.
[Glacius only thinks about it for a moment, but a brief cough keeps him from responding until well after he's formulated the response in his head; his spare hand rubs at the base of his throat, near those still-deteriorating gills.] I did appreciate both of those things, Carlisle, make no mistake. The appreciation that I felt for what you have done here was part of what bolstered me to come out and ask. As for the other parts of that motivation... well... I had some nudges in the right direction. When you have a strong enough dosage of medicine in you, you're about as forthcoming as I am. It was a nice change of pace... endearing, even, to hear you be so open.
[The alien shoots his partner a fond grin, then goes a little more somber.] Though it still... took me some time to work up the courage to actually ask you about what you said that night. After what your double said... I, ah. I wasn't sure if you could feel that way, at least not for a creature like me... wasn't sure if you would want to even if you could. So... this has been, uh... quite the relief. [Glacius attempts for a slight chuckle here, trying to keep himself from drifting too close to those awful memories, the way the false Carlisle's words had cut like a hot blade straight through his armor down into his heart.]
[Though Carlisle eyes those gills at that cough, his worry rising, he's almost more concerned about his conduct when he's had heavy doses of the bond of Ulbrech. He's doesn't get intoxicated often, whether from the drink or enchanted drugs, but he knows his behavior can be unbecoming when he does. At least it helped him this time, apparently... in a way.
His fingers tighten slightly around Glacius' hand.]
You are not a creature, Glacius. No more than I. And that phantom wearing my face was no more me than yours was you.
[His face falls just a hair in the darkness; no, Glacius' double was far more like another alien he knew.]
[Glacius appreciates the unspoken physical gesture of support nearly as much as he appreciates Carlisle denouncing his double. Given that he's watching his partner's face intently, and that his glowing green eyes allow him to see perfectly well in the darkness, he can see the way his expressions flickers with... something. Sadness? Hurt? He's not sure, he just knows it isn't good. And then a though occurs to him, one that realizes he should have had a damn long time ago, probably would have had if he hadn't been so preoccupied with the clergyman nearly up and dying on him:]
He said something to you before I came in, didn't he? He wasn't just lurking and hiding... you conversed. You must have. [And if Carlisle's double had delighting in tearing him down, he can only imagine how damaging his double had intended to be.]
[And with those same glowing, green eyes, Glacius can surely see the uncertainly that colors the clergyman, despite the lingering redness in his cheeks and nose. There is indeed sadness there, as well as guilt -- it's always guilt.]
He wasn't you.
[From the sound of it, Carlisle's double had simply tried to ruin his life; however, Glacius' wanted to replace him. The things he say, and the way he said them—
He shakes his head, pulling Glacius' hand into his lap to wrap his other hand around it.]
[This is... alarming. It's different from the reaction he'd been expecting, though Glacius can't place exactly how. Carlisle isn't being particularly forthcoming either, seeming caught up in his painful reminisce over the encounter, which leaves the alien to scrounge in the dark and formulate a response based on mostly guesswork.] No, he wasn't. He was just a thing made by the gods, made to suffer and to cause suffering. I promise you that whatever it is head said to you--about you, or us--it was a lie. I care deeply about you and treasure our relationship... I could never think ill of you.
[That answer is immediate, no hesitation at all. What the double had said was troubling, but more so was how he said it, and how he felt. He wasn't just a thing setting out to ruin his counterpart's life, as his own double had done -- the other Glacius had seemed genuinely hurt by the thought Carlisle would betray him.
Just like him.]
The other me came right here, threatened to control you, making you take your own life right in front of me before leaving me to die. The other you, though... he didn't seem to want to hurt me. More like he wanted to take your place in both this city and with me.
[Glacius' expression is tinted with confusion by Carlisle's immediate response. He--he knows? Then what is bothering him... thankfully the clergyman actually goes on and explains himself now. While the ice alien is glad that his double hadn't attempted to harm his friend and partner physically, he's not exactly sure what to do with this new knowledge.] I... see. And you didn't let him, of course. [Thank the Makers Carlisle didn't let him-- not that Glacius really had any doubts in that regards, but still.] That was the point I'm guessing he decided to try and take matters into his own hands, then..? You didn't do anything wrong, Carlisle... so what about this is so troubling to you..?
[Carlisle's gaze remains on Glacius another moment before it hits the floor. This is such a somber topic for a night that had been going so well, but something that has been weighing greatly on Carlisle during his recovery. It's just a hunch, an inkling born of something he suspects rather than truly knows; he has no real proof -- and likely never will -- of what it is he believes, of who it was he was speaking to that day. He was Glacius' double, yes, but what he said was so hauntingly familiar, both the pain in his voice and his choice of words.
Had it been merely a coincidence? Was it circumstance that the two aliens, Algidus and Glacius, sounded so alike? That the look in their eyes could, at times, be indistinguishable from one another? Where was it Algidus had come from before he was thrust into the jungle? How had he come to be?]
He didn't want to be erased from this existence, but... he couldn't exist as long as you were still around. He wanted what you had... what he thought you had stolen from him. Some of what he said -- it was so like him.
[His eyes travel upward to the illusionary stars; they are cloudy already. What an awful life he must have had to have become the way he was; in the end, he believed Carlisle to have betrayed him as much as any other.]
[This is more or less news to Glacius. He'd known that the other ice alien had wanted to kill him for some reason, though Carlisle had been too stricken by grief and guilt and inner conflict to really enunciate why--all the clergyman had mentioned was his mission, and a human, and then the conversation had gone on a different track. Another piece of the puzzle has been put together, but he's not sure it's a piece he wanted... clearly the same can be said for his friend, who already seems to have put it together.]
Like your friend..? [Glacius ventures softly, watching the way Carlisle looks up at the sky--his expression so forlorn, his eyes shining with sadness in the starlight.] Like... Algidus? You think he was... based on me, somehow? [The ice alien pauses, really not sure what to think about that. On the one hand, it made a lot of sense why they were able to come together and forge such a strong friendship in this world; Glacius thought it was simply because Carlisle had experience with his species, but what if it was something more personal than that? It was oddly touching, another instance of that sort of solidarity they'd been building up, to know that no matter what world they ended up in, they would always be friends-- while Algidus' aggression and frequent lack of compassion was a direct point against that. From the sounds of things, the other ice alien had been tortured and angry and not all that kind at times... but Carlisle clearly still cared a great deal for him, clearly valued their friendship deeply.
It was all a lot to take in, and if the pale ice alien could barely manage to sort those feelings out in his head then he could only imagine how the clergyman must have been dealing with it. It explains a whole hell of a lot of why he'd been drinking so much so often-- clearly it had been bothering him for a damn long time. Glacius wasn't even remotely sure what to say, so instead he opted to remain silent for now, pulling himself up so that he could sit properly next to Carlisle and loop an arm tightly around him in a supporting, comforting embrace. No matter what happened between them of another world, he was going to be here for him. He wouldn't let anything tear them apart... they'd come too far.]
I don't know. [He paws at this eyes as Glacius pulls his arm around him, his touch cold on Carlisle's still-bare skin.] I- I can't ever know for sure, but the way he said some things, and the hurt in his voice... I thought, perhaps, some of how he was was simply intrinsic to your people. You two are... so different.
[And that's for the best, especially with how things are now, what they have between them.]
But this other you with your memories and feelings -- what he said was so like Algidus. They were things he had said. Reactions, little tells here and there. Behaviors the two of you shared. I even thought you might be him when we first met. If—
[He swallows, trying to keep the quiet panic rising in this voice as his nerves make his stomach churn. The stars don't help him, the vastness of even illusionary ones making him feel small.]
If he'd found you, would he have truly tried to take your place in this city? With all these worlds and times, if there is another you out there, is there another me?
[Glacius listens dutifully, rubbing at Carlisle's shoulder comfortingly as he speaks--though the arm slung across his back is undeniably chilly, at least he retracted the ice from his hands long ago, so they should not be all that cold.] I, unfortunately, cannot say for certain either... I never met him. As for the questions of other, ah... versions of ourselves... that is also something I have little experience with. My people have the ability to fold space, to hop between worlds in the blink of an eye, but it never results in duplicates, discontinuities in time or reality...
[Glacius coughs, quietly, rubbing at the base of this throat again with his spare hand. He felt better than he ever had with his neck underneath Carlisle's hands, but now that it's been some time, soreness and pain is starting to settle back in.] A-and I have to admit that I... don't know how I feel about any version of myself, duplicate or otherwise, coming to harbor the sort of anger and resentment that you have mentioned in both Algidus and my duplicate. I remember times in this cave when I felt so embittered and angry over the hands that me or my friends had been dealt, and I remember harboring such resentment in this cave for the humans and their often brutal ways... all that suffering and death. But every time I began to get dragged down, be it by bitterness or resentment or despair, I had... all of you.
[Glacius heaves a mighty sigh now, feeling like he's beginning to put things together a bit more now. He wanted what you had.] All of my friends, to tend to my wounds and support me until I could begin to pick myself back up. What if I... had all of that taken from me, through no fault of my own? What would be left for me, save for my soul to fester? I'm... I'm not sure I can say. [But he doesn't believe it's too much of a stretch to think that Carlisle might have seen an example or two of that wretched, sorrowful, utterly lonely fate.]
[The thought of Algidus suffering, his soul festering until it became something else entirely, just seems to upset Carlisle more. He rubs at his eyes again; he should be stronger than this, he reminds himself. What an embarrassment, to be so despondent over someone who was only arguably his friend.
Yet he can't help himself as he remembers their last meeting, how he wronged Algidus one last time. He failed again, the alien's last impression of him being one of betrayal. It wasn't his fault, but he feels like a colossal failure all the same. The twice-cursed aren't allowed such things for a reason. Perhaps he should remember that.]
I don't want—
[He doesn't want to think about this, neither of his own, self-destructive thoughts, nor of Algidus' trauma, of what could turn someone as kind and patient as Glacius into something as embittered as the green alien had been. What if it happened again? What if Glacius' last memories of Carlisle became that of betrayal someday?
He curls inward, and leans closer to Glacius, lets more of the alien's arm shield him, as though it'd protect him from his own thoughts.]
I don't want to know. It answers so many questions, but so many more are born from them, ones that shake me to my core.
[Glacius can't say he blames Carlisle there. He certainly didn't mean to get them on this track after how well everything had been going not all that long ago, but he believes that it is good that they had this talk. The clergyman is the type of person to carry a lot of things with him and attempt to gloss over them, rather than admitting to himself how much they bother him--let alone anyone else. To be afforded a glimpse into his mind and to know what might be wearing him down is invaluable to the alien who only wants to relieve him of his burdens.
So he turns towards his partner, the better to allow him to shelter up against him, and loops his other arm around him now.] We--we don't have to figure it out. You have me, that's what matters. And--look on the bright side, as you humans say. You've been taken between a couple of different worlds now and you're still yourself! That... has to count for something, right? Consistency can be comforting.
[Carlisle stiffens as Glacius' other arm comes around him; he is still not entirely used to the feeling of a full embrace, but he can't deny that it feels good in that moment -- he's safe for now. He's here. There isn't anything to be done for Algidus, not unless he's unfortunate enough to return to Hadriel, but...
He cannot worry about that right now, Carlisle insists to himself as he rests his head against Glacius' shoulder. Algidus would berate him for being weak -- berate them both, probably -- but perhaps he said such things because he was, himself, afraid of being alone. Knowing Glacius and how lonely he has felt at times, it's not too far of a stretch.
It's hard to let go of the defeat he feels when thinking of Algidus, but Carlisle knows he must try, at least for now.]
It can be. I do hope to not be taken to any more worlds at this point. I'm not sure the Glacius...es of them, should they exist, could ever compare to you.
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Carlisle isn't so sure about this, but finds it easy enough to comply as Glacius nestles against his stomach and the skin that lies there. This scars have always been sensitive, both figuratively and literally -- not only does he find talking about them to be a touchy subject, but they tend to ache when he expels beyond a certain threshold of energy, reminding him of what he is, of a failure that defined the rest of his life. Even now, he picks up on every touch of Glacius' mandible against him, every caress the alien gives his body. The pressure is perceptible as Carlisle leans further back against the couch, bracing himself on it as he struggles to cope with sensations that are new, frightening, overwhelming... and desirable all at once.
With his face so close, the alien can no doubt hear the breath Carlisle pulls in, one that tightens his middle. Though he seems to be trying to stifle it, a quiet groan escapes him, yet he doesn't pull at Glacius' spike to stop him. Meanwhile, his other hand trails up the side of the alien's face and finally departs, returning to the floor to give him some support.
His voice is hushed as he finally manages some words.]
Th- that's good.
[Well, two and a half words.]
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He'd like to see if he can give him even more, at least as long as Carlisle is up to continue. The ice alien purrs again, moving on to kiss across the second scar as he tugs the clergyman's hips forward--and in the mean time he moves down onto his knees, bending his legs to put him low, the easier to trail his mandibles over the marks further down. Meanwhile the pads of his big thumbs roll slowly over his partner's hipbones, meant to be soothing and encouraging; the rest of his fingers stay locked in place, the better to help brace the clergyman if he bucks suddenly. When Glacius speaks up next his voice is a heavy, husky rumble, moved by physical sensations he hasn't felt in the longest time... but even more so by emotional ones that he doesn't think he's ever felt before.] Thank you for... letting me do this... I wouldn't change a thing about you, Carlisle. I want you to know it. [And with that he's moving on to the lowermost scar, his mandibles tracing lines just above his partner's hips.]
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Too good, perhaps. He's not home, but he's not allowed such things for a reason, his insecurities call from the back of his mind. Such bliss isn't afforded to the twice-cursed.
He finally speaks again, and it's more than before as he tries to shut down his uncertainty by drowning it out with words. It's a response Glacius has no doubt seen more than few times during their tenure as roommates, though his winding sentences weren't usually punctuated by labored breaths in the past.]
I cannot help but- but question your judgment at- at times, Glacius, as I can think of- plenty that- that I would- about- about myself—
[And he has to stop. Though he's doing his best to overthink the situation (an everyday habit he has yet to break), he's finding it increasingly difficult as another groan pushes itself out of him, the hand he brings to his mouth arriving far too late to stifle it. His head tilts back on its own; his face feels as though it's on fire. Is that healthy? That can't be healthy.]
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[Despite himself his hands slip up, slightly, his bare fingertips just barely slipping underneath the waistband of the clergyman's pants so that he can roll his thumbs directly over his partner's hips. Though at this point he could gladly let his hands inward, he doesn't, but rather lingers here--certainly not one to go any further with such intimate contact without consent.] Not some other person that you could have been, were things different at some point in your life; not some perfectly-trimmed version of yourself that you might see where you magically cut away your flaws or your trepidations. You. I want to be here for you when you are at your lowest, and I want to celebrate with you when you are feeling your best--I want to help you feel your best, if I am allowed.
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He'll be more flattered with what Glacius is saying to him when he can actually process it.] Will take- you up on that, but—
[He can't think through the heavy breathing and how hot he feels, his head starting to pound, his hands shaking. Tension has crept back into his muscles with the sudden onset of unfamiliar arousal, and his attempts to rein it in have met with only limited success. Even now, his hand still grips the couch cushion, curled tightly around it as though it'd hold him afloat in the flood of stimulation he's received.]
Ah- another time, perhaps. I don't- I don't feel well. I mean, I feel well, but too well? If that makes- makes sense. It's not you. It's- it's not you.
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He graces his partner's abdomen with one last kiss, then pulls his face and hands away from the clergyman's skin completely; the big alien flops down on his side right next to the human, his own breaths still evening out, themselves.] Of course, my friend--I was very much enjoying myself, but as I said, I just want you to be comfortable. Thank you for letting me get that close to you... I know it probably seemed rather sudden, but I... just wanted you to know that I embrace all that you are. And I always will.
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I've- I've never had anyone that close to me. In any, ah. Capacity.
[As if Glacius couldn't tell.]
It- it was good, though. Despite my, ah. Um.
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In any case, I'm very glad that you enjoyed your my introduction to this sort of thing. Thank you for... arranging this night, Carlisle. It turned out to be more than I could have ever anticipated.
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[Though the light is dim, Carlisle is positive Glacius can see him burning; if he can't, surely he must feel the heat radiating off his face. At least the thundering in his chest is starting to slow, but with that comes the reminder that he's got other aches to deal with.
He slides his hand over Glacius' as he smiles at the alien.]
Thank you for your patience. You are... always patient with me, in this and in all things. It's something I cannot thank you enough for.
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I suppose it can.
[Glacius' fervent passion had been more than Carlisle was expecting all at once, but so long as he can take it step by step, he feels more confident with this whole... relationship business. Perhaps Emily's glyph had more power than he'd thought it would.]
I admit that I, too, did not anticipate for things to go like this. I'd thought you might appreciate a reminder of home with the glyph, and perhaps someone to share it with. I didn't, um. Didn't think you'd be so, ah. Forthcoming with how you felt. Or even think that you did feel that way. I wasn't even sure I felt that way, or could feel that way.
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[The alien shoots his partner a fond grin, then goes a little more somber.] Though it still... took me some time to work up the courage to actually ask you about what you said that night. After what your double said... I, ah. I wasn't sure if you could feel that way, at least not for a creature like me... wasn't sure if you would want to even if you could. So... this has been, uh... quite the relief. [Glacius attempts for a slight chuckle here, trying to keep himself from drifting too close to those awful memories, the way the false Carlisle's words had cut like a hot blade straight through his armor down into his heart.]
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His fingers tighten slightly around Glacius' hand.]
You are not a creature, Glacius. No more than I. And that phantom wearing my face was no more me than yours was you.
[His face falls just a hair in the darkness; no, Glacius' double was far more like another alien he knew.]
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He said something to you before I came in, didn't he? He wasn't just lurking and hiding... you conversed. You must have. [And if Carlisle's double had delighting in tearing him down, he can only imagine how damaging his double had intended to be.]
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He wasn't you.
[From the sound of it, Carlisle's double had simply tried to ruin his life; however, Glacius' wanted to replace him. The things he say, and the way he said them—
He shakes his head, pulling Glacius' hand into his lap to wrap his other hand around it.]
He wasn't you, Glacius.
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[That answer is immediate, no hesitation at all. What the double had said was troubling, but more so was how he said it, and how he felt. He wasn't just a thing setting out to ruin his counterpart's life, as his own double had done -- the other Glacius had seemed genuinely hurt by the thought Carlisle would betray him.
Just like him.]
The other me came right here, threatened to control you, making you take your own life right in front of me before leaving me to die. The other you, though... he didn't seem to want to hurt me. More like he wanted to take your place in both this city and with me.
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Had it been merely a coincidence? Was it circumstance that the two aliens, Algidus and Glacius, sounded so alike? That the look in their eyes could, at times, be indistinguishable from one another? Where was it Algidus had come from before he was thrust into the jungle? How had he come to be?]
He didn't want to be erased from this existence, but... he couldn't exist as long as you were still around. He wanted what you had... what he thought you had stolen from him. Some of what he said -- it was so like him.
[His eyes travel upward to the illusionary stars; they are cloudy already. What an awful life he must have had to have become the way he was; in the end, he believed Carlisle to have betrayed him as much as any other.]
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Like your friend..? [Glacius ventures softly, watching the way Carlisle looks up at the sky--his expression so forlorn, his eyes shining with sadness in the starlight.] Like... Algidus? You think he was... based on me, somehow? [The ice alien pauses, really not sure what to think about that. On the one hand, it made a lot of sense why they were able to come together and forge such a strong friendship in this world; Glacius thought it was simply because Carlisle had experience with his species, but what if it was something more personal than that? It was oddly touching, another instance of that sort of solidarity they'd been building up, to know that no matter what world they ended up in, they would always be friends-- while Algidus' aggression and frequent lack of compassion was a direct point against that. From the sounds of things, the other ice alien had been tortured and angry and not all that kind at times... but Carlisle clearly still cared a great deal for him, clearly valued their friendship deeply.
It was all a lot to take in, and if the pale ice alien could barely manage to sort those feelings out in his head then he could only imagine how the clergyman must have been dealing with it. It explains a whole hell of a lot of why he'd been drinking so much so often-- clearly it had been bothering him for a damn long time. Glacius wasn't even remotely sure what to say, so instead he opted to remain silent for now, pulling himself up so that he could sit properly next to Carlisle and loop an arm tightly around him in a supporting, comforting embrace. No matter what happened between them of another world, he was going to be here for him. He wouldn't let anything tear them apart... they'd come too far.]
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[And that's for the best, especially with how things are now, what they have between them.]
But this other you with your memories and feelings -- what he said was so like Algidus. They were things he had said. Reactions, little tells here and there. Behaviors the two of you shared. I even thought you might be him when we first met. If—
[He swallows, trying to keep the quiet panic rising in this voice as his nerves make his stomach churn. The stars don't help him, the vastness of even illusionary ones making him feel small.]
If he'd found you, would he have truly tried to take your place in this city? With all these worlds and times, if there is another you out there, is there another me?
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[Glacius coughs, quietly, rubbing at the base of this throat again with his spare hand. He felt better than he ever had with his neck underneath Carlisle's hands, but now that it's been some time, soreness and pain is starting to settle back in.] A-and I have to admit that I... don't know how I feel about any version of myself, duplicate or otherwise, coming to harbor the sort of anger and resentment that you have mentioned in both Algidus and my duplicate. I remember times in this cave when I felt so embittered and angry over the hands that me or my friends had been dealt, and I remember harboring such resentment in this cave for the humans and their often brutal ways... all that suffering and death. But every time I began to get dragged down, be it by bitterness or resentment or despair, I had... all of you.
[Glacius heaves a mighty sigh now, feeling like he's beginning to put things together a bit more now. He wanted what you had.] All of my friends, to tend to my wounds and support me until I could begin to pick myself back up. What if I... had all of that taken from me, through no fault of my own? What would be left for me, save for my soul to fester? I'm... I'm not sure I can say. [But he doesn't believe it's too much of a stretch to think that Carlisle might have seen an example or two of that wretched, sorrowful, utterly lonely fate.]
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Yet he can't help himself as he remembers their last meeting, how he wronged Algidus one last time. He failed again, the alien's last impression of him being one of betrayal. It wasn't his fault, but he feels like a colossal failure all the same. The twice-cursed aren't allowed such things for a reason. Perhaps he should remember that.]
I don't want—
[He doesn't want to think about this, neither of his own, self-destructive thoughts, nor of Algidus' trauma, of what could turn someone as kind and patient as Glacius into something as embittered as the green alien had been. What if it happened again? What if Glacius' last memories of Carlisle became that of betrayal someday?
He curls inward, and leans closer to Glacius, lets more of the alien's arm shield him, as though it'd protect him from his own thoughts.]
I don't want to know. It answers so many questions, but so many more are born from them, ones that shake me to my core.
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So he turns towards his partner, the better to allow him to shelter up against him, and loops his other arm around him now.] We--we don't have to figure it out. You have me, that's what matters. And--look on the bright side, as you humans say. You've been taken between a couple of different worlds now and you're still yourself! That... has to count for something, right? Consistency can be comforting.
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He cannot worry about that right now, Carlisle insists to himself as he rests his head against Glacius' shoulder. Algidus would berate him for being weak -- berate them both, probably -- but perhaps he said such things because he was, himself, afraid of being alone. Knowing Glacius and how lonely he has felt at times, it's not too far of a stretch.
It's hard to let go of the defeat he feels when thinking of Algidus, but Carlisle knows he must try, at least for now.]
It can be. I do hope to not be taken to any more worlds at this point. I'm not sure the Glacius...es of them, should they exist, could ever compare to you.
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