[voice]

[tongueamok]

As it seems this place has stripped me of my students, I have decided I ought to find another one, perhaps two.

[Probably one. He's not holding his breath here.]

If you have any interest in learning glyphcrafting -- perhaps some minor magics as well, should you show potential -- please fill out an application. I have left them at the Clinic with Kate Galloway for accessibility.

[And also so he doesn't have to meet people in person to hand out these things.]

Thank you.

[Click.]

Comments

[tongueamok]

[Carlisle lowers his voice, as though it would keep what he says just between the two of them; he does fear the false gods are listening at all times, simply looking for a way to tear them apart so that Sorrow and Rage might feast for eternity.]

You cannot protect me from all wounds, Glacius... but I know you will try.

[And he can't ask much more than that of his partner. He lets himself rest against the alien's head once more, the chill of his icy shell comforting in a way he doesn't usually associate with the cold.]

[glacius]

[When Glacius responds his voice is equally quiet--not out of fear of being overheard, but hushed due to the sudden and utter solemnity of the topic.] Of course I will. You deserve nothing less. And if I ever fail you in this regard, Carlisle... know that you will have the deepest apologies a warrior can give, and that I will do everything in my power to... make it better, and to make it up to you.

[Sometimes it's hard to imagine why the clergyman might be so invested in him, if he's a warrior facing the inevitability of failure in the one thing he is supposed to excel at; his calling is to protect others, and yet those around him still face the possibility of suffering every day they are stuck in this cave. Despite the lengths that the alien goes to, pushing himself to the brink and flinging himself into danger time and time again to keep others safe, it's hard not to wish he could... give them all something better.]

[tongueamok]

[Unfortunately, Carlisle knows Glacius well enough to realize that the warrior doesn't take failure well when it comes to his duty, despite the fact that in Hadriel, there is sometimes no way to win when it comes to the schemes of their tormentors. He only recognizes this because he sees it in himself every day: even now, his paranoia forces him to think of how the false gods may be listening to their every word, and his own selfish pride demands that he keep Glacius safe from harm for as long as he can. What if a day comes where he can no longer heal because of the aural maw within him? What if Glacius needs him on that day?

He has told his partner before that he will be more cautious with his health; he fears death, despite knowing it approaches ever closer with each passing minute... and yet, he'd expel every ounce of himself if it meant keeping Glacius alive. He has gone too far before when trying to mend his partner's wounds, and he has no doubt he would do it again without a second thought.

He has his moments of bravery, but as usual, they are the callings of a man on the brink of absolute desperation. He does not know what such a proud warrior, someone who could have anyone he wanted, sees in him.]

You needn't apologize, Glacius. My only request is that you don't leave me here... and even then, I suppose if you did, it would not be your choice.

[glacius]

[Carlisle should likely know the answer to that by now, given that Glacius just spent a good chunk of time describing everything that he sees in Carlisle--as he has done many times in the past. He'll spend whatever other time is needed hammering the point home, though, just as the clergyman will always be ready to remind him that he's not a creature, that he makes a difference, that what he perceives as failings have been anything but. Their past lives and current circumstances have all come together to make these particular notions harder to shake, but hopefully in time, they will come to understand each other in this, as they have in all other things.

Carlisle's next request isn't a difficult one, at least. Glacius pushes his nasal cap to the bridge of his partner's nose once more, emitting a vehement rumble.] Never. I will never leave you. I have always promised to be at your side no matter what-- and we're getting out of here together, remember?

[tongueamok]

Of course.

[But as much as Carlisle wants to believe that, he can still feel an inkling of doubt, paranoia poisoning his mind. It gnaws at him, eating him alive like a cavernous maw... much like the one he harbors within, devouring his very essence.

He can do nothing to sate either of them; he chooses to distract himself to cope.

Carlisle presses his forehead tightly against Glacius' head, the alien's spikes catching on his hairline. His leg curls along his partner's side, putting light pressure upon his hips.]

Glacius.

[glacius]

[Glacius recognizes that tone well by now, and the human's desperate seeking of affection and solace further drives home the point that he's starting to cave to his paranoia. The ice alien responds immediately--he nuzzles back, of course, but also treats Carlisle to a sudden and powerful roll of his own hips, trying to shock the clergyman out of his glumness with luscious physicality.] What is it, my love? Were you going to remind me that we mean to be celebrating right now, not souring the wonderful promise you have made with such dour topics? You have my apologies.

[tongueamok]

[That roll only drags Carlisle from his thoughts momentarily as it sends a shudder up his spine; he sucks in a quiet breath through his nose as it comes to rest at the base of his shoulders and neck.

He shakes his head, still needing no apologies.]

I need a moment to indulge myself so that I may better fight the urge to drink.

[glacius]

[That gets Glacius to exhale in a mighty, exasperated snort--in time with another pointed roll of his hips.] Carlisle, please. I was being facetious. Of course I want to indulge you--and for more than a moment, if I get my way. For many moments. [The clergyman should know by now how his alien likes to tire him out.]

So--come. Celebrate with me.

[tongueamok]

[Carlisle's head pulls away as his neck arches, the angles of Glacius' abdomen creating friction against his own and the scars that lie there, the sensual pressure upon them as captivating as ever. The alien most certainly knows what he's doing, even if Carlisle, at times, does not.

He brings his hand closer to the side of his partner's face; though his brow is still knotted tightly, he wears a smile of pure gratitude as he whispers in return.]

I am yours, then. Take me from this place in any way you see fit, if you would.

[Physically, mentally, figuratively, or romantically -- Carlisle isn't picky, so long as his senses are consumed with only the thoughts of his partner before him.]