hadriel | ✘ Round 3

I can only hope so, my friend. [That matter temporarily roadblocked, the ice alien tries to decide where to go from here. His original plan had been to let Carlisle relax against him while he nursed the glass of water, but he doesn't exactly feel like being so close to him right now, his partner's behavior having put a noticeable damper on how he often pursues close physical contact. It had been their way of expressing solidarity and support to one another in addition to affection, after all, none of which the clergyman had been offering him in this state...

... But that doesn't mean he should deny it in turn. He knows that Carlisle had been pushed to all of this because of great sadness and loss, and even if that doesn't necessarily excuse his harmful behavior, the alien still views it as his duty to relieve that; he still owes it to his partner to be patient and understanding-- not to let an instance of difficulty pull them apart even temporarily. Moreover, on the off chance that the clergyman does remember any of this in the morning, Glacius wants him to know that it's okay to mess up every now and again, and that he won't let such instances make him think less of his partner. Giving a sigh, the ice alien starts moving them both further onto the bed.] Now, I believe I promised you that you could lean against me as you rest. Come back against the headboard with me and take this glass of water. I want you to try your best to finish it before you fall asleep.

[Glad that Glacius seems to have backed off from taking his flask -- he'd do well to remember the alien is far more patient and persistent than he is, even on his best days -- Carlisle takes the water and downs nearly all of it in one go, only stopping because it's so cold. The chill won't help the quiet pounding of his head any, but it's a feeling he's hoping to sleep off.

And he'll sleep, he's sure. Glacius' presence always helps him do that.

He finishes the water and sets the glass on the nightstand, where it promptly falls off because he only got it halfway onto it. He doesn't seem to be bothered by that, leaving the glass lying on the floor for now. Back against Glacius he goes, mumbling a word of gratitude and something about a pillow as he makes himself comfy once more, so eager to stop thinking about his garden and his failures as a Longinmouth, a friend, and a partner. He can worry about his plethora of vices tomorrow, when he's sober.

... and maybe after just one drink to soothe any lingering woes.]

[Carlisle has taken exceedingly little away from this encounter if he thinks Glacius will let him have even one more drink. In fact, the ice alien remains motionless underneath the clergyman only as long as it takes him to fall asleep--and then, once he's sure the human is well and truly out, uses his shifting abilities to separate himself from the human resting against him. The otherworldly being eases him back against the pillows--the actual pillows, not the one he'd been dubbed as-- and turns him onto his side just in case he's drank enough to make himself sick, then removes himself from the bed entirely to go about cleaning everything up.

It takes Glacius some time--in addition to slower to be as quiet as possible despite Carlisle seeming more or less dead to everything around him, the sheer amount of bottles littered around every part of the room enough to keep him busy for awhile. Instead of making multiple trips to dispose of them all, he opts to pile them all up high in a box, which he then lugs far away from the spire in the waning evening light; there's no way he's leaving so much as a single one in the apartment, let alone even intact, as he attempts to vent some of the frustration from how his attempted chat with his partner went by breaking each bottle and spilling their contents uselessly over the ground. It doesn't really help, but at least Carlisle has no hope of reclaiming any of it now... though he could always just go to that damn bar to get more, Glacius realizes belatedly. He can only hope now that his partner plans on making good on his promise to keep from imbibing in the future, and that it wasn't simply a drunken excuse offered in an attempt to get him to let up.

Speaking of his partner, the ice alien can't spend long out here despite how the fresh air and space to himself helps him feel better--he has to head back to the Spire immediately to make sure that Carlisle is still resting peacefully, that he hasn't gotten sick in his sleep or suffered any other miserable side effects. Returning to their shared living space and finding the clergyman still fast asleep, Glacius then moves on to cleaning up all of the glasses from the room, setting them to soak in the sink to hopefully get the stench of alcohol out of everything. Doing all this clean up makes it painfully apparent just how much Carlisle has been drinking over the past couple of days--and aside from reaffirming in the alien's mind that he made the right choice in forcibly cutting the clergyman off, he has to wonder how in the blazes the human isn't dead right now, let alone how he was awake and aware enough to be responsive. He has to assume that human alcohol is much weaker than other drinks, but he has no way of confirming whether or not that's true given that, unlike his partner, he hasn't indulged in a single drop ever since he left his own homeworld.

At least there's finally not a single drop left in the apartment, either, save for what's in Carlisle's flask. Glacius briefly considers digging that out of the clergyman's jacket, but then turns that idea aside with a sigh and a weary shake of his head. Despite everything, he'd like to give his partner one more chance, so he'll wait until he's sober and recuperated before he broaches the subject again... which means that is left to do is to wait for the clergyman to wake up. Despite the fact that a part of him wants nothing more than to go somewhere else for the night to try and reclaim a sense of space for himself, he knows deep down that if Carlisle woke up sick or scared from a nightmare and he wasn't around to help him through it, he'd regret it deeply.

So Glacius refills the glass of water so that Carlisle can drink more when he wakes, then returns to the room. He shifts back up onto the bed and reverts rather than clambering up to avoid jostling or disturbing his partner, spends some time sorting the pillows underneath him and wrapping blankets around him to keep him comfortable, then finally slips back up against the slumbering clergyman. Spooning him gently in the still and quiet of the night, there's very little to do but try to nod off himself... and when the artificial light finally filters into the room, the alien wakes but still does not move. He wants to be here when Carlisle comes around, to keep an eye on the clergyman and to see if there's anything he needs or wants when he wakes up. If it happens to take him awhile, well... at least the otherworldly being has a boundless supply of patience, and doesn't seem to mind waiting around doing nothing but holding his partner as he waits for the human to come back to him.

He can only hope that when he does, the person that he remembers and cares for will be beginning to poke through again underneath the callous irritability that had taken hold last night.]

[For the most part, Carlisle sleeps for the dead; if not for his steady snoring, one might think he was. As Glacius works to rid his room and the apartment of any traces of his vice, Carlisle is completely unmoving, similarly undisturbed when the alien finally slips back beside him.

Sometime in the early morning, he enters the sleep of the living, one peppered with dreams. Coilers reach and twist around him like snakes, and much like the skinny reptiles, Carlisle can't keep them in his pots, as they slip right through the holes in the bottom with ease. Why would anyone keep snakes in pots? He hasn't long to ponder that as the fire around him spreads, and he decides he should—

Carlisle breaks from his slumber before the dream becomes a nightmare, though it's abrupt enough of a transition that he seems lost for a moment, drowsily mumbling something about getting 'the snakes out' as he looks around the dim room, most of the light outside blocked by his curtains. His glasses are still on his face, completely askew; his hair is an absolute mess compared to how tidy he usually keeps it. His head hurts, chest hurts worse, and -- oh, Glacius is still here.

Rubbing at his face, Carlisle only vaguely remembers the night prior through the throbbing behind his eyes and at his temples. He most certainly owes Glacius an apology of some sort; he should probably start with trying to handle himself in some other way than drinking and hiding in the closet, moping.]

Good, um.

[He abandons that greeting halfway through. His mouth is painfully dry, and he doesn't even know if it's morning anymore or not.]

[Feeling the human begin to stir against him, Glacius cracks his glowing green eyes open--he's been resting with them closed for some time now, relaxed posturing that belies how alert he is, keeping watch for anything that might threaten his partner while he's so utterly vulnerable. Aside from that he doesn't move much, not wanting to jostle or startle him--though this waking is somewhat more peaceful than most have been, he can still tell that Carlisle is not feeling well. After a moment he slips one cool hand to his partner's forehead, the other resting over his stomach.] Sh. Take it easy, Carlisle. You have a lot to recover from, but you're safe. I'm here.

[He drags his hand down his face, then brings it up to resettle on Glacius' against him.]

Cisth. Sorry about... sorry. You didn't have to stay in here with me. I don't recall being, um. Very pleasant.

[He still isn't, if how awful he looks says much to him.]

[Glacius gives a slight smile, not that Carlisle can see it given how the alien is tucked up against his back; he's just glad to see him getting back to his old self already. Amazing how much of a difference not being awfully drunk makes--again, the alien is reminded that he did the right thing in removing all of his alcohol.] You weren't, but that doesn't mean I'm going to leave you here alone to suffer nightmares or sickness without any support. We're partners--we stand by each other. And I have always said that I will be here for you.

I would argue that you should have left me, but I know better. [Or at least he does now that he's not being fueled by liquor and stubbornness alone.] Desth, this hurts.

[His head might be working its way toward a new kind of agony, but at least he's not hurling up his insides. It could be worse. He rubs at his arms, feeling the cold as he straightens his glasses and looks around the room again with marginally clearer eyes. It does look... different, though he hasn't yet put together how.]

Good, you--[Glacius was about to say that Carlisle has already made far greater strides in the first thirty seconds of being awake and being more or less sober than he had in the entirety of last night, but then his pained exclamation catches him off guard. He shifts his hand slightly, unsure if the pressure is making it worse, and ends up coming his fingers gently through his partner's unkempt hair--a consoling gesture despite his gently chastising words.]

See--this is exactly why I do not want you continuing such behavior. It only leaves you miserable, physically and emotionally. Should... should I make your painkilling brew? How is your stomach?

[He shakes his head as his other hand strays to his eyes, pressing upon them as through the pressure there relieves it elsewhere.] My stomach is fine, surprisingly. My head is not. Such behavior might leave me miserable in the morning [or afternoon, or whenever he wakes up], but at least it gives me respite from my own mind for a time.

[He lets Glacius run his fingers through his hair another moment before sliding do the edge of the bed, his feet reaching for the ground with a degree of uncertainty.]

I don't deserve your patience, my friend.

[The smile vanishes instantly as Carlisle makes to justify the behavior that the alien has just openly said he detests; when the clergyman pulls himself away the ice alien props himself up on his elbows, frowning deeply.] And yet despite your continued insistence that this behavior is in any way acceptable, you are right back to the line of thinking that dragged you down in the first place. I hardly think that qualifies as respite.

[Then Carlisle goes and tacks that on, and Glacius regards him for a moment before dropping his head and sighing. He scoots closer to his partner when he moves towards the edge of the bed, ready to support him if he needs it.] You deserve my patience. You always deserve my patience. Your self-harming vices, on the other hand, do not. How much do you remember about where we left the conversation last night?

[Carlisle runs a hand through his hair.]

Something about me not drinking, I'm sure. [Sigh. That's an easy guess, though; he looks harder into the fog of his mind.] My garden being burned as retribution for my sin. The river and snakes. Did we talk about snakes? How long was I in the closet?

[Don't answer that, Glacius. It was more for himself, anyway. He keeps going, starting to realize what it is that's different about the room.]

Did... did you clean up in here?

That was not retribution, [Glacius responds immediately, unsurprisingly jumping to the defense of his partner first and foremost--] that was simply hurtful cruelty. You didn't deserve that sort of treachery, and I hope one day you can believe it.

[The ice alien huffs, but then nods.] I did. I have removed every single bottle, every single container, every last drop of alcohol from this dwelling. [So it seems like Carlisle's assumptions about them discussing the end of his drinking habits were right on point. Glacius levels a gaze at him, one that looks apologetic, but determined.] All... but one, that is.

Edited 2017-03-09 04:34 (UTC)

[Carlisle glances back toward Glacius, his eyes tired, but far more focused than they were the entirety of the night prior. He seems taken aback by Glacius' fervent defense, but knows he really shouldn't be. The alien has always been on his side, even when Carlisle believes he shouldn't be.

And he admits inwardly that he feels a little guilty for how much he appreciates that... how much he wants and needs that support. He knows well enough that he'd probably drink himself into oblivion if left to his own devices at times -- and he's sometimes surprised he hasn't. That is what brought Glacius' concern on, after all.

Carlisle casts his eyes away from Glacius; they land on his jacket.] Ah. Right. [Now he recalls that last bit.]

Yes. [At first that seems like all the alien will reply with, as he watches Carlisle intently from his propped-up position on the bed. After a few long moments of silence, however he does speak up again quietly:] I am sorry, Carlisle. I know this isn't easy.I know the flask means a lot to you. But please... I implore you... don't let yourself be a prisoner to this any longer. Please take this one last chance that I am giving you. I know--I know you can do this.

[Carlisle contemplates another moment, his head still thundering away, his gut turning as he thinks about separating himself from another one of his few possessions. He has so few reminders of home, and the ones he does have were mostly gifts, precious treasures he wouldn't part with for the world. He'd been distraught over ruining his father's pen just to get those plants, and had hoped he'd never have to do something so heinous again.

But if it comes to losing his flask or losing his partner's confidence... he knows what choice he needs to make. He's not destroying it -- he's entrusting it to Glacius, and if he truly feels for the icy being, cares for him, wants to be with him, then the choice is abundantly clear.

With another sigh, Carlisle gets to his feet, shakily crossing the room to his desk and the jacket draped across the back of his chair. He fishes out his flask, his tired eyes taking in the smooth stone and silver inlay, fingers running over the engravings on both sides as he returns to the bed, and finally relinquishes it to Glacius.]

I trust you more than I trust myself. [And with this, he's making good on his word -- he absolutely means that.]

Edited 2017-03-09 11:13 (UTC)

[For that one extra moment in which Carlisle contemplates his plea, the ice alien finds his chest tight, hope battling with misgivings that perhaps this change won't be worth it to his partner after all. And though he's still watching the clergyman every bit as intently as he gets to his feet, that tension ebbs almost as immediately as he crosses the room, digs out his flask, and returns to stand before the alien.

Glacius is both absolutely silent and utterly careful as he accepts the flask, then bows his head to his partner as a showing of gratitude and affirmation; when he lifts his head again, however, his eyes express everything that needs to be said. They're brimming with fondness, pride, and relief--after a moment he seems unable to help himself, his hand traveling up Carlisle's arm to pull the human up against him in a firm embrace.] I... I'm so glad you're back, Carlisle. The person I spoke to last night... he was nowhere near as kind, understanding, or strong as I know you have the capacity to be--as you have just shown you have the capacity to be. I promise to be worthy of that trust. I'll keep the flask safe until it is time to return it to you. I won't lead you astray.

[It's apparent in Glacius' eyes just how much Carlisle wounded him last night; even a warrior as hardy as him has a weakness.

And yet, he still calls Carlisle kind, understanding, strong -- someone like him who depends so thoroughly on others, who shut himself away because of the misery he brought upon his family with his very existence. Though they didn't always understand him, they thought the world of him; however, it's harder every day to remember that as his own memories and perceptions become colored by self-loathing.

Carlisle brings his arms up behind Glacius to return the embrace. He doesn't deserve to be called kind after what he did to Shadow; he doesn't exhibit strength in his cowardice. Even now, it is Glacius who shows him understanding rather than the other way around.

Whatever goodness he has within, Carlisle cannot see it through the stain of his own flaws, and it's hard to believe it was ever there when he wounds his partner so. All he can do is work toward a redemption he's not sure he'll ever earn.

... Thoughts like that make him want a drink, but it's a bit late for that now.]

[Glacius sits still in Carlisle's embrace for only a second; in the next, he flops backwards onto the bed, pulling the clergyman down on top of him. It's a playful attempt to snap his partner out of the gloomy haze he can see his mind slipping back into; the ice alien's had been doing the same a moment ago as he thought over last night, but now, it is time to move forward.] Things may seem hard now, and it may seem like you have a lot bearing down on you at once... but I promise you, Carlisle, it will get easier in time. Your body will adjust to the lack of numbing addiction. Your heart will heal from its loss now that you are allowing yourself to feel, and I will be here to tend to it. And we will work on regrowing your garden. You must simply allow the time for all of this to happen, and not be too hard on yourself when you struggle. We all do, there is no shame in it... and I will be here to remind you of that as many times as you need me to.

[Though he nods against Glacius now, Carlisle knows he'll be wanting that drink later, when he's not still reeling from a night of intoxication.]

What I need to do is make amends.

[That's enough to get a mighty sigh out of Glacius.] Carlisle, please. You cannot keep blaming yourself when people act out against you! If you do this, if you act as though you are the one who is truly at fault here, you are only perpetuating this hateful behavior--letting the scum that did this to you feel justified in their wretched actions. No matter what someone has endured, violence and hurtful retaliation will never fix anything. The person that acted against you needs to answer for what they did!

[The human can probably feel the ice alien puffing up angrily underneath him as his rallying for his partner veers more towards frustrated ranting. He'd just found out what had been done to his partner last night, after all, and remembering how distraught and hurt Carlisle had been for so long makes his hearts burn with cold anger on behalf of his partner. It wasn't enough that he had to endure such injustice back in his own world--it had to follow him here, too. How dare whoever did this, and how dare they take advantage of the clergyman's kind heart now. Carlisle may not be forthcoming about who wronged him, but Glacius will never rest until they know just what a wretch they are... and he has an endless supply of both persistence and patience.

One day, the person that did this will slip up... and then he'll be there, to make sure they're held accountable for the actions that the clergyman is allowing them to get away with.]

[Maybe it's the hangover wearing away at him, or maybe it's the guilt, but whatever the reason, Carlisle is subdued by comparison to Glacius, the fury and fire he had last night having died out somewhere along the way to the morning. Left in its wake is the desire to right those who have been wronged -- perhaps, in doing that, he can begin to focus on rebuilding his garden once more. He has plants and cuttings, and a partner willing to help him. That's more than he had when he arrived in the city. It's a start.]

Glacius.

[His voice is quiet against the alien; Carlisle unfolds his arms from around the icy giant, trying to meet those glowing green ones with his own.]

What was done to me might not be perfectly justified, but neither is what I did to instigate it. My goddess would have me do this if I am to find myself in her good graces.

[Glacius readily meets the clegryman's gaze, anger and hurt on behalf of his partner quietly simmering there... as well as a sort of defiance that is perhaps a bit too familiar. When Carlisle speaks his name, however, so clearly and evenly, it seems to break through--the alien's glowing green eyes start to clear up as his pupils dilate normally once more and the muscles in his neck and face relax. He still doesn't think Carlisle is in the wrong here... but he has never seen it as his place to dictate the affairs of the others, nor is he about to get in the way of whatever it is his partner needs to do to heal. He will defer.]

... Fine, [the alien rumbles, his flared mandible settling back against the side of his face.] As long as you admit that it was not justified, and do not blame yourself so fiercely for it. Just... at least make sure that the other party apologizes and seeks to right their own wrongs, too. They shouldn't be able to walk away from this thinking that what they did was acceptable... and this shouldn't have to be all on you.

I will try, my friend.

[Though he bows his head and nods to that, there is a subtle uncertainty in his tone, as though he's not sure that getting an apology out of Shadow is a task he could ever hope to accomplish. Giving Glacius another gentle touch along the arm, Carlisle brings his hand to his eyes once more, still trying to rub both sleep and pain from them.]

As much as I would like to stay here, I should perhaps attempt to clean myself up for the day.

[Or what's left of it. He'd have a drink to soothe the headache, but when Glacius says he got rid of all of it, Carlisle is positive me means it. His people are not prone to lies or exaggeration.]

Edited 2017-03-10 01:33 (UTC)

See to it. [Glacius nods, having heard that subtle uncertainty and not feeling up to leaving much room for it. Carlisle might have tempered his will, but that doesn't mean he's going to let someone walk all over his partner. After that his eyes flick down to his partner's hand, observing the point of contact until Carlisle's physical expression of his tiredness and pain. He chirps.]

Easy, my partner--give yourself a little bit more time to come back around. You were under for a long time, and I don't want you trying to get up too quickly, only to stumble and fall over now. I refilled your water glass--[and as he speaks reaches over with his long arm to grab said glass, stretching underneath his partner]--try to have some more, give yourself time to adjust and recuperate... and then do whatever it is you need to do.

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