XOqNI

[tongueamok]

Hello, this is Carlisle. I mean, it's not Carlisle as in I'm actually answering you right now, so if you're trying to reply to me at the second, you should probably save your breath because I'm not really here. This is some kind of a recording of my voice, but this is my communicator. I'm going to assume these devices are as common here as they are in other places — not my world, but others, ones more technologically advanced than where I come from— so if you'd like to leave me a message, then you may do so here, or er... Right. Here is fine. So just leave yo— [beep]

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[tongueamok]

[His eyes flick away, brow knitting.]

No, um. Actually.

[He's still obviously stiff in the joints as he reaches beside his chair and into his satchel that's sitting on the floor. He retrieves a leather, folding frame, setting it on the table and pushing it toward Chris.

Inside are four portraits, lifelike illustrations produced by a skillful artist. The first has a rugged fellow with wild, ruddy hair and an even wilder look in his vibrant eyes. He's got a massive axe strapped to his back and, if the definition in his neck and shoulders is any indication, has no problems wielding such an intimidating weapon. Despite his hard jawline, untamed features, and numerous scars across his skin, his smile is soft, kind.

The man in the second portrait must be related to the first, as he also has a furious mane of hair; it connects to his sideburns, all of his auburn locks brushed backwards and pulled into a knot at the back of his head. He has a traditional bow over his shoulder, the limbs engraved with symbols and depictions of various creatures. His long nose is wrinkled as he smiles for the artist, proud to have his picture made.

That smirk is no comparison to the confident grin on the third man, whose hazel eyes and chiseled features were likely to have made him very popular around any town. He looks as though he knew it at the time of his portrait too, his hand only loosely curled around his staff, fingers relaxed. Though not as weathered as the previous two men, he doesn't look like one to be challenged -- the orb at the top of his staff is not the only ornament on the weapon, as teeth, claws, and feathers all hang below it, attached by leather strings and wrappings. He's got several hanging along the neckline of his tunic, too -- trophies, mementos of favorite kills.

And the last portrait is someone who might be familiar to Chris, despite the fact the figure in it is several years younger, not even an adult: tired eyes, glasses, nearly colorless skin even as an adolescent. Even without the sides of his head shorn, the hairline is unmistakably Carlisle's. At least he's smiling. Times were happier, then.]

[thechoiceisyours]

[Chris watches with curiosity as Carlisle pulls something out of his bag, not expecting the folding picture frame and taking it carefully when it's pushed toward him. He looks over each portrait carefully, smiling a little at how much personality they all show, and then a bit more when he sees the one that's doubtlessly of a younger Carlisle.]

Are these um, your uncles and dad, I'm guessing?

[Not that he has any idea which might be which but he remembers Carlisle talking about them before and that they were hunters, which these people certainly look like they could be.]

[tongueamok]

That's right.

[That hint of a smile is back as eyes the folder fondly.]

That first one is my Uncle Boris. The one next to me is Uncle Benistad. My father would be the one in the middle, with the bow.

[If one thing is evident, it is that Carlisle doesn't get much of his looks or talents from his father's side of the family.]

[thechoiceisyours]

Yeah, you uh, mentioned Bernistad was a magician, right?

[So that makes sense, with the staff.]

This is um... A pretty awesome thing to get from home. Even cooler than the other thing.

[Even if blending in with monsters is probably more practical.]

[tongueamok]

[He nods to Chris' question, taking a drink in the pause.]

Perhaps. I admittedly never thought I'd see this again. These belonged to my father, painted by one of the many people he aided in his travels. He carried it with him until it came to me.

[thechoiceisyours]

Well um... It's about time that, you know, there were actually nice surprises in this place instead of horrible ones.

[He hands the frame carefully back to Carlisle.]

[tongueamok]

It is.

[He looks over the portraits one more time before folding the frame and setting it aside.]

I'd prefer it if we had less interference from them in the coming months. I believe last month was enough for a lifetime for me.

[thechoiceisyours]

Yeah. I'm uh, kind of tired of events at this point too.

[A lighter few months--or even one month--would be really nice. He takes another drink of his coffee, before adding--]

It'll um... It'll be a year for me next month.

[A year since he got here, and since everything happened at home. It's surreal to think about.]

[tongueamok]

[Carlisle offers him a sympathetic look.]

It will be two for me this year. One here, one elsewhere.

[His brow knits again as he looks into his coffee.]

I wonder if we age here.

[thechoiceisyours]

[Two years sounds just utterly insane; he can't even imagine being here, or worse yet some other new world entirely like had happened with Carlisle, for another year.

At Carlisle's last comment though, Chris tries to lighten the mood a little.]

Either way, I'm totally claiming I'm twenty now. No more being a teenager; I'm way too mature for that now and whatever.

[He's trying really hard to keep a straight face while he says it, but isn't entirely succeeding.]

[tongueamok]

[There's a genuine smile that crosses Carlisle's face.]

I'll be twenty-five. I don't particularly feel any older. But if it is that we can be sent back to our own worlds and it's as though we never left, surely we aren't actually aging?

[thechoiceisyours]

[Mission accomplished.]

I think it'd be pretty hard to tell if you're aging or not when it's like... A year or two at a time.

[Not a huge difference to notice between nineteen and twenty, after all, or twenty-three and twenty-five.]

But... Yeah. I don't know how it'd work with um, going home. It's especially weird when there are people from the same place but different times.

[So Chris really isn't sure if they get sent back to where they were as if they never left or not.]

[tongueamok]

[Carlisle sighs. He's heard of people being sent away and it being as though they'd never left home, and of people who returned to their off-world prison, only for years to have passed for them in their true worlds. There are those who return with their memories, and those who don't. What is it that determines who remembers what?

Every time he thinks about it, he just comes up with more questions than potential answers.]

There's so much that's out of our control here. It makes me sick to my stomach... though I suppose, in all fairness, many things do.

[thechoiceisyours]

[Chris doesn't have much experience with the issue here; some people have come and gone that he knows of, some more than once, some remembering and some not. But he isn't so certain that means they're going back to where they came from, exactly.

He sighs as well.]

Yeah, and I'm pretty sure that's uh, bad for like... Coping with things.

[The whole lack of control thing. In fact, he's pretty sure that's the opposite of helpful in trying to deal with the kinds of awful things that happen here and in people's worlds.]

[tongueamok]

It is.

[He flexes his fingers. A lack of control is a major problem for him -- both for him and others, if the events of the previous month were a sign. His voice tightens with worry.]

It's- it's dangerous to not have a certain amount of control.

[thechoiceisyours]

[This is getting close to the original topic they'd discussed about Carlisle's abilities going out of control during the event, and so Chris assumes this is probably at least some of why Carlisle had said he wanted to talk. He's quiet a moment, trying to decide on the best response.]

Your powers were um, actually hurting you because they were all messed up with the event, right? Is that what they always do if you lose control of them for some reason?

[tongueamok]

Sometimes. I've never quite lost control of, ah. Of them like that. It- it depends on what, um.

[His fingers tighten on his drink, and he stifles a wince from the ache that cuts through him.]

It depends on what I lose control of. Which- which abilities.

[thechoiceisyours]

I know you can heal and do um, the glyph thing Em does, but I don't think I know much about any other abilities you have.

[If there are others besides those two, anyway.]

[tongueamok]

I have—

[He cuts himself off. He absolutely does not want to talk about this, but he has to. Glacius knows by his own choice to tell the alien of the full reach of his curse; Kate knows by accident, a slip during a panic. He can trust Chris, can't he?]

I have what— [Hm, nope. Going to try again, and faster. If he just gets it out, it'll be easier. That's how it was with Glacis.] We call it an aural compulsion. The false gods are not the only ones who can force others to do their bidding, and I only have limited c- control of it as it is because why would I ever to— but that is why it is particularly dangerous for me to- to lose what grasp I have, as it is not a danger to me as much as it has been to those around me... if that, ah.

[Makes sense. Yeah.]

[thechoiceisyours]

[Chris is half expecting Carlisle not to answer and that would be fine; he'd said he wanted to talk, but Chris knows that a lot of times that's--pun semi-intended--easier said than done. But then Carlisle explains, if a bit unclearly, but considering Chris starts stammering the moment he's even slightly unsure of himself he really doesn't judge.

He can understand why Carlisle would be hesitant to explain about this, also. He's actually not entirely sure what to say in response, until he thinks about how he'd feel if he had a power like that.]

Yeah, um, if that's not a power you want to use, it'd... Really suck to have, especially if it goes all uncontrollable.

[tongueamok]

It is.

[Whether he means that it's unfortunate to have, or unfortunate when he loses control of it, he doesn't clarify.]

I- I tried to use it against the bear that attacked us once- once I realized what was happening. Why my head was pounding so badly. But I was, um.

[His hands fidget again.] I was afraid that you- you would be caught in it.

[thechoiceisyours]

[Using it against the bear would've... Definitely been helpful, if Carlisle could manage it, as far as Chris is concerned. He genuinely appreciates that Carlisle was worried about catching him in the effects--it's nice for someone to actually consider and care how he feels about things--but at the same time...]

Well uh, don't worry; if we ever get attacked by anything again, I'm giving you total permission to use it as long as you're not running me into a wall or something.

[It's mostly a joke, to try to reassure Carlisle--he looks so nervous--but he also mostly means it. The idea creeps him out a little, but if it avoids them nearly being eaten then he'll get over any creep factor pretty fast.]

[tongueamok]

I can't.

[He shakes his head, his expression hardening as much as he can manage.]

It is a vile ability granted by the curse I bear.

[thechoiceisyours]

[Well, that didn't work.]

And there's no way to like... Totally turn it off or something?

[He's guessing no, considering the curse thing, but Chris is not going to claim to understand magic.]

[tongueamok]

If there was, there would not be such a stigma against the twice-cursed now would there?

[That'd be a no.]