Carlisle is often so tentative with his energy, as healing is about control: the healer must maintain a tenuous grasp upon it so as not to expel too much of their own magic, leaving themselves fatigued and their ward in agony, their veins seared from the aural overflow. Some, like Carlisle himself, have a degree of control over the energies of their patients as well. He attributes this to natural talent -- he has yet to realize it is a mild form of his influential compulsion that he uses to excel in his craft.
In the instant his energies connect and entwine with Glacius' own, what Carlisle does realize is that he has no control at all in this situation. He stiffens at first, fear of the unknown setting in, his natural reaction to almost any given stuation. His one hand remains outstretched toward the mote, but his other relinquishes its position, falling back to his abdomen and to those old scars, as though they'd tear apart from such an incredible influx—
But his fingers fall upon Glacius' hand at his middle, holding him up, supporting him still. He's there -- they both are.
And once he allows himself to be swallowed by the torrent of Glacius' energy, Carlisle can hardly comprehend what he feels. The pure strength of his partner is no longer just physically apparent on the outside, but from within him, as well: it surges through him, sharp and cold and wondrous all at once as it flows deeper into his frame, penetrating his every muscle, every vein, and even the depths of his mind. He can feel not only incredible power, but... something else, as well, something far more akin to raw emotion than tempered thought. It is truly powerful and magnificent in its own right, even at a glance.
As much as Carlisle would like to explore that something else, it takes him a moment to find himself in the flood of boundless energy resonating from his partner. It's so easy to lose himself in the vast sea of metaphysical innervation, to let go of all his concerns when he feels so.... utterly indestructible with Glacius around him, beside him, within him. Carlisle might not have a full understanding of what, exactly, is happening, but what he does know is that he feels just terrific, a wide smile sprawling across his face the longer he considers it, elated laughter escaping him before he can reel it in.
He closes his eyes again, feeling them burning; the hand at his middle goes to cover them, reflexes kicking in. "This" — he stifles another laugh, so alive with unadulterated sensation that he can barely think straight — "this feels so incredible! It's almost- almost electric, through my fingers and back. I can feel you through it somehow. Does- does that make sense?"
It doesn't to him, but not much does at the moment as he struggles -- mentally, and unfortunately, physically -- to process all that is happening.
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In the instant his energies connect and entwine with Glacius' own, what Carlisle does realize is that he has no control at all in this situation. He stiffens at first, fear of the unknown setting in, his natural reaction to almost any given stuation. His one hand remains outstretched toward the mote, but his other relinquishes its position, falling back to his abdomen and to those old scars, as though they'd tear apart from such an incredible influx—
But his fingers fall upon Glacius' hand at his middle, holding him up, supporting him still. He's there -- they both are.
And once he allows himself to be swallowed by the torrent of Glacius' energy, Carlisle can hardly comprehend what he feels. The pure strength of his partner is no longer just physically apparent on the outside, but from within him, as well: it surges through him, sharp and cold and wondrous all at once as it flows deeper into his frame, penetrating his every muscle, every vein, and even the depths of his mind. He can feel not only incredible power, but... something else, as well, something far more akin to raw emotion than tempered thought. It is truly powerful and magnificent in its own right, even at a glance.
As much as Carlisle would like to explore that something else, it takes him a moment to find himself in the flood of boundless energy resonating from his partner. It's so easy to lose himself in the vast sea of metaphysical innervation, to let go of all his concerns when he feels so.... utterly indestructible with Glacius around him, beside him, within him. Carlisle might not have a full understanding of what, exactly, is happening, but what he does know is that he feels just terrific, a wide smile sprawling across his face the longer he considers it, elated laughter escaping him before he can reel it in.
He closes his eyes again, feeling them burning; the hand at his middle goes to cover them, reflexes kicking in. "This" — he stifles another laugh, so alive with unadulterated sensation that he can barely think straight — "this feels so incredible! It's almost- almost electric, through my fingers and back. I can feel you through it somehow. Does- does that make sense?"
It doesn't to him, but not much does at the moment as he struggles -- mentally, and unfortunately, physically -- to process all that is happening.