tongueamok | XOqNI

[Carlisle stiffens only momentarily -- it's a reflex, nothing more -- under Glacius' arm before relaxing, grateful for the affection he's being given. He sidles a little closer to his partner, his hands fidgeting on the strap of his bag.]

It's nearly impossible to bake without getting some flour on you, I've found. I know you can't exactly, er. Taste it or anything, but I thought we could share it, regardless, and perhaps spend some time together in the meantime, now that we're both in better health.

[In other words, it was an excuse to get out of the apartment to come talk to Glacius about what's been bothering him since the alien was healed.]

... So not only did you come to visit me on my break, but you brought a meal for us to have together? [Glacius asks, feeling that familiar swelling feeling in his chest that he's come to associate with Carlisle's kind and thoughtful gestures. He tightens his hold on his partner and tucks him up against his icy side for a minute, essentially giving him a solid one-armed hug as they head over the bridge in the eastern part of the city.] This is so thoughtful of you, Carlisle--thank you. I would love to share it with you! Come, the park is not far... let's find a place to sit down, so that I may take you up on this offer.

[That embrace gets a genuine smile out of the clergyman; no matter how somber his thoughts are, Glacius never fails to lift his spirits. The affection and kindness the alien gives him each day is sometimes overwhelming, given the general lack of physical contact he normally thrives in. It's different with Glacius, though -- it always is.]

Yes, let's. I, er. Had something I was hoping to ask you about, but let's find somewhere to settle, first. And maybe check on those bloodworts.

[Thankfully, the plants aren't too far: he made sure to get them far enough into the park to be mostly hidden from anyone who may wander in, but close enough to the water that they would survive. Bloodworts need more moisture than most of his collection.]

It's good to see you doing well, since the, er. Recovery.

Oh, ah-- [Glacius' plan had been to have lunch together before getting into the gardening so that they could keep their hands clean... but he knows how important the plants are to Carlisle, and doesn't want him to have to worry about them. So he nods.] --Alright, yes. The bloodworts, then.

[Though he'd been keeping stride with Carlisle, he now slows his steps to allow the clergyman to lead them through the park. Despite some lingering bad memories, he likes it hear--the feeling of grass against his feet is welcome after the hard, beaten streets of the city, and the way the breezes rustles softly through the branches and leaves above them is very tranquil. He spends some time looking up and around, taking in all of the little details that are still so new to a being that hails from a frozen homeworld... but ultimately his gaze ends up back on his partner, and he allows himself to get lost in that as well. The warm (albeit artificial) light on Carlisle's pale skin, his softer features, the wisps of breeze in his light brown hair and the way those few strands of his bangs stick out in the front... it isn't long before that patently fond smile has taken over the alien's features again, masked my that silvery-steel helmet.]

I could say the same thing about you, Carlisle. Maybe it's just that this if the first time I've seen you outside of the apartment, not more or less restricted to your bed in some time, but you... look really good. It makes my hearts glad.

[Thankfully, Carlisle isn't here to do any gardening, or it doesn't seem so as he approaches the bloodwort. The plant has grown from a small shrub to a sizable bush, the red fruits hidden in its dense leaves a vibrant red. Though he moves some of the leaves aside to inspect the plant and gauge its health since it was moved to the park he doesn't do any pruning or cutting, deciding to save that for another day. He hasn't the proper tools, and besides that, he has company.]

It has been some time since I was in better health, as the false gods seem determined to wear us down by any means possible. Emily did do fantastic work with repairing my tabard however, so I'm glad you find it...

[He trails off as he glances Glacius' way, and realizes that the alien isn't just talking about the upswing of his health or the mending of his vestments. Even with his helmet on, it's apparent Glacius is watching and talking about him.

And that makes him turn as red as the fruits in the bloodwort next to him.]

F- find it to, er. To be in good... condition.

[So Glacius sees--he watches the way Carlisle inspects the plant with obvious interest, not having as much experience with this one as some of the others the clergyman has explained to him. It means he's front row and center to the moment of realization when it strikes his partner, and that only makes his grin more evident, given that the human seems to know him well enough to pick up on his expressions through the helmet. He suppresses a chuckle, tilts his head slightly to one side.]

Don't worry, we'll get you back in better health. But this is definitely a good start... especially now that I know that shade of red you're turning isn't a bad sign. [Alright, so maybe he can't resist a little bit of gentle teasing. In a way, he finds that sort of bashfulness even more fetching!]

[Carlisle's eyes dart away as he adjusts his glasses; he can feel the heat radiating off him, but can't help but wonder why it is he finds that notion so flattering to begin with. Is it because he's undeserving of such praise? Or that he's simply never had such attention laid upon him so thickly before, smothering him like a thick, woolen blanket? It's not a bad feeling, of course, just... different, relatively new. He will adjust, he reminds himself. This is surely what all people who enter... romantic relationships go through.

Though their relationships probably weren't with aliens, and they themselves likely weren't cursed and explicitly forbidden from such intimacy in their own worlds. He swallows that knot in his throat and busies himself with finding a seat on a nearby bench and emptying his bag.]

I am simply not used to such a- attention. [He pulls forth two loaves, both wrapped in paper to keep them clean.] Not that- not that it's a bad thing, the attention that I, ah. That I get from you. The, um. The attention we give to each other.

[He pats the other side of the bench for Glacius to join him.]

Edited 2017-02-10 03:29 (UTC)

[Glacius sits eagerly when he's invited, finally moving to slide that great big helmet from his head, which he sets down in the grass by the bench. His smile is still in place, and though it's no less fond, it is slightly tempered now.] No, it certainly is not. Still, I didn't mean to make you feel like you'd been put on the spot... I just... I've never really had the chance to just look at you before, and in that moment it all felt... new again, in a way. If that makes sense.

[Realizing that it might not, the ice alien gives a slight chuckle.] Like I said, it's just good to be out with you again. Thank you for coming to spend time with me on my break, Carlisle... the gesture was so very kind and thoughtful. So. What do we have here? I mean-- I've seen another of your bread to be able to tell that's what it is, but is this a particular kind that you like?

[Carlisle's eyes linger on that scar a moment as Glacius removes his helmet, but he tries to push his inquiries out of his mind for the moment. In time, in time.]

It's just more frostloaf, albeit better prepared this time, so it should have the proper texture and, er.

[Right. Glacius can't taste that kind of thing, anyway.]

Right. Well, I tried to make them look a bit like rabbits, as the rabbit was so insistent on 'helping' me, but that didn't seem to work out with the first one, so I went with something more traditional for these.

[He pulls the string and paper from around his, revealing a rather decorative bit of work, crosshatch patterns and symbolic designs pressed carefully into the dough so that they'd remain etched there upon baking.]

Oh, look at that! [Glacius' head cocks up, his expression both interested and appreciative.] I've never seen loaves with little patterns in them like this before. My people--I can't remember if I've told you this--we are very... ah, utilitarian with our food, given the lack of taste that you have noted. Not a lot of attention paid to presentation except for at the more glamorous of establishments. But this! How creative! You bring such unique skill to each of your crafts, Carlisle... it is wonderful.

[He smiles, running his fingers along the decorations. His features many curves and patterns, some that look a bit like eyes; Glacius will find his features more angular designs that mimic some of the glyphs on his being.]

My father was fairly utilitarian himself. I am told most of my more creative pursuits must come from my mother, as Uncle Benistad and Uncle Boris clearly got whatever was in my father's half of the bloodline.

[Glacius simply smiles carefully at Carlisle as he speaks... he knows that to talk of his lost family can be painful, which is one of those things that the alien understands completely, even if his own family isn't actually gone per say. At least his partner doesn't seem too saddened by this particular track of conversation; the otherworldly being looks at his own loaf now, his glowing green eyes tracing lines that he swears look a lot like some of the nodes of his microweave...]

Well, you are making good use of everything that you inherited... all the little details, even in something so simple. It shows a lot of care for what you make, which just makes me appreciate it all the more. I'm... ha, I've literally never felt this way before, but it's so nice I'm almost sad to eat it.

[That gets a chuckle out of him.]

I'd almost agree if I hadn't made this specifically for us.

[So he tears off a piece of his to show that it's okay to go ahead and eat it (or whatever it is that Glacius does, exactly). The artwork is ruined, but at least it doesn't taste too bad.]

[It does seem to make Glacius feel a little bit better about chowing down! He watches his human friend and then emulates him up to a point, tearing off a chunk and engulfing it in his hand rather than stabbing it with a shifted finger and absorbing it that way. The result is the same: when he opens his hand again the piece of bread he tore off is gone, not so much as a crumb left.

Then he leans back, slightly, tilting his head up and closing his eyes. His gills pull in a deep breath of the fresh air, no hindrance to his respiration whatsoever now that he's been completely healed; it fills his chest and then billows up out of the biological vents in his neck with easy, rhythmic fluttering.] And I thank you for it. This is really very nice, Carlisle... I'm having a good time sharing this moment and this meal with you. We should... do more things like this, shouldn't we?

[Carlisle glances toward Glacius as he inhales, glad to hear he's breathing better. The snow certainly did the trick for his gills, even if it left the scar on his face. Perhaps it was too old to heal? Or is there another reason?

He shifts on the bench, questions still clawing at the back of his mind as he watches Glacius' vents flutter and sway.]

We should. I'll admit that while yes, I did want to spend more time with you, I was, um. I was wondering something that's been nagging at me. I suppose it could have waited for when you came home, but I thought I'd just do two things at once, perhaps. Get out of the apartment for a bit, kill two birds with one stone.

Oh. I see... [Glaicus pauses; he had been thrilled to think that the clergyman came out simply out of a desire to spend time with him, and now, hearing that there are some other stipulations to this meeting has him slightly wary. As soon as he realizes that, he does his best to banis the feeling from his mind; Carlisle still clearly wanted to see him, and is perfectly welcome to come to him with any questions.] Good idea, then--no cause to sit around all day with something eating away at the back of your thoughts. Tell me what is on your mind, Carlisle, and I will do my best to help.

[Carlisle gives Glacius a brief smile, his willingness to help always reassuring; however, he's aware of how sensitive a subject the scar that marrs his partner's face can be. Glacius has expressed before that the wound and his missing mandible might give off the impression of bloodthirstiness: others may see an old injury and believe him to have been an aggressor rather than a defender. The ruined flesh reminds him every day of his failure to protect his friends from all harm.

Of course, Carlisle sees the scar in another light entirely. Those across his own abdomen are the brand of ineptitude, of a true disappointment who couldn't even die properly; however, Glacius' is different, as is everything when it comes to how Carlisle views the benevolent giant. That scar reminds him of the trust they have for one another: it was born when Glacius shielded him, mended under his watchful eye. He knows the injury as if it were his own, his hand having trailed along every inch of it numerous times. It became so much more for Carlisle as the two of them recovered together, growing closer as they shared the burdens they carried.

But ultimately, the scar bothers Glacius -- it still must, Carlisle thinks to himself, his eyes flicking downward, landing on the helmet. The confident, proud alien wouldn't hide it otherwise.

Carlisle hesitates, swallowing down his apprehension and another bite of bread as he works up the nerve to broach the topic.]

Well. Um.

[So far, not so good. Back his eyes go to Glacius, to that scar. He takes a deep breath -- Glacius has always been patient, as he is in all things; he won't suddenly and violently snap over this. Carlisle is just worried about reinforcing his friend's self-consciousness over the injury by bringing it up. He can't put it off forever though, not with how badly he's wondered about it for two days now.]

When you told me that the snow would restore you from any wound or infection, I thought you meant it would simply aid in your recovery, but your gills are truly like new. They were ruined, torn, and yet, you breathe better now than I may have ever heard you. I was given the impression the snow could do more for older wounds, then. And I suppose it was foolish to think it would mend your missing, ah. I mean, your scar. That one.

[There wasn't a question in ther, but perhaps Glacius knows what he's getting at.]

[Glacius returns the grin, the expression shifting from one of simple happiness into one of reassurance when the silence stretches between them, as he has learned that is more often than not a sign that Carlisle is battle with some misgivings. At first the ice alien has no clue what it could be about, but then he notices that his partner's gaze has ended up not on his eyes but just beyond that, settling at the heavy scarring to the right side of his face. The alien's gills flutter, fairly certain he knows what's coming... and when the clergyman finally manages to have out with it, he gives but a weak, unsure chuckle in response, dropping his gaze to the bread in his lap.] Ha... your mind is sharp, as always, understanding even processes that are alien to you. You were correct... the snow could have healed everything--the bone, the scar--it could have even replace the mandible in its entirety... I simply did not allow the healing process to complete fully.

[For a moment, it seems as if the ice alien is going to simply lean it there--but then another chuckle moves him, and he swivels his head on that long, curving to look at Carlisle once more.] I mean... how could I? It has come to signify so much... loss and pain and suffering, yes, I will forever carry that with me. But it is also crowns our coming together; it is a physical mark of the solidarity we share, and hopefully, a reminder to you that you do not need to bear your burdens alone. Even the one you view as strong and noble has their scars; if I am not defined by this, [and here he taps one long finger to the edge of the most prominent scar--] then neither should you be for yours. [And now he gestures more vaguely to his partner's stomach.] I will bear the sign of our commonality until you can finally believe that, if I must. It is so very important to me.

[Somehow, that is both the answer Carlisle wanted and one that's completely unexpected. A part of him had hoped that Glacius had somehow chosen to keep it: its presence had been a gateway of sorts for Carlisle, allowing him to grow comfortable with physical contact between the two of them, especially as it healed and the touches became more of an intimate expression. Even on the night they expressed how they felt for one another, it had helped him ease into things at his own pace. It was something familiar, comforting, and Glacius always did his best to make him feel that way.

What Carlisle hadn't expected was that the icy giant would keep it not just for his sake, but for his own, as well. For as unsure as he was about bearing the scar for all to see, Glacius recognized it as a symbolic point for them both, as not just an experience they shared, but of what they, as individuals, had suffered through, yet were not defined by.]

Oh.

[One word, but Carlisle's face stays red, his mouth stretching into a wide frown for only a moment before the ends of it curl slightly in an unsure smile. His eyes do the most talking: he blinks away obvious bleariness before pushing his fingers under his glasses to paw at one of them.]

Somehow, I'd thought you'd rid yourself of it the moment you could, but you are as thoughtful as always. I should have expected this, shouldn't I?

[His fingers twitch, and he reaches toward said scar, his smile more evident -- he's touched, and unsure of how to express it, so he goes for what's familiar.]

Perhaps. Perhaps not. It might not be an entirely rational choice, but it... felt right for us. [Glacius murmurs gently, immediately lowering his head to make it easy for Carlisle to reach him, and tilting his head against his partner's hand when he feels those fingertips grace his scar. He's attempting to encourage and reassure the clergyman, having seen more physical tells--though there was a point when any excess moisture in the human's eyes would have been cause for concern, the ice alien is getting better at discerning when it's a sign of sadness or pain, and when it's a sign that the clergyman is feeling moved. That touches the ice alien in turn--Carlisle has such a good heart, and he's more sensitive than he thought a human could ever be back before he was brought to this cave... though he supposes the human could say the same thing about him in turn.]

[Carlisle gives his partner a true smile, his hand resting more steadily on the scar as he leans forward to press his forehead to Glacius'.]

For us, then.

[It'll be a gradual process, thinking in terms of them rather than him, but Carlisle is making small steps. For now, he closes his eyes, just happy to share the moment with someone he truly trusts. Their meal can wait.]

[Their meal is the only thing keeping the alien from becoming even more adamant in his affections; it's hard to turn himself towards Carlisle fully without the bread in his lap tumbling into the grass. That's alright, though--he's content to sit here and enjoy the affection from his partner, the careful, considerate stroking along old injuries a familiar comfort. After basking in that for a little bit, he does press back against the clergyman's forehead, then tilts his head down so that he can give him a proper nuzzle, chuffing out a happy breath as he does so.]

[Carlisle remains there another moment, allowing Glacius to return his gesture, then finally parts from the alien, pulling off another piece of the loaf in his lap. He, too, would hate for it to go to waste.]

Thank you. You really didn't need to keep it for my sake, but I, um. It did help that night, under the stars. Not that you make me uncomfortable, of course, but starting with something I already knew was far easier to adjust to than something, ah.

[He'll figure out how to express himself eventually.]

[Glacius butts against Carlisle's fingers one last time, then allows them to separate so that they can both return to their lunch. He listens dutifully as he follows the clergyman's example; another sizeable chunk of bread gets torn off and summarily absorbed.]

I could tell, and was glad for it... and even if you might have felt out of your depth with what came after, you were good at all of it. Despite the deteriorating condition of my gills, I was able to breathe easily for some time after your attention. [The seems to fall into consideration for a moment, then takes another piece of his bread and continues.] Anyways... I wasn't sure if you were going to be happy with me keeping the scar or not... but if it helps you, I shall. There may be opportunities to heal it at a later date--[though he doesn't like relying on the gods, he can't help but admit that the ability to call down a patch of snow was extremely helpful--] but for now, it seems important to continue bearing it.

[Carlisle rubs at the back of his neck, his eyes on the bread in his other hand.]

I would rather you do what is best for yourself, but... if it doesn't not harm you, as your wounded gills did, then I appreciate the gesture. Just don't- don't feel the need to do things for my sake, especially if they would make you unhappy. You already do a great deal for me.

[He's rarely had to concern himself over another's happiness rather than just their well-being; his capacity for such an activity, much like the rest of this relationship they're now bound in, is a work in progress.]

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