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]

Comments

[tongueamok]

[He had a feeling.]

Glyphcrafting, Marian. Not 'rune crafting.' It is practically a fine art in my world, and I expect you to at least get the name right if you're going to call me out here after embarrassing me in front of my partner.

[Annnnnd he's apparently still mad about that as he comes back around to that topic with record speed. He digs in his bag for his pen and some paper.]

[einselective]

[Alphys' idea of magic halfway makes sense. Even if there's unknown parts that Marian can't help but side-eye -- where is that coming from -- they're at least on the same page as far as technological integration goes. Carlisle's on the other hand... drawing pictures on paper? Really? Look, she'd been trying to forget, okay.

Pressing fingers to her forehead and closing her eyes briefly, her tone is almost as aggrieved.]

Glyphcrafting. Of course. Look. I called you 'out here' for assistance, not chit-chat. At the parasites' little masquerade that was clearly a mistake, too.

[tongueamok]

[Marian's dismissal just seems to incense him more. Carlisle's posture stiffens, his teeth grinding behind his lips as his nose wrinkles.]

I only sought to make chit-chat with you at that awful masquerade because we seem to get along well enough on most subjects. People here think those gods are somehow benevolent, and don't see them for the abominations they are. And I thought thought then, "Ah, Glacius knows about technology and is on the Guard. He agrees the false gods are parasites, so let's see if he and Marian will get along. Perhaps he can bring her some sense of security in this dreadful place."

[His mocking impersonation of his own voice picks up steadily, a month's worth of festering irritation setting in.]

And I understand what he looks like, but could you have not spared even a scrap of reason so you didn't make me look like an idiot for inviting him into the conversation? For accidentally terrorizing you and wounding him in one broad stroke?

[einselective]

[Marian's response is thin-lipped, as curt as the last -- it's not like this wasn't expected.]

Are you finished?

It's over now. What's done is done. Suffice to say, I'm... perfectly fine without getting to know him better. Now you know.

[He might not be here in the room, but recalling the encounter still elicits a small shudder.]

[tongueamok]

[Her curt response wasn't completely unexpected, but it makes Carlisle fume all the same, emotions in him sparking to life against Marian's colder nature. They aren't just fiery ones brought on by his relationship with the alien: he knows far too well what it is like to feel aimless, purposeless in the world. He knows what it is like to be judged for something he cannot change. He knows that feeling of helplessness Glacius struggles with, as well as the terror of the unfamiliar he saw in Marian's eyes at the party.

And none of that sits well with him, ire bubbling in his gut as his own self-loathing rises the the surface.]

Yes, I see that now. I see that you'd let yourself be blinded to what use someone could be to you out of pride, or fear, or whatever it is that compels you to act like such a gibbering fool. And that's coming from someone who is afraid of- of everything!

[That's not even an exaggeration, sadly. He pushes a breath heavily through his nose, casting his eyes to the floor.]

I want an apology.

[einselective]

What? [Still, she seems momentarily surprised by this before replying:] I'm sorry... sorry that I even tried to make an effort. Apparently I should have just left immediately. [The slightly more dignified way of saying 'run away', mind you.]

[Still, Marian isn't exactly angry about the request, just set in her response. This is always how it's going to be, isn't it? Someone who doesn't understand what's going on, has more personal attachments to whatever the issue is. Well, fine, so be it.]

If your help is rescinded on that, then go. I'll figure out something else.

[tongueamok]

[That non-apology just seems to irk him even more. He grinds his teeth together, but doesn't leave just yet.]

What is it you are so afraid of? What is it he's done to you that would have you behave this way?

[einselective]

It has nothing to do with him personally. That's all I have to say on the issue.

[Frankly, she seems convinced that he's going to leave, and simply waiting for Carlisle to turn around and walk out that door.]

[tongueamok]

[Carlisle just stares at Marian, a mixture of fury and frustration written in his slate eyes. One of them twitches, yet he holds his tongue.

He might not say anything, but what he does do says enough: he cranks out the appropriate glyph with record speed, slams that piece of paper on the jug, and activates it. The glyph lights up white hot -- appropriate for the indignation he's feeling at that moment -- and burns right through the paper once he's finished rather than just evaporating away.

The jug steams as he lets the cinders fall from his fingers as he shoots her a glare.]

You want to repay me for this? Or for the other work I've done for you? I don't want your help with technology. I want you to at least attempt to learn how to be a reasonable human being. Cast your prejudices aside, as they do both you and him a disservice. They will do you no favors in a hell like this, and he does not deserve them.

Though perhaps you do.

[And with that, he storms out, slamming the door behind him like the well-mannered man he is.]