[ He's still himself. Oh, his magic isn't under control yet, given the way the carpet fades and frays and disintegrates beneath his feet, the way the children's bones keep twitching and rattling all around them. And he's still agitated, clearly, but - he's calmer. Thinking rationally. He has the awareness to take stock of the situation, and the wherewithal to take charge, and enough control to withdraw his energy from the little skeleton clinging to his robes.
He's himself.
It takes some of the weight off Qubit's shoulders - a weight he hadn't even realized he was trying to carry alone. How foolish. Ultimately, the one who bears the most responsibility for Carlisle's actions can be no one but Carlisle.
Don't touch me is fairly obvious, and Qubit nods - but when Carlisle tells him to vacate the premises, his first instinct is to protest. Leave? Now? He doesn't want to. He almost gave up on Carlisle not thirty seconds ago, almost thought he'd lost him, he can't abandon him now, he won't -
But the rational part of his mind sometimes gets things right. This isn't abandonment. Qubit asked how he can help, and Carlisle is telling him. It's like he said - the danger to him right now is considerable. Removing himself from harm's way will give Carlisle one less thing to worry about, and widen the acceptable margin of error as he reins his power in.
So it comes down to: Can Carlisle do this on his own? Can he be left unattended?
Qubit's still for a moment - tense, reluctant, conflicted. But finally, he forces a deep breath into and out of his lungs, the heat of the air making his chest ache - not that it didn't already, but now in a more tangible sense - and nods once, sharply, deeply worried but resolute. ]
... Right. I'll be just outside.
[ He frees his sleeve with a gentle tug, finding the little skeleton's grasp no stronger than a living child's, and heads to the doorway. At the threshold, he stops briefly and looks back as if to add something else, but then closes his mouth and exits before he can change his mind.
Good luck, Carlisle. Apparently, he... trusts you.
no subject
He's himself.
It takes some of the weight off Qubit's shoulders - a weight he hadn't even realized he was trying to carry alone. How foolish. Ultimately, the one who bears the most responsibility for Carlisle's actions can be no one but Carlisle.
Don't touch me is fairly obvious, and Qubit nods - but when Carlisle tells him to vacate the premises, his first instinct is to protest. Leave? Now? He doesn't want to. He almost gave up on Carlisle not thirty seconds ago, almost thought he'd lost him, he can't abandon him now, he won't -
But the rational part of his mind sometimes gets things right. This isn't abandonment. Qubit asked how he can help, and Carlisle is telling him. It's like he said - the danger to him right now is considerable. Removing himself from harm's way will give Carlisle one less thing to worry about, and widen the acceptable margin of error as he reins his power in.
So it comes down to: Can Carlisle do this on his own? Can he be left unattended?
Qubit's still for a moment - tense, reluctant, conflicted. But finally, he forces a deep breath into and out of his lungs, the heat of the air making his chest ache - not that it didn't already, but now in a more tangible sense - and nods once, sharply, deeply worried but resolute. ]
... Right. I'll be just outside.
[ He frees his sleeve with a gentle tug, finding the little skeleton's grasp no stronger than a living child's, and heads to the doorway. At the threshold, he stops briefly and looks back as if to add something else, but then closes his mouth and exits before he can change his mind.
Good luck, Carlisle. Apparently, he... trusts you.
Weird. ]