Kalim's eyes linger for a moment, as usual, on the emerging scales, but only for a moment before he turns around as instructed.
"Can you see anything?" he asks, tilting his head down to give Jamil a better look. He gestures with his good hand. "It's kind of... round here." There is something there, of course; under the short white hair part of his scalp has become gold, a seam beginning to form like a skullcap around the back of his head.
Jamil frowns, tapping at the metallic protrusion lightly before tracing the forming seam with his finger. The sight of it makes his stomach turn over, though he isn't sure why and doesn't care to dwell on it. He files it away as simple anger that these things are happening to him at all.
"There's a stripe of something here. I'd guess you're having another change," Jamil says, resolutely matter-of-fact. He doesn't want to say it looks like the beginnings of a lid, whatever those implications, but it definitely does.
Kalim's shoulders sag – losing the tension of uncertainty, but not exactly relieved.
"Ah," he says; then, trying to sound upbeat about it, "Well, I guess it'll be kind of interesting to find out what's gonna happen back there, ha ha..."
"I'd rather we don't find out. Don't play with it." The changes will probably happen regardless, but there's no point in encouraging it if they can help it. It's only his own willpower that keep him from clawing at his face for the same reason, though the sensation of it is driving him insane.
Speaking of things he doesn't want to encourage, Jamil pulls his fingers from Kalim's hair as soon as the issue is identified. That's Enough Of That.
Kalim has noticed Jamil has been keeping his hands to himself more lately. Maybe it's because of the fist fight? Or something else that happened in his dream before they came here? Kalim's not sure, and he doesn't think he's going to be able to figure it out. It's fine, though. He can totally respect that!
He turns back to Jamil, tying his headwrap back into place over the weird gold seam. "Okay. How's your, uh, your...scales?"
"They're... fine," Jamil says absently, his eyes still trained on the top of Kalim's head even if he can't see the seam anymore. For a moment he wants to leave it there, still up to his old habits of wanting to keep Kalim in easy-to-manage ignorance of everything, but... maybe he's learned something about being honest and treating Kalim as a peer. Wild.
"I should tell you... I did see something that looked like a hinge."
(He dearly hopes he won't regret telling Kalim this.)
"A...hinge?" Kalim's hands still in the middle of tying the bow. His non-gold, meat fingers twitch towards the seam to investigate. "Like...on a box...?"
He doesn't know what to make of that, but he doesn't much like it.
"Don't touch it," he says automatically. "I don't know, I didn't look that closely." Jamil crosses his arms, looking sour. He's in a bad mood now. He's not actually angry at Kalim, but sometimes things get muddled.
"Like I said, I'd rather we don't find out. If you don't shift again, maybe it won't progress."
He doesn't really want to is the thing. He'd love to just ignore it and pretend it will go away on its own, but he knows that it won't, and it only makes sense that Kalim would be concerned, so...
Jamil sighs, gesturing Kalim to turn back around so he can inspect again. And he doesn't like it any more the second time. "Like I said, it looks like a hinge. This right here." He brushes the spot toward the front of Kalim's scalp where a metallic oblong shape is starting to emerge. "I don't know what else to tell you."
Like when his own newly-gold fingers are touched, there's sensation there – Kalim feels Jamil's fingers brush over the gold – but it's an odd feeling, dulled but somehow also heightened. The conductivity of metal. It's exceptionally strange to feel it on his head.
He shivers.
"I just wanted to know where it was," he says, swallowing. He's pointedly not entertaining the idea of it opening up, but he's glad it's not at the bottom. He flops down to sit on the end of Jamil's bed – there's not much space in here to go anywhere else, after all. "Thanks. I don't remember anything like that from when I shifted, but I wasn't really paying that much attention to my head back then, so..."
Jamil is quiet for a moment where he sits at the other side of the bed. He wishes there was something he could say or do to make better what's happening to them, but as long as they're all trapped here they have no choice but to simply ride it out with as much dignity as they can.
Jamil is used to accepting that sort of fate for himself, but not on Kalim's behalf. It's alien to admit that there's nothing Jamil can do to help him. (He also unfortunately cannot promise that Kalim's head will not eventually become openable, considering the evidence.)
"Maybe you should, next time," is all he can think to say. "It's better to be prepared for what might happen to us."
"Right," he says, pulling his knees up to his chest. Nothing's started happening to his legs yet, but he does have the feeling it's only a matter of time. Are they just going to end up stuck like that all the time? This is something else he tries not to think about, but it takes a lot of effort to swerve around it. His shifted form is... Well, it's weird! It doesn't exactly feel wrong when he's in it, but reflecting on it afterwards makes him uncomfortable.
He glances over at Jamil. "What does it feel like when you're shifted?"
Jamil's jaw tightens imperceptibly at the question. Unlike Kalim, Jamil had only managed to shift once, during the mandatory exercises right after they'd been abducted. He still isn't quite sure what had triggered it that singular time, but he isn't entirely sure he wants to find that out either.
The problem is that it had felt really good. The surge of power that had erupted through him when he'd finally shifted had been so intoxicating, so freeing to use at will that in the throes of it he hadn't even minded how monstrous he'd become in form as a consequence. Part of him had been disappointed to return to human afterward, and the rest of him was horrified by that part. He doesn't want to crave being an abomination.
"I don't remember it very well," he lies. "Just that it was overwhelming."
Kalim laughs, a little disappointed not to get more details. "Yeah, it is kind of crazy. It feels sort of weird we can change back afterwards, right? Like... I don't know, maybe I only think that because mine is all metal, but it just feels like there shouldn't be anything left in there to make all this out of again."
Kalim's hand goes to his head again, but he puts it down quickly.
"Jamil," he huffs, without much force. "That's -- ah--"
He jolts in place, gritting his teeth. He lifts his hand again, and this time he doesn't put it down; he clutches the side of his head, grimacing in pain.
Jamil takes a second to react, assuming Kalim is just being particularly dramatic in his whining, but when Kalim continues to act like he's in real pain Jamil surges forward, settling in front of Kalim's knees.
"Kalim, what's wrong?" He's automatically going back through the meals Kalim has eaten today, even though poison makes no sense here.
"Head hurts," Kalim manages, pressing his forehead against his knees. Underneath his hair, that weird gold seam is spreading out across his skull in spiralling tendrils.
Jamil inhales sharply at the sight, dread curling in his stomach. Immediately, his hands come up to press at the sides of Kalim's head; he summons frost to his fingertips and mechanically begins massaging Kalim's temples.
"It's spreading," Jamil says tonelessly after a few seconds of this. His feelings right now feel too tumultuous to process, so he forces himself to remain calm until everything is over. Kalim is very susceptible to uncertainty. "Is this helping at all?"
Unfortunately, Jamil notices easily, as some clumps fall off onto his fingers. He carefully doesn't react, his jaw setting as he continues rubbing circles into Kalim's temples.
He'll clean it up later. He doesn't need to draw Kalim's attention to it right now.
"Let me know if it gets worse," he says evenly, watching as the filigree continues to spread further on Kalim's skull.
"Uhhuh," Kalim mumbles, gripping onto Jamil's sleeves and nodding minutely.
It doesn't actually get worse, though, at least not in terms of pain. The steady spread of the gold filigree feels like his scalp is being carved into with a knife, and Kalim spends the entire time clutching at Jamil and shaking. But when it finishes, when the seam has formed a full circle and the intricate pattern has finished forming inside it on the back of his head – then the pain stops entirely.
He looks up, hesitant and confused, his eyes a little bloodshot.
"Doesn't hurt any more," he says, his eyebrows furrowing together a little as he looks at Jamil. "But it feels really weird. Like... Like. I don't know."
It looks weird too, if Jamil is still looking. The bald sections of scalp that have been sectioned off by the gold patterns are just kind of...blackening and withering...
Jamil is definitely still looking. He's looking so hard he acts like Kalim hasn't even spoken for a few moments as he just stares numbly at what's happening to the top of Kalim's head.
"It's, um," his mouth says, detached from his brain. He can't tear his eyes away from it. He should have done something, this is--this is something he should have prevented, it's his job to keep this from happening. "Some of it's falling out. Your hair."
"O-oh," says Kalim in dismay. He nervously reaches up to touch his head, only to withdraw his hand in alarm when his fingers brush the actively desiccating flesh of his scalp. "Ah – Jamil, what's... what's happening?"
It's crumbling to nasty black dust is mainly what's happening.
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"Can you see anything?" he asks, tilting his head down to give Jamil a better look. He gestures with his good hand. "It's kind of... round here." There is something there, of course; under the short white hair part of his scalp has become gold, a seam beginning to form like a skullcap around the back of his head.
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"There's a stripe of something here. I'd guess you're having another change," Jamil says, resolutely matter-of-fact. He doesn't want to say it looks like the beginnings of a lid, whatever those implications, but it definitely does.
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"Ah," he says; then, trying to sound upbeat about it, "Well, I guess it'll be kind of interesting to find out what's gonna happen back there, ha ha..."
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Speaking of things he doesn't want to encourage, Jamil pulls his fingers from Kalim's hair as soon as the issue is identified. That's Enough Of That.
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He turns back to Jamil, tying his headwrap back into place over the weird gold seam. "Okay. How's your, uh, your...scales?"
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"I should tell you... I did see something that looked like a hinge."
(He dearly hopes he won't regret telling Kalim this.)
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He doesn't know what to make of that, but he doesn't much like it.
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"Like I said, I'd rather we don't find out. If you don't shift again, maybe it won't progress."
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"Right," he says, frowning. He's not so sure about that. "Uhh... could you take a closer look? Sorry! I can't see back there myself..."
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Jamil sighs, gesturing Kalim to turn back around so he can inspect again. And he doesn't like it any more the second time. "Like I said, it looks like a hinge. This right here." He brushes the spot toward the front of Kalim's scalp where a metallic oblong shape is starting to emerge. "I don't know what else to tell you."
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He shivers.
"I just wanted to know where it was," he says, swallowing. He's pointedly not entertaining the idea of it opening up, but he's glad it's not at the bottom. He flops down to sit on the end of Jamil's bed – there's not much space in here to go anywhere else, after all. "Thanks. I don't remember anything like that from when I shifted, but I wasn't really paying that much attention to my head back then, so..."
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Jamil is used to accepting that sort of fate for himself, but not on Kalim's behalf. It's alien to admit that there's nothing Jamil can do to help him. (He also unfortunately cannot promise that Kalim's head will not eventually become openable, considering the evidence.)
"Maybe you should, next time," is all he can think to say. "It's better to be prepared for what might happen to us."
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"Right," he says, pulling his knees up to his chest. Nothing's started happening to his legs yet, but he does have the feeling it's only a matter of time. Are they just going to end up stuck like that all the time? This is something else he tries not to think about, but it takes a lot of effort to swerve around it. His shifted form is... Well, it's weird! It doesn't exactly feel wrong when he's in it, but reflecting on it afterwards makes him uncomfortable.
He glances over at Jamil. "What does it feel like when you're shifted?"
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The problem is that it had felt really good. The surge of power that had erupted through him when he'd finally shifted had been so intoxicating, so freeing to use at will that in the throes of it he hadn't even minded how monstrous he'd become in form as a consequence. Part of him had been disappointed to return to human afterward, and the rest of him was horrified by that part. He doesn't want to crave being an abomination.
"I don't remember it very well," he lies. "Just that it was overwhelming."
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"What, afraid you'll end up literally brainless now?"
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"Jamil," he huffs, without much force. "That's -- ah--"
He jolts in place, gritting his teeth. He lifts his hand again, and this time he doesn't put it down; he clutches the side of his head, grimacing in pain.
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"Kalim, what's wrong?" He's automatically going back through the meals Kalim has eaten today, even though poison makes no sense here.
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thank you for using that icon
"It's spreading," Jamil says tonelessly after a few seconds of this. His feelings right now feel too tumultuous to process, so he forces himself to remain calm until everything is over. Kalim is very susceptible to uncertainty. "Is this helping at all?"
unfortunately its just appropriate to this scene
At the very least, he can't feel that his hair is starting to fall out in between the gold patterns.
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He'll clean it up later. He doesn't need to draw Kalim's attention to it right now.
"Let me know if it gets worse," he says evenly, watching as the filigree continues to spread further on Kalim's skull.
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It doesn't actually get worse, though, at least not in terms of pain. The steady spread of the gold filigree feels like his scalp is being carved into with a knife, and Kalim spends the entire time clutching at Jamil and shaking. But when it finishes, when the seam has formed a full circle and the intricate pattern has finished forming inside it on the back of his head – then the pain stops entirely.
He looks up, hesitant and confused, his eyes a little bloodshot.
"Doesn't hurt any more," he says, his eyebrows furrowing together a little as he looks at Jamil. "But it feels really weird. Like... Like. I don't know."
It looks weird too, if Jamil is still looking. The bald sections of scalp that have been sectioned off by the gold patterns are just kind of...blackening and withering...
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"It's, um," his mouth says, detached from his brain. He can't tear his eyes away from it. He should have done something, this is--this is something he should have prevented, it's his job to keep this from happening. "Some of it's falling out. Your hair."
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It's crumbling to nasty black dust is mainly what's happening.
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