tlv inbox

[superniceone]

Hey, uh. It's Gustave. I'll get back to you when I can.

[ic inbox for thelastvoyages - happy for comm threads or action spam if you're catching him around the barge.]

Comments

Re: GOOD MORNING.

[superniceone]

[gustave spends more time than is probably reasonable by maelle's bedside. rationally, he's aware that this is a Thing that happens here, that there's no real cause for concern, that she'll eventually wake and things will return to as normal as they manage to get for this place. it's hard to let rational prevail at the sight of her comatose body.

so he talks to himself, talks to her, reads books she'd find offensively boring out loud. tries a half dozen times to talk himself out of his own existential crises, but that one is a work in progress. between her slumber and the way he's still grappling to recontextualize the facts of his world, he gets less sleep than he'd like.

but he's actually in his own room when she does wake, his own door left ajar in the hope that he might hear hers open. maelle's groggy lurch mostly just means that gustave is going to catch up to her fast, tearing out of his room to grab her in a crushing sort of hug.]

You're doing everything you can to turn my hair white, aren't you?

[it's obviously not genuine scolding, but the relief nearly matches what he'd felt when he'd found her again in the manor.]

Re: GOOD MORNING.

[escapeartiste]

[He catches her with only a surprised rasped gasp as a reaction. That feeling of something amiss clearly wasn't wrong but perhaps misplaced? Did she die again? Surely she would have remembered that, the last time was so hauntingly vivid.

She'll never deny a hug, especially from Gustave. Wow, he looks terrible. She's definitely missing some context. Whenever he's willing to let her go there's a sympathetic look for a response. A quick dig through her pocket to take out her lifeline.]

I don't think you need my help to do that, old man.

So what am I missing this time?

[superniceone]

Nothing much. Just a... weeks-long nap. [he's going to squeeze her shoulder when she pulls back, his eyes searching her face like he's looking for signs that she might not, actually, be alright, before something in his posture relaxes. he squeezes that shoulder, then releases her.]

Come on, let me make you something to drink.

[escapeartiste]

[There's definitely a passing look of confusion that only subsides a little as she nods in agreement to his offer, though not without typing some more.]

I'm pretty sure I can manage to get my own drink, you know.

[She won't say he can't get her anything, but just some insistence that she isn't a helpless child. In case anyone forgot.]

[superniceone]

Never said that you couldn't.

[it's just that gustave very much wants to get it for her - and he's going to pull up a chair across from her as soon as he does, doing his best to keep the intensity he feels off of his face. it's a middling success.]

You're feeling alright? Nothing feels - wrong?

[escapeartiste]

[She takes the drink and sips it first, though she still maintains a slightly sympathetic look.]

Yeah, I'm fine.

[She types out after setting the drink down. It's a bit of juggling.]

What did you mean when you said a weeks-long nap?