tfln overflow / open post

[superniceone]

(open / overflow)

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[recreatable]

"He'll have embellished it more by tomorrow, anyway. Always more entertaining the second day." He speaks like he's painfully familiar with the tendency, because he is. Monoco's a showboat.

But Gustave had said he only came over to thank him, and— a sudden awkwardness washes over him. He'd been expecting something more than cursory gratitude, admittedly, and he finds himself feeling almost disappointed that it doesn't come to fruition. He shakes his head, like it'll shake the feeling out.

"Don't let me keep you, then. I'm sure you have more victory laps to do."

[superniceone]

The drive-by nature of the conversation was mostly out of feeling genuinely bad for interrupting his conversation. "Bit tired of walking, actually," he says, similarly awkward. "Might keep you company for a bit, in that case? If I promise to be less of a complete sad sack than I was last night?"

[recreatable]

Verso's smile tugs up a little more on one side, and he reaches out with a hand, pinky finger extended. "You're going to have to swear on that, I think."

[superniceone]

Gustave rolls his eyes, but he reaches out to catch and squeeze Verso's pinky with his own. "Is that good enough for you?"

[recreatable]

Verso lets the contact linger for a split second before retracting his hand. "We'll see." It's only a light jab; he doesn't hold the moroseness against Gustave, even though it had been a heavy and uncomfortable weight. Once upon a time, he'd longed to live, too. "Honestly, I just wanted to see if I could get you to pinky promise."

[superniceone]

"Excuse you," Gustave says, fixing him with a look of mock-affront. "A pinky swear is a solemn and unbreakable oath." He reaches over to jostle Verso's shoulder gently, all fake complaint. "How're you feeling?"

[recreatable]

Honestly? It had been a bit harrowing to face the Axon and realize what it was meant to represent. To watch the representation of a father's love die. He feels— conflicted, too. Happy, ecstatic, relieved in a way he's never been before, knowing that they're one step closer to ending the madness for good... and something adjacent to guilt, looking at the faces of the expeditioners and knowing they'd never understand.

"My back's a bit sore," he says instead of any of that, "from picking up all that slack." Kidding. Mostly. "You?"

[superniceone]

It had been odd, marching off to what he believed was imminent death. Not like he hadn't brushed it already - first feeling the metal of his own gun against his temple, and then again facing Renoir in the cave. He'd accepted it completely then, determined to stall long enough for Maelle to get to safety. It had been an easy decision to make, then.

"You do seem to keep saving my life," Gustave acknowledges, and he glances to Sciel. She's sitting with her back to a tree, face upturned, just savoring the warmth of the setting sun. "But I think she was the star of the show today."

[recreatable]

"Yeah," Verso agrees as his eyes drift toward Sciel. The hero of the hour, really. Despite everything that happened today, she looks calm. Serene. Like whatever happens next, she'll be able to accept it. Verso is jealous of that. "She was brave."

A beat, and he leans in a little, conspiratorial. "But don't tell Monoco that. He thinks he was the hero of the day."

[superniceone]

Gustave holds his hand up like he's making a pledge, possibly the dorkiest way in existence to signify that he agrees. "I'm not a total thief of joy, you know," he says, then cants his head at Verso. "How are things with Lune?" She's always intense when they're on the mission; it's hard to get a great read.

[recreatable]

Ah, Lune. Verso can't help but make a face — not at her, but at the situation he's gotten himself into. He's always felt a sort of kinship with her, like perhaps she understood him in some way, but her relentless dedication to her mission comes first before any friendships. Another way they're similar, actually.

"I told her that I wasn't a liar and a coward," he says, just as Gustave had instructed him to. After all, Gustave knows her far better than Verso does. "And she told me I'll have to prove it." A tilt of his head. "I guess you could call that 'probation'."

[superniceone]

"It's not nothing," Gustave says, laughing under his breath at the look on Verso's face. "You've got a few days before we take a crack at the next one. I'll put in a good word for you." As much as it feels like they should be rushing ahead, it's foolish to do they have the opportunity to recharge and choose not to. "Not that I think my opinion will have any impact, mind you. But as a gesture of good will."

[recreatable]

It's not nothing. It's a chance — one he knows he'll eventually blow. He won't be able to look her in the face as her existence is unmade.

"Thanks," he says, and then adds, "Your opinion means more to her than you think." He crosses his arms, eyebrows raised. "Or are you still going with the whole charmingly oblivious thing?"

[superniceone]

Gustave shakes his head at Verso, giving him a funny sort of look. "Hers matters to me, too. But Lune is the only person who decides when Lune is finished holding a grudge. It's not that deep."

And then he grins very slightly at him. "But let's focus on the 'charming' bit instead."

[recreatable]

Roundabout way to say yes, he is still going with the charmingly oblivious thing. Chronically unaware that he's the most eligible bachelor in this camp, somehow. (Admittedly, he doesn't have a lot of competition.)

"Probably best to keep it to myself, actually." But he's grinning back. "If I say too much, you won't be oblivious anymore."

[superniceone]

"Hardly fair. Everyone wants to hear they're pretty and funny sometimes." It's a dry little joke, and he glances at the team idling around the camp again. "I think a victory cup of coffee would really hit the spot right now. I didn't think I'd crave it this badly."

[recreatable]

"Damn," he says with a snap, mock-disappointed. "Should have refilled Esquie."

He's kidding!!! Esquie may be a wine-bag, but he's not a coffee pot. Even Verso has limits.

[superniceone]

Gustave stares off into the middle distance at that, distracted by his own imagination. "He'd be like a massive hot water bottle when we're riding him on the sea," he says after a moment.

[recreatable]

Charming, Verso thinks, not for the first time, and shakes his head.

"And he'd be a great cuddler, too," as if Esquie isn't already. "But there's always Monoco."

[superniceone]

His eyes come back into focus, expression pursed in quiet amusement as he sweeps them back over to Verso. "Didn't take you for much of a cuddler." Is this based entirely on how Verso had gently redirected his exploratory drunken overtures in the woods? Well, maybe, but not consciously.

[recreatable]

Gustave would be forgiven, actually, for thinking that Verso isn't touchy-feely in the slightest. He'd been almost perfunctory in the woods, but that had been out of a desire not to overstep, to displease, not out of any real distaste for affection. He's a musician, after all; that's as touchy-feely as it gets.

"It gets cold up in those mountains." Gustave wouldn't be used to huddling for warmth in the snow, although Verso's fairly sure he saw him putting an arm around Maelle to keep her warm when they'd navigated the mountains last. "And Gestrals are furry."

[superniceone]

"Both very good points," he concedes. The snow had been gorgeous, novel, and absolutely miserable to navigate. Gustave hesitates visibly, then offers, a little more quietly: "Well, if Monoco is ever indisposed-"

And then he makes a horrified face at himself, shaking his head no. "No, I'm sorry, I'm cringing at myself. Wow."

[recreatable]

"Wow," Verso can't help but blurt out, shaking his head and laughing. "I think that's a record for the fastest anyone has ever backpedaled out of flirting with me."

A century, and Gustave takes the cake. He couldn't even finish the sentence. Verso doesn't know whether to be flattered or offended. A pause, and then he cants his head toward Gustave's face. Particularly, his eyebrows. "You are furry."

[superniceone]

"That's not why I was backpedaling!" Gustave protests. That's why he shouldn't open his mouth, he thinks; that had somehow sounded much smoother in his head.

He knits those lush Robert Pattinson brows, stunned silent for a moment. Finally, floundering, he asks, "Is comparing me to Monoco meant to make me feel... attractive?"

[recreatable]

It was meant to make Gustave laugh, but clearly, he's too aggressively awkward for that. "Everyone's a critic," he says, crossing his arms. Even when said critics are so bad at flirting that they really shouldn't get a say. "Should I have told you how pretty and funny you are instead?"