superniceone | tfln overflow / open post

To make a point. Merde, Gustave really thinks he's cruel.

Well, he is. But not because of that.

"I didn't think you'd mind," he says lamely, because it sounds very selfish and shortsighted now. Just a little bit of amusement creeps into his voice as he says, "I certainly didn't think you'd sulk." Maybe he's enjoying the sulking, a little. "This might surprise you, but sometimes I need to clear my mind, too."

"You do? Of what?" Gustave blurts this toothlessly, and then rolls his eyes at himself when he abruptly realizes that, yes, okay, maybe he understands the whole 'teasing as flirting' thing better than he'd thought.

He shakes it off, straightening up a little. "Anyway- please don't say you've come here to apologize for hurting my feelings. I did mind, but it's not going to be a problem, and I certainly didn't mean to..." He chews his words a moment. "Mind loudly enough to be a roadblock. This is humiliating, by the way. I understand why you broached the topic with bodily harm this morning."

"Right," Verso says, and winces a little at the fact that he'd actually, yes, broached the subject with bodily harm. That probably wasn't as easy and breezy as he'd thought it was. "You were right. I cut off my own hand so I'd have an excuse to talk to you."

Is Gustave picking up what Verso is vaguely and opaquely putting down?? He really can't imagine how he could be more obvious.

Gustave stares wordlessly at him, like he might be able to read some meaning that's gone flying over his head. Verso had hit the brakes on hooking up with him, had landed on Sciel as a more suitable partner to kill time with instead, which - fair.

Does he want Gustave to give Sciel the go-ahead?? Because he'd rather sink into the earth than have a conversation like that.

"It's no good," he says finally. "I'm too socially inept and you've spent too much time alone on this godforsaken continent. I'm honestly surprised we've ever been able to communicate at all."

Verso could strangle Gustave, actually.

He doesn't, although the thought is tempting. Instead, he says, "Surely, as a genius engineer, you could surmise why someone might do such a ridiculous thing. Perhaps you might even be able to figure out why someone might need to clear his mind. Perhaps because he might have something or someone on it."

Like, he really can't make it more clear???

Gustave isn't entirely hopeless. If Verso hadn't reliably spooked like an abused animal every time Gustave had slipped up and shown affection in basically any capacity, he might have been able to put it together.

But now Verso is dancing around whatever the hell it is he wants to say, seems to be expecting some revelation on Gustave's part, and he makes an exasperated noise as he flips to a blank page in his journal and begins to scribble a comically dry and analytical timeline of their interactions. It ends with what seems objective to him; that Verso, uncomfortable with the unwelcome extra intimacy, had broken things off to find a more suitable dance partner.

"Here," he says, passing it over. "Just - mark your corrections." If he can't plainly articulate what it is he wants from him.

"Wow," is all Verso can say. "You know what they say. There's nothing more romantic than details."

And it is very detailed. A peek into how Gustave's endlessly scientific mind works, he supposes. It's not like that for him at all; his thoughts are more... freestyled.

"All right," he finally says after a long moment of staring at this ridiculous timeline. "Let's do some science." He's not even close to being scientifically-minded, so you know this is going to be good. He taps the last event on the line, eyebrow raised. "Surely there's an alternative hypothesis for why someone might shy away from affection besides finding you unsuitable."

Gustave loves people, but diagrams are so much easier to understand. "You've got it flipped. The lack of suitability is a result of the shying away, not the cause of it. But- fine. That was the most obvious cause." There are a dozen other likely possibilities, most of them reducing down to the fact that hooking up in their circumstances was just a stupid idea in the first place.

But given the way that Verso is staining to get everywhere but the point- Gustave frowns at him. "You don't have feelings for me. You walked away when I tried to look you in the face earlier."

Says the man who straight up avoided Sophie until like an hour before she died.

And he chopped off a hand to talk to Gustave, and he again only spoke to him now because the journal was a good excuse. It's almost like he's not good with authenticity, or something.

"This may shock you," he says, dry, "but I don't have the best experiences with getting... attached."

Every human he's ever cared about, save for his family, is dead. Some of them by his hands, all of them his fault in a greater, more philosophical sense. He really should have learned not to engage by now, keep his emotional distance. It's just— difficult, when life is so unbearable and so lonely.

Gustave's brow furrows. He leans forward to take the book back, closing it and pressing the spine of it against his own mouth while he takes a few long moments to recalibrate two days' worth of mental calculations.

His expression is a little softer when he does finally lower it. "No. Of course you wouldn't. It's actually quite unfair to put you in this situation at all."

"Oh, it's very unfair."

Verso is just being mean, glib in an attempt not to linger too long on unpleasantness. It's him who keeps putting himself in this situation. He never learns.

"You're incredibly unfair. I should have known that innocent look was only an act."

"Innocent?" Gustave protests, and it's probably idiotic that's the thing he takes the most offense at. "I propositioned you first. I assumed it was - safe."

He makes an aggrieved sound, indicating for Verso to move to sit next to him.

Verso shouldn't sit. But, again, he's fucking stupid, so he does.

"I question if what we did falls under the definition of 'safe'." Another jest, purposefully obtuse to Gustave's real meaning — but also, that was not safe sex in the least. It was with a strange old man in the woods. "Clearly, the academy curriculum is lacking in... life sciences."

On a stupid, animal level, it's nice to have Verso sitting next to him like that. He shoots him a sidelong glance, face wrinkled like he's asking is this really the way you're choosing to misdirect?

"Suppose it was extremely irresponsible of me," he deadpans. "You'll have to let me know right away if you start showing any signs of morning sickness."

It's absolutely the way he's choosing to misdirect. Relationships are doomed and fleeting, but being annoying is forever. He does shove Gustave a little, because being irreverent is supposed to be his thing. Gustave is supposed to be the painfully earnest one.

So, a reversing of roles, a little bit: "Is that why you propositioned"—a ridiculous description that makes it sound a lot more slick than Gustave essentially arguing that it would be a service to the world if he got a handjob—"me, that night?"

He wouldn't be offended, if that were the case. It's very practical. He's the only one who wouldn't have potential complications should they survive. In fact, he's the only one who'd have no real repercussions at all; surely Gustave didn't expect to even see him again, once this was all over.

Gustave snorts aloud at the shove, but he responds by just briefly leaning his arm in against Verso's. It's not a lingering touch, not overt, but there's sincerity in it.

"What, because you were safe?" He shakes his head no, falling silent with an expression that indicates he's clearly considering his words. "No. I think I just - wanted to. I've shaped my whole life around building a better world for future generations, and - I wouldn't change it if I could. But the idea that maybe I could just - have something just for myself? I got greedy."

Verso hums, thoughtful. It's strange how close that is to his own reasoning. Of course, without all the existentialism.

"It's normal," he says, "to want to have something that you don't have to share."

Less normal that the person he's tired of sharing things with is dead, but that's a specification that doesn't need to be made right now.

"I suppose." Gustave lapses into silence, before he reluctantly admits: "Likely why I blew a gasket when you went off with Sciel. I thought I'd have a chance to change your mind."

"Blew a gasket," he repeats, and he can't help but laugh. He's not sure he's ever seen Gustave blow a gasket, even in the heat of battle. "Yeah, I think I speak for us all when I say I was frightened for my life." A little pinch to Gustave's arm. What a dork.

There's a pause, then. If he were a good person, he'd shut this down instantly. Tell Gustave that he doesn't know who Verso is (because he doesn't) and that he shouldn't waste what remains of his life thinking about him at all (because he shouldn't). As previously established, he is very much not a good person. It's important to still keep his distance, but—

"If you still want to change my mind after the Paintress, I'd be open to hearing your argument." A cruel thing to say, when he knows there will be no 'after the Paintress', not for long enough to matter.

Look, Gustave had experienced a flood of feelings that he wasn't exactly proud of. It felt an awful lot like blowing a gasket, but he'll accept the teasing with a little tilt of the head. "Alright. As long as you think you can keep yourself from seducing any more of my friends."

He's not looking at him, but he's smiling a little bit, just out at the what he can see of the nearby coast.

"Probably good you're sitting on my left. I'd probably be trying to hold your hand again if you were on my other side."

God, please. It wasn't seduction. It was practically a business transaction. But Gustave probably doesn't want to hear about how Verso was fully about to fuck his friend in a businesslike manner, so he keeps his mouth shut about that.

Verso stares out at the coast, too, sighing in a way that's not entirely untroubled before saying, "You know, I'm flattered. I've never blown anyone's gasket before."

Gustave tenses noticeably at that, before it becomes evident it's more that he's trying to hold in laughter than because he's upset about something. "Really? I never would have known. Well- you earned an A+ from me, sincerely."

This is idiotic, they're both idiots, and he's just going to let himself enjoy that for a few minutes.

Gustave should be scolding him for being over a hundred and still making jokes of that caliber, but clearly, the idiocy is contagious. Verso grins. "Oh, thanks. Means a lot. You aren't so bad yourself."

Then, he reaches over to the journal, tapping the cover. "As your editor, I should probably tell you to rip out that last page."

"I'm waiting to make sure there aren't any more pointless understandings to quash. Literally impossible to know with the two of us." But he's opening it up to do just that now, folding it flat and tucking it into his pocket to use as kindling later.

And, immediately after, he'll frown softly and investigate his wrist. "My aim was off today. Not sure if it was my head or something else."

Mm. Less fun topic. Verso's gaze follows Gustave's, although he's not quite sure what he's supposed to be looking for. After a moment, he looks back up at Gustave, frowning. "Are you nervous about the next Axon?"

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject