Gustave stares at him, his expression carefully impassive. "Don't ask me that unless you have a reason to." It could have been a warning, but it's clearly a plea.
Well, there's his answer. He's not sure what he expected. Did he want Gustave to hold his hand and tell him that he's doing the right thing, that Gustave would do the same if only he knew? That was never going to happen.
"I would do anything for her, Verso." He doesn't know that it was, but it wasn't an idle question. "I would fuck the mission in a heartbeat. If that's what you were asking."
A long silence follows that, less companionable and more loaded. He turns Gustave's words over in his mind, but all he says in response is, "Family, huh?" Can't live with them, can't live without them.
Then, as if he didn't just ask Gustave to confess an awful truth: "It's been a long day. We should turn in."
"I've been known to be infuriating." But he doesn't actually want to infuriate Gustave, even though he would rather Gustave share and get nothing in return. "Fine. I'd choose my sister, too. Just thinking about her, I guess."
Is it Maelle he should describe, or her facsimile? They're both his sisters. Different in some ways; the painted Alicia was created with resentment, doomed to suffer forever for committing what Maman considered a grave sin — surviving when Verso didn't. Maelle is a version of her he thought he'd never get to see again. Full of life, ready to take on anything.
He splits the difference. "She's sad," he says, because it describes the both of them. "But she tries to keep up a brave face." Just like Maelle, planning a victory party to keep everyone in high spirits. "The family feud is difficult on her."
"She sounds like she takes a lot after you," Gustave confesses quietly, and to his own quiet humiliation, he's reaching for Verso's hand, hoping to catch it in his own. "You must have been close with her."
Verso lets Gustave's fingers brush his. It's been a long time since anyone held his hand. He should discourage it, but the feeling of human touch provides some level of comfort and reassurance. Just for a moment, he tells himself.
"I was, once," he says, trying to sound light, like it's all in the past, and that he doesn't spend all day feeling as if he's miles away from both Maelle and Alicia. Like she's behind a locked door, at times both literally and metaphorically.
"That's what older brothers are for, isn't it? Emma was immune to my nonsense, and she was absolutely furious with me when she realized Maelle wasn't."
When she'd volunteered herself for the expedition and no one had been able to dissuade her. Gustave hadn't loved that, either, but she was her own person, and he had to respect her choice.
"Verso," he continues a moment later, focusing again. "It's my turn to ask a strange question." Gustave squeezes Verso's hand in his, not releasing it.
Well, that's a little ominous. Fair, certainly, after Verso just asked him something quite personal and revealing, but ominous all the same. Obviously, he has no way to handle this save for diving headfirst into irreverence again.
"All right, I'll be your date to the victory party. It'll break Monoco's heart, though."
Gustave fixes him with a thin, strained little smile. The fact that he's struggling a bit with the next part is incredibly transparent, but he's been galvanized slightly by the specificity of Verso's question.
"Maelle. She's got some kind of connection with this place, doesn't she? The way the Curator treats her, the things she sees." He's not asking for an explanation; just confirmation.
"I wouldn't know," he answers, frowning. A connection. Yes, it's clear that this place responds to Maelle, and her to it in turn. It would be smarter to lie outright and say 'no', tell Gustave that he's reading a little too far into things out of brotherly concern, but—
"She does seem to be... different," he lands on. "But I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."
"I think I'm allowed to be a little worried," Gustave says quietly, but he'll release Verso's hand then, leaning back to give some space. "Guess it's not fair to expect you to have the answer to everything."
Hand freed, Verso links his fingers together in his lap. Of course Gustave is allowed to be worried, but he has no reason to be. Maelle has a connection with the Canvas, yes, but she won't experience any real harm in here. Besides, he thinks, she'll be out of here before long. He might have lied that he didn't know about her connection, but it was the truth that Gustave doesn't need to worry.
"Change, why? I kind of thought we could match for the party." Gustave reaches up to touch his own hair, and forcible redirects his thoughts away from the memory of Verso's hands in his curls. He clears his throat softly, shakes it off. "I'm alright. You know me: I'd probably explode if I stopped overthinking."
This is the point where Verso would offer to help empty Gustave's mind, but he's trying very hard not to go back on his word. Honestly, they shouldn't even be talking at all — whenever they do, Verso leaves feeling slightly more attached. He's not so good at the self-discipline thing, as it turns out.
"It'll be all right. I have a good feeling about this."
Gustave isn't sure if he's relieved or disappointed when Verso doesn't. Both, maybe, and it's a confusing collection of emotions to hold onto at once.
"Well," he starts, then smiles a little wryly down at his own hands. "Thank you for the platitudes, at least. They're appreciated." He pauses, then adds: "That's Esquie calling you, isn't it?" It absolutely is not, but he's pretty sure he's developing a pretty reliable sense for when Verso is going to find any excuse he can to flee a conversation. Gustave is trying to tease him and give him an out all at once.
It isn't Gustave's intention, he knows, but it feels a bit like being dismissed. It's a reminder, anyhow, that he's behaving foolishly by trying to get closer to Gustave when they'll both fade into nonexistence in what's likely to be a couple days' time at a maximum. There is no future for this.
"I guess it is," he says after a moment, standing to remove himself from the conversation. He doesn't really want to go, but he probably should. Squeezing Gustave's shoulder, he adds, wryly, "Try not to explode before we reach the Monolith."
Everyone runs out of time eventually, some sooner than others. It's selfish to wish for more when he knows that if someone is to be left behind, it probably won't be him.
He seems a little surprised by the hand on his shoulder, and he suppresses the impulse to reach up and touch it with his own. "No promises," he says, half-smiling at his own lap. "Haven't found a way to relax half as effective as you yet. Might take some experimenting."
Being an inventor and all. Experimenting must be his bread and butter. There are two very lovely women he could experiment with across the camp, in fact, but Verso has a feeling Gustave's low self-esteem and awkward nature will impede that from happening. He doesn't have the right to feel relieved about that, and it's actually an awful thing to feel relieved about, but the fact remains that after a lifetime of being interchangeable with someone else, he's glad to not be so easily replaced.
A pat on the shoulder, and he retracts his hand. "I'm sure you'll think of something." And that's all he says before walking away, although he refuses to acknowledge it as fleeing.
"Coward," Gustave murmurs as Verso goes, and he himself is uncertain about who he's talking about. He doesn't mean to look as disappointed as he feels, and he schools his expression quickly. He's lonely, as irrational as it is, had forgotten how much comfort he took in the affectionate touch of another person. It feels now like it's being dangled mockingly out of reach; Verso claims to be interested, but remains unyielding.
Verso had been fine with allowing Sciel to distract him. Perhaps he simply preferred intimacy with women.
Perhaps also it's a horrible idea to waste time thinking about this at all, but there always comes a point in the night when it's too late to be productive; he is going to burn all of that idle time restless and antsier than normal, double- and triple-checking supplies and preparations with the rest of the team anyway.
That's the last time Verso allows himself to get distracted by human connection. Gustave had said he'd do anything for Maelle, 'fuck the mission' included, and that's the go-ahead he needs to feel confident about his choice. It still feels like shit to watch Renoir fade away, for the record. For as long as Verso's been railing against him, there's a part of him, bigger perhaps than he would like, that still loves him. It's worse still to watch Maman struggle against what she knows to be true, see the hatred with which she looks at Maelle.
She doesn't mean it, he's convinced himself; drowning people pull others down with them. It'll be all right once she's forced to face reality, something he still doesn't quite believe they're capable of accomplishing until they have. And then— He watches Sciel and Lune embrace, happy tears in the corner of Lune's eyes that she quickly wipes away. When they return to Lumière, he watches children marvel at Esquie and Monoco. He watches it all fade away one last time.
After all of it, he's still fucking here. Speaking with Maelle without barriers for the first time is everything, but he finds himself somewhat disappointed to hear that there's no reason to destroy the Canvas anymore. Oblivion had seemed enticing, and more enticing still when he has to endure Lune's berating. One second repainted into this world, and she's already dressing him down. Maelle certainly got her essence right.
He knows when he's not wanted, so he keeps his distance for the night. Maelle has plenty to talk about with the others, plenty of stories to keep them entertained.
Gustave hates that he's shut down often enough on this Expedition that he's able to recognize its approach, but at least he's got enough warning to know he needs a few minutes alone to recalibrate. His primary focus is, of course, on Maelle, what this means for her and her future. Second comes the worry about everyone else in Lumière; third comes thoughts about the rest of the Expedition team, and then from there the million other things that have changed about his perception of their world.
He doesn't let himself dwell on Verso until it's almost too late in the night to even bother approaching. He'd lied so effortlessly and flawlessly at practically every turn; Gustave finds himself wondering despite himself if any of it had been authentic.
He isn't sure he can muster up the energy to care about feeling betrayed right now, his affect a bit flat as he stops to stand near him. "Explains the way you look at her."
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"Sorry," he says. "Idle thought. Forget I asked."
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Then, as if he didn't just ask Gustave to confess an awful truth: "It's been a long day. We should turn in."
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He splits the difference. "She's sad," he says, because it describes the both of them. "But she tries to keep up a brave face." Just like Maelle, planning a victory party to keep everyone in high spirits. "The family feud is difficult on her."
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"I was, once," he says, trying to sound light, like it's all in the past, and that he doesn't spend all day feeling as if he's miles away from both Maelle and Alicia. Like she's behind a locked door, at times both literally and metaphorically.
Then, with the sort of blasé tone that one can only have when discussing their siblings, he adds, "Our older sister would have you believe I taught her all of my worst qualities." And she'd be correct. "Everyone's a critic."
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When she'd volunteered herself for the expedition and no one had been able to dissuade her. Gustave hadn't loved that, either, but she was her own person, and he had to respect her choice.
"Verso," he continues a moment later, focusing again. "It's my turn to ask a strange question." Gustave squeezes Verso's hand in his, not releasing it.
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"All right, I'll be your date to the victory party. It'll break Monoco's heart, though."
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"Maelle. She's got some kind of connection with this place, doesn't she? The way the Curator treats her, the things she sees." He's not asking for an explanation; just confirmation.
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"She does seem to be... different," he lands on. "But I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."
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"If you keep worrying like that, your hair's going to turn white," he points out, echoing back to one of Gustave's earlier comments. Like an old mémère. "And then one of us is going to have to change."
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This is the point where Verso would offer to help empty Gustave's mind, but he's trying very hard not to go back on his word. Honestly, they shouldn't even be talking at all — whenever they do, Verso leaves feeling slightly more attached. He's not so good at the self-discipline thing, as it turns out.
"It'll be all right. I have a good feeling about this."
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"Well," he starts, then smiles a little wryly down at his own hands. "Thank you for the platitudes, at least. They're appreciated." He pauses, then adds: "That's Esquie calling you, isn't it?" It absolutely is not, but he's pretty sure he's developing a pretty reliable sense for when Verso is going to find any excuse he can to flee a conversation. Gustave is trying to tease him and give him an out all at once.
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"I guess it is," he says after a moment, standing to remove himself from the conversation. He doesn't really want to go, but he probably should. Squeezing Gustave's shoulder, he adds, wryly, "Try not to explode before we reach the Monolith."
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He seems a little surprised by the hand on his shoulder, and he suppresses the impulse to reach up and touch it with his own. "No promises," he says, half-smiling at his own lap. "Haven't found a way to relax half as effective as you yet. Might take some experimenting."
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Being an inventor and all. Experimenting must be his bread and butter. There are two very lovely women he could experiment with across the camp, in fact, but Verso has a feeling Gustave's low self-esteem and awkward nature will impede that from happening. He doesn't have the right to feel relieved about that, and it's actually an awful thing to feel relieved about, but the fact remains that after a lifetime of being interchangeable with someone else, he's glad to not be so easily replaced.
A pat on the shoulder, and he retracts his hand. "I'm sure you'll think of something." And that's all he says before walking away, although he refuses to acknowledge it as fleeing.
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Verso had been fine with allowing Sciel to distract him. Perhaps he simply preferred intimacy with women.
Perhaps also it's a horrible idea to waste time thinking about this at all, but there always comes a point in the night when it's too late to be productive; he is going to burn all of that idle time restless and antsier than normal, double- and triple-checking supplies and preparations with the rest of the team anyway.
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She doesn't mean it, he's convinced himself; drowning people pull others down with them. It'll be all right once she's forced to face reality, something he still doesn't quite believe they're capable of accomplishing until they have. And then— He watches Sciel and Lune embrace, happy tears in the corner of Lune's eyes that she quickly wipes away. When they return to Lumière, he watches children marvel at Esquie and Monoco. He watches it all fade away one last time.
After all of it, he's still fucking here. Speaking with Maelle without barriers for the first time is everything, but he finds himself somewhat disappointed to hear that there's no reason to destroy the Canvas anymore. Oblivion had seemed enticing, and more enticing still when he has to endure Lune's berating. One second repainted into this world, and she's already dressing him down. Maelle certainly got her essence right.
He knows when he's not wanted, so he keeps his distance for the night. Maelle has plenty to talk about with the others, plenty of stories to keep them entertained.
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He doesn't let himself dwell on Verso until it's almost too late in the night to even bother approaching. He'd lied so effortlessly and flawlessly at practically every turn; Gustave finds himself wondering despite himself if any of it had been authentic.
He isn't sure he can muster up the energy to care about feeling betrayed right now, his affect a bit flat as he stops to stand near him. "Explains the way you look at her."
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