tfln overflow / open post

[superniceone]

(open / overflow)

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[recreatable]

One would think Gustave knew by now that the rules don't apply to him. He even shirks the limit of mortality, after all. But—

"Fine," he answers, waving a hand. Then: "I don't know. We weren't exactly a fish family."

[superniceone]

And, similarly - Verso should be very well aware that he was opening himself wide for the incoming question. "Alright, go on then. What kind of family were you?"

[recreatable]

Oof. Verso pauses for a moment, unsure what sort of answer Gustave expects. The kind that didn't have fish probably isn't what he's looking for, but neither is an incredibly dysfunctional one.

Finally: "We had dogs."

[superniceone]

Gustave doesn't clock it as suspicious. A tender subject, maybe, but family is tender for all of them. He's got his eyes closed, still very much awake, but clearly content to allow Verso as much time as he might want to compose an answer - or a subject change.

The answer makes him chuckle, however. "Another thing you and Lune have in common. It's no wonder she's drawn to you."

[recreatable]

He's pretty certain Lune is drawn to him because he holds answers for questions she thought would never get answered before her Gommage. She's just as wary around him as Gustave is, if not more, and their conversations always feel a little charged with suspicion. Smart woman. Too smart for Verso's own good, probably.

But it's a subject change he's happy to take, so he turns to look at Gustave with a crooked smile. "You think she's drawn to me?"

[superniceone]

Gustave's eyes remain stubbornly closed, but he somehow manages to imply that he'd be rolling them if they were open. "Oh, don't do that - thing where you pretend not to know how infuriatingly charismatic you are. I've known your type. It's not as cute as you think it is."

It's a form of deflection in its own right, just like everything else is, of course.

[recreatable]

Gustave doesn't like when he's cocky, and doesn't like when he's modest. A difficult man to please, although Verso is sure Gustave would deny it. He'd probably say something like Have you seen me? I'm exceedingly easy to please. You could set me on fire and I'd apologize.

Something like that. He'd probably babble more.

He looks back up to the stars for this next one, a smug lilt in his voice. "Just a little bit cute, then."

[superniceone]

Gustave is still feeling Verso out, which is what he'd blame his vaguely mercurial responses on if he were confronted with them. At the same time - it would also be a lie if he tried to pretend their conversation tonight hadn't sanded down some of the roughest edges.

It's probably why the smugness in Verso's voice makes him snort instead of irritating him outright. Gustave holds his hand up into the air, indicating the width of maybe an inch between his thumb and index finger. "The littlest bit."

[recreatable]

"I'll take it."

Gustave probably wouldn't have given him an inch a few days ago, and Verso's very good at pushing an inch into a mile, bit by bit. He's had a lot of practice. For now, though, he just lifts up his head for a moment to make sure that Lune isn't actually standing right behind them, arms crossed and face disapproving, before settling back down.

"You and she haven't ever...?"

[superniceone]

Gustave thinks back to his final walk through the city with Sophie, the conversation she'd tried to start. His throat goes tight; he takes a moment to breathe, allows the grief wash over him and pass.

"She's an extremely dear friend," he says, his brow furrowing with the answer. "But I'm not her type. If that was you asking for my - blessing." Lune is a grown woman and they collectively face death daily; he's not going to judge.

[recreatable]

Well, that was a suspiciously delayed answer. Whether it's due to Gustave having some sort of secret, repressed affection for Lune or something else entirely, he can't say. He wouldn't be surprised; Lune is intelligent, beautiful, and driven. Hard not to feel drawn to her.

"I think she'd kill me if I asked for someone's blessing."

That wasn't what he was doing, regardless. Just feeling out the dynamics. He'd thought, perhaps, he'd picked up on something there.

[superniceone]

"You're not wrong there." Gustave plucks at the grass by his side again, an almost idle attempt to ground himself. Lune is stunning in every conceivable way, anyone with eyes knows that, but Gustave would need to be just a fraction less focused internally - or just less oblivious in general - to notice her interest in him.

"She might behead us both just for having this conversation."

[recreatable]

Very true, actually. Lune would probably lecture them, at the very least, ending with an assertion that they've ensured she isn't interested in either of them, thanks. Better to keep this between them, if they don't want to be fielding dirty looks for the rest of the journey.

"Yeah, well, one of us can survive that." There's that smugness again. "I'll miss you, though."

[superniceone]

"You know, I wouldn't mind if you made the slightest effort to sound sincere." Gustave turns to look at him, frowning contemplatively. "Maelle gets my journal. Esquie can have my arm - I feel like he'd really appreciate it." A thoughtful pause, and then: "Please just keep Monoco away from my feet. None of us need that."

[recreatable]

Guilty. Verso didn't sound sincere at all.

The journal is understandable, and the mention of giving Esquie Gustave's disembodied arm makes him raise an eyebrow—what the hell is Esquie going to do with that?—but it's the mention of Monoco and his feet that makes Verso laugh. Full circle, huh?

"What skill would he gain from your feet? Debilitating envy?"

[superniceone]

Gustave points at him as if to say see, you understand. "That's exactly what I said: no one needs that." He can't say that he really understands the friendship between Verso and the gestrals, but neither does he understand what it must be like, trapped on this island with nothing but time.

"I've really sold myself as a valuable member of this expedition to you, haven't I," he muses quietly.

[recreatable]

Verso's smile falters.

"I think you're a valuable member of this expedition."

Admittedly, he'd done the math and figured that he could cover for Gustave's skillset if he allowed Renoir to get rid of him. In the end, he'd only let Gustave live because he couldn't bear to see Maelle so griefstricken. But he hadn't even spoken to Gustave then, and now that he has, it would be harder to let something happen to him. Something before the simultaneous nonexistence that'll come for them all at the end of this, anyway.

It would be deranged to say something like that, so instead, he says, dryly ribbing, "Big slacker, though. You really should be doing something more productive right now."

[superniceone]

Gustave might never know just how close he was to was to a (slightly) premature nonexistence. It certainly doesn't seem to occur to him now, close enough to see the way Verso's smile had gone weak, and he suppresses the urge to talk about it. Maybe they've had enough deep conversation for one night.

"I do owe Sciel a chat before we all turn in," he says, only now seeming to realize how late it is. He pushes himself up, shaking his jacket out. "But I'll have that journal with me the next time I corner you like this. Best prepare yourself."

[recreatable]

"Oh," he says, surprised at Gustave's sudden departure but quickly recovering, sitting up himself. "Yeah, I think Esquie was looking for me." He wasn't. But then again, Esquie is always eager to talk to him, so if you squint, it's the truth.

Verso runs a hand through the back of his hair, cleaning away bits of grass and dirt from lying on the ground. Vain. Gustave has a blade of grass sticking out right above his ear, but he doesn't say anything.

"...Make sure you do that editing pass, first. Get rid of anything too withering about me."

[superniceone]

Gustave watches the way Verso fusses over the detritus in his hair. His expression is somehow both amused and also likely just a little more intense than he means for it to be.

"Don't worry," he promises, slipping his arms into the sleeves of his jacket. "I'll bring a red pen for you."

[recreatable]

"Thanks," is Verso's wry response as he stands up, dusting off his clothes.

Maybe he should say 'nice talk' or something. It feels as if they've grown a little closer, perhaps — that Gustave has grown a little fonder of him, that is. He's still determined not to get attached to these expeditioners; 67th time's a charm, so they say. It's all just a means to an end, nothing more. No point in making friends when they have an expiration date, he tells himself.

No reason Gustave can't enjoy himself before that comes, though, so Verso cants his head toward Sciel before leaning in. "Ask her if she'd like to reenact Expedition 60 with you."

Gustave, of course, is far too skittish for that. But it's a suggestion all the same, and he absconds to Esquie's side before Gustave can argue.

[superniceone]

Gustave flusters at that, visibly annoyed when Verso flees to the safety of Esquie's company. When he swings round to catch up with Sciel, he does not once suggest frolicking in the nude with her, because he's got decorum, Verso!!

The next night at camp, Gustave parks next to Verso, journal and pen in hand. "Couldn't actually find a red one, sorry," he says by way of greeting. "You'll have to settle with blue."

Does he trust Verso on a personal level? No, of course not, he barely knows the guy. But he's shown up, fights for and with them without complaint, and that by itself is probably enough for a little less suspicion in the evenings.

[recreatable]

Gustave sits beside him like they have an appointment. He'd said 'the next time', but Verso hadn't exactly expected that to be the next day. He blinks at Gustave, then down at the journal in his hands, and then back up again.

"If you keep talking to me every night like this," he says, droll, "you're going to make me think you like me."

Perish the thought, of course.

[superniceone]

Gustave stares at him for a moment, confused by his surprise. It's not as if there's a thriving social scene out here in the middle of nowhere - was he meant to be avoiding him? Neither can he quite get a read on Verso's actual mood through those words.

"I can buzz off if you're preoccupied with something," he says, the end curling into a question. He can read most of the Expedition members like a native language, but Verso and Monoco remain opaque.

[recreatable]

Verso doesn't look preoccupied. He's not doing anything at all, in fact, and just finished yukking it up with Monoco (who's currently showing Sciel a new fighting technique he claims he invented).

"I was being charmingly irreverent." A beat. "Or, it seems, just... irreverent."

Kind of embarrassing, actually. Eager to move on from that, he holds out a hand. "Let me see your journal."