Gustave half-heartedly flings a palm full of sand at him at the remark. "No, I was just— I wondered if this conversation was business or pleasure, is all." He pauses, then hastily adds: "You know what I mean by that."
The corner of Verso's mouth curls up, and he flicks some sand in Gustave's direction with his thumb and forefinger. It doesn't even make it to Gustave. He lowers himself to sit, then, once he's reasonably certain Gustave isn't about to tell him to piss off.
"Just thought I'd spread the gossip," he says with a shrug, voice light. "Sciel is planning on having Maelle bring her husband back." Obviously, he's seeking Gustave's opinion on this, but he couldn't possibly say what he means.
Gustave looks slightly surprised by the news, though in truth he's more just caught off guard by hearing this through the (very short) grapevine instead of from Sciel directly.
"Pierre was a good man," he says, tipping his head back in thought. "She deserves the happiness." There are so many people gone that he'd love to see again, but there's a dull throb in his chest at the sea of cognitive dissonance in his thoughts; he's never truly grappled with existentialism before, so worried about the ones to come after that he never spares much thought for himself.
He has his own thoughts on bringing people back from the dead, but— Maelle just did it several times over, and they don't seem too torn up about it. Recreations of people from outside the Canvas are perhaps a special case.
"Are you planning to do the same, then?" Maelle would probably do it even if Gustave didn't ask. She'd do anything to make him happy. "Settle down with a brood of ten children?" That's what he wanted, as Verso recalls.
Gustave fixes him with a slightly bewildered look at the question. "I don't have a wife to bring back," he says slowly, and then seems to remember he'd talked about Sophie with him that evening with wine under the sky.
He laughs helplessly. The idea of living a normal, domestic life feels so far out of reach that it's almost cruel. "And I feel like- maybe me and Soph won't have that much to talk about these days." They had four years and an Expedition between them; he's still not on even footing with his own existence yet, quite honestly.
"Hm. Something to think about, I suppose." It's a transparent disagreement; he's not certain there's going to be enough common ground between them to rebuild a foundation. But that's a problem for a future that he's not even sure will come to pass yet, so there's little point in agonizing over it now.
"And what about you? Will you be summoning your great lost love back to your side?" He knows so few details.
Verso idly plays with the sand, letting the grains run through his fingers. It's an uncomfortable topic, and one he'd rather not dwell on. He would do anything to bring Julie back, to undo at least that great sin, but—
"She won't be by my side," he says, as vague as he can be without outright lying. If it comes to pass, if Maelle really brings her back, he supposes everyone will know what he did then. "We had an... argument, at the end."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Gustave says softly, and he means it. "Happy to listen, if you ever feel like talking about it."
But he's not looking directly at him, holding his hand up to the fire. Instead, Gustave keeps talking without really giving Verso a chance to answer, because he's aware that he's more likely to get an evasion or an excuse to leave instead of a real reply. "But Pierre coming back... suppose that's why Sciel turned down my proposition this morning."
He hadn't. He wouldn't. But after a few days, he's feeling a little petty.
Aw, Gustave is so cute. Verso doesn't believe him for a second. For the sake of his dignity, he presses his lips together and tries very hard not to laugh. There's still a sharp exhale through his (slightly swollen) nose that betrays him regardless.
"Oh, did she? Strange, you're usually such a ladykiller."
He was trying!!! He was trying so hard. It's not that he thinks he's irreplaceable but any means, but the thought of Gustave confidently waltzing up to Sciel (first thing in the morning, in fact!) to proposition her is far-fetched. Maybe if he'd told Verso he was secretly in love with her, and that he'd stammered through a heartfelt confession, that might have been more believable.
"No, it's— very plausible." It's not. "I'm beside myself with jealousy, in fact. Was that the intended result?"
Oh, it's extremely silly, and he wasn't really expecting Verso to buy in; he wouldn't have included Sciel without her knowledge if he had. But the conversation had been leaning more serious than he'd been hoping it would after an admittedly lovely day on the beach, listening to Maelle laugh more than maybe he ever has.
"Mission succeeded, then," he says a little wryly. "I hope the jealousy was appropriately unpleasant."
"Horrifically," he says with a hand over his heart. "I may never recover."
It had been an out for Verso to escape an uncomfortable topic. He can see that — Gustave hadn't exactly been subtle with the sudden shift in subject. He does feel that he perhaps owes Gustave a little honesty, though, or at least something resembling it.
"She didn't take the immortality well," he says apropos of nothing. He's careful not to sound too upset about it; his aim isn't to be comforted. It's to show that he's trying, even if Gustave doesn't seem to think he is. "That's why we didn't work out."
Well. Trying is the key word. He doesn't need to be that honest.
The unprompted honesty surprises him a bit, and he shoots another sidelong glance at Verso, humming an acknowledgement under his breath. "I can see that being a sticking point in a young couple's relationship," he says after a moment.
He wonders how Sophie is going to take it all in if she returns. If she'll be impressed or horrified by the tales of their adventures.
"Well. I doubt you'll have much trouble finding company in Lumière," he says. "Assuming you won't prefer living amongst the gestrals."
He wrinkles his nose a little at the suggestion of finding company in Lumière, although he doesn't say anything on the subject. If he were looking for company, he would have taken advantage of Gustave's offer. It isn't even a good idea for him to go back to Lumière at all — it used to be home, but that was a long time ago, and it was a lie.
"The Gestrals have their charms." And at least then he wouldn't have to face all of the people who've lived in fear because of his family, because of him. "And I don't know if Lumière would welcome me back with open arms."
"Why would Lumière have any idea who you are if you don't tell it?" Gustave doesn't make the flat joke he wants to: that they all owe their existence to him, so gratitude should be the baseline at least. "If Maelle really has the power to do what she thinks, it's going to be— pandemonium. Who's to say you're not a favored uncle of mine from childhood?"
And, honestly: Gustave was probably the biggest history nerd in the city, and he hadn't immediately clocked Verso and Renoir as family on the Expedition together. "No offense, but you might just be overestimating how much attention the city would pay to your existence."
"You really know how to make a man feel special," he drones. It isn't quite as easy as Gustave acts; there are plenty of people who Maelle might bring back who know him, sometimes as an antagonistic figure. Is he supposed to ask Maelle to paint over them, remove their memories of him? That feels particularly dark.
It would probably be better for everyone if he hid himself away in some rarely visited corner of the continent, never to be seen again. That isn't Gustave's problem, though, so he just shrugs before cracking an amused grin.
"...Uncle Verso?" As if their relation wasn't weird enough already. Gustave's a real freak!!
"Oh, I'm not." Who would be??? But he's smiling, clearly not offended by Gustave's blunder. "After all, you've just succeeded in making me even more of a dirty old man." And it was already pretty bad before.
"Please," he groans, "if you're the dirty old man, what does that make me? You're the one who's been showing restraint." And Gustave has been pursuing like Pepe le Pew.
"You're young," he says with a cant of his head. Not by Gustave's standards, as he's one of the oldest people alive at the moment, but certainly by Verso's. "You're supposed to make bad decisions."
And Verso is definitely a bad decision. It feels less like restraint and more like waiting for Gustave to wake up and realize how venomous his existence is. It's only strange that it's taking so long.
"And as your uncle," he continues with a teasing tinge, "I'm supposed to discourage you." It's a family trait. The Dessendres are incapable of respecting anyone else's agency. He knows what's best for Gustave!
Still, he adds, "...But you'll have to start showing some restraint eventually. I'm not made of steel."
Gustave watches him in silence at that, clearly inspecting. Even knowing everything he does, Verso is an impossible puzzle to tease out. He always seems so eager to please; it would be easy to assume that much of what he'd said to Gustave had been lip service, rooted in flattery. That he hadn't wanted to make any more waves in an already turbulent sea.
So he's not sure how he's meant to that that, can't figure out if it's just further teasing or something more than that.
"It's crueler to pretend there's a chance when there isn't than to just deny it outright, you know." It's quiet, gentle. "Not saying that's what you're doing. But just in case."
Verso wants to be offended, but he isn't. It's fair that Gustave suspects that. After all, it's essentially what he did every time he pushed off their not-quite-a-relationship to 'after the Paintress'.
"Yeah. I should definitely say that there isn't a chance." Which is not, in fact, the same thing as actually saying that there isn't a chance.
"I'm doing my best to think back on what it is I could have done to deserve being treated this way by you, and I'm honestly coming up blank." It's harmless grousing, and he's turning his attention back to the fire. "Just to say, if you had any idea how— infrequently it was I made passes like that, you'd be extremely flattered."
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"Just thought I'd spread the gossip," he says with a shrug, voice light. "Sciel is planning on having Maelle bring her husband back." Obviously, he's seeking Gustave's opinion on this, but he couldn't possibly say what he means.
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"Pierre was a good man," he says, tipping his head back in thought. "She deserves the happiness." There are so many people gone that he'd love to see again, but there's a dull throb in his chest at the sea of cognitive dissonance in his thoughts; he's never truly grappled with existentialism before, so worried about the ones to come after that he never spares much thought for himself.
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"Are you planning to do the same, then?" Maelle would probably do it even if Gustave didn't ask. She'd do anything to make him happy. "Settle down with a brood of ten children?" That's what he wanted, as Verso recalls.
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He laughs helplessly. The idea of living a normal, domestic life feels so far out of reach that it's almost cruel. "And I feel like- maybe me and Soph won't have that much to talk about these days." They had four years and an Expedition between them; he's still not on even footing with his own existence yet, quite honestly.
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"And what about you? Will you be summoning your great lost love back to your side?" He knows so few details.
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"She won't be by my side," he says, as vague as he can be without outright lying. If it comes to pass, if Maelle really brings her back, he supposes everyone will know what he did then. "We had an... argument, at the end."
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But he's not looking directly at him, holding his hand up to the fire. Instead, Gustave keeps talking without really giving Verso a chance to answer, because he's aware that he's more likely to get an evasion or an excuse to leave instead of a real reply. "But Pierre coming back... suppose that's why Sciel turned down my proposition this morning."
He hadn't. He wouldn't. But after a few days, he's feeling a little petty.
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"Oh, did she? Strange, you're usually such a ladykiller."
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"No, it's— very plausible." It's not. "I'm beside myself with jealousy, in fact. Was that the intended result?"
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"Mission succeeded, then," he says a little wryly. "I hope the jealousy was appropriately unpleasant."
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It had been an out for Verso to escape an uncomfortable topic. He can see that — Gustave hadn't exactly been subtle with the sudden shift in subject. He does feel that he perhaps owes Gustave a little honesty, though, or at least something resembling it.
"She didn't take the immortality well," he says apropos of nothing. He's careful not to sound too upset about it; his aim isn't to be comforted. It's to show that he's trying, even if Gustave doesn't seem to think he is. "That's why we didn't work out."
Well. Trying is the key word. He doesn't need to be that honest.
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He wonders how Sophie is going to take it all in if she returns. If she'll be impressed or horrified by the tales of their adventures.
"Well. I doubt you'll have much trouble finding company in Lumière," he says. "Assuming you won't prefer living amongst the gestrals."
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"The Gestrals have their charms." And at least then he wouldn't have to face all of the people who've lived in fear because of his family, because of him. "And I don't know if Lumière would welcome me back with open arms."
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And, honestly: Gustave was probably the biggest history nerd in the city, and he hadn't immediately clocked Verso and Renoir as family on the Expedition together. "No offense, but you might just be overestimating how much attention the city would pay to your existence."
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It would probably be better for everyone if he hid himself away in some rarely visited corner of the continent, never to be seen again. That isn't Gustave's problem, though, so he just shrugs before cracking an amused grin.
"...Uncle Verso?" As if their relation wasn't weird enough already. Gustave's a real freak!!
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"...I heard it as soon as I said it," Gustave says with an embarrassed grimace. "I was hoping you'd be nice enough to just let that one slide."
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And Verso is definitely a bad decision. It feels less like restraint and more like waiting for Gustave to wake up and realize how venomous his existence is. It's only strange that it's taking so long.
"And as your uncle," he continues with a teasing tinge, "I'm supposed to discourage you." It's a family trait. The Dessendres are incapable of respecting anyone else's agency. He knows what's best for Gustave!
Still, he adds, "...But you'll have to start showing some restraint eventually. I'm not made of steel."
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So he's not sure how he's meant to that that, can't figure out if it's just further teasing or something more than that.
"It's crueler to pretend there's a chance when there isn't than to just deny it outright, you know." It's quiet, gentle. "Not saying that's what you're doing. But just in case."
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"Yeah. I should definitely say that there isn't a chance." Which is not, in fact, the same thing as actually saying that there isn't a chance.
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btw i initially read this as gustave offering verso a piece of chewed up fruit jerky
you can't prove he didn't
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fuck don't look at me
now all of china knows that was gonna be your first sentence
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