superniceone | tfln overflow / open post

Verso nudges Gustave's arm back. "I should leave you to think up your excuses," he says, hoping it doesn't sound like he's excusing himself. It's just that this is probably the first time they've had a conversation that didn't end awkwardly, and he'd like to hold onto that. "You should know that I have exacting expectations."

"Alright. Get some rest— hoping we can leave a bit early tomorrow after the late start we had today." Sure, Gustave: the late start to playing volleyball with the gestrals all day.

But his expression is fond when he looks at Verso, eyes lingering for just a moment longer than they need to. "I'll see you in the morning."

Okay, but consider: it was super important to win those swimsuits.

"Yeah," he says, pausing for a moment before he places a hand on Gustave's shoulder, thumb stroking against the fabric of Gustave's uniform for a brief moment before he drops his hand and pushes himself up, like he isn't going to be ruminating on this all night. "See you in the morning."

Oh. That little bit of unprompted physical affection is— something. Nice. Gustave had filled his life with the company of his sisters and his apprentices over the last four years, but he'd never really given himself the time to admit to himself that, yeah. He was a little lonely in certain ways, too.

Sciel isn't like Lune or Verso, doesn't particularly struggle to sleep, but she's up early the next morning if only to try to catch a moment with Verso. "You looked cozy last night," she says, voice low not to wake the others as she pulls her hair into a plait over her shoulder. "The tension was driving me a little mad, honestly."

She doesn't know if she's ever seen two people work so hard to make sure they didn't spend a second alone together.

Please. There was no tension. He was exceedingly normal about it!! Sure, he's looking at Gustave now, but only because he's drooling a little bit in his sleep.

Casually: "We bonded over our shared disappointment that you'll be off the market."

"You mean to tell me I drove the two most handsome men alive right into each other's arms? That sounds like an achievement." She ties her hair off, then reaches up to tousle Verso's.

"We are currently the only men alive"—save for Renoir, but that's a downer—"but I'll take that compliment with the sincerity I'm sure it was meant."

As for the rest, he reaches up to fix his hair before responding, vain. He considers saying something vague and offhanded, but he's trying this whole honesty thing out, so— "My arms are empty. It's just passing time."

That was, indeed, the joke, and she grins softly at his acknowledgement of it. Anyway. "I don't see why one has to preclude the other."

She glances at Gustave sleeping, and— wow, he really is drooling, huh.

"I bet he's sweet. Always thought he must be." Is she trying to gossip about the sex life of one of her closest friends? Yes, absolutely.

"Oh, he's actually incredibly disrespectful," Verso drones, deadpan. Obviously a joke; neither of them are creative enough to imagine a world in which Gustave isn't sweet.

He raises an eyebrow at always thought he must be, though, and feels somewhat vindicated in his enduring belief that every adult human in this camp would fraternize with Gustave given the chance. "If you're angling for an invitation, it's not me you'll have to convince."

"Off the market, remember?" Sciel never thought she was being particularly subtle; Gustave was just either extremely oblivious, or pretending to be so in order to avoid the awkward situation of having to turn her down explicitly. "I'm just glad to see he hasn't actually let himself turn to stone."

But this is getting awfully close to serious conversation, so Sciel will let the topic lapse. "We're off toward the Sacred River today, aren't we? I should go wake Lune."

Off the market soon. It doesn't mean she can't have a friendly threeway! But he imagines the thought of that might turn Gustave bright tomato red again, so he leaves it.

"You should," he agrees, glancing over at Lune's peaceful sleeping form. "Better that you're the subject of her morning wrath." Look, half-asleep Lune is kind of mean, and he's not brave enough to take her just-woke-up mood.

He is brave enough to stand over Gustave and nudge him with the side of his foot, though. "And here I thought you were going to get an early start."

Gustave groans quietly when he wakes, swatting at Verso's foot like he might a mosquito in the middle of the night. "I had the second watch," he grumbles a little hoarsely, blaming the fractured sleep for his sluggish inertia. He wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand and makes a face, before actually squinting up at Verso. "How'd you sleep?"

Is he stalling so he can stay horizontal just another minute? Maybe.

Verso crouches beside him and doesn't mention that Gustave still has a little bit of drool in the corner of his mouth. It's charming. Dorky.

"Knowing you were watching over the camp? Like a baby." He has insomnia, actually, and should probably take more watch so that the others can sleep, but whatever.

"Merde," Gustave mutters, "you're such an ass. There's got to be something wrong with me." And why does Verso's hair look so good this early in the morning, too? It's patently unfair; the extra humidity from sleeping so near the sea has turned his into a fluffy bird's nest.

He sits up, everything about his expression reluctant.

Verso feels the ridiculous urge to fix Gustave's stray strands of hair for him, which he does not do. Surely Maelle will notice it and bully him into fixing it himself.

"You're just now realizing?" he says, mouth turning up despite himself. There's been something wrong with Gustave this whole time, honestly.

Gustave doesn't have the same self-restraint: sleepily, he reaches up to tuck back a piece of Verso's carefully arranged hair that he'd missed after Sciel had ruffled him up a bit.

"Think I've always known, deep down," he says.

This isn't a bad way to wake up. He won't say that out loud.

He tries not to read into it. Or, more accurately, he reads into it and then tells himself not to feel any type of way about it so that his stupid little feelings don't ruin a good time.

"Well," he says, standing, "if you don't get moving, it'll be Sciel over here next, and she won't be so gentle."

He places his hands on his hips, glancing over at Maelle, who's currently being woken with a tap on the shoulder by Lune. "The Sacred River's nice. Atmospheric." Just putting that out there.

Gustave is pushing himself to his feet with an exaggerated stretch, moving to start to collecting his things. "Mmh. Looking forward to seeing it," he says, seeming almost distracted, before he adds a little more softly: "I'll bring a blanket this time. Go pack up, quit distracting me."

It's a dismissal, yes, but in the same sort of teasing tone he uses for Maelle.

Very rude. Verso grins regardless.

"I'll go distract Monoco instead," he says, shrugging. He could use the support. Effectively dismissed, that's what he goes to do, placing a friendly hand on Monoco's shoulder to check in on him while the others, Maelle included, get ready for the day.

It's not as if Gustave had ever felt an overabundance of affection for Noco, but it had felt especially cruel that he was the one real casualty they'd faced since landing. A strange little gestral, but no less worthy of life for it. He's glad for the chance to bring him back, and the Sacred River is as beautiful as Golgra is terrifying.

And he does come back, but— different. Gustave doesn't give himself the space to think about why, but it makes something in his chest burn. All of the pieces of a particularly unpleasant puzzle are laid out in front of him, and he resists instead of putting it together.

He catches Verso's shoulder during a quiet moment when everyone has mostly settled to wind down. "Hey," he murmurs, "if you need to stay with Monoco..."

"It's always... difficult," he says, not dismissive of Monoco's pain but used to it in a fatigued sort of way. After a while, it begins to feel there isn't any new experience left under the sun. Sometimes he wishes he were a gestral, and that he could be washed clean in the Sacred River, too. It would break Monoco's heart, though, so he doesn't entertain the impossible idea for long. "They never come back the same."

But that's a heavy thing to dwell on, so he rolls his shoulders back, physically and mentally shaking it off. "He'll be all right. We'll visit Noco when we can." That'll be difficult, too, but it has to be done. "Then Monoco will cry, and I'll challenge him to a duel and lose on purpose to cheer him up."

He's got this all figured out. Perks of repeating the same shit over and over again.

"—But I get it. Not exactly a turn-on." The vibe is just kind of weird and bittersweet.

Is it any different than what Maelle had done to them? After so long, could there be any guarantee that the people they'd lost could be reconstituted into who they were before? Except— no. No, if there is a time to think about this kind of thing, it isn't right now.

"Mm," Gustave says, shuttering the unease he can feel in his own face. "Come on, then. You deserve a bit of cheering up, too." He desperately does not want to be left alone with his thoughts.

Gustave's the one who looks like he could use some cheering up; there's a tense edge to that mm before he seems to push the feeling down. Pretty foolish to do in front of Verso, the reigning champion of pushing down uncomfortable feelings for the sake of keeping everyone else happy.

He wouldn't want someone to mention it to him, so he doesn't say anything to Gustave about it, either, although there's a small shift in his demeanor, a tilt of his head and a slight lean in. Activating people pleaser mode, so to speak.

"Are you going to challenge me to a duel?"

Gustave can sense there's a subtle change, though he wouldn't be able to describe it if asked. It's as if Verso is suddenly more attentive somehow, though he's never felt particularly inattentive.

"Would that cheer you up?" he asks, his eyebrows going up. "I could probably be persuaded. It has been a quiet few days, after all."

It's full of himself, but Verso's confident he could beat Gustave's ass in an actual duel. He just has such a limited skill tree.

"You had all day to think and haven't come up with a better excuse," Verso laughs. "So, yes, Gustave, I would like very much to duel you."

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