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[superniceone]

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[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."

[superniceone]

It is actually, genuinely absurd that he is even capable of feeling self-conscious at this point in his life. Gustave laughs under his breath at himself, passing the journal with pages filled with his neat but cramped print over.

"Sure." The words are written with his target audience in mind. Never embellishments, but certainly flourishes at times, the tone mostly awe-filled and curious.

And much kinder to Verso than his initial borderline frosty reception had been. Gustave has written about his prowess in battle and how much invaluable knowledge he must have, though he keeps personal opinion and speculation off the page. It's meant to be a record of events, not his feelings, and he is quite good at separating the two.

"Are you satisfied now?"

[recreatable]

He absolutely can be a hundred and still feel self-conscious, thanks. Don't you ever underestimate him.

The parts on Verso are certainly relevant to his interests—it's nice to read about himself from the perspective of someone who doesn't have any preconceived notions of who Verso is—but he finds himself flipping back to previous pages to view what Gustave said about other things. Nevrons, the Gestral Village, the Grandis. There's little excitement left in these things for him, but Gustave describes this world like it's wonderful. Verso's almost a little jealous of the ability to see it as anything but a gilded cage.

"You wrote that gestrals can't speak human language." A rude thing to point out; at the time Gustave wrote it, he had no evidence to the contrary. "They can. With a good enough teacher."

[superniceone]

Rude to some, maybe, but Gustave doesn't take the correction as criticism. His eyes and thoughts are turned often enough to the future and its horizons that his pride isn't at all a factor when it comes to recordkeeping. "Oh- very good shout. I'll revise that tonight." He's choosing not to comment on the good enough teacher for now, but it's definitely tucked somewhere in reserve.

He chews thoughtfully on a bit of that evening's rations. "You're welcome to provide further feedback. If you spot any other mistakes, I mean." Maybe if he plays it cool enough Verso will miss how hopeful Gustave is that he'll agree to be his professional editor, apparently.

[recreatable]

Nope. Verso's absolutely not missing it.

"Oh, now I see," he says, doing his best to sound betrayed. "You just want to put me to work." He's not talking to Verso because he likes him, as previously accused, but because he's the perfect fact-checker for Gustave's magnum opus.

He can't blame Gustave, actually. It's a smart move. At least, it is while he doesn't realize that Verso doesn't intend for anyone to ever read this. Gustave could write that the sky is pink and the clouds are made of cotton candy, and it would make no practical difference.

"Well, I'll have you know I won't work for anything less than a red pen."

[superniceone]

Equally smart of Verso not to give any sign that he's dismissing the significance of his little project, either. Gustave is stubbornly determined not to give up on the future of this world -- at least not for now, not knowing what he does currently.

The answer gets a beleagured sort of sigh out of Gustave. "You're really wearing me out with all of these demands. I suppose you'll be wanting a living wage next." Idly, he offers out a palmful of the scavenged berries he's snacking on next; they're just flavour more than anything of real substance, tart and a little underripe.

[recreatable]

Underripe as they may be, Verso does take one and chew on it while he continues flipping through the journal. The pages are packed, Gustave's handwriting narrow and crowded like he's desperate to get every bit of information that he has in his brain out onto the page. Not uninteresting, exactly—although none of it is news to Verso, he can appreciate the sense of amazement underscoring each word—but definitely dense. Reading it, it's like he can feel Gustave's desperation to pass something on wafting up from the pages themeslves.

"This is... detailed." He's surprised that with all this fervent writing, Gustave's hand hasn't cramped up too much to use his longsword.

[superniceone]

The journals may not contain many of his innermost thoughts, but that doesn't mean writing in it hasn't helped arrange them. There is an element of helplessness driving it, too, though he's entirely unconscious of it. He'd been so hopeful, so certain until the moment they'd landed on the beach, and now -

Well. At least it would be something. The Lumina Converter would probably always be his most objective legacy, but it was impersonal, born out of desperation and necessity, not simply a desire to create and share.

Gustave holds his hand out at the remark; not demanding it back, but offering to take it if Verso is finished skimming. "Not much else to do when I'm having trouble sleeping."

[recreatable]

There are other things to do when you can't sleep. Brooding, for one. Verso would know. But maybe this is Gustave's form of brooding; maybe instead of melancholic poetry and inconsolable screeds, he channels his feelings of hopelessness into creation instead.

It fits. This is the man who said 'I should be doing something more productive', after all.

"Insomniac, huh?" he asks, casual and congenial as he hands over the journal, like he hasn't noticed when he, too, is awake. That would be a little too 'I saw her at the devil's sacrament'. "I'd ask what ails you, but..." A vague gesture toward the world at large. "I'm guessing the answer is everything."

[superniceone]

Gustave hums, a sound of agreement if only because verbally acknowledging how absolute shit the crumbling world around them is only going to make it even harder to sleep tonight.

"Not like journaling is my first choice of pastime, you know." He drags his fingers though his hair in a restless sort of gesture, leaves it messier than it had been before. "What I'd like to do is get blisteringly drunk and dissociate by the water for a few hours. Unfortunately, alcohol was left off of our ship's manifest."

[recreatable]

A beat passes. Verso's gaze drifts off to the side. They were all going to find out eventually; he might as well fess up to his biggest secret now.

"It's possible that I... might be in possession of some wine."

[superniceone]

Gustave had only admitted that because he'd been absolutely certain that he'd never have the opportunity to give into that temptation.

He stares at Verso, clearly conflicted. "... you should guard that information with your life if you want to keep it," he manages finally.

[recreatable]

Verso tilts his head during the pause, as if trying to puzzle Gustave out. He hadn't expected Gustave to jump for joy, exactly, but he had expected something along the lines of a shove and a when were you planning on sharing?

Never, quite frankly. Drinking with someone is terrible for 'not getting attached'. But then Gustave had mentioning drinking himself into oblivion and dissociating by the water, and that same desire in himself had recognized its twin, and he'd felt, perhaps, like he shouldn't deprive a man awaiting execution of momentary relief.

"Right," he says back, expression disbelieving. "Well, if you aren't interested..."

[superniceone]

"No, I didn't mean- It's not that I don't-"

Gustave makes a face, cutting himself off with a little wave of his hand. His kneejerk reaction was that it'd be irresponsible, dangerous - both tonight and for the day to come, if they were stumbling around dangerous nevron territory with a hangover. But that's an extreme conclusion to draw from an offer of wine, and he rubs the side of his neck, cracking it as he deliberates.

"Just make sure Sciel and Lune are aware that the offer's there. They'd throw us both off a cliff if we had a glass without them, and only one of us would bounce back from that."

A glass. Just one, small, responsible cup full.

[recreatable]

Yeah, that's what he thought.

Verso stands, dusting off his pants before holding out a hand to help Gustave up off the ground. As he does so, his gaze wanders toward the fire, where Esquie and Sciel are animatedly chatting. He's pretty sure he hears the words and then Verso... coming from Esquie, and cringes a little knowing that he's probably recounting an embarrassing story.

"That won't be a problem. It's not exactly in an... inconspicuous place."

[superniceone]

Gustave takes the offered hand and pulls himself to his feet with a murmured noise of gratitude. He overhears the same thing, shooting a sidelong look at Verso, mouth crooked into a slight grin. "He's extremely fond of you, isn't he? It's - wholesome."

And he'll continue to believe that until the moment he sees Esquie projectile vomiting wine.

[recreatable]

"We've been through a lot together."

Even if they hadn't, he's not sure Esquie is capable of not being fond of him. He was created to be a friend, someone to cheer Verso up when he felt down. Now this Verso reaps the benefits.

Besides, Esquie is fond of everyone. Verso says as much as he rifles through their belongings and presses a cup into Gustave's hand. Not a fancy glass, unfortunately, but a receptacle is a receptacle. "But he's fond of everyone. I once saw him try to befriend a Bourgeon."

And, yeah, it was cute. Until it tried to eat them, anyway.

Esquie seems to be thinking of the same story, because when he makes his way over, Esquie exclaims, "Verso! I was just telling Sciel about the time you got eaten by a Nevron and came out all gooey and ooey—"

Verso cringes again. "I don't remember that."

[superniceone]

"Sounds extremely traumatic," Sciel adds cheerfully, "but he hasn't told me yet which end you escaped from." She lifts a hand to wave at them both as they approach, shooting Gustave a curious look when Verso hands him the cup.

Gustave just shrugs at her in return, mystified, and indicates Verso with it. "He claims he's got a bit of wine to share with us, so I'm here to investigate."

Is Esquie going to summon it from somewhere? Lead them to a secret cache? It's almost as interesting as the promise of alcohol itself.

[recreatable]

Sciel gasps. "And you've only just decided to cough up that information now?"

"Right," Verso says, moving swiftly along from disgusting stories and very true accusations of keeping things from them. (If only she knew.) "Esquie, do you remember what I gave you?"

"The wine you told me not to tell anyone about?" Blunt as always. Esquie turns to his non-Verso friends, saying very loudly, "I think Verso wanted to keep it all to himself because wine makes him cry, but crying with friends is good!"

Verso stares, unable to say anything besides, "Yeah. That wine." He holds out his cup. "You can share it now."

"Oh, good. I don't like keeping secrets from friends." That feels a little pointed, but Verso ignores it, and a moment later, there's a horrible, resounding BLUUGHHH as wine shoots out of Esquie with alarming force.

[superniceone]

Speaking of coughing things up.

Gustave had been halfway to giving Verso's shoulder an awkward, consoling squeeze when Esquie blithely broadcasts that horrifyingly personal information - but Esquie is spewing wine a second later. Gustave is shocked into abrupt motionlessness.

"-what," he says, mouth slightly agape, and then, more emphatically: "What? You filled Esquie with wine?" Even Gustave can't decide if he's awe-struck or fully indignant on Esquie's behalf.

While he decides, Sciel is just plucking the cup from his hands to fill it for herself.

[recreatable]

"Where else would I put it?" Verso asks. It's not like Esquie's using all that storage space in there. Besides, when he feels like drinking, having Esquie dramatically spit the wine out lifts his spirits. Sort of.

"It feels funny, but that's okay," Esquie chimes in before starting up again, like a very inelegant wine fountain. Little Verso probably wasn't thinking of this function when he first painted Esquie.

Verso quickly places his own cup underneath the geyser. "Hey, it doesn't go on the ground, remember?"

[superniceone]

"Wow," Gustave starts, then shakes his head, repeats: "Wow. This is - the worst thing I've seen in a minute." And yet, the engineer inside of him is fascinated, and the force of the surprise isn't enough to prevent him from retrieving another cup almost guiltily. "It's not... uncomfortable for him, is it?"

He'd ask Esquie directly, but he's busy burbling up wine that Gustave is tentatively trying to catch himself.