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[superniceone]

(open / overflow)

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[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.

[recreatable]

"No," Verso answers, somewhere between offended that Gustave would think him so cruel as to cause poor Esquie discomfort and pleased that, well, at least Gustave cares if he is uncomfortable. Despite being the friendliest creature in the world, Esquie doesn't actually have many people who care for him, stuck on the continent with Nevrons and Gestrals. "Of course not."

Esquie finally takes a breath while Sciel goes to bring a cup to Lune, who's currently sitting with Maelle and watching this whole fiasco with horror and awe. "Verso would never hurt a friend," he assures Gustave, before— "Well."

"Anyway," Verso interrupts, clinking their cups together, a little wine sloshing out. "Santé."

[superniceone]

Esquie's aborted tangent doesn't concern Gustave as such, though it'd be a lie to say he isn't a little curious. He raises both eyebrows at Verso, but he's smiling subtly at the clumsy toast. "Tchin tchin," he agrees softly, studying the drink in the cup before having a sip. If he suppresses the fact that this was recently regurgitated, it's really not bad.

Sciel beckons them over, and it's then that Gustave seems to realise a fatal flaw in the plan. "Oh, yes. We should probably go socialise." The group of young women sitting by the fire are easily the people Gustave loves more than anyone else alive; he just wouldn't have joked about drinking at all if he were in a convival mood. He pulls a long drink from the cup.

[recreatable]

Gustave could just not, if he really wanted to. The women (and girl) would understand if he said he wanted to be alone. They might try to rope him into their impromptu party at first, but surely even they understand that someone just wants to drink in silence.

But that would require Gustave being able to say 'no' to them, which is not actually a skill Verso has witnessed yet.

"I could pretend to be drowning my sorrows by the water"—which is in character for him, he thinks—"and you could claim to be cheering me up."

When, in actuality, they'll both just be staring out at the endless horizon and drinking miserably. Fun.

[superniceone]

The conflict is briefly visible on his face. There's a quiet but unmistakable voice inside telling him not to miss gripping onto every moment of warmth and peace that they can find with both hands, that stewing quietly by the lake in his cups is a miserable way to be.

It just sounds so nice.

"For half an hour," Gustave suggests then, swirling some of the drink in his cup. "I'll have a drink, recharge, and we can come join the party. If you really don't mind me using you for an excuse."

[recreatable]

Oh, it's absolutely a miserable way to be. Unfortunately, he's talking to a deeply miserable person, so there will be no good influence here.

"I'll go brood mysteriously, then," he says as he steps away. Just in case Gustave wants to at least pretend that he has any intention of happy drinking before he joins Verso in misery.

[superniceone]

Gustave watches him go with a thoughtful frown; mostly he's just thinking about how surprised he is that Verso doesn't seem more eager to join the party himself, unaware of how the optics are actually going to do a pretty good job of helping him sell his story.

It'll be less than ten minutes before Gustave joins him by the water, his own cup of wine refreshed and a refill in hand for Verso. "Harder than I expected to convince Sciel not to come do the 'cheering up' for me," he says, chuckling wryly and offering him the second cup.