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[superniceone]

(open / overflow)

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[superniceone]

"Sure, I get it," he says, tucking the pen into his pack. He's drawn, tired; they're careening toward their ends somehow even faster than he'd anticipated. The conversation by the water just one night before feels like eons ago, somehow.

He won't choose misery on these final days - at least, not when he can help it. Gustave cracks an uneven, slightly apologetic grin at him, and tries not to feel vaguely unhinged for it. "It's because I kept kissing you, wasn't it? I can see why that might drive someone to homicide."

Okay. So maybe Gustave is having a Moment. But he's not breaking down visibly, which means he counts that as a win.

[recreatable]

Verso stares, frowning. Not in displeasure, necessarily; his brow is furrowed, nose slightly crinkled like he can't quite believe what he's hearing. Gustave, like everyone else in this camp, has plenty of reasons to be upset. Verso withheld information, which would be enough to get him kicked out of camp if he weren't the only living person with any knowledge of the Axons, but even ignoring that, there's a startling chance that Gustave will probably be dead within the week. Maybe less.

"You're— that's what you're thinking of right now? That you... kissed me too much?"

[superniceone]

Gustave presses his hand to his face again; his laugh sounds pathetic even to his own ears. When he does collect himself enough to look at Verso again, his eyes are slightly red-rimmed.

"What am I meant to be thinking about on a night like this?" There's a plea in there. "Tell me, please. I'd love to know."

[recreatable]

"I don't know." He doesn't know what someone is supposed to think of before they die, not when they actually want to live. All he's done is spend decades thinking of how much relief he'll feel right before everything ends for good.

A beat. "I'm sorry." Verso does wish things were different. Once upon a time, he'd really believed in the right to live; a painted replica of real human life, but as good as it will ever get for people like them. Corrosive, though, to the people who matter most. "I'll leave you alone."

[superniceone]

Gustave has never been especially good at schooling his expressions. He looks bothered, maybe disappointed, and he retreats a little more into himself.

"I won't ask you to stay. But I'm not asking you to go, either." He pauses, then mumbles: "Thought last night might be the safest topic to settle on."

[recreatable]

Expedition after expedition, and it never gets easier to watch them suffer and die for nothing. He'd really thought this would be the one to break the cycle. No more pain, just the comfort of nothingness.

"It wasn't... too much," he ventures, even though it feels a bit ridiculous to be talking about this now. "I liked it."

[superniceone]

It feels ridiculous to talk about anything, really. He's too emotionally strung out to keep harping on about plan or strategy; every other possible topic is meaningless fluff.

"I saw you looking over after you sic'ed Sciel on me. You're an ass."

[recreatable]

Verso actually laughs from the absurdity of Gustave bringing up such a tiny slight now. He ducks his head, shoulders shaking even though the laugh is almost silent. "Yeah," is an understatement. He's a far bigger ass than Gustave could ever know. "...But you're the one who went off with an ass, so." He shakes his head. "We all have flaws."

[superniceone]

Gustave abruptly wonders if he and Verso would have even been friends, if Verso had just been another face in Lumière. He likes to think so, but it's hard to be sure when so much of Verso's personality is a coping mechanism.

"I don't regret it." He's frowning at himself. "Was over the moon after our midday conversation, actually." It's just a shame everything went fully sideways.

[recreatable]

He feels— strangely flattered. He hadn't been hoping that Gustave had secretly fallen for him or anything, but clearly, he finds Verso somewhat appealing. Found, at least. With the way he's frowning, Verso isn't sure if he's disappointed that he doesn't regret it more.

"Anyone ever told you you have questionable taste?"

[superniceone]

Gustave snorts at the question and shakes his head no. "Never, actually." Then again, it had been Soph he'd either been with or distantly pining over for the last many years. "But it felt good to turn my brain off for a bit. All that I meant."

[recreatable]

He gets it — it had been nice to do something that hadn't felt earth-shattering, or even particularly important. Low stakes, high reward, as opposed to everything else. "...Don't know if I'd call it off." Lightly ribbing, hesitant, a little unsure. "Your face— laser focus."

[superniceone]

"Didn't want to lose face in front of the professional," Gustave murmurs, reaching up to rub the back of his own neck. He's exhausted and fidgety, not sure what to do with his hands or his mind, really. "You did talk a pretty big game." Gentle ribbing in turn. It'd been fairly obvious that it was the first time either of them had gotten off in ages.

[recreatable]

"I might have been slightly more out of practice than I let it seem," he admits. It had just seemed the right thing to do. Gustave wouldn't have wanted his vulnerability, anyway.

"But over the moon? Must not have been too shabby." Then, before Gustave can say something like it's never, ever happening again, by the way, he adds, "Probably a fluke, though."

[superniceone]

Gustave would have found his vulnerability a lot more relatable than his bravado. "Over the moon," he affirms quietly, and gives a sigh that's almost but not quite heaving. "It's not like I'm immune to the charms of the young and beautiful," he says, voice a little dry. It's more earnest when he continues. "And- being wanted. Is always a nice feeling."

[recreatable]

He lets a companionable silence fall over them, because it doesn't feel as if there's much more to say on the topic, and Gustave seems reticent on everything else. Finally: "I think three digits is the limit for young." Sure, at 99, he was practically still a spring chicken. 100, though?

Instantly, though, it feels like shoving his immortality in Gustave's very mortal face. Funny, considering Verso actually feels a flash of jealousy knowing that it will all be over for Gustave soon. "I'd trade places with you if I could."

[superniceone]

Gustave hums at that, and while it's hard to actually conceptualize for himself - a life lived so long that you're exhausted by it - he can understand in theory. "Don't think I'd be nearly as good at this kind of thing as you," he says mildly. "Leading Expeditioners around. I'm actually shocked by how poor my sense of direction is."

[recreatable]

He's only 'good' at leading expeditioners around because he has decades of experience. Some of those decades spent leading expeditioners to their dooms on purpose, although he prefers not to think about those. Regardless, Gustave would be just as good at it as he is, if not more. Less secrets, definitely; more trustworthy.

"One time I got lost and led everyone in a circle for two days," he admits. "They were... not happy with me."

[superniceone]

Verso has a way of putting other people at ease - usually - that Gustave isn't fully convinced he'd ever be able to emulate. It's true that he has no secrets, but at the same time he's not sure that he'll ever really be able to trust himself again. Not after the way he'd frozen on the beach.

Regardless, the admission makes him chuckle. "You were just getting them familiar with the lay of the land, I'm sure," he says. He hesitates, then offers: "Walked right into the wrong house the very first time I got drunk. I thought I was being sly and sneaking in without waking my family. I still maintain they should have locked their doors."

[recreatable]

A laugh. As long as they're trading embarrassing stories— "The first time I got drunk, I spent the whole night scribbling sheet music because I thought I'd come up with a masterpiece." A pause. "It was Chopsticks."

[superniceone]

Gustave laughs louder than he means to out of sheer surprise; Lune glowers softly at him from another part of the camp and he grimaces.

"Well. It is a classic for a reason," he says, shifting to face toward Verso a little more.

[recreatable]

Verso makes a face. "Still plagiarism."

He supposes that hadn't actually been his own memory, just another one he'd stolen. Does feel fitting, though. Even drunk, he's incapable of originality.

"My sister threw it away because she said she'd already paid her dues listening to me play it when I was eight."

[superniceone]

"House full of music, though. Must have been nice." He glances toward the monolith, tries hard not to dwell on all of the possibilities that had been stolen from them. Violence felt so at odds with so many of their natures; even Verso, who he'd only met out here in a world mired with violence, seemed better suited to music than combat.

Gustave sighs for the umpteenth time that evening.

"Hey. If we survive this fight against the first Axon..." 'We' meaning the original members of the Expedition, as Verso is obviously a clear bet. But he trails off, like the conclusion is obvious.

[recreatable]

It is not an obvious conclusion, actually. "Then you'll have a hell of a story?"

[superniceone]

Gustave closes his eyes for a moment. He's still easily embarrassed, but it's so much more muted than it was twenty-four hours ago.

"Then let's celebrate privately," he says finally, bluntly.