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[superniceone]

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[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.

[recreatable]

Verso doesn't show his emotions on his face the way that Gustave does, but he still can't help but raise an eyebrow. He had expected the deceit—not just about Renoir, but that he'd known another way to pierce the barrier all along and chose not to mention it—to be a turn-off, quite frankly. Then again, none of what they did last night had anything to do with Gustave being fond of his personality, so maybe it shouldn't be surprising.

"Trying to make sure I keep you alive?"

[superniceone]

Gustave had been - expecting secrets. That's not to say he was jazzed by the deception, but there were so many worse ways it could have gone. He was there with them still, fighting on their side. He had promised that Maelle wouldn't be alone when the rest of them fell. ("When, not if.")

If he's going to trust him with Maelle, then - well. He's just got to trust him, period.

"That's a bonus. But maybe I'd also just like another go at you." Accepting that he will be dead very, very soon has blunted his affect - at least for this evening. "I told you, I'm allowed to want things."

[recreatable]

Verso gives them about a 5% chance of surviving the Axon, and that's being generous. Gustave should probably focus on spending the time he has left with the people that he loves; even having this conversation is a waste.

Sure, though. If they survive the Axon, Verso will be so thrilled that he'd celebrate just about any way.

"Assuming I'm still in one piece by then. Lune might have something to say about that." She's angry. Feels like he betrayed their mission. Understandable. "I'm still working on getting her favor back."

[superniceone]

He has, and he will more. But there's something to be said about a conversation with a face you aren't already halfway to grieving. This is a nice reprieve.

"You might need more time than you've got for that. Do your best."

[recreatable]

More time than you've got is a sentence probably best left unaddressed. As he glances back toward Lune (who still looks angry) and Sciel (who doesn't), he frowns, considering the fact that, most likely, neither of them will still be around soon. It's hypocritical, given that his end goal is for just that to happen, but it's different. It just is.

"I'll take any tips you have."

[superniceone]

It was probably a dark thing to say, but what point is there in mincing words right now? "Well, believe it or not: she doesn't like being deceived." Even less of a point saying that. He sighs, tries to catch Verso's eye. "Talk to her. Own up to your mistake, if you think it's a mistake. She won't tolerate you being a liar and a coward - so prove you aren't."

He hesitates, then adds: "Please. This might actually be more awkward than this morning was."

[recreatable]

Verso opens his mouth to argue that it wasn't that awkward, but— yeah, it really was. He's not taking the blame for that one, though.

"I would have been crazy to bring up the Axons," he argues, because he still isn't sure it was so much a 'mistake' as something the Expedition didn't like him doing. "They're death traps." Then again, so is the Gommage. To them, maybe it's six of one and a half-dozen of another. "And my plan at Old Lumiere would have worked."

If not for, you know, everything that went wrong.

[superniceone]

Gustave just watches him, expression neutral, letting him finish. "I can talk to her for you if you want," he says finally.

[recreatable]

A flash of disappointment that Gustave didn't even dignify his excuses with a response crosses his face, but the expression goes quickly. "If I were going to use someone, I'd have Esquie do it." A pause, and then, a little sheepish: "Do you really think I owe an apology?"

[superniceone]

He doesn't acknowledge them because they're good points. It's good points all the way down and across - that's one of the reasons why this is all so wearying. Gustave shrugs slightly, but it's clear that he's gentling himself and his voice, even if it's not intentional. "I think, if you're trying to win her back over? It'd be a good place to start."

[recreatable]

"I was asking if you think I owe you an apology, actually." He's not sure, in truth. Technically, he withheld valuable information about what is (ostensibly) Gustave's only chance at survival. It doesn't look good for him, exactly, but Gustave doesn't seem particularly cut up about it, either, not after he'd promised that Maelle was safe.

[superniceone]

"I'm not going to lie and say I don't wish you'd told me. Told us." It's a strange and complicated situation, Gustave thinks, and doesn't quite realize yet that the dissociating he'd threatened to do the night before is mostly happening now. He looks over to the horizon, but his eyes are unfocused. "But I understand why you didn't. Do you want me to be more upset with you?"