superniceone | tfln overflow / open post

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."

"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.

"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?"

"Not particularly."

But it feels strange that he isn't. Sciel had been the most understanding of them all, but there hadn't been this strange undercurrent to it all. Death is a friend who will welcome me home, she'd once said, but he doubts Gustave shares the same sentiment.

"—But you can still stab me a few times, if it would make you feel better. On the house."

Gustave is pretty sure the emotion he's feeling is grief, but he's not sure. It's strange to be uncertain after spending so much time intimately familiar with the emotion, but introspection is difficult. He thinks of all the things he could have done differently in his life, but he's not sure any of the deviations would have mattered. All roads led to here.

He'd been so sure that he was going to make a difference. That he would have an impact on preserving this world for future generations. His ears are ringing just slightly.

"Or you could just stab me," he says, uncharacteristically bitter. "Get the waiting over with."

Well, there it is. Verso feels like shit, of course, because Gustave wants so badly to live, and— well, there's a hundred different reasons that fact could make him feel like shit, but mostly because he knows there's only one way this ends, and it isn't Gustave back in his workshop making the world a better place.

He's inclined to place a comforting hand on Gustave's shoulder, but he doesn't know if it would be welcome, so he resists the urge. Instead, gently, he says, "You don't want that."

"I don't think the world has ever cared much about what I want." He can feel his eyes burning, and it's enough to snap him out of it - or, well. To at least let better sense surface for just a moment.

Gustave breathes, holds it.

"Sorry. The atmosphere is gloomy enough without my adding to it."

"It's okay." Nothing about this is probably okay, but he's said it a thousand times to comfort Alicia; it's second nature by now. "Everyone deals with it differently." It's not his first time being surrounded by doom and gloom, and apparently, it won't be his last. Sometimes, he convinces himself that that's all this world is.

"...But you're still here now," he adds, an attempt to soothe. Again, second nature, some sort of intrinsic, burning desire to make a shitty situation feel better. It feels a bit like comforting a wounded animal before putting it down. "You have today."

Gustave can't decide if he appreciates the platitude or if it chafes at him. It can't be easy for Verso, either; he and Monoco must have said goodbye to a countless stream of Expeditioners. No wonder he hadn't told the truth. It probably got exhausting to do it over and over and over again.

"I think - I might ask Lune and Sciel what they think of heading to the Visages with me." With just him, he very clearly means.

"If someone's going to stay back with Maelle, it should be you." Not objecting to the idea on its merits, but from a purely pragmatic perspective. Objectively, Verso is a better asset to the team. He has more years of experience with expeditions than Gustave has even lived, and even if he didn't, someone who simply cannot die is more useful in a battle than someone painfully mortal. And, he notes, trying not to sound bitter, "She'd never stay behind if it wasn't with you."

"I wasn't planning on letting Maelle know." He glances at Verso, his expression clearly uncertain about his own half-baked plan. "Sorry, I thought that was implied."

Incredibly half-baked. "She'd start swimming to you the moment she noticed you were gone."

"Which is why I was hoping you'd agree to stop her." It's cowardly. He knows it. He couldn't do it - but god if he doesn't wish he could. "Fucking- I hate this."

Verso does reach out to place a hand on Gustave's shoulder then, although it's light, ready to be shrugged off if the action rankles. "She'll be all right."

Maelle's safety isn't the only issue here by a long shot, but it is one that he can actually do something about. There are many things worse than death, but they won't happen to her as long as he's here. "No matter what, I won't let anything happen to her." Protecting their little sisters is what big brothers do; it's what he was made to do.

Lune had asked him not long ago if he'd still believed that the future of Lumière was more important than a single life. It's only right now that he's able to admit that he doesn't; right now, he's just deeply, deeply grateful that there's someone in this camp who seems to be on the same page as him, and doesn't think less of him for it.

He leans slightly into that hand, reaching up to cover it briefly with his own and to squeeze it gratefully. Gustave allows the moment to wash over him, to pass, and then gently shakes it off. "I'm gonna get ready for sleep. You... should talk to Lune before you miss the chance."

It sounds, to Verso's ears, like Gustave wants to brood alone. After a lingering moment, he removes his hand and glances back at Lune. "Yeah." He's going to have to prostrate himself before her a little bit, he thinks, even if he doesn't entirely feel that he should.

He stands, taking a step away, then pauses to look back at Gustave. It feels like he should say something that will fix this all somehow, but nothing comes. He plods away to Lune.

Gustave's idle perimeter check is as much an opportunity to allow his brain to decompress than anything else. In another world, he likes to think that he and Verso would have been friends; perhaps Gustave would have been able to watch him and Lune perform together. He contemplates a half dozen ways that he might take Sciel and Lune on a suicide mission with him whilst leaving Maelle in relative safety behind, and he has to acknowledge every one of them is a daydream more than an actual plan.

He doesn't seek Verso out specifically when he's decided it's safe to bed down; spends it mostly instead sharing quiet stories with the rest of the original Expedition. When Gustave finds a brief private moment with Verso, it's purely accidental. He doesn't say anything - simply leans in to rest his forehead on Verso's shoulder, allowing some of the vulnerability he's afraid of sharing with the rest of the team to seep out. It's over as quickly as it starts.

He sleeps the fitful sleep of a man certain he's walking into his own doom at sunrise - so when they achieve victory over the Visages, handily, Gustave feels a rush of something like guilt for his own extreme pessimism. There's a hopeful energy in the air that evening when they settle, a thousand conversations to be had, but not long after they finish their evening meal Gustave will approach Verso and Monoco, conversing off to the side. "Hey," he says, "let me borrow you for a moment."

Monoco is retelling his battle against the Mask Keeper with great embellishment, as if Verso wasn't there. He nods along regardless, interjecting when appropriate: "I looked cool," Monoco says. "You did," Verso agrees. He's in high enough spirits to humor Monoco; one of the Axons is dead tonight, and that means they've inched ever closer to the Paintress. Maybe, just maybe, the expeditioners won't all die horribly before they even make it to the Monolith.

He's still not counting on it, but it's nice to have a win.

When Gustave comes around, Monoco pipes up with, "I wasn't done sharing my glory in battle."

"The story will be even better the next day," Verso assures him as he steps aside. "Let it marinate."

He cants his head as an invitation for Gustave to follow him a few feet over, separated from the constant hum of excited chatter. Everyone's spirits have been lifted by the victory, apparently. Maelle is grinning ear to ear, and it makes Verso's heart squeeze in his chest to see her happy.

"All that stress, and still no white hairs," he says, mouth quirking up.

They really should have saved the wine for tonight, he thinks. The atmosphere is buoyant, relieved -- hopeful. Raising a glass in celebration would have been an ideal use, but it's too late now.

Gustave just smiles crookedly, reaching up to touch the hair atop his own head. "Give it time time to grow out. I can feel it." He hums, then adds: "Thanks for picking up my slack today." He'd had a particularly rough go of several of the fights.

It would be like him to take the compliment, earned or not, but Verso shakes his head. "You did good."

Gustave had no doubt been scared out of his wits, certain he was about to die. A few slip-ups are to be expected. He'd done it despite the fear, and that's worth something.

"Didn't even tie Maelle to a tree so she couldn't follow."

Even Lune had gotten impatient with the amount of healing she'd had to do for him - they weren't his best moments. But they'd all made it back.

Gustave laughs at that, ducking his head slightly. "Haven't found a sturdy enough tree yet. It's not off the table yet." He angles his head toward Monoco, scrubbing his fingers through his already slightly wild hair. "Sorry, I didn't mean to actually interrupt story time for long. Just wanted to get that thank you off my chest."

"He'll have embellished it more by tomorrow, anyway. Always more entertaining the second day." He speaks like he's painfully familiar with the tendency, because he is. Monoco's a showboat.

But Gustave had said he only came over to thank him, and— a sudden awkwardness washes over him. He'd been expecting something more than cursory gratitude, admittedly, and he finds himself feeling almost disappointed that it doesn't come to fruition. He shakes his head, like it'll shake the feeling out.

"Don't let me keep you, then. I'm sure you have more victory laps to do."

The drive-by nature of the conversation was mostly out of feeling genuinely bad for interrupting his conversation. "Bit tired of walking, actually," he says, similarly awkward. "Might keep you company for a bit, in that case? If I promise to be less of a complete sad sack than I was last night?"

Verso's smile tugs up a little more on one side, and he reaches out with a hand, pinky finger extended. "You're going to have to swear on that, I think."

Gustave rolls his eyes, but he reaches out to catch and squeeze Verso's pinky with his own. "Is that good enough for you?"

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