[ Verso's step is quiet, almost silent, against the echoing of Renoir's cane in the cavern. He grits his teeth, as he watches that first blow go through the man, and the horror on Maelle's face, and his fist finds the rock before he even realizes what he is doing. He should to his plan. He shouldn't take the risk, there has already been so much time lost, and Maelle...
Maelle is the only hope he has, of freeing Maman, who has been suffering for so long, trapped without recourse.
What had Cleea said?
Useless. That's all that he is, and all that he has ever been, an echo of someone loved, and brave, and irreplaceable.
As Gustave is to Maelle, and her pain, the awareness of her pain...
He still almost takes too long to move, the crack of the fall of the artificial arm snapping him out of the last of his indecision. Nononono, Maelle's voice quivers, and Verso steps in front of his father.
Gustave lives. He hobbles, with his good arm around Maelle, to Esquie's back, and Verso turns to his father ... to Renoir once again. The words hurt. Both their words hurt, but Verso doesn't put much bite in his own.
He wants to save Maman. And he might have just surrendered his chance for it.
He sighs, picks up the arm that dropped to the ground, and starts walking towards the camp.
He may have destroyed his chance, but he'll still try. He has to. He can't... he can't just let her die. ]
Even while they had all floated away on Esquie's back and Lune had healed the worst of the wound, the trauma of being shot still lingers. Gustave will bruise and ache and slow down their progress, especially now that his arm is gone. Idly, the thought of his apprentices comes to him, of how they'll be disappointed that all their magnificent work went to waste. Couldn't even make it to the Paintress herself.
But then Gustave huffs out a humorless breath, instantly regretting it when the pain stabs him in the chest again. He grasps at his chest with his remaining hand, trying to bite back noises of pain. The others have given him space once satisfied that he isn't dead; Maelle was the last to leave his side, but now she lies curled up against Esquie's belly a short bit away, always within sight.
At least they're all safe. At least they all escaped that man. Remembering how close he had been to him, just the sight of him standing there doing nothing and yet managing to inflict such paralyzing fear, has Gustave shudder again. He could have died. He should have died. He would have had that other man not shown up. Another man in an Expeditioner uniform, though a stranger to him. Just another mystery added on top of the overall discovery that is the continent.
The monolith stands ever vigilant in the distance, still so out of reach. Gustave would find more rocks to throw, but somehow that idea has lost its appeal ever since being attacked mid-throw. Instead, he glances back toward the fire, to make sure Lune and Sciel are still there, still safe, and catches movement from the cliffside.
The man from before. The younger man.
Gustave feels a rush of fear and adrenaline and reaches out with his left arm to push himself up - ]
Merde!
[ - and hisses the curse as that arm doesn't catch him. He pushes himself up with his other arm and tries to place himself between the man and the others, despite everyone being spread out.]
[ Verso shifts slightly, resigned. A part of him is gripped with fear, illogical as it may be with Gustave as hurt, that what Julie organized will come again. But he pushes that down.
He needs to do this. There is someone so much more important than himself at stake. ]
I'm not here to fight.
[ He holds out the arm that dropped on the rocks. ]
This seemed important. I don't know if you can attach it back, but you should still have it.
[ He almost tosses it at the man, before realizing how labored his breathing is, and thinks better about even a soft blow to his chest. Instead, he holds it out. Doesn't step closer. ]
[The pain fades for a time, numbs itself so Gustave can still function, can still act as some final bastion between perceived danger and the last dregs of this expedition. But then the man speaks and there's a misplaced relief that at least someone else fucking says something instead of just staring at them all, uncaring and cold.
And his voice seems...if not welcoming, then kind enough. Almost enough for Gustave to believe him, but a stranger in a strange land is still a stranger, even if he did keep Gustave from meeting a premature end. And in his hand is Gustave's arm, which might be the most persuasive method to win him over.
If he has his arm back, he won't be half-useless. He can return home and tell the boys how their worked saved his life (up to a point). He can feel like himself again.
So he takes those few steps toward the man, shaky and hesitant as they are, and takes the proffered arm back.]
...Thanks.
[He watches the man before stepping back into the floating lamplight and turning his attention to the prosthetic, studying the socket and joint for the damage done. And there is damage there, considering he had overcharged the arm in an act of desperation. A terrible idea, in hindsight, but in the moment...
He can worry about this later. Glancing back up, Gustave ignores the other man's suggestion to rest -a correct one, he knows - and tilts his head, gesturing slightly with his disconnected arm.]
[A flurry of thoughts and ideas dances in Gustave's head, most of which end in him wondering if he actually died on that cliff. It makes sense, unlike this man's words. But then if he were really dead, would his chest still hurt so badly?
And...Expedition Zero was the only one with any survivors...
But that was sixty-seven years ago?
Gustave huffs out a laugh and turns to look out over the cliffside here, seeing the Monolith still brightly proclaiming that damning 33.]
Honestly, the disbelief should have been expected, but it lands squarely on an old wound, and Verso is glad that Gustave isn't looking at him right then.
What an auspicious start... ]
Well, if you have other theories, feel free to put them to the test.
[ He shakes himself out of it, and steps next to Gustave but not close enough to be a threat. ]
If you want to get to the Monolith... the best way is through the quarries to the North.
[When Gustave looks back over and sees the man standing just a little closer, it takes him by surprise, but he holds his ground.]
You're not old. It makes your claim a little hard to believe. What else that could mean, though? Well. You should probably ask Lune. She's got her head screwed on straight while I'm here half-thinking I'm actually dead and waving my arm about like a lunatic.
[He nearly laughs again, but decides to just...plop himself back down on the ground with all the elegance of a drunken farmer. Breathe, Gustave, he tells himself, feeling his heart begin to race as it does when even a mild panic starts to set in. He lets his prosthetic arm rest in his lap while he runs his other hand through his hair, taking a moment to realign himself.]
Sorry. Sorry. You did save me. And Maelle, and for that I'm grateful. Truly.
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timeasmymeasure
au. verso was just a little bit less of a coward.
Date: 2025-05-19 07:24 pm (UTC)Maelle is the only hope he has, of freeing Maman, who has been suffering for so long, trapped without recourse.
What had Cleea said?
Useless. That's all that he is, and all that he has ever been, an echo of someone loved, and brave, and irreplaceable.
As Gustave is to Maelle, and her pain, the awareness of her pain...
He still almost takes too long to move, the crack of the fall of the artificial arm snapping him out of the last of his indecision. Nononono, Maelle's voice quivers, and Verso steps in front of his father.
Gustave lives. He hobbles, with his good arm around Maelle, to Esquie's back, and Verso turns to his father ... to Renoir once again. The words hurt. Both their words hurt, but Verso doesn't put much bite in his own.
He wants to save Maman. And he might have just surrendered his chance for it.
He sighs, picks up the arm that dropped to the ground, and starts walking towards the camp.
He may have destroyed his chance, but he'll still try. He has to. He can't... he can't just let her die. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-20 01:29 am (UTC)Even while they had all floated away on Esquie's back and Lune had healed the worst of the wound, the trauma of being shot still lingers. Gustave will bruise and ache and slow down their progress, especially now that his arm is gone. Idly, the thought of his apprentices comes to him, of how they'll be disappointed that all their magnificent work went to waste. Couldn't even make it to the Paintress herself.
But then Gustave huffs out a humorless breath, instantly regretting it when the pain stabs him in the chest again. He grasps at his chest with his remaining hand, trying to bite back noises of pain. The others have given him space once satisfied that he isn't dead; Maelle was the last to leave his side, but now she lies curled up against Esquie's belly a short bit away, always within sight.
At least they're all safe. At least they all escaped that man. Remembering how close he had been to him, just the sight of him standing there doing nothing and yet managing to inflict such paralyzing fear, has Gustave shudder again. He could have died. He should have died. He would have had that other man not shown up. Another man in an Expeditioner uniform, though a stranger to him. Just another mystery added on top of the overall discovery that is the continent.
The monolith stands ever vigilant in the distance, still so out of reach. Gustave would find more rocks to throw, but somehow that idea has lost its appeal ever since being attacked mid-throw. Instead, he glances back toward the fire, to make sure Lune and Sciel are still there, still safe, and catches movement from the cliffside.
The man from before. The younger man.
Gustave feels a rush of fear and adrenaline and reaches out with his left arm to push himself up - ]
Merde!
[ - and hisses the curse as that arm doesn't catch him. He pushes himself up with his other arm and tries to place himself between the man and the others, despite everyone being spread out.]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-20 05:15 am (UTC)He needs to do this. There is someone so much more important than himself at stake. ]
I'm not here to fight.
[ He holds out the arm that dropped on the rocks. ]
This seemed important. I don't know if you can attach it back, but you should still have it.
[ He almost tosses it at the man, before realizing how labored his breathing is, and thinks better about even a soft blow to his chest. Instead, he holds it out. Doesn't step closer. ]
You should be resting.
no subject
Date: 2025-05-20 03:17 pm (UTC)And his voice seems...if not welcoming, then kind enough. Almost enough for Gustave to believe him, but a stranger in a strange land is still a stranger, even if he did keep Gustave from meeting a premature end. And in his hand is Gustave's arm, which might be the most persuasive method to win him over.
If he has his arm back, he won't be half-useless. He can return home and tell the boys how their worked saved his life (up to a point). He can feel like himself again.
So he takes those few steps toward the man, shaky and hesitant as they are, and takes the proffered arm back.]
...Thanks.
[He watches the man before stepping back into the floating lamplight and turning his attention to the prosthetic, studying the socket and joint for the damage done. And there is damage there, considering he had overcharged the arm in an act of desperation. A terrible idea, in hindsight, but in the moment...
He can worry about this later. Glancing back up, Gustave ignores the other man's suggestion to rest -a correct one, he knows - and tilts his head, gesturing slightly with his disconnected arm.]
You're not one of the 33s.
no subject
Date: 2025-05-20 03:27 pm (UTC)You're welcome.
[ Then his expression turns rueful, and he turns sideways enough to show his armband. ]
Expedition Zero. [ Tiredly. ] Same as him. He was our leader.
no subject
Date: 2025-05-22 12:57 am (UTC)What?
[A flurry of thoughts and ideas dances in Gustave's head, most of which end in him wondering if he actually died on that cliff. It makes sense, unlike this man's words. But then if he were really dead, would his chest still hurt so badly?
And...Expedition Zero was the only one with any survivors...
But that was sixty-seven years ago?
Gustave huffs out a laugh and turns to look out over the cliffside here, seeing the Monolith still brightly proclaiming that damning 33.]
Right. Okay. You're fucking with me.
no subject
Date: 2025-05-22 07:49 pm (UTC)Honestly, the disbelief should have been expected, but it lands squarely on an old wound, and Verso is glad that Gustave isn't looking at him right then.
What an auspicious start... ]
Well, if you have other theories, feel free to put them to the test.
[ He shakes himself out of it, and steps next to Gustave but not close enough to be a threat. ]
If you want to get to the Monolith... the best way is through the quarries to the North.
no subject
Date: 2025-05-28 08:49 pm (UTC)[When Gustave looks back over and sees the man standing just a little closer, it takes him by surprise, but he holds his ground.]
You're not old. It makes your claim a little hard to believe. What else that could mean, though? Well. You should probably ask Lune. She's got her head screwed on straight while I'm here half-thinking I'm actually dead and waving my arm about like a lunatic.
[He nearly laughs again, but decides to just...plop himself back down on the ground with all the elegance of a drunken farmer. Breathe, Gustave, he tells himself, feeling his heart begin to race as it does when even a mild panic starts to set in. He lets his prosthetic arm rest in his lap while he runs his other hand through his hair, taking a moment to realign himself.]
Sorry. Sorry. You did save me. And Maelle, and for that I'm grateful. Truly.