[ He listens, marveling, trying to picture it. In many ways, it's not so different from what he'd imagined for himself all those times he stood in the Hanging Gardens and looked out over the city, the times he traveled out to the farmlands beyond. He'd try to populate Lumiere with people, even more people than he remembers seeing when he was young: an enormous bustling world full of them, talking and laughing and arguing with each other. He tries to picture streets full of shops and customers walking in and out of them, buildings full of tenants. No one would have to leave their earthly belongings on the edge of the street for strangers to take; there would be so many people that new things would have to be made, that old ones could simply be passed down in a family.
It's all incredible enough, he muses, shifting his fingers apart so Verso's can slide between them, and that's before— ]
Gestrals?
[ It comes out on a disbelieving laugh, his eyebrows pushing up and his eyes lighting with bewildered amusement. ]
Gestrals in Lumiere? How on earth did the city stay standing? One good jump from Golgra would have the Crooked Tower collapsing completely.
[ And yet he can almost see it, too: the feisty wooden creatures with their Sakapatates and bloodthirsty readiness for a fight. Although they wouldn't have needed Sakapatates, would they? The Nevrons only came later. Of the little he knows about life before the Fracture, that impossible sense of peace and safety sometimes seems the most fantastical.
He rolls his head to look a little more directly at Verso, careful not to disturb the fingers in his hair, enchanted not just with the story he's weaving, but with the look on his face as he speaks, the tiny fond smile as he sifts back through his memories.
He must have been happy then, surrounded by beauty and life. He mentions the Conservatory and Gustave smiles, a little wistful. ]
Mon monsieur le pianiste, the Conservatory student.
[ How he wishes he could have known him then, young and vibrant and full of the things he was learning, perfecting. It's a tempting mental image, as is his casual mention of train rides through and to the city. There's a near boyish delight in Gustave at the very thought; it shines from him, filterless, as he shakes his head, rueful, wishful. ]
I've always wanted to see a working train. Or even a real one. There are only pieces left of tracks and cars in Lumiere, barely anything at all. I've had to imagine it simply based on toys.
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Date: 2025-06-11 05:36 pm (UTC)It's all incredible enough, he muses, shifting his fingers apart so Verso's can slide between them, and that's before— ]
Gestrals?
[ It comes out on a disbelieving laugh, his eyebrows pushing up and his eyes lighting with bewildered amusement. ]
Gestrals in Lumiere? How on earth did the city stay standing? One good jump from Golgra would have the Crooked Tower collapsing completely.
[ And yet he can almost see it, too: the feisty wooden creatures with their Sakapatates and bloodthirsty readiness for a fight. Although they wouldn't have needed Sakapatates, would they? The Nevrons only came later. Of the little he knows about life before the Fracture, that impossible sense of peace and safety sometimes seems the most fantastical.
He rolls his head to look a little more directly at Verso, careful not to disturb the fingers in his hair, enchanted not just with the story he's weaving, but with the look on his face as he speaks, the tiny fond smile as he sifts back through his memories.
He must have been happy then, surrounded by beauty and life. He mentions the Conservatory and Gustave smiles, a little wistful. ]
Mon monsieur le pianiste, the Conservatory student.
[ How he wishes he could have known him then, young and vibrant and full of the things he was learning, perfecting. It's a tempting mental image, as is his casual mention of train rides through and to the city. There's a near boyish delight in Gustave at the very thought; it shines from him, filterless, as he shakes his head, rueful, wishful. ]
I've always wanted to see a working train. Or even a real one. There are only pieces left of tracks and cars in Lumiere, barely anything at all. I've had to imagine it simply based on toys.