[ He'd expected to fight, once he came to the continent. Fight, climb, use his grapple, try to survive any way possibleโ all skills he'd honed for years at the Academy until they became second nature, as natural as breathing. But this... fixing things, working with his hands, improving a design... this is his actual nature, no stranger to him than the rhythm of his own pulse. He slips into the familiar flow with the rapidity of a patient undergoing hypnosis, peering down at the strangely sketched designs Karatom had left him as he studies the cannon's ignition chamber, currently separated out into pieces scattered neatly on the workbench.
Everything outside the project is a pleasant, boring hum that he can easily ignore, focused as he is on interpreting the design, Karatom's notes (such as they are), and studying the materials used. Nothing the gestrals make is delicate or precise, the way so many of his project have been, but he has to admit the thing is cleverly designed... considering its designers are a bunch of childish, bloodthirsty wooden fairytale creatures. He can see the intent at a glance, can even follow the somewhat wandering path of their iterations, but when it comes to creating greater efficiencies...
A dawning realization creeps over him, and he finally blinks, his focus lifting enough for him to realize there's a hand on his arm. How long has it been there? A few seconds?
(Even he knows it's been longer than that, maybe almost twenty full seconds.)
But the hand is a familiar one now, and so is the body that presses against his back, the voice that murmurs those amused words as Gustave huffs out a laugh, feeling a little like a man who's just woken from a long sleep. ]
Mon chevalier.
[ Teasing a little in return, even as his heart gives an almost-painful little leap in his chest. Verso has made good on his promise, even if they've only been able to snatch a few short minutes here and there since that evening by the river, and it gets a little less surprising every time Gustave opens his eyes and sees him there. Real, solid, smiling at him.
He runs a hand down Gustave's right forearm, along muscles that have grown strong from wielding a sword, from delicate work with his hands, and presses a kiss to the back of his shoulder that makes Gustave shiver. ]
Is that going to be an excuse Karatom will accept tomorrow?
[ His voice is easy, amused as he leans slightly back into Verso's chest. ]
no subject
Everything outside the project is a pleasant, boring hum that he can easily ignore, focused as he is on interpreting the design, Karatom's notes (such as they are), and studying the materials used. Nothing the gestrals make is delicate or precise, the way so many of his project have been, but he has to admit the thing is cleverly designed... considering its designers are a bunch of childish, bloodthirsty wooden fairytale creatures. He can see the intent at a glance, can even follow the somewhat wandering path of their iterations, but when it comes to creating greater efficiencies...
A dawning realization creeps over him, and he finally blinks, his focus lifting enough for him to realize there's a hand on his arm. How long has it been there? A few seconds?
(Even he knows it's been longer than that, maybe almost twenty full seconds.)
But the hand is a familiar one now, and so is the body that presses against his back, the voice that murmurs those amused words as Gustave huffs out a laugh, feeling a little like a man who's just woken from a long sleep. ]
Mon chevalier.
[ Teasing a little in return, even as his heart gives an almost-painful little leap in his chest. Verso has made good on his promise, even if they've only been able to snatch a few short minutes here and there since that evening by the river, and it gets a little less surprising every time Gustave opens his eyes and sees him there. Real, solid, smiling at him.
He runs a hand down Gustave's right forearm, along muscles that have grown strong from wielding a sword, from delicate work with his hands, and presses a kiss to the back of his shoulder that makes Gustave shiver. ]
Is that going to be an excuse Karatom will accept tomorrow?
[ His voice is easy, amused as he leans slightly back into Verso's chest. ]
That I couldn't finish because I'm too beautiful?