[ Verso had been braced for this, to Gustave to have questions, to want to know where he'd found all this and what it all means. He's prepared to tell him some truths, and not others. Even knowing what it's modelled on and having clear memories of living in that home, Verso has no idea why there's a version of the manor that exists disconnected from reality itself, only has theories on how it exists and what it could be. He doesn't know why the doors are scattered throughout the world, and he generally avoided them except for when they could actively be used -- the Curator was amore than enough of a deterrent, even though he also knew relying on the Curator for Maelle was his best bet.
But there's a lot he also he knows that he can't tell him, or would really rather not have to. Briefly he considers playing at surprise that Gustave might recognize the door, but -- no. It's probably okay. And sometimes, especially with Gustave, he just wants to let go of some of the damn lies. He's so tired. He just wants to be with him.
He shoots him a smile. ]
I've been around the Continent for a long time, Gustave.
[ Sixty-seven years. He's scoured just about every corner of the place just in time. ]
What's past here is a little weird, but . . . [ He turns to face Gustave fully, lifting their hands, pressing a kiss to the back of Gustave's, brushing over his knuckles. ] I don't know if we're gonna get another chance.
So just -- trust me?
[ His lips curve into a slightly more lopsided smile where they're still pressed against the back of Gustave's hand. Verso glances a bit at the gestral guard nearby, still staring off towards the village -- the gestrals are used to him, at least, know generally to leave him alone. And then he takes a step back, backing himself into the door, reaching for the handle. He pushes it open, stepping back into it, pulling Gustave with him --
-- Into a kitchen. A large one, of the size that it could almost be the kitchen of a sizable restaurant, rows of counters and sinks. There's pots and pans scattered everywhere, tableware and cutlery, and it would seem lived in and well-used if it wasn't also distinctly empty. Yet there's no real settling of dust. It's a little like this was a busy kitchen, bustling with staff, and everyone in it simply suddenly Gommaged, leaving their work behind, frozen in time.
And while this is all clearly incredibly strange, Verso seems utterly unfazed, more focused on their clasped hands, his gaze trained on Gustave's. ]
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But there's a lot he also he knows that he can't tell him, or would really rather not have to. Briefly he considers playing at surprise that Gustave might recognize the door, but -- no. It's probably okay. And sometimes, especially with Gustave, he just wants to let go of some of the damn lies. He's so tired. He just wants to be with him.
He shoots him a smile. ]
I've been around the Continent for a long time, Gustave.
[ Sixty-seven years. He's scoured just about every corner of the place just in time. ]
What's past here is a little weird, but . . . [ He turns to face Gustave fully, lifting their hands, pressing a kiss to the back of Gustave's, brushing over his knuckles. ] I don't know if we're gonna get another chance.
So just -- trust me?
[ His lips curve into a slightly more lopsided smile where they're still pressed against the back of Gustave's hand. Verso glances a bit at the gestral guard nearby, still staring off towards the village -- the gestrals are used to him, at least, know generally to leave him alone. And then he takes a step back, backing himself into the door, reaching for the handle. He pushes it open, stepping back into it, pulling Gustave with him --
-- Into a kitchen. A large one, of the size that it could almost be the kitchen of a sizable restaurant, rows of counters and sinks. There's pots and pans scattered everywhere, tableware and cutlery, and it would seem lived in and well-used if it wasn't also distinctly empty. Yet there's no real settling of dust. It's a little like this was a busy kitchen, bustling with staff, and everyone in it simply suddenly Gommaged, leaving their work behind, frozen in time.
And while this is all clearly incredibly strange, Verso seems utterly unfazed, more focused on their clasped hands, his gaze trained on Gustave's. ]