[ Verso is long used to the bodies, by now. He's buried so many people, hauled their petrified bodies to the best graves he could dig. He's seen so many die that he couldn't possibly bury, frozen where they are, petrified into rock and earth even as they're twisted into shapes of screams and pain in their final throes. He can't quite unsee them, anymore. Every now and then he looks at something and realizes he's been leaning into a mass of bodies rather than a cliff face, and that if he thinks far enough back he might even remember who might be in that wall, and -- he's still numbed to it. He has to be.
Seeing it play out on another person's face is different. Especially when that person is Gustave, whose face he's seen in his dreams and in his thoughts over the past years, whom he remembers with smiles and laughter and the light of being alive. Even now, in a state of clear shock, he can see the way his expression shifts, the way his demeanor changes, the first time he sets down his foot and realizes that what splashes up is something deep crimson-red.
Gustave continues. Verso follows. He picks up the trail he was looking for -- definitely the Expeditioner he's been tracking since the beach, it's fresh, within the day ( unlike the other trails it's overlaid onto, a thousand different paths that came and ended here ). Finding Gustave one of his tea is probably the best thing Verso thinks he can do. But it only takes a following that track just a bit further into the cave for him to have a quiet, sinking realization about what must've happened, and soon enough, as Gustave is staring up at the strange fleshy mass with tendrils that curve like branches through the air, Verso sees it. There's one body, tucked in among the rest. The color still hasn't completely left her skin.
Verso draws a breath. Unfortunate. He thinks there were more trails from the beach; if he can get Gustave somewhere safe enough, guide him to the rally point, it might be worth going back to see if there's still anyone that can be saved. Gustave's found the woman's body, now, and Verso watches, can't see his face.
A ripple of unease, when he watches the man turn and sit down. He sees the flash of chroma, the gleam of metal being summoned into his hand. And then --
Verso feels his blood run cold. He's moving before he realizes it, before he can even think as to what the consequences might be, because the consequences for inaction would be far, far worse, not when he's here, not when he can do something about it, not when Gustave deserves so much better than -- this. Gustave's eyes are closed, looking almost peaceful except for his slightly shuddering breaths, and he doesn't know how Gustave is going to react to seeing him but it doesn't matter, because he can't let this happen --
Suddenly, Gustave isn't alone anymore. There's a hand, wearing an Expeditioner's fingerless gloves, warm and steady and firm, closed over the Gustave's where he's holding that pistol. He doesn't try to wrench his hand away or force it ( but there's a part of him ready -- ), just makes sure he can feel his presence, and his other hand is curving his fingers gently under Gustave's jaw, cradling his cheek against the heel of his palm. ]
No.
[ Quiet, gentle -- he knows, he knows -- but firm. Verso is crouched on one knee in front of him, looking straight into Gustave's eyes. He's wearing an expedition uniform, worn and old but clearly his own, parts of his uniform and skin splattered with blood. ]
Gustave. [ A bit more urgency, now -- it takes effort when his heart is racing so fast that he can hear the blood roaring in his ears, but he keeps his voice soft. ] You're not done yet.
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Date: 2025-05-30 07:24 pm (UTC)Seeing it play out on another person's face is different. Especially when that person is Gustave, whose face he's seen in his dreams and in his thoughts over the past years, whom he remembers with smiles and laughter and the light of being alive. Even now, in a state of clear shock, he can see the way his expression shifts, the way his demeanor changes, the first time he sets down his foot and realizes that what splashes up is something deep crimson-red.
Gustave continues. Verso follows. He picks up the trail he was looking for -- definitely the Expeditioner he's been tracking since the beach, it's fresh, within the day ( unlike the other trails it's overlaid onto, a thousand different paths that came and ended here ). Finding Gustave one of his tea is probably the best thing Verso thinks he can do. But it only takes a following that track just a bit further into the cave for him to have a quiet, sinking realization about what must've happened, and soon enough, as Gustave is staring up at the strange fleshy mass with tendrils that curve like branches through the air, Verso sees it. There's one body, tucked in among the rest. The color still hasn't completely left her skin.
Verso draws a breath. Unfortunate. He thinks there were more trails from the beach; if he can get Gustave somewhere safe enough, guide him to the rally point, it might be worth going back to see if there's still anyone that can be saved. Gustave's found the woman's body, now, and Verso watches, can't see his face.
A ripple of unease, when he watches the man turn and sit down. He sees the flash of chroma, the gleam of metal being summoned into his hand. And then --
Verso feels his blood run cold. He's moving before he realizes it, before he can even think as to what the consequences might be, because the consequences for inaction would be far, far worse, not when he's here, not when he can do something about it, not when Gustave deserves so much better than -- this. Gustave's eyes are closed, looking almost peaceful except for his slightly shuddering breaths, and he doesn't know how Gustave is going to react to seeing him but it doesn't matter, because he can't let this happen --
Suddenly, Gustave isn't alone anymore. There's a hand, wearing an Expeditioner's fingerless gloves, warm and steady and firm, closed over the Gustave's where he's holding that pistol. He doesn't try to wrench his hand away or force it ( but there's a part of him ready -- ), just makes sure he can feel his presence, and his other hand is curving his fingers gently under Gustave's jaw, cradling his cheek against the heel of his palm. ]
No.
[ Quiet, gentle -- he knows, he knows -- but firm. Verso is crouched on one knee in front of him, looking straight into Gustave's eyes. He's wearing an expedition uniform, worn and old but clearly his own, parts of his uniform and skin splattered with blood. ]
Gustave. [ A bit more urgency, now -- it takes effort when his heart is racing so fast that he can hear the blood roaring in his ears, but he keeps his voice soft. ] You're not done yet.