[ This vision of Verso keeps talking, murmuring to him, telling him he isn't alone — he is, he is, he's never been so alone in his whole life — telling him to keep going, brushing kisses he can barely feel over his battered hand. Everything still feels so distant, even as he gazes into those intent eyes, clear and full of so many things he can only barely begin to interpret. An apology, he thinks. That desperation still, trying to pull a promise Gustave isn't sure he can make out of him.
His own eyes close and squeeze, brows dragging together as his lips press, exhausted misery etching itself over his face. He doesn't... want to continue, to press on. Without the others, without Maelle, he doesn't know how he fits into this world anymore.
And even this dream of a man who hasn't seen in years is leaving him, again. He can hear it in his voice, feel it in his touches, the kisses he presses onto Gustave's limp hand. If it were really Verso asking, could he do it? If not for himself, then for him? For the possibility of Maelle, somewhere further along?
His eyes are still closed, he's still so tired, he feels like his body belongs to someone else, but he nods once, jerkily, before a fresh sting of tears trickle slowly from the corner of his eye. He doesn't want to. He wants to stay here and join Catherine, all the others. His hand twitches, remembering the feel of his pistol in his palm.
But he nods all the same, miserable and clinging to the low, murmured words of whatever part of him is left that wants to save himself. ]
[ Verso's fingers card through his hair, so gentle its like he thinks Gustave isn't real and could vanish into thin air if he touches him the wrong way. Even something like this, the feel of those curls parting through his fingers, is something that he missed, something that makes him ache. He's leaving again, he has to, and and he can see that Gustave understands that, believes that the shadow of the man he's so desperately yearned for all these years is going to disappear, just like he always has.
And he can see it. Gustave is tired. Everyone is gone. Even with the pistol dissipated from his hand, he could call it again -- it wasn't just the moment before, in a crushing fleeting breath of despair. The despair is still here, suffocating him down. and he thinks that even if Gustave is making him that promise -- promising himself, as he must believe -- he might not keep it.
Verso sees himself in it. He tried drowning himself, once. The water was everywhere, filled his lungs, everything ached and he couldn't breathe. His entire world was on fire as his body screamed for air, as his limbs struggled against the pressure of the ocean around him. And something awful, something deep, something loving and kind with her claws dug straight into his heart, would never let him go. It hurts. It always does. And to see even a faint mirror of what that feels like in someone else, in someone like Gustave --
He takes a deep breath. This is for the best. He may not have known Gustave for very long, but he's watched him for years. He knows how much Maelle means to him, knows how much he means to her. She is alive, she will need him, and Verso has to trust that this is the right thing to do. He thumbs away the freshly fallen tears, leans close to kiss him again. ]
Thank you.
Just hold on a little longer, Gustave. I want you to hear me play, again.
[ And with that, like he has before, and with no less pain -- he slowly stands up, and pulls away. He doesn't go too far, at first, too afraid to leave, watching Gustave from the shadows just to make sure he doesn't immediately call the pistol to his hand again -- but when enough time has passed. He'll do his best. Checking through the woods and field outside, swinging back to check on Gustave again, leaving to expand his search a little wider.
Surprisingly, it doesnt take him too long to find someone -- a woman, floating a good few inches of the ground, no wonder he'd lost her damn trail. The rush of relief ( that he isn't lying to Gustave after all, that he isn't alone, there's someone left aside from Maelle, that Gustave has a reason to continue -- ) is palpable, and with some noise and sound and deliberately laid tracks, he directs her towards that desperately lonely cave, echoing with the loss of a thousand Expeditioners before them. ]
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Date: 2025-05-31 11:31 am (UTC)His own eyes close and squeeze, brows dragging together as his lips press, exhausted misery etching itself over his face. He doesn't... want to continue, to press on. Without the others, without Maelle, he doesn't know how he fits into this world anymore.
And even this dream of a man who hasn't seen in years is leaving him, again. He can hear it in his voice, feel it in his touches, the kisses he presses onto Gustave's limp hand. If it were really Verso asking, could he do it? If not for himself, then for him? For the possibility of Maelle, somewhere further along?
His eyes are still closed, he's still so tired, he feels like his body belongs to someone else, but he nods once, jerkily, before a fresh sting of tears trickle slowly from the corner of his eye. He doesn't want to. He wants to stay here and join Catherine, all the others. His hand twitches, remembering the feel of his pistol in his palm.
But he nods all the same, miserable and clinging to the low, murmured words of whatever part of him is left that wants to save himself. ]
.... I promise.
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Date: 2025-05-31 11:50 am (UTC)And he can see it. Gustave is tired. Everyone is gone. Even with the pistol dissipated from his hand, he could call it again -- it wasn't just the moment before, in a crushing fleeting breath of despair. The despair is still here, suffocating him down. and he thinks that even if Gustave is making him that promise -- promising himself, as he must believe -- he might not keep it.
Verso sees himself in it. He tried drowning himself, once. The water was everywhere, filled his lungs, everything ached and he couldn't breathe. His entire world was on fire as his body screamed for air, as his limbs struggled against the pressure of the ocean around him. And something awful, something deep, something loving and kind with her claws dug straight into his heart, would never let him go. It hurts. It always does. And to see even a faint mirror of what that feels like in someone else, in someone like Gustave --
He takes a deep breath. This is for the best. He may not have known Gustave for very long, but he's watched him for years. He knows how much Maelle means to him, knows how much he means to her. She is alive, she will need him, and Verso has to trust that this is the right thing to do. He thumbs away the freshly fallen tears, leans close to kiss him again. ]
Thank you.
Just hold on a little longer, Gustave. I want you to hear me play, again.
[ And with that, like he has before, and with no less pain -- he slowly stands up, and pulls away. He doesn't go too far, at first, too afraid to leave, watching Gustave from the shadows just to make sure he doesn't immediately call the pistol to his hand again -- but when enough time has passed. He'll do his best. Checking through the woods and field outside, swinging back to check on Gustave again, leaving to expand his search a little wider.
Surprisingly, it doesnt take him too long to find someone -- a woman, floating a good few inches of the ground, no wonder he'd lost her damn trail. The rush of relief ( that he isn't lying to Gustave after all, that he isn't alone, there's someone left aside from Maelle, that Gustave has a reason to continue -- ) is palpable, and with some noise and sound and deliberately laid tracks, he directs her towards that desperately lonely cave, echoing with the loss of a thousand Expeditioners before them. ]