[ Well, there goes the wayward hope that Gustave might just have not remembered him. The Opera House was poorly lit, but not that dark, after all.
He really, really never meant for Gustave to meet him again -- Leaving it there, with that note, would've been . . . Not the right thing to do, but certainly the kindest with the circumstance he'd managed to get himself into, mistake after mistake. It'd been a good moment of connection, something Verso would like to pretend he didn't think back to in the months since, but he absolutely has, and if they'd never met again then it would've just been that. A blip in each other's lives.
But now he's here ( and picking himself up surprisingly easily, when his own landing hadn't been any more graceful than Gustave's ), eyes briefly scanning the horizon. There's no easy way out, but he could simply leave, the man's hardly in a state to chase him down across Lumiere's rooftops -- putain, what was he supposed to do, just let him fall? Of course he couldn't do that, except he has, just sat by and watched and made the choice to not act when so many died.
He's made this choice now. And he's glad, he really is. Gustave's a good enough man, deserves a better death, and the less tragedy in Maelle's life the better, except what does he even say.
Verso steps over, scans over Gustave quickly. He seems hurt, but not too badly, the metal arm is still attached but he doesn't know enough about it to see if its damaged. He offers a hand to pull him up, if he wants it, head tilting to the side in a silent question -- can you stand? Do you want to? ]
I think you should be thanking me.
[ Humor, relief, still a bit breathless. All real enough. ]
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Date: 2025-05-23 05:41 pm (UTC)He really, really never meant for Gustave to meet him again -- Leaving it there, with that note, would've been . . . Not the right thing to do, but certainly the kindest with the circumstance he'd managed to get himself into, mistake after mistake. It'd been a good moment of connection, something Verso would like to pretend he didn't think back to in the months since, but he absolutely has, and if they'd never met again then it would've just been that. A blip in each other's lives.
But now he's here ( and picking himself up surprisingly easily, when his own landing hadn't been any more graceful than Gustave's ), eyes briefly scanning the horizon. There's no easy way out, but he could simply leave, the man's hardly in a state to chase him down across Lumiere's rooftops -- putain, what was he supposed to do, just let him fall? Of course he couldn't do that, except he has, just sat by and watched and made the choice to not act when so many died.
He's made this choice now. And he's glad, he really is. Gustave's a good enough man, deserves a better death, and the less tragedy in Maelle's life the better, except what does he even say.
Verso steps over, scans over Gustave quickly. He seems hurt, but not too badly, the metal arm is still attached but he doesn't know enough about it to see if its damaged. He offers a hand to pull him up, if he wants it, head tilting to the side in a silent question -- can you stand? Do you want to? ]
I think you should be thanking me.
[ Humor, relief, still a bit breathless. All real enough. ]