[ He comes to a halt a few feet away, more because he doesn't really know what to do if he'd closed the space between them completely than before Verso puts his hand up. I just like it up here sometimes.
Another commonality. It's almost amusing, after nine months of wondering what had happened, if he'd said the wrong thing, read the wrong tone. But it does make a kind of sense, doesn't it? He knows he's not the only one to enjoy the space and freedom up here. His jaw works, a small motion, and he glances away to take in the flowers, the view of the arcing dome overhead. When he looks back, it's to find Verso frowning, glancing over him with narrowed eyes, and Gustave sighs, just a little. ]
I'm okay.
[ Mostly, anyway. He lifts his right hand from the joint of his left arm and turns his palm up to study it and his forearm. Both are scraped to hell and back, bright smears of blood marring pale skin, and there's some gravel caught in the abrasions. It's his turn to look himself over, cataloging the injuries, the places where he feels stiff and bruised. It's nothing compared to what would have happened if Verso hadn't caught him, but it certainly doesn't feel great. There's a crimson splotch dampening his shirt at his side; another scrape, shallow but stinging.
He looks up from his self-assessment, frowning right back at Verso. ]
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Date: 2025-05-23 07:24 pm (UTC)Another commonality. It's almost amusing, after nine months of wondering what had happened, if he'd said the wrong thing, read the wrong tone. But it does make a kind of sense, doesn't it? He knows he's not the only one to enjoy the space and freedom up here. His jaw works, a small motion, and he glances away to take in the flowers, the view of the arcing dome overhead. When he looks back, it's to find Verso frowning, glancing over him with narrowed eyes, and Gustave sighs, just a little. ]
I'm okay.
[ Mostly, anyway. He lifts his right hand from the joint of his left arm and turns his palm up to study it and his forearm. Both are scraped to hell and back, bright smears of blood marring pale skin, and there's some gravel caught in the abrasions. It's his turn to look himself over, cataloging the injuries, the places where he feels stiff and bruised. It's nothing compared to what would have happened if Verso hadn't caught him, but it certainly doesn't feel great. There's a crimson splotch dampening his shirt at his side; another scrape, shallow but stinging.
He looks up from his self-assessment, frowning right back at Verso. ]
Are you all right?