WHO: Expedition 33 (Gustave, Maelle, Sciel, and Verso) WHEN: post-mingle, pre-mission WHERE: the apartments WHAT: the remaining members of Expedition 33 NOTES\WARNINGS: spoilers for Acts 1&2 of Clair Obscur: Expedition 33
"It'll forever be a mystery." He shifts slightly when she pulls away so that she can face him. His own voice teasing back at her. "Feeling quite used, but you know how much like that--so, let's."
Which means, that he is going to toss what is left of the pizza back down. He wipes his hand with the hand towel as he rises up from his seat.
Verso will wait for Sciel to get up, wait a beat, before he'd try to pick her up so he could carry her to the aforementioned bed. Although, rather than simulating crossing any threshold, he would intend to toss her playfully onto the mattress.
She gives him an entertained little roll of her eyes as she gets up with him. Used! When he moves to scoop her up, there's the briefest surprise on her face as she wonders if he's really going to do what it seems like he is, but she moves with him. She still has to stifle a squeal as her feet leave the floor, throwing an arm around his neck and laughing as he tosses her down.
She very, very, very much likes spending time with Verso.
After, when they're both tired and sweaty, she uses him as her personal daybed, lounging out on top of him. Her arms folded against his chest, her chin rested on her arms. Skin to skin. She watches him, sly.
"You know, I am feeling chattier now. You're just very distracting to look at, sometimes."
Idly, he runs his fingers through her hair; his other hand rests lightly on her shoulder, fingertips tracing little circles on the skin. His smile is as easy and soft as always, but he does enjoy this quiet peace that they have together.
"I was hoping you'd feel that way." His eyebrows lift as they often do when giving her his full attention. "And it's a cross I have to bear, unfortunately. Being so handsome is just so difficult for me."
Verso tilts his head away as he pretends to sniffle, burying half of his face against the pillow, before opening his eye to Sciel. It shines with amusement; he turns his head back so he's looking at her properly. "But what are you feeling chatty about?"
He draws another circle on her shoulder with his index finger. Reaching out, he lightly runs his fingers along the curve of her jaw.
"Which is whatever you're feeling like chatting about." Another smile appears. "I know sometimes it's easier to wait for the question to be asked." Even if realistically he knows no one would ask the question that he's waiting for.
"But I also like hearing whatever you feel like sharing with me."
The drag of his fingertips against her skin feels hypnotizing, and she leans into that touch, eyes half-lidded, with a long exhale. Everything else going on can melt away, at least for a little bit, and she can sink into the moment without another thought.
“Let’s see,” she ponders. She doesn’t need to think on it long, and her smile grows sly as she runs her fingertips over the ridge of his collarbone. “Do you want to know about the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to me? I think it inoculated me against most kinds of shame.”
He pauses, of course, to lightly flick his index finger side-to-side. "This isn't a story for a story, is it? Do you intend to ask my most embarrassing moment in return?" His index finger points lightly at her face, teasingly accusatory.
“I think fair is fair, I get an embarrassing story in return,” she replies, but there’s a glimmer in her eye when she teases: “Unless you’re a coward. Only you can decide that part.”
"I'm sure I did." Is the easy response that he gives back. "It's been few years since I've thought of my school years, but I'm fairly certain I engaged in such nefarious actions."
“You’d admit to being heinously disrespectful to your education, to a teacher, of all people?” she says, mock-serious. It doesn’t last. “No, I did too. Specifically, when I was eight or so, I wrote a very long and detailed love confession to a classmate instead of practicing my times tables.”
"Well, you can always punish me later." He inclines his head slightly to the side, teasing her back with the same mock-serious tone.
Verso feels like he knows where this story is going but he muses over taking the punchline away or not. Although, this is an embarrassing story so perhaps saying punchline is a bit too callous. "And? You're leaving me in suspense."
“I will,” she says. “I was caught, of course. My teacher intercepted it and told me either I could read it aloud to the whole class, or he would. So got up there, thinking I could own it. Pretend I was some famous stage actress or something. My hands were shaking the whole time.”
Verso tilts his chin up as he attempts to twist away just with his head from the pinch. It doesn't hurt but he plays it up for laughs -- even reaching up to rub his face as he gives her a pitiful look.
"Does it have a happy ending? Like you ended up charming who you were writing about?"
She moves with him, as though she might do it again, but it’s much more fun to just gently wrestle.
“No! My classmate was so red I thought his head would catch fire. He got up and ran out of the classroom and he never spoke to me again,” she says, and she feels a little curl of embarrassment now, even if out of sympathy. She smiles. “It took my father days to convince me to go back to school. But I still think it had a happy ending.”
It is a gentle wrestle, but he's careful not to dislodge her from being on top. That would be unfortunate and rude. Although, he does admit quietly to himself that it would also be a little fun.
"His loss." He cups the side of her face, smiling softly. "But oh? What's the happy ending?"
Oh, it’s always fun to wrestle, no matter where she ends up. Right now, at least, she gets to feel triumphant on top.
“Yes, his loss, because I would have married him at recess in a heartbeat,” she agrees, leaning into his hand, just enough that her lips can briefly skim the edge of his palm. Her gaze is locked on his, a smile in her eyes. “But now I don’t think anything could embarrass me like that ever again. Isn’t that perfect?”
"I think that's absolutely perfect." With his free hand, he reaches to take hers. It's so that he can bring it up to kiss the first knuckle of her index finger.
"The most embarrassed that I've ever been involves dismemberment so--" His head tilts the opposite way as he feels like he's bringing a much different energy with his tale. "If I realized this is what I'd be up against, I'd try to get embarrassed in more conventional ways."
She watches the press of his lips against her finger, feels the warmth of him. So sweet. She shifts up, taking the advantage of his tilted head to nuzzle her face in there.
“You’re still young at heart, there’s plenty of time,” she teases. “Go on, tell your story. What happened?”
"Well, it was while I was on the mountain with Monoco," Involuntarily, he tilts his head and eyes drift up to the ceiling. "I ended up being cut in half by a Pèlerin."
If he had both of his hands, he might have made the cutting gesture with them. But that would mean he'd have to stop touching her face and skin, so that is not going to happen.
"The bottom half ended up sliding--" He clicks his tongue, as he points his index finger at the wall and flicks his wrist up. "--down the mountain. While my top half ended up stuck in the snow." With that free hand, he curls his fingers in the air and gestures downward to indicate how stuck he actually was.
“Oh, that’s so much worse,” she says, laughing breathily, eyes closing for a moment in a terrible wince. “Mine felt like hours, but it was only a few minutes… but you had to think about that the whole way down. Or up?”
"Oh, it's not just that, but Monoco had to kill the Pèlerin for me." He flicks his finger toward the ceiling. "So, I got to listen to that as he pulled me out of the snow and start the trek down."
Breathing out a long sigh, he blows upwards so his bangs flutter out of his face. "Unfortunately, my bottom half had a problem with getting a good purchase so it was a very, very long walk with Monoco. And at one time, he threw me at some Nevrons as a surprise tactic."
Another huff. "Because a warrior should learn and know how to fight with both halves."
Is there anything quite as relaxing as listening to a story while nestled together like this, skin to skin, getting to feel his breath through his chest as he huffs?
“Humiliation after humiliation,” she agrees. “How does your ego survive that sort of thing?”
"Well, I ended up beating him in a sparring match few days later." He swirls his finger around in a circle. "It was before he learned to be calm about losses so... seeing him lose his cool about it was quite refreshing and helped regain my pride."
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Which means, that he is going to toss what is left of the pizza back down. He wipes his hand with the hand towel as he rises up from his seat.
Verso will wait for Sciel to get up, wait a beat, before he'd try to pick her up so he could carry her to the aforementioned bed. Although, rather than simulating crossing any threshold, he would intend to toss her playfully onto the mattress.
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She very, very, very much likes spending time with Verso.
After, when they're both tired and sweaty, she uses him as her personal daybed, lounging out on top of him. Her arms folded against his chest, her chin rested on her arms. Skin to skin. She watches him, sly.
"You know, I am feeling chattier now. You're just very distracting to look at, sometimes."
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"I was hoping you'd feel that way." His eyebrows lift as they often do when giving her his full attention. "And it's a cross I have to bear, unfortunately. Being so handsome is just so difficult for me."
Verso tilts his head away as he pretends to sniffle, burying half of his face against the pillow, before opening his eye to Sciel. It shines with amusement; he turns his head back so he's looking at her properly. "But what are you feeling chatty about?"
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Should she feel guilty about that?
She isn’t sure.
“Are we doing light and personal, now?” she asks. “Or do you surprise me with a question?”
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He draws another circle on her shoulder with his index finger. Reaching out, he lightly runs his fingers along the curve of her jaw.
"Which is whatever you're feeling like chatting about." Another smile appears. "I know sometimes it's easier to wait for the question to be asked." Even if realistically he knows no one would ask the question that he's waiting for.
"But I also like hearing whatever you feel like sharing with me."
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“Let’s see,” she ponders. She doesn’t need to think on it long, and her smile grows sly as she runs her fingertips over the ridge of his collarbone. “Do you want to know about the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to me? I think it inoculated me against most kinds of shame.”
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He pauses, of course, to lightly flick his index finger side-to-side. "This isn't a story for a story, is it? Do you intend to ask my most embarrassing moment in return?" His index finger points lightly at her face, teasingly accusatory.
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But before that -- he waves his hand to indicate the floor is hers.
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She shifts her weight on him, comfortably, and she reaches up to brush the kiss curl of his hair out of his forehead.
“Did you ever pass notes in school? Ones where you asked your school mates stupid questions mid-lecture, that sort of thing?”
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"I'm sure I did." Is the easy response that he gives back. "It's been few years since I've thought of my school years, but I'm fairly certain I engaged in such nefarious actions."
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Verso feels like he knows where this story is going but he muses over taking the punchline away or not. Although, this is an embarrassing story so perhaps saying punchline is a bit too callous. "And? You're leaving me in suspense."
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“I will,” she says. “I was caught, of course. My teacher intercepted it and told me either I could read it aloud to the whole class, or he would. So got up there, thinking I could own it. Pretend I was some famous stage actress or something. My hands were shaking the whole time.”
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"Does it have a happy ending? Like you ended up charming who you were writing about?"
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“No! My classmate was so red I thought his head would catch fire. He got up and ran out of the classroom and he never spoke to me again,” she says, and she feels a little curl of embarrassment now, even if out of sympathy. She smiles. “It took my father days to convince me to go back to school. But I still think it had a happy ending.”
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"His loss." He cups the side of her face, smiling softly. "But oh? What's the happy ending?"
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“Yes, his loss, because I would have married him at recess in a heartbeat,” she agrees, leaning into his hand, just enough that her lips can briefly skim the edge of his palm. Her gaze is locked on his, a smile in her eyes. “But now I don’t think anything could embarrass me like that ever again. Isn’t that perfect?”
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"The most embarrassed that I've ever been involves dismemberment so--" His head tilts the opposite way as he feels like he's bringing a much different energy with his tale. "If I realized this is what I'd be up against, I'd try to get embarrassed in more conventional ways."
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“You’re still young at heart, there’s plenty of time,” she teases. “Go on, tell your story. What happened?”
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If he had both of his hands, he might have made the cutting gesture with them. But that would mean he'd have to stop touching her face and skin, so that is not going to happen.
"The bottom half ended up sliding--" He clicks his tongue, as he points his index finger at the wall and flicks his wrist up. "--down the mountain. While my top half ended up stuck in the snow." With that free hand, he curls his fingers in the air and gestures downward to indicate how stuck he actually was.
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And Monoco wouldn’t let him live it down.
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Breathing out a long sigh, he blows upwards so his bangs flutter out of his face. "Unfortunately, my bottom half had a problem with getting a good purchase so it was a very, very long walk with Monoco. And at one time, he threw me at some Nevrons as a surprise tactic."
Another huff. "Because a warrior should learn and know how to fight with both halves."
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“Humiliation after humiliation,” she agrees. “How does your ego survive that sort of thing?”
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