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
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."
“And you’ve never been a sore winner, have you?” she teases, and then breathes out heavily, content. “It was so beautiful, up in the mountains. I don’t think I could be embarrassed with all those sights to distract me.”
"Oh, never." He chimes in return before smiling wide, telling an obvious lie. "And, Monoco likes you quite a bit, also. So, he wouldn't tease you half as much as he did me."
His voice quiets as he muses over what has become of Monoco. He knows -- his friend was prepared for what was to come, as well, but still, it doesn't make it anymore heart-wrenching to think about.
"He's probably still mourning us. His heart's quite big for the backside of a poorly-constructed owl." An insult that he didn't yet have the chance to throw at his friend. His eyes drift away as he inhales slowly, and shifts his tone to something easier, casual. "But as for what I am going to do, I fear I must rest."
"I must say, I'm a little disappointed in him if he's not making some grand effort to get to the bottom of our disappearance."
Despite the seriousness of the subject, she's light about it; they have plenty to do here to fix it themselves, and Monoco's grief will be temporary. Funny, how much freer things feel when there's no longer a time limit.
Still, she rakes his bangs back out of his face again, letting her fingers smooth his hair back. Oh, ma marmotte.
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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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She could nap here, if she didn’t have other things to do today. But at least that thought gives way to something else to chew on.
“What do you think he’s doing right now? Seeing as he wouldn’t have gommaged with the rest of us.”
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His voice quiets as he muses over what has become of Monoco. He knows -- his friend was prepared for what was to come, as well, but still, it doesn't make it anymore heart-wrenching to think about.
"He's probably still mourning us. His heart's quite big for the backside of a poorly-constructed owl." An insult that he didn't yet have the chance to throw at his friend. His eyes drift away as he inhales slowly, and shifts his tone to something easier, casual. "But as for what I am going to do, I fear I must rest."
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Despite the seriousness of the subject, she's light about it; they have plenty to do here to fix it themselves, and Monoco's grief will be temporary. Funny, how much freer things feel when there's no longer a time limit.
Still, she rakes his bangs back out of his face again, letting her fingers smooth his hair back. Oh, ma marmotte.
"Sleepy, are you?"
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