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
"I did. Twice." He flicks his finger to the side. "Once at the casino, which was a place that Gustave and I arrived at before here. And once while here, also at the water park."
His head tilts to the side. "Bit odd to have a chat in swimsuits, but it seems to be the time to have chats this time of the month." Another casual joke just before he crosses his arms.
She shifts back to the counter, leaning against it. She does not want to think about Renoir’s old, sagging body in a swimsuit, and will not let it distract her.
”Did you talk about anything that’s changed things, for you?” she asks. “Given what happened at the end, there.”
He breathes slowly and crosses his arms; he adjusts how he stands, leaning on one leg over the other. It's more defensive posture than what he needs, what he means, since he's the one who said that she could ask him anything.
Shifting how he stands, he tries to be a little more open. "More or less." A slight pause. "I hadn't spoken or seen him in years since I joined you all. But it was different in knowing he was alive somewhere out in the world. And I prepared myself for the time that he'd be dead and gone."
His posture noted, she shifts her weight back on her heels, giving him the slightest bit more space. There’s nothing between him and the door, should he need it. He’s never been a runner, but today has been quite a bit, and there’s more conversation to come.
“You hardly had any time to reflect on his death before reuniting with him again,” she says, gently. “I wondered if you had regrets about what happened on the Monolith.”
His arms drop; he doesn't regret anything that happened on the Monolith. It needed to be done. The delusions that Renoir drowned himself within were only killing him. The same with the Paintress. They were dying in front of him yet immortal. Watching them slowly erode away from what he once knew --
"I don't regret anything that happened."
But that doesn't mean he doesn't grieve for someone who is somehow present in the world.
“Alright,” she says, a little quieter. She believes him; it’s not a statement that leaves place for omission. “But you’ll tell me if something changes, yeah? One personal and private and painful story for another, if you want to keep with tradition.”
"I'm always happy to keep tradition. It wouldn't be tradition if a person gave up on it."
Verso takes a step back; the door is open and it doesn't seem like she has any other questions for him. He decides that he'll wander the rest of the apartment until it's time to leave. If he thinks about it more, he's probably just waiting to have one last conversation with Maelle, with Gustave if he wants.
But it is as Sciel said, he'll talk to Gustave when he wants rather than chase the man down to have a conversation. It wouldn't be right. What would that be? Demanding a cordial relationship when he's the one that caused the issue? Absolute cruelty.
He knocks his knuckles on the threshold of the kitchen and slips away.
He’s hurt, at least in the way a man used to parting from Expeditions can feel it, and it brings her no joy to have contributed to it. She’ll stand by it, though.
She can only nod as he goes, lips set together in a tight smile. No goodbyes because it isn’t one.
Sciel just turns and looks at the kitchen sink and wonders how long it’ll take to feel at peace with any of this.
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"I did. Twice." He flicks his finger to the side. "Once at the casino, which was a place that Gustave and I arrived at before here. And once while here, also at the water park."
His head tilts to the side. "Bit odd to have a chat in swimsuits, but it seems to be the time to have chats this time of the month." Another casual joke just before he crosses his arms.
no subject
”Did you talk about anything that’s changed things, for you?” she asks. “Given what happened at the end, there.”
no subject
Shifting how he stands, he tries to be a little more open. "More or less." A slight pause. "I hadn't spoken or seen him in years since I joined you all. But it was different in knowing he was alive somewhere out in the world. And I prepared myself for the time that he'd be dead and gone."
His eyes drift toward the floor.
no subject
“You hardly had any time to reflect on his death before reuniting with him again,” she says, gently. “I wondered if you had regrets about what happened on the Monolith.”
no subject
His arms drop; he doesn't regret anything that happened on the Monolith. It needed to be done. The delusions that Renoir drowned himself within were only killing him. The same with the Paintress. They were dying in front of him yet immortal. Watching them slowly erode away from what he once knew --
"I don't regret anything that happened."
But that doesn't mean he doesn't grieve for someone who is somehow present in the world.
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no subject
Verso takes a step back; the door is open and it doesn't seem like she has any other questions for him. He decides that he'll wander the rest of the apartment until it's time to leave. If he thinks about it more, he's probably just waiting to have one last conversation with Maelle, with Gustave if he wants.
But it is as Sciel said, he'll talk to Gustave when he wants rather than chase the man down to have a conversation. It wouldn't be right. What would that be? Demanding a cordial relationship when he's the one that caused the issue? Absolute cruelty.
He knocks his knuckles on the threshold of the kitchen and slips away.
no subject
She can only nod as he goes, lips set together in a tight smile. No goodbyes because it isn’t one.
Sciel just turns and looks at the kitchen sink and wonders how long it’ll take to feel at peace with any of this.