etrayalogs | tomorrow is here

"You're just... Verso," Maelle says, quietly. She's not sure she buys that he didn't mean what he said in that way, but let's it be. To her, Verso feels like family. To her, he was not even close to a replacement for Gustave, in any way, shape, or form. These are good things. She has to remember that things are twisted for him. Complicated.

"I know it's... difficult. Renoir, and Gustave... all of us, being here, after we thought we won."

But even that ride home on Esquie didn't feel good. It should have.

"I am." It's a brief pause before he smiles a little wider.

The corner of his smile drift down. It becomes a little more lopsided as his eyes flicker to the ground before back to her face.

"Yeah. I thought you'd be able to go home." A sincere statement laced with regret. He has no control over what's happened, but that much he wanted. "Emotions are running understandably high and might for a bit, but we'll all figure it out. I believe in us."

Running his tongue against his teeth, he nods almost absentmindedly. Again, his eyes dart down before he comes up with what he is going to say. "And I don't know if this will ever feel like right, but I hope you're starting to feel safe."

"Lumiere never felt like home to me. Not in the way it does for Gustave and Sciel," she reminds him. She mourns more for Emma, for the apprentices. For the people she knows Gustave loves and wanted to save. Her home, she realized all too late, was Gustave.

"I can be okay here. Can you be okay here?" There's just a tiny bit of teasing in her tone. She might not feel it in her heart, but she can fake it. It's not a lie. Just... a way to ease into something more comfortable, more familiar.

"Yeah." A quiet reply that he isn't quite sure is agreeing with what she's saying or just offering a response to what she said. He gives another little nod as he continues to agree about how it doesn't feel like home.

His chin dips down against his chest briefly before he lifts it back up -- another wry smile that slowly shifts to a warmer one.

He breathes a little laugh out of his nose before smiling more earnestly. "Well, it isn't a shack, but I think I'll be able to live all right." He holds hand up and flicks his finger in a half circle in front of him. "I know I already promised just earlier no shack. But truly, I'll be okay so long as you all are."

For someone who doesn't wish to call the Expedition family, he sure does stress the importance of them being okay. Maelle supposes the Disaster Expedition will be what it is, a family of sorts, and simply opt out of using the word around Verso. Maelle gets up and goes to plop herself down on the piano bench beside him.

"I got you something. Close your eyes and hold out your hands."

She had been hopeful they would be okay, too.

Verso adjusts how he sits as soon as she comes to plop down next to him. He sits a little straight, turning himself toward Maelle. His head does the little tilt to the side at her request.

"Did you?" A slight pause. "All right."

Closing his eyes, he holds his hand out. Of course, not sure how big a thing that she got him -- his fingers keep involuntarily try to adjust to whatever the gift might be, twitching and spreading, curling slightly in toward one another.

This is better. Something unrelated to home or the Expedition or Renoir or anything painful. Maelle smiles at his obedience, though she does need to test him. Byild the suspense.

"Eyes closed all the way? How many fingers am I holding up?"

She's holding up two.

"Twelve."

He wiggles his fingers as his hand moves closer to where she is.

Maelle laughs and lightly swats his hands. Very funny, Verso.

"Anyway," she says, putting her Pictos to use and producing her gift, "I saw this and thought of you."

In his hands she places a light, felt, palm-sized decorative bird. It is very cute. What about it made her think of Verso? She'll never tell.

Verso lightly swings his hand to the side like the swat hurt.

But it is back to about where it was before, still held up to accept the gift. His eyebrows come together when he feels what is placed in his hand. He squeezes the object, turning it about in his hand, before asking:

"Can I open my eyes?" It's said as he leans towards Maelle.

Maelle thinks about making him guess, but he'll never get it in a hundred years. She's not that salty about their previous conversation. This is a peace offering, after all.

"Go on. Take a look."

Opening his eyes, he did catch that it is a stuffed animal of sorts, but is still surprised at what is staring back at him.

"Well, I would've not have guessed this." He lightly pokes the beak. "Thank you. I'll treasure it. I may even keep it always in my Pictos space so it's always around."

Verso gives the bird another affectionate poke.

It's ugly-cute, and that means it's cute in Maelle's books. Would a grown man choose this to put in his home? Unlikely. All the more reason for Verso to have it.

"Oh, no, no. It's meant to live here with you. Look at its little spectacles. They're love hearts. An adventurer wouldn't wear those."

"Ah, you're absolutely correct."

Verso pauses to look around where he could put the bird. Shifting, he turns around to carefully rests the bird on the surface of the piano. He has to adjust the legs a little to make sure that it won't just fall over.

"What you think? A place of honor if ever there was one here."

Maelle grins. She thought it could go in a corner somewhere, but if he wants to put it on open display, so be it.

"I think that's perfect... as long as you don't mind an audience at all times when you play."

"I certainly don't."

He leans towards her, lightly bumping her shoulder with his.

"I fear I thrive on it." His mouth widens into a teasing smile. A little laugh breathes itself through his nose and he lets out a little sigh. It breaks up some of the stuffy feeling in his chest, anyway. That feeling will come back on its own, but that's not her fault.

"Hey--" A pause. "--you weren't able to be part of all the excitement with casino. But I was able to acquire quite a few prizes from there. Want one?"

He's happiest here, she thinks, at a piano. She goes with that playful bump, exaggerated for how light it was, returning to rest her shoulder against his.

"It was a gift, not a trade," she points out with a smile. "Besides, you gave me that dagger. You wouldn't want me to become a spoiled brat, would you?"

What could be better than a weapon?

"I actually would love for you to become a spoiled brat, but you're right."

His head inclines in her direction. A familiar gesture, a familiar action.

"Daggers are better than any other prizes."

"Careful what you wish for," she says, an empty threat. Maelle likes her nice clothes and weapons, but other than that, an orphan going from home to home learned not to get terribly attached to material possessions. Maybe that will change here--but she thinks not, given her prized possession while living with Gustave and Emma had been her wardrobe.

"But, wait--how much did you actually take from that place?"

"I always am and yet I still do my wishing." His mouth splits open into another wide, teasing smile. He breathes in a deep breath and lets out a long sigh. Drifting his eyes along the ceiling, he is glad to not be looking at her when she asks her question.

"I feel as though I should plead ignorance on that one." Holding his hands open, he continues, "Who's to say?" He is; he's to say, but he won't.

Flicking his index finger at her, he adds, "However, I am also holding a few stuffed animals that a friend asked me to keep on hand. So -- there is that."

Maelle leans away so she can look at Verso fully, and he can see the skepticism on her face.

"Oh, a friend. I'm sure."

Just admit you want your very own stuffed animal collection, Verso.

"Well? Where are they? They should be allowed to breathe freely, and you're not hurting for space."

"It's true. I'm the Plushie Ambassador and she's the--" His head tilts back as he tries to remember all the titles that they gave one another. "--Queen Plushie of Legions. Or something."

Normally, he doesn't talk much about the other people that he knows. He likes to give all his attention to the person that he's speaking to, like there is no one else. It's only occasionally he asks questions about who they know -- which always is a good gauge of their emotions.

"They're in my Pictos' space. I intend to hand them out to those in need."

Maelle stares at him for a beat before laughing.

"You sound insane. Do you know that?" Because this is what pushes her to calling him crazy: Verso the Plushie Ambassador, and not Verso, the Man Cut in Half. This is the Verso she wishes Gustave knew. Just as funny as he is, but in a different sort of way that Maelle hasn't fully dissected.

"Yes, but--"

He tilts his head away as he points toward the ceiling, searching for a point to be had about his insanity regarding holding onto stuffed animals.

"--I don't really have anything else to say." His hand drops limply to his side. "I thought I'd come up with something, but it didn't come to me." Oh, well, he still intends to hand them out apropos of nothing to anyone.

"It's okay. You wouldn't be Verso if you weren't very odd," she tells him as if it's an undisputable truth. It does make her curious, however. This friend is real, she thinks.

"You've made friends here already?" She asks, tipping her head to the side. She supposes it would be easy for him. Odd as he may be, he's easy to speak with. He's funny and outgoing. Of course he'd already have bonds outside of Expedition 33.

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