That's him. Esquie the Great. We should probably make that official.
[It'd make him happy, Verso knows, the memory of how enthusiastic he'd been over his self-declared title still fresh on his mind. His big ball of nonsense. The one who kept him going, more often than not, back when he still wanted to be hugged free of whatever was dragging him down. Now, though, there's a bit of a twist to his stomach, an apprehension over how seriously Esquie will take his purpose now that Verso's back within his reach.
So, when Maelle observes that he might not be around, Verso feels relief. And then his usual concoction of disgust and guilt and exhaustion filter through, and he looks out into the water, wishing he could break free for a moment, dive all the way down to the seabed, feel the burn in airless lungs until he's ready to surface again, until he's willing to breathe. That's not an option, though, and so he keeps following Maelle, stopping a step after she does and preparing himself to put on a strong enough mask that not even Esquie can see through. A nigh impossible prospect, Verso knows; Esquie might pretend that he buys into whatever bullshit Verso is presenting, but no matter how much nonsense he might spout, he's Esquie the Wise, too.
All the same, he tries, raising a hand when Esquie appears and then holding both hands out in an impishly apologetic shrug.]
Hey, I'm here now, aren't I? And I've got an adventure for you. Maelle here wants to go see the – [He leans forward, cups his hand over his mouth, and says:] – you-know-what made by you-know-who.
[Esquie angles his head, and though Verso has an inkling of what he's about to say, he waits in pseudo patience, really just wanting to get going.]
Ooh, but I thought you-know-who said there were no sisters allowed in the you-know-what.
[Verso bats the truth away with a hand.]
Yeah, sisters. Plural.
[A pause. A silence. Waves rush the shore in a gentle whisper. And then, after a moment:]
Ah, I see. And Maelle minus Clea is one single sister. And! I'll get to go visit my coucou. All right! Let's go for a swim-swim.
[ Instantly, she's taken back. Back to their journey across the Continent, alongside Lune, Sciel, Monoco, Noco, and Esquie, with all of them traveling together and chatting the time away amid the more dangerous and unpleasant bits. Maelle watches the two of them interact with that small, hopeful smile, taking in the way that Verso seems to instantly click into their old back-and-forth as a sign of encouragement, rather than indicative that he's again donned a mask. And when they find a way to bend the rules to allow 'a sister' to visit the previously-forbidden corner of Verso's Canvas, she erupts into a laugh, followed by a smile turned huge. ]
Merci. [ Maelle says to Esquie, laying a hand over her heart. ] I'm really excited to see it after all this time.
[ And...his "coucou," hmm...?
Without further ado, the young Paintress exchanges a last look with the man at her side before moving into position, clambering onto their transportation's back when he lowers himself into the water with an enormous splash. Once they're both settled, she looks from what she can see of Esquie's head to the water stretching out before them, giving him a few encouraging pats. ]
Alright, let's see what you can do. [ As if this is their first trip together and not one among countless others. Esquie, apparently feeling especially energized by Verso's presence, lets out a joyous whoop before starting to speed across the sea, causing Maelle in turn to shout in surprise and delight at the sheer, sudden speed of it. ]
Merde. [ She breathes, laughing again, her white hair whipping around her. ] Think I nearly flew off his back that time.
[Some impulses never die. Like how Verso reaches out towards Maelle once Esquie zooms off into the great partially known, every bit the big brother looking out for his much younger sister, determined to keep her safe at literally any cost. Not that there's a cost now when they've done this dozens of times before, but Verso is still in a state of second-guessing himself over what he should even be doing, and whether he's only fucking them both over by trying to give her back any of what she's lost, so everything feels magnified. Worth thinking about even when it's a simple matter of muscle memory.]
Careful.
[Is all he offers. The journey is short, at least, with the Drafts being closer to East Lumiere than its own western shores, and Verso uses that brevity to justify not saying much until the sight of candies and blocks and toys scattered across a small slice of an island jutting out from the sea grows clearer and clearer in the dwindling distance. Then, simply:]
Take us down, Esq. [To Maelle:] Oh, and brace yourself. It's not exactly subtle.
[Everything the manor was strictly forbidden from becoming. Everything that Lumiere wasn't painted to be, too, with its own over-reliance on grays and whites and blacks and golds and reds. Saying anything more would spoil the moment of arrival, though, and so he falls back into his uncomfortable-feeling but comfortable-seeming silence, letting that little bit of sea spray wash over him as Esquie dives down, down, down, until they've collided with colour.]
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tableauvivant) wrote2025-09-17 01:14 pm
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[It'd make him happy, Verso knows, the memory of how enthusiastic he'd been over his self-declared title still fresh on his mind. His big ball of nonsense. The one who kept him going, more often than not, back when he still wanted to be hugged free of whatever was dragging him down. Now, though, there's a bit of a twist to his stomach, an apprehension over how seriously Esquie will take his purpose now that Verso's back within his reach.
So, when Maelle observes that he might not be around, Verso feels relief. And then his usual concoction of disgust and guilt and exhaustion filter through, and he looks out into the water, wishing he could break free for a moment, dive all the way down to the seabed, feel the burn in airless lungs until he's ready to surface again, until he's willing to breathe. That's not an option, though, and so he keeps following Maelle, stopping a step after she does and preparing himself to put on a strong enough mask that not even Esquie can see through. A nigh impossible prospect, Verso knows; Esquie might pretend that he buys into whatever bullshit Verso is presenting, but no matter how much nonsense he might spout, he's Esquie the Wise, too.
All the same, he tries, raising a hand when Esquie appears and then holding both hands out in an impishly apologetic shrug.]
Hey, I'm here now, aren't I? And I've got an adventure for you. Maelle here wants to go see the – [He leans forward, cups his hand over his mouth, and says:] – you-know-what made by you-know-who.
[Esquie angles his head, and though Verso has an inkling of what he's about to say, he waits in pseudo patience, really just wanting to get going.]
Ooh, but I thought you-know-who said there were no sisters allowed in the you-know-what.
[Verso bats the truth away with a hand.]
Yeah, sisters. Plural.
[A pause. A silence. Waves rush the shore in a gentle whisper. And then, after a moment:]
Ah, I see. And Maelle minus Clea is one single sister. And! I'll get to go visit my coucou. All right! Let's go for a swim-swim.
no subject
Merci. [ Maelle says to Esquie, laying a hand over her heart. ] I'm really excited to see it after all this time.
[ And...his "coucou," hmm...?
Without further ado, the young Paintress exchanges a last look with the man at her side before moving into position, clambering onto their transportation's back when he lowers himself into the water with an enormous splash. Once they're both settled, she looks from what she can see of Esquie's head to the water stretching out before them, giving him a few encouraging pats. ]
Alright, let's see what you can do. [ As if this is their first trip together and not one among countless others. Esquie, apparently feeling especially energized by Verso's presence, lets out a joyous whoop before starting to speed across the sea, causing Maelle in turn to shout in surprise and delight at the sheer, sudden speed of it. ]
Merde. [ She breathes, laughing again, her white hair whipping around her. ] Think I nearly flew off his back that time.
no subject
Careful.
[Is all he offers. The journey is short, at least, with the Drafts being closer to East Lumiere than its own western shores, and Verso uses that brevity to justify not saying much until the sight of candies and blocks and toys scattered across a small slice of an island jutting out from the sea grows clearer and clearer in the dwindling distance. Then, simply:]
Take us down, Esq. [To Maelle:] Oh, and brace yourself. It's not exactly subtle.
[Everything the manor was strictly forbidden from becoming. Everything that Lumiere wasn't painted to be, too, with its own over-reliance on grays and whites and blacks and golds and reds. Saying anything more would spoil the moment of arrival, though, and so he falls back into his uncomfortable-feeling but comfortable-seeming silence, letting that little bit of sea spray wash over him as Esquie dives down, down, down, until they've collided with colour.]