[Sciel makes her literal points and Verso can't help but wonder a little about what he's got himself into. Not in a bad way – again, he likes the challenge, appreciates how she always manages to keep things interesting. No, it's rather that he feels like no matter what he chooses, he'll probably end up revealing more about himself than he'd intended to when he first proposed the wager.
That's all right, though; he never backs down, and he feels unusually safe with Sciel, like she'll see what's there and won't twist his words or use them against him, like she'll know which of his secrets to keep. Which feels a bit scary in spite of that safety, and that thought has him letting out a huff of a laugh as he looks away for a moment, once again feeling stupidly, almost boyishly shy.
It really has been a long time since he's experienced genuine, meaningful human connection in general, never mind with someone as extraordinary as Sciel.]
You're not wrong.
[No might have left him half expecting Sciel to go gentle with him. Not so much now.]
But got it. I'll come up with something good.
[It's a pride thing. And it's a rare burst-of-manners thing that finds him collecting the cards into a pile, tucking them away, then rising to his feet and offering her a hand to join her.]
May I escort you back to camp?
[Speaking of camp, his voice drips with it a bit.]
[ She's got a palm pressed to the grass, primed to hop up when he extends the hand. The whole gesture -- along with the offer -- earns him another amused, but intrigued parting of her lips. ]
Oh, merci. [ Sciel accepts it with a little chuckle and rises to her feet. Maybe she takes an extra beat before releasing her grasp, enjoying the brief warmth of his grip in her own: the comfort she always gets, as a touch-friendly person, when making that contact with another.
If it's something she especially savours because of the hand's owner, well. ]
And if we run into any Nevrons on the way back, don't worry: I'll keep us both safe. So you can focus on the escorting.
[ Her lips pull upward again with fond, teasing grin.
She finds herself wishing they had more time, for...another game, another conversation. Start on the reading now, maybe. There's something about their shared evening that has her feeling more at ease than usual, and definitely more excited for the next night at camp where they find themselves with a moment to spare, and share.
[The escorting. What he leaves unsaid is that the importance of the work is directly proportionate to that of the company he's keeping, still unsure how to read into the energy between them. A prospect that's made all the more complicated by the lingering of her hand in his own, that lilt of a tease to her grin.
At least there's the promise of more. Should fate favour them, anyway. Tarot and music, snow and carousels, beauty in places both odd and expected. Those thoughts are enough to hold back the slight edge of disappointment that might have otherwise made itself known in the tone of his voice as he meets her request with his confirmation, moving them that much closer to ending their evening.]
We shall.
[They head back to camp. Wander off their separate ways and into sleep. Morning comes and the group continues journeying to Monoco's Station. Grass soon makes way for the first patches of snow, and by the time they're inside – for a certain definition of inside, anyway – the cold has settled in and nobody's ready to continue further onwards until they rest up, warm up, get more acclimated to the chill that none of them really came prepared to endure.
Except for Verso, but he's had decades to prepare himself.
Up until the evening, the Grandis make for good company; then, they're off to put the events of the day down on paper, and the 33s are left with a moment to exist. Those will become rarer by the day, Verso knows – things never unfold any differently in the Canvas – so once he's spent some time catching up with Monoco, he slips away to find Sciel, wherever she might have wandered off to herself.
When he finds her, he moves to step into place beside her. It feels oddly natural, oddly right, and he has to stop himself from moving in just a little bit closer.]
Hey. [Said softly, looking over his shoulder.] You busy?
[ Tomorrow comes. A chill materializes in the air as they approach their next destination, rapidly changing into something that seeps through the clothes and skin and clings to your bones. Monoco's Station is awe-inspiring enough a sight that she can ignore the discomfort of the cold, drawn into the overhead trellis of train tracks, the magnificent spires of ice.
Through their companion and the locals, they get some of the history of the place: another brush stoke in the incomplete painting that is the distant past. The image of trains running through the Continent is grand, dreamy. The mythical Grandis who live in one of the icy stations of the old train lines are similarly grand and dreamy, offering their gentle musings and snappy poetry to any of the 33s who inquire. And while both of these novelties are enough to capture the attention of the former farmer, Sciel is more completely occupied with the main event. The feature of the area she'd been promised, and where Verso finds her once he seeks her out.
Snow. Snow! She stands in about a foot of it, staring out at the blanketed landscape with an expression of earnest thrill and wonder, when she turns on him when he approaches. ]
Just finishing something up. [ Sciel crouches down, taking some snow into her hand before straightening up again. She closes her fingers around it, making it a bit more compact, and then wraps both hands around the lump, which melts quickly with their warmth.
Once the snow has gone completely she returns her arms to her sides, and her gaze to him. The smile widens further. ]
All done. For now. [ ...As if she can't help it, her head turns back to the snowy expanse, eyes nearly sparkling with glee. ] I know you're probably used to it, but...it's incredible. More beautiful than I pictured.
[ Pierre would be just as enraptured. With the usual pang of mingled love and loss, she pictures his reaction. Pictures shoving him into a snow bank, both laughing, rolling around in the fluffy mass until their skin tingled with discomfort. ]
...I haven't forgotten you mentioning danger. [ She adds lightly, turning to return her attention to the man at her side. ] But I admit: I'm feeling a lot more excited than worried at the moment.
[There's something charming about how Sciel occupies herself with melting snow between her palms, of all things, and he watches her with reflected interest. She's right that he's used to it, and despite how much he's always gravitated towards it, he can't help but feel like he's taken it quite a bit for granted. A thought which infuses a bit of extra enthusiasm into his response.]
It only gets better from here, too.
[The beauty, anyway. The cold will get worse, and trudging through deep snow gets old about three steps in, but there's no point in ruining the wonder of the moment with the shittiness of what awaits them in the morning. Caring about the danger can wait, too; they're reasonably safe here – safe enough that Verso seems more relaxed than usual as he looks out into the sky – and with Monoco agreeing to travel with them, he's feeling more at peace with things in general.
A fragile peace, to be sure, given how all peace in the Canvas is fleeting, but that's all the more reason to embrace it while they still can. Right now, for him, that means reaping his earlier rewards. He'd been hoping they'd stop here, actually, mainly so the others can take a night or two to recuperate while they have roofs over their heads and the Grandis to keep them company, but also because he knows this place well, too. And though he might not consider it to be anywhere near as much of a home as Frozen Hearts was, its familiarity is comforting in the same way. Something he'd like to share. So:]
Lucky for you, I know exactly where to go to keep the danger away. It's a bit of a walk, but not too bad of one. I was thinking we could head over there now, if it's a good time for that reading...? Or if you wouldn't mind the company if it isn't.
[ It's a childish gesture, maybe, but she's never been one to deny herself the harmlessness of showing blatant joy. The sensation of the biting cold disappearing in her hand is novel, and when he asserts there's only more to come, the brightness in her face is sustained. ]
I'll hold you to that. [ Sciel replies, sing-song, though she doesn't doubt him.
There's a lot she could ask about since their arrival -- the snow aside, she has a lot of questions about the Station itself, and the Grandis, and Monoco of course -- but...suspects that once she's warmed up a bit, Lune will tie Verso down for her own interrogation. So she lets him off the hook (for the moment, at least), quirking a curious brow at his suggestion. ]
I don't mind a walk. [ And certainly doesn't mind more of the rare instances they've had so far where they managed to find some time to chat, just the two of them. In fact, it's something that's been at the fore of her mind since their last meeting: a new light at the end of every possibly-deadly tunnel they barrel down on a daily basis. ] Now's a great time.
[ The snow's everywhere, so it isn't as if she'll miss out on it if they go elsewhere. So Sciel gestures in the dramatized bow that Verso favors, smile again skewing teasing. ]
[One of Verso's best friends is a stuffed toy, and the brunt of his socialisation is with puppy-like mannequins. Whatever the gesture is – childish or otherwise – he finds it relatable, and comforting in so being. Time is running out and with the world constantly crashing around the 33s, the simpler the joys they find, the greater the impact they have on Verso.
Or so it's felt, anyway. So it still feels when she imitates his bow, and he makes an incoherent formal gestures of acceptance with one wrist.]
Merci beaucoup, mademoiselle.
[Then, he heads towards one of the most put-together railway tracks that stretches skyward – he did not say they would be walking on flat ground – and takes the first few track steps up before a particularly snaky gust of wind works its way around him enough to give him a slight chill. It's now that he looks back, remembering what Sciel is wearing, and points to her bare arms.]
You... don't happen to have something warmer than that, do you?
[The man has absolutely no idea what the Expeditioners do and don't bring with them, or how many of them know how to use pictos to make their own personal hammerspaces, or what they're even told about the Continent, for the most part. So, the question is purely genuine.]
[ Off they go, trudging together over the frozen and wondrous landscape. Verso leads the way, of course, but she keeps pace alongside him as much as the path will allow, eyes following the upward slope of the tracks as they approach. Once they begin their ascent she lets him go first, following with careful steps along the icy metal and possibly-unstable wood.
...Some of the less-pleasant features of their beautiful surroundings make themselves known in a brief gust, and Sciel draws her shoulders in against its bite, feeling the cold travel along her bare arms and midriff (where it chills the scar in particular). ]
Ah. [ Right. She'd been enjoying the unique experience of such deep cold when she'd just been standing in a low snow bank, but he's got a point that'll be key in not actually coming down with an illness or worse. It's too easy to picture the lecture she'd get if she returned from an "unnecessary" excursion with some sickness, and Sciel isn't that irresponsible, besides. So, just as she summons her scythe and cards, she produces a coat and gloves more like what Lune typically wears, donning them as she continues upward.
The front of the coat is still left open for now, though. It's not yet so painful that she wants to shut out the feeling entirely.
The Expeditions prepare for what they can, with the limited knowledge they have, and getting nothing sent back to the city from those who came before. They've known there are mountains, have some extent of preparation for the cold, though nothing that would allow for extended survival in these conditions (or the more intense and deadly cold he's hinted at). This'll have to do for now, and maybe next time Lune can provide the extra warmth of a handheld fire. ...Next time they're moving as a group, anyway. Much as she loves her fellow 33, close friend, and former hookup, these rare occasions that she and Verso are carving out are...well, preferably spent with just the pair of them. ]
For the record, I would've figured something out, if not this. [ Sure, they could just have the reading back at camp around a fire and protected from the wind, but where's the adventure in that? ] I'm sure you know lots of creative ways to stay warm out here, with all of your ancient wisdom.
[ If there is any innuendo laced through her words, then her usual, pleasant expression doesn't tip her hand. ]
You wouldn't have had to. One of the Grandis at the Station is a fashionist. Probably has a whole storeroom somewhere full of clothing. Don't ask me where he gets his materials from, though. It's probably best not to ask.
[Not that it's ever stopped him. Having someone hand you one outfit or another whenever you meet is nice when you've spent sixty-seven years wearing the same damned thing.
The rest of what Sciel says gets taken at face value; Verso's mind perks up slightly at the thought of ways they might warm each other – starlight making way for firelight, open skies hidden behind shelter, distances cleared and breaths shared – but he doesn't read anything into it. Which is what finds him taking the Dumb Forestman approach instead.]
Honestly? My ancient wisdom has taught me that the best way is to keep moving. Nothing gets the cold on you quicker than sitting around and waiting for it to go away.
[Continuing their trek up the track path as it rises ever higher reveals more of the landscape: snow-capped mountains and evergreens in white jackets, the moonlight and starlight hitting the snow like glitter. At this angle, the Monolith dips behind the mountains, the Paintress left to her lonely grieving, her number momentarily relegated to memory. Views like this are, naturally, Verso's favourites. Anything that gives him a moment's respite from the feeling of that sword dangling over all their heads.
More importantly, though, up ahead a train car balances almost perfectly in the air, wide windows opening from both sides onto forest: one wintry, one coloured like autumn. It's a rare luxury on the Continent for something from before the Fracture to be in one piece, never mind reasonably utilisable, and the closer they get, the lighter Verso's step becomes.
Still, he stops just ahead of it, at the highest peak of the track, and nods out into the distance.]
"A fashionist?" [ Just when she thinks the mythical creatures of the Continent can't get any more interesting, Verso shares a tidbit like this and her eyes alight with glee. ] Seriously? Well, you'll have to introduce me! I can't pass up the opportunity to see what Grandis designs look like.
[ Sciel is no fashionista herself, but it'd take someone very dull indeed to not find joy and intrigue in something like this. And what kind of person doesn't get excited about a new jacket or pair of shoes or whatever every often in a while, even if only for functional reasons?
There is no disappointment in her face as Verso doesn't take the (potentially flirtatious) bait. Sciel is rarely disappointed, and this is no exception. Besides, it's far from the death knell of her shooting her shot in the future, and so she humors the conversation's direction with a hum of agreement. ]
Well, it's good thing we're already doing that. I feel warmer already.
[ Actually, it's getting cold by the minute, but that's neither here nor there. In fact, any notion of discomfort is easily forgotten as they ascend higher and higher, finally coming to a halt as her guide slows to a stop.
Sciel's breath is stolen with the wind, but it's okay. Around her is one of the most indescribably beautiful sights that she's ever had the pleasure to witness. ]
Verso... [ Those striking green eyes are wide with surprise and she turns in place as if trying to take it all in at once. She has to lift a hand to keep flyaways that have escaped from her bun from getting in her eyes, but it's an automatic gesture, and so she keeps the hand absently held up alongside her face as she just...stares.
In a brief and rare moment of absolute insanity, part of her feels like it'd be nice to just stay up here forever. To set aside their deadly mission indefinitely in favor of this view, and conversation, and card games and card readings and music and probably the best sweep of stars she's ever seen in her life, and maybe the hypothermia would get her, but falling asleep and never waking up doesn't sound so bad.
Sciel returns to herself before long, but the sparkle in her eyes from the initial impact of the view is still there, shining away. ]
This is amazing. [ She'd maybe set the bar too high when she'd assessed the simple existence of snow as a ten out of ten, not realizing quite how stunning it could get in symphony with everything else. ] It's...indescribable.
[ A memory she'll emblazon in her mind, for sure. To go back to when things are not quite as rosy. ]
[If they were simply two fellow Expeditioners, acquaintances on the verge of becoming friends, Verso might have cracked a tease here about how he'll get the Grandis to hook her up with something for their second date. Stuff like that is only fun for him when it doesn't feel like there are any stakes, though. Or when, perhaps more accurately, the tease isn't more likely to twist at him than to make them both smile.
So, instead he lets out a soft laugh, still enamoured by her brightness.]
Trust me, there's no missing him.
[On account of the massive red beret, but where's the fun in revealing that detail upfront?
He has a much better time pointing out the details of the landscape, where colours peek out from the snow and ever-burning fires cast their own pink-orange glitter across the ground, where stories can be read into the shapes of rocks, where mountains kiss the stars, guiding Sciel on a languid tour of the world before them, even as the cold bleeds deeper and deeper into his bones.
Lest he spoil everything that awaits them past the station, Verso stops cautiously short of revealing too much, letting the landscape keep its secrets for now as he ushers Sciel ahead into the train. An opulent passenger car, it combines marbled black and gold with gold accents – all sharp angles and straight lines – and plush, purple velvet seating, both in booths and in chairs. Still-lit crystal empire chandeliers line the roof, casting a warm glow onto everything, and a small, black, wood-fired caboose stove sits off in the corner aside a well-disturbed stack of firewood.]
Welcome aboard. [He offers after a moment.] Would the lady care to choose her seat?
[Shocking development: the train nerd enjoys train roleplay.]
[ She can ask him to lead her to the fashion-minded Grandis when they're back at the Station proper, when their miniature expedition is already a memory. But she's unwilling to give up the present for thoughts of the future when she's surrounding by something so incredible now, so Sciel listens attentively as Verso maps out the landscape. He describes it in the evocative language of a poet, leading her to believe that, had they never made it to this spot, he might have been able to describe it in vivid-enough detail to nearly bring her there on his words alone. There's also the feeling of this being a very familiar place, for him to pinpoint exactly the ways in which it's beautiful, unless it's just in his nature to be observant in such minutiae no matter where he is.
Whatever the case, it's incredibly engaging (both the bits he points out, and the way he goes about it). Even more so when he finally leads them into the train car, stepping aside so she can take it all in.
The interior is dazzling, but in a way that is wholly distinct from the snow-blanketed world outside. She steps further in, glancing around with a dreamy sort of smile, because it does all feel like a dream. Most things like this that were pre-Fracture are...well, fractured. Only fragments of whatever they used to be with undeniable beauty, but incomplete nonetheless. Which is why getting to experience something like this is a very rare occasion indeed.
Gold and black again. She chuckles faintly, cocking her head at the walls. There certainly was a popular design scheme back then, given how much they've seen it crop up... ]
Oh, yes. 'The lady' would. [ With an excited little lift of her brows turned in his direction, she moves ahead, glancing around at the plush seats before settling into a booth.
Sciel immediately glances out of the window as if drawn magnetically again to the snow, but before long she extricates her attention so she can return it to Verso, patting the surface of the table in front of her. ]
Is there someone else who can manage the train so the conductor can keep his passengers company? [ There's the usual twinkle in her eye as she regards him, waiting for him to sit opposite.
In the meantime, the deck of cards appears in front of her with a small flash. ]
So...have you decided on your question? Or 'questions,' if you couldn't choose. I'll be lenient.
[With Sciel distracted by the view out the window, Verso heads off to get the stove started. Temperatures may be more bearable now that the wind barely reaches them, but they can still be better, cosy in ways precious few places on the Continent are. He finishes around when Sciel speaks up, wiping his hands off on a nearby cloth, left unused since the Fracture, before moving to slide into the seat across from her.]
I suppose that can be arranged.
[After he sits down, he closes his eyes for a slight while longer than a blink, taking in the long-gone yet still-familiar feeling of heading off on safer adventures than those he usually gets up to, these days. If only he could get the train to whistle, now; if only Sciel could get a sense of how it feels to speed across the Continent, or a feel for how the track rattled beneath them as they went.
Not that what they're doing feels secondary to that kind of experience. Quite the contrary; there's a different kind of anticipation working its way through him, a separate sense of adventure than the kinds he usually seeks out. The sight of the cards before him reminds him of the one he's keeping his pocket; reaching inside his jacket, he slides it free of its leather sleeve, revealing that it's mostly clean and well-kept, then gently tosses it onto the table with the others before leaning back against the seat and fixing Sciel with a look of contemplation. No extra thought is necessary, really – the question he'd come up with back during their game hasn't left him – but he does need to build himself up to its asking.
He laughs a bit at her comment on being lenient, hoping she means it.]
Well, I was thinking. It helps to know someone before guiding them, right? So, I want to know what they have to say about me. You know, generally speaking.
[It's a question that opens him up to interpretation; he knows and accepts this. However wary he feels about that, it's better than pretending to have a question about his future when it's been decades since he's left his path open to interpretation. Besides, he still has a great amount of trust in Sciel. He's sure he'll be fine. Probably. He's sure he'll probably be fine.]
[ Sciel follows the card as he produces it, sliding it across the table. Her smile twitches upward as she quickly assesses its condition (totally fine), and then it's back among its fellows in a flourished shuffle. ]
"What the cards say about you..." [ Unconventional, but interesting. She chuckles, cutting the deck a few times.
Someone else -- someone with her level of control over the cards -- might manipulate the deck to produce tailored results. That wouldn't be a true reading, of course, and she respects both the art of tarot and the man she's reading for too much for anything like that. Besides, Sciel is both naturally insightful and straightforward; if she wants to know something, she'll ask. If she wants to say something, she'll say it.
Wordlessly, then, she works her magic. Out of the deck comes the first card and it surprises another laugh out of her. ]
The Fool again! Ah, but I'm getting ahead of myself: we're looking at the cards' assessment of you over the past, present, and future. Sort of an overarching opinion for a more complete picture. So this represents your past.
[ He'll remember that the card isn't an insult, but she contextualizes it further: ] The cards paint a picture of a free spirit. Someone who felt they had everything they needed, who was comfortable where they were. The white rose in the image represents a level of innocence, and the dog at his feet is a symbol of loyalty. Again: there are challenges on the horizon, but those aren't the Fool's concern, at least for the moment. Where he is, he's able to really relax, and enjoy life as it comes. Though we can see that those times are coming to an end...
[ The language she uses doesn't directly make specific assumptions about his past and life before, so she peeks up again with an inquisitive glint in her eyes, studying his expression. ]
So...they're basically saying things were a lot easier for you back then. Pre-Fracture? [ Back when he could ski and play music and drink the night away.
[The first card reveals itself and Verso's laughter joins Sciel's, though not before he gives it a look like he and the card have become rivals, despite its not-unflattering meaning. Both are partly expressions of nerves – it'll take him a bit before those fade more – but that doesn't really ring clear. He comes across as casual, comfortable. As if he's man without more reality-devastating secrets than any one person should ever bear.
Which is perfect, really, because Sciel begins her reading and Verso finds himself in need of all the composure, all the armour, all the poker-faced interest that he can summon forth.
At the time it was true – he had thought he was exceptionally fortunate. Even with the imperfections of his life, even with the strains of being a Dessendre, even as he struggled, sometimes, to figure out the paths he wanted to walk, he had enough sense to know that his life was a good life, fulfilling in most of the ways he needed it to be.
Now, though, it's still true in the sense that he carries those feeling inside of him, but learning the reality of the world and his place within it has caused them to warp and discolour, and he considers what Sciel is saying in that light more so than the other. Someone who was set up to have everything they needed. Someone who was created to be comfortable. Someone whose ignorance was a form of innocence and whose loyalty to the woman who's caused all this suffering remains in place to this fucking date, even if that loyalty is different from how she'd ever have wanted it to be.
He swallows down a sigh and offers up a response.]
Pretty much, yeah. The world was my oyster and all that.
[Except that there were no pearls to find because that was his role, granted to him by his mother. Another sigh is lost to his stubbornness; another reply is offered in its place.]
[ Sciel doesn't overly stare at her companion, instead glancing politely away to take in more details of the train, only occasionally glancing past his face as he chews on her reading. She's running a hand over the plush velvet of the seat when he indicates they should move on, nodding once before drawing the next card and laying it beside the Fool. ]
Ten of Wands, reversed. [ She frowns slightly, idly tapping a finger on the table. ] ...Wands generally are associated with strength, determination. Inspiration. And fire, which-... I don't think I need to tell you the kinds of things associated with fire.
[ Helpful, or destructive. Symbolic of everything from enthusiasm to sex. She doesn't make use of the opportunity to flirt since she's at least trying to provide as legitimate a reading as possible, as promised. ]
So, the Ten. [ He'll see on its face that it features a man trying (struggling) to carry an unwieldy bundle of sticks. ] Reversed. The cards say...you're taking on too much by yourself. Neglecting the resources around you, burning yourself out under the weight of it all. [ There's a pause before she adds, lightly -- and while keeping her eyes to the card -- ] Sometimes this is because the burden is private, and you don't feel like you can share it, even if you wanted to. But...if it's any consolation, however you handle it, it won't last forever. You'll be able to set it all down before too long.
[ Finally she looks up, sharp green eyes rising to meet his, should he look back at her. ]
This is the kind of 'dark and personal' I was talking about, by the way. [ Her features soften again: she isn't pressing, only joking. Sciel is well aware that readings, even done for fun, can stir up some things that were for the recipient to sort through, and not for her to poke at.
[Fire. Of course it's fire. If Verso didn't know any better he'd think that Sciel was reading him rather than the cards, but of course that isn't possible, so he tries to maintain a look of calm contemplation even as his lips try to curve into a frown and his brows threaten to furrow.
Still, he crooks a halved smile and shoots a halved shrug, both saying you have no idea in a language he doesn't expect her to understand, a language shared between himself and his other.]
Yeah, I'd say I've dealt with enough fire to last a few lifetimes.
[Said easily, as if there's no greater meaning to it than needing fire to stay warm, to light the night, to prepare meals. As if the only flames that have ever harmed him are those cast his way by the Nevrons.
As Sciel continues her reading, Verso leans further back, crossing an ankle over a knee, maintaining his unbothered affectations, an ever-increasingly difficult prospect as her insights keep landing on target, resonating through him blow after blow after blow. It's the last part that hits him the hardest, though, the thought of setting everything down before too long. A trickle of relief works its way through him, a shudder of dread making its own presence known, though only to himself. He does not want to live. He does not want anyone to die. If only both were possible.
All the same, the way she throws them back to the whole dark and personal thing earns a genuine laugh, light and soft, rooted in something incredulous though, again, he's able to mask it in time.]
You're never going to let that go, are you?
[The tone of his voice suggests that he doesn't mind, even if he remains a bit wary. His masks may have started chafing around Sciel, but they're still comfortable, still familiar, still things he's reluctant to shed. Even if he suspects that she's intuitive enough to see right through them.
Those thoughts find him fidgeting with his thumb, but it's slight enough that he barely notices it himself.]
[ Maybe it's a little odd, the way he phrases the bit about fire, but not so much that it generates any thought beyond the initial, mental "huh." Sciel instead responds to his question, smiling innocently and offering a one-shouldered shrug. ]
Not yet. [ Maybe someday! But probably not.
Speaking of the future... She flips a final card, laying it beside the Ten of Wands in the line so that his past, present, and future are all neatly displayed between them. ]
Queen of Wands, reversed. [ There's an interested little 'hmm' at that. ] The deck really associates you with this suit, then. [ Sciel files that little tidbit away, as a point of curiosity. ] Right. This suggests...you'll reach a point of confidence in the future, one where you're more secure in your personal truth than you are now. You'll be aware of how others feel, or what they stand for, but those opinions won't sway you. At this point, there'll be a clear idea of 'success' in your mind, but it may not be one that you share with others.
[ ... ]
...It can also mean you might withdraw a bit more than usual, spending some time...reflecting. More of a bystander or a spectator while other things are in motion. It's this time apart that'll help solidify the confidence I mentioned, and...to help you really figure out who 'you' are, outside of others' expectations. Whatever those may be.
[ There's a pause for the requisite gravitas of a tarot reading, and then she leans back in her seat with what's intended to be a reassuring smile, though with a curious glance his way. ]
So...the cards think you were someone who used to live with a lot more freedom of spirit than you have now, who's since taken on quite a lot of...burdens, if not responsibilities, which you're slow to share with others. And that, soon, you'll be able to set those things down and feel secure in doing so, even if you're the only one who feels that way.
[ Sciel doesn't ask what he thinks about it all. She merely summarizes, returning both hands to her lap and giving him a minute to chew on the reading as he will, allowing her attention to drift to the train's decor and its cozy, warm interior.
...Well, maybe it isn't her attention that drifts: just her eyes. Because she's very much still thinking about the cards, and about Verso, and about how it all might fit in her assessment of the man thus far... ]
[Verso's hands itch to steeple over his nose, to rub over his eyes, to cradle the whole of his face in their palms. Almost like he's the proverbial ostrich with its head in the sand, free from having to actually reflect on what Sciel has shared so long as he doesn't see the spread of cards between them.
Having come into this with few expectations beyond that original it'll probably be fine has left him at a bit of a disadvantage. Maybe he ought to have considered the possibility that the cards would lay out the trajectory of his life with the simplicity of describing the sky as blue and dirt as brown, but then he might have talked himself out of this and gone for something dumb and inconsequential like whether he'd ever exact his vengeance against Serpenphare.
And besides, Sciel isn't wrong; he does owe her something more than another flippant skirting of the dark and the personal.
He owes her more than a downplaying of the reading, too, so he doesn't try to deny anything she says, acting like the cards have missed their mark, perhaps cracking an obnoxious joke about how he must be a mystery even to them. Still, it's hard for him to outright admit that the reading resonates with him, never mind how deeply, so he hints at it instead, still a bit of a coward when it comes to revealing the parts of himself he doesn't think he could ever explain.]
Okay, now get them to tell me where I left my book of sheet music. The one with the purple leather jacket.
[But even if the words feel safe, they don't feel right. So, he shifts back into something more upfront, more sincere.]
No, seriously, it was insightful. I can see why you turn to them for guidance. But you got me curious about something else, so I want to seek some of your wisdom, too: Being associated with... Wands, right? Is it noteworthy or nah?
[He hasn't forgotten about the dual reading; he owes it Sciel to not simply rush past his and into hers as well.]
[ She hardly minds the joke. There's an amused little smile in reply, one fueled further by the idea of a purple leather jacket. ]
Sadly, I think that lies beyond their abilities. [ He does seem appreciative of what had come from the reading, though, taking it to heart in what's honestly the most appropriate way: acknowledging, weighing the words, but holding them at a distance. Fortune is fickle, and such things should guide a person's life, not rule it. ]
Noteworthy? Hmm. [ Sciel cocks her head as she considers the question. ] It depends what you mean. They seem relevant to you in the context of the reading. Any other meaning...is really given to it based on how you internalize what I said. Know what I mean? Each suit has its own unique associations, but they can all be significant to a person, or in a given situation. So: I think it sounds like it aligns well with what little I know of you, but people aren't one-dimensional. If I'd drawn two cards from Cups, I'm sure we could draw conclusions that made sense there, too.
[ There's always meaning to be found in these things, no matter the result. For someone well-practiced in the art, anyway. ]
I guess I owe you some of what these cards have to say about me, then, yeah? [ Her hand hovers over The Fool for a moment before she pulls it back to rest on the edge of the table, gaze drifting again to the window.
Sciel has no problem revealing most of herself, when it comes up, but there are some things...she still holds close to her chest. ]
...The Fool's an easy one for someone's past since it's tied to beginnings. [ Her head turns again, focus returning to the card in question, which she picks up and holds between two fingers. ] But, since it has no number like the rest of the Major Arcana, it can also represent the entirety of a person's journey through life. Useful, no?
[ As for what it says about her history... ]
It could honestly work for a lot of things. Marriage, teaching, setting off on the expedition. [ The card flips back and forth as her fingers twitch; Sciel is clearly lost in thought, drifting back through time a bit and not seeing the beautiful train car around them, or the man who'd brought them there. ] It suggests a leap of faith. About...taking the next step even when you don't feel ready.
[ The card is often associated, too, with free spirits, as many would consider her to be. ]
I think it sums up well a lot of my life. It's natural to worry about a big change, but you should just go for it. That's this card's suggestion, anyway. And everything'll be okay. [ ... ] ...No, that's not it. Everything...will work out the way it will.
[ Not a comforting distinction for everyone, but she seems perfectly at peace with it. ]
I wouldn't be here, otherwise. [ Is how she wraps up this section of her dual reading, seeming to return to the moment with the warmth of her expression now turned his way. ]
Verso thinks he understands what Sciel is saying – that it's more about the sequence than the suit – which finds him nodding along by the end, a little tentatively given his inexperience, but not in a way that might come across as being lost or confused. Still, he holds back from seeking that little bit of clarity through confirmation or correction. The way she answers his question has made him realise that he doesn't really want to know. That little bit of mystery gives everything more depth for him to sink into. It reasserts how comfortable he is in her presence.]
Right. That makes sense. [Is what he offers in the end.] It's a feeling, not a formula.
[Another reassertion comes as she transitions into her own reading: he is still very curious to learn more about her. A desire that does soften, somewhat, over the way she almost seems to hesitate, how her gaze travels away. Not because he doesn't want to know about her own darkness, her own personal secrets she doesn't often share, but rather because the tone of his anticipation has necessarily shifted into something less intrigued and more present.
A feeling that lingers as she continues speaking, half wandering somewhere that Verso can't follow her into.
When she corrects herself, though, some of that newfound tension dissipates. Maybe it's not the most universally comforting notion, that things will simply be and that being won't always mean better, but Verso finds it resonates more with him. He's grown too weary of fantasy, too familiar with the kinds of harm it causes. He'd rather buy into the notion that everything has its end.
Her final observation gives him pause, though. Here can mean a great many things. And so without really thinking about what he's asking – thank you, long-dormant social skills – he just goes ahead and speaks.]
[ It's a simple reply, a short one, but there's something that's difficult to discern there. Sciel has fixed him with her full attention, expression particularly relaxed. She often appears at ease, but this is one of those times where the daily difficulties and dangers they face truly feel as though they've been left at the bottom of the mountain, and they can just...live.
The interior of the car is now cozier than ever, and the wonderland outside continues to glisten with ethereal beauty. If a person were a romantic, they might recognize that things have naturally played out such that it's an ideal scenario to test certain waters. ...Sciel is still primarily occupied with completing her own reading, but she lets herself (again) unabashedly appreciate Verso's many attractive features where they exist in front of her. What ties them all together in a particularly-appealing package are the moments of zeal she's seen from him as they've talked more, when he lets his guard down a little to enthuse about his past, his passions, the things he wants to be able to show her in the world.
Those playful eyes return to the cards. And though she would never manipulate the cards, there's no harm in adding flavour to the reading that may help with her increasingly-appealing ulterior motive, should the opportunity arise. ]
Ten of Wands. [ With a small flash of Chroma, The Fool returns to its place in line, and the card representing her present appears in its place between her waiting fingers. ] Well, to be honest, this probably works for any expeditioner. "Share the load with others, don't go at it alone." I think I'm alright here, but it's a good reminder. [ Easy to fall into the trap of trying to take on too much to keep the burden off others' shoulders, particularly with Maelle, who they all so desperately want to keep safe.
There's another pause as she realizes another of the implications of this card that she'd ascribed to him, and which would be, perhaps, hypocritical to keep from herself. So she chooses her path at the crossroads, adopting a tone that suggests she's willing to say as much, but not elaborate: ] ...Like everybody, I've got some...things from the past that are still weighing on me. That's no surprise.
[ He knows she'd had a husband who'd died. He knows about Gustave, obviously, and the rest of the 33s. Any one of those things alone would be enough to warrant the assessment, even without...
The Ten of Wands is encouragement to share those painful memories, and so begin to heal. But when she imagines telling Verso...
No. It's too soon. The idea makes her feel sick. ]
It may also be a sign to purge that which isn't serving you, which I'm taking to mean I need to go through my bag and declutter a bit.
[ Now who's being flippant and evasive? ]
Edited (when you notice a typo the second you hit submit :l) 2025-11-16 16:20 (UTC)
[That with you could also mean a great many things – even more than here did on its own if he lets his heart wander away with his imagination – but Verso thinks better than to keep pressing, not wanting to disturb the aura of peace she has about her, not wanting to challenge the way he relaxes in turn, though there's a prickling at the edge of his conscience that once again calls what he's doing into question.
It's left to prickle as he catches her observing him again; this time, it's not shyness that dominates his reaction, but rather intrigue and interest, a new kind of light brightening his eyes.]
It is a very nice train car.
[And the company even better. The tone of his expression shifts as she continues her own reading but it doesn't lessen; in fact, it blooms when she follows up with the darker side of the implications, though it dims as well as the distance to her voice registers. An acknowledgement, then, and not an invitation. This time, Verso holds himself back from asking.
And maybe that final sentiment is a bit flippant, but Verso meets it with gentle laughter, unbothered.]
Yeah, well, let me know if you do; I'm running low on just about everything.
[Life on the Continent do be like that.
Now, he leans forward, elbows on the table, hands folded, chin resting on his thumbs. Though his lips are a bit obscured, there's no hiding how he smiles, amused and content and curious, awaiting whatever tidbit she'll offer up next.]
So. Confidence now, right?
[Said with his own confidence, perhaps a bit out of place considering how little he actually knows about the cards. But whatever. He still wouldn't mind being corrected.]
[ Oh. He leans in, prompts her to continue with a set of words she finds particularly compelling, and she wonders if she might be on the right track after all. ...Possible train pun unintended.
(Maybe it should be intentional, though. He'd probably like it.) ]
Right. [ Sciel replies slowly, and this time she sets the Ten down manually and replaces it with the Queen, holding it upside down to indicate its reversed state. ] I know myself, and I need to use that personal comfort to make my next move. To take action with the security that it's the right thing for me, no matter what other expectations may exist.
[ For example: it's probably ill-advised to get involved in anything remotely in this arena as an expeditioner, given the not-unrealistic chance she's killed tomorrow, or in a few days, or next week. But...hey, if the cards are saying fuck it, then fuck it, right?
This reading of her future says "you're too focused outward; look within." And when she does, it's no surprise, really, what's waiting for her. So she sets the card down again, sweeping a hand over the line to disappear all three, laying the surface between them bare.
Confidence now, right? ]
...I like the little stove, [ She remarks, apropos of nothing. Her eyes are not on the stove, though, and are instead locked to his...before drifting deliberately down to his lips, and then back. ] But I could be warmer.
[ Sciel feels her intentions are clear, but that would remain to be seen. He might needed it spelled out further, which she'd happily oblige. He may also not be interested, which...she realizes will have its pang of disappointment, but she'll get over it. Whatever happens, she's enjoyed their time together so far. But...to not seize the opportunity that this reading has afforded her would've been a waste.
[Verso may have his moments of social obliviousness – naturally, of course, given the depths and extents of his isolation – but he's not wholly hopeless. As Sciel picks up one hand of cards – in a manner of speaking, anyway – she lays down another that he finds a lot more readable than tarot. An abbreviation of what the last card says. Talk of making moves. That look, that goddamned look in her eye as her focus trails to his lips.
Subconsciously, his tongue slips out to wet them. His own gaze never leaves her eyes, though, if only because he's too captivated by how she looks at him to be able to bear looking away.
It's her comment on the stove that drives everything home, that fills him with unignorable bursts of nervousness and excitement and a kind of adrenaline that he hasn't felt in entirely too long. An obnoxious voice at the back of his head tries to get him to question whether she just means to have him add more wood to the fire, but he latches on to that I like it, but... with rare fervency. It means something, he thinks and feels and wishes and dreams, that only the weakest of his doubts can deny.
He leans back again, his expression almost shifting into one of deep concentration. He is a weak, weak man, though, and it's been a long time since anyone's hinted at the kind of interest Sciel has – fuck, he hopes he's not misreading things – so it's a bit more wild than not, brimming with freedom.]
Mm, we can't have that. Allow me.
[An offering he makes as he slides himself out of the booth and scoots in beside Sciel. Who, he observes, doesn't look at him like he's lost his mind, or try to pull away, or do anything that might signal that he's got the wrong impression. His heartbeat thunders all the more in his chest, but he's able to maintain most of his composure.]
I've been told I run hot, you know.
[Proximity can only accomplish so much; they both know that, and Verso's not going to sit back like a coward and lean on Sciel to confirm that proximity alone isn't going to be nearly enough. Ever increasingly emboldened, he hooks a finger under her chin and brushes his thumb across her lips.]
But, I could stand to be warmer, too.
[Soon, very soon, that graze of his thumb makes way for the press of his lips, and his breath goes forgotten in that first moment of contact, the kiss sure and yet unsure, eager and yet patient, featherlight even as his free hand moves to the back of Sciel's neck, fingers gently curling around the dangling strands of her ponytail as he holds her just a bit closer.]
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tableauvivant) wrote2025-09-17 01:14 pm
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That's all right, though; he never backs down, and he feels unusually safe with Sciel, like she'll see what's there and won't twist his words or use them against him, like she'll know which of his secrets to keep. Which feels a bit scary in spite of that safety, and that thought has him letting out a huff of a laugh as he looks away for a moment, once again feeling stupidly, almost boyishly shy.
It really has been a long time since he's experienced genuine, meaningful human connection in general, never mind with someone as extraordinary as Sciel.]
You're not wrong.
[No might have left him half expecting Sciel to go gentle with him. Not so much now.]
But got it. I'll come up with something good.
[It's a pride thing. And it's a rare burst-of-manners thing that finds him collecting the cards into a pile, tucking them away, then rising to his feet and offering her a hand to join her.]
May I escort you back to camp?
[Speaking of camp, his voice drips with it a bit.]
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Oh, merci. [ Sciel accepts it with a little chuckle and rises to her feet. Maybe she takes an extra beat before releasing her grasp, enjoying the brief warmth of his grip in her own: the comfort she always gets, as a touch-friendly person, when making that contact with another.
If it's something she especially savours because of the hand's owner, well. ]
And if we run into any Nevrons on the way back, don't worry: I'll keep us both safe. So you can focus on the escorting.
[ Her lips pull upward again with fond, teasing grin.
She finds herself wishing they had more time, for...another game, another conversation. Start on the reading now, maybe. There's something about their shared evening that has her feeling more at ease than usual, and definitely more excited for the next night at camp where they find themselves with a moment to spare, and share.
Assuming she hasn't died by then, that is. ]
Shall we?
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[The escorting. What he leaves unsaid is that the importance of the work is directly proportionate to that of the company he's keeping, still unsure how to read into the energy between them. A prospect that's made all the more complicated by the lingering of her hand in his own, that lilt of a tease to her grin.
At least there's the promise of more. Should fate favour them, anyway. Tarot and music, snow and carousels, beauty in places both odd and expected. Those thoughts are enough to hold back the slight edge of disappointment that might have otherwise made itself known in the tone of his voice as he meets her request with his confirmation, moving them that much closer to ending their evening.]
We shall.
[They head back to camp. Wander off their separate ways and into sleep. Morning comes and the group continues journeying to Monoco's Station. Grass soon makes way for the first patches of snow, and by the time they're inside – for a certain definition of inside, anyway – the cold has settled in and nobody's ready to continue further onwards until they rest up, warm up, get more acclimated to the chill that none of them really came prepared to endure.
Except for Verso, but he's had decades to prepare himself.
Up until the evening, the Grandis make for good company; then, they're off to put the events of the day down on paper, and the 33s are left with a moment to exist. Those will become rarer by the day, Verso knows – things never unfold any differently in the Canvas – so once he's spent some time catching up with Monoco, he slips away to find Sciel, wherever she might have wandered off to herself.
When he finds her, he moves to step into place beside her. It feels oddly natural, oddly right, and he has to stop himself from moving in just a little bit closer.]
Hey. [Said softly, looking over his shoulder.] You busy?
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Through their companion and the locals, they get some of the history of the place: another brush stoke in the incomplete painting that is the distant past. The image of trains running through the Continent is grand, dreamy. The mythical Grandis who live in one of the icy stations of the old train lines are similarly grand and dreamy, offering their gentle musings and snappy poetry to any of the 33s who inquire. And while both of these novelties are enough to capture the attention of the former farmer, Sciel is more completely occupied with the main event. The feature of the area she'd been promised, and where Verso finds her once he seeks her out.
Snow. Snow! She stands in about a foot of it, staring out at the blanketed landscape with an expression of earnest thrill and wonder, when she turns on him when he approaches. ]
Just finishing something up. [ Sciel crouches down, taking some snow into her hand before straightening up again. She closes her fingers around it, making it a bit more compact, and then wraps both hands around the lump, which melts quickly with their warmth.
Once the snow has gone completely she returns her arms to her sides, and her gaze to him. The smile widens further. ]
All done. For now. [ ...As if she can't help it, her head turns back to the snowy expanse, eyes nearly sparkling with glee. ] I know you're probably used to it, but...it's incredible. More beautiful than I pictured.
[ Pierre would be just as enraptured. With the usual pang of mingled love and loss, she pictures his reaction. Pictures shoving him into a snow bank, both laughing, rolling around in the fluffy mass until their skin tingled with discomfort. ]
...I haven't forgotten you mentioning danger. [ She adds lightly, turning to return her attention to the man at her side. ] But I admit: I'm feeling a lot more excited than worried at the moment.
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It only gets better from here, too.
[The beauty, anyway. The cold will get worse, and trudging through deep snow gets old about three steps in, but there's no point in ruining the wonder of the moment with the shittiness of what awaits them in the morning. Caring about the danger can wait, too; they're reasonably safe here – safe enough that Verso seems more relaxed than usual as he looks out into the sky – and with Monoco agreeing to travel with them, he's feeling more at peace with things in general.
A fragile peace, to be sure, given how all peace in the Canvas is fleeting, but that's all the more reason to embrace it while they still can. Right now, for him, that means reaping his earlier rewards. He'd been hoping they'd stop here, actually, mainly so the others can take a night or two to recuperate while they have roofs over their heads and the Grandis to keep them company, but also because he knows this place well, too. And though he might not consider it to be anywhere near as much of a home as Frozen Hearts was, its familiarity is comforting in the same way. Something he'd like to share. So:]
Lucky for you, I know exactly where to go to keep the danger away. It's a bit of a walk, but not too bad of one. I was thinking we could head over there now, if it's a good time for that reading...? Or if you wouldn't mind the company if it isn't.
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I'll hold you to that. [ Sciel replies, sing-song, though she doesn't doubt him.
There's a lot she could ask about since their arrival -- the snow aside, she has a lot of questions about the Station itself, and the Grandis, and Monoco of course -- but...suspects that once she's warmed up a bit, Lune will tie Verso down for her own interrogation. So she lets him off the hook (for the moment, at least), quirking a curious brow at his suggestion. ]
I don't mind a walk. [ And certainly doesn't mind more of the rare instances they've had so far where they managed to find some time to chat, just the two of them. In fact, it's something that's been at the fore of her mind since their last meeting: a new light at the end of every possibly-deadly tunnel they barrel down on a daily basis. ] Now's a great time.
[ The snow's everywhere, so it isn't as if she'll miss out on it if they go elsewhere. So Sciel gestures in the dramatized bow that Verso favors, smile again skewing teasing. ]
Après vous.
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Or so it's felt, anyway. So it still feels when she imitates his bow, and he makes an incoherent formal gestures of acceptance with one wrist.]
Merci beaucoup, mademoiselle.
[Then, he heads towards one of the most put-together railway tracks that stretches skyward – he did not say they would be walking on flat ground – and takes the first few track steps up before a particularly snaky gust of wind works its way around him enough to give him a slight chill. It's now that he looks back, remembering what Sciel is wearing, and points to her bare arms.]
You... don't happen to have something warmer than that, do you?
[The man has absolutely no idea what the Expeditioners do and don't bring with them, or how many of them know how to use pictos to make their own personal hammerspaces, or what they're even told about the Continent, for the most part. So, the question is purely genuine.]
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...Some of the less-pleasant features of their beautiful surroundings make themselves known in a brief gust, and Sciel draws her shoulders in against its bite, feeling the cold travel along her bare arms and midriff (where it chills the scar in particular). ]
Ah. [ Right. She'd been enjoying the unique experience of such deep cold when she'd just been standing in a low snow bank, but he's got a point that'll be key in not actually coming down with an illness or worse. It's too easy to picture the lecture she'd get if she returned from an "unnecessary" excursion with some sickness, and Sciel isn't that irresponsible, besides. So, just as she summons her scythe and cards, she produces a coat and gloves more like what Lune typically wears, donning them as she continues upward.
The front of the coat is still left open for now, though. It's not yet so painful that she wants to shut out the feeling entirely.
The Expeditions prepare for what they can, with the limited knowledge they have, and getting nothing sent back to the city from those who came before. They've known there are mountains, have some extent of preparation for the cold, though nothing that would allow for extended survival in these conditions (or the more intense and deadly cold he's hinted at). This'll have to do for now, and maybe next time Lune can provide the extra warmth of a handheld fire. ...Next time they're moving as a group, anyway. Much as she loves her fellow 33, close friend, and former hookup, these rare occasions that she and Verso are carving out are...well, preferably spent with just the pair of them. ]
For the record, I would've figured something out, if not this. [ Sure, they could just have the reading back at camp around a fire and protected from the wind, but where's the adventure in that? ] I'm sure you know lots of creative ways to stay warm out here, with all of your ancient wisdom.
[ If there is any innuendo laced through her words, then her usual, pleasant expression doesn't tip her hand. ]
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[Not that it's ever stopped him. Having someone hand you one outfit or another whenever you meet is nice when you've spent sixty-seven years wearing the same damned thing.
The rest of what Sciel says gets taken at face value; Verso's mind perks up slightly at the thought of ways they might warm each other – starlight making way for firelight, open skies hidden behind shelter, distances cleared and breaths shared – but he doesn't read anything into it. Which is what finds him taking the Dumb Forestman approach instead.]
Honestly? My ancient wisdom has taught me that the best way is to keep moving. Nothing gets the cold on you quicker than sitting around and waiting for it to go away.
[Continuing their trek up the track path as it rises ever higher reveals more of the landscape: snow-capped mountains and evergreens in white jackets, the moonlight and starlight hitting the snow like glitter. At this angle, the Monolith dips behind the mountains, the Paintress left to her lonely grieving, her number momentarily relegated to memory. Views like this are, naturally, Verso's favourites. Anything that gives him a moment's respite from the feeling of that sword dangling over all their heads.
More importantly, though, up ahead a train car balances almost perfectly in the air, wide windows opening from both sides onto forest: one wintry, one coloured like autumn. It's a rare luxury on the Continent for something from before the Fracture to be in one piece, never mind reasonably utilisable, and the closer they get, the lighter Verso's step becomes.
Still, he stops just ahead of it, at the highest peak of the track, and nods out into the distance.]
The views don't get much better than this.
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[ Sciel is no fashionista herself, but it'd take someone very dull indeed to not find joy and intrigue in something like this. And what kind of person doesn't get excited about a new jacket or pair of shoes or whatever every often in a while, even if only for functional reasons?
There is no disappointment in her face as Verso doesn't take the (potentially flirtatious) bait. Sciel is rarely disappointed, and this is no exception. Besides, it's far from the death knell of her shooting her shot in the future, and so she humors the conversation's direction with a hum of agreement. ]
Well, it's good thing we're already doing that. I feel warmer already.
[ Actually, it's getting cold by the minute, but that's neither here nor there. In fact, any notion of discomfort is easily forgotten as they ascend higher and higher, finally coming to a halt as her guide slows to a stop.
Sciel's breath is stolen with the wind, but it's okay. Around her is one of the most indescribably beautiful sights that she's ever had the pleasure to witness. ]
Verso... [ Those striking green eyes are wide with surprise and she turns in place as if trying to take it all in at once. She has to lift a hand to keep flyaways that have escaped from her bun from getting in her eyes, but it's an automatic gesture, and so she keeps the hand absently held up alongside her face as she just...stares.
In a brief and rare moment of absolute insanity, part of her feels like it'd be nice to just stay up here forever. To set aside their deadly mission indefinitely in favor of this view, and conversation, and card games and card readings and music and probably the best sweep of stars she's ever seen in her life, and maybe the hypothermia would get her, but falling asleep and never waking up doesn't sound so bad.
Sciel returns to herself before long, but the sparkle in her eyes from the initial impact of the view is still there, shining away. ]
This is amazing. [ She'd maybe set the bar too high when she'd assessed the simple existence of snow as a ten out of ten, not realizing quite how stunning it could get in symphony with everything else. ] It's...indescribable.
[ A memory she'll emblazon in her mind, for sure. To go back to when things are not quite as rosy. ]
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So, instead he lets out a soft laugh, still enamoured by her brightness.]
Trust me, there's no missing him.
[On account of the massive red beret, but where's the fun in revealing that detail upfront?
He has a much better time pointing out the details of the landscape, where colours peek out from the snow and ever-burning fires cast their own pink-orange glitter across the ground, where stories can be read into the shapes of rocks, where mountains kiss the stars, guiding Sciel on a languid tour of the world before them, even as the cold bleeds deeper and deeper into his bones.
Lest he spoil everything that awaits them past the station, Verso stops cautiously short of revealing too much, letting the landscape keep its secrets for now as he ushers Sciel ahead into the train. An opulent passenger car, it combines marbled black and gold with gold accents – all sharp angles and straight lines – and plush, purple velvet seating, both in booths and in chairs. Still-lit crystal empire chandeliers line the roof, casting a warm glow onto everything, and a small, black, wood-fired caboose stove sits off in the corner aside a well-disturbed stack of firewood.]
Welcome aboard. [He offers after a moment.] Would the lady care to choose her seat?
[Shocking development: the train nerd enjoys train roleplay.]
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Whatever the case, it's incredibly engaging (both the bits he points out, and the way he goes about it). Even more so when he finally leads them into the train car, stepping aside so she can take it all in.
The interior is dazzling, but in a way that is wholly distinct from the snow-blanketed world outside. She steps further in, glancing around with a dreamy sort of smile, because it does all feel like a dream. Most things like this that were pre-Fracture are...well, fractured. Only fragments of whatever they used to be with undeniable beauty, but incomplete nonetheless. Which is why getting to experience something like this is a very rare occasion indeed.
Gold and black again. She chuckles faintly, cocking her head at the walls. There certainly was a popular design scheme back then, given how much they've seen it crop up... ]
Oh, yes. 'The lady' would. [ With an excited little lift of her brows turned in his direction, she moves ahead, glancing around at the plush seats before settling into a booth.
Sciel immediately glances out of the window as if drawn magnetically again to the snow, but before long she extricates her attention so she can return it to Verso, patting the surface of the table in front of her. ]
Is there someone else who can manage the train so the conductor can keep his passengers company? [ There's the usual twinkle in her eye as she regards him, waiting for him to sit opposite.
In the meantime, the deck of cards appears in front of her with a small flash. ]
So...have you decided on your question? Or 'questions,' if you couldn't choose. I'll be lenient.
[ Says the former teacher. ]
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I suppose that can be arranged.
[After he sits down, he closes his eyes for a slight while longer than a blink, taking in the long-gone yet still-familiar feeling of heading off on safer adventures than those he usually gets up to, these days. If only he could get the train to whistle, now; if only Sciel could get a sense of how it feels to speed across the Continent, or a feel for how the track rattled beneath them as they went.
Not that what they're doing feels secondary to that kind of experience. Quite the contrary; there's a different kind of anticipation working its way through him, a separate sense of adventure than the kinds he usually seeks out. The sight of the cards before him reminds him of the one he's keeping his pocket; reaching inside his jacket, he slides it free of its leather sleeve, revealing that it's mostly clean and well-kept, then gently tosses it onto the table with the others before leaning back against the seat and fixing Sciel with a look of contemplation. No extra thought is necessary, really – the question he'd come up with back during their game hasn't left him – but he does need to build himself up to its asking.
He laughs a bit at her comment on being lenient, hoping she means it.]
Well, I was thinking. It helps to know someone before guiding them, right? So, I want to know what they have to say about me. You know, generally speaking.
[It's a question that opens him up to interpretation; he knows and accepts this. However wary he feels about that, it's better than pretending to have a question about his future when it's been decades since he's left his path open to interpretation. Besides, he still has a great amount of trust in Sciel. He's sure he'll be fine. Probably. He's sure he'll probably be fine.]
literally rng'd this card again lmao
"What the cards say about you..." [ Unconventional, but interesting. She chuckles, cutting the deck a few times.
Someone else -- someone with her level of control over the cards -- might manipulate the deck to produce tailored results. That wouldn't be a true reading, of course, and she respects both the art of tarot and the man she's reading for too much for anything like that. Besides, Sciel is both naturally insightful and straightforward; if she wants to know something, she'll ask. If she wants to say something, she'll say it.
Wordlessly, then, she works her magic. Out of the deck comes the first card and it surprises another laugh out of her. ]
The Fool again! Ah, but I'm getting ahead of myself: we're looking at the cards' assessment of you over the past, present, and future. Sort of an overarching opinion for a more complete picture. So this represents your past.
[ He'll remember that the card isn't an insult, but she contextualizes it further: ] The cards paint a picture of a free spirit. Someone who felt they had everything they needed, who was comfortable where they were. The white rose in the image represents a level of innocence, and the dog at his feet is a symbol of loyalty. Again: there are challenges on the horizon, but those aren't the Fool's concern, at least for the moment. Where he is, he's able to really relax, and enjoy life as it comes. Though we can see that those times are coming to an end...
[ The language she uses doesn't directly make specific assumptions about his past and life before, so she peeks up again with an inquisitive glint in her eyes, studying his expression. ]
So...they're basically saying things were a lot easier for you back then. Pre-Fracture? [ Back when he could ski and play music and drink the night away.
Her expression softens a little. ]
Shall we move on to the present?
the fool will be HEARD
Which is perfect, really, because Sciel begins her reading and Verso finds himself in need of all the composure, all the armour, all the poker-faced interest that he can summon forth.
At the time it was true – he had thought he was exceptionally fortunate. Even with the imperfections of his life, even with the strains of being a Dessendre, even as he struggled, sometimes, to figure out the paths he wanted to walk, he had enough sense to know that his life was a good life, fulfilling in most of the ways he needed it to be.
Now, though, it's still true in the sense that he carries those feeling inside of him, but learning the reality of the world and his place within it has caused them to warp and discolour, and he considers what Sciel is saying in that light more so than the other. Someone who was set up to have everything they needed. Someone who was created to be comfortable. Someone whose ignorance was a form of innocence and whose loyalty to the woman who's caused all this suffering remains in place to this fucking date, even if that loyalty is different from how she'd ever have wanted it to be.
He swallows down a sigh and offers up a response.]
Pretty much, yeah. The world was my oyster and all that.
[Except that there were no pearls to find because that was his role, granted to him by his mother. Another sigh is lost to his stubbornness; another reply is offered in its place.]
Let's.
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Ten of Wands, reversed. [ She frowns slightly, idly tapping a finger on the table. ] ...Wands generally are associated with strength, determination. Inspiration. And fire, which-... I don't think I need to tell you the kinds of things associated with fire.
[ Helpful, or destructive. Symbolic of everything from enthusiasm to sex. She doesn't make use of the opportunity to flirt since she's at least trying to provide as legitimate a reading as possible, as promised. ]
So, the Ten. [ He'll see on its face that it features a man trying (struggling) to carry an unwieldy bundle of sticks. ] Reversed. The cards say...you're taking on too much by yourself. Neglecting the resources around you, burning yourself out under the weight of it all. [ There's a pause before she adds, lightly -- and while keeping her eyes to the card -- ] Sometimes this is because the burden is private, and you don't feel like you can share it, even if you wanted to. But...if it's any consolation, however you handle it, it won't last forever. You'll be able to set it all down before too long.
[ Finally she looks up, sharp green eyes rising to meet his, should he look back at her. ]
This is the kind of 'dark and personal' I was talking about, by the way. [ Her features soften again: she isn't pressing, only joking. Sciel is well aware that readings, even done for fun, can stir up some things that were for the recipient to sort through, and not for her to poke at.
...Much. ]
And...what the cards think of your future?
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Still, he crooks a halved smile and shoots a halved shrug, both saying you have no idea in a language he doesn't expect her to understand, a language shared between himself and his other.]
Yeah, I'd say I've dealt with enough fire to last a few lifetimes.
[Said easily, as if there's no greater meaning to it than needing fire to stay warm, to light the night, to prepare meals. As if the only flames that have ever harmed him are those cast his way by the Nevrons.
As Sciel continues her reading, Verso leans further back, crossing an ankle over a knee, maintaining his unbothered affectations, an ever-increasingly difficult prospect as her insights keep landing on target, resonating through him blow after blow after blow. It's the last part that hits him the hardest, though, the thought of setting everything down before too long. A trickle of relief works its way through him, a shudder of dread making its own presence known, though only to himself. He does not want to live. He does not want anyone to die. If only both were possible.
All the same, the way she throws them back to the whole dark and personal thing earns a genuine laugh, light and soft, rooted in something incredulous though, again, he's able to mask it in time.]
You're never going to let that go, are you?
[The tone of his voice suggests that he doesn't mind, even if he remains a bit wary. His masks may have started chafing around Sciel, but they're still comfortable, still familiar, still things he's reluctant to shed. Even if he suspects that she's intuitive enough to see right through them.
Those thoughts find him fidgeting with his thumb, but it's slight enough that he barely notices it himself.]
Hit me.
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Not yet. [ Maybe someday! But probably not.
Speaking of the future... She flips a final card, laying it beside the Ten of Wands in the line so that his past, present, and future are all neatly displayed between them. ]
Queen of Wands, reversed. [ There's an interested little 'hmm' at that. ] The deck really associates you with this suit, then. [ Sciel files that little tidbit away, as a point of curiosity. ] Right. This suggests...you'll reach a point of confidence in the future, one where you're more secure in your personal truth than you are now. You'll be aware of how others feel, or what they stand for, but those opinions won't sway you. At this point, there'll be a clear idea of 'success' in your mind, but it may not be one that you share with others.
[ ... ]
...It can also mean you might withdraw a bit more than usual, spending some time...reflecting. More of a bystander or a spectator while other things are in motion. It's this time apart that'll help solidify the confidence I mentioned, and...to help you really figure out who 'you' are, outside of others' expectations. Whatever those may be.
[ There's a pause for the requisite gravitas of a tarot reading, and then she leans back in her seat with what's intended to be a reassuring smile, though with a curious glance his way. ]
So...the cards think you were someone who used to live with a lot more freedom of spirit than you have now, who's since taken on quite a lot of...burdens, if not responsibilities, which you're slow to share with others. And that, soon, you'll be able to set those things down and feel secure in doing so, even if you're the only one who feels that way.
[ Sciel doesn't ask what he thinks about it all. She merely summarizes, returning both hands to her lap and giving him a minute to chew on the reading as he will, allowing her attention to drift to the train's decor and its cozy, warm interior.
...Well, maybe it isn't her attention that drifts: just her eyes. Because she's very much still thinking about the cards, and about Verso, and about how it all might fit in her assessment of the man thus far... ]
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Having come into this with few expectations beyond that original it'll probably be fine has left him at a bit of a disadvantage. Maybe he ought to have considered the possibility that the cards would lay out the trajectory of his life with the simplicity of describing the sky as blue and dirt as brown, but then he might have talked himself out of this and gone for something dumb and inconsequential like whether he'd ever exact his vengeance against Serpenphare.
And besides, Sciel isn't wrong; he does owe her something more than another flippant skirting of the dark and the personal.
He owes her more than a downplaying of the reading, too, so he doesn't try to deny anything she says, acting like the cards have missed their mark, perhaps cracking an obnoxious joke about how he must be a mystery even to them. Still, it's hard for him to outright admit that the reading resonates with him, never mind how deeply, so he hints at it instead, still a bit of a coward when it comes to revealing the parts of himself he doesn't think he could ever explain.]
Okay, now get them to tell me where I left my book of sheet music. The one with the purple leather jacket.
[But even if the words feel safe, they don't feel right. So, he shifts back into something more upfront, more sincere.]
No, seriously, it was insightful. I can see why you turn to them for guidance. But you got me curious about something else, so I want to seek some of your wisdom, too: Being associated with... Wands, right? Is it noteworthy or nah?
[He hasn't forgotten about the dual reading; he owes it Sciel to not simply rush past his and into hers as well.]
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Sadly, I think that lies beyond their abilities. [ He does seem appreciative of what had come from the reading, though, taking it to heart in what's honestly the most appropriate way: acknowledging, weighing the words, but holding them at a distance. Fortune is fickle, and such things should guide a person's life, not rule it. ]
Noteworthy? Hmm. [ Sciel cocks her head as she considers the question. ] It depends what you mean. They seem relevant to you in the context of the reading. Any other meaning...is really given to it based on how you internalize what I said. Know what I mean? Each suit has its own unique associations, but they can all be significant to a person, or in a given situation. So: I think it sounds like it aligns well with what little I know of you, but people aren't one-dimensional. If I'd drawn two cards from Cups, I'm sure we could draw conclusions that made sense there, too.
[ There's always meaning to be found in these things, no matter the result. For someone well-practiced in the art, anyway. ]
I guess I owe you some of what these cards have to say about me, then, yeah? [ Her hand hovers over The Fool for a moment before she pulls it back to rest on the edge of the table, gaze drifting again to the window.
Sciel has no problem revealing most of herself, when it comes up, but there are some things...she still holds close to her chest. ]
...The Fool's an easy one for someone's past since it's tied to beginnings. [ Her head turns again, focus returning to the card in question, which she picks up and holds between two fingers. ] But, since it has no number like the rest of the Major Arcana, it can also represent the entirety of a person's journey through life. Useful, no?
[ As for what it says about her history... ]
It could honestly work for a lot of things. Marriage, teaching, setting off on the expedition. [ The card flips back and forth as her fingers twitch; Sciel is clearly lost in thought, drifting back through time a bit and not seeing the beautiful train car around them, or the man who'd brought them there. ] It suggests a leap of faith. About...taking the next step even when you don't feel ready.
[ The card is often associated, too, with free spirits, as many would consider her to be. ]
I think it sums up well a lot of my life. It's natural to worry about a big change, but you should just go for it. That's this card's suggestion, anyway. And everything'll be okay. [ ... ] ...No, that's not it. Everything...will work out the way it will.
[ Not a comforting distinction for everyone, but she seems perfectly at peace with it. ]
I wouldn't be here, otherwise. [ Is how she wraps up this section of her dual reading, seeming to return to the moment with the warmth of her expression now turned his way. ]
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[He really does miss that sheet music.
Verso thinks he understands what Sciel is saying – that it's more about the sequence than the suit – which finds him nodding along by the end, a little tentatively given his inexperience, but not in a way that might come across as being lost or confused. Still, he holds back from seeking that little bit of clarity through confirmation or correction. The way she answers his question has made him realise that he doesn't really want to know. That little bit of mystery gives everything more depth for him to sink into. It reasserts how comfortable he is in her presence.]
Right. That makes sense. [Is what he offers in the end.] It's a feeling, not a formula.
[Another reassertion comes as she transitions into her own reading: he is still very curious to learn more about her. A desire that does soften, somewhat, over the way she almost seems to hesitate, how her gaze travels away. Not because he doesn't want to know about her own darkness, her own personal secrets she doesn't often share, but rather because the tone of his anticipation has necessarily shifted into something less intrigued and more present.
A feeling that lingers as she continues speaking, half wandering somewhere that Verso can't follow her into.
When she corrects herself, though, some of that newfound tension dissipates. Maybe it's not the most universally comforting notion, that things will simply be and that being won't always mean better, but Verso finds it resonates more with him. He's grown too weary of fantasy, too familiar with the kinds of harm it causes. He'd rather buy into the notion that everything has its end.
Her final observation gives him pause, though. Here can mean a great many things. And so without really thinking about what he's asking – thank you, long-dormant social skills – he just goes ahead and speaks.]
Here as in...?
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[ It's a simple reply, a short one, but there's something that's difficult to discern there. Sciel has fixed him with her full attention, expression particularly relaxed. She often appears at ease, but this is one of those times where the daily difficulties and dangers they face truly feel as though they've been left at the bottom of the mountain, and they can just...live.
The interior of the car is now cozier than ever, and the wonderland outside continues to glisten with ethereal beauty. If a person were a romantic, they might recognize that things have naturally played out such that it's an ideal scenario to test certain waters. ...Sciel is still primarily occupied with completing her own reading, but she lets herself (again) unabashedly appreciate Verso's many attractive features where they exist in front of her. What ties them all together in a particularly-appealing package are the moments of zeal she's seen from him as they've talked more, when he lets his guard down a little to enthuse about his past, his passions, the things he wants to be able to show her in the world.
Those playful eyes return to the cards. And though she would never manipulate the cards, there's no harm in adding flavour to the reading that may help with her increasingly-appealing ulterior motive, should the opportunity arise. ]
Ten of Wands. [ With a small flash of Chroma, The Fool returns to its place in line, and the card representing her present appears in its place between her waiting fingers. ] Well, to be honest, this probably works for any expeditioner. "Share the load with others, don't go at it alone." I think I'm alright here, but it's a good reminder. [ Easy to fall into the trap of trying to take on too much to keep the burden off others' shoulders, particularly with Maelle, who they all so desperately want to keep safe.
There's another pause as she realizes another of the implications of this card that she'd ascribed to him, and which would be, perhaps, hypocritical to keep from herself. So she chooses her path at the crossroads, adopting a tone that suggests she's willing to say as much, but not elaborate: ] ...Like everybody, I've got some...things from the past that are still weighing on me. That's no surprise.
[ He knows she'd had a husband who'd died. He knows about Gustave, obviously, and the rest of the 33s. Any one of those things alone would be enough to warrant the assessment, even without...
The Ten of Wands is encouragement to share those painful memories, and so begin to heal. But when she imagines telling Verso...
No. It's too soon. The idea makes her feel sick. ]
It may also be a sign to purge that which isn't serving you, which I'm taking to mean I need to go through my bag and declutter a bit.
[ Now who's being flippant and evasive? ]
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It's left to prickle as he catches her observing him again; this time, it's not shyness that dominates his reaction, but rather intrigue and interest, a new kind of light brightening his eyes.]
It is a very nice train car.
[And the company even better. The tone of his expression shifts as she continues her own reading but it doesn't lessen; in fact, it blooms when she follows up with the darker side of the implications, though it dims as well as the distance to her voice registers. An acknowledgement, then, and not an invitation. This time, Verso holds himself back from asking.
And maybe that final sentiment is a bit flippant, but Verso meets it with gentle laughter, unbothered.]
Yeah, well, let me know if you do; I'm running low on just about everything.
[Life on the Continent do be like that.
Now, he leans forward, elbows on the table, hands folded, chin resting on his thumbs. Though his lips are a bit obscured, there's no hiding how he smiles, amused and content and curious, awaiting whatever tidbit she'll offer up next.]
So. Confidence now, right?
[Said with his own confidence, perhaps a bit out of place considering how little he actually knows about the cards. But whatever. He still wouldn't mind being corrected.]
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(Maybe it should be intentional, though. He'd probably like it.) ]
Right. [ Sciel replies slowly, and this time she sets the Ten down manually and replaces it with the Queen, holding it upside down to indicate its reversed state. ] I know myself, and I need to use that personal comfort to make my next move. To take action with the security that it's the right thing for me, no matter what other expectations may exist.
[ For example: it's probably ill-advised to get involved in anything remotely in this arena as an expeditioner, given the not-unrealistic chance she's killed tomorrow, or in a few days, or next week. But...hey, if the cards are saying fuck it, then fuck it, right?
This reading of her future says "you're too focused outward; look within." And when she does, it's no surprise, really, what's waiting for her. So she sets the card down again, sweeping a hand over the line to disappear all three, laying the surface between them bare.
Confidence now, right? ]
...I like the little stove, [ She remarks, apropos of nothing. Her eyes are not on the stove, though, and are instead locked to his...before drifting deliberately down to his lips, and then back. ] But I could be warmer.
[ Sciel feels her intentions are clear, but that would remain to be seen. He might needed it spelled out further, which she'd happily oblige. He may also not be interested, which...she realizes will have its pang of disappointment, but she'll get over it. Whatever happens, she's enjoyed their time together so far. But...to not seize the opportunity that this reading has afforded her would've been a waste.
À toi de jouer, Verso. ]
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Subconsciously, his tongue slips out to wet them. His own gaze never leaves her eyes, though, if only because he's too captivated by how she looks at him to be able to bear looking away.
It's her comment on the stove that drives everything home, that fills him with unignorable bursts of nervousness and excitement and a kind of adrenaline that he hasn't felt in entirely too long. An obnoxious voice at the back of his head tries to get him to question whether she just means to have him add more wood to the fire, but he latches on to that I like it, but... with rare fervency. It means something, he thinks and feels and wishes and dreams, that only the weakest of his doubts can deny.
He leans back again, his expression almost shifting into one of deep concentration. He is a weak, weak man, though, and it's been a long time since anyone's hinted at the kind of interest Sciel has – fuck, he hopes he's not misreading things – so it's a bit more wild than not, brimming with freedom.]
Mm, we can't have that. Allow me.
[An offering he makes as he slides himself out of the booth and scoots in beside Sciel. Who, he observes, doesn't look at him like he's lost his mind, or try to pull away, or do anything that might signal that he's got the wrong impression. His heartbeat thunders all the more in his chest, but he's able to maintain most of his composure.]
I've been told I run hot, you know.
[Proximity can only accomplish so much; they both know that, and Verso's not going to sit back like a coward and lean on Sciel to confirm that proximity alone isn't going to be nearly enough. Ever increasingly emboldened, he hooks a finger under her chin and brushes his thumb across her lips.]
But, I could stand to be warmer, too.
[Soon, very soon, that graze of his thumb makes way for the press of his lips, and his breath goes forgotten in that first moment of contact, the kiss sure and yet unsure, eager and yet patient, featherlight even as his free hand moves to the back of Sciel's neck, fingers gently curling around the dangling strands of her ponytail as he holds her just a bit closer.]
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