[Verso holds back a sigh; they'll probably never reach true consensus on what he is. Real one sense, but not the other. The distinction feels important for him to make; no matter the reality of his existence, it's the fantasy surrounding it that's always had the greatest impact and, to him, begs the most recognition.
Or maybe that's the stubbornness talking. The decades spent writing himself off as if that might help erase him from the story of his mother's madness.
And while Verso does feels a certain draw towards adhering to his original idea of doing absolutely fuck all when it comes to matters of consequence, he's also still a bit caught up in that need-to-feel state he'd been in when Clive first brought the train to life. He is himself, yes, Verso-future-Rosfield, but he has a responsibility to make things right for Verso Dessendre and Verso-the-soul, too, doesn't he? Everything he is is built upon everything they've lost.
And right now, right feels a little like bringing him home. Giving him his own space in the manor. So:]
Don't worry about it, it won't take long. Plus, I'll get to take you flying.
[ "Don't worry about it" is something that Verso usually says when there is, in fact, something to worry about; like pressing fingers into a red, burn-raw palm. That said, they're both grown men, and nothing good comes of coddling someone who should have some say in how he navigates the fucked-up world he's been unwillingly brought into. It's a process, but Clive can trust Verso to know where his limits lie.
Besides, there seems to be an upside. Flying. Right on the heels of talking about Esquie and the rock that Verso has been withholding from him. Clive softens at the mention of it. ]
Disbanding our shadowy league of rogues so soon?
[ They had a nice little secret going on! For all of thirty minutes, but. You know. Clive says so as if he was attached to the idea at all (he wasn't), and as if Esquie wouldn't have been able to nudge the truth out of him if Esquie ever seemed Super Sad about not having his rock.
For the best, really, that they fly now before Clive accidentally gives it all away. ]
If that's what you want. [ Without sarcasm or deference. Sincerely, Clive is happiest when Verso is exercising his autonomy. ] Let's fly.
[Ah, the shadowy league of rogues. Verso laughs to commemorate what may be the shortest-lived league in the history of the Canvas, then shrugs a hand.]
Shifting focuses. You never know when we'll need to arrange a heist.
[Probably never, honestly, considering how the worst of Verso's worries about Esquie flying people around aren't likely to become factors with Clive. And also how shitty it would be to steal the rock; Verso's convinced himself that withholding it is a different beast, and that's a line he's not willing to cross, barring a set of circumstances so extreme that he can't even picture them himself.
Anyway, that's besides the point. Reaching out, he runs a hand through Clive's hair as if to preview what the wind might look like through it, then gives him a peck that reads like a see you soon before nodding first towards Alicia's room, then towards the front door.]
Go let Joshua know. I'll head off and call Esquie over, so meet me outside the cave?
[Which should still be clear of Nevrons. He hopes. If not, well, he's dealt with worse. As long as he can get them cleared up before Clive makes his way out, it's fine.]
[ Alright, is Clive's easy concession before they untangle and get ready for what Clive presumes is a short trip, though he hasn't any real idea about the details. Which is what he tells Joshua when he makes his way to the borrowed bedroom, where his brother is nested on the bed with two different books open and his journal on his lap.
"Short on specifics as usual, Clive," Joshua smiles. He looks a little pale, which is concerning; Clive finds his worry brushed aside with ease and a promise that everything is fine (a running theme when it comes to the people Clive cares most about in the world, this insistence that all is well), followed by an apologetic addendum when he presumably notes the vague signs of distress creeping into Clive's expression. "I would hardly have thought to insinuate myself into an outing meant for the two of you, but even if I'd felt inclined, I don't think today would be the best day for it. I'll rest, so you go enjoy yourself. Please."
Please is strategic－ Clive can deny his brother very little. He relents, but not without a promise to eventually share with Joshua whatever paints they procure in the future.
His brother's boyish delight at the suggestion is enough. Clive leaves without his edges feeling too frayed, dips into Verso's room to change into proper traveling gear, demolishes a bit more of the charcuterie board, then heads out into the biting cold of Frozen Hearts to brave his way through the dim, ice-painted cave.
(Traces of their encounter with Clea have been lost to new snow and Nevron trails; Clive moves quickly past where he remembers the painted cage to have sat, oppressive and immovable in the gloom.)
He's sure Esquie must have reunited with his rock by the time he reaches the cave's exit. He sees the shadow of the big friendly giant before he sees the rounded curves of the creature himself, and sheathes Invictus before approaching the two figures waiting for him in the near distance. ]
Sorry to keep you two waiting. [ A nod to Esquie, and Clive raises one hand in greeting. ] Esquie.
[ "Mon ami! You came just in time for us to share the good news!" A full-bodied wiggle on Esquie's part, as he shifts towards Verso. "Oh, tell him the good news, Verso!" ]
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flamebrand) wrote2024-09-08 02:07 pm
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Or maybe that's the stubbornness talking. The decades spent writing himself off as if that might help erase him from the story of his mother's madness.
And while Verso does feels a certain draw towards adhering to his original idea of doing absolutely fuck all when it comes to matters of consequence, he's also still a bit caught up in that need-to-feel state he'd been in when Clive first brought the train to life. He is himself, yes, Verso-future-Rosfield, but he has a responsibility to make things right for Verso Dessendre and Verso-the-soul, too, doesn't he? Everything he is is built upon everything they've lost.
And right now, right feels a little like bringing him home. Giving him his own space in the manor. So:]
Don't worry about it, it won't take long. Plus, I'll get to take you flying.
[Sorry, Soarrie, you're going home.]
no subject
Besides, there seems to be an upside. Flying. Right on the heels of talking about Esquie and the rock that Verso has been withholding from him. Clive softens at the mention of it. ]
Disbanding our shadowy league of rogues so soon?
[ They had a nice little secret going on! For all of thirty minutes, but. You know. Clive says so as if he was attached to the idea at all (he wasn't), and as if Esquie wouldn't have been able to nudge the truth out of him if Esquie ever seemed Super Sad about not having his rock.
For the best, really, that they fly now before Clive accidentally gives it all away. ]
If that's what you want. [ Without sarcasm or deference. Sincerely, Clive is happiest when Verso is exercising his autonomy. ] Let's fly.
no subject
Shifting focuses. You never know when we'll need to arrange a heist.
[Probably never, honestly, considering how the worst of Verso's worries about Esquie flying people around aren't likely to become factors with Clive. And also how shitty it would be to steal the rock; Verso's convinced himself that withholding it is a different beast, and that's a line he's not willing to cross, barring a set of circumstances so extreme that he can't even picture them himself.
Anyway, that's besides the point. Reaching out, he runs a hand through Clive's hair as if to preview what the wind might look like through it, then gives him a peck that reads like a see you soon before nodding first towards Alicia's room, then towards the front door.]
Go let Joshua know. I'll head off and call Esquie over, so meet me outside the cave?
[Which should still be clear of Nevrons. He hopes. If not, well, he's dealt with worse. As long as he can get them cleared up before Clive makes his way out, it's fine.]
no subject
"Short on specifics as usual, Clive," Joshua smiles. He looks a little pale, which is concerning; Clive finds his worry brushed aside with ease and a promise that everything is fine (a running theme when it comes to the people Clive cares most about in the world, this insistence that all is well), followed by an apologetic addendum when he presumably notes the vague signs of distress creeping into Clive's expression. "I would hardly have thought to insinuate myself into an outing meant for the two of you, but even if I'd felt inclined, I don't think today would be the best day for it. I'll rest, so you go enjoy yourself. Please."
Please is strategic－ Clive can deny his brother very little. He relents, but not without a promise to eventually share with Joshua whatever paints they procure in the future.
His brother's boyish delight at the suggestion is enough. Clive leaves without his edges feeling too frayed, dips into Verso's room to change into proper traveling gear, demolishes a bit more of the charcuterie board, then heads out into the biting cold of Frozen Hearts to brave his way through the dim, ice-painted cave.
(Traces of their encounter with Clea have been lost to new snow and Nevron trails; Clive moves quickly past where he remembers the painted cage to have sat, oppressive and immovable in the gloom.)
He's sure Esquie must have reunited with his rock by the time he reaches the cave's exit. He sees the shadow of the big friendly giant before he sees the rounded curves of the creature himself, and sheathes Invictus before approaching the two figures waiting for him in the near distance. ]
Sorry to keep you two waiting. [ A nod to Esquie, and Clive raises one hand in greeting. ] Esquie.
[ "Mon ami! You came just in time for us to share the good news!" A full-bodied wiggle on Esquie's part, as he shifts towards Verso. "Oh, tell him the good news, Verso!" ]