Isn’t that what it’s like on an Expedition, though? You all get it. You’re all in the same boat— quite literally.
[ Then again, most of her Expedition’s already dead by now, so. Whoops.
Verso still remembers the camaraderie of Zero, before it all fell apart: they were on a dire mission, but they were at least on a mission together. Part of him has felt like an outsider ever since; even when he tagged along with any given Expedition, even if Maelle gifted him with an armband to try to make him feel like one of the group, he still wasn’t one of them. They’ve been welcoming him in, but there’s perpetually that slight invisible barrier between them, the wall of all the things he wasn’t saying.
(How much of that was him getting in his own head about it, though? He knew about the lies and omissions, and either that made him imagine the distance, or maybe they could subconsciously tell there was something subtly wrong. Even when Lune was being friendly nowadays, she sometimes frowned at him in a way which made him panic that the woman could probably see right through him.)
The trail of Sciel’s fingertips along his arm is delightfully ticklish, and he drains the rest of his glass so he can roll over and lie down next to her, elbow-to-elbow. He wordlessly slides over the plate, so they could finally start digging into some nourishment after their exercise. ]
Oh, no. [ Sciel is quick to refute, her voice light. Unbothered. ] Well — yeah, we're all in the same boat, but people are different as night and day. Just because we're staring down the likely end of our lives doesn't mean everyone's interested in the same distractions. Or any distractions at all.
[ Though Lune has, since the Expedition began, rescinded her having called friends 'distractions,' they'd left it at that. Sciel has no intention of pushing, and Lune is singularly focused on their mission, particularly now with Gustave gone. If ever the other woman does want to step outside of their dire quest for an hour to lose herself in simple physicality, Sciel will be there.
For now, though, there's at least one other person at camp on the same wavelength, which returns to her original point. ]
So...yeah. There's a lot of shared experience there, and shared perspective on some things, but not everything.
[ She offers a bit of a shrug as she takes the offered plate, picking at the cheese and crackers, making the occasional contented noise in the face of yet another rare indulgence. ]
You've really set the bar high. [ Sciel sighs, draining her second glass and setting it aside so it rests alongside the now near-empty plate. ] When tomorrow night I find myself eating rations dressed in my full uniform, I'll be so disappointed.
Did you ever hear about Sixty’s approach? [ Verso muses, crunching through another cracker. It was twenty-seven years ago, but some records might’ve survived at the Academy. ] They went about their expedition entirely nude, and they got astonishingly far across the Continent. Perhaps our group could steal a page out of their book.
[ Monoco would probably be more than game for it; the gestral barely adhered to social standards as-is. Maelle and Lune would be mortified. At least it’s a very funny mental image to consider.
And. Sciel probably hadn’t meant to dangle an implicit question there — the woman tends to says exactly what she means — but Verso soon finds his thoughts meandering towards it regardless. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. What then? ]
For the record. If you do find yourself in need of a similar distraction again, along the way— [ he starts, uncommonly hesitant but trying to say it outright. ] Then I’m available.
[ In their dwindling available time before they reach the Monolith and it presumably all goes to hell in a handbasket, he could think of worse diversions than winding down in the evening with Sciel. Sex wore at the muscles in a way which wasn’t combat and getting your arse handed to you by Nevrons. It tended to help him sleep; he’ll probably crash like a stone later tonight, after they get washed up and slink their way back to camp. ]
[ Sixty. Sciel probably wouldn't have been able to distinguish them from the others (to be fair, Gustave has fangirled about a lot of past Expeditions over the course of their friendship) except for the fact that they had been...well. ]
I remember. [ And she laughs, shaking her head hopelessly at the mental image. ] Hard to believe they managed as much as they did. But...even with my complaints, I think we're going about it the right way. I'm sure they had some nasty cuts where you don't want them.
[ Lune doesn't wear shoes, but that's one thing. To be completely naked and traipse all over the mountains gives Sciel a little chill, in spite of the pleasant night.
While she finishes the last bite of a particularly good morsel (a cracked laden with jam, a nibble of cheese placed on top), Verso goes quiet. Once he speaks up again, making his continued interest known, her preserves-sweet lip curls. ]
Very good to know. [ Comes the reply, her voice light. Because he's putting himself out there, though, and the whole subject has the potential to come with its own complications, she adds: ] I think it helps, and I'm definitely interested, if there's opportunity. But if you change your mind, then no hard feelings.
[ Keeping it casual is the name of the game. The way to keep a distraction, as he says, from taking root and becoming another item on a list of things to mourn.
With that mutual intention now voiced, Sciel stretches a little, inhaling and exhaling in a satisfied breath before starting to shift, flipping over and drawing herself into a seated position on the blanket. ]
Whenever you're ready. [ There's a little jerk of her head toward the river: the necessary and final step of their very enjoyable evening. And though the idea is to wash away the evidence of their little tryst, the memory itself will help carry her through some of the inevitable difficulties to come...and hopefully to the next, similar rendezvous, too. ]
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no subject
[ Then again, most of her Expedition’s already dead by now, so. Whoops.
Verso still remembers the camaraderie of Zero, before it all fell apart: they were on a dire mission, but they were at least on a mission together. Part of him has felt like an outsider ever since; even when he tagged along with any given Expedition, even if Maelle gifted him with an armband to try to make him feel like one of the group, he still wasn’t one of them. They’ve been welcoming him in, but there’s perpetually that slight invisible barrier between them, the wall of all the things he wasn’t saying.
(How much of that was him getting in his own head about it, though? He knew about the lies and omissions, and either that made him imagine the distance, or maybe they could subconsciously tell there was something subtly wrong. Even when Lune was being friendly nowadays, she sometimes frowned at him in a way which made him panic that the woman could probably see right through him.)
The trail of Sciel’s fingertips along his arm is delightfully ticklish, and he drains the rest of his glass so he can roll over and lie down next to her, elbow-to-elbow. He wordlessly slides over the plate, so they could finally start digging into some nourishment after their exercise. ]
no subject
[ Though Lune has, since the Expedition began, rescinded her having called friends 'distractions,' they'd left it at that. Sciel has no intention of pushing, and Lune is singularly focused on their mission, particularly now with Gustave gone. If ever the other woman does want to step outside of their dire quest for an hour to lose herself in simple physicality, Sciel will be there.
For now, though, there's at least one other person at camp on the same wavelength, which returns to her original point. ]
So...yeah. There's a lot of shared experience there, and shared perspective on some things, but not everything.
[ She offers a bit of a shrug as she takes the offered plate, picking at the cheese and crackers, making the occasional contented noise in the face of yet another rare indulgence. ]
You've really set the bar high. [ Sciel sighs, draining her second glass and setting it aside so it rests alongside the now near-empty plate. ] When tomorrow night I find myself eating rations dressed in my full uniform, I'll be so disappointed.
yours to 🎀?
[ Monoco would probably be more than game for it; the gestral barely adhered to social standards as-is. Maelle and Lune would be mortified. At least it’s a very funny mental image to consider.
And. Sciel probably hadn’t meant to dangle an implicit question there — the woman tends to says exactly what she means — but Verso soon finds his thoughts meandering towards it regardless. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. What then? ]
For the record. If you do find yourself in need of a similar distraction again, along the way— [ he starts, uncommonly hesitant but trying to say it outright. ] Then I’m available.
[ In their dwindling available time before they reach the Monolith and it presumably all goes to hell in a handbasket, he could think of worse diversions than winding down in the evening with Sciel. Sex wore at the muscles in a way which wasn’t combat and getting your arse handed to you by Nevrons. It tended to help him sleep; he’ll probably crash like a stone later tonight, after they get washed up and slink their way back to camp. ]
salutes
I remember. [ And she laughs, shaking her head hopelessly at the mental image. ] Hard to believe they managed as much as they did. But...even with my complaints, I think we're going about it the right way. I'm sure they had some nasty cuts where you don't want them.
[ Lune doesn't wear shoes, but that's one thing. To be completely naked and traipse all over the mountains gives Sciel a little chill, in spite of the pleasant night.
While she finishes the last bite of a particularly good morsel (a cracked laden with jam, a nibble of cheese placed on top), Verso goes quiet. Once he speaks up again, making his continued interest known, her preserves-sweet lip curls. ]
Very good to know. [ Comes the reply, her voice light. Because he's putting himself out there, though, and the whole subject has the potential to come with its own complications, she adds: ] I think it helps, and I'm definitely interested, if there's opportunity. But if you change your mind, then no hard feelings.
[ Keeping it casual is the name of the game. The way to keep a distraction, as he says, from taking root and becoming another item on a list of things to mourn.
With that mutual intention now voiced, Sciel stretches a little, inhaling and exhaling in a satisfied breath before starting to shift, flipping over and drawing herself into a seated position on the blanket. ]
Whenever you're ready. [ There's a little jerk of her head toward the river: the necessary and final step of their very enjoyable evening. And though the idea is to wash away the evidence of their little tryst, the memory itself will help carry her through some of the inevitable difficulties to come...and hopefully to the next, similar rendezvous, too. ]