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Hello. I don't believe we've met, but I'm putting together a contact sheet for those of us with abilities to be able to reach out to each other easier, since we're fairly spread out for this mission. Care to volunteer?
Hello! Pleased to meet you, Jayce. I'd be happy to be of any help.
General combat and field skills. I can manipulate darkness, and am a good field medic. Normally I'd say put me right in the thick of things, as I'm a very good fighter, but right now I'm best in a supporting role.
In its simplest form, it’s just an element. People can be cradled or devoured by it the same way they can be warmed or burned by fire.
Wielded, it’s a life force. Darkness is desire and greed and fear. People who don’t have the discipline to manage those things in themselves can find it turned against them by people like me.
Where appropriate, of course.
Wielded, it’s a life force. Darkness is desire and greed and fear. People who don’t have the discipline to manage those things in themselves can find it turned against them by people like me.
Where appropriate, of course.
I’m afraid I can only guess at what that means.
Is that your way of saying you don’t believe me?
Well, thank you for your trust, then. Spares me setting up a stage and you a whole lot of card tricks.
[A beat.]
Had a good turnout so far?
[A beat.]
Had a good turnout so far?
Everything’s more interesting with card tricks, I guarantee it.
Security concerns? Over a name and few measly skills?
Security concerns? Over a name and few measly skills?
Maybe they're just shy. Or covering up for a bit of performance anxiety? It'd be embarrassing to say you can breathe fire or run across a continent in seconds and then fail to impress.
She felt good, all things considered. The weight of going back to the house every night hadn’t felt apparent until the moment she’d checked herself and Lune into a suite near the convention centre. Standing in the lobby, a completely stuffed rolling suitcase in one hand and the air crisp and artificial-feeling, she’d realized she would never have to go back. Perhaps it was callous to feel relief, but it was true, and marrow-deep in her bones. She’d needed it.
And who better to spend the rest of the mission with than Lune, a friend, a voice of reason? Sciel does not often reach for the logic of the moment over the feelings, but it feels right, at least for the time, and Lune needs her. Helping her isn’t something she’d even needed to question.
The suite that will be home for the next little while is one of the only ones available at short notice, but it’s no problem for her credit card, and certainly bigger than they need. There’s only one bed, a “king”, but that’s fine; Sciel can still starfish in her sleep without encroaching on Lune’s space. There’d sometimes been less space between their bedrolls around the fire, even. There’s a small kitchen that Sciel has no intention of using, a comedically small table with a single chair, and a shower that seems ludicrously large. Why not just install a bath? Who knows. She likes how temporary it feels, though. Americans seem to have a fondness for trying on and discarding things like they’re in infinite supply, and the hotel feels just as disposable. When they’re done, they can just leave.
It also means whatever’s said here can stay here, too.
And how even to start?
Sciel sits cross legged in front of the open suitcase, which has a heap of clothes. Credit card, remember? She sorts through pants and blouses and long skirts and hose and pretty shoes and blue jeans, fishing around for something Lune might prefer. Lune and her dark colours –– not even a sliver of the smart purple stripe the rest of them wore. Where she’s sat, she can see Lune herself on one side of the suite, and Maelle draped over the couch by the air conditioner. No Gustave. He has a date that is not a date with his wife who is not his wife. Good luck to him.
“You’re going to have people gawking at you if we don’t put you in something less formal,” Sciel says, sober despite the wine. “You and I are similar enough in size…”
She purses her lips as she holds up a sleeveless blouse, as if dressing Lune like a paper doll from across the room. Her eyes are sharp over the neckline. It’s not about the clothes, really. It never is. She’s thinking about when the questions will start, and that she might as well open the floodgates a little herself, before she starts to feel like they’ve been opened on her.
Plus, it’s only right and fair and all those things.
“Also… I thought Maelle and I should get you up to speed on the situation. Particularly with Verso and Gustave.”
And who better to spend the rest of the mission with than Lune, a friend, a voice of reason? Sciel does not often reach for the logic of the moment over the feelings, but it feels right, at least for the time, and Lune needs her. Helping her isn’t something she’d even needed to question.
The suite that will be home for the next little while is one of the only ones available at short notice, but it’s no problem for her credit card, and certainly bigger than they need. There’s only one bed, a “king”, but that’s fine; Sciel can still starfish in her sleep without encroaching on Lune’s space. There’d sometimes been less space between their bedrolls around the fire, even. There’s a small kitchen that Sciel has no intention of using, a comedically small table with a single chair, and a shower that seems ludicrously large. Why not just install a bath? Who knows. She likes how temporary it feels, though. Americans seem to have a fondness for trying on and discarding things like they’re in infinite supply, and the hotel feels just as disposable. When they’re done, they can just leave.
It also means whatever’s said here can stay here, too.
And how even to start?
Sciel sits cross legged in front of the open suitcase, which has a heap of clothes. Credit card, remember? She sorts through pants and blouses and long skirts and hose and pretty shoes and blue jeans, fishing around for something Lune might prefer. Lune and her dark colours –– not even a sliver of the smart purple stripe the rest of them wore. Where she’s sat, she can see Lune herself on one side of the suite, and Maelle draped over the couch by the air conditioner. No Gustave. He has a date that is not a date with his wife who is not his wife. Good luck to him.
“You’re going to have people gawking at you if we don’t put you in something less formal,” Sciel says, sober despite the wine. “You and I are similar enough in size…”
She purses her lips as she holds up a sleeveless blouse, as if dressing Lune like a paper doll from across the room. Her eyes are sharp over the neckline. It’s not about the clothes, really. It never is. She’s thinking about when the questions will start, and that she might as well open the floodgates a little herself, before she starts to feel like they’ve been opened on her.
Plus, it’s only right and fair and all those things.
“Also… I thought Maelle and I should get you up to speed on the situation. Particularly with Verso and Gustave.”
Lune is stood facing one of the windows, meticulously folding up her expedition sash into small squares, the emblazoned "33" staring up at her. She pauses, runs a thumb over the pattern. So many years of work, culminating into this. But there isn't any need for this now, is there? Their Expedition is done, and it both failed and succeeded. The Paintress is gone, but so is Lumière, and Lune is finding it hard to pin her hopes on some cosmic entity that has apparently promised their world returned to them in exchange for their efforts here, regardless of Sciel's optimism. She still isn't certain on the specifics of this deal.
Drinks at the restaurant had been good. She still can't believe Gustave is here, that they're all here. As much as that's a comfort, she also feels the slight distance between them and herself, having missed out on the experiences they'd gone through here without her.
Where's the reason in all this? Now that she's had a moment to think again, she just feels... overwhelmed, the wine in her belly both a help and hindrance. She hates feeling this unmoored.
What she's wearing feels rather incidental next to everything else, but she isn't going to stop Sciel from fussing, either. Not when even Lune can figure out that has nothing to do with her clothing or getting strange looks on the street.
She packs the folded up sash in her Pictos space for safekeeping and draws in a deep breath of the cool, crisp air. Air conditioning, she recalls distantly. Her focus sharpens when Sciel goes on, latching onto the lifeline thrown at her. She can do that. Focus on something else, find another issue to deal with that isn't her own mental state.
Lune turns, hands clasped loosely behind her back but her spine straight and shoulders back. Ready as always. "All right. Tell me."
Drinks at the restaurant had been good. She still can't believe Gustave is here, that they're all here. As much as that's a comfort, she also feels the slight distance between them and herself, having missed out on the experiences they'd gone through here without her.
Where's the reason in all this? Now that she's had a moment to think again, she just feels... overwhelmed, the wine in her belly both a help and hindrance. She hates feeling this unmoored.
What she's wearing feels rather incidental next to everything else, but she isn't going to stop Sciel from fussing, either. Not when even Lune can figure out that has nothing to do with her clothing or getting strange looks on the street.
She packs the folded up sash in her Pictos space for safekeeping and draws in a deep breath of the cool, crisp air. Air conditioning, she recalls distantly. Her focus sharpens when Sciel goes on, latching onto the lifeline thrown at her. She can do that. Focus on something else, find another issue to deal with that isn't her own mental state.
Lune turns, hands clasped loosely behind her back but her spine straight and shoulders back. Ready as always. "All right. Tell me."
Maelle watches Sciel and Lune from her spot on the couch. They're really only missing Esquie and Monoco, now. She thinks they could easily get lost in the busy convention near by, but it seems like they all have a knack for finding one another. Maybe next month they'll be reunited with another friend, and then another, and they'll come to see that maybe Etraya itself is the answer. Lumière was fine, but... would it be so bad to simply enjoy what Etraya has to offer?
"Verso and Gustave haven't exactly managed to hit it off," Maelle announces, staring up at the ceiling. "Verso's been Verso and wasn't very forthcoming with the truth about who his father is, among other things, and Gustave didn't like that. Rocky start."
It runs deeper than that, but Sciel can explain better than Maelle.
"It was a lot for both of them, meeting one another and... seeing where they stood among us. I guess."
When it should have been simple. Maelle is still surprised how badly that's gone. She sighs, reaching her palms up to press them into her eyes. Disaster Expedition indeed.
"Verso and Gustave haven't exactly managed to hit it off," Maelle announces, staring up at the ceiling. "Verso's been Verso and wasn't very forthcoming with the truth about who his father is, among other things, and Gustave didn't like that. Rocky start."
It runs deeper than that, but Sciel can explain better than Maelle.
"It was a lot for both of them, meeting one another and... seeing where they stood among us. I guess."
When it should have been simple. Maelle is still surprised how badly that's gone. She sighs, reaching her palms up to press them into her eyes. Disaster Expedition indeed.
Sciel hadn’t expected Maelle to start them off, but it is about what she expected. Some clarifications, then, for her friend who is fussy about details.
“To put a finer point on it, Verso didn’t tell Gustave that he’d known us and travelled with us for months,” Sciel clarifies. “So I gave it away when I arrived shortly after.”
Hearing Verso’s name out of Gustave’s mouth might have been a record scratch moment if she hadn’t been so consumed by Gustave’s mere existence, hale and whole in her arms. It had certainly grown on her heart over the following hours, though.
“Together we decided that the 33 should stick together, but I didn’t think it was right to have them both under one roof when Gustave knew so little and was so concerned about Renoir.”
Sciel pauses. All that seems to be quite enough information in one go, and for a beat she just looks at Lune, apologetic. She’s not really sure for what; it had to be done, but perhaps far more strategically.
“I backed Verso into a corner and made him tell Gustave.”
“To put a finer point on it, Verso didn’t tell Gustave that he’d known us and travelled with us for months,” Sciel clarifies. “So I gave it away when I arrived shortly after.”
Hearing Verso’s name out of Gustave’s mouth might have been a record scratch moment if she hadn’t been so consumed by Gustave’s mere existence, hale and whole in her arms. It had certainly grown on her heart over the following hours, though.
“Together we decided that the 33 should stick together, but I didn’t think it was right to have them both under one roof when Gustave knew so little and was so concerned about Renoir.”
Sciel pauses. All that seems to be quite enough information in one go, and for a beat she just looks at Lune, apologetic. She’s not really sure for what; it had to be done, but perhaps far more strategically.
“I backed Verso into a corner and made him tell Gustave.”
Lune watches Maelle in alert silence, listening to her opinion on the situation. She feels bad for Maelle, clearly torn between her two brother-figures, but she's also heard some iteration of Verso's been Verso more than once since showing up here. Her jaw tics slightly in low-grade annoyance at the man and his damned secretiveness.
Lune breathes out a long sigh, torn between weariness and irritation. "No. Of course he didn't."
Verso does not volunteer what he doesn't have to, but Lune wonders what was the point of keeping his knowledge of the 33 from Gustave in the first place. She thinks she needs to tread as cautiously as she can, here. She knows she has a more critical opinion of Verso than Maelle and Sciel do, and this is only a summary of the events from their point of view. Lune doesn't know precisely what's been said by whom. She'll need to speak with Gustave in private one of these days soon, see for herself where he's at. Probably Verso, too.
"Well, I can't say I'm surprised by any of this. It must've blindsided Gustave and I don't blame him for reacting poorly. It sounds like you made the right choice." Lune glances at Sciel, indicating the separation and forcing Verso to come clean both. Better Sciel than her, she wouldn't have very been gentle about it. Verso keeps making his bed; he's going to have to lay in it.
Lune frowns slightly, thinking back on what's been said.
"Why was Gustave concerned about Renoir?" Beyond the obvious, but Lune is still in the dark about the tiny detail that Renoir's actually there, too. She's trying to connect the dots, but they're incomplete as of yet. "He knows now that he was Verso's father, yes?" Is that the root of his suspicion?
Lune breathes out a long sigh, torn between weariness and irritation. "No. Of course he didn't."
Verso does not volunteer what he doesn't have to, but Lune wonders what was the point of keeping his knowledge of the 33 from Gustave in the first place. She thinks she needs to tread as cautiously as she can, here. She knows she has a more critical opinion of Verso than Maelle and Sciel do, and this is only a summary of the events from their point of view. Lune doesn't know precisely what's been said by whom. She'll need to speak with Gustave in private one of these days soon, see for herself where he's at. Probably Verso, too.
"Well, I can't say I'm surprised by any of this. It must've blindsided Gustave and I don't blame him for reacting poorly. It sounds like you made the right choice." Lune glances at Sciel, indicating the separation and forcing Verso to come clean both. Better Sciel than her, she wouldn't have very been gentle about it. Verso keeps making his bed; he's going to have to lay in it.
Lune frowns slightly, thinking back on what's been said.
"Why was Gustave concerned about Renoir?" Beyond the obvious, but Lune is still in the dark about the tiny detail that Renoir's actually there, too. She's trying to connect the dots, but they're incomplete as of yet. "He knows now that he was Verso's father, yes?" Is that the root of his suspicion?
Maelle sits up. Just thinking about Renoir makes acid threaten to crawl up her throat. Sitting upright offers only a little help, but she can breathe easier, and really hates how often Renoir comes up in conversation. He's a looming shadow over them--over their happy reunion, over this supposed healing Sciel keeps talking about.
"Renoir is here, Lune," Maelle says after a glance to Sciel. She frowns, then drops her gaze down to her knees, hands gripping the sofa cushion at either side of her. "Guess no one checks if you were a monster in life before ushering you in. And he's fucking everywhere, apparently."
They can't escape him. She bites her tongue, knowing spitting out threats here is pointless, but she can't help but think how much easier life would be right now if Renoir wasn't a problem. If she didn't have to worry about Verso, about Gustave, in relation to him.
"But yeah. Gustave knows now."
"Renoir is here, Lune," Maelle says after a glance to Sciel. She frowns, then drops her gaze down to her knees, hands gripping the sofa cushion at either side of her. "Guess no one checks if you were a monster in life before ushering you in. And he's fucking everywhere, apparently."
They can't escape him. She bites her tongue, knowing spitting out threats here is pointless, but she can't help but think how much easier life would be right now if Renoir wasn't a problem. If she didn't have to worry about Verso, about Gustave, in relation to him.
"But yeah. Gustave knows now."
Sciel watches Lune's expression shift, all those tiny, subtle changes chasing every little statement, and she feels herself pulling in a deep breath of her own. She's glad, too, that it was the right choice. Hesitant as she is to speak for Gustave's deeper feelings or thoughts on the matter, it would have all been so much worse if it had dragged out for weeks, and still, Sciel feels a quiet churn of anxiety in her stomach at the possibility of this whole thing going sideways and plunging right down a mountain face.
Renoir is going to be a big part of that. Between massacre and murder and the events of the Monolith, it's unavoidable.
She finds herself pushing the suitcase away from her on the floor, her hands falling to rest on her knees, and she looks up at Lune with contrition.
"But that's about all Gustave knows," Sciel says, carefully. "That and that we finished Renoir on the Monolith. But none of the circumstances of that, nothing about the 58s, or Old Lumière, or Verso's mother."
It feels like a damning list, brief as it is; each could fill a book, couldn't it? She'll have to take some care later to steer them away from this. Put Lune's mind elsewhere, after a deluge of information that would be all too easy to dwell on, even if it's something she needs to know.
"It's felt like too much to put on his shoulders when he's still reeling over Renoir, and adjusting to Verso joining us."
Renoir is going to be a big part of that. Between massacre and murder and the events of the Monolith, it's unavoidable.
She finds herself pushing the suitcase away from her on the floor, her hands falling to rest on her knees, and she looks up at Lune with contrition.
"But that's about all Gustave knows," Sciel says, carefully. "That and that we finished Renoir on the Monolith. But none of the circumstances of that, nothing about the 58s, or Old Lumière, or Verso's mother."
It feels like a damning list, brief as it is; each could fill a book, couldn't it? She'll have to take some care later to steer them away from this. Put Lune's mind elsewhere, after a deluge of information that would be all too easy to dwell on, even if it's something she needs to know.
"It's felt like too much to put on his shoulders when he's still reeling over Renoir, and adjusting to Verso joining us."
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