stonethrow | (no subject)

[ Another blink-and-Gustave-definitely-missed-it microexpression, his eyebrows rising for just a moment. Oh. It's an unexpected response. They've just met, and already Gustave is trying to excuse himself. It makes sense, of course. Gustave is a live-in tutor, but he's still a tutor. It's just a job. In fact, he was probably looking forward to having some peace and quiet before Verso showed up.

It's fine. Not everyone has to like Verso. (Yes, they do.)

—But then again, he'd said bother. Like maybe he thinks this is an imposition on Verso, rather than the other way around. Hm. He crouches down to close up his suitcase again. ]

Let me guess, [ he says, chewing it over, ] you've become familiar with Clea.

[ And now he assumes that Verso will act the same undoubtedly unfriendly way that she has. ]

( it really wasn't wanting peace and quiet so much as it was wanting some fresh air and a break from his research. but that much he assumes would be an uninteresting thing to mention to an artiste.

besides, verso should very much realize that he puts gustave in a difficult position, saying things like that. insinuating what they both know about clea's more serious-about-their-standing opinions.

it makes gustave break into something of a smile, though, taking his chances. )

I wouldn't assume that I am familiar with her, no.

( for the young lady has made it clear that she wishes to keep her distance from the 'staff' in her home. even if gustave falls under a different category, he is still staff.

as it were, he takes the words for what they're meant to be: a way of removing the fiction of verso being like his sister. )

Maelle has mentioned me a lot to you? I'm afraid that puts me at a disadvantage.

[ With the suitcase closed, he stands and picks it up, lugging it along as he gestures for Gustave to follow him down the hall and toward his room where he can drop it off. Monoco and Noco, having lost interest in the ball, clamber around underfoot. He gingerly steps over Noco. ]

She hasn't mentioned me?

[ That's...

Fine, he tells himself. It doesn't matter. She's getting older, to that age where little sisters don't fawn over their big brothers as much as they used to. Besides, she's been under a lot of stress from their parents, Maman especially. It's fine.

He shrugs noncommittally and says, like it doesn't hurt a little to hear, ] Guess there isn't much to say. I've been away at the Conservatory.

( suppose that he is going to follow the young master of the house about, then. gustave removes his scarf, the warmth of the home making the back of his neck start to sweat; it's easier to just keep it around his hands, warming at his fingertips.

with the question and the answer that verso gives himself, it makes gustave wonder if the dessendre are prone to such morose thoughts? is it a family thing?

he's not sorry that he laughs a little at that. should he be looked at in reproach, gustave will promptly clarify, shaking his head. )

No, you misunderstand. She has mentioned you, every day, but usually asking about your whereabouts or when you'll be back. I've tried prodding, ( because children tend to love to talk about things they're enthused about ) but she gets real quiet and sad when I do. I would say that she misses you dearly.

( he points over his shoulder, back down the hall, more or less to where the sitting room might be. )

I know your paintings are there, and that the piano must not be touched, unless it is by you. Maelle's strictest of rules.

( here, gustave offers verso a small grin. )

[ Verso drags his suitcase a little further down the hall, turning away from Gustave to hide the pleased smile on his face. Every day. He'd thought for certain that Maelle didn't need him anymore, that she was being kept busy with someone else. Someone who she'd said knew everything. Someone whose mechanical arm she'd raved about. Someone who'd rescued a mouse in the garden from being eaten by the dogs, if her stories are true. Maelle had seemed to find that terribly heroic. ]

Yes, she's very stern.

[ Ha, ha. Maelle is horribly mild-mannered unless she likes you, and then suddenly she's a little monster who can't stop bullying. Fortunately for her, the bullying is adorable.

He opens the door to his bedroom and tosses his suitcase in, although he stays in the hall, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. The room inside is obviously exorbitantly large. No person needs that much space, but clearly the Dessendres disagree. ]

You're a researcher, then? [ ... ] I have to admit, I pictured you with a bit more grey in your hair.

[ He'd pictured a stuffy old academic, actually. ]

( everything in the dessendre estate is exorbitantly large, from the high ceilings to the dining hall. gustave would think that painting frames didn't have to be so ostentatious, give the painting room to shine, and yet many of the frames are etched in gold with intricate designs. so, verso's room? it's not unlike what he's seen, though he notes that it is quite bigger than, say, maelle's.

he thinks, again, that it is not his place to opine, but there's a certainty in his heart that a lot of maelle's quietness stems from being put down constantly by her mother. he has seen little of it, but he has seen enough: how she shuts down whenever her mother calls her, the tears she tries to hold back after interacting with mamam, the way clea doesn't hold much sympathy for her. it's quite telling, too, with the size of the canvas of her paintings next to that of her older siblings. maelle, on the contrary, enjoys the time her father spends with her, reads her poetry attempts with gusto—her softening expression tells gustave everything.

and, in these six months, he knows that he's grown attached. it's impossible not to, when maelle is as curious as she is. the way she lights up around him, asking all sorts of questions, the way she grew so excited at gustave fixing a broken typewriting machine for her. he still keeps the acrostic she wrote of his name amidst his notes in his journal.

lost in thought about the possibilities of maelle's happiness increasing now that the brother she missed so much is home, gustave starts at the question, then the comment. )

Hm— oui. ( there's a bit of shiftiness, if just because of his shrugging, staring to the side— ) People have said I seem older than what I actually am.

( there's a bit of a sigh with those words.

sophie sure felt that he was wasting away his youth in scientific endeavors, and perhaps she wasn't so wrong. it would be so simple, a prescribed life: he, working on his research and providing for his family while she and their children could enjoy a more leisurely life. suppose he had been stuck inside a box for too long, and by the time he realized that was neither idyllic nor fair, they had already parted ways.

he shakes his head. )

Sorry, I'm not very interesting. ( quickly changing the topic— ) Is it a long travel time from the Conservatory to here?

Edited 2025-12-10 12:15 (UTC)

[ Well, that was abrupt. Verso has a little vertigo from how fast Gustave shifted the topic away from himself. Modest, he supposes. Verso wouldn't really know what that's like; his own accomplishments have always been a frequent topic. If he were in Gustave's shoes, he would have just taken that opportunity to brag about his big brain and innovative research studies.

But not everyone lacks such humility, apparently. ]

Long enough that I'll be staying here until class starts up again.

[ The manor is away from the city proper, where there's space for sprawling acres of greenery. It would be possible to go back and forth from here to the Conservatory, but it would be a real pain. Besides, he'd welcomed the opportunity to strike out on his own. Life with the Dessendres can be a tad... suffocating. ]

—Hey. [ Just as abrupt as Gustave's subject change. ] You're an engineer, aren't you? Mechanical?

[ Alicia—Maelle—had mentioned. Gushed about some wind-up toy he'd made for her. ]

( it's nothing personal, verso. gustave just thinks that this very artistic family wouldn't be very interested in his research or understand half of the concepts he would like to rant about. it's just the same as if they would talk to him about their own interests: he would be absolutely lost.

the comment about staying here until class starts up again gives gustave something to think about—calculate—figure out the amount of days that would be, and he reckons it would be about three weeks, if he is counting right. there's a likelihood that it could be longer still, but with the strictest of homework to practice intensely over said break.

makes him think about his own return home for the holidays, to see about visiting his sister, his young apprentices. he still hasn't decided, though emma tells him to not fret over a decision.

(with his luck, the weather will grow rather inclement and destroy all avenues of travel back.)

?

is verso still interested in talking with him? he was about to take his leave (again). )

Cartesian engineer, to be exact. ( but mechanical fits what he's been working on. ahem— he stands a little straighter. ) Your father is funding my research. I'm... working towards having a prototype ready by the summer, for the Foire Scientifique in the capital.

( plz ask him what the prototype is— )

[ Cool. He has no fucking idea what a Cartesian engineer is. But it sounds close enough! Verso opens his door again, gesturing for Gustave to follow him inside. There's something in here he'd like to show Gustave, or more accurately, something he'd like to ask him about. ]

Viens ici.

[ Inside, the room is large but surprisingly empty; it's nice, but devoid of any real personality until the side room that Verso leads him into. This room houses his piano, his mostly unused paints, a very expensive-looking model train set up on a table. ]

What sort of prototype does a Cartesian engineer make?

( suppose that he is at the whim of the dessendre siblings (except for clea) at the rate that he is quick to agree to follow. he should have taken his leave a while ago, and yet—

follow verso into his room he does, and he cannot help but look around in curiosity. it's well-kept, and the man's lack of sighing and trying to move things about gives gustave the impression that it has been left exactly as he wanted it.

he has not yet arrived at the very expensive model train as he answers the question. )

I am working on the hypothesis that electricity will be a much more manageable way of fueling our transportation. There is only so much coal can do for us, beside the fact that it is quite finite—

( oh, is that a very expensive-looking train set? )

Ça alors, qu'avons-nous ici?

( he squats down to be at eye level with the train set, rubbing at his chin with his left hand; his right curls over the scarf. )

A Société J. F. Cail & Cie 0-6-0 locomotive. ( a quiet: wahh sort of sound of amazement escapes him. ) The adhesion on their wheels because of the weight made them quite strong engines. I wonder if it is to scale? ( he glances up at verso, pointing at the set with a prosthetic finger— ) May I?

[ —Oh??? Verso raises an eyebrow, surprised for a moment at the instant identification. Maybe he shouldn't be. Maybe all Cartesian engineers know this stuff. His mouth twitches all the same. ]

Oh, yeah, go ahead.

[ He gestures toward the little train, a perfect little 1:1 replication of the real thing, all the way down to the tiniest details. It had been a gift, a few Christmases back. A grown-up model for the adult who's still, despite everything, into trains. ]

That's actually why I brought you in here.

[ Not just for the hell of it, shockingly. ]

There's a little motor on the back. It's supposed to move down the tracks by itself, but it's stopped working. I was hoping you could take a look.

[ Already putting him to work. ]

I should have known that this was a trap.

( he retorts with not a single trace of seriousness in his tone. gustave stands anew and picks up the locomotive, turning it around and over in his hands. it's significantly heavy, which surprises him, and does confirm that it is quite the expensive set if it replicates everything to a T—from the minor parts to, what he assumes, is the wired inside meant to provide enough conduction for whatever the motor feeds on.

sure, he is familiar with the model, but it's not like he has ever gotten his hands on one for long enough to dissect it.

gustave turns to verso. )

I will need my tools to open it up and see what the issue is.

( he is! so! excited! )

[ Oh! He hadn't expected quite so much enthusiasm. Sure, Gustave is an engineer, but he'd thought maybe it was just a job. Everyone has something they're good at but aren't passionate about; he wouldn't have been surprised if doing research at the university had completely sucked the excitement out of tinkering with gears.

But it didn't, apparently, and Verso's mouth twitches, endeared despite himself. ]

Yeah, of course.

[ Not that he knows where Gustave's tools are, or any of his things. He doesn't even know where Gustave's room is. One of the guest suites, he assumes. If he had to guess, Maman and Papa probably put him up in the small one, just in case some important person from the Painters' Council needed to stay over. ]

I'll pay you for the work, obviously. 50 Francs?

( gustave has it in him to refute. )

There's no 'obviously', monsieur. I wouldn't charge for something like this.

( perhaps it's an old habit of his, of not charging people for the work he does. fact of the matter is that gustave learned most of the skills of his trade by working on other people's broken machines—people who trusted him, without having a guarantee that he could sort them out. it is the young master that does him a favor, by allowing him to handle something so obviously cherished.

he shuffles quietly for a moment, uncertain how to proceed, on whether his company is expected or if verso would like to supervise the matter. surely there are more pressing things he would like to do now that he is home. )

My tools are in my room. ( a beat— ) Would you like to come with?

( well, to hell with it. maybe verso is more like his younger sister than he is to clea. )

[ Eh, he's not so sure about letting Gustave do this work for free. But Maman and Papa must pay him well if they're financing his research, so maybe Gustave simply doesn't want for anything. Maybe he's too proud to take more money. Verso can't say, so he doesn't argue. ]

Okay, [ he says, mouth twitching upward again as he leads them out of the room—technically two rooms—and into the hall. Alicia's—Maelle's—room is right beside his. Gustave must have passed by a hundred times and never been inside before now. ]

So, which one did they give you?

[ An idle question, asked over his shoulder as he makes his way toward the hall that hosts the guest rooms. Multiple guest rooms, because the Dessendres truly are filthy rich. ]

The one with the walk-in closet, or the one with the leaky faucet in the bathroom?

( gustave follows, but only until the hall where the guest rooms are. from here, it's his turn to quicken his pace, lead the way towards his room. it is towards the end of the hallway, one of the smaller rooms, which, in fact— )

It does not have a leaky faucet anymore.

( —he was able to fix the offending malfunction in the adjoining bathroom. truth be told, renoir had offered him any of the other larger rooms, but gustave is a simple man—what could he do with such large a space?

opening the door to his room, he leaves it open and heads inside, setting down his scarf on the bed before taking a couple of steps over to the desk. it spans the entire length of the opposite wall, and it is clear by the books, tools, and several different items (prototypes!) lying about, that this is where he spends most of his time working. a pile of books sit in the corner, under the desk, though there are also some journals and other textbooks (for maelle's classes) atop the table. other than that, the room is quite neat, if sparse, but it's clear that gustave strives in the chaos a bit. )

Now, let's see...

( pulling open a drawer, he brings out his spectacles, places them over his nose, and takes a seat at the table. he clicks on the overhead lamp, and starts tinkering about with the model train.

make yourself at home, verso, or something. )

[ Verso does make himself at home (because he already is at home); he walks in and immediately starts curiously examining the prototypes on the desk. There's one that reminds him almost of a little lamp, and he inspects it closer in an attempt to figure out what it does. Or what it's supposed to do, anyway.

...No idea.

He looks up, about to ask, when he sees Gustave in those little reading glasses, opening up the tiny train to look at the motor. Oh. That's interesting. A moment later, Verso slides in beside Gustave, leaning his hip against the edge of his worktable. So that he can peer over at Gustave's work and give him pointers, obviously. That's all. ]

I think maybe the bearings are worn, [ he says, trying to sound intelligent. ]

You'd suppose as much.

( gustave does not even lift his eyes to glance at verso after his rather intelligent observation. it tells gustave that the man is just not a collector, but rather takes interest in the mechanics of it, too. opening up the tiny train and checking over the motor, gustave pulls lightly at it, careful not to detach any of the small cables.

the bearings seem alright, even if a little worn. )

Could do with a replacement, but it's not urgent.

( pushing back his glasses with a light touch of his thumb, gustave continues, and notices— )

One of the cables have lost contact. It will be a quick fix. ( looking up finally, and taking note of verso's proximity (and his consequently being near one of the drawers), he adds, ) Would you mind finding the soldering kit? It's in a green box.

Edited (kira is not a mechanic don't @ me about the specifics) 2025-12-17 12:42 (UTC)

Consider me your assistant, monsieur l'ingénieur.

[ Hehe. Verso steps back just enough so that he can crouch down and open up the drawers. Truthfully, he doesn't really know what a soldering kit looks like, so it's a good thing that Gustave described it— ]

Oh. Wow. There's... quite a lot of tools in here.

[ This isn't going to be quite as easy to find as he thought. At least it's relatively organized, everything in its little kit save for a few loose screwdrivers and the like. He rummages through the drawer before he manages to pull out a green box from the very back of it, hefting it up onto the table beside Gustave. ]

No wonder the faucet isn't leaky anymore. You came prepared.

[ In another life, Gustave would have made a great boy scout. ]

( if verso were to check his closet (scandalous), he will find that it's far emptier than the drawers on the desk. that is how much his suitcases were filled up with his tools, figuring that he could just buy whatever garment he was in need of in the city.

anyway, maybe he should have warned that it was a bit of a heavy box? no matter. )

I couldn't imagine parting with any of my tools.

( meaning: they all had to come with. )

Merci. ( he adds, softly.

then opens up said green box and starts setting things up for a touch of soldering. it won't need much, and it will take but a minute. in no time at all, he's putting the soldering iron aside and making space as he puts the train back together. he presents it to verso with a triumphant smile; turned slightly on the chair, left hand raised to present it, cold metallic fingers holding the train aloft. the light streaming through the window, silvery due to the snow, reflects on his glasses, mostly hiding his eyes from sight at verso's angle. )

Should be good as new. Do give it a try some time and let me know how it goes.

( the train requires a set of tracks, and gustave didn't notice any in the house, and neither in verso's room. perhaps they were packed away once the model set stopped working. also, gustave sure sounds like when he's fixed a tricycle for a child and expects to run into them later to heard their feedback. )

[ There's something incredibly satisfying about watching Gustave at work, despite the metal prosthetic or perhaps even because of it—it's fascinating to see. Careful, clever hands taking something imperfect and making it new again. It's not unlike watching deft fingers plucking at guitar strings or dancing over the keys of a piano. He can't look away.

And then Gustave is done, glancing up at him, and Verso reaches out to gingerly take the train in hand. He'll have to set up the tracks again. At one point, as a little boy, he'd had a network of tracks spanning all through his room and the study, too. Obviously, he'd relegated the tracks to the piano room once he got old enough to have people over in his bedroom that he wanted to impress.

He holds the train to his chest. ] Merci, [ he echoes.

Then he pauses, realizing that any pretense for interacting is now over, and that he's reluctant to leave so soon. He opens his mouth: ]

Have you—

[ "Gustave, we saw the most amazing art," Maelle says, bounding into the room. Then, she pauses, little red ponytail practically sticking up in surprise. "Verso!" ]

Ma princesse, [ he says, setting the train down and striding over to pick her up in a bear hug, twirling her around as she giggles.

When her feet are back on the ground, she says, with no small amount of glee, "You met Gustave!" ]

I did. He told me all about what a rapscallion you've been. 'Naughtiest student he's ever had', I think he said.

[ "—He did not!" ]

( gustave stands, for he sees maelle before she speaks, and something in his brain connects at the idea of brother and sister reuniting being a rather loud and fond event. so is the scene that appears before him, and his smile grows soft as he places his glasses inside his shirt's pocket. )

I will not be in the middle of a sibling fight.

( hardly a 'fight', but he says it with plenty of humor. )

Allez, Maelle, I did ask you to knock before coming in. I could be sleeping or have tools all over.

( the young girl pouts, hands at her hips. she is the perfect reason, verso will find, to spend some more time with gustave (he assumes that, considering their busy schedule, aline and clea might have had maelle dropped off as they continued very serious painter business). the routine is quite obvious, at this point, though— )

I know it's snowing quite a bit, but shall we go to the porch and have some tea and pastries? I'm sure I can ask Amelié to help us out. Then you can tell us all about what paintings you saw, Maelle.

( one of the maids, whom gustave may or may not be friends with. maelle, for her part, is excited at the idea. )

[ Shall we go to the porch, Gustave says, and Verso assumes he only means him and Maelle. After all, it would be reasonable to use this as a teaching opportunity. But then he says us, and Verso raises an eyebrow. Then he says us yet again, and Verso can't fight the curl of his lips, grin crooked and boyish.

"Yes! Let's go," she says, wrapping a hand around Verso's arm and tugging. He plays at resisting— ]

I don't know, I have a very busy schedule... [ —but of course he relents at the very first exasperated, "Please." ] But I could make time for someone very special. Let me get my coat.

[ "I'll come with you," Maelle says, then turns to Gustave. Teasing: "Go beg Amelié for treats, then meet us out on the porch."

In Verso's room, he grabs a warm winter coat, a frock style with silver fur around the collar, probably more expensive than anything Gustave has ever owned. As he slides it on, he says, ] You didn't mention that your tutor was so— [ "So what?" ] Young.

[ Maelle wrinkles her nose. "He's old to me. And so are you."

He makes Maelle put on a coat, too, and a scarf, before they head out to the porch. "Well?" Maelle asks. "Did you manage to charm Amelié into tea and pastries?" ]

Edited (makes maelle 0.5% brattier) 2025-12-18 21:42 (UTC)

( and while the siblings are off, getting their coats and ready for a bit of a cold time in the porch, gustave puts some of his things away, grabs his scarf anew, and makes ways to find amelié in the kitchens. a little bit of groveling (charming) later, he is meeting the siblings again by the porch. halfway along the way, monoco and noco caught his scent, and here they are, wanting to join them—though mostly making the rounds around verso. )

I have. ( he tells maelle, placing a hand lightly over the top of her head. ) She will be along with them promptly.

( leading the way out, onto the chairs, gustave takes a moment to wrap his own scarf around himself, and waits to see how the siblings wish to configure themselves on the seats. while it is snowing quite a bit and it's a chilly sort of day, the porch has a wooden roof that will at least allow them a dry seat.

though gustave wants to wait, it's clear that maelle wants whatever she wants; she leads, sitting gustave down on one end, so that she can sit beside him. verso will have no choice but to sit next to her, across from gustave, on this square table.

there's a soft chuckle from gustave at all this. )

Well, then, what about these paintings, Maelle? Or would you rather your brother tell you about his plans for the holidays?

[ Verso sits, and Noco instantly jumps up into his lap. Maelle pouts, and he laughs, tugging over her hand to rest it atop Noco's soft little puppy head. How spoiled. She gets to see Noco all the time! Monoco, older and less excitable, just lays his head down next to Verso's feet. ]

Oh, me? Endless social invitations— the people practically begging, in fact...

[ "You're such a liar," Maelle scoffs. ]

But I turned them all down to spend time with ma soeur préférée. [ A beat. ] Don't tell Clea I said that.

[ "I'm definitely telling Clea," she giggles, rolling her eyes. ]

Besides, Maelle and I already know everything about each other there is to know. I think it's only fair that the newcomer share about himself, instead.

[ "He's just new to you," Maelle says, but she is endlessly curious about Gustave. It's hard to glean things when he only offers answers as prizes for doing her work, so she jumps at the opportunity, turning to look at him. "But he's right." ]