(no subject)

[ 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." ]

( gustave is a little intrigued by this verso character that has seemingly materialized. he supposes that this much was to be expected, especially with talk he heard in the kitchen, a few days back, about how grand the party the dessendres throw during the holidays is, but also complaining slightly about the amount of work it entails. gustave is pretty sure a lot of the food being prepared and set aside is to be used in that fancy party.

he is already wondering if he can basically spend the whole of it in his room, away from all the noise and bustle, without having to worry about all those tiring social interactions with the upper echelon of parisian society— )

Huh?

( he glances up when the attention falls on him, a little flustered at having spaced out like that. it doesn't take a genius to connect the dots, though, and gustave quickly figures out what's expected of him.

with two pairs of pale, silver eyes on him, gustave knows he can't quite talk himself out of this one. he leans back, trying to take on a more relaxed posture. )

There's nothing very interesting. ( a beat ) But you may ask, and I might answer.

( maelle turns to verso, and pouts, "he always says that." )

Edited 2025-12-19 00:25 (UTC)

He's always this mysterious, then? How do you tolerate it?

[ "With difficulty," Maelle says solemnly. Unfortunately, Gustave has himself beset on all sides by Dessendres, who are the most annoying people in existence. Someone might expect Maelle's presence to dull Verso's more irritating edges, on his best behavior for a little sister, but in fact it seems to have had the opposite effect: he's acting up in order to entertain her.

Attention turned back to Gustave: ]

Do you have any family back home who are missing you terribly?

[ He must. Verso's surprised they've allowed this live-in employment situation. ]

An ailing grand-mère... a brother or sister... [ Very casually: ] A wife?

( it's a grand amusement to gustave that maelle can be very solemn, sounding much like an adult. the age difference between her and her older brother... well, that explains a lot about their dynamic, and also their shared levels of maturity, gustave is coming to find. especially with the way verso adds a sense of authority over gustave that maelle is definitely taking advantage of.

to skirt around the questions of the littlest dessendre child is so easy, but in the face of an adult? his contemporary (he'd assume)? well— )

Of course I have family back home.

( "a sister!" maelle supplies, given that this much she knows. )

Though, hm... ( he feels a little on the spot, likely rearing up to answer the 'wife' question, maelle leaning a little closer, only to be saved, ultimately, by dear amelié, arriving with tea and a few sweet things. ) Ah, merci, Amelié.

( items situated on the table, he flashes her a smile as she retreats, before grabbing for the teapot, to serve into the cups. )

I asked for the peppermint leaves. I hope you both don't mind.

( whatever of the wife ?! )

[ Fucking Amelié!!! He was just about to get an answer on whether Gustave is single or not. But Verso smiles at her, too, because he does like her. He just hopes she's done interrupting. ]

We don't mind, [ he says for both him and Maelle. It's seasonal. Festive. Very appropriate for drinking in the winter snow. ]

—If you have a sister, then I guess that explains why you're so good with Maelle.

[ Maelle makes a face that's somewhere between that's true and wait, what does that mean? ]

Just a sister?

Oui, Emma, my sister — sometimes I forget she is younger than me. ( setting the pot down, he now passes on the teacups to each sibling; he takes one himself, and seems to be particularly vested in talking about his sister. maelle's small hands wrap around her teacup, enraptured, and one could only imagine this is what she is like whenever gustave is explaining some academic subject to her. it is clear that she's grown superbly fond of him in so little time. ) It's actually through her that I met your father, Monsieur Renoir. She works in our town's government, you see, and he was one of her many guests.

( something about an art gallery needing refurbishing, its previous owner having lost all of their money in recent times. it wouldn't surprise gustave at all to know that said art gallery is now under the umbrella of the dessendre's influence. )

So, I suppose it is her I should be thanking for this job.

( bringing the cup up to his lips, there really is that linger and...? that he can feel pervading the cold silence. maelle, especially, with leaning closer and taking a small sip, imitating him.

suppose he could mention sophie...?

sighing softly (clearly not something he's fond of thinking about), he sets his cup down and says: )

No wife. I — was engaged, seven months ago, but things changed.

( two months before he had accepted this job. it's clear, then, that part of leaving his hometown was to step away from a rather emotionally burdening situation in his personal life, as much as it was to grow within his profession. he also is very much still thinking plenty of sophie.

quickly, he adds, as if to amend the mood, even if it's not entirely true (what is true is that sophie does seem happier, last he heard). )

For the better, though.

[ Engaged. Oh, so it was serious. Verso tries to picture the kind of person who Gustave would be interested in spending his life with, but he comes up with a blank. Truthfully, there's very little he knows about Gustave at the moment, but he's filing away each of these tidbits with care, to be ruminated on later. Eventually, he'll be able to connect the dots enough to have a full picture. ]

That's... unfortunate, [ he says, not really sure what reaction one should have in this situation. He's never had a serious relationship that lasted long enough for him to even think of marriage, let alone an actual engagement—

Which, of course, Maelle brings up. "Verso's never been engaged," she says helpfully. "Papa calls him a man about town."

Verso gives her a look that says shut the fuck up right now in Dessendre Sibling Language. Maelle takes the hint and says, "Why did you two break up?"

It's an impolite question, but Verso takes a sip of his tea to avoid correcting her. ]

Maelle—

( he starts, missing entirely the shut the fuck up right now dessendre sibling language, but he recognizes that this is something that maelle should not be saying things like that, even if it's toward her brother.

though he does steal a glance at verso.

he seems to deflate a little at the (rather impolite) question. )

We — had different ideas about family. ( anyway!!! ) Now, what's important, Maelle, is to always be respectful to others. Especially when they have differing opinions.

[ Verso tries to hide his laugh in his cup of tea, but only succeeds in making hot liquid splash out of it and into his lap with the force of his exhale. ]

Ah— [ Fuck. He dabs at his trousers with a napkin while Maelle giggles. ] Sorry, it's not—

[ He wasn't laughing at Gustave. ...Well, all right, he sort of was, but it wasn't ill-natured. He'd found the impromptu life lesson charming. ]

I'm not laughing. [ The lie buzzer goes off. ] Or, well, I am, but... [ It's going to be hard to recover from this one. ] You're just— a very good teacher.

[ That was really cute, imparting a lesson on Maelle like that, with such earnestness. ]

( noco whines and wiggles around in verso's lap—all this commotion, when puppy just wants to lie down and chill on his favorite lap. gustave, for his part, isn't too certain about the comment (or the laugh). he feels, rightfully, on the spot, but it probably has more to do with the fact that he's still quite sore about breaking up with sophie. )

I suppose so.

( teacher is not his primary function, after all, and he still isn't certain that it's a title he can wield with pride.

but, maelle seems to be getting his lessons, and the dessendre parents seem to be pleased with the results so far. )

...perhaps we could talk about something else. Like those paintings you saw, Maelle?

[ Ah, shit. He thinks he might have offended Gustave with the laughter, when it wasn't meant to; it had just been so... wholesome. Said with such sincerity. He's not used to hearing things like that in the Dessendre home.

But if there's any awkwardness, Maelle smooths it away by talking at length about the art they'd gotten to see— Liberty Leading the People, The Coronation of Napoleon, The Raft of the Medusa. She goes on until Clea and Maman return home, and Verso can hear Clea calling, "Alicia! You left your Sherlock Holmes drivel behind!" as they walk up the path to the front door.

Like the voracious reader that she is, Maelle bounds down the porch to go retrieve her book. It'll only be moments before Maman sees that he's home, and then his dance card will be full for the rest of the day catching up with her. So, as Maelle flees the scene, leaving her half-eaten pastry on the table, Verso takes the opportunity to lean in and say, ] Sorry. I didn't mean to make— you've been great for Maelle. I haven't seen her this happy all year.

[ "Mon trésor!" Aline exclaims, and then he's straightening up, offering Gustave a thin-lipped smile before standing to meet his mother at the steps, hugging and kissing her while Noco prances around their feet. ]

Maman.

[ "You're going to catch your death out here," she scolds. In the near distance, he can hear Maelle arguing with Clea: Sherlock Holmes is real literature! ]

I've been kept warm by good company.

Edited 2025-12-20 04:29 (UTC)

( sciel and lune have told him before, that he is quite useless when it comes to keeping emotion from his face when he is upset or otherwise feeling sore about something. that his inability to coherently express himself (or stand up for himself) is perhaps one of the reasons why his engagement with sophie floundered so. it's easy to keep maelle from noticing (though she hardly ever makes him feel inadequate, to be fair), but her brother seems quite... perceptive.

by the time maelle is halfway through her description of the paintings, gustave has all but forgotten the matter, instead focusing on how she's improved describing in detail. it's not a big deal, perhaps, but a few months ago she wouldn't talk as much as now.

all this to say that it surprises gustave a bit, in a mortified kind of way, when, once left alone, though briefly, verso apologizes. gustave is ready to tell him something in return, but then there is madam dessendre.

gustave straightens up from his chair, bows his head lightly. )

Madam. ( he says, after she turns to see him, once verso ascertains that he is the 'good company'. his interactions with madam dessendre are not plenty, and while nothing but kind, it's clear to gustave that she rather let her husband be the one who talks with him.

understanding how their arrival changes the current dynamic, gustave adds. ) I'll head back to my quarters, if you'll excuse me.

You are, monsieur. Furthering your research?

—ah, yes.

( he adds as much, softly, then nods again, with a light smile, and hesitates for a moment at the table before placing the tea pot and cups onto the tray, along with the pastries. earn himself a small trip to the kitchens to breathe, remove the anxiety he has since felt brewing since verso's apology. )

I will let Amelié know that you have arrived.

Merci.

( and with that, it's only the dessendres. )

[ Gustave leaves both the room and the conversation; Verso doesn't even have the chance to ask Maman anything about him, because she's quickly hurrying him inside to talk about what he's been up to at the Conservatory (studying hard), does he have any friends from school in the area (a few, they might catch up over break), is he still seeing that girl (no, Maman). He's always loved being the recipient of Aline's light, having it shine down on him. They talk for hours without noticing the time pass, and without noticing that Maelle slips away halfway through, feeling ignored.

It's late evening before Verso returns to his room and realizes that, with the excitement of Maelle's arrival, the model train had been left behind. A good fifteen minutes passes between the realization and his step back out into the hallway; he unbuttons an extra button on his pajama shirt, rumples his collar just right, and picks at his hair until it looks suitably rakish and tousled.

Only then does he rap on Gustave's guest room door with the back of his knuckles, posing with a performatively languid lean against the doorway when Gustave comes to answer his knock.

Smoothly: ] Bonsoir.

( verso may well delight in basking in his mother's attentions, but the result of that is one quite upset young girl, whom, after her older sister's badgering about her precious book, feels too defeated to try and helm some amount of strength at the very obvious favoritism. and what ought maelle do, but go to find gustave? knocking politely in defeat instead of bursting inside like she always would.

it feels above what he is allowed to do, to try and mend maelle's bruised heart; to sit beside her at the edge of his bed and listen to her, as she weeps mournfully about wanting love that she doesn't feel she ever receives. it's a lucky thing that he is an older brother, but emma had never been this soft-hearted. gustave tries his best and urges maelle to tell him about her book, and before long they are reading one of the short stories together. she asks gustave read, too, as sherlock holmes, as they uncover the mystery within the pages. it helps, he thinks, and soon enough maelle is chipper anew. while he works on his projects, she lies on his bed (not an unusual thing) and continues reading—until nightfall, her eyes, closing, too in sleep, all while gustave is too distracted with his own thoughts and the work he is engrossed in. no one came looking for her, he realizes, upon the knock at his door and taking a look at the time. perhaps it means that monsieur renoir is off in one of his longer trips outside the capital.

still, he rises from his chair, and heads to the door. he does not expect to see verso, but mostly because he is still such a new and unfamiliar presence in the home for all that gustave has been here. )

Bonsoir.

( he echoes, looking away from the man (all that hard work to make himself look some particular way—) and toward his bed, where maelle sleeps. is he here to get her? )

My apologies, I lost track of the time.

( lest this somehow be maelle's fault in some way. )

Edited 2025-12-20 18:45 (UTC)

[ Apologies—? Verso follows Gustave's gaze to a sleeping Maelle, and— ]

Oh.

[ Oh, he feels terrible. He had noticed that Maelle had disappeared from their conversation at some point, but he hadn't realized that she'd come here. And why would she, if not because she'd felt excluded? Unwanted? His mood sinks in an instant. ]

I didn't realize she was here, [ he admits, shamefully. ]

...I came for the train.

[ But that feels incredibly fucking shitty of him, now. ]

( in verso's defense, he could have lied and said he had come for maelle. at least he's honest. that being said, gustave realizes that he shouldn't have expected verso to know that his little sister would have been here—he is not privy to the new routines of the young girl now with gustave as someone she can go to.

so, he steps back into his room and grabs at the train. it has been sitting on the windowsill, keeping it out of the way of gustave's work. when he hands it back, it's quite cold to the touch. though the room isn't cold, there's a small sliver of space between the window and the wall that allows the winter air to stream in. thankfully, the hearth in the corner of the room with the fire warms up the room quite significantly.

gustave remains holding the train, even as verso holds on to it. )

I am not here to judge, monsieur.

( the cracks in the family are obvious for him, who has spent quite a few months here. )

It is not the first time Maelle hides away here. ( the young girl stirs, tucked under the blankets, but remains under the heavy influence of sleep, still. he lets go of the train. ) Don't worry. I will return her to her room when I turn in for the night.

( a bit of a usual routine, seems like.

but lest verso think that gustave is ushering him away (how rude of him, if so), he asks, )

Are you retiring for the night yourself? I imagine traveling here and keeping to your mother's company must have been tiring.

[ The tinplate steel of the little model train is chilly against his fingers, and he jumps a little, surprised. His eyes drift to the splinter-thin opening between the window and the wall, and he wonders if he should bring Gustave a blanket to stuff in the crevice. Aline and Renoir wouldn't have thought of it during the summer months when Gustave started working here, and he gets the feeling that Gustave simply puts up with it without complaining now that it's an issue. ]

Hm?

[ He comes back into awareness at the tail end of Gustave's sentence. Something about his mother's company being tiring— ]

Oh. I'm the one who tires her out, I think. All that needless worrying.

[ She's convinced he's going to get himself into all sorts of trouble at the Conservatory. It kills her that he's gone, he knows, but surely every child has to strike out on their own sometime. He can't end up like Clea, still managing the household when she's old enough to have her own.

A beat. ]

You're, uh. [ He looks down at their fingers, centimeters away on the little toy train. ] Still holding on.

—sorry.

( gustave is holding the model train with his left hand, prosthetic locked in place. he has to manually peel his fingers off with his right hand, moving the joints about as if massaging the metal. )

It is harder to move in the cold.

( it is a marvel of engineering, his arm, surprisingly complex and functional despite the times. to be able to wear it like a second arm, flex fingers, rotate his mechanical wrist, despite the vague connections to where it meets flesh. a gift, from his lovely apprentices; they had disguised it as an entirely different project, picking at his brain with questions and suggestions, all while gustave had been bed-ridden after his accident, sickly and demotivated.

his gaze lingers on maelle. his apprentices are only a little older than her, and despite their life filled with less luxuries and opportunities, it is not as crippled with limitations as the young girl's is. )

Did you know she's an exceptional poet? It surprises me that her vocabulary is so vast.

[ He did know. Well, sort of. Maelle has shown him her poetry a few times, and he's never been anything but encouraging, but she just as often hides it away. Says it's private or it's not ready. Verso thinks of his little sister choosing Gustave to confide her poetry in, just as she'd chosen Gustave to seek comfort with tonight, and he feels a surge of jealousy.

It's ugly. He smothers the feeling and replaces it with guilt instead. ]

I'm not surprised at all. She's had her nose in a book since the moment she could read.

[ Always ahead of her peers. Ahead of where Verso was at her age, certainly. She's incredibly intelligent for such a little girl. ]

—I think the fictional characters are kinder to her than people in real life.

[ Sweet Maelle, always an outsider. She'd been an unexpected addition to their family of four, much younger than Clea and Verso, who'd been bonded so closely by growing up together. Then she'd started school, and she'd been so bookish and shy, and she'd never really found someone she'd rather spend time with who wasn't fictional. ]

...Anyway. [ Mon dieu, this whole thing has gone horrifically off-track. He'd wanted to come in, take his train, maybe look dashingly handsome while doing it. ] Thanks for taking care of her. I can take her to her room.

Fiction generally is.

( kinder, but it can be dangerous, too, to find too constant of an escape within the dreams of the imaginary. just as gustave had said, he is not here to judge (nor critique, really); his sense of protectiveness over maelle stems from his being an older brother himself, and how earnest he is about his young apprentices back home. it is an intrinsic part of him (for better or for worse, as sophie would remind him) to care for those who will become the legacy of those who succumb to the most certain inevitability of life.

when verso takes a turn to retiring properly, and taking maelle with him, gustave stops to consider the mood. it feels like he might have said something unkind without realizing.

(also, verso seems the kind that needs socializing.)

an obstinate request spills forth, )

Would you mind if I came with? I could do with a short break to stretch my legs.

( he's been hunched over his work for a few hours now. perhaps carrying maelle back to her room, in other occasions, forced him to take such a break. )

I'm considering stealing some hot chocolate from the kitchens, to warm up a bit. ...if you'd like to be an accomplice.

[ The corner of Verso's mouth curls up, faintly but surely. Even with the unpleasant swell of jealousy, he doesn't mind Gustave coming with. How could he? Gustave is fascinating, a real erudite academic, and he probably has a lot of interesting things to say, plus he'd really like to get to know the person Maelle has been gushing about for months, and—

Who is he kidding? It's because Gustave is cute. ]

Planning a heist right under Amélie's nose, huh? [ He laughs, pocketing the train. It's heavy enough that the roomy pocket of his pajama pants sags slightly. ] I should warn my parents that they've hired an inveterate criminal.

[ Joking!! He's joking. Carefully, Verso takes the book from Maelle's hands and sets it beside her, gently slipping his hands underneath her body and hoisting her up into his arms. She's grown since he last did this, and he feels a pang of bittersweetness at the realization that he missed watching that happen.

Softly, so as not to wake her: ] Grab her book, will you? We can drop her off first, and then you can entice me into a life of crime.