escapeartiste | IC Inbox

From:

[as a matter of principle, gustave tries not to stare at people. it's plain bad manners for one — and past that, even he had gotten sick of the pitying looks he'd received before his apprentices had presented him with his replacement arm.

but he's still getting his bearings here, having only really popped briefly by his room to clean up a bit before setting out to orient himself in his new temporary home. his heart does a stutter-step when he sees maelle stargazing on deck — his mind hasn't quite fully wrapped around temporal shenanigans yet — and he stares as he approaches quietly. the blatant disbelief that it's her is there in his voice, like he's certain he's about to embarrass himself by speaking to a stranger with insanely striking but absolutely coincidental similarities.

maelle has never been caught in a fire, after all.]

You look— just like someone I know.

[he's trying SO HARD to play it cool because

this absolutely can't actually be maelle? right???? he just needs that confirmation, thanks!]

From:

escapeartiste

[Wholly distracted by the vastness slowly drifting by, Maelle doesn't really question or react when she hears anyone come near. She's been interrupted before. People just seem magnetized to loneliness around here. It makes quiet moments to think fleeting. Which is probably for the best, in a place like this.

It's when he speaks that her attention instantly diverts. Her peripheral is shot, her right side is blind, she has to twist around to find him. She doesn't actually listen to what he says, or catch a glimpse of the doubts in his words. She just hears him.

Unlike Gustave, her disbelief ends with the sight of him. There's a strangled rasp that's supposed to be his name and a hopeful step toward him. Even if she wasn't listening to his words though, she knows what she looks like and she doesn't look like Maelle. She can see the hesitation and the doubts and while she tries to reassure him, 'it's me, it's Maelle' it only comes out in more painful hoarse rasps of air.

Well, she's already crying, thanks.]

From:

superniceone

[it's enough to confirm gustave's worst fear: that something has happened to her after he'd died, that they couldn't protect her the way she needed protecting. he has a million questions — who did this to her, why — and anger bubbles up in him so hard he can taste the bitterness of it in his mouth.

but there'll be time for that later, because she's crying and his eyes are hot with a stinging pressure of their own. yes, she looks different, but her mannerisms aren't, and it only takes her one step toward him before he's moving to close that distance entirely.]

Hey, hey, it's alright, I'm sorry. [he starts to reach out to her, freezes — how fresh are the injuries? and will he be kicked out of his role of warden if he dismembers whoever is responsible for this?] I just got here.

From:

escapeartiste

[Even if he freezes she does not. She's already holding him tight as if letting go might risk him disappearing in front of her.

She doesn't get to ask if he's real this time, she's desperate just to believe he is.]