week four | endgame

[marriagebroker]

After one last night at the estate, everyone is set to big farewell on Sunday morning or afternoon or evening, however long they want to linger until they say their goodbyes.

There will be transportation to send them out of the estate and back to wherever they came from! They will leave just the way they arrived, of course. Taken all the way back home to their respective worlds.

But before that! Everyone is given one smartphone which they will be told can communicate with everyone else, including Wei Wuxian. If they want to call or text or whatever they want. There's already a group chat set up where Wei Wuxian has posted:

Safe travels, friends!

And Wei Wuxian will also share that they are able to travel to each other's worlds. They just need to return to the estate and from the estate, they can leave back to someone else's world. The estate will function as a "hub" of sorts for these travels.

So, farewell, friends! Here's to your perfect match!

Boom Boom Room | Talking Heads | Honeymoon Suite
Love Meme | tl;cr Meme

Comments

[reverso]

[In that same way, Messmer is a steadying presence for Verso, too. The yawning void of an uncertain future is freeing yet terrifying if one thinks about it overlong, and it is good to know that he will not be alone. That he will be with someone dear to him as they both learn how to wring out light in that darkness, even if they have to fight for it tooth and nail.]

Regardless, when you tear that door open, Messmer, we will face together whatever greets us on the other side. I'm ready.

[He knows not what they will face, but this does not change how certain he feels about this decision to fight by his side. He is ready, and his will can only temper itself further in the flames of conflict.

At the Graceless comment, he can't help but scoff a little.]

Ah, well, c'est la vie. If it's light they seek, I can still give it to them.

[Because his magic element is light, get it, haha]

[anathemaw]

[ oh boy. There's a lot Verso will have to learn about the Lands Between... There's no way to know just how different their homes are, but Messmer supposes they'll find out soon enough. He shakes his head gently. ]

'Tis a blessing I refer to, of Mother's... Marika's. [ that still doesn't feel very good to say. He moves past it quickly. ] At once thou wilt be known as an outsider.

[ his word alone will be enough to shield Verso from the worst of it, he hopes - at this point, the troops are exhausted, and the majority of them continue to fight out of either loyalty or desperation. But Messmer doesn't continue this train of thought. Something else piques his interest - something he'd never asked about, somehow. ]

Thy native tongue...

[reverso]

[Mm, he suspected Messmer meant more than just any ol' light, but he nods at the correction, all the same. It doesn't change his feelings on the matter when it comes to traveling to his world, remaining by his side. He suspects he'd be an outsider in more than just one way, knowing so little about the world he hails from, and having to adjust—and fending off the distrust of others, or worse—was always part of the deal.

He nearly says as much, but instead blinks up at Messmer, intrigued by the comment.]

Oui?

[Yes, what about his French.]

Will that be an issue, too?

[anathemaw]

[ Messmer shakes his head. It'll be yet another peculiarity to him in the Lands Between, but he can't imagine anyone would care much about such a minor difference - what you look like and who you pray to are far more defining characteristics than the language you speak. ]

... No. It hath a pleasing melody.

[ in other words, Messmer thinks his French sounds nice - an admission he makes rather shyly, if only by slipping it into the middle of this conversation where he thinks he can hide it. ]

Yet its meaning eludes me. I would know what words thou callest me by.

[ Verso occasionally refers to him with terms he doesn't understand. He might have just done it now, but Messmer truly doesn't know (still, despite the high percentage of French people in the household). ]

[reverso]

[Oh... cute. Messmer thinks his native tongue is appealing. HE CAN'T HIDE THAT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CONVERSATION, VERSO TAKES NOTE OF IT-]

Oh, I guess I never did tell you the meaning of most of it.

[Sometimes it slips through unintentionally, little words here and there, but he can think of one phrase that perhaps Messmer should be made more aware of than the rest.]

And I guess you should know what I've been calling you, now and then. Ma flamme. "My flame."

[He knows there is an irony to that choice, but it is not one that he chooses unkindly. He would rather take the negative connotations of Messmer's cursed fire and turn it into something good.]

My light burning bright in the darkness.

[anathemaw]

[ knowing Verso's been referring to him by his curse does indeed cause him a small twinge of shame, despite knowing full well that Verso's doing so without any of the negative connotations; after all, it's something he's spent his entire life resenting, trying in vain to get away from. Messmer would have accepted it without complaint nonetheless. Verso doesn't share his background or culture, after all. In this context, it's no more than an innocent nickname, free of malice.

It's when Verso explains it that his feelings change. Gone is that guilty pang, replaced wholly by a squeezing feeling in his chest, as if the winged serpents were suddenly trying to constrict his heart. Verso's paid him many a lofty compliment, but the others, perhaps, weren't quite so personal as this one - and so harshly juxtaposed against Messmer's own thoughts. The idea that someone could look at him, actions, attitude and all, and see hope -- it's beyond "foolish" or "mad" or any of the other reproaches Messmer's given him these past four weeks. It's enough to make him suddenly feel quite fragile. The same light he'd been chasing in Verso, Verso sees in him.

For once, Messmer's stony veneer cracks; he gazes down at Verso with an expression of modest disbelief, some tender emotion just beneath the surface. He has nothing left in this wretched shell to offer anyone, he'd thought - not hope, tears, or love - but for the first time -- for a moment, he feels like, maybe, he might be... ]

Verso... [ his voice is soft and slightly wavering; his grip on the spear loosens slightly so that he might sink down onto one knee, come to his level. The two serpents stretch out affectionately towards him, and this time, Messmer does, as well, extending a hand to rest at his hip. ] My dear Verso... For thee I will strive to burn.

[reverso]

[Verso finds himself glad to have explained his reasoning behind the name, for he’s soon rewarded with an expression he’s not certain he’s ever seen from Messmer. It’s faint, but poignant, and underlined by how the demigod lowers himself to meet his gaze. His heart squeezes pleasantly at the sight of it.

His serpents reach out; so does Messmer. And Verso moves only on instinct, stepping even closer to minimize the space between them, as though he were magnetized and seeking contact. To prove, perhaps, that he is drawn to him not unlike a moth to the flame. His flame, after all.

He, too, reaches out, cupping the side of his face with one hand.]

Ma flamme… You’re already more of a guiding light than you know.

[Someone for Verso to anchor a purpose to. Someone who has given him hope to wish for a better life… for both of them. This uncertain future they share is a swirling, darkened storm, but with Messmer, he truly sees a faint path illuminated before them.

No more words for now, though. Verso leans in, seeking to kiss him, just because he can.]

(in my brain) wow the embrace of messmer's flame real

[anathemaw]

[ and Messmer doesn't pull away. Maybe they're in public - for all he knows, one of his knights might even be sitting in that carriage to drive him back - but, for once, he decides to be selfish, too, indulging this fledgling emotion over his pride and guilt. How quickly things can change. His despair hasn't disappeared; the betrayal still stings, and he doubts that anything can heal that pain; yet, after an eternity of suffering, he's found the will to move forward here, in this small, broken man from a land far beyond the sea of stars.

When Messmer returns the kiss, the hesitation that always dogs his responses to Verso's affection is just a little bit lessened, the moment stretched just a little bit longer. And when their lips art, Messmer doesn't glance away - not exactly, at least. The hand at Verso's side winds to his back, quietly pulling him in closer for a one-armed embrace, burying his face in Verso's hair and the crook of his neck. The winged serpents loop around him gently, too, holding him not like prey but like a supportive branch, their coils draping around his waist. ]

why couldnt i have gotten this in the game instead

[reverso]

[In public, even if they are glanced at by others, it doesn't matter. It is one of those moments that writers try to ply with words, that painters chase in hopes of capturing it. The sort that stills time itself to a stop, where nothing else matters than the person he's sharing it with.

Their lips may part, but Verso remains in the demigod's embrace, cradled in his warmth. He holds him close, too, breathing out a contented exhale. The future looms brightly, a contorted path that they both must follow, uncertainty sure to dog their steps... But right now, he cannot feel anything more than affection and gratitude towards Messmer.

He makes sure to say it, too, though not nearly as elegantly as he'd like.]

Thank you... for everything. For all of it.

[For hope, for a future, for companionship, for a new purpose, for opening up to him, for looking at his own sins and not turning him away for it. For making him feel this way.]