impractical | open post 2025

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open post 2025

leave a starter or prompt; happy to plot first via pm or plurk.
muselist here.
spoilers and nsfw possible, will mark in tls.

wip list of tropes and stuff i pretty much always want to play:

lotus-eater situation, aka "you're living your perfect life and don't realize it's killing you!"
pining! you know the hand flex gif from p&p? of course you do
vampires...
misunderstandings between people who have feelings for each other, i.e. thinking one of them is interested in someone else and it comes to a head in heated admissions of Feelings
slow burn over a psl
ALL the h/c, whether one or two-sided
fwiw some of my favorite bstreet memes are morning after, train to the afterlife, drunk meme, find them dying, and insomnia
text is always going to be a yes from me dawg
classics: only one bed, huddle for warmth
amnesia???

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[Those bright and pale eyes that resemble his own shine with curiosity. His lack anything of the sort and appear to be gazing through her into another world - a what he observes draws him back inside. But her words bring him back to earth and make him frown at the memories she invokes. He remembers she is a child and her curiosity is forgivable compared to that of her companions.

He softens in expression and manner and offers her honesty. His face reveals him as a contrast to the world she knows. Hell, his clothes are older than anyone has been alive.]

Everything was different. The world was safe and open to explore.

[Everyone was different, he thinks. People were safe and he was sure they would not harm his family. But he continues.]

But when we made landfall, we realised how small our world truly was.

[Well, that realisation came later. But at least the emotion is true?]

[ She's heard stories. Everyone has. Whether they were the sort of vague fairytale-like myths during childhood or the more historical reports of the decades past that the expeditions review, there is a lot that's been said about their recent, stolen history. Of course, no one's ever heard from a primary source (as Lune or Gustave might call him), so there's a natural intrigue that comes from just being in his presence.

Let alone the whole...staring-at-her bit. ]

What happened? [ From his perspective. Because, again: stories are stories. What he's sharing is -- assumedly -- the truth. ] ...I mean, I know what we've heard. What the old journals say. But...

[ To have been there? It's difficult to imagine, for someone who comes from an even smaller world than Renoir speaks of. ]

[Renoir scrutinises her for a moment, deciding whether to talk, and then choosing what he should introduce to the conversation.]

It is not something one can easily describe. [How can one describe the destruction and chaos that followed?] I suppose a mademoiselle such as yourself would have enjoyed riding one of the airships.

[Before the expedition stole those remaining and crashed against the cliffs - and by crashed he means he blasted them out of the sky.

In any case, he is notably avoiding talking about his own personal experience. But given what that experience was, is it understandable he is reluctant to talk?]

Right. [ "Not easy to describe," he says, and it makes sense even if it's a non-answer. It's probably really difficult, she assumes, telling someone about how different the world used to be when it was more or less a completely different place. It isn't as if he could just tell her the oceans had been...purple instead of blue, or something straightforward.

What he does tell her, though, has her perk up a bit. ]

Airships? [ Flying has always been one of those fantastical things, of course, that exists only in stories. In the sparse birds that make their home within the Dome because that is where they were born. This naturally appeals to a girl who'd wanted nothing more than to fly the coop that was Lumière, and so she steps a little closer, peering up at Renoir with interest. ] Really? What...was it like?

[ Getting to see the whole world from way up high. Getting to go wherever you wanted... ]

Liberating.

[His single word is chosen with care, crafted to appeal to a child who has never seen the world. But she can experience the kind of freedom those in the canvas can never experience, were they to learn the truth behind reality. It is something his daughter accepts and laments in equal measure, and thoughts of her pouring her emotions into her poetry pauses his considerations.

Let them think he lost his loved ones. Better he keeps her safe than risk her suffering all she did before.]

Humanity has always desired to soar like the birds, no?

[Getting to see the whole world from way up high. Getting to go wherever you wanted.]

[ Maelle nods at the sentiment. Of course, she's not the only person who's ever dreamed of getting out of the town they were born in, but compared with most of her peers, Maelle seems to suffer from an especially keen feeling of wanderlust. ...No, that's not it. It hasn't been a desire to see the world: to travel, to explore, to learn. It's merely been an urge to get away. To run along the horizon line and never look back.

Gustave says it's just that she's at That Age. Maelle usually rolls her eyes, annoyed, insisting he's wrong. ]

What...happened to the airships? [ The Fracture had obviously done a lot of damage to the world at large, but she can't summon to mind knowledge on what exactly had made this form of travel no longer viable in the new world. ] Nevrons? Or...?

[ It's somehow easy to imagine this man on an airship. He has an...important bearing, with the coat and the cane. Maybe some of it's due to his age, too, but she feels it's more an intangible thing that lends itself to him having the air of a person who'd stand at the helm of a flying ship and direct it onward into unknown lands.

...Oh, right. He is -- was -- also a commander. Well, even so. ]

[Her first suspicion are those monsters that scour the continent for signs of humanity. He understands why her mind goes there, because it is easier to imagine monsters killing your family than to accept it was somebody just like you. Someone with a home and family of their own.

Not that that had ever stopped him when it came to his family being in danger. She is not his daughter, but she is Aline's.]

We never gave it much thought. [Had they been pulled together with earth and water towards the monolith? Had they been thrown across the sky to smash into cliffs and through the ocean?] We were too busy preparing our defenses and searching for our families.

[The worst of times that would have sent others fleeing in the opposite direction, and he and his son had sprinted into the fire.]

But their remains are out there. Somewhere.

Oh. [ Strange, she thinks, that they wouldn't want to know what happened to such a useful resource. That they wouldn't have tried to rebuild them. But...resources are finite, and were so even back then. Maybe even more, considering the chaos after the Fracture. So Maelle nods in understanding, eyes drifting past him and over the sea.

They live in a more controlled chaos, now. A predictable one. ...Before setting off for their Expedition, anyway. ]

Did you find them? Your family.

[ This is obviously an important subject to her, considering her bond with the man who'd shielded her from Renoir's sight on the beach. Again, she tries to remember what she's been taught about Expedition Zero, but it's all a little hazy with the intensity of the day. Besides, its commander is here to tell her himself, so why bother with half-remembered facts when she can hear it from him directly? ]

[Her question draws less silence on his part than he might have offered. Her curiosity - that urge to satisfy her need to learn about the world - has driven her away from her home away from home. Of course she would ask about his family. Of course she would relate to his through her own. It follows reason that she would remain close to the one person who makes her feel safe.

Alicia. He resolves to meet his daughter once they make landfall and ensure she feels the same. Until then, he observes this version of her watching the sea, eyes drifting nowhere else.

But her question does not stop him remembering that day the world tore apart.]

Not all of them.

[His words hang heavy on the air, interrupted by nothing but the rhythm of the waves.]

[ It doesn't take a genius, or any further questions, to understand what he means by that. Her expression softens appropriately, gaze drifting again from his face to their surroundings.

The ship has begun to rock a little, suggesting they're properly on their way to...wherever their next stop may be. ]

I'm sorry. [ Maelle offers, but there's not much you can say, and she herself has heard too many condolences for her young life. He's probably sick of them, too, she reasons. So the teenager doesn't dwell, instead ruminating only briefly before asking: ] Do you...want to talk about them?

[ That's better, right? Or at least, she thinks so. To talk about the people you love as they lived rather than dwell on their tragic fates. ]

[Three members of his family survive but live like they want to die. He cannot comfort all at the same time but he must and so will.

The movement of the ship disturbs his thoughts. He turns his gaze towards the helm of the ship, where the commander is keeping one eye on him and the other on the ocean. But if he builds enough of a connection with these people, he will not pose a problem, and can easily be removed from the equation.]

Not today, mademoiselle. [There is a pause as he weighs conflicting thoughts.] But thank you. It is enough that you ask.

[His voice is low and gentle in letting her down. Some people want to talk, others wish to hide. He finds himself caught in the middle and having to choose the optimal path - and instead chooses the third option of putting off that choice until tomorrow.]

Edited 2025-11-22 16:44 (UTC)

'Course. [ She's quick to reply. It's understandable that it'd sting to talk about the lost, even many years later. They live in a world of death, but that doesn't mean the population has become desensitized to it.

Maelle moves to stand closer to the railing, at the old man's side, staring again out at the inky waves before flitting her attention back to Renoir. ]

...I saw you staring. [ It's a statement, and with an underlying question. Is it because of her age? Maelle is used to defending her choices against those who think her too young for an expedition, so she adds, before he answers: ] I'm as ready as anyone else. I've been training hard for years.

[ Like all the rest. Besides, they wouldn't let her become a member if she didn't have what it takes. There's no reason to bring anyone on the expedition who might be a liability. ]

[The Gommage. Senseless and simple accidents.

Renoir senses her gaze upon him and offers her a glance; a tired but warm expression that disappears when he wipes his face with his hand.]

I understand, child. You would rather enjoy one year of exploring this world, than remain home where there is no difference in the day other than death.

[His home is nothing but a silent mausoleum. He knows how it feels to live with death.]

[ She nods slowly, turning to press her back to the rail, surveying the ship. The vessel full of 32 year-olds, all ready to venture out into the world beyond the Dome because their time is almost up. And...she, their one exception. ]

I know it's...weird, but it's my choice. [ Maybe it'd been in large part due to her desire to escape the city, but she's a legitimate member of the Expedition, too. She isn't going to be dead weight, or let anyone down. ] I've got as much a right to be here as anyone, and I care just as much, too.

[ She's lived half as many years as the others, it's true, but that doesn't mean her convictions are any less strong. ]

[Renoir continues looking across the ocean to the monolith. This young girl asserts her right to be here, and she has some level of support in making that choice, whereas he himself asserts the rights of the woman who is keeping them all alive. They are venturing into the world because they have one year remaining. He does all he does to keep time alive.

But there is one fact this daughter of his, who is not his at all, might not realise on either side of the canvas. Sixteen years inside together with the same on the other side, and she is of the right age for this journey.]

I suppose it's possible you care too much. [He sees it everyday when he looks over the ocean. In the words of a woman who is barely able to talk. He feels it himself in his refusal to allow his son to go.] That can be as much a curse as a blessing. But it is good there are those around you who understand.

[Their eyes are watching him, of course. From the commander standing at the wheel to the lieutenant by his side. But the ones watching him closest of all are those of the man leaving the cabin that leads to the lower decks.]

[ That manages to catch her by surprise. Maelle turns to the man with a look that shows as much, brows lifted.

Somehow, she's never been accused of that before, and so she chews on it slowly, frowning. Cares too much...about the expedition? About getting out of Lumiére? Neither of those feel quite right, or...maybe they're both true. ]

...I'm glad to have them. [ She says eventually, looking across the ship. ] They're good people.

[ The man she cherishes most has just emerged from his impromptu strategic session, eyes training on her immediately, then snapping to the old man at her side. And because Gustave wastes no time in hurrying toward them, Maelle sighs and tilts her head toward Renoir. ]

Even if some of them worry too much. [ Comes the fond, if teasing remark. Before her guardian can join them, she takes a few steps in his direction, arms behind her back. ] ...I guess we'll...talk again sometime, I'm sure. Whenever we land, or something.

[ Not that she knows where they're headed, given she'd been socializing with the stranger all this time. But Maelle has no doubt she'll have more questions for him, and that he'll have stories for her in return.

Assuming Alan doesn't lock him up. ]

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