connoisseurs of comfort

NIKI

Darkness has already fallen by the time Niki gets himself home from the Sidhe Village, and the bottom floor of the old funeral parlour soon lights up warmly from within. The fire crackles in the living room, the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts in from the kitchen and, for Niki's part, he'd headed straight for the shower after those two immediate needs had been met (those being warmth and caffeine).

Sloughing away the caked-on mud from his earlier tumble in the woods, by the time he emerges in clean clothes and with his dark hair a soft, damp mess around his face, coffee alone isn't going to cut it any longer. It's as he steps into the kitchen to prepare himself something to eat that he hears the first lashings of rain against his windows.

Turning to blink out into the endless black, he can't help the sigh that escapes him; relief and contentment combined, that he'd made it home before the rain and that he can now listen to it in peace for the evening. With a small smile on his face, the necromancer puts a pot on the stove and sets about chopping a few root vegetables and herbs, intending, apparently, on making a soup.

stay your pretty eyes on course
i guess i never really faced my fears before

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

VESPER

The rain has settled into a steady, satisfied rhythm by the time Vesper decides the evening could use improvement. He has already been inside for a while, long enough for his fur to be entirely dry and fluffed back into place, long enough to assess the space and deem it acceptable. The old funeral parlour has good bones—quiet corners, warm light, the kind of stillness that listens rather than presses—and the smells drifting from the kitchen are grounding in a way he doesn’t usually admit to appreciating.

In his current form, Vesper takes up very little room, a black shape arranged neatly atop the kitchen table as though it were the most natural place in the world for him to be. His tail curls around his paws with deliberate elegance, ears relaxed, posture unbothered. He does not knock anything over, he does not announce himself. He simply is, the way cats are, sovereign and uninvited.

When Niki eventually turns—because of course he must at some point— Vesper will life his head just enough to meet the necromancer’s gaze. The blue of his eyes is impossible to miss, bright and unblinking, catching the firelight in a way that has nothing at all to do with reflection and everything to do with intent. There is no apology in it, no surprise, not even curiosity. He does not meow, he does not move, he merely watches, tail tip flicking once, as rain lashes the windows and the house settles around them both, content in the knowledge that, once again, he has found his way exactly where he wants to be.

rot gut whiskey's gonna ease your mind
but when the hell are you gonna ease mine?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

NIKI

Niki does indeed turn around after putting his vegetables and herbs into the soup pot along with a few other seasonings, the boy intending to wash his hands and pour himself another cup of coffee when the startling black shape that shouldn't be there catches his eye. Jumping a bit despite himself - and then blinking at the cat as if expecting it to announce its presence properly - he eventually glances around for any open doorways or windows. But no, the feline is bone dry and looks perfectly content, so evidently it hasn't just wandered in.

"Now how did you get here," he wonders with a soft huff of laughter, wiping his hands dry and tugging out a chair to plop down before the cat and tilt his head. "Not sure this is the sort of place you would want to stay," he continues; evidently talking to himself is second nature anyway, and it merely extends to animals now too. "But with the weather this bad, I suppose it is better than being out in the rain, no?"

Sighing, he reaches out a careful hand for the cat to investigate, palm down, ring glinting on his finger.

stay your pretty eyes on course
i guess i never really faced my fears before

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

VESPER

The cat does not answer, because cats never do, and because whatever rules govern this small, borrowed body do not include indulging curiosity with explanations. Instead, Vesper watches the necromancer with the same unblinking patience perfected by felines over centuries, blue eyes bright and unreadable as they follow the movement of Niki settling into the chair opposite him.

There is something pleasing about the sound of his laugh, soft and unguarded, and without the usual edge of barbs or defensiveness it reaches Vesper in a simpler way, slipping past thought and settling somewhere instinctive. He stays perfectly still as the offered hand comes closer, posture composed, tail tucked neatly in place, as though he has all the time in the world and no reason to rush.

After a moment, he leans forward; the motion is careful, deliberate, nose brushing close enough to draw in the scent clinging to Niki’s skin. Vegetables, freshly cut, sharp and green beneath the warmth of soap and clean water, with something quieter underneath it all that speaks of safety rather than threat. It surprises him, that instinctive ease, the way his borrowed body accepts the nearness without hesitation despite everything that usually crackles between them. Decision made, Vesper rises to his feet and closes the remaining distance himself, pressing his forehead into Niki’s waiting hand with gentle insistence. The contact is brief but purposeful, a wordless claim, fur brushing skin as he angles for the sort of attention cats demand without ever asking for it outright.

rot gut whiskey's gonna ease your mind
but when the hell are you gonna ease mine?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Orbs of light beckon and call from the darkened angles and shadows of trees. Were those whispers of your friends? Family? Fallen allies?

Was that a scream? Could they be in trouble?

Is it all in your head? Just your imagination?

Or something else altogether – because what if it’s true?

---

You’ve encountered a Will-O-Wisp. This counts as a common creature encounter for the purposes of levelling, but does not count as a Random Event for levelling or MP. There will be no further admin/re intervention. If you choose to follow this creature, you do so at your own risk, however, just having it in this thread is enough to satisfy your levelling requirements.

---

Will-O-Wisps Areas Found: Greatwood — Common Glowing orbs of light that dance and weave between the branches, despite their usefulness, these creatures are not to be trusted. Mischievous and loyal to no one, they will lead travellers astray at a moment's notice. Challenge Rating: Moderate HP: 38 | To Hit: +80 | Dmg: 5 Movement: Float 30 ft. (hover) SPECIAL SKILLS Misdirection: deliberately leads travellers away from their intended path; Elusive Motion: difficult to follow or catch due to erratic movement

TRAITS Luminescent Form: glows brightly in dim or dark environments; Branch-Dancing: weaves easily among treetops and forest paths; Mischievous Nature: acts unpredictably, without loyalty ACTIONS Eating a wisp is impossible, as it disperses into faint motes of light upon contact; attempting to do so leaves only a fleeting afterimage and a tingling sensation on the tongue.

NIKI

"Yeah, I thought so too," Niki says as if the feline has supplied much more in return than a sniff of his hand and a friendly headbutt. His fingers scritch briefly at the soft, plush fur without lingering too long; the necromancer might not have kept pets for a very long time, but he's not unfamiliar with the mercurial nature of cats. (And if he'd known who was, in fact, wearing the fur of this particular kitty, a lot of things might have suddenly made sense).

"Well," he continues, rising back to his feet and glancing, albeit briefly, at the flicker of something at the window - a will-o-wisp, not that it can do much from out in the downpour, "I am making myself dinner, but I doubt you will want what I am having. I do think I have some cream, though."

His cane appears in his hand without aplomb, Niki crossing to the fridge to rummage around, then to a cupboard for a saucer. Setting the cream on the table for his new cat friend, he offers him a polite enough nod before removing himself once more to finish making his dinner.

stay your pretty eyes on course
i guess i never really faced my fears before

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

VESPER

The cat’s stare sharpens the moment the scritching stops, blue eyes narrowing just enough to convey profound offence. He does not move, does not vocalise, does not so much as flick his tail, but the look itself is eloquent, the feline equivalent of did I fuckin' say stop? It fades only when Niki mentions cream, at which point Vesper’s attention slides after him with unmistakable focus, gaze tracking every step from cupboard to fridge with predatory interest.

When the saucer is set before him, he lowers his head to inspect it first, nose hovering just above the pale surface as he weighs the offering with all the solemnity it deserves. Satisfied, he laps delicately, tongue precise and unhurried, finding the taste inexplicably perfect. Rich, cool, indulgent in a way he has never once enjoyed as a man, and yet now it feels entirely correct, as though this body has opinions he is only just beginning to understand. He pauses now and then to swipe his tongue neatly over his whiskers, fastidious even in indulgence, ensuring not a drop disturbs the sleek perfection of his coat before returning to the saucer to finish every last trace. Only once it is pristine does he lift his head again, eyes half-lidded with contentment.

By then, Niki has turned his attention back to the stove, the kitchen settling into the quiet domestic rhythm of simmering soup and rain against glass. Vesper watches for another moment, committing the scene to memory—the warmth, the ease, the absence of sharp edges—before making his decision. With a smooth hop, he drops down from the table, landing without a sound, and slips away into the deeper shadows of the house. He moves through it like he belongs there, tail high, curiosity leading him onward as he explores rooms and corners at his leisure, leaving the kitchen behind and the faint sense that, once again, he has inserted himself exactly where he was not invited, and exactly where he intends to remain.

rot gut whiskey's gonna ease your mind
but when the hell are you gonna ease mine?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

NIKI

Settling his concentration on his current task, by the time Niki realises the cat has disappeared he's been gone for quite some time, leaving only an empty saucer in his wake. Still, the necromancer treats that as an offering accepted, smirking to himself and continuing about his business. While he finishes his soup, eats and washes up, Vesper will find the ground floor of Niki's home to be mostly unremarkable.

His bedroom is as neat and uncluttered as expected, his workshop the complete opposite as if by design, and aside from the lounge and a bathroom, there's very little else to see. There are other doors, of course, and a disused staircase spidering both up and, curiously, down, but the doors to those areas are closed and locked.

And Niki, once he's finished with dinner, heads into the living room where the fire has started to get low. Adding a few more logs to it and dismissing his cane to sit on the couch, he props his bad leg up on a plush footstool and grabs for the book he'd been reading, settling in quiet peace to listen to the pop of sap and the continuing patter of rain.

stay your pretty eyes on course
i guess i never really faced my fears before

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

VESPER

Vesper prowls through the house with quiet thoroughness, paws silent against worn floorboards as he moves from room to room, cataloguing impressions the way he always does. The bedroom is exactly as expected; orderly, restrained, every surface placed with intention rather than comfort, nothing left where it might require bending or unnecessary strain. The bathroom follows suit, built around accommodation rather than indulgence, functional and immaculate in a way that speaks of long habit rather than recent injury. It tells him nothing surprising, and yet it tells him plenty.

The workshop is another matter entirely, cluttered to the point of defiance, tools and half-finished projects layered atop one another as if chaos itself has been given permission to breathe there. Vesper lingers longer than intended, tail flicking once as he takes it in, before his attention is drawn instead to the closed doors and the strange suggestion of stairs that lead both up and down. He noses at one briefly, then another, but without hands—without options—he files the information away for later and moves on.

By the time Niki settles himself in the living room, fire renewed and book in hand, Vesper is finishing up his circuit. He enters without ceremony, a black shadow slipping soundlessly into the warm glow of the hearth. For a long moment, he simply watches, assessing posture and placement, the way the necromancer’s leg is elevated and supported, the deliberate care taken even in rest. Then, instead of leaping where instinct (and pettiness) might suggest, he jumps onto the couch itself, the movement smooth and measured. From there, he steps forward and lowers himself directly onto Niki’s lap, tucking into a perfect loaf. His plush tail curls neatly around his legs, fur warm and impossibly soft, weight settling with unarguable confidence as though this, too, has always been his place.

rot gut whiskey's gonna ease your mind
but when the hell are you gonna ease mine?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

NIKI

The streak of darkness prowling into the room has Niki's eyes lifting from his book, a brow arching over the pages and a smile curling at his lips despite himself. "Hello, little ghost," he greets. "Everything in the house is to your satisfaction, I take?" Lifting the book a little higher as the feline leaps first onto the couch and then directly onto Niki's lap, whilst the necromancer is surprised at first, he settles soon enough.

"You ought to be careful, or I might be tempted to let you stay," he adds with a quiet chuckle, waiting until the cat settles into a perfect, warm weight on his legs before lowering the book again. "I am not sure you will find this all too interesting, though. I am reading about the melting point of different metals. I have been considering going to a forge for some of my work."

As he speaks, naturally his free hand comes down in a soft and indulgent stroke against the feline's plush fur, clever fingers scritching behind his ears and beneath his chin. "Perhaps we can make something for you too, mm?"

stay your pretty eyes on course
i guess i never really faced my fears before

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

VESPER

If the nickname registers at all, it does so only as background noise, filed away beneath warmer, more immediate concerns. Vesper shifts his weight with deliberate care, settling more fully into Niki’s lap as though testing the balance of it, then deciding it is acceptable. His body relaxes by degrees, spine easing, tail loosening its careful coil, the heat from the fire and the steady rise and fall beneath him combining into something dangerously comfortable.

He pointedly ignores the conversation, eyes half-lidded even as Niki speaks on metallurgy and forges and hypothetical futures, because this body has decided that words are optional and touch is not. The moment fingers find the sensitive places beneath his chin and behind his ears, the last of his composure slips quietly away and his eyes close entirely.

The sound surprises him at first—a low, rhythmic vibration that seems to come from everywhere and nowhere—rumbling through his chest before he quite realises it is him. Purring. The absurdity of it barely has time to register before instinct claims the moment, the sound deepening, steady and unselfconscious, rising and falling in time with the gentle scritching that draws it out of him again and again. He leans into the touch without thinking, chin tipping up to grant better access, paws tucking closer beneath himself as if to anchor the sensation. Whatever sharp edges exist between them in other shapes and other moments have no foothold here; there is only warmth, and pressure, and the treacherous ease of being touched in a way that feels free of strings.

If he stays very still, if he keeps his eyes closed and lets the purr continue unabated, perhaps this version of him can pretend—just for a little while longer—that all of this is fine, and that this is not escapism at its finest.

rot gut whiskey's gonna ease your mind
but when the hell are you gonna ease mine?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

NIKI

Unable not to smile at the suddenly rumbling furball in his lap, Niki does wisely let the conversation (if it can be called that) on metalwork fade, and before he knows it he's quietly closed his book too, setting it back on the side table. Vesper might be the one fleeing all sorts of emotional nasties from King's End all the way up to here in the Greatwood, but he's certainly not the only one who has ever been alone for any length of time, and the necromancer surprises himself with how comfortable he lets himself become.

The deep purring offers a perfect harmony to the sound of the rain and the fire, Niki letting his eyes shut as his fingers follow the directions Vesper sets with how he leans into the fuss. He doesn't intend to fall into a doze, but that's usually how these sorts of things go, and it's only after the third time he catches himself with renewed petting to the feline in his lap that he realises he really ought to just go to bed.

"Loathe as I am to move you," he mumbles, rubbing at his eyes, "it is probably better not to sleep on the couch. Come on." He doesn't reach for the dark, furry loaf so much as he simply begins to move, trusting the feline to understand the world starting to shift beneath him as a sign to get up.

stay your pretty eyes on course
i guess i never really faced my fears before

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

VESPER

The movement beneath him pulls Vesper back from the edge of sleep, blue eyes blinking open in slow, drowsy protest as the warmth he’s been loafing on dares to shift. He makes a small, indignant sound in his throat—a soft, questioning mrrp that clearly conveys his feelings on the matter—before conceding to gravity and springing neatly from Niki’s lap. He shakes himself once, fur fluffing back into immaculate order, and then he’s gone.

A streak of black slips from the living room and down the hallway with sudden purpose, paws skimming over the floorboards as though he’s always known exactly where he’s headed. By the time Niki makes it into his bedroom, he'll find Vesper curled atop his pillow, a compact, perfect crescent of dark fur nestled into the place that smells most unmistakably of the necromancer. His tail tucks close, nose pressed faintly into the fabric, eyes half-lidded and content in a way that leaves very little room for negotiation. He opens one eye as Niki enters, watching him with quiet certainty, as if daring him to argue the point.

rot gut whiskey's gonna ease your mind
but when the hell are you gonna ease mine?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

NIKI

"I know, I am sorry," Niki agrees; if he'd been in the feline's position he'd have likely given much more than a mrrp of protest, after all. With his cane back in hand, he spends a few minutes making sure the fire is out and that the house is more or less in order before heading down towards his bedroom, assuming his furry shadow to have gone elsewhere - but no. He's still about; right on Niki's pillow, as it happens.

And because cats are able to get away with things that the majority of creatures are not, he does little more than scoff out a laugh and shake his head. "If I end up using you as a pillow instead, I do not think you will enjoy it," he warns, sinking carefully onto the side of the bed and dismissing his cane. It's quiet and methodical, the way the necromancer readies himself for sleep, much like everything else he does, but this is for a reason at least.

Working at buckles and clasps on the brace around his knee, Niki frees his bad leg from the cage of its support with a quiet hiss of pain, setting the contraption to one side for the morning. Pulling off his shirt next, the movement leaving his dark hair boyish and tousled, feline eyes will gain a glimpse of the body beneath the clothes in a way no one else ever has. Niki's frame is pale and slender, his back and shoulders nicked with the odd scar or two and his left forearm littered with more extensive work. But it's nothing to the stark lines of silver that strike in a vee down from his collarbones, joining to plunge towards his navel.

But there's no self-consciousness there now, not when he considers himself alone, and the boy folds the shirt to cast it aside before giving a similar treatment to the slacks he'd put on. "Well, let us hope the rain stops for the morning," he says by way of goodnight, watching expectantly to see if his new friend will move of his own free will, or if Niki's head is going to be the encouragement.

stay your pretty eyes on course
i guess i never really faced my fears before

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!