By the time the front doors swing open, Vesper’s reappearing from the hallway with his sleeves rolled up and his silver rings dusted with a fine layer of grit. The supply closet—no longer a supply closet—is finished, or near enough. Reinforced shelving lines the walls, sturdy enough to hold far more than linen or lemons now, and the mirrored panel mounted across from the bench makes the small room look larger…and far more depraved. He’s just finished smoothing the last bolt flush to the frame when he hears the swish of skirts and the bounce of voices, and his shadows slip along the floor in welcome.
"Sounds like the stars came out early," he drawls, stepping into the bar proper just as Caly drapes herself along the counter and Nova starts radiant-rattling like she’s a shaken bottle of champagne. His mouth curls at the twin tumble of stories, and he leans a hip against the bar to listen with his arms crossed, his constellation freckles pulsing softly in the dusk light.
"VIP seat for the lighting guy, huh?" he muses, eyes flicking from one glittering sister to the other. "I’ll even let him skip the line for drinks. Y’real charmers, both of you." And he means it—not just for their bargaining, but for the way they brighten every room they enter like a pair of shooting stars. With a satisfied hum, Vesper steps behind the bar, fingers flicking through bottles and tinctures with familiar ease.
"For the artist," he says, setting a vibrant purple drink before Nova in a frosted glass dusted with edible glitter, "and for the diplomat," he adds, passing a golden cocktail to Caly, garnished with a twist of citrus and a hint of spice. "On the house."
He lifts a drink of his own, cool and dark like shadowed velvet. "To our little constellation," he toasts softly, voice touched with affection. "The Hanged Man’s never looked brighter."
~FIN
"Sounds like the stars came out early," he drawls, stepping into the bar proper just as Caly drapes herself along the counter and Nova starts radiant-rattling like she’s a shaken bottle of champagne. His mouth curls at the twin tumble of stories, and he leans a hip against the bar to listen with his arms crossed, his constellation freckles pulsing softly in the dusk light.
"VIP seat for the lighting guy, huh?" he muses, eyes flicking from one glittering sister to the other. "I’ll even let him skip the line for drinks. Y’real charmers, both of you." And he means it—not just for their bargaining, but for the way they brighten every room they enter like a pair of shooting stars. With a satisfied hum, Vesper steps behind the bar, fingers flicking through bottles and tinctures with familiar ease.
"For the artist," he says, setting a vibrant purple drink before Nova in a frosted glass dusted with edible glitter, "and for the diplomat," he adds, passing a golden cocktail to Caly, garnished with a twist of citrus and a hint of spice. "On the house."
He lifts a drink of his own, cool and dark like shadowed velvet. "To our little constellation," he toasts softly, voice touched with affection. "The Hanged Man’s never looked brighter."
~FIN
I'm pedal to the metal make no mistake, this is my pity party, pity party
& I'm living out of time, eternal heatstroke
& I'm living out of time, eternal heatstroke
☆ has a pale star tattoo beneath his left eye, and freckle-sized constellations move across his skin
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
