when rome's in ruins, we are the lions
Vesper chuckles low in his throat, the sound warm and wry as he wipes down the bar with a lazy flick of his wrist. "Most of the ones who gotta fight to prove they're tough?" he says, watching Jeff sip from the straw like a little velvet drunkard. "They're usually the weakest in the room. Shoutin’ the loudest ‘cause they’re scared no one’s listenin’."
He tosses the rag over his shoulder, pale eyes drifting back to Nova with a glint of dry amusement. "You keep an eye on the ones actin’ like they got nothin’ to prove. Quiet ones. Calm ones. Those are the ones who can tear the whole place down without spillin’ their drink."
But whatever softness there is in the drawl cools fast as she casually drops dragon snap, aka snapdragon, into the mix. His hand stills on the counter, and when he looks at her again, there’s something far less lazy about it. His brow rises—not angry, exactly, but alert in a way that prickles. "You tried what now?" It’s not loud, not sharp. Just edged.
His shadows still at his feet, quiet but not asleep, and his mind stretches automatically—a flicker of telepathy reaching for the mental echoes behind her words. He’s not above digging if she tries to wave it off. "When was this, and who were you with?" he asks, voice like velvet stretched tight over something less forgiving. He’s had the stuff, sure—knows the heat it sets under your skin, how it makes your thoughts sing and your body feel unbreakable. But she’s his sister, so the rules are different.
Even Jeff, perched now on the rim of a nearby glass, seems to sense the change in the air and goes very, very still.
He tosses the rag over his shoulder, pale eyes drifting back to Nova with a glint of dry amusement. "You keep an eye on the ones actin’ like they got nothin’ to prove. Quiet ones. Calm ones. Those are the ones who can tear the whole place down without spillin’ their drink."
But whatever softness there is in the drawl cools fast as she casually drops dragon snap, aka snapdragon, into the mix. His hand stills on the counter, and when he looks at her again, there’s something far less lazy about it. His brow rises—not angry, exactly, but alert in a way that prickles. "You tried what now?" It’s not loud, not sharp. Just edged.
His shadows still at his feet, quiet but not asleep, and his mind stretches automatically—a flicker of telepathy reaching for the mental echoes behind her words. He’s not above digging if she tries to wave it off. "When was this, and who were you with?" he asks, voice like velvet stretched tight over something less forgiving. He’s had the stuff, sure—knows the heat it sets under your skin, how it makes your thoughts sing and your body feel unbreakable. But she’s his sister, so the rules are different.
Even Jeff, perched now on the rim of a nearby glass, seems to sense the change in the air and goes very, very still.
free of the colosseums
☆ 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.
