vesper
The Greatwood breathes in the quiet of twilight, a hush draped over the ancient boughs as dusk bleeds slowly into night. High above the Sidhe Village, where the world narrows into vertigo and stars gather like gossip in the sky, a silver shape winds through the branches.
Vesper moves with care and familiarity, his boots silent on the bark, his pale hair catching hints of starlight as he ascends the spiralling pathways and ladders that web the Observatory. He doesn’t fly. Doesn’t misty-step. There’s something about the climb that feels right. Earned. Ritualistic.
At the top, the world opens into sky.
The Observatory is quiet tonight—no stargazers, no watchers. Just candles guttering gently in their lanterns, suspended by threads of spider silk or nestled in clusters along the edge of the platform. The shrine is woven into the tree itself, carved and curved to fit the hollow of the trunk’s crown. There’s no dome, no roof—only stars, and the sense that if you stretched far enough, you could touch one.
Vesper kneels without drama. He doesn’t bow—he never has—but there’s reverence in the way he brushes away the dried leaves scattered at the base of the shrine. His shadows flit ahead of him, clearing the last debris, curling protectively around the small offering he sets down. It’s a shard of midnight glass from Stormbreak, etched faintly with a constellation that doesn’t belong to any of Caido’s charts. No mortal eyes have seen what his have, given where he grew up.
Fingers still against the wood, he finally speaks, his voice low and unhurried. "Ma. You got a minute?"
Vesper moves with care and familiarity, his boots silent on the bark, his pale hair catching hints of starlight as he ascends the spiralling pathways and ladders that web the Observatory. He doesn’t fly. Doesn’t misty-step. There’s something about the climb that feels right. Earned. Ritualistic.
At the top, the world opens into sky.
The Observatory is quiet tonight—no stargazers, no watchers. Just candles guttering gently in their lanterns, suspended by threads of spider silk or nestled in clusters along the edge of the platform. The shrine is woven into the tree itself, carved and curved to fit the hollow of the trunk’s crown. There’s no dome, no roof—only stars, and the sense that if you stretched far enough, you could touch one.
Vesper kneels without drama. He doesn’t bow—he never has—but there’s reverence in the way he brushes away the dried leaves scattered at the base of the shrine. His shadows flit ahead of him, clearing the last debris, curling protectively around the small offering he sets down. It’s a shard of midnight glass from Stormbreak, etched faintly with a constellation that doesn’t belong to any of Caido’s charts. No mortal eyes have seen what his have, given where he grew up.
Fingers still against the wood, he finally speaks, his voice low and unhurried. "Ma. You got a minute?"
Tell the preacher not to pray, there's no angels where I'll go
Only pieces that are broken scattered dreams across the floor
Only pieces that are broken scattered dreams across the floor
☆ 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.
