if you try and chase the sun you're never gonna catch it
Vesper doesn’t flinch when Caly says Flora’s name, already knowing what he does, but he feels the way it reverberates through his sister. The cut of it in her chest, the way she braces behind the words like they might recoil on her, or worse—land true. The shadows behind his back thrum low and steady, a heartbeat darker than the dusklight spilling across the bar. His fingers curl just slightly where they rest behind Colt, a tether against the pulse of fury rising in him. Not for the fight—not yet—but for the fact that it’s come to this at all. On her fucking birthday
His eyes never leave Calypso, not even when Kaisel tries to play the martyr, all wide-eyed and louder now, like noise might clear the smoke. Vesper knows better; there’s no storm coming—they’re already in it. So when he speaks, his voice is cool and velvet-smooth, carrying across the room without needing to climb. A blade doesn’t have to yell to cut.
"Hey, lover boy." He tilts his head, the drawl like ice slipping down the spine. "You deaf, or you just slow? ‘Cause the birthday girl asked you to go."
The shadows rise with him. Not dramatic, not a threat, just a low, languid spill around his heels, brushing along the floor like something old and hungry starting to stretch its legs. They aren’t pointed yet, but they’re curious, coiling near Kaisel’s boots like smoke deciding whether or not to choke the fire out of a candle.
Vesper lifts his glass again, the ice clinking softly. "You wanna show what kind of a man you are? Start by listenin’ when a woman tells you no." And though his expression doesn’t shift, his mind opens just wide enough for one person— Jack —to catch the flicker of his fury. Not loud. Not messy. Just a sharp flash of brotherly rage dressed in a tailored suit of shadows.
His eyes never leave Calypso, not even when Kaisel tries to play the martyr, all wide-eyed and louder now, like noise might clear the smoke. Vesper knows better; there’s no storm coming—they’re already in it. So when he speaks, his voice is cool and velvet-smooth, carrying across the room without needing to climb. A blade doesn’t have to yell to cut.
"Hey, lover boy." He tilts his head, the drawl like ice slipping down the spine. "You deaf, or you just slow? ‘Cause the birthday girl asked you to go."
The shadows rise with him. Not dramatic, not a threat, just a low, languid spill around his heels, brushing along the floor like something old and hungry starting to stretch its legs. They aren’t pointed yet, but they’re curious, coiling near Kaisel’s boots like smoke deciding whether or not to choke the fire out of a candle.
Vesper lifts his glass again, the ice clinking softly. "You wanna show what kind of a man you are? Start by listenin’ when a woman tells you no." And though his expression doesn’t shift, his mind opens just wide enough for one person— Jack —to catch the flicker of his fury. Not loud. Not messy. Just a sharp flash of brotherly rage dressed in a tailored suit of shadows.
And now it's turning out to be the worst of my bad habits
☆ 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.
