VESPER
The market spills with sound and scents: citrus peels curling beneath bare feet, salt glittering in the air, the scent of sweat and mango thick enough to taste. Vendors shout over one another in overlapping cadences, haggling in half a dozen dialects while children chase each other between stalls draped in sun-bleached linens. Somewhere, someone’s playing a cracked ukulele and somehow managing to sound good. Vesper moves through the tide of bodies with the natural grace of someone born to be followed, not bumped. His shirt is unbuttoned halfway—more fashion than heat management—and the silver rings on his fingers catch the light as he idly twirls one, a slow orbit around the bone of his knuckle. The leather bracelet from Colt is snug against his wrist, its star still dusted faintly with Feverlands sand.
Beside him, his sister is a sight to behold, but then, when isn't she? "Y’know," he murmurs, voice low enough to drift only to her, "won’t be half as fun for me." Vesper says, of the masquerade. His eyes skim the crowd—every thought around them pressing against the edges of his mind, familiar like the faces behind masquerade masks soon will be. "Won’t matter what they wear. I’ll still know who’s who." A shrug lifts one shoulder, languid and unconcerned, before his mouth crooks into a sideways smirk. "Still. Guess it’ll be fun watchin’ everyone pretend."
Pausing by a stall selling bolts of fabric, Vesper begins to trickle his fingers over the different weights and fabrics.
Beside him, his sister is a sight to behold, but then, when isn't she? "Y’know," he murmurs, voice low enough to drift only to her, "won’t be half as fun for me." Vesper says, of the masquerade. His eyes skim the crowd—every thought around them pressing against the edges of his mind, familiar like the faces behind masquerade masks soon will be. "Won’t matter what they wear. I’ll still know who’s who." A shrug lifts one shoulder, languid and unconcerned, before his mouth crooks into a sideways smirk. "Still. Guess it’ll be fun watchin’ everyone pretend."
Pausing by a stall selling bolts of fabric, Vesper begins to trickle his fingers over the different weights and fabrics.
And I'm going down, where the waves will surround
to the roar and the pound, Of the wild wild sea
Talking sweet to me
to the roar and the pound, Of the wild wild sea
Talking sweet to me
☆ 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.
