VESPER
Vesper stiffens the moment Jack draws near. Not just from the sound of his voice—low and sardonic, curling like smoke around the edges of Vesper’s frayed nerves—but from the sheer proximity, the sudden gravity of someone whose mind he can’t hear. It should be a relief, a reprieve, a breath of silence in a room full of screaming, but right now, it just makes him feel unmoored.
Vesper turns toward him, slow and brittle, his jaw clenched so tightly beneath the porcelain mask it’s a wonder his teeth don’t crack. He looks, frankly, like hell. Not in the usual dramatic way he enjoys—no artful aloofness, no deliberate dishevelment—but like if he lets go for even a second, he might vomit or disappear into mist.
He opens his mouth to respond, some sharp little blade of sarcasm already half-formed on his tongue—but nothing comes out. The words fall short, swallowed by the static gnawing at the base of his skull, and for a moment all he can do is breathe, or try to.
Then, slowly, he shifts his gaze and picks the first mind he can feel. It’s a young woman at the table beside them, fingers curling delicately around a flute of fruit punch as she lowers the edge of her cloak to show off her cleavage with what she clearly thinks is subtlety. Her thoughts are glittery and crude, all candy-pink fantasy with someone called Aaron’s hands on her waist, if she could just get the timing right. It helps a little, ike throwing a thread across a storm and pretending it’s a lifeline. His shoulders drop half an inch, the throb behind his eyes easing from a knife to a dull pressure. The masquerade doesn’t stop spinning, but the carousel slows just enough for him to catch the rhythm again.
When he finally glances at Jack, it’s not with a smirk or a quip, but with something closer to a plea. Barely there, but unmistakable—a flash of rawness in the cold blue of his eyes, a sliver of white-knuckled panic beneath all that elegant self-control. Like he’s hanging on by fingertips and expecting the edge to crumble.
"I hate this party," he mutters, voice hoarse with restraint.
Vesper turns toward him, slow and brittle, his jaw clenched so tightly beneath the porcelain mask it’s a wonder his teeth don’t crack. He looks, frankly, like hell. Not in the usual dramatic way he enjoys—no artful aloofness, no deliberate dishevelment—but like if he lets go for even a second, he might vomit or disappear into mist.
He opens his mouth to respond, some sharp little blade of sarcasm already half-formed on his tongue—but nothing comes out. The words fall short, swallowed by the static gnawing at the base of his skull, and for a moment all he can do is breathe, or try to.
Then, slowly, he shifts his gaze and picks the first mind he can feel. It’s a young woman at the table beside them, fingers curling delicately around a flute of fruit punch as she lowers the edge of her cloak to show off her cleavage with what she clearly thinks is subtlety. Her thoughts are glittery and crude, all candy-pink fantasy with someone called Aaron’s hands on her waist, if she could just get the timing right. It helps a little, ike throwing a thread across a storm and pretending it’s a lifeline. His shoulders drop half an inch, the throb behind his eyes easing from a knife to a dull pressure. The masquerade doesn’t stop spinning, but the carousel slows just enough for him to catch the rhythm again.
When he finally glances at Jack, it’s not with a smirk or a quip, but with something closer to a plea. Barely there, but unmistakable—a flash of rawness in the cold blue of his eyes, a sliver of white-knuckled panic beneath all that elegant self-control. Like he’s hanging on by fingertips and expecting the edge to crumble.
"I hate this party," he mutters, voice hoarse with restraint.
wake me when it's over like a bad dream
☆ 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.
