VESPER
Vesper nods at the mention of Murphy, something like relief flickering behind his eyes. Good. Murphy’s steady, grounded, and not easily distracted, and more than that, he’s not the type to let Nova’s sparkle or Caly’s warmth cloud his judgment. Vesper would trust him with his sisters a thousand times over before trusting the rest of this crowd with a glance.
Quietly, he unhooks the strap of his mask and slips it off, dragging the porcelain away and raking his fingers across his face. His temples throb faintly beneath the touch, his lashes heavy with exhaustion he hasn’t earned through motion, only noise. Noise and pressure and the godsdamn ache of trying.
"Doesn’t that make you feel..." he begins, then trails off, scrubbing at one eye before finishing, "...like you’re standin’ out there with your fingers in your ears?" The idea of flipping the wall inward, of softening the borders, sounds like opening the door and begging the storm to come in. He stares into the trees as if they might answer for him, eyes catching the flicker of lantern light beyond the branches.
How does everyone else do it? Just...wandering around without a fucking clue for how vulnerable they were at all times, with no failsafes, no early warning system, no way of seeing through the bullshit.
"I did want to see Colt," he admits, a little too offhandedly to be casual, but Jack's been around the rancher often enough that there's no way the captain hasn't picked up at least a bit of what's goin' on between them. He glances back toward the masquerade, then exhales through his nose, the sound worn thin. "But fuck, Jack. I dunno." He shifts the melting ice to the side, letting it cry down his neck. "I’m tired," Vesper says softly, and it’s not dramatic, not even resentful. Just the bare truth, said like someone who’s been running on high for too long without ever letting himself pause. His posture remains straight, too proud to sag, but his voice gives him away. He’s not sulking, he’s just worn out and though vulnerability isn't really a trait Jack has passed down to his kids, for once Vesper doesn't even bother to try and hide it.
Quietly, he unhooks the strap of his mask and slips it off, dragging the porcelain away and raking his fingers across his face. His temples throb faintly beneath the touch, his lashes heavy with exhaustion he hasn’t earned through motion, only noise. Noise and pressure and the godsdamn ache of trying.
"Doesn’t that make you feel..." he begins, then trails off, scrubbing at one eye before finishing, "...like you’re standin’ out there with your fingers in your ears?" The idea of flipping the wall inward, of softening the borders, sounds like opening the door and begging the storm to come in. He stares into the trees as if they might answer for him, eyes catching the flicker of lantern light beyond the branches.
How does everyone else do it? Just...wandering around without a fucking clue for how vulnerable they were at all times, with no failsafes, no early warning system, no way of seeing through the bullshit.
"I did want to see Colt," he admits, a little too offhandedly to be casual, but Jack's been around the rancher often enough that there's no way the captain hasn't picked up at least a bit of what's goin' on between them. He glances back toward the masquerade, then exhales through his nose, the sound worn thin. "But fuck, Jack. I dunno." He shifts the melting ice to the side, letting it cry down his neck. "I’m tired," Vesper says softly, and it’s not dramatic, not even resentful. Just the bare truth, said like someone who’s been running on high for too long without ever letting himself pause. His posture remains straight, too proud to sag, but his voice gives him away. He’s not sulking, he’s just worn out and though vulnerability isn't really a trait Jack has passed down to his kids, for once Vesper doesn't even bother to try and hide it.
Will I ever quit playing with matches?
Why am I making angels in the ashes?
Why am I making angels in the ashes?
☆ 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.
