VESPER
Vesper’s nod is slow, more thoughtful than anything else, his questions never really for himself so much as for Nova and Caly, who would gnaw on the whys and hows until they drove him mad. Clarification’s worth something, though, and he lets the words settle before tipping his chin in agreement. "Reckon I’d be an idiot not to take it, then," he says at last, the admission carried out on a breath that fogs faintly in the cooler night air. "Thanks."
His gaze lingers on the way fire and ice coil so easily at Jack’s hand, bending to will like sand into glass. He’s only ever seen the captain with that kind of command, and the knowledge that even so the Ark had caught flame tells him more about the gravity of it than any whispered rumour could. Blue eyes flicker back to the castle of crystal, its sharp edges glittering with borrowed starlight, and he doesn’t doubt for a moment Jack’ll carve himself another empire out east. And Vesper, for all his distaste for change, makes that crossing often enough he knows this won’t be goodbye in the true sense.
Even so, his chest feels heavier than he likes, and the weight of words he doesn’t speak—platitudes, apologies, questions he’s not built to ask—gathers like silt in his throat. He exhales instead, long and low, shoulders folding in against the sudden shift he has no power to slow. "Torchline won’t be the same without you," he murmurs finally, simple as he can make it, because it’s all that’ll come.
His gaze lingers on the way fire and ice coil so easily at Jack’s hand, bending to will like sand into glass. He’s only ever seen the captain with that kind of command, and the knowledge that even so the Ark had caught flame tells him more about the gravity of it than any whispered rumour could. Blue eyes flicker back to the castle of crystal, its sharp edges glittering with borrowed starlight, and he doesn’t doubt for a moment Jack’ll carve himself another empire out east. And Vesper, for all his distaste for change, makes that crossing often enough he knows this won’t be goodbye in the true sense.
Even so, his chest feels heavier than he likes, and the weight of words he doesn’t speak—platitudes, apologies, questions he’s not built to ask—gathers like silt in his throat. He exhales instead, long and low, shoulders folding in against the sudden shift he has no power to slow. "Torchline won’t be the same without you," he murmurs finally, simple as he can make it, because it’s all that’ll come.
Push, shove, a little bruised and battered
oh lord, I ain't coming home with you
oh lord, I ain't coming home with you
☆ 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.
