a cold shoulder at closin' time
Vesper steps lightly along the dock boards, the quiet hush of the Castaway Exchange broken only by the soft creak of tethered wreckage and the far-off lap of black water against half-drowned hulls. The fog curls low and spectral around his boots, ghosting over the marketplace like breath over glass.
He wears a high-collared sweater beneath a sleek jacket, the layers neat and deliberate without being fussy. Warm enough to endure the chill, trim enough not to restrict movement—practical, if not exactly welcoming. The only hint of complaint lies in the slow, silent flick of a playing card between his fingers. A queen of spades, shifting from knuckle to knuckle like a restless thought he refuses to voice.
The fog parts just enough for him to spot the familiar tilt of Jack’s coat near the flame-seller’s barge. No words pass between them at first. Instead, Vesper lifts his chin slightly, the card still moving in steady rhythm, and lets the edge of his mind unspool just enough to touch. Not a knock. Not a probe. Just a brush of cool silk along the captain’s mental defences; a greeting in the native tongue they rarely speak. He knows better than to expect Jack to answer in kind. But acknowledgment? That’s the game they play.
He wears a high-collared sweater beneath a sleek jacket, the layers neat and deliberate without being fussy. Warm enough to endure the chill, trim enough not to restrict movement—practical, if not exactly welcoming. The only hint of complaint lies in the slow, silent flick of a playing card between his fingers. A queen of spades, shifting from knuckle to knuckle like a restless thought he refuses to voice.
The fog parts just enough for him to spot the familiar tilt of Jack’s coat near the flame-seller’s barge. No words pass between them at first. Instead, Vesper lifts his chin slightly, the card still moving in steady rhythm, and lets the edge of his mind unspool just enough to touch. Not a knock. Not a probe. Just a brush of cool silk along the captain’s mental defences; a greeting in the native tongue they rarely speak. He knows better than to expect Jack to answer in kind. But acknowledgment? That’s the game they play.
you were beggin' me to stay 'til the sun rose
☆ 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.
