VESPER
Three men fall in under a minute. It should’ve been a bloodbath—a mess of flailing limbs, missed blows, tangled footwork in the slick tidewater underfoot—but instead, it’s precise. Merciless. Beautiful in the way lightning is beautiful: fast, blinding, and over before you know you’re burning, and Vesper watches it all through Thalassa's flickering thoughts.
He feels the violence burst like fireworks down the corridor, every thought a scream before the throat has time to catch up. Their fear spikes too late. Their plans scatter like shattered glass. Thal’s presence—chaotic, hungry, laced with unspent grief—cuts through their minds like a knife through taut string. There’s only one survivor. And he runs.
Not with purpose, not even with strategy, just wild, panicked flight toward the tunnels, wheezing half-sobs as his boots slip over moss-slick stone. He doesn’t see Vesper waiting at the bend because of the how dark it is, but Vesper’s already felt him coming.
The man barrels forward and is met with a wall of shadows.
They rise like ink made solid, wrapping tight around his throat, pinning his arms back with a violent snap. He chokes. Gags. His eyes bulge wide as he tries to twist away, but Vesper doesn’t flinch. Just lifts his chin slightly, the motion slow and disdainful. "Tsk," he says softly, almost like a reprimand to a misbehaving dog.
The shadows drag the man back down the tunnel. He doesn’t walk so much as get hauled; stumbling and choking, boots scraping grooves into the rock as Vesper follows at a leisurely pace, fingers loose at his sides. Back in the alcove, the light flickers gold against wet stone. Blood pools like brine. Three bodies lie where Thal left them; slack, emptied, steaming faintly in the firelight. She’s a silhouette among the ruin, wild and glowing and furious, a storm barely contained.
Vesper steps through the threshold with all the serenity of someone completely untouched by the carnage. The fourth man flails once in the grip of the shadows before Vesper gives a lazy twist of his wrist and tightens the coil around his ribs. He glances at Thalassa, cool and unreadable. Then his gaze drops to the man gasping at the end of the leash. "I think," Vesper says, tone casual as a flicked card, "you owe the lady an apology."
He feels the violence burst like fireworks down the corridor, every thought a scream before the throat has time to catch up. Their fear spikes too late. Their plans scatter like shattered glass. Thal’s presence—chaotic, hungry, laced with unspent grief—cuts through their minds like a knife through taut string. There’s only one survivor. And he runs.
Not with purpose, not even with strategy, just wild, panicked flight toward the tunnels, wheezing half-sobs as his boots slip over moss-slick stone. He doesn’t see Vesper waiting at the bend because of the how dark it is, but Vesper’s already felt him coming.
The man barrels forward and is met with a wall of shadows.
They rise like ink made solid, wrapping tight around his throat, pinning his arms back with a violent snap. He chokes. Gags. His eyes bulge wide as he tries to twist away, but Vesper doesn’t flinch. Just lifts his chin slightly, the motion slow and disdainful. "Tsk," he says softly, almost like a reprimand to a misbehaving dog.
The shadows drag the man back down the tunnel. He doesn’t walk so much as get hauled; stumbling and choking, boots scraping grooves into the rock as Vesper follows at a leisurely pace, fingers loose at his sides. Back in the alcove, the light flickers gold against wet stone. Blood pools like brine. Three bodies lie where Thal left them; slack, emptied, steaming faintly in the firelight. She’s a silhouette among the ruin, wild and glowing and furious, a storm barely contained.
Vesper steps through the threshold with all the serenity of someone completely untouched by the carnage. The fourth man flails once in the grip of the shadows before Vesper gives a lazy twist of his wrist and tightens the coil around his ribs. He glances at Thalassa, cool and unreadable. Then his gaze drops to the man gasping at the end of the leash. "I think," Vesper says, tone casual as a flicked card, "you owe the lady an apology."
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.
