a cold shoulder at closin' time
Vesper doesn’t bother responding to Jack’s scoff, he can feel the shape of the sentiment well enough in the pause. It settles in the air like a half-formed smile: trust, dressed in sarcasm and hidden under frost, which is more than enough for him.
Turning toward the nearest wall, he letse the cool press of his shadows slip down beside him, lifting the scrolls like they weigh nothing. There’s care in the way he unrolls them, his hands barely touch the edges before the darkness unfurls across the corners, holding each parchment flat in the air with a slow, sinuous grace. Pins float up a moment later, each one guided by the same invisible thread, settling into place without bending a single page.
Vesper steps back as they go up, watching from a few feet off. One shadow adjusts the angle by a fraction, another straightens the edge until everything aligns. Perfectly.
Nova, meanwhile, is halfway into furnishing the entire Exchange with secret compartments and constellation-strewn rugs. He snorts softly, shadows holding a scroll mid-air while he glances over his shoulder at her. "You forgot the dramatic fireplace," he murmurs. "How else are we meant to burn the evidence?" Though he raises a brow at her, his tone lacks any real bite.
The last map settles into place, shadows sliding back down like ink draining from a brush. Vesper gives the wall a final, scrutinizing look. Perfectly straight. All of it.
Turning toward the nearest wall, he letse the cool press of his shadows slip down beside him, lifting the scrolls like they weigh nothing. There’s care in the way he unrolls them, his hands barely touch the edges before the darkness unfurls across the corners, holding each parchment flat in the air with a slow, sinuous grace. Pins float up a moment later, each one guided by the same invisible thread, settling into place without bending a single page.
Vesper steps back as they go up, watching from a few feet off. One shadow adjusts the angle by a fraction, another straightens the edge until everything aligns. Perfectly.
Nova, meanwhile, is halfway into furnishing the entire Exchange with secret compartments and constellation-strewn rugs. He snorts softly, shadows holding a scroll mid-air while he glances over his shoulder at her. "You forgot the dramatic fireplace," he murmurs. "How else are we meant to burn the evidence?" Though he raises a brow at her, his tone lacks any real bite.
The last map settles into place, shadows sliding back down like ink draining from a brush. Vesper gives the wall a final, scrutinizing look. Perfectly straight. All of it.
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.
