VESPER
Vesper laughs, the sound low and unhurried, the corners of his mouth quirking into something wry. "Not in my lifetime she hasn't," he says, grinning. The small nod he gives is enough to accept the offered drink, eyes flicking to the bottle in Jack’s hands. If nothing else, he wants to see whether all the fuss and favours he’d spent getting it were worth it. His posture eases as he shifts his weight onto one foot, the dim lantern glow catching faint on the curve of his smirk.
When Jack gestures to the beams above, Vesper follows his gaze, head tilting as if he can already see the space alive. "Could get real fancy," he muses, "have magic windows lookin’ out at the sea. That way no one’s caught unaware while they’re down here drownin’ themselves in liquor. Nova can make that sort of shit now, by the way." His words are easy, but behind the casual slouch, his mind’s already marking out every boundary Jack points to; mental lines drawn with the same precision the captain uses to chart coasts.
A soft snort follows, eyes cutting back to Jack with dry amusement. "Ain’t even criminals apparently. Word goin’ ’round Torchline says the queen’s turnin’ it into some kind of publicity stunt, pretendin’ she burned it down herself so she can build somethin’ shiny on the ashes." He sneers quietly at that.
Running a hand through his pale hair and where he does the strands darken as he shifts to lean against a crate nearby, posture loose, long lines folded comfortably into the ship’s sway. "Been thinkin’ of it," he admits at last, voice quieter, steadier. "Apparently King’s End ain’t big enough for me to move in to without rufflin’ feathers."
When Jack gestures to the beams above, Vesper follows his gaze, head tilting as if he can already see the space alive. "Could get real fancy," he muses, "have magic windows lookin’ out at the sea. That way no one’s caught unaware while they’re down here drownin’ themselves in liquor. Nova can make that sort of shit now, by the way." His words are easy, but behind the casual slouch, his mind’s already marking out every boundary Jack points to; mental lines drawn with the same precision the captain uses to chart coasts.
A soft snort follows, eyes cutting back to Jack with dry amusement. "Ain’t even criminals apparently. Word goin’ ’round Torchline says the queen’s turnin’ it into some kind of publicity stunt, pretendin’ she burned it down herself so she can build somethin’ shiny on the ashes." He sneers quietly at that.
Running a hand through his pale hair and where he does the strands darken as he shifts to lean against a crate nearby, posture loose, long lines folded comfortably into the ship’s sway. "Been thinkin’ of it," he admits at last, voice quieter, steadier. "Apparently King’s End ain’t big enough for me to move in to without rufflin’ feathers."
And it's all my fault that I'm still the one you want
So what are you after? Some kind of disaster?
So what are you after? Some kind of disaster?
☆ 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.
