VESPER
Vesper considers with a slow tilt of his head, the kind that suggests he’s turning the idea over from every angle, weighing its shape and its shadow. The candlelight gilds the contours of his face in soft gold, but his eyes stay cool, assessing. "Be that as it may," he murmurs, voice low and thoughtful, "I’m surprised even she can get away with toyin’ around Mort's gates." It isn’t doubt, more a quiet acknowledgement of the rules most gods pretend to obey. Dygra, apparently, isn’t the sort who bothers with pretending.
Danta’s grin flares sharp enough to taste before he even speaks, the man’s thoughts spilling colour and implication long before his mouth confirms them. Vesper almost smiles at that, a subtle curve tugging at the corner of his lips as he hears the list spoken aloud exactly as he expected: experimenting, interrogations, dispute-settling, very rough sex. Nothing in it surprises him; the Maverick wears his appetites openly, every thought textured and hot with confidence.
Vesper begins to ask, his tone dry, amused, genuinely curious. "And in all that, are you usually the one givin’ or the one ta—" When a sudden, sharp pull seizes the core of him—clean, familiar, divine—and the shadows at his feet recoil like startled birds. His breath stutters once, the world tilting in on itself like someone has yanked the thread he’s anchored to.
There’s no flash of light, no dramatic flare; one moment he’s standing in the Rage Room, half-turned toward Danta and the next he's gone.
Danta’s grin flares sharp enough to taste before he even speaks, the man’s thoughts spilling colour and implication long before his mouth confirms them. Vesper almost smiles at that, a subtle curve tugging at the corner of his lips as he hears the list spoken aloud exactly as he expected: experimenting, interrogations, dispute-settling, very rough sex. Nothing in it surprises him; the Maverick wears his appetites openly, every thought textured and hot with confidence.
Vesper begins to ask, his tone dry, amused, genuinely curious. "And in all that, are you usually the one givin’ or the one ta—" When a sudden, sharp pull seizes the core of him—clean, familiar, divine—and the shadows at his feet recoil like startled birds. His breath stutters once, the world tilting in on itself like someone has yanked the thread he’s anchored to.
There’s no flash of light, no dramatic flare; one moment he’s standing in the Rage Room, half-turned toward Danta and the next he's gone.
wake me when it's over
like a bad dream
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.
