VESPER
Nova’s light burns brighter against him the farther they drift from the crowd, her sparkles catching and refracting against the inky backdrop of his shadows until the contrast feels almost intentional, like night designed purely to make stars stand out. Vesper glances down at her once, the corner of his mouth tugging upward in something fond before he answers her along that shared thread.
North, he confirms simply, the thought steady and unembellished. A beat later—less guarded, more conversational—The Grounds were...fine. The word lands neutral, neither praise nor dismissal, and he shrugs lightly as if it might have gone either way. His gaze shifts ahead, toward the green-hazed edge of the oasis where desert gives way to something wilder, more alive. I was thinkin' about headin' into the Greatwood next.
He risks a smile then, one meant for her alone, softer around the edges though it never quite reaches his eyes. Ain’t had a leader in years, he adds, tone almost speculative. An’ who knows, maybe we could take it over. The idea is half-tease, half-provocation, floated lightly enough that it doesn’t yet ask for belief, only curiosity, just as it had with Jack.
When Nova presses him about time, the ease slips away; not sharply, but cleanly, like a blade sheathed after being drawn. His expression smooths back into something composed, deliberate, the polish he wears when he doesn’t want anyone to see the seams. Vesper gives a small, honest shake of his head. I don’t know, he admits, mental voice low and unhurried. With the way things are...I ain’t sure I can come back to King’s End anytime soon. His arm remains settled around her shoulders, grounding even as the words carry distance with them.
He doesn’t say Colt’s name at first, probably doesn’t have to, but he does anyway, because Nova deserves clarity, not shadows. Things with Colt went real bad. There’s no venom in it, no self-pity, just fact. And I think it’s best if I stay away for a while. The admission hangs between them, heavy but controlled, and Vesper doesn’t rush to soften it or walk it back. He keeps his stride easy, his arm steady, trusting Nova to feel the truth of it without needing him to spell out every fracture underneath. It had been Colt's home first, and, like Jack had done, sometimes it was easier to just fuckin' leave.
North, he confirms simply, the thought steady and unembellished. A beat later—less guarded, more conversational—The Grounds were...fine. The word lands neutral, neither praise nor dismissal, and he shrugs lightly as if it might have gone either way. His gaze shifts ahead, toward the green-hazed edge of the oasis where desert gives way to something wilder, more alive. I was thinkin' about headin' into the Greatwood next.
He risks a smile then, one meant for her alone, softer around the edges though it never quite reaches his eyes. Ain’t had a leader in years, he adds, tone almost speculative. An’ who knows, maybe we could take it over. The idea is half-tease, half-provocation, floated lightly enough that it doesn’t yet ask for belief, only curiosity, just as it had with Jack.
When Nova presses him about time, the ease slips away; not sharply, but cleanly, like a blade sheathed after being drawn. His expression smooths back into something composed, deliberate, the polish he wears when he doesn’t want anyone to see the seams. Vesper gives a small, honest shake of his head. I don’t know, he admits, mental voice low and unhurried. With the way things are...I ain’t sure I can come back to King’s End anytime soon. His arm remains settled around her shoulders, grounding even as the words carry distance with them.
He doesn’t say Colt’s name at first, probably doesn’t have to, but he does anyway, because Nova deserves clarity, not shadows. Things with Colt went real bad. There’s no venom in it, no self-pity, just fact. And I think it’s best if I stay away for a while. The admission hangs between them, heavy but controlled, and Vesper doesn’t rush to soften it or walk it back. He keeps his stride easy, his arm steady, trusting Nova to feel the truth of it without needing him to spell out every fracture underneath. It had been Colt's home first, and, like Jack had done, sometimes it was easier to just fuckin' leave.
And I'm going down, where the waves will surround
to the roar and the pound, Of the wild wild sea
Talking sweet to me
to the roar and the pound, Of the wild wild sea
Talking sweet to me
☆ 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.
