VESPER
Vesper prowls through the house with quiet thoroughness, paws silent against worn floorboards as he moves from room to room, cataloguing impressions the way he always does. The bedroom is exactly as expected; orderly, restrained, every surface placed with intention rather than comfort, nothing left where it might require bending or unnecessary strain. The bathroom follows suit, built around accommodation rather than indulgence, functional and immaculate in a way that speaks of long habit rather than recent injury. It tells him nothing surprising, and yet it tells him plenty.
The workshop is another matter entirely, cluttered to the point of defiance, tools and half-finished projects layered atop one another as if chaos itself has been given permission to breathe there. Vesper lingers longer than intended, tail flicking once as he takes it in, before his attention is drawn instead to the closed doors and the strange suggestion of stairs that lead both up and down. He noses at one briefly, then another, but without hands—without options—he files the information away for later and moves on.
By the time Niki settles himself in the living room, fire renewed and book in hand, Vesper is finishing up his circuit. He enters without ceremony, a black shadow slipping soundlessly into the warm glow of the hearth. For a long moment, he simply watches, assessing posture and placement, the way the necromancer’s leg is elevated and supported, the deliberate care taken even in rest. Then, instead of leaping where instinct (and pettiness) might suggest, he jumps onto the couch itself, the movement smooth and measured. From there, he steps forward and lowers himself directly onto Niki’s lap, tucking into a perfect loaf. His plush tail curls neatly around his legs, fur warm and impossibly soft, weight settling with unarguable confidence as though this, too, has always been his place.
The workshop is another matter entirely, cluttered to the point of defiance, tools and half-finished projects layered atop one another as if chaos itself has been given permission to breathe there. Vesper lingers longer than intended, tail flicking once as he takes it in, before his attention is drawn instead to the closed doors and the strange suggestion of stairs that lead both up and down. He noses at one briefly, then another, but without hands—without options—he files the information away for later and moves on.
By the time Niki settles himself in the living room, fire renewed and book in hand, Vesper is finishing up his circuit. He enters without ceremony, a black shadow slipping soundlessly into the warm glow of the hearth. For a long moment, he simply watches, assessing posture and placement, the way the necromancer’s leg is elevated and supported, the deliberate care taken even in rest. Then, instead of leaping where instinct (and pettiness) might suggest, he jumps onto the couch itself, the movement smooth and measured. From there, he steps forward and lowers himself directly onto Niki’s lap, tucking into a perfect loaf. His plush tail curls neatly around his legs, fur warm and impossibly soft, weight settling with unarguable confidence as though this, too, has always been his place.
rot gut whiskey's gonna ease your mind
but when the hell are you gonna ease mine?
but when the hell are you gonna ease mine?
☆ 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.
