if you try and chase the sun you're never gonna catch it
The Greatwood has a way of deciding meetings long before anyone else does, its paths tightening and loosening with quiet intent until coincidence feels like a courtesy rather than an accident. Vesper has learned not to fight it. He stands within the Mathair’s oppressive shadow, heat clinging to him like a second skin, the ancient trunk rising close enough that the air tastes green and ironed with sap.
The chambray shirt he wears clings damply across his shoulders, mostly unbuttoned in surrender to LongHeat, sleeves pushed back to his elbows. His hair is combed away from his face, neat enough to look deliberate, though the tension riding his posture gives the lie to any illusion of ease. It sits between his shoulders like a hand that hasn’t decided whether it means to steady or shove.
Vesper does not turn at the sound of someone else forcing their way through the undergrowth. Some presences announce themselves long before footsteps catch up, and this one arrives with the familiar absence he has learned to recognize; a strange quiet where noise should live, a hollow where thoughts usually press and crowd. It is not unsettling so much as distinct, a negative space shaped exactly like one man. The young demigod angles his head at last, slow and unhurried, pale eyes settling on the figure cutting through the green with sweat and irritation written plainly across him.
"Lookin' for somethin'?"
The chambray shirt he wears clings damply across his shoulders, mostly unbuttoned in surrender to LongHeat, sleeves pushed back to his elbows. His hair is combed away from his face, neat enough to look deliberate, though the tension riding his posture gives the lie to any illusion of ease. It sits between his shoulders like a hand that hasn’t decided whether it means to steady or shove.
Vesper does not turn at the sound of someone else forcing their way through the undergrowth. Some presences announce themselves long before footsteps catch up, and this one arrives with the familiar absence he has learned to recognize; a strange quiet where noise should live, a hollow where thoughts usually press and crowd. It is not unsettling so much as distinct, a negative space shaped exactly like one man. The young demigod angles his head at last, slow and unhurried, pale eyes settling on the figure cutting through the green with sweat and irritation written plainly across him.
"Lookin' for somethin'?"
And now it's turning out to be the worst of my bad habits
☆ 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.
