VESPER
Vesper squints at his sister when Nova suggests shrinking him, the look exaggerated enough to be theatrical rather than offended, his mouth pulling into a crooked line that says he is pretending to take the insult far more seriously than he actually does. "Shrink me down?" he echoes dryly, brows knitting in mock offence.
The moment she insists on windows, though, he relents with an easy nod, the corner of his mouth softening despite himself. The image of sunlight spilling through tall panes into some improbable woodland house lingers faintly in the back of his mind, buoyed by the steady brightness of Nova’s conviction even if he isn’t quite ready to believe in it yet.
When she lifts her hand and lets her magic unwind into existence, he cannot help the quiet laugh that escapes him under his breath. Of course it would look like that. He had not expected anything else, and yet the sheer enthusiasm of the result—rainbow ribbon gleaming, glitter scattered along the casing like a tiny carnival—still manages to catch him off guard. He takes the tape from her with a raised brow, turning it over once in his fingers as if examining a rare artifact rather than a conjured measuring tool.
"Mm," he hums lightly, as though considering a question of great complexity. Then, without warning, he steps on the end of the tape on the muddy bank beside her and lifts the strip upward, measuring the line of her height with careful, exaggerated attention. The rainbow ribbon glides upward past her shoulder, past her curls, until he pinches it neatly above her head. "It’s," he declares with quiet gravity. The tape retracts a little as he steps closer, looping it around her waist with the ease of someone guiding a partner through the opening step of a dance. The motion draws her nearer without quite trapping her there, the glittering ribbon brushing across the bright fabric of her skirt. "For," he adds. His hands move again, measuring across her shoulders this time, the tape stretching lightly from one side to the other as though Nova herself has become the blueprint. "A." He lets the strip fall slack at last, leaning forward just enough to give her nose a gentle, precise boop with his fingertip before handing the dazzling contraption back into her waiting hands.
"Surprise."
The moment she insists on windows, though, he relents with an easy nod, the corner of his mouth softening despite himself. The image of sunlight spilling through tall panes into some improbable woodland house lingers faintly in the back of his mind, buoyed by the steady brightness of Nova’s conviction even if he isn’t quite ready to believe in it yet.
When she lifts her hand and lets her magic unwind into existence, he cannot help the quiet laugh that escapes him under his breath. Of course it would look like that. He had not expected anything else, and yet the sheer enthusiasm of the result—rainbow ribbon gleaming, glitter scattered along the casing like a tiny carnival—still manages to catch him off guard. He takes the tape from her with a raised brow, turning it over once in his fingers as if examining a rare artifact rather than a conjured measuring tool.
"Mm," he hums lightly, as though considering a question of great complexity. Then, without warning, he steps on the end of the tape on the muddy bank beside her and lifts the strip upward, measuring the line of her height with careful, exaggerated attention. The rainbow ribbon glides upward past her shoulder, past her curls, until he pinches it neatly above her head. "It’s," he declares with quiet gravity. The tape retracts a little as he steps closer, looping it around her waist with the ease of someone guiding a partner through the opening step of a dance. The motion draws her nearer without quite trapping her there, the glittering ribbon brushing across the bright fabric of her skirt. "For," he adds. His hands move again, measuring across her shoulders this time, the tape stretching lightly from one side to the other as though Nova herself has become the blueprint. "A." He lets the strip fall slack at last, leaning forward just enough to give her nose a gentle, precise boop with his fingertip before handing the dazzling contraption back into her waiting hands.
"Surprise."
Will I ever quit playing with matches?
Why am I making angels in the ashes?
Why am I making angels in the ashes?
☆ 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.
