[Training] Made you look!

Humming in the brief moment of silence, Nova springs forward towards the entrance to the labyrinthine garden. She's dressed for the scenery, her thick sweater covered in colorful yarn flowers. The cold hadn't been enough to stop her from showing it off, two layers of sparkling long sleeves piled beneath to fight off the chill, a dense pair of pink flannel leggings protecting her legs. It's a stark contrast to the white snow behind her when she turns to beam at Vesper. "Now that I can make stuff, you'll have to tell me what kind of fun items you want!" Otherwise, threats of bright colored, glitter-covered clothes pass through her mind, imbued with the oddest of magics: always smelling good, not needing to wear sunglasses, bath water always being the perfect temperature, always knowing what he wants to eat, etc. She thinks she could come up with some pretty fun concepts, but she doubts they're anything he would like. 

"Maybe I'll make Jeff a hat so people don't try to squish him." She raises the spider out in her hands and tilts her head, squinting one eye closed as her magic takes shape above him. First it's a bright pink party hat then a neon orange beanie then a glittery ball cap then a very dapper top hat that has her grinning. "You're going to win over King's End in no time." Maybe she's talking to Jeff, maybe she's talking to herself - either way, she pats him gently on the head, her finger slipping through the illusion to the soft fuzz of his head.

Nova

It's so fluffy I could die!

come real quick & get inside my mind

Bundled far more sensibly than his sister, Vesper’s coat is buttoned high against his throat, dark wool dusted with frost, collar turned up to hide the lazy curve of a grin. His gloves creak faintly when he slips his hands into his pockets, boots crunching over the snow as he trails a few steps behind her. The maze looms ahead—roses black with winter, thorns catching stray glimmers of light—and her thoughts flit bright and warm against the chill, their colours spilling into his mind like ribbons.

He snickers under his breath, the sound soft enough that it might have been stolen by the wind. "Wouldn’t say no to a flask that always stayed full," he drawls, the suggestion unhurried, eyes glinting as if already picturing it. "Of whatever you pour in last."

When the tiny hats begin to shimmer over Jeff’s head, Vesper chuckles outright, the low sound carrying easily between them. "You plannin’ to give him a whole wardrobe now?" His tone is teasing, but there’s affection woven through it, the kind he rarely bothers to voice directly to anyone who isn't family.

As the spider wiggles beneath the parade of conjured accessories, Vesper lets his gaze linger a moment before flicking back to his sister. "How’s he handlin' the move?" he asks, casual enough to pass for idle talk, but his brow lifts just slightly—subtle, deliberate—because he isn't really asking about the spider.

Rolling her eyes, the blue glitters like a miniature galaxy full of her amusement and enthusiasm. "That's boooooring, and way too easy. You'll have to come up with something more challenging than that!" She's picturing something big and exciting that somehow embodies 'Vesper', like a pair of black boots that melt into shadows or a ring that blasts stupid people or maybe a t-shirt with her and Caly on it (There's no magic. It's just a t-shirt.). Whatever it is, she'll make it, adding her own signature to it. 

For now, she giggles as he admires her options for Jeff's hat, jutting out her chin as she looks at him. "Of course! He's going to be the most fashionable spider there is!" The top hat takes physical form, settling lightly on the fuzzy head. Jeff blinks up at her before shivering lightly. Pouting her lips, Nova pulls him closer to her chest, letting him nuzzle against one of the flowers for warmth. 

"He's doing fine, but I don't think he likes the cold. He's never lived anywhere but Torchline." Whether they're still talking about the spider or not, Nova shrugs her shoulders, a lightness there that suggests it's not something she thinks much about. She smiles up at Vesper, confidence and ever-present optimism making it bright. "But he'll get used to it, as long as we stay together."

Nova

It's so fluffy I could die!

come real quick & get inside my mind

Vesper exhales a soft laugh, the kind that slips through his teeth like smoke, eyes narrowing in mock patience as he rolls them toward the silvering sky. "Alright, fine," he concedes, drawl thick with amusement. "How about a perfect body double, then? One that gets up early, does my chores on the Ark, an’ lets me sleep in." The smirk that follows is lazy and knowing, a quiet tilt of his mouth that says he’s perfectly aware she’ll find some way to ruin that wish with glitter.

Her thoughts are bright enough to brush against his own like a warm tide, the edges of them threaded through with affection, stubborn optimism, and the faint ache she’ll never quite admit. He doesn’t push, just listens, lets it hum in the back of his mind while his gaze flicks from her to the spider tucked against her sweater. 

With a sigh that fogs the cold air, he shifts his weight and glances toward the hedges, noting how a few seem to breathe and slide closer, reshaping the path as they speak. "How d’you think Cal’s handling it?" he asks, tone quiet, neither soft nor prying, just curious. His gloved hand lifts briefly, idly brushing frost from a thorned branch as if testing the maze’s mood.

Then, after a beat, his attention slides back to her, something lighter edging the corners of his expression. "So," he says, the word stretched out into the space between them, "you got any fancy new abilities you’re dyin’ t’show off?" One brow arches, the glint in his eye unmistakable. "If not, I was wonderin’ if you’d lend those illusions of yours to help me practice a bit."

A body double? Nova hasn't tested her limits much, but she's fairly certain she can't make people (beyond the usual method), so she assumes he's just picking something impossible to tease her. Rolling her eyes, she lets out a huff of breath. "Fiiiiine. Flask it is." Tilting her head, she plays with a catalogue of ideas in her mind, picturing size, shape, color, and style. She throws in a few bright pink and glittered filigree options just to mess with Vesper before she settles on something more him. The magics flex and coax in her twisting hands, silver coiling into existence before threading into elegant strands that fold and merge into something solid. The remaining portions weave into the metallic form, pressing in with abstract whorls and lines like starry ocean water engraved in black and silver. In a few final touches, the cap takes form, Vesper's name appearing discretely on the bottom just as she's moving to hand him the pocket-sized flask. 

She raises her head like it's no big deal, but the shimmering pride flooding her face and mind give her away. "Here. But give me something harder next time or I won't make you anything." Her tongue sticks out at him, all affection and playful sibling annoyance, even if she threatens mentally to only make stuff for her and Caly. 

Speaking of, his quiet question has her smile softening, not quite dimming but contemplating in a way she doesn't do often. It's lined with a worry that never seems to go with her outfit, but one she's willing to wear for her sister. "She doesn't talk about it much, but I think she likes it more than Torchline." Caly doesn't seem happy, but Nova sees her smile more, sees the brightness returning now that the shadows aren't haunting her, and that's enough for now. 

Kicking a clump of snow, Nova shrugs her shoulders and adds the bounce back into her step. "I still think we need a trip back h- to Torchline just to torture them a bit. I bet I could give them some nightmares in my dreambird shift." The sharpness of her grin is a special kind of mischief, determined to bury her sister's sadness (and maybe the man who caused it). She doubts it would be that hard. 

Happy to leave depressing thoughts behind, she reaches up to tap a leaf, freeing it of the burden of snow so that it falls around her and Jeff burrowed in her yarn. She's not paying attention to the sentient shift of the maze, letting Vesper deal with that as she grins at him. "Nothing new, but my fire got stronger!" A fire blooms over her finger like a lighter when she points it at him, ready to demonstrate before he's requesting her illusions. 

Nova blinks, tapping her fingers together to put out the flame as she asks excitedly, "Like target practice?"

Nova

It's so fluffy I could die!

come real quick & get inside my mind

Her thoughts spill through like a string of bright beads—half-pride, half-mischief, the small worry for Caly tucked behind them like a secret note—and he lets them wash over him with that lazy, indulgent attention he saves for family. He hears the glitter in her head the way one hears bells in a pocket; it’s ridiculous and loud and somehow exactly Nova, and he smiles without meaning to.

When she finishes, the silver threads of her magic coil and the flask blooms into being, small and perfect in her hands. Vesper’s brows lift; the flask is finer than he expected, black lacquered to a shine with the little filigree she loved and his name tucked on the base like a private joke. He reaches for it with long-fingered, careful hands, thumb catching the cap. "Impressive," he says, the word flat but warm; approval that tastes like admitting defeat in a game he’s been winning for years.

He eyes her as he turns the flask over, then quirks one brow. "Is there a catch?" he asks, deadpan. "Like, everything that comes out is gonna have glitter in it?" When she looks up at him, flushed with the glow of success, he loops a lanky arm around her shoulders and tugs her close. The motion is easy, habitual: a brother’s claim and a warding. He leans down and presses the tip of his mouth to the crown of her head in a quick, almost ridiculous kiss on top of the riot of colours and yarn. It’s showy in the best way; it says you’re mine and you’re ridiculous and I will defend you to anyone who says otherwise.

He goes quiet for a breath, listening to the maze breathe around them, then nods at what she said about Caly. "King’s End does have its charms," he murmurs, the corners of his mouth tilting. "Even more so when it isn’t buried in all this fucking snow." There’s a half-laugh threaded through it; frost or not, it's better being here, all together. "For sure we should go back, especially now Flora’s apparently takin’ credit for burnin’ the bar down. I'd love to see how that story’s sellin’ " He lets the wickedness of the idea settle between them like a shared smoke, wicked and bright. "Besides, word on the street is that she's got herself a haunted house. Who's to say it won't get a little bit scarier?"

Vesper's gaze drops to the tiny flame Noiva conjures on a fingertip and he rolls his eyes with fondness. "Yeah, of course it is." He ruffles the hair at his temple, fingers worrying at a silver ring until it produces the familiar comfort of motion. Then his tone folds into something practical, edge softening into purpose. "Sorta. I want to learn t’use my telepathy more like...a tool. Not just hearin’ people, but findin' and hittin' things." He shrugs, the implication of it all clear in that he couldn't really practice with anyone but his sisters.

He considers her a beat—the maze shifting, hedges twitching as if to listen—then lets a plan out like a test. "You could make it look like you're invisible and I could try and find you. Or you could make a couple copies of yourself and I'd pick out the real one." His mouth quirks; the dare is there, wrapped in the easy dare of a brother who wants to be better.

Leaning into the affection like the brightest dusting of glitter, Nova shrugs her shoulders. "Not unless you put glitter in it, then you might never get it out." There's a dangerous glint in her eyes that might be Don't tempt me or You'll just have to find out.

Her eyes were suddenly bulging, pulling away to look incredulously at the announcement, letting it distract her from depressing topics and the overwhelming amount of change. "Seriously? Why would she do that?" And why would anyone believe her when Nova had made sure there was plenty of sparkles in her molotovs? It just seems stupid, to own up to something she didn't even do.

His idea sparks between them into a smolder of building trouble. "Oooh. Think we can convince a mean spirit to move in? Maybe infect her house with rats or bugs? Or put some skeletons in her basement?" Now she's giggling, schemes and plots running through her mind, figuring that anything targeting Flora will hit Kaisel in the process. Maybe a bit of shrapnel would be better. Just blow the place to smithereens and let them pick up the pieces. 

Vesper doesn't have to hide the smile any more than the desire for self-improvement, even if she's quite certain he could beat anyone and everyone. It's why she doesn't even blink at the request, immediately guiding her thoughts and intentions to the illusions and his goals. A small bounce accompanies her agreement, a pulse of shining lights falling around her like starlight when she chirps, "Okay!" She spins on her heels, ready to begin before thinking better of it, facing her brother with the clear instructions of, "Close your eyes and count to ten!"

When Vesper opens his eyes, Nova will have made three duplicates of herself, standing amongst them to make four perfect replicas of her flowered form. They're identical from the golden tips of her hair to the fuzzy boots to the tiny black Jeff peeking from where he's bundled into her flowered sweater. Each one grins, a shimmer rippling through them all to make it harder to tell which one might be her, a challenge clear in her eyes and broadcasted through her thoughts. 

---

1/4

Nova

It's so fluffy I could die!

come real quick & get inside my mind

Vesper lifts his brows, hands raised in a silent gesture of surrender, wouldn’t dream of it. The grin that tugs at his mouth says otherwise, but he lets her have the victory.

"Probably to save face," he says when the subject turns to Torchline’s queen, his tone mild but edged. "Though with the three of us leavin' right after, that story’s already got holes big enough t’ sail the Ark through." He shrugs, the motion lazy, as if the whole thing is too absurd to take seriously. "Maybe you can make yourself an invisibility cloak, haunt her personally. Real hands-on approach."

Her delight ripples through his head before he even closes his eyes before drawing in a slow breath, and starting to count out loud—"One...two...three..."—obnoxiously clear and deliberate, dragging it out for her benefit. By the time he hits ten, the cold air hums with her magic, and when he opens his eyes, there are four Novas waiting, grinning like a chorus of trouble.

He whistles softly under his breath, more impressed than he lets on. The duplicates shimmer just enough to make his senses stutter. He doesn’t move closer; instead, shadows begin to creep from his boots, stretching across the ground in fine, searching tendrils that test the light around each version of her. The farthest one is dead silent—easy enough to rule out—but the remaining three feel nearly identical, bright and warm and glitter-loud in his head as the real Nova's thoughts radiate outward.

Narrowing his eyes, he tilts his head and says, "Glitter is the worst," with the kind of smooth confidence meant to provoke a reaction in Nova's mind that will help him pinpoint where her thoughts are coming from. With a sharp grin, he lets his shadows streak forward, sweeping through the three he judges are illusion.

---

1/4

If Vesper isn't worried then she's not worried - not like she was before anyways - his quiet dismissal giving her the confidence to let Flora play whatever pointless game she's making up. It's much more fun to think of sneaking around her house, tipping over potted plants, mixing up her underwear drawers, and stealing all the utensils. She's giggling by the end, her head nodding to confirm the plans that begin to form in her mind. "Oooh. I like that, but maybe something a little more stylish." A cute pair of shoes? Or an earring? Cloaks can be so drab and shapeless. 

Content to sketch out some ideas later, Nova jumps straight into helping her brother with his fancy mental magic. She stands ready for his assessment when he has the audacity to say, 'Glitter is the worst.'. He doesn't just get a mental response, but a verbal one, her mouth snapping open in an indignant gasp while her duplicates forget to copy. She knows that's what he wants, but it doesn't make his words any less abhorrent. Ignoring the shadows that rip apart her illusions, she throws a barrage of magical snowballs at him from every direction, voice chiming with playful demand. "Take that back!"

---

2/4

Nova

It's so fluffy I could die!

come real quick & get inside my mind

Nova's thoughts spill through his mind like a kaleidoscope; quick, bright, and loud with mischief. Each image flashes sharp and vivid: overturned flowerpots, tangled lingerie drawers, Flora’s growing outrage while Nova tiptoes away glittering like divine retribution. He can’t help the quiet grin that slips across his face, teeth flashing in the low winter light. "That’s a much better idea," he murmurs, amusement roughening his voice. Then, tipping his head and tapping one gloved finger against the bridge of his nose, he adds, "Maybe y'could get yourself another piercing." No point in being able to be invisible and only have the ability depending on what outfit you wore.

Her thoughts stutter mid-spark, a crackle of affront before her mouth follows suit, and he knows he’s landed the hit before the first snowball flies. The barrage erupts without warning, a storm of white and laughter. He’s still half-laughing when his shield flickers into being—starlight blooming between them—just in time to catch a single, satisfyingly solid snowball while the rest pass through harmlessly.

When the flurry fades, he lowers the shield with a flick of his wrist, a faint trail of frost clinging to its edges as it dissolves. His grin widens, shadow-soft and pleased, one brow arching as he looks at her. "Go on, then," he drawls, voice full of dry warmth. "Make me take it back."

---

2/4

Wow. It's almost like her brother can read her mind. Nova's sharing in his grin, hopping with the excitement of mischievous schemes and magical accessories that would go with all her outfits. "Exactly! Maybe I should make a tongue piercing." Teasing and very much kidding, her tongue pops out to point playfully at Vesper again, although her mind is still swimming with colorful ideas and concepts. 

But first: lessons must be learned. 

"You're on!" Nova's grin is pure trouble. The challenge has been laid, and she plans to smother him in glitter when she catches him (or paint his room in it later). Knowing he'll want to escape her sparkling assault with his shadowy teleportation, she starts her revenge plot by trying to pin the demigod in place. Her fingers wiggle playfully at her side, calling forth the magic humming in response. Ice, earth, and even a few flowery vines create a minefield around his feet, reaching and snagging at him to prevent any cunning escape. She adds in a few illusions of thorns and needle-sharp spikes of ice to make it look more menacing, each component whirling bright in her mind.

---

3/4

Nova

It's so fluffy I could die!

come real quick & get inside my mind

Vesper snickers, sharp and quiet, the sound low in his throat as she flashes her tongue at him. He lunges half-heartedly, snapping a gloved hand out as if to grab it—more a gesture than a threat—though the grin he flashes after suggests he might not be bluffing.

The amusement fades quick when the air around him changes. He feels it before he sees it: the hum of her magic swelling, the frost crawling up through the soles of his boots as vines and ice burst from the ground like living snares. "Here we go," he mutters, frown cutting through the grin as he hisses in a slow breath, shoulders squaring. The shadows that have been slinking lazily at his feet gather sharp in response, coiling tighter until the air itself seems to bend inward.

Then, with a flick of his wrist, he drives them down. Dark matter and shadow merge into something heavier, hungrier; tendrils slamming into the frozen earth with enough force to send cracks spiderwebbing through the ice. The impact throws frost and shards of vine aside, the sound a deep, resonant crack that rolls through the clearing.

He’s still half-smiling, though, the glint in his eyes caught somewhere between challenge and pride as he steadies himself again. "That was a good one," he says, voice low, and admiring despite himself. "Go on, gimme your best shot now."

---

3/4

Despite all her efforts and amazingness, Vesper manages an incredibly impressive feat. Shadows coalesce around him, sharpening into weapons that shred her attacks into harmless snowflakes and flower petals with all the weight of a lightning strike. It leaves her mouth wide open, more proud and impressed by her brother than upset that her magics have been deafeted, except for the burning question in her mind. 

How is she supposed to beat that?!

A pout puckers her lips, a million thoughts and ideas being created and discarded in seconds. There's no doubt that he's annoyingly stronger than her, but Nova is determined to win out in the end and she puts on her game face (furrowed brows with her tongue sticking out) when she summons the magics again. "I'll keep going until you say 'glitter is the best!'" Darkness rises around Vesper, a curtain of velvety black illusion to obscure his vision of her or her magic - the magic that is suddenly crashing in from all sides. 

It's mainly snowballs infused with glitter, but she throws in a few more vines that she guides from the hedges, encouraging them to wrap around his feet while he's distracted with the sparkly white orbs appearing from seemingly nowhere. All while she moves a little closer, preparing to tackle him just to smother him in a pile of glitter. 

---

4/4

Nova

It's so fluffy I could die!

come real quick & get inside my mind

Vesper laughs under his breath when Nova pouts, the sound half-apologetic and half-smug, his grin curving sharp against the cold air. "That one’s a demigod special," he says, voice soft with mock sympathy, like it’s supposed to console her when they both know it won’t. "Not exactly fair play, I’ll give you that."

Her challenge earns a quiet snort. "Is that so?" he drawls, shoulders squaring just as the light around him folds in on itself. Darkness spills from the hedges like ink, rising fast enough that he barely catches a glimpse of her before she disappears behind the illusion’s veil. It’s exactly what he’d been hoping for; clever, chaotic, and full of her. But even with his mind half-tuned to hers, the clutter of thought and glitter-slick determination makes it impossible to separate what’s real from what isn’t.

The first snowball hits him square in the chest. Then another. Then five. Cold sears through the wool of his coat, followed by the cling of glitter that seems to multiply every time he moves. The vines come next, slithering around his boots in a snare that yanks at his balance. He throws up his arms, drawing his shadows quick and close to blunt the worst of the onslaught, but it’s already too late; the air hums with light and cold, and there’s more shimmer on him than shadow now.

When he finally slips free, mist blooming around him in a rush of displaced air, it’s to reappear directly behind her, breath quick, hair dusted with snow and sparkle. "Not bad," he says lowly, still catching his breath, his tone the rough edge of laughter before preparing himself for her to round on him for another attack.

---

4/4