Vivek Calaveri

Re:Vamp RP Blog

[justskipper]

The Courage of Stars.

Now that the weather was nicer and summer was in full swing, Skipper was trying to get out more. A little odd for a vampire, sure–pretty Sibyl of him–but he liked the sun! Sure it burned in more ways than one, but it’d be a lie to say he didn’t miss parts of his youth growing up in South and Central America where bright skies and warm water were abundantly found.

Luckily the park was a fantastic compromise. Trees provided ample shade and the sky was full of little clouds, it was late in the day with the promise of evening creeping up and he’d found a soft patch of grass beneath a tree to drop down on and stretch his legs.

He had his mom to thank for it, really. She’d made a point of it–to get out and go to the markets and the festivals and the beaches, wide-brimmed sunhats and sunscreen and colorful glasses in tow. This is our world now, starlight. Let’s share it with them.

Skipper breathed in, slowly.

My mother’s name is Striding. She dyed her hair to match mine when I was young. The last color was red. Her eyes were gold. She was warm and brown and liked to wear blue.

He breathed out.

I remember her, even when I can’t remember her face.

In, out. It was good. It was enough. Skipper felt something cold stir the corner of his mind. Yes? he prompted the demon vacuumed into his soul.

Elegy opened all of his cold, deadlit eyes behind the veil of Skipper’s thoughts: I HAVE BEEN THINKING.

Skipper looked down at the grass next to his hip and picked up one of the sketchbooks he’d saved from the pile littering his art station back home. He had so many, older ones from before he’d come to Maroa and newer once he’d picked up since. Some were filled already but others weren’t. He’d asked Logan to point out the one he should work on next. 

Skipper gazed down at the black-bound journal in his hands; it was weathered on the edges, faintly stained. Small. It was one of his old ones and one of the last of them that was still blank. He wasn’t sure why he’d never filled it. That Logan had suggested it felt like a sign–something old, something new.

IF SOMEONE WHO HAD KNOWN HER WERE TO DREAM WITH YOU, YOU COULD SEE HER FACE AGAIN.

Skipper unclipped the brush pen he’d attached to the front of the journal. That’s true.

I KNOW IT IS NOT PERFECT. I KNOW YOU WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO KEEP IT IN YOUR HEART ONCE THE DREAM ENDED. STILL. The demon’s deadwind voice tapered like a chill.

Skipper smiled softly to himself: You think about things like this?

Elegy’s coils slid over each other, ice on ice. WHEN NOT OTHER THINGS.

Such as?

DEATH, NATURALLY. PIZZA ROLLS.

You’ve been thinking a lot about that lately.

LIFE AS WELL.

Skipper tugged his sunhat up and cracked open the journal. He then paused, pen-in-hand, and blinked down at it. Oh? 

The first pages weren’t blank after all; just stuck together. He stared down at them and for one small, precious moment was oblivious to all else.

[mortemnonobscure]

Vivek had less romantic opinions about the sun. He was especially sensitive to it. The older vampire had to wear hats and sunglasses and long sleeves no matter the time of year if he found it necessary to go out in the daytime. So it was he found himself walking briskly back through the park, the shortest path from the conference center to the home, head tilted down slightly to keep the glare from lancing under the brim of his old-fashioned hat. Humans didn’t often have symposiums on eco-friendly burial options in the night-time, after all. Even if it seemed considerably more thematic. Ah well.

Finally, he reached the blessed corridor of shade provided by an avenue of oak trees. He lifted his head and slowed a little. The breeze ruffling through them was so soft, so complex as it moved and danced among the branches. Vampiru hadn’t had trees like this. The light was too dim, too red. Even as the dappled sun threatened to burn any exposed skin, the Vespillo couldn’t help but admire the vibrant green of dancing leaves.

In contrast, a flash of fluttering red drew his attention. Vivek came to a slow halt. On the shady grass just off the path sat a young man, red curls bouncing as he bent over the pages of a journal. A sad smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Such a joyful explosion of curls always reminded him of…

The smile faltered. It simply could not be. His memory was casting hope where there was none, familiarity on a stranger. He took a step, as if to keep walking. Stopped again. Luckily, he didn’t seem to be noticed in his moment of indecision.

[mortemnonobscure]

persimmononroll​:

Neht lived a peaceful life these days -well, relatively, anyway- but something in her still remained of the vicious little firebrand from Vampiru, practically wreathed in blades. It still wasn’t something she liked to show people.

“Well, let’s hope this is the very last time. I’m Neht. Just Neht,” she said, deciding it best not to mention the fact that she was the one who created the stupid little thing in the first place unless he asked. Hopefully he wouldn’t but Neht couldn’t predict the future.

“I could mend that for you, if you’d like.”

“Oh! Yes. I would appreciate that, actually. I have had this coat since arriving here. They don’t really make coats like this anymore.” He reached up to smooth his hair back, once more as calm as if his walk had never been interrupted. “It’s good to meet you, Neht. No real harm was done after all.”

[persimmononroll]

mortemnonobscure​:

Vivek stumbled away from her as the sharp flicker of a blade lunged towards the creature. The sound it made was bone-chilling, garbled and piercing. A dying sound. The vampire watched it writhe with a wince.

“I…I see,” he managed, stepping more nimbly to the creature’s back, claws raised to land another blow should it be needed–though she clearly had it under control from here. “Is it…a spirit?” That didn’t make complete sense, since it was clearly physical enough to cause harm, and could feel the pain of a sword. But Vivek had no context for what else it might be.

Neht struck and struck and was not satisfied until it fell silent, until it stopped moving, until the shadow faded away into nothingness like a bad dream. Then she sheathed the sword again and tucked an errant curl of hair behind her ear. She might be in the middle of the woods killing her own creations but she wasn’t going to be untidy. The very idea was absurd.

“A thoughtform, new to the world. Nasty little thing,” she said. “I am so very sorry. Are you okay? Are you hurt? Oh dear, your coat.”

That, at least, she could mend with no problem.

[mortemnonobscure]

Vivek watched each strike with wide eyes, eventually sheathing his claws as it became VERY apparent that she had this completely handled. The poor thing had been stabbed into literal oblivion.

“...Ah. Oh! No, I’m quite alright. The coat took the brunt of it.” He reached down and picked up the ragged hem. “A thoughtform...gracious. I’ve never encountered such a thing.” He blinked his pale eyes down at her and inclined his head. “Vivek Calveri. Thank you for coming along when you did.”

[persimmononroll]

mortemnonobscure​:

Luckily, only Vivek’s coat was torn, fluttering in the dark like moth’s wings as he stepped back quickly and out of Neht’s way. 

“This–does it belong to you?” He asked hesitantly, claws still spread wide as he kept his pale eyes locked on the creature. It definitely seemed distracted by the other vampire–because clearly, they were, and the name for those strange eyes flashed suddenly into his mind. Other questions beckoned in its wake. But he had little time to consider them: the creature shrieked once more, and with a bounding leap, threw itself towards Neht.

Mistake, mistake, mistake, an awful thing made worse that someone had the misfortune to witness it, an awful thing that Neht did not want to claim and yet it did belong to her. She could stitch a coat up but if she didn’t end this creature’s tantrum soon, she might have to stitch up a little more than fabric.

“I don’t want it,” she said, eyes on her wayward little shadow.

Her creation leapt at her, clawed and fanged, and Neht lashed out with her blade, thrust forward, ran it through the heart. It was not the first time she had done this nor would it be the last. It shrieked but Neht’s heart remained unmoved.

[mortemnonobscure]

Vivek stumbled away from her as the sharp flicker of a blade lunged towards the creature. The sound it made was bone-chilling, garbled and piercing. A dying sound. The vampire watched it writhe with a wince. 

“I...I see,” he managed, stepping more nimbly to the creature’s back, claws raised to land another blow should it be needed--though she clearly had it under control from here. “Is it...a spirit?” That didn’t make complete sense, since it was clearly physical enough to cause harm, and could feel the pain of a sword. But Vivek had no context for what else it might be.

[mortemnonobscure]

Reminiscence

Vivek sat on the edge of his bed, sunset light filtering orange and winter-bright across his knees. He could hear Cassie getting ready for her night class, clattering around cheerfully in the bathroom. At his feet was a small wooden chest, smelling of cedar and old cloth, and full of simple black-bound books. One lay open on his lap. He brushed a pale hand over the spread of photographs, as if his fingertips were instinctively trying to Read the memories locked away in them.

This was, in its own way, a ritual. Undertaken every year on this date. The day he’d come to Earth, with...

Gallivant, her hair in an effortless bun with a distinctive 1960s swoop, beaming from in front of a starlit Niagra falls. She had Stryx’s coat slung over her shoulders, her wife’s arm slung protectively around her as if to keep the spray and chill at bay. 

The two of them posed with him in front of Cliffside at the signing, having clearly roped their agent into taking the picture. Vivek barely fit in the frame, smiling widely if a little awkwardly at the camera.

Baby Striding, cradled in his arms as he sat in the same upholstered armchair that was still in his sitting room. Her tiny chubby hand was wrapped around one of his fingers, mouth open in a scream of delighted laughter. He always looked somehow younger in these pictures with her. Striding had cast a light from her as soon as she was born--everyone and everything it touched seemed better for it.

Except for..well.

A few photographs were less happy, though a stranger would never know. An anxious young man hovering at the edge of a frame, or seated at the downstairs piano, loving hands resting on his shoulders. How could they have known at the time?

And finally...a curly-haired babe with Striding’s eyes, again screaming in delight in his arms, wee tail peeking from the edge of a worn baby blanket. It always struck Vivek with a pang of deep sadness how little he changed picture to picture. How everyone else grew and aged and vanished from the frames, like a river breaking around a stone and passing away beyond sight. His thumb brushed across the baby’s face. If he thought long and hard enough he could almost smell the detergent Striding had liked to use for all of the baby’s clothes. It was lavender. Gallivant and Stryx had grown a huge bush of it, and she’d always loved...

Vivek heard Cassie call to him through the door and he closed the book with a shakey sigh. “Coming,” he replied, blinking as he brought himself back to the present. It was as if a chatter of voices had suddenly stopped. The weight of silence, of a nearly empty house, pressed in on him.

But then she called again, affectionately impatient at her silly, absent-minded old uncle, and he allowed himself a small smile. Not quite alone, not quite yet. 

He slid the box back under his bed. Til next year.

[persimmononroll]

mortemnonobscure​:

Vivek startled at the sight of those eyes charging at them towards the gloom. A flash of memory sparked in and out of his mind like a lightbulb bursting–but he couldn’t spend time pursuing it just now. The creature’s claws ripped through his coat with the tearing sound of fabric and he grunted as he stumbled away, forcing his attention back to the problem at hand. He hissed–actually hissed! How uncivilized–at the Thing, wings twitching in their harness with the urge to make himself seem larger, buffet it. Instead he stepped to the side to give the newcomer more room to maneuver. 

“I hope you know what this is,” he managed, panting a little.

Oh dead, oh dear, oh f-

Had it gotten him? Had it drawn blood? What an awful blunder this thing was, what a stupid lapse in judgement. Perhaps one day she’d rebuild this half-finished idea and turn it into something useful, something more controllable, but right here and now, it was something that needed to be erased. Neht was not fond of most of her creations.

“A mistake,” said the witch, jaw tense, the old animalistic urge to rip into this entity with her fangs in her heart, though she certainly wasn’t going to do that: at least, not now, anyway. “Come here, you stupid thing. Yes, that’s right, come on, little duck, let’s not have any more of this.”

If she could draw it to her, then she could stab it neatly through where its heart should be and hopefully be rid of all of this nonsense. If it clawed her, if it bit, well, what of it? God only knew it was only a little drop in the bucket of everything wrong with her physical form.

[mortemnonobscure]

Luckily, only Vivek’s coat was torn, fluttering in the dark like moth’s wings as he stepped back quickly and out of Neht’s way. 

“This--does it belong to you?” He asked hesitantly, claws still spread wide as he kept his pale eyes locked on the creature. It definitely seemed distracted by the other vampire--because clearly, they were, and the name for those strange eyes flashed suddenly into his mind. Other questions beckoned in its wake. But he had little time to consider them: the creature shrieked once more, and with a bounding leap, threw itself towards Neht.

[mortemnonobscure]

persimmononroll​:

The shadow didn’t -couldn’t- understand what happened to its body, whole one moment and then torn through the next. It was enough of a shock for it to retreat, however momentarily, to the deep darkness under the closest tree, its body shaking as it comprehended its new reality. Being touched hurt. Being hurt was bad. If it was never touched, it would never hurt. Therefore, it was best to eliminate anything that could touch it.

“Hello, don’t be afraid! I’m here to help!”

Oh dear, there really was a person. She was generally extremely good at keeping her mistakes away from other people -in her position, one had to be- but there was a reason she lived in the middle of the woods away from her children and her spouses. Vivek would see a pair of bright eyes in the dark before anything else, a sickly green stained with red. In other circumstances, she’d glamour up, even and especially amongst other vampires -with the Daughters of Egregori secluded away in their obscure villages, few of the recent generations had even seen one, but even still, Neht didn’t want to startle anyone- but she had more pressing matters to attend to. She drew the sword from her cane and…

Oh, whatever was that? Neht saw claws and long arms and height, and for a second, she hesitated, startled at something she wasn’t quite expecting, before remembering the general existence the Vespillo. On Vampiru, she had been a pretty bauble in the service of the families who mattered and then moldering in prison and then in the heart of the Egregori, who never let outsiders handle their dead. Once upon a time, he had been a very vain and very stupid little thing who would have been disgusted but Neht was older now and a sin-eater regardless.

A moment’s hesitation was enough for the shadow to scream back into a frenzy, claws at the ready.

Vivek startled at the sight of those eyes charging at them towards the gloom. A flash of memory sparked in and out of his mind like a lightbulb bursting--but he couldn’t spend time pursuing it just now. The creature’s claws ripped through his coat with the tearing sound of fabric and he grunted as he stumbled away, forcing his attention back to the problem at hand.

He hissed--actually hissed! How uncivilized--at the Thing, wings twitching in their harness with the urge to make himself seem larger, buffet it. Instead he stepped to the side to give the newcomer more room to maneuver. 

“I hope you know what this is,” he managed, panting a little.

[mortemnonobscure]

persimmononroll​:

It didn’t like that as much as it could dislike something, lacking all capacity for understanding in a world without context.

It knew this: claws were something new. Something new meant something dangerous. Something dangerous was bad; therefore, anything new had to go. Its amorphous form shifted, grew an imitation of claws, and it screamed, a harsh, nearly mechanical sound like a recording of someone who had only heard of screams in old text books but decided to give it a try anyway. Whether this was a warning or an attempt at communication, even it couldn’t know, but the shadow sprung again, frenzied.

The cacophony was enough for Neht, frustrated for many different reasons, to pinpoint the approximate location of the errant thoughtform. If it was making such a fuss about who even knew what, then there was a good chance it had found some hapless person in the woods…or maybe it happened upon a possum and had no idea of what to make of it. Neht really didn’t want any harm to befall a possum either because they really were such dear little creatures, so careful with their paws, but she prayed it was the latter and not the former. At very least, mindwipes might have to be involved and then she’d have to call in her regulator contact and he was such a pain the ass to deal with and that was the best case scenario.

Maybe she shouldn’t think about this too hard. Historically speaking, thinking about things never ended too well for her after the fall. Neht really could not get through this forest fast enough to stab this awful thing.

The back of Vivek’s neck prickled as the Thing shrieked at him, its form shifting to mimic his own. 

When it sprung at him again, he shifted to the side once more, but this time he brought his own claws up and through the figure as it passed, grunting with the effort of not being bowled over by its momentum. The texture of the Thing wasn’t like flesh and blood; it sent a shiver down his spine even as he whirled around to face it again, eyes wide. 

He did not pursue it, instead waiting to see if it was still in a frenzy of attack. It might be wise to run, given he had no idea what this was. His claws flexed slowly, black shadowy fluid dripping from them. Hm. Odd. Very odd.

The sound of someone crashing through the brush presented a new and perhaps worse problem. It definitely sounded like a person. “Watch out,” he called, as loud as he dared as the Thing regained its footing. “It’s not safe!”

[persimmononroll]

mortemnonobscure​:

Not too many, it was true. Just one in fact. A very old and very distracted vampire out for an evening stroll, lost in his own thoughts. Vivek used to do this more often. It gave him an almost youthful thrill to climb carefully over the ROAD CLOSED barrier after hours, when all the humans had gone home from the trails and nobody was supposed to be out here. Almost youthful, almost. It simply slipped away once he was into the rhythm of his walk, head bowed, hands clasped behind his back. The deep quiet autumn night fell around him like a shroud. But his eyes picked the trail out as easily as if it were daytime, glimmering like flashes of pale water.

Lots to think about these days. The Vespillo hadn’t realized how many years had passed in which he’d spent his days secluded, tomblike, in ever decreasing routines, ever shrinking boundaries. It had been almost a decade since he’d stopped going on these evening walks. The fact that he never noticed was more unsettling than the time itself. Ah well.

A movement ahead of him on the path caught his attention. He paused for a second, long-legged momentum hesitating for a brief instant before he finished his step. An animal maybe. He lifted his head a little. No…the wind was coming towards him. No little flickering sounds or smells, no eyes glimmering at him from the dark.

Another vampire maybe, or a human similarly disinclined to follow stupid schedules. “Hello?” He called out in a rasping tone before clearing his throat and trying again. “Who goes?”

The antiquated question fell on silence. Vivek listened patiently, hands twitching behind his back.

Newly brought into existence, the shadow experienced the world as a jumbled mess of noise and color and sensation, stimulus for which it lacked all context and understanding. A thing such as it made hastily and accidentally, drawn solely from Neht’s troubled thoughts, only had flickers of understanding of a few things: to run, to stalk, to not tolerate anything moving near it, to make startling things stop. Perhaps it could gain the capacity for further thought in time, to understand the world around it, but perhaps it’d turn into a beast ready to devour anything unlucky enough to cross its path. The Egregor didn’t intend on waiting around to see what it might become. Neht might be kind in her own way but nice? No, not when something needed to be done.

The light of the full moon offered some illumination to navigate by. Neht knew the various twists and turns of the forest well, rarely leaving it, but one did like to watch out for roots that might trip you up. He stopped to examine a patch of broken undergrowth. That didn’t innately mean anything when plenty of critters called this forest home but the accompanying tracks that resembled nothing familiar? Well, that might just mean something. He’d follow this path and hopefully it’d lead towards his errant thought.

Meanwhile, the amorphous shadow hesitated for a moment as it tried to comprehend what it was seeing, ready to run further into the woods to where it was quiet…but then Vivek spoke and it didn’t like that noise at all. It couldn’t understand much yet but it understood that if something made noise, then it needed to not make noise.

It crouched and launched itself towards Vivek, ready to bite.

[mortemnonobscure]

There was a split second in which Vivek, maybe alarmingly, did not move. The figure leaping at him wasn’t recognizable. He registered a flash of teeth.

The old Vespillo jumped to the side with surprising agility, hands swinging forward from behind his back, pale eyes fixed on the barely perceptible Thing rounding for another attack. Oh dear. He had no idea what this was at all. It could be anything! So many beings were flooding to Earth, even by the MOMENT.

Or, it was nothing more than an alien kind of animal.

Claws slid from his fingertips with a whispering sound. The faint pop of bones shifting, and perhaps a groan, were all that most would be able to discern of the vampire shifting, just slightly, just enough.

“Begone,” he rasped, the sound hollower now. He was probably going to ruin his clothes, getting into a fight like this. Cassie would be livid. Or maybe congratulatory? Hard to tell with young ones these days.

[persimmononroll]

Shadow of a Doubt

Neht disagreed with many popular conceptualizations of good and evil on Earth but readily agreed that diligence was a virtue.

She prided herself on it, cultivated it like her oleanders and foxglove. Diligence was maintaining the mental lock separating her thoughts from the rest of the Egregori at all costs despite the terrible toll it took on this body. Diligence was tending to the trees day in and day out. Diligence was carefully safeguarding against all those little thoughts at the back of the mind that threatened to spill forth into reality if you weren’t careful. Neht was good at that. Most Egregori weren’t but then again, most Egregori never had the chance to develop anything close to mental defenses because they lived in closed societies that banned Scary Stories to Tell In The Dark on strict regulator orders because it could and would cause mass destruction if read by a Daughter without years of proper mental conditioning. Neht knew too well that the only thing keeping the Egregori communities safe from regulators for the time being was the fact that when properly utilized, they could produce extremely useful tools.

But even still, Neht was only a vampire (Well. A vampire, something that doesn’t belong in this universe, the endless thoughts of thousands of vampires living and dead, and the memory of utter panic and abrupt silence of the last Egregori on Vampiru. Life’s complicated sometimes.) and every vampire slips up eventually.

Sometimes it’s as simple as sitting down for a cup of mint tea before bed, spotting a flicker of movement out of the corner of your eye, and thinking to yourself, “It would certainly be a bad thing if that were some sort of shadow monster,” before dismissing the idea. The next night, you hear a creak of the floorboards, most likely from the cats scampering about, and you think with a chuckle, “Ah, it’s that shadow monster again,” before you venture onward to check on what the little dears are doing this time. Maybe later, you awaken in the middle of the day still caught in the remnants of a dream (because you were originally a mere Egregor rather than being born into this mess, so unlike the rest, you know dreams are real and therefore still do it.) and see a person (but certainly not a person) in the corner made of pure darkness and spend a few moments staring, unable to move, at something you know may harm you before your brain catches up with your body and fully awakens. You sleep fitfully and when you awaken again, you spend the night fretting over whether or not you’ve believed something into existence (“Did I…no, no, that surely wouldn’t be enough…but what if?”) before concluding that you probably didn’t. Most likely. Maybe. After a few nights of worrying off and on, you almost get the idea out of your head but then the black cat bolts down the hall and before you come to your senses, you know that you’ve made that blasted shadow monster real before you realize it’s just sweet little Tarragon…but unfortunately for you, you’re chock full of eldritch potential and abundant with potential and that moment of certainty after so many days of doubt was just enough to spawn your anxiety demon into tenuous existence.

Fretting over whether he did or didn’t create something gets Neht every time.

Neht spent a frantic few minutes tearing through the house as quick as his body allowed trying to kill the blasted thing but the accursed beast eluded his grasp, dodging every blow of the cane and slipping out of a window he previously opened to clean. She gritted her teeth and watched it bound off into the woods. Fantastic. Freshly new to the world, it was still hollow and ephemeral, not ensouled yet, but let it escape and it might start to gain a foothold into reality, start to develop self-awareness, start to become permanent. That wouldn’t do at all. The last anyone needed was some sort of killer shadow escaping into the heart of Maroa or, worse, into the commune.

Neht shut the window so the kittens wouldn’t climb out and trudged off into the woods to dispatch a monster, muttering up a storm of curses. At least there probably wouldn’t be too many hapless wanderers in the woods up at this time…right?

[mortemnonobscure]

Not too many, it was true. Just one in fact. A very old and very distracted vampire out for an evening stroll, lost in his own thoughts.

Vivek used to do this more often. It gave him an almost youthful thrill to climb carefully over the ROAD CLOSED barrier after hours, when all the humans had gone home from the trails and nobody was supposed to be out here. Almost youthful, almost. It simply slipped away once he was into the rhythm of his walk, head bowed, hands clasped behind his back. The deep quiet autumn night fell around him like a shroud. But his eyes picked the trail out as easily as if it were daytime, glimmering like flashes of pale water.

Lots to think about these days. The Vespillo hadn’t realized how many years had passed in which he’d spent his days secluded, tomblike, in ever decreasing routines, ever shrinking boundaries. It had been almost a decade since he’d stopped going on these evening walks. The fact that he never noticed was more unsettling than the time itself. Ah well.

A movement ahead of him on the path caught his attention. He paused for a second, long-legged momentum hesitating for a brief instant before he finished his step. An animal maybe. He lifted his head a little. No…the wind was coming towards him. No little flickering sounds or smells, no eyes glimmering at him from the dark.

Another vampire maybe, or a human similarly disinclined to follow stupid schedules. “Hello?” He called out in a rasping tone before clearing his throat and trying again. “Who goes?”

The antiquated question fell on silence. Vivek listened patiently, hands twitching behind his back.

[mortemnonobscure]

Can they take care of a plant? What about a pet? What about a child? - Jacek

PLANT: Yes. He would excel at taking care of a plant. Its needs would be researched meticulously and performed exactingly. He's used to them being valuable specimens rather than home decor.

PET: Yes. Any creature under his care would have its health constantly monitored and tweaked to make sure it operates at its prime. It would never be bored, malnourished, or untrained. However Jacek has never had a pet of his own nor does he really want one. He has weird feelings about it.

CHILD: Yes, technically. Jacek would ensure a child would be well-educated, with a perfectly tailored diet and fulfilling schedule down to every minute of every day. They would meet or exceed the standards of development for their species without fault. He also does not have any emotional attachments towards children and would probably be horribly distant and unexciting to a child. No child would ever want to be babysat, much less raised, by him. He's never had a child and is not capable of producing one.

[mortemnonobscure]

Name one thing their parents taught them. - Vivek

How to sew his own reading cloths. How to tell when blood isn't safe to consume anymore. That to be a mortal who knows what it is to die more than once is a rare blessing, even if it feels like a heavy weight.

[mortemnonobscure]

They’ve won the lottery. Spend, or save? - Wil

He saves meticulously and has quite a nest egg by now, but it's mostly compulsory since he arrived on Earth at an unstable time and formed the habit.

[mortemnonobscure]

i dont see u posted this yet and i hope my line breask are preserved but. || vivek: 14. Would they agree with the term ‘guilty pleasure’? Do they have any? / 25. Safety or possibility? || ayda: 5. Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech! Will they give one, and what about? || wil: 7. Describe them in three words. Now let them describe themself in three words.

Ok so I never did reblog that meme but brain dead so I will be CONTENT WITH THESE!! Thank you Ellis!! VIVEK: 14. Would they agree with the term ‘guilty pleasure’? Do they have any? Sometimes, but only because he thinks that taking breaks for a nice beverage might interfere with his work schedule. Otherwise he's a little too old to be particularly worried about whether life's pleasures should be restricted or not, he just does what he likes. 25. Safety or possibility? Safety! The Exodus really did a number on him and he's content not to have any more literally universe-shattering revelations, thank you very much.

AYDA:

5. Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech! Will they give one, and what about? Oh yes, she would. It would be about something like how Earth has a lot of very interesting food and clothes but nobody here is good at being subtle or sneaky and she suspects that human spy media like James Bond is complete fiction. These creatures are NOT set up to be infiltrators. They have flat feet and breathe very loudly. Plus when they're nervous, you can smell it, which you can NOT do with her, and therefore if any REAL spy initiative wants to get started on Earth, you ought to contact her.

WIL:

7. Describe them in three words. Now let them describe themself in three words. I'd describe him as: "Found Missing Pieces." He would describe himself as: "Just Outta Sync."

[moroccanmanga]

Sometimes I think about them

[mortemnonobscure]

[willothewhispers]

mortemnonobscure​:

Vivek watched Satō’s hand on the bar top as if it were a separate living thing. He slowly dragged his clear gaze up to the volph’s face, blinking once.

“That’s considerably better than a lime,” he admitted finally.

The volph blinked calmly in return.

After a pause, “Agreed.” Then, the pressure of his hand eased a bit. “I’m afraid, though, I’m going to have to cut you off now. I’m sure you understand.”

[mortemnonobscure]

“I do.” Vivek stood slowly from his seat, hands brushing automatically over all his pockets until he found the one his wallet was in. He laid down the price of the drink and an appropriate tip, in bills that had clearly been straightened out before being tucked away.

Turning to leave, he paused, glancing back and down at the volph. “Perhaps,” he said, “in another and better life, we could get to know one another.” Then he raised his pale hand in farewell, and was gone.