knowledge is power

Vespera Dragor | Historian Elf & Dragonborn

[vesperadragor]

ofatherion​:

❝  oh,  it’s  no  problem  at  all.  ❞  kinsey  says,  breathless,  bracing  herself  against  the  other,  hands  against  her  arms,  lithe  fingers  wrapping  around  the  fabric  of  her  clothes.  she  had  been  in  a  rush  to  find  a  bathing  chamber,  wanting  to  use  the  facilities  before  she  got  to  work  on  her  painting,  and  had  rounded  a  corner  too  fast,  coming  to  bump  into  someone.  

❝  i  didn’t  get  any  paint  on  you,  did  i?  ❞  they  ask,  quickly  removing  their  hands  and  looking  at  where  their  fingers  had  just  been  coiled.  where  their  bodies  had  just  collided.  she  didn’t  want  to  mess  up  the  other  person’s  belongings  or  make  them  all  messy  for  the  ball  when  it  was  supposed  to  be  a  formal  affair.  if  anyone  was  going  to  be  paint  covered,  it  would  be  kinsey.  they  take  a  step  back  and  brush  down  their  dress,  taking  a  breath.  it  felt  like  they’d  been  running  all  over  tonight,  talking  to  so  many  people,  doing  so  many  things.  she  needed  a  break.

-

The nerves of interaction in general quickly warped into a new thing altogether as Vespera felt the pressure of the others hands. It wasn’t direct contact and she didn’t feel the need to flinch away like she would have had her skin been touched but she did feel wildly unmoored by the touch. She couldn’t recall the last time anyone had been near like this and it felt paralyzing. It didn’t help that the brunette was breathtakingly beautiful and spoke with such ease while she stood there with her mouth open like a fish out of water. Then the weight of hands on her was gone and she sucked in air and shook her head. 

“W-What,” Vespera began blinking dumbly as she looked down at her all black garb and saw nothing before looking back at the other. “I mean no it seems fine and it wouldn’t show even if you had,” she assured her words coming a bit quicker than she might normally speak as she tried to get a hold of everything she was feeling. The sudden longing to touch a stranger that seemed to top off every other confusing thing rolling through her. “You’re painting at the ball? Whatever for,” Vespera inquired taking the chance to keep the subject neutral. 

[vesperadragor]

alistairlochtree​:

where: unity ball

open to: anyone

While his appearance was practically mandated, nobody had told Alistair he had to enjoy it. It was the mingling that was the problem, it was a ball, and there was an obvious dress code but individuals had shown up with tattered hemlines and pocket squares that didn’t match the occasion. It was a disgrace, but he intended to play nice. At least for now. Perched somewhere near the kitchens so he had first access to the flow of food that made its way out to the ball, he did his part to remind himself of the purpose of all this. Camaraderie, coming together, pleasantries, safety, so on and so forth. Idly Alistair was counting down the minutes until it was appropriate for him to leave, dark eyes wandering over what those on the floor considered dance. 

“You should be enjoying yourself,” Alistair remarked, “it’s a party, remember?” He tried to keep the chiding tone out of his voice and opted instead to tip his glass towards his lips, draining the champagne before setting it on a passing tray. If anyone was going to look sour and sulky he was determined that it would be him, at the very least if he was to have competition he could say that at least he looked far better. “Smile, maybe someone will even ask you to dance.”

-

The darker corner near the kitchens was meant to keep Vespera from having to interact too much while she was there. Unfortunately a familiar figure had found his way nearby and she had been unable to sneak away unseen and thus was unsurprised when the Prince finally spoke up to her. The tone of voice wasn’t unknown to her either seeing as she had spent many hours amongst the library in his home and had become familiar with he and his family from observing alone. Her lips quirked slightly downward at the mentioned that she should smile and she cocked her head to face him. 

“Your highness. I’m a historian if you’ll recall,” Vespera began her voice soft but still steady as she made eye contact with him through the one visible eye that was not beneath her hair and kept her face neutral. Her posture was formal as she bowed in just the slightest manner of greeting. Her black outfit almost looking like a mens suit if not for the corset overtop the long sleeve, high collared chemise giving the slightly feminine edge. “It’d be nothing aside from an embarrassment to you and yours if I were to dance,” she concluded firmly as if almost daring him to challenge her.

[vesperadragor]

Location: Leaving the Madan Library, Unity Ball  Who: Open

Unsure of how many hours she’d spent in the Madan Royal library this time Vespera had packed up her bag and stretched out her aching fingers that were stained with black ink. Ink that matched the black scales that littered her skin across all parts of her body. Skin that was fully covered by the darkest materials available so that none of that would ever risk being on display. People probably thought the historian almost prudish with the long sleeves and high collar she always wore. The pants and knee high boots and the gloves she was slipping onto her hands at that very moment. The only skin that showed was the fair elven face and even that was usually only half as her hair covered the single eye with the draconic pupil that was hidden from sight. 

With everything fully adjusted she moved through the stacks and out of the large and familiar room that felt like a home away from home. As she reached the door Vespera watched a few servers rush by and realized what time it must be. The Ball was here. She was dressed well enough as she always dressed in a studious high society manner when she came to use the royal library but emotionally she was not ready at all to face this. She had meant to be long gone before this had begun. “Professor, allow me to take your books while you enjoy the ball,” she heard a familiar voice call before the bag was removed and she was practically spun down the hall towards where the voices where echoing from. 

Entering the room Vespera very nearly tripped into a person nearby thanks to the forced movement and she felt her stomach clench as nerves hit. “Apologies my friend back there was a bit too excited,” she commented aloud to the nearest person she’d almost taken out.