Covey tugged at his mask as he walked down the street, adjusting it slightly. His other arm was wrapped around a paper bag of groceries - he would have to make a trip again some time this week, but these should be enough to tide him over for the week. Avoiding the busy streets during the week of Victory Day and his impromptu baking session had left his personal cupboards painfully bare. The cafeteria was always an option, but he liked keeping easy fix stuff in his room that he could snack on throughout the day or night. A cloak was loosely draped around his shoulders; a half-hearted attempt to conceal his wings from those who wouldn't care to look too closely at him. A balancing act of sorts to keep his identity concealed while not drawing too much attention.

A flickering streetlight caught the boy's attention and he paused to stare at it. Someone should really fix that up - maybe he could report it to someone or something. Who would he reach out to about that? The city? Or was it close enough to New League Tower to fall under their maintenance jurisdiction? Heck, he didn't know anything about who did what. Did the Tower even have a maintenance jurisdiction? Whatever. X would probably know, she seemed to know a lot of stuff.

With a yawn, Covey continued down his path. This night was too quiet. Gave him the heebie-jeebies.

[ @Willowfern ]

Vesper Waught
Civilian identity guarded | Phantasia Sia, Tassie | She/Her | Rigor's Museum.


Open.

It had been such a long day. The girl's hair was tied up in a neat ponytail, a dark blue ribbon wrapped around it. It was usual for her to keep her hair down, tying it up often felt too tight though, when sports came into play, Vesper fancied a high ponytail or a simple bun to keep her hair out the way. And evidently today, she'd been practicing her hand-to-hand combat, something essential to her being here. You see while her abilities did have some matter in the real world (of which she frankly still knew very little, other than the one time or two it accidentally happened), she was nearly defenceless in the face of actual danger until she got into their heads - literally.

Today, however, she was having a particularly hard time with it. Perhaps it was because she hadn't slept very well, or perhaps it was because soon, in a few days, she'll have been part of the New League for a year now, and a certain type of nerves was attached to that knowledge. Well, certainly, Vesper did feel nervous at the prospect of having been a part of the New League for a year, she felt like she still knew so very little about it, despite having read any and all guidebooks provided by the New League probably twice by now. But alas, she felt as though this deep feeling of uncertainty and pending doom wasn't quite that, but something different. Something she couldn't quite put her finger on, however hard she tried. And honestly, Vesper couldn't dislike that more.

Normally when she felt this way it home, she'd curl up on the sofa, sometimes with her aunt, and watch her favourite feel-good movie (an animated movie, probably). They weren't very mentally stimulating, but Vesper appreciated their joyous and dramatic stories, especially the life lessons found within them that many seemed to miss. But when she was at the New League and these dreadful feelings arose, the young girl more often than no found herself drifting towards Rigor's Museum. Perhaps it was to remind herself why she was here (beyond needing to learn how to manage her abilities), remind herself of Rigor's ventures or perhaps most importantly, remind herself that evil had been defeated. Level-headed and calm as she was, she had a deep fear of those days returning, which often caused a turmoil of emotions when nightmares betrayed her. Strangely, it was harder to use her abilities in her own dreams than in others'.

But that aside, here she was. half past four pm, half an hour before the museum is set to close. She went straight from her training to the museum, not even having bothered to undo her hair (though she was no longer wearing her training costume, mind you. Instead, she wore a simple, more comfortable version of her hero suit, as she should to keep her identity under guard. It was actually an old first try, something that surprised her existed and she was allowed to keep, and Vesper now fancied wearing it when she wanted to wear something more comfortable than her suit without breaking any rules). Silently she stood in front of a display window about halfway through the museum, hands clasped together and legs crossed as she stared at the frightening mask of the evil lord. She was seemingly unbothered by the time passing by, slowly walking around displays and stopping at some, if not most, much like she had in front of this one. It was almost repetitive the way she moved, but Vesper hardly noticed.