(no subject)

[envers]

Who: Verso and you!
When: May for now. Might add extra prompts later.
Where: Hearthsong Salon + Various
What: Verso continues honing his Meramancy and seeks volunteers for glamour experiments. He also keeps busy other ways. Not that ignoring the Toux Rose makes it disappear entirely, but... what else can he do but keep going?

Comments

Glamorous Gesture - OTA

[envers]

[Soft afternoon light pools once more in the Hearthsong Salon, casting gentle shadows over the familiar patterned rugs. The scent of bergamot mingles softly with fresh-cut flowers arranged in delicate vases. Verso stands near the entrance, sleeves rolled up, sketchbook tucked under one arm. His eyes move deliberately across the room, catching the quiet movements of guests drifting through the space.

The usual stream of volunteers has slowed to a trickle, and a thoughtful crease forms on his brow. With a small, almost shy smile, he approaches a nearby guest, voice low but steady:]

Mind if, ah... ask a favour? I haven't had many people sit for my glamours lately. [Probably because of the Toux Rose, but that goes without saying.] If you'd let me work on something for you — just for a couple of hours — I'd appreciate it.

[He gestures toward a long mirror, a quiet invitation to step into something new, even if just for a little while.]

Neither Snow nor Swoon - NiGHTS

[envers]

[Verso stands at the edge of the quiet canal in Menthward, clutching a satchel filled with bundles of carefully sealed envelopes, each addressed in looping script. He takes a deep breath, noting the all-too-familiar scent of saltwater mixed flowers. The bustling noise of the day has faded to a sleepy lull. Ahead, shadowed boats drift silently along the darkened waterways, their lanterns casting flickering reflections on the water.

He'll have to move quietly, weaving through the canals without drawing attention under the faint glow of the Calyx.

His first stop? A hidden garden courtyard in Bellvine Hill, where a noble's handmaiden waits to receive a letter from a secret admirer. The map in his hand is little more than a rough sketch; tonight, relying on memory and instinct will be just as critical as discretion.

He was told to use a specific courier boat... and that's exactly what he's doing. But as Verso kneels by the boat's hatch, he realizes the small lock won't budge no matter how he fiddles with it.]

Hm. Well, that won't do.

[The wind is picking up, too. Lovely. Just his luck for a storm to roll in while he's out.]