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[versoul]

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pre-spooky kidnapping times

[trounce]

[ day-to-day life in the valentina isn’t so far removed from life as a convict in the fortress. granted, the latter came with far worse living conditions during his time as an exile—but the close proximity to all kinds of personalities is something wriothesley still navigates with ease when coming and going from his assigned room.

really, if he’s being honest, the only thing that feels familiar is the act of sparing passing glances toward open doorways or catching snippets of conversation down the hall.

it’s not until he strolls through the hotel floor by floor—instead of taking the elevator like usual—that he hears a voice that stops him. suspiciously familiar, in a language just adjacent enough to his own from fontaine, that he slows to investigate the source. ]

Oh. [ that’s all he manages at first. it’s hard to forget a face, after all—not when you’ve shared a string of cheesy romcoms in a dimly lit room, sprawled out on a couch, probably splitting snacks between viewings. just two bros doing bro things. but the last time they’d spoken in person—verso hadn’t looked anything like this. not with that telltale corruption clinging to him now. ]

Mr. Verso?

action;

[ofmisfortune]

[ A few days following their initial encounter, Vincent will show up at the door to Verso’s room in the Valentia. Evening has set in, yet he’s dressed appropriately enough for company, sans coat, and a bottle of pricy red wine in hand.

Following a polite knock, he’ll step back and tuck his arm behind him in wait. ]