Woke Up Underwater

I was brought up as a southern belle
I grew into the queen of hell

Out on the beach, Hotaru takes up plentiful space with an eye-catching massive beach towel that is egregiously large considering the petite woman perched in the center of it. With winter on the horizon and the knowledge she will be spending some time in Halo to greet her new niece or nephew - whether she is needed for help or just to introductions - it's only fitting she sneak in some sunbathing time while she's capable of it. King's End has modest beaches, but nothing can possibly compare to Torchline's control of the market. It's simply a bonus that it allows her the option to visit Flora too.

Her soft glow is scarcely discernible beneath the height of the afternoon sun, but she's admittedly still a striking figure as she sits leisurely reclined on one arm while reading with another. A romance book that she scoffs at every few minutes, unimpressed by the trite nature of the current plot. Tossing it to the side when one passage ruins it entirely for her, Hotaru winces when her new strength sends it a little too far - past even the boundaries of her massive towel - and she grumbles slightly as she stands to retrieve it. It may be garbage, but that doesn't mean it's worthy of littering.

You were just a little stowaway
That stabbed her way to save herself

Loathe the way they light candles in Rome
But love the sweet air of the votives

"I got it!"

The voice is that of a devilishly handsome young man, wayward page of romantic literature clutched in his strong hands. Shirtless, his tanned skin gleaming beneath the sunlight, he appears an Adonis risen from the surf. Salt still clings crystalline to his luxurious mane, jet-black and cut short and perfectly wind-tossed. He extends a hand down to the demigoddess, smile vibrant as the sun on the sea and eyes like copper, glittering and warm as he takes in her voluptuous form---

Or so the scene might have been described, were this one of Hotaru's books.

In truth, the boy who offers Hotaru her page is less sunkissed-Adonis and more hometown-athlete-wholesome. He's even got a shirt on, unbuttoned though it may be. Still handsome, but with an air of almost bashfulness as he hands the paper back. "There you are, Ma'am."

Hotaru, of course, is devastatingly beautiful, especially in a bathing suit. It would be a lie to say that Koa doesn't notice (and maybe blasphemy?), but for once the presence of a gorgeous woman does not set him at ease. No, today the Dragoon is too preoccupied with organizing his thoughts because aw fuck this is Flora's mom and they've never really met.

Koa Carpenter

Hurt and grieve but don't suffer alone
Engage with the pain as a motive

I was brought up as a southern belle
I grew into the queen of hell

This would surely be the moment for Ru to lower her sunglasses down over her nose as time slows and the sun glints attractively across surf and sweat to dazzle her for a moment, lips parting and cheeks flushing. It's straight from the novel in the young man's hands really. An older woman and a hunky poolboy; maybe she's out of practice and woefully ignored by her husband, or maybe he's cocky and enjoys her scoffing rebuffs that weaken over time. It's a compelling hook - which means it's a shame that he calls her ma'am, which is a lust-douser in any situation. Luckily for the both of them, there really isn't anything to quench. Koa may have the foundations of something truly eye-catching, but well...he's not Sunjata. Maybe in a few years.

And that's when the connection pinging at the back of her head finally sinks in as her hand comes up to take the offered book. Oh. Oh. Oh, Flora, you poor carbon-copy doomed to repeat history. Now it makes sense.

"Thank you, though it may have been better off buried truly," she bemoans with a half-smile, tucking the book under one arm and lifting her sunglasses up onto the top of her head to make it clear that her eyes are sweeping over him in a way that is far more evaluating than appreciative. They've mingled without crossing paths so many times it feels cosmic; Flora's bar opening, the duck game in the swamp, surely more where she's glimpsed him and never thought twice about it. Oh, but of course she knows him. He knows she knows, she knows he knows, all those fun round-rabbit statements - so it's all the more fun to let him squirm by letting the knowledge hang unacknowledged for a bit.

"Now I'm a bold woman so I won't ask for your tolerance just for the sake of politeness," she states boldly, still sweet as sugar as she sweeps her hair over her shoulder. "You're not a Torcher. What brings you here in the off season?" It's appropriate small talk, but the large cat in Hotaru's chest prowls and paces, demanding a satisfactory answer before she deems to sheathe claws he has no idea are already poised to strike. Why are you hanging around in my daughter's land when last I heard you vanished on her? But it's a simple question, of course. No reason to overthink it when it's delivered with a smile, right?

You were just a little stowaway
That stabbed her way to save herself