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+---- Thread: you call me reckless, I call it art (/showthread.php?tid=12546)
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you call me reckless, I call it art - Mateo - 02-21-2026
Mateo has settled in at Wildering House as though he'd never left, which is delightful considering he's never properly lived in this house in the way he had at Flora's previous abode. The estate is sprawling and gorgeous and tropical, the hallways extravagant and perfect for flouncing through in various states of undress, and gods, the lighting. The glass archway corridors. The pool.
Considering the botanist has lost every crumb of the childhood he'd known and the life he'd built with Stormbreak's collapse, he likes to believe he's thriving. He's being cautious with it, because what looks like thriving to a lot of people is actually self-medication for Mateo, but genuinely - he feels good. He misses his shop, sure, and La Verbena is still basically storage for his varying plantlife while he finds them all new homes, but he's hardly wallowing.
And even if he were wallowing, he'd be wallowing in the sunshine, so go fuck yourself.
All of that is to say that mid-morning finds the botanist in a wicker chair on the terrace with a mimosa in hand and his bare legs flung across the arm of his seat. His sunglasses are large and teal and probably Flora's, and the sarong he's got tied about his waist is splashed with red flowers (and definitely Flora's). The sun isn't too hot yet and so he basks in it without shame, soaking in the heat from the cloudless sea of blue overhead.
RE: you call me reckless, I call it art - Flora - 02-21-2026
Flora steps out onto the terrace, bare feet warm against the coral stone, her black one-piece bathing suit cutting a decisive line down her torso to her navel. The brim of her hat casts her face in cinematic shadow, oversized glasses catching the light, gold glinting at her wrists and throat and fingers, and she pauses just long enough at the threshold to properly appreciate the way Mateo was sprawled over wicker and borrowed silk and teal lenses like he’s been personally appointed ambassador of indulgence. The sight of him there, sun-drunk and stubbornly thriving, does something quiet and unnameable in her chest, and instead of naming it she lets her mouth tilt upward, slow and feline, as if she’s caught him mid-heist and couldn’t be more pleased about it.
She crosses the deck with an easy sway, one hand resting at her hip, the other holding a single bloom between careful fingers. The petals are a soft, bruised violet, delicate as tissue paper, but the stem is vicious with thorns; aggressive, unapologetic, almost comical in their hostility. Her engagement ring catches the light as she extends the flower toward him, able to wear her ring openly here given that the people within the walls of her home were the only ones who knew about secret marriage.
[say]"What’s this one?"[/say] she asks, voice warm and curious and edged with that familiar, playful challenge, like she’s testing him on a pop quiz she already knows he’ll pass.
RE: you call me reckless, I call it art - Mateo - 02-21-2026
Mateo has just remembered the mimosa in his hand and is sipping from it when Flora appears, the alternative being to accidentally nap and let it slip from his fingers entirely, and he tips his head back to flash her a dimpled smile as she sashays across the terrance. [say]"Mmm?"[/say] Sitting up just enough to examine the flower she presents to him, he adjusts his sunglasses down onto his nose to look at it properly, eyes widening in open wonder.
[say]"If I did not know better,"[/say] he says slowly, [say]"I would say that is solanum trilobatum. It is a member of the nightshade family - not the deadly kind, though. This one has healing properties, as well as being very pretty."[/say] Another sip of his mimosa and he sits up properly now, scooting his chair so it might openly face the matching one beside it in case Flora wants to take a seat. [say]"Do you think the flowers your ring grows match Kai's mood for the day?"[/say] he asks with a grin.
A rose for if he's feeling romantic, a calla lily if he's feeling morose, a carnation if he hates Flora that day (in Mateo's opinion anyway).
RE: you call me reckless, I call it art - Flora - 02-21-2026
Flora’s brows lift in theatrical intrigue as Mateo names it, lips parting as though she’s bracing for something deliciously lethal, and when he clarifies it isn’t deadly she pouts, lower lip nudging forward beneath the shadow of her hat. Her expression brightens immediately as he mentions it might have healing properties though, and she grins at the purple flower before lowering herself into the chair next to his.
[say]"Mmmm, I doubt it. He kinda wakes up in the more or less the same mood every morning."[/say] The smirk that follows is lazy and conspiratorial; if her ring was based on Kai's mood, whatever flower morning wood inspired was bound to be one she saw nearly every day. [say]"There’s only so much variety available when a man wakes up in exactly the same...enthusiastic condition."[/say] They were newlyweds, after all.
[say]"I’ve noticed the spirits have been rearranging all the flowers,"[/say] she continues, voice lowering just slightly, thoughtful now. [say]"I can't tell what they're basing the arrangements on, though."[/say] Her fingers absently trace the thorned stem again, unbothered by the threat of it.
RE: you call me reckless, I call it art - Mateo - 02-21-2026
[say]"If you are that upset that it will not poison anyone, you could always give them a jab with the throrns,"[/say] Mateo says through a laugh as he spots her pout beneath her sunhat, the botanist stretching out before relaxing once more in his seat to enjoy the sun and the easy company. Though as she mentions Kai's morning mood, he gives a token scrunch of his nose. [say]"Ew, Flora,"[/say] he chimes, his tone warm with affection. Not because his sensibilities have been offended (it's Mateo, for gods' sakes), but because it's the rules that he has to be grossed out by his sister getting it on with her husband.
His brows furrow at the mention of the spirits and their flower arrangements, though, Mateo lowering his sunglasses so he can pin her with blue eyes just as dramatic as her own. [say]"Those aren't the spirits, that is me,"[/say] he tells her haughtily. [say]"And they are based on a great number of things, sorellina, from what looks good together to what needs the same amount of light."[/say] He sighs theatrically and tips the rest of the mimosa into his mouth, as if she has forced such a reaction from him.
[say]"Oh. OH,"[/say] he says as he sets the glass down. [say]"I forgot to tell you! Isla had her baby!"[/say]
RE: you call me reckless, I call it art - Flora - 02-21-2026
Flora beams at Mateo's theatrical disgust like a cat who’s just knocked something expensive off a shelf on purpose, entirely unrepentant. [say]"Listen,"[/say] she drawls, adjusting the brim of her hat. [say]"Just be grateful you don’t have a room anywhere near ours."[/say] Her brows lift meaningfully beneath her sunglasses, lips curving with wicked composure. No one had a room beside hers, or even a room beneath it. The architectural choices were deliberate in that regard, thank you very much.
When he lowers his glasses and pins her with that dramatic blue stare, she blinks back at him innocently before throwing a hand up in defence, gold bracelets chiming softly. [say]"How was I supposed to know, Mateo?"[/say] she demands. [say]"I go for a run, I come back, and the hibiscus has eloped with the bougainvillea. I assumed one of the spirits was a former interior decorator."[/say] She leans back into the wicker, one leg folding beneath her. She'd have expected to find little notes left against each vase, rearranged by your genius brother, you’re welcome.
She’s fully prepared to continue the critique when he drops the news about Ever and Isla, and her mouth falls open in perfect, exaggerated shock. [say]"Shut up,"[/say] she breathes, straightening so quickly her hat tips back slightly. [say]"That’s amazing. Do you know what they had, or what they named it?"[/say]
RE: you call me reckless, I call it art - Mateo - 02-21-2026
[say]"You are the one who ought to be grateful, believe me,"[/say] Mateo says with a catlike smile for her in return. They might not be the same partners each time - and they might not even always be in Wildering House - but Torchline certainly has her share of treasures, and Mateo has made it his mission to sample as many of them as he can. As for his flower arranging, he stifles the urge to argue to instead shoot her with a radiant and dimpled grin. [say]"You remembered their names,"[/say] he chimes, like she's remembered the names of his children, and leaves it at that.
Good thing too, because speaking of children--
[say]"I will not,"[/say] he says, grinning and scooting to the edge of his chair as if delivering important news - because in his mind, this is the most important news since learning of their own sibling...s. [say]"They had a perfect little girl,"[/say] he gushes, [say]"and they have called her Fern. Fern Lockwood-Hart. I have not met her yet - I imagine that Ever and Isla will want some time just for them - but I will be visiting as soon as I am allowed. Everything went well though, from what I can gather. No complications."[/say]
RE: you call me reckless, I call it art - Flora - 02-21-2026
Flora rolls her eyes at his smug little smile, though the affection in it disarms her before she can sharpen her tongue properly, and she lets out a huff of laughter that pretends to be annoyed and fails spectacularly. Her mouth twitches as he praises her for remembering the flowers, and she tries—valiantly—not to look pleased with herself, though the corner of her lips betrays her anyway.[say]"I do listen to you,"[/say] she insists, lifting her chin. [say]"Sometimes."[/say]
Then he leans forward with that conspiratorial brightness and she mirrors him without thinking, pulled in by the gravity of it, and when he says it’s a girl her entire face lights up. [say]"Awww, a girl,"[/say] she echoes, before he says the name and her mouth drops open and she swats at his shoulder immediately, not hard, but accusatory, scandalized. [say]"Fern?"[/say] she demands. [say]"Fern?"[/say]
Her sunglasses slide down her nose as she peers at him over the rim, suspicion written plainly across her face. [say]"Tell me you didn't have some hand in them picking that name."[/say] She narrows her eyes playfully. [say]"This feels like botanical propaganda to me."[/say]
RE: you call me reckless, I call it art - Mateo - 02-21-2026
[say]"Mmhm, a gi-- ow!"[/say] Mateo flinches back, laughing, as she swats at his shoulder, rubbing at the bare flesh as if Flora might have left a bruise that won't match the tan he's been working on. (And who knows, it might - his sister is built stats-wise). [say]"Fern is a pretty name!"[/say] he exclaims, his eyebrows raising as if daring her to say otherwise. [say]"And I did not have any part in it, thank you very much. I was busy packing up my life to move down from Stormbreak, if you recall."[/say]
Haughtily readjusting his sunglasses and settling back in his chair, he reaches for his mimosa before remembering the glass is empty and slouches dramatically, gesturing in a way utterly reminiscent of Remi. [say]"I do like the idea of botanical propaganda, though,"[/say] he admits with a grin flashed in her direction. [say]"You visited dad up at Meadowreach a few days ago, right? How is the, uh, sprout, doing?"[/say]
He doesn't hide the conspiratory twitch of his lips as he says it. Of course he had noticed the indications on the growing plant that suggested the formation of not one bud but two, but he's waiting to see if either of their thick-skulled fathers realises it as well.
RE: you call me reckless, I call it art - Flora - 02-21-2026
Flora’s expression sharpens instantly at his airy reference to packing up his life, her sunglasses sliding lower as her aqua stare fixes on him with theatrical disbelief. [say]"Mmhm,"[/say] she echoes, long and skeptical, as if he’s just claimed he popped out for snacks and not been forced to relocate cities. She doesn’t press the issue though, because Fern is a good name. Instead, she lifts her chin slightly, accepting his innocence in the Fern Affair with a suspicious little hum, though the grin tugging at her mouth betrays how delighted she is by the whole thing.
At the mention of Meadowreach, she nods once, slow and deliberate, the brim of her hat casting a crescent shadow over her smile. [say]"They’re doing very well,"[/say] she says, pointedly plural, and watches his face as she says it. The crookedness of her grin gives her away before anything else does, with Flora leaning back and stretching her legs out into the sun, fingers toying idly with the violet bloom still balanced between them. [say]"Remi and Ronin still don’t have a clue,"[/say] she adds, unable to keep the conspiratorial delight from her voice before her shoulders lift in a small, helpless shrug that radiates smugness. [say]"Honestly, I don’t know how we’re related to them sometimes."[/say]
RE: you call me reckless, I call it art - Mateo - 02-21-2026
Mateo narrows his eyes right back behind his glasses, though as he's judged and apparently deemed innocent in the botanical naming of the latest addition to the Lockwood-Hart family, he relaxes a fraction. [say]"Very glad to hear it,"[/say] he says instead of the them that is their own siblings-to-be, stretching his arms above his head and letting them hook over the back of his chair. [say]"At least if nothing else they are good at following instructions. I gave them an explicit care pamphlet for them,"[/say] he says, before smirking across at Flora. [say]"I think I even referenced them in the plural in it a couple of times. And still nothing."[/say]
Honestly, for two demigods who have saved the world perhaps multiple times, Mateo has no idea how they get dressed in the morning without help. [say]"Do you think we should let them know soon?"[/say] he continues, as casual as he is amused by the whole thing. [say]"If it were not two babies involved I would be inclined to let them find out when it happens, but they will be getting the Northaven ready for one child."[/say] His brow furrows then, gently, as if realising it for the first time.
[say]"One crib, one mobile, enough clothing and toys for one newborn."[/say] He scrunches his nose. [say]"The last thing I want is for one of them to go without all because we found it funny."[/say]
RE: you call me reckless, I call it art - Flora - 02-21-2026
Flora tilts her head as he explains the pamphlet, lips twitching in disbelief that he managed to slip plural pronouns into instructional literature and still their fathers sailed blithely past it. She stretches her legs out fully now, ankles crossing, sinking deeper into the wicker as though the weight of the secret settles comfortably across her shoulders. [say]"At first,"[/say] she begins slowly, gaze drifting toward the glitter of the pool, [say]"I was just going to go out and buy a second of everything. Another crib. Another mobile. Double the blankets. Then just...spring it on them once they realized it was twins."[/say]
Her mouth curves faintly at the imagined chaos of it; Remi’s hands in his curls, Ronin staring at two wailing infants like the world's biggest prank from Vi. [say]"But,"[/say] she adds, the word softening as it leaves her, and she exhales through her nose. [say]"That probably would be leaving it too late."[/say] She tips her head back against the chair, hat brushing the wicker, sunlight warming the slope of her throat as she considers the logistics instead of the comedy, before having to concede with a huff that Mateo was right. Her gaze slides sideways to him, smile reappearing, sly but fond. [say]"We probably should say something."[/say]
She studies him a moment, eyes bright with mischief beneath tinted lenses. [say]"Actually, you should do the honours since you're the only one who actually figured it out."[/say]
RE: you call me reckless, I call it art - Mateo - 02-21-2026
[say]"Aw,"[/say] Mateo says automatically, his own smile softening as his sister is, as usual, effortlessly thoughtful even in the face of oncoming chaos. But they're both right, he realises, and even if it wouldn't be too late in terms of showing up with enough stuff for two infants, their fathers would likely need time to process it properly without also needing to care for said infants. And so, considering the joke to have lasted long enough to remain funny without inching into neglect, he nods as well.
[say]"Hm?"[/say] When Flora concludes it should be his job to say something, for a moment Mateo can only look at her in shock, before his head tips back and he bursts out laughing. [say]"It would be an honour,"[/say] he tells his sister, all devious joy and barely contained excitement. [say]"I promise I will do my best to remember everything they say and do, so I can relay it back to you properly. And I suppose this means I should get a few more plants down from La Verbena, if I am expected to be able to sail her to King's End and be able to navigate properly."[/say]
RE: you call me reckless, I call it art - Flora - 02-21-2026
The sound of Mateo laughing—really laughing, head tipped back and shoulders loose and unguarded—draws a brightness out of Flora that she doesn’t even attempt to hide. The past few weeks have left salt in places Mateo likely won't ever be able to get clean again, and hearing that kind of joy spill out of him feels like watching a window thrown open after a storm. She beams at him outright, and while her cheeks don’t dimple the way his do, there’s a sharp glitter in her eyes that more than compensates.
When he mentions sailing to King’s End, she flaps a hand dismissively in his direction, bracelets chiming. [say]"You can take the Sugartide if you want,"[/say] she offers easily. [say]"Or just borrow my compass if that’s easier."[/say] Her mouth curves at the thought, sun catching along the edge of her hat as she shifts to face him more fully. [say]"Either way,"[/say] she adds, pointing a finger at him in mock severity, [say]"I expect a full report."[/say] Her grin widens, feline and anticipatory. [say]"Every blink. Every panicked inhale. I want to know exactly how long it takes for one of them to realize what you’re actually saying."[/say] She leans forward slightly, lowering her voice as if conspiring with him against the world. [asy]"There’s going to be at least ten seconds of silence. I guarantee it."[/say]