i'd pay any price

honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time

Flora and Hadama make their way along the winding path that leads to Safrin’s lighthouse, the scent of salt and sea heavy in the air. Though there's plenty for the two leaders to talk about, they've left further discussions of how their last few days have gone until after calling down Safrin. Hadama hadn't risked his life on Starfall and Flora hadn't lost Jack simply for their efforts to be potentially undone by bad timing.

As they reach the coastal portion of the shrine, Flora sets her offering down—a beautifully crafted glass figurine that catches the light and, because of its shape, scatters rainbows in the shape of stars across the stone. Only once Hadama had placed his offering does the queen begin to light the various candles, sparking to life as many as she can despite the spray of the sea and the breezes which catch and douse the flames.

"Safrin? Babe if you aren't too busy can you come down and chat for a sec?"

Hadama had made good use of the Court's healing fountain upon his return, and spent his time recovering in the Underwater City until he was well enough to make the trek over land to the shrine beside his co-ruler. If his steps were slower than usual and he had new scars that had yet to receive their gilding on his skin, they did not speak of it. Instead there was discussion of the Flowerbirth weather and the state of the monsoon shield. Of a request for a new order of clay tablets for the Court of Stars, so that laws and proclamations could be taken down to the Underwater City when they were posted in Haulani. Of some recent graffiti that had appeared on the Lucky Rum Fountain, and whether some form of punishment was warranted.

But eventually they reached the island, and Hadama joined Flora in placing his offering - hair sticks carved from ebony, brushed in diamond dust and lacquered to a polished shine. Exquisite silver stars hung from their ends on chains as delicate as lace, each one a chime tuned to a different harmonious note. He brushed his hands reverently through the black sand of the isle and then rose, a little slower for the lingering aches in ribs so recently pummeled by Void-borne stones, and moved to help Flora light the candles.

"Safrin," he rumbled quietly in the wake of Flora's more casual request, solemn and reverent in the wake of the planting of another Lily on Starfall's soil.

But not proud. The Lily had been planted but the Mirewyrm had escaped them. For now. And his work, both there and here in Torchline, was far from finished.

"We seek your blessing for our home."

it's fine to fake it 'till you make it

Starlight touched the waves before her form did—ribbons of soft, silken light spilling across the sea, reaching fingers of luminescence toward the shrine before the goddess emerged. She rose with the tide, her bare feet brushing the black sand, her long hair billowing behind her like a comet’s tail. Draped in a gown that shimmered with the indigo hues of twilight, Safrin moved like a dream solidified into flesh.

Her gaze flickered first to the offerings: the scattering stars of Flora’s glass figurine, and the harmonious chime of Hadama’s star-laced hair sticks. Her lips curved with satisfaction, touched with fondness and pride. "You never disappoint," she murmured, reaching to trail her fingers through the dancing light of the figurine, then letting them drift toward the carved notes of the chimes.

Then her eyes found Hadama. A different warmth stole into her expression. Pride, yes—but something steadier too. "You did well," she said softly, her voice the hush of the tide on a quiet shore. "You stood where others might have fallen. You brought back not only hope, but proof that the void can be pushed back." With effortless grace, Safrin stepped close and lifted her hands to cradle his face. Her thumbs brushed the curve of his cheekbones, her touch tender but firm and pulsing with starlight. It poured from her hands and sank into his skin, the soft radiance spreading through every fracture and ache, chasing away bruises and phantom wounds. The pain in his ribs, the weariness in his bones—gone, replaced by the slow, humming resonance of divine grace. When she let go, the last of the shimmer clung to his skin like dew to stone.

Then she turned.

Her gaze settled on Flora, and for a breath it sharpened—just slightly. A flicker of restrained disappointment stirred in her eyes, not quite spoken but there all the same. Infection. A trick. A risk that did not need to be taken. But then her expression softened, and the smile that bloomed was laced with indulgence and approval both. "You always did like playing dangerous games," she said with a sigh, though her tone was far from scolding. "But I suppose I should expect no less from my little queen." Her fingers reached out, brushing lightly along Flora’s jaw, just enough to let a thread of warmth pass between them. "Well done."

Straightening, she glances at both Tidebreaker and Doubletake, a brow artfully raised. "And what are your plans now that you're both back and feeling like yourselves?"

'till you do. 'till it's true.

honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time

Flora tilts her chin, letting the warmth of Safrin’s touch linger like sunlight on skin after a storm. It hums under her cheekbone, subtle and satisfying, like being handed a gold coin with a wink. The look she gives the goddess in return is one part pride, one part deflection—because the sharpness hadn’t gone unnoticed, and Flora knows exactly what it’s for. "Well, y'know me," she says with a lazy shrug, curls dancing in the ocean breeze, "if there’s a reckless, ill-advised decision that could possibly pay off in the long run, I’m probably already halfway through it before someone tells me it’s a bad idea." Her smile comes slow and sideways, her voice rich with self-awareness and not a single drop of regret.

Then, casually—so casually—her hand dips into her pocket and comes back out with the vial. The blood glows faintly in the light of Safrin’s presence, as if it knows better than to misbehave in front of a goddess. Flora holds it up between thumb and forefinger, letting it catch the starlight before setting it down on the shrine’s stone with a deliberate little click. Then, rocking back on her heels, Flora folds her arms and glances sideways at Hadama. "We were hoping to block the Family from Torchline. We know that Vox might still be able to come by since he's...well, since he's different, but with this we were hoping that the others couldn't step into our lands."

His goddess arrived in grace and beauty, and Hadama straightened at her appearance, contentment warming his chest as she smiled at their offerings. But it was her words to him that woke the pride in him, reminding him that for all that they had left undone, they had still gained another foothold on the false island. He tilted his head into her touch, and her approval flowed into him on currents of starlight that soothed the remnants of the battle from his bones. "You gave me the power to stand strong," he rumbled quietly. "Thank you, Safrin."

But they were not here for him today. Nor were they even here for Flora, though he watched the interplay between goddess and queen with eyes that glowed a little with lingering starlight. "Hmm." Came the quiet hum of agreement to Flora's flippancy, though his gaze was warm with tolerant resignation.

But the vial she produced was proof that her actions might yet have been worth the great risk she had taken and the burdens she had placed upon her friends. Hadama studied the blood for a moment only before turning his gaze back to their goddess and inclining his head in support of his co-ruler's words. "We seek a way to keep their warriors at bay. And their feet from our shores."

it's fine to fake it 'till you make it

Safrin’s gaze lingered on the vial, the faint shimmer of Void-tainted blood reflecting in her eyes like a distorted constellation. For a moment she didn’t move, her expression unreadable—neither approving nor disapproving, but vast and distant, as if she were seeing beyond the vial, beyond the shrine, beyond even Caido itself. Then, slowly, she reached out. Her fingers didn’t touch the glass, but hovered just above it. The starlight around her flickered as though holding its breath. The blood inside the vial swirled languidly, tugged by the invisible gravity of her presence.

"A bold gamble," she murmured at last, though her voice had none of the sharpness it had held before. Instead, it was thoughtful. Heavy with calculation. "You are not wrong to want a further barrier. You are surrounded by sea, but the enemy does not come by sea alone."

Her eyes lifted to Flora’s, then shifted to Hadama’s. "You ask much. But you have both given much. Stolen pieces of the void. Broken ground on a cursed island. Risked your bodies and your names and, in some cases, your very souls." With a glance toward Flora, Safrin arches a brow. "Perhaps you ought to fill Hadama in on the remainder of your bargain with the Reaper?" With a final look between her devoted Tidebreaker and luminous queen, the goddess began to fade. Starlight pulled inward, collapsing like a dying star until only a shimmer of divine heat remained in the salt-tinged air—then even that was gone, leaving the shrine dimmer in her wake, and the sea hushed in reverence.

---

Torchline has received a RQ!

Tasks. There is no time limit. There are currently 14 active Torchers. This means 7 unique characters have to participate. Characters can participate more than once. Hadama and Flora must participate in at least 2 threads each.

1. A thread of at least 3 torchers (including 1 mer) gathering stones from the Rainbow Road
2. A ME to decide whether the coast or haulani should be protected
3. A PQ placing stones all around the chosen area.. Must have 8 rounds in total.
4. A thread with at least 1 torcher capturing a physical piece of a member of the Family.

~FIN

'till you do. 'till it's true.