[PQ+] don't matter the weather if we're standing together

your battle worn tongue doesn't say the truth anymore;
/// that you are ruined ///

As she starts opening up the crates of glasses, she finds a few that are functional and the harpy is pleased with that result. But as she delves further into it, she spies the broken glasses with a quiet little groan. Carefully plucking the pieces out to set them aside, she lets Flora know and snags a piece of parchment and a pen to scribble down the pieces that were broken, comparing them to the list of what they were to receive to help make the process easier for Flora.

And once that’s all done, she returns to the gathering from everyone, perking up with the name options. Parroting after Danta’s own ideas, she snickers softly behind her hand. “Those two are my favorites too, but I’m leaning toward The Last Word.” She winces, knowing that it doesn’t help the voting process any – but maybe Flora and Kai will have to be the tie-breaker.

---

Kiada votes for The Last Word!

kiada

and you wonder why he lets you, the butcher ///
touch him, the sun ///

Kaisel

Haters on my back like a backpack

Having trusted a fart once before and regretting it, Kaisel doesn't run the risk of it here and now as his guts complain abruptly. Cutting loose from the soldiers briefly to find the nearest toilet before he unloads right in the freshly repaired canal, Kaisel dashes away for a time. Having made room, he's more than happy to mow down the fish tacos, aside from the irritating need to reach a spot on his back that's impossible to reach, y'know, because of his muscles getting in the way and all. Just short of bothering Flora for her nails, he settles on one of the stool legs to serve as a back scratcher while he moves and puts together the furniture.

Sadly, that doesn't seem to fully do the trick, the way an itch on your palm isn't satisfied unless you scrape it with your teeth. There's also the fact that he has to give up this leg eventually, although he does save it for the very last in a hopeful holdout.

Shifting back and forth against one of the newly put together booths, doing his best imitation of Baloo from The Jungle Book, Kai listens to their next order of business. "Unhelpfully," he starts, grunting as he shimmies up and down to scratch at his back. "I most prefer The TellTale, although The Last Word is my second choice."

---

Kai votes for The TellTale

Blowin' up I'm fucking flawless

I'd burn my house down just to hear them scream my name

Flora watches them each pick a different name, and for a second she simply stands there, champagne-bright eyes moving from Danta to Kiada to Kai with her arms folding slowly over her chest. "Wow," she says with a playful roll of her eyes. The look she gives them is severe for approximately half a second before it cracks, laughter slipping through as she turns toward one of the crates she’d very intentionally left unopened until now. Taking up a crowbar, Flora wedges it beneath the lid and pries it free with considerably less flair than Kai would have managed (though given how busy he was itching himself, maybe he wouldn't have imagined anything at all), though she makes up for it by pulling out a bottle that looks old enough to have seen at least two major world wars.

Glancing toward Kiada, Flora lifts her brows. "Since you put the glassware away, can you grab us four champagne flutes?"

By the time the glasses are gathered, Flora’s already grinning, giving the bottle just enough of a shake to make the eventual pop feel less like an opening and more like a threat fulfilled. The cork fires free with a sharp, satisfying crack, bubbles spilling down the side of the old glass and over her fingers as she laughs, bright and pleased and entirely unbothered by the mess.

"To The Last Word," she announces. Pouring champagne into each flute, Flora lifts her own once they’re filled, gold rings catching against the glass as her gaze moves across the almost-bar around them. "May it burn less dramatically, gossip more effectively, and survive absolutely everyone who thinks they should get the final say."

---

Last round! Cheers! Thanks all!

Whoever posts last can fin

I've carried hopes & heavy day dreams, but i'm all done with sleepin'

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

your battle worn tongue doesn't say the truth anymore;
/// that you are ruined ///

An innocent, fanged grin is shot toward Flora as she levels her serious gaze at them, unworried despite what the look might suggest. And as she breaks into a laugh and picks up a crowbar and pries open the lid of the crate in question, Kiada’s laugh joins in. The bottle retrieved looks old and by extension is probably divine, and when the question is aimed her way the harpy nods. “Sure!”

Slipping away, Kia collects four of the champagne flutes, returning and handing the glasses out so that they can be filled when Flora’s done opening the bottle. The cork explodes, champagne glittering around in a foamy mess that has Kiada snorting softly as she gets her glass filled.

Surveying all the work they did, her tail twitches at her heels as she nods and raises her glass in a toast to cheer all the hard work. “To The Last Word.” She parrots before she’s downing the sip of the champagne very contently with the aged quality of it.

kiada

and you wonder why he lets you, the butcher ///
touch him, the sun ///

Kaisel

Haters on my back like a backpack

There's something to the first spill in your brand new bar being one you put there. Gets the inevitable out of the way with a sense of purpose and full control, that way you never have to hold your breath with all the waiting. It's always the first that matters, which is a strange notion in a place deemed The Last Word.

Briefly forgetting the intolerable itch between his shoulder blades, Kaisel whoops with the pop of the cork and the celebratory foam that speckles the ground. It's an effervescent delight, the sense of accomplishment, but more than that, he knows this is reclaiming something. His gaze slips over to her over the full arc of a smile as champagne begins to flow, and as he reaches for his glass he grabs her gaze for a moment, stealing her for just a breath. I'm proud of you. Not for building a bar, because this is so much more. It's for arranging a suitable narrative, for setting the tone, and deciding her future would not be framed by ruin, but by weathered leather and glass panels that welcome the sea.

Laughing faintly with the easy joy of christening the newest hot spot in town, Kaisel lifts his flute up into the group cheers. "To The Last Word!" he proudly proclaims alongside the rest, tipping his sip back just as a shudder of discomfort sketches up his spine and seends him backing up to his scratching post again.

---

Kai cheers!

Blowin' up I'm fucking flawless

// the kinda wrong that make you feel right //

Raising his eyebrows and fully accepting Flora's consequences - which turn out to be little more than amused laughter - Danta offers a broad grin and a nod of easy acceptance as she decides for them what the name of her new bar will be. "Should have called it The Second Choice," he jests, though of course they all know this bar - and anything Flora creates - would never be considered as such.

Accepting the champagne flute that Kiada arranges and raising impressed brows at the vintage champagne the Hot Take produces, Danta also raises his glass high in a toast. "To The Last Word," he declares, almost in time with Kaisel and Kiada. He doesn't sip demurely at his champagne (who do you think he is) but tips the glass back to enjoy it in a single swallow.

And that, after all their hard work, seems like the beginning of a very fine evening indeed.

~FIN

Dantalion

// the little death that make you feel alive //