Flora
Flora hums in confirmation, tilting her head as she stretches out a little on the couch, one arm draping lazily over the back. "Yeah, Ludo used to call him the Lullaby, but I guess at some point decided he was boring, so now he’s Mort’s and goes by the Bastion instead." It's all a touch boredly said, as if the idea of gods just swapping around their chosen ones like pieces on a board was only mildly interesting at this point.
She laughs outright at Niki’s quiet remark about visitation limits, shaking her head. Her grin sharpens as he mentions the need to understand and improve. "Kinda sounds like The Voice, actually." There’s no edge or accusation behind her smile. Though the war had taken Enzo from her, Flora couldn't blame the goddess for the things people did in her name. At least, not without knowing a good deal more about the nitty-gritty of it all than she actually did.
Her gaze flickers back around the room, still cataloging the little details, before she huffs a soft laugh. "Ghosts, huh? Convenient." Turning, Flora ruffles her fingers through her curls before finally starting to shift out of her coat. "You know, I sorta thought you might have been a ghost when I first met you."
She doesn’t snoop while he’s gone—something of a rarity for her, really—but when he returns, she lifts a brow as she takes in the way the sweater drapes loosely over his frame, the contrast between the warm dark green and his pale skin. If he wasn’t so sickly looking, she might call it effortlessly elegant, in a kind of quiet, bookish way.
At his offer, Flora shakes her head, stretching her legs out comfortably. "Nah, if either of us get cold, I’ll just toss a few more logs on."
She laughs outright at Niki’s quiet remark about visitation limits, shaking her head. Her grin sharpens as he mentions the need to understand and improve. "Kinda sounds like The Voice, actually." There’s no edge or accusation behind her smile. Though the war had taken Enzo from her, Flora couldn't blame the goddess for the things people did in her name. At least, not without knowing a good deal more about the nitty-gritty of it all than she actually did.
Her gaze flickers back around the room, still cataloging the little details, before she huffs a soft laugh. "Ghosts, huh? Convenient." Turning, Flora ruffles her fingers through her curls before finally starting to shift out of her coat. "You know, I sorta thought you might have been a ghost when I first met you."
She doesn’t snoop while he’s gone—something of a rarity for her, really—but when he returns, she lifts a brow as she takes in the way the sweater drapes loosely over his frame, the contrast between the warm dark green and his pale skin. If he wasn’t so sickly looking, she might call it effortlessly elegant, in a kind of quiet, bookish way.
At his offer, Flora shakes her head, stretching her legs out comfortably. "Nah, if either of us get cold, I’ll just toss a few more logs on."
Fatefully, I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
Code stolen from Queen Sky
