flora
Flora is in her element.
LongNight has the Hanged Man packed to the rafters, the air thick with laughter and music, the clink of glasses and the hum of drunken conversations overlapping in a way that would be overwhelming if it weren’t so familiar. The bar itself practically pulses with life, and though Flora could let her staff handle the chaos, she’s never been the type to just sit back and watch.
Which is why, despite the crush of patrons demanding drinks and the occasional flirtatious attempt to tug her into the festivities, she’s the one who sweeps a glass of water off the counter, flashing the bartender a quick grin before slipping through the crowd with effortless ease.
"Alright, who the hell ordered—" She cuts off mid-sentence as her gaze lands on the woman waiting at the bar.
Not a local, that much is clear. The soft neutrals, the simple outfit, the lack of glitter or flashing jewelry that most LongNight revelers had embraced—it all makes her stand out in a way that’s almost ironic. She doesn’t quite fit the scene, and yet, something about her presence is deliberate. Unshaken.
Flora tilts her head, curiosity flickering through her features before she smoothly sets the glass down in front of the woman. "Hate to break it to you, babe, but I think you’re in the wrong bar if you’re trying to stay sober tonight," she teases, her grin playful but not unkind. Folding her arms against the bartop, she lifts a brow, clearly interested. "Not a fan of LongNight partying, or just not a fan of Torchline?"
LongNight has the Hanged Man packed to the rafters, the air thick with laughter and music, the clink of glasses and the hum of drunken conversations overlapping in a way that would be overwhelming if it weren’t so familiar. The bar itself practically pulses with life, and though Flora could let her staff handle the chaos, she’s never been the type to just sit back and watch.
Which is why, despite the crush of patrons demanding drinks and the occasional flirtatious attempt to tug her into the festivities, she’s the one who sweeps a glass of water off the counter, flashing the bartender a quick grin before slipping through the crowd with effortless ease.
"Alright, who the hell ordered—" She cuts off mid-sentence as her gaze lands on the woman waiting at the bar.
Not a local, that much is clear. The soft neutrals, the simple outfit, the lack of glitter or flashing jewelry that most LongNight revelers had embraced—it all makes her stand out in a way that’s almost ironic. She doesn’t quite fit the scene, and yet, something about her presence is deliberate. Unshaken.
Flora tilts her head, curiosity flickering through her features before she smoothly sets the glass down in front of the woman. "Hate to break it to you, babe, but I think you’re in the wrong bar if you’re trying to stay sober tonight," she teases, her grin playful but not unkind. Folding her arms against the bartop, she lifts a brow, clearly interested. "Not a fan of LongNight partying, or just not a fan of Torchline?"
Flexing like a goddamn acrobat
Me and karma vibe like that
Me and karma vibe like that
