honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time
For a moment, Flora is quiet, letting Dahlia's laughter and threats wash over her like seawater across sun-warmed stone. Then she tilts her head, lashes lowering briefly as she strokes the stem of her wine glass. "That sounds more like your problem than mine," she says, gently—almost sweetly. "If the Family doesn't have a way to keep people from recognizing their own, maybe that’s something worth fixing. After all, you're all very powerful, aren't you?" A shrug rolls off her shoulders with an elegance that belies the tension humming in her spine.
But it's the next part that has her stilling. Flora’s fingers pause on the glass, her gaze sharpening slightly, thoughtfully, as she regards the Reaper across the candlelit desk. "Mmm, no guarantee," she echoes softly, almost to herself, before her smile returns—smaller, cooler, but no less present. "If you could go around killing anyone you wanted to, I imagine you would’ve done it already." Her voice is calm, careful, but there’s a quiet steel underneath it. "But you haven’t. You didn’t kill Sunjata, or Hotaru. You infected them. Quietly. Easily. You didn’t kill Ronin either, and not because you couldn’t—you threatened him instead. And then you let him go home." Pausing, her head tilts to the side. "Jack and I admittedly you caught, but those around me as you might have noticed tend not to stay dead for very long."
Her eyes meet Dahlia’s across the flickering candlelight, sea-bright and steady. "So maybe you’re not as invincible as you want people to believe. Maybe you’re strong—but not stronger than all of Caido put together. Which means you have to be strategic, too. You have to choose where to place your pieces."
Flora reaches out and lifts the vial between her fingers, holding it delicately, almost reverently. "This might be your last chance to put someone useful on the board. Someone close to every other leader in Caido. Someone you could actually do something with." Because as Vox had no doubt surmised for the Reaper, the big hitters of Caido were getting ready.
She meets Dahlia’s eyes and raises the vial ever so slightly.
"That said, I agree to your terms. Do we have a deal?"
But it's the next part that has her stilling. Flora’s fingers pause on the glass, her gaze sharpening slightly, thoughtfully, as she regards the Reaper across the candlelit desk. "Mmm, no guarantee," she echoes softly, almost to herself, before her smile returns—smaller, cooler, but no less present. "If you could go around killing anyone you wanted to, I imagine you would’ve done it already." Her voice is calm, careful, but there’s a quiet steel underneath it. "But you haven’t. You didn’t kill Sunjata, or Hotaru. You infected them. Quietly. Easily. You didn’t kill Ronin either, and not because you couldn’t—you threatened him instead. And then you let him go home." Pausing, her head tilts to the side. "Jack and I admittedly you caught, but those around me as you might have noticed tend not to stay dead for very long."
Her eyes meet Dahlia’s across the flickering candlelight, sea-bright and steady. "So maybe you’re not as invincible as you want people to believe. Maybe you’re strong—but not stronger than all of Caido put together. Which means you have to be strategic, too. You have to choose where to place your pieces."
Flora reaches out and lifts the vial between her fingers, holding it delicately, almost reverently. "This might be your last chance to put someone useful on the board. Someone close to every other leader in Caido. Someone you could actually do something with." Because as Vox had no doubt surmised for the Reaper, the big hitters of Caido were getting ready.
She meets Dahlia’s eyes and raises the vial ever so slightly.
"That said, I agree to your terms. Do we have a deal?"
