marked me like a bloodstain
The morning stroll through King's End had been just the kind of quiet Flora thought she needed—enough silence to let her mind wander, and just enough fresh air to help chase away the echoes of Jack’s absence that still clung stubbornly to her like salt on skin. Approaching the House of Midnight, Flora pauses in the dappled sunlight filtering through the newly-bloomed branches overhead, her gaze drawn to the figure of Sunjata bent in quiet concentration over the porch repairs.
She freezes mid-step, eyes widening slightly as a strange shiver ripples down her spine. For just a split second, Flora sees something more than just the Flood's familiar face and tattooed skin. Shadows ripple around him, an eerie echo of darkness, tendrils of the void curling softly from his silhouette, flickering as if caught on a breeze that isn't there—an image unsettling enough to stop her breath.
Flora blinks rapidly, the vision dissipating like morning mist, leaving only the Flood and the rhythmic tap-tap of his hammer against wood. She forces a quick smile back onto her face, smoothing a hand through her hair as she approaches, determinedly ignoring the lingering unease prickling beneath her skin.
"Morning," Flora calls lightly, her voice infused with a casual brightness that’s only a little forced. "You know, I always thought you just posed dramatically around here—I had no idea you actually did real work." There's a teasing sparkle to her gaze as she stops just at the bottom of the steps, glancing from the repaired beam back up to Sunjata with raised eyebrows, carefully masking the faint flicker of concern that lingers behind her smile.
She freezes mid-step, eyes widening slightly as a strange shiver ripples down her spine. For just a split second, Flora sees something more than just the Flood's familiar face and tattooed skin. Shadows ripple around him, an eerie echo of darkness, tendrils of the void curling softly from his silhouette, flickering as if caught on a breeze that isn't there—an image unsettling enough to stop her breath.
Flora blinks rapidly, the vision dissipating like morning mist, leaving only the Flood and the rhythmic tap-tap of his hammer against wood. She forces a quick smile back onto her face, smoothing a hand through her hair as she approaches, determinedly ignoring the lingering unease prickling beneath her skin.
"Morning," Flora calls lightly, her voice infused with a casual brightness that’s only a little forced. "You know, I always thought you just posed dramatically around here—I had no idea you actually did real work." There's a teasing sparkle to her gaze as she stops just at the bottom of the steps, glancing from the repaired beam back up to Sunjata with raised eyebrows, carefully masking the faint flicker of concern that lingers behind her smile.
