i'll rig the game for you

Flora

"Ugh, trust me, you don't want to know," Flora huffs. Quite why she was still protecting Jack wasn't a question that she could readily answer other than to say that at least while she'd fucked up, she'd never intentionally been an asshole the way he had.

Plucking up the folded note with a mix of reverence and dramatic flair, Flora holds it up to the light as though it might reveal some ancient secret rather than the aviator's painstakingly neat instructions. "Ever’s handwriting is so tidy it stresses me out," she mutters affectionately, unfolding it with care. "I can already feel it judging my life choices."

She scans the page quickly, brows lifting as she finds where Mateo left off. "Step four: Confirm rudder calibration using the side dial until resistance matches the wind gauge average. Gods, Ever, could you sound more like a sea captain crossed with a maths tutor?"

With a huff, she locates the side dial, adjusting it with careful fingers. "Okay. Resistance is... resisting? I think we’re good." A pause. "Wait, is it supposed to feel like this? Mateo?" She glances over her shoulder, curls whipping in the breeze as she casts him an arched-brow look.

'Cause I'm a real tough kid, I can handle my shit
They said, "Babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and I did

Code stolen from Queen Sky