we show off our different scarlet letters
The music swells, dusk-tinted and decadent, as Flora turns with a cocktail in one hand and a grin already blooming across her lips.
As Dantalion arrives like a sunbeam that knows it’s too bright—barrelling into the Hanged Man with the force of someone who’s never asked permission for anything in his life. "If you steal my cocktails, at least give them a hotter name than ‘Tear Shots.’ You can’t make people cry and then not give it better branding." Flora laughs, tossing a wink. "And I was born ready for trouble. Just make sure you’re still standing by the time the moon’s up, hmm?"
Not far behind him, Astaroth materializes like a storm dressed in slate. Flora clocks the waistcoat with interest (and the lack of anything under it), her red lips curving in open appreciation. "You’re both giving me heatstroke," she drawls, just loud enough to be heard over the band. Asta’s compliment earns an enthusiastic twirl, her heels clicking as she turns in place.
Behind the bar, Calypso gleams gold and efficient, a blade disguised as a beauty queen. When she brandishes her own copper tin with a wink and a grin, Flora lifts her glass in surrender. Caly’s presence behind the bar is both comfort and command—when Flora’s gone, she knows exactly who’s in charge.
Maea ’s entrance quiets Flora’s mind just enough for clarity to slip in. The box catches her attention before anything else, the pale ribbon a beacon. "Ooooo," she breathes as she accepts it. The star-shaped lantern inside draws a genuine, radiant smile from her, soft around the edges in a way few get to see. "This is beautiful. Maea. You really didn't need to get me anything." But the delight on her face suggests she's very pleased that the ancient did. "Oh pfft. What I prefer is flirting, cocktails, and not going home alone."
Then: Mateo . Gods. Flora actually laughs aloud the moment she sees him—a glitterbomb of body glitter, gold coins, and pink. "You’re going to make me cry," she warns, pulling him in for a hug with one arm still holding her drink. "Also how dare you show up looking better than I do at my own party??" Her voice is warm, teasing, and affectionate.
Wait, did her brother and Vesper know each other?
Before the Doubletake can investigate, her eyes catch onTheea like a fishhook. The wrapped skirt, the too-careful steps, the charcoal-smudged drawing held too tight in one hand. Flora sees the nerves, the hesitation, the weight of silence wrapped around her shoulders like a long-lost cardigan. Waving an unnecessary goodbye to the person mid-conversation with her, Flora turns and crosses the room, heels loud and proud on the floor. "You came!" she says with a grin, voice dropping low and warm. "And you look amazing." She doesn’t let Theea spiral, doesn’t let her retreat—just swoops in to press a quick kiss to the girl’s cheek and whisper, "I’m super glad you're here."
As Dantalion arrives like a sunbeam that knows it’s too bright—barrelling into the Hanged Man with the force of someone who’s never asked permission for anything in his life. "If you steal my cocktails, at least give them a hotter name than ‘Tear Shots.’ You can’t make people cry and then not give it better branding." Flora laughs, tossing a wink. "And I was born ready for trouble. Just make sure you’re still standing by the time the moon’s up, hmm?"
Not far behind him, Astaroth materializes like a storm dressed in slate. Flora clocks the waistcoat with interest (and the lack of anything under it), her red lips curving in open appreciation. "You’re both giving me heatstroke," she drawls, just loud enough to be heard over the band. Asta’s compliment earns an enthusiastic twirl, her heels clicking as she turns in place.
Behind the bar, Calypso gleams gold and efficient, a blade disguised as a beauty queen. When she brandishes her own copper tin with a wink and a grin, Flora lifts her glass in surrender. Caly’s presence behind the bar is both comfort and command—when Flora’s gone, she knows exactly who’s in charge.
Maea ’s entrance quiets Flora’s mind just enough for clarity to slip in. The box catches her attention before anything else, the pale ribbon a beacon. "Ooooo," she breathes as she accepts it. The star-shaped lantern inside draws a genuine, radiant smile from her, soft around the edges in a way few get to see. "This is beautiful. Maea. You really didn't need to get me anything." But the delight on her face suggests she's very pleased that the ancient did. "Oh pfft. What I prefer is flirting, cocktails, and not going home alone."
Then: Mateo . Gods. Flora actually laughs aloud the moment she sees him—a glitterbomb of body glitter, gold coins, and pink. "You’re going to make me cry," she warns, pulling him in for a hug with one arm still holding her drink. "Also how dare you show up looking better than I do at my own party??" Her voice is warm, teasing, and affectionate.
Wait, did her brother and Vesper know each other?
Before the Doubletake can investigate, her eyes catch on
