flora
Flora’s eyes go wide—scandalized wide—as she nods, hair bouncing like each curl has its own opinion. "Oh, he absolutely did," she huffs. "Dropped a line and just slid down onto my deck like it was still his, before having Bassian throw all my shit down to me." The next sigh that escapes her is sharper than it should be, more breath than sound, then she grins, too bright, too sharp. "So yes. I think the option where I get to shoot him is sounding better by the second."
She bends to snag another stone and tosses it into Mel’s bucket with unnecessary flourish. "Though I probably need to not suck at flying first. Kinda hard to shoot the Ark if I’m crashing every time I hit the accelerator."
At the mention of Hadama’s manta lectures, she snorts, grinning sidelong at her friend. "Exactly that energy. Every time we meet about the canals, it turns into a whole TED talk about regional biodiversity and silt displacement."
Winking, she resumes lobbing rocks with casual precision, bobbing her head in agreement at Mel’s chosen measurement. "Right. One shit-ton it is."
She bends to snag another stone and tosses it into Mel’s bucket with unnecessary flourish. "Though I probably need to not suck at flying first. Kinda hard to shoot the Ark if I’m crashing every time I hit the accelerator."
At the mention of Hadama’s manta lectures, she snorts, grinning sidelong at her friend. "Exactly that energy. Every time we meet about the canals, it turns into a whole TED talk about regional biodiversity and silt displacement."
Winking, she resumes lobbing rocks with casual precision, bobbing her head in agreement at Mel’s chosen measurement. "Right. One shit-ton it is."
damn they don't make them like this anymore
