lay your soul onto mine
One of the most difficult things about being banned from half of Torchline was that it meant Flora couldn’t just go get things anymore. Case in point: gummy worms. The queen had to send someone else into town to hunt down the specific bag Kaisel had demanded requested, bright and sugary and probably infused with enough dye to make him shit colours fo a week. When they’d asked if she wanted anything else while they were there, the queen’s eyes had narrowed, an idea taking root in her smile like a particularly unholy bloom.
Cut to the Doubletake storming down the dock in a flowy sundress that was doing absolutely nothing to disguise the fire in her step. The fabric fluttered with each stride, a whirlwind of hibiscus pink and palm-leaf green that clashed beautifully with the sunny morning behind her. Her blonde braid was wound tight like a noose down her back, her jewellery catching the light as she marched, arms loaded with a paper bag far too large to just be sweets.
She spotted Kaisel before he spotted her—which was fitting, really, for the dramatics she intended to unleash upon him. He was leaning against the railing like he was trying to blend into the scenery, hot-pink shorts practically screaming in protest, sunglasses tilted at that dumb just-so angle like it could shield him from what was coming. Spoiler alert, it couldn’t.
"Kaisel," she snapped as she reached him, her index finger poking into his shoulder with an accusatory jab. "You can pick sour or hot. Those are your only options for your punishment."
She didn’t elaborate. Just stared him down from behind oversized sunglasses, her voice chipper but edged like sea glass.
Cut to the Doubletake storming down the dock in a flowy sundress that was doing absolutely nothing to disguise the fire in her step. The fabric fluttered with each stride, a whirlwind of hibiscus pink and palm-leaf green that clashed beautifully with the sunny morning behind her. Her blonde braid was wound tight like a noose down her back, her jewellery catching the light as she marched, arms loaded with a paper bag far too large to just be sweets.
She spotted Kaisel before he spotted her—which was fitting, really, for the dramatics she intended to unleash upon him. He was leaning against the railing like he was trying to blend into the scenery, hot-pink shorts practically screaming in protest, sunglasses tilted at that dumb just-so angle like it could shield him from what was coming. Spoiler alert, it couldn’t.
"Kaisel," she snapped as she reached him, her index finger poking into his shoulder with an accusatory jab. "You can pick sour or hot. Those are your only options for your punishment."
She didn’t elaborate. Just stared him down from behind oversized sunglasses, her voice chipper but edged like sea glass.
