flora
Flora arches a brow as Kaisel drapes the feather boa around his neck, gaze tracking the slow, exaggerated twirl like she's trying to decide if he's dressing up for strip poker or against it. At the comment about Bassian and heights, her laughter bubbles out like a shaken soda can, her affection toward the sleeping moose in the other room abundantly clear. "The Ark only started flying in the last two years," she explains. "Before that it was all waves and whining. You should hear him climb the rigging—it’s like someone strangling a walrus."
His grimace at go fish earns another eye-roll, this one fond and full of michief. "It’s go fish with sex positions, genius," she clarifies. "And frankly, might be worth borrowing if you're gonna keep pace with someone like Caly." She flashes him a grin that’s sharp and delighted, before adding, "Speaking of—how’d your evening go after my party?" Is Flora go-fishing for info about whether or not the dragoon and her newest bartender are a thing? Shutup, but also maybe.
Sliding into the bench beside across from him, Flora tucks one bare leg across his thigh again like it’s the most natural thing in the world, her heel bumping the side of his hip. She’s all sprawled comfort and chaotic charm, scooping an orange-red gummy worm and theatrically slorp-ing it into her mouth before spitting half of it back out like a serpent tongue. Her eyes twinkle as she sets up her side of the game before, already focused on card-flipping and character judging.
Flora doesn't ask if she can go first, she just does. "Alright. Does your person seem like they'd pick mayo if they were a condiment?" Her voice drips with playful scorn.
His grimace at go fish earns another eye-roll, this one fond and full of michief. "It’s go fish with sex positions, genius," she clarifies. "And frankly, might be worth borrowing if you're gonna keep pace with someone like Caly." She flashes him a grin that’s sharp and delighted, before adding, "Speaking of—how’d your evening go after my party?" Is Flora go-fishing for info about whether or not the dragoon and her newest bartender are a thing? Shutup, but also maybe.
Sliding into the bench beside across from him, Flora tucks one bare leg across his thigh again like it’s the most natural thing in the world, her heel bumping the side of his hip. She’s all sprawled comfort and chaotic charm, scooping an orange-red gummy worm and theatrically slorp-ing it into her mouth before spitting half of it back out like a serpent tongue. Her eyes twinkle as she sets up her side of the game before, already focused on card-flipping and character judging.
Flora doesn't ask if she can go first, she just does. "Alright. Does your person seem like they'd pick mayo if they were a condiment?" Her voice drips with playful scorn.
My house of stone, your ivy grows
And now I'm covered in you
And now I'm covered in you
