know i'll stay beside that telephone line
Leafchange brings with it a muted sunlight over the whole of Torchline. One that Calypso mirrors in the way she also seems particularly dimmed despite how she’s currently reorganizing the cupboard by the door on the inside of the bar - knelt below the new stained glass window that’s been put in the perfect spot to let the golden stained appearance filter across the bar in gilded and red light.
It’s apparently perfectly placed, however, because as she hears the familiar voice of Flora, something in her stirs. She remains knelt for a few moments longer, exhaling slowly to ready herself, before she’s standing - flashing Flora a sunny smile that’s dripping in gold and red from the stained glass as it offers all the light that she feels has been snuffed out as of late.
Like a candle shaken where the flame isn’t as strong, she’s sure it’ll come back once the ground beneath her feet finally settles. “Hey Flora. Comin’ right up.” She doesn’t even respond to the comment of putting herself back on payroll, even if the thought crosses her mind sure, take it back too.
Instead, she snags the mixing glass and a few particular bottles that don’t get that much use these days, but she’d asked for something scandalous, and Caly’s happy to provide. In the mixing glass goes rye whiskey, a botanical bitters, cognac, and a sugar cube amongst the ice. And as she mixes it, she lets her left hand stir while she snags a rocks glass, spritzing the inside with a dose of absinthe before putting the ice cubes within it. Popping a strainer on the mixing glass, she pours it into the glass and garnishes it with a twist of a lemon peel.
The liquid is dark and amber, not unlike her eyes that flit up to meet the Queen’s face as she slides the glass over toward her. “S’called a Sazerac. Perfectly scandalous if y’ask me.” Then, without much more, she gets to work cleaning up.
It’s apparently perfectly placed, however, because as she hears the familiar voice of Flora, something in her stirs. She remains knelt for a few moments longer, exhaling slowly to ready herself, before she’s standing - flashing Flora a sunny smile that’s dripping in gold and red from the stained glass as it offers all the light that she feels has been snuffed out as of late.
Like a candle shaken where the flame isn’t as strong, she’s sure it’ll come back once the ground beneath her feet finally settles. “Hey Flora. Comin’ right up.” She doesn’t even respond to the comment of putting herself back on payroll, even if the thought crosses her mind sure, take it back too.
Instead, she snags the mixing glass and a few particular bottles that don’t get that much use these days, but she’d asked for something scandalous, and Caly’s happy to provide. In the mixing glass goes rye whiskey, a botanical bitters, cognac, and a sugar cube amongst the ice. And as she mixes it, she lets her left hand stir while she snags a rocks glass, spritzing the inside with a dose of absinthe before putting the ice cubes within it. Popping a strainer on the mixing glass, she pours it into the glass and garnishes it with a twist of a lemon peel.
The liquid is dark and amber, not unlike her eyes that flit up to meet the Queen’s face as she slides the glass over toward her. “S’called a Sazerac. Perfectly scandalous if y’ask me.” Then, without much more, she gets to work cleaning up.
Calypso
and tomorrow we might steal the sun from underneath our eyes
