karma's a relaxing thought, aren't you envious that for you it's not?
A flat stretch of beach has been cleared just enough to make space for the chaos to come. Palettes of cool, Halovian lumber rest to one side, stacked neatly like someone had actually planned this (it wasn’t her). Large bins line the other side, filled with nails, bolts, hinges, and tools she can name about half of. In the middle, like a shrine to distraction and charm, a long table holds chilled drinks sweating in the heat and baskets of snacks both practical and indulgent—fresh fruit, salted crackers, a few too many sweets, and something fizzy that smells vaguely like coconut and recklessness.
She tugs her sarong higher on her hip, adjusting it as Spice flutters past her ear and then circles overhead, already eyeing the snack table like a tiny dragon of indulgence. Flora presses her hand to her chest for a second—just long enough to slow the flutter in her ribs, then she breathes it out.
The waiting doesn’t last long. One by one, they’ll arrive: familiar footsteps in warm sand, laughter carried on sea wind. Every face is one she chose, handpicked with purpose, love, and the kind of loyalty that digs deeper than driftwood roots. Neither Jack nor Kaisel has been invited, and she's not sure which absence hits hardest, but she buries both beneath a coral-pink smile.
When enough of them are gathered—when the laughter begins to stitch itself into the air like thread through fabric—Flora steps up onto one of the palettes like it’s a stage and she’s been rehearsing for this moment her whole life. "Okay!" she calls out, lifting both arms for attention, curls gleaming like spun gold in the sun. "Before we all start pretending we know how to use power tools, I just want to say—thank you."
Her voice wavers, but only a little. Just enough for those who know her to hear it. "This isn’t just a house. It's...a fresh start." Her gaze skims over them, warm and bright. "Also, there's snacks. And I promise I’ll try really hard not to get in the way while all the strong, capable people do the actual building."
PQ+ to build Flora's Malibu Barbie Dream House!
1. Flora (but with Remi as an NPC)
2. Sohalia
3. Astaroth (but w/ Sunny as an NPC)
4. Nikandr (but w/ Danta/Mateo/Ronin as an NPC)
She tugs her sarong higher on her hip, adjusting it as Spice flutters past her ear and then circles overhead, already eyeing the snack table like a tiny dragon of indulgence. Flora presses her hand to her chest for a second—just long enough to slow the flutter in her ribs, then she breathes it out.
The waiting doesn’t last long. One by one, they’ll arrive: familiar footsteps in warm sand, laughter carried on sea wind. Every face is one she chose, handpicked with purpose, love, and the kind of loyalty that digs deeper than driftwood roots. Neither Jack nor Kaisel has been invited, and she's not sure which absence hits hardest, but she buries both beneath a coral-pink smile.
When enough of them are gathered—when the laughter begins to stitch itself into the air like thread through fabric—Flora steps up onto one of the palettes like it’s a stage and she’s been rehearsing for this moment her whole life. "Okay!" she calls out, lifting both arms for attention, curls gleaming like spun gold in the sun. "Before we all start pretending we know how to use power tools, I just want to say—thank you."
Her voice wavers, but only a little. Just enough for those who know her to hear it. "This isn’t just a house. It's...a fresh start." Her gaze skims over them, warm and bright. "Also, there's snacks. And I promise I’ll try really hard not to get in the way while all the strong, capable people do the actual building."
PQ+ to build Flora's Malibu Barbie Dream House!
1. Flora (but with Remi as an NPC)
2. Sohalia
3. Astaroth (but w/ Sunny as an NPC)
4. Nikandr (but w/ Danta/Mateo/Ronin as an NPC)
