Theea
Yla
to love life, to love it —
I cross my arms at Damien ’s smirk, trying on my best haughty look. Still, when he hands me the smaller hammer, I can’t help but toss it once and catch it with a grin. “I definitely thought I’d need something more heavy-duty.” Truth is, the last time I helped build anything I was small enough that “helping” meant holding nails for Dad and trying not to drop them in the sand.
I crouch beside Damien, balancing on my toes, heels braced, my whole body bent toward movement like I might spring up at any second. But when he starts explaining, my brain shifts gears. This is my house. If I’m going to do this, I want to do it right. I listen carefully, watching the way his hands move as much as the words he says.
When he shakes his head at Caly’s antics on the roof, I flick a glance up too, a small stab of worry catching me until I notice he doesn’t look concerned at all. I set to hammering at my corner—slower than Damien’s easy precision, but steady. I only whack my thumb once, and it’s definitely not because I got distracted staring at his hands trying to figure out how he goes so steadily.
My head shoots up at the sound of wild commotion inside and cringe. "Flora!" I shout, unsure if she can hear me. "You good?"
At the window, Remi’s extra limbs hoist Ronin up easily, the crowbar biting into wood and splintered frame as he works. The glass gives way without much of a fight, but not without mess—shards spill like glittering rain, catching in the sand... and his husband's curls. Sharp, inconvenient, and annoying to pick out. And then of course, there's no missing the commotion that clatters to life in the house.
On the roof, Calypso 's broomshake earns her an ear-splitting squawk as the hel flaps away in dramatic offense. Her brandishing seems to confuse the flock; they fluff and caw louder, as though personally insulted, a chorus of squawking sea-chickens putting on a show of wounded pride. They fly up to the surrounding palm trees, heads cocked in almost comical curiosity. Pal? Pest? They don’t seem to know either. A two squawk in surprise and flap away when chaotic noise breaks out below.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Flora proves herself brilliant. Spice’s icy breath spills into the oven, stunning the creature inside long enough for invisible hands to seize a fistful of thick fur. Theea’s oven squatter is revealed as a snarling, furious raccoon thrashed into the waiting cage. (Apparently they can be tropical. Who knew? Not me!)
Victory is short-lived—with a screech, three smaller raccoons explode out after it, scattering chaos through the house. One bolts into the living room and dives beneath the sagging couch. Another tears laps around the walls until it finds a gap where the window used to be—ignoring whoever’s working there as it flings itself out into open air. The third scrambles around the kitchen, climbing everything knocking things down, hissing at the dragon. What cute little adolescent raccoons! Maybe there should have been a bigger cage.
Round 4
TLDR:
Do you leave your station to help Flora?
I crouch beside Damien, balancing on my toes, heels braced, my whole body bent toward movement like I might spring up at any second. But when he starts explaining, my brain shifts gears. This is my house. If I’m going to do this, I want to do it right. I listen carefully, watching the way his hands move as much as the words he says.
When he shakes his head at Caly’s antics on the roof, I flick a glance up too, a small stab of worry catching me until I notice he doesn’t look concerned at all. I set to hammering at my corner—slower than Damien’s easy precision, but steady. I only whack my thumb once, and it’s definitely not because I got distracted staring at his hands trying to figure out how he goes so steadily.
My head shoots up at the sound of wild commotion inside and cringe. "Flora!" I shout, unsure if she can hear me. "You good?"
At the window, Remi’s extra limbs hoist Ronin up easily, the crowbar biting into wood and splintered frame as he works. The glass gives way without much of a fight, but not without mess—shards spill like glittering rain, catching in the sand... and his husband's curls. Sharp, inconvenient, and annoying to pick out. And then of course, there's no missing the commotion that clatters to life in the house.
On the roof, Calypso 's broomshake earns her an ear-splitting squawk as the hel flaps away in dramatic offense. Her brandishing seems to confuse the flock; they fluff and caw louder, as though personally insulted, a chorus of squawking sea-chickens putting on a show of wounded pride. They fly up to the surrounding palm trees, heads cocked in almost comical curiosity. Pal? Pest? They don’t seem to know either. A two squawk in surprise and flap away when chaotic noise breaks out below.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Flora proves herself brilliant. Spice’s icy breath spills into the oven, stunning the creature inside long enough for invisible hands to seize a fistful of thick fur. Theea’s oven squatter is revealed as a snarling, furious raccoon thrashed into the waiting cage. (Apparently they can be tropical. Who knew? Not me!)
Victory is short-lived—with a screech, three smaller raccoons explode out after it, scattering chaos through the house. One bolts into the living room and dives beneath the sagging couch. Another tears laps around the walls until it finds a gap where the window used to be—ignoring whoever’s working there as it flings itself out into open air. The third scrambles around the kitchen, climbing everything knocking things down, hissing at the dragon. What cute little adolescent raccoons! Maybe there should have been a bigger cage.
Round 4
TLDR:
- Damien and Theea run into little trouble, other than a bruised thumb on Theea’s part. And what is going on inside?
- Remi and Ronin are able to get the window out, but with a rain of glass into Remi’s hair and… oh shit. A raccoon just came flying out the window, toward Ronin’s head before he can take the window.
- Calypso scared off the hels, but may have offended the single braincell things. Only a few palm fronds left! And a whole lot of commotion inside.
- Flora successfully caught a raccoon! Only now there are three more young ones raising hell in the house.
Do you leave your station to help Flora?
— even when you have no stomach for it
