ditch the clowns, get the crown
Flora’s laughter is still spilling out of her in uneven bursts, her breath catching and restarting like she hasn’t quite figured out the rhythm again yet, one hand lifting to swipe at her eyes as she tries—futilely—to get herself back under anything resembling control, the corners of her mouth refusing to settle no matter how much she presses her lips together. "Well, at least we won’t be the only ones," she manages, her voice still bright with it as she straightens in stages and finally glances outward, taking in the way the dockworkers and passersby are only just beginning to drift back into motion, like the world had briefly paused and is now deciding it’s safe to continue, her grin widening at the thought of how many versions of this are about to exist by nightfall.
Her gaze flicks back to Melita, mischief still sparking easily despite the lingering disbelief, and she lets out another soft huff of laughter as she lifts a hand in a loose, conceding gesture. "Well, by all means, you can take credit for this one if you want," she adds, the words light and teasing, immediately undercut by the way she breaks again, shaking her head as if the idea of anyone trying to explain it is somehow funnier than the event itself.
"Oh yeah," she continues, the thought catching hold and running with it as her eyes brighten. "I can see it now. Floating balloons with Vi’s face on them that you can shoot, but magically they never make a sound—" The image hits her all over again, absurd and perfect, and she laughs, breathless, one hand pressing briefly to her stomach as if that might keep the rest of it contained, though it clearly has no intention of stopping anytime soon.
Her gaze flicks back to Melita, mischief still sparking easily despite the lingering disbelief, and she lets out another soft huff of laughter as she lifts a hand in a loose, conceding gesture. "Well, by all means, you can take credit for this one if you want," she adds, the words light and teasing, immediately undercut by the way she breaks again, shaking her head as if the idea of anyone trying to explain it is somehow funnier than the event itself.
"Oh yeah," she continues, the thought catching hold and running with it as her eyes brighten. "I can see it now. Floating balloons with Vi’s face on them that you can shoot, but magically they never make a sound—" The image hits her all over again, absurd and perfect, and she laughs, breathless, one hand pressing briefly to her stomach as if that might keep the rest of it contained, though it clearly has no intention of stopping anytime soon.
Flora
baby i'm the one to beat
