ditch the clowns, get the crown
Flora snickers under her breath, the sound softer now but still threaded through with the last remnants of laughter as her lips twist wryly, her gaze flicking once more over the dockworkers like she’s cataloguing the varying degrees of what the fuck just happened written across their faces. "Yeah, you’d think," she says, the grin that follows easy and crooked, as if she’s not entirely sure she wants to get used to it anyway.
The thought of a festival catches her in her mind as Melita mentions it, and something in her expression sharpens just a fraction as she straightens a touch more fully, the humour still there but threaded now with something more deliberate, more considering. Her fingers snap once, quick and decisive, gold flashing as she points vaguely toward Melita like she’s just confirmed something important. "I think you’re onto something," she says, nodding, her head tilting as she turns the idea over properly now, not just playing with it. "Other than our LongNight parties, we don’t really have many festivals...but maybe we should change that."
With another nod, firmer this time, Flora tips her chin toward the street with a flicker of renewed mischief breaking back through. "Come on," she adds, already moving as if the decision’s been made, "we can come up with t-shirt designs over slurpees."
~FIN
The thought of a festival catches her in her mind as Melita mentions it, and something in her expression sharpens just a fraction as she straightens a touch more fully, the humour still there but threaded now with something more deliberate, more considering. Her fingers snap once, quick and decisive, gold flashing as she points vaguely toward Melita like she’s just confirmed something important. "I think you’re onto something," she says, nodding, her head tilting as she turns the idea over properly now, not just playing with it. "Other than our LongNight parties, we don’t really have many festivals...but maybe we should change that."
With another nod, firmer this time, Flora tips her chin toward the street with a flicker of renewed mischief breaking back through. "Come on," she adds, already moving as if the decision’s been made, "we can come up with t-shirt designs over slurpees."
~FIN
Flora
baby i'm the one to beat
