flora
Flora shrugs hard enough that the starlit surface around her breaks into little ripples, the glittering warmth lapping against her shoulders as her mouth twists into something that is almost a smile if one squints and ignores the knives tucked behind it. "I mean, I guess?" she says, because sorted feels like a very generous word for anything involving Colt, Sohalia, and the specific brand of social rot that had tried to seep into her birthday like spilled wine on white fabric. "I basically told her it was shitty of her to poach my friends without having the balls to tell me to my face. I didn’t hear from her after that, but then she sent Sohalia a fucking dagger as if Soh had done something wrong by telling me the shit Colt was trying to pull, so I dunno that it’s sorted, but it’s definitely done, I guess." Or, so Flora thought, not to know that the misunderstanding that had started all of this was currently being revealed.
Melita’s enthusiasm pulls Flora’s expression bright again, though, the annoyance burning away beneath something sharper and far more delighted as she widens her eyes and nods. "Yeah, I can’t fucking wait for the next time someone tries to gaslight me about something that happened." The grin that follows is all teeth and sparkle, though after a moment, Flora lets some of that shine slip from her face. With a smaller breath and a self-conscious little wince, she lowers her voice, her fingers turning beneath the surface so her rings flash and vanish through the twinkling water. "So when you became a demigod for Ludo...did you feel...like, weaker?"
Shaking her head about the question about Safrin, Flora lifts one shoulder again, softer this time. "Nope," she says. "And honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s less about doing something and more like... y’know, just being her demigod. Like she said, just having one of her demigods ruling Torchline." Her lips purse thoughtfully, though the look in her aqua eyes keeps its glittering edge. "Because other than Vesper, who I literally never hear about, Safrin doesn’t really have anyone anymore." Even if she’s only there to be something bright on the coast, a shiny reminder with a crown and saltwater in her curls, Flora can’t quite make herself mind; there are crueller shapes to be made into than a star held high enough for Torchline to see.
The ningos ruin the moment and Flora glances toward them with a sneer that matches Melita’s beautifully, her nose wrinkling. "Honestly, they’re as bad as the hels are," she mutters, rolling her eyes as she sinks lower into the hotspring.
Melita’s enthusiasm pulls Flora’s expression bright again, though, the annoyance burning away beneath something sharper and far more delighted as she widens her eyes and nods. "Yeah, I can’t fucking wait for the next time someone tries to gaslight me about something that happened." The grin that follows is all teeth and sparkle, though after a moment, Flora lets some of that shine slip from her face. With a smaller breath and a self-conscious little wince, she lowers her voice, her fingers turning beneath the surface so her rings flash and vanish through the twinkling water. "So when you became a demigod for Ludo...did you feel...like, weaker?"
Shaking her head about the question about Safrin, Flora lifts one shoulder again, softer this time. "Nope," she says. "And honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s less about doing something and more like... y’know, just being her demigod. Like she said, just having one of her demigods ruling Torchline." Her lips purse thoughtfully, though the look in her aqua eyes keeps its glittering edge. "Because other than Vesper, who I literally never hear about, Safrin doesn’t really have anyone anymore." Even if she’s only there to be something bright on the coast, a shiny reminder with a crown and saltwater in her curls, Flora can’t quite make herself mind; there are crueller shapes to be made into than a star held high enough for Torchline to see.
The ningos ruin the moment and Flora glances toward them with a sneer that matches Melita’s beautifully, her nose wrinkling. "Honestly, they’re as bad as the hels are," she mutters, rolling her eyes as she sinks lower into the hotspring.
The rumors are terrible and cruel
But honey, most of them are true
But honey, most of them are true
