flora
"Oooooooh," Flora murmurs under her breath at the mention of Air magic, her eyes brightening before she nods, visibly filing the idea away somewhere between dragon security, aisle drama, and the ever-growing list of ways to make the whole thing so beautiful and absurdly theatrical that no one can possibly pretend they aren’t impressed. "Yeah, that’s what we were thinking," she adds of Safrin, her smile turning briefly starry at the edges despite the steam curling damply around her cheeks.
The question about inviting all of Caido has Flora wrinkling her nose immediately, horror and amusement chasing one another across her face as she shakes her head hard enough to disturb the damp curls pinned messily atop it. "Gods, no." Her eyes widen for emphasis. "There are definitely a few people who are not invited." Letting her grin grow crooked, Flora lowers her voice as if the steam itself might carry gossip back to the wrong ears, though the delighted pettiness in her expression suggests she wouldn’t entirely mind if it did. "That’s partially why it’s up in the Cordillera. If it was in Torchline, I wouldn’t be surprised if Jack sailed the Ark in front of the sun to put the whole thing in shade."
She lets the image sit there for a second, ridiculous and yet not entirely impossible, because if there is one thing Flora has learned, it’s that underestimating Jack Barclay’s capacity to be pointedly inconvenient is how people end up surprised by exactly the thing they should have seen coming, herself included. Still, the thought is easier now than it might once have been, less a bruise and more a sharp little shell she can turn over in her palm without cutting herself open on it, and after a moment her attention swings back to Melita with fresh mischief sparking across her face. Bouncing her eyebrows playfully, Flora leans into the warmer current of the spring and says, "soooo do you think you even know all of what your wild magic does? Like, do you think there’s some super rare ability you have that’s just... never come out?"
The question about inviting all of Caido has Flora wrinkling her nose immediately, horror and amusement chasing one another across her face as she shakes her head hard enough to disturb the damp curls pinned messily atop it. "Gods, no." Her eyes widen for emphasis. "There are definitely a few people who are not invited." Letting her grin grow crooked, Flora lowers her voice as if the steam itself might carry gossip back to the wrong ears, though the delighted pettiness in her expression suggests she wouldn’t entirely mind if it did. "That’s partially why it’s up in the Cordillera. If it was in Torchline, I wouldn’t be surprised if Jack sailed the Ark in front of the sun to put the whole thing in shade."
She lets the image sit there for a second, ridiculous and yet not entirely impossible, because if there is one thing Flora has learned, it’s that underestimating Jack Barclay’s capacity to be pointedly inconvenient is how people end up surprised by exactly the thing they should have seen coming, herself included. Still, the thought is easier now than it might once have been, less a bruise and more a sharp little shell she can turn over in her palm without cutting herself open on it, and after a moment her attention swings back to Melita with fresh mischief sparking across her face. Bouncing her eyebrows playfully, Flora leans into the warmer current of the spring and says, "soooo do you think you even know all of what your wild magic does? Like, do you think there’s some super rare ability you have that’s just... never come out?"
The rumors are terrible and cruel
But honey, most of them are true
But honey, most of them are true
