I'd burn my house down just to hear them scream my name
As Ronin offers his congratulations, Flora softens even more, the last of that ready-made hostility loosening from her expression as her lips twist into a helpless little smile. She shrugs one shoulder, trying to make it seem casual and almost succeeding, though the small, pleased sound threaded through her voice gives her away entirely. "Thanks," she murmurs, the word quieter than her usual brightness and far more delighted than she’s ready to admit.
Then she clears her throat and lifts her chin slightly. "Okay, watch this." Pulling on the thread of her magic, Flora reaches back for a memory from four years ago, the shape of it rising around them in flickering, illusory colour. The Ahi Coast gives way to the inside of the Hanged Man as it had been then, still standing but not yet hers, its edges worn and familiar in that way old places are before anyone realizes they’re about to become important. The memory moves in fragments, flashing through the work of getting the building ready to be used again, with Ronin appearing again and again throughout it: helping repair what needed fixing, moving what needed moving, lending his hands and strength to a place Flora would later make her own.
Glancing toward him as the illusion plays out, Flora’s smile turns smaller but no less pleased. "I can replay memories," she explains. "Mine, or whoever I’m with." She gives a little shrug, one that doesn’t come close to hiding how useful she thinks the magic is. "So now I can see how things happened even if I wasn’t there for them, or replay what was said in case someone has selective amnesia about things." Snickering softly at that, Flora lets the memory linger for another moment before looking back at Ronin. "I also have Rescue, like you do."
Then she clears her throat and lifts her chin slightly. "Okay, watch this." Pulling on the thread of her magic, Flora reaches back for a memory from four years ago, the shape of it rising around them in flickering, illusory colour. The Ahi Coast gives way to the inside of the Hanged Man as it had been then, still standing but not yet hers, its edges worn and familiar in that way old places are before anyone realizes they’re about to become important. The memory moves in fragments, flashing through the work of getting the building ready to be used again, with Ronin appearing again and again throughout it: helping repair what needed fixing, moving what needed moving, lending his hands and strength to a place Flora would later make her own.
Glancing toward him as the illusion plays out, Flora’s smile turns smaller but no less pleased. "I can replay memories," she explains. "Mine, or whoever I’m with." She gives a little shrug, one that doesn’t come close to hiding how useful she thinks the magic is. "So now I can see how things happened even if I wasn’t there for them, or replay what was said in case someone has selective amnesia about things." Snickering softly at that, Flora lets the memory linger for another moment before looking back at Ronin. "I also have Rescue, like you do."
I've carried hopes & heavy day dreams, but i'm all done with sleepin'
