flora
Rather than bristle beneath the list of everything she hadn’t thought to do, Flora merely nods. Each suggestion only reinforces the point she’d been trying to make from the start: Jack is the one man in Torchline who understands how to bring the undercity back beneath someone’s thumb without pretending it can be managed like an ordinary problem. Briefly, the memory of asking Ronin whether it was worth trying to convince Jack to return flashes through her thoughts, but she swallows it down before it can linger and gives another small nod instead.
She’d had enough time to come to terms with being replaced in Jack’s life by a formerly inanimate object that hearing about The Ark doesn’t hurt quite the way she’d expected. Perhaps it would if he spoke of her with uncomplicated affection rather than sharpening each mention into something meant to cut Flora, but this she can bear with only a stiff inclination of her head. The hypocrisy of resenting and being hurt by any of it isn’t lost on her; she has a husband waiting at home, after all.
"That’s the thought," Flora agrees, returning her attention to the problem of the ghost ship. "Remi can do something similar as a wraith, but he’s still visible when he does it." Her brows draw together faintly. Whatever magic is at work, it doesn’t seem as simple as becoming incorporeal or invisible and calling the matter solved. For a ship and its entire crew to pass unseen and untouched through solid obstacles suggests something layered, and likely far more troublesome than any one ability they already understand.
Unsurprised that Jack would rather leave breadcrumbs with the Blackfox for Flora to collect than endure another conversation with her, she exhales and nods. "There’s a new cannon in the port. Takes two people to operate and shoots ridiculously far." He’s probably already heard, but it had been on her list, and she has to catch the inside of her cheek between her teeth to keep a smile from surfacing at the memory of firing it directly at Vi.
"We’re also putting in a portal between here and the Grounds," she adds. "It won’t be large enough for cargo, though." Her thoughts supply the obvious limitation: The Ark wouldn’t fit through either. Flora gives a loose shrug, leaving the possibility of something larger hanging unspoken between them, perhaps available someday if Jack ever decides dealing with her is worth more than making every interaction as difficult as possible.
She’d had enough time to come to terms with being replaced in Jack’s life by a formerly inanimate object that hearing about The Ark doesn’t hurt quite the way she’d expected. Perhaps it would if he spoke of her with uncomplicated affection rather than sharpening each mention into something meant to cut Flora, but this she can bear with only a stiff inclination of her head. The hypocrisy of resenting and being hurt by any of it isn’t lost on her; she has a husband waiting at home, after all.
"That’s the thought," Flora agrees, returning her attention to the problem of the ghost ship. "Remi can do something similar as a wraith, but he’s still visible when he does it." Her brows draw together faintly. Whatever magic is at work, it doesn’t seem as simple as becoming incorporeal or invisible and calling the matter solved. For a ship and its entire crew to pass unseen and untouched through solid obstacles suggests something layered, and likely far more troublesome than any one ability they already understand.
Unsurprised that Jack would rather leave breadcrumbs with the Blackfox for Flora to collect than endure another conversation with her, she exhales and nods. "There’s a new cannon in the port. Takes two people to operate and shoots ridiculously far." He’s probably already heard, but it had been on her list, and she has to catch the inside of her cheek between her teeth to keep a smile from surfacing at the memory of firing it directly at Vi.
"We’re also putting in a portal between here and the Grounds," she adds. "It won’t be large enough for cargo, though." Her thoughts supply the obvious limitation: The Ark wouldn’t fit through either. Flora gives a loose shrug, leaving the possibility of something larger hanging unspoken between them, perhaps available someday if Jack ever decides dealing with her is worth more than making every interaction as difficult as possible.
How can a person know everything at 18 but nothing at 22?
Will you still want me when I'm nothing new?
Will you still want me when I'm nothing new?
