[SE] the door to any grace is very little, very ordinary

your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand

Spice accepts Sila’s mercy without the slightest acknowledgement that anything has gone wrong, climbing back toward her with an eager chirp before settling into the easier pattern of turns as though the earlier spiral had been entirely deliberate. Flora watches her for a moment with an amused narrowing of her eyes, then hums an appreciative, 'Ooooooh," beneath Melita’s latest plotting.

"Okay, well, maybe you could anonymously donate them to the Gilded Market." She lifts one hand as the possibilities begin arranging themselves, her grin growing with each new variation. "Or they could just start showing up on people’s doorsteps from secret admirers or something. Then you could watch all the fuckery without anyone knowing it was you." Flora pauses with the sled rope looped around her fingers, raising one brow toward Melita. "Except me, obviously, but then I’ll know not to accept anything left outside my house."

The question turned back on her takes a little more thought. Flora gives a loose shrug, gaze dropping to the sand as she nudges another scrap of trash free with the toe of her sandal. "I dunno. I kind of feel like my dads are always going to be the strong ones people call when something needs punching or killing, so maybe I should try to be useful in other ways?" Her brows lift as she glances back at Melita, aware that it sounds much more convincing when phrased like that. "Not that I actually know what that means yet."

A laugh slips out at Melita’s contingency plan for Iskra, warm and entirely unsurprised. "Well, whatever you do, I definitely want to hear how it goes afterward." Flora gives her a bright wink, then bounces her brows with enough emphasis to ruin any pretence of innocence. "Some of it, anyway."

Melita

Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down

The little bronze appeared mildly confused, but when she realized they were either playing it cool or pretending it never happened, she huffed another breath. Beginning some other rotations, they were light and breezy instead, then she ascended, bridging over thermals before unfurling a long, winding bout of flames, inviting more elemental displays rather than acrobatic overtures. Melita shielded her eyes from the sun and watched for a moment, hesitant to preside in any warnings when everything seemed well enough.

Flora’s further plotting distracted her anyway. “Gods,” she grinned, wide and Cheshire, as if just given a tremendous gift of exchanged ideas instead of plotting to ruin people’s endeavors. “I’ve done that sort before, but mostly only like. Hauntings.” Used Fangorn as a ploy, or crawled invisibly along houses and pretended to be a ghoul. “I do like your style.” Nefarious. A little mean. Bullying tactics anyone could admire. Though she had the audacity to look mildly offended, a pretense of a hand on her chest and a gasp, as Flora sent her an obvious warning. “You think I would try to pull something on you?” She batted her eyelashes, the smile returning. “I mean, on Kaisel, obviously,” that went without saying.

When Flora didn’t seem to readily crave certain emblems of power, the Honeybee shrugged, kicking a can closer to her as she crouched and chucked it into the vicinity of all her other new trash goods. “I’d think about what you want for yourself first, rather than those channeling,” she winked. “Like, I had all my wild magic for fun and amusement, but I still needed something to make sure I could always leave some damage too.” Based on what she got up to, all things considering. “Hence the cannons.”

At the last bits though, the demigod shook her head and snorted, not even bothering to fight the blush across her cheeks. She could spare some details, but certainly others were left for her and Iskra alone; she was more the type to gossip over someone’s misdeeds than anything bedroom adjacent. “Sure. I’ll save the highlights.”

to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun

your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand

Spice answers the lengthening ribbon of flame with a bright burst of frost, sending ice crystals sparkling through the heated air before wheeling after Sila with an excited trill. Flora watches the two dragons for another moment before Melita’s admission pulls her brows high. "Really? That sounds epic." Her grin turns thoughtful as she reaches for another can half-buried in the sand, rolling it loose with her fingertips before tossing it onto the sled. "With my new magic, I bet I could replicate the spirits in my house whenever I wanted, but I hadn’t thought about using them for that before."

When Melita clutches at her chest, Flora bats her lashes right back with an expression every bit as innocent. The mention of Kaisel breaks it almost immediately, laughter spilling out as she nods. "Oh, obviously." Her smile widens, entirely lacking in sympathy for her husband. "The best part is that he’d absolutely fall for it over and over again."

Melita’s advice makes her hum, the sound lingering as she gives the sled another tug through the sand. "My parents always took all of this soooo seriously," Flora admits, her nose wrinkling slightly as she thinks back on the weight they’d attached to every blessing, ability, and divine expectation. "But I’m starting to realize maybe it isn’t actually that deep all the time, you know?" Being useful doesn’t necessarily have to mean becoming another weapon someone only remembers when the world needs saving. Maybe it can involve fun, or mischief, or something that belongs entirely to her.

At the promise of highlights, Flora’s expression brightens with sudden realization. "Oh, duh. I can literally use my magic to replay whatever you want to show me." She flashes Melita a delighted grin, though the bounce of her brows makes it very clear that the Honeybee would want to choose those memories all the more carefully given her penchant for privacy.

Melita

Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down

Sila rounded back behind Spice, either trying to evade the ice spray or to watch it, before unfurling more of her flames upwards, so the embers spilled out in glowing waves of fire and brimstone, before echoing another trill. Melita’s notions for hauntings seemed to galvanize something though, and she arched her brows in ploy for mischief that never vacated her existence. “Fuck yeah, see. It’d be a nice way to get rid of people too. Or bother people living there with you.” Her cheeky grin persisted, very pleased by the very ideas of spirits multiplying and wreaking havoc around one individual until they screamed or fled.

And Flora, rather than getting offended at the thought of her husband being bullied, seemed all for it. Melita would take it as a sign of approval and bear another dimpled smile that told of immense and future tyranny, humming a little under her breath as some thoughts cropped up.

But the semblances of seriousness about demigod magic between Ronin and Remi didn’t surprise her. They’d had to uphold so much for so long; it wouldn’t have been worth it to them for some of the fragments both Honeybee and Hot Take held. “Oh, you’re probably right. But some take the weight on to a whole new meaning. I think as long as I’m upholding what my herald asked me to do, then I’m set.” And could do whatever she wanted. Whether or not Flora ascribed to the same philosophy, time would tell. “And of course, none of that is serious for Ludo,” she winked. What Safrin might visualize could be entirely different.

Replayed highlights made her smile go Cheshire, then her eyes narrowed slightly as she realized she’d have to pick apart which memories – knowing herself and Iskra. “Did Kaisel show you his dream that way?” Or maybe she just received an epic and embellished retelling.

to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun

your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand

Flora only bounces her brows in answer, wholly aligned with Melita’s vision of weaponized hauntings and domestic inconvenience. There are enough people in Caido who deserve to be chased out of a room by something dead, and perhaps even more who could stand to be mildly tormented while trying to sleep.

At the mention of people taking their responsibilities too seriously, Flora turns her head and coughs a conspicuous, "Hadama," into one hand before flashing the Honeybee a grin. Straightening, she gives a loose shrug and reaches for the sled’s rope again. "Right? I don’t think all of us are meant for the front lines." Honestly, that suits her just fine. Remi and Ronin have spent enough of their lives being pointed toward disasters, and Flora has no particular urge to prove herself by following them into every one.

When Melita asks about Kai’s dream, she nods. "Yep! I really need some kind of fast-forward mode, though, because watching everything in real time can get a little dull." Her nose wrinkles, though the criticism does nothing to dim the pleased curve of her smile. "But it is super cool." If she does say so herself, and she absolutely does.

Glancing back at the sled, Flora surveys the clinking heap of bottles and cups before tilting her head decisively. "All right, I think one sledful is enough for this morning." She gives the rope a final little tug, then looks toward Melita with a hopeful lift of her brows. "Want to go get popsicles?"