[SE] can you see me through the ashes and the smoke?

flora

The streets of Torchline are still alive with LongNight revelry, the air thick with music and laughter, but Flora barely hears it as she makes her way home, letting The Ark and its party fade behind her.

Flora sniffs, dashing the back of her hand against her cheek as she trudges up the familiar path to her house, her heels crunching against the sandy walkway. How the fuck had Jack not realized what she'd think upon seeing a white sparkly lace dress just hanging in his closet. How had he not known what she’d think the second she laid eyes on it? Maybe that’s why he’d been so quick to shut it down. A mistake, a misstep—an accident that needed correcting before she got the wrong idea. And the fact that he'd done nothing when he felt her break over it? That's what stung the most, given that Jack could read her fair more easily than any book, who could sift through the sandstorm of her emotions as easily as breathing. He'd felt the way his casual offer of changing the colour had skewered through her and had said nothing. Had done nothing.

By the time she reaches her door, Flora is sniffling in earnest, her chest tight, throat burning with the effort of swallowing down the mess of feelings swirling in her gut. It’s fine, she tells herself, but the way her breath hitches as she fumbles for the key suggests otherwise. Holding her breath, she nudges the door open, stepping inside with a mixture of dread and fragile hope. Her eyes flicker immediately to the shoes by the door, scanning for more than one pair, her stomach twisting at the thought of seeing a pile of them.

The last thing she needs right now is to walk into a goddamn orgy.

Or, you know, maybe that's exactly what she needs.

Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness
'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Mateo

champagne, cocaine, gasoline
and most things in between

Flora is lucky - Mateo is on a break between orgies, though what's telling isn't that his (several pairs of) shoes are stacked by the door, but that his bunny ear slippers are not. At hearing her key in the lock he comes scuffing out in them from the kitchen, a pair of sunglasses shading his eyes despite the fact that the sun hasn't risen in days, the botanist slurping some obnoxious cocktail he's made through a curly straw. "You're home early, sorellina," he purrs to her around the straw in greeting, gesturing for her to follow him into the kitchen for refreshments.

That is until he sees the look on her face, Mateo immediately setting his glass on the sideboard and pushing up his sunglasses to rest amongst his curls to see her properly. "What happened?" he asks, crossing the entry way to knock the front door shut and draw her into his arms as easily as if she'd told him all about what had happened already. "Would you like booze or tea? Or booze in tea?" he asks, already ushering her towards the kitchen.

I roam the city in a shopping cart
a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm

flora

Mateo wrapping her up in an immediate hug is probably the exact thing Flora needs, even if it just makes her sniffle a little harder at first. Burying her face against his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of whatever ridiculous cocktail he’s made mixed with whatever fragrant herbs still cling to his curls, the queen twists if only to protect his outfit from the mascara she's certain is now smeared beneath her eyes.

"Tea," she murmurs answering the easier of his questions first. Then, after a pause, a barely-there huff against his shoulder. "And booze. Obviously." She lets him steer her toward the kitchen, untangling herself from the hug only when necessary, dragging a hand beneath her nose before plopping down at the table.

"It's stupid," she says, which, in her mind, means she is stupid for letting this get to her so much. "Jack got me this gown...A really nice one, actually. But it was white, and all lacy and sparkly, and I—" She presses her lips together, swallowing hard before letting out a humourless laugh. "I thought for half a second, just half a second, that maybe he was trying to tell me something."

Saying it out loud makes her feel even more ridiculous, and gods but the urge to curl up into a ball and cry has her shoulders rounding forward as she further slumps against the table. "Obviously it's nothing. It's fine, just a misunderstanding, but..." Biting at the inside of her cheek, Flora offers her brother a helpless little shake of her head; the rest was impossible to explain without mentioning Jack's abilities.

Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness
'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Mateo

champagne, cocaine, gasoline
and most things in between

Luckily for Flora, the silk shirt hanging open around Mateo tonight is already black, and so if she'd like to smear it with mascara, she absolutely can without fear. "Ah, together but separate. This is why you are the queen," he says with a small smile, pressing a smooch to her hair and guiding her into the kitchen, careful not to trip over the bunny ears on his own slippers. As she plops down at the table, he plonks the other cocktail he's made own in front of her - yes, with its own curly straw - and goes to set the kettle upon the stove.

"Anything that brings my little sister to tears is not stupid," he says, waggling his finger at her knowingly and arranging their mugs of tea before coming to sit down with her. Having forgotten about his own drink on the sideboard, he instead opts to drink the leftover cocktail right out of the shaker - and that suits him just fine, thank you.

Listening with the sort of intensity reserved for the moderately tipsy, Mateo frowns softly and reaches out on autopilot to clasp his hand in Flora's. "Trying to... tell you something?" he ventures softly before it clicks, the botanist wiggling the fingers of his left hand in understanding. "Well, what an idiot he is," he says with a huff. "A misunderstanding or not, that was clumsy at best and cruel at worst. Have you been speaking about it...?" Getting married, he means, assuming that this is why the dress has come as such a disappointment.

I roam the city in a shopping cart
a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm

A metallic tang rides the coastal breeze. Before you can place its source, something darts between the palm trunks, silent and quick. The wind dies for an instant, and your pulse thunders in your ears. You sense eyes on you, yet see no one in the dappled light.

---

This does not count as a Random Event for levelling or MP. There will be no further admin/re intervention.

flora

Flora lets out a watery little laugh at the way Mateo wiggles his fingers, shaking her head as she sniffles and wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand. The cocktail the botanist has plunked down in front of her is ridiculous and yet she still reaches for it, taking a long, steadying sip as she tries to wrangle her emotions into something more manageable.

"I mean..." It's a difficult question to answer because while they'd certainly had certain explicit conversations about how Flora would likely hate being with someone like Jack, the subject of marriage had only come up inside of her own thoughts, which, for most couples, would mean that no it hadn't been talked about. "...he says things like how I'm stuck with him forever, but no, we haven't ever really...gone into it."

A humourless laugh bubbles up in the back of her throat which Flora promptly drowns with another sip of Mateo's concoction. "I’ve always figured if it ever was gonna happen, I’d have to be the one to ask. And even then, I don’t know if he’d say yes." There’s no bitterness in it, not really—just a resigned sort of acceptance that’s always been there, tucked neatly behind all the brighter, happier parts of her love for him.

"But like—he knows me. And he felt—" She cuts herself off with another sip of her drink, exhaling sharply through her nose. "Why would he get me a dress that looks like that? And then just—nothing when he realized how much it hurt? Like I was the idiot for thinking it for even a second."

Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness
'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Mateo

champagne, cocaine, gasoline
and most things in between

I mean is the sort of response that Mateo is absolutely used to hearing from friends and acquaintances when they're getting into a (perhaps a touch unreasonable) discussion about someone's misgivings, and he nods sagely before taking another long drink from his cocktail shaker. "So do you think he was just trying to tease you or something?" he asks, scowling and glaring towards the darkness outside as if the good captain is a hair's breadth away from his bad books.

"Because do not get me wrong, sorellina, men can be idiots. But we do not always know that we are idiots until it is too late. Especially if we have perhaps been having a week-long party where the sun does not rise..." Trying to give Jack the benefit of the doubt if only because he knows how Flora feels about him, the botanist rises to his feet to attend to the shrieking kettle.

"Granted," he adds, "I would have said that a wedding dress was more for you to design and choose. I would expect him to come up with a ring instead."

I roam the city in a shopping cart
a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm

flora

Flora huffs out a breath, shooting Mateo an exaggeratedly wounded look as she wraps both hands around her drink. "Whose side are you on?" she demands, pouting just enough to be dramatic, nose wrinkling as she watches him tend to the tea. "Because I feel like I came here for solidarity and instead you’re giving me a reasonable perspective, and honestly, I don't love that for me."

The queen exhales sharply, knocking back another sip of her drink before finally shaking her head. "It’s not the dress," she admits because despite how much she wants to just be mad about that, it was never really about the dress itself. That she could absolutely write off as Jack being a moron. "Like, yeah, obviously it was a weird choice if he didn't want my mind to just jump to wedding, but the thing that got me was..." She trails off, biting at her lip, turning her glass absently between her fingers as she tries to find the right words without giving too much away.

"He’s not like most men," she finally says, and gods does that feel like the biggest cliche as much as the biggest understatement. "And the way he reacted..." She trails off again, frustration flickering across her face before she sighs, shaking her head, unable to properly explain it to her brother without giving Jack away. "It’s like—he knew exactly what I was thinking, and instead of, I don’t know, doing literally anything about it, he just shrugged and said he could dye it if it was a problem."

The words sit heavy on her tongue, bitter in a way that even the sweetness of her drink can’t quite wash away. "Like I was stupid for even having the thought in the first place." And that, more than anything, is what stings the most. The idea that it had all been a misunderstanding? Fine. That he hadn’t meant it that way? Sure. But to feel it the way she know he did? To have her hurt slither through the space between them and do nothing? "Maybe I just don't know him as well as I thought."

She sighs, rubbing at her temples before tipping her head back against the chair. "Or, I dunno, maybe I am being stupid." She closes her eyes briefly, then peeks at Mateo through clumpy lashes. "This is where you tell me I’m not, by the way."

Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness
'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Mateo

champagne, cocaine, gasoline
and most things in between

"Sorry, sorry--" Mateo winces and flaps a hand at Flora in apology from his place at the counter where he starts to brew their tea. "Of course he is a bastard and he ought to have done better for any sister of mine. I just... you like him, so obviously I do not want to say anything I cannot take back, argument or not." Bouncing his eyebrows at her, he turns to lean into the corner of the countertops, letting out a long sigh.

Still, that doesn't prepare him to hear those immortal words from Flora's lips - that Jack is not like most men - and his eyebrows shoot up disbelievingly before he can help himself. Obviously he's jumped to Jack is a Prince Charming over being a fucking telepath, but anyway. "I..." Huffing out a long breath and turning back to the tea, he steeps it and adds a generous amount of honey before bringing it over.

"Is it something you do not think you can work out?" he asks softly. "Because if not, perhaps you were both drunk and he did not act the way you expected him to. Or maybe he was surprised you did not like the dress and you did not act the way he expected you to. Either way, you are not being stupid for feeling the way you do. And given that we are both still tipsy at worst, we can go and set some of his clothes on fire upstairs if you like."

I roam the city in a shopping cart
a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm

flora

Flora blinks at Mateo, thrown just enough by his reaction that she doesn’t immediately have a quip ready. Her fingers tighten slightly around her drink as she listens to him talk, the heat behind her frustration begins to dim as she begins to curl in on herself, like a wave pulling back from the shore. "I never said it was something we couldn’t work out. It's obviously not that big of a deal," she says, voice quieter than before. "I just—" She exhales, shaking her head as she pushes her glass away slightly. Maybe it was the drinks catching up with her, or maybe she was just tired, but suddenly the energy to argue her point feels like too much effort.

Mateo means well, she knows that. But every time he tries to explain it away, tries to offer her some reasonable, logical excuse for why Jack had acted the way he had (especially when she'd just asked for him to be on her side about it), makes her feel smaller, like she's foolish for being upset about something with such a clear solution. Like she isn’t even allowed to just sit here in her own house and cry about her boyfriend if she wants to.

Flora's gaze flickers to the tea Mateo has placed in front of her, fingers ghosting over the warm ceramic. "I think I just want to go to bed," she murmurs, her voice steady but distant, withdrawing in a way that isn’t dramatic, isn’t pointed—just quiet. Just tired. Of all of it. "Thanks for the tea, though."

She offers a small, half-hearted smile before pushing away from the table, cradling the mug in her hands as she heads toward her bedroom, pausing only at the sound of knocking on the door. It wouldn't be Jack (he didn't knock), and given that there was no one she really wanted to see, she glances over her shoulder at her brother and shrugs. He could answer it if he wanted, or ignore it as she had.

Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness
'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

but that was then, and this is now

Indeed there is a knock knock knock on Flora's door, though as so often happens to be the case since Mateo has come to Torchline, the man on the other side is here for the botanist rather than the queen.

Remi’s knuckles rap lightly against the door, the sound barely more than a polite intrusion against the hush of LongNight. He shifts his weight slightly, a small, neatly wrapped package cradled in one hand. The scarves—one deep blue, the other rich green—are tucked inside a box, wrapped in crisp parchment paper and tied with a simple cord. A small sprig of dried lavender is knotted into the twine, its scent faint but familiar, something Mateo would recognize instantly.

It isn’t the first time he’s knocked on this door since Mateo settled here, and it likely won’t be the last. But tonight, his visit is simple—just a father dropping off a gift, a small thing against the backdrop of everything else.

the bastion

Table by the wonderful SKY

Mateo

champagne, cocaine, gasoline
and most things in between

"Ah, I... sorry." Slouching in his seat and rubbing at the back of his neck, Mateo's gaze drops to the steam curling up from his mug. He might be thoroughly useless at romantic advice in this case, as it happens, but at least he can hold his hands up and admit it. "I have never had anything like what you have with Jack. I did not mean to be insensitive to you." Smiling weakly as she says she wants to go to bed, the botansit nods and drags his hand through the back of his curls to rub at his eyes now.

"I will probably join you," he agrees, about to pick up his tea to follow her when the knock sounds at the door. Raising an eyebrow as if to ask whether Flora wants to open it just in case it's Jack (maybe he knocks when he's been a dickhead, who knew?), he nevertheless nods as she shrugs it away. "I will tell them the Kaito-Taliesin household is closed for the evening," he says, sweeping into the entranceway to do just that.

Only it's not a stranger or a sorry looking captain on the doorstep, but their fucking father, and Mateo seems to bristle and grow awkward immediately. "Flora is just on her way to bed," he explains in a low voice. "She is not up to visitors right now, sorry."

I roam the city in a shopping cart
a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm

but that was then, and this is now

Remi had braced himself for something—awkwardness, hesitation, even outrage—but Mateo’s immediate bristle still hit him like a fist to the ribs. It’s not angry—ot outright—but it doesn’t have to be. The way his son stiffens, the way his voice drops into something clipped and careful, tells him everything he needs to know. And gods, he deserves it.

His throat works around a response that doesn’t come immediately, his sea-glass eyes flicking briefly toward the dim interior of the house before settling back on Mateo, quieter now. The edges of his expression soften into something close to contrition as he clears his throat. "I’m not here for Flora," he says finally, his voice low and careful. "I’m here to see you." He pauses, almost nervously. "To talk." He shifts his weight slightly, but not in the way that suggests restlessness; more like he’s standing in a space he’s not entirely sure he has permission to occupy. "To apologize, if you'll let me."

He extends the small, wrapped box toward Mateo, not quite pushing it on him, but offering it nonetheless. "For the things I said at the Festival of Lights."

the bastion

Table by the wonderful SKY

Mateo

champagne, cocaine, gasoline
and most things in between

Having been fully prepared to have to close the door in Remi's face to prevent him from simply deciding that he had to speak to Flora then and there, it's only the fact that their father is apparently here to see him that has him taking pause. His brows furrow into a scowl that's all Ronin, expressive brows over blue eyes, and it takes a hot second for the words to fully sink in. When they do, though, he leans back a little to check the clock. If there'd been a calendar, he'd have checked that too.

"The Festival of Lights was a season ago," he says, holding up a hand as the present is offered out. Mateo's frown softens, but rather than angry, the boy merely looks hurt.

"This is not fair. I have been doing better," he murmurs. "I came down to Torchline for a bit, and I have been spending a lot of time with people who care about me. I am starting to feel better, Remi. Why are you doing this now?" Why open that box of awful things now, instead of just after the festival, or for however long Mateo has been in the region?

"I do not even believe that you know what you are apologising for. So... thank you, but I do not need it."

I roam the city in a shopping cart
a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm