join the club

// now we are hanging out in the backyard //

“Yeah… I can kinda relate to that.” He mutters, the inward wince one that has his nose wrinkling slightly, the smattering of freckles on his nose and cheekbones stretching with the movement before he puffs out the sigh and nods. “And I know he isn’t getting the thoughts misconstrued if that’s what you meant when you said it.” He murmurs, because of course what he knows about Jack would ensure that regardless of the words that fell from Flora’s lips, the intention was there, written in her mind for him to pluck out.

But her head nudges against his shoulder and he glances down toward her, an almost sad smile crossing his face. “Well, she stabbed me, so.” He says it like it was nothing different than oh I got the wrong coffee order, before he snorts at the memory and exhales a sigh all the same with her own heavy one – mirroring her lopsided smile as he nods. “My life has very few cheerful moments. If I didn’t talk about ‘em at all, then I’d be some big mystery.” His accent pours over his words with honesty, but playfulness as if he were some mysterious being.

He isn’t these days, but he had been once upon a time. “Yeah,” Trying to be as reassuring as possible, he does feel the way his heart lurches a touch at the thought, even if he knows that at the time it had been the only thing the Valkyrie thought would keep Flora safe. It was the biggest part of Hotaru’s reluctance to reach out to her daughter, just in case she never forgave her for it. “We’re very much not infected anymore, as you’ll see for yourself. So uh… Prepare for that.” The frown that’s briefly there vanishes shortly after – because now the three of them were afflicted with it each time they looked to their loved ones, even if Sunjata had the longest stretch of time to get used to it, it still took him by surprise when he woke up beside her mother in the morning, day after day.

“If you’re worried, though, I’m happy to come with.” Just to alleviate any further fears if there were some.

the flood

// looking at a new point of view //

marked me like a bloodstain

Flora snorts softly into her mug. "Right? That's the thing that no one else understands when I try and tell them about Jack," she mutters, and while once the connection between the Flood and the captain had made her a touchy uneasy, now the queen was nothing but grateful for his understanding.

When Sunjata casually drops that her mother stabbed him, Flora chokes on her sip and turns to gape at him. "Excuse me, what?" she gasps, sounding both awed and impressed. "Gods. Of course she did. That sounds like her." Still, there's laughter behind it—true amusement threading through the ache, because it sounds like the sort of thing Flora might have done in the same situation. Except...she hadn't, had she? "Jack has another kid coming with Safrin." Biting at the inside of her cheek, Flora glances toward the fireplace. "With the triplets it was just a handshake, but this last time they slept together."

Maybe Flora should have stabbed him.

"You don’t have to come," she says after a moment, quieter now. "But if you want to, I… wouldn’t say no." Her fingers toy with the edge of the mug, tracing an invisible pattern. "I know she thought she was keeping me safe. Gods know I was a bit unhinged when I was infected too."

// now we are hanging out in the backyard //

If there was anyone who did understand, Sunjata’s selfishly glad that he’s the one. But as it shifts to the announcement that Hotaru had stabbed him, the hurt of the moment is glossed over by the low rumble of his laugh as he nods and inclines his head. “Yeah, pretty shit timing though. I had a new tattoo from Safrin and it moved to heal me right after.. so y’know, I’m sure you can imagine how that went.” He mutters, snorting a little under his breath.

As for the rest of the news, he’d been unaware of the triplets let alone another. And it’s the shock of that which has him unable to stop the flash of lightning through his scars as he looks back to her, steel gaze encased in surprise — and perhaps a touch concern. “Four..? What the fuck?” His tone is wrapped with apology, the tightening of his jaw because he’s fairly confident if he tried anything like that he’d have been murdered over and over again.

He wonders how worth it, it was. Something to think about later, he supposes. As for the rest of it, Sunjata softens immediately at the mention of going to see Hotaru with her, nodding with a small frown. “She didn’t take you dying well.. we both didn’t, and part of it was my fault for being unable to stay with her after she found out because I was healed and she.. wasn’t.” He squeezes her shoulders a little before releasing her. “So it was a shitty situation all around and I’m sorry I didn’t do more.” He doesn’t know if it would help, but, now that they’ve all been infected, there’s a hint of empathy in there from each party.

the flood

// looking at a new point of view //

marked me like a bloodstain

Flora lets out a sharp laugh, nearly spilling what’s left of her cider. "Okay but if a woman my boyfriend had slept with, used her magic to immediately heal him after I stabbed him?" She grins, wide and unrepentant, tossing him a look that is equal parts godsdamn and girl, same. "I’d be pissed too. Maybe even try again for good measure." There’s no judgment in her voice—just the amused solidarity of someone who is, in many ways, far too much her mother’s daughter.

At Sunjata’s reaction to Jack’s ever-growing list of offspring, her expression tightens, humour bleeding away. "Yeah," she says, more quietly this time. "First time, he traded her the ability to make the Ark fly. Three kids for that." Her eyes flick toward the fire, jaw tight. "This time? They slept together. She gave him a void-warding necklace, or something. And another demigod."

Still, when Sunjata speaks again, when he offers his apology and the weight behind it, the queen shifts to lean into his shoulder. "I know," she says softly. "I know what it’s like, coming back when the infection is gone and everything’s louder and messier than it was before. I get it." She smiles a little, small and wry. "It isn't your fault. Or hers, really. It isn't anyone's."

// now we are hanging out in the backyard //

Snorting, the Flood does find it easier to laugh about the moment these days than he had thinking about it previously. So he inclines his head with a low hum of a sigh. “I think the only thing that kept her from doing it again was Nate.” Because he couldn’t very well explain himself if he was dead, right? At least that’s what Sunjata thinks.

But all humor fades for the realization and her quiet voice, the understanding that Jack had done it as favors. Which.. Sunjata had too, but somehow it felt different. It isn’t until she mentions the void warding necklace, or something, that Sunjata feels the weight of the charm against his broad, tattooed chest. “Shit. That’s… A lot.” He murmurs with a touch of sorrow for her – because he’d probably lose his shit. And he partially wonders why she hasn’t completely lost her mind from that either.

Maybe the circumstances were different.

She leans into his shoulder as his apology comes, though, in regards to her mother and the Flood nods – returning to wrapping his arm around her shoulders to offer what warmth and comfort he can to Torchline’s Queen. “Eh, I’d say it’s the Family’s. Fuckin’ assholes that they are.” His accent slips through a little thicker here, paired with the sensation of a heavy sigh with how his chest flexes with the inhale. “Well.. I know it doesn’t have the protection you’re probably looking for, but you do know that there’s a place for you here if you ever need to get away for some time.” Whether it’s a night or a week, Sunjata would make sure she had whatever she needed.

Times were hard, after all.

the flood

// looking at a new point of view //

marked me like a bloodstain

Flora lets the weight of him sink in beside her, lets his arm fold around her shoulders like armour that doesn’t ask her to be anything but tired and still for a moment. Her cheek tips briefly against his shoulder. "Yeah," she murmurs, her lips twitching faintly. "Definitely the Family’s fault. Maybe Dahlia can sprout a conscience and choke on it."

The joke doesn’t quite land—it’s bitter, not funny—but the thought still brings a flicker of satisfaction before his offer catches her off guard. Her head lifts slightly, brows tugging upward as she glances at him, and for a second she just… looks at him. At the floodplain of strength and exhaustion, he carries like a second skin, at the softness buried beneath all that Korofi steel.

"Thanks," she says, quieter now. "I might actually take you up on that. Hadama is...pretty pissed at me as well." Her fingers curl around her cider again, but she doesn’t drink. "You’re the first person to offer that, you know."

// now we are hanging out in the backyard //

“Only choke?” He hums, before a glimpse of his darker nature slips through, the kind that he’d harbored years ago before he’d become tempered and even. The joke sours just as it had when Flora released it, and Sunjata finishes it quite unknowingly. “I’m sure I’m not the first on it, but I would love to drown her.” By his own hand, choking on both her conscious and the water until she couldn’t breathe ever again.

Though who knows what kind of weird shit they had, whether she’d probably be able to breathe water. Wrinkling his nose, the expression vanishes almost immediately to hear Flora’s response. All darkness breaks the storm clouds of his silver stare, meeting her blues with a glimmer of surprise breaking through them like sunlight on a river’s rapids. “So he’s got emotions, huh?” He teases softly, despite it not being a joking matter, and his arm squeezes her gently when she admits no one else has offered it.

That part certainly surprises him. “Well, first or not, the sentiment is the same. You’re always welcome here. Whether you need a reason or you don’t. We’re happy to have you.” He murmurs softly, all warmth and albeit, a fatherly protectiveness he can’t help but to share.

the flood

// looking at a new point of view //

marked me like a bloodstain

Flora chuckles, low and tired, but with a flash of wickedness in her grin. "Drowning would be very on brand for you," she says, voice curling like smoke around the words. "When it inevitably happens, I want a front row seat. Preferably with snacks." Her eyes glitter as they catch his, but it softens a moment later at the squeeze of his arm.

The jab at Hadama earns another huff of laughter, smaller this time. "Right? Emotions. Who knew." She raises her glass for one final sip of cider, draining it before leaning into Sunjata’s side with the ease of someone who isn’t used to being offered solid ground, but finds herself grateful for it when it’s there.

"I really mean it," she murmurs, a bit more serious now. "Thanks. Given I won’t be allowed in my own godsdamn city much longer, I have a feeling you’ll be seeing a lot more of me around here." There’s no venom in it tonight, just resignation and a dash of dry humour.

Flora lets herself enjoy the quiet, the weight of the moment. Then, with a slow stretch and a sigh, she pulls herself up. "I’ve been looking forward to that feather bed I booked like it’s my birthday," she groans, rubbing the back of her neck before bending to press a kiss to Sunjata’s cheek. "See you tomorrow?" she murmurs sleepily, before giving his shoulder a squeeze and heading toward the corridor which would lead her to her room.

~FIN