no second thoughts

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

The Hanged Man still smells like rum-soaked wood and too many stories, but there’s something new stitched into its bones now—something glimmering just beneath the surface. Light filters through stained glass windows in sea-swept hues, casting coral blues and kelp greens across the worn floorboards. The upholstery’s been refreshed in lush, celestial fabrics. The lighting, too, is different: softer, warmer, casting everything in the flattering glow of twilight on open water. And glitter. So much glitter. Still clinging to the corners of tabletops, sparkling between floorboards, and drifting lazily down from the rafters like confetti that never quite settled after the triplets' birthday.

The door swings open with the flair of someone who’s never once entered a room quietly, and Flora steps through as if she owns the place. (She doesn’t—not anymore—but the bar still hums with memory when she crosses the threshold, like the walls remember her boots on the floor and her laugh above the din.) She’s in high-waisted shorts and a breezy blouse knotted at the waist, gold rings glittering on her fingers, and her curls are piled up like spun honey, held together with a comb that might’ve once belonged to a mermaid but was probably something pretty she'd just snagged from the market.

Perched imperiously on her shoulder, Spice flicks her tail and releases a very dainty puff of frost, as if announcing royalty.

"Hellooooooooo!" Flora calls, dropping onto a barstool with the ease of someone returning to a throne. Her grin is all teeth and sunshine, eyes sweeping the back room with lazy curiosity. "I swear if someone doesn’t pour me something scandalous in the next thirty seconds, I’m putting myself on payroll again."

know i'll stay beside that telephone line

Leafchange brings with it a muted sunlight over the whole of Torchline. One that Calypso mirrors in the way she also seems particularly dimmed despite how she’s currently reorganizing the cupboard by the door on the inside of the bar - knelt below the new stained glass window that’s been put in the perfect spot to let the golden stained appearance filter across the bar in gilded and red light.

It’s apparently perfectly placed, however, because as she hears the familiar voice of Flora, something in her stirs. She remains knelt for a few moments longer, exhaling slowly to ready herself, before she’s standing - flashing Flora a sunny smile that’s dripping in gold and red from the stained glass as it offers all the light that she feels has been snuffed out as of late.

Like a candle shaken where the flame isn’t as strong, she’s sure it’ll come back once the ground beneath her feet finally settles. “Hey Flora. Comin’ right up.” She doesn’t even respond to the comment of putting herself back on payroll, even if the thought crosses her mind sure, take it back too.

Instead, she snags the mixing glass and a few particular bottles that don’t get that much use these days, but she’d asked for something scandalous, and Caly’s happy to provide. In the mixing glass goes rye whiskey, a botanical bitters, cognac, and a sugar cube amongst the ice. And as she mixes it, she lets her left hand stir while she snags a rocks glass, spritzing the inside with a dose of absinthe before putting the ice cubes within it. Popping a strainer on the mixing glass, she pours it into the glass and garnishes it with a twist of a lemon peel.

The liquid is dark and amber, not unlike her eyes that flit up to meet the Queen’s face as she slides the glass over toward her. “S’called a Sazerac. Perfectly scandalous if y’ask me.” Then, without much more, she gets to work cleaning up.

Calypso

and tomorrow we might steal the sun from underneath our eyes

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

Flora’s grin stretches wider the moment Calypso emerges, touched by the ruby-and-honeylight spilling from the stained glass. She doesn’t say anything at first—just watches her friend move behind the bar, quiet admiration softening the sharp line of her smile. There’s something easy in the way Caly works now, like she’s always belonged behind the polished wood and bottles.

By the time the Sazerac is slid across the counter, Flora’s brows have arched in thoroughly impressed approval. She hums low in her throat, fingers curling around the glass like it’s just been handed to her by a lover. "Oooh," she croons, lifting it to her lips with a wink. "Dark and scandalous. Just my type."

The first sip brings a quiet exhale, lemon twist catching on the rim like punctuation. "Mm. Okay, you’re officially amazing, this is delicious." She taps the side of the glass in appreciation, then sets it down just long enough to flash Calypso a warmer, gentler smile—one that sits somewhere between proud and a little late to the party.

"I heard it was your birthday," she says, voice softening like the light around them. "Happy belated. Sorry I couldn’t make it." There’s no elaboration—Caly was well away of the reasons the queen couldn't be in the city—but the weight of sincerity rests in her tone, bright and real as the glitter still clinging to the walls. "Looked like a hell of a party, though." Her gaze flicks to the lingering shimmer in the rafters. "Place still sparkles like you shook up bottle of champagne with starlight in it."

know i'll stay beside that telephone line

She has half a mind to emit a shitty comment, like Jack? but Caly’s already trying to move past it, even though the praise that comes after has the young attuned twisting back to flash a sunny smile back at the Doubletake. “Thanks. I’ve had time t’practice.” As the glasses sit to dry, she twists back to Flora, drying her hands with a towel that she drapes over her shoulder with ease, leaning against the bar with all the lanquidity of a cat.

Nodding, her smile remains just as masked sunshine, the artificial light in the room when the sun was beyond the clouds. “Yeah? Kai told ya?” This is asked carefully, casually, like she didn’t imagine him leaving her birthday party after getting kicked out and running straight for the Sugar Tide.

Even though she had. Over and over again.

Her gaze follows Flora’s up to the rafters of the Hanged Man and the glitter that still clings to the grooves in the bartop despite how much scrubbing had gone into it. “Nova and her glitter, what can ya do? She made us all matchin’ hats ‘n that shit got everywhere. It was even before the glitter cannons went off.” Whether there was or wasn’t a glitter cannon, Caly isn’t so sure. She’d immediately gone and gotten a bottle or two to drown out the fire in her soul.

“Soooo, how’s bein’ back in Haulani treatin’ ya?” She asks, trying to return to her friendliness, like she can warm up the edges of her that have grown cold.

Calypso

and tomorrow we might steal the sun from underneath our eyes

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

Flora sets her glass down with a soft clink, the condensation leaving a perfect little ring on the bartop she used to polish herself. The Sazerac sits forgotten for a moment as her gaze flicks toward Caly; not pitying, not dramatic, just...knowing, the way girls tend to when they hear that sort of tone. "Yeah," she murmurs, nodding, opting not to play coy about it. "He came to find me after I got attacked by Dahlia." Her tone is light but dry, as though getting nearly unspined by an alien invader was simply inconvenient. "I ended up in King’s End to rest, and like the good friend he is, he wanted to make sure I was okay." Her brows lift faintly "—you were pretty much all he talked about once he saw that I was," she adds with a smile.

Flora leans her elbows against the bar, fingers absently circling the rim of her glass. "Said he made an ass of himself at your party." She wrinkles her nose, a wry little grimace that tries to soften the edges of everything else left unspoken. "I think he feels super bad about it."

She lets that linger just long enough to mean something, but not long enough to demand anything, before catching the tail end of Caly’s glitter commentary and laughing softly. "Glitter cannons sound exactly like something Nova would weaponize."

Lifting her glass again, she takes another sip, eyes briefly closing at the warmth it coils down her spine. At Caly’s question, she exhales slowly and leans back on the stool, giving a small shrug. "Haulani’s..." She turns the glass in her hand, watching the light catch the amber swirl. "I’m settling back in. Slowly." She doesn’t offer more—won’t mention how the bar still hums under her skin, or how the corners of it feel different without her fingerprints—and instead gives Caly a small, real smile. "It makes me feel better knowing that you three are here, though."

know i'll stay beside that telephone line

Caly nods as Flora explains, settling herself with a soft little inhale that’s an attempt to brace herself when her amber gaze flits back to Flora when she mentions Dahlia. “I’m sorry.” About the attack. As much as she feels tangled up inside about the entirety that is Flora x Kaisel in her mind, she doesn’t want Flora to suffer from Dahlia’s hands. And at least that won’t happen ever again.

But she continues, and the attuned remains leaning against the bar, letting a small smile tug on the corner of her lips to hear that he’d talked about her. As for the party, a soft laugh leaves her before she sighs and nods. “It was a pretty shitty time to find out, to be honest.” She says, not hiding her thoughts or feelings on the matter because what good would it do?

Nothing.

As for the glitter cannons, Caly snorts — because if anyone could weaponize glitter, it was her sister. But she’s more focused on the answer she receives about Haulani, going so far as to snag a condensing glass of water with a twist of lime, taking a slow sip of it when the real smile blooms her way. “It’s been good here. Feels alive, y’know?” The concern Flora had beforehand, when Caly had offered to take it over. The Hanged Man wasn’t suffering a slow death, it was thriving.

But… She can’t let it lie, either, and with a sigh as she sets the glass down, her amber gaze flits back to Flora with something hesitant in it. “What is between you an’ Kai? Friends with benefits or.. what?” Her tone is a touch deadpan, losing the luster of the gilded purred words that usually leave her for brisk and utter honesty.

Calypso

and tomorrow we might steal the sun from underneath our eyes

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

Flora smiles gently at Caly’s quiet sorry, her head dipping in appreciation without making a thing of it. The bar feels like a good place for honesty, somehow—maybe because so much of her old life is soaked into the floorboards, or maybe just because the attuned is the one asking.

"Yeah," she says softly, swirling the last of her drink as she speaks. "Torchline feeling alive is what drew me and Enzo here in the first place. We were just kids from the Greatwood who didn’t want to feel stuck anymore." Her lips tug into a wistful, lopsided smile. "That kind of energy? You can’t help but chase it."

But the next question comes without preamble—brisk, bare, and brave—and Flora has to respect the hell out of that. She sets her glass down properly, both palms braced flat against the bartop as she straightens, no squirming, no sugar-coating. Just truth. "The night we slept together was right after Pierce’s pool party," she says, voice level but not defensive. "I was a mess and Kai was the only one who came to check up on me," Her brows arch slightly, gaze never leaving Caly’s. "And it was before you two had even gone on your date, so when I asked him to stay over...it didn't feel like I was stepping on anyone's toes."

Her breath flutters a little, not from guilt but from the weight of navigating this thing with care. "That said—" her fingers toy briefly with one of her rings, "—I’m absolutely not over Jack." Her cheeks flush with heat, not just because of the feel the captain's name left on her lips, but also because it was weird to have been dating Caly's dad when they were basically the same age.

"But also, I know Kaisel really likes you. He talked about your Halo date like it was the most amazing thing he'd ever experienced."

know i'll stay beside that telephone line

“I only ever watched Torchline when I was up there.” Nodding her head toward the stars, Caly’s amber gaze returns to Flora with a small smile. “Studied it ’n thrived with it. Everything else was just… background noise.” She shrugs, fingertips trailing through the puddle of condensation left behind, drawing lines in undetermined shapes when the true crux of the issue comes to light.

And honestly, the explanation does help, but it doesn’t quite rid her of the inferiority she feels. Even when Flora mentions that she isn’t over Jack, one of the other problems that Kai had, instigating a fight with her father and Flora’s ex. She feels like she deflates, both elbows braced on the bar top now where she leans against it, her chin propped up on her fists. “I like him too.” She admits, something gentler and fragile in the words that she doesn’t ever let out.

Which is why it hurt so bad. “I just.. I dunno, Flora. I mean, you’re you, and I admire the fuck outta you. An’ even though he says he likes me ’n talks about our dates or whatever, he’s always gonna go to bat for you whether it’s smart or not.” Her nose wrinkles a little, trying to figure out the wording she wants. “Like pickin’ a fight with Jack, which he didn’t tell me about. Nor how close y’are. It just..” Straightening herself out so she leans against the back counter of the bar, her arms cross against her chest as the next words burn like solar flares from her tongue, her gaze drifting from the Queen.

“I feel like I can’t compare. I’m never gonna be you. I’m always gonna be Jack’s kid. An’ if it’s between me or you, I feel like he’s always gonna pick you. And the worst part is that I fuckin’ get it.” Not that she wants to take Kai away from Flora, after everything she’s been through. But she doesn’t want to come in second.

Calypso

and tomorrow we might steal the sun from underneath our eyes

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

Flora lets out a warm, honest laugh at the image of Caly watching Torchline from the stars like it was her own personal soap opera. "I can’t imagine what that must’ve looked like," she muses, swirling the remnants of her drink. "But I bet even from all the way up there, Torchline still managed to sparkle harder than the rest." Her grin lingers, soft at the edges, fond despite everything that sits tangled between them now.

But when Caly leans in and says her name—like it’s some untouchable monolith of comparison—Flora’s smile fades into something gentler, more real as she listens. And when Caly says I get it, Flora winces, not from guilt, but because she knows exactly what it feels like to be the one left wondering if you’ll ever be enough. Still, when she speaks, there’s no pity, just conviction. "I don’t think it’s a bad trait, knowing the guy you like will go to bat for you," she says with a tilt of her head, tone edged with something wry but warm. "Even if it’s against a super dangerous man like my ex-boyfriend-slash-your-dad, who he has zero business going after." Her brows lift knowingly. "That’s just who Kaisel is. He stands up for people, does what he thinks right, even if it's something as stupid as goading Jack into a fight."

She leans forward slightly, fingers tapping idly at her glass. "As for not knowing how close we were...Caly, how awkward would it have been for him to list off every girl he’s tight with the night you met?" Her smirk resurfaces, equal parts playful and pointed. "And he did go home with you that night. Not me. I was just as single then, and I was right there."

The teasing fades as Flora straightens a bit, her voice softening again. "You’re a hell of a lot more than just Jack’s kid. You’re Safrin’s daughter, for one. You’ve got enough gold in your blood to blind the sun." She reaches across the bar, nudging Caly’s hand if she’ll let her. "I’ve just had a little more time to mess up and do dumb, wild shit along the way. But you? You’ve got the same fire, the same fight. You’re gonna do just as much—and probably way more—and you’ll do it all your own way."

Flora lifts her glass again, but pauses before the sip. "I don't want to get between whatever happens between you and Kai." She sets the glass back down gently, fingers splaying along the rim. "So I just wanted you to know that there's not, like, some sketchy thing going on in the background."

know i'll stay beside that telephone line

“It sure did.” Caly agrees softly, because Torchline always had that certain sparkle to draw the eye. It’s part of the reason why she loved it so much, that and the sunsets, watching the sky melt into golden red, to fiery orange, to purple and blues.

But that’s not what they’re talking about, and the sunset can only bolster her feelings so much as she explains the issues she has. She can hear the conviction in Flora’s voice, the certainty that she’s positive that it isn’t a bad trait — which it isn’t, but how is she to know that if they both were in danger, that he wouldn’t go to save Flora over herself?

“It was stupid.” A sigh of resignation leaves her, her weight shifting so her hip bumps against the bar top. And while yes, Kai had gone with her that night, it wasn’t before he’d made a point to start something with her, break it off halfway through to go running back to Flora for the dance. That part flares in her mind, too.

Her amber gaze flits to the hand that nudges hers, the young attuned finally opening up to snag the glass of lime and water to take a sip from it, almost feeling as if Flora’s words are coming off more placating than helpful. She wants to believe them, but the events that have lead up thus far keep making her think otherwise.

So she sighs, tucks a few blonde curls behind her ear, leans against the bar back toward Flora with a nod and a small masked smile that curls on her painted lips. “Thanks Flora. I appreciate it.” She still doesn’t believe it entirely, but she can believe Flora’s side. Which means she probably does need to reach out to Kai later and actually talk about it further. "Guess we'll see how it goes when I talk to him next."

Calypso

and tomorrow we might steal the sun from underneath our eyes

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

Flora clocks the shift the moment it happens—that soft thanks paired with a smile that doesn’t quite reach the eyes. She’s seen enough masks to know when one’s been slipped on, and while she doesn’t blame Caly for wearing it, it leaves something faintly hollow in Flora’s chest all the same. Maybe she thought her honesty would help more than it did. Maybe it just needs time to settle. After all, logic rarely changes the shape of a bruise, especially not when it lives somewhere tender.

Clearing her throat lightly, Flora tips back the last of her Sazerac and lets it burn down smooth. "Deliciously scandalous," she says with a grin, nodding at the glass in appreciation. Rather than pass it back, Flora rises and slips easily behind the bar—her body remembering the rhythm of this place like an old song—and gives the glass a quick rinse herself, careful not to drip on any of Nova’s still-glittering surfaces. When she’s done, she dries her hands on a towel, then reaches out to gently squeeze Caly’s shoulder.

"Let’s go for a swim sometime," she offers, warm and easy, not pushing for anything more than what the moment will allow. "Or maybe a shopping date." With a last glimmer of a smile, she slips back out from behind the bar, curls bouncing as she moves toward the door, her voice trailing over her shoulder like a tide retreating. "You know where to find me if you need anything."

~FIN