no sugarcoating it

He'd been to the market in Halo dozens of times; but mostly bumbling beside his mother or father, distracted by everything that moved. The only thing that had changed now was that he could maneuver properly under his own power; gangly limbs threading his way through the square in the hopes of finding the right treats for his newfound errand and earned pocket money.

There was no way his dad would’ve permitted some amount of wandering without supervision though, so Zuriel trailed alongside. He’d asked for Belial, but Deimos had known far better than permitting the two of them to do anything on their own, so he sauntered and skipped with the mare, twining his fingers along her mane or scratching upon her withers, parting along the crowds. Shoving his luxere hat further down his head of wild curls, he paused, sniffing the air, already pondering the food at the trail end of such aromas. “Dad said to pick up a couple bags of candy, but what if-,”

The mere suggestion earned him a glare, so he sighed. “It’s like having two of you,” he uttered, but with a grand smile regardless, before sauntering towards said candy shop. He’d have to leave Zuriel outside, but that meant there’d be some allowance for sauntering off the beaten path. Grabbing at the door handle, he listened to the little jingle and bell announcing his presence, before waving towards the owner with a bright grin, and zipping towards the chocolate area.

erebos

and then we dream so much

i can't help it if i want to kiss you in the rain, so

Flora feels like a walking hearth in reverse, a little sun-drenched creature trying to drag her Torchline blood through Halo’s stubborn chill. Even in Flowerbirth, the cold presses at her seams, nosing under the oversized coat she’s wrapped around herself like a portable duvet. Her curls are tucked messily into a knitted ear-band someone insisted she buy at the gate, and Spice is a tiny lump inside her collar, radiating frost instead of heat and somehow making the whole situation worse.

She’s planted squarely in front of a display of chocolates, the warm little shop glowing with amber light that smells like sugar and roasted nuts and things she absolutely does not need but is absolutely going to buy. For the northern lights trip. For her and Kaisel. For the romance. For the vibes.

Her gloved fingers lift a bag of dinosaur-shaped chocolates, their glossy little faces promising fruit-filled joy. In the other hand: a chocolate checkers set, unnecessarily adorable, with tiny dark-and-milk pieces shaped like crowns. She tilts her head, humming under her breath, caught between the two. Dinosaurs feel chaotic and fun. Checkers feels cosy and date-night cute. And both feel like the kind of thing you bring when you’re trying—carefully, secretly—to create memories instead of disasters.

She barely notices the quiet presence that slips in beside her until she glances down and finds a boy with wild curls and a luxere hat staring at the same shelf with heroic intensity. He looks maybe eight? Nine? Hard to tell beneath the hat, but definitely small, definitely determined, and definitely the sort of child who takes candy selection as seriously as international diplomacy.

Holding both chocolate options up, Flora angles them toward him with a conspiratorial little lift of her brows, voice warm and musical despite her teeth wanting to chatter. "Hey, you," she murmurs, leaning just enough to make it clear she is absolutely soliciting his professional opinion. "Which one do you think looks better?" Her aqua eyes dance between the dinosaurs and the checkers, then back to him, playful and dramatic in equal measure. "Be honest. My whole future might hinge on this."

The whole chocolate display was certainly entrancing. His gaze shifted from one shelf to another, broadening his horizons just on the potential for so many sweet, wonderful things. Sure, they had a ton back at home, but even his parents couldn’t solicit the entire candy shop into their cabinets, though he didn’t doubt that they might have tried. The star-shaped, clearly Safrin designated, ornamentations looked dazzling, with flecked glitter and edible resin along the sides, but then there were the portions in a bag nearby that had some pretzels dipped in fudge and caramel, then the toffee…and the peppermint bark –

Though it appeared he wasn’t the only one slightly overwhelmed, because no sooner had his young little mind been short-circuiting over his own choices and prospects, then another stepped nearby, asking for his opinion. Bright-eyed, he looked upwards, narrowing his stare for a second as recognition began to click into place. “Hi! Aren’t you Flora?” On another thought, he bowed his head a little lower, quick to recognize royalty and titles, then quieted his tones as a few glanced over, the pitch of his enthusiasm potentially drawing attention.

On a more conspiracy-laden note, he tilted his head, finally going back to what she’d initially asked him about. “Oh, those are good.” He chanced a glance to see if any of the reptile ones were still there, before his eyes returned to Flora. “If I were you, I’d go for the dinosaurs,” because as a boy of seven, those held appeal, and yes, could potentially hinge on future exploits. Then he grinned at her, full of mischief along with that innocent endeavor of veracity and charm. “But, why can’t you take both?”

erebos

and then we dream so much

i can't help it if i want to kiss you in the rain, so

Flora blinks at the sound of her own name tumbling so easily out of the boy's mouth, surprise softening her expression before she can tuck it away. She’s used to being recognized by adults, by gossiping teenagers, by the sort of people who keep an eye on Torchline’s queen because she tends to leave footprints in the sand whether she means to or not, but by a child? Barely tall enough to reach the nougat shelf? That throws her entirely off balance in the warmest, strangest way.

A crooked grin tugs at her lips, something bright and sheepish all at once. "Errr...yeah. I am." The admission comes with a little scrunch of her nose as she leans closer, lowering her voice as if they’re sharing a secret instead of a title. "Sorry, I don’t know who you are." It’s honest rather than apologetic, her tone warm and almost amused by the odd mismatch between their familiarity.

At his verdict she glances down at the dinosaurs, and the thought of Kaisel discovering fruit-filled little triceratops is enough to tip the scales on its own. The tilt of her head grows thoughtful for a moment, then brightens at the boy’s follow-up suggestion. Both. Of course a seven-year-old would think like that, and of course he would be right.

"Well," she says with theatrical deliberation, "I was planning to get other kinds of candy too, and I didn’t want to overdo it on the chocolate, but..." Her grin crescendos into something conspiratorial and triumphant as she drops both the dinosaurs and the checkers game into her basket with a rustle of cellophane and a flourish of gloved fingers. "I think you’ve convinced me."

Her curls bounce as she turns the basket slightly so he can see the new additions, pride glittering in her aqua eyes as if he’s just helped her solve a diplomatic crisis instead of a confectionery dilemma. "Anything else in here you’re particularly fond of?" she asks, her voice warm and lilting, as though they’re co-conspirators in the very serious business of sweets.

Hey, what's that? Out of the corner of your eye, you see a colourful, hand-painted egg. Perhaps it's sitting amidst some flowers, on a tree branch, next to a river, or in a merchant's shop, but wherever it is, it doesn't seem to be accidentally placed there. On one side you see a painted hot air balloon. Maybe it has something to do with the upcoming festival!

Go ahead and pick it up!

---

You've found a painted egg!. Whoever is next to post in this thread will be the first one to see the egg, but if they wish to give it to someone else, they're more than welcome! No need to post in account updates, just keep track of this thread and pick up your egg IC!

Unaware of the confusion, his eyes went back to the peppermint bark, sizing it up over toffees and caramels, but then debating, at war with himself, over precious varieties and things he might’ve already had at home. The notions remained firmly befuddling until her admission forced his attention back on the lady, and he grinned, despite the lack of knowing who he was. All of Halo might have, but that didn’t mean others would, and that was okay. “I’m Erebos,” he extended warmly, uncertain if that required further explanation.

But then his deliberation skills seemed to be wholly convincing, and his smile brightened, gaze content at the choices. “I don’t think you can overdo chocolate,” which probably could’ve been a family motto. “You should get some of those hot cocoa bombs too,” he offered, pointing towards the stack of different flavors nearby, some crafted to look like gingerbread or peppermint twists.

As for his own dilemmas, the beam of his wake didn’t dim, but there was a familiar, and familial, wrinkle to his nose at the inquiry. “A lot of it, but I haven’t tried everything yet.” Plucking at the bag of caramel dipped pretzels, he lifted them upwards for her inspection. “Have you had these before?”

Then, oddly enough, beside the moved portions, was a hand-painted egg. Curiosity emboldened, and he snagged at that too, blinking with slight confusion at it. After all, the artistry, while very nice, didn’t quite fit the mold of the candy shop. “Huh.  Where’d this come from?”

erebos

and then we dream so much

i can't help it if i want to kiss you in the rain, so

Flora’s reaction arrives in a rush of bright, delighted shock that sweeps across her face before she can even pretend at composure. Her aqua eyes go wide, the surprise opening through her like a window catching warm wind. "Shut up," she blurts—soft, disbelieving, absolutely charmed—before catching herself and adding with a laugh, "No way!" Because of course it's Deimos' son. A little terror of curls and bright eyes and curiosity, except now big enough to hold conversations and pick out candy and apparently lecture her on chocolate volume. She pieces it together in a heartbeat, warmth spreading through her expression as she looks at him with new understanding, new fondness. "Crazy, I've only seen you as a baby."

When he points toward the display of cocoa bombs, Flora swivels to study them with the kind of serious contemplation usually reserved for political treaties. Then she looks back at him and nods sagely, dramatically. "You’re very wise," she declares before reaching out and scooping several flavours off the shelf with the enthusiasm of a pirate raiding a treasure chest. She drops them haphazardly into her basket which is growing heavier by the minute.

When he lifts the bag of caramel-dipped pretzels, Flora makes an appreciative little noise in her throat and shakes her head. "Never have," she admits, tilting her basket toward him in invitation. "But I trust your judgement, so." Her glove taps the rim of her basket to punctuate the approval.

As he reaches for the next mysterious treasure—a hand-painted egg perched low on a shelf where she'd never have seen it—Flora leans in, her brows nudging upward. "Oh," she murmurs, the syllable stretched in curious amusement as she studies the unexpected ornament. "Weird." But then she flashes him a grin. "Finders keepers!"

---

Flora says Erebos should take the egg!

He was somewhat relieved by her expressions and disbelief; he’d already endured the worry, and then the questions, and to receive neither, only laughter, made the beacon of his smile persist and continue. Like a little ray of sun he turned his features back towards her, granting his own little chuckles. “Yeah, I grew up at a shrine,” he offered with a shrug, unaware she’d be inclined to understand.

But then there were cocoa bombs and his own sagacity, at which he took at face value, eyes widening, letting it sink into his chest and mind. As she deliberated, or…didn’t, as it were, he grinned, very impish and juvenile, watching as she scooped multitudes off the shelf. “That should keep you for a while. Halo’s cocoa is the best.” He could say, because he hadn’t procured any from other regions yet, and they should have something to boast about in the warm drinks department, given their climate.

He wouldn’t receive any recommendations on the pretzels though, save for the trust in his particular brand of wisdom, and he dropped them into his basket without further consideration. “All right, one to go then,” and he would’ve snagged at the peppermint bark, but the egg itself had become a whole other distraction. When Flora didn’t have an explanation, the finders keepers proclamation was enough to set his smile even wider, placing it gently amongst the pretzels. “Losers weepers,” he murmured in response, humming it a little under his breath. “Were you looking for anything else?”

erebos

and then we dream so much

i can't help it if i want to kiss you in the rain, so

Flora’s grin warms into something softer at his easy pride, the way he accepts her surprise without flinching into defensiveness or embarrassment. He just shines with it, like someone whose edges haven’t yet been sanded down by the world. When he mentions growing up at a shrine, she lets out a low hum of recognition, tilting her head. "Me too," she says, crooked smile lifting. "My twin and I grew up at one in the Greatwood." Her nose wrinkles lightly, playful and conspiratorial."Kinda weird, huh?"

His commentary about Halo’s cocoa pulls a laugh from her, bright and musical in the small shop. "I believe you," she says as she shifts her basket, the cocoa bombs settling with a soft clatter. "Torchline didn’t really do hot cocoa. Lots of cold drinks, though, slushies, fruit crushes, cocktails by the beach." Her voice softens around the memory, warm sunlight threaded into the words before she pulls herself back into the winter-bright present.

She watches Erebos tuck the mysterious egg into his basket with the air of a seasoned treasure hunter, her laugh blooming again. "Exactly," she echoes, delighted by the youthful certainty of losers weepers.

When he asks if she’s hunting anything else, Flora turns in a slow semi-circle, scanning shelves full of caramels, mints, brittles, fudges, oddly shaped gummies, and cellophane bags sparkling like captured snowflakes. Then she looks back down at him, curls bouncing around her cheeks, playful curiosity sparking in her aqua eyes. "I dunno," she says, leaning a little closer as though seeking expert consultation. "Do you think I missed anything good?"

His eyes widened, again momentarily distracted from the candy, at her reveal. “Oh, cool! I didn’t know that.” He grinned again, though the question left him pondering, never really quite sure how to put it into words. “Yeah, I guess. But I didn’t want to be a baby forever, y’know,” he shrugged. Obviously he wouldn’t have been, but the concept of time was a difficult one for most. Then there was the matter of wanting to do more than toddle around, running after large shadows. He craved to be alongside. “And you like-,” he searched for the word, brows furrowing in concentration, then settling on the simpler aspects. “Were okay and everything?” Had the adjustment been decent? Had there been steep learning curves? Given her stature currently in life, he'd have to argue everything had been fine - but Erebos held innocence and ignorance rolled into youthful wishes.

At least she took his cocoa commendations, and he smiled once more, imagining slushies. But then there were other speculations to harken upon, and with the wide array of candy before him, all delightful (well, the ones he’d already tried, anyway), he began pointing out several key components. “Well, these are really, really good,” as he directed her attention towards the malted milk balls, now coming in memory snow formations, “and those are amazing,” speculating at the vast expansion of fudge flavors. “Depends on what kind of stuff you like!” He’d be apt to believe this place had it all, but that was probably impossible in the little corner of Halo.

erebos

and then we dream so much

i can't help it if i want to kiss you in the rain, so

Flora’s brows lift in a playful bounce, warmth rippling through her expression as she studies the boy with an ease that only grows the longer they stand together. "Well, the good news," she says lightly, tipping her head toward the top shelves stacked high with glittering cellophane, "is that if you ever get tired of not being able to reach things, you can always do it again." A little shrug follows, casual and amused, as though she’s offering him an insider trick rather than existential advice on skirting aging.

When he asks if she was okay—if the adjustment was fine, if she managed—her smile softens around the edges. She shifts the weight of her basket to her hip, curls slipping forward as she inclines her head toward him. "It was easier having a twin to go through it with, not gonna lie," she admits, tone warm but threaded with something quieter, a faint shimmer of memory she keeps mostly tucked away. "But honestly? The only important thing to know is that no one ever really knows what they’re doing."

She leans a little closer, lowering her voice just enough to make it feel like something he’s meant to hold onto. "If you see other kids and think you’re missing out, or that they know something you don’t?" She shakes her head gently, curls brushing her cheeks. "Everyone feels that way. Even the ones who didn’t age up. Even grown-ups. They’re just better at pretending."

The moment stretches warmly between them before she starts adding each of his recommendations into her basket, the malted milk balls, the fudge, anything he pointed at with enthusiasm. The sweets rustle as they settle, a little avalanche of indulgence and good intentions. "I definitely have a sweet tooth," she says with a grin that curves bright and teasing, "but my boyfriend has a whole sweet mouth. If it’s covered in sugar, he’ll inhale it."

She turns to the shelves, nodding at Erebos. "Go on," she says warmly. "Grab a few for yourself. My treat. Payment for your expert guidance."

His eyes watched, waiting for something, as she pinpointed on notions of stature and height, grinning again at the implications. “Yeah, I guess! Mom says I’m going to be tall though.” So maybe he wouldn’t have to do it quite so quickly; but then again, the impulses could be working far more efficiently than any amount of crucial, critical thinking.

The other words weren’t something he expected. Twins was a wholly different thing – he did have Amham, but the demigod had arrived fully formed while Erebos was a newborn, and amidst the myriad of inquiries, the only explanation had been Rae. The mere notion that adults didn’t know what they were doing, however, seemed to be a shocking addition to his mind, mouth dropping to gasp. “Really? Because everyone always seems to know what’s going on.” His parents, other adults floating around Halo. He hadn’t had a vast array of experiences yet, but the whole of the Citadel seemed to flicker around like clockwork. Lowering his voice to match her pitch, the wonder in his gaze didn’t fade; wholly grasping onto things and figments and potentials. “Are there things you don’t know too?” Weren’t Queens and Wardens and all those other people supposed to regard everything?

Amidst these bewildering statements were still the confections though, and he watched as she indulged, his grin becoming toothy and wide. Very impressed she’d gone to these great lengths, and followed his advice, he continued on, steering towards more baked good portions, left by some other Halovian vendros. “Maybe he’ll really like these then!” pointing towards a package of snowball cookies, finely dusted and powdered in the fine, white sugar, each containing some symbolic portions of Halo – frost foxes, luxere, and the like – in etched, edible detailing that some might not bother to notice as they were inhaled.

And when she made such a grand gesture thereafter, his eyes widened again. Used to being indulged by his parents, to a certain extent, he hadn’t counted on others doing the same. As a form of payment seemed much more fitting, so he nodded, taking it seriously as his brows furrowed in concentration. “Only if you’re sure,” he added, waiting for her to take it back, before the covetous aspects of his mind went onward, and he snatched at a bag of lemon drops, the aforementioned snowballs, and then distracting himself with chocolate oranges.

erebos

and then we dream so much

i can't help it if i want to kiss you in the rain, so

Flora’s grin folds into something warm and bright at the certainty in his voice, his confidence in his mother’s prediction lifting her mood even further. "I’ve only met your mom a few times," she says, the words lilting with easy sincerity, "but she’s pretty smart. If she says you’re going to be tall, I’d put my money on it."

His wide-eyed shock at the idea of adults not knowing everything pulls a laugh from her, soft and melodic in the cosy little shop. She shakes her head with an exaggerated wrinkle of her nose, curls brushing her cheeks. "Nah. They’re all just really good at faking it." Then she gestures around them with a sweep of her gloved hand, her laughter blooming again. "I mean, I couldn’t even pick out candy without your help. That should tell you everything."

Flora scoops the snowball cookies he recommends into her already overburdened basket, giving an approving nod at the delicate etched detailing. It feels like a very Halo thing to bring on a trip meant to watch the world turn to shimmering colours. "Perfect," she murmurs, before offering him another reassuring smile when he checks if she’s sure. "Absolutely."

Flora heads toward the counter, and as the shopkeeper rings through the mound of cocoa bombs, dinosaur chocolates, pretzels, lemon drops, snowball cookies, chocolate oranges, memory-snow malted balls, and all the sugary treasures heaved onto the counter, Flora doesn’t hesitate in settling the payment for both her haul and Erebos’s. Her fingers are quick, practiced, the gesture as easy as breathing. "I’ve got to get back and pack," she says as she gathers her bags, shifting them in her arms until they settle comfortably. The cold outside presses faintly through the door, a reminder of Halo’s sharp bite. "But I’m super grateful for your help. And when my boyfriend devours all these treats in, like, four seconds, I’m telling him exactly who he has to thank."

She punctuates it with a playful wink, curls bouncing as she leans down just slightly to meet his eye level. "Say hi to your parents for me, okay?" With a final warm wave, she turns toward the door, shoulders bracing as the crisp air spills in. The cold seizes her at once, crisp and bright, but her smile stays warm as she steps out into the snow-dusted world beyond the little shop and lets the door swing shut behind her.

~FIN