[SE] heavy rain from my cloudy eyes

Thalassa

Reassured by Flora's comment, Thal's laughter is dark and deeply amused. It rumbles forth like the shadow before a storm, playfully teasing at the chaos to come. "Then I look forward to meeting him." Although she won't be accepting any tea from the man. 

The white flicker of wings and chiming trill pull her attention to the dripping canopy, surprised that she hadn't noticed the dragon before. She assumes they must be the referenced 'Spice,' the unavoidable barrier to Flora's transition and expert counterpoint to anything Danta or Asta might say. "Can't argue against that." She might not understand the bond without having experienced it herself, but she imagines it's not something that can be easily cast aside - even for the cool addition of horn and a chaos goddess. 

Boots scuff and drag at the dirt, disguising some of the tension lacing her movements, waiting for the judgement or laughter or otherwise unwelcome reaction to the implication of her admission. Much to her relief, Flora seems more interested in the vague verbiage. Even when her eyes flit briefly to confirm that she's not missing any animosity, Thal finds none.  

Her memory loss isn't quite as embarrassing as her supposed past, and she doesn't flinch from the vulnerability this time, nodding her head as she wipes rain from her cheek. "Mhm. I don't remember any of it." She shrugs her shoulders to casually add, "Can't remember anything from before I became an Ancient." If Flora were more seriously considering the transition, she might have bothered reassuring her that Thal is an anomaly of her race, but Flora isn't and she doesn't care enough to correct any misconceptions beyond explaining the little she supposedly knows. "I eventually found some things that gave me an idea of who I might have been before." Looking to Flora again, she says flatly, "So, 'apparently.'"

I'm in love with my future.
Can't wait to meet her.

you don't know that you're living 'til you're carrying scars

Flora’s gaze lingers on Thal a second longer than before, something in her expression shifting; not softer exactly, but steadier, the kind of look that doesn’t flinch away from the shape of what’s being said. "That sounds shitty," she says plainly, not dressing it up, her nose wrinkling slightly as she nudges a bit of damp soil back into place with the toe of her boot.

She straightens a touch, brushing her hands together, smearing dark earth across her palms before flicking what she can from her fingers. "My dad’s had his memory messed with a bunch," she adds with a small shrug, the words offered easily, like it’s not quite the same but close enough to suggest that maybe she isn't talking out of her ass about it. "Not the same, I know, but..." Her head tilts, considering Thal again, eyes narrowing just slightly as she turns the thought over rather than rushing past it.

"And I guess if quested to have all those memories back," she continues, slower now, "that might really mess with who you are now. Or...like, who you’ve become, y’know?" Undoubtedly, it's been suggested to Thal at some point that she could recover her memories, but honestly, to what end?

Then the moment shifts, not dismissed but eased, Flora’s mouth curving again as she wipes the last of the dirt from her hands against the side of her jacket. "I guess you definitely win the award for most mysterious backstory, huh?" she adds with a grin as if Thal's memory loss was a character trait to be touted rather than some tragic aspect of her past.

you're either falling in love or you're falling apart

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

Thalassa

Laughter flows easily from Flora's apt analysis of the situation, noticeably lacking any judgement. "It used to be," Thal quips, tension bleeding away without anything to latch onto. There's no enemy here.

Even if her peripheral understanding of memory loss isn't much to go by, Flora immediately notes what had taken Thal years to understand. "Exactly. The way I was described before..." Her lip raises in an undisguised sneer, fangs on full display as if to retaliate against the image in her mind. "I'm not that person anymore, and I don't want to be." Weak, gullible, naive. If she were to get her memories back, she hates to think about how that would affect her, destroying all the progress she's made over the last few years. It would devastate her. 

Instead, she gets to lug it around like a shameful shedding of hollow reptilian skin still stuck on the bottom of her boot, occasionally showing it off like a neat trick before ignoring it again. For now, she laughs at the jokes, letting it roll off as she swipes dirt over the last bit of seeds she drops from her hands. "Hell of a lot of good it does me. At least if it were gold I could sell it." She flashes Flora a sharpened smile and brushes her hands against her pantlegs. 

"Anything else we need to do for the Mathair's house?" she asks, looking up to the canopy again. Although never relaxed, the angles of her stance have softened in the dappled lighting, as if overlayed by the faded image of someone younger. For a few minutes, the confession of her past pulls open a dusty curtain to someplace deeper that Flora's been granted access to, a small space where Thal isn't armed and mounted on her iron defenses.

I'm in love with my future.
Can't wait to meet her.

you don't know that you're living 'til you're carrying scars

Flora nods along with the way Thal says it, the sneer, the certainty, all of it landing in a way that makes something in her chest settle rather than tighten. "And honestly," she adds with a crooked grin, brushing the last of the dirt from her fingers, "unless you’re, like, heir to a kingdom or something... fuck the past." The thought lingers a second longer in her mind than it does in her tone, her gaze flicking briefly over Thal as if trying to imagine it—some hidden crown, some secret line of inheritance waiting to be claimed—but even in that passing consideration it doesn’t fit. Not the horns, not the teeth, not the way she stands like she belongs to herself first and everything else a distant second. A throne would feel like a cage on her in all likelihood, obligations stacked neatly where chaos clearly prefers to live.

Flora snickers softly to herself at that, then lets her attention drift back to the Mathair, eyes tracing the vast, scarred bark as if checking for anything they might have missed. The rain has softened to a steady hush through the canopy, the soil around the roots freshly turned and dotted with their quiet little offerings. "Nope," she says after a moment, giving a small shake of her head. "I think we’re good."

Her gaze slides back to Thal, and something in her expression shifts again; not guarded, not distant, but edged with a kind of easy mischief that feels like an open door rather than a test. "Are you up for a drink?" she asks, the smile turning conspiratorial as she tips her head slightly toward the deeper stretch of the woods. "I know a place in the village, and if we ask the woods nicely I bet we can be there in no time."

The grin she flashes then is bright and inviting, her shoulder angling just slightly as if she’s already half-turned to go, waiting to see if Thal will follow.


~FIN

you're either falling in love or you're falling apart

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3