[SE] wearing that same smile

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

Flora shoots him a look from over his shoulder, bright and triumphant in the exact way she gets when Kaisel has accidentally stepped directly into a clsuterfuck of his own making. "Okay, wait," she gasps, scandal blooming across her face as if she has just heard something truly unforgivable. "Does that mean you’d rather one of us not be around?" Her brows rise as she looks toward Spice, inviting the dragon fully into the offence, before her mouth parts again with even deeper horror. "Or maybe you just want one of us to change??" The huff that follows comes from Flora and Spice at almost the same time, both of them shaking their heads at him with such perfect shared disappointment that it feels rehearsed, though it absolutely isn’t.

Snickering under her breath, Flora lets the accusation fade as quickly as she’d summoned it, her arms tightening comfortably around him while he carries her through the water. "No, of course not," she says, tucking herself closer against his back with shameless satisfaction. "But a good queen knows how and when to take advantage of a situation." The proof of this is immediate and obvious, given that what had begun as Kaisel throwing her into the pool has somehow become him piloting her around it while she clings to him like this was always the intended outcome. At the mention of cold plunges, her nose wrinkles, and she gives a delicate little shrug against him. "Oh, probably," Flora allows, before feigning a shiver that presses her closer still, the movement deliberately dramatic and not entirely innocent as she skims her breasts teasingly against his back. "But I think I’m more of a warm bath, silk robe, someone feeding me fruit kind of wellness girl."

Her laughter softens as he spins them, her hold staying firm even once the water settles and the movement slows. For a moment she only rests there, wet curls clinging to her cheeks and her cheek near his, letting the easy happiness of it move warm through the bond. "Maaaaaybe the Spillwave?" she suggests, brows lifting thoughtfully as her gaze drifts over the bright water around them. "Since it’s so calm." Leaning forward, she presses a kiss to his cheek, lingering there with a smile before adding, softer but no less pleased with herself, "Maybe one day I'll have a shift bigger and faster than a shark."

and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

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

No way you can deny, you feel the most alive when you are terrified

The look he shoots her instantly over his shoulder is twisted enough to make Picasso jealous. "Girl you sure you didn't get a rabbit shift with the way you leap to the most wild conclusions all the time?" His affront carries all the theater of someone who's fully aware of the joke but absolutely doesn't intend for it to get any breathing room. "Don't want either of you around," he mutters, more firmly jostling her through the water, air sucking past his teeth with the audacity of such a claim, even in jest. "Think you hit your head on the bottom of the pool, probably have to take you to the clinic now or at least splash healing water all over you." Much like an exorcism, it should be noted.

"The only change I wanna see is the scoreboard," he snorts, referring of course, to the household wins and losses, whereupon she and Spice (read unfair advantage) are winning by a long shot. The spirits occasionally back him up, but they're such a wild card he's loath to call them teammates, and Spice is clearly unswayable. Enzo and Mateo were his only hope on a good day, but their integrity for the spectacle is in line with the household spirits, which goes double for Enzo who he's almost certain recognizes some of the ones in the house from his time on the inside, y'know, with Mort.

"Is that right?" he hums with an interest that's too much, and it's perhaps her only hint, aside from the flare of amusement that betrays him through the bond, that she and the boobs he absolutely feels kissing his back should hold on. He clings to the idea of taking advantage of things and her preferring warm waters, even as they twirl and it strays into a future plan. Abruptly over talk of sharks, he shouts, "cold plunge this!" He says it as poorly as any CSI catch phrase just before springing up and dumping them both backwards into the water. The motion fully dunks her and himself below the surface, the pool erupting in another great swell of water and bubbles as he works to wriggle out of her perch through the surprise.

Kaisel

I'm a daredevil on the highway to hell

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

"Pffffft," Flora breathes against his shoulder, entirely undeterred by the rabbit comment and every other perfectly reasonable point he might be making. "Oh sure, and then you can explain to them how you tried to drown your wife after she tried to do something festive for you and was very generously icing your muscles after a hard workout." Her grin presses into the words, bright and impossible to dislodge, and when he mentions the scoreboard she lifts her brows with all the confidence of the world’s worst winner. "Anytime, babe."

The pulse of mischief that starts to warble through the bond reaches her just quickly enough to be useless. Flora’s first instinct is to hold on tighter, arms and legs locking more securely around him as if that might somehow save her from whatever he is about to do, which proves to be exactly the wrong choice. When he springs up and throws himself backward, she only has time to suck in a breath and tuck herself against him before they slam into the water together, the pool closing over them in a cold rush that steals the rest of her laughter and replaces it with bubbles. His wriggling escape, the force of the dunk, and the sharp sting of water up her nose all conspire against her, and by the time Flora breaks the surface again she is coughing, spluttering, and glaring through the wet spill of curls plastered across her face.

"So help me," she gasps, splashing at him with both hands, petulant and breathless and already laughing despite herself, "my next ability from Safrin is going to be the ability to tickle you from a distance." She swipes the water from her eyes and lunges for him through the pool, soaked longjohns dragging around her legs while her expression sharpens with vengeful delight. "Now come here," Flora demands, reaching for his sides with every intention of tickling him into a swift and splashy watery grave.

and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

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

No way you can deny, you feel the most alive when you are terrified

His grin clips away every last bit of muttering and grumbling, unable to tamp it down any longer when her artistic sway with logic is on such a grand gallery display. "Is that what you were doing?" The wonder leaves him with a head tilt and a faint tsk of his tongue. "Awwwww, babe," he croons, the words cavity-sweet. "My fault. Your kind consideration totally looked like a well-crafted and hostile tag team effort. I've just never heard of the snowball icing technique, is that new?" Sport medicine these days, always changing. Right up there with the health benefits of dunking said loving and thoughtful wife repeatedly in the pool.

The element of surprise is the only lead he has when he untangles himself from her underwater. While she drives for the surface, her breath not as prepared as his, he's striving for distance. He shoves off the bottom of the pool at an angle so that he's sent forward as well as up, breath streaming out in readiness as turbulent bubbles through the water just before he breaks to back above water, sucking in a fresh breath and immediately losing it to a burst of helpless, giddy laughter. He doesn't spare a moment, run-wading through the shallow end in a series of dramatic splashes. He can hear her behind him though, and when he chances a glance back, the pitch of his laughter climbs immediately as he realizes just how close she is to catching hold of him. "No no no nonono!" he shouts with a curl of dramatic dismay, one that breaks apart into a purely feral sound of terror at the notion of long distance tickling.

"That's pure evil!" he admonishes futily, voice warping into a high and shrill screech normally reserved for when she's actually tickling him. His laughter almost takes him out, as if the threat alone has set his skin to spasm, while he scrambles up the steps and out of the pool. It's such a gangly rush of water and windmilling, reaching limbs that it's a wonder he doesn't faceplant immediately onto the concrete.

The moment he's on solid ground, he side-skips away from her, arms lifted up like an inflatable man outside a shop, side bowing away from any stray reach or suddenly long feeling she might be able to muster on the spot. His cheeks are flushed and bright, amber stare holding her in place (never turn your back on the threat), as he turns and backs up towards where the inflatable tumseas are. "You tickle me again Flo-ro and I will be forced to curse you with the taste of your own medicine." Just in case she thinks this is hollow, he tacks on much more gravely, "I swear it." An enchanted bottle of shampoo, a cursed water bottle. Whatever it takes, he'll find a way to magically make her ticklish and he will be ruthless with his use of it.

Kaisel

I'm a daredevil on the highway to hell

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

Flora huffs, affronted in the patient, long-suffering way of a queen whose husband has chosen this wilful stupidity as his hill to die on and she's forced to let him. "That’s all right," she says magnanimously, though there is a clear edge beneath the sweetness. "I forgive you for not recognizing what an amazing gesture this was." Her shoulders lift in a graceful little shrug as she starts after him through the pool. "And of course it isn’t new. I’m sure if you asked Deimos, or literally anyone from Halo, they’d tell you that they do it all the time." The lie is delivered with enough confidence that she nearly convinces herself, even as she works against the drag of the water with a grim determination that makes the chase feel much slower than the high-speed pursuit it has become in her mind.

Why are you running "Stop running," Flora calls after him, splashing forward with both hands outstretched. "You have to accept your punishment. That’s how this works." Every step sends another small wave rolling away from her thighs, her wet clothes dragging heavily now, but she keeps coming all the same, curls pasted to her cheeks and throat. By the time Kaisel gets himself out of the pool, she is still a step behind, hauling herself up onto the concrete with considerably less elegance. Water streams from her shirt and leggings, both clinging close enough that she looks more like a soaked cat than the polished Queen of Torchline, and her eyes narrow as she straightens.

"I don’t negotiate with terrorists," Flora says with a low little hiss, launching herself after him the second her feet find purchase. Her hands reach for his sides, already hunting for the spots that will make him fold, but she sends something else ahead of herself too. The illusion blooms into place near the tumseas: Flora as she had been that morning, naked and damp-haired, stepping from the shower with water still slipping down her skin. It is only a moment, chosen with pointed precision, and Flora does not slow as she creates it. The distraction is the whole point; hope that while his attention is dragged sideways, she can close in with a bright, merciless grin and both hands aimed squarely for his ribs.

and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

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

No way you can deny, you feel the most alive when you are terrified

Much as he'd love to keep hold of the thread that pretends her icing plan is anything short of devious, everything is rapidly unraveling around him. He doesn't have time to weave her into the trap of an obvious lie, not when her fingers are sewing chaos just behind him, each extension a threat to pull apart his every seam.

His retreat over the pavement is marked with a dark trail of dripping water, which is ominously dwarfed by the start of Flora's pursuit. She lurches after him, all classic horror villain style without even trying, somehow moving in slow motion (thank you waterlogged winter wear), and yet too close for comfort even when he does everything he can to stretch out distance between them. "Stop tickling then!" he calls back, voice properly curdling with all the strain of a victim losing space to run.

Despite the genuine wariness and the thrill of adrenaline setting every ticklish nerve on end, the bond a stiff and prickly thing where he tries to stave her off with every fiber of his being, a smile slants across part of his face. She looks ridiculous in the best way possible as she stalks her soggy ass towards him, laying out demands like they're a flush that'll win her the round. "Oooh, so I've been a bad boy?" he taunts, unable to resist the bait even if it's an angler fish waving it around.

Abruptly, she transitions into a new age villain, all speed and mind fuckery. Kaisel's lapse of joy falls off into an instant shout of alarm as he turns to finalize his exit, reaching for one of the tumsea floaties to fling it back at her. "It's not a negotiation, it's a prom—" All his motion suspends in an instant when another Flora stands before him, drenched in an entirely different way. He's still half crouched, mid-reach, when he first sees the replay of her this morning. Admittedly, it's not his first time visiting the memory today, but this one is far more captivating. Slowly, he starts to stand, though his jaw remains closer to the floor, intent on brushing over the full length of her with his attention. It's not so long as it seems before he catches himself, but it's long enough for Flora to catch him.

Her fingers spear into his sides with a ruthlessness he knows too well. His entire body twists and jolts forward, seizing in an instant and toppling quite spectacularly into the tumsea floaties with a squeal of indignation. "FL00RUH!"

Shells and flippers erupt upward in a squeaky complaint at the sudden weight, one shooting up and abandoning him entirely, forcing him to shrimp onto the ground in a heap of laughter that verges on a scream. "Don't don'tdont'don't, I'm punished!"

Kaisel

I'm a daredevil on the highway to hell

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

"I haven’t even touched you yet!" Flora hisses, though the accusation has already started to crack apart beneath her laughter. At this point, their back-and-forth sounds less like a married couple and more like two children squabbling in the back seat of a car, each one convinced the other started it and neither willing to give up the last word. When he asks whether he’s been a bad boy, her expression sweetens in a way that should probably worry him more than any direct threat, water still dripping from her curls as she tilts her head. "Why don’t you come here and find out?" she asks, her voice syrupy enough to make the question feel like a trap even before the illusion catches him.

The moment of distraction is all she needs. Flora doesn’t bother with the tumsea floaties or whatever flimsy defence he might have been reaching for; she simply closes the last bit of distance and launches herself at him, wet clothes and all, collapsing over him as he goes down in a mess of shells, flippers, laughter, and offended noises. Her fingers find his sides with ruthless accuracy, and for several seconds she gives him no room to recover, laughter spilling out of her as he twists beneath her. Only when he insists he’s punished does she pause, her fingertips still resting lightly against him as though they might resume at any second. Flora cocks her head, aqua eyes narrowing with the solemn suspicion of a teacher deciding whether a student is actually sorry or merely hoping to avoid detention. "Are you?" she asks, her mouth twitching at the corners. "Say that was the best winter surprise you’ve ever had, then."

and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

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

No way you can deny, you feel the most alive when you are terrified

There's no room for breath or thought beneath the assault of fingertips; there is only the base level of survival. Curling to protect one section of his body reveals another, and he feels very much like a tumsea whose shell is too small. Blocking with an elbow, grabbing at her hand, all are short-lived when she descends elsewhere, requiring an immediate reroute of tactics and defense. All of which becomes more desperate and judgment more clouded the longer it goes on, the laughter and the internal coiling becoming an overwhelming thing that floods the bond like an overfilled bathtub displacing its water for the bather.

The respite when she finally pauses is so at odds with the torture that just felt endless, that for a moment all he can do is lie there, caught in something akin to a drunken stupor as he reassembles into a person who has air in their lungs and ownership of their body again. His sides heave as though he's just finished a run, his face properly flushed to match, but where one might stretch out after such exercise, instead his arms cinch around either side of him and his shoulders hike up to his ears, battening the hatches against another Flora storm.

He knows he has precious seconds to answer her demands before the new onslaught starts, and even then, she might do it anyway, hence the battening (however futile it'll prove to be, in the end). Summoning the last dregs of strength, he holds the gaze of his captor with all the gravity this moment deserves, the look itself an act of defiance for all its boldness and certainty, an indicator that she cannot break his will so easily. "What was that about negotiations and terrorists?"

Smug, too smug probably, he sends a prayer out for a spirit to rescue him from this very real tickling and capture crisis he's found himself in. An escalation maybe in an ordinary household, but it only feels proper given she stooped to using her new fancy demigod magic on him already. Spirit, toss her back in the pool! he channels.

---

Kaisel used 2/2 Deepfrost 320 channels

Channeling (Accepted) : Allows an Accepted to channel a herald/demigod/spirit (2x a season). Can be combined with other accepted channelling to increase power. Has a 3-post cool-down between uses.
Type: Light | Rank: Upgraded | Cost: Action

Kaisel

I'm a daredevil on the highway to hell

noone notices the contrast of white on white

The answer comes with the sudden clatter of every cupboard door in the nearby kitchen flying open at once, followed by a spirit tumbling out from beneath the overhang as though it has been waiting politely inside the house for precisely this sort of emergency. It’s built of sun-bleached mist and dripping poolwater, its face hidden behind a riot of floating dish towels, and before Flora can so much as twist to identify the newest traitor in her life, two cool hands sweep beneath her arms and lift her clean off Kaisel. There’s only enough time for her curls to fly and for the spirit to give a deeply satisfied little hum before it pivots and hurls her in a perfect, unceremonious arc into the pool. The splash is enormous, obviously, water surging up and over the edge as the spirit dissolves into delighted bubbles and the sharp, chiming sound of pots being banged together somewhere overhead.

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

The smug pulse that rolls through the bond is unmistakable, and Flora’s head tilts slowly to one side as she turns a narrowed look on her husband. Usually, that particular flavour of satisfaction belongs to her, bright and sharp and earned at someone else’s expense, but there’s no mistaking it when it comes from Kai instead. Whatever he’s thinking, he’d better fucking not, the tilt of her head says with all the silent severity she can muster, though the warning arrives a fraction too late to be useful.

The clatter from the house has her eyes widening just as the spirit comes for her, and she reacts on instinct, fingers scrambling for purchase against nothing but the warm, bare skin of Kai’s chest and shoulder, of course giving her absolutely nothing to hang onto. One moment she’s braced above him, the next she’s lifted clean into the air, limbs flailing as the traitorous apparition swings her away from the safety of his body and towards the pool. "ASSBORN!" Flora screams, but the word is swallowed at once beneath a riot of bubbles and cold water as she hits the surface hard enough to send it surging over the edge.

Kicking furiously towards the light, she breaks through with a gasp, curls plastered to her face and laughter already threatening to break apart the outrage she’s trying very hard to maintain. The bond is a glorious, ridiculous tangle of delight at being caught in such a perfect mess with the man she loves and the immediate, ironclad need not to let him win it. "YOU," she screeches, pointing one accusatory finger at him as though she might curse him straight from the water, "ARE SO DEAD." The threat gathers momentum with every determined stomp she takes toward the pool’s edge, slowed absurdly by the water clinging to her clothes and limbs, until she reaches the side and hauls her thoroughly waterlogged self up, dripping and furious and already plotting exactly how he’s going to pay for this, wondering vaguely how mad Ronin would be if she did call to him to bring her husband back from the dead if she made good on her threat.

and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

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

No way you can deny, you feel the most alive when you are terrified

There is a brief moment where he considers that he may have fucked up. When her gaze narrows in that way, when her fingers scrabble for purchase on his arms, as her curls sweep in over her face as she is unceremoniously plucked up by a smattering of dish towels and the essence of summer, he considers this may have been a grave mistake. That dissolves immediately into complete satisfaction the moment she hits the water in an impressive wave and her outcry is swallowed up into nothing more than her magnificent splash.

He'd propped himself up on one arm to properly watch his revenge, mouth ajar in a mixture of delight and shock at the image of his wife sailing to perfect retribution. While he meant to use this time to get up, he's held hostage by laughter once more. In some variant of the downward dog, one palm slaps the pavement while victory and glee double him over with a bellowing, relentless, shaking fit of laughter that soon enough goes silent and rolls out as tears at the corner of his eyes. It only amplifies the moment she breaks the surface, sputtering with threats that ought to chill him to his core because he knows she means them, but he can barely even remember the word composure at this point.

Weakly, he manages to get to his feet, tumsea floatie in each hand, sides on fire. Instead of the clear shot he could have had, she's already swamp-monster lurching back out of the pool by the time he's giggling his way back towards the house. "This has been the best winter surprise!" he tosses to her with all the attempt of distracting a guard dog with a treat just after it's eaten its fill. The brightness to the remark is not put on though, meaning it quite thoroughly, for all the good it'll do him now. "Kitchen sledding?" he offers like a truce, one of the tumseas thrown her way while he's calculating if he could dip past her quick enough to make it inside.

Kaisel

I'm a daredevil on the highway to hell

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

As Flora hauls herself out of the pool, water pouring from her curls and dragging heavily from every inch of her clothes, she mutters something dramatic and deeply unflattering beneath her breath. Kaisel’s declaration is clearly meant as a truce, or at least a convenient distraction while he calculates whether he can make it inside before she catches him again, but neither of them has ever been particularly good at accepting defeat once the other has taken a lead.

Torchline’s warmth keeps the cold from settling too deeply into her skin, but it does nothing for the way her waffle-knit shirt clings to her. Flora reaches for the hem and peels it off in one smooth motion, leaving a black bra beneath exposed as she twists the soaked fabric between her hands and wrings out as much water as she can. Her leggings are just as wet, plastered close to her legs as she starts after him across the pavement, the shirt gathered in one hand like she means to use it as a weapon. When he sends one of the tumsea floaties toward her, Flora swings without hesitation, snapping the wet fabric against it with a sharp thwack that bats the toy cleanly aside. The look she levels at him afterward is pointed enough to make the message clear without saying it aloud: that could have been your ass, mister.

Then her mouth curves, all bright teeth and trouble, as she twirls the shirt into a more deadly shape. "Sure, but I have a different sled in mind," Flora says, her gaze sliding over him in a way that makes the answer deliberately unclear, though the intention certainly isn’t. She starts toward the house again, purposeful now, one hand still gripping the damp shirt while the other brushes wet curls from her face.

Inside, Spice has taken the opportunity to improve the conditions. The little dragon trills out a warning from somewhere ahead, that the ice has spread well beyond the patch they’d started with, more of the kitchen floor glazed over in thick, glittering sections.

and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

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

No way you can deny, you feel the most alive when you are terrified

An unimpressed turn finds one corner of his mouth and the angle of his eyes as she pulls her shirt up over her head. "That won't work on me twice," he huffs, as if insulted she'd even think to repeat her tactics. Although her ring would remind her of a truth she already well knows, his eyes equally betraying him as they drop briefly from the line of her face to her chest. The mental hoops assure him there's no harm in looking, especially if she's offering, and he's confident he's too clever to be trapped by them again, at least for the next hour or so.

Unfortunately for him, that isn't her intent, as the loud crack of wet fabric on an innocent tumsea floatie shortly reveals. All manner of casual confidence evaporates from his expression, and even his posture tightens up in fresh awareness of the new threat. The twirl of the wet shirt in her hand is worrisome enough, but the smile that she fits on and the sudden departure from screeching to amiable sweetness is by far the most terrifying indicator. "You're mad," he breathes, little room for more volume when every part of him has tightened in readiness for motion, wondering now if he shouldn't have saved that spirit for his own escape needs.

He takes the look she grants him as a clear sign she means for him to be the sled, which sounds undesirable at best and like Halo's version of roadrash at worst. Yet, when she steps in ahead of him, rather than whipping him into place or wrestling him down, he's left gaping after her in the quiet wonder of a man who hasn't a clue what his vengeful wife is entirely up to. "I lo000ve you!" he calls in after her, a reminder perhaps that she need not go scorched earth (only considered because he's beating her at the moment, yes).

Carefully he follows after her, tumsea floatie held in front of him like a flimsy shield.

Kaisel

I'm a daredevil on the highway to hell

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

Flora makes an incredulous sound in the back of her throat, turning a look on Kaisel that makes it quite clear she cannot believe he thinks she has stripped off her shirt for any reason other than the entirely practical one of having been thrown into a pool twice, with the added bonus of it then being used as a weapon.

His quiet observation only makes her smile slowly, the expression sharpening as though he has finally recognized the severity of the situation. Flora leans into it at once, every inch the wicked queen whose enemy has made the grave mistake of surviving long enough to mock her. It does not matter that the enemy in question is her husband, damp-haired and armed with an inflatable tumsea; the set of her shoulders and the cool, patient look in her eyes suggest something far more personal than a few trips into the pool. "Oh, I love you too, babe," she whispers threateningly, as if he has razed her kingdom, stolen her birthright, and then had the nerve to laugh while doing it, the words somehow sounding like an indictment of his doom rather than a declaration of love.

Turning toward him properly, she lets the wet shirt fall loose from her fist and speaks with the calm politeness of an executioner granting someone the courtesy of a final choice. "Do you think you’ll slide better if you’re cold like the floor, or if you’re covered in something slippery?" Nearby, Spice exhales a soft plume of frost, the little dragon committing herself fully to the performance as if she is the loyal henchman prepared to ice him down on command.

Flora’s gaze never leaves Kaisel’s face as she reaches into one of the cupboards beside her, fingers closing around a squat glass jar. When she brings it out, the bright red of strawberry jam catches through the kitchen light, and her smile turns almost sweet again as she holds it up between them. "You can pick," she says.

and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

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