[center][h1][color=39b54a]Cordelia Flores[/color][/h1][/center] 

Even doing something as mundane as driving through the main thoroughfare of Isla Zafrio, doña Cordelia Flores cast a natural image of elegance. Waves of red tied back simply under a sun bleached military style cap clearly marked her as a foreigner, however to the residents of Azul, she was like a rare flower plucked from a foreign land by her late husband, the don José Ramón León Flores. Everywhere she went there was a constant stream of smiles and adoration from passersby. Tourists looked about dumbfounded as she waved and tapped the horn like a celebrity. Within Azul, the Flores were the closest thing to royalty that anyone had ever known, some for their whole lives, even though they were elected to office. Cordelia had been a part of that at its height, as the islands opened themselves to the world under the leadership of Papa Flores. Now, with the Festival days just ahead, she could sense the unease within many, though for her it was a pain of emptiness and even further isolation. She drove on with a bright smile and a quick word, hiding it all.


To the common people, it would appear that the Flores family had naturally closed ranks to grieve privately for a time and that was true, [i]almost[/i]. They had closed ranks, just not with Cordelia. This was not wholly unexpected, though. Ever since Jose’s death there was a slowly falling veil that settled between her and the other two Flores brothers. Alejandro, Esteban’s oldest son, had been kind enough then and Cesar and his wife were still dating, but without Jose she became an outcast and with no children, nothing more than a leafless branch. Now she had finally been pruned, sheltered out of the entire affair, as her brother in law described, [i]to protect her.[/i] Her grip on the wheel tightened and her head tilted only slightly as the only outward sign of the explosive anger contained. The memory of this encounter began another replay in the back of her mind, but she stopped it as it always led ultimately to the same conclusion: This was [i]Azul[/i]. The Flores were the final word. There was no appeal to any higher court or investigation. If anything were to come of this, she would have to make it on her own and endure whatever the cost.


The simple 4x6 cart trundled beneath her only laden with a few miscellaneous supplies for the marina that jostled along with the numerous divots in the old street. She had one more stop to make on an afternoon of errands and that was to pick up some feed for Imp, her horse, a wedding gift from those very same in-laws. Before that though, she was going to make one more stop.


[i]Pat’s[/i] Bar didn’t have a sign or was even that recognizable apart from anything else along the back alleys next to the lagoon. It was simply one of those places you had to know about and that was by design. It had been several years since she had been inside and though she was still an American with dual citizenship, her last name was considered as something of an invasion of space and like the other natives of the island, she respected the regular patrons desire for privacy, however it felt a lot different now. The fact that Taryn Rogers, not even really someone she associated with at all and certainly no friend of her island “family”, wanted a meeting in this place meant she was trying to keep something from ears of the Flores and in her current state of mind, Cordelia found that was intriguing enough for her to entertain the girl, if only for a few minutes, assuming It would probably be nothing. The younger girl was constantly into some mischief. She parked outside next to the other carts and made her way through the shaded corridor that was the “main” entrance.


Inside Dana MacDonald sat quietly at the bar reading a book. Music played in the background. She looked up unsurprised which meant Taryn already arrived. “Hi Cori, Taryn is out back. She said she would wait for you…” Her glance shifted with unmistakable motherly concern. “Are you doing alright?”


Cori allowed her shoulders to relax a bit, enjoying the warmth of the other woman’s genuine concern and let out a small sigh. [color=39b54a]“Yes… it’s really been an…”[/color] Her voice trailed and for a moment she thought she could just unload everything and it would be received without judgment, but she held back. [color=39b54a]“A difficult few days… but I’m doing better. Thank you for asking.”[/color] She nodded.


“There’s no need to be a stranger.” Dana said quietly and went back to her book. To Cori it felt like she had read the words right out of her thoughts. Smiling at the thoughts that tumbled around her head about how she may just take Dana up on that offer. Her own parents didn't understand why she was still here. No, that wasn't fair. Daddy understood it was Mother that didn't. 


Moving to the back where Miss Rogers was at Cori collected herself as she walked on. She brushed a stray piece of alfalfa off her flowing skirt. Her clothes screamed boho beach but when looking closer one could tell the items were tailor made for her. The fabrics were the finest quality and the simplicity of the outfit, upon closer inspection screamed money. Cori prided herself on being approachable but with the ability to create distance as needed.


Opening the door Cori saw the dark haired woman already seated. Taryn was kicked back with a laissez-faire sort of way. The way a cat would before it decided that it was truly interested in a bird. Cori's lips pulled up at the corners and a small smile settled on her features. She might be a bird but kestrels were birds. Powerful falcons that were beautiful and just as deadly to small vermin as a cat.


[color=39b54a]“Hello Miss Rogers.”[/color] 

[@Pilatus]