From Attuned to Ascended to Ancient, Kiada Njovu-Reyes has been reborn several times throughout her short life, but her fighting spirit has never once been diminished. With beauty, grace and a quick wit, Kiada is the whole package wrapped in an infectious smile. Recent endeavours have found her in the heart of the Hollowed Grounds, aiding the region and bettering it for her new Ancient kin, and whatever she does next, we know it's sure to pack a punch.
Congratulations, Kiada!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
When the sun began to set over the Inner Quarter, fires and lanterns were lit one by one around the square before the Temple. The courtyard had been swept clean of snow and ice, sanded and strewn with fragrant evergreens so that revelers would not risk slipping. A gentle warmth spread by the gemstone bonfire chased away the biting cold of the evening and row upon row of tables laden with fruits, baked tarts, pastries, sliced bread and honey-butter, roast vegetables and salads and whole pigs and lambs turning over open pits lined the edges of the feast. There was ale and cider, mulled wine and stronger drinks too, hot chocolate and soups and pies and all manner of delectable treats, free for the taking.
The huge double doors to the Temple were flung wide and through them streamed wonderful music. Light spilled from the great hall where pews had been pushed up against the walls. Carpets were removed, the floors scrubbed until they shone and in pace with the music couples swayed back and forth in easy grace. Dancing now fast, now slow, in a glittering array of shimmering silk, embroidered vests and every imaginable combination of skirts, dress trousers and fluttering capelets.
Many guests had already arrived, and when a silvery bell chimed to mark the official opening of the ball, a cheer went up that carried from the deepest recess of the Temple to the furthest corner of the decorated courtyard.
Let the Midwinter Ball begin!
Welcome!
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
Having had nothing to do with the ball's arrangement, decoration, food or music, nevertheless Danta feels as though he's had to do a great deal of preparation for it, if for no other reason than he's had to get dressed. You know. Properly. And it's a feat that can be attributed to both Kiada and Astaroth in truth, that the Maverick looks the way he does, which isn't half bad at all, if the glances he's being thrown are to be believed.
More or less tied into his outfit (entirely black but embroidered with golden thread, in as close a resemblance to a male corset as one might get), he's on his second - large - glass of wine of the evening, lurking for once against one of the walls. Is Danta a wallflower? No. Does he enjoy being without company? No again.
And yet, there's something tantalising for at least a moment or two, to watch the world go by as if on a timer; perfect, synchronised, clockwork. Begging for chaos, if you ask him.
Dantalion
// with every step that I ran to you //
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
My heroes had the heart to lose their lives out on the limb
It had been a long time in the making, this ball. From the first fleeting notion of it, half in jest, to the chime of the bell, Maea had been unsure whether it was even possible to pull off. Now, standing by the edge of the dancefloor, unusual emotions traded places within her chest. Was that pride, by chance? Satisfaction, no, even enjoyment? It was almost like she had accomplished something real, something tangible that wasn't entirely in her own head.
She was clothed in black for the evening, as usual. Those who knew her well might be surprised to notice that it was not in the usual rags, however. No, the dress was as new as it was beautiful, and bold; hugging her figure to the waist, with tight sleeves and a flaring skirt of darkest velvet, the neckline was a bold plunge that teased a glimpse of ivory skin. She had braided her hair into a crown atop her head, and silver bells dangled from the wide sweep of her horns. They rang subtly as she glided across the floor, aiming for the skulking figure of her liege.
"Praise me, flatter me, please," she murmured to him, laughter making her eyes bright. "We actually did it!"
And I remember thinking — I want to be like them
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
Oh, it had been an absolute delight and a nightmare getting Danta to look as good as he does. A feat mostly given toward Kiada with how she’d had to corral him in order to tighten the laces up. But it had worked and Astaroth is far too pleased with the result as he slinks out onto the main floor once ensuring that his outfit is perfectly serviceable and his hair is slicked back and tucked behind his adorned horns. It’s with a deep red, almost burgundy suit with a black shirt, and delicate gold accents adorned on his person and chains hanging from his horns that Astaroth sidles up beside the Maverick on his side, ever the shadow, as he flashes a toothy grin toward Maea.
“You look lovely.” He inclines his head, meaning every word even if her tone suggested a joke, before he nods toward Dantalion with a smirk. “Praise him, too, it was quite the nightmare getting him to look this way.” And as such, Astaroth’s hand lifts to squeeze Danta’s shoulder in a hidden attempt to fuss over him, removing a piece of lint gathered from the literal fight it took to get him in the corset. And he leans in a little toward Maea with mischief as he pulls slightly away, voice dropping just for her ears only though he knows Danta could likely hear it too. "Maybe if he hears enough compliments he'll get a better sense of fashion."
Yesterday, 07:39 PM (This post was last modified: Yesterday, 07:52 PM by Kiada.)
KIADA
you haven't kissed anyone for a while now
She had needed some time to clean up after the whole ordeal of getting Dantalion into that outfit – complete with utilizing her elbows to press him down to tighten the laces. It had been such a challenge that she was glad she’d arrived in a different outfit, so as to not ruin the fine one she intended to wear for the event.
It’s completely at odds with the dark hues that Maea and the two men are wearing, but it is entirely on brand for the Harpy as she flaunts out from the back toward the gaggle of her fellow council (and "honorary, unhelpful asshole" council member, given what kind of shadow and little help Astaroth had been). “If it goes well, maybe we should have another party in a warmer season.” She suggests, despite how her dress certainly would keep her warm. Jewelry adorns the Harpy, a gold and white choker that harbors chains that dip against her scarred collarbones, hiding the majority of the large X etched into her neck, with gold and ivory bracelets that hang from her wrists, and a singular ring that’s quite recognizable as an engagement ring that sits on her fingers, a brand-new addition to her everyday wear. Her hair is swept back and out of her face, enough that the usual light curls don’t bother the curve of her dark horns, streaked with ruby red veins, unadorned other than being easier to see with the way she’s braided her hair to fall down her back.
However, the dress in question is gilded and long sleeved, made up of fabric and feathers and entirely too over the top, but she rarely ever got such a chance to dress up. Cut low off her shoulders and revealing a good look of her full chest, Kiada thinking little of the burn scars that poke out of the finery, not as she steps up beside Maea and reaches out to pull her in for a little friendly side hug. “I am quite excited though.” She flashes a bright fanged smile toward them all before she glances around to see whether Fox had managed to make it in yet.
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
The Temple held different connotations than midwinter balls, and he’d be loath to admit that very few portions of his soul wanted to be anywhere nearby. The only thing that held him even slightly together was his own family, and the notions that Kiada would be nearby; measures for taunting, extracting information (given Fox’s recent inquiry), and forging a meeting between newborns and Harpies.
Evie had persuaded him into a suit earlier, to which he only grudgingly accepted (and ensured Erebos had a matching newborn set as well, though tucked into the sling accordingly over the Sword’s pressed coat). Long hair tussled but brushed, beard trimmed, he might’ve looked less intimidating and more regal, but the way he scanned the crowd, and the world at large, could’ve negated it all. “Let me know when you want to escape,” he whispered to the Evergreen, a hint that he’d be ready to bolt at any time, gaze scanning for Kiada or any of their hosts.
Hadama had brought his formal wear along, chosen with help from Flora to match his eyes. It had the benefit of having several layers with which to keep out the Deepfrost chill in the Hollowed Grounds, though it was not the most practical of outfits, perhaps. He swept in out of the snow in an emerald hanfu embroidered in gold, moving with care amidst the long, trailing sleeves and full skirts of his robes. A golden hairpiece in a wave pattern with a spray of emeralds and sapphires tucked into the top of the high ponytail his steely hair was drawn into, and he wore a thing circlet of silver and gold on his brow. The emerald teardrop earring hung from his left ear as always, joined by several small gold hoops. Within the sleeves of the hanfu his wrists glinted with golden filigree bracers, though the only ring on his fingers held a trace of starlight about it.
He nodded to Maea, but as she looked busy with her fellow councilmembers he chose not to bother her just yet and instead made his way over to the tables of food, admiring the spread with a professional eye. Selecting a plate with care for his sleeves, he began the difficult prospect of choosing a light meal amidst the bounty that was being offered. A small sliver of roast lamb and a modest beef wellington in puff pastry joined a ladling of root vegetables in a brown sugar glaze. From there he paused over the fruit tarts, reaching for one with his tongs before hesitating and starting to go for another before a third caught his eye, leaving him caught in a moment of delicious decision paralysis.
Evie is struggling to have a good time, and they've only just arrived.
The Temple in particular is a yawning pit of terrible memories, and even the visual changes from years of shifting leadership and inhabitants can't stop the recollection. She is only here because she knows it's important to show up, and that she can't hold the location against the council members that had invited them, but the idea of revelry is difficult to swallow when it's taking all her focus to keep a smile on her face.
Still, it's an opportunity to dress up and socialize, and that's enough to keep her here for now. Though it's clear from how little space remains between her and Deimos that she's not exactly comfortable. The murmured offer has her smile weakening into something grateful, and her hand squeezes his elbow where it's tucked inside. "I will if you do the same." She's not the only one who can scarcely stand to be here after all. For now however, she waves with her free hand at Hadama, smiling from across the room.
the difference between a garden and a graveyard is what we choose to put in the soil
Her nose wrinkled at the outset, wondering if she should even be here. It’d been a long while since she set foot in the Hollowed Grounds (recalling the massive ass chunk missing out of the Spire and frankly, wondering if it would be worth her while to go try it again), but all of this shit could materialize into something amusing. Not like anyone in here would try to hit her once and she’d be dead again.
Ha. Anyway.
She gave some effort in appearance (the dress was new and not torn or frayed), but ultimately made a beeline for the snacks the moment she entered, using it as an opportunity to survey the scene while stuffing a tart into her mouth.
you know i'm gonna change, things just don't stay the same no more
Its warm and bustling, and the blue suit he’s donned is tight fitting and comfortable, despite how it hides most of his tattoos. He pays it little mind, though, having always been a fan of the look of the way they did pop out occasionally with movement, something that certainly can be said with how the edges of the compasses poke up from beneath the collar of his dark shirt. The blue is adorned with swirls of a floral pattern, shinier than the rest of the matte navy, and jewelry to match the colors Hotaru wears if only to ensure that they looked like two pieces of the same puzzle.
Some things remain the same, though, the two sets of earrings in each ear – one a golden tapered piece (the hEARs for those wondering that he always wears), and the other a silver gift from Nate that dangles from his lobes, a blue gemstone and metal feathers that fall just above his shoulders in their length. On his hands, his wedding ring still sits for Nate, unsurprisingly so as his arm remains looped with @Hotaru’s, bending to offer a conspirators whisper as he tries to push away any previous thoughts of the Temple and the things he’d had to do within it in favor for trying to enjoy this new version of the Grounds. “Everyone looks so nice.” Sunjata murmurs, as if somewhat surprised by the revelation, before he targets Melita just as he had in the Torchline meeting, offering a wave and a smile with his freehand.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Thal entered the Temple with the determined steps of a woman on a mission. She let her eyes roam the decor, specifically the gemstone bonfire in the middle as it glittered around the stone flooring with rainbows of light. It was her first time seeing it and she was more than grateful for the warmth it provided against the Deepfrost chill, even though it didn't warm the cold ice of her aching heart. When she'd heard of the ball, it had seemed like a great opportunity for distraction. Now, as she stepped into the ballroom(?), she pulled down the hood of her intricately woven black cloak to reveal the silver metal wrapping her stygian horns, weaving into her dark curling locks that cascaded down her back. With slow, intentional movements, she removed the cloak and handed it to a nearby attendant. They glanced appreciatively at her black gown, the way it corseted at the waist in lacey sheer before falling to the floor in a waterfall of black velvet. The most noticeable part was the slit that cut to the top of her leg in an intentionally sensual suggestion. Thal gave the attendant a feral grin then turned her back to let him get a long look as she stalked to the refreshments table.
She noticed Maea across the room but chose to avoid eye contact with the pale Ancient. Maybe after she had a drink or two, she would consider paying the woman a visit to compliment her on the ball's success. Instead, she downed a large glass of familiar amber bourbon, already reaching for another. It went down with a dropping heat into her abdomen, so she reached for a colorful pastry to chase it before swallowing the second glass with ease. Thal hesitated for a moment, as if waiting for an invitation before waltzing herself onto the ballroom floor, weaving between the dancing couples. She didn't need a partner, even if it would make things more interesting. For now, Thal chose to let her body move in blissful abandon in time with the music. Her hips shifted expertly, exposing the slit of her leg with quick, practiced movements. Her arms reached over her head in twisting movements. The music felt like it was seducing her, allowing her to leave her worries behind in a current of fluid dancing.
Still not entirely used to the idea of wearing a jacket, Charlie had surrounded herself with flames as she made her way from the Dusklight to the Temple, leaving her shaking off a few lingering bits of fire as she entered. Floating in on heels that were ankle-breakingly high, on Danta's recommendation, Charlie had found a tailor who'd made her a red gown precisely the ruby shade of her horns. Upon entering, the ancient glanced around, beaming at those around her as if they were all the best of friends despite having met very few of them.
"Maea! This looks amazing!" Charlie called loudly, from all the way across the room, waving at her silvery counterpart and offering her a megawatt smile. Making her way over and doing so with remarkable ease despite the height of her heels, Charlie flashed a smile toward Astaroth and Dantalion. "That looks like it'll be fun to get out of later." She says, glancing at Danta's corset with obvious approval. "You must have been involved in this." She purrs, looking up at Asta, before her eyes catch upon Kiada.
"Hi! I'm Charlie!"
.
Hella golden retriever energy. Small unrefined horns made of ruby. Regular spade-shaped tail.
"You know, I don't think I have ever seen so many Ancients in one place," Ronin says conversationally, the words murmured quietly enough for Remi's ears only. Shrugging out of his coat and handing it to someone who has been hovering nearby and waiting to take it, he smiles cheerfully to his husband and offers him his arm so they might step inside the Temple properly.
Given that he had encouraged this ball and that he's been thoroughly looking forward to it as well, the Knight arrives in a well-tailored suit of pale grey as if he'd been made to wear it, his white shirt crisp, his tie a deep, metallic blue, and a spray of pixui down has been pinned to his jacket pocket. "Before any socialising," he tells the Bastion, "I demand at least one dance from my husband. Then I will let you climb a vine as a wallflower. Deal?"
Isla arrives alone, and for once it's by intention.
It's been a long, long time since she's been to the Hollowed Grounds, let alone to the Temple, and she'd wanted to ensure that the ball was in full swing before she allowed herself to step through the doors. At least this way the place would look as different as possible from the place where she'd once lived and ruled.
At least this is an excuse to dress up, the former duchess arriving in a deep, wine red gown, cinched in at the waist but with a slit up the leg long enough to move and dance with ease. And there are luckily enough of her Ancient kin around to ensure that the temperature is appropriately merry despite the season.
Accepting a drink the same colour as her dress and glancing towards both the Taliesins and the group of Ancients to one side, she raises a hand in a wave and steps further inside, wanting to enjoy her wine before anything else.
we're gonna separate ourselves tonight we're always running scared but holding knives
