From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
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!
"Maybe you do. King's End is lucky to have you if that's the case," Ronin says with a flash of teeth, content to trail in Thorn's wake as he meanders backwards along the path and takes them ever closer to the House of Midnight. Raising his eyebrows at the description of the treetop paradise - and nodding, yes, about the sailors - the Nova is left wondering what a room like that would hold for himself, if for no other reason than because he isn't sure what he'd want most.
Shaken from his thoughts as they arrive at the brothel, he ducks inside after Thorn and lets out a low whistle, clearly impressed. "It's weird, how often I've flown over this place without coming inside," he murmurs. "Looks like you landed on your feet when it comes to your workplace. Er, assuming that you enjoy the job, that is." His expression turns a touch apologetic, because of course he knows that for all the theatrics, it might not be the case for the other man.
"Is there a bar? Least I can do is buy you a drink for helping get me here."
All Thorn can offer as a response to the fact King’s End would be lucky to have him with the confidence of his ‘good luck charm’ is a bright laugh, because the brothel is before them and Thorn makes a soft little show of entering the building, swiftly shedding his outer shawl he’d worn for the trek to leave himself in a rather translucent and pale, low hanging tank top on his frame.
What can he say, he gets paid for the view.
“Of course I enjoy it.” Thorn chimes, flashing Ronin a grin over his shoulder, already heading through the hall toward the bar in question. “I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t.” He tacks on with a knowing grin, before he bobs his head with a nod. Soon enough, the expanse of the bar and eatery area is before them, a rustic look with a warm fireplace in the back for cold nights. Today, however, being Longheat has simply offered the opening of the multitude of windows, creating swift little breezes as Thorn pops onto a stool and swivels. “I was hoping you’d offer to buy something.” He teases, looking to the bartender with a knowing grin (if only because this particular bartender found him relatively annoying, evident in how the man focuses his attention on Ronin as opposed to the younger man). ’Don’t mind him, he’s easily bored and picks whoever’s available to annoy.’ The bartender says knowingly, while Thorn offers a huff of a dramatic gasp and a hand over his chest, clearly not that put off by it. ’What can I get you?’
"Glad to hear it," Ronin says as he follows after Thorn, content to walk in the other man's wake and to take in the brothel and its decor. He does recognise Sunjata's particular style - and where it morphs into something different - though he's not as well versed in the relationship between Isla and the Flood, so he takes it in stride. "Well then consider this an official offer to buy you a drink," he quips to Thorn, chuckling and joining him on the barstool.
The bartender earns another grin for his trouble, Ronin rolling his shoulders in a shrug. "I don't know how successful he's being so far," he says, given how he hasn't been annoyed in the slightest by his presence. "I'll take a whiskey, and whatever he'd like." Maybe he really ought to have had water since that was the point at landing by the well, but whatever. When in Rome and all that.
A sharp edged and playful grin is shot Ronin’s way at the official offer, even as they settle at the bar and the bartender starts to offer apologies for Thorn and the younger man offers all the flares of dramatics he can think of until Ronin’s response.
Which, of course, is only fire added to the mix. He grins, almost a bit too eagerly. “I just prefer to annoy you.” Thorn purrs to the bartender, propping his head up onto his hand to watch as the bartender rolls his eyes but starts to pour Ronin’s whiskey.
’Well, if he does, your next round’s on me.’ The bartender hums, sliding the whiskey over to Ronin before grabbing a glass of something light and sweet, the booze hardly noticeable in the mixed cocktail, but it was there. His favorite drink, actually, and easily whipped up for the bartender, something Thorn beams at before taking a sip. “He talks a lot of talk, but I think I’m his favorite.” He says to Ronin quietly like it’s a secret.
"Noted," Ronin says to the bartender with a chuckle, accepting his whiskey and swirling it around the glass to cool with the ice while Thorn receives his cocktail. And really, the Nova ought to have expected the other man's choice of drink to be as extra as he is, watching as it's set down in front of him. "You usually find that," he whispers back, referring to the bartender and his feelings. "If he starts being really mean to you, he probably has a crush."
Raising his glass, he clinks it against Thorn's in a toast before finally taking a sip, relishing the sweetness and spice burning down his throat. "Well, that certainly beats well water," he says, grinning. "Thanks again for walking me here. Makes sense to settle in until the heat of the day is gone."
Thorn seems to continue to beam at the bartender, even while he quietly offers his rumor to Ronin with ease – only to turn and face him a bit more fully with a playful twist to his smile, snorting and shaking his head. “Think I’d tear him apart.” He admits, refraining from adding the I kinda want to try, though, in favor for clinking his glass against Ronin’s.
He takes a sip of the drink and sighs contently, casting a brief glance back toward the grumpy bartender before turning toward Ronin more fully. “Wasn’t a problem.” Thorn flashes him an easier grin. “Isn’t every day I get to talk to other demigods.” And it had been nice, even if the only thing that had come out of it was a drink and conversation.
Conversation that Thorn sticks with until it’s time for Ronin to go and they part their separate ways.
