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!
"Oh. I'm sorry." Ever apologizes immediately. True, Dahlia had caught him off-guard, but that didn't change the number of times he'd seen people kiss where both were clearly aware of what was going to happen. "I could never think of you like that." The aviator interrupts, his lips unconsciously mirroring Mateo's smile.
What follows is nothing at all like it had been Dahlia. There's no bright explosion of purple pain, no copper taste, no sharp inhale as his back was pushed against a wall. There's on darkness, no surprise, no sudden storm inside his mind. Instead, Mateo is like a cloud above him, blotting out the sunlight and yet not darkening the world at all.
Contrary to what many believe, when you don't grow up making out with your own fist or spending hours alone in bed imagining scenarios you hope and pray you can make into reality, making out isn't as intuitive as it seems. Most familiar with the sort of smooches given from family or close friends, at first, Ever's lips are constantly puckered which is in stark contrast to the botanist's much-learned mouth. "I...I don't know how." He whispers, feeling the way his lips brushed against Mateo's as he spoke and realizing those movements were in fact closer to what thought he was supposed to be doing.
Trying again, Ever mouthed the names of botanicals and paint colours against Mateo's lips, gradually trying to decrease the space between their mouths.
If you keep adding stones Soon the water will be lost in the well
Champagne, cocaine, gasoline and most things in between
"You will learn. Try not to overthink it," Mateo says with a smile against Ever's lips, withdrawing enough for the aviator to test his own curiosities and giving himself a chance to enjoy and understand the closeness of the body beneath his own. Mateo is not Everest, after all, and whether the other man knows it or not, he is conventionally attractive and then some to the rest of the world, all wide blue eyes and tanned, toned skin.
In the course of their friendship the botanist has had time to imagine, reason and come to terms with the ways Ever is and is not, only now a door in the other man's mind has begun to creak open that he previously thought non-existent or boarded up. Closing the distance between them again at last, Mateo's kisses are the sort he wants to melt into, to close his eyes and indulge his other senses; the smell of the lavender, the heat of their skin.
I roam the city in a shopping cart a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm
Even in his current state, Everest huffed out a little laugh as he was told not to overthink it. Despite his purple-cured (?) mind, he'd continue to overthink things, only now with a new and improved capacity for it.
What do I do with my hands? Ever wants to ask, but he can already hear Mateo saying whatever you want to. Trying to take those (imagined) words to heart, the aviator lets one hand slip against his friend's side where the flat of his palm is treated to the colourful thrill of touching the shirt Mateo put on that morning. Still trying to mouth the names of various philodendrons, it was during one such pronunciation that their mouths happened to open at the same time and Ever felt the investigative press of the botanist's tongue against his own.
Against Mateo's side the aviator's hand froze as his combined attention flew to his lips in a bright surge of golden light. Knowing that using his tongue the way one might against an ice cream was probably incorrect, instead Ever slurred words of Italian he was sure he'd heard the other man say that his tongue might curl and purr around the botanist's. "is..that right..?"
If you keep adding stones Soon the water will be lost in the well
Champagne, cocaine, gasoline and most things in between
"Mm, stop talking," Mateo murmurs into the kiss, his smile half formed, his body already shifting of its own accord to properly straddle the aviator. Having recently returned from work, the soft hands Ever had complimented earlier aren't currently bedecked by rings, and so it's only their warm press that the other man will feel down the length of his chest. "It feels good. You feel good."
Drawing back away from Ever's lips, Mateo drops a kiss or two against the corner of his mouth before descending down the line of his jaw and the tanned column of his neck. He can't stop to encourage or direct the other man's hands - however they might be frozen or exploring his body in turn - but he'll give enthusiastic consent wherever Ever does want to touch.
I roam the city in a shopping cart a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm
Wondering how he was meant to learn if he wasn't allowed to ask questions, his friend's reassurances are enough to have the small snarl of tension trying to form between his shoulder blades melting away entirely. On an exhale, Everest heard a warm sunlight moan strike the air, though that it came from his lips was something he'd be surprised to realize.
Knowing enough to know that kissing didn't always have to be on the mouth, Ever tried to map Mateo's movements for later practice but found himself swept away in the pulsing press of the botanist's lips. Feeling as though he had no idea where his body started or stopped save for where it touched Mateo, the botanist's lips were like bright pinpoints of colour and light that glowed neon, illuminating and magnifying the sensations impressed within their glow.
Reaching out for Mateo with arms that felt foreign and cumbersome, he plunged one hand into his friend's curls and was immediately overcome with the sensation of black silken waves beneath his fingers. With another moan he didn't recognize, Ever tangled his fingers together, inadvertently pulling on the botanist's curls if only to feel the decadent experience of trying to stiffen the dark silk in his hands.
If you keep adding stones Soon the water will be lost in the well
Champagne, cocaine, gasoline and most things in between
It likely comes as no surprise to anyone that Mateo is no stranger to having his hair pulled, though as Ever's fingers come together and tug, he's prevented from continuing his pathway of kisses down the other man's neck. Breaking into a surprised (but not unapproving) gasp, the botanist is left weightless and breathless for a moment, before managing to blink himself back into the here and now.
"See? You are a quick learner," he murmurs, smiling crookedly and leaning in to sample the aviator's lips again, though in the interest of moderation - and that in and of itself is a foreign concept for Mateo - he soon sits himself back to let the world sway from a lavender haze back into focus. "I know that was hardly a kiss from Stormbreak's new leader, but I certainly have no complaints."
I roam the city in a shopping cart a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm
"..am I allowed to talk now?" Ever mumbled against his friend's lips, before nearly mewling in protest as the dark ribbons of his friend's curls are pulled free from his fingers. Glancing up and feeling as though Mateo was some sort of blanket suspended in mid-flourish for having sat up, the aviator reaches his hands up to his own lips, chasing the sensation of heat and gin that still lingered in kaleidoscopic shards.
"It was very different." Ever answers through his fingers, though given his lack of clothes and Mateo's position, the botanist will be able to determine for himself quite what the aviator's body, at least, thought of it all.
"And I guess when you're on top, you just...don't squish the other person?" Mateo had ever been the shorter of the two, though with both puberty and his choice of career and other jobs nearly always being physical, he'd bulked up significantly since they were boys such that there Mateo might never squash someone, Everest thought himself certainly capable of it.
If you keep adding stones Soon the water will be lost in the well
Champagne, cocaine, gasoline and most things in between
"Coming from anyone else, different could be seen as a good or a bad thing. I will choose to take it as a compliment," Mateo says with a satisfied smile - and yes, he can tell very clearly just what both of their bodies have to say about the impromptu makeout session. "And yes, it is generally considered good manners not to crush your partner," he says, nodding sagely. "Though there is something to be argued about friction in the right places."
So saying, he nods down between them and gives a sheepish shrug of his shoulders, letting his hands gently drift across Ever's neck and collarbones. "I think," he says slowly, "that you ought to get dressed, and I ought to take you out for the evening. We can get a drink in Molly's, and I will show you all the other things you have been missing."
I roam the city in a shopping cart a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm
"I definitely didn't mean it as a bad thing." Where once the aviator would have tripped over himself to apologize and clarify, now he just smoothed away the confusion with a shrug.
"Noted." Ever agrees regarding the friction, wondering distantly if there were creams or oils he should acquaint himself with. No doubt whatever he needed Mateo would have. Shivering slightly and letting his hands come to rest against his friend's thighs, the aviator considers for a moment before half-raising his head to look down at the state of himself. "Maybe I can borrow one of your shirts? The really swooooshy ones." The thought of putting on his sweater both because of the heat as well as the texture of it, made him feel queasy. Though, that could just as easily have been the drugs.
If you keep adding stones Soon the water will be lost in the well
Champagne, cocaine, gasoline and most things in between
"Good to know," Mateo trills with an easy smile, almost prepared to have to smooth out the conversation in their usual way and feeling half relieved and half strangely unsatisfied to not follow that routine. It's a thought he finds simple to let go, at least, especially with the feel of warm hands against his thighs, and for a second he considers rescinding his offer and melting right back into Ever's lips and touch.
"Oh, you can absolutely borrow one of my shirts," he says, glancing between them again and furrowing his brow as if to decide which of his outfits would suit Everest best. With a hint of reluctance, he peels himself off the other man's lap and straightens up, subtly adjusting the front of his pants as he goes. "I ought to change as well. The florist apron does it for a lot of people, but it is quite niche."
I roam the city in a shopping cart a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm
"Nnnnnnnno." Everest whines as Mateo stands. His friend's departure has left him cold and feeling strangely isolated, and though rolling onto his stomach is uncomfortable (for obvious reasons), it allows him to trail grasping fingers after the botanist. Reaching out for his pants and underwear, he reluctantly thrusts himself into them though makes no effort to actually do them up before wombling back into the houseboat.
"When you say it, what does that mean?" Ever wonders as he leans against the doorframe of Mateo's bedroom. There's a bit of lavender stuck to his neck where Mateo's lips had been that falls onto his shoulder as Ever comfortably crosses his arms. "What does it do for them, I mean."
If you keep adding stones Soon the water will be lost in the well
Champagne, cocaine, gasoline and most things in between
Leaving Ever's sweater among the lavender, Mateo slinks back into the houseboat as well and sheds said florist apron, hanging it on the back of a chair and swiftly beginning to unbutton his shirt as he delves into his closet(s). "Mm?" Peeping around the closet door at his friend, Mateo offers him a lopsided grin. "It turns them on, makes them aroused," he explains, shrugging into a crisp black shirt with a gold trim along the collar and the cuffs.
"People find different things especially attractive," he continues, adding a dark waistcoat to the ensemble and cinching it up before fussing with his sleeves. "It is hard to say why. I suppose it is just one of those quirks of being unique humans." Retrieving one of his favourite swooooshy shirts (lilac, of course) for Ever and offering it out, he rolls his shoulders and smooths down the front of the waistcoat.
"For some people, they enjoy uniforms, for example."
I roam the city in a shopping cart a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm
"Ohhh." Ever says, as if he understands. "I don't understand that. So just...wearing the apron? Do they imagine you tending to your flowers?" Wanting to stretch out his hands and see if the gold on Mateo's shirt felt the way the botanist's kisses had or if it was colder somehow, it was only the fact that the room was spinning slightly that kept Everest against the doorframe.
Sighing decadently as he receives the shirt, Everest lets it fall over his bare chest for a moment as if gauging whether or not it was the right sort of swooooosh. Mateo hadn't let him wrong of course, and within moments he was struggling to put it on. "What do you enjoy?" Ever wondered suddenly, looking up from the complex task of buttoning up his shirt. Larger than his friend, as he moved to try and do it up, drug-addled as his mind was, even he could tell the buttons were at risk of shooting off if he tugged at them anymore.
If you keep adding stones Soon the water will be lost in the well
Champagne, cocaine, gasoline and most things in between
"I am not sure what they imagine, actually. Perhaps I am tending to my flowers. Perhaps I am wearing the apron while we have sex." Mateo says with a soft laugh, glancing at himself in a long mirror inside the closet door and scooping his hair half up into a tail, clasping it with a gold pin. Only upon retreating from his dressing room does he spot Ever struggling into his shirt, and it's with a gentle noise not unlike abapapap that he swoops over and rescues the buttons.
"Me?" he echoes, fussing over the shirt and how it falls and picking off the piece of lavender stuck to Ever's neck. "I enjoy quite a few different things. Lately I have been into corsets. I like the silhouettes they make." And the feel of the fabric, and the lace between his fingers. Of course, Mateo hasn't clarified whether he likes looking at them or wearing them himself, and the answer to that, dear reader, is yes.
"Alright, I think we are ready to go."
I roam the city in a shopping cart a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm
